Visions and magic spells, can you despise,
And laugh at witches, ghosts, and prodigies?
Going yesterday to dine with
an old acquaintance, I had the misfortune to find his whole family very much
dejected. Upon asking him the occasion of it, he told me that his wife
had dreamt a very strange dream the night before, which they were afraid portended
some misfortune to themselves or to their children. At her coming into
the room, I observed a settled melancholy in her countenance, which I should
have been troubled for, had I not heard from whence it proceeded. We were
no sooner sat down, but, after having looked upon me a little while, “My dear,”
says she, turning to her husband, “you may now see the stranger that was in the
candle last night.” Soon after this, as they began to talk of family
affairs, a little boy at the lower end of the table told her that he was to go
into join-hand on Thursday. “Thursday!” says she. “No, child; if it
please God, you shall not begin upon Childermas-day; tell your writing-master
that Friday will be soon enough.” I was reflecting with myself on the
oddness of her fancy, and wondering that anybody would establish it as a rule,
to lose a day in every week. In the midst of these my musings, she
desired me to reach her a little salt upon the point of my knife, which I did
in such a trepidation and hurry of obedience that I let it drop by the way; at
which she immediately startled, and said it fell towards her. Upon this I
looked very blank; and observing the concern of the whole table, began to
consider myself, with some confusion, as a person that had brought a disaster
upon the family. The lady, however, recovering herself after a little
space, said to her husband with a sigh, “My dear, misfortunes never come
single.” My friend, I found, acted but an under part at his table; and,
being a man of more good-nature than understanding, thinks himself obliged to
fall in with all the passions and humours of his yoke-fellow. “Do not you
remember, child,” says she, “that the pigeon-house fell the very afternoon that
our careless wench spilt the salt upon the table?”—“Yes,” says he, “my dear;
and the next post brought us an account of the battle of Almanza.” The
reader may guess at the figure I made, after having done all this
mischief. I despatched my dinner as soon as I could, with my usual
taciturnity; when, to my utter confusion, the lady seeing me quitting my knife
and fork, and laying them across one another upon my plate, desired me that I
would humour her so far as to take them out of that figure and place them side
by side. What the absurdity was which I had committed I did not know, but
I suppose there was some traditionary superstition in it; and therefore, in
obedience to the lady of the house, I disposed of my knife and fork in two
parallel lines, which is the figure I shall always lay them in for the future,
though I do not know any reason for it.
It is not difficult for a man to
see that a person has conceived an aversion to him. For my own part, I
quickly found, by the lady’s looks, that she regarded me as a very odd kind of
fellow, with an unfortunate aspect: for which reason I took my leave
immediately after dinner, and withdrew to my own lodgings. Upon my return
home, I fell into a profound contemplation on the evils that attend these
superstitious follies of mankind; how they subject us to imaginary afflictions,
and additional sorrows, that do not properly come within our lot. As if
the natural calamities of life were not sufficient for it, we turn the most
indifferent circumstances into misfortunes, and suffer as much from trifling
accidents as from real evils. I have known the shooting of a star spoil a
night’s rest; and have seen a man in love grow pale, and lose his appetite,
upon the plucking of a merry-thought. A screech-owl at midnight has
alarmed a family more than a band of robbers; nay, the voice of a cricket hath
struck more terror than the roaring of a lion. There is nothing so
inconsiderable which may not appear dreadful to an imagination that is filled
with omens and prognostics: a rusty nail or a crooked pin shoot up into prodigies.
I remember I was once in a mixed
assembly that was full of noise and mirth, when on a sudden an old woman
unluckily observed there were thirteen of us in company. This remark
struck a panic terror into several who were present, insomuch that one or two
of the ladies were going to leave the room; but a friend of mine taking notice
that one of our female companions was big with child, affirmed there were
fourteen in the room, and that, instead of portending one of the company should
die, it plainly foretold one of them should be born. Had not my friend
found this expedient to break the omen, I question not but half the women in
the company would have fallen sick that very night.
An old maid that is troubled with
the vapours produces infinite disturbances of this kind among her friends and
neighbours. I know a maiden aunt of a great family, who is one of these
antiquated Sibyls, that forebodes and prophesies from one end of the year to
the other. She is always seeing apparitions and hearing death-watches;
and was the other day almost frighted out of her wits by the great house-dog
that howled in the stable, at a time when she lay ill of the toothache.
Such an extravagant cast of mind engages multitudes of people not only in
impertinent terrors, but in supernumerary duties of life, and arises from that
fear and ignorance which are natural to the soul of man. The horror with
which we entertain the thoughts of death, or indeed of any future evil, and the
uncertainty of its approach, fill a melancholy mind with innumerable
apprehensions and suspicions, and consequently dispose it to the observation of
such groundless prodigies and predictions. For as it is the chief concern
of wise men to retrench the evils of life by the reasonings of philosophy, it
is the employment of fools to multiply them by the sentiments of superstition.
For my own part, I should be very
much troubled were I endowed with this divining quality, though it should
inform me truly of everything that can befall me. I would not anticipate
the relish of any happiness, nor feel the weight of any misery, before it
actually arrives.
I know but one way of fortifying my soul against these gloomy presages and terrors of mind; and that is, by securing to myself the friendship and protection of that Being who disposes of events and governs futurity. He sees, at one view, the whole thread of my existence, not only that part of it which I have already passed through, but that which runs forward into all the depths of eternity. When I lay me down to sleep, I recommend myself to His care; when I awake, I give myself up to His direction. Amidst all the evils that threaten me, I will look up to Him for help, and question not but He will either avert them, or turn them to my advantage. Though I know neither the time nor the manner of the death I am to die, I am not at all solicitous about it; because I am sure that he knows them both, and that He will not fail to comfort and support me under them.