In some instances phenomena, like those described, are apparently the result of a disturbed conscience, and occur, therefore, in frequent repetition. Already Plutarch, in his "Life of Cimon," tells us that the Spartan general, Pausanias, had murdered a fair maiden, Cleonice, because she overthrew a torch in his tent and he imagined himself to be attacked by assassins. The ghost of the poor girl, whom he had dishonored in life and so foully killed, appeared to him and threatened him with such fearful disgrace, that he was terrified and hastened to Heraclea, where necromancers summoned the spirits of the departed by their vile arts. They called up Cleonice, at the great commander's request, and she replied reluctantly, that the curse would not leave him till he went to Sparta. Pausanias did so and found his death there, the only way, says the historian of the same name, in which he could ever be relieved of such fearful guilt. Baxter, also, tells us (p. 30) of a Rev. Mr. Franklin, whose young son repeatedly saw a lady and received at her hands quite painful correction. Thus, when he was bound apprentice to a surgeon, in 1661, and refused to return home upon being ordered to do so, she appeared to him, and when he resisted her admonitions, energetically boxed his ears. The poor boy was in bad health and seemed to suffer so much that at last the surgeon determined to consult his father, who lived on the island of Ely. On the morning of the day which he spent travelling, the boy cried out: "Oh, mistress, here's the lady again!"and at the same time a noise as of a violent blow was heard. The child hung his head and fell back dead. In the same hour the surgeon and the boy's father, sitting together in consultation, saw a lady enter the room, glance at them angrily, walk up and down a few times and disappear again.
The fancy that murdered persons reappear in some shape after death for the purpose of wreaking their vengeance upon their enemies, is very common among all nations, and has often been vividly embodied in legends and ballads. The stories of Hamlet and of Don Giovanni are based upon this belief, and the older chronicles abound with similar cases belonging to an age when violence was more frequent and justice less prompt than in our day. Thus we are told in the annals of the famous castle of Weinsberg in Suabia—justly renowned all over the world for the rare instance of marital attachment exhibited by its women—that a steward had wantonly murdered a peasant there. Thereupon disturbances of various kinds began to make the castle uninhabitable; a black shape was seen walking about and breathing hot and hateful odors upon all it met, while the steward became an object of special persecution. The townspeople at first were skeptic and laughed at his reports, but soon the black visitor was seen on the ramparts of the town also and created within the walls the same sensation as up at the castle. The good citizens at last observed a solemn fast-day and performed a pilgrimage to a holy shrine atHeilbrum. But all was in vain, and the disturbances and annoyances increased in frequency and violence, till at last the unfortunate steward died from vexation and sorrow, when the whole ceased and peace was restored to town and castle alike (Crusius, "Suabian Chron." ii. p. 417).
Another case of this kind is connected with a curious token of gratitude exhibited by the gratified victim. A president of the Parliament of Toulouse, returning from Paris towards the end of the seventeenth century, was compelled by an accident to stop at a poor country tavern. During the night there appeared to him an old man, pale and bleeding, who declared that he was the father of the present owner of the house, that he had been murdered by his own son, cut to pieces, and buried in the garden. He appealed to the president to investigate the matter and to avenge his murder. The judge was so forcibly impressed by his vision that he ordered search to be made, and lo! the body of the murdered man was found, and the son, thunderstruck by the mysterious revelation, acknowledged his guilt, was tried, and in course of time died on the scaffold. But the murdered man was not satisfied yet; he showed himself once more to the president and asked how he could prove his gratitude? The latter asked to be informed of the hour of his death, that he might fitly prepare himself, and was promised that he should know it a week in advance. Many years afterwards a fierce knocking was heard at thegate of the president's house in Toulouse; the porter opened but saw no one; the knocking was repeated, but this time also the servants who had rushed to the spot found nobody there; when it was heard a third time they were thoroughly frightened and hastened to inform their master. The latter went to the door and there saw the well-remembered form of his nightly visitor, who told him that he would die in eight days. He told his friends and his family what had happened, but only met with laughter, as he was in perfect health and nothing seemed more improbable than his sudden death. But as he sat, on the eighth day, at table with his family, a book was mentioned which he wished to see, and he got up to look for it in his library. Instantly a shot is heard; the guests rush out and find him lying on the floor and weltering in his blood. Upon inquiry it appeared that a man, desperately in love with the chamber-maid and jealous of a rival, had mistaken the president for the latter and murdered him with a pistol (De Ségur,Galérie morale et politique, p. 221).
Among the numerous accounts of visions which seem to have been caused by an instinctive and perfectly unconscious perception of human remains, the story of the Rev. Mr. Lindner, in Königsberg, is perhaps the best authenticated, and from the character of the man to whom the revelation was made, the most trustworthy. It is fully reported by Professor Ehrmann of Strasburg, inKies. Archiv.x. iii., p. 143. The minister, a modest, pious man, awoke in the middle of the night, and saw, by the bright moonlight which was shining into the room, another minister in gown and bands, standing before his open bible, apparently searching for some quotation. He had a small child in his arms, and a larger child stood by his side. After some time spent in speechless astonishment, Mr. Lindner exclaimed: "All good spirits praise God!" whereupon the stranger turned round, went up to him and offered three times to shake hands with him. Mr. Lindner, however, refused to do so, gazing at the same time intently at his features, and after a while he found himself looking at the air, for all had disappeared. It was a long time afterwards, when sauntering through the cloisters of his church, he was suddenly arrested by a portrait which bore all the features of the minister he had seen on that night. It was one of his predecessors in office, who had died nearly fifty years ago in rather bad odor, reports having been current at the time, as very old men still living testified, that he had had several illegitimate children, of whose fate nothing was known. But there was a still further sequel to the minister's strange adventure. In the course of the next year his study was enlarged, and for that purpose the huge German stove had to be removed; to the horror of the workmen and of Mr. Lindner, who was promptly called to the spot, the remains of several children were found carefully concealed beneath the solid structure. As there is no reason to suspect self-delusion in the reverend man, and the vision cannot well beascribed to any outward cause, it must be presumed that his sensitive nature was painfully affected by the skeletons in his immediate neighborhood, and that this unconscious feeling, acting through his imagination, gave form and shape to the impressions made upon his nerves.
In another case the principal person was a candidate of divinity, Billing, well known as being of a highly sensitive disposition and given to hallucinations; the extreme suffering which the presence of human remains caused to his whole system had been previously already observed. The great German fabulist, Pfeffel, a blind man, once took Billing's arm and went with him into the garden to take an airing. The poet noticed that when they came to a certain place, the young man hesitated and his arm trembled as if it had received an electric shock. When he was asked what was the matter, he replied, "Oh, nothing!" But upon passing over the spot a second time, the same tremor made itself felt. Pressed by Pfeffel, the young man at last acknowledged that he experienced at that spot the sensation which the presence of a corpse always produced in him, and offered to go there with the poet at night in order to prove to him the correctness of his feelings. When the two friends went to the garden after dark, Billing perceived at once a faint glimmer of light above the spot. He stopped at a distance of about ten yards, and after a while declared that he saw a female figure hovering above the place, about five feethigh, with the right arm across her bosom and the left hand hanging down by her side. When the poet advanced and stood on the fatal spot, the young man affirmed that the image was on his right or his left, before or behind him, and when Pfeffel struck around him with his cane, it produced the effect as if he were cutting through a flame which instantly reunited. The same phenomena were witnessed a second time by a number of Pfeffel's relations. Several days afterwards, while the young man was absent, the poet caused the place in the garden to be dug up, and at a depth of several feet, beneath a layer of lime, a human skeleton was discovered. It was removed, the hole filled up, and all smoothed over again. After Billing's return the poet took him once more into the garden, and this time the young man walked over the fatal spot without experiencing the slightest sensation (Kieser, Archiv., etc., p. 326).
It was this remarkable experience which led Baron Reichenbach to verify it by leading one of his sensitive patients, a Miss Reichel, at night to the great cemetery of Vienna. As soon as she reached the place she perceived everywhere a sea of flames, brightest over the new graves, weaker over others, and quite faint here and there. In a few cases these lights reached a height of nearly four feet, but generally they had more the appearance of luminous mists, so that her hand, held over the place where she saw one, seemed to be enveloped in a cloud of fire. She was in no way troubledby the phenomena, which she had often previously observed, and Baron Reichenbach thought he saw in them a confirmation of his theory about the Od-light. There can be, however, little doubt that the luminous appearance, perceptible though it be only to unusually sensitive persons, is the result of chemical decomposition, which has a peculiar influence over these persons.
Hence, no doubt, the numerous accounts of will-o'-the-wisps and ghostly lights seen in graveyards; the frightened beholder is nearly always laughed at or heartily abused, and more than one poor child has fallen a victim to the absurd theory of "curing it of foolish fears." There can be no doubt that light does appear flickering above churchyards, and that there is something more than mere idle superstition in the "corpse-candles" of the Welsh and in the "elf-candles" of the Scotch, which are seen, with foreboding weight, in the house of sickness, betokening near dissolution. At the same time, it is well known that living persons also have, under certain circumstances, given out light, and especially from their head. The cases of Moses, whose face shone with unbearable brightness, and of the martyr Stephen, are familiar to all, and the halo with which artists surround the heads of saints bears eloquent evidence of the universal and deeply-rooted belief. But science also has fully established the fact that light appears as a real and unmistakable luminous efflux from the human body, alike in health and inmortal sickness. By far the most common case of such emission of light is the emission of sparks from the hair when combed. Before and during the electrical "dust-storms" in India, this phenomenon is of frequent occurrence in the hair of both sexes. In dry weather, and when the hair also is dry, and especially immediately before thunderstorms, the same sparks are seen in all countries. Dr. Phipson mentions the case of a relative of his, "whose hair (exactly one yard and a quarter long), when combed somewhat rapidly with a black gutta-percha comb, emits sheets of light upward of a foot in length," the light being "composed of hundreds of small electric sparks, the snapping noise of which is distinctly heard."
But electric light is sometimes given off by the human body itself, not merely from the hair. A memorable instance of this phenomenon is recorded by Dr. Kane in the journal of his last voyage to the Polar regions. He and a companion, Petersen, had gone to sleep in a hut during intense cold, and on awaking in the night, found, to their horror, that their lamp—their only hope—had gone out. Petersen tried in vain to get light from a pocket-pistol, and then Kane resolved to take the pistol himself. "It was so intensely dark," he says, "that I had to grope for it, and in so doing, I touched his hand. At that instant the pistol—in Petersen's hand—became distinctly visible. A pale bluish light, slightly tremulous, but not broken, covered the metallic parts of it. The stock, too, was distinctly visible as if by reflected light, and to theamazement of both of us, also the thumb and two fingers with which Petersen was holding it—the creases, wrinkles and circuit of nails being clearly defined upon the skin. As I took the pistol my hand became illuminated also." This luminous and doubtless electric phenomenon took place in highly exceptional circumstances, and is the only case recorded in recent times. But a far more remarkable phenomenon of a similar kind is mentioned by Bartholin, who gives an account of a lady in Italy, whom he rightly stylesmulier splendens, whose body became phosphorescent—or rather shone with electric radiations—when slightly rubbed with a piece of dry linen. In this case the luminosity appears to have been normal, certainly very frequent under ordinary circumstances, and the fact is well attested. Mr. B. H. Patterson mentions in the journalBelgravia(Oct., 1872), that he saw the flannel with which he had rubbed his body, emit blue sparks, while at the same time he heard a "crackling" sound. These facts prove that the human body even in ordinary life, is capable of giving out luminous undulations, while science teaches us that they appear quite frequently in disease. Here again, Dr. Phipson mentions several cases as the result of his reading. One of these is that of a woman in Milan, during whose illness a so-called phosphoric light glimmered about her bed. Another remarkable case is recorded by Dr. Marsh, in a volume on the "Evolution of Light from the Human Subject," and reads thus: "About an hour and a half before my sister's death,we were struck by luminous appearances proceeding from her head in a diagonal direction. She was at the time in a half-recumbent position, and perfectly tranquil. The light was pale as the moon, but quite evident to mamma, myself, and sisters, who were watching over her at the time. One of us at first thought it was lightning, till shortly afterwards we perceived a sort of tremulous glimmer playing around the head of the bed, and then, recollecting that we had read something of a similar nature having been observed previous to dissolution, we had candles brought into the room, fearing that our dear sister would perceive the luminosity, and that it might disturb the tranquillity of her last moments."
The other case relates to an Irish peasant, and is recorded from personal observation by Dr. Donovan, in theDublin Medical Press, in 1870, as follows: "I was sent to see Harrington in December. He had been under the care of my predecessor, and had been entered as a phthisical patient. He was under my care for about five years, and I had discontinued my visits, when the report became general that mysterious lights were seen every night in his cabin. The subject attracted a great deal of attention. I determined to submit the matter to the ordeal of my own senses, and for this purpose I visited the cabin for fourteen nights. On three nights only I witnessed anything unusual. Once I perceived a luminous fog resembling the aurora borealis; and twice I saw scintillations like the sparkling phosphorescence exhibited by sea-infusoria. From the close scrutiny I made, I can with certainty say, that no imposition was either employed or attempted."
The only explanation ever offered by competent authority of the luminous radiations from persons in disease, ascribes them to an efflux or escape of the nerve-force, which is known to be kindred in its nature to electricity, transmuting itself into luminosity as it leaves the body. The Seeress of Prevorst reported that she saw the nerves as shining threads, and even from the eyes of some persons rays of light seemed to her to flash continually. Other somnambulists also, as well as mesmerized persons, have seen the hair of persons shine with a multitude of sparks, while the breath of their mouth appeared as a faint luminous mist.
The same luminosity is, finally, perceived at times in graveyards, and would, no doubt, have led to careful investigation more frequently, if observers had not so often been suspected of superstitious apprehensions. In the case of Baron Reichenbach's patients, however, no such difficulty was to be feared; they saw invariably light, bluish flames hovering over many graves, and what made the phenomena more striking still, was the fact that these moving lights were only seen on recent graves, as if naturally dependent upon the process of decomposition. If we connect this with our experience of luminosity seen in decaying vegetables, in spoiled meat, and in diseased persons, we shall be prepared to believe that even so-called ghost stories, in which mysterious lights play a prominent part, are by no means necessarily without foundation.
Cases in which deceased persons have made themselves known to survivors, or have produced, by some as yet unexplained agency, an impression upon them through other senses than the sight, are very rare. Occasionally, however, the hearing is thus affected, and sweet music is heard, in token, as it were, of the continued intercourse between the dead and the living. One instance may serve as an illustration.
The Countess A. had all her life been remarkable for the strange delight she took in clocks; not a room in her castle but had its large or small clock, and all these she insisted upon winding up herself at the proper time. Her favorite, however, was a very curious and most costly clock in her sitting-room, which had the form of a Gothic church, and displayed in the steeple a small dial, behind which the works were concealed; at the full hour a hymn was played by a kind of music-box attached to the mechanism. She allowed no one to touch this clock, and used to sit before it, as the hand approached the hour, waiting for the hymn to be heard. At last she was taken ill and confined for seven weeks, during which the clock could not be wound up, and then she died. For special reasons the interment had to take place on the evening of the next day, and, as the castle was far from any town, the preparations took so much time that it was nearly midnight before the body could be moved from the bedroom to the drawing-room, where the usual ceremonies were to be performed. The transfer was accomplished under the superintendence of her husband, who followed the coffin, and in the presence of a large number of friends and dependents, while the minister led the sad cortége. At the moment when the coffin approached the favorite clock, it suddenly began to strike; but instead of twelve, it gave out thirteen strokes, and then followed the melody of a well-known hymn:
"Let us with boldness now proceedOn the dark path to a new life."
"Let us with boldness now proceedOn the dark path to a new life."
The minister, who happened to have been sitting a little while before by the count's side, just beneath the clock, and had mournfully noticed its silence after so many years, was thunderstruck, and could not recover his self-control for some time. The count, on the contrary, saw in the accident a solemn warning from on high, and henceforth laid aside the frivolity which he had so far shown in his life as well as in his principles ("Evening Post" [Germ.], 1840. No. 187).
There are finally certain phenomena belonging to this part of magic, which have been very generally attributed to an agency in which natural forces and supernatural beings held a nearly equal share. They suggest the interesting but difficult question, whether visions and ecstasy can extend to large numbers of men at once? And yet without some such supposition the armies in the clouds, the wild huntsman of the Ardennes, and like appearances cannot well be explained.Here also no little weight must be attached to ancient superstitions which have become, as it were, a part of a nation's faith. Thus all Northern Germany has from the earliest days been familiar with the idea of the great Woden ranging through its dark forests, at the head of the Walkyries and the heroes fallen in battle, while his wolves and his raven followed him on his nightly course. When Christianity changed the old gods of the German race into devils and demons, Woden became very naturally the wild huntsman, who was now escorted by men of violence, bloody tyrants, and criminals, often grievously mutilated or altogether headless. There can be little doubt but that these visions also rested upon some natural substructure: exceptional atmospheric disturbances, hurricanes coming from afar and crashing through mighty forests, or even the modest tramp of a band of poachers heard afar off, under favorable circumstances by timid ears. The very fact that the favorite time for such phenomena is the winter solstice favors this supposition. They are, however, by no means limited to seasons and days, for as late as 1842 a number of wheat-cutters left in a panic the field in which they were engaged, because they believed they heard Frau Holle with her hellish company, and saw Faithful Eckhard, as he walked steadily before the procession, warning all he met to stand aside and escape from the fatal sight. An occurrence of the kind, which took place in 1857, was fortunately fully explained by careful observers: the cause was an immenseflock of wild geese, whose strange cries resembled in a surprising manner the barking of a pack of hounds during a hunt. Another occurrence during the night of January 30, 1849, threw the whole neighborhood of Basle in Switzerland into painful consternation. The air was suddenly filled with a multitude of whining voices, whose agony pierced the hearts of all who heard them; men and beasts seemed to be suffering unutterable anguish, and to be driven with furious speed from the mountain-side into a valley near Magden; here all ended in an instant amid rolling thunder and fearful flashes of lightning. A fierce storm arising in distant clefts and crevices, and carrying possibly fragments of rock, ice, and moraine along with it, seems here to have been the determining cause.
Another class of phenomena of this kind relates to the great battles that have at times decided the fate of the world. Thus Pausanias already tells us ("Attica," 32), and so do other historians of Greece, how the Plain of Marathon resounded for nearly four centuries every year with the clash of arms and the cries of soldiers. It was evidently the deep and lasting impression made upon a highly sensitive nation, which here was bequeathed from generation to generation, and on the day of the battle, when all was excitement, resulted in the perception of sounds which had no real existence. Events of such colossal proportions, which determine in a few hours the fate of great nations, leave naturally a powerful impress upon contemporaries not only, butalso upon the children of that race. Such was, among others, the fearful battle on the Catalaunian Fields, in which the Visi-Goths and Aetius conquered Attila, and one hundred and sixty-two thousand warriors were slain. It was at the time reported that the intense bitterness and exasperation of the armies continued even after the battle, and that for three days the spirits of the fallen were contending with each other with unabated fury. The report grew into a legend, till a firm belief was established that the battle was fought year after year on the memorable day, and that any visitor might behold the passionate spirits as they rose from their graves, armed with their ancient weapons and filled with undiminished fury. One by one the soldiers of the two armies, it was said, leave their lowly graves, rise high into the air, and engage in deadly but silent strife, till they vanish in the clouds. It is well known how successfully the great German painter, Kaulbach, has reproduced the vision in his magnificent fresco of the "Hunnenschlacht." In other countries these ghostly visions assume different forms. Thus the neighborhood of Kerope, in Livonia, is in like manner renowned for a long series of fearful butcheries during the wars between the German knights and the Muscovites. There also, night after night, the shadowy battle is fought over again; but the clashing of arms and the hoarse war-cries are distinctly heard, and the pious traveler hastens away from the blood-soaked plains, uttering his prayers for the souls of the slain. In theHighlands of Scotland also, and on the adjoining islands, most weird and gruesome sights have been watched by young and old in every generation. The dark, dismal atmosphere of those regions, the dense fogs and impenetrable mists, now rising from the sea, and now descending from the mountains, and the fierce, inclement climate, have all combined for ages to predispose the mind for the perception of such strange and mysterious phenomena. Nearly every clan and every family has its own particular ghost, and besides these the whole nation claims a number of common visions and prophetic spirits, whose harps and wild songs are heard faintly and fearfully sounding on high. A friend of Mr. Martin, the author of a work on "Second Sight," used to recite several stanzas belonging to such a prophetic song, which he had heard himself on a sad November day, as it came to him through the drooping clouds and sweeping mists from the summit of a lonely mountain. At funerals also, wonderful voices were heard high in the air, as they accompanied the chanting of the people below, with a music not born upon earth, and filling the heart with strange but sweet sadness. Nearly the same visions are seen and the same songs are heard in Sweden and Norway, proving conclusively that like climatic influences produce also a similar magic life, in individuals not only, but in whole nations. For even if we are disposed to look upon these phenomena as merely strange appearances of clouds and mists, accompanied by the howlingand whistling of the wind and the tumbling down of rocks and gravel, there remains the uniformity with which thousands of every generation interpret these sights and sounds into weird visions and solemn chantings.
It is, however, not quite so evident why the peculiar class of visions which is often erroneously called second sight—the beholding of a "double"—should be almost entirely confined to these same northern regions. It is, of course, not unknown to other lands also, and even Holy Writ seems to justify the presumption that the idea of a "double" was familiar to the people of Palestine. For the poor damsel Rhoda, who "for gladness" did not open the door at which Peter knocked, after he had been miraculously liberated, but ran to announce his presence to the friends who were assembled at the house of Mark's brother, was first called mad, and then told: "It is his angel" (Acts xii. 13). They evidently meant, not that it was the spirit of their deceased friend, since they would have been made aware of his death, but a phantom representing his living body. But the number of authentic cases of persons who have seen their own form, is vastly greater at the North than anywhere else. The Celtic superstition of the "fetch," as the appearance of a person's "double" is there called, is too well known to require explanation. But the vision itself is one of the most interesting in the study of magic, since it exhibits most strikingly the great power which the human soul may, under peculiarcircumstances, gain and exercise over its own self, leading to complete self-delusion.
A case in which this strange abdication of all self-control led to most desirable consequences, is mentioned by Dr. Mayo. A young man recently from Oxford once saw a friend of his enter the room in which he was dining with some companions. The new comer, just returning from hunting, seemed to them to look unusually pale and was evidently in a state of great excitement. After much urging he at last confessed that he had been seriously disturbed in mind by a man who had kept him close company all the way home. This stranger, on horseback like himself, had been his exact image, down to a new bridle, his own invention, which he had tried that day for the first time. He fancied that this "double" was his own ghost and an omen of his impending death. His friends advised him to confer with the head of his college; this was done, and the latter gave him much good advice, adding the hope that the warning would not be allowed to pass unimproved. It is certain that the apparition made so strong an impression upon the young man as to lead to his entire reformation, at least for a time.
It is claimed by many writers that there are persons who continually have visions, because they live in constant communication with spirits, although in all cases they have to pay a fearful penalty for this sad privilege. They are invariably diseased people, mostly women, who fall into trances, have cataleptic attacks, or suffer ofeven more painful maladies, and during the time of their affliction behold and converse with the inmates of another world. The most renowned of these seers was a Mrs. Hauffe, who has become well known to the reading world through Dr. J. Kerner's famous work, "The Seeress of Prevorst." A peculiar feature in her case was the fact that the visions she had were invariably announced to bystanders by peculiar sounds, heard by all who were present. The forms assumed by her mysterious visitors varied almost infinitely; now it was a man in a brown gown, and now a woman in white. Often, when the spirits appeared in the open air, and she tried to escape from them by running, she was bodily lifted up and hurried along so fast that her companions could not keep pace with her. It was only later in life that she fell as a patient into the hands of Dr. Kerner, who was quite distinguished as a poet, and had a great renown as a physician for insane people of a special class. His house at Weinsberg in Würtemberg, was filled to overflowing with persons of all classes of society, from the highest to the lowest, and all had visions. Nor was the doctor himself excluded; he also was a seer, and has given in the above-mentioned book a full and most interesting account of the diseases in connection with which magic phenomena are most frequently observed. By the aid of careful observation of actual facts, and using such revelations vouchsafed to him and others as he believed fully trustworthy, he formed a regular theory of visions. First of all he admits thatthe privilege of communing with spirits is a grievous affliction, and that all of his more thoughtful patients continually prayed to be delivered of the burden. It is evident from all he states that not only the body, but the mind also suffers—and in many cases suffers unto destruction—under the effects of such exceptional powers; that in fact the lines of separation between this life and another life can never be crossed with impunity. His most interesting patient, Mrs. Hauffe, presents the usual mixture of mere fanciful imagery with occasional flashes of truth; her genuine revelations were marvelous, and can only be explained upon the ground of real magic; but with them are mixed up the most absurd theories and the most startling contradictions. She insisted, however, upon the fact that only those spirits could commune with mortal man who were detained in the middle realm—between heaven and hell—the spirits of men who were in this life unable, though not unwilling, to believe that "God could forgive their sins for the sake of Christ's death." She was often tried by Dr. Kerner and others; she was told that certain still living persons had died, and asked to summon their spirits, but she was never misled. There can be no doubt that the poor woman was sincere in her statements; but she was apparently unable to distinguish between real visions in a trance and the mere offspring of her imagination. That her peculiarities were closely connected with her bodily condition is, moreover, proved by the fact that her whole family sufferedin similar manner and enjoyed similar powers; a brother and a sister, as well as her young son, all had visions and heard mysterious noises. The latter were, in fact, perceptible to all the inmates of the strange house; even the great skeptic, Dr. Strausz, who once visited it, heard "long, fearful groanings" close to his amiable hostess, who had fallen asleep on her sofa. Nor were the ghosts content with disturbing the patients and their excellent physician; they made themselves known to their friends and neighbors, also, and even the good minister in the little town had much to suffer from nightly knockings and strange utterances.
Dr. Kerner himself heard many spirits, but saw only one, and that only as "a grayish pillar;" on the other hand he witnessed countless mysterious phenomena which occurred in his patients' bedrooms. Now he beheld Mrs. Hauffe's boots pulled off by invisible hands, while she herself was lying almost inanimate, in a trance, on her bed, and now he heard her reveal secrets which, upon writing to utterly unknown persons at a great distance, proved to be correctly stated. What makes a thorough investigation of all these phenomena peculiarly difficult, is the fact that Dr. Kerner's house became an asylum for somnambulists as well as for real patients, and that by this mixture the scientific value of his observations, as regards their psychological interest, is seriously impaired. He himself was a sincere believer in magic phenomena; almost all of his friends and neighbors, from the humblest peasant tothe most cultivated men of science, believed in him and his statements, and there can be no doubt that astonishing revelations were made and extraordinary powers became manifest in his house. But here, also, the difficulty of separating the few grains of truth from the great mass of willful, as well as of unconscious delusion, is almost overwhelming, and our final judgment must be held in suspense, till more light has been thrown on the subject. Dr. Kerner's son, who succeeded his father at his death in 1862, still keeps up the remarkable establishment at Weinsberg; but exclusively for the cure of certain diseases by magnetism.
VI.
"There shall not be found among you any one that useth divination."—Deut.xviii. 9.
The usual activity of our mind is limited to the perception of the world around us, and its life, as far as the power of our senses reaches; it must, therefore, necessarily be confined within the limits of space and time. There are, however, specially favored men among us who profess an additional power, or even ordinary men may be thus endowed under peculiar circumstances, as when they are under the influence of nervous affections, trances, or even merely in an unusual state of excitement. Then they are no longer subject to the usual laws of distance in space, or remoteness in time; they perceive as immediately present what lies beyond the reach of others, and the magic power by which this is accomplished is called Divination. This vision is never quite clear, nor always complete or correct, for even such exceptionable powers are in all cases more or less subject to the imperfections of our nature; habitual notions, an ill-executed imagination, and often a disordered state of the system, all interfere with its perfect success. These imperfections, moreover, not only affect the value of such magic perceptions, but obscure the genuine features by a number of false statements and of erroneous impressions, which quite legitimately excite a strong prejudice against the whole subject. Hence, especially, the rigor of the Church against divination in every form; it has ever ascribed the errors mixed up with the true parts of such revelations to the direct influence of the Evil One. The difficulty, however, arises that such magic powers have nothing at all to do with the question of morality; the saint and the criminal may possess them alike, since they are elements of our common nature, hidden in the vast majority of cases, and coming into view and into life only in rare exceptional instances.
Divination, as freed from the ordinary limits of our perceptions, appears either as clairvoyance, when things are seen which are beyond the range of natural vision, or as prophecy, when the boundary lines of time are overstepped. The latter appears again in its weakest form as a mere anticipation of things to come, or rises to perfection in the actual foretelling of future events. It is sad enough to learn from the experience of all nations that the occurrences thus foreseen are almost invariably great misfortunes, yet our surprise will cease if we remember that the tragic in life exercises by far the greatest influence on our mind, and excites it far beyond all other events. Nor must we overlook the marvelous unanimity with which such magic powers are admitted to exist in Man by all nations on earth. The explanation, also, is invariably the same, namely, that Man possessed originally the command over spaceand time as well as God himself, but that when sin came into the world and affected his earth-born body, this power was lost, and preserved only to appear in exceptional and invariably most painful cases. So thought the ancients even long before revelation had spoken. They believed that Man had had a previous god-like existence before appearing upon earth, where he was condemned to expiate the sins of his former life, while his immortal and divine soul was chained to a perishing earthy body. Plato, Plutarch, and Pythagoras, Cicero (in his bookDe Divinatione), and even Porphyrius, all admit without hesitation the power of divination, and speak of its special vigor in the moments preceding death. Melanchthon ascribed warning dreams to the prophetic power of the human soul. Brierre de Boismont also is forced to admit that not all cases of clairvoyance and prophesying are the results of hallucination by diseased persons; he speaks, on the contrary, and in spite of his bitter skepticism, of instances in which the increased powers of perception are the effect of "supernatural intuition."
One of the most prolific sources of error in Divination has ever been the variety of means employed for the purpose of causing the preparatory state of trance. It is well known in our day that the mind may be most strangely affected by innumerable agencies which are apparently purely mechanical, and often utterly absurd. Such are an intent gazing at highly-polished surfaces of metal, or into the bright inside of a goldcup, at the shining sides of a crystal, or the varying hues of a glass globe; now vessels filled with pure water, and now ink poured into the hand of a child, answer the same purpose. Fortune-telling from the lines of the hand or the chance combinations of playing-cards are, in this aspect, on a par with the prophecies of astrologers drawn from the constellations in the heavens. It need hardly be added that this almost infinite variety of more or less absurd measures has nothing at all to do with the awaking of magic power, and continues in use only from the prestige which some of the means, like the cup of Joseph and the mirror of Varro, derive from their antiquity. Their sole purpose is uniformly to withdraw the seer's attention from all outward objects, and to make him, by steadily gazing at one and the same object, concentrate his thoughts and feelings exclusively upon his own self. Experience has taught that such efforts, long continued, result finally in utter loss of feeling, in unconsciousness, and frequently even in catalepsy. It is generally only under such peculiarly painful circumstances that the unusual powers of our being can become visible and begin to operate. While these results may be obtained, as recent experiments have proved, even by mere continued squinting, barbarous nations employ the most violent means for the same purpose—the whirling of dervishes, the drumming and dancing of northern shamans, the deafening music of the Moors, are all means of the same kind to excite therude and fierce nature of savages to a state of excessive excitement. In all cases, however, we must notice the comparative sterility of such divination, and the penalty which has to be paid for most meagre results by injuries inflicted upon the body, and by troubles caused in the mind, which, if they do not become fatal to life, are invariably so to happiness and peace. That the sad privilege may have to be paid for with life itself, we learn already from Plutarch's account of a priestess who became so furious while prophesying, that not only the strangers but the priests themselves fled in dismay, while she herself expired a few hours later (II. p. 438).
The state in which all forms of divination are most apt to show themselves is by theologians calledecstasis, when it is caused by means specially employed for the purpose and appears as a literally "being beside one's self"; by its side they speak ofraptus, when the abnormal state suddenly begins during an act of ordinary life, such as walking, working, or even praying. The distinction is of no value as to the nature of the magic powers themselves, which are in all cases the same; it refers exclusively to the outer form.
One of the simplest methods is the Deasil-walking of the Scotch Highlanders: the seer walks rapidly three times, with the sun, around the person whose future is to be foretold, and thus produces a trance, in which his magic powers become available. Walter Scott's "Chronicles of the Canongate" gives a full account of this ceremony. Robin Oig's aunt performs the ceremony, and then warns him in great terror, that she has seen a bloody dagger in his hand, stained with English blood, and beseeches him to stay at home. He disregards the omen, kills the same night an Englishman, a cattle-dealer, and pays for the crime with his life.
In the East, on the contrary, the usual form is to employ a young boy, taken at haphazard from the street, and to force him to gaze intently at Indian ink poured into the hollow of the hand, at molten lead, wax poured into cold water, the paten of a priest or a shining sword, with which several men have been killed. General readers will recall the famous boy of Cairo, who saw thus, in the dark, glittering surface of ink, the great Nelson—curiously enough as in a mirror, for he reported the image to be without the left arm and to wear the left sleeve across the breast, while the great admiral had lost his right arm and wore the right sleeve suspended. Burke, in his amusing "Anecdotes of the Aristocracy," etc. (I. p. 124), relates how the "magician" Magraubin in Alexandria appeared with a ten-year-old Coptic boy before the officers of H. M's. shipVanguard. After burning much incense and uttering many unintelligible formulas he rolled a paper in the shape of a cornucopia, filled it with ink, and bade the boy tell them what he saw. As usual, he saw first a broom sweeping, and was thoroughly frightened. When a young midshipman asked him to inquire what would be his fate, he described instantly a sailor with gold on the shoulders,fighting against Indians till he fell dead; then came friends and buried him under a tree on a hill. The midshipman, Croker, returned home, abandoned the sea, and became a landowner in one of the midland counties of England, where he often laughed at the absurd prediction. Long years afterwards, however, when there was a sudden want of seamen, he was recalled into service and sent on a long cruise. He rose to become a captain, and while in command of a frigate fell, upon the island of Tongataboo, in a skirmish with the natives, whereupon he was interred there under a lofty palm-tree which stood on a commanding eminence. The same author repeats (I. p. 357) the well-known story of Lady Eleanor Campbell, which is in substance as follows:
Poor Lady Primrose, a daughter of the second Earl of Loudoun, had for years endured the saddest lot that can befall a noble woman: she had been bound by marriage to a husband whose dissolute habits and untamable passions inspired her with fear, while his short love for her had long since turned into bitter hatred. At last he formed the resolution to rid himself forever of his wife, whose very piety and gentleness were a standing reproof to his villainy. By a rare piece of good luck she was awake when he came from his deep potations, a bare sword in his hand, and ready to kill her; she saw him in the mirror before which she happened to be sitting, and escaped by jumping from a window and hastening to her husband's own mother. After thisattempt at her life he disappeared, no one knew whither, but the poor lady, forsaken and yet not a widow, could not prevent her thoughts from dwelling, by day and by night, year after year, upon the image of her unfortunate husband and his probable fate in foreign lands. It was, therefore, not without a pardonable interest that she heard, one winter, people talk of a foreigner who had suddenly appeared in Canongate and created a great sensation throughout Edinburgh by his success in showing to inquiring visitors what their absent friends were doing. Her intense anxiety about her husband and her natural desire to ascertain whether she was still a wife or already a widow, combined to tempt her to call on the magician; she went, therefore, with a friend, both disguised in the tartans and plaids of their maids. Before they reached the obscure alley to which they had been directed, they lost their way, and were standing helpless, exposed to the cold, stormy weather, when suddenly a deep voice said to them: "You are mistaken, ladies, this is not your way!" "How so?" asked Lady Primrose, addressing a tall, gentlemanly looking man, with a stern face of deep olive color, in which a pair of black eyes shone like stars, and dressed in an elegant but foreign-looking costume. The answer came promptly: "You are mistaken in your way, because it lies yonder, and in your disguise, because it does not conceal you from him who can lift the veil of the Future!" Then followed a short conversation in which the stranger made himselfknown as the magician whom they were about to visit, and, by some words whispered into the lady's ear, as a man who not only recognized her as Lady Primrose, but who also was perfectly well acquainted with all the intimate details of her history. Amazed and not a little frightened, the two ladies accepted his courteous invitation to follow him, entered the house, and were shown into a simply furnished room, where the stranger begged them to wait for him, till all was ready for the ceremony by which alone he could satisfy their curiosity. After a short pause he reappeared in the traditional costume of a magician, a long tunic of black velvet which left his breast, arms, and hands free, and requested Lady Primrose to follow him into the adjoining room. After some little hesitation she left her companion and entered the room, which was perfectly plain, offering nothing to attract the eye save the dark curtains before the windows, an old-fashioned arm-chair, and a kind of altar of black marble, over which a large and beautiful mirror was suspended. Before the latter stood a small oven, in which some unknown substance burnt with a blue light, which alone feebly lighted up the room. The visitor was requested to sit down, to invoke help from above, and to abstain from uttering a sound, if she valued her life and that of the magician. After some simple but apparently most important ceremonies, the magician threw a pinch of red powder upon the flame, which instantly changed into bright crimson, while a few plaintive sounds were heard and red cloudsseemed to rise before the mirror, broken at short intervals by vivid flashes of lightning. As the mist dispersed the glass exhibited to the lady's astonished eye the interior of a church, first in vague outlines undulating as passing clouds seemed to set them in motion, but soon distinctly and clear in the minutest details. Then a priest appeared with his acolytes at the altar, and a wedding party was seen standing before him, among whom Lady Primrose soon recognized her faithless husband. Before she could recover from her painful surprise she saw a stranger hastily entering the church, wrapped in his cloak; at the moment when the priest, who had been performing the usual ceremony, was about to join the hands of the couple before him, the unknown dropped his cloak and rushed forward. Lady Primrose saw it was her own brother, who drew his sword and attacked her husband; suddenly a thrust was made by the latter which threatened to be fatal, and the poor lady cried out: "Great God, they will kill my brother!" She had no sooner uttered these words than the whole scene in the mirror became dim and blurred, the clouds rose again and formed dense masses, and soon the glass resumed its ordinary brightness and the flame its faint blue color. The magician, apparently much excited, informed the lady that all was over, and that they had escaped a most fearful danger, incurred by her imprudence in speaking. He would accept no reward, stating that he had merely wished to oblige her, but would not have dared do somuch, if he had foreseen the peril to which they had both been exposed. Lady Primrose, accompanied by her friend, reached home in a state of extreme excitement, but immediately wrote down the hour and the day of her strange adventure, with a full account of all she had seen in the magic mirror. The paper thus drawn up she sealed in the presence of her companion and hid it in a secret drawer. Not long afterwards her brother returned from the Continent, but for some time refused to speak at all of her husband; it was only after being long and urgently pressed by the poor lady, that he consented to tell her, how he had heard of Lord Primrose's intention to marry a very wealthy lady in Amsterdam, how by mere chance he had entered the church where the marriage ceremony was to be performed, and how he had come out just in time to prevent his brother-in-law from committing bigamy. They had fought for a few minutes without doing each other any injury, and after being separated, he had remained, while Lord Primrose had disappeared, no one knew whither. Upon comparing dates and circumstances, it appeared that the mirror had presented the scene faithfully in all its details; but the ceremony had taken place in the morning, the visit to the magician at night, so that the latter had, after all, only revealed an event already completed. There remains, however, the difficulty of accounting for the means by which in those days—about 1700—an event in Amsterdam couldpossibly have been known in Edinburgh, the night of the same day on which it occurred.
In France, under Louis XIV., a glass of water was most frequently used as a mirror in which to read the future. The Duke of St. Simon reports that the Duke of Orleans was thus informed that he would one day become Regent of France. The Abbé Choisy mentions a remarkable occurrence which took place at the house of the Countess of Soissons, a niece of the great Cardinal Mazarin. Her husband was lying sick in the province of Champagne, and she was anxious to know whether she ought to undertake the long and perilous journey to him or not; in this dilemma a friend offered to send for a diviner, who should tell her the issue of her husband's illness. He brought her a little girl, five years old, who, in the presence of a number of distinguished persons of both sexes, began, under the nobleman's direction, to tell what she saw in a glass of water. When she began by saying that the water looked as if it were troubled, the poor lady was so frightened that her friend suggested he would ask the spirit to show the child not her husband himself, but a white horse, if the Count was dead, and a tiger if he was alive. Then he asked the girl what she saw now? "Ah!" she cried out at once, "what a pretty white horse!" The company, however, refused to be content with one trial; five times in succession the test was altered, and in such a manner that the little child could not possibly be aware of the choice, but in each case theanswer was unfavorable to the absent Count. It appeared, afterwards, that he had really died a day or two before the consultation. One of the most striking cases of such exceptional endowment was a Frenchman, Cahagnet, who in his work,Lumière des Morts(Paris, 1851), claimed to see remote objects and persons. He used to make a mental effort, upon which his eyes became fixed and he saw objects at a great distance, reading the title and discerning the precise shape of books in public libraries, or watching absent friends engaged in unusual occupations! This state of clairvoyance, however, never lasted more than sixty seconds, nor could he ever see the same object twice—limitations of his endowment which secured for him greater credit than he would have otherwise possessed. Occasionally he would assist the effort he had to make by fixedly gazing at some shining object, such as a small flaw in a mirror or a glass. Another restraint under which he labored, and which yet increased the faith of others, consisted in this, that such sights as presented themselves spontaneously to him proved invariably to be true, while the visions which he purposely evoked were not unfrequently unfounded in fact.
Among recent magicians of this class, a Parisian, Edmond, is perhaps the most generally known. He is a man without education, who leads a life of asceticism, and is said to equal the famous Lennormand in his ability to guess the future by gazing intently at certain cards. The latter, although not free from the chargeof charlatanism, possessed undoubtedly the most extraordinary talent of divining the thoughts of those who came to consult her, and an almost marvelous tact in connecting the knowledge thus obtained with the events of the day. She began her career already as a young girl at a convent-school, where her playmates asked her laughing who would be the next abbess, and she mentioned an entirely unknown lady from Picardy as the one that would be appointed by the king. Contrary to all expectations the favorite candidates were put aside, and the unknown lady appointed, although eighteen months elapsed before her prophecy was fulfilled. As early as 1789 she predicted the overthrow of the French government, and during the Revolution her reputation was such that the first men of the land came to consult her. The unfortunate princess Lamballe and Mirabeau, Mme. de Staël and the king himself, all appeared in her stately apartments. Her efforts to save the queen, to whose prison she managed to obtain access, were unsuccessful; but when her aristocratic connections caused her to be imprisoned herself, even the noble and virtuous Mme. Tallien sought her society. The new dynasty, whose members were almost without exception more or less superstitious, as it is the nature of all Corsicans, consulted her frequently; the great Napoleon came to her in 1793, when he was disgusted with France, and on the point of leaving the country; he sent for her a second time in 1801 to confer with her at Malmaison,and the fair Josephine actually conceived for her a deep and lasting attachment. Afterwards, however, she became as obnoxious to the Emperor as his inveterate enemy, Mme. de Staël; she was repeatedly sent to prison because she predicted failures, as in the case of the projected invasion of England, or because she revealed the secret plans of Napoleon. The Emperor Alexander of Russia also consulted her in 1818, and of the Prussian king, Frederick William III., it is at least reported that he visited her incognito. After the year 1830 she appeared but rarely in her character as a diviner; she had become old and rich, and did not perhaps wish to risk her world-wide reputation by too numerous revelations. She maintained, however, for the rest of her life the most intimate relations with many eminent men in France, and when she died, in 1843, seventy-one years old, leaving to her nephew a very large fortune, her gorgeous funeral was attended by a host of distinguished personages, including even men of such character as Guizot. And yet she also had not disdained to use the most absurd and apparently childish means in order to produce the state of ecstasy in which she alone could divine: playing-cards fancifully arranged, the white of an egg, the sediment of coffee, or the lines in the hand of her visitors. At the same time, however, she used the information which she casually picked up or purposely obtained from her great friends with infinite cunning and matchless tact, so that the better informed often asked her laughinglyif her familiar spirit Ariel was not also known as Talleyrand, David, or Geoffroy? The charlatanism which often and most justly rendered her proceedings suspicious to sober men, was in fact part of her system; she knew perfectly well the old doctrine,mundus vult decipi, and did not hesitate to flatter the fondness of all Frenchmen for a theatricalmise en scène.
Dryden's famous horoscope of his younger son Charles was probably nothing more than one of those rare but striking coincidences of which the laws of probability give us the exact value. He loved the study of astrology and never omitted to calculate the nativity of his children as soon as they were born. In the case of Charles he discovered that great dangers would threaten him in his eighth, twenty-third, and thirty-third or forty-third year; and sure enough those years produced serious troubles. On his eighth birthday he was buried under a falling wall; on the twenty-third he fell in Rome from an old tower, and on his thirty-third he was drowned in the Thames.
Divination by means of bones—generally the shoulder bones of rams—is quite common among the Mongols and Tongoose, and the custom seems to have remained unchanged through centuries. For Purchas already quotes from the "Journal" of the Minorite monk Guillaume de Rubruguis, written in 1255, a description of the manner in which the Great Khan of Mongolia tried to ascertain the result of any great enterprise which he might contemplate. Three shoulderbones of rams were brought to him, which he held for some time in his hands, while deeply meditating on the subject; then he threw them into the fire. After they were burnt black they were again laid before him and examined; if they had cracked lengthways the omen was favorable, if crossways the enterprise was abandoned. Almost identically the same process is described by the great traveler Pallas, who witnessed it repeatedly and obtained very startling communications from the Mongol priests. But here also violent dancing, narcotic perfumes, and wild cries had to aid in producing a trance. The Laplanders have, perhaps, the most striking magic powers which seem to be above suspicion. At least we are assured by every traveler who has spent some time among them, from Caspar Peucer ("Commentaries," etc., Wittebergae, 1580, p. 132) down to the tourists of our days ("Six Months in Lapland," 1870), that they not only see persons at the greatest distance, but furnish minute details as to their occupation or surroundings. After having invoked the aid of his gods the magician falls down like a dead man and remains in a state of trance for twenty-four hours, during which foreigners are always warned to have him carefully guarded, "lest the demons should carry him off." During this time the seer maintains that his "soul opens the gates of the body and moves about freely wherever it chooses to go." When he returns to consciousness he describes accurately and minutely the persons about whom he has promised to give information. In theEast Indies it is well known clairvoyance has existed from time immemorial, and the kind of trance which consists in utter oblivion of actual life and perfect abstraction of thought from this world is there carried out to perfection. The faithful believer sits or lies down in any position he may happen to prefer for the moment, fixes his eyes intently upon the point of his nose, mutters the word One, and finally beholds God with an inner sense, in the form of a white brilliant light of ineffable splendor. Some of these ascetics pass from a simple trance to a state of catalepsy, in which their bodies become insensible to pain—but this kind ofecstasisis not accompanied by divination.
Another branch of divination conquers the difficulty which distance in space opposes to our ordinary perceptions. In all such cases it is of course not our hearing or smelling which suddenly becomes miraculously powerful, but another magic power, which causes impressions on the mind like those produced by the eye and the ear. The oldest well-authenticated instance of magic hearing is probably that of Hyrcanus, the high-priest of the Jews, who while burning incense in the temple, heard a voice saying: "Now Antiochus has been slain by thy sons." The news was immediately proclaimed to the people, and some time afterward messengers came announcing that Antiochus had thus perished as he approached Samaria, which he desired to relieve from the besieging army under the sons of Hyrcanus (Josephus, "Antiq." lxiii. ch. 19). A stillmore striking instance is also reported by a trustworthy author (Theophylactos Simocata, l. viii. ch. 13). A man in Alexandria, Egypt, saw, as he returned home about midnight, the statues before the great temple moved aside from their seats, and heard them call out to him that the Emperor had been slain by Phocas (602). Thoroughly frightened he hastened to the authorities, reporting his adventure; he was carried before Peter, the Viceroy of Egypt, and ordered to keep silence. Nine days later, however, the official news came that the Emperor had been murdered. It is evident that the knowledge of the event came to him in some mysterious way, and for an unknown purpose; but that what he saw and heard, was purely the work of his imagination, which became the vehicle of the revelation.
There exists a long, almost unbroken series of similar phenomena through the entire course of modern history, of which but a few can here find space. Richelieu tells us in hisMémoires("Coll. Michaud—Poryoulat," 2d series, vii. p. 23), that thePrévost des Maréchauxof the city of Pithiviers was one night engaged in playing cards in his house, when he suddenly hesitated, fell into a deep musing, and then, turning to his companions, said solemnly: "The king has just been murdered!" These words made a deep impression upon all the members of the assembly, which afterward changed into genuine terror, when it became known that on that same evening, at the same hour of four o'clock,P. M., Henry IV. had really been murdered. Nor was this asolitary case, for on the same day a girl of fourteen, living near the city of Orleans, had asked her father, Simonne, what a king was? Upon his replying that it was the man who commanded all Frenchmen, she had exclaimed: "Great God, I have this moment heard somebody tell me that he was murdered!" It seems that the minds of men were just then everywhere deeply interested in the fate of the king, and hence their readiness to anticipate an event which was no doubt very generally apprehended; even from abroad numerous letters had been received announcing his death beforehand. In the two cases mentioned this excitement had risen to divination. The author of the famousZauber Bibliothek, Horst, mentions (i. p. 285) that his father, a well-known missionary, was once traveling in company with the renowned Hebrew scholar Wiedemann, while a third companion, ordinarily engaged with them in converting Jews, was out at sea. It was a fine, bright day; no rain or wind visible even at a distance. Wiedemann had walked for some time in deep silence, apparently engaged in praying, when suddenly he stopped and said: "Monsieur Horst, take your diary and write down, that our companion is at this moment exposed to great peril by water. The storm will last till night and the danger will be fearful; but the Lord will mercifully preserve him and the vessel, and no lives will be lost. Write it down carefully, so that when our friend returns, we may jointly thank God for His great mercy." The missionary did so, and when the three friends wereunited once more their diaries were compared, and it appeared that the statement had been exact in all its details.
Clairvoyance, as far as it implies the seeing of persons or the witnessing of events at a great distance, is counted among the most frequent gifts of early saints, and St. Augustine mentions a number of remarkable cases. Not only absent friends and their fate were thus beheld by privileged Christians, but even the souls of departing saints were seen as they were borne to heaven by angelic hosts. The same exceptional gifts were apparently granted to the early Jesuit fathers; thus Xavier once saw distinctly a whole naval expedition sailing against the pirates of Malacca and defeating them in a great naval battle. He had himself caused the fleet to be sent from Sumatra, and remained during the whole time in a trance. He had fallen down unconscious at the foot of the altar, where he had been fervently praying for a long time, and during his unconsciousness he saw not only a general image of what was occurring at a distance of 200 Portuguese leagues, but every detail, so that upon recovering from the trance he could announce to his brethren the good news of a great victory, of the loss of only three lives, and of the very day and hour on which the official report would be received (Orlandini, l. vii. ch. 84). Queen Margaret, not always reliable, still seems to state well-known facts only, when she tells us in her famousMémoires(Paris, 1658) the visions of her mother, the great Queen Catherine deMedici. The latter was lying dangerously ill at Metz, and King Charles, a sister, and another brother of Margaret of Valois, the Duke of Lorraine, and a number of eminent persons of both sexes, were assembled around what was believed to be her death-bed. She was delirious, and suddenly cried out: "Just see how they run! my son is victorious. Great God! raise him up, he has fallen! Do you see the Prince of Condé there? He is dead." Everybody thought she was delirious, but on the next evening a messenger came bringing the news of the battle of Jarnac, and as he mentioned the main events, she calmly turned to her children, saying: "Ah! I knew; I saw it all yesterday!" It seems as if in times of great and general expectation, when bloody battles are fought, and the destiny of empires hangs in the scales, the minds of the masses become so painfully excited that the most sensitive among them fall into a kind of trance, and then perceive, by magic powers of divination, what is taking place at great distances. This over-excitement is, moreover, not unknown to men of the highest character and the greatest erudition. Calvin, whose stern, clear-sighted judgment abhorred all superstition, nevertheless once saw a battle between Catholics and Protestants with all its details. Swedenborg, whose religious enthusiasm never interfered with his scrupulous candor, saw more than once with his mind's eye events occurring at a distance of hundreds of miles. His vision of the great fire at Stockholm is too well authenticated to admit of doubt. Not less reliable arethe accounts of another vision he had at Amsterdam in the presence of a large company. While engaged in animated conversation, he suddenly changed countenance and became silent; the persons near him saw that he was under the influence of some strong impression. After a few moments he seemed to recover, and overwhelmed with questions, he at last reluctantly said: "In this hour the Emperor Peter IV. of Russia has suffered death in his prison!" It was ascertained afterwards that the unfortunate sovereign had died on that day and in the manner indicated.
Among modern seers the most remarkable was probably the well-known poet, Émile Deschamps, who published in 1838 interesting accounts of his own experiences. When he was only eight years old it was decided that he should leave Paris and be sent to Orleans; this troubled him sorely, and in his great grief he found some little comfort in setting his lively fancy to work and to imagine what the new city would be like. When he reached Orleans he was extremely surprised to recognize the streets, the shops, and even the names on the sign-boards, everything was exactly as he had seen it in his day-dreams. While he was yet there he saw his mother, whom he had left in Paris, in a dream rising gently heavenwards with a palm-branch in her hand, and heard her voice, very faint but silvery, call to him, "Émile, Émile, my son!" She had died in the same night, uttering these words with her departing breath. Later in life he often heard strangebut enchanting music while in a state of partial ecstasis; he saw distant events, and, among others, distinctly described a barricade, the defenders of the adjoining house, and certain events connected with the fight at that spot, as they had happened in Paris on the same day (Le Concile de la libre pensée, i. p. 183).
A still higher power of divination enables men to read in the faces and forms of others, even of totally unknown persons, not only the leading traits of their character, but even the nature of their former lives. There can be no doubt that every important event in our life leaves a more or less perceptible trace behind, which the acute and experienced observer may learn to read with tolerable distinctness and accuracy. It is well known how the study of the human face enables us thus to discern one secret after another, and how really great men have possessed the power to judge of the capacity of generals or statesmen to serve them, by natural instinct and without any effort. We say of specially endowed men of this class, that they "can read the souls of men," and what is most interesting is the well-established fact that the purer the mind and the freer from selfishness and conceit, the greater this power to feel, as it were, the character of others. Hence the superiority of women in this respect; hence, especially, the unfailing instinct of children, which enables them instantly to distinguish affected love from real love, and makes them shrink often painfully from contact with evil men.
When this power reaches in older men a high degree of perfection, it enters within the limits of magic, and in this form was well known to the ancients. The Neo-Platonic Plotinus is reported by Porphyrius to have been almost marvelously endowed with such divining powers; he revealed to his pupils the past and the future events of their lives alike, and once charged the author himself with cherishing thoughts of suicide, when no one else suspected such a purpose. In like manner, we are told, Ancus Nævius, the famous augur of the first Tarquins, could read all he desired to know in the faces of others. The saints of the church were naturally as richly endowed, and from Filipo Neri to Xavier nearly all possessed this peculiar gift of divination. But other men, also, and by no means always those most abundantly endowed with mental superiority, have frequently a peculiar talent of this kind. Thus the well-known writer Zschokke, the author of the admirable work, "Hours of Devotion," gives in his autobiographical work,Selbstschau, a full account of his peculiar gifts as a seer, which contains the following principal facts: At the moment when an utter stranger was first introduced to him, he saw a picture of his whole previous life rising gradually before his mind's eye, resembling somewhat a long dream, but clear and closely connected. During this time he would, contrary to his general custom, lose sight of the visitor's face and no longer hear his voice. He used to treat these involuntary revelations at first as mere idle fancies, tillone day he was led by a kind of sportive impulse to tell his family the secret history of a seamstress who had just left the room, and whom he had never seen before. It was soon ascertained that all he had stated was perfectly true, though known only to very few persons. From that time he treated these visions more seriously, taking pains to repeat them in a number of cases to the persons whom they concerned, and to his own great amazement they turned out in every case to be perfectly accurate. The author adds one case of peculiarly striking nature: "One day," he says, "I reached the town of Waldshut, accompanied by two young foresters, who are still alive. It was dusk, and tired by our walk we entered an inn called The Grapevine. We took our supper at the public table in company with numerous guests, who happened to be laughing at the oddities and the simplicity of the Swiss, their faith in Mesmer, in Lavater's 'System of the Physiognomy,' etc. One of my companions, hurt in his national pride, asked me to make a reply, especially with regard to a young man sitting opposite to us, whose pretentious airs and merciless laughter had been peculiarly offensive. It so happened that, a few moments before, the main events in the life of this person had passed before my mind's eye. I turned to him and asked him if he would answer me candidly upon being told the most secret parts of his life by a man who was so complete a stranger to him as I was? That, I added, would certainly go even beyond Lavater's power to read faces. He promised to confess it openly, if I stated facts. Thereupon I related all I had seen in my mind, and informed thus the whole company at table of the young man's history, the events of his life at school, his petty sins, and at last a robbery which he had committed by pilfering his employer's strong-box. I described the empty room with its whitewashed walls and brown door, near which on the right hand, a small black money-box had been standing on a table, and other details. As long as I spoke there reigned a deathlike silence in the room, which was only interrupted by my asking the young man, from time to time, if all I said was not true. He admitted everything, although evidently in a state of utter consternation, and at last, deeply touched by his candor, I offered him my hand across the table and closed my recital."