Chapter II: Part 2

In the meantime, the clergyman, and the schoolmaster with his scholars, proceeded to the entrance of the village to meet the corpse; and, as the funeral came along the meadow in this array, the grave-digger stepped up to the clergyman, pulled him by the gown, pointed with his finger to it, and said not a word.

Such was the tale, with all its circumstances, as related by the clergyman. I was well acquainted with the good man: he was incapable of telling an untruth, much less in a matter which contradicted all his principles.

Another history of this kind, for the truth of which I can vouch, was related to me by my late father and his brother, both very pious men, and to whom it would have been impossible to have told a falsehood.

Both of them had business, on one occasion, in the Westphalian provence of Mark, when they were invited to dinner at the protestant preacher’s. During the repast, the subject of second-sight was likewise brought upon the carpet. The minister spoke of it with acrimony, because he had also a grave-digger who was afflicted with that evil; he had often and repeatedly forbidden him from mentioning it, but all to no purpose. On one occasion, the prognosticator came to the minister and said, “I have to tell you, sir, that in a short time there will be a funeral from your house, and you will have to follow the coffin before all the other funeral attendants.” Terror, anger, and displeasure, got so much the better of the good pastor, that he drove the thoughtless fellow out of the door; for his wife was near her confinement: and, notwithstanding every rational view which he took, he passed a melancholy time of it, till at length his wife was safely delivered and out of danger. He now reproached the grave-digger most bitterly, and said, “See, now, how unfounded thy reveries have been!” But the corpse-seer only smiled and said, “Sir, the matter is not yet finished.”

Immediately afterward the preacher’s servant-maid died of an apoplexy. Now, it is the custom there for the master of the house, on such occasions, to immediately follow the coffin, before the next relatives; but this time the preacher endeavored to avoid it, in order to confound the corpse-seer. He did not venture, however, to offend the parents of the deceased, which he would have done most grossly if he had not followed the coffin. He found, therefore, a suitable excuse in the circumstance that his wife―who, according to the custom prevalent there, was then to go to church for the first time after her confinement―should take his place, and he would then accompany the schoolmaster and his scholars, as was usual.

This was discussed and agreed upon, and the parents were likewise satisfied with it. On the day the funeral was to take place, the company assembled at the parsonage. The coffin lay on a bier in the porch; the schoolmaster with his scholars stood in a circle in front of the house and sang;―the minister was just going out to his appointed place; his wife stepped behind the coffin, and the bearers laid hold of the bier, when that very moment the minister’s wife fell down in a fit; she was taken into a room, and brought again to herself, but was so ill that she could not go to church; and the minister was so terrified by this accident, that it no longer occurred to him to make the grave-digger into a liar, but he stepped very quietly behind the coffin, as the prognosticator would have it.

EXTRAORDINARY FOREWARNING,

AS IT REALLY OCCURRED IN LORD TYRONE’S FAMILY, IN IRELAND.

Lord Tyrone and Lady Beresford were born in Ireland; they were both left orphans in their infancy, to the care of the same person, by whom they were both educated in the principles of Deism. When they were each of them about fourteen years of age they fell into very different hands. The persons on whom the care of them now devolved, used every possible endeavor to eradicate the erroneous principles they had imbibed, and to persuade them to embrace the revealed religion, but in vain; their arguments were insuffient to convince them, but they were powerful enough to stagger their former faith. Though now separated from each other, their friendship continued unalterable, and they seemed to regard each other with a sincere and fraternal affection. After some years had elapsed, and they were each of them grown up, they made a solemn promise to each other, that whoever should first die, would, if permitted, appear to the other to declare what religion was most approved of by the Supreme Being. Lady Beresford was shortly after addressed by Sir Marcus Beresford, to whom, after a few years; she was married; but no change in condition had power to alter her friendship; the families frequently visited each other, and often spent more than a fortnight together. A short time after one of those visits, Sir Marcus Beresford remarked when his lady came down to breakfast in the morning, that her countenance was unusually pale, and bore evident marks of terror and confusion; he inquired anxiously after her health, she assured him she was well, perfectly well; he repeated his inquiries, and begged to know if anything had disordered her; she replied no, she was as well as usual. “Have you hurt your wrist, have you sprained it?” said he, observing a black ribbon bound round it. She replied no, she had not; but added, “let me conjure you, Sir M. never to inquire the cause of my wearing this ribbon, you will never more see me without it; if it concerned you as a husband to know it, I would not for a moment conceal it from you. I never in my life denied a request, but of this I must entreat you to forgive my refusal, and never to urge me further on the subject.” “Very well, my lady, (said he, smiling) since you so earnestly desire me, I will inquire no further.” The conversation here ended; but breakfast was scarcely over when Lady B. inquired if the post was come in? she was told it was not. In a few minutes she again rang the bell for her servant, and repeated the inquiry, “Is not the post yet come?” she was told it was not. “Do you expect any letter, (said Sir M.) that you are so anxious concerning the coming of the post?” “I do, (she answered) I expect to hear that Lord Tyrone is dead: he died last Tuesday, at four o’clock.” “I never in my life, (said Sir M.) believed you superstitious, but you must have had some idle dream which has thus alarmed you.”

At that instant a servant opened the door, and delivered to them a letter, sealed with black. “It is as I expected, (exclaimed Lady B.) he is dead.” Sir M. opened the letter, it came from Lord Tyrone’s stewart, and contained the melancholy intelligence that his master died the Tuesday preceding, at the very time that Lady B. had specified. Sir M. entreated her to compose her spirits, and to endeavor as much as lay in her power not to make herself unhappy. She assured him that she felt much easier than she had for some time past; and added, “I can inform you of something which I know will prove welcome. I can assure you beyond the possibility of a doubt, that I am with child of a son.” Sir M. received the intelligence with that pleasure that might be expected, and expressed in the strongest terms, the felicity he should experience from such an event, which he had so long ardently desired.

After a period of some months, Lady B. was delivered of a son; she had before been the mother of two daughters only. Sir Marcus survived the birth of his son little more than four years. After his decease his lady went but little from home; she visited no family but that of a clergyman, who resided in the same village, with whom she frequently passed a few hours, the rest of her time was entirely devoted to solitude, and she appeared forever determined to banish all other society. The clergyman’s family consisted of himself, his wife, and one son, who at Sir M’s. death was quite a youth; to this son, however, she was afterwards married, in the space of a few years, notwithstanding the disparity of his years, and the manifest imprudence of such a connection, so unequal in every respect.

The event justified the expectation of every one. Lady B. was treated by her young husband with neglect and cruelty, and the whole of his conduct evinced him the most abandoned libertine, utterly destitute of every principle of virtue and humanity. To this her second husband, Lady B. brought two daughters; afterwards, such was the profligacy of his conduct, that she insisted upon a separation. They parted for sometime, when so great was the sorrow he expressed for his former ill conduct, that, won over by his supplication and promises, she was induced to pardon, and once more reside with him; and was, after sometime made the mother of a son.

The day on which she had him in a month, being the anniversary of her birthday, she sent for Lady ――, of whose friendship she had long been possessed, and a few friends, to request them to spend the day with her. About noon the clergyman by whom she had been baptised, and with whom she had all her life maintained an intimacy, came into the room to inquire after her health; she told him she felt perfectly well, and requested him to spend the day with her, it being her birthday. “For, (said she) I am forty-eight this day.” “No, my lady, (answered the clergyman) you are mistaken, your mother and myself have had many disputes concerning your age, and I have at length discovered I am right; happening to go last week to the parish where you were born, I was resolved to put an end to my doubt by searching the register, and find that you are forty-seven this day.”

“You have signed my death warrant, (said she) I have not much longer to live. I must, therefore entreat you to leave me immediately, as I have something of importance to settle before I die.”

When the clergyman had left Lady B. she sent to forbid her company coming; and at the same time to request Lady ――, and her son, of whom Sir M. Beresford was father, and who then was about twelve years of age, to come to her apartment. Immediatly upon their arrival, having ordered her attendants to quit the room, “I have (said she) something to communicate to you both before I die, a period which is not far distant. You, lady are no stranger to the friendship that always existed between Lord Tyrone and myself; we were educated under the same roof, in the same principles, those of Deism. When the friends into whose hands we afterwards fell, endeavored to persuade us to embrace the revealed religion, their arguments, though insufficient to convince us, were powerful enough to stagger our former faith, and to leave us wavering between two opinions. In this perplexing state of doubt and uncertainty, we made a solemn promise to each other, that whichever should happen to die first, would, if permitted by the Almighty, appear to the other to declare what religion was acceptable to him. Accordingly one night, when Sir M. and myself were in bed, I awoke, and discovered Lord Tyrone sitting by my bedside; I screamed out, and endeavored, but in vain, to awake Sir M. ‘For heaven’s sake, Lord Tyrone, (said I) by what means, or for what purpose came you this time of night?’ ‘Have you forgot our promise? (said he) I died last Tuesday, at four o’clock, and have been permitted by the Supreme Being to appear to you, to assure you that the revealed religion is the true and only religion by which we can be saved. I am further suffered to inform you, that you are with child of a son, who is decreed to marry my daughter; not many years after his birth, Sir M. will die, and you will marry again, and to a man whose ill treatment you will be rendered miserable by; you will bring him two daughters, and afterwards a son, in child-bed of whom you will die, in the forty-seventh year of your age.’

“Just heaven, (exclaimed I) and cannot I prevent this?’ ‘Undoubtly you may, (returned he); you have a free assent, and may prevent all by resisting every temptation to a second marriage; but your passions are strong, you know not their power; hitherto you have had no trial, nor am I allowed to tell you, but if after this warning you persist in your infidelity, your lot in another world will be miserable indeed.’ ‘May I ask, (said I) if you are happy?’ ‘Had I been otherwise, (said he) I should not have been thus permitted to appear to you.’ ‘I may thence infer that you are happy?’ He smiled, but did not answer.

“But how, said I, when the morning comes, shall I be convinced that your appearance to me thus has been real, and not the mere phantom of my imagination.’ ‘Will not the news of my death, (said he) be sufficient to convince you?’ ‘No (returned I,) I might have had such a dream, and that dream might accidentally come to pass; I must have stronger proofs of its reality.’ ‘You shall,’ said he; then waving his hand, the bed curtains, which were of crimson velvet, were instantly drawn through a large iron hoop, by which the tester of the bed, which was of an oval form, was suspended: ‘In that (said he) you cannot be mistaken; no mortal could have performed this.’ ‘True, (said I) but sleeping we are often possessed of far greater strength than awake; though awake I could not have done it, asleep I might. I shall still doubt.’ He then said, ‘You have a pocket-book, on the leaves of which I will write: you know my handwriting.’ I replied ‘Yes.’ He wrote with a pencil on one side of the leaves. ‘Still, (said I) in the morning, I doubt, though awake I may not imitate your hand, asleep I might.’

‘You are born of belief, I must not touch you, it would injure you irreparably, it is not for spirits to touch mortal flesh.’ I do not mind a small blemish,’ said I. ‘You are a woman of spirit, (said he) hold out your hand.’ I did; he touched my wrist; his hand was as cold as marble; in a moment the sinews shrunk up, every nerve withered. ‘Now (said he) while you live, let no mortal eye behold that wrist, to see it will be sacrilege.’ He stopped; I turned to him again―he was gone. During the time in which I had conversed with him, my thoughts were perfectly calm and collected, but the moment he was gone I felt chilled with horror, and a cold sweat came over me; every limb and joint shook under me; I endeavored to awake Sir M. but in vain; all my efforts were ineffectual. In this state of agitation I lay some time, when a shower of tears came to my relief, and I droped asleep. In the morning Sir Marcus arose and dressed himself as usual, without perceiving the state in which the curtains remained. When I awoke, I found Sir Marcus was gone down. I arose, and having put on my clothes, went into the gallery adjoining our apartment, and took from thence a long broom, such a one as in a large house is frequently used to sweep the cornices, with the help of which, though not without difficulty, I took down the curtains, as I imagined their extraordinary position would excite wonder among the servants, and occasion inquiries I wished to avoid. I then went to my bureau, locked up the pocket-book and took out a piece of black ribbon which I bound round my wrist. When I came down, the agitation of my mind on my countenance, was too visible to pass long unobserved by Sir Marcus; he instantly remarked my confusion, and inquired the cause. I told him I was well, perfectly well, but informed him Lord Tyrone was no more, that he died on the preceding Tuesday at the hour of four, and at the same time entreated him to drop all inquiries concerning the black ribbon he noticed on my wrist. He kindly desisted any further importunity, nor did he ever after imagine the cause. You, my son, as had been foretold, I brought into the world with much rejoicing, and in little more than four years after your birth your father died in my arms. After the melancholy event, I determined, as the, only probable means by which to avoid the dreadful sequel of the prediction, to give up every pleasure, and to pass the remainder of my days in solitude. But few can endure to remain in a state of superstition. I commenced an intercourse with one family, and only one; nor could I then see the fatal consequences which afterwards resulted from it. Little did I imagine that their son, their only son, then a mere youth, would prove the person alloted by fate to prove my undoing. In a few years I ceased to regard him with indifference; I endeavored by every possible means to repel a passion, the fatal consequences of which, if ever I should be weak enough to yield to its impulse, I too well knew, and fondly imagined I should overcome its influence; when in the evening of one fatal day ended my fortitude, and plunged me in a moment down that abyss I had been so long meditating how to shun. He had frequently been soliciting his parents to go into the army, and at length obtained their permission, and came to bid me farewell before his departure.

The moment he entered the room he fell down on his knees at my feet and, told me he was miserable, that I alone was the cause of it. That instant my fortitude forsook me, I gave myself up for lost; and considering my fate as inevitable, without further hesitation consented to an union, the immediate result of which I knew to be misery, and its end death. The conduct of my husband, after a few years were passed, amply warranted my demand for a separation; I hoped by this means to avoid the fatal sequel to the prophecy; but, won over by his repeated entreaties, I was prevailed on to pardon and once more to reside with him, though not until I had, as I supposed, passed my forty-seventh year; but, I have heard this day from indisputable authority that I have hitherto laid under a mistake with regard to my age, that I am but forty-seven this day. Of the near approach of my death, I entertain not the least doubt, but I do not dread it; armed with the sacred precepts of Christianity, I can meet the King of Terrors without dismay; and, without a tear, bid adieu to the regions of mortality for ever.

“When I am dead, as the necessity of its concealment closes with my life, I wish that you, my lady, would unbind my wrist, take from hence the ribbon, and let my son with yourself behold it.” Lady B. here paused for some time, but resuming her conversation, she entreated her son to behave so as to merit the high honor he would in future receive from an union with lord Tyrone’s daughter. Lady B. then expressed a wish to lie down on a bed to compose herself asleep. Lady ――, and her son immediately called her attendants, and quitted the room, after having first desired them attentively to watch their mistress, and should they observe any change in her, to call instantly. An hour passed, and all was silent in the room, they listened at the door and every thing was still; but in half an hour more a bell rung violently, they flew to her apartment, but before they reached the door of it they heard the servants exclaim, “my mistress is dead.” Lady ――, then desiring the servants to quit the room. Lady B’s son with herself then approached the bed of his mother, they knelt down by the side of it. Lady ――, they lifted up her hand, unbound the black ribbon, and found the wrist exactly in the same state Lady B. had described, every nerve withered, every sinew shrunk up. Lady B’s son, as has been predicted, is now married to Lord Tyrone’s daughter; the black ribbon and pocket-book are now in the possession of Lady ――, by whom the above narrative is stated, in Ireland; who together with the Tyrone family, will be found to attest its truth.

THE “WHITE LADY.”

One of the most attractive, blood-curdling, hair-raising and goose-flesh causing legends in the whole history of superstition is that of the appearance of the “White Lady” as the precursor of death in the royal family of Prussia. In the first place the “White Lady” is duplex; there are two of her. One is the unhappy ghost of the Countess Agnes of Orlamunde, who is alleged to have departed this life after the procrastinating fashion peculiar to the middle ages, by being walled up alive in a vault in the palace at Berlin. The occasion for this incarceration is said to have been her poisoning of the two sons of the then Margrave of Brandenburgh (incidentally her own, by the way), who stood in the road to her promised marriage to the Margrave. The other personality of the “White Lady” was, while in the flesh, the Princess Bertha von Rosenberg, who lived in the fifteenth century died in the odor of sanctity, bequeathed a gift to the poor and this gift having been falsely discontinued, “walks” at periods inconvenient to the Hohenzollern family, to remind them of the impropriety of their course. Once in 1628, the “White Lady” made her appearance at the palace in Berlin and made the remark, in Latin, “I wait for judgment.” Pending the incident for which she waited, a Hohenzollern departed this life. Again, some hundred or so of years later, she was seen at the Castle of Neuhaus, in Bohemia, when she casually observed to the princess who encountered her, “It is ten o’clock.” This chronological information so affected the princess that she died in a few weeks. The latest appearance of La Dame Blanche was in 1879, again in the palace in Berlin; immediately there occured the death of Prince Wald[emar]. We are informed that this persistent and long-lived spectre was seen not long since by the night sentinels on guard at the royal castle at Berlin―and now Berlin society is all agog with a delicious fear and wonderment, waiting for grim Death to cry.―_Telegram._

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One of the most singular freaks of nature ever falling under our observation is the fungus growth in the possession of Mr. Simon Snyder, keeper of the hotel at Conville, Iowa. In May, 1882, Mr. Snyder lost a hand while working in a planing mill at Portsmouth, Ohio, and the amputated member was buried in his garden. Two weeks after there grew out of the mound covering the cairn a fungus plant of the exact form of the hand. It was visited by hundreds of people many of whom thought it was a portent of evil. On his removal to Conville, Mr. Snyder brought the fungus preserved in alcohol. They are of a dark brown color, and what is as remarkable as the growth itself, the fore-finger in its shortened length is a reproduction of the original which had been amputated two years before. It will pay visitors to Conville to see this wonderful duplication.

HOW DID IT GET THERE?―We saw on Tuesday afternoon a perfectly formed, apparently human hand, that of an infant, taken from the centre of a new-grown potato, in a field near town. The formation is so perfect that the smallest fibres and ligaments are quite apparent, and by touching the thumb or wrist the motion is felt throughout the whole hand.―_From the Cape Breton Advocate._

OF MEDICAL HERBS.

The old writers on Astrology and Magic give voluminous directions for gathering herbs and plants at certain periods during the waxing and waning of the Moon; but the more modern professors of the art, for the most part reject these formulas and rely rather upon the nature of the plants themselves, and upon the predominating stellar influences at the time their juices are expressed and prepared for use, for the efficacy of the various vegetable medicines used in Astrological Pharmacy.

An English Astrologer who published a work on Chiromancy in 1671, insists in his preface thereto, that any plant bearing a resemblance to a portion of the human frame, is a specific for the diseases of the member which it is assimilated to. He gives several illustrations of his opinion, a few of which, modernized from the quaint and somewhat coarse language of the book, are cited below.

How far facts will bear out the doctrine of affinities laid down by the author, the reader can ascertain by experiment.

Maiden Hair and the Moss of Quinces resemble the fibres of the head. Hence a decoction thereof is good for baldness.

Plants resembling the figure of the heart are comforting thereto. Therefore the Citron-apple, Fuller’s Thistle, Spikenard, Balm, Mint, White-beet, parsley, and Motherwort, which bear in leaves and roots a heart-like form are congenial to that organ.

Herbs that simulate the shape of the lungs, as Sage, Lungwort, Hounds-tongue and Camphrey, are good for pulmonary complaints,

Vegetable productions like in figure to the ears, as the leaves of Folefoot or wild Spikenard rightly prepared as a conserve and eaten, improve the hearing and memory. Oil extracted from the shells of sea-snails, which have the turnings and curvature of the ears, also tends wonderfully to the cure of deafness.

When plants resemble the nose in their configuration, as the leaves of the Wild Water Mint; they are beneficial in restoring the sense of smell.

Certain plants having a semblance of the womb―as Birthwort or Heartwort, Ladies’ Seal or Briony, etc., conduce much to a safe accouchement.

Shrubs and Herbs like unto the bladder and gall are excellent for those parts; as Night-shade, Alkakenge and Nux Visicaria. These relieve the gravel and stone.

Herbs formed like the milt, as Miltwort, Spleenwort, and Lupins, are recommended for the strengtheing of that part of the human viscera.

Plants that are liver-shaped, as the herb Trinity, Liverwort, Agarick, Fermitory and Figs, are efficacious in bilious diseases.

Walnuts, Indian Nuts, Leeks and the root of Ragwort, because of their form, are said when duly prepared to further generation and prevent sterility.

Herbs and Seeds, in shape like the teeth, as Toothwort, Pine Kernel, etc., preserve the dental organization.

Plants of knobbed form, like the knuckles or joints, as Galingale and the Knotty Odoriferous rush (Calamus,) are good for spinal complaints, renal diseases, foot gout, knee swellings, and all joint pains whatsoever.

Oily vegetable products, as the Filbert, Walnut, Almond, etc., tend to fatness of body. Plants naturally lean emaciate those who take them; as Sarsaparilla or long-leaved Rosa Solie.

Fleshy plants make flesh for the eaters; for instance the Onion, Leek and Colewort. Certain plants fortify and brace the nerves; for example, the Sensitive plant, Nettles, the roots of Mallorus, the herb Neuras, etc. The same are to be used as outward applications.

Herbs milky in their substance propagate milk; as Lettuce and the fruit of the Almond and Fig trees.

Plants of a serous nature purge the noxious humors between the flesh and the skin, as Spurge and Scamony.

Herbs whose acidity turns milk to curd, are said to lead to procreation. Such are Gallium, and the seeds of Spurge.

Those semples that obstruct the coagulation of milk, as Rue mixed with Cummin, will relieve a sore breast when the milk is knotted in it, if applied thereto.

Plants that are hollow, as the stalks of Grain, Reeds, Leeks, Garlick, etc., are good to purge, open and soothe the hollow parts of the body.

The following from “Hermeppus Redivivus,” a work now out of print, prescribes the method of preparing the famous ELIXIR OF LIFE. This supposed specific for the renewal and perpetuation of youth and beauty, was sought for during the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries with as much avidity as the philosopher’s stone, which the alchemists believed would, like the touch of Midas, change all meaner substances into the regal metal―GOLD.

THE FAMOUS ELIXIR OF LIFE.

PREPARED FROM BALM.

“In the proper season of the year, when the herb is at its full growth, and, consequently, its juices in their whole vigor, gather at the fittest time of the day a sufficient quantity of balm, wipe it clean, and pick it; then put it in a stone mortar, and, by laborious beating, reduce it into a thin pap.

“Take this glutinous and odoriferous substance and put it into a bolt-head, which is to be hermetically sealed, and then place it in a dunghill, or some gentle heat equivalent thereto, where it must digest for forty days.

“When it is taken out, the matter will appear clearer than ever, and have a quicker scent. Then separate the grosser parts, which, however, are, not to be thrown away. Put this liquid into a gentle bath, that the remaining gross particles may perfectly subside. In the meantime, dry calcine, and extract the fixed salt of the grosser parts, separated as before mentioned, which fixed salt is to be joined to the liquor when filtrated.

“Next take sea salt, well purified, melt it, and, by setting it in a cold place, it will run, and become clear and limpid. Take equal parts of both liquors, mix thoroughly, and having hermetically sealed them in a proper glass, let them be carefully exposed to the sun, in the warmest season of the year, for about six weeks. At the end of this space, the prim muens of the balm will appear swimming on the top like a bright green oil, which is to be carefully separated and preserved. Of this oil, a few drops taken in a glass of wine for several days together, will bring to pass those wonders that are reported of the Countess of Desmond and others; for it will entirely change the juices of the human body, reviving the decaying frame of life, and restoring the spirits of long lost youth.”

The author who records this curious and wonderful discovery, remarks, “If after the medicine is thus prepared, any doubt be had of its efficacy, or of its manner of operation, let a few drops be given every day on raw meat to any old dog or cat, and in less than a fortnight, by the changing of their coats and other incontestable changes, the virtue of this preparation will sufficiently appear.”

This is the preparation of balm which Mr. Boyle (the celebrated chemist) mentions in his works; and in which he tells us that “Dr. Le Fevre” gave him an account of it, “in the presence of a famous physician, and another virtuoso, to whom he applied, as knowing the truth of what he said, that an intimate friend of his, whom,” says Mr. Boyle, “he named to me, having prepared the primums ens of balm, to satisfy himself the better of its effects, made a trial upon himself, and took of it according to the prescription, for above a fortnight; long before which, his nails, both of his hands and feet, began to loosen themselves from the skin, (but without pain,) which, at length, falling off of their own accord, this gentleman keeps yet by him in a box for a rarity; but would not pursue the trial any farther, being satisfied with what he had found, and being in no need of such physic; but having given of the same medicated wine, for ten or twelve days, to a woman that served in his house, and who was near seventy years of age, without letting her know what he expected, the peculiar signs of youth in females became so apparent that she was alarmed, and he did not prosecute the experiment any farther. And when I asked,” says Mr. Boyle, “why he made no trial on beasts, it was answered, that though he had but little of the medicine, yet he put apart an old hen, and moistening her food with some drops of it for a week, about the sixth day she began to moult her feathers by degrees till she became naked; but before a fortnight was passed, she began to regain others, which, when they were come to their full growth, appeared fair and better colored than at first.”

And he added, “that besides that her crest was raised she also laid more eggs than she was wont to do before.”

In our childhood, our mothers’ maids have so terrified us with an ugly devil having horns on his head, fire in his mouth, and a tail at his breech; eyes like a basin, fangs like a dog, claws like a bear, a skin like a negro, and a voice roaring like a lion, whereby we start and are afraid when we hear one cry Boh! and they have so frayed us with bull-beggars, spirits, witches, unchins, elves, hags, faries, satyrs, pans, fauhes, sylvans, kitt-with-the-candlestick, tritrons, centaurs, dwarfs, giants, imps, calcars, conjureres, nymphs, changelings, incubus, Robin Goodfellow, the spoorn, the man-in-the-oak, the hellwain, the firedrake, the puckle, Tom Thum, Hobgoblin, Tom Tumbler, Boneless, and such other bugbears, that we are afrad of our own shadows, insomuch that some never fear the devil but on a dark night; and then a polled sheep is a perilous beast, and many times is taken for our father’s soul, especially in a churchyard, where a right hardy man hitherto durst not to have passed by night but his hair would stand upright.

It is asserted by several authorities that no less than three thousand persons were executed for Witchcraft during that dark period of heretical pravity, the Great Rebellion. Now, as “Rebellion,” according to the express assurance of the Prophet Samuel (1 Sam. xv. 23) “is as the sin of Witchcraft,” no hearty believer in God’s revelation can be at all surprised to find that both Witchcraft and Rebellion in an atmosphere of heresy flourished together, under that odious tyrant and hypocritical fanatic, Oliver Cromwell: when the altar was thrown down and both King and Archbishop were murdered.

In 1488, the country four leagues around Constance was laid waste by lightning and tempest; and two women being, by fair means or foul, made to confess themselves guilty as the cause of the devastation, suffered death.

About 1515, five hundred persons were executed at Geneva, under the character of “Protestant witches;” from which we may suppose many suffered for heresy. Forty-eight witches were burnt at Ravensburgh within four years, as Hutchison reports, on the authority of Mengho, the author of the Malleus Maleficarum. In Lorraine, the learned inquisitor, Remigius, boasts that he put to death nine hundred people in fifteen years. As many were banished from that country; so that whole towns were on the point of becoming desolate. In 1524, a thousand persons were put to death in one year at Coma, in Italy, and about one hundred every year for several years.

In the beginning of the next century, the persecution of witches broke out in France with a fury which was hardly conceivable, and multitudes were burnt amid that gay and lively people.

The dream of the so-called “Swaffham Tinker” is singular, and may well be here reproduced, because it represents an example of the practical results of dreaming, which is quite worthy of consideration:―

“This Tinker, a hard-working, industrious man, one night dreamed that if he took a journey to London, and placed himself at a certain spot on London Bridge, he should meet one who would tell him something of great importance to his future prospects. The Tinker, on whom the dream made a deep impression, related it fully to his wife in the morning; who, however, half-laughed at him and half-scolded him for his folly in heeding such idle fancies. Next night he is said to have re-dreamed the dream; and again on the third night, when the impression was so powerful on his mind that he determined, in spite of the remonstrances of his wife and the ridicule of his neighbors, to go to London and see the upshot of it. Accordingly he set off for the metropolis on foot, reached it late on the third day (the distance was ninety miles), and after the refreshment of a night’s rest, took his station next day on a part of the Bridge answering to the description in his dream. There he stood all day, and all the next, and all the third, without any communication as to the purpose of his journey; so that towards night, on the third day he began to lose patience and confidence in his dream, inwardly cursed his folly in disregarding his wife’s counsel, and resolved next day to make the best of his way home. He still kept his station, till late in the evening, when just as he was about to depart, a stranger who had noticed him standing steadfastly and with anxious look on the same spot for some days, accosted him, and asked him what he waited there for. After a little hesitation, the Tinker told him his errand, though without acquainting him with the name of the place whence he came. The stranger enjoyed a smile at the rustic’s simplicity, and advised him to go home and for the future pay no attention to dreams. ‘I myself,’ said he, ‘if I were disposed to put faith in such things, might now go a hundred miles into the country upon a similar errand. I dreamed three nights this week that if I went to a place called Swaffham in Norfolk, and dug under an apple tree in a certain garden on the north side of the town I should find a box of money; but I have something else to do than run after such idle fancies! No, no, my friend; go home, and work well at your calling, and you will find there the riches you are seeking here.’ The astonished Tinker did not doubt that this was the communication he had been sent to London to receive, but he merely thanked the stranger for his advice, and went away avowing his intention to follow it up. Next day he set for home, and on his arrival there said little to his wife touching his journey; but next morning he rose betimes and began to dig on the spot he supposed to be pointed out by the stranger. When he had got a few feet down, the spade struck upon something hard, which turned out to be an iron chest. This he quickly carried to his house, and when he had with difficuly wrenched open the lid, found it, to his great joy, to be full of money. After securing his treasure, he observed on the lid of the box an inscription, which, unlearned as he was, he could not decipher. But by a stratagem he got the incription read without any suspicion on the part of his neighbors by some of the Grammar School lads, and found it to be―

‘Where this stood
Is another twice as good.’

And in truth on digging again the lucky Tinker disinterred, below the place where the first chest had lain, a second twice as large, also full of gold and silver coin. It is stated that, become thus a wealthy man, the Tinker showed his thankfulness to Providence by building a new chancel to the church, the old one being out of repair. And whatever fiction the marvellous taste of those ages may have mixed up with the tale, certain it is that there is shown to this day a monument in Swaffham Church, having an effigy in marble, said to be that of the Tinker with his Dog at his side and his tools and implements of trade lying about him.”

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Among the various histories of singular dreams and corresponding events, the following, which occurred in the early part of the eighteenth century, seems to merit being here placed on record. Its authenticity will appear from the relation; and it may surely be maintained that a more extraordinary concurrence of fortuitous and accidental circumstances can scarcely be produced or paralleld:―

Cassius of Parma, who had espoused the cause of Marc Anthony, fled to Athens after the battle of Actium. While sleeping in his apartments there, he saw a man enter his chamber, an individual with dark complexion and dishevelled hair, very tall and stout. Cassius demanded who he was; to which the phantom replied, “I am your evil genius.” The dreamer arose in a fright, and seeing no one present, summoned his slaves, inquiring if any among them had seen a stranger enter the appartment. An examination showed the doors of the house to have been firmly closed, so that it was impossible for any one to enter. Cassius persuaded that he had been the victim of some chemical illusion, again went to sleep, but the same vision presented itself a second time, addressing him with the same words. Cassius, troubled, arose from his couch and summoned lights. At early day-break he was assassinated by order of the Emperor Augustus.

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Two Arcedian friends, journeying together, arrived at Megara, at which place the one took lodgings at the house of a friend, while his companion put up at a public tavern. The traveler lodging at his friend’s, was visited in a dream by his comrade, who supplicated him to come and extricate him from a trap set for him by the innkeeper. He awoke suddenly, arose, dressed and hastened himself towards the tavern, when an afterthought impelled him to return, and he again undressed and went to sleep. Again his comrade presented himself, but this time covered with blood, and beseeching him to avenge his murder. The phantom informed his fellow traveler that he had been treacherously assassinated by the tavern keeper, and his body concealed beneath a dunghill outside the city gates. Terrified at this second appiration, the Arcadian hesitated no longer, but going to the place designated, he discovered his friend’s corpse, and was therefore enabled to bring the murderer to justice.

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A tradesman of Paris, sleeping in bed with his wife, dreamed that he heard the voice exclaiming to him: “I have now finished forty years, seven months, and twenty-nine days of labor, and I am happy.” The wife, sleeping by her husband’s side, had the same dream and upon awakening in the morning went forth, and without mentioning the occurrence, procured a lottery-ticket bearing the numbers 40-7-29. The same day the numbers came out, and the tradesman lamented his indiscretion in not taking the advice of his nocturnal visitor. His sorrow was turned into joy when he learned that his wife, profiting by her dream, had drawn the grand prize in the Royal Lottery.

* * * * *

An old lady of Paris was in the habit of encouraging her niece by promises of wealth, which she never fulfilled; extenuating her procrastination from year to year, by recourse of ingenious expedients, and she finally died. Shortly afer her decease, the aunt appeared during the night-time and instructed her niece to remove the centre tile of their hearth, where she would discover the oft promised treasure. The young girl obeyed the injunction, but discovered in the cavity nothing save a heap of cinders. In vexation of spirit, the niece railled vehemently against the duplicity of a relative deceiving her after death. On the following night, however, the phantom again appeared, and without saying a word, designated four numbers apparently on the wall. Although placing little reliance upon the injunction which she conceived to relate to a lottery (then the town talk), the niece resolved to try her luck, especially as the ticket offered for her purchase by the dealer bore the same numbers designated by the apparition. Subsequently, these numbers came out in the order indicated, and the girl came into possession of four hundred thousand francs.

FOLK-LORE OF PINS.

POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS.―Why, however, north country people are so persistent in their refusal to give one another a pin it is not easy to discover, as even they themselves cannot give the origin and reason of this superstition. When asked for a pin they invariably say, “You may take one, but mind, I do not give it.” It may, perhaps, have some connection with the vulgar prejudice against giving a knife or other sharp instrument, as mentioned by Gay in his “Shepherd’s Week.”

But woe is me! such presents luckless prove,
For knives, they tell me, always sever love.

―a supposition as popular now as in days gone by. Another fact associated with pins will doubtless interest those of the fair sex about to enter on the happy state of matrimony. Thus it is still a prevalent belief in certain places that a bride in removing her bridal robe and chaplet at the completion of the marriage ceremonies, must take special care to throw away every pin worn on this eventful day. Woe to the bride who keeps even one pin used in the marriage toilet. Woe also to the bridesmaids if they retain any of them, as their chances of marriage will thereby be materially lessened, and anyhow they must give up all hope of being wedded before the following Whitsuntide. On the other hand, in Sussex on her return home from church is often robbed of all the pins about her dress by her single friends present, from the belief that whoever possesses one of them will be married in the course of a year. Much excitement and amusement are occasionally caused by the youthful competitors for this supposed charm, and the bride herself is not unfrequently the victim of rather rough treatment.

A poor peasant dwelling in the vicinity of Rheims, in Champagne, saw, one night, during his slumbers, a young man, who taking him by the hand, conducted him to the base of an old wall, where, after designating a huge stone recommended him to raise it up on the morrow, he suddenly vanished. The peasant followed his advice, and found the stone indicated in his dream, which upon being displaced, revealing a vase filled with golden coins―enriching the dreamer and his family.

SEEING WITH THE EYES CLOSED.

The following account of a remarkable case of somnambulism contributed to the American Journal of Medical Science by Dr. Belden, an able practitioner, who attended the lady afflicted with these somnambulic paroxysms:

* * * “After several attempts to keep her in bed, it was determined to suffer her to take her own course. Released from restraint, she dressed herself, went down stairs and proceeded to make preparations for breakfast. She set the table, arranged the various articles with the utmost precision, went into a dark room to a closet at the most remote corner of it, from which she took the coffee cups, placed them on a tray, turned it sideways to pass through the door, avoided all intervening obstacles, and deposited the whole safely on the table. She then went into the pantry, the blinds of which were shut and the doors closed after her. She then skimmed the milk, poured the cream into one cup and the milk into another without spilling a drop. She then cut the bread, placed it regularly on the plate, and divided the slices in the middle. In fine, she went through the whole operation of preparing breakfast with as much precision as she could in open day, and this with her eyes closed, and without any light except that of one lamp which was standing in the room to enable the family to observe her operations. She finally returned voluntarily to bed, and on finding the table arranged for breakfast when she made her appearance in the morning inquired why she had been suffered to sleep while another performed her duty. None of the transactions of the preceding night had left the slightest impression on her mind. In one instance she not only arranged the table for a meal, but actually prepared a dinner with her eyes closed.”

PREVOYANT VISION OF JOHN KNOX.

John Knox, the great Scottish Reformer, when upon his death bed, experienced a most remarkable presentiment as to the fate of his friend Kirkaldy of Grange, who, during the civil war of that period, was holding the Castle of Edinburgh in the cause of Mary Queen of Scots and of the Anti-Protestant party. The particulars are in this wise related by Calderwood, the historian, whose testimony is unimpeachable:

“John Knox, being on his death bed, sent for his colleague and successor, Mr. Lawson, Mr. Lindsay, Minister of Leith, and the elders and deacons of Edinburgh, all of whom he addressed in a farewell speech.

“They were departing, when Knox called back Lindsay and Lawson, and desired to speak with them in private. ‘Weel, brother,’ said he addressing Lindsay, ‘I have desired all this day to have had you, that I may send you to yon man in the Castle, whom you know I have loved so dearly. Go, I pray you, to him, and tell him I have sent you to him yet once to warn him and bid him in the name of God, leave the evil cause and give over the Castle. If not, he shall be brought down over the walls of it with shame, and hang against the sun. So hath God assured me.’ Lindsay went to the Castle accordingly and delivered Knox’s message; but Kirkaldy, after conferring with Secretary Letington, said, ‘Go, tell Mr. Knox he is but a drything prophet.’ Mr. Lindsay returned to Mr. Knox and reported how he had discharged his commission. ‘Well!’ said Knox, ‘I have been earnest with my God anent these two men. For the one, I am sorry so shall befall him; yet, God assureth me that there is mercy for his soul. For the other I have no warrant that it shall be well with him.’

“Kirkaldy maintained the Castle for some months after Knox’s death, but was at last forced to surrender, whereupon he was condemed to death as a traitor and hanged at Edinburgh on the 3d of August, 1572, at four o’clock in the afternoon, the sun being west.”

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The Prince of Navarre, afterwards King Henry the IV., of France, while playing at dice with a company at the court of Charles IX., on the eve of St. Bartholomew, observed several drops of blood to fall upon the cloth, which spread consternation among the players.

* * * * *

On the day upon which Gen. Arnold died in Nova Scotia, the tree under which Major Andre was captured, near Tarrytown, fell, although there was no storm.

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On the eve of the assassination of Julius Cæsar, the temple of Jupiter Stabor trembled to its foundation, and an enormous piece of rock fell from the height of the capitol, and carried with it a Roman standard bearer, who was on guard, at the opening of the road.

THE DIVINING ROD.

FACTS VERSUS THE DICTUM OF SCIENCE―WHAT A TENNESSEAN CAN DO.

A New York Paper publishes the following item of Interest:

I have seen several articles in regard to the divining rod. I know that science does not recognize such a thing, but were not all the sciences tested and proved by practical experiment before they were recognized by the scientific world? There is a man in this country who believes as strongly in the divining rod as the navigator does in the mariner’s compass. He is not an illiterate, superstitious man, but is as well informed on all subjects as any laboring man you ever met. He does not claim that he is enabled to locate a stream of water or a vein of mineral beneath the surface of the earth by any virtue contained in the rod, nor is it by the art of hocus pocus, but it is in and through the influence of electricity, with which his system is abundantly charged.

You will say: “If this be true why does he not go to some mining country and make himself and others rich by locating mineral veins?” He is a man that has had to labor very hard all his life. Now he is old and infirm, and unable to travel. This discovery with him dates only a few years back. His field for practice and experiment is limited consequently he gains knowledge on the subject slowly.