“He put his hand on the clothes over her breast, and said he felt a living thing.” Perhaps he did. In our day we hear of such presentations as semblances of small living animals around mediums; but personally, have not seen or felt such.
“Soon after they” (the ministers) “were gone, the afflicted desired the women to be gone, saying that the company of the men was not offensive to her.” There is not general popular knowledge, that the magnetisms of all animals are as distinctly male in one sex and female in the other, as are any of their organs, nor that to very sensitive persons there come times and states when their own magnetisms hunger for food from magnetisms of opposite genders. Some sensitives feel the action of finer laws and forces than men detect in their normal condition.
“She learned that there were reports about town that she was not afflicted. And some came to her as spies; but during the said time” (of their visit) “she had no fit.” Few anti-spiritualistic asseverations are more frequently put forth than this; that manifestations rarely occur in the presence of certain persons deemed specially competent to detect fraud and imposture, and who visit mediums for the purpose of exposing them. Unbelief was once a bar to manifestation of many marvels by Jesus of Nazareth. Also it much obstructs their presentation to-day; and probably, therefore, might have done so when emanating from spies and would-be exposers around Margaret Rule. But “they can’t,” is perhaps often said of spirits when “they won’t,” would more accurately describe the fact. As at the Albion in 1857, they would manifest before press reporters, but not before Harvard professors. They know the thoughts of each observer, and are often pleased to bite the biter; the playfully roguish sometimes find it fun to catch rogues. “She had no fit” when spies were present.
“The attendants,” September 19, “said that Mr. M. would not go to prayer with her when people were in the room, as they” (he and his father) “did that night he felt the live creature.” Peter of old knew what was conducive to effectual prayer when, at the side of Dorcas, then entranced to seeming death, he “put the bystanders all forth and kneeled down and prayed.” Mather no doubt had acquired similar knowledge; world-wide experience and observation teach that quiet and harmony are needful to the utterance of satisfactory or very helpful prayer.
“Margaret Perd and another said they smelt brimstone. I and others,” said Calef’s informant, “said we did not smell any.” The wording leaves it doubtful, perhaps, whether the reporter and his “others,” though smelling brimstone, quizzically said they did not, or whether they actually failed to smell it. If they did not smell the article, their natural, frank statement would have been, we did not. But the wording is, “we said” we did not. Our quotation was not made, however, for the purpose of making such criticism, but as a text to the following paragraph.
Spirits sometimes have power to produce in the olfactory nerves of many persons, precisely the sensations which many familiar odors produce. We have personally been refreshed on several occasions by perception of the fragrance of pinks, while we were reclining drowsily on a couch in our own study, no visible person present with us, and no pinks in the vicinity, or in our thoughts. This has occurred quite as often in dead of winter, as when the garden was odorous with flowers. Probably such presentations may be made to some members of a company, while others in the crowd will be insensible to them. One’s non-perception of spirit-born odor, whether coming from above or below, whether pleasurable or offensive, does not argue that mere fancy alone acts upon a neighbor who says he smells such.
On the evening of the 13th some one present, seemingly unacquainted with her habits, put either to a particular person or to the whole company, this question. “What does she eat or drink?” And, from some unnamed source, came this response: “She does not eat at all, but drinks rum.” Neither the question nor the answer is ascribed to Mather, nor to any one in particular.
We are surprised that S. P. Fowler, the intelligent, just, and charitable editor of Salem Witchcraft, said in a foot note, page 57, that “the affliction of Margaret Rule ... was nothing more than a bad case of delirium tremens;” statements indicative of her good morals and habits previous to her affliction were right before his editorial eyes on pages just preceding his note, and nothing is found to her disparagement excepting that annunciation by some unknown body that she drinks rum. Statements in her favor, and absence of any against her in the original records, convince us that Fowler’s conclusion was rash and not well founded. Mather says that “she was born of sober and honest parents;” also that it “is affirmed that for about half a year before her visitation she was observably improved in the hopeful symptoms of a new creature: she was become seriously concerned for the everlasting salvation of her soul, and careful to avoid the snares of evil company.” Habits of that kind, during six preceding months, were not probable antecedents to delirium tremens; Calef’s temptations to have charged bad character for temperance, had there been facts to sustain him, were probably very strong; but we have found no evidence that he did so. An informant of his, when reporting conversation which took place around her, furnished the question and response, viz.: “What does she eat or drink? Answer. She does not eat at all, but drinks rum.” A fact stated by Mather himself naturally might tempt any wag, inclined to create mirth, to say playfully, “She eats nothing, but drinks rum.” He, Mather, informs us that “once, twice, or so” her “controllers, for her annoyance or distress,” allowed her to take a spoonful of rum. What more common than for attendants to offer and urge upon a suffering and agonized person any stimulant or cordial at hand? Nothing. We will allow that Margaret did take “once, twice, or so” a spoonful of rum; but nothing else that we meet with in the account of her, gives the shadow of foundation for the charge of delirium tremens. If the charge is true, delirium tremens in that case worked wonders which it is not accustomed to perform; to tell correctly, when lying on a bed on shore at night, that danger of drowning was then about coming upon a particular young man away down the harbor, was an extraordinary operation for that disease to perform; and still more extraordinary was it, that such disease lifted the body on which it was feeding, up in horizontal position to the ceiling overhead, held it there for minutes, and so firmly that it took several men to pull it down. Do such feats bespeak their origin in delirium tremens? No. Calling it a case of delirium tremens does nothing toward giving rational explanation of the marvels attendant upon Margaret. Rum is the name of a very unsafe guide, and the name, not the thing, deluded the annotator to inferences useless, entirely useless, as helps to explain such phenomena as he was engaged in elucidating.
Any weakness, sin, or crime which was not charged upon Margaret Rule by her cotemporaries, it is uncharitable to allege unqualifiedly against her now, on the sole basis that in her hours of suffering she drank a few spoonfuls of rum; and is especially inapropos, when, as is the case here, the charge gives no help toward accomplishing the very purpose for which alone it should have been made, namely, as an elucidation of the cause of such things as how she sensed the danger threatening the absent man, and how or by whom she was lifted up and sustained.
We shall quote no further from the statements of the two parties, Mather and Calef, made prior to their coming into distinct conflict. Enough has been presented to show that Mather stated several facts which, to the mass of men, must seem astounding—such facts as bespeak performances beyond what embodied men could enact. The wondrous facts, such as her prophecy of danger about to wait upon the impressed sailor—her long fast without pining—her being lifted by invisible force to the ceiling above her, &c., constitute the important parts of Mather’s narrative of what he personally witnessed and knew. On the other side, Calef, adopting the account of unnamed witnesses, omits any allusion to the important facts in the case, and presents, in the main, different, and relatively, if not absolutely, trifling accompaniments. Calef was complained of by Mather for omissions. To this Calef replied, “My intelligence not giving me any further, I could not insert that I knew not.” The doings of the Mathers, and especially of Cotton, much more than the manifestations through and upon Margaret, were detailed to Calef, and caused him to put forth a very meager and one-sided manuscript account of this case. The clergyman at once perceived and felt this, and soon sent his opponent the following affidavits:—