The words “Twice will be sufficient.” probably embodied the thought, uttered or not, of the maniac, under the influence of his emotion—two blows or two stabs would be sufficient for his purpose.
Dr. Kerner relates a case of a Dr. John B——, who was studying medicine in Paris, seeing his mother one night, shortly after he had got into bed, and before he had put out his light. She was dressed after a fashion in which he had never seen her; but she vanished,—and thus, aware of the nature of the appearance, he became much alarmed, and wrote home to inquire after her health. The answer he received was that she was extremely unwell, having been under the most intense anxiety on his account, from hearing that several medical students in Paris had been arrested as resurrectionists; and, knowing his passion for anatomical investigations, she had apprehended he might be among the number. The letter concluded with an earnest request that he would pay her a visit. He did so; and his surprise was so great on meeting her, to perceive that she was dressed exactly as he had seen her in his room at Paris, that he could not at first embrace her, and was obliged to explain the cause of his astonishment and repugnance.
An analogous case to these is that of Dr. Donne,—which is already mentioned in so many publications, that I should not allude to it here but for the purpose of showing that these examples belong to a class of facts, and that it is not to be supposed that similarity argues identity, or that one and the same story is reproduced with new names and localities. I mention this because, when circumstances of this kind are related, I sometimes hear people say, “Oh, I have heard that story before, but it was said to have happened to Mr. So-and-so, or at such a place;” the truth being, that these things happen in all places and to a great variety of people.
Dr. Donne was with the embassy in Paris, where he had been but a short time, when his friend Mr. Roberts, entering the salon, found him in a state of considerable agitation. As soon as he was sufficiently recovered to speak, he said that his wife had passed twice through the room with a dead child in her arms. An express was immediately despatched to England to inquire for the lady, and the intelligence returned was that, after much suffering, she had been delivered of a dead infant. The delivery had taken place at the time that her husband had seen her in Paris. Nobody has ever disputed Dr. Donne’s assertion that he saw his wife: but, as usual, the case is crammed into the theory of spectral illusions. They say Dr. Donne was naturally very anxious about his wife’s approaching confinement, of which he must have been aware, and that his excited imagination did all the rest. In the first place, I do not find it recorded that he was suffering any particular anxiety on the subject; and, even if he were, the coincidences in time and in the circumstance of the dead child remain unexplained. Neither are we led to believe that the doctor was unwell, or living the kind of life that is apt to breed thick-coming fancies. He was attached to the embassy in the gay city of Paris; he had just been taking luncheon with others of the suite, and had been left alone but a short time, when he was found in the state of amazement above described. If such extraordinary cases of spectral illusion as this, and many others I am recording, can suddenly arise in constitutions apparently healthy, it is certainly high time that the medical world reconsider the subject, and give us some more comprehensible theory of it; if they are not cases of spectral illusion, but are to be explained under that vague and abused term imagination, let us be told something more about imagination—a service which those who consider the word sufficient to account for these strange phenomena, must of course be qualified to perform. If, however, both these hypotheses—for they are but simple hypotheses, unsupported by any proof whatever, only, being delivered with an air of authority in a rationalistic age, they have been allowed to pass unquestioned—if, however, they are not found sufficient to satisfy a vast number of minds, which I know to be the case, I think the inquiry I am instituting can not be wholly useless or unacceptable, let it lead us where it may. The truth is all I seek; and I think there is a very important truth to be deduced from the further investigation of this subject in its various relations—in short, a truth of paramount importance to all others; one which contains evidence of a fact in which we are more deeply concerned than in any other, and which, if well established, brings demonstration to confirm intuition and tradition. I am very well aware of all the difficulties in the way—difficulties internal and external,—many inherent to the subject itself, and others extraneous but inseparable from it; and I am very far from supposing that my book is to settle the question even with a single mind. All I hope or expect is to show that the question is not disposed of yet, either by the rationalists or the physiologists, and that it is still an open one; and all I desire is to arouse inquiry and curiosity, and that thus some mind, better qualified than mine to follow out the investigation, may be incited to undertake it.
Dr. Kerner mentions the case of a lady named Dillenius, who was awakened one night by her son, a child six years of age; her sister-in-law, who slept in the same room, also awoke at the same time, and all three saw Madame Dillenius enter the room, attired in a black dress, which she had lately bought. The sister said, “I see you double! you are in bed, and yet you are walking about the room.” They were both extremely alarmed, while the figure stood between the doors in a melancholy attitude with the head leaning on the hand. The child—who also saw it, but seems not to have been terrified—jumped out of bed, and running to the figure, put his hand through it as he attempted to push it, exclaiming, “Go away, you black woman.” The form, however, remained as before; and the child, becoming alarmed, sprung into bed again. Madame Dillenius expected that the appearance foreboded her own death; but that did not ensue. A serious accident immediately afterward occurred to her husband, and she fancied there might be some connection between the two events.
This is one of those cases which, from their extremely perplexing nature, have induced some psychologists to seek an explanation in the hypothesis that other spirits may for some purpose, or under certain conditions, assume the form of a person with a view to giving an intimation or impression, which the gulf separating the material from the spiritual world renders it difficult to convey. As regards such instances as that of Madame Dillenius, however, we are at a loss to discover any motive—unless, indeed, it be sympathy—for such an exertion of power, supposing it to be possessed. But in the famous case of Catherine of Russia, who is said, while lying in bed, to have been seen by the ladies to enter the throne-room, and, being informed of the circumstance, went herself and saw the figure seated on the throne, and bade her guards fire on it, we may conceive it possible that her guardian-spirit, if such she had, might adopt this mode of warning her to prepare for a change, which, after such a life as hers, we are entitled to conclude she was not very fit to encounter.
There are numerous examples of similar phenomena to be met with. Professor Stilling relates that he heard from the son of a Madame M——, that his mother, having sent her maid up stairs on an errand, the woman came running down in a great fright, saying that her mistress was sitting above, in her arm-chair, looking precisely as she had left her below. The lady went up stairs, and saw herself as described by the woman, very shortly after which she died.
Dr. Werner relates that a jeweller at Ludwigsburg, named Ratzel, when in perfect health, one evening, on turning the corner of a street, met his own form, face to face. The figure seemed as real and lifelike as himself; and he was so close as to look into its very eyes. He was seized with terror, and it vanished. He related the circumstance to several people, and endeavored to laugh, but, nevertheless, it was evident he was painfully impressed with it. Shortly afterward, as he was passing through a forest, he fell in with some wood-cutters, who asked him to lend a hand to the ropes with which they were pulling down an oak-tree. He did so, and was killed by its fall.
Becker, professor of mathematics at Rostock, having fallen into argument with some friends regarding a disputed point of theology, on going to his library to fetch a book which he wished to refer to, saw himself sitting at the table in the seat he usually occupied. He approached the figure, which appeared to be reading, and, looking over its shoulder, he observed that the book open before it was a bible, and that, with one of the fingers of the right hand, it pointed to the passage—“Make ready thy house, for thou must die!” He returned to the company, and related what he had seen, and, in spite of all their arguments to the contrary, remained fully persuaded that his death was at hand. He took leave of his friends, and expired on the following day, at six o’clock in the evening. He had already attained a considerable age.
Those who would not believe in the appearance, said he had died of the fright; but, whether he did so or not, the circumstance is sufficiently remarkable: and, if this were a real, outstanding apparition, it would go strongly to support the hypothesis alluded to above, while, if it were a spectral illusion, it is certainly an infinitely strange one.