“Tu ne quæsieris, scire nefas, quem mihi, quem tibi
Finem Dì dederint, Leuconoë, neu Babylonios
Tentàris numeros. Ut melius, quidquid erit pati!
Seu plures hyemes, seu tribuit Jupiter ultimam,
Quæ nunc oppositis debilitat pumicibus mare
Tyrrhenum”——
The version of Francis, however imperfect, may not be unwelcome to the English reader:—
“Strive not, Leuconoe, to pry
Into the secret will of fate;
Nor impious magic vainly try
To know our live’s uncertain date.
Whether th’ indulgent Power divine
Hath many seasons yet in store,
Or this the latest winter thine,
Which breaks its waves against the shore.”
This passage from Horace is not required, to establish the fact, that magical arts were practised, among the Babylonians. A certain measure of superstition seems to belong to the nature of man; and to grow greater or less, in proportion to the exercise, or neglect, of his reasoning faculties. From this general rule history has furnished us with eminent exceptions. Cunning, and cupidity, and credulity are destined to be ever present: it is therefore to be expected, that, from age to age, the most egregious absurdities will pass, upon a portion of the community, for sober truths.
The fact, that popular absurdities have won the patient, if not the respectful, consideration of certain distinguished individuals, who have spoken, and written, doubtingly, if not precisely, in their favor, goes but a very little way, in their behalf. There was a time, when all the world believed, that the sun revolved around the earth, and that the blood was a stagnant pool, in the human body. There are none, I presume, of all, who give their confidence to any marvel of modern times, who are more learned or more wise, than Sir Matthew Hale, or Sir Thomas Browne. Yet both these wise and learned men were firm believers, in witchcraft; and two miserable people, Cullender and Duny, were given over to be hung, by Sir Matthew, partly upon the testimony of Sir Thomas.
Though nobody, whose sense is of the common kind, believes in witchcraft, at the present day, there was formerly no lack of believers, in any rank, or profession, in society. The matter was taken for a fixed and incontrovertible fact. The evidence was clear and conclusive, in the opinion of some, among the most eminent judges. If to doubt was not exactly to be damned, it often brought the audacious unbeliever, in danger of being hanged. Competent witnesses gravely swore, that pins and needles were run into their bodies, by persons, at the distance of a mile or more. For this offence, the witches were sentenced to be hanged; and, upon the gallows, confessed, with tears in their eyes, that they did really stick those identical pins, into the bodies of their accusers, being at the time, at the distance of a mile or more; and were swung off; having thus made their peace with God. Witnesses actually swore, that their houses were rocked, by old women, apparently too feeble to rock an infant’s cradle, and that tables and chairs were turned topsy turvy; and the old ladies confessed, that they had actually rocked two-story houses and upset those tables, and seemed to be pleased with the distinction of being hanged, for the achievement.
Whoever doubted these miracles was called upon to explain, or believe; and, if he could not indicate clearly the mode, in which this jugglery was effected, he was required to believe in a thing, which was manifestly not in rerum natura. In this dilemma, he might suggest an example of legerdemain, familiar to us all—a juggler puts an egg into an ordinary hat, and, apparently, in an instant, the egg is converted into a pancake. If the beholder cannot demonstrate how this is done, he, of course, must believe in the actual conversion, that is in transubstantiation. I have seen this little miracle performed, and confess I do not understand it; and yet I exceedingly doubt, if an egg can be so instantly converted into a pancake.
The witch of Endor pretended to conjure up the dead. The effigy was supposed to be made manifest to the eye. Our modern witches and wizards conjure, up or down, whichever it may be, invisible spirits. These spirits have no power of audible speech; thus far, at least, they seem not to have recovered the use of their tongues. To be sure, spirit without matter cannot be supposed to emit sounds; but such is not the case here, for they convey their responses, audibly, by knockings. This is rather a circuitous mode of conveying intelligence, with their fingers and toes, which might be more easily conveyed by the voice.
The difference, between our Blitzes and Samees, and the Fishes and the Foxes, consists in this—the former never, for a moment, pretend, that eggs are in reality pancakes, or that they actually perform the pretty miracles, which they seem to perform—the latter gravely contend, as it was contended, in the days of witchcraft, those days, that tried old women’s souls, that their achievements are realities.
So long as these matters are merely harmless, even though they consume much valuable time, that might be more worthily employed, and transfer the illy-spared coin of the credulous poor, from their own pockets, to the pockets of unprincipled jugglers and impostors, perhaps it may be well to suffer the evil to correct itself, and die even a lingering death. But, when it is manifestly spreading, broadcast, over the land, and even receiving a dash of something like grave importance from the pen, occasionally, of some professional gentleman, whose very doubt may dignify delusion; the matter seems really to demand some little consideration, at least: not that the doubts, even of a respectable physician, elaborately uttered, in a journal of fair repute, can do more to establish the power of mother Fish or mother Fox, to raise the dead, than was achieved, by the opinion of Lord Chief Justice Hale, in favor of witchcraft. That has fallen, as, in due time, this will fall, into merited contempt. But the expression of doubts, from a respectable quarter, upon an occasion like the present, tends, obviously, to strengthen those hands, which probably deserve to be paralyzed.