Part 4

“Although I very willingly allow, and am well aware that many and perhaps the generality of dreams arise from causes which are founded merely in the body, and therefore can have no further significance―yet I believe I have been convinced by repeated experience that there are not unfrequently dreams, in the origin and existence of which the body, as such, has no part; and to these, in my opinion, belong the three instances above mentioned.

“I do not think that the contents of these dreams ought to give occasion to any one to judge wrongfully; for otherwise, I could just as well have selected others: but I have placed them together precisely because of their similarity.

“CHRIST KNAPE, “Doc. of Philosophy, Medicine, and Surgery.”

REMARKABLE FULFILLMENT OF A PREDICTION.

FROM A GERMAN AUTHOR.

In my younger days, there was a dinner given in the village of Floremburgh, Westphalia, where I was born, on the occasion of a baptism, to which the clergyman, a worthy man, was invited. During dinner, the conversation turned upon the grave-digger of the place, who was well known, particularly on account of his second-sight, and even feared; for as often as he saw a corpse, he was always telling that there would be a funeral out of such a house. Now, as the event invariably took place, the inhabitants of the house he indicated were placed by the man’s tale in the greatest dilemma and anxiety, particularly if there was any one in the house who was sickly, whose death might probably be hastened if the prediction was not concealed from him―which, however, generally took place.

This man’s prophecying was an abomination to the clergyman. He forbade it, he reproved, he scolded, but all to no purpose; for the poor dolt, although he was a drunkard, and a man of low and vulgar sentiments, believed firmly that it was a prophetic gift of God, and that he must make it known, in order that the people might still repent. At length, as all reproof was in vain, the clergyman gave him notice that if he announced one funeral more, he should be deprived of his place, and expelled the village. This availed―the grave-digger was silent from that time forward. Half a year afterward, in autumn, about the year 1745, the grave-digger comes to the clergyman and says: “Sir, you have forbidden me to announce any more funerals, and I have not done so since, nor will I do so any more; but I must now tell you something that is particularly remarkable, that you may see that my second-sight is really true. In a few weeks a corpse will be brought up the meadow, which will be drawn on a sledge by an ox.” The clergyman seemingly paid no attention to this, but listened to it with indifference, and replied: “Only go about your business, and leave off such superstitious follies; it is sinful to have anything to do with them.”

The thing, nevertheless, appeared extremely singular and remarkable to the clergyman; for, in my country, a corpse being drawn on a sledge by an ox is most disgraceful, because the bodies of those that commit suicide, and notorious malefactors, are thus drawn on sledges.

Some weeks after a strong body of Austrian troops passed through the village on their way to the Netherlands. While resting there a day, the snow fell nearly three feet deep. At the same time, a woman died in another village of the same parish. The military took away all the horses out of the country to drag their wagons. Meanwhile the corpse lay there; no horses came back; the corpse began to putrify, and the stench became intolerable: they were, therefore, compelled to make a virtue of necessity―to place the corpse upon a sledge and harness an ox to the vehicle.

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.