Kitabı oku: «The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 17, No. 491, May 28, 1831», sayfa 2

Various

Yazı tipi:

POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS

(For the Mirror.)

No man will be found in whose mind airy notions do not sometimes tyrannize and force him to hope or fear beyond the limits of sober probability.—Johnson.

The superstitions of nations must always be interesting, since they afford a criterion of the progress that knowledge and reason have made. To trace the origin of the belief that departed spirits revisit the earth, a belief apparently so repugnant to reason and revelation, must ever attract the attention of the curious. For it is a question of importance to religion, even although the existence of apparitions would not in the slightest degree invalidate those sacred writings on which the bases of religion are founded; on the contrary, if the reality of apparitions (that is of the existence of apparitions) could be ascertained, another proof would be added to an immense weight of testimony of the ability possessed by the Deity to arrest or alter what appears the ordinary course of nature.

The existence of apparitions has been acknowledged by many, and a tendency towards a belief of them is to be remarked in many more. Ardent, and what is stranger still, since directly opposed to ardent, morbid minds are too ready to embrace "the pleasing dreadful thought," and to this may be attributed the prevalence of this kind of superstition among the poets, and all indeed of an enthusiastic temperament.³ Some of the tales urged in defence of apparitions are upon a primâ facié observation to be traced to an exuberance⁴ of imagination on the part of the ghost, others that are plainly false, and others that as they cannot be authenticated, are not worthy of notice. I shall here give what I consider an example of the former.

During the celebrated Peninsular campaign, as a lady, whose son, a French officer in Spain, was seated in her room, she was astonished to perceive the folding doors at the bottom of the apartment slowly open, and disclose to her eyes, her son. He begged her not to be alarmed, and informed her that he had been just killed by a grape-shot, and even showed her the wound in his side; the doors closed again and she saw no more. In a few days she received a letter, which informed her that her son had fallen, after distinguishing himself in a most gallant manner, and mentioning the time of his death, which happened at precisely the same moment the apparition was seen by her! And when I add that the lady was not at all addicted to superstition, the strangeness of the occurrence is considerably increased. What inference is to be drawn from this extraordinary tale? I confess I cannot, and do not, believe that apparitions revisit the earth even at the "glimpses o' the moon," nor does this story at all change my opinion, and for one grand reason, which is this—That it is highly improbable that the course of nature would be interrupted for the production of so insignificant an effect, for it appears an unnecessary exertion of divine power, when the good attained would be little or none.

Let us, therefore, attribute it to a powerful imagination acting on a mind already affected with anxiety, and I believe we shall have no occasion for yielding to the idea of an apparition to explain the circumstance. I am acquainted with another tale of the same kind, but I am debarred from relating it, from my not being authorized to do so by the person, a gentleman of large property in Scotland, to whom it occurred. Lord Byron was much addicted to that species of superstition of which I am treating: the gloomy idea of spirits revisiting the earth to gaze on those who they loved, was congenial to his mind, and an overheated fancy indulged beyond its due limits, converted the morbid visionary into the superstitious ascetic.

There is an account of a ghost related in the Notes to Moore's Life of the Noble Poet (vol. i.) I have mentioned, which I shall detail here, as it may have escaped the memory of some of your readers. A captain of a merchant vessel was on a voyage to some port; having retired to rest, he was disturbed in the night by a horrid dream, that his brother, an officer in the navy was drowned. He awoke and perceived something dark lying at the foot of the hammock, and on putting out his hand discovered it was a naval uniform, wet. Some days after this his dream was confirmed by a letter informing him of his brother's death by drowning.

At Oakhampton, in Devonshire, there are the remains of a beautiful castle dismantled by Henry VIII. on the attainder of Henry Courtenay, which is situated in a park, concerning which many traditions exist, one of which I will give here as it was told by a native. A great many years ago, there lived a lady at Oakhampton Castle, who was famous for her love of cruelty and for unbounded ostentation. This lady was killed, and her ghost haunted some house in Oakhampton much to the discomfiture of all the inhabitants thereof. A conclave of "most grave and reverend signiors" was convoked, who ordained that the disturbed spirit should every night pluck a blade of grass till all should be gathered. And now, every night at the chilly hour of midnight, the lady in a splendid coach with four skeleton horses, a skeleton coachman, and skeleton footmen, is to be seen in the park obeying the dictum of the Oakhampton worthies. This legend will be found, I am told, in "Fitz, of Fitzford," by Mrs. Bray. I shall not comment on this, as it evidently appears a wild legend, on which we can found nothing.

There is another tale which I shall recount here, since I can vouch for its authenticity.

During the Irish Rebellion of 1798, a gentleman went to take possession of a house in a lone district of Ireland. The house had been uninhabited for some time, and was out of repair. Between nine and twelve at night, when the gentleman had retired to rest, he was alarmed by hearing a noise; he listened, the noise increased till the house rung with the repeated shocks; he hastily sprung out of bed, and imagining it was the Rebels, he rushed into the room where his servant slept; "Patrick, get up, the Rebels are breaking in," said he, "Don't you hear the noise?" "Lord bless yer honor's worship and glory, it's only the Daunder." "Daunder, sir, you rebel, the Daunder, what do you mean?" The servant explained that the knocking was regularly heard every night at the same time, and such was the case. Various parts of the wall were pulled down, and the house almost rebuilt, but to no purpose.

Foley Place.
An Antiquary.

POEMS BY A KING OF PERSIA

(To the Editor.)

It is rather an unusual thing in the present age to hear of monarchs being authors, and much more so of being poets. It is true, there have been instances of this kind in former times; but perhaps none deserved more notice than Fath Ali Shah, the King of Persia. The author of a collection of elegies and sonnets, Mr. Scott Waring, in his "Tour to Sheeraz," has exhibited a specimen of the king's amatory productions. He also states that the government of Kashan, one of the chief cities in Persia, was the reward of the king to the person who excelled in poetical composition.

The four subjoined poems are the production of this celebrated monarch.

William Runting.

I

She who is the object of my love
Has just declared she will not grant me
Another kiss, but at the price of my existence:
Ah! why have I not a thousand lives,
That I might sacrifice them all on these conditions.

The flame which she has enkindled in my heart
Is so bright, that it dazzles the universe:
It is a torch enclosed within crystal.
This heart is a Christian temple,
Wherein Beauty has established her sanctuary;
And the sighs which escape from it
Are like the loud ringing bells.⁵

Ah! too fascinating object! how dangerous
Are thy looks!—they wound indifferently
The hearts of young and old: they are
More to be dreaded than the fatal arrows of the mighty Toos.⁶
Delight us with a glimpse of thy lovely form;
Charm our senses by the elegance of thy attitudes;
Our hearts are transported by thy glances.
The proud peacock, covered with confusion,
Dares not display before thee the rich
And pompous variety of his plumage.
Thy ebon ringlets are chains, which hold
Monarchs in captivity, and make
Them slaves to the power of thy charms.

The dust on which thou treadest becomes an ornament,
Worthy of the imperial diadem of Caus.⁷
Haughty kings now prostrate themselves
Before Khacan,⁸ since he has obtained
A favourable look from the object of his love.

II

That blessing which the fountain of life
Bestowed in former ages on Khezr⁹
Thy lips can communicate in a manner
Infinitely more efficacious.
Nature, confounded at the aspect of thy lovely mouth,
Conceals her rubies within a rock;—
Our hearts, ensnared by those eyes which express
All the softness of amorous intoxication,
Are held captive in the dimples of thy chin.

Love has excited in my soul a fire
Which cannot be extinguished;—
My bosom is become red with flames,
Like a parterre of roses;—
This heart is no longer mine:
It hangs suspended on the ringlets of thy hair—
And thou, cruel fair! thou piercest it
With a glance of thy cold disdain.
Ah! inquire not into the wretched. Khacan's fate:
Thy waving locks have deprived him of reason;
But how many thousand lovers, before him,
Have fallen victims to the magic of thy beauty.

III

My soul, captivated by thy charms,
Wastes itself away in chains, and bends beneath
The weight of oppression. Thou hast said
"Love will bring thee to the tomb—arise,
And leave his dominions" But, alas!
I wish to expire at thy feet, rather than to abandon
Altogether my hopes of possessing thee.
I swear, by the two bows that send forth
Irresistible arrows from thine eyes,
That my days have lost their lustre:
They are dark as the jet of thy waving ringlets;
And the sweetness of thy lips far exceeds,
In the opinion of Khacan, all that
The richest sugar-cane has ever yielded.

IV

The humid clouds of spring float over the enamelled meads,
And, like my eyes, dissolve in tears.
My fancy seeks thee in all places; and the beauties
Of Nature retrace, at every moment,
Thy enchanting image. But thou, O cruel fair one!
Thou endeavourest to efface from thy memory
The recollection of my ardent love—my tender constancy.

Thy charms eclipse the growing tulip—
Thy graceful stature puts to shame the lofty cyprus.
Let every nymph, although equal in beauty to Shireen,¹⁰
Pay homage to thy superiority; and let all men
Become like Ferhad¹¹ of the mountain,
Distracted on beholding thy loveliness.

How could the star of day have shone amidst the heavens,
If the moon of thy countenance had not concealed
Its splendour beneath the cloud of a veil?
Oh! banish me not from thy sight;
Command me—it will be charitable—
Command me to die.
How long wilt thou reject the amorous solicitations
Of thy Khacan? Wilt thou drive him to madness
By thy unrelenting cruelty? The doomed
To endless tears and lamentations.

3.Dr. Johnson, it is well known, was a firm believer in ghosts, as the following extract will show:—"That the dead are seen no more," said Imlac, "I will undertake to maintain, against the concurrent and unvaried testimony of all ages, and of all nations. * * * This opinion which, perhaps, prevails as far as human nature is diffused, could become universal only by its truth(!): those that never heard of one another would not have agreed in a tale which nothing but experience could make credible."—Rasselas, chap. xxx.

4.When the grammarians could not interpret some word in a sentence, which they could make without it, they used to attribute the unfortunate word to a natural redundancy in the language, and in the same manner all ghost stories could be solved by referring it to "an exuberance," &c. &c.

5.A person, called the Mawezn, summons the people to prayers from the tower, at certain stated times, by ringing bells.

6.Toos, the son of Nouder, makes a conspicuous figure among the princes and warriors, celebrated by Ferdoosi in his book of Kings.

7.Caus supposed to have been Darius the Mede by some historians.

8.This poetical surname Khacan, adopted by Fath Ali Shah, signifies emperor or king.

9.The prophet Khezr (whom some mistake for Elias) is said to have discovered and tasted the "waters of immortality," and consequently to be exempt from death.

10.Shireen, the favourite of Khosroo, is no less celebrated for her beauty than for the passion with which she inspired Ferhad.

11.Of this unfortunate lover Ferhad, the romantic story has been told by several distinguished writers. The mountain to which our royal poet alludes is the Kooh Bisetoon (in the province of Curdistan), where are still visible many figures sculptured in the rock, which, by the romances of Persia, are ascribed to the statuary Ferhad. Among these sculptures, travellers have noticed the representation of a female—according to local tradition, the fair Shireen, mistress to King Khosroo, and the fascinating object of Ferhad's love. As a recompense for clearing a passage over the mountain of Bisetoon, by removing immense rocks, which obstructed the path (a task of such labour as far exceeded the power of common mortals, by Ferhad, however, executed with ease), the monarch had promised to bestow Shireen on the enamoured statuary. But a false report of the fair one's death having been communicated to Ferhad in a sudden manner, he immediately destroyed himself; and the scene of this catastrophe is still shown among the recesses of Mount Bisetoon.