WITCHES, AND OTHER NIGHT-FEARS
IhavesometimesthoughtthatIcouldnothaveexistedinthedaysofreceivedwitchcraft;thatIcouldnothavesleptinavillagewhereoneofthosereputedhagsdwelt.Ourancestorswerebolderormoreobtuse.Amidsttheuniversalbeliefthatthesewretcheswereinleaguewiththeauthorofallevil,holdinghelltributarytotheirmuttering,nosimpleJusticeofthePeaceseemstohavescrupledissuing,orsillyHeadboroughserving,awarrantuponthem——asiftheyshouldsubpoenaSatan!——Prosperoinhisboat,withhisbooksandwandabouthim,suffershimselftobeconveyedawayatthemercyofhisenemiestoanunknownisland.Hemighthaveraisedastormortwo,wethink,onthepassage.Hisacquiescenceisinexactanalogytothenon-resistanceofwitchestotheconstitutedpowers——WhatstopstheFiendinSpenserfromtearingGuyontopieces——orwhohadmadeitaconditionofhisprey,thatGuyonmusttakeassayofthegloriousbait——wehavenoguess.Wedonotknowthelawsofthatcountry.
FrommychildhoodIwasextremelyinquisitiveaboutwitchesandwitch-stories.Mymaid,andmorelegendaryaunt,suppliedmewith,goodstore.ButIshallmentiontheaccidentwhichdirectedmycuriosityoriginallyintothischannel.Inmyfathersbook-closet,theHistoryoftheBible,byStackhouse,occupiedadistinguishedstation.Thepictureswithwhichitabounds——oneoftheark,inparticular,andanotherofSolomonstemple,delineatedwithallthefidelityofocularadmeasurement,asiftheartisthadbeenuponthespot——attractedmychildishattention.Therewasapicture,too,oftheWitchraisingupSamuel,whichIwishthatIhadneverseen.Weshalletothathereafter.Stackhouseisintwohugetomes——andtherewasapleasureinremovingfoliosofthatmagnitude,which,withinfinitestraining,wasasmuchasIcouldmanage,fromthesituationwhichtheyoccupieduponanuppershelf.Ihavenotmetwiththeworkfromthattimetothis,butIrememberitconsistedofOldTestamentstories,orderlysetdown,withtheobjectionappendedtoeachstory,andthesolutionoftheobjectionregularlytackedtothat.Theobjectionwasasummaryofwhateverdifficultieshadbeenopposedtothecredibilityofthehistory,bytheshrewdnessofancientormoderninfidelity,drawnupwithanalmostplimentaryexcessofcandour.Thesolutionwasbrief,modest,andsatisfactory.Thebaneandantidotewerebothbeforeyou.Todoubtssoput,andsoquashed,thereseemedtobeanendforever.Thedragonisdead,forthefootoftheveriestbabetotrampleon.But——likeaswasratherfearedthanrealisedfromthatslainmonsterinSpenser——fromthewombofthosecrushederrorsyoungdragonetswouldcreep,exceedingtheprowessofsotenderaSaintGeorgeasmyselftovanquish.Thehabitofexpectingobjectionstoeverypassage,setmeuponstartingmoreobjections,forthegloryoffindingasolutionofmyownforthem.Ibecamestaggeredandperplexed,ascepticinlongcoats.TheprettyBiblestorieswhichIhadread,orheardreadinchurch,losttheirpurityandsincerityofimpression,andwereturnedintosomanyhistoricorchronologicthesestobedefendedagainstwhateverimpugners.Iwasnottodisbelievethem,but——thenextthingtothat——Iwastobequitesurethatsomeoneorotherwouldorhaddisbelievedthem.Nexttomakingachildaninfidel,isthelettinghimknowthatthereareinfidelsatall.Credulityisthemansweakness,butthechildsstrength.0,howuglysoundscripturaldoubtsfromthemouthofababeandasuckling——Ishouldhavelostmyselfinthesemazes,andhavepinedaway,Ithink,withsuchunfitsustenanceasthesehusksafforded,butforafortunatepieceofill-fortune,whichaboutthistimebefelme.Turningoverthepictureofthearkwithtoomuchhaste,Iunhappilymadeabreachinitsingeniousfabric-drivingmyinconsideratefingersrightthroughthetwolargerquadrupedstheelephant,andthecamel——thatstare(aswelltheymight)outofthetwolastwindowsnextthesteerageinthatuniquepieceofnavalarchitecture.Stackhousewashenceforthlockedup,andbecameaninterdictedtreasure.Withthebook,theobjectionsandsolutiongraduallyclearedoutofmyhead,andhaveseldomreturnedsinceinanyforcetotroubleme——ButtherewasoneimpressionwhichIhadimbibedfromStackhouse,whichnolockorbarcouldshutout,andwhichwasdestinedtotrymychildishnervesrathermoreseriously——Thatdetestablepicture!
Iwasdreadfullyalivetonervousterrors.Thenight-timesolitude,andthedark,weremyhell.ThesufferingsIenduredinthisnaturewouldjustifytheexpression.Ineverlaidmyheadonmypillow,Isuppose,fromthefourthtotheseventhoreighthyearofmylife——sofarasmemoryservesinthingssolongago——withoutanassurance,whichrealizeditsownprophecy,ofseeingsomefrightfulspectre.BeoldStackhousethenacquittedinpart,ifIsay,thattohispictureoftheWitchraisingupSamuel——(Othatoldmancoveredwithamantle!)Iowe——notmymidnightterrors,thehellofmyinfancy——buttheshapeandmanneroftheirvisitation.Itwashewhodressedupformeahagthatnightlysateuponmypillow——asurebed-fellow,whenmyauntormymaidwasfarfromme.Alldaylong,whilethebookwaspermittedme,Idreamedwakingoverhisdelineation,andatnight(ifImayusesoboldanexpression)awokeintosleep,andfoundthevisiontrue.Idurstnot,evenintheday-light,onceenterthechamberwhereIslept,withoutmyfaceturnedtothewindow,averselyfromthebedwheremywitch-riddenpillowwas——Parentsdonotknowwhattheydowhentheyleavetenderbabesalonetogotosleepinthedark.Thefeelingaboutforafriendlyarm——thehopingforafamiliarvoice——whentheywakescreaming——andfindnonetosoothethem——whataterribleshakingitistotheirpoornerves!Thekeepingthemuptillmidnight,throughcandle-lightandtheunwholesomehours,astheyarecalled,——would,Iamsatisfied,inamedicalpointofview,provethebettercaution——Thatdetestablepicture,asIhavesaid,gavethefashiontomydreams——ifdreamstheywere——forthesceneofthemwasinvariablytheroominwhichIlay.HadInevermetwiththepicture,thefearswouldhaveeself-picturedinsomeshapeorother-
Headlessbear,blackman,orape——
but,asitwas,myimaginationstookthatform——Itisnotbook,orpicture,orthestoriesoffoolishservants,whichcreatetheseterrorsinchildren.Theycanatmostbutgivethemadirection.DearlittleT.N.whoofallchildrenhasbeenbroughtupwiththemostscrupulousexclusionofeverytaintofsuperstition——whowasneverallowedtohearofgoblinorapparition,orscarcelytobetoldofbadmen,ortoreadorhearofanydistressingstory——findsallthisworldoffear,fromwhichhehasbeensorigidlyexcludedabextra,inhisown"thick-ingfancies;"andfromhislittlemidnightpillow,thisnurse-childofoptimismwillstartatshapes,unborrowedoftradition,insweatstowhichthereveriesofthecell-damnedmurdereraretranquillity.
Gorgons,andHydras,andChimeras——direstoriesofCelaenoandtheHarpiesmayreproducethemselvesinthebrainofsuperstition——buttheyweretherebefore.Theyaretranscripts,types——thearchetypesareinus,andeternal.Howelseshouldtherecitalofthat,whichweknowinawakingsensetobefalse,etoaffectusatall?——or——
Names,whosesenseweseenot,
Frayuswiththingsthatbenot?
Isitthatwenaturallyconceiveterrorfromsuchobjects,consideredintheircapacityofbeingabletoinflictuponusbodilyinjury?——O,leastofall!Theseterrorsareofolderstanding.Theydatebeyondbody——or,withoutthebodytheywouldhavebeenthesame.Allthecruel,tormenting,defineddevilsinDante——tearing,mangling,choking,stifling,scorchingdemons——aretheyonehalfsofearfultothespiritofaman,asthesimpleideaofaspiritunembodiedfollowinghim-
Likeonethatonalonesomeroad
Dothwalkinfearanddread,
Andhavingonceturndround,walkson,
Andturnsnomorehishead;
Becauseheknowsafrightfulfiend
Dothclosebehindhimtread*.
[Footnote]*Mr,ColeridgesAncientMariner
Thatthekindoffearheretreatedofispurelyspiritual——thatitisstronginproportionasitisobjectlessuponearth——thatitpredominatesintheperiodofsinlessinfancy——aredifficulties,thesolutionofwhichmightaffordsomeprobableinsightintoourante-mundanecondition,andapeepatleastintotheshadow-landofpre-existence.
Mynight-fancieshavelongceasedtobeafflictive.Iconfessanoccasionalnightmare;butIdonot,asinearlyyouth,keepastudofthem.Fiendishfaces,withtheextinguishedtaper,willeandlookatme;butIknowthemformockeries,evenwhileIcannoteludetheirpresence,andIfightandgrapplewiththem.Forthecreditofmyimagination,Iamalmostashamedtosayhowtameandprosaicmydreamsaregrown.Theyareneverromantic,seldomevenrural.Theyareofarchitectureandofbuildingscitiesabroad,whichIhaveneverseen,andhardlyhavehopetosee.Ihavetraversed,fortheseeminglengthofanaturalday,Rome,Amsterdam,Paris,Lisbon——theirchurches,palaces,squares,market-places,shops,suburbs,ruins,withaninexpressiblesenseofdelight——amap-likedistinctnessoftrace——andaday-lightvividnessofvision,thatwasallbutbeingawake——IhaveformerlytravelledamongtheWestmorelandfells——myhighestAlps,——buttheyareobjectstoomightyforthegraspofmyroamingrecognition;andIhaveagainandagainawokewithineffectualstrugglesoftheinnereye,tomakeoutashapeinanywaywhatever,ofHelvellyn.MethoughtIwasinthatcountry,butthemountainsweregone.Thepovertyofmydreamsmortifiesme.ThereisColeridge,athiswillcanconjureupicydomes,andpleasure-housesforKublaKhan,andAbyssinianmaids,andsongsofAbara,andcaverns,
WhereAlph,thesacredriver,runs,
tosolacehisnightsolitudes——whenIcannotmusterafiddle.BarryCornwallhashistritonsandhisnereidsgambolingbeforehiminnocturnalvisions,andproclaimingsonsborntoNeptune——whenmystretchofimaginativeactivitycanhardly,inthenightseason,raiseuptheghostofafish-wife.Tosetmyfailuresinsomewhatamortifyinglight——itwasafterreadingthenobleDreamofthispoet,thatmyfancyranstronguponthesemarinespectra;andthepoorplasticpower,suchasitis,withinmesettowork,tohumourmyfollyinasortofdreamthatverynight.MethoughtIwasupontheoceanbillowsatsomeseanuptials,ridingandmountedhigh,withthecustomarytrainsoundingtheirconchsbeforeme,(Imyself,youmaybesure,theleadinggod,)andjollilywewentcareeringoverthemain,tilljustwhereInoLeucotheashouldhavegreetedme(IthinkitwasIno)withawhiteembrace,thebillowsgraduallysubsiding,fellfromasea-roughnesstoasea-calm,andthencetoariver-motion,andthatriver(ashappensinthefamiliarizationofdreams)wasnootherthanthegentleThames,whichlandedme,inthewaftureofalucidwaveortwo,alone,safeandinglorious,somewhereatthefootofLambethpalace.Thedegreeofthesoulscreativenessinsleepmightfurnishnowhimsicalcriterionofthequantumofpoeticalfacultyresidentinthesamesoulwaking.Anoldgentleman,afriendofmine,andahumorist,usedtocarrythisnotionsofar,thatwhenhesawanystriplingofhisacquaintanceambitiousofbeingapoet,hisfirstquestionwouldbe,——"Youngman,whatsortofdreamshaveyou?"Ihavesomuchfaithinmyoldfriendstheory,thatwhenIfeelthatidleveinreturninguponme,Ipresentlysubsideintomyproperelementofprose,rememberingthoseeludingnereids,andthatinauspiciousinlandlanding.