On Superstitions - author Alfred George Gardiner

It was inevitable that the fact that a murder has taken place at a house with the number 13 in a street, the letters of whose name number 13 would not pass unnoticed. If we took the last hundred murders that have been committed, I suppose we should find that as many have taken place at No. 6 or No. 7, or any other number you choose, as at No. 13 – that the law of averages is as inexorable here as elesewhere.  But this consideration does not prevent the world remarking on the fact when No. 13 has its turn. Not that the world believes there is anything in the superstition. It is quite sure it is a mere childish folly, of course. Few of us would refuse to take a house because its number was 13, or decline an invitation to dinner because there were to be 13 at table. But most of us would be just a shade happier if that desirable residence were numbered 11, and not any the less pleased with the dinner if one of the guests contracted a chill that kept him away. We would not confess this little weakness to each other. We might even refuse to admit it to ourselves, but it is there.

That it exists is evident from many irrefutable signs. There are numerous streets in London, and I daresay in other towns too, in which there is no house numbered 13, and I am told that it is very rare that a bed in a hospital bears that number. The superstition, threadbare though it has worn, is still sufficiently real to enter into the calculations of a discreet landlord in regard to the letting qualities of this house, and into the calculations of a hospital as to the curative properties of a bed. In the latter case general agreement would support the concession to the superstition, idle though that superstition is. Physical recovery is a matter of the mind as well as of the body, and the slightest shadow on the mind may, in a condition of low vitality, retard and even defeat recovery. 

Florence Nightingale’s almost passionate advocacy of flowers in the sick-bedroom was based on the necessity of the creation of a certain state of mind in the patient. There are few more curious revelations in that moving record by M. Duhamel of medical experiences during the war than the case of the man who died of a pimple on his nose. He had been hideously mutilated in battle and was brought into hospital a sheer wreck; but he was slowly patched up and seemed to have been saved when a pimple appeared on his nose. It was nothing in itself, but it was enough to produce a mental state that checked the flickering return of life. It assumed a fantastic importance in the mind of the patient, who, having survived the heavy blows of Fate, died of something less than a pin-prick. It is not difficult to understand that so fragile a hold of life might yield to the sudden discovery that you were lying in No. 13 bed.

I am not sure that I could go into the witness-box and swear that I am wholly immune to these idle superstitions myself. It is true that of all the buses in London, that numbered 13 chances to be the one that I constantly use, and I do not remember, until now, ever to have associated the superstition with it. And certainly I have never had anything but the most civil treatment from it. It is as well behaved as a bus, and as free from unpleasant associations, as any on the road. I would not change its number if I had the power to do so. But there are other circumstances of which I should find it less easy to clear myself of suspicion  under cross-examination. I never see a ladder against a house –side without feeling that it is advisable to walk round it rather than under it. I say to myself that this is not homage to a foolish superstition, but a duty to my family. One must think of one’s family. The fellow at the top of the ladder may drop anything. He may even drop himself. He may have had too much to drink. He may be a victim of epileptic fits, and epileptic fits, as everyone knows, come on at the most unreasonable times and places. It is a mere measure of ordinary safety to walk around the ladder.

No man is justified in inviting danger in order to flaunt his superiority to an idle fancy. Moreover, probably that fancy has its roots in the commonsense fact that a man on a ladder does occasionally drop things. No doubt many of our superstitions have these commonplace and sensible origins. I imagine, for example, that the Jewish objection to pork as unclean on religious grounds is only due to the fact that in Eastern climates it is unclean on physical grounds.

All the same, I suspect that when I walk around the ladder I am rather glad that I have such respectable and unassailable reasons for doing so. Even if – conscious of this suspicion and ashamed to admit it to myself- I walk under the ladder, I am not quite sure that I have done so as a kind of negative concession to the superstition. I have challenged it rather than being unconscious of it. There is only one way of dodging the absurd dilemma, and that is to walk through the ladder. This is not easy. In the same way I am sensible of a certain satisfaction when I see the new moon in the open rather than my left. I would not for any consideration arrange these things consciously; but if they happen so I fancy I am better pleased than if they do not. And on these occasions I have even caught my hand – which chanced to be in my pocket at the time – turning over money, a little surreptitiously I thought, but still undeniably turning it. Hands have habits of their own and one can’t  always be watching them.

But these shadowy reminiscences of antique credulity which we discover in ourselves play no part in the lives of any of us. They belong to a creed outworn. Superstition was disinherited when science revealed the laws of the universe and put man in his place. It was no discredit to be superstitious when all the functions of Nature were unexplored, and man seemed the plaything of beneficent or sinister forces that he could neither control nor understand, but which held him in the hollow of their hand. He related everything that happened in Nature to his own inexplicable existence, saw his fate in the clouds, his happiness or misery announced in the flight of birds, and referred every phenomenon of life to the soothsayers and oracles.

You may read in Thucydides of battles being postponed ( and lost ) because some omen that had no more relation to the event than the falling of a leaf was against it. When Pompey  was afraid that the Romans would elect Cato as praetor he shouted to the Assembly that he heard thunder, and got the whole election postponed, for the Romans would never transact business after it had thundered. Alexander surrounded himself with fortune-tellers and took counsel with them as a modern ruler takes counsel with his Ministers. Even so great a man as Caesar and so modern and enlightened a man as Cicero left their fate to augurs and omens. Sometimes the omens were right and sometimes they were wrong, but whether right or wrong they were equally meaningless. Cicero lost his life by trusting to the wisdom of crows. When he was in flight from Antony and Caesar Augustus he put to sea and might have escaped. But some crows chanced to circle round his vessel, and he took the circumstance to be unfavourable to his action, returned to shore and was murdered. Even the farmer of ancient Greece consulted the omens and the oracles where the farmer today is only careful of his manures.

I should have liked to have seen Caesar and I should have liked to have heard Cicero, but on the balance I think we who inherit this later day and who can jest at the shadows that were so real to them have the better end of time. It is pleasant to be about when the light is abroad. We do not know much more of the Power that

                     Turns the handle of this idle show

than our forefathers did, but at least we have escaped the grotesque shadows that enveloped them. We do not look for divine guidance in the entrails of animals or the flight of crows, and the House of Commons does not adjourn at a clap of thunder.

Inevitable : unavoidable

Law of averages : rule by which one adds up similar quantities and divides them by the total number of quantities, a general estimate

Inexorable : that which can not be changed

Superstition : irrational fear

Childish folly : immature behaviour

Decline : refuse, fall

Just a shade happier : feel a little better

Contracted : get

Confess : admit

Irrefutable : that which can not be proved wrong

Threadbare though it has worn : no longer of any importance

Discreet : careful

Letting qualities : the rental value of the house

Curative properties : quality of healing

Concession to the superstition : give in to the irrational belief or fear

Slightest shadow on the mind : least doubt

Vitality : full of life

Retard : hinder, delay

Advocacy : plead, to support the use of

Revelations : to make known

Duhamel :pen name of Denis Thevenin ( 1884-1966 ) French physician, novelist and poet

Hideously mutilated : dreadfully disfigured

Sheer wreck : in total ruin, in this context means ruined physically and mentally

Checked the flickering return of life : stopped the process of recovering from ill health

Survived the heavy blows of Fate : lived and faced all the hardships in life

Fragile : delicate

Immune : free from, not influenced

Civil treatment : polite behaviour

Cross examination : to find out the true facts by questioning very carefully

Advisable : wiser

Homage : respect, esteem

Epileptic fits : illness of the nerve in which a person faints without any warning

Mere measure of ordinary safety : sensible behaviour to protect oneself

Flaunt : boast, show-off

Idle fancy : senseless belief

Unassailable : firm; unarguable

Negative concession : to agree when there is no other option

Turning over money : moving the coins around

Surreptitiously : slyly, secretly

Hands have a habit of their own and one can’t always watching them : a reference to the fact that often superstitious practices become habits and we unconsciously follow them

Shadowy reminiscences of antique credulity : vague and dim memories of old beliefs and customs which are still followed today

Creed : evil

Soothsayers : people who can predict the future

Oracles : mediums by which gods were supposed to speak

Thucydides : 460-400 B.C. Greek historian of the war between Athens and Sparta

Pompey : 106-48 B.C. Roman general and statesman

Cato : 95-46 B. C. Roman statesman, soldier and stoic philosopher

Praetor : elected magistrate of the Roman republic

Alexander ( 356-323 B. C. ) : king of Macedonia and famous emperor

Cicero : Roman statesman, orator, writer

Left their fate : allowed their lives to be controlled

Augur : a person who interprets omens

Omens : signs

He was in flight : escaping

Antony : Roman general and friend of Caesar

Caesar Augustus  ( 63 B. C.- 14 A.D. ) : great nephew of Julius Caesar and the first Emperor 27 B. C. -14 A.D.

Put to sea : sailed

But on the balance : when comparing the situations

Jest at the shadows that were so real : laugh at the beliefs that mattered so greatly

Light is abroad : when there is more understanding and knowledge

Turns the handle of this idle show : the force or power behind life and creation

Grotesque shadows that enveloped them : the misunderstandings and ignorance that the people of ancient times had to suffer

Divine guidance : heavenly powers to give direction

Entrails : intestines

Adjourn : suspend, postpone 

                            - From the book " Modern Essays "

                              Orient Longman Limited. 

Alfred George Gardiner (1865–1946) was a British journalist and author. His essays, written under the pen-name Alpha of the Plough, are highly regarded. He was also Chairman of the National Anti-Sweating League, a pressure group which campaigned for a minimum wage in industry. His Essays are characterized by humour and grace. In this essay, he describes in an essay and thought-provoking manner how superstitions influence us even today. 

                   - From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia / Modern Essays