A Mystery-Loving Generation

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 596, 23 February 1929, Page 18

A Mystery-Loving Generation

ANCIENT MASCOTS’ SURVIVAL ... DO WE STILL BELIEVE IN WITCHCRAFT? -•. THE DIPLOMAT AND THE “EVIL EYE” - - • (Written for THE SUN by LADY DRUMMOND-HAY) HSTPICAL of our paradoxical 20th century Western civilisation the recent “Witchcraft Trial” in America revealed the amazing fact that a large proportion of the 150,000 inhabitants of the modern American city of York, in Pennsylvania, are alleged by the coroner to believe, and even participate, in magic rites. There is no denying that we are a superstitious and mystery-loving generation. The feats of Tahra Bey were so energetically emulated by his admirers in Paris, that chemists of that city are said to have been called upon to treat would-be “mystics” suffering from pin-holes and cuts on the face and body, and one man went to hospital to recover from lying on a bed of sharp nails.

It takes a vast deal more than mere physical courage to become a painproof fakir, or wonder-working Yogi. The genuine mystical gifts of both are above suspicion, and quite free from the reproach of superstition. The West still struggles to free itself from the shackles of superstition. Professor Voronoff promises us the Elixir of Youth, and a scientific charm whereby dullards will become geniuses; modern chemists still pursue the secret of the Philosopher’s Stone, of turning base metals into gold; a Russian savant, Dr. Vassilief, announces that he has discovered a way to render invisible inanimate bodies of men and animals, and that he hopes soon to bequeath the “cloak of invisibility” to living generations. Einstein himself is said deliberately to avoid walking under a ladder. Lady Dorothy Mills, one of the outstanding British women of the time, just left England on a voyage of exploration to study witchcraft. “I believe in witchcraft,” she told us before she left. Most people do, for the major-

ity are superstitious over one thing or another.

I know a famous Italian diplomat who never moves without his little horn of coral to protect him against the evil influence of a jettatore, or person with the “evil eye.” Jan Kubelik, the famous Czech violinist, admits that he is superstitious, but so are fnost artists. Woe betide the careless who would whistle in a dress-ing-room! Having lived much iu the Orient, and in Mediterranean countries, I am familiar with so many superstitions that I just have to ignore them, otherwise I “couldna move, I couldna’ breathe,” like the Scottish lassie when she had her Sunday alpacca on. My constant companion, a stuffed black cat, as the irreverent call it, might have caused an airplane tragedy. Flying over the perilous Transylvanian Alps, in a decidedly antiquated machine, I opened my bag inadvertently revealing my treasure. With an oath, my companion fell upon it, gasping that the pilot, who had the strongest superstitious prejudice against black cats, would certainly lose his nerve, and wreck the machine if he saw so much as its nose!

There is only one superstition’l take comfort in, and that is the Spanish belief that if you lose something it “takes away the evil.” I lost a valuable diamond and sapphire brooch just before the transatlantic Zeppelin flight, but to this day have hesitated about claiming insurance on it, for should I not be grateful that the Devil look the brooch instead of me?