SECOND-Sight, a peculiar faculty, ascribed to some of the inhabitants of the Highlands of Scotland, by which they are said to foretell certain events before they come to pass. Some have denied, and others affirmed, the existence of this gift; instead of troubling our readers with the various accounts which they give of it, we shall present them with the following observations upon this subject by Dr Beattie of Aberdeen, whose account of the second-sight appears to us rational and well founded.
The Highlands of Scotland are a picturesque, but a melancholy country. Long tracts of mountainous desert, covered with dark heath, and often obscured by misty weather; narrow valleys, thinly inhabited, and bounded by precipices resounding with the fall of torrents; a soil so rugged, and a climate so dreary, as in many parts to admit neither the amusements of pasturage, nor the labours of agriculture; the mournful dashing of waves along the friths and lakes that intersect the country; the portentous noises which every change of the wind and every increased diminution of the waters is apt to raise in a lonely region full of echoes and rocks and caverns; the grotesque and ghastly appearance of such a landscape by the light of the moon: objects like these diffuse a gloom over the fancy, which may be compatible enough with occasional and social merriment, but cannot fail to tincture the thoughts of a native in the hour of silence and so-
litude. If these people, notwithstanding their reformation in religion, and more frequent intercourse with strangers, do still retain many of their old superstitions, we need not doubt but in former times they must have been much more enslaved to the horrors of imagination, when beset with the bugbears of Popery and Paganism. Most of their superstitions are of a melancholy cast. That of second-sight, by which some are still supposed to be haunted, is considered by themselves as a misfortune, on account of the many dreadful images it is said to obtrude upon the fancy. It is said that some of the Alpine regions do likewise lay claim to a sort of second-sight. Nor is it wonderful, that persons of a lively imagination, immersed in deep solitude, and surrounded with the stupendous scenery of clouds, precipices, and torrents, should dream (even when they think themselves awake) of those few striking ideas with which their lonely lives are diversified; of corpses, funeral processions, and other subjects of terror; or of marriages, and the arrival of strangers, and such like matters of more agreeable curiosity.
Let it be observed also, that the ancient Highlanders of Scotland had hardly any other way of supporting themselves than by hunting, fishing, or war, professions that are continually exposed to fatal accidents. And hence, no doubt, additional horrors would often haunt their solitude, and a deeper gloom overshadow the imagination even of the hardiest native.
A sufficient evidence can hardly be found for the reality of the second-sight, or at least of what is commonly understood by that term. A treatise on the subject was published in the year 1762, in which many tales were told of persons whom the author believed to have been favoured, or haunted, with these illuminations; but most of the tales were trifling and ridiculous: and the whole work betrayed, on the part of the compiler, such extreme credulity, as could not fail to prejudice many readers against his system.
That any of these visionaries are apt to be swayed in their declarations by sinister views, we will not say; but this may be said with confidence, that none but ignorant people pretend to be gifted in this way. And in them it may be nothing more, perhaps, than short fits of sudden sleep or drowsiness, attended with lively dreams, and arising from some bodily disorder, the effect of idleness, low spirits, or a gloomy imagination. For it is admitted, even by the most credulous Highlanders, that as knowledge and industry are propagated in their country, the second-sight disappears in proportion; and nobody ever laid claim to the faculty who was much employed in the intercourse of social life. Nor is it at all extraordinary, that one should have the appearance of being awake, and should even think one's self so, during those fits of dosing; that they should come on suddenly, and while one is engaged in some business. The same thing happens to persons much fatigued, or long kept awake, who frequently fall asleep for a moment, or for a long space, while they are standing, or walking, or riding on horseback. Add but a lively dream to this slumber, and (which is the frequent effect of disease) take away the consciousness of having been asleep, and a superstitious man may easily mistake his dream for a waking vision; which, how-
however, is soon forgotten when no subsequent occurrence recalls it to his memory; but which, if it shall be thought to resemble any future event, exalts the poor dreamer into a Highland prophet. This conceit makes him more recluse and more melancholy than ever; and so feeds his disease, and multiplies his visions: which, if they are not dissipated by business or society, may continue to haunt him as long as he lives; and which, in their progress through the neighbourhood, receive some new tinctures of the marvellous from every mouth that promotes their circulation. As to the prophetic nature of this second-sight, it cannot be admitted at all. That the Deity should work a miracle in order to give intimation of the frivolous things that these tales are made up of, the arrival of a stranger, the nailing of a coffin, or the colour of a suit of cloaths; and that these intimations should be given for no end, and to those persons only who are idle and solitary, who speak Galic, or who live among mountains and deserts, is like nothing in nature or providence that we are acquainted with; and must therefore, unless it were confirmed by satisfactory proof (which is not the case), be rejected as absurd and incredible.
These visions, such as they are, may reasonably enough be ascribed to a disempowered fancy. And that in them, as well as in our ordinary dreams, certain appearances should, on some rare occasions, resemble certain events, is to be expected from the laws of chance; and seems to have in it nothing more marvellous or supernatural, than that the parrot, who deals out his scurrilities at random, should sometimes happen to salute the passenger by his right appellation.