Chance and Luck

It is to be noticed, indeed, that many who reject the idea that the ordinary superstitions have any real significance, are nevertheless unwilling to run directly counter to them. Thus, a man shall be altogether skeptical as to the evil effects which follow, according to a common superstition, from passing under a ladder; he may be perfectly satisfied that the proper reason for not passing under a ladder is the possibility of its falling, or of something falling from it: yet he will not pass under a ladder, even though it is well secured, and obviously carries nothing which can fall upon him. So with the old superstition, that a broken mirror brings seven years of sorrow, which, according to some, dates from the time when a mirror was so costly as to represent seven years' savings -- there are those who despise the superstition who would yet be unwilling to tempt fate (as they put it) by willfully breaking even the most worthless old looking-glass. A story is not infrequently quoted in defense of such caution. Every one knows that sailors consider it unlucky for a ship to sail on a Friday. A person, anxious to destroy this superstition, had a ship's keel laid on a Friday, the ship launched on a Friday, her masts taken in from the sheer-hulk on a Friday, the cargo shipped on a Friday; he found (heaven knows how, but so the story runs) a Captain Friday to command her; and lastly, she sailed on a Friday. But the superstition was not destroyed, for the ship never returned to port, nor was the manner of her destruction known. Other instances of the kind might be cited. Thus a feeling is entertained by many persons not otherwise superstitious, that bad luck will follow any willful attempt to run counter to a superstition.

It is somewhat singular that attempts to correct even the more degrading forms of superstition have often been as unsuccessful as those attempts which may perhaps not unfairly be called tempting fate. Let me be understood. To refer to the example already given, it is a manifest absurdity to suppose that the sailing of a ship on a Friday is unfortunate; and it would be a piece of egregious folly to consider such a superstition when one has occasion to take a journey. But the case is different when any one undertakes to prove that the superstition is an absurdity; simply because he must assume in the first instance that he will succeed, a result which cannot be certain; and such confidence, apart from all question of superstition, is a mistake. In fact, a person so acting errs in the very same way as those whom he wishes to correct; they refrain from a certain act because of a blind fear of bad luck, and he proceeds to the act with an equally blind belief in good luck.

But one cannot recognize the same objection in the case of a person who tries to correct some superstition by actions not involving any tempting of fortune. Yet it has not infrequently happened that such actions have resulted in confirming the superstition. The following instance may be cited. An old woman came to Flamsteed, the first Astronomer-Royal, to ask him whereabouts a certain bundle of linen might be, which she had lost. Flamsteed determined to show the folly of that belief in astrology which had led her to Greenwich Observatory (under some misapprehension as to the duties of an Astronomer-Royal). He 'drew a circle, put a square into it, and gravely pointed out a ditch, near her cottage, in which he said it would be found.' He then waited until she should come back disappointed, and in a fit frame of mind to receive the rebuke he intended for her; but 'she came back in great delight, with the bundle in her hand, found in the very place.'