[87909] in Discussion of MIT-community interests
How Trump Earned His Fortune.
daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (Profit Insiders)
Thu Sep 1 15:57:00 2016
Date: Thu, 1 Sep 2016 15:47:37 -0400
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<p>How Trump Earned His Fortune.<br /> The most thrilling peculiarity of=
this incident, nevertheless, is involved in what Mr. S. himself asserts. H=
e declares that at no period was he altogether insensible -- that, dully an=
d confusedly, he was aware of everything which happened to him, from the mo=
ment in which he was pronounced dead by his physicians, to that in which he=
fell swooning to the floor of the hospital. "I am alive," were t=
he uncomprehended words which, upon recognizing the locality of the dissect=
ing-room, he had endeavored, in his extremity, to utter. It were an easy ma=
tter to multiply such histories as these -- but I forbear -- for, indeed, w=
e have no need of such to establish the fact that premature interments occu=
r. When we reflect how very rarely, from the nature of the case, we have it=
in our power to detect them, we must admit that they may frequently occur =
without our cognizance. Scarcely, in truth, is a graveyard ever encroached =
upon, for any purpose, to any great extent, that skeletons are not found in=
postures which suggest the most fearful of suspicions. Fearful indeed the =
suspicion -- but more fearful the doom! It may be asserted, without hesitat=
ion, that no event is so terribly well adapted to inspire the supremeness o=
f bodily and of mental distress, as is burial before death. The unendurable=
oppression of the lungs -- the stifling fumes from the damp earth -- the c=
linging to the death garments -- the rigid embrace of the narrow house -- t=
he blackness of the absolute Night -- the silence like a sea that overwhelm=
s -- the unseen but palpable presence of the Conqueror Worm -- these things=
, with the thoughts of the air and grass above, with memory of dear friends=
who would fly to save us if but informed of our fate, and with consciousne=
ss that of this fate they can never be informed -- that our hopeless portio=
n is that of the really dead -- these considerations, I say, carry into the=
heart, which still palpitates, a degree of appalling and intolerable horro=
r from which the most daring imagination must recoil. We know of nothing so=
agonizing upon Earth -- we can dream of nothing half so hideous in the rea=
lms of the nethermost Hell. And thus all narratives upon this topic have an=
interest profound; an interest, nevertheless, which, through the sacred aw=
e of the topic itself, very properly and very peculiarly depends upon our c=
onviction of the truth of the matter narrated. What I have now to tell is o=
f my own actual knowledge -- of my own positive and personal experience. Fo=
r several years I had been subject to attacks of the singular disorder whic=
h physicians have agreed to term catalepsy, in default of a more definitive=
title. Although both the immediate and the predisposing causes, and even t=
he actual diagnosis, of this disease are still mysterious, its obvious and =
apparent character is sufficiently well understood. Its variations seem to =
be chiefly of degree. Sometimes the patient lies, for a day only, or even f=
or a shorter period, in a species of exaggerated lethargy. He is senseless =
and externally motionless; but the pulsation of the heart is still faintly =
perceptible; some traces of warmth remain; a slight color lingers within th=
e centre of the cheek; and, upon application of a mirror to the lips, we ca=
n detect a torpid, unequal, and vacillating action of the lungs. Then again=
the duration of the trance is for weeks -- even for months; while the clos=
est scrutiny, and the most rigorous medical tests, fail to establish any ma=
terial distinction between the state of the sufferer and what we conceive o=
f absolute death. Very usually he is saved from premature interment solely =
by the knowledge of his friends that he has been previously subject to cata=
lepsy, by the consequent suspicion excited, and, above all, by the non-appe=
arance of decay. The advances of the malady are, luckily, gradual. The firs=
t manifestations, although marked, are unequivocal. The fits grow successiv=
ely more and more distinctive, and endure each for a longer term than the p=
receding. In this lies the principal security from inhumation. The unfortun=
ate whose first attack should be of the extreme character which is occasion=
ally seen, would almost inevitably be consigned alive to the tomb. My own c=
ase differed in no important particular from those mentioned in medical boo=
ks. Sometimes, without any apparent cause, I sank, little by little, into a=
condition of hemi-syncope, or half swoon; and, in this condition, without =
pain, without ability to stir, or, strictly speaking, to think, but with a =
dull lethargic consciousness of life and of the presence of those who surro=
unded my bed, I remained, until the crisis of the disease restored me, sudd=
enly, to perfect sensation. At other times I was quickly and impetuously sm=
itten. I grew sick, and numb, and chilly, and dizzy, and so fell prostrate =
at once. Then, for weeks, all was void, and black, and silent, and Nothing =
became the universe. Total annihilation could be no more. From these latter=
attacks I awoke, however, with a gradation slow in proportion to the sudde=
nness of the seizure. Just as the day dawns to the friendless and houseless=
beggar who roams the streets throughout the long desolate winter night -- =
just so tardily -- just so wearily -- just so cheerily came back the light =
of the Soul to me. Apart from the tendency to trance, however, my general h=
ealth appeared to be good; nor could I perceive that it was at all affected=
by the one prevalent malady -- unless, indeed, an idiosyncrasy in my ordin=
ary sleep may be looked upon as superinduced. Upon awaking from slumber, I =
could never gain, at once, thorough possession of my senses, and always rem=
ained, for many minutes, in much bewilderment and perplexity; -- the mental=
faculties in general, but the memory in especial, being in a condition of =
absolute abeyance. In all that I endured there was no physical suffering bu=
t of moral distress an infinitude. My fancy grew charnel, I talked "of=
worms, of tombs, and epitaphs." I was lost in reveries of death, and =
the idea of premature burial held continual possession of my brain. The gha=
stly Danger to which I was subjected haunted me day and night. In the forme=
r, the torture of meditation was excessive -- in the latter, supreme. When =
the grim Darkness overspread the Earth, then, with every horror of thought,=
I shook -- shook as the quivering plumes upon the hearse. When Nature coul=
d endure wakefulness no longer, it was with a struggle that I consented to =
sleep -- for I shuddered to reflect that, upon awaking, I might find myself=
the tenant of a grave. And when, finally, I sank into slumber, it was only=
to rush at once into a world of phantasms, above which, with vast, sable, =
overshadowing wing, hovered, predominant, the one sepulchral Idea. From the=
innumerable images of gloom which thus oppressed me in dreams, I select fo=
r record but a solitary vision. Methought I was immersed in a cataleptic tr=
ance of more than usual duration and profundity. Suddenly there came an icy=
hand upon my forehead, and an impatient, gibbering voice whispered the wor=
d "Arise!" within my ear. I sat erect. The darkness was total. I =
could not see the figure of him who had aroused me. I could call to mind ne=
ither the period at which I had fallen into the trance, nor the locality in=
which I then lay. While I remained motionless, and busied in endeavors to =
collect my thought, the cold hand grasped me fiercely by the wrist, shaking=
it petulantly, while the gibbering voice said again: "Arise! did I no=
t bid thee arise?" "And who," I demanded, "art thou?&qu=
ot; "I have no name in the regions which I inhabit," replied the =
voice, mournfully; "I was mortal, but am fiend. I was merciless, but a=
m pitiful. Thou dost feel that I shudder. -- My teeth chatter as I speak, y=
et it is not with the chilliness of the night -- of the night without end. =
But this hideousness is insufferable. How canst thou tranquilly sleep? I ca=
nnot rest for the cry of these great agonies. These sights are more than I =
can bear. Get thee up! Come with me into the outer Night, and let me unfold=
to thee the graves. Is not this a spectacle of woe? -- Behold!" I loo=
ked; and the unseen figure, which still grasped me by the wrist, had caused=
to be thrown open the graves of all mankind, and from each issued the fain=
t phosphoric radiance of decay, so that I could see into the innermost rece=
sses, and there view the shrouded bodies in their sad and solemn slumbers w=
ith the worm. But alas! the real sleepers were fewer, by many millions, tha=
n those who slumbered not at all; and there was a feeble struggling; and th=
ere was a general sad unrest; and from out the depths of the countless pits=
there came a melancholy rustling from the garments of the buried. And of t=
hose who seemed tranquilly to repose, I saw that a vast number had changed,=
in a greater or less degree, the rigid and uneasy position in which they h=
ad originally been entombed. And the voice again said to me as I gazed: &qu=
ot;Is it not -- oh! is it not a pitiful sight?" -- but, before I could=
find words to reply, the figure had ceased to grasp my wrist, the phosphor=
ic lights expired, and the graves were closed with a sudden violence, while=
from out them arose a tumult of despairing cries, saying again: "Is i=
t not -- O, God, is it not a very pitiful sight?" Phantasies such as t=
hese, presenting themselves at night, extended their terrific influence far=
into my waking hours. My nerves became thoroughly unstrung, and I fell a p=
rey to perpetual horror. I hesitated to ride, or to walk, or to indulge in =
any exercise that would carry me from home. In fact, I no longer dared trus=
t myself out of the immediate presence of those who were aware of my pronen=
ess to catalepsy, lest, falling into one of my usual fits, I should be buri=
ed before my real condition could be ascertained. I doubted the care, the f=
idelity of my dearest friends. I dreaded that, in some trance of more than =
customary duration, they might be prevailed upon to regard me as irrecovera=
ble. I even went so far as to fear that, as I occasioned much trouble, they=
might be glad to consider any very protracted attack as sufficient excuse =
for getting rid of me altogether. It was in vain they endeavored to reassur=
e me by the most solemn promises. I exacted the most sacred oaths, that und=
er no circumstances they would bury me until decomposition had so materiall=
y advanced as to render farther preservation impossible. And, even then, my=
mortal terrors would listen to no reason -- would accept no consolation. I=
entered into a series of elaborate precautions. Among other things, I had =
the family vault so remodelled as to admit of being readily opened from wit=
hin. The slightest pressure upon a long lever that extended far into the to=
mb would cause the iron portal to fly back. There were arrangements also fo=
r the free admission of air and light, and convenient receptacles for food =
and water, within immediate reach of the coffin intended for my reception. =
This coffin was warmly and softly padded, and was provided with a lid, fash=
ioned upon the principle of the vault-door, with the addition of springs so=
contrived that the feeblest movement of the body would be sufficient to se=
t it at liberty. Besides all this, there was suspended from the roof of the=
tomb, a large bell, the rope of which, it was designed, should extend thro=
ugh a hole in the coffin, and so be fastened to one of the hands of the cor=
pse. But, alas? what avails the vigilance against the Destiny of man? Not e=
ven these well-contrived securities sufficed to save from the uttermost ago=
nies of living inhumation, a wretch to these agonies foredoomed! There arri=
ved an epoch -- as often before there had arrived -- in which I found mysel=
f emerging from total unconsciousness into the first feeble and indefinite =
sense of existence. Slowly -- with a tortoise gradation -- approached the f=
aint gray dawn of the psychal day. A torpid uneasiness. An apathetic endura=
nce of dull pain. No care -- no hope -- no effort. Then, after a long inter=
val, a ringing in the ears; then, after a lapse still longer, a prickling o=
r tingling sensation in the extremities; then a seemingly eternal period of=
pleasurable quiescence, during which the awakening feelings are struggling=
into thought; then a brief re-sinking into non-entity; then a sudden recov=
ery. At length the slight quivering of an eyelid, and immediately thereupon=
, an electric shock of a terror, deadly and indefinite, which sends the blo=
od in torrents from the temples to the heart. And now the first positive ef=
fort to think. And now the first endeavor to remember. And now a partial an=
d evanescent success. And now the memory has so far regained its dominion, =
that, in some measure, I am cognizant of my state. I feel that I am not awa=
king from ordinary sleep. I recollect that I have been subject to catalepsy=
And now, at last, as if by the rush of an ocean, my shuddering spirit is =
overwhelmed by the one grim Danger -- by the one spectral and ever-prevalen=
t idea. For some minutes after this fancy possessed me, I remained without =
motion. And why? I could not summon courage to move. I dared not make the e=
ffort which was to satisfy me of my fate -- and yet there was something at =
my heart which whispered me it was sure. Despair -- such as no other specie=
s of wretchedness ever calls into being -- despair alone urged me, after lo=
ng irresolution, to uplift the heavy lids of my eyes. I uplifted them. It w=
as dark -- all dark. I knew that the fit was over. I knew that the crisis o=
f my disorder had long passed. I knew that I had now fully recovered the us=
e of my visual faculties -- and yet it was dark -- all dark -- the intense =
and utter raylessness of the Night that endureth for evermore. I endeavored=
to shriek-, and my lips and my parched tongue moved convulsively together =
in the attempt -- but no voice issued from the cavernous lungs, which oppre=
ssed as if by the weight of some incumbent mountain, gasped and palpitated,=
with the heart, at every elaborate and struggling inspiration. The movemen=
t of the jaws, in this effort to cry aloud, showed me that they were bound =
up, as is usual with the dead. I felt, too, that I lay upon some hard subst=
ance, and by something similar my sides were, also, closely compressed. So =
far, I had not ventured to stir any of my limbs -- but now I violently thre=
w up my arms, which had been lying at length, with the wrists crossed. They=
struck a solid wooden substance, which extended above my person at an elev=
ation of not more than six inches from my face. I could no longer doubt tha=
t I reposed within a coffin at last. And now, amid all my infinite miseries=
, came sweetly the cherub Hope -- for I thought of my precautions. I writhe=
d, and made spasmodic exertions to force open the lid: it would not move. I=
felt my wrists for the bell-rope: it was not to be found. And now the Comf=
orter fled for ever, and a still sterner Despair reigned triumphant; for I =
could not help perceiving the absence of the paddings which I had so carefu=
lly prepared -- and then, too, there came suddenly to my nostrils the stron=
g peculiar odor of moist earth. The conclusion was irresistible. I was not =
within the vault. I had fallen into a trance while absent from home-while a=
mong strangers -- when, or how, I could not remember -- and it was they who=
had buried me as a dog -- nailed up in some common coffin -- and thrust de=
ep, deep, and for ever, into some ordinary and nameless grave. As this awfu=
l conviction forced itself, thus, into the innermost chambers of my soul, I=
once again struggled to cry aloud. And in this second endeavor I succeeded=
A long, wild, and continuous shriek, or yell of agony, resounded through =
the realms of the subterranean Night. "Hillo! hillo, there!" said=
a gruff voice, in reply. "What the devil's the matter now!" said=
a second. "Get out o' that!" said a third. "What do you mea=
n by yowling in that ere kind of style, like a cattymount?" said a fou=
rth; and hereupon I was seized and shaken without ceremony, for several min=
utes, by a junto of very rough-looking individuals. They did not arouse me =
from my slumber -- for I was wide awake when I screamed -- but they restore=
d me to the full possession of my memory. This adventure occurred near Rich=
mond, in Virginia. Accompanied by a friend, I had proceeded, upon a gunning=
expedition, some miles down the banks of the James River. Night approached=
, and we were overtaken by a storm. The cabin of a small sloop lying at anc=
hor in the stream, and laden with garden mould, afforded us the only availa=
ble shelter. We made the best of it, and passed the night on board. I slept=
in one of the only two berths in the vessel -- and the berths of a sloop o=
f sixty or twenty tons need scarcely be described. That which I occupied ha=
d no bedding of any kind. Its extreme width was eighteen inches. The distan=
ce of its bottom from the deck overhead was precisely the same. I found it =
a matter of exceeding difficulty to squeeze myself in. Nevertheless, I slep=
t soundly, and the whole of my vision -- for it was no dream, and no nightm=
are -- arose naturally from the circumstances of my position -- from my ord=
inary bias of thought -- and from the difficulty, to which I have alluded, =
of collecting my senses, and especially of regaining my memory, for a long =
time after awaking from slumber. The men who shook me were the crew of the =
sloop, and some laborers engaged to unload it. From the load itself came th=
e earthly smell. The bandage about the jaws was a silk handkerchief in whic=
h I had bound up my head, in default of my customary nightcap. The tortures=
endured, however, were indubitably quite equal for the time, to those of a=
ctual sepulture. They were fearfully -- they were inconceivably hideous; bu=
t out of Evil proceeded Good; for their very excess wrought in my spirit an=
inevitable revulsion. My soul acquired tone -- acquired temper. I went abr=
oad. I took vigorous exercise. I breathed the free air of Heaven. I thought=
upon other subjects than Death. I discarded my medical books. "Buchan=
" I burned. I read no "Night Thoughts" -- no fustian about c=
hurchyards -- no bugaboo tales -- such as this. In short, I became a new ma=
n, and lived a man's life. From that memorable night, I dismissed forever m=
y charnel apprehensions, and with them vanished the cataleptic disorder, of=
which, perhaps, they had been less the consequence than the cause. There a=
re moments when, even to the sober eye of Reason, the world of our sad Huma=
nity may assume the semblance of a Hell -- but the imagination of man is no=
Carathis, to explore with impunity its every cavern. Alas! the grim legion=
of sepulchral terrors cannot be regarded as altogether fanciful -- but, li=
ke the Demons in whose company Afrasiab made his voyage down the Oxus, they=
must sleep, or they will devour us -- they must be suffered to slumber, or=
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