STATISTICS AND SUPERSTITIONS.

Waipa Post, Volume 32, Issue 1928, 30 October 1926, Page 4

STATISTICS AND SUPERSTITIONS.

As a repository of curious information the reports of the Government Statistician hold their own. It is, for example, astonishing what the Statistician can tell us about marriage. Most of us are aware that all days of the week are not considered equally auspicious for the tying of the matrimonial knot, but the Statistician can easily supply a chapter of facts and, figures on the subject. If anybody wants to know how many marriages took place on any day of last year’s three hundred and sixty-five he has only to turn to a certain page in this official’s report, and there the information blandly confronts him. It is most conclusively shown that the most popular day of the week for entering into the matrimonial state is Wednesday. Those who have been ignorant of this may henceforth, if they please, attach to Wednesday a netf glamour of romantic interest. Of the total marriages in New Zealand last year 43 per cent took place on a Wednesday. Tuesday came a poor second with 16 per cent. The inquirer’s suspicions concerning Friday will find most definite confirmation in the report. Friday is furthest removed, of all days in the week, in the minds of most people, from .that “ proper time to marry ” which the poet mentions. Only 4 per cent of last year’s marriages took place on a Friday. Sunday, be it said, is, for other reasons, on quite a different footing from other days of the week as regards marriage celebrations, and is little favoured. From statistcis concerning marriages to superstitions is a rather easy transition. Easter Monday is usually very high on tthe list in respect of calls by impatient couples upon the services of the clergy, but last year it was less popular than usual, the reason being that it fell on 13th April. Of all superstitions that which attaches ill-luck to the number thirteen probably crops up most frequently. To the respect that is paid to it instances are never lacking. It is a'matter in which the susceptibilities of others are not easily ignored. No host who gives thought to the appetite and digestion of his guests will ask them to sit down thirteen at a table. It is considered well to bo on the safe side and worth the modicum of extra trouble that is entailed. Even the expedient of bringing in an uninvited guest who has not a wedding garment may be deemed to furnish a happy escape from a little numerical difficulty. An illustration completely in point was provided in connection with a recent entertainment in Dunedin (remarks the Otago Daily Times). A home of superstition is, of course, the deep sea and its environs. The sailor or the fisherman who recks little of real dangers is perhaps of all men the readiest to desire to take precaution against imaginary perils. Till very recently, at all events, Friday was no fit day for any ship to leave port. On ship-board the minister of religion may be a welcome enough figure nowadays. There are now, of course, ships and ships. The advent of steam has made all the difference to maritime voyaging. The real deep-pea sailor of the old school has become a rarity. Time was, however, when' in vietiv of those before the mast the presence of a priest on board was readily associated with ill-luck and misfortune. ,jt has been shrewdly suggested that to mingle the Highlander and the deep-sea sailor is to be sure of a rich store of rules through which the simple and naturally religi- j ous mind pays respect to powers and I laws which it does not presume to

understand. And if these men, who meet nature at close quarters, bear themselves cautiously and humbly before the unknown, it is to them rather than to the scoffer that our sympathy leans. The feeling which prompts the survival of many superstitions at which we may outwardly smile lingers, after all, pretty widely in the human race. It will, our contemporary sagely observes, be time to laugh at the simpleness’ which may seem to lie at the back of many quaint beliefs and convictions when the door in the more expensive parts of London is numbered 12a because a householder is afraid to live at No. 13. To this train o$ reflections, prompted by the Statistician’s researchings, Montaigne supplies a concluding word. “ Me seemeth,” he wrote, “ I may well be excused if I rather accept an odd number than an even; Thursday in respect of Friday; if I had rather make a twelfth or a fourteenth at a table than a thirteenth. . . . All such fond conceits, now in credit about us, deserve at least to be listened to.”