CHAPTER XVIII.

RELIGIOUS MONOMANIA.

I had no sooner been removed to my own house, than my old acquaintances

and friends came to see me. Mr. Cotton, the stern but well-meaning old

Puritan, who had infinitely more mind and heart than Young America, that

has learned to laugh at him, had indeed died during my absence abroad.

Mr. Winslow and the others whom I have already introduced, remained.

Poor Jack had recovered, not his former gayety, but his health and

tranquillity, and was entirely freed from the vision which had haunted

him, and which I have no reason to believe was any thing more than a

simple hallucination, occasioned by a powerful shock to his nerves,

producing a diseased state of the imagination. He had returned to

Boston, given up mesmerism, confined himself to the law, and had

prospered in his profession. When he heard of the accident which had

befallen me, he came immediately to see me, and to render me such

assistance as his warm heart prompted. He is still my chief nurse, and

declares that he will not leave me as long as my life lasts. I have

remembered him in my will, and bequeathed him the bulk of my estate,

though he knows it not,—a poor compensation for the blight I brought

upon his early hopes.

Mr. Merton, returning to the city about the time of my being wounded,

lost no time, after my removal to my own house, in renewing our former

acquaintance. Mr. Winslow, and Mr. Sowerby, and Leila and her admirer,

who had become husband and wife, and a sober and sensible couple, were

frequently in the sick man’s room. Nobody deserted me; and never in my

life have I had occasion to complain of ingratitude, or the loss of a

friend. The world is bad enough, but after all not so bad as sometimes

represented. I have always been treated infinitely better than my

deserts; and I have found good sense, warm hearts, and noble virtues,

where least I expected them. I have reproaches only for myself. I have

done a world of wrong, and no good; and yet I have found myself, from my

childhood, surrounded by generous and disinterested affection. People,

speaking generally, are far better individually than they are

collectively; and many private virtues may be found, even in bands of

revolutionists, robbers, and assassins,—virtues which do not rise above

the natural order indeed, and have no promise of reward in heaven, but

which nevertheless are virtues. My observation has taught me to distrust

the censorious, those who rail in good set terms at all mankind or

womankind, although no man living was ever further than I am from

believing in the sinlessness of the race, or from joining in the modern

worship of woman, prompted too often by an innate pruriency unconscious

of itself.

As I became able to bear conversation, and to take part in it

occasionally, mesmerism and the Spirit-Manifestations were a frequent

topic of discourse. Jack sturdily maintained that it was all humbug.

There were indeed strange things, some phenomena which he could not

explain, but he set his face against the whole movement, had no belief

in it, and would have nothing to do with it. There was, though he might

be unable to detect it, some cheat or trickery at the bottom.

Mr. Winslow held fast to his belief in the connection between mesmerism

and all the marvellous, prodigious, or miraculous facts recorded in

history. He accepted those facts substantially as related, but did not

accept their usual explanation. The miracles of sacred history, and the

marvellous facts of profane history, were to be explained on natural

principles, by the mesmeric agent, or by whatever other name we might

call it.

Mr. Merton argued that, if the phenomena usually called Satanic,

obsession, possession, witchcraft, black magic, ghosts or apparitions,

clairvoyance and second sight, could be explained without resort to the

supernatural, the other class of facts, the miracles of sacred history,

could be also explained without the supposition of the special

intervention of Divine power. He thought, if we could account for the

former without Satan, we could for the latter without the supernatural

intervention of God.

Mr. Sowerby held with Mr. Winslow as to the reality of the phenomena,

and their natural explanation, but thought they should be divided into

two classes, one good and the other bad, as produced for a good or a bad

purpose. When produced in a good cause, for a good end, they might be

called Divine; when in a bad cause, for a bad purpose, they might be

called Satanic or diabolical. The agent is in both cases the same, and

the difference is in the mind or will that employs it.

Dr. Corning, my physician, who was a distinguished manigraph, and had

written a work, highly esteemed by the profession, on Insanity, was

quite ready to concede the phenomena called spiritual, or rather

demoniacal, and thought we were bound to do so, or to give up all human

testimony. He also conceded the connection contended for by mesmerists

between mesmerism and so-called demonic phenomena,—a connection, in his

judgment, very evident, and wholly undeniable; but he contended, with

the most eminent manigraphs of France, and indeed with the members of

the profession generally, that the marvellous phenomena recorded were

those of mania, monomania, theosophania, nymphomania, demonopathy, and

all to be explained pathologically. He included them all under the

general head of insanity, and regarded their variety only as so many

different sorts of madness. He had himself witnessed the greater part of

them in his practice, and treated them as symptoms of mania.

“That,” said Mr. Merton, “would be very satisfactory, if the limits of

madness or insanity were well defined, and if physicians could never

mistake, and treat as insane one who is only possessed or obsessed by

the devil. To include the marvellous facts of history under the head of

insanity, without having first established their pathological character,

and settled it that there is no generic or specific difference between

them and acknowledged pathological symptoms, is not to explain them. How

do you prove that a person, otherwise in perfect health, with no

disturbance of the pulse, of the digestive, or any other organs to be

detected, who on all subjects speaks rationally, but who tells you that

a spirit has possession of him, speaks through his organs, throws him

down, and otherwise maltreats him, is insane? I do not say that such a

man is not insane, but how do you prove him insane?

“Why, he exhibits the symptoms of insanity, for none but an insane man

would utter such nonsense.”

“Perhaps so, and perhaps not so. He exhibits symptoms of what you are

pleased to _call_ insanity; but how do you know that you have not called

insanity what you ought to call by another name, possession, for

instance?”

“I do not believe in possession.”

“Precisely, and therefore when you meet what is called possession or

obsession, you call it insanity. That is a convenient way of reasoning,

and not uncommon with learned physicians and physicists; but it is a

begging of the question, not its solution. You reason from a foregone

conclusion. As you yourself and all the profession treat insanity as a

disease, as symptomatic of some lesion or alteration of the physical

system, or of the organs on which the manifestations of the mind depend,

I should suppose it necessary to establish the fact of such lesion or

alteration, before concluding the presence of actual insanity.”

“Insanity, in such case, would be found to be very rare.”

“Very possibly, and perhaps it is much rarer than is commonly supposed.

It is not impossible that a large proportion of those you call insane,

and treat as lunatics, are as sound of body or mind as you or I. Where

we find, physically considered, all the symptoms of health, we cannot,

from purely mental phenomena, infer disease. That the vulgar have often

regarded as under the influence of Satan persons who were merely

epileptic, cataleptic, or insane, is no doubt very true; but it is not

impossible that the learned and scientific have committed not

unfrequently a contrary mistake, and regarded as insane, cataleptics, or

epileptics, persons who were totally free from all pathological

symptoms. How will you, dear Doctor, explain by insanity a case taken

from a thousand similar ones, which I chanced to be reading this

morning, and which is well attested. Allow me to relate it as given by

Dr. Calmeil, one of your own profession, a learned and highly esteemed

manigraph, author of a work, _De la Folie_,[4] and who entertains the

same views that you do. Missionaries who now, says M. Calmeil,[5] cross

the seas to shed the light of faith in the New World, are frequently

surprised to meet energumenes among their neophytes, whilst they

acknowledge that it is seldom that the devil takes possession of the

faithful in the mother country. The letter which I am about to report,

addressed to Winslow, a celebrated physician, in 1738, by a _worthy_

missionary, proves that the delirium of demonopathy may everywhere

become the lot of feeble and timorous souls.

-----

Footnote 4:

Paris, Chez Balliere, 1845. 2 vol. gr. in-8vo.

Footnote 5:

T. 2, p. 417.

-----

“I cannot refuse, at your earnest request,” writes the missionary

Lecour, to write you a detailed account of what took place in the case

of the Cochin-chinese who was possessed, and of whom I had the honor to

speak to you. In May or June, 1733, being in the province of Cham, in

the kingdom of Cochin China, in the church of a burgh called Cheta,

about half a league distant from the capital of the province, there was

brought to me a young man from eighteen to nineteen years of age, and

who was a Christian. His parents told me that he was possessed by a

demon. A little incredulous, I might say to my confusion, quite too much

so, in consequence of my little experience at that time in such things,

of which I had never seen an example, although I had often heard other

Christians speak of them, I examined them to ascertain if there were not

simplicity or malice in their statement. The substance of what was

gathered from them was, that the young man had made an unworthy

communion, and after that had disappeared from the village, had retired

to the mountains, and called himself only the traitor Judas.”

“On this statement, and after some difficulties,” resumes the

missionary, “I went to the hospital where the young man was detained,

fully resolved to believe nothing, unless I saw marks of something

superhuman. I began by questioning him in Latin, a language of which I

knew he had not the least tincture. Extended as he was on the ground,

frothing at his mouth, and violently shaken, he rose immediately on his

seat, and answered me very distinctly, _Ego nescio loqui latine_. I was

so astonished and frightened that I withdrew, with no courage to

question him any further....

“However, some days after, I recommenced with some probationary

commands, taking care to speak always in Latin, of which the young man

was ignorant. Among other commands, I ordered the demon to throw him

forthwith upon the floor. I was instantly obeyed, but he was thrown down

with so much violence, all his limbs being stretched out and rigid as a

crowbar, that the noise was rather that of a falling beam than of a man.

Wearied and exhausted, I thought I would follow the example of the

Bishop of Tilopolis on a similar occasion. In the exorcism, I commanded

the demon, in Latin, to bear him to the ceiling of the church, feet up

and head down. Forthwith his body became stiff, he was drawn into the

church to a column, his feet joined together, his back set against the

column, and, without the aid of his hands, he was run up to the ceiling

in a twinkling, as if drawn up by a pulley, without any act or motion of

his own, suspended with his feet glued to the ceiling, and his head

hanging downwards. I made the demon confess, as I intended to confound

and humble him, and to compel him to quit his hold, the falsity of the

pagan religion. I made him confess that he was a deceiver, and at the

same time compelled him to acknowledge the sanctity of our religion. I

held him suspended in the air, his feet adhering to the ceiling and his

head down, for more than half an hour, but not having sufficient

constancy, so much was I frightened at what I saw, to continue him there

for a longer time, I ordered the demon to place him at my feet without

harming him. He forthwith cast him down, as a bundle of dirty linen, but

without his receiving the least injury. From that day the young man,

though not entirely delivered, was much relieved, and his vexations

daily diminished, especially when I was in the house, and after about

five months he was wholly released, and is now perhaps the best

Christian in Cochin China.”

“Pass over the effect of the exorcism, if you please,” resumed Mr.

Merton, “and tell me what you think, Doctor, of the facts in this case,

which Dr. Calmeil concedes, and which, if he did not, it would not

amount to any thing, for this is only one case out of a thousand.”

“I will say,” replied the Doctor, “with M. Calmeil, that I am very much

obliged to the good missionary for not withholding his account, for he

has described, without knowing it, the phenomena of religious

monomania.”

“It strikes me,” replied Mr. Merton, “that Dr. Corning has not well

examined the case. That some of the phenomena may be regarded as

symptoms of insanity, I do not question, but if I understand insanity,

it is a derangement, an access of what properly belongs to one in his

normal state, but not the accession of something preternatural. It may,

in some respects, sharpen the senses, revive the memory, and render the

faculties, or at least some of them, morbidly active; but I have never

understood that it could enable a man to understand and speak a language

which he had never learned, and of which, in the full possession of all

his faculties, he knew not a word. I can easily understand that in

delirium a man may fancy that he is possessed, and act on the conviction

that he is, but I do not understand how delirium alone can enable a man,

however agile, to climb to the ceiling of a church, his back against a

column, with his feet fastened together, and without using his hands or

arms, and to remain by the simple application of his feet to the ceiling

for one half an hour with his head down, carrying on all the time a

close controversy in this very inconvenient position, and finally

dropping upon the pavement without the least injury. Such a delirium

would, to say the least, be very extraordinary, and I suspect the Doctor

has never found a similar delirium amongst any of his numerous patients

who were unquestionably insane. I will venture to say that however

striking the delirium, the thing is absolutely impossible without

superhuman aid.”

“Part of it is hallucination,” replied the Doctor.

“Whose hallucination? The young man’s, or the missionary’s?” asked Mr.

Merton. “Not the missionary’s, for there is no pretence that he was

insane; and not the young man’s, because the question turns not on what

he saw, or fancied, or imagined, but on what another person, the

missionary, saw.”

“Probably the facts are much exaggerated,” replied Dr. Corning. “The

missionary confesses that he was greatly frightened, and being so, he

may, without impeachment of his honesty, have failed to be strictly

accurate as to the details.”

“Then you question the relation. That alters the case. Let us take,

then, the case, also well attested, of the nuns of Uvertet, which, about

1550, caused for a long time so much astonishment in Brandenburg,

Holland, Italy, and especially in Germany. The nuns were at first

awakened and startled by plaintive moanings.... Sometimes they were

dragged from their beds, and along the floor, as if drawn by their

legs.... Their arms and lower extremities were twisted in every

direction.... Sometimes they bounded in the air and fell with violence

upon the ground.... In moments in which they appeared to enjoy a perfect

calm, they would suddenly fall backwards and be deprived of speech....

Some of them, on the contrary, would amuse themselves in climbing to the

tops of trees, when they would descend, their feet in the air and their

heads down. These attacks began to lose their violence after a duration

of three years. A very singular madness this, which, as the

_Dictionnaire des Sciences Médicales_ says, ‘extended over _all_ the

convents of women in Germany, particularly in Saxony and Brandenburg,

and gained even Holland,’ and it might have added, also, Italy. ‘All the

miracles,’ it continues, ‘of the Convulsionaires, or of Animal

Magnetism, were familiar to these nonnains, who were regarded as

possessed. They all foretold future events, leaped and capered, ran up

the sides of walls, spoke foreign languages, &c.’ You may read the

fourteen well authenticated cases recorded by Cotton Mather in his

Magnalia, and you will find that all these, and similar phenomena, were

exhibited by the bewitched or possessed in Massachusetts near the close

of the seventeenth century, and known under the name of ‘Salem

witchcraft,’ though only a portion of them occurred in that famous town.

Do you include all these under the head of insanity?”

“Cotton Mather was a pedant, vain, arrogant, and ambitious of power, and

I did not expect to hear him cited as an authority,” replied the Doctor,

in evident vexation.

“Cotton Mather,” Mr. Merton replied, “was one of the most learned and

distinguished men in New England in his time, and, though I am of

another parish, I respect his memory. I do not cite his opinions; I

merely cite him as the recorder of facts which either he himself had

witnessed with his own eyes, or which had been confessed or proved

before the courts of the colony, and thus far at least his authority is

sufficient. But I will ask you to explain on your hypothesis the

phenomena exhibited by the Ursuline Nuns of Loudun, France, in the

seventeenth century, and the authenticity of which both Bertrand and

Calmeil, as well as others, admit were triumphantly vindicated.”

“I know the case to which you refer,” answered Dr. Corning. “It is the

case of a certain number of nuns who took it into their heads that they

were bewitched by one Urban Grandier, whom they had refused to accept as

their director,—a man of a scandalous life, a great criminal, who

deserved to be executed as he was, if not for sorcery, at least for his

crimes. I see nothing in this case but the usual symptoms of

demonopathy, or religious monomania.”

“The physicians of the time thought differently, and there were then and

there physicians of great eminence who were consulted, and required to

make to the authorities twenty-five or thirty elaborate reports on the

case. But let us recall some of the facts.

“Shortly after, Grandier, a bad priest, was refused by these ladies as

their director; he passed by the convent, and threw a bouquet of flowers

over the wall, which was taken up and smelt of by several of the nuns.

From that moment the disorder commenced. Up to that moment all these

ladies were in the enjoyment of the most perfect health, and strictly

correct in their deportment. They were all connected with families of

distinction and of high birth, and had been carefully brought up, and

yielded to none in their education, their intelligence, their piety,

their virtues, and their accomplishments.

“After some weeks of silence, in which they had sought relief from their

vexations by religious exercises, prayers, fasts, and macerations,

without avail, recourse was had to exorcism. The phenomena then assumed

gigantic proportions. One religious, lying stretched out on her belly,

and her arms twisted over her back, defied the priest who pursued her

with the Holy Sacrament; another doubled over backwards, contrived to

walk with the nape of her neck resting on her heels; another still,

shook her head in the most singular and violent manner. The exorcist

says he had _frequently_ seen them bent over backwards, with the nape of

their neck resting on their heels, walk with surprising swiftness. He

saw one of them, rising from that posture, strike rapidly her shoulders

and breast with her head. They cried out as the howlings of the damned,

as enraged wolves, as terrible beasts, with a force that exceeds the

power of imagination. Their tongues hung out black, swollen, dry, and

hard, and became soft and natural the moment they were drawn back into

the mouth.

“During the intervals of repose, the afflicted ladies sought to return

to their religious exercises, to resume their industry and the

deportment proper to their rank and their state. But on the arrival of

the exorcist nothing was any longer heard but blasphemies and

imprecations. Then the nuns would rise, pass their feet over their

heads, throw their legs apart, with entire forgetfulness of modesty.

Then came what Dr. Calmeil calls hallucinations, which made them

attribute their state to the presence and obsession of evil spirits. The

Abbess, Madame Belfiel, while replying to the questions of the exorcist,

heard a living being speaking in her own body, as it were a foreign

voice emanating from her pharynx. They all heard a voice distinctly

articulated, proceeding from within them, stating that evil angels had

taken possession of their person, and indicating the names, the number,

and the residences of the demons.

“In the month of August, 1635, Gaston, Duke of Orleans, brother of Louis

the Thirteenth, wishing to judge for himself of the state of the

Ursulines, went to Loudun, and was present at several sessions of the

exorcists. The Superioress at first worshipped the Holy Sacrament,

giving all the signs of a violent despair. The Abbé Surin, the exorcist,

repeated the command he had given her, and forthwith her body was thrown

into convulsions, running out a tongue horribly deformed, black, and

granulated as morocco, and without being pressed at all by the teeth.

Among other postures they remarked an extension of the legs, so great

that there were seven feet from one foot to the other. The Superioress

remained in this position a very long time, with strange trembling,

touching the ground only with her belly. Having risen from this

position, the demon was commanded again to approach the Holy Sacrament,

when she became more furious than ever, biting her arms, &c. Then, after

a little time, the agitation ceased, and she returned to herself, with

her pulse as tranquil as if nothing extraordinary had happened.

“The Abbé Surin himself, while he was speaking to the Duke, and about to

make the exorcism, was attacked and twice thrown upon his back, and when

he had risen and proceeded anew to the combat, Père Tranquille demanded

of the supposed demon wherefore he had dared attack Père Surin. He

answered with the organs of the latter, and as if addressing him: ‘I

have done so to avenge myself on you.’ Was the Abbé Surin insane? or did

he simulate delirium?

“The Superioress, at the end of the exorcism, executed an order which

the Duke had just communicated secretly to the exorcist. In a hundred

instances it appeared that the energumenes read the thoughts of the

priest charged with the exorcism. They answered in whatever language

they were addressed, in Greek, Latin, Spanish, Italian, and Turkish.

They even answered M. de Launay de Razelly in the dialects of several

tribes of American savages, very pertinently, and revealed to him things

that had passed in America. Urban Grandier, when commanded by his bishop

to take the stole and exorcise the Mother Superior, who he said knew

Latin, refused, although challenged to do it, to question her in Greek,

and remained quite confused. Also, the Mother Superior remained for some

considerable time suspended in the air, at an elevation of about two

feet above the ground. In about three months of exorcism the trouble

ceased, and the Ursulines were restored, and resumed in peace their

pious exercises and their usual labors.”

“I see no reason to change my opinion,” remarked the Doctor, at the

conclusion of this recital. “It was a case of monomania, if the facts

were as stated.”

“The facts,” replied Mr. Merton, “are unquestionable. They have all the

authenticity that facts can have, and there is not the least ground for

suspecting the good faith of the parties. They were all in perfect

health, with no symptoms of any disease about them. Now, as insanity, of

whatever variety, cannot render a man more than human, I demand, if

these facts can all be brought within the humanly possible? Does

insanity enable one to assume such difficult postures as are described?

Does it enable one to bend over backwards and walk rapidly with the nape

of the neck resting on his heels; to have the extraordinary extension of

legs mentioned; to read the thoughts of others not expressed; to tell

what is passing fifteen hundred leagues off; to understand and speak

languages never learned or before heard; and to remain for some time

suspended unsupported in the air? And, above all, is insanity or madness

cured by exorcisms? No, no, Doctor. The facts in the case, that is, if

you take not one or two, but _all_ of them, are certainly inexplicable

without the presence of a superhuman power.”

The Doctor was not at all pleased with this conclusion, which he would

by no means admit. He said the conversation, if continued, might injure

his patient, and giving me a few directions, took his hat and cane and

departed, apparently in a very unpleasant humor, and muttering something

about superstition, Salem witchcraft, and the absurdity of educated men

in the nineteenth century believing in such nonsense.

The spirit-rapper; an autobiography · 第 18 / 26 章