Hermotimus, the hero of this ballad, was a philosopher, or rather a
prophet, of Clazomenæ, who possessed the faculty, now claimed by the
animal-magnetists, of effecting a voluntary separation between his soul
and body; for the former could wander to any part of the universe, and
even hold intercourse with supernatural beings, whilst the senseless
frame remained at home. Hermotimus, however, was not insensible to the
risk attendant upon this disunion; since, before attempting any of these
aerial flights, he took the precaution to warn his wife, lest, ere the
return of his soul, the body should be rendered an unfit or useless
receptacle. This accident, which he so much dreaded, at length occurred;
for the lady, wearied out by a succession of trances, each of longer
duration than the preceding, one day committed his body to the flames,
and thus effectually put a stop to such unconnubial conduct. He received
divine honours at Clazomenæ, but must nevertheless remain as a terrible
example and warning to all husbands who carry their scientific or
spiritual pursuits so far as to neglect their duty to their wives.
It is somewhat curious that Hermotimus is not the only person (putting
the disciples of Mesmer and Dupotet altogether out of the question) who
has possessed this miraculous power. Another and much later instance is
recorded by Dr. George Cheyne, in his work entitled, _The English
Malady, or a Treatise of Nervous Diseases_, as having come under his own
observation; and, as this case is exactly similar to that of the
Prophet, it may amuse the reader to see how far an ancient fable may be
illustrated, and in part explained, by the records of modern science.
Dr. Cheyne's patient was probably cataleptic; but the worthy physician
must be allowed to tell his own story.
"Colonel Townshend, a gentleman of honour and integrity, had for many
years been afflicted with a nephritic complaint. His illness increasing,
and his strength decaying, he came from Bristol to Bath in a litter, in
autumn, and lay at the Bell Inn. Dr. Baynard and I were called to him,
and attended him twice a-day; but his vomitings continuing still
incessant and obstinate against all remedies, we despaired of his
recovery. While he was in this condition, he sent for us one morning; we
waited on him with Mr. Skrine, his apothecary. We found his senses
clear, and his mind calm: his nurse and several servants were about him.
He told us he had sent for us to give him an account of an odd sensation
he had for some time observed and felt in himself; which was, that, by
composing himself, _he could die or expire when he pleased_; and yet by
an effort, or somehow, he could come to life again, which he had
sometimes tried before he had sent for us. We heard this with surprise;
but, as it was not to be accounted for upon common principles, we could
hardly believe the fact as he related it, much less give any account of
it; unless he should please to make the experiment before us, which we
were unwilling he should do, lest, in his weak condition, he might carry
it too far. He continued to talk very distinctly and sensibly above a
quarter of an hour about this surprising sensation, and insisted so much
on our seeing the trial made, that we were at last forced to comply. We
all three felt his pulse first--it was distinct, though small and
thready, and his heart had its usual beating. He composed himself on his
back, and lay in a still posture for some time: while I held his right
hand, Dr. Baynard laid his hand on his heart, and Mr. Skrine held a
clean looking-glass to his mouth. I found his pulse sink gradually, till
at last I could not find any by the most exact and nice touch. Dr.
Baynard could not feel the least motion in his heart, nor Mr. Skrine the
least soil of breath on the bright mirror he held to his mouth; then
each of us by turns examined his arm, heart, and breath, but could not,
by the nicest scrutiny, discover the least symptom of life in him. We
reasoned a long time about this odd appearance as well as we could, and
all of us judging it inexplicable and unaccountable; and, finding he
still continued in that condition, we began to conclude that he had
indeed carried the experiment too far; and at last were satisfied he was
actually dead, and were just ready to leave him. This continued about
half an hour. As we were going away, we observed some motion about the
body; and, upon examination, found his pulse and the motion of his heart
gradually returning. He began to breathe gently and speak softly. We
were all astonished to the last degree at this unexpected change; and,
after some further conversation with him, and among ourselves, went away
fully satisfied as to all the particulars of this fact, but confounded
and puzzled, and not able to form any rational scheme that might account
for it."