and the terrible scenes enacted there by these _convulsionnaires_
excited so much attention that at last the king saw himself compelled to
put a stop to the proceedings. After a careful investigation of the
whole matter by men specially appointed for the purpose, the grounds
were guarded, access was prohibited, and the wags of Paris placed at the
entrance the following announcement:
"_Defense de par le Roy. Defense a Dieu,
De faire miracle en ce lieu!_"
Ireland had in the seventeenth century her Greatrakes, who, according to
unimpeachable testimony, cured nearly every disease known to man, by his
simple touch--and fervent prayer.
Valentine Greatrakes, of Waterford, in Ireland, had dreamt, in 1662,
that he possessed the gift to cure goitres by simple imposition of
hands, after the manner of the kings of England and of France. It was,
however, only when the dream was several times repeated that he heeded
it and tried his power on his wife. The success he met with in his first
effort encouraged him to attempt other cases also, and soon his fame
spread so far that he was sent for to come to London and perform some
cures at Whitehall. He was invariably successful, but had much to endure
from the sneers of the courtiers, as he insisted upon curing animals as
well as men. His cures were attested by men of high authority, such as
John Glanville, chaplain to Charles II., Bishop Rust, of Dromor, in
Ireland, several physicians of great eminence, and the famous Robert
Boyle, the president of the Royal Society. According to their uniform
testimony Greatrakes was a simple-hearted, pious man, as far from
imposture as from pretension, who firmly believed that God had entrusted
to him a special power, and succeeded in impressing others with the same
conviction. His method was extremely simple: he placed his hands upon
the affected part, or rubbed it gently for some time, whereupon the
pains, swellings, or ulcers which he wished to cure, first subsided and
then disappeared entirely. It is very remarkable that here also all
seemed to depend on the nature of the faith of the patient, for
according to the measure of faith held by the latter the cure would be
either almost instantaneous or less prompt, and in some cases requiring
several days and many interviews. He was frequently accused of
practising sorcery and witchcraft, but the doctors Faiselow and
Artetius, as well as Boyle, defended him with great energy, while
testifying to the reality of his cures.
One of the best authenticated, though isolated, cases of this class is
the recovery of a niece of Blaise Pascal, a girl eleven years old. She
was at boarding-school at the famous Port Royal and suffered of a
terrible fistula in the eye, which had caused her great pain for three
years and threatened to destroy the bones of her face. When her
physicians proposed to her to undergo a very painful operation by means
of a red-hot iron, some Jansenists suggested that she should first be
specially prayed for, while at the same time the affected place was
touched with a thorn reported to have formed part of the crown of thorns
of our Saviour. This was done, and on the following day the swelling and
inflammation had disappeared, and the eye recovered. The young girl was
officially examined by a commission consisting of the king's own
physician, Dr. Felix, and three distinguished surgeons; but they
reported that neither art nor nature had accomplished the cure and that
it was exclusively to be ascribed to the direct interposition of the
Almighty. The young lady lived for twenty-five years longer and never
had a return of her affection. Racine described the case at full length,
and so did Arnauld and Pascal, all affirming the genuineness of the
miraculous cure.
During the latter part of the last century a Father Gassner created a
very great sensation in Germany by means of his marvelous cures and
occasional exorcisms of evil spirits. He did not employ for the latter
purpose the usual ritual of the Catholic Church, but simple imposition
of hands and invocation of the Saviour. Nearly all the patients who were
brought to him he declared to be under the influence of evil spirits,
and divided them into three classes: _circumsessi_, who were only at
times attacked, _obsessi_, or bewitched, and _possessi_, who were really
possessed. When a sick person was brought to him, he first ordered the
evil spirit to show himself and to display all his powers; then he
prayed fervently and commanded the demon, in the name of the Saviour, to
leave his victim. A plain, unpretending man of nearly fifty years, he
appeared dressed in a red stole after the fashion prevailing at that
time in his native land, and wore a cross containing a particle of the
holy cross suspended from a silver chain around his neck. The patient
was placed before him so that the light from the nearest window fell
fully upon his features, and the bystanders, who always crowded the
room, could easily watch all the proceedings. Frequently, he would put
his stole upon the sufferers' head, seize their brow and neck with
outstretched hands, and holding them firmly, utter in a low voice a
fervent prayer. Then, after having given them his cross to kiss, if they
were Catholics, he dismissed them with some plain directions as to
treatment and an earnest admonition to remain steadfast in faith.
Probably the most trustworthy account of this remarkable man and his
truly miraculous cures was published by a learned and eminent
physician, a Dr. Schisel, who called upon the priest with the open
avowal that he came as a skeptic, to watch his proceedings and examine
his method. He became so well convinced of Father Gassner's powers that
he placed himself in his hands as a patient, was cured of gout in an
aggravated form, and excited the utmost indignation of his professional
brethren by candidly avowing his conviction of the sincerity of the
priest and the genuineness of his cures.
There was, however, one circumstance connected with the exceptional
power of this priest, which was even more striking than his cures. His
will was so marvelously energetic and his control over weaker minds so
perfect that he could at pleasure cause the pulse of his patients to
slacken or to hasten, to make them laugh or cry, sleep or wake, to see
visions, and even to have epileptic attacks. As may be expected, the
majority of his visitors were women and children, but these were
literally helpless instruments in his hands. They not only moved and
acted, but even felt and thought as he bade them do, and in many cases
they were enabled to speak languages while under his influence of which
they were ignorant before and after. At Ratisbon a committee consisting
of two physicians and two priests was directed to examine the priest and
his cures; a professor of anatomy carefully watched the pulse and the
nerves of the patients which were selected at haphazard, and all
confirmed the statements made before; while three other professors, who
had volunteered to aid in the investigation, concurred with him in the
conviction that there was neither collusion nor imposition to be
suspected. The priest, who employed no other means but prayer and the
invocation of God by the patients, was declared to be acting in good
faith, from pure motives, and for the best purposes; his cures were
considered genuine. There was, however, in Father Gassner's case also an
admixture of objectionable elements which must not be overlooked. The
desire for notoriety, which enters largely into all such displays of
extraordinary powers, led many persons who were perfectly sound to
pretend illness, merely for the purpose of becoming, when cured, objects
of public wonder. On the other hand, the good father himself was, no
doubt, by his own unexpected success, led to go farther than he would
otherwise have done in his simplicity and candor. He formed a complete
theory of his own to explain the miracles. According to his view the
first cause of all such diseases as had their origin in "possession,"
were the "principalities, powers, rulers of the darkness of this world,
and spiritual wickedness in high places," which the apostle mentions as
enemies more formidable than "flesh and blood." (Ephes. vi. 12.) These,
he believed, dwelt in the air, and by disturbing the atmosphere with
evil intent, produced illness in the system and delusions in the mind.
If a number combined, and with the permission of the Almighty poisoned
the air to a large extent, contagious diseases followed as a natural
consequence. Against these demons or "wiles of the devil" (Ephes. vi.
11), he employed the only means sanctioned by Holy Writ--fervent prayer,
and this, of course, could have no effect unless the patient fully
shared his faith. This faith, again, he was enabled to awaken and to
strengthen by the supreme energy of his will, but of course not in all
cases; where his prayer failed to have the desired effect he ascribed
the disease to a direct dispensation from on high, and not to the agency
of evil spirits, or he declared the patient to be wanting in faith. In
like manner he explained relapses as the effects of waning faith. The
startling phenomena, however, which he thought it necessary to call
forth in his patients, before he attempted their restoration, belong to
what must be called the magic of our day. For these symptoms bore no
relation to the affection under which they suffered. Persons afflicted
with sore wounds, stiffened limbs, or sightless eyes, would, at his
bidding, fall into frightful paroxysms, during which the breathing
intermitted, the nose became pointed, the eyes insensible to the touch,
and the whole body rigid and livid. And yet, when the paroxysm ceased at
his word, the patient felt no evil effects, not even fatigue, and all
that had happened was generally instantly forgotten. The case created an
immense sensation throughout Europe, and the great men of his age took
part for or against the poor priest, who was sadly persecuted, and only
now and then found a really able advocate, such as Lavater. The
heaviest penalty he had to bear was the condemnation of his own Church,
which accompanied an order issued by the Emperor Joseph II.,
peremptorily forbidding all further attempts. The pope, Pius VII., who
had directed the whole subject to be examined by the well-known
_Congregatio SS. Rituum_, declared in 1777, upon their report, that the
priest's proceedings were heretical and not any longer to be permitted,
and ordered the bishop, under whose jurisdiction he lived, to prevent
any further exercise of his pretended power. All these decrees of papal
councils and these orders of imperial officials could, however, not undo
what the poor priest had already accomplished, and history has taught us
the relative value of investigations held by biased priests, and those
carried out by men of science. We may well doubt the judgment of an
authority which once condemned a Galileo, and even now denounces the
press as a curse; but we have no right to suspect the opinion of men
who, as physicians and scientists, are naturally disposed to reject all
claims of supernatural or even exceptional powers.
In more recent times a Prince Hohenlohe in Germany claimed to have
performed a number of miraculous cures, beginning with a Princess
Schwarzenberg, whom he commanded "in the name of Christ to be well
again." Many of his patients, however, were only cured for the moment;
when their faith, excited to the utmost, cooled down again, their
infirmities returned; still there remain facts enough in his life to
establish the marvelous power of his strong will, when brought to bear
upon peculiarly receptive imaginations, and aided by earnest prayer.
(Kies., _Archiv._ IX. ii: 311.)
Sporadic cases of similar powers have of late shown themselves in Paris,
in the interior of Russia, and in Ravenna, but the evidence upon which
the statements in public journals are made is so clearly unreliable that
no important result can be hoped for from their investigation. The
present is hardly an age of faith, and enough has surely been said to
prove that without very great and sincere faith miraculous cures cannot
be performed.
X.
MYSTICISM.
"Credo quia absurdum est."
--TERTULLIAN.
One of the most remarkable classes of magic phenomena, which combines
almost all other known features of trances with the peculiar kind called
stigmatization, is known as Mysticism in the more limited sense of that
word. It bears this name mainly because it designates attempts made to
unite in close communion humanity with divinity, and however imperfect
the success of all these efforts may be, on the whole, it cannot be
denied that in individual cases very startling results have been
obtained. In order to attain their lofty aim, the mystics require an
utter deadening of all human affections and all natural impulses, and a
thorough change of their usual thoughts and feelings. Above all, the
lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of the heart are
to be killed by pain; hence the mystics are quite content to suffer,
chastise the body, deny themselves the simplest enjoyments, and rejoice
in the actual infliction of wounds and mutilations. In return for this
complete deadening of human affections they are filled with an ineffable
love of the divine Saviour, the Bridegroom, and the Holy Virgin, the
Bride, or even of purely abstract, impalpable beings. They enjoy great
inner comforts, and a sense of happiness and peace which transcends all
description. Whatever may, however, have been the direct cause of their
ecstatic condition, disease, asceticism, self-inflicted torments, or
long-continued fervent prayer, this highest bliss is accorded to them
only during the time of trance. Unfortunately this period of happiness
is not only painfully short, but also invariably followed by a powerful
reaction; according to the laws of our nature, supreme excitement must
needs always subside into profound exhaustion, ecstatic bliss into
heartrending despondency, and bright visions of heaven into despairing
views of unpardonable sins and a hopeless future. Hence the fearful
doctrines of the mystics of all ages, which prescribe continuous
self-denial as the only way to reach God, who as yet is not to be found
in the outward world, but only in the inner consciousness of the
believer. If the sinner dare not hope to approach the Holy One, the
repentant believer also is in unceasing danger of losing again what he
has gained by fearful sacrifices. The union between him and his God must
not only be close, but uninterrupted, a doctrine which has led to the
great favor bestowed by mystics upon images derived from earthly love:
to them God is forever the bridegroom, the soul the bride, and the union
between them the true marriage of the faithful. By such training,
skillfully and perseveringly pursued, many persons, especially women,
have succeeded in so completely deadening all physical functions of
their body as to reduce their life, literally, to the mere operations of
sensation and vision. The sufferings produced by these efforts to
suppress all natural vitality, to kill, as it were, the living body,
rendering the senses inactive, while still in the full vigor of their
natural condition, are often not only painful, but actually appalling. A
poor woman, famous for her asceticism and her supernatural visions,
Maria of Agreda, was never able to attend to her devotions in the dark,
without enduring actual agony. Her spiritual light would suddenly become
extinguished, fearful horrors fell upon her soul and caused her
unspeakable anguish, terrible images as of wild beasts and fierce demons
surrounded her, the air was filled with curses and unbearable
blasphemies, and even her body was seized with wild, convulsive
movements and violent spasms. No wonder, therefore, that numbers of
these mystics have lost their reason, and others have fallen victims to
terrible diseases. On the other hand, it cannot be denied that many also
have been eminent examples of self-denial and matchless devotion, or
genuine heroes in combating for their sacred faith and the love of their
brethren. Their very errors were so attractive that the fundamental
mistake was forgotten, and all felt how little, men who act upon mere
ordinary motives, are able to rise to the same height of self-sacrifice.
Nor must it be forgotten, in judging especially the mystics of our days,
that their sincerity can never be doubted: they have always acted, and
still act upon genuine conviction, and in the firm belief that their
work is meritorious, not in the eyes of men, but before the Almighty.
The ascetics of former ages are not so easily understood; they were men
who proposed not only to limit the amenities of life, but to make our
whole earthly existence subservient to purely divine purposes; and thus,
for instance, Francis of Assisi, prescribed absolute poverty as the rule
of his order. The principal magic phenomena accompanying religious
ecstasy are the insensibility of the body to all, even the most violent
injuries, and the perception of matters beyond the reach of our senses
in healthy life. Rigid and long-continued fasting, reduced sleep on a
hard couch, and an utter abstinence from all other thoughts or
sentiments but such as connect themselves directly with a higher life,
never fail to produce the desired effect. By such means the whole nature
of man is finally changed; not only in the legitimate relations existing
between body and mind, but also in those which connect man with nature;
the changes are, therefore, as much physiological as psychical. They
result at last in the acquisition of a power which in the eyes of the
mystics is identical with that promised in Mark xvi. 18. "They shall
take up serpents, and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt
them." Extraordinary as the accounts of the sufferings and the
exceptional powers of mystics appear to us, they are in many instances
too well authenticated to allow any serious doubt. Thus a famous
ascetic, Rosa of Lima, was actually injured by healthy food, but on many
occasions instantaneously strengthened by a mere mouthful of bread
dipped into pure water; Bernard of Clairvaux lived for a considerable
time on beech-leaves boiled in water, and Maria of Oignys once subsisted
for thirty-five days on the holy wafer of the sacrament, which she took
daily. Mystics who, like the latter, derived bodily sustenance as well
as spiritual comfort from the Eucharist, are frequently mentioned in the
annals of the Church. Others, again, succeeded by constant and extreme
excitement to heat their blood to such an extent that they became
insensible to outward cold, even when the frosts of winter became
intolerable to others. The heart itself seems to be affected by such
extreme elation; in Catherine of Siena its violent palpitations and
convulsive jerkings could be both seen and felt, when she was in a state
of ecstasis, and the heart of Filippo Neri was found, after death, to
have been considerably enlarged, and actually to have broken two ribs by
its convulsive spasms.
Among the rarer but equally well-established magic phenomena of this
class must be counted the temporary suspension of the law of gravity.
Like the Brahmins of India, who have long possessed the power of raising
themselves unaided from the ground and of remaining suspended in the
air, Christian mystics also have been seen, more than once, to hang as
it were unsupported high above the ground. They quote, in support of
their faith in such exceptional powers, the fact that Habakkuk also was
seized by an angel and carried away through the air, while even the
Saviour was taken by the devil to an exceeding high mountain on the top
of the temple, cases in which the laws of gravity must have been
similarly suspended.
A large number of holy men, among whom were Filippo Neri, Ignatius
Loyola, and the founder of the order of Dominicans, remained thus
suspended in the air for hours and days; one of them, the Carmelite monk
P. Dominicus, in the presence of the king and queen of Spain and their
whole court. (Calmet, p. 153.) There are even cases known in which this
raising of the body has happened to pious persons against their own
desire and to their great and sincere distress, as it attracted public
attention in a most painful degree. To this class of phenomena belongs
also the luminous appearance which seems at times to accompany a high
state of religious excitement. This was already the case with Moses, who
"wist not that the skin of his face shone," and probably of Stephen
also, when those "that sat in council, looking steadfastly on him, saw
his face as it had been the face of an angel."
The most startling of these phenomena, however, are those known as
stigmatization, when the combined power of fervent, exalted faith and an
over-excited imagination produces actual marks of injuries on the body,
although no such injuries have ever been inflicted. The annals of the
Church abound with instances of women especially who, after long
meditation on the nature and the merits of crucifixion have borne the
marks of nails in hands and feet, an effect which the science of
medicine also admits as possible, inasmuch as similar results are of not
unfrequent occurrence, at least in newborn infants, whose bodies are
marked in consequence of events which had recently made a peculiarly
deep impression upon the mothers.
Unfortunately mysticism also has not been able to keep its votaries free
from an admixture of imposture. False miracles are known to have
occurred within the Church as well as without it, and credulity has
accepted many a statement that could not have stood the simplest
investigation. It becomes the careful student, therefore, here also to
distinguish with the utmost caution genuine and well-authenticated facts
from reckless or willfully false statements. Even then, however, he
ought not to forget the words of Pascal, who, in speaking of the
apostles said: "I am quite willing to believe stories for whose
truthfulness the witnesses have suffered death." It is even by no means
improbable that the spiritual world may have its changing productions as
well as the material world, and as the organisms of the Silurian period
are impossible in our day, so-called magic results may have been
obtained by certain former generations which lie beyond the power of our
own. No one can with certainty determine, in this direction, what is
possible and what is impossible; the power of man is emphatically a
relative one, and each exploit must, in fairness, be judged with a view
to all the accompanying circumstances. It is as impossible for the men
of our day to erect pyramids such as the old Egyptians built, as it is
for an individual in good health to perform feats of strength of which
he may be capable under the influence of high fever or violent
paroxysms.