The term "incubation" in its rigid sense applies to the act of hatching
eggs, either naturally or artificially. It has however been adopted by
physicians to denote that state of predisposition to disease, in which the
germ of the malady lurks, latent and unperceived by the inexperienced
observer. Too frequently the individual who is thus menaced is totally
unaware of his condition. So far from being depressed in spirits, his
hopes are more sanguine, and his future projects more industriously formed
than usual. At other times, on the contrary, he labours under a load of
despondency which he cannot explain, and his gloom seems to anticipate his
end. This presentiment has oftentimes been singularly prophetic. Moreau de
St. Remy relates the case of one of his most intimate friends, who visited
him, saying, "I come to die near you." He was apparently in perfect
health, but the prediction too soon proved true.
It is no doubt probable, that in these cases the influence of the mind
labouring under these fatal impressions brings about, by its all-powerful
sympathetic power on our functions, the expected yet dreaded event.
Incubation is observed in many contagious affections; and in hydrophobia
its duration is amazing, this dreadful malady developing itself years
after the original accident. In mental diseases, aberrations of the
intellectual faculties are noticed long before the patient can be
pronounced insane; oddities, as they are called, are frequently the
precursors of mania.
The ancient Greeks and Egyptians use the term "incubation" in another
sense. With them it expressed the religious ceremony of sleeping in the
temples of the gods, to be inspired with the means of relieving their
sufferings. Nothing can express this superstitious rite more forcibly than
the following letter from Aspasia to Pericles, recorded by one of the
scholiasts of Aelian.
"Aspasia to Pericles, greeting. Podalirius! Podalirius, to whom Love
taught the art of healing, and who in return didst consecrate thine art to
Love, I return thee my thanks. Athens will once more see me beauteous! I
shall have lost none of my attractions, and Pericles shall find in his
Aspasia all that he once held dear! Podalirius, I return thee my thanks;
and thou, Pericles, be grateful to my benefactor. I did not wish to write
to thee until I was certain that I had been cured. I shall relate to thee
my voyage. I punctually followed the instructions of Nocrates, that wise
and enlightened physician. I first repaired to Memphis, where I visited,
but without success, the temple of Isis. I there beheld the goddess, and
her son Orus, seated on a throne, supported by two lions. The
_Sebestus_[23] grew round her shrine! Incense was burnt in the morning,
myrrha during the day, and cyplis at eve. I was assured that young
Alexander had come to this temple not long before to indulge in a holy
contemplation, and learn by inspiration the means of curing his friend
Ptolemy: his supplications were heeded. I also slept in the temple, but
found no relief. This misfortune, alas! was attributed to my incredulity.
I took my departure, and repaired to Patras. There I saw in her temple the
divine Hygeia; not as she was represented by Aristophanes, when she
relieved Plutus, sweet and graceful, clothed in an aerial robe and a short
tunic, and holding in her hand a cup of _Musa_, whence a serpent was seen
to spring, but she appeared to me in the form of a mysterious pentagon. I
first paid a devout visit to the fountain; and while I deposited my
offerings at the feet of the goddess, a mirror was floating on the surface
of the waters upon which I gazed by order of the priests, but I was not
cured! Thence I went to sleep at Pergania and at Hercyna. But the gods
seemed to slumber when Aspasia slept! On a sudden the name of Podalirius
struck mine ear! I was informed that his temple was at Lacera. I instantly
sought it; and, on my arrival, bathed in the Althonus. After the bath, I
was anointed with the perfumed balsams that our friend Sosinius had given
me in the temple of Mercury the day I left Athens. I then put up my
prayers to deserve the favour I implored from the god. At nightfall I
sought repose on the skin of a ram close to the statuary pillar. I soon
found myself in that state when we are no longer wide awake, but when
sleep has not yet lulled our senses to repose. Methought that a celestial
light was shed around me. Aesculapius appeared to me with his two
daughters; and, from the clouds that surrounded him, he promised me my
pristine health. I soon after fell into a profound sleep; but towards the
break of day I beheld Cypris--Cypris who was always the friend of
Podalirius: she came herself! I recognised her, although she had assumed
the form of a gentle dove. Yes, Cypris came to cure me. Podalirius!
Aesculapius! Cypris! each day shall you be thanked by Aspasia and by
Pericles.
"I must now relate to thee the vision of a Daunian, who slept near me. She
suffered from an affection of her breast, and this she dreamed:--She
beheld the young god Harpocrates lying on leaves of lotos, and covered
with bandages from the head to the feet. He appeared weak and emaciated;
he cried like an infant, supplicating the poor woman to nurse him. Soon
after, she dreamt that a lamb came to seek his sustenance from her bosom.
The dream was fulfilled,--it clearly indicated the use of a certain plant;
but, until it could be obtained, the Daunian was advised to eat nothing
but stewed raisins. Learn that here various names are given to various
inspirations. The last dream I have related is called _allegorical_. When
a dream prescribes a certain remedy, it is named _theorematic_. Here are
many dreams: wise Pericles, thou art perhaps smiling at them; but what is
_not_ visionary is my perfect recovery, and my love for thee. Farewell!"
Although this letter of Aspasia is an evident fiction, yet it gives an
excellent, though a romantic description of the incubation of the
ancients. Aspasia was supposed to be labouring under one of the most
vexatious disorders that can affect a pretty woman,--an eruption in the
face; hence the gods sent her a mirror, that her devotion might be
increased by her unsightly appearance. It is not improbable that in those
days, as in the present era, women of a certain, or rather an uncertain
age, were more fervid in their endeavours to render themselves acceptable
to Heaven when they ceased to be admired and sought for upon earth.