CHAPTER XIV.

IMAGINATION AS A REMEDIAL POWER.

Astrology, alchemy, the once general belief in the healing effects of

the royal touch, the use of charms and amulets, and mesmerism, are

only various exhibitions of one superstition, having for their essence

the same little grain of truth, and for their outward expression

different forms of error. Disconnected as they appear at first sight,

a brief examination discovers the common features which prove them to

be of one family. By turns they have--each of them--given humiliating

evidence of the irrational extravagances that reasoning creatures are

capable of committing; and each of them, also, has conferred some

benefits on mankind. The gibberish of Geber, and the alchemists who

preceded and followed him, led to the study of chemistry, the utility

and importance of which science we have only begun rightly to

appreciate; and a curiosity about the foolishness of astrology led Sir

Isaac Newton to his astronomical inquiries. Lord Bacon says--"The sons

of chemistry, while they are busy seeking the hidden gold--whether

real or not--have by turning over and trying, brought much profit and

convenience to mankind." And if the delusions of talismans, amulets,

and charms, and the impostures of Mesmer, have had no greater

consequences, they have at least afforded, to the observant and

reflective, much valuable instruction with regard to the constitution

of the human mind.

In the history of these superstitions we have to consider the

universal faith which men in all ages have entertained in planetary

influence, and which, so long as day and night, and the moon and tides

endure, few will be found so ignorant or so insensible as to question.

The grand end of alchemy was to transmute the base metals into gold;

and it proposed to achieve this by obtaining possession of the

different fires transmitted by the heavenly bodies to our planet, and

subjecting, according to a mysterious system, the comparatively

worthless substances of the mineral world to the forces of these

fires.

"Now," says Paracelsus, in his "Secrets of Alchemy," "we come to

speake of a manifold spirit or fire, which is the cause of variety and

diversity of creatures, so that there cannot one be found right like

another, and the same in every part; as it may be seen in metals, of

which there is none which hath another like itself; the _Sun_

produceth his gold; the _Moon_ produceth another metal far different,

to wit, silver; _Mars_ another, that is to say, iron; _Jupiter_

produceth another kind of metal to wit, tin; _Venus_ another, which is

copper; and _Saturn_ another kind, that is to say, lead: so that they

are all unlike, and several one from another; the same appeareth to be

as well amongst men as all other creatures, the cause whereof is the

multiplicity of fire.... Where there is no great mixture of the

elements, the Sun bringeth forth; where it is a little more thick, the

Moon; where more gross, Venus; and thus, according to the diversity of

mixtures, are produced divers metals; so that no metal appeared in the

same mine like another."

This, which is an extract from Turner's translation of Paracelsus's

"Secrets of Alchemy" (published in 1655), may be taken as a fair

sample of the jargon of alchemy.

The same faith in planetary influence was the grand feature of

astrology, which regarded all natural phenomena as the effects of the

stars acting upon the earth. Diseases of all kinds were referable to

the heavenly bodies; and so, also, were the properties of those herbs

or other objects which were believed in as remedial agents. In ancient

medicine, pharmacy was at one period only the application of the

dreams of astrology to the vegetable world. The herb which put an ague

or madness to flight, did so by reason of a mystic power imparted to

it by a particular constellation, the outward signs of which quality

were to be found in its colour or aspect. Indeed, it was not enough

that "a simple," impregnated with curative power by heavenly beams,

should be culled; but it had to be culled at a particular period of

the year, at a particular day of the month, even at a particular hour,

when the irradiating source of its efficacy was supposed to be

affecting it with a peculiar force; and, moreover, it had to be

removed from the ground or the stem on which it grew with a particular

instrument or gesture of the body--a disregard of which forms would

have obviated the kindly influence of the particular star, without

whose benignant aid the physician and the drug were alike powerless.

Medical practitioners smile now at the mention of these absurdities.

But many of them are ignorant that they, in their daily practice, help

to perpetuate the observance of one of these ridiculed forms. The sign

which every member of the Faculty puts before his prescriptions, and

which is very generally interpreted as an abbreviation for _Recipe_,

is but the astrological symbol of Jupiter.

[Illustration: _AN ACCIDENT_]

It was on this principle that a belief became prevalent that certain

objects, either of natural formation or constructed by the instruments

of art, had the power of counteracting noxious agents. An intimate

connection was supposed to exist between the form or colour of an

external substance and the use to which it ought to be put. Red

objects had a mysterious influence on inflammatory diseases; and

yellow ones had a similar power on those who were discoloured with

jaundice. Edward II.'s physician, John of Gaddesden, informs us, "When

the son of the renowned King of England lay sick of the small-pox, I

took care that everything round the bed should be of a red colour,

which succeeded so completely that the Prince was restored to perfect

health without a vestige of a pustule remaining." Even as late as

1765, this was put in practice to the Emperor Francis I. The earliest

talismans were natural objects, with a more or less striking external

character, imagined to have been impressed upon them by the planets of

whose influence they were especially susceptible, and of whose virtues

they were beyond all other substances the recipients. The amulet

(which differs little from the talisman, save in that it must be

worn suspended upon the person it is to protect, whereas the talisman

might be kept by its fortunate possessor locked up in his

treasure-house) had a like origin.

But when once a superstitious regard was paid to the external marks of

a natural object, it was a short and easy step to produce the

semblances of the revered characters by an artificial process, and

then bestow on them the reverential feelings which had previously been

directed to their originals. The ordinary course taken by a

superstition in its degradation is one where its first sentiment

becomes lost to sight, and its form is dogmatically insisted on. It

was so in that phase of feticism which consisted in the blind reliance

put on artificial talismans and amulets. The original significance of

the talisman--the truth which was embodied in it as the emblem of the

unseen powers that had produced it, in accordance with natural

operations--was forgotten. The rows of lines and scratches, and the

variegations of its colour, were only thought of; and the cunning of

man--ever ready to make a god for himself--was exerted to improve upon

them. In the multitude of new devices came inscriptions of mystic

numbers, strange signs, agglomerations of figures, and scraps from

sacred rituals--Abraxas and Abracadabra, and the Fi-fo-fum nonsense of

the later charms.

Creatures that were capable of detecting the influence of the

planetary system on that portion of Nature which is unquestionably

affected by it, and of imagining its presence in inanimate objects,

which, to use cautious language, have never been proved by science to

be sensible of such a power, of course magnified its consequences in

all that related to the human intellect and character. The instant in

which a man entered the world was regarded as the one when he was most

susceptible. Indeed, a babe was looked upon as a piece of warm and

pliant wax: and the particular planet which was in the ascendant when

the nurse placed the new child of Adam amongst the people of earth

stamped upon it a distinctive charactery. To be born under a

particular star was then an expression that meant something. On the

nature of the star it depended whether homunculus, squealing out its

first agonies, was to be morose or gentle, patient or choleric, lively

or saturnine, amorous or vindictive--a warrior or a poet--a dreamer or

a man of action.

Laughing at the refinements of absurdity at which astrology had

arrived in his day, the author of "Hudibras" says:--

"There's but the twinkling of a star

Between a man of peace and war;

A thief and justice, fool and knave,

A huffing officer and slave;

A crafty lawyer and a pickpocket,

A great philosopher and a blockhead;

A formal preacher and a player,

A learned physician and manslayer.

As if men from stars did suck

Old age, diseases, and ill-luck,

Wit, folly, honour, virtue, vice,

Travel and women, trade and dice;

And draw, with the first air they breathe,

Battle and murder, sudden death.

Are not these fine commodities

To be imported from the skies,

And vended here amongst the rabble

For staple goods and warrantable?"

Involved in this view of the universe was the doctrine that some

exceptional individuals were born far superior to the mass of their

fellow-creatures. Absurd as astrology was, still, its postulates

having once been granted, the logic was unassailable which argued that

those few on whose birth lucky stars had shone benignantly, had a

destiny and an organization distinct from those of ordinary mortals.

The dicta of modern liberalism, and the Transatlantic dogma that "all

men are by nature born equal," would have appeared to an orthodox

believer in this planetary religion nothing better than the ravings of

madness or impiety. Monarchs of men, whatever lowly station they at

first occupied in life, were exalted above others because they

possessed a distinctive excellence imparted to them at the hour of

birth by the silent rulers of the night. It was useless to strive

against such authority. To contend with it would have been to wrestle

with the Almighty--ever present in his peculiarly favoured creatures.

Rulers being such, it was but natural for their servile worshippers to

believe them capable of imparting to others, by a glance of the eye or

a touch of the hand, an infinitesimal portion of the virtue that dwelt

within them. To be favoured with their smiles was to bask in sunshine

amid perfumes. To be visited with their frowns was to be chilled to

the marrow, and feel the hail come down like keen arrows from an angry

sky. To be touched by their robes was to receive new vigour. Hence

came credence in the miraculous power of the imposition of royal, or

otherwise sacred hands. Pyrrhus and Vespasian cured maladies by the

touch of their fingers; and, long before and after them, earthly

potentates and spiritual directors had, both in the East and the West,

to prove their title to authority by displaying the same faculty.

In our own country more than in any other region of Christendom this

superstition found supporters. From Edward the Confessor down to Queen

Anne, who laid her healing hands on Samuel Johnson, it flourished; and

it was a rash man who, trusting to the blind guidance of human reason

dared to question that manifestation of the divinity which encircles

kingship. Doubtless the gift of money made to each person who was

touched did not tend to bring the cure into dis-esteem. It can be

easily credited that, out of the multitude who flocked to the presence

of Elizabeth and the Stuart kings for the benefit of their miraculous

manipulations, there were many shrewd vagabonds who had more faith in

the coin than in the touch bestowed upon them. The majority, however,

it cannot be doubted, were as sincere victims of delusion as those

who, at the close of the last century, believed in the efficacy of

metallic tractors, and those who now unconsciously expose their

intellectual infirmity as advocates of electro-biology and

spirit-rapping. The populace, as a body, unhesitatingly believed that

their sovereigns possessed this faculty as the anointed of the Lord. A

story is told of a Papist, who, much to his astonishment, was cured of

the king's evil by Elizabeth, after her final rupture with the court

of Rome.

"Now I perceive," cried the man, "by plain experience that the

excommunication against the Queen is of no effect, since God hath

blessed her with such a gift."

Nor would it be wise to suppose that none were benefited by the

treatment. The eagerness with which the vulgar crowd to a sight, and

the intense excitement with which London mobs witness a royal

procession to the houses of Parliament, or a Lord Mayor's pageant on

its way from the City to Westminster, may afford us some idea of the

inspiriting sensations experienced by a troop of wretches taken from

their kennels to Whitehall, and brought into personal contact with

their sovereign--their ideal of grandeur! Such a trip was a stimulus

to the nervous system, compared with which the shock of a galvanic

battery would have been but the tickling of a feather. And, over and

above this, was the influence of imagination, which in many ways may

become an agent for restoring the tone of the nervous system, and so

enabling Nature to overcome the obstacles of her healthy action.

Montaigne admirably treated this subject in his essay, "Of the Force

of Imagination"; and his anecdote of the happy results derived by an

unfortunate nobleman from the use of a flat gold plate, graven with

celestial figures, must have occurred to many of his readers who have

witnessed the beneficial effects which are frequently produced by the

practices of quackery.

"These apes' tricks," says Montaigne, "are the main cause of the

effect, our fancy being so far seduced as to believe that such strange

and uncouth formalities must of necessity proceed from some abstruse

science. Their very inanity gives them reverence and weight."

And old Burton, touching, in his "Anatomy of Melancholy," on the

power of imagination, says, quaintly:--

"How can otherwise blear eyes in one man cause the like affection in

another? Why doth one man's yawning make another man yawn? Why do

witches and old women fascinate and bewitch children; but, as Wierus,

Paracelsus, Cardan, Migaldus, Valleriola, Cæsar Vanninus, Campanella,

and many philosophers think, the forcible imagination of one party

moves and alters the spirits of the other. Nay more, they cause and

cure, not only diseases, maladies, and several infirmities by this

means, as 'Avicenna de Anim. 1. 4, sect. 4,' supposeth in parties

remote, but move bodies from their places, cause thunder, lightning,

tempests; which opinion Alkindus, Paracelsus, and some others approve

of."

In this passage Burton touches not only on the effects of the

imagination, but also on the impression which the nervous energy of

one person may create upon the nervous sensibility of another. That

such an impression can be produced, no one can question who observes

the conduct of men in their ordinary relations to each other. By

whatever term we christen it--endeavouring to define either the cause

or its effect--we all concur in admitting that decision of character,

earnestness of manner, enthusiasm, a commanding aspect, a piercing

eye, or a strong will, exercise a manifest control over common

natures, whether they be acting separately or in masses.

Of the men who, without learning, or an ennobling passion for truth,

or a high purpose of any kind, have, unaided by physical force,

commanded the attention and directed the actions of large numbers of

their fellow creatures, Mesmer is perhaps the most remarkable in

modern history. But we will not speak of him till we have paid a few

minutes' attention to one of his predecessors.

The most notable forerunner of Mesmer in this country was Valentine

Greatrakes, who, in Charles the Second's reign, performed "severall

marvaillous cures by the stroaking of the hands." He was a gentleman

of condition, and, at first, the dupe of his own imagination rather

than a deliberate charlatan. He was born on the 14th of February,

1628, on his father's estate of Affane, in the County of Waterford,

and was, on both sides, of more than merely respectable extraction,

his father being a gentleman of good repute and property, and his

mother being a daughter of Sir Edward Harris, Knt, a Justice of the

King's Bench in Ireland. The first years of his school-life were

passed in the once famous Academy of Lismore; but when he had arrived

at thirteen years of age his mother (who had become a widow), on the

outbreak of the rebellion, fled with him and his little brothers and

sisters to England, where the fugitive family were hospitably

entertained by Mr. Edmund Harris, a gentleman of considerable

property, and one of the justice's sons. After concluding his

education in the family of one John Daniel Getseus, a High-German

minister of Stock Gabriel, in the County of Devon, Valentine returned

to Ireland, then distracted with tumult and armed rebellion; and, by

prudently joining the victorious side, re-entered on the possession of

his father's estate of Affane. He served for six years in Cromwell's

forces (from 1650 to 1656) as a lieutenant of the Munster Cavalry,

under the command of the Earl of Orrery. Valentine's commission was

in the earl's regiment; and, from the time of entering the army till

the close of his career is lost sight of, he seems to have enjoyed the

patronage and friendship of that nobleman's family.

When the Munster horse was disbanded in 1656, Valentine retired to

Affane, and for a period occupied himself as an active and influential

country gentleman. He was made Clerk of the Peace for the County of

Cork, a Register for Transplantation, and a Justice of the Peace. In

the performance of the onerous duties which, in the then disturbed

state of Ireland, these offices brought upon him, he gained deserved

popularity and universal esteem. He was a frank and commanding

personage, of pleasant manners, gallant bearing, fine figure, and

singularly handsome face. With a hearty and musical voice, and a

national stock of high animal spirits, he was the delight of all

festive assemblies, taking his pleasure freely, but never to excess.

Indeed, Valentine was a devout man, not ashamed, in his own household,

and in his bearing to the outer world, to avow that it was his

intention to serve the Lord. But, though he had all the purity of

Puritanism, there was in him no taint of sectarian rancour or

uncharitableness. When an anonymous writer aspersed his reputation, he

responded--and no one could gainsay his words--with regard to his

public career:--"I studied so to acquit myself before God and man in

singleness and integrity of heart, that, to the comfort of my soul,

and praise of God that directed me, I can with confidence say I never

took bribe nor reward from any man, though I had many and great ones

before me (when I was Register for Transplantation); nor did I ever

connive at or suffer a malefactor to go unpunished, if the person were

guilty of any notorious crime (when I had power), nor did I ever take

the fee belonging to my office, if I found the person were injured, or

in want; nor did I ever commit any one for his judgment and conscience

barely, so it led him not to do anything to the disturbance of the

civil peace of the nation; nor did I take anything for my fee when he

was discharged--for I bless God he has taken away a persecuting spirit

from me, who would persuade all men to be Protestants, those

principles being most consonant to Truth and the Word of God, in my

judgment, and that profession which I have ever been of, and still

am.... Yet (though there were orders from the power that then was, to

all Justices of the Peace, for Transplanting all Papists that would

not go to church), I never molested any one that was known or esteemed

to be innocent, but suffered them to continue in the English quarters,

and that without prejudice. So that I can truly say, I never injured

any man for his conscience, conceiving that ought to be informed and

not enforced."

On the Restoration, Valentine Greatrakes lost his offices, and was

reduced to the position of a mere private gentleman. His estate at

Affane was a small one; but he laboured on it with good results,

introducing into his neighbourhood a more scientific system of

agriculture than had previously been known there, and giving an

unprecedented quantity of employment to the poor. Perhaps he missed

the excitement of public business, and his energies, deprived of the

vent they had for many years enjoyed, preyed upon his sensitive

nature. Anyhow, he became the victim of his imagination, which, acting

on a mind that had been educated in a school of spiritual earnestness

and superstitious introspection, led him into a series of remarkable

hallucinations. He first had fits of pensiveness and dejection,

similar to those which tormented Cromwell ere his genius found for

itself a more fit field of display than the management of a brewery

and a few acres of marsh-land. Ere long he had an impulse, or a

strange persuasion in his own mind (of which he was not able to give

any rational account to another), which did very frequently suggest to

him that there was bestowed on him the gift of curing the King's Evil,

which for the extraordinariness of it, he thought fit to conceal for

some time, but, at length communicated to his wife, and told her,

"That he did verily believe that God had given him the blessing of

curing the King's Evil; for, whether he were in private or publick,

sleeping or waking, still he had the same impulse; but her reply was

to him, that she conceived this was a strange imagination." Such is

his statement.

Patients either afflicted with King's Evil, or presumed to be so, were

in due course brought before him; and, on his touching them, they

recovered. It may be here remarked that in the days when the Royal

Touch was believed in as a cure for scrofula, the distinctions between

strumous and other swellings were by no means ascertained even by

physicians of repute; and numbers of those who underwent the

manipulation of Anointed Rulers were suffering only from aggravated

boils and common festering sores, from which, as a matter of course,

nature would in the space of a few weeks have relieved them.

Doubtless many of Valentine's patients were suffering, not under

scrofulous affections, but comparatively innocent tumours; for his

cures were rapid, complete, and numerous. A second impulse gave him

the power of curing ague; and a third inspiration of celestial aura

imparted to him command, under certain conditions, over all human

diseases. His modes of operation were various. When an afflicted

person was laid before him, he usually offered up a prayer to God to

help him, to make him the humble instrument of divine mercy. And

invariably when a patient derived benefit from his treatment, he

exhorted him to offer up his thanks to his Heavenly Father. After the

initiatory supplication the operator passed his hands over the

affected part of the sick person's body, sometimes over the skin

itself and sometimes over the clothes. The manipulations varied in

muscular force from delicate tickling to violent rubbing, according to

the nature of the evil spirits by which the diseased people were

tormented. Greatrakes's theory of disease was the scriptural one: the

morbific power was a devil, which had to be expelled from the frame in

which it had taken shelter. Sometimes the demon was exorcised by a few

gentle passes; occasionally it fled at the verbal command of the

physician, or retreated on being gazed at through the eyes of the

mortal it tormented; but frequently the victory was not gained till

the healer rubbed himself--like the rubber who in our own day makes

such a large income at Brighton--into a red face and a copious

perspiration. Henry Stubbe, a famous physician in Stratford-upon-Avon,

in his "Miraculous Conformist," published in 1666, gives the

following testimony:--

"_Proofs that he revives the Ferment of the Blood._--Mr Bromley's

brother, of Upton upon Severne, after a long quartane Ague, had by a

Metastasis of the Disease such a chilnesse in the habit of the body,

that no clothes could possibly warme him; he wore upon his head many

spiced caps, and tenne pounds weight of linen on his head. Mr

Greatarick stripped him, and rubbed him all over, and immediately he

sweat, and was hot all over, so that the bath never heated up as did

the hand of Mr Greatarick's; this was his own expression. But Mr

Greatarick causing him to cast off all that multitude of caps and

cloaths, it was supposed that it frustrated the happy effect, for he

felt the recourse of his disease in some parts rendered the cure

suspicious. But as often as Mr Greatarick came and rubbed him he would

be all in a flame againe for half-an-hour: the experiment whereof was

frequently practised for five or six dayes at Ragly."

Greatrakes himself also speaks of his more violent curative exertions

making him very hot. But it was only occasionally that he had to

labour so vehemently. His eye, the glance of which had a fascinating

effect on people of a nervous organization, and his fantastic

ticklings, usually produced all the results required by his mode of

treatment.

The fame of the healer spread far and wide. Not only from the most

secluded parts of Ireland, but from civilized England, the lame and

blind, the deaf, dumb, and diseased, made pilgrimages to the Squire of

Affane. His stable, barn, and malt-house were crowded with wretches

imploring his aid. The demands upon his time were so very many and

great, that he set apart three days in the week for the reception of

patients; and on those days, from six in the morning till six in the

evening, he ministered to his wretched clients. He took no fee but

gratitude on the part of those he benefited, and a cheering sense that

he was fulfilling the commands of the founder of his religion. The

Dean of Lismore cited him to appear before the ecclesiastical court,

and render an account of his proceedings. He went, and on being asked

if he had worked any cures, replied to the court that they might come

to his house and see. The judge asked if he had a licence to practise

from the ordinary of the diocese; and he replied that he knew of no

law which prohibited any man from doing what good he could to others.

He was, however, commanded by the court not to lay his hands again on

the sick, until he had obtained the Ordinary's licence to do so. He

obeyed for two days only, and went on again more earnestly than ever.

Let a charlatan or an enthusiast spread his sails, the breeze of

fashion is always present, and ready to swell them. The Earl of Orrery

took his quondam lieutenant by the hand, and persuaded him to go over

to England to cure the Viscountess Conway of a violent headache,

which, in spite of the ablest physicians of England and France, she

had suffered from for many years. Lord Conway sent him an urgent

invitation to do so. He complied, and made his way to Rugby, in

Warwickshire, where he was unable to give relief to his hostess, but

was hospitably entertained for a month. His inability to benefit Lady

Conway did not injure his reputation, for he did not profess to be

able to cure every one. An adverse influence--such as the sins of a

patient, or his want of faith--was enough to counteract the healing

power. In the jargon of modern mesmerism, which _practically_ was only

a revival of Greatrakes's extravagances, the physician could affect

only those who were susceptible. But though Lady Conway was beyond the

reach of his mysterious agency, the reverse was the case with others.

The gentry and commonalty of Warwickshire crowded by thousands to him;

and he touched, prayed over, and blessed them, and sent them away

rejoicing. From Rugby he went to Worcester, at the request of the Lord

Mayor and Aldermen of that city; and from Worcester he was carried up

to London. Lord Arlington commanded him to appear at Whitehall, and

mumble in his particular fashion for the amusement of Charles II. A

man who could cure gout by a touch would have been an acquisition to

such a court as then presided over English manners.

In London he immediately became a star. The fashion of the West, and

the wary opulence of the East, laid their offerings at his feet. For a

time he ruled from Soho to Wapping. Mr. Justice Godfrey gave him rooms

for the reception of patients in his mansion in Lincoln's-inn-Fields;

and thither flocked the mob of the indigent and the mob of the wealthy

to pay him homage. Mr. Boyle (the brother of the Earl of Orrery), Sir

William Smith, Dr. Denton, Dr. Fairclough, Dr. Faber, Sir Nathaniel

Hobart, Sir John Godolphin, Dr. Wilkins, Dr. Whichcot, and Dr.

Cudworth, were amongst his most vehement supporters of the sterner

sex. But the majority of his admirers were ladies. The Countess of

Devonshire entertained him in her palace; and Lady Ranelagh frequently

amused the guests at her routs with Mr. Valentine Greatrakes, who, in

the character of _the lion_ of the season, performed with wondrous

results on the prettiest or most hysterical of the ladies present. It

was held as certain by his intimate friends that the curative property

that came from him was a subtle aura, effulgent, and of an exquisitely

sweet smell, that could only be termed the divine breath. "God," says

Dr. Henry Stubbe, "had bestowed upon Mr. Greaterick a peculiar

temperament, or composed his body of some particular ferments, the

effluvia whereof, being introduced sometimes by a light, sometimes by

a violent friction, should restore the temperament of the debilitated

parts, re-invigorate the blood, and dissipate all heterogeneous

ferments out of the bodies of the diseased by the eyes, nose, mouth,

hands, and feet. I place the gift of healing in the temperament or

composure of his body, because I see it is necessary that he touch

them. Besides, the Right Honourable the Lord Conway observed one

morning, as he came into his Lordship's chamber, a smell strangely

pleasant, as if it had been of sundry flowers; and demanding of his

man what sweet water he had brought into the room, he answered,

_None_; whereupon his Lordship smelled upon the hand of Mr.

Greaterick, and found the fragrancy to issue thence; and examining his

bosom, he found the like scent there also." Dean Rust gave similar

testimony; and "Sir Amos Meredith, who had been Mr. Greaterick's

bed-fellow," did the like.

Amongst the certificates of cures performed, which Greatrakes

published, are two to which the name of Andrew Marvell is affixed, as

a spectator of the stroking. One of them is the following:--

"MR NICHOLSON'S CERTIFICATE.

"I, Anthony Nicholson, of Cambridge, Bookseller, have been

affected sore with pains all over my body, for

three-and-twenty years last past, have had advice and best

directions of all the doctors there; have been at the bath

in Somersetshire, and been at above one hundred pounds

expense to procure ease, or a cure of these pains; and have

found all the means I could be advised or directed to

ineffectual for either, till, by the advice of Dr Benjamin

Whichcot and Dean Rust, I applyed myself to Mr Greatrake's

for help upon Saturday was sevenight, being the latter end

of March, and who then stroked me; upon which I was very

much worse, and enforced to keep my bed for five or six

days; but then being stroked twice since, by the blessing of

God upon Mr Greatrake's endeavours, I am perfectly eas'd of

all pains, and very healthy and strong, insomuch as I intend

(God willing) to return home towards Cambridge to-morrow

morning, though I was so weak as to be necessitated to be

brought up in men's arms, on Saturday last about 11 of the

clock, to Mr Greatrake's. Attested by me this tenth day of

April, 1666. I had also an hard swelling in my left arm,

whereby I was disabled from using it; which being taken out

by the said Mr Greatrake's, I am perfectly freed of all

pain, and the use thereof greatly restored.

"ANTHONY NICHOLSON.

"In the presence of Andrew Marvell, Jas. Fairclough, Tho.

Alured, Tho. Pooley, W. Popple."

There were worse features of life in Charles the Second's London than

the popularity of Valentine Greatrakes; but his triumph was of short

duration. His professions were made the butts of ridicule, to which

his presence of mind and volubility were unable to respond with

effect. It was asserted by his enemies that his system was only a

cloak under which he offended the delicacy of virtuous women, and

roused the passions of the unchaste. His tone of conversation was

represented as compounded of the blasphemy of the religious enthusiast

and the blasphemy of the profligate. His boast that he never received

a fee for his remedial services was met by flat contradiction, and a

statement that he received presents to the amount of £100 at a time

from a single individual. This last accusation was never clearly

disposed of; but it is probable that the reward he sought (if he

looked for any) was restoration, through Court influence, to the

commission of magistrates for his county, and the lost clerkship of

the peace. The tide of slander was anyhow too strong for him, and he

retired to his native country a less honoured though perhaps a not

less honest man than he left it. Of his sincerity at the outset of his

career as a healer there can be little doubt.

Valentine Greatrakes did unconsciously what many years after him

Mesmer did by design. He in his remarkable career illustrated the

power which a determined man may exercise over the will and nervous

life of another.

As soon as the singular properties of the loadstone were discovered,

they were presumed to have a strong medicinal effect; and in this

belief physicians for centuries--and indeed almost down to present

times--were in the habit of administering pulverized magnet in salves,

plaisters, pills, and potions. It was not till the year 1660 that it

was for the first time distinctly recorded in the archives of science,

by Dr. Gilbert, of Colchester, that in a state of pulverization the

loadstone no longer possessed any magnetic powers. But it was not till

some generations after this that medical practitioners universally

recognized the fact that powder of magnet, externally or internally

administered, was capable of producing no other results than the

presence of any ordinary ferruginous substance would account for. But

long after this error had been driven from the domains of science, an

unreasonable belief in the power of magnets applied externally to the

body held its ground. In 1779-80, the Royal Society of Medicine in

Paris made numerous experiments with a view to arrive at a just

appreciation of the influence of magnets on the human system, and came

to the conclusion that they were medicinal agents of no ordinary

efficacy.

Such was the state of medical opinion at the close of the last

century, when Perkins's tractors, which were supposed to act

magnetically, became the fashion. Mr. Perkins was a citizen of

Connecticut, and certainly his celebrated invention was worthy of the

'cutest people on the 'varsal earth. Barnum's swindles were modest

ventures by comparison. The entire world, old and new, went

tractor-mad. Every valetudinarian bought the painted nails, composed

of an alloy of various metals (which none but Perkins could make, and

none but Perkins sell), and tickled with their sharp ends those parts

of his frame which were regarded as centres of disease.

The phenomena apparently produced by these instruments were

astounding, and misled every observer of them; until Dr. Haygarth of

Bath proved by a process to which objections was impossible, that they

were referable not to metal points, but to the mental condition of

those who used them. "Robert Thomas," says Dr. Haygarth in his

interesting work, "aged forty-three, who had been for some time under

the care of Dr. Lovell, in the Bristol Infirmary, with a rheumatic

affection of the shoulder, which rendered his arm perfectly useless,

was pointed out as a proper object of trial by Mr. J. W. Dyer,

apothecary to the house. Tuesday, April 19th, having everything in

readiness, I passed through the ward, and, in a way that he might

suspect nothing, questioned him respecting his complaint. I then told

him that I had an instrument in my pocket which had been very

serviceable to many in his state; and when I had explained to him how

simple it was, he consented to undergo the operation. In six minutes

no other effect was produced than a warmth upon the skin, and I feared

that this _coup d'essai_ had failed. The next day, however, he told me

that 'he had received so much benefit that it had enabled him to lift

his hand from his knee, which he had in vain several times attempted

on Monday evening, as the whole ward witnessed.' The tractors I used

being made of lead, I thought it advisable to lay them aside, lest,

being metallic points, the proof against the fraud might be less

complete. Thus much, however, was proved, that the patent tractors

possessed no specific power independent of simple metals. Two pieces

of wood, properly shaped and painted, were next made use of; and in

order to add solemnity to the farce, Mr. Barton held in his hand a

stop-watch, whilst Mr. Lax minuted the effects produced. In four

minutes the man raised his hand several inches; and he had lost also

the pain in his shoulder, usually experienced when attempting to lift

anything. He continued to undergo the operation daily, and with

progressive good effect; for on the twenty-fifth he could touch the

mantel-piece. On the twenty-seventh, in the presence of Dr. Lovell and

Mr. J. P. Noble, two common iron nails, disguised with sealing-wax,

were substituted for the pieces of mahogany before used. In three

minutes he felt something moving from his arm to his hand, and soon

after he touched the board of rules which hung a foot above the

fire-place. This patient at length so far recovered that he could

carry coals and use his arm sufficiently to help the nurse; yet,

previous to the use of the spurious tractors, he could no more lift

his hand from his knee than if a hundredweight were upon it, or a nail

driven through it--as he declared in the presence of several

gentlemen, whose names I shall have frequent occasion to mention. The

fame of this case brought applications in abundance; indeed, it must

be confessed that it was more than sufficient to act upon weak minds,

and induce a belief that these pieces of wood and iron were endowed

with some peculiar virtues."

The result of Dr. Haygarth's experiments was the overthrow of Perkins,

and the enlightenment of the public as to the real worth of the

celebrated metallic tractors. In achieving this the worthy physician

added some interesting facts to the science of psychology. But of

course his influence upon the ignorant and foolish persons he

illuminated was only transient. Ere a few short years or even months

were over, they had embraced another delusion--not less ridiculous,

but more pernicious.

A Book About Doctors · 第 14 / 27 章