Part 17
With us there was a doctour of phisike; In all this world, ne was there none him like To speake of phisike and of surgerie, For he was grounded in astronomie. He kept his patient a full great dell In houses: by his magike naturell Well couth he fortune the assendent Of his image for his pacient. He knew the cause of every malady, Whether it were of cold, heate, moist, or dry. And whereof engendered was each humour. He was a very parfit practisour; The cause I knew, and of his haime the roote, Anon he gave to the rich man his boot. Full ready had he his apoticaries To send him drugs and his lectuaries; For each of them made other for to winne, Their friendship was not new to beginne. Well he knew the old Esculapius, And Diascorides, and eke Ruffus, And Hippocrates, and Galen, Serapion, Rasis, and Avicen, Aberrois, Damascene, and Constantin, Bernard, Galisden, and Gilbertin Of his diet measurable was he, For it was of no superfluitie; But of great nourishing and digestible. His study was but little on the Bible. In sanguine and in percepolad withall Lined with taffata and with sendall; And yet he was but easy of dispence. He kept that he won in time of pestilence; For gold in phisike is a cordial, Therefore he loved gold speciall.
It appears from this quaint and satirical picture, that, in our Chaucer's days, astrology formed part of a physician's study. It also plainly proves that a disgraceful collusion prevailed between medical practitioners and their apothecaries, mutually to enrich each other at the expense of the patient's purse and constitution. The poet, moreover, seems to tax the faculty with irreligion: that unjust accusation was not uncommon; hence the old adage, "Ubi tres medici, duo athei." To the disgrace of many illiberal persons of the present age, we have known some of our most able and praiseworthy physiologists charged with materialism.
DAEMONOMANIA.
This disease is perhaps the most distressing species of insanity; since, with the exception of the miserable belief of being possessed by the evil spirit, the patient is often in full possession of his other faculties, and will even endeavour to reason with his attendants, with some apparent plausibility, on the very aberration that constitutes the malady.
The word 'daemon' among the ancients was not considered as specific of an evil spirit; on the contrary, it signified genius, intellect, mind. [Greek: Daimonion], from [Greek: daimon], meant wisdom, science. The first notions of daemons were probably brought from Chaldea, whence they spread amongst the Persians, Egyptians, and Greeks. Gales maintains that the original institution of daemons was an imitation of the Messiah. The Phoenicians called them _Baalim_. So far do these early opinions prevail, that among the Anabaptists we find a sect called Daemoniac, who believe that devils shall be saved at the end of the world.
Plato gave the name of daemons to the benevolent spirits who regulated the universe. The Chaldeans and Jews considered them as the causes of all human maladies. Saul was agitated by an evil spirit, and Job and Joram suffered under a similar visitation.
Daemonomania differs widely from the mental disease called Theomania. In the latter state of insanity the patient fancies that he is placed in communication with the Deity or his angels; in the former, he feels convinced that he has become the prey of the destroyer of mankind.
Under the head of "Unlawful Cures," instances are related of the firm belief in the power of evil spirits to cause various diseases. Perhaps the origin of daemonomania may be traced to fanatical persecution; never was the malady so common as during the denunciations of Calvin, when torture was frequently resorted to, to make the victims of bigotry renounce a supposed pact with the devil. D'Agessau was right when, in advising the parliament of Paris to repeal all statutes against sorcery, he recommended that daemoniacs should be handed over to the physician, instead of the priest or the executioner.
The sufferings which daemoniacs say they endure must be excruciating; so powerful is moral influence over our physical sensations. They will tell you that the devil is drawing them tight, and suffocating them with a cord; that he is pinching and lacerating their entrails, burning and tearing their heart, pouring hot oil or molten lead in their veins, while internal flames are consuming them. Their strength is exhausted, their digestive functions impaired, their appearance soon becomes miserable in the extreme, their countenances pale and haggard: the wretched creatures endeavour to conceal themselves during their scanty meals, or their attempts to enjoy a broken slumber; they are persuaded that they no longer possess a corporeal existence that requires refection or repose,--the evil spirit has borne away their bodies, the devil requires no earthly support; they even deny their sex: they are doomed to live for ever in constant agony. These unfortunate creatures are mostly women. One of them asserts, with horrid imprecations, that she has been the devil's wife for a million of years, and had borne him a numerous family; her body is nothing but a sack made of a devil's skin, and filled with their offsprings in the shape of devouring snakes, toads, and venomous reptiles. She exclaims that her husband constantly urges her to commit murder, theft, and every imaginable crime; and sometimes with bitter tears supplicates her keeper to put on a strait waistcoat, to prevent her from doing evil. Another woman, forty-eight years of age, assures us that she has two devils who have taken up their residence in both her hips, and have grown up to her ears: one of them is black and yellow, the other black, both in the shape of cats. She fills her ears with snuff and grease to satisfy their diabolical cravings. She eats with voracity, but is a perfect skeleton in appearance; the devils consume all, and leave her nothing. They constantly bid her to go and drown herself; but she cannot obey them, since eternity is her doom. They are scarcely sensible of painful agents, and are unconscious of heat, cold, or the inclemency of the weather. Their perspiration, frequently profuse, exhales a most unpleasant odour; hence the vulgar fancy that they smell of the lower regions. This circumstance is the usual consequence of many nervous affections, and arises, most probably, from the foulness of the breath, a natural result of impaired digestion, and from a peculiar acrimony of the cutaneous secretions.
Pinel relates the case of a missionary whose enthusiastic aberrations led him into the horrible belief, that he could only be saved from eternal torments, by what he called a _baptism of blood_. This fatal mania induced him to attempt the life of his wife, who was fortunate to escape from the danger, after he had immolated two of his children, to secure their salvation! Tried for this crime he was sentenced to perpetual confinement in Bicetre. In his dungeon he fancied himself the _fourth person in the trinity_, maintained that he was sent upon earth to baptize with blood, and all the power of the universe could not affect his life. During ten years' confinement this miserable wretch, betrayed the same insanity whenever religious subjects were touched upon, in all other matters, he reasoned most soundly. His lucid intervals at last became so long in their duration and calm, that it was questioned whether he might not be liberated--until on a Christmas eve, his sanguinary monomania resumed all its intensity, and having by some means or other obtained possession of a leather-cutter's knife, he inflicted a desperate wound on one of his keepers, and cut the throat of two patients who were near them; many other inmates of the establishment would, no doubt, have been sacrificed by the desperate maniac had he not been secured. This case might decidedly be considered one of true daemonomania.
It has been generally remarked that cases of daemonomania are more common amongst women than in men. Their greater susceptibility to nervous affections, their warmth of imagination and strong passions, which habit and education compel them to restrain, produce a state of concentration that must cause increased excitement, and render them more liable to those terrific impressions that constitute the disease. These terrors, from false notions of the Deity, make them anticipate in this world the sufferings denounced in the next. One woman has been known to become daemonomaniac after an intense perusal of the Apocalypse, and another by the constant reading of the works of Thomas a Kempis. Women, moreover, at certain critical periods are subject to great mental depression, which they have not the power to relieve by exciting pursuits, like men. Melancholy succeeds a dull sameness. Religion, viewed in a false light, becomes her refuge; more especially at an advanced period of life, when loss of youth and beauty is bitterly felt, as galled vanity compares the present with the past. Hysteric symptoms are now developed: the passions, which are too frequently increased even to intensity, rather than cooled, by years, prompt her to rebellious thoughts that religion and virtuous feelings strive to restrain; and these powerful agents, acting upon a predisposition morbidly impressionable from ignorance or the errors of education, accelerate the invasion of this cruel malady. Jacobi informs us, that this is still the character which, in some catholic countries, insanity connected with superstition frequently assumes.
Pliny tells us that women are the best subjects for magical experiments; Quintilian is of the same opinion: Saul consults a witch; Bodin, in his calculations, estimates the proportion between wizards and witches as one to fifty. It is, perhaps, owing to these remarks that many ungenerous writers have denied _women_ a soul, as not belonging to _mankind_. There exists a curious anonymous work, published at the close of the sixteenth century, to prove that women are not men, or, in other words, reasonable creatures, and entitled "_Dissertatio perjucunda qua Anonymus probare nititur Mulieres homines non esse_." Our author upon this principle endeavours to show that women cannot be saved. One Simon Geddicus, a Lutheran divine, wrote a serious confutation of this libel upon the fair sex, in 1595, and promises the ladies an expectation of salvation on their good behaviour. According to a popular tradition among the Mahometans, women are excluded from paradise: St. Augustin, however, calls them the _devout sex_; and in the prayer to the Virgin of the Romish Church we find "_Intercede pro devoto foemineo sexu_." An hypothesis still more absurd was broached by a Doctor Almaricus, a theological Parisian writer of the twelfth century, who advanced that, had it not been for the original sin, every individual of our species would have come into existence a complete man; and that God would have created them by himself, as he created Adam. Our worthy doctor was a disciple of Aristotle, who maintained that woman was a defective animal, and her generation purely fortuitous and foreign to nature. Howbeit, my fair readers will learn with satisfaction that the doctrines of this aforesaid Almaricus were condemned by the church as heretical, and his bones were therefore dug up, and cast into a common sewer, as an _amende honorable_ to the offended ladies.
"A woman," says one of the primitive fathers of the church, "went to the play, and came back with the devil in her; whereupon, when the unclean spirit was urged and threatened, in the office of exorcising, for having dared to attack one of the faithful, 'I have done nothing,' replied he, 'but what is very fair; I found her on my own grounds, and I took possession of her.'"
St. Cyprian informs us, that when he was studying magic, he was
## particularly intimate with the devil. "I saw the devil himself," he says;
"embraced him; I conversed with him, and was esteemed one of those who held a principal rank about him." Who can doubt the assertion of a saint! It appears, that in those wonderful days the devil usually wore a black gown, with a black hat; and it was observed that, whenever he was preaching, his _glutei muscles_ were as cold as ice.
At all times satire has endeavoured to make invidious distinctions between the sexes: this is not fair. Women are generally what men have made them. In a physical, and, consequently, to a certain degree in a moral point of view, their organization is essentially different from ours; therefore, a masculine woman is as intolerable as an effeminate man. The education of females tends in a great measure to increase that susceptibility to trifling excitements, which in after-life urges them to the extremes of good or evil. While the toys and amusements of boys are of a manly nature, a girl is taught to practise upon her darling doll all the arts which a few years after she will practise upon herself. Many intelligent writers have doubted the expediency of giving woman any education beyond the sphere of her domestic pursuits and occupations; Erasmus wrote largely on this subject to Budaeus. Vives treats of it in his _Institutio foeminae Christianae_; and a German authoress, Madame Schurman, has published a treatise on the problem, "_Num foeminae Christianae conveniat studium literarum?_"
It is this nervous flexibility in women that exposes them to that constant succession of emotions which are expressed by a rapid transition from tears to smiles; and, anomalous as it may appear, they are more exposed to fond impressions in their grief than at any other moment; they then feel more helpless, and stand in greater need of consolation. The story of the Matron of Ephesus is not so great a libel on the sex as one might imagine. Their mind is prone to romantic enthusiasm; they delight in the extraordinary, the terrible, and as Madame de Sevigne, who well knew her sex, expresses it, they enjoy in chivalric tales _les grands coups d'epee_. Prudence preventing them too frequently from expressing their thoughts, thinking becomes more intense; and Publius Syrus has said, "_Mulier quae sola cogitat, male cogitat_:" but when the suppressed volcano bursts forth, its eruptions are boundless; it is then that one may exclaim, "_Notumque fuerit quid foemina possit_." No passion is more overwhelming than when it has been kept down by dissimulation; opportunity is their curse: Montaigne has too truly said, "_Oh le furieux avantage que l'opportunite_!" and our Denham has beautifully illustrated its fearful circumstances:
Opportunity, like a sudden gust, Hath swell'd my calmer thoughts into a tempest. Accursed opportunity! That works our thoughts into desires; desires To resolutions; those being ripe and quickened, Thou giv'st them birth, and bring'st them forth to action.
It is a perilous ordeal for such to whom the lines of Ovid might apply,
Quae, quia non liceat, non facit; illa facit.
To what prejudice against women are we to trace their sex having been chosen to represent the Furies, stern and inexorable ministers of Divine wrath; the Harpies, who defiled all they touched; the perilous Sirens; unless it be to woman's fascinations in youth, and envious bitterness in old age--the conventional type of witchcraft? This unhappy selection of woman for working _malefices_ has been attributed to the facility which the devil found in tempting Eve. A witch is supposed by the most learned in the black art to be in compact with Satan, whom she is obliged to obey; whereas a sorcerer commands the devil himself by his knowledge of charms and invocations, but more especially of perfumes that the evil spirits delight in when properly suffumigated, or abhor when maliciously given them to smell. Thus the burning of a fish's liver by Tobit drove the devil into the remote parts of Egypt; and Lilly informs us, that one Evans having raised a spirit at the request of Lord Bothwell and Sir Kenelm Digby, and forgotten his favourite fumigation or incense, the angry elf whipped him up, and carried him from his house in the Minories to Battersea Causeway.
Although fairies are mostly considered juvenile, and many of their kind acts are recorded, yet are they in general mischievous imps; Mr. Lewis describes those he saw in the silver and lead mines of Wales, as only being about half a yard high. As a punishment for their vagaries, all their children are stunted and idiotic; and this accounts for their abominable custom of substituting their own "base elfin breed" for healthy infants. Hence are idiots commonly called changelings.
Daemoniacs are prone to commit suicide, less from their loathing an irksome life than through fear, not of future torments, but of the renewal or the continuance of their worldly sufferings. Perhaps they may entertain some doubts as to the punishment of another existence, while their actual condition is intolerable; we not unfrequently see desperate men rushing to meet the very fate they dread.
Daemonomania may be referred to a false view of divine justice,--ignorance, and consequent weakness of intellect,--and a pusillanimous apprehension of perhaps a merited chastisement. It is a disease which seldom admits of a cure. If the consolations of true religion are proffered, they are either spurned with anger, or merely produce an evanescent melioration. Zacutus relates the case of a daemoniac who was cured by a person who appeared to her in the form of an angel, to inform her that her sins had been forgiven: it is possible that stratagems of a similar nature might prevail. I attended a monomaniac lady in Paris, who fancied herself in Jerusalem on the eve of its destruction. She furiously opposed all endeavours to move her from her residence; and it was only by personating a Jewish rabbi, and offering to take her to New Jerusalem as a place of refuge, that she consented to accompany me in a carriage to a _maison de sante_ near the capital. Here imagination subdued imagination. I have had the pleasure to hear that ever since I thus succeeded in breaking a link in the morbid association of her fancies, her state of mind rapidly improved, and that she is now restored to perfect sanity.
Daemonomania has been known to be epidemic. From 1552 to 1554 no less than eighty-four persons became possessed in Rome. The endeavours of a French monk to exorcise them proved of no avail; and as most of the unfortunate victims of credulity were Jewesses who had consented to be baptized, the Jews were of course accused of sorcery. About the same period a similar disease broke out in a convent near Kerndrop, in Germany, when all the nuns were possessed, and denounced their cook, who, having confessed that she was a witch, was duly burnt alive with her mother.
Daemonomania has been considered an hereditary visitation, and whole families have therefore been deemed in pact with the evil one. Insanity is unfortunately known to attach itself to certain generations; but perhaps it has not been sufficiently observed, when endeavouring to account for this melancholy fact, that the mind becomes gradually influenced by the nature of the constant conversation we daily and hourly are exposed to hear; and it is not impossible but that this transmission of mental disease may be attributed to morbid moral and physical sympathies, which might be avoided by withdrawing the persons exposed to it from the sphere of their action. Constant anxious thoughts and painful reflections tend to produce an increased sensorial power in the brain, with a diminished sensibility to external impressions. So great has been this effect upon the senses, that maniacs have been seen to gaze upon the meridian sun without any sensible effect on the organs of vision. It is therefore possible that an individual who beholds with incessant horror insanity in his family, or who constantly hears of their aberrations, may ultimately experience a similar peculiarity of the mind: hence wit as well as madness have been known to be the heir-looms of a race. Although the examples of vice, one might imagine, would inspire a love for virtuous actions, yet we daily see profligacy the characteristic of an entire family; and there are names which have been rendered by misconduct synonymous with depravity. This sad fact can only be attributed to natural temperament, whether it be sanguine or melancholic. It has been observed that our constitutions exercise a control over diseases, that modifies them in a peculiar manner. The more acute the sensibility, the greater is the predisposition to insanity. Warm and ungovernable passions will drive one female into all the horrid excesses of nymphomania, while the timid hypochondriac and hysteric woman will gradually sink into a morose or a malevolent despondency. Burton attributes daemonomania to other causes, and tells us that the devil is so cunning that he is able to deceive the very elect; and, to compel them the more to stand in awe of him, he sends and cures diseases, disquiets their minds, torments and terrifies their souls, to make them adore him; and all his study, all his endeavour, is to divert them from true religion to superstition; and because he is damned himself, and is in error, he would have all the world participate of his errors, and be damned with him.
Amongst the various motives that induced the evil one to pay his sinister visits to frail mortality, that of inflicting upon them a salutary, or a vexatious fustigation, is frequently recorded by the fathers and other writers. It was more especially upon the backs of saints that this castigation took place. St. Athanasius informs us that St. Anthony was frequently flagellated by the devil. St. Jerome states that St. Hilarius was often whipped in a similar manner; and he calls the devil "a wanton gladiator," and thus describes his mode of punishment: "Insidet dorso ejus festivus gladiator; et latera calcibus, cervicem flagello verberans." Grimalaicus, a learned divine, confirms the fact in the following passage: "Nonnumquam autem et aperta impugnatione grassantes, daemones humana corpora verberant, sicut B. Antonio fecerant." St. Francis of Assisa received a dreadful flogging from the devil the very first night he came to Rome, which caused him to quit that city forthwith. Abbe Boileau's remarks on this circumstance savour not a little of impiety and freethinking, for he says, "It is not unlikely that, having met with a colder reception than he judged his sanctity entitled him to, he thought proper to decamp immediately, and when he returned to his convent told the above story to his brother monks." Howbeit, Abbe Boileau is no authority, and it is to be feared that, partaking of the satirical disposition of his brother, he sacrificed piety to wit; for it is well known, beyond the power of sceptic doubts, that the aforesaid saint's assertion cannot possibly be impugned by proper believers. His power over the fiery elements was established; whereby he possessed the faculty of curing erysipelas, honoured by the appellation of St. Anthony's fire. In the like manner St. Hubert cured hydrophobia, and St. John the epilepsy.
It is, however, pleasing to know that it was not always that the beatified succumbed to these Satanic pranks, and many instances are recorded of the devil's being worsted in these sacrilegious amusements, as fully appears in the history of the blessed Cornelia Juliana, in whose room, one day, says her history, "the other nuns heard a prodigious noise, which turned out to be a strife she had had with the devil, whom, after having laid hold of him, she fustigated most unmercifully; then, having him upon the ground, she trampled upon him with her foot, and ridiculed him in the most bitter manner (_lacerabat sarcasmis_)." This occurrence is incontrovertible, being affirmed by that learned and pious Jesuit, Bartholomew Fisen.