HEALERS
"This is an art Which doth mend nature—but The art itself is nature."—Winter's Tale.
"Some are molested by Phantasie; so some, again, by Fancy alone and a good conceit, are as easily recovered.... All the world knows there is no virtue in charms, &c., but a strong conceit and opinion alone, as Pomponatius holds, which forceth a motion of the humours, spirits, and blood, which takes away the cause of the malady from the parts affected. The like we may say of the magical effects, superstitious cures, and such as are done by montebanks and wizards. As by wicked incredulity many are hurt (so saith Wierus), we find, in our experience, by the same means, many are relieved."
In discussing the subject of healers one must keep in mind the fact that the healers of the first millennium of our era were almost wholly exorcists, on account of the prevailing theory, and even after that time exorcism, on the one hand, and the faith in relics and shrines on the other, formed the principal means of cure. It is therefore difficult to differentiate the other healers from the exorcists, and to decide whether certain cures were performed by healers or by relics.
Another difficulty confronts us. Many authentic cures have probably been wrought by saints, but unfortunately most of those performed by them have little contemporary evidence to support them, but rest on the very shaky testimony of tradition. White,[57] in a keen analysis, shows how the legends of miraculous cures have grown around great benefactors of humanity, taking Francis Xavier as a pertinent example.
We must also remember, however, that what are called miracles formed part of the evidence which led to the canonization of a saint, and a large number of healing miracles was usually included in the list. The procedure of the court connected with the canonization was conducted with the greatest rigor. Sitting as examiners were learned and upright men from all nations, and the witness must be irreproachable as far as character was concerned. The two witnesses required for each miracle must testify concerning the nature of the disease and the cure, and sign the deposition after it had been read to them. Following that, the examiners sifted the evidence in a hypercritical way and emphasized the weak places. Benedict XIV justly said: "The degree of proof required is the same as that required for a criminal case, since the cause of religion and piety is that of the commonweal." Some consideration must be thus given to this testimony, but the value of it depends on the number of years elapsing after the cures were performed and the direct connection of the witnesses with the cure in question.
The craving for the miraculous in bodily cures prejudiced many historians, especially when the desire to emphasize the importance of the church was uppermost in the minds of the writers. We can consider, though, the material at hand, always recognizing that marvellous cures can be performed when the authority of the physician has all the weight of an infallible church behind it and the patient is credulous. We must notice in this connection that the healers up to the time of the magnetizers depended on religious ceremonies for their efficiency, with the exception of those who endorsed and propagated "sympathetic cures."
As we well know, the first healing among Christians was done by Jesus himself and the apostles; after this for two centuries the exorcists performed most of the cures. We have accounts of one non-Christian healer whose cures have probably been handed down to us on account of his exalted position. Tacitus and Suetonius describe how Vespasian (9-79) healed in at least two cases. The first was a blind man well known in Alexandria. In the second case the historians disagree; one says it was a leg and the other a hand which was diseased and cured. According to the story, the god Serapis revealed to the patients that they would be cured by the emperor. Tacitus says that Vespasian did not believe in his own power and it was only after much persuasion that he was induced to try the experiment.[58]
The Christians, however, were not to be outdone as healers. Irenæus (130-202) gives a long list of infirmities which were cured by the representatives of the church, and in writing, about the year 180, draws a comparison between them and the heretics. "For they [the heretics] can neither confer sight on the blind nor hearing on the deaf, nor chase away all sorts of demons (except those which are sent into others by themselves—if they can ever do as much as this): nor can they cure the weak, or the lame, or the paralytic; or those who are distressed in any other part of the body, as has often been done in regard to bodily infirmity. Nor can they furnish effective remedies for those external accidents which may occur. And so far are they from being able to raise the dead, as the Lord raised them (and the Apostles did by means of prayer, as has been frequently done in the brotherhood on account of some necessity—the entire church in that particular locality entreating with much fasting and prayer, the spirit of the dead man has returned, and he has been bestowed in answer to the prayers of the saints—) that they do not even believe that this could possibly be done." He further says: "Others again heal the sick by laying their hands upon them, and they are made whole. Yea, moreover, as I have said, the dead even have been raised up, and remained among us for many years."
The great Origen (185-254), writing when he would be certain to have his words most severely criticised, says, after referring to the miracles of the apostles: "And there are still preserved among Christians traces of that Holy Spirit which appeared in the form of a dove. They expel evil spirits, and perform many cures, and foresee certain events, according to the will of the Logos." In another of his works we find the following: "For they [the Jews] have no longer prophets or miracles, traces of which to a considerable extent are still found among Christians, and some of them more remarkable than ever have existed among the Jews; and these we ourselves have witnessed."
As has already been seen, different methods were used by various healers, and we must not omit a brief account of healing by unction. The very definite instructions laid down in the Epistle of James were evidently strictly carried out in the early church, but the first definite mention of anointing after that made by Mark and James is found in the writings of Tertullian (160-220). He speaks of the pagan emperor Severus being graciously mindful of Christians: "For he sought out the Christian Proculus, surnamed Torpacion, the steward of Euhodias, and in gratitude for his having once cured him by anointing, he kept him in his palace till the day of his death."[59]
If the Christians anointed pagans it is legitimate to suppose that they also anointed fellow-Christians, and that if this was performed without special mention about the end of the second century, it must have been common from the time of James to that period. It is probable that during the first seven centuries of our era the practice of praying with the sick and anointing them with oil never ceased. There may be some objection to our considering the subject of anointing with oil as purely mental healing, but according to the instructions given for its use there was scarcely enough oil employed to be of benefit otherwise, and especially as food. Mental healing, then, is the rationale of the cures.
Puller[60] gives us three of the earliest incidents of healing by unction, the original accounts all being written by contemporaries and friends. Some time between the years 335 and 355, St. Parthenius, Bishop of Lampsacus, anointed a man who was described as "altogether withered." The account says: "Then getting up, he gently and gradually softened the man's body with the holy oil, and straightway made him to rise up healed." Refinus, a well-known writer and an eye-witness to this healing, tells of St. Macarius of Alexandria and four monks restoring, about the year 375, "a man, withered in all his limbs and especially in his feet." He says: "But when he had been anointed all over by them with oil in the Name of the Lord, immediately the soles of his feet were strengthened. And when they said to him, 'In the name of Jesus Christ ... arise, and stand on thy feet, and return to thy house,' immediately arising and leaping, he blessed God." Some years later, Palladius, the friend of St. Chrysostom, writes of another of St. Macarius's cures which he witnessed: "But at the time that we were there, there was brought to him from Thessalonica a noble and wealthy virgin, who during many years had been suffering from paralysis. And when she had been presented to him, and had been thrown down before the cell of the blessed man, he, being moved with compassion for her, with his own hands anointed her during twenty days with holy oil, pouring out prayers for her to the Lord, and so sent her back cured to her own city."
The Sacramentary of Serapion, Bishop of Thmuis, Egypt, written about 350, provides for the consecration of bread and water, as well as oil, for healing; and in a prayer concerning oil and water there contained, the following words are used: "Grant healing power upon these creatures, that every fever and every demon and every sickness may depart through the drinking and the anointing, and that the partaking of these creatures may be a healing medicine and a medicine of complete soundness in the Name of the Only begotten, Jesus Christ," etc. The Apostolic Constitutions of about 375 contain a prayer of consecration used over oil and water brought by members of the congregation, as follows: "Do thou now sanctify this water and this oil, through Christ, in the name of him that offered or of her that offered, and give to these things a power of producing health and of driving away diseases, of putting to flight demons, of dispersing every snare through Christ our Hope," etc.
About 390, St. Jerome wrote a life of St. Hilarion (291-371) in which the latter is thus set forth as a healer: "But lo! that parched and sandy district, after the rain had fallen, unexpectedly produced such vast numbers of serpents and poisonous animals that many, who were bitten, would have died at once if they had not run to Hilarion. He therefore blessed some oil, with which all the husbandmen and shepherds touched their wounds and found an infallible cure."
Oil was not always employed for anointing, but might be drunk by the sick, and this use of it was made in healing a girl, by St. Martin of Tours, about 395. St. Germain, Bishop of Auxerre (418-448), when the physicians were powerless during a plague, blessed some oil and anointed the swollen jaws of those who were sick, whereupon they recovered; and St. Genevieve of Paris, who died about 502, used to heal the sick with oil.
In Bede's biography of St. Cuthbert we find an instance of this saint healing a girl about the year 687. A young woman was troubled for a whole year with an intolerable pain in her head and side which the physicians were unable to relieve. Cuthbert "in pity anointed the wretched woman with oil. From that time she began to get better, and was well in a few days."
At the beginning of the eighth century the anointing of the sick began to decline, largely on account of the changed attitude of the church. At this time this ceremony began to be used for spiritual ills rather than for bodily diseases. Before long, anointing was monopolized by the church for spiritual advantage, and is still so used by the Roman Catholic Church in the ceremony of Extreme Unction.
In returning to the more direct methods of healing, we find that St. Gregory of Nazianzus (329-390) confirmed the reports of the marvellous cures wrought by the martyrs, Cosmo and Damian, who were beheaded in 303. During the life of Gregory of Tours (538-594), the healing efficacy of the saints' relics was rivalled by the miraculous aid rendered to the sick by St. Julian. The solitude of the holy anchorite was interrupted by the persistent and despairing clamor of the sick to whom he gave health. The great Turonese pontiff also tells us that one day Aredius, traversing Paris, found Chilperic prostrate with a grievous fever. The royal sufferer sought the saint's prayers as an irresistible curative.
The daughter of a Teutonic nobleman was brought to St. Gall (556-640) seriously ill with an incurable disorder, presenting the livid appearance of an animated cadaver. The saint approached the unconscious invalid as she reclined on her mother's knee, and assuming the bended attitude of invocation by her side, made a fervent prayer and evoked the demon producing the sickness to instantly depart. The effort was all that was desired. Shortly after this, about the year 648, St. Vardrille, the founder of Fontanelle, exercised his remedial potency in healing the palsied arm of a forester whose indiscreet zeal had induced him to transfix the sainted abbot with a lance.
We have rather a strange case from the beginning of the seventh century, where the moral and mental element seems to have been strong. Abbe Eustasius returning from Rome, whither a mission of Clothair II had called him, was urgently summoned by the sorrowful parent of a Burgundian maiden, in the last agonies of a frightful malady, to appear and cure the moribund daughter. On answering the call he found that the child had in her youth been consecrated by the vows of chastity, and on account of this shrunk from a marriage sanctioned by her parents. Eustasius reproached the father for his efforts to violate the solemn obligations of the0 virgin, and upon obtaining a formal renunciation of further attempts to coerce her into matrimony, the saint, by personal intercession, obtained a complete cure.
It was found that certain remedies in the hands of certain saints were efficacious, but they did not have the same power if administered by others. For instance, Franciscus de Paula succored an anchylosed joint by the energetic surgery of three dried figs which he gave the suffering patient to eat. Similarly, a maiden grieving under a cancerous disease which surgical skill had frankly admitted was incurable, was restored to robust vigor by the administering of some mild herbs. This savored rather too much of medicine, and other holy healers used more orthodox means. Hugo the Holy abstracted a serpent from the infirm body of a woman by the use of holy water, and Coleta, the saintess, awakened from the dreamless slumber of death more than one hundred slain infants by the efficacy of a cross.
Even such a serious disorder as leprosy was said to have been healed by saintly care. St. Martin, who gave special attention to sufferers with this disease, cured a leper by kissing him, we are told. Toward the middle of the sixth century, St. Radegonde displayed her faith by first washing the repulsive sores and afterward applying her pure lips to them. On one occasion an insolent leper asserted that unless his putrefying limbs were kissed by this candidate for canonical honors he could not be cured.[61]
Bede (673-735), the great English historian, in his careful way tells us of cures performed by St. John of Beverly during the first part of the eighth century. According to this record, St. John cured a dumb youth, who had never spoken a word, by the sign of the cross on his tongue, and he afterward had "ready utterance." He used holy water on a woman so that, like Peter's wife's mother, she arose and ministered to them, healed a friend who was injured by being thrown from a horse, cured a nun of a grievous complaint, and restored a servant, an account of which I shall give in Bede's words:
"The bishop went in and saw him in a dying condition, and the coffin by his side, whilst all present were in tears. He said a prayer, blessed him, and on going out, as is the usual expression of comforters, said, 'May you soon recover.' Afterwards when they were sitting at table, the lad sent to his lord, to desire he would let him have a cup of wine, because he was thirsty. The earl, rejoicing that he could drink, sent him a cup of wine, blessed by the bishop; which, as soon as he had drunk, he immediately got up, and shaking off his late infirmity, dressed himself, and going in to the bishop, saluted him and the other guests, saying, 'He would also eat and be merry with them.' They ordered him to sit down with them at the entertainment, rejoicing at his recovery. He sat down, ate and drank merrily, and behaved himself like the rest of the company; and living many years after, continued in the same state of health."[62]
Skipping a few centuries, we find that Bernard of Clairvaux (1091-1153), the most prominent figure of the twelfth century, performed an abundance of cures, as his biographers testify. "The cures were so many that the witnesses themselves were unable to detail them all. At Doningen, near Rheinfeld, where the first Sunday of Advent was spent, Bernard cured, in one day, nine blind persons, ten who were deaf or dumb, and eighteen lame or paralytic. On the following Wednesday, at Schaffhausen, the number of miracles increased."[63] Concerning these cures Morison says: "Thirty-six miraculous cures in one day would seem to have been the largest stretch of supernatural power which Bernard permitted to himself. The halt, the blind, the deaf, and the dumb were brought from all parts to be touched by Bernard. The patient was presented to him, whereupon he made the sign of the cross over the part affected, and the cure was perfect."[64]
The following case in which details are more fully given is of much interest: "At Toulouse, in the church of St. Saturninus, in which we were lodged, was a certain regular canon, named John. John had kept his bed for seven months, and was so reduced that his death was expected daily. His legs were so shrunken that they were scarcely larger than a child's arms. He was quite unable to rise to satisfy the wants of nature. At last his brother canons refused to tolerate his presence any longer among them, and thrust him out into the neighbouring village. When the poor creature heard of Bernard's proximity, he implored to be taken to him. Six men, therefore, carrying him as he lay in bed, brought him into a room close to that in which he was lodged. The abbot heard him confess his sins, and listened to his entreaties to be restored to health. Bernard mentally prayed to God: 'Behold, O Lord, they seek for a sign, and our words avail nothing, unless they be confirmed with signs following.' He then blessed him and left the chamber, and so did we all. In that very hour the sick man arose from his couch, and running after Bernard, kissed his feet with a devotion which cannot be imagined by any one who did not see it. One of the canons, meeting him, nearly fainted with fright, thinking he saw his ghost."
St. Francis of Assisi (1182-1226), the great founder of the Franciscan Order, was not less famed for his miracles of healing than for his Christ-like life and his stigmata. Among those cured were epileptics, paralytics, and the blind. A typical case of cure by this humble saint is given to show his method and its results: "Once when Francis the Saint of God was making a long circuit through various regions to preach the gospel of God's kingdom he came to a city called Toscanella. Here ... he was entertained by a knight of that same city whose only son was a cripple and weak in all his body. Though the child was of tender years he had passed the age of weaning; but he still remained in a cradle. The boy's father, seeing the man of God to be endued with such holiness, humbly fell at his feet and besought him to heal his son. Francis, deeming himself to be unprofitable and unworthy of such power and grace, for a long time refused to do it. At last, conquered by the urgency of the knight's entreaties, after offering up prayer, he laid his hand on the boy, blessed him, and lifted him up. And in the sight of all, the boy straightway arose whole in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, and began to walk hither and thither about the house."[65]
St. Thomas of Hereford (1222-1282) was the last Englishman to be officially canonized. The extant documents of his canonization record no less than four hundred and twenty-nine miracles alleged to have been performed by him. The following case of resurrection from the dead occurred, however, twenty-one years after his death. I quote the account in full:
"On the 6th of September, 1303, Roger, aged two years and three months, the son of Gervase, one of the warders of Conway Castle, managed to crawl out of bed in the night and tumble off a bridge, a distance of twenty-eight feet; he was not discovered till the next morning, when his mother found him half naked and quite dead upon a hard stone at the bottom of the ditch, where there was no water or earth, but simply the rock, which had been quarried to build the castle. Simon Waterford, the vicar, who had christened the child, John de Bois, John Guffe, all sworn witnesses, took their oaths on the Gospel that they saw and handled the child dead. The King's Crowners (Stephen Ganny and William Nottingham) were presently called and went down into the moat. They found the child's body cold and stiff, and white with hoar-frost, stark dead, indeed. While the Crowners, as their office requires, began to write what they had seen, one John Syward, a near neighbour, came down and gently handled the child's body all over, and finding it as dead as ever any, made the sign of the cross upon its forehead, and earnestly prayed after this manner: 'Blessed St. Thomas Cantelope, you by whom God has wrought innumerable miracles, show mercy unto this little infant, and obtain he may return to life again. If this grace be granted he shall visit your holy sepulchre and render humble thanks to God and you for the favor.' No sooner had Syward spoken these words, than the child began to move his head and right arm a little, and forthwith life and vigor came back again into every part of his body. The Crowners, and many others who were standing by, saw the miracle, and in that very place, with great admiration, returned humble thanks to God and St. Thomas for what they had seen. The mother, now overjoyed, took the child in her arms, and went that day to hear mass in a church not far off, where, upon her knees, she recognized with a grateful heart that she owed the life of her infant to God and St. Thomas. Her devotion ended, she returned home, and the child, feeling no pain at all, walked as he was wont to do up and down the house, though a little scar still continued in one cheek, which after a few days, quite vanished away."[66]
St. Catharine of Siena (1347-1380) obtained considerable reputation as a healer, principally, however, in the line of exorcism; this, though, meant the cure of any disease. Like St. Paul, she was one of a large number of saints who healed others but did not cure herself; she died at the age of thirty-three. A woman was presented to the immaculate saintess for prompt remedy; by the virtue of divine magic a demon was forced from each part of her body where he had taken refuge, but resisting absolute ejectment from this carnal abode, made a desperate conflict in the throat, where by uninterrupted scratches he reproduced himself in the form of an abscess.
On another occasion the saint was more successful. Laurentia, a maiden of youthful years, placed by her father within the sheltering walls of a cloister, to assume ultimately monastic vows, was quickly captured by an errant demon. As an irrefutable demonstration of the impure origin of her infirmity, an annalist asserts, this spirit promptly answered in elegant Latinity all questions propounded; but the strongest confirmation of this belief was the miraculous ability which enabled her to disclose the most secret thoughts of others, and divulge the mysterious affairs of her associates. St. Catharine at length liberated the suffering female from her diabolical tenant. More extraordinary claims are made for her. It is said that she stayed a plague at Varazze, and healed a throng at Pisa.[67]
Raimondo da Capua, her faithful friend and constant companion, wrote her biography and gives us different instances of remarkable cures performed by her. For example, he tells us that Father Matthew of Cenni, the director of the Hospital of la Misericordia, was stricken when the plague was raging in Siena in 1373, and of his marvellous cure.
Perhaps we had better allow him to tell of Catharine's power in his own words:
"One day on entering, I saw some of the brothers carrying Father Matthew like a corpse from the chapel to his room; his face was livid, and his strength was so far gone that he could not answer me when I spoke to him. 'Last night,' the brothers said, 'about seven o'clock, while ministering to a dying person, he perceived himself stricken, and fell at once into extreme weakness.' I helped to put him on his bed; ... he spoke afterwards, and said that he felt as if his head was separated into four parts. I sent for Dr. Senso, his physician; Dr. Senso declared to me that my friend had the plague, and that every symptom announced the approach of death. 'I fear,' he said, 'that the House of Mercy (Misericordia) is about to be deprived of its good director.' I asked if medical art could not save him. 'We shall see,' replied Senso, 'but I have only a very faint hope; his blood is too much poisoned.' I withdrew, praying God to save the life of this good man. Catharine, however, had heard of the illness of Father Matthew, whom she loved sincerely, and she lost no time in repairing to him. The moment she entered the room, she cried, with a cheerful voice, 'Get up, Father Matthew, get up! This is not a time to be lying idly in bed.' Father Matthew roused himself, sat up on his bed, and finally stood on his feet. Catharine retired; and the moment she was leaving the house, I entered it, and ignorant of what had happened, and believing my friend to be still at the point of death, my grief urged me to say, 'Will you allow a person so dear to us, and so useful to others, to die?' She appeared annoyed at my words, and replied, 'In what terms do you address me? Am I like God, to deliver a man from death?' But I, beside myself with sorrow, pleaded, 'Speak in that way to others if you will, but not to me; for I know your secrets; and I know you obtain from God whatever you ask in faith.' Then Catharine bowed her head, and smiled just a little; after a few minutes she lifted up her head and looked at me full in the face, her countenance radiant with joy, and said, 'Well, let us take courage; he will not die this time,' and she passed on. At these words I banished all fear, for I understood that she had obtained some favor from heaven. I went straight to my sick friend, whom I found sitting on the side of his bed. 'Do you know,' he cried, 'what she has done for me?' He then stood up and narrated joyfully what I have here written. To make the matter more sure, the table was laid, and Father Matthew seated himself at it with us; they served him with vegetables and other light food, and he, who an hour before could not open his mouth, ate with us, chatting and laughing gaily."
None of Catharine's biographers fail to relate wonderful instances of her healing power.[68]
Martin Luther (1483-1546), the great leader of the Reformation, and St. Francis Xavier (1506-1552), the leader of the Counter-Reformation, were both healers, so it is said. Luther's cure of his friend and helper, Melanchthon, by prayer for and encouragement of the patient, is well known. Xavier's miracles were legion, but have been somewhat discredited by a recent author.[69] I add but one example. "A certain Tomé Paninguem, a fencing-master, says, I knew Antonio de Miranda, who was a servant of the Father Francis, and assisted him when saying Mass. He told me that when going one night on business to Combature, he was bitten by a venomous serpent. He immediately fell down as though paralyzed and became speechless. He was found thus lying unconscious. Informed of the fact, Father Francis ordered Antonio to be carried to him: and when he was laid down speechless and senseless, the Father prayed with all those present. The prayer finished, he put a little saliva with his finger on the bitten place on Antonio's foot, and at the same moment, Antonio recovered his senses, his memory and his speech, and felt himself healed. I have since heard details of this occurrence from the mouths of several eye-witnesses."[70]
If we accept Görres's account,[71] the most remarkable instance of curative power possessed by a saint is that afforded by St. Sauveur of Horta (1520-1567). Outside of this one work I have been unable to find any reference to this saint, so I will give a sketch of his apparently remarkable life. He was born in Catalonia, and received the first part of his name from a presentiment of his sponsors that he was to be a savior of men, and the second part because he entered the monastery at Horta. A short time after he finished his novitiate, people in some way got the idea that he had a wonderful gift of healing, and soon patients came to him in crowds from all parts of the country. He continued healing for several years. At one time during the feast of the Annunciation he cured six thousand persons, and at another time he found ten thousand patients, from viceroy to laborer, waiting for him at Valencia before the convent of St. Marie de Jesus. Notwithstanding his apparently great success, his brother monks complained to the bishop concerning the dirt and disorder caused by the crowds, and after a reprimand he was sent at midnight to the monastery at Reus, where he was known as Alphonse and assigned to the kitchen. In spite of this, crowds continued to come and he was transferred from monastery to monastery, but always with the same result—the crowd sought him to be healed. He was known as simple, open, and obedient in his relations with men, and austere toward himself. He was patient and resigned, compassionate toward the poor and sick, and full of zeal for their conversion. The number of patients he is said to have cured is incredible, and it is even said that he resuscitated three dead persons. After his death miracles were performed at his tomb. Why he was not in favor with his superiors and his brother monks is unknown; his friends say they were jealous; his enemies, that his cures were not genuine.
St. Philip Neri (1551-1595), the founder of the Oratorians, was renowned as a healer. He cured Clement VIII of gout by touching and prayer, a woman of cancer of the breast by the mere touch and assurance, a man of grievous symptoms such as loss of speech and internal pain by simply laying on of hands, and many similar and equally serious cases. The following case was counted nearly equal to a resurrection: "In 1560 Pietro Vittrici of Parma, being in the service of Cardinal Boncompagni, afterward Pope Gregory XIII, fell dangerously ill. He was given up by the physicians, and was supposed to be as good as dead. In this extremity he was visited by Philip who, as soon as he entered the sick man's room, began, as was his wont, to pray for him. He then put his hand on Pietro's forehead, and at the touch he instantly revived. In two days' time he was out of the house perfectly well and strong and went about telling people how he had been cured by Father Philip."[72]
George Fox (1624-1691), the founder of the Quakers, performed some simple cures of which he himself tells us. The most famous case was that of the cure of a lame arm by command, the account of which we take from his pen. He thus records it: "After some time I went to the meeting at Arnside where Richard Meyer was. Now he had been long lame of one of his arms; and I was moved by the Lord to say unto him, among all the people, 'Prophet Meyer stand up upon thy legs' (for he was sitting down) and he stood up and stretched out his arm that had been lame a long time, and said: 'Be it known unto all you people that this day I am healed.' But his parents could hardly believe it, but after the meeting was done, had him aside and took off his doublet; and then they saw it was true. He soon after came to Swarthmore meeting, and there declared how the Lord had healed him. But after this the Lord commanded him to go to York with a message from him; and he disobeyed the Lord; and the Lord struck him again, so that he died about three-quarters of a year after."[73] The cure evidently was not permanent.
Valentine Greatrakes (1628-1683) was born in Affane, Ireland. He was the son of an Irish gentleman, had a good education, and was a Protestant. In 1641, at the outbreak of the Irish rebellion, he fled to England, and from 1649-1656 he served under Cromwell. In 1661, after a period of melancholy derangement, he believed that God had given him power of curing "king's evil" by touching or stroking and prayer. After some success with this disease, he added to his list ague, epilepsy, convulsions, paralysis, deafness, ulcers, aches, and lameness, and for a number of years he devoted three days in every week, from 6 A. M. to 6 P. M., to the exercise of his healing gifts. The crowds which thronged around him were so great that the neighboring towns were not able to accommodate them. He thereupon left his house in the country and went to Youghal, where sick people, not only from all parts of Ireland but from England, continued to congregate in such great numbers that the magistrates were afraid they would infect the place with their diseases.
In some instances he exorcised demons; in fact, he claimed that all diseases were caused by evil spirits, and every infirmity was, with him, a case of diabolic possession. The church endeavored to prohibit his operations but without avail. He was invited to London, and, notwithstanding that an exhibition before the nobility failed, thousands flocked to his house in Lincoln's Inn Fields. In the "Miscellanies" of St. Evremond a graphic sketch is given of his work. The results of his healing are there summed up as follows:
"So great was the confidence in him, that the blind fancied they saw the light which they did not see—the deaf imagined that they heard—the lame that they walked straight, and the paralytic that they had recovered the use of their limbs. An idea of health made the sick forget for a while their maladies; and imagination, which was not less active in those merely drawn by curiosity than in the sick, gave a false view to the one class, from the desire of seeing, as it operated a false cure on the other from the strong desire of being healed. Such was the power of the Irishman over the mind, and such was the influence of the mind over the body. Nothing was spoken of in London but his prodigies; and these prodigies were supported by such great authorities that the bewildered multitude believed them almost without examination, while more enlightened people did not dare to reject them from their own knowledge."
That there were real cures, however, seems most probable. The Bishop of Dromore testifies thus from his own observation: "I have seen pains strangely fly before his hands till he had chased them out of the body; dimness cleared, and deafness cured by his touch. Twenty persons at several times, in fits of the falling sickness, were in two or three minutes brought to themselves.... Running sores of the 'King's evil' were dried up; grievous sores of many months' date in a few days healed, cancerous knots dissolved, etc." [74]
The celebrated Flamstead, the astronomer, when a lad of nineteen, went into Ireland to be touched by Greatrakes, and he testifies that he was an eyewitness of several cures, although he himself was not benefited. In a letter to Lord Conway, Greatrakes says: "The King's doctors, this day (for the confirmation of their majesties' belief), sent three out of the hospital to me, who came on crutches; but, blessed be God! they all went home well, to the admiration of all people, as well as the doctors."[75]
Several pamphlets were issued by medical men and others criticising his work, and in 1666 he published a vindication of himself entitled "A Brief Account." This contained numerous testimonials by Bishop Wilkins, Bishop Patrick, Dr. Cudworth, Dr. Whichcote, and others of distinction and intelligence. After the retirement of Greatrakes, John Leverett, a gardener, succeeded to the "manual exercise," and declared that after touching thirty or forty a day, he felt so much goodness go out of him that he was fatigued as if he had been digging eight roods of ground.
About the same time that Greatrakes was working among the people of London, an Italian enthusiast, named Francisco Bagnone, was operating in Italy with equal success. He had only to touch the sick with his hands, or sometimes with a relic, to accomplish cures which astonished the people.
Hardly less famous than Greatrakes was Johann Jacob Gassner (1727-1779). He was born at Bratz, near Bludenz, and became Roman Catholic priest at Klösterle. He believed that most diseases were caused by evil spirits which could be exorcised by conjuration and prayer. He began practising and soon attracted attention. In 1774 he received a call from the bishop at Ratisbon to Ellwangen, where by the mere word of command, "Cesset" (Give over), he cured the lame and blind, but especially those who were afflicted with epilepsy and convulsions, and who were thereby supposed to be obsessed. His cures were not permanent in some cases, and before he died he lost power and respect.
[57] A. D. White, History of the Warfare of Science with Theology, II, pp. 5-22.
[58] W. E. H. Lecky, History of European Morals, I, pp. 347 f.
[59] P. Dearmer, Body and Soul, pp. 252 f. I am indebted to this excellent book for my material on the subject of Unction, as well as for many other quotations in this chapter.
[60] F. W. Puller, Anointing of the Sick, pp. 155-158.
[61] G. F. Fort, History of Medical Economy During the Middle Ages, gives this and the other incidents just quoted. See pp. 155, 160, 272, 275, 327.
[62] Bede, Ecclesiastical History, bk. V, chap. V.
[63] Quoted by P. Dearmer, Body and Soul, p. 359.
[64] J. Cotter Morison, Life and Times of St. Bernard, pp. 422 and 460, for this and the following incident.
[65] Thomas of Celano, Lives of St. Francis of Assisi (trans. A. G. F. Howell).
[66] Dublin Review, January, 1876, pp. 8-10.
[67] G. F. Fort, History of Medical Economy During the Middle Ages, pp. 278 f.
[68] See J. Butler, Life of St. Catharine of Siena, for many examples.
[69] See A. D. White, History of the Warfare of Science with Theology, already referred to.
[70] Jos. Marie Cros, St. François de Xavier, Sa vie et ses lettres, II, p. 392.
[71] Görres, La mystique divine naturelle et diabolique (trans. Sainte-foi), I, pp. 470-473.
[72] P. J. Bacci, Life of St. Philip Neri (trans. Antrobus), II, p. 168.
[73] G. Fox, Journal, I, p. 103.
[74] J. Moses, Pathological Aspects of Religions, p. 188.
[75] E. Salverte, The Philosophy of Magic (trans. Thompson), II, p. 81.