History of the Warfare of Science with Theology in Christendom

by Andrew Dickson White

(343) For authorities regarding this development of scientific truth
and mercy in antiquity, see especially Krafft-Ebing, Lehrbuch des
Psychiatrie, Stuttgart, 1888, p. 40 and the pages following; Trelat,
Recherches Historiques sur la Folie, Paris, 1839; Semelaigne,
L'Alienation mentale dans l'Antiquitie, Paris, 1869; Dagron, Des
Alienes, Paris, 1875; also Calmeil, De la Folie, Sprenger, and
especially Isensee, Geschichte der Medicin, Berlin, 1840.

This evolution of divine truth was interrupted by theology. There set into the early Church a current of belief which was destined to bring all these noble acquisitions of science and religion to naught, and, during centuries, to inflict tortures, physical and mental, upon hundreds of thousands of innocent men and women—a belief which held its cruel sway for nearly eighteen centuries; and this belief was that madness was mainly or largely possession by the devil.

This idea of diabolic agency in mental disease had grown luxuriantly in all the Oriental sacred literatures. In the series of Assyrian mythological tablets in which we find those legends of the Creation, the Fall, the Flood, and other early conceptions from which the Hebrews so largely drew the accounts wrought into the book of Genesis, have been discovered the formulas for driving out the evil spirits which cause disease. In the Persian theology regarding the struggle of the great powers of good and evil this idea was developed to its highest point. From these and other ancient sources the Jews naturally received this addition to their earlier view: the Mocker of the Garden of Eden became Satan, with legions of evil angels at his command; and the theory of diabolic causes of mental disease took a firm place in our sacred books. Such cases in the Old Testament as the evil spirit in Saul, which we now see to have been simply melancholy—and, in the New Testament, the various accounts of the casting out of devils, through which is refracted the beautiful and simple story of that power by which Jesus of Nazareth soothed perturbed minds by his presence or quelled outbursts of madness by his words, give examples of this. In Greece, too, an idea akin to this found lodgment both in the popular belief and in the philosophy of Plato and Socrates; and though, as we have seen, the great leaders in medical science had taught with more or less distinctness that insanity is the result of physical disease, there was a strong popular tendency to attribute the more troublesome cases of it to hostile spiritual influence.(344)

(344) For the exorcism against disease found at Ninevah, see G. Smith,
Delitzsch's German translation, p. 34. For a very interesting passage
regarding the representaion of a diabolic personage on a Babylonian
bronze, and for a very frank statement regarding the transmission of
ideas regarding Satanic power to our sacred books, see Sayce, Herodotus,
appendix ii, p. 393. It is, indeed, extremely doubtful whether Plato
himself or his contemporaries knew anything of evil demons, this
conception probably coming into the Greek world, as into the Latin,
with the Oriental influences that began to prevail about the time of the
birth of Christ; but to the early Christians, a demon was a demon, and
Plato's, good or bad, were pagan, and therefore devils. The Greek word
"epilepsy" is itself a survival of the old belief, fossilized in a word,
since its literal meaning refers to the SEIZURE of the patient by evil
spirits.

From all these sources, but especially from our sacred books and the writings of Plato, this theory that mental disease is caused largely or mainly by Satanic influence passed on into the early Church. In the apostolic times no belief seems to have been more firmly settled. The early fathers and doctors in the following age universally accepted it, and the apologists generally spoke of the power of casting out devils as a leading proof of the divine origin of the Christian religion.

This belief took firm hold upon the strongest men. The case of St. Gregory the Great is typical. He was a pope of exceedingly broad mind for his time, and no one will think him unjustly reckoned one of the four Doctors of the Western Church. Yet he solemnly relates that a nun, having eaten some lettuce without making the sign of the cross, swallowed a devil, and that, when commanded by a holy man to come forth, the devil replied: "How am I to blame? I was sitting on the lettuce, and this woman, not having made the sign of the cross, ate me along with it."(345)

(345) For a striking statement of the Jewish belief in diabolical
interference, see Josephus, De Bello Judaico, vii, 6, iii; also his
Antiquities, vol. viii, Whiston's translation. On the "devil cast out,"
in Mark ix, 17-29, as undoubtedly a case of epilepsy, see Cherullier,
Essai sur l'Epilepsie; also Maury, art. Demonique in the Encyclopedie
Moderne. In one text, at least, the popular belief is perfectly shown as
confounding madness and possession: "He hath a devil, and is mad," John
x, 20. Among the multitude of texts, those most relied upon were Matthew
viii, 28, and Luke x, 17; and for the use of fetiches in driving out
evil spirits, the account of the cures wrought by touching the garments
of St. Paul in Acts xix, 12. On the general subject, see authorities
already given, and as a typical passage, Tertullian, Ad. Scap., ii.
For the very gross view taken by St. Basil, see Cudworth, Intellectual
System, vol. ii, p. 648; also Archdeacon Farrar's Life of Christ. For
the case related by St. Gregory the Great with comical details, see the
Exempla of Archbishop Jacques de Vitrie, edited by Prof. T. F. Crane,
of Cornell University, p. 59, art. cxxx. For a curious presentation
of Greek views, see Lelut, Le demon Socrate, Paris, 1856; and for
the transmission of these to Christianity, see the same, p. 201 and
following.

As a result of this idea, the Christian Church at an early period in its existence virtually gave up the noble conquests of Greek and Roman science in this field, and originated, for persons supposed to be possessed, a regular discipline, developed out of dogmatic theology. But during the centuries before theology and ecclesiasticism had become fully dominant this discipline was, as a rule, gentle and useful. The afflicted, when not too violent, were generally admitted to the exercises of public worship, and a kindly system of cure was attempted, in which prominence was given to holy water, sanctified ointments, the breath or spittle of the priest, the touching of relics, visits to holy places, and submission to mild forms of exorcism. There can be no doubt that many of these things, when judiciously used in that spirit of love and gentleness and devotion inherited by the earlier disciples from "the Master," produced good effects in soothing disturbed minds and in aiding their cure.

Among the thousands of fetiches of various sorts then resorted to may be named, as typical, the Holy Handkerchief of Besancon. During many centuries multitudes came from far and near to touch it; for, it was argued, if touching the garments of St. Paul at Ephesus had cured the diseased, how much more might be expected of a handkerchief of the Lord himself!

With ideas of this sort was mingled a vague belief in medical treatment, and out of this mixture were evolved such prescriptions as the following: