The chips of a gallows on which several persons had been hanged, when worn in a bag round the neck, would cure the ague. A stone with a hole in it, suspended at the head of the bed, would effectually stop the nightmare; hence it was called a hag-stone, as it prevents the troublesome witches from sitting upon the sleeper’s stomach. The same amulet tied to the key of a stable-door, deterred witches from riding horses over the country.

Rickety children were cured by being drawn through a cleft tree, which was afterwards bound up, and as the split wood united, the child acquired strength. Creeping through a perforated stone to cure various disorders was a Druidical rite, still practised in the East. In the parish of Marden there is a stone with a hole in it, fourteen inches in diameter, through which children are drawn for the rickets; and, in the North, infants are made to pass through a hole cut in a groaning cheese the day of their christening.

Second sight, which, as an hereditary faculty, was deemed a malady, was cured in the Isle of Man, according to Mr. Aubrey’s account, by baptizing a child upon the first sight of its head. This ceremony exempts the succeeding generation from the troublesome gift.

It is a melancholy reflection that, at various periods, impostors have impiously called in Scriptural aid to promote their sordid or ambitious views. Chiromancers have quoted the Bible in support of their doctrines and adduced the following lines of Job,—“He sealeth up the hand of every man, that all men may know his works:” while, in the like manner, the Holy Inquisition of Spain and Portugal justified their atrocities on the score of the parable of the marriage of the king’s son, in the 22nd of St. Matthew.

Unlawful cures, as they were called, being thus anathematized, lawful remedies were resorted to, and the patient was first ordered to pray with due devotion before he took his physic; or, as Burton observes, not one without the other, but both together; for, as he adds, to pray alone, and reject ordinary means, is to do like him in Æsop, that, when his cart was stalled, lay flat on his back, and cried out “Help, Hercules!” However, Hyperius maintains that no physicians can hope for success unless “with a true faith they call upon God and teach their patients to do the like.” Comineus, when he addressed the Christian princes after the overthrow of Charles of Burgundy, bade them “first pray with all submission and penitency, confess their sins, and then take physic.”

Another question of importance that led to much controversy was, whether it were lawful to seek the aid of the saints; the learned Burton’s remarks on this controverted point are so curious that they are worth relating. “They (the papists) have a proper saint for almost every peculiar infirmity: for poisons, gout, agues, Petronella; St. Romanus, for such as are possessed; St. Vitus for madmen, &c.; and as, of old, Pliny reckons up gods for all diseases. All affections of the mind were heretofore accounted gods: Love and Sorrow, Virtue, Honour, Liberty, Contumely, Impudency, had their temples; Tempests, Seasons, Crepitus Ventris, Dea Vacuna, Dea Cloacina. Varro reckons up thirty thousand gods; Lucian makes Podagra, the gout, a goddess, and assigns her priests and ministers. ’Tis the same devil still, called heretofore, Apollo, Mars, Venus, &c.; the same Jupiter, and those bad angels, are now worshipped and adored by the name of St. Sebastian, St. Barbara, &c.; and our Lady succeeds Venus in many offices; and God often winks at these impostures, because they forsake his word, and betake themselves to the devil, as they do, that seek after holy water, crosses,” &c.

Amidst this violent denunciation against popery and devilment, evil spirits and saints, it is somewhat singular to find a spirit of anomalous perversity which justifies suicide to rid ourselves of disease and suffering; and these very sanctimonious censors quote ancient and modern authorities to sanction a practice which every Christian must condemn. Let us pursue the disquisition of our learned bookworm Burton:—“Another doubt is made by philosophers, whether it be lawful for a man in such extremity of pain and grief to make away himself, and how those men that do so are to be censured. The Platonists approve of it, that it is lawful in such cases upon a necessity. Plotinus (L. de Beatitud.) and Socrates himself defend it (in Plato’s Phædon): If any man labour of an incurable disease, he may despatch himself, if it be to his good. Epictetus and Seneca say, Quamcunque veram esse viam ad libertatem;—any way is allowable that leads to liberty. Let us give God thanks no man is compelled to live against his will. Quid ad hominem claustra, carcer, custodia? liberum ostium habet. Death is always ready at hand: Vides illum precipitem locum, illud flumen? There is liberty at hand. Effugia cervitutis et doloris sunt, as that Laconian lad cast himself headlong, Non serviam, aiebat puer; to be freed of misery. Wherefore hath our mother earth brought out poisons (saith Pliny) in so great a quantity, but that men in distress might make away themselves? which kings of old had ever in readiness, ad incerta fortunæ venenum sub custode promptum. Many worthy men and women, quorum memoria celebratur in ecclesiâ, sayeth Leminctius, killed themselves to save their chastity and honour, when Rome was taken. Jerome vindicates the same, and Ambrose commendeth Pelagia for so doing. Eusebius admired a Roman matron for the same fact, to save herself from the lust of Maxentius the tyrant. Adelhelmus, the Abbot of Malmesbury, calls them, beatas virgines quæ sic, &c. Sir Thomas More, in his Utopia, commends voluntary death if one be sibi aut aliis molestus; especially if to live be a torment to him, let him free himself with his own hand from this tedious life, or from a prison, or suffer himself to be freed by others.” However, be it said in justice to our worthy Burton, he condemns this practice as “a false and pagan position, founded in prophane stoical paradoxes and wicked examples;” and although he denounces most fulminating anathemas on papists, he concludes by saying, “we ought not to be rash and rigorous in our censures, as some are; Charity will judge and hope best; God be merciful unto us all!”

But why should we marvel at the credulity and superstition of our forefathers, when we daily observe equal absurdities? Fanaticism and bigotry will ever strive to speculate on human weakness, and endeavour to surround with impenetrable mists every rebel to their power who gropes for the shrine of reason and of truth. Johanna Southcote had her votaries, and Prince Hohenlohe is still considered by many a pious person, as a vicarious instrument of divine mercy. No miraculous recovery recorded in the dark ages can surpass the tenebral absurdity of the following relation of one of his cures:

Miss O’Connor was a nun in a convent near Chelmsford, and in December 1820, being about thirty years old, was suddenly attacked by a violent pain in the right hand, which extended with much swelling and inflammation up the arm. The whole limb became red, swollen, extremely painful, and entirely useless. Every remedy, both topical and directed to the system, was tried in vain for a year and a half. There was no suppuration, nor any formation of pus; but the malady continued obdurate, and yielded to no application. The resources of the flesh having manifestly failed, Mrs. Gerard, the worthy superior, very properly betook herself to those of the spirit. She made a request through a friend to Prince Hohenlohe to assist the patient in this her extreme case; when the following precious document, which it would be impious to translate into heretical English, was received:

Pour la Religeuse Novice d’Angleterre.