Carrying a discipline constantly about one, like the above Dominic, and making an ostentatious display of it, are among the number of those characteristical circumstances which are looked upon, in Catholic Countries, as marking hypocrisy: to this notion a frequent allusion is made both in Novels and Plays; thus, the first words of Tartuffe, or the Hypocrite, in the Play of Molière which bears that name, who makes his first appearance only when the Play is somewhat advanced, are to order his Man, with a loud affected voice, to lock up his hair-cloth and discipline. However, we are not to think that all those who thus make a display of their discipline, use it with so much earnestness and perseverance as the above-mentioned Dominic the Cuirassed, or Rodolph of Eugubio; though it cannot be denied that several persons of a gloomy superstitious temper, still practise in these days mortifications of that kind with great severity; and indeed, as hath been observed in a former Note, the astonishing penances practised by Fakirs in the East Indies, which are undeniable facts, make every account of that sort appear credible to us.
If the evil arising from the above cruel practices, reached no farther than the useless sufferings which those who follow them, bring upon themselves, one might sincerely pity their infatuation; but it is a truth confirmed by experience, that superstitious exercises or mortifications like these, are seldom introduced but at the expence of other really essential obligations; and though the rigour of such mortifications is very wisely abated gradually every day, so that they are at length reduced to only some trifling practices, yet, they are made to supply the place of almost every duty which Men owe to one another: thus, to quote only one striking instance on the subject, Lewis the Eleventh of France, after he had paid a few devotions of his own contrivance to a leaden image of the Virgin he constantly wore stuck to his hat, thought he had fully atoned beforehand for any crime he meditated to commit.
I shall conclude this Note with a stroke of ridicule which M. de Voltaire, in one of his Pieces mêlées, throws upon the dangerous, and at the same time arrogant, pretensions of those persons who voluntarily submit to mortifications like those here alluded to. He supposes a conversation to take place with a Fakir, of which a Turk, then on his travels in India, writes an account to one of his friends.
‘I happened to cross a Fakir, who was reading in his Book: Ah wretched Infidel! cried he; thou hast made me lose a number of vowels that I was counting, which will occasion my soul to pass into the body of a hare, instead of that of a parrot, with which I had before the greatest reason to flatter myself: I gave him a Rupee to comfort him for the accident. In going a few paces farther, I had the misfortune to sneeze; the noise I made roused a Fakir who was in a trance.—Heavens, cried he, what a dreadful noise! where am I! I can no longer see the tip of my nose! the heavenly light has disappeared.—If I am the cause, said I, of your seeing farther than the tip of your nose, here is a Rupee to repair the injury: squint again, and resume the heavenly light[81].
‘Having thus brought myself off discreetly enough, I passed over to the side of the Gymnosophists, several of whom brought me a parcel of mighty pretty nails to drive into my arms, and thighs, in honour of Brahma: I bought their nails, and made use of them to fasten my boxes. Others were dancing upon their hands; others cut capers on the slack-rope; and others went always upon one foot. There were some who dragged about a heavy chain with them; and others carried a pack-saddle; some had always their heads in a bushel; the best people in the world to live with. My friend Omri carried me to the cell of one of the most famous of them. His name was Bahabec. He was as naked as he was born, and had a great chain about his neck, that weighed upwards of sixty pounds. He sat on a wooden chair, very neatly decorated with little points of nails, that ran into his posteriors; and you would have thought he sat on a velvet cushion. Numbers of Women flocked to him, to consult him: he was the Oracle of all the families in the neighbourhood; and was, truly speaking, in great reputation. I was witness to a long conversation that Omri had with him.—Do you think, Father, said my friend, that, after having gone through seven metempsychoses, I may at length arrive at the house of Brama.—That is as it may happen, said the Fakir. What sort of life do you lead?—I endeavour, answered Omri, to be a good subject, a good husband, a good father, and a good friend: I lend money without interest to the rich who want it, and I give it to the poor: I preserve peace among my neighbours.—But have you ever run nails into your backside, demanded the Brahmin.—Never, reverend Father.—I am sorry for it, replied the Father; very sorry for it indeed. It is a thousand pities; but you will not certainly reach above the nineteenth Heaven.—No higher? said Omri. In troth I am very well satisfied with my lot. But pray, what heaven do you think of going to, good Mr. Bahabec, with your nails and your chain? Into the thirty-fifth, said Bahabec, &c. &c.[82]’
The above recited feats of Dominic the Cuirassed, and Rodolph of Eugubio, who have had numerous imitators, together with the very serious endeavours of Men in the station of Cardinal Damian, to recommend such practices, are very extraordinary facts. It really seems that, in our part of the world, where the Arts and Sciences have been promoted to so high a degree, and the powers of the human mind carried to their utmost extent, we have, in regard to the folly and ignorance of our superstitious notions and customs, been equal to any Nation upon earth, to any of those Nations whom we despise most: nay, perhaps it might be strictly proved that we have been worse.
[81] It is needless to observe that all this alludes to real penances or practices of the Indian Fakirs.
[82] See Voltaire’s Works, translated by Smollett, Franklin, and others, Vol. XIII. pag. 23, &c.