Soon after the introduction of Gunpowder, cold water was very generally employed throughout Italy, as a dressing to gun-shot wounds; not however from any theory connected with the influence of diminished temperature or of moisture, but from a belief in a supernatural agency imparted to it by certain mysterious and magical ceremonies, which were duly performed immediately previous to its application: the continuance of the practice, however, threw some light upon the surgical treatment of these wounds, and led to a more rational management of them.
The inoculation of the small-pox in India, Turkey, and Wales, observes Sir Gilbert Blane, was practised on a superstitious principle, long before it was introduced as a rational practice into this country. The superstition consisted in buying it—for the efficacy of the operation, in giving safety, was supposed to depend upon a piece of money being left by the person who took it for insertion. The members of the National Vaccine Establishment, during the period I had a seat at the board, received from Mr. Dubois, a Missionary in India, a very interesting account of the services, derived from superstitious influence, in propagating the practice of vaccination through that uncivilized part of the globe. It appears from this document, that the greatest obstacle which vaccination encountered was a belief that the natural small-pox was a dispensation of a mischievous deity among them, whom they called Mah-ry Umma, or rather, that this disease was an incarnation of the dire Goddess herself, into the person who was infected with it; the fear of irritating her, and of exposing themselves to her resentment, necessarily rendered the natives of the East decidedly averse to vaccination, until a superstitious impression, equally powerful with respect to the new practice, was happily effected; this was no other than a belief, that the Goddess Mah-ry Umma had spontaneously chosen this new and milder mode of manifesting herself to her votaries, and that she might be worshipped with equal respect under this new shape.
Hydromancy is another superstition which has incidentally led to the discovery of the medicinal virtues of many mineral waters; a belief in the divining nature of certain springs and fountains is, perhaps, the most ancient and universal of all superstitions. The Castalian fountain, and many others amongst the Grecians, were supposed to be of a prophetic nature; by dipping a fair mirror into a well, the Patræans of Greece received, as they imagined, some notice of ensuing sickness or health. At this very day, the sick and lame are attracted to various hallowed springs; and to this practice, which has been observed for so many ages and in such different countries, we are no doubt indebted for a knowledge of the sanative powers of many mineral waters. There can be no doubt, moreover, but that in many cases, by affording encouragement and confidence to a dejected patient, and serenity to his mind, whether by the aid of reason or the influence of superstition, much benefit may arise; for the salutary and curative efforts of nature, in such a state of mind, must be much more likely to succeed; equally evident is it, that the most powerful effects may be induced by the administration of remedies which, from their disgusting nature, are calculated to excite strong and painful sensations of the mind.[[29]] Celsus mentions, with confidence, several medicines of this kind for the cure of Epilepsy, as the warm blood of a recently slain Gladiator, or a certain portion of human, or horse flesh! and we find that remedies of this description were actually exhibited, and with success, by Kaw Boerhaave, in the cure of Epileptics in the poor-house at Haerlem. The powerful influence of confidence in the cure and prevention of disease, was well understood by the sages of antiquity; the Romans, in times of pestilence, elected a dictator with great solemnity, for the sole purpose of driving a nail into the wall of the temple of Jupiter—the effect was generally instantaneous—and while they thus imagined that they propitiated an offended deity, they in truth did but diminish the susceptibility to disease, by appeasing their own fears. Nor are there wanting in modern times, striking examples of the progress of an epidemic disease having been suddenly arrested by some exhilarating impression made upon the mass of the population.
In the celebrated siege of Breda, in 1625, by Spinola, the garrison suffered extreme distress from the ravages of Scurvy, and the Prince of Orange being unable to relieve the place, sent in, by a confidential messenger, a preparation which was directed to be added to a very large quantity of water, and to be given as a specific for the epidemic; the remedy was administered, and the garrison recovered its health, when it was afterwards acknowledged, that the substance in question was no other than a little colouring matter.
Amongst the numerous instances which have been cited to shew the power of faith over disease, or of the mind over the body, the cures performed by Royal Touch[[30]] have been generally selected; but it would appear, upon the authority of Wiseman, that the cures which were thus effected, were in reality produced by a very different cause; for he states, that part of the duty of the Royal Physicians and Serjeant Surgeons was to select such patients, afflicted with scrofula, as evinced a tendency towards recovery, and that they took especial care to choose those who approached the age of puberty; in short, those only were produced whom nature had shewn a disposition to cure; and as the touch of the king, like the sympathetic powder of Digby, secured the patient from the mischievous importunities of art, so were the efforts of nature left free and uncontrolled, and the cure of the disease was not retarded or opposed by the operation of adverse remedies. The wonderful cures of Valentine Greatracks, performed in 1666, which were witnessed by cotemporary prelates, members of parliament, and fellows of the royal society, amongst whom was the celebrated Mr. Boyle, would probably upon investigation admit of a similar explanation; it deserves, however, to be noticed, that in all records of extraordinary cures performed by mysterious agents, there is a great desire to conceal the remedies and other curative means, which were simultaneously administered with them; thus Oribasius commends in high terms a necklace of Pœony root, for the cure of Epilepsy; but we learn that he always took care to accompany its use with copious evacuations, although he assigns to them no share of credit in the cure. In later times we have a good specimen of this deception presented to us in a work on Scrofula, by Mr. Morley, written, as we are informed, for the sole purpose of restoring the much injured character and use of the Vervain; in which the author directs the root of this plant to be tied with a yard of whited satin ribband, around the neck, where it is to remain until the patient is cured; but mark,—during this interval he calls to his aid the most active medicines in the materia medica!
The advantages which I have stated to have occasionally arisen from superstitious influence, must be understood as being generally accidental; indeed, in the history of superstitious practices, we do not find that their application was exclusively commended in cases likely to be influenced by the powers of faith or of the imagination, but, on the contrary, that they were as frequently directed in affections that were entirely placed beyond the control of the mind. Homer tells us, for instance, that the bleeding of Ulysses was stopped by a charm:[[31]] and Cato the censor has favoured us with an incantation for the reduction of a dislocated limb. In certain instances, however, we are certainly bound to admit that the pagan priesthood, with their characteristic cunning, were careful to perform their superstitious incantations, in such cases only as were likely to receive the sanative assistance of Nature, so that they might attribute the fortunate results of her efforts, to the potent influence of their own arts. The extraordinary success which is related to have attended various superstitious ceremonials will thus find a plausible explanation: the miraculous gift, attributed by Herodotus to the Priestesses of Helen, is one amongst many others of this kind that might be adduced; the Grecian historian relates, that when the heads of ugly infants were adjusted on the altar of this temple, the individuals so treated acquired comeliness, and even beauty, as they advanced in growth: but is not such a change the ordinary and unassisted result of natural developement? Those large and prominent outlines which impart an unpleasing physiognomy to the infant, when proportioned and matured by growth, will generally assume features of intelligence in the adult face.
I shall conclude these observations, by remarking that, in the history of religious ceremonials, we sometimes discover that they were intended to preserve useful customs or to conceal important truths; which, had they not been thus embalmed by superstition, could never have been perpetuated for the use and advantage of posterity. I shall illustrate this assertion by one or two examples. Whenever the ancients proposed to build a town, or to pitch a camp, a sacrifice was offered to the gods, and the Soothsayer declared, from the appearance of the entrails, whether they were propitious or not to the design. What was this but a physiological inquiry into the salubrity of the situation, and the purity of the waters that supplied it? for we well know that in unwholesome districts, especially when swampy, the cattle will uniformly present an appearance of disease in the viscera, which an experienced eye can readily detect; and when we reflect upon the age and climate in which these ceremonies were performed, we cannot but believe that their introduction was suggested by principles of wise and useful policy. In the same manner, Bathing, which at one period of the world, was essentially necessary, to prevent the diffusion of Leprosy, and other infectious diseases, was wisely converted into an act of religion, and the priests persuaded the people that they could only obtain absolution on washing away their sins by frequent ablutions; but since the use of linen shirts has become general, and every one has provided for the cleanliness of his own person, the frequent bath ceases to be so essential, and therefore no evil has arisen from the change of religious belief respecting its connection with the welfare and purity of the soul. Among the religious impurities and rules of purification of the Hindoos, we shall be able to discern the same principle although distorted by the grossest superstition. The ancient custom of erecting “Acerræ” or Altars, near the bed of the deceased, in order that his friends might daily burn Incense until his burial, was long practised by the Romans. The Chinese observe a similar custom; they place upon the altar thus erected an image of the dead person, to which every one who approaches it bows four times, and offers oblations and perfumes. Can there be any difficulty in recognising, in this tribute to the dead, a wise provision for the preservation of the living? The original intention was, beyond doubt, to overcome any offensive smell, and to obviate the dangers that might arise from the emanations of the corpse. These instances are sufficient to shew the justness of my position: if time and space would allow, many others of a striking and interesting character might be adduced.[[32]]
CREDULITY.
Although it is nearly allied to Superstition, yet it differs very widely from it. Credulity is an unbounded belief in what is possible, although destitute of proof and perhaps of probability; but Superstition is a belief in what is wholly repugnant to the laws of the physical and moral world. Thus, if we believe that an inert plant possesses any remedial power, we are credulous; but if we were to fancy that, by carrying it about with us, we should become invulnerable, we should in that case be superstitious. Credulity is a far greater source of error than Superstition; for the latter must be always more limited in its influence, and can exist only, to any considerable extent, in the most ignorant portion of society; whereas the former diffuses itself through the minds of all classes, by which the rank and dignity of science are degraded, its valuable labours confounded with the vain pretensions of empiricism, and ignorance is enabled to claim for itself the prescriptive right of delivering oracles, amidst all the triumphs of truth, and the progress of philosophy. This is very lamentable; and yet, if it were even possible to remove the film that thus obscures the public discernment, I question whether the adoption of such a plan would not be outvoted by the majority of our own profession. In Chili, says Zimmerman, the physicians blow around the beds of their patients to drive away diseases; and as the people in that country believe that physic consists wholly in this wind, their doctors would take it very ill of any person who should attempt to make the method of cure more difficult—they think they know enough, when they know how to blow.
But this mental imbecility is not characteristic of any age or country. England has, indeed, by a late continental writer,[[33]] been accused of possessing a larger share of credulity than its neighbours, and it has been emphatically called “The Paradise of Quacks,” but with as little truth as candour. If we refer to the works of Ætius, written more than 1300 years ago, we shall discover the existence of a similar infirmity with regard to physic. This author has collected a multitude of receipts, particularly those that had been celebrated, or used as Nostrums,[[34]] many of which he mentions with no other view than to expose their folly, and to inform us at what an extravagant price they were purchased. We accordingly learn from him that the collyrium of Danaus was sold at Constantinople for 120 numismata, and the cholical antidote of Nicostratus for two talents; in short, we shall find an unbounded credulity with respect to the powers of inert medicines, from the elixir and alkahest of Paracelsus and Van-Helmont, to the tar water of bishop Berkeley, the metallic tractors of Perkins, the animal magnetism of Miss Prescott, and may I not add, with equal justice, to the nitro-muriatic acid bath of Dr. Scott? The description of Thessalus, the Roman empiric in the reign of Nero, as drawn by Galen, applies with equal fidelity and force to the medical Charlatan of the present day; and, if we examine the writings of Scribonius Largus, we shall obtain ample evidence that the same ungenerous selfishness of keeping medicines secret, prevailed in ancient no less than in modern times; while we have only to read the sacred orations of Aristides to be satisfied, that the flagrant conduct of the Asclepiades, from which he so severely suffered,[[35]] was the very prototype of the cruel and remorseless frauds, so wickedly practised by the unprincipled Quack Doctors and advertising “Medical Boards,” of our own times: and I challenge the apologist of ancient purity to produce a more glaring instance of empirical effrontery and success, in the annals of the nineteenth century, than that of the sacred impostor described in the Alexander of Lucian, who established himself in the deserted temple of Esculapius, and entrapped in his snares some of the most eminent of the Roman senators.