Part 34

It appears that at this period a belief prevailed that heavenly mercy restored the grace that had been forfeited, commuting for temporal punishment that which else would have been eternal. The monks of Fonte Avellana, for instance, had decreed that thirty psalms, said or sung, with an accompaniment of one hundred stripes to each psalm, would be considered as a set-off for one year of purgatory; and, by this calculation, the whole psalter, which would have demanded fifteen thousand stripes, would have procured a relief of five years from the fiery ordeal. It was no doubt under this impression that St. Dominic the Cuirassier, so named from his wearing, day and night, an iron cuirass next his skin, and which he never took off, adopted this same covering when, upon entering into priest's orders, his parents presented the bishop who ordained him with a rich fur garment, an offence for which the holy man wished to atone by donning an iron vestment.

This said madman belonged to the congregation of Fonte Avellana, the monks of which never touched either wine or oil, and, during five days of the week, lived upon bread and water; moreover, every day after service they flogged each other. Dominic, in extenuation of his family's offence in having presented his diocesan with a luxurious gown, lashed himself at the rate of ten psalters, and thirty thousand lashes _per diem_; by which he calculated that he was redeeming three thousand six hundred and fifty years of purgatorial torments _per annum_: but, in addition to this wholesome allowance, he humbly petitioned his superior to allow him, during Lent, a supplementary punishment of one hundred years, when his day's work was two psalters and a half, and thirty-four thousand five hundred lashes. This punishment did not seem sufficient in his eyes to propitiate the Creator; and St. Pietro Damiano informs us that, during the Lenten days, he actually recited the psalter two hundred times, with a _crescendo_ accompaniment of sixty millions of stripes. It was on this occasion that Yepes shrewdly observed, that he marvelled less at a man's head being able to retain so many verses than that his arm was able to carry on such a flagellation; or, to use his own words, how his flesh, unless made of iron, could resist such a castigation. This blessed man must have been endowed with powers that were increased by exertion, since we find that his ambition gave him such energy, that once beginning his operations in the evening, and singing and flogging, and flogging and singing, _con amore_, through the day and night, at the expiration of twenty-four hours he had gone through the psalms twelve times, begun them a thirteenth time, and proceeded as far as _Beati quorum_, the thirty-second psalm; having inflicted upon himself one hundred and eighty-three thousand one hundred stripes, thereby reducing purgatorial stock to the amount of sixty-one years, twelve days, and thirty-three minutes, to a fraction.

It would be perfectly idle and absurd for any freethinker to doubt this fact, recorded by an eyewitness--Pietro Damiano, a saint, and moreover a cardinal; and Calmet himself maintains that no man should dare to doubt a saint's assertion, more especially when speaking of another beatified person. Notwithstanding this assertion, a stiff-necked arithmetician calculated that, if during these twenty-four hours the saint had given himself two blows every second, the number of lashes would only have amounted to one hundred and seventy-two thousand eight hundred, being ten thousand three hundred short of the amount stated! However, this difficulty was overcome by Father Castaniza, who makes up the amount by maintaining that he made use of cats with ten tails, and therefore had actually a balance in his favour in his _winding_-sheet.[28]

_Ubi stimulus ibi affluxus_, has been a physiological axiom since the days of Hippocrates; and flagellation thus employed is only a modification of blistering, or exciting the skin by any other irritating method. The moral influence of flagellation in the treatment of different diseases has been appreciated by the ancients: it was strongly recommended by the disciples of Asclepiades, by Cælius Aurelianus, and since by Rhasis and Valescus, in the treatment of mania. No doubt, the terror which this castigation inspires may tend materially to facilitate the management of the insane. To the present day this opinion has prevailed to a revolting degree, and it is no easy matter for the humane physician to convince a keeper of the cruelty or inutility of this practice. Seldom or never does this harsh management become necessary: I had charge of a military lunatic asylum for a considerable time, and, with one exception, never found myself warranted in causing corporal punishment to be inflicted, notwithstanding the association of ideas of discipline which such a chastisement must have produced amongst men then exposed to the capricious infliction of the lash. The case to which I allude was one of a Sergeant N--, who had twice attempted my life, and who fully remembered every circumstance in the remissions of his malady; so much so, indeed, that doubts were entertained in the minds of the casual visiter as to the real condition of his mental faculties; and in the establishment now under my superintendence a keeper is discharged when convicted of having struck a patient _under any circumstances_.

To return from this digression: the authoritative power of man over the brute creation is daily witnessed, even with unruly and ferocious animals; and there are, no doubt, cases where bodily punishment becomes indispensable, when the body will feel what the judgment cannot comprehend. Boerhaave relates the case of a hypochondriac who swore that his legs were made of straw; but an officious servant-maid, who was sweeping the room, struck him across the shins with her broomstick, and soon brought him to a sense of his erroneous impression.

Flagellation draws the circulation from the centre of our system to its periphery. It has been known in a fit of ague to dispel the cold stage. Galen had observed that horse-dealers were in the habit of bringing their horses into high condition by a moderate fustigation; and therefore recommended this practice to give _embonpoint_ to the lean. Antonius Musa treated a sciatica of Octavius Augustus by this process. Elidæus Paduanus recommends flagellation or urtication when the eruption of exanthematic diseases is slow in its development. Thomas Campanella records the case of a gentleman whose bowels could not be relieved without his having been previously whipped.

Irritation of the skin has been often observed to be productive of similar effects. The erotic irregularities of lepers is well authenticated; and various other cutaneous diseases, which procure the agreeable relief that scratching affords, have brought on the most pleasurable sensations. There exists a curious letter of Abelard to his Eloisa, in which he says, "Verbera quandoque dabat amor, non furor; gratia, non ira; quæ omnium unguentorum suavitatem transcenderent."

This effect of flagellation may be easily referred to the powerful sympathy that exists between the nerves of the lower part of the spinal marrow and other organs. Artificial excitement appears in some degree natural: it is observed in various animals, especially in the feline tribe. Even snails plunge into each other a bony and prickly spur that arises from their throats, and which, like the sting of the wasp, frequently breaks off and is left in the wound.

In the monastic orders of both sexes, flagellation became a refined art. Flagellation was of two species, the upper and the lower; the upper inflicted upon the shoulders, the lower chiefly resorted to when females were to be fustigated. This mode was adopted, according to their assertions, from the accidents that might have happened in the upper flagellation, where the twisting lash might have injured the sensitive bosom. In addition to this device, nudity was also insisted upon. In the article Dæmonomania I have recorded various abominations of the kind. Nor was it only amongst religious orders and their followers that this custom obtained. It was practised by ladies of high rank amongst their commensals and attendants. Brantome gives us a curious and quaint account of this amusing castigation. Mademoiselle de Limeuil, one of the queen's maids of honour, was flagellated for having written a pasquinade, in company with all the young ladies who had been privy to the composition. And on another occasion he tells us: "J'ai ouï parler d'une grande dame de par le monde, voire grandissime, mariée et veuve, qui faisait dépouiller ses dames et filles, je dis les plus belles, et se délectait fort à les voir, et puis elle les battait du plat de la main, avec de grandes clacquades et blamuses assez rudes; et les filles qui avaient délinqué en quelque chose, avec de bonnes verges, et elle les clacquait ainsi selon le sujet qu'elles lui en donnaient, pour les faire ou rire ou pleurer."

The minions of Henry III. of France, and other princes, were decked in white robes, then stripped, and whipped in procession for the gratification of their royal masters. Not unfrequently the ladies themselves were the executioners in cases where any man had offended them; and the adventure of Clopinel the poet is worth relating. This unfortunate wight had written the following lines on the fair sex:

Toutes êtes, serez, ou fûtes, De fait ou de volonté putes; Et qui bien vous chercherait Toutes putes vous trouverait.

This libellous effusion naturally excited the indignation of the ladies at court, who decided that Clopinel should be flagellated by the plaintiffs without mercy; and it is difficult to say to what extent they might have carried their vengeance but for a timely witticism of the culprit, who piteously addressing the angry yet beauteous group around him with uplifted arm and rod, humbly entreated that the first blow might be struck by the honourable damsel who felt herself the most aggrieved. It is needless to add that not a lash was inflicted.

Medical men were frequently consulted as to the adoption of the upper or lower discipline, as flagellation on the shoulders was said to injure the eyesight. It was from the fear of this accident that the lower discipline was generally adopted amongst nuns and female penitents, as appears by the following rule: "Quippe cum eâ de causâ capucini, multæque moniales, virorum medicorum ac piorum hominum consilio, ascesim flagellandi sursum humeros reliquerint, ut sibi nates lumbosque strient asperatis virgis, ac nodosis funiculis conscribillent."

In a medical point of view, urtication, or stinging with nettles, is a practice not sufficiently appreciated. In many instances, especially in cases of paralysis, it is more efficacious than blistering or stimulating frictions. Its effects, although perhaps less permanent, are more general and diffused over the limb. This process has been found effectual in restoring heat to the lower extremities; and a case of obstinate lethargy was cured by Corvisart by repeated urtication of the whole body. During the action of the stimulus, the patient, who was a young man, would open his eyes and laugh, but sink again into profound sleep. His perfect cure, however, was obtained in three weeks.

ON LIFE AND THE BLOOD.

THE LIFE OF ALL FLESH IS THE BLOOD THEREOF. On this doctrine, expressed in the Mosaic books, many of the olden writers founded their hypothesis that blood was the principle of life. It is, however, more than probable that this opinion was derived from a more ancient ritual than the Levitical code, since we find a similar belief among the Parsees, Hindoos, and other Oriental nations of very remote antiquity, who no doubt owed the practice of abstaining from blood to the early patriarchs.

The Greeks and the Romans, if we take the expressions of their poets as being conclusive, entertained similar notions regarding the vital fluid; and the "purple death" of Homer and "the purple life" of Virgil, are phrases evidently applicable to this theory, which Critias, Empedocles, and their sects maintained. This opinion, however, does not appear to have dictated the expressions made use of by Moses. When he says "the life of all flesh is the blood thereof," it merely signifies that when the blood is abstracted death ensues; a circumstance that must have been daily and hourly observed. It is probable that this injunction was promulgated to check the barbarous custom of devouring raw meat, which seems to have prevailed long before the Jewish legislator. We read in Genesis ix. 4, "Flesh with the life thereof, which is the blood thereof, shall you not eat." From this circumstance we may infer that, like the Abyssinians of Bruce's time, the Jews were in the habit of tearing and cutting flesh from live animals. Saul's army was guilty of a similar practice. It therefore behoved their legislators to oppose a custom that increased the natural ferocity and cruelty of the nation they ruled.

This theory of the ancients has been frequently revived in modern times, and has not a little contributed to increase the mystery that veils the nature of our existence. Harvey, who discovered the circulation of the blood, was a convert to this doctrine; Hoffman also adopted it; and Huxham not only fully believed in it, but sought the immediate part of the blood that constituted life, and fancied that he had discovered it in its red particles. It was John Hunter, however, who first established the system on any thing like a rational basis, although his arguments on the subject have led to much doubt and illiberal controversy. "The difficulty," says he, "of conceiving that blood is endowed with life while circulating, arises merely from its being a fluid, and the mind not being accustomed to the idea of a living fluid. I shall endeavour," he continues, "to show that organization and life do not in the least depend upon each other; that organization may arise out of living parts and produce action; but that life can never arise out of or produce organization." The errors of this doctrine are obvious, and have led many ingenious physiologists into a maze of idle wandering. The fact is, that life is the instrument of organization, or, in other words, organization is the result of life. The embryo could not be developed, did not the fluid that animates it possess a principle of vitality which it communicates to a body previously organized. In this confusion the word "life" has sometimes been applied to the power, and at others to the result. Without organization, life cannot be transmitted; and the moment the principle of life ceases, a disorganization, more or less rapid, ensues.

The doctrine of the vitality of the blood has very lately been maintained by several physiologists. Professor Schultz speaks of an active vital process which can be seen constantly going on between the individual molecules of the blood and the substance of the vessels; but Muller asserts that, during ten years, he examined the circulation of the blood in various parts, at every opportunity and with different instruments, but had never seen what Schultz describes--the constant assimilation, disappearance, and new formation of the globules; nor had Rudolphi, Purkinje, Koch, and Meyer, been more successful in their investigation; and Muller further maintains that the motion of these red particles in the circulation is purely passive, which may be proved by compressing the vessels of the limb, or the limb itself.

Eber and Meyer pretended that these red particles were infusory animals. On this important and curious subject I shall quote Muller's opinion: "The question whether the blood be living fluid or not, calls to mind a critical state of our science. Every thing which evidences an action which cannot be explained by the laws of inorganic matter, is said to have an organic, or, what is the same thing, a vital property. To regard merely the solids of the body as living, is incorrect, for there are strictly no organic solids; in nearly all, water constitutes four-fifths of their weight. Although, then, organic matter generally be considered as merely 'susceptible of life,' and the organized parts as 'living,' yet the blood also must be regarded as endowed with life, for its action cannot be comprehended from chemical and physical laws. The semen is not merely a stimulus for the fructification of the egg, for it impregnates the eggs of the Batrachia and fishes out of the body; and the form, endowments, and even tendencies to disease, of the father, are transferred to the new individual. The semen, therefore, although a fluid, is evidently endowed with life, and is capable of imparting life to matter. The impregnable part of the egg, the germinal membrane, is a completely unorganized aggregation of animal matter; but, nevertheless, is animated with the whole organizing power of the future being, and is capable of imparting life to a new matter, although soft, and nearly allied to a fluid. The blood also evidences organic properties; it is attracted by living organs, which are acted upon by vital stimuli. There subsists between the blood and the organized parts a reciprocal vital action, in which the blood has as large a share as the organs in which it circulates."

This doctrine is, no doubt, ingenious, but I do not consider it as conclusive. It is not because that in inflammation, the blood becoming solid, forming pseudo membranes, which are shortly after supplied with a proportion of blood-vessels, blood possesses life. If this adventitious coagulation were not supplied with blood, it would prove a foreign body; but it is not, therefore, shown that the circumstance of its possessing vitality after its formation is a proof of the life of the blood; it only shows that the secretions of the blood are endowed with a susceptibility of life, when having assumed a solid form, needing vessels for its support. I shall not dwell longer on a professional question of great interest, but which would need a development foreign to the nature of these sketches.

The Greeks had distinct appellations for the cause and result of life; the former they termed [Greek: psychê] the latter [Greek: zôê]. The essential nature of life is, and most probably will ever remain, an impenetrable mystery. Living matter is endowed with a property which we call life; but to find out to what we may venture to attribute this property, is a vain and hypothetical attempt. Equally vain and absurd have been the endeavours to ascertain whether life began at the creation to be subsequently transmitted from parent to offspring, or owed its origin to a spontaneous generation from matter. Many ancient philosophers considered matter as eternal: such was the doctrine of the Pythagoreans; amongst whom we must particularly notice Lucanus Ocellus, whose system, developed in a work written in the Attic dialect, was adopted by Aristotle, Plato, and Philo-Judæus. This work was first translated into Latin by Nogarola. These doctrines led to the unanswerable question, What was this matter--this _invisa materia_--from which every thing visible has proceeded? Has it existed from all eternity, or has it been called into being by the Creator? Has it uniformly exhibited its present harmonious arrangement, or was it once a waste and shapeless chaos? Was this matter endowed with intelligence as a whole, or in its separate fractions?

The eternity of matter was maintained by these philosophers from the belief that _no thing could be created out of nothing, and that no thing could ever return to nonentity_. Such was the doctrine of the Epicureans, of Democritus, and of Aristotle. The poets were of the same belief; and Lucretius expresses himself as follows:

Ubi viderimus nihil posse creari De nihilo, tune, quod sequimur, jam rectiùs inde Perspiciemus.

Persius maintains the same idea:

Gigni De nihilo nil, in nihilum nil posse reverti.

This dogma was no doubt transmitted to the Greeks from the East; and, to the present day, it is a doctrine of the Brahminical creed, clearly expressed in the following terms in their Yajur Veid: "The ignorant assert that the universe in the beginning did not exist in its author, and that it was created out of nothing. O ye, whose hearts are pure! how could something arise out of nothing?" The fathers of the church embraced a similar belief; and Justin Martin says that "the word of God formed the world out of _unfashioned matter_. This Moses distinctly asserts, Plato and his adherents maintain, and ourselves have been taught to believe."

Such was the doctrine of the schools that professed the eternal nature of matter. Other philosophers supported as warmly a different opinion. Thales of Miletus, Zeno of Citium, Xenocrates, and Dicearchus the Messenian, insisted that the human race had a first origin at a period when mankind did not exist. According to this hypothesis, the universe is an emanation or extension of the essence of the Creator. Zeno and the Stoics attribute this creation to the universal elements of fire and water. Anaximander the Milesian asserted that the primitive animals were formed of earth and water mixed together, heated and animated by the solar rays; these aquatic creatures became amphibious, and were gradually transformed into the human races. Strange to say, this extraordinary idea has found proselytes even in our days, and was advocated by Professor De Lamark in his Zoological Philosophy. This fancy pervades the poetry of the ancients. Homer makes Tethys, the wife of Ocean, the daughter of Uranus and Terra, the first parents; and Hesiod, in his Cosmogony, raises Venus and Proteus from the foam of the sea.

The vital and intellectual fire of the ancients that animated all living beings was admitted by most of their physicians, especially by Hippocrates, Galen, and Aretæus. Aristotle describes an universal creative agent in all the elements, the source of life upon earth, and of the celestial movements in the firmament. Descartes, in modern times, maintained that a vital flame existed in the heart of every animal. This fire, and the genial warmth that it diffused, was considered the soul of the universe; and on this subject Gassendi expresses himself as follows: "Si quis velit talem calorem etiam animam dicere, nihil est similiter quod vetet."

It was natural for man, even in an uncivilized state, to attribute to solar heat the same influence on animals as was manifest in its actions upon plants. When life had fled, the inanimate corpse was cold, and caloric was therefore considered the principle of vitality. It was from this conviction that we find the sun and fire objects of adoration both in ancient times and amongst savages to the present day. Fire is idolized by the Tartars, and various African tribes. The Yakouts, a Siberian horde, believe that the deity of good and evil has taken his abode in this supposed element. The Columbian Indians were fire-worshippers; and Pallas informs us that the Chinese on the confines of Siberia held it in such religious respect, that they never attempted to extinguish it even when their dwellings were burning.