Part 55

"Now comes a spirit of universal contentment with himself and all the world. He thinks no more of misery: it is dissolved in the bliss of the moment. This is the acme of the fit--the ecstasy is now perfect. As yet the sensorium is in tolerable order, it is only shaken, but the capability of thinking with accuracy still remains. About this time the drunkard pours out all the secrets of his soul. His qualities, good or bad, come forth without reserve; and now, if at any time, the human heart may be seen into. In a short period, he is seized with a most inordinate propensity to talk nonsense, though he is perfectly conscious of doing so. He also commits many foolish things, knowing them to be foolish. The power of volition, that faculty which keeps the will subordinate to the judgment, seems totally weakened. The most delightful time seems to be that immediately before becoming very talkative. When this takes place a man turns ridiculous, and his mirth, though more boisterous, is not so exquisite. At first the intoxication partakes of sentiment, but, latterly, it becomes merely animal.

"After this the scene thickens. The drunkard's imagination gets disordered with the most grotesque conceptions. Instead of moderating his drink, he pours it down more rapidly than ever, glass follows glass with reckless energy. His head becomes perfectly giddy. The candles burn blue, or green, or yellow, and when there are perhaps only three on the table, he sees a dozen. According to his temperament, he is amorous, or musical, or quarrelsome. Many possess a most extraordinary wit, and a great flow of spirits is generally attendant. In the latter stages, the speech is thick and the use of the tongue in a great measure lost. His mouth is half open, and idiotic in the expression; while his eyes are glazed, wavering and watery. He is apt to fancy that he has offended some one of the company, and is ridiculously profuse in his apologies. Frequently he mistakes one person for another, and imagines that some of those before him are individuals who are in reality absent or even dead. The muscular powers are all along much affected; this indeed happens before any great change takes place in the mind and goes on progressively increasing. He can no longer walk with steadiness, but totters from side to side. His limbs become powerless and inadequate to sustain his weight. He is, however, not always sensible of any deficiency in this respect, and while exciting mirth by his eccentric motions, imagines that he walks with the most perfect steadiness. In attempting to run, he conceives that he passes the ground with astonishing rapidity. In his distorted eyes all men and even inanimate nature itself, seem to be drunken, while he alone is sober. Houses reel from side to side, as if they had lost their balance; trees and steeples nod like tipsy bacchanals; and the very earth seems to slip under his feet and leave him walking and floundering in the air.

"The last stage of drunkenness is total insensibility. The man tumbles, perhaps, beneath the table, and is carried off in a state of stupor to his couch _dead drunk_.

"No sooner is his head laid upon the pillow, than it is seized with the strongest throbbing. His heart beats quick and hard against his ribs. A noise like the distant fall of a cascade, or rushing of a river is heard in his ears--rough--rough--rough--goes the sound. His senses now become more drowned and stupified. A dim recollection of his carousals, like a shadowy and indistinct dream, passes before the mind. He still hears, as in echo, the cries and laughter of his companions. Wild fantastic fancies accumulate thickly around the brain. His giddiness is greater than ever; and he feels as if in a ship tossed upon a heaving sea. At last he drops insensibly into a profound slumber.

"In the morning he awakes in a high fever. The whole body is parched; the palms of the hands, in particular, are like leather. His head is often violently painful. He feels excessive thirst; while his tongue is white, dry, and stiff. The whole inside of the mouth is likewise hot and constricted, and the throat often sore. Then look at his eyes--how sickly, dull and languid! The fire which first lighted them up the evening before is all gone. A stupor like that of the last stage of drunkenness still clings about them, and they are disagreeably affected by the light. The complexion sustains as great a change: it is no longer flushed with gaiety and excitation, but pale and wayworn, indicating a profound mental and bodily exhaustion. There is probably sickness, and the appetite is totally gone.

"Even yet the delirium of intoxication has not left him, for his head still rings, his heart still throbs violently, and if he attempt to get up, he stumbles with giddiness. The mind also is sadly depressed, and the proceedings of the previous night are painfully remembered. He is sorry for his conduct, promises solemnly never again so to commit himself, and calls impatiently for something to quench his thirst.

"Persons of tender and compassionate minds are particularly subject, during intoxication, to be affected to tears at the sight of any distressing object, or even on hearing an affecting tale. Drunkenness, in most characters, may be said to melt the heart and open the fountain of sorrow. Their sympathy is often ridiculous, and aroused by the most trifling causes. Those who have a lively imagination, combined with this tenderness of heart, sometimes conceive fictitious cases of distress, and weep bitterly at the woes of their own creating.

"There are also some persons on whom drunkenness calls forth a spirit of piety, or rather of religious hypocrisy, which is both ludicrous and disgusting. They become sentimental over their cups, and while in a state of debasement most offensive to God and man, they will weep at the wickedness of the human heart, entreat you to eschew swearing and profane company, and have a greater regard for the welfare of your immortal soul. These sanctimonious drunkards seem to consider ebriety as the most venial of offences!"

Inebriety has sometimes a curious effect upon the memory. Actions committed during intoxication may be forgotten on a recovery from that state.

Drunkenness differs materially according to the nature of the intoxicating potation. Wine in general may be considered as less injurious, and its effects more transient than spirituous liquors, that produce great excitement, followed by indirect debility and visceral obstruction. The inebriety produced by alcoholic preparations, moreover, is attended with a delirious state, furious and uncontrollable, or followed by congestion and torpor. Malt liquors render their victims heavy, stupid, and more obstinate than violent, and a long continuance in their use produces a state of imbecility, observed so early as Aristotle.

Similar differences are observable in the effects of different liquors on the imagination. Wine most undoubtedly produces a greater vivacity of ideas and a more brilliant scintillation of wit and fancy. Hoffmann, indeed, considered the juice of the grape as indispensable to poetic inspiration, and it is very doubtful whether Pegasus was ever benefited by a draught of beer. But, alas! of what avail are the considerations regarding the effects of the pernicious habit of drinking? When once accustomed to the cheering stimulus of liquor, it matters not what the drunkard takes, and if Champagne or Burgundy are not at hand, gin or rum will prove a substitute, perhaps less grateful, but still not unwelcome. Drinking becomes the only refuge from those cares which owe their very origin to excesses, and they must be drowned in any bowl that can be filled to drive away the blue devils.

Vina parant animos, faciuntque caloribus aptos, Cura fugit, multo diluiturque mero: Tunc veniunt risus, tunc pauper cornua sumit; Tunc dolor et curæ, rugaque frontis abit, Tunc aperit mentis ævo, rarissima nostro Simplicitas, artes excutiente Deo.

DECAPITATION.

As I have observed in a preceding article, much doubt exists whether decapitation puts an end to our sufferings, as it has not and most probably will never be ascertained, whether the body or the head are first deprived of sensation or vitality. Galvanic experiments had been resorted to, but were warmly opposed by Professor Ferry on the plea of humanity, as he maintained that unless we were certain that sensation had ceased, we had no right to submit the unfortunate culprits who had been decapitated to this trial. Guillotin (whose name was given to the terrific machine so closely connected in our recollection with the horrors of the French Revolution, which he introduced from the East and Germany) maintained that the moment the head was severed from the body all sensation ceased. Cabanis and Petit were of a similar opinion. Sue, Aldini, Mojon, Weicard, Liveling, Castel, and other physiologists, founded their belief in a contrary doctrine, upon numerous experiments on various animals. Sue grounded his arguments upon two chief points: first, the sudden effect produced by decapitation upon the two most powerful regulators of the functions of life, the brain and the heart; and secondly, on the consideration that the section of the neck was often uneven and jagged, splinters of bones irritating the bruised nerves, vessels, and spinal marrow.

According to this view of the matter, existence was not immediately destroyed by decollation. Castel thought that this principle was extinguished in the head sooner than the body. Sue and Julia de Fontenelle were of a different opinion. Dubois of Amiens endeavoured to prove the non-existence of pain after decapitation, by showing that convulsive movements, epileptic and hysteric attacks, were not accompanied by any painful sensations. In decapitation, he thinks that the suddenness and violence of the blow must produce insensibility, for we cannot imagine that the section of the spinal marrow thus violently performed can occasion pain; and if any sensations were experienced in that awful moment, it is more than probable that the violent perturbation would render them obtuse. As to any feelings of the separated head, he does not think that any muscular convulsions observed in it can indicate the existence of pain.

To these arguments of the Amiens physiologist, Julia de Fontenelle replied that it was never maintained that convulsive movements were expressive of pain, although it was not impossible that epileptic and hysterical patients may have experienced painful sensations during their attacks that might be forgotten upon their recovery, as somnambulists bear no recollection of what passed during their disturbed slumbers. The convulsive affections alluded to by Dubois were frequently expressive both of pleasure and of pain, or marked with a character of stupor or of indifference, whereas the convulsive movement observed in the features of the decapitated invariably expressed anguish; in support of his firm belief in the existence of the power of sensation after execution, he refers to the observations of Soemmering, Mojou, and Sue, who had remarked that when the head was turned towards the solar rays, the eyes instantly closed,--a phenomenon that could not take place if the eyes were dead. Dr. Montault jocosely observes that it is to be regretted that, to decide this controversy, recourse cannot be had to the experiments, recorded by Bacon, of an inquisitive person who hanged himself for the purpose of ascertaining if strangulation was a painful operation. One of his friends very fortunately cut him down ere it was too late, when the curious experimentalist was quite satisfied that hanging was by no means painful or unpleasant, and that the moment strangulation took place, he had been struck with a flickering light, that was instantly followed by utter darkness.

Various cases are recorded of individuals thus cut down, when hanged by accident, or executed. In most instances they stated that they had experienced a pleasurable sensation as strangulation took place. I have already alluded to the curious fate of the well-known composer of the "Battle of the Prague."

MUMMIES.

Much doubt exists regarding the derivation of the word _mummy_. Bochard, Menage, Vossius, attributed it to the Arabic noun _mum_, meaning _wax_. Salmasius derives it from _mumia_, a body embalmed and aromatized. The Persian word _múmiyà_, means bitumen or mineral pitch. Abd-Allatif, an Arabian physician, describes mummy as a substance flowing from the tops of the mountains, and which mixing with the water that streamed down, coagulates like mineral pitch.

Many are the opinions relating to the custom of embalming men and various animals in ancient Egypt. By some it has been considered a superstitious practice, by others the result of affection. To keep the remains of those we loved upon earth free from the destructive power of death, and preserving in some degree those forms that once flitted before us and around us in all the enjoyments of life, is a natural, one might almost say an instinctive, sentiment;--preserving those fond remains upon earth, exempted from the painful sight of beholding them committed to the earth--earth to earth--for ever! How different must have been the feelings of the relatives of the departed, when leaving the body reposing in the tomb, still preserving the form of its mortal coil--still in the world--where all we loved might be visited and spoken to in the language of affection and regret--how different must have been these feelings when compared to those that compress the respiration and check our utterance, after seeing that body separated from us, and leaving a chasm around us deeper still than the grave. We are, however, to seek in this practice other motives. The wisdom of the theocratic government of ancient Egypt was most admirable, and not founded upon mortal affections and dislikes. The sovereign priesthood had to attend to concerns of greater magnitude. The first inhabitants of Egypt, migrating most probably from the upper regions of Ethiopia, had to colonize an unhealthy region, to struggle with swamps and marshes, and destroy myriads of animals, whose decomposition added to the dangers they had to encounter when settling in such an unhealthy land. Pestilence, no doubt, as in after times, frequently desolated the infant kingdom. Their priests, in whose temples were recorded in mystic legends all the science of the age, must have applied their experience and their judgment to meet the evil, and surmount it, were it possible. The ideas of corruption are closely connected with those of putrescency; and putrescency has ever been considered the chief source and focus of pestilential maladies. To avoid corruption and putrescence, then, became one of the most important Hygienic studies; and, like Moses, who had received his early education in Egypt, its priesthood enforced salutary laws as the injunction of the Creator; nor was the task as difficult as it might have proved in a more extensive and more diversified region. The population resided in a land of no very great extent; their climate did not vary according to prominent topographical circumstances; and the produce of the soil, as regarded alimentary substances, admitted of little variety. Thus it became easy to establish salutary institutions to regulate the mode of living of the obedient people, who looked upon the commands of their sainted legislators as dictates from the eternal throne.

Impressed with the conviction of the immortality of the soul, the Egyptian priesthood imagined, or, at any rate, endeavoured to persuade the multitude that the immortal part of our being was retained within its earthly house so long as the corporal form could be preserved entire, and if (which is most probable) they believed in the resurrection of the soul either in its human form or that of some other animal, this doctrine may be easily accounted for as founded upon reason, and grateful to the sensitive feelings. A belief in the transmigration of souls naturally led to the desire of retaining them as long as it was possible in their former abodes; and the lines of Virgil--

Animamque sepulchro, Condimus,

would seem to warrant this belief amongst the ancients. St. Augustine clearly tells us that the Egyptians did believe in a resurrection.

Amongst other prophylactic means to resist epidemic diseases the embalming of the dead must naturally have occurred to the sacred college as one of the most effectual means of checking or preventing contagion. Not only was man submitted to this process, but every animal, domestic or obnoxious, was equally preserved. It may be said, if destruction was rendered a prudent step, why were not these bodies consumed by fire? The reason appears to me obvious. It was necessary to check the consumption of animal food; therefore were various animals considered sacred, and not allowed to be immolated for the use of the multitude; other animals were considered noxious, and as such their use was forbidden. Religion thus stamped them with the irrevocable dye of holiness or corruption. Mystic characters were traced upon their remains. The sanctity of these animals sometimes varied in different districts, and the ibis was venerated where the serpent was disregarded. When we contemplate the thousands of crocodiles in the caverns of Samoun, the myriads of the ibis in the desert of Hermopolis, Antinoë, Memphis,--when we behold even the eggs that were destined to perpetuate their race thus preserved,--had not these animals been thus respected, they would have become the food of the inhabitants, and, both from their abundance and their unwholesome qualities, have added to the frequent scourges that desolated the land.

Here again we find that this anomaly was unavoidable: those myriads of animals, from the nature of the climate and the soil would have increased to such numbers as to overrun the land. What was to be done? Had they been considered edible, most unquestionably they would have been devoured as food; it therefore became necessary to destroy and embalm them: this destruction was no doubt inculcated as a religious duty; otherwise, how should we find even to the present day, such numbers of these creatures, preserved through the lapse of ages, with their very eggs,--another proof that even their incubation was checked. Placed between the desolate desert and the sea, numerous must have been the races of animals who sought refuge in this wondrous region; and, as Lagasquie observes, in the Necropolis of Alexandria and Memphis, at Arsinoë, Charaounah, Achmin, Beni-Hacan, Samoun, Hermopolis, Thebes, and in innumerable hypogean monuments, we find the remains of thousands--nay of millions--of ibises, crocodiles, cats, rats, dogs, jackals, wolves, monkeys, serpents, nay, fishes of various kinds. Passalacqua found at Thebes numbers of birds, rats, mice, toads, adders, beetles and flies, all embalmed together. Nay, Herodotus informs us that the animals considered sacred in one city, were held in abhorrence in others, a difference of opinion that not unfrequently occasioned bitter hostilities. Thus the Ombites fought with the Tentyrites on account of the sparrowhawks, and the Cynopolitans waged war with the Oxyrhynchites from disputes about dogs and pikes. These schisms no doubt arose from priestly ambition, each temple claiming its especial shrine of adoration, for whatever might have been the original motive that led to those theological practices, there is no doubt but all these animals were to a certain degree typical of the good and evil propensities of the various deities, as manifested in their several habits, whence they were selected in the symbols and attributes of the sovereign powers. Abbé Banier endeavours to prove that the bull was the symbol of Osiris and Isis, and that these divinities were themselves symbolic of the sun and moon. Thus the worship of the bull, Mnévis and Apis. The inhabitants of Mendes adored the god Pan, and worshipped him under the figure of a goat, and Mercury is represented with the head of a dog, the most intelligent of animals. Thus in time people lost sight of the origin of the worship, and transferred their adoration to the symbols, as many Roman Catholics transfer their worship of the saints to their wooden images.

The priesthood of Egypt sought not their power in terror, but in affection and gratitude. They strove to convince the people that they were their true friends and real benefactors; their sole study was their welfare, their greatest pride the nation's prosperity. Gratitude appears to be the sentiment they most sought to inculcate. The serpent was held in veneration, because it destroyed noxious vermin; the ibis was respected from the same motive; the crocodile for the protection it afforded their navigable waters; yet, by one of those strange anomalies that we find in most mythological _reveries_, animals were held sacred, although they constantly destroyed other sacred creatures; and while the crocodile was worshipped, the ichneumons that destroyed its eggs were also entitled to respect. Such was the value of the remains of departed relatives and friends, that their embalmed bodies were often pledged for large sums. The more readily advanced, since their redemption was considered a sacred duty. Thus do we find worldly regulations, bearing the sanctity of a theologic seal. Then again how mighty must have been the hierarchy from whose doctrines emanated the Pharaonic splendour of their stupendous monuments--works of art, that attracted the notice and the admiration of all the civilized part of the globe, whose travellers while they flocked to view their magnificence, were taught to cultivate the sciences and arts, which the priesthood professed, smatterings of which those visiters proudly carried back as a precious gift to their country. Moreover what occupation must have been afforded to the people and to their numerous captives, whom they continually dreaded, from the apprehension that in their constant wars, their prisoners might join their enemies--a circumstance fully proved in Holy Writ, where we find, in Exodus i. 10, that the Hebrews were oppressed, "lest when there falleth out any war, they join also unto our enemies and fight against us."