CHAPTER XIX.

MEDICAL DELUSIONS AND FRAUDS.

State of Medicine in remote Ages--Animals Teachers of Medicine--Gymnastic Medicine--Cato’s Cure for a Fracture--Dearness of ancient Medicines and Medical Books--Absurdity of the ancient Materia Medica: Gold, Bezoar, Mummy--Prescription for a Quartan--Amulets--Virtues of Gems--Corals--Charms--Charm for sore Eyes--Medicine connected with Astrology--Cure by Sympathy--Sir Kenelm Digby--The real Cause of the Cure--The Vulnerary Powder, &c.--The Royal Touch--Evelyn’s Description of the Ceremony--Valentine Greatrakes--Morley’s Cure for Scrofula--Inoculation--Vaccination--Dr. Jenner--Animal Magnetism--M. Loewe’s Account of it--Mesmer, and his Feats--Manner of Magnetizing--Report of a Commission on the Subject--Metallic Tractors--Baron Silfverkielm and the Souls in White Robes--Mr. Loutherbourg--Empirics--Uroscopy--Mayersbach--Le Febre--Remedies for the Stone--The Anodyne Necklace--The Universal Medicine--Conclusion.

The history of the art of medicine begins with fable and conjecture, and rests on dubious tradition. Fifty years prior to the Trojan war, Esculapius is said to have been deified, on account of his medical skill; and Machaon and Podalirius, his sons, formed the medical staff of the Grecian army before Troy. In the temples of the gods diseases and cures were registered, and engraved on marble tables and hung up, for the benefit of others. The priests, at that time, prepared the medicines, and made it a lucrative trade; and fables were invented to increase the renown of the oracle, for difficult cases were stated to be caused by the immediate wrath of Heaven, in which the only remedies were prayer and sacrifices, fear urging the trembling patients to follow whatever course was prescribed.

From the sacred writings little medical information is derived: Moses gave precautionary directions for the prevention or cure of leprosy, consisting chiefly of cleanliness; and religion was called in to enforce the medicinal ordinances. In Babylon, we are told by Herodotus, that the sick were carried out to the public roads, that travellers might converse with them, and acquaint them with any remedies they had seen used in such complaints with success. In Egypt, each physician applied himself to one disease; and Prosper Alpinus, in his History of Egyptian Medicine, reports that they took the hints of curing divers diseases from brute beasts: thus phlebotomy was taken from a practice noticed in the hippopotamus, or river-horse, which bleeds itself when plethoric, by pressing its thigh on a sharp-pointed reed. Dogs and cats are known, when sick, to vomit themselves by eating grass; swine, when ill, refuse meat, and so recover by abstinence. In like manner from numerous bodies, as flies, locusts, &c., being enclosed in amber, it is thought the art of embalming was first suggested.

Gymnastic medicine was founded by Herodicus; games and sports had been early instituted in the Grecian states, and were divided into religious, military, athletic, and lastly medical gymnastics, particularly adapted for the prevention or cure of diseases. Herodicus, from his own observations on its advantages, commenced practising as a physician, and it was his only panacea. After him came Hippocrates, who made the first successful attempt to separate the medical profession from rash empiricism, and the frivolous dreams of philosophers. He compared the body to a circle, in which an universal sympathy of parts existed; his great repute arose from his skill in predicting crises, which he was enabled to do with perfect precision.

Pliny says Rome was inhabited six hundred years before any physicians established themselves there; and for some time the medicine of the Romans consisted of charms, fascinations, incantations, and amulets. The book of Cato de Re Rustica, is a proof of the gross superstition and ignorance of those times. He proposed in a case of fracture to have it bound up, and the following words sung every day--“Huat, Hanat, ista pista, fista, dominabo, damnastra et luxata.”

When the religious frenzy of the Mahometans was abated, and they became enriched by commerce, arts and literature, after ages of barbarism, were again cultivated with great industry, and the medical profession, in particular, was rewarded and encouraged with rank and bountiful endowments. Ætius complained in his time of the general use of quack medicines, nostrums, &c., and of the immense price demanded for those which were fortunate enough to rise into general repute. Danaus, he tells us, sold his collyrium, at Constantinople, at the astonishing price of one hundred and twenty pieces of gold to each patient, and sometimes could scarcely be persuaded upon to sell it at any price. Nicostratus demanded no less than two talents for his celebrated isotheosis, or antidote against the colic.

The works of the Grecian and Arabian physicians, when they came to be more generally known in the fifteenth century, were most highly prized. In the year 1471, Louis XI. borrowed the works of Rhazes from the Paris faculty, but was obliged, previously, to deposit a quantity of plate, and find a nobleman to join with him, as an additional security for the care and safe return of the book. Jew physicians were at that time employed by the Pope, and most of the crowned heads in Europe. John of Gaddesden was the first Englishman appointed Court Physician in London. His idea of the treatment of diseases was rather different from the theories of the present day; for when attending the king’s son for smallpox, he directed the room to be hung with scarlet cloth, and the patient to be rolled up in similar stuff.

The _rationale_ of the Materia Medica one hundred and fifty or two hundred years since was very extraordinary, as well with respect to the nature of the substances proposed as remedies, as to the number of ingredients, sometimes thirty or forty, which were congregated together in each composition, upon the principle that if one did not reach the disorder another might.

The nature of the substances used was, often, even more extraordinary and disgusting than their variety; many of them were thought to act by a charm, or by the strong sensation of disgust which their exhibition excited, rather than by any more direct appeal to the disordered part. The more precious also the article, the more certain was thought the cure.

The _aurum potabile_, and other preparations of gold, were conceived to have many virtues. Gold, by the chemical writers, was styled the sun and king of metals. Kings and princes were thus amused and defrauded, and their lives made shorter than those of their subjects who were beneath the use of gold. The chickens they ate were fed with gold, that they might extract the sulphur, and prepare the metal by their circulation; the physicians were contented to collect all the gold, which passed unaltered and undiminished through the poultry, into their pockets.

Bezoar denotes an antidote, from a Persian word, and is generally applied to medicinal stones, generated in the stomach and other viscera of animals. Bezoars usually attain the size of acorns or pigeons’ eggs, the larger the more valuable. A stone of one ounce was sold in India for one hundred livres, and one of four ounces and a quarter for two thousand; they were very scarce, and few of the genuine ever came into the European market, the greater number that were sold being artificial compounds. The hog bezoar, or Pedra del Porco, was first brought into Europe by the Portuguese; it is found in the gall-bladder of a boar in the East Indies; the Indians attribute infinite virtues to it, as a preservative against poison, cholera, &c. The porcupine and monkey bezoars were held in such esteem by the natives of Malacca, that they never parted with them unless as presents to ambassadors and princes; single stones have been sold for sixty or eighty pounds sterling. In 1715, bezoar was thought equal in value to gold. Dr. Patin says of it, the most visible operation it hath is when the bill is paid; and he calls it the scandalous stone of offence, and lasting monument of perseverance in imposture.

The most loathsome preparations were recommended, and eagerly used by the sick. Mummy had the honour to be worn in the bosom, next the heart, by kings and princes, and all those who could bear the price. It was pretended, that it was able to preserve the wearer from the most deadly infections, and that the heart was secured by it from the invasion of all malignity. A dram of a preparation called treacle of mummy, taken in the morning, prevented the danger of poison for all that day. Thus decayed spices and gums, with the dead body of an Egyptian, were thought to give long life.

To cure a quartan, or the gout, “take the hair and nails, cut them small, mix them with wax, and stick them to a live crab, casting it into the river again.” The moss from a dead man’s skull was held to be of sovereign virtue in some cases.

Amulets were much used formerly, not only to cure but to prevent disease, and also were thought to have a wonderful power over the moral qualities and affections. The onyx, worn as an amulet, strengthened the heart, and refreshed phantasms. The ruby resisted poisons, and preserved from the plague. If a man was in danger it changed colour, and became dim, but recovered its brightness when the danger was past. Hence, perhaps, was the original motive for carrying jewels and precious stones, set in rings or in seals.

Corals, says Paracelsus, “are of two sorts: one, a clear bright shining red; the other, a purple dark red. The bright is good to quicken phansie, and is against phantasies, or nocturnal spirits, which fly from these bright corals, as a dog from a staff, but they gather where the dark coral is. A spectre or ghost is the starry body of a dead man: now these ethereal or starry bodies cannot endure to be where the bright corals are, but the dark coloured allures them; the operation therefore, is natural, not magical, or superstitious, as some may think. Bright coral restrains tempests of thunder and lightning, and defends us from the cruelty of savage monsters, that are bred by the heavens contrary to the course of nature; for sometimes the stars pour out a seed, of which a monster is begotten; now these monsters cannot be where corals are.”

The use of charms in medicine was a very ancient practice, and, when once commenced, each succeeding charm became more ridiculous. Pierius mentions an antidote against the sting of a scorpion; the patient was to sit on an ass, with his face to the tail, for by this means the poison was transmitted from the man to the beast. Sammonicus, a poetical physician, recommended the fourth book of Homer’s Iliad to be laid under the patient’s head to cure a quartan ague. The efficacy of scriptural sentences was deduced from the custom of the Jews wearing phylacteries.

An approved spell for sore eyes was worn as a jewel about many necks: it was written on paper, and enclosed in silk, “never failing to do sovereign good when all other helps were helpless. No sight might dare to read it, but at length a curious mind, while the patient slept, by stealth ripped open the mystical cover, and found in Latin, Diabolus effodiat tibi oculos, impleat foramina stercoribus.”

When astrology was in repute, physic was generally practised with some reference to the stars, and the astrological judgments became a very common object of inquiry amongst physicians. A Dr. Saunders, who wrote very fully on this branch of the science, thus commences:--

“From hence Withdraw all carping critics that deny The great art of sublime astrology, Which, unto such as have attained the key, Shows the true cause of a disease, and may Direct the doctor, expeditiously, The nearest way to cure the malady.”

But, says he, “the firm and steadfast confidence in the Almighty is quite essential to the happy conclusion of all expectionates; for, if thou presumest otherwise, no doubt but that will be verified on thee which the prophet sayeth to the Chaldeans, ‘Sapientia et scientia te decepiet,’ for either, by thy own ignorance and mistaking, thou wilt be seduced, or else Heaven itself shall yield unto thee so ambiguous an answer, that thou shalt not be able to conclude any certainty.

“The Egyptians, Chaldeans, and Arabians, do observe many curious observations in this art, as translation of light, prohibition, contraradiation, restitution, frustration, obsession, cursuvacation, cursutardation, ferality, augedescention, meridiodescentia, luminiminution, numeriminution, via combusta, &c., which, although I wish not to deny to have some small effect, yet I have often proved, that overmuch curiosity doth rather deviate a man from concluding any thing certainly.

“If thou findest the cusp of the ascendant to fall in the very latter end of a sign, then, doubtless, the querent comes but to tempt thee; or if the question be not radical, if the lord of the ascendant or the hour be not of one triplicity, it signifies the carelessness of the querent, and that he cares not whether you hit or miss.”

Among the more remarkable of subsequent medical delusions were, the cure by sympathy, royal touch, and animal magnetism. Sounder views of medical practice were entertained by degrees; but enough of the old leaven of folly and superstition has, at different times, shown itself, to prove that human nature will never be free from the imputation of lending itself, either from vanity, indolence, or ignorance, to forward the views of ridiculous or unprincipled empiricism; the disciples of which would, nevertheless, be the first to disbelieve or dispute similar assertions or arguments, when applied to the exercise of other professions or trades.

The first medical delusion which claims our notice is the cure by sympathy. What is now the common method of healing wounds, appeared most unnatural to the surgeons at the end of the seventeenth century; and their legitimate and only cure proved such torture to the unhappy patients, that, in those days, nothing was to be heard in the hospitals, at the time of dressing, but howling and cries. A man proposing the romantic doctrine of adhesion of wounds by union of their edges, would have been despised; but, if he were bold and cunning enough to give an air of incantation to his cures, or declare that they were performed by a secret philosophical sympathy, he was sure of success. No surgeon in Europe ventured to unite wounds directly, without pretending to have learnt, from some Eastern sage, or to have discovered, by abstruse studies in philosophy and alchemy, a sympathetic or philosophical mode of cure.

The first inventor of the sympathetic powder was the celebrated Paracelsus, and the Paracelsian doctors flourished in England when Dr. Charleton wrote his ternary of paradoxes, chiefly on the magnetic or attractive power of wounds. This fanaticism lasted no short time, and was hardly to be paralleled, except by the study of the perpetual elixir, and the universal solvent.

Sir Kenelm Digby, secretary to Charles I., was driven into exile during the civil wars. In a discourse upon the cure by sympathy, pronounced at Montpelier before an assembly of nobles and learned men, he gave the curious case of Mr. Howell, who, whilst endeavouring to part two of his friends who were fighting, had his hand cut to the bone. Sir Kenelm was applied to for assistance. “I told him,” says he, “I would willingly serve him; but if, haply, he knew the manner how I would cure him, without touching or seeing him, it may be he would not expose himself to my manner of curing, because he would think it, peradventure, either ineffectual or superstitious.” He replied, “The wonderful things which many have related unto me of your way of medicinement makes me nothing doubt at all of its efficacy; and all that I have to say unto you is comprehended in the Spanish proverb--Hagase el milagro y hagalo Mahoma--Let the miracle be done, though Mahomet do it.”

“I asked him then for any thing that had the blood upon it; so he presently sent for his garter, wherewith his hand was first bound, and dissolving some vitriol in a basin of water, I put in the garter, observing in the interim what Mr. Howell did. He suddenly started, as if he had found some strange alteration in himself. I asked him what he ailed? ‘I know not what ails me, but I find that I feel no more pain; methinks that a pleasing kind of freshness, as it were a wet cold napkin, did spread over my hand, which hath taken away the inflammation that tormented me before.’ I replied, ‘Since then that you feel already so good effect of my medicament, I advise you to cast away all your plaisters, only _keep the wound clean_, and in a moderate temper betwixt heat and cold.’ To be brief; there was no sense of pain afterward; but within five or six days the wounds were cicatrized and entirely healed.”

The king obtained from Sir Kenelm the discovery of his secret, which he pretended had been taught him by a Carmelite friar, who had learned it in Armenia or Persia.

The fact was, the sympathetical physician understood the cure of wounds by adhesion more perfectly than others; but it was necessary to cheat the world into this safe method of cure, and they declined the use of it altogether, where they foresaw, from the nature of the wound, it could not succeed. The public opinion would have been so strong against any open innovation, that the sympathetic doctors got credit for something like witchcraft, and condescended to dress axes and swords, that the wounds might have leave to lie at rest till they healed. All cures by adhesion were mysteriously performed, and one in particular, called the secret dressing, in which great pains were taken, before laying the lips of the wound together, to suck out all the blood. This was chiefly used by drummers in regiments, to conceal the quarrels of the soldiers.

The trick of this way of cure consisted in making grimaces and contortions, signing their patients with the cross, and muttering between their teeth some unintelligible jargon. Their care was to keep the profession among themselves, and it was from the profanation of the sign of the cross that there arose a hot war between the priests and the suckers; the former refusing confession, extreme unction, or any sacrament to those who had undergone the magical or diabolical ceremonies of the suckers, who, on the other hand, refused to suck those connected in any way with the priests, being anxious to preserve their trade, which was not without its emoluments; for Verduc observes that they were still more skilful in sucking gold than blood.

The “Vulnerary Powder, and Tincture of the Sulphur of Venus,” performed wonders, one of which Dr. Colebatch relates of a Mr. Pool, who was run through the body with a sword, and lost four quarts of blood. The medicines being applied, the bleeding stopped; on the following day he “was gnawing tough ill-boiled mutton,” and drank a quart of ale; and in the course of five days he returned to duty in the camp. “A Mr. Cherry also, sergeant of grenadiers at the attack of the castle of Namur, was wounded in twenty-six places, twenty-three with bullets, and three large cuts on the head with a sword. He lay forty-eight hours stripped naked upon the breach, without a bit of bread or drop of drink, or any thing done to his wounds; yet this man was cured by the vulnerary powder and tincture alone, and never had any fever.”[16]

The materials of the sympathetic powder were more heterogeneous and horrid than those which the witches used to drop into the caldron; human fat, human blood, mummy, the moss that grows in dead men’s skulls, or hogs’ brains; and the chief schism among the great masters of the sympathetic school arose from the question, whether it was necessary that the moss should grow absolutely in the skull of the thief who had hung on the gallows, and whether the medicine, while compounding, was to be stirred with a murderer’s knife?

Some, anxious to avoid the damnable charges which were urged against this practice, defended it on philosophical principles, and from the analogy of other natural operations. Any lute, said they, being tuned in unison with another, is affected when the other is struck, the magnet turns by sympathy to the pole, amber attracts light bodies, loadstones hung to the breast make us cheerful and merry, and the wearing of jewels secures chastity.

All acknowledged sympathetic cures were successful, and the established surgeons of that day refused to practise the treatment, only because it was impious and unlawful; for, said they, how can we contradict matters of fact?

We come now to the second of the great medical delusions, that which attributed to the royal touch a sanative power in scrofulous cases. This is supposed to have been a monkish invention, to increase the reverence for kings, and was practised in England and France.

Becket, a writer in the time of Charles II., fully describes the royal gift of touching for the evil, which gift had been confirmed and continued for six hundred and forty years. It is proved out of Corinthians I. chap. xii. ver. 9. “To another the gift of healing by the same spirit,” and they must needs be allowed no good subjects who dare deny this sanative faculty, when so many thousands had received benefit!

Clovis I., the fifth king of France, who reigned about five hundred years after the birth of Christ, is reputed to have been the first who had the gift of curing this disease. William of Malmesbury states, that Edward the Confessor was the first in England who healed strumous patients by the touch. Dr. Plott describes a piece of gold of this monarch, found in St. Giles’s Fields, near Oxford, having E. C. over the head, as well as two small holes through it by which it was hung on a riband, and used at the ceremony of touching for the evil. Some have considered this gift as the most efficacious part of the cure; some imagined that the success was principally owing to the sign of the cross made on the swellings.

The power of healing by the royal touch does not seem to have been very frequently practised till the time of Charles I. and II., after which it almost ceased.

Mr. Evelyn gives a full description of the ceremony. “His majesty,” says he, “began to touch for the evil according to custom, thus:--His Majesty, sitting under his state in the Banqueting House, the chirurgeons cause the sick to be brought or led up to the throne, where, they kneeling, the king strokes their faces or cheeks with both his hands at once, at which instant a chaplain, in his formalities, says, ‘He put his hands upon them and he healed them;’ this is said to every one in particular. When they have all been touched they come up again in the same order, and the other chaplain kneeling, and having angels of gold strung on white ribands on his arm, delivers them one by one to his majesty, who puts them about the necks of the touched as they pass, whilst the first chaplain repeats, ‘That is the true light who came into the world.’ Then follows an Epistle, with the Liturgy, and prayers for the sick, with some alteration; lastly the blessing. Then the lord chamberlain and comptroller of the household bring a basin, ewer, and towel, for his majesty to wash. John Bird says, the king expresses his belief in the cure being effected through the grace of God, saying, at the time of the ceremony, ‘I touch, God heals.’”

One of the historians of the royal touch gives a numerical table of the number of persons touched by Charles II., from May 1660 to 1680, distinguishing the exact number of each year; the grand total amounts to the incredible number of ninety-two thousand one hundred and seven, at the average of twelve every day!

Others, besides those of royal extraction, set up pretensions of curing certain diseases by touch. The seventh sons of seventh sons had a more than usual virtue inherent in them. But the one who attracted public attention most was Mr. Valentine Greatrakes, called, _par excellence_, “The Stroker.” He was an Irish gentleman, and came to England, invited by the Earl of Orrery, to cure the Viscountess Conway of an inveterate headache; and though he failed in that attempt, he is said to have wrought many surprising cures, not unlike miracles. He was born in 1628, seemed very religious, his looks grave but simple. He had felt a strange persuasion, or impulse, that he had the gift of curing the evil, which suggestion becoming very strong, he stroked several persons and cured them. During an epidemical fever, he cured all who came to him, his power of curing extending over divers maladies. He performed such extraordinary cures that he was cited into the Bishop’s Court, at Lismore, for not having a license to practise. He arrived in England in 1666; and, as he proceeded through the country, magistrates of the cities and towns through which he passed begged him to come and cure their sick. Having arrived in London, he every day went to a particular part, where a prodigious number of sick of all ranks and both sexes assembled. His fame did not last, however. He returned to Ireland in 1667, and lived many years, but no longer kept up the reputation of performing strange cures. On the strictest inquiry, no sort of blemish was ever thrown on his character.

A Mr. Morley wrote on the virtues of the vervain root, as an effectual cure for scrofula. “I recommend,” says he, “a piece of the root of common purple vervain, fresh, about three or four inches long, all the fibres to be cut off, and it is to be always worn at the pit of the stomach, tied with one yard of white satin riband half-inch wide; no other colour is proper, because the dye may be prejudicial.”

It is the fate of all useful discoveries or improvements to meet with bigoted or interested opposition from those who would willingly remain in the beaten path of habit, rather than acknowledge any change to be profitable.

That most important discovery of the circulation of the blood by Harvey was at first furiously opposed, and was _proved_, according to the laws of hydraulics, to be both impossible and absurd; yet, when it was in vain to dispute the fact, it was undervalued, as one _almost_ known long before!

Inoculation, it is well known, as a means of rendering small-pox less severe, was introduced into England by Lady Mary Wortley Montague, who had frequent opportunities of seeing the operation performed, when residing at Constantinople with her husband, the English ambassador there. She was so thoroughly convinced of the safety of this practice, that she was resolved to submit her only son to it; a boy about six years of age. The operation succeeded perfectly; this happened in 1717. After her return to England, she set the first and great example, by having her little girl, then five years old, also inoculated.

Mr. C. Maitland, who had accompanied the family of Mr. Wortley, and had inoculated the son and daughter of that gentleman, performed the operation, by royal command, on six condemned criminals at Newgate, in the presence of several eminent physicians and surgeons, and they all did well. Mr. Maitland, however, was not prepared to find this species infectious, and was much surprised to find that the disorder was caught by six servants, who were wont to hug and caress a little child, sick of the inoculated disease.

So great a novelty, as the inoculation of a disease, produced much astonishment and dread, and it was opposed professionally and theologically. Mr. Edmund Massey preached a sermon, at St. Andrew’s, Holborn, July 8, 1722, against the dangerous and sinful practice of inoculation. His text was Job, chap. ii. v. 7, “So went Satan forth from the presence of the Lord, and smote Job with sore boils, from the sole of his foot unto his crown.” From this text he argued that the disease with which Job was smitten was neither more nor less than the confluent small-pox. “With this view, I shall not,” said he, “scruple to call it a _diabolical_ operation, usurping an authority founded neither in nature nor religion. This practice also tends to promote vice and immorality, inasmuch as it diminishes the salutary terror which prevails respecting the uncertain approach of the disease.”

Inoculation has doubtless been of infinite benefit to society, but it is now superseded by a much greater improvement, namely, that of vaccination. This is, beyond all comparison, the most valuable and the most important discovery ever made; it strikes out one of the worst in the catalogue of human evils; it annihilates a disease which has ever been considered as the most dreadful scourge of mankind.

Dr. Edward Jenner, the inventor of vaccination, was born in Gloucestershire, in 1749, and, being educated for the medical profession, was placed under the immediate tuition of Mr. John Hunter, with whom he lived two years, as a house pupil. After finishing his studies in London, he settled at Berkeley. His inquiry into the nature of cow-pox commenced about the year 1776. His attention to this singular disease was first excited by observing, that among those whom he inoculated for the small-pox many were insusceptible of that disorder. These persons, he was informed, had undergone the casual cow-pox, which had been known in the dairies from time immemorial, and a vague opinion prevailed that it was a preventive of the small-pox. He instituted a series of experiments, and several persons were successively inoculated from each other with vaccine matter, and then exposed to the infection of small-pox, which they all resisted. When these facts were communicated to the world envy assailed his fame, his discovery was depreciated, then denied. Truth, however, ultimately prevailed, vaccination obtained a complete triumph, and the foes of Jenner and humanity were covered with confusion. Dr. Mosely, one of his opponents, asks if any person can say, “What may be the consequences of introducing a _bestial humour_ into the human frame, after a long lapse of years?” He was asked, in return, “What may be the consequences, after a long lapse of years, of introducing into the human frame cow’s milk, beefsteaks, or a mutton-chop?” Dr. Jenner had numerous presents of plate, &c., honours were conferred on him by different societies; and a grant of ten thousand pounds was voted to him by Parliament.

The phenomena of Animal Magnetism, when announced to the world, excited the greatest sensation on the Continent, particularly in France; for some years the subject filled their “Journals” and “Mercuries,” and employed some of their best pens and brightest wits.

M. Mesmer, the inventor, was a native of Switzerland, of great talents, but enthusiastic fancy. He undertook to defend the old doctrine of the influence of the planets on the human frame, and he searched for some means of communication between them. Electricity did not answer his expectations, and he turned his attention to magnetism. Iron becomes magnetic after being rubbed with a magnet; he therefore rubbed the human body with the loadstone. The phenomena which resulted he attributed, at first, to the magnetic influence; but experience proved to him that the application of the bare hand produced the same effect, yet he called this animal magnetism.

M. Loewe, a supporter, says, “On a certain application of the palm of the hand and tips of the fingers, made by the magnetiser, without, however, touching the person, or even at the distance of two or three inches, the magnetised individual feels an increase of warmth, at times a chilliness or uneasiness within him, particularly near the pit of the stomach. After repeated applications, the eyelids become heavy, and the patient falls into a sleep, from which he cannot be aroused by sense of hearing, or by any other of the external organs of sense. There was one instance of a magnetised person, who had only occasion to enter the house of the magnetiser, in order to fall into a profound and magnetical sleep. A very rare result of this state is that of clairvoyance, when it has been observed, that the internal sense seems to present itself wholly unconfined, and all nature appears to be disclosed to it; the body being, as it were, completely numbed, eyelids open, pulse soft and hardly perceptible, the countenance is transformed, and exhibits the picture of innocence. They are in fervent prayer to the Creator, or perhaps they describe scenes and pastimes at the antipodes. A female, who had never been in America, and had never read geographical descriptions, described that continent, its inhabitants, &c., very accurately.”

Meeting with but little encouragement in Germany, Mesmer went to France, where he was exceedingly successful. His cures were numerous, and of the most astonishing nature. He was obliged to form a number of pupils, under his inspection, to administer his process. His house, at Creteil, was crowded with patients, and a numerous company was daily assembled at his house at Paris, where the operation was publicly performed.

One evening, M. Mesmer walked with six persons in the gardens of the Prince de Soubise. He performed a magnetical operation upon a tree, and, a little after, three ladies of the company fainted away. The duchess, the only remaining lady, supported herself upon the tree, without being able to quit it. The Count of ----, unable to stand, was obliged to throw himself upon a bench. The effects upon M. A----, a gentleman of muscular frame, were more terrible; and M. Mesmer’s servant, who was summoned to remove the bodies, and who was inured to these scenes, found himself unable to move. The whole company were obliged to remain in this situation for a considerable time.

The public method of magnetising was performed in a large room, in the centre of which stood a circular box, large enough to admit of fifty persons standing round it. Out of the lid came numerous branches of iron, one to each patient. The patients applied this branch to the part affected, and a cord, passed round their bodies, connected one with the other, and each patient pinched the thumb of his neighbour. A piano-forte played different airs, with various rapidity, the sound of which was also a conductor of magnetism. The bucket in the centre was the grand reservoir, from which the fluid was diffused through the branches of iron inserted in the lid. All this was purely imaginary, for, on being tested with an electrometer and needle of iron, it was evident the bucket contained no substance either electric or magnetical. By degrees, however, the several ranks of patients round the bucket became affected with drowsiness, convulsions, or hysterics, and nothing was more astonishing than the combination of effects at one view. The patients appeared entirely under the government of the person who distributed the magnetic virtue.

This system at length was thought to deserve the attention of government, and a committee, partly physicians and partly members of the Royal Academy of Sciences, with Dr. Benjamin Franklin at their head, were appointed to examine it. M. Mesmer refused communication with them, but M. Deslon, the most considerable of his pupils, consented to disclose to them his principles. The result of the investigation was made known by a report from the commissioners. They decided that, instead of being a novelty, Mesmer’s was merely an ancient and worthless system, which had long been abandoned by the learned.

The commissioners afterwards made experiments on single subjects, and upon themselves. After repeated experiments, not one of the commissioners felt any sensation that could be ascribed to the action of magnetism. Of fourteen sick persons, operated upon in private, five only appeared to feel any effect from the operation. In fact, magnetism did not appear to them to have any existence for those subjects who submitted to it with any degree of incredulity.

M. Sigault, by _pretending_ to possess the magnetising power, had all the success of Mesmer himself. He detailed, in a letter to the commissioners, the results, as follows:--“The magisterial tone and serious air I affected, together with certain gestures, made a very great impression on the woman of the house, which she was desirous to conceal, but, having guided my hand upon the region of the heart, I felt it palpitate. Her face became convulsed, her eyes wandered; she at length fell into a swoon, and was reduced to a state of weakness and sinking perfectly incredible. I repeated the same trick upon others, and succeeded more or less, according to their different degrees of sensibility and credulity. A celebrated artist complained for several days of an extreme headache, and acquainted me with it on the Pont-Royal. Having persuaded him that I was initiated in the mysteries of Mesmerism, I expelled his headache, almost instantaneously, by means of a few gestures, to his great astonishment.”

From numerous experiments made by the commissioners, it was quite clear that those who were most susceptible of the magnetic influence, if magnetised _unknown to themselves_, were not in the least affected; whereas, when they _suspected_ the operation was performing, they exhibited all the usual phenomena attributed to that power, though in reality nothing was done.

Metallic tractors, as the agents of animal magnetism, under the superintendence of Dr. Perkins, for a time produced a sensation equally extraordinary in England; but it was satisfactorily proved that the imagination of the patient alone gave virtue to the tractors. Dr. Thornton found a wooden skewer had all the power of the tractors in removing pain when clandestinely used instead of them.

The Baron Silfverkielm, of Uleáteog, in Finland, was a great proficient in Mesmerism. He imagined the souls of those magnetically asleep were translated to the regions above, where the souls of the departed were all dressed in white robes, and enjoyed constant scenes of delight. He would interrogate the sleepers, concerning the white robes, Paradise, and the Elysian Fields. He was also desirous to receive intelligence from his ancestors, and, in general, they very kindly sent him their compliments by the mouths of the couriers in white jackets.

By directly attacking the imagination did Mr. Loutherbourg cure vast numbers of patients. He became impressed with the idea that he had a commission from above to cure diseases, and his door was soon crowded with patients all day. Amongst others, a respectable man, from the country, had been afflicted with great pains and swellings, particularly about the loins, so that he could not walk across the room. On entering, Mr. Loutherbourg looked steadfastly at him, and said, “I know your complaint, sir, look at me.” They continued looking at each other some minutes; then Mr. L. asked, if he did not feel some warmth at his loins. The man replied that he did. “Then you will feel in a few minutes much greater warmth.” After a short pause, the man said, “I feel as if a person was pouring boiling water upon me.” Still looking him in the face, Mr. L. said, “How did you come here, sir?” “In a coach.” “Then go and discharge your coach, and walk back to town” (from Hammersmith Terrace, where Mr. L. resided). The coach was discharged, and the patient walked to town, and next day he walked five hours about town without fatigue. He offered ten pounds; but Mr. L. would not take a farthing.

The easy manner in which people have become a prey to illiterate and dangerous pretenders, in the medical art, has been long known. Many thousand volumes would attest the truth of this observation, which has been often repeated. Cotta, in 1612, says, “There is no place or person ignorant how all sorts of vile people and unskilful persons, without restraint, make gainful traffic by botching in physic; and hereby numbers of unwotting innocents daily enthrall and betray themselves to sustain the riot of their enemies and common _homicides_.” The late Dr. Buchan exclaimed, “As matters stand at present it is easier to cheat a man out of his life than a shilling, and almost impossible to detect or punish the offender.” The case is still the same.

Uroscopy, or water-casting, was once very much practised, and those who professed to cure diseases by such inspection, simply, were consulted by all classes of persons. The absurdity of these pretensions was forcibly exposed by Dr. Radcliffe, on the following occasion. A shoemaker’s wife applied to him to relieve her husband, who was very ill, presenting him with a phial of his water for inspection. The doctor exchanged the contents, and bade her take that back, and tell her husband to make a pair of shoes, by the same instructions.

A Dr. Meyersbach started, about 1770, as a water doctor; he had arrived from Germany in a starving state, and was first an ostler at a riding-school. Not making money fast enough, he set up as a doctor, and was consulted by all classes. Dr. Lettsom took great pains to expose the ignorance and knavery of Meyersbach, whose violent medicines, if they sometimes cured, more often aggravated, his patients’ sufferings. It is believed that he acquired a good fortune, with which he retired to his native country.

Le Fevre, another German, a broken wine-merchant, set up for a gout doctor, and was much noticed by the nobility. Under pretence of going to Germany for more of his powders, he quitted this country, and had the prudence never to return. He carried over above ten thousand guineas, obtained by subscription and otherwise. Living in the style of a prince, he drank daily, as his first toast, “To the credulous and stupid nobility, gentry, and opulent merchants, of Great Britain.”

Calculous disorders are so painful in general, that people suffering from such causes eagerly fly to what promises relief. Many specifics for this disease, lithontriptics as they were called, had their day. In 1771, a Dr. Chittick advertised such a remedy, and made use of a very unusual expedient to keep it secret. He would not intrust it to any one unmixed. The vehicle in which it was to be taken was weak veal broth, which was sent him from day to day. Each of his patients sent him three pints of broth in a tin bottle, padlocked, to prevent curious persons from prying, the doctor and patient each having a key. His terms were two guineas a week, regularly paid, besides which he expected a considerable premium for his pains. Mr. Blackrie, who exposed this species of fraud, detected by analysis a solution of alkaline salts and quicklime; yet the doctor greatly exclaimed against the use of those salts, as highly mischievous.

A Mrs. Joanna Stephens was the proprietor of a lithontriptic, which for a long time had a great repute, and was even thought worthy the attention of parliament, who voted her five thousand pounds for making known the composition of it, a favourable report of its efficacy having been given by the gentlemen who were appointed trustees to examine into its pretensions. Subsequent experience has shown that it is not so well adapted to the ends proposed, being a medley of soap and ill-prepared alkaline substances, very nauseous and oppressive to the stomach.

The recent and valuable discovery of lithotrity, now practised by Baron Heurteloup and others, namely, the application of mechanical power for the destruction of the stone, without the use of the knife, is likely to be of more signal advantage than internal remedies, and, though it is candidly stated by its supporters not to be applicable in every case, yet it may frequently be performed without either pain or inconvenience.

The anodyne necklace, which was the result of some ridiculous superstition respecting the efficacy of Sir Hugh’s bones, is still gravely offered for sale, to facilitate the cutting of the teeth. In 1717, a “philosophical treatise” was published, wherin it says, “The effluvia and atoms, driven off by the heat of the body, bear such a tendency to the ailing part, as the loadstone does to iron, and that they will never leave off acting till they have given ease, and consequently it is a thing most capable of curing sympathetically the diseases of a human body, of any thing in the whole world. Since this famed necklace has been published, the bills of mortality have so decreased, as to be less than ever they have been known to be.”

But the _summum bonum_, with which this series of medical deceptions may appropriately be closed, was the “universal medicine, or virtues of the magnetical antimonial cup, addressed to the houses of parliament by John Evans, minister and preacher of God’s word. It is warranted to be alone the phœnix and miracle of all physical miracles: the elixir of life, balsam of nature. It containeth mystically and essentially the quintessence of all minerals and vegetables, and magnetically sympathiseth with all animals.”

In spite, however, of such admirable _never-failing_ specifics, which, it would seem, ought to have exterminated every malady from the face of the earth, diseases, hydra-headed, still baffle their assailants, and return to the charge with renewed force and provoking obstinacy. But the matter is too serious for the subject of a joke. If even practitioners who have conscientiously studied their profession are unavoidably in some degree open to the old charge of “pouring medicines, of which they know little, into a body of which they know less,” what must be said, or what ought to be the punishment, of such villanous pretenders as those who have been described in this chapter,--men without talent or education, and who seem to think that, like charity, impudence covers a multitude of sins!

CONCLUDING CHAPTER.

MISCELLANEOUS.

Superstition of the Hindoos--The Malays--Asiatic superstitions--The Chinese--Miracle of the Blessed Virgin--Stratagem of an architect--Michael Angelo’s Cupid--Statue of Charles I.--Ever-burning sepulchral lamps--Lamp in the tomb of Pallas--The art of mimicry--Superiority of the ancients--Fable of Proteus--Personation of the insane Ajax--Archimimes at funerals--Demetrius the cynic converted--Acting portraits and historical pictures--War dances of the American Indians--The South Sea Bubble--Gay the poet--Law’s Mississippi scheme--Numerous bubbles--Speculations in 1825.

Such has been the extent of the credulity of the human mind, that it would require many volumes to enumerate the whole of its singular vagaries. Our object in compiling such a work cannot be accomplished without greatly condensing those accounts which historians and travellers have communicated; we therefore devote the concluding chapter to summary notices of several matters, that to enlarge upon would defeat the intent of this publication.

The religion of India is based upon the grossest superstition; divided into castes, the persons of the Brahmins are sacred; the food of the Hindoos is entirely of vegetables, as it was in the time of Alexander; widows were burned alive to insure their eternal happiness; one hundred and fifty thousand persons assemble yearly at the temple of Juggernaut in honour of a blind deity, precipitating themselves voluntarily before its wheels, where they are crushed to death, thus instantly as they believe, entering a blessed immortality.

More individual cases of absurd and disgusting fanaticism occur in the Hindoo religion than, probably, in all the other religions in the world. The excruciating penances these Indian devotees voluntarily undergo, their number and extent, have struck all travellers. In making a pilgrimage to Hurdwar, one zealous devotee performed a journey of some hundred miles, prostrating himself and measuring every inch of the way with his body as he advanced; some swing themselves on a rope by means of a hook passed through the muscles of the back; some over fires with their heads towards the flame; every variety of personal torture is endured from a mistaken principle of religion conjoined with pride of caste; some have literally burned themselves alive; mutilation to propitiate some goddess is no uncommon occurrence; some years since a Hindoo actually cut out his tongue to propitiate the amiable goddess Kali-Ghat.

The Malays have equally absurd superstitions, and charms are bought at extravagant prices. A volume would alone be required to cite the superstitions of Asia, where the human mind remains to this day in a childlike state. The peculiar tenets of the Chinese have been ably set forth by many writers, and by none more successfully than by Davis, in his history of this curious nation. Their priests are taken from the lowest orders, and a Chinaman depends upon their prayers.

But we need not visit China to be convinced of the natural tendency of man to superstition; a story is current of a picture of the immaculate conception, which was in the late college of Jesuits in Valencia, that may challenge competition for absurdity. This picture is the object of general veneration, and by the devout is considered almost equal to the Virgin herself; for tradition reports, that it was painted of Father Alberto, to whom the Blessed Virgin condescended to appear on the eve of the assumption, ordering her portrait in the dress she then wore; he employed Juanes, who, after many trials succeeding, the work was sanctified, and the pencil, like a sword, was blessed and made invincible by the Pope, so that it never missed its stroke. One day Juanes seated on a scaffold at work on the upper part of the picture, the painter being in the act of falling, the holy personage, whose portrait he had finished, stepped suddenly from the canvass, and seizing his hand, preserved him from the fall, when the gracious lady returned to her post!

A very ancient fraud connected with architecture is mentioned by Sandys, in his curious and rare book on the East. One of the Ptolemies caused a tower to be built of a wonderful height, having many lanterns for the use of ships at sea during the night. It was reputed the seventh wonder of the world. Sostratus, of Cnidos, the ambitious architect, was refused by the king the satisfaction of setting his name to the work. This, however, the artist effected by cutting an inscription on a block of marble, which he encrusted over with a fictitious stone, on which was engraved a pompous inscription in honour of the king; when it decayed his own name appeared as the builder.

Michael Angelo, to try how far he could impose upon the curious in sculpture, carved a statue of Cupid. Having broken off the arm, he buried the rest of the figure under a certain ruin, where they were wont to dig in search of marbles. It was soon after discovered, and passed among the learned antiquaries for an invaluable and undoubted piece of ancient sculpture, till Angelo produced the arm previously broken off, which fitted so exactly as to convince them of their too easy credulity, and the vanity of their speculations.

In the year 1678, was erected the animated statue of Charles I., at Charing Cross. The parliament, in Cromwell’s time ordered it to be sold, and broken to pieces; but the brazier who purchased it dug a hole in his garden, and buried it unmutilated, producing to his masters several pieces of brass which he told them were parts of the statue; and in the true spirit of trade, he cast a number of handles of knives and forks, offering them for sale as composed of the brass of the statue; they were eagerly sought for, and purchased by the loyalists, from affection for their murdered monarch. When the second Charles was restored, the statue was brought forth from its place of concealment, and eagerly purchased at a great profit to the brazier.

A superstition now forgotten, was long credited, that sepulchral lamps have burned for several hundred years, and that they would have continued burning, perhaps for ever, had they not been broken by the accidental digging into the tombs by husbandmen and others; few have declared themselves to have been _eye-witnesses_ of the fact, but many learned and ingenious authors give abundance of instances on the report of others. The origin of these lamps seems to have been with the Egyptians, who, through a firm belief of the metempsychosis, endeavoured to procure a perpetuity to the body itself, by balsams or embalming, and security to it afterwards, by lodging it in pyramids or catacombs: so also they endeavoured to animate the defunct by perpetual fire, the essence of which answered to the nature of the soul in their opinion: for with them fire was the symbol of an incorruptible, immortal, and divine nature. The soul was to be lighted by its lamp when it wandered according to its option, and thus safely return to its old quarters.

One of the most remarkable of the sepulchral lamps has thus been described as found in the tomb of Pallas. In the year 1501, a countryman, digging deep into the earth, near Rome, discovered a tomb of stone, wherein lay a body, so tall, that being raised erect, it overtopped the walls of the city, and was as entire as if newly buried, having a very large wound on the breast, and a lamp burning at the head, which could neither be extinguished by wind nor water; so that they were obliged to perforate the bottom of the lamp, and by that means put out the flame. This was said to be the body of Pallas, slain by Turnus; the lamp is said to have burned two thousand five hundred and eleven years; and perhaps would have continued to burn to the end of the world, had it not been broken, and the liquid spilt!

At the present day of intellectual advancement, this story of the size of Pallas, and of the lamp whose contumacious flame, well befitting such a giant, exceeds all belief, however gravely stated; yet the time was, when, instead of exciting contemptuous laughter, it was implicitly credited. The lamp in the temple of Jupiter Ammon was reported by the priests to have burned continually, yet it consumed less oil each succeeding year; though burning in the open air, neither wind nor water could extinguish it. A similar lamp also burned in honour of Venus. Trithemius obliges his readers with two long receipts for the artificial manufacture of these lamps, yet seems to doubt their efficacy.

The _possibility_ of such eternal lamps being made in Egypt has been attributed to the existence of the bituminous wells or fountains, from which the learned in those days laid secret canals or pipes to the subterranean caves, where, in a convenient place, they set up a lamp with a wick of asbestos. It seems, indeed, to have been thought a great desideratum in the arts to invent a perpetual lamp for the companion of the dead as a complimentary illumination to the manes of the departed, or from some foolish desire to strike wonder, in after times, in some carnal beholder, unwittingly violating the tomb; the accounts of such appear to have been generally believed authentic up to the end of the seventeenth century; the utilitarian age we live in is content to possess a perpetual locomotive fire for those above ground.

The art of mimicry, in its modern sense though confined to a mere imitation of manners, in former times, by the excellence of its action, imposed on the imaginations of the spectators, and persuaded them into a belief of the reality of what was represented, even as it were against conviction.

The endeavour of one or more individuals to express or relate any story by mere action, was carried to much greater perfection among the ancients than now appears to be possible. According to Lucian, a single dancer or mime was able to express all the incidents and sentiments of a whole tragedy or epic poem by action, accompanied by music, and the fable of Proteus he seemed to think meant no more than that he was an accomplished pantomime. The education of a mime required, he says, his whole life to make himself master of his profession; he must know the past, the present, and what is to come; in short, the spectator must _understand_ the dancer though dumb, and _hear_ him though silent.

Lucian mentions a famous mime, who played Ajax the madman so well, and raged in such a way that one would have said he did not counterfeit, but was mad in reality. Timocrates, a tutor in philosophy, and who from conscientious motives had declined being present at such plays, by accident seeing a pantomime, cried out, “What admirable sights have I lost by a philosophical modesty!” and ever afterwards attended them.

This kind of scenic representation was given at funerals, and the actors were called archimimes; they went before the coffin, and imitated the gestures and actions of the deceased; his virtues and vices were depicted. Demetrius the cynic, disdained and railed at the art of the mime, declaring all the success was derived from the music; but a famous mime in Nero’s time, invited him to see him dance, and, having witnessed his performance, then to find fault with him. Having imposed silence on the music, he danced the story of the amours of Mars and Venus, the discovery of them by the sun; in short so well was it done, that Demetrius, transported, cried out aloud, “I hear, my friend, what you act; I not only see the persons you represent, but methinks you speak with your hands.”

There is less to be said of this art in its present state, though pantomime, considered distinct from harlequinade, now receives great attention in Italy. The acting of portraits and historical pictures, exhibited with the greatest fidelity of costume and attitude in Florence, and which amusement is now common in well-bred circles at home, is another species of ingenious deception, which is almost perfect. The war-dance among the American Indians is most striking, representing a campaign. The departure of the warriors from their village, their march into the enemy’s country, the caution with which they encamp, the address with which they station some of their company in ambuscade, the manner of surprising their enemy, the noise and ferocity of the combat, the scalping of those who are slain, the seizing of the prisoners, the triumphant return of the conquerors, and the torture of the victims, are successively and ably exhibited with the tact of actors. The performers enter with such enthusiastic ardour into their several parts; their gestures, their countenance, their voice, are so wild, and so well adapted to their various situations, that Europeans can hardly believe it to be a mimic scene, or view it without emotions of horror.

Public credulity, founded on the inordinate desire of gain, was perhaps never exhibited in a stronger point of view than by the fatal belief in the South Sea scheme, which to the credulous believer, like that of Law’s Mississippi bubble, was made to appear a royal road to El Dorado. It was patronised by persons of both sexes in the highest ranks of society, and even by royalty itself and men of letters; Gay, the poet, had a present of some of the stock, and at one time believed himself worth twenty thousand pounds, but like others lost all; Chandler, the learned non-conformist divine, lost his whole fortune, and turned bookseller for subsistence.

The scheme originated in the reign of Queen Anne, in the year 1711, a fund being formed on the chimerical notion that the English would be allowed to trade to the coast of Peru. Sir John Blunt, who was bred a scriviner, devised the scheme, and communicated it to Aislabie, the chancellor of the exchequer. The pretence of this scheme was to discharge the national debt by reducing all the funds into one stock. The Bank of England and the South Sea Company vied with each other, and the latter ultimately offered such high terms that the proposal of the Bank was rejected, and the Company’s stock rose considerably. It produced a kind of national delirium. Sir John Blunt took this hint from Law’s scheme, which was that a royal bank be erected by subscription, and, having a fund in hand to answer bills on demand, the scheme began to take, and established its credit by its punctual discharge, till it increased to such extraordinary magnitude as to pay bills for one million and a quarter sterling a day.

In this project of Law, however, there was something substantial; an exclusive trade to Louisiana promised advantage, though the design was defeated by the frantic eagerness of the people. Law himself had become the dupe of the regent, who transferred the burden of fifteen hundred million of francs of the king’s debt to the shoulders of the people, while the projector was sacrificed as the scape-goat of political iniquity.

The South Sea scheme promised no commercial advantage of any consequence; it was buoyed by nothing but the folly and rapacity of individuals, who became so blinded with the prospect of gain as to become easy dupes.

When the projector found that the South Sea stock did not rise to his expectation, he circulated reports that Gibraltar and Port Mahon would be exchanged for some places in Peru, by which the South Sea trade would be protected and enlarged. This report acted like a contagion; persons of all ranks crowded to subscribe; the Exchange Alley was filled with a strange concourse of statesmen, clergymen, dissenters, whigs, tories, physicians, lawyers, &c. &c., and even females. All other professions and employments were neglected. Other companies without foundation were got up to deceive, and all found favour with the mad public. There were actually some shares of a fictitious company, called Globe Permits, each of which came at last to be currently sold for sixty guineas and upwards, and yet were only square bits of card, on which were the impression of a seal in wax, having the sign of the Globe tavern. A burlesque upon this reigning folly appeared in an advertisement for a company with a capital of two millions for melting down sawdust and chips, and casting them into clean deal boards without knots.

The public infatuation lasted till the 8th of September, when the stock began to fall and soon reached the point of being worthless. Public credit received a severe shock; the cunning ones devised a scheme for relief from the Bank of England, and sold out for what they could realize; some of the ministry were implicated. Knight, the Treasurer, fled the kingdom; the Committee of the House of Commons to investigate discovered a train of the deepest villany; the directors were seized, and it appeared that large sums had been given to persons in the administration and House of Commons for promoting the passing of the act, and a fictitious stock of five hundred and seventy-four thousand pounds had been disposed of by the directors to facilitate the passing of the bill. The Chancellor of the Exchequer was committed to the Tower and convicted of peculation; the estates of the most guilty directors were confiscated for the benefit of the sufferers.

In 1825 the general feeling for bubbles was again led captive by the unreasonable hopes of speculation. In January of that year there existed in London no less than one hundred and twenty speculating schemes, carried on by companies, often consisting of only the projector and his clerk, causing great misery and frequent ruin.

THE END.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Second Part of King Henry IV.

[2] There recently arrived in London a specimen of this species of manufacture; it is a singular relic, consisting of a very elaborate carving in wood of the Crucifixion, and is a ludicrous evidence of monkish trickery. A hole is perforated from behind, through which, by the application of a sponge dipped in blood, a stream was made to travel to the front, where it was seen to discharge itself from a crevice in the Saviour’s side, which stands for the spear-wound, so that the figure had the appearance of shedding real blood, and the drops so discharged were sold to the devotees at an enormous price.

[3] “The camels which have had the honour to bear presents to Mecca or Medina, are not to be treated afterwards as common animals. They are considered consecrated to Mahomet, which exempts them from all labour and service; they have cottages built for their abodes, where they live at ease and receive plenty of food, and the most careful attention.”--_Travels of Father Strope._

[4] “The rising of dead men’s bones every year in Egypt is a thing superstitiously believed by the Christian worshippers, and by the priests out of ignorance, or policy. Metrophanes, patriarch of Alexandria, thought the possibility of such an occurrence might be proved out of Isaiah, c. lxvi., v. 24, ‘and they shall go forth, and look upon the carcasses of the men that have transgressed against me.’ A Frenchman at Cairo, who had been present at the resurrection of these bones, showed me an arm from thence; the flesh was shrivelled and dried like the mummies. He observed the miracle to have been always performed _behind him_, and once casually looking back, he discovered some bones carried privately by an Egyptian, under his vest, whence he understood the mystery.”--_Sandys’s Travels._

[5] “It is as hard as a stone.”

[6] Balaam’s ass may remind the reader of the “Feast of the Ass.” In several churches in France they used to celebrate a festival, in commemoration of the Virgin Mary’s flight into Egypt. It was called the Feast of the Ass. A young girl richly dressed, with a child in her arms, was set upon an ass superbly caparisoned. The ass was led to the altar in solemn procession, high mass was said with great pomp, the ass was taught to kneel at proper places, a hymn, no less childish than impious, was sung in its praise, and when the ceremony was ended, the priest, instead of the usual words with which he dismissed the people, brayed three times like an ass; and the people, instead of the usual response, “We bless the Lord,” brayed three times in the same manner. Vide Du Cange, voc. Festum, vol. iii. p. 424.

[7] Quarterly Review, July, 1819; art. “British Monachism, by D. Fosbrooke.”

[8] In Candide, or the Optimist, there is an admirable stroke of Voltaire’s; eight travellers meet in an obscure inn, and some of them with not sufficient money to pay for a scurvy dinner. In the course of conversation they are discovered to be _eight monarchs_ in Europe, who had been deprived of their crowns. What gave point to this satire was, that these eight monarchs were not the fictitious majesties of the poetic brain; imperial shadows, like those that appeared to Macbeth; but living monarchs, who were wandering at that moment about the world.

[9] This was not the tree which gave the name to “Royal Oak Day.”

[10] The hair has often been found very useful as a means of concealment for other purposes. The Indian lavadores, whilst washing the sand, for the grains of gold, were observed by the overseers to be continually scratching their heads, or passing their fingers through their thick woolly hair. A suspicion arising, the hair was combed, and was found full of the gold grains. On keeping their hair quite short it was discovered that the necessity for such frequent application to the head had ceased.

[11] The editor saw her at Philadelphia, where she exhibited _once_ to a small audience, and then disappeared.

[12] This lover of truth, at the commencement of his pamphlet, with consummate assurance thus proposes himself as a private tutor: “Gentlemen who are desirous _to secure_ their children from ill example, by a domestic education, or are themselves inclined to gain or retrieve the knowledge of the Latin tongue, may be waited on at their houses, by the author of the following essay, upon the receipt of a letter directed to the publisher or author.--N.B. Mr. Lauder’s abilities, and industry in his profession, can be well attested by persons of the first rank in literature in this metropolis.”

[13] “Dr. Johnson, who had been so far imposed upon by Lauder, as to furnish a preface and postscript to his work, now dictated a letter for him, addressed to Dr. Douglas, acknowledging his fraud in terms of suitable contrition. This extraordinary attempt of Lauder’s was no sudden effort; he had brooded over it for years, and it is uncertain what his principal motive was.”--_Boswell’s Life of Johnson._

[14] The modern mode of copying coins enables any one with industry to possess a large cabinet.

[15] Dark blue is called, by the modern Egyptians, _eswed_, which properly signifies _black_, and is therefore so translated here.

[16] Mr. Matthews, the comedian, in his “Humours of a Country Fair,” has hardly exaggerated, in describing a quack thus reading acknowledgments from those cured by his specific. ‘Sir,--I was cut in two in a saw-pit, and cured by one bottle.’ ‘Sir,--By the bursting of a powder-mill, I was blown into ten thousand _anatomies_. The first bottle of your incomparable collected all the parts together; the second restored life and animation--before the third was finished, I was in my usual state of health.’ This hardly exceeds a reasonable satire on the presumptuous promises that _still_ frequently accompany each bottle or box licensed from _the Stamp Office_!

Transcriber’s Notes: - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - A few obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. - Otherwise spelling and hyphenation variations remain unchanged.