MEDICAL ASPECTS OF MENTAL HEALING
By H. G. G. Mackenzie, M.A., M.B.
I have been asked in this chapter to put together some recent expressions of opinion by members of my own profession on the subject of ‘mental’ and ‘spiritual’ healing. No attempt whatever is made to give an exhaustive summary. It will be sufficient for my purpose if I can make clear to the non-medicalreader—
(1) That there is nothing new in the elaborate and confident pretensions now being thrust forward by a variety of ‘healers.’
(2) That, so far from scientific medicine ‘standing helpless in the presence of a new phenomenon,’ she is in possession of a very large amount of clinical material on which quite definite conclusions have been formed; and, as always, she is perfectly ready to consider and investigate any new evidencewhich might tend to mitigate the force of such conclusions.
Now, there are obviously two main lines of investigation. We may consider (1) theà priorireasonableness of the claim that certain bodily diseases can be cured by ‘mental’ or spiritual processes, or we may proceed to (2) anà posterioriinvestigation of cases of alleged cures. A third method of investigation, that which is, of course, adopted inallcases of scientific treatment of disease by new methods, viz. the tabulation of all cases treated, with the diagnosis, extent of disease, immediate and permanent results, negative as well as positive, noted in each case, is not usually possible, since no psychic or spiritual healer whom I have ever met seems to consider such tabulation at all necessary or even desirable.
In the first place, I submit a somewhat long quotation from an admirablepaper11by one of the greatest medical authorities in the English-speaking world, Professor W. Osler.
‘An influenza-like outbreak of faith-healing seems to have the public of the American continent in its grip. It is an old story, the oldest indeed in our history, and one in whichwe have a strong hereditary interest, since scientific medicine took its origin in a system of faith-healing beside which all our modern attempts are feeble imitations. . . . Once or twice in each century the serpent entwining the staff of Æsculapius gets restless, contorts, and in his gambols swallows his tail, and all at once in full circle back upon us come old thoughts and old practices which for a time dominate alike doctors and laity. As a profession we took origin in the cult of Æsculapius . . . whose temples were at once magnificent shrines and hospitals. . . . Amid lovely surroundings, chosen for their salubrity, and connected with famous springs, they were the sanatoriums of the ancient world. The ritual of the cure is well known, and has been beautifully described by Pater in Marius the Epicurean. . . . The popular shrines of the Catholic Church to-day are in some ways the direct descendants of this Æsculapian cult, and the cures and votive offerings at Lourdes and Ste. Anne are in every way analogous to those of Epidaurus.’
Osler goes on to speak with much tenderness of the apparently ineradicable nature of the credulity evinced not merely by the multitude but by persons educated widely, if not well, in the matter of the healing of disease. It is indeed a portentous fact. Theslightest acquaintance with the history of therapeutics, the most casual examination of the evidence of alleged cures, the faintest stirring of the reasoning faculty, as the votary asks himself whether the foremost pathologists who work continuously with the best available material in an institution devoted to the scientific study of cancer will not be more likely to arrive at a correct estimate of the probability of cure, by means other than extirpation, than a quite uninstructedmasseurwho has taken to ‘spiritual healing,’ these, one would suppose, would be sufficient to check the growth of credulity which we see in such evidence around us. Yet the reader will probably feel that Osler is not going beyond the warrant of easily ascertainable fact when he says:
‘We must acknowledge its potency to-day as effective among the most civilised people, the people with whom education is the most widely spread, yet who absorb with wholesale credulity delusions as childish as any that have enslaved the mind of man.’
Professor Osler’s conclusion is worth quoting:
‘Having recently had to look over a large literature on the subject of mental healing, ancient and modern, I have tried to put thematter as succinctly as possible. In all ages and in all climes the prayer of faith has saved a certain number of the sick. The essentials are, first, a strong and hopeful belief in a dominant personality, which has varied naturally in different countries and in different ages: Buddha in India and in Japan, where there are cults to match every recent vagary; Æsculapius in ancient Greece and Rome; our Saviour and a host of Saints in Christian communities; and, lastly, an ordinary doctor has served the purpose of common necessity very well. Faith is the most precious asset in our stock-in-trade. Once lost, how long does a doctor keep his clientele? Secondly, certain accessories—a shrine, a grotto, a church, a temple, a hospital, a sanatorium [Osler might have added the admirably devised entourage in such places as ‘Physical Culture’ Institutes and ‘light cure’ establishments], surroundings that will impress favourably the imagination of the patient. Thirdly, suggestion in one of its varied forms—whether the negation of disease and pain [as among the ‘Eddyites’], the simple trust in Christ of the Peculiar People, or the sweet reasonableness of the psychotherapeutist. But there must be the will-to-believe attitude of mind, the mental receptiveness—in a word, the faith whichhas made bread-pills famous in the history of medicine.’ We must, however, recognise the limitations of ‘mental healing.’ ‘Potent as is the influence of the mind on the body, and many as are the miracle-like cures which may be worked, all are in functional disorders, and we know only too well that nowadays the prayer of faith neither sets a broken thigh nor checks an epidemic of typhoid fever.’
The following extract is from an article in theBritish Medical Journalof March 13, 1909. The article begins by quoting from a paper by Dr. Allan Hamilton (U.S.A.) to the following effect:
‘In all this agitation, it would almost seem as if the intelligent physician had never made use of psychotherapy, but that he was a mechanical giver of drugs and took little or no interest in his patients. If the new critics of the medical profession, who have been so active of late, would take the trouble to investigate, they would often find, among the great and successful men of all times and of to-day, that the human side is very strongly developed, and that their patients are studied from every point of view, and treated accordingly.’
‘We would add,’ says the writer of the article in theBritish Medical Journal, ‘thatthe intelligent application of the physician’s knowledge of the influence of the body on the mind is the one condition of success in the difficult art of dealing with patients and reinforcing the curative power of Nature or, what comes to the same thing, enabling sufferers to work out their own deliverance from the thraldom of functional disease. All really great physicians have used this force, sometimes, it may be, unconsciously, but often with deliberate intent. It is the power of influencing the mind of the patient or, in other words, of exciting confidence in his gift of healing, that makes what is called “personal magnetism.” ’
At this point I may be permitted to offer one or two observations.
(1) To speak quite strictly, it is not a question of‘à priori’ possibility or impossibility. As Huxley pointed out, twenty years ago, few things can be said to beimpossibleexcept mathematical misstatements or manifest contradictions. Thus 2 + 2 cannot possibly yield any result but 4. A square circle, a raised depression, are, in the strictest sense of the term,impossibilities. But, with regard to an enormous number of alleged phenomena popularly styledimpossible, what is really meant is either that they are not impossible at all, but only in some high degree improbable,or that we have not sufficient knowledge to enable us to say whether or not they are impossible. In any case, before accepting them, we are bound as honest men to demand evidence which may be thoroughly sifted. The sort of stuff which we usually get, when we ask for such evidence, will be instanced at a later stage.
(2) Again, to speak quite strictly, I do not know that anyone would care to draw a hard-and-fast line between what is ‘functional’ and what is ‘organic.’ These terms are extremely convenient, but we must remember that they are only terms. There is an oft-recurring danger, against which we all require to be continually on our guard, of falling into the old error of the realists. ‘Animate and inanimate’ (assuming that the recent claim to have demonstrated in metals a process of reproduction analogous to those observed in protoplasm is endorsed, as seems probable), ‘genus and species,’ ‘animal and vegetable,’ these and many others are eminently useful classifications, and the border line between each and its opposite varies from comparative precision to extreme vagueness. But in no case are they absolutely precise in the sense in which the distinction between an integer and a vulgar fraction is precise. And in thematter of the terms ‘functional’ and ‘organic’ we must walk very warily indeed. Is epilepsy a functional neurosis or an organic disease? Analogy suggests organic changes. No such changes have been constantly demonstrated bypost mortemevidence; partly, of course, becausepost mortemexaminations of cases of death in the epileptic or epileptiform condition have been extremely rare, and are not very common in cases where there is a well-authenticated history of attacks; but partly because our investigations into the minute anatomy of many morbid conditions are at present barred by the limitations of microscopic vision. We have no right whatever to assert dogmatically that there is no organic change in a tissue because we cannot see it under a magnification of 1000 diameters—though for a variety of reasons, which all pathologists will recognise, it is not altogetherprobablethat a magnification of 10,000 diameters would in such cases demonstrate a constant change. In any case, if we are told by a spiritual or psychic healer that he cures cases of, let us say, old-standing chronic nephritis or cirrhosis of the liver by his own peculiar methods, our reply must be, not that this is impossible because we are dealing with organic disease, but ratherthat—
(1) If he claims to act mentally or spirituallyon the higher centres of the brain and so to reach the diseased tissues, a cure is in the highest degree unlikely, for a reason which will be given at a later stage;
(2) If his method is avowedly quite empirical, and he only professes to exercise a power which he does not even dimly understand, we must respectfully ask for evidence, which can be examined and tested to the satisfaction of a competent and impartial mind.
Now, as to the influence of ‘suggestion,’ whether or not accompanied by other methods, e.g. hypnotism, magnetism, electricity, &c., on (so-called) functional conditions, modern medical science speaks with no uncertain voice.
At a meeting of the Harveian Society held last October, much interesting information was produced.
A paper of great and permanent value was read by Dr. Claye Shaw on the ‘Influence of Mind as a therapeutic agent.’ It is impossible in the space at my disposal to quote more than two brief extracts from his paper. He thus defines ‘suggestion’:
‘Suggestion is the insinuation of a belief or impulse into the mind of a subject by any means, or by words or questions, usually by emphatic declaration; also the impulse oftrust and submission which leads to the effectiveness of such incitement.’
On the effects of treatment by suggestion, Dr. Claye Shaw writes:
‘It is with such conditions as chronic inebriety, opium, or the drug habit, that suggestion is most powerful; with acute insanity I have not seen it successful, and, though it has been fairly tested in asylum practice, it has not obtained general recognition as a therapeutic agent.’
A considerable number of medical men, alienists and others, took part in the discussion which followed the reading of the paper.
Dr. Bramwell cited many well-authenticated cases where a cure or marked amelioration had followed treatment by suggestion in cases of this kind which had resisted all other treatment. Among these were instances of neurasthenia (‘la grande hystérie’), claustrophobia, morphomania, tendency to suicide, a morbid fear of cats. Dr. Seymour Tuke said that he had found ‘suggestive treatment marvellously effective in cases of inebriety in which the will was under some sort of control,’ but that he was ‘unable to make encouraging report of the use of hypnotism and suggestion amongst insane patients.’ [A useful and discriminating testimony.] Dr.Lloyd Tuckey had cured ‘many cases of genuine dipsomania, which could not be reached by drugs, by hypnotism—as well as other intractable conditions, such as three cases of Menière’s disease.’ Dr. R. H. Cole said that, twenty years ago, when he was a House Physician, he first tried to hypnotise patients. Later, he went to Paris and attended the ‘Salpétrière and Bernheim’s cliniques, but was greatly disappointed in what he saw. . . . In his experience of mental diseases he had only seen it do good in one insane patient. It had never had any effect in his experience upon people with fixed delusions, but it would cure dipsomania.’ Dr. T. F. Woods had treated 4000 cases, and he described a few of them in which he had obtained remarkable results. One was that of a woman, with severe asthma and delusions that she was going to be cut in pieces, who was cured by suggestion at one sitting, and had kept well ever since. Another case of severe sciatica, which had resisted every line of treatment for eight months, was also cured rapidly. He did not find it necessary to induce hypnotic sleep. Dr. E. A. Ash thought that ‘genuine hypnotism (the state of somnambulism) was unsatisfactory in practice. Only a small proportion of cases could be hypnotised, and thesein his experience did no better than those treated by simple suggestion. He quoted two cases of nocturnal enuresis, one of which he had failed to cure by hypnotism, whilst the other was cured by suggestion, and a case of blepharospasm, which had been cured by suggestion, with light massage on the eyelids, although a similar case treated only by suggestion had not been relieved.’ Dr. W. H. Blake described ‘a series of cases in which he had used hypnotism with the utmost benefit. . . . His most remarkable cures had been effected in a case of asthma, for which the patient was accustomed to drench himself unavailingly with drugs, and in a severe case of dipsomania.’
Here we have grouped together the expression of the opinions of trained minds of responsible medical men. The differences are comparatively slight. The agreement is remarkable. Not one of them (though in one case as many as 4000 records are in his hands) claims to have cured what are usually called organic conditions. The whole question is as to the best way in which suggestion can be brought to bear on patients whose lives are in many cases rendered miserable by persistent, but none the less ‘functional,’ ailments.
Moreover, we observe that the result ofyears of patient clinical investigation is to lead them to treat every variety of psychic therapeutics as a form of ‘suggestion.’ In no case is there so much as a hint that a new force, viz. ‘spiritual healing,’ has appeared, different in kind not only from other varieties of suggestion but from the countless cults of spiritual healing, which have flourished and disappeared in the past or the relics of which still survive in many continental and eastern shrines.
Now, with regard to ‘spiritual healing’ in its present manifestation in our own country the general attitude of medical science is well described in an article which appeared in theBritish Medical Journalof January 9, 1909. The article begins by describing some meetings of different societies, in some cases mutually antagonistic, but all existing for the purpose of advancing the claims of healing by ‘spiritual’ means. It goes on to say:
‘If all or any of them can show that they have discovered a new force, or a new method of applying one already known, to the cure of disease, rational medicine will welcome a new weapon. As we have often said, the wise physician understands the action of the mind or the spirit on the body, and uses it for the benefit of his patient. A man who firmlybelieves in his doctor’s skill, or in the efficacy of the treatment to which he is subjected, is in the best possible condition for the operation of curative forces. On the other hand, a patient who believes that nothing can cure him helps to seal his own doom. Avicenna well said,Plus interdum prodesse fiduciam in medicum quam ipsam medicinam. The “lady of the highest rank,” who is reported to have said that she would rather die under the care of Sir Henry Halford than recover under that of any other physician, must have been a living tribute to his skill.
‘The fact cannot be too much insisted upon that there is nothing in the least new about faith healing. It is as old as medicine and religion, which in the beginning were one, as they still are among many savage tribes. Faith can move mountains, and it matters little on what it is based or how it is excited. As John Hunter has told us, the touch of a dead man’s hand has charmed away a tumour. But there are limits to its action, and while willing to accept faith as an adjuvant, no one who knows anything about disease will admit that by itself it can heal any but ailments the origin of which lies hid in the unknown recesses of the nervous system. By all means let us know the full power of the spirit over the body.Only let us have facts that can be fairly and fully tested. A scientifically trained doctor takes nothing on trust, and there can be no useful co-operation between medicine and spiritual healing unless the facts of each case are fully disclosed. That is the point where science and faith part company; the former is as importunate as Arthur Clennam at the Circumlocution Office, and the wonder workers are as painfully surprised at this as the youthful Barnacle was at the persistence of “the fella that wanted to know, you know.” ’
Let us dispose at once of one simple question of fact. Modern medical science has given the ‘spiritual healers,’ who claim to cure any and every disease by touch or prayer or unction, an absolutely fair hearing. Evidence is asked for, and, if it is forthcoming, is patiently investigated, no matter how antecedently unlikely may be the pretensions which such evidence is brought forward to support.
The general attitude of mind of the supporters of the ‘spiritual healers’ is shown by the following illuminating extract, quoted by Sir H. Morris in the course of a recent lecture on ‘Looking back’:
‘We have no difficulty in believing that ulcers that have a malignant aspect may behealed by the hope that comes from a potent suggestion. We have ourselves known of more than one case in which every clinical sign of malignant disease of the stomach was present, and in which a cure was effected by means that could only have derived their potency from suggestion.’
People who are prepared to accept thiswithout clearly ascertained and properly sifted evidencewill accept anything. They simply believe what they wish to believe. When one widely advertised ‘case of spiritual healing’ breaks down on investigation, another is put forward.
Indeed, for the most part they have no idea as to what constitutes evidence in these matters. In many cases the unsupported statement of a patient, as to the diagnosis pronounced by a medical man, is calmly accepted by them as though there were no need of further investigation. We have heard, perhaps, more than enough of a highly placed dignitary of the Church who believes (no doubt quite sincerely) that he was cured of cancer by the ministrations of one of these ‘healers,’ after an absolute diagnosis as to the existence of an inoperable tumour had been made by a leading specialist. The repeated denial by the specialist in question, that he eversupposed the condition which he examined to be cancerous, makes no difference. The patient continues to announce as a fact what is almost demonstrably untrue; and his followers will no doubt continue to accept his statement in preference to first-hand evidence, so long as this particular cult survives.
But, for those who are not blinded by ignorant credulity, the following extracts from a letter from Dr. Combe Atthill may be of interest. Dr. Atthill’s experience could, of course, be paralleled by any medical man of long practice:
‘Shortly after I retired from practice, some ten years ago, a well-known clergyman wrote to me, saying that members of his congregation were being much disturbed by the advent amongst them of a lady professing herself to be a faith healer, and saying that her conversion was due to the fact of my having told her that she was suffering from a dreadful disease, and that her sole hope of cure lay in the performance of a very dangerous operation. She refused to submit to this, and instead placed herself in the hands of “the healer,” and was cured. He concluded by asking me to give him particulars of her case.
‘I had no recollection of any such patient, but, as the name was given, I traced her, andfound the following particulars recorded in my case book.
‘I had only seen the lady once in my own house, when she stated that she was well past middle life, and for more than a year had been weakened by a well-known condition.
‘On my telling her I must examine her she replied that she could not submit to it that day for sufficient reasons, so I arranged that when she was in a condition for examination she would let me know, and I would call on her and examine her. I made no diagnosis, and gave no opinion as to the nature of the case. I said no word about performing an operation.
‘Instead of writing to me to call on her, she went to London. No doubt an examination would have revealed the fact that no disease ever existed.
‘It is impossible to deal with patients of this class. Their mental equilibrium is disturbed; they distort what the doctor may say, and not infrequently invent and circulate statements he never made.’
Special attention has been directed of late to the claims of the ‘Society of Emmanuel.’ This society appears to profess adherence tothe tenets of the Church of England, though, except for Dr. Mylne (formerly Bishop of Bombay), no well-known churchman, lay or cleric, seems to be a member of the executive. The names of some ladies of title are given in the list of the General Committee. The president and principal ‘healer’ is a Mr. James M. Hickson. The objects of the society are closely akin to those of other similar societies, except that they have a distinctly ‘Church’ flavour. For instance:
‘To develop the Divine gifts left to His Church by the Master, especially the gift of healing by prayer and laying on of hands, with the object of using these Divine gifts . . . for the healing of the body.’
A perusal of its literature reveals the usual pretension to cure and to have cured any and every disease. Nothing like a tabulated list of cases treated appears anywhere. The society has now opened a ‘Hospice,’ where free treatment (by prayer and laying on of hands, &c.) is given by the aforesaid Mr. Hickson.
For some time theBritish Medical Journal, the official organ of the British Medical Association, called attention to widely advertised ‘cures,’ and asked for information which would make it possible for an investigation into the true facts to be carried out. Theresults were hardly satisfactory. Here are some of the cases:
(1) In theBritish Medical Journal(May 1, 1909) the following case is given as recorded inThe Healer(the organ of the Society of Emmanuel):
‘The patient fell and injured the patella, which had previously been broken four times—two doctors expressed the opinion that he would never have full use of the knee again. It was very painful and quite callous (sic) at the time of the first treatment by prayer, but in twenty minutes he was able to bend it without help; the following day to walk about the house, and after four visits to resume ordinary duties.’
Inquiries failed to elicit any details which would enable investigation to be made.
(2) From theBritish Medical Journalof June 5, 1909:
‘Mr. Hickson is reported to have said that he has another case of “cancer of the throat” under his care; the patient had undergone two operations before going to him, and is now apparently getting well. We should be glad to have particulars of so interesting a case, but we doubt whether they will be forthcoming.’
Apparently they were not. But the case was identified without difficulty. A clergyman,the vicar of a country parish in the Oxford diocese, was under ‘treatment’ by Mr. Hickson at this time for what was undoubtedly cancer (epithelioma) of the larynx. A friend of mine who saw him in the summer described him as being quite certain that he was being cured, though he looked extremely ill and could hardly speak above a whisper. A few weeks later the patient died. If Mr. Hickson has anywhere publicly announced the failure of his ‘treatment’ in this case, after having stated that the patient was ‘apparently getting well,’ no such announcement has come under my notice.
(3) In its issue of June 12, 1909, theBritish Medical Journalpublished a quotation from theEvening News, which ran as follows:
‘The following account of a cure of cancer is furnished by a lady member of the Society of Emmanuel: “The patient was a Bishop of the Church of England. The doctors abandoned all hope of a cure. Then Mr. Hickson took the case in hand. He arrived on the morning of the day on which the sufferer had to undergo an operation. Mr. Hickson prayed with him and anointed him, followed by a laying on of hands (sic). In the afternoon the surgeon arrived and made his examination. He was greatly surprised.‘The case puzzles me,’ he said. ‘There is a mark of a new wound, but the cancer has gone!’ The cleric in question is now perfectly well, and was with us the other day, but I believe the surgeon has not yet recovered from his surprise.” ’
The usual request to Mr. Hickson or any member of the Society of Emmanuel to furnish details of this truly miraculous cure, which could serve as a basis of investigation, followed, but no reply came to hand. Again, I ask, has Mr. Hickson publicly repudiated this account of his healing powers?
(4) The following is an extract from an article in theBritish Medical Journalof May 22, 1909:
‘SPIRITUAL HEALING AND CANCER.
‘One of the most serious difficulties in arriving at a correct conclusion as to the curative powers claimed for spiritual healing is the intangible nature of the evidence. For instance, most of the patients on behalf of whom prayers were asked in the earlier numbers ofThe Healer—which is published by Mr. J. M. Hickson, and which, we suppose, may be regarded as the organ of the Society of Emmanuel of which that gentleman is the president—are vaguelydescribed as suffering from “rheumatism,” “loss of nerve power,” “spinal trouble,” “internal weakness,” “low vitality and great weakness,” “heart trouble,” “internal trouble.” Some, indeed, are said to be the subjects of “locomotor ataxy” and “consumption,” but no particulars are given by which the diagnosis can be checked, and it is difficult or impossible to trace the result of the treatment. In a report of the past year published in the number for November 1908, Mr. Hickson does give some details of a few cases. The two following taken at random may be given as specimens: “Priest. Cancer in bowel. Specialist, who examined him nine months ago under an anaesthetic, said that an operation was impossible, and that he could not live for more than about three months. He then sought help through Divine Healing, when he was anointed with oil in the name of the Lord, and Mr. Hickson laid his hands on him in prayer, after which he was examined by the same Specialist, who found that a process of absorption was taking place. He is now quite well.” “Lady’s Maid. Age about 28. Suffering from rupture, which gave great pain. One year under treatment at Middlesex Hospital, and, while waiting for an in-patient’s bed for operation, was advised to seek help through DivineHealing. After three visits to Mr. Hickson, two months ago, she is now quite well and strong, with no pain or swelling. Her mistress also reports that serious defects of her character are no longer apparent and her whole spiritual nature is quickened and her duties are better done.”
‘These cases are sufficiently definite to be tested, and we should be glad if Mr. Hickson would supply us with the information necessary for the purpose. We should undertake not to publish the names of the patients or any particulars by which they could be identified. We should place the results of our investigation honestly before our readers.’
Result: No reply. If the first of these cases is the one already referred to, it will be observed that the clear and definite denial of the specialist in question goes for nothing; also that, like all other stories of the kind, this has lost nothing in the telling.
(5) The article goes on:
‘In the meantime, we have succeeded in tracing a case more remarkable than either of the two just cited, and the result is very instructive. It was related in the third number ofThe Healer(March 1908, p. 9) by the Right Rev. L. G. Mylne, D.D., formerly Bishop of Bombay, in a paper entitled “TheAnointing of the Sick for their Healing.” It has already been quoted in theBritish Medical Journalof January 9, 1909, p. 109; but, to enable the reader to form a correct judgment on the subject, it must be repeated here. Bishop Mylne said: “In the latest up-to-date book on cancer, which is in the hands of the most scientific men of to-day, there is a case quoted which is, I have no doubt, correctly said to be a unique one ofabortivecancer. The case is fully described from a medical point of view—how a patient, stricken unquestionably with cancer, was found to have, in place of the tumour, something which could only be called abortive cancer, the like of which was never heard of before. I happen to know the whole history of the case from the brother of the patient, himself a medical man. It was this: The patient had been suffering from a serious affection of the throat. He went to one specialist after another. Three eminent men told him without hesitation that he was suffering from a cancer growing on the vocal cords, and that nothing but their total excision could save his life. He was a hard-working priest of our Church, and, of course, the operation meant that he would never utter a word again. However, his life had to be saved. The doctors came; thethroat was laid open; the operator had his knife in his hand to excise the vocal cords. He stopped dead. Instead of applying the blade of the knife, he took hold, between his thumb and the handle, of all he found there, and peeled it off, just like the skin of a fruit. Between the diagnosis and the operation the patient had been anointed with oil in the name of the Lord. That is one of not a few cases which some of us know about, but it is by far the best defined one I know of, and one that is actually celebrated in medical circles; not, of course, being quoted as an instance of what may be done by anointing, but as a case unique in surgical experience.” We went on to say that we should be glad to have fuller particulars, and we respectfully invited Bishop Mylne to furnish us with the name of the “latest up-to-date book on cancer” from which he quoted.
‘In the meantime, we had been put on the track of the case by a distinguished physician, and had obtained a report of the case from the surgeon who operated. All, therefore, that was wanting was the name of the book from which the quotation purported to be taken. We communicated with Bishop Mylne on the subject, and we have to acknowledge the courtesy with which he received ourrequest for information and the pains he took to procure it for us.His Lordship was, however, unable to gain the consent of those to whom he applied to help in any way in supplying an answer to a very simple question.12As the matter is one of general interest not only to the medical profession but to the whole of mankind, we think it right to give the true facts of the case, of course without disclosing the patient’s identity.
‘The operator was Mr. Butlin, who has been good enough to give us permission to publish the following account. He saw the patient, who was at that time thirty-seven years of age, in 1890. There was then a very white patch, flat and sessile, on the middle of the left vocal cord, looking like a papillary growth. A month later the surface seemed to be ulcerated. The patient was seen by other well-known specialists, who, like Mr. Butlin himself, were puzzled as to the nature of the disease. Tubercle, papillary growth and malignantdisease were in turn considered, but no definite conclusion was arrived at. The patient was treated in various ways for four months before it was thought right to open the larynx. Mr. Butlin then operated in the presence of an eminent specialist, a distinguished surgeon, and another medical man, a friend of the patient.’
Somewhat to curtail the account, let me simply say that when the larynx was opened it appeared that they had to do with a case either of what is known as leukoplakia or a rather rare form of papilloma. The latter seemed on the face of it to be the more probable, though evidently Mr. Butlin did not think so. Whatever it was, it was certainly not malignant. It was scraped away without difficulty: no signs of infiltration were observed, and, when last heard of, the patient’s recovery seemed to be complete. The rest of the article in theBritish Medical Journalconsists of some criticisms of Dr. Mylne’s proceedings, which certainly do not appear to me to err on the side of severity.
The Society of Emmanuel has at last consented to allow the British Medical Association to carry out a full investigation into its alleged cures. The report will be interesting reading. Incidentally, it will be instructiveto note how many of the above cases have been submitted to the investigators.
Meanwhile, the danger is a real one. Probably an investigation into the facts of the ‘cures’ reported by other ‘psychotherapeutic’ societies would yield much the same results as have attended the inquiries into the claims of the Society of Emmanuel. Not one of them, so far as I know, even attempts to put its work on a scientific basis; and all claim implicitly, if not explicitly, that they possess a power to cure the most malignant organic diseases as well as functional neuroses.
If this cult is allowed to spread among the ignorant and credulous (and it seems to me that,pari passuwith waning faith, the most childish credulity is rapidly increasing in our midst, often appearing in the most unexpected places), a golden opportunity will be offered to plausible impostors, without even the pretence of a scientific training, to set up as ‘healers’ and reap a rich harvest of gain. A few startling successes will be widely advertised, and the huge tale of failures quietly ignored. But a more serious danger lies behind.
I take the following from theBritish Medical Journalof May 1, 1909:
‘A man with some slight symptoms of bladder trouble consulted an eminent specialist, who discovered a small growth which could easily have been removed. It was arranged that the patient should undergo an operation. In the meantime he fell among Christian Scientists, who persuaded him that he was quite well. And, indeed, for a time the symptoms almost ceased. But the insidious disease remorselessly went its way, till the unfortunate patient was past all surgery.’
If it be said that the societies I have mentioned repudiate all connexion with Christian Science, I reply that by their fruits must they be judged. Both Christian Science and the various associations for spiritual healing profess to heal any and every disease, and offer proofs of their claim, which, whenever they have been tested, have been shown to be utterly without foundation.
In a book which has recently appeared, ‘Body and Soul,’ by the Rev. Percy Dearmer, we have a serious and able attempt to put ‘spiritual healing’ on a scientific basis. Considerations of space do not permit me to deal as fully as I should wish with this reallyinteresting book, but, if I may try to put the general argument into a single paragraph, Mr. Dearmer’s contention is as follows:
Bodily functions and bodily health are regulated and sustained by what may be called the lower nerve centres in the medulla of the brain. It is by the exercise of these centres, which in turn control the circulation, the secretion of various glands, &c., that the body combats disease. This work is continually going on and we are for the most part quite unconscious of it. But, says Mr. Dearmer, ‘we now know that these centres are in direct connexion with the higher centres of the cortex of the brain.’ I should think we do. So did our ancestors a hundred years ago. Their knowledge of the work of such centres as the vasomotor, the respiratory, the heat-regulating, &c., was fragmentary and imperfect to the last degree, but not one of them had any doubt that myriads of nerve fibres connected the cortex with the medulla. Let us, therefore, know how to stimulate the cortex, and all disease (organic as well as functional) can be cured. Hence, when our Lord cured Bartimæus’s blindness, and when a ‘healer’ cures locomotor ataxy, they are performing a function quite as natural as in the case of a doctor who cures malaria with quinine or restores theuse of muscles in musculo-spiral paralysis by the use of the interrupted current.
This sounds plausible enough. There is nothing very new in it; indeed, when we come to analyse it, we shall see that, so far as general principles go, there is nothing which was not perfectly familiar in Sydenham’s day, or which the most materialistic practitioner of our own time would not admit without a moment’s hesitation. But, of the limitations of his process, Mr. Dearmer only seems to have a confused idea. Let us take one of the instances which he adduces in illustration of his argument. He is speaking (p. 33) of the familiar phenomenon of blushing. ‘When a person blushes,’ says our author, ‘the small arteries are relaxed and dilate, the amount of blood in them is increased, and this hot red fluid flows in such quantities through the capillaries of the skin that the skin itself becomes hot and red. It is strange that the thought “He says I am a pretty girl” should cause the small arteries to behave in this way; but the physiological explanation is simple enough. These arteries are supplied with muscles which regulate them, and all muscles are worked by nerves. The thought in the higher conscious centres has somehow seen fit to hitch itself on to the arterial muscles, just as when we telephoneto a friend in the City the exchange connects us on to his office.Now, supposing it to be possible to cure a man, say of indigestion by thought, the process would be the same.’
‘Supposing it to be possible to cure a man of indigestion by thought,’ this is a statement which no one would wish to dispute. But I expect Mr. Dearmer would be surprised to hear that the analogy of the excitation of the vaso-dilator centre, which causes blushing, can be applied to only a few varieties of indigestion. Roughly, the commonest causes of indigestion might be said to be: (a) anæmia, or an insufficient supply of blood to the mucous membrane of the stomach; (b) an imperfect secretion of hydrochloric acid and the digestive fluids owing to structural defects in the glands of the stomach, usually a hereditary condition; (c) a dilated organ; (d) some pathological condition of the accessory large glands, e.g. liver and pancreas; (e) dyspepsia, owing to faulty balance of the nervous system. Any one of these five is fairly common, but only in the last is there a shred of evidence for supposing that suggestion or any other factor which would cause the higher, and through them the lower, nervous centres to show a healthy activity, would bring about amelioration or a cure, while there is muchevidence against any supposition of the kind.
Mr. Dearmer elsewhere lays it down that healing by excitation of the ‘undermind’ is only possible where the case is ‘curable.’ If, he says in effect, the case is incurable, then anything like spiritual or faith healing or suggestion will fail to bring about a cure [will the faith-healers kindly take note of this admission?],but so will any other more material means. To this one may be permitted to reply:
(i) In many acute infections, e.g. scarlet fever, typhoid fever, cholera, where complete recovery may be expected if (a) the infection is not too virulent, (b) the resisting power of the tissues is vigorous and unimpaired, suggestion in any form—hope, the desire to live, the unexpected arrival of a much-loved friend, &c.—will most certainly assist the patient to battle with the disease. But these factors will always operate without the elaboration of a psychotherapeutic philosophy, and really I do not like the idea of encouraging the adoption of a solemn form of prayer, unction, and the laying on of hands, when all the evidence to hand points to this ‘treatment’ having in acute infections just as much value as (but no more than) the realisation on the part of the patient that, if he dies at thatparticular time, his business will be left in an unsatisfactory condition and perhaps in incompetent hands.
(ii) In the case of what are usually termed chronic ‘organic’ conditions, honours are no longer even. Let us take four crucial examples.
(a) Malignant tumours.
Certainly we have no warrant for supposing that in any, except cases of the extremest rarity, the ‘undermind’ can possibly effect a cure. But in a very large number of cases which are taken sufficiently early and are otherwise favourable, extirpation by the surgeon’s knife can and does save the life of the individual and prevent recurrence of the tumour. I say again that an attitude of hesitancy on this subject by those who, like Mr. Dearmer, approach the question in a scientific spirit, and their quasi-acceptance of the alleged cures of cancer by spiritual and other healers, which hopelessly break down when anything like impartial investigation is brought to bear on them—all this is likely to be productive of infinite harm. In the case of cancer or sarcoma a day’s delay may make the whole difference between hope and despair.
(b) A class of disease of which a good example is tuberculous affections of bone.
Here we have to do with what is strictly a non-malignant condition. That is to say, there is always a fair ground for hoping that surgery may operate like auxiliary steam power in the battleships of the Crimean period. Help nature (or the ‘undermind’) enough and, other conditions being favourable, a tolerably satisfactory result may be expected. But, really, clinical experience in all civilised communities for the past fifty or sixty years must be allowed to have some value; and the value surely lies in this, that the experienced surgeon knows more or less exactly when to excise or scrape and when to refrain. That anyone should prefer to this the services of some unqualified, inexperienced ‘healer,’ who bids his patient trust in prayer, unction, or whatever his method is, telling him that if his faith is sufficient the largest sinus will be cleared up and the most distressing ankylosis broken down, simply strikes me with amazement. If the ‘healers’ really wish us to believe their claims, let them produce a properly codified list of cases which can be thoroughly investigated.
(c) Diseases in which certain drugs are empirically known to act with marked success, e.g. malaria. Here, properly graduated quantities of quininecananddoeffect anabsolute cure. There is no evidence whatever that suggestion in any form can do the same.
(d) What may be called progressive organic conditions, e.g. cirrhosis of the liver.
I entirely agree that, in the conditions of which this is an example, scientific medicine can only hope to ameliorate and render life more tolerable to the sufferer.
But here I come to close grips with our author, whose close and fair reasoning it is a real pleasure to follow. In a very large proportion of the diseases from which people die, the pathological condition consists in the deposition of fibrous tissue in some organ or part of the general system. The causes and clinical varieties are endless, but the result the same. To instance only a few, we have:
(a) Granular kidney, i.e. chronic Bright’s disease.
(b) Cirrhotic liver.
(c) Arterio-sclerosis, resulting in cerebral hæmorrhage (stroke—apoplexy—paralysis).
(d) Locomotor ataxy.
(e) Tuberculous peritonitis with adhesions.
Now, in all these, the fibrous tissue is first deposited as an effort on the part of Nature to repair the damage done by an acute or chronic inflammation. But, unfortunately, not onlydoes this fibrous tissue take the place of normal cells, whose activity is of the utmost importance in preserving the health of the individual, but it invariably tends after a time to contract; from which contraction further damage and the gravest results are likely to ensue. It will be observed that in its simplest form a fibrotic change is of the nature of real repair. Thus, after a deep cut or extensive injury to the skin, we all know that a ‘scar’ results. This affords admirable protection to the damaged area. Nor does the subsequent contraction seriously matter. Care has to be taken to allow for it in the treatment of extensive burns, and considerable allowance is made for contraction in the suturing of skin incisions made in the course of an operation. But except when the scar is on the face, where it is objectionable for cosmetic reasons, a contracting superficial scar is seldom a cause of serious inconvenience. But the case is very different in the kidney or the spinal cord. Contraction there causes an extensive destruction of delicate cells, and, by cutting off the blood supply, a great impairment of function, if not actual necrosis, of an infinite number of cells which were not directly affected by the preceding inflammation. And so the vicious circle goes on.
Does Nature make no effort to play the part of the spear of Achilles and ‘heal the wounds which she herself has made’? Only to a negligible extent, on account of the vicious circle just alluded to. So we have the curious phenomenon that in the skin and round the broken ends of a fractured bone (for what is called callus is really only fibrous tissue with special bony elements superimposed) fibrous tissue is very slowly but more or less steadily absorbed; while in the places where such absorption would be of the utmost value to the individual it hardly takes place at all.
Now, the reader will observe that this fibrous tissue is, in the first instance, laid down by the activity of leucocytes acting, to some extent at any rate, in obedience to impulses from the circulatory centres of the medulla, to which Mr. Dearmer quite rightly attaches considerable importance. They make up, in fact, his ‘undermind.’ I can only say that, so far as any pathological evidence which we possess justifies us in coming to a definite conclusion, we can but suppose that a stimulation of these lower centres to greater activity, by excitation through suggestion of the higher ones, would lead to a further deposition of fibrous tissue, to the great detriment of the general condition of the patient. Any attemptat subsequent absorption seems to be practically negligible.
So, in the case of blind Bartimæus, Mr. Dearmer’s contention that our Lord acted by suggestion is almost demonstrably untrue. At least, it is only even remotely probable on the supposition that Bartimæus was suffering from snow blindness, toxic amblyopia, or one of those rare conditions following on such a sudden, but transitory, disturbance of the nervous system as sea-sickness. And since snow blindness is for obvious reasons unknown in Palestine, and since he certainly did not use tobacco, and probably, like most Jews, hated the sea, this does not seem to be a likely explanation. If, on the other hand, it was a case of corneal opacity following trachoma, cataract, or glaucoma, or some condition resulting in atrophy of the optic nerve, it may be safely affirmed that the method of healing was emphatically not that so carefully worked out by Mr. Dearmer.
The whole question of our Lord’s miracles of healing, regarded merely as so many faith cures, has been discussed in an admirableessay contributed by Dr. R. J. Ryle to theHibbert Journalof April 1907. He had before him no such systematic attempt to defend this view as that made by Mr. Dearmer, but only the rather loose theorising of certain ‘Modernists’ who, however competent they may be to deal with textual criticism, are hardly in their element when reviewing pathological probabilities. Dr. Ryle quotes Professor Harnack as saying:
‘That the earth in its course stood still, that a she-ass spoke, that a storm was quieted by a word, we do not believe, and we shall never again believe; but that the lame walked, the blind saw, and the deaf heard will not be so summarily dismissed as an illusion.’13
Others write to the same effect. ‘Progressive criticism,’ says Dr. Ryle, ‘has adopted, with much assurance, the opinion that the diseases which were healed were what doctors commonly speak of as functional diseases of the nervous system, and that the production of a strong mental impression was the means by which the miracles of healing were brought about. Upon this point there seems to be a practical unanimity no less decided than that which has been reached among critics of the liberal school upon the other two points.Thus Dr. Abbott tells us that the mighty works were simply “acts of faith-healing on a mighty scale.” The “Encyclopædia Biblica” lays it down that “it is quite permissible for us to regard as historical only those of the class which, even at the present day, physicians are able to effect by psychical methods.” Principal Estlin Carpenter (in the “First Three Gospels”) says, “The real force which worked the patient’s cure dwelt in his own mind: the power of Jesus lay in the potency of his personality to evoke this force.”
‘The writers have adopted what may be called, for brevity, the Neurotic Theory. It is for them to show by an actual examination of the records that the ministry of healing which is admitted “to stand on as firm historical ground as the best accredited parts of the teaching,” consisted in the curing of neurotic patients by strong mental impressions. Have they done so?’
Dr. Ryle has, of course, no difficulty in showing that they have done nothing of the kind.
‘It is not too much to say that no one of the writers who has pinned his faith to the Neurotic Theory has made any attempt to carry it out in detail. We are offered a number of quite commonplace allusions to the power of mindover body, and we find a complacent conviction expressed in several ways by several writers to the effect that a certain class of disorders, which are vaguely alluded to as “nervous,” are promptly curable by emotional methods. But we do not find any recognition of the fact that only a small portion of the diseases to which human flesh is heir are nervous diseases; and that of nervous diseases, again, only a very small and unimportant group admit of cure in this way.
‘What the critics have to do if they wish to convince their readers of the Neurotic Theory of the miracles of healing is nothing less than this:
‘1. They must show that the diseases which Christ is said to have cured were of the kind which experience proves to admit of psychical treatment.
‘2. They must show some good grounds for the assertion that the way in which the cures of the healing ministry were effected was the way by which at the present day such cures are effected, when what has been called moral therapeutics has been the method employed.’
The difficulty is obvious. If our Lord was merely a faith healer, the results of long and laborious investigations into many faith-healing systems, all presenting very much thesame features both in methods of treatment and effects, justify us in assuming that the number of cures would have been strictly limited.
‘But then, quickly enough, would follow the discovery that the powers of healing were available not for all, but only for a small and limited group of disorders; for in any casual collection of sick people, though there might be perhaps here one and here another suitable patient for a faith-healing exhibition, the majority would be unsuitable. What, then, of the failures?
‘The difficulty here referred to has not been wholly overlooked, and it is worth while to notice how the attempt has been made to meet it. “Did a kind of instinct (asks Dr. Abbott) tell Him that the restoration of a lost limb was not like the cure of a paralytic, not one of the works prepared for Him by His Father?” and again, “Experience and some kind of intuition may have enabled Him to distinguish those cases which He could heal from those (a far more numerous class) which He could not.”
‘The suggestion would not commend itself to a medical reader as a very happy way out of the difficulty. The naïve supposition that in cases of disease which require unusuallyminute and scientific investigation diagnosis was made “by a kind of instinct” or “some kind of intuition” is quite on a par with the innocent conception of the nature of diseases of the nervous system which Dr. Abbott shows elsewhere. Dr. Abbott would hesitate to allow that Jesus had a kind of instinct to guide Him safely concerning the Davidic origin of a psalm or the date of the taking of Jerusalem. Why should he imagine that he was less likely to be at fault in the presence of equally difficult problems of another kind? The assumption of an infallible capacity for discrimination, which could arrive at correct conclusions without the use of any of the methods and appliances of scientific medicine, is merely to substitute one kind of “supernaturalism” for another. A miraculous faculty of diagnosis is no easier of acceptance than a miraculous cure. A “kind of instinct” is an absurd supposition.’
Dr. Ryle then examines in detail certain of the healing miracles as related by the Evangelists. The result is to leave the intelligent reader in no doubt that in nine out of ten of the cases of ‘paralysis’ brought to Him, our Lord would have been, on the ‘neurotic’ hypothesis, no more likely to effect a cure than (to take Dr. Abbott’s example) in ‘the restoration ofa lost limb.’ His clear account of the case of the man with the withered hand, which the non-medical reader will be able to follow without difficulty, is worth quoting in full.
‘In the story of the man with the withered hand it is probable that we have to do with another case of paralysis; and if so, we may assume with considerable confidence that the case was one of “infantile paralysis.” This is the affection to which at the present day nearly all the instances of “withered hand” or of “withered leg” are owing. A child who has been in good health, or has suffered perhaps from a few days of feverishness, is found to have lost power in an arm or leg. The limb hangs flaccid and motionless. The muscles are found to be wasting when the limb is examined a week or two later, and the limb to be cold. For a month or two there may be a little recovery of movement. This soon stops, and the arm or leg remains ever after more or less powerless and shrunken and cold. Normal growth is largely checked, and, in addition to the actual atrophy and arrest of development, various contractions and deformities become established as time goes on. After death the muscles are found to have become much diminished and shrunken, and throughout a certain portion of the spinal cord, correspondingwith the affected limb, destructive changes are found to have occurred where the normal structure of ganglion cells and nerve fibres is replaced by the remains of the inflammatory process which has been the cause of the palsy. Such is the ordinary history of a withered hand. Here the very word “withered,” which aptly describes the condition of the limb, is the most appropriate description of the result of the process which has taken place. If such was the pathology of the case described in Mark iii. 1, it is needless to say that, although it belongs to the group of the nervous diseases, it does not belong to that class of nervous disease which admits of treatment by moral impression or emotional shock.’
If this is accepted in the case of what may truly be described as ‘nervous diseases,’ thenà fortiorithe improbability of the view taken by ‘progressive criticism’ is enormously enhanced when we come to consider the healing of the blind, the ‘woman with an issue of blood,’ and others where the nervous system was not primarily, if at all, affected.
The conclusion of the whole matter seems to be this. Medical science has at her command a vast accumulation of clinical material on which she is able to form a clearly reasoned judgment. There is no such thing in Medicineas a ‘chose jugée.’ No single verdict ever found but is open to revision if the evidence is satisfactory. But we do claim that it should be recognised, by all who have the interests of truth at heart, that the limits of ‘psychotherapeutics,’ ‘spiritual’ or otherwise, are, according to our present knowledge, sufficiently well defined, and that nothing has yet been brought forward to warrant anyone in making an exception in favour of any one society or method.
So much may be said on the critical side.
A few words, for many are not needed, may be added as to the positive advantages of a clear understanding between the Church and scientific Medicine, as to the spheres in which both may hope to operate in fulfilment of a genuine desire to cure or alleviate bodily disease.
(1) The clergy have an unrivalled opportunity of taking the lead in educating public opinion on the subject. In no other religious body in the world is the ministry of so high a class, not merely socially (a small matter) but intellectually, morally, and spiritually, as in the Anglican Communion. As a result, I know no body of men better able to come to saneand balanced conclusions on any subjects, the details of which are within their own experience. They touch life at many points. Their calling brings them into contact with vast numbers of people, and they usually show in their dealings with others a broad-minded tolerance and shrewd common-sense which is beyond praise. I do not hesitate to say that, if I were accused of a crime which I knew I had not committed, I should feel safer if the trial were conducted before a jury of Anglican clergymen than before men drawn from any other profession; but in this matter of ‘spiritual’ or ‘psychic’ healing they have not risen to the occasion. An article in theChurch Timesof February 18, 1910, lies before me. A dogmatic gentleman (or lady, perhaps—the style is essentially feminine) writes the most confident nonsense on the subject of the ‘Gift of Healing’ that ever filled two columns. Here is an extract, not by any means the most precious gem from the entire chaplet, but a fair example of the whole:
‘The gift of healing is simply a human gift . . . like the gift of music or any other gift, and also, like music, present in some people more than in others, though probably present in some degree in nearly everybody. . . . The gift transcends all knowledge, it cures diseasesconsidered incurable. Consumption, cancer, blindness, deafness, cripples (sic), &c., this is within our practical experience to-day, so that it stands to reason that the art of curing by medicine will gradually disappear as the gift of healing grows and develops. Not so the scientific knowledge of the doctors, which will be used more and more where it ought to be used, and that isin the prevention of disease.’
Comment would be quite superfluous. But what follows is instructive. In the next issue of theChurch Timesthe irrepressible Mr. Hickson and the ‘Warden of the Guild of Health’ rush into print with some rather vague assertions about the ‘spiritual nature’ of this gift. There is an extremely sensible letter from a doctor, pointing out with great moderation that, if there is any evidence for those confident assertions, he would be glad to know what it amounted to. No clergyman seems to have thought it worth his while to disclaim agreement with the wild statements of the writer of the article.
In the first place, then, I would appeal to the clergy to inform themselves as to the limitation of ‘spiritual healing,’ according to the immense mass of evidence which has been collected and does enable us to lay down those limitations with sufficient accuracy for thepractical purpose of life; and to act as wise advisers to their people in this matter.
(2) The clergy will do well to remember that a great deal of bodilyill-healthmay exist quite independently of bodilydisease. These cases are commoner than cases of organic malady. There is plenty of scope for ameliorative work in connexion with them. At the risk of being thought egotistical, I may be allowed to quote a case which recently came under my own observation, and which is typical of a large number of others.
A young man, who was clearly very far from being of a neurotic or hysterical type, came to me complaining of severe pain in the region of the heart. It had, according to his account, been gradually increasing for some time. It frequently came on after he had run upstairs, and on one occasion had been intense after running to catch a train. It was sometimes accompanied by violent palpitation and breathlessness, and had no relation to food. Would I tell him if his heart was all right? I examined the heart and could find no trace of any abnormal condition. Nor could I find any evidence of anything in the abdomen which would be likely to account for the pain. I told him that his heart was absolutely sound and that there appeared to be nothing tosuggest disease anywhere. A rather careful diet would do him no harm. If it did not do any good, it would be easy enough to prescribe a tonic, but I did not think it necessary. I never expected to see him again. Five months later, however, he called and explained with much gravity that he had come to thank me for ‘curing his heart.’ I then remembered the case, and was fairly staggered. ‘But bless my soul,’ I said rather brusquely, ‘there never was anything the matter with your heart.’ ‘No,’ he replied, this time with a quiet smile, ‘I know there wasn’t. All I can say is that from the time you told me it was all right, the pain disappeared, and I have never had any return of it. But, look here, when it was there,the pain was real.’
I have no doubt it was. To label all such cases as ‘hysterical,’ ‘neurotic,’ and so on (in the ordinary connotation of these terms) is utterly unscientific. This young fellow was a sensible, cheerful, rather unimaginative youth without a trace of ‘neurasthenia’ about him. Yet, by coming to believe that his heart was diseased, he had quite unconsciously so excited the higher centres that the vagus nerve returned exactly the impressions to the brain which would be conveyed by various morbid organic conditions.
Now, in such a case as this (and the number of them must be very large indeed) the parish clergyman has a great scope for quiet, useful work. Let him urge the patient not to dwell on his supposed condition, but go at once to a competent practitioner and find out what exactly (if anything) is the matter. The clergyman will find that (if he has the patient’s consent) the doctor will make no difficulty about affording him the fullest information about the physical condition of the patient, and from their co-operation the happiest results may be expected.
(3) Conversely, there are many cases where a sympathetic doctor would be only too glad to be in touch with a parish clergyman. Occasionally we get at the hospital a note from a clergyman, saying that X. Y. is to call at the Out-Patients’ Department to-day, and that the writer would be glad to know in confidence what is the matter with him. I only wish we had more. If there is no objection raised by the patient, there is no difficulty whatever about entering into the fullest particulars, and in those cases (and they are far from infrequent) where the patient complains of ‘worries,’ a sympathetic adviser on the spot will probably do more to bring about an improvement in the physical condition than allthe compounds of iron, strychnine, &c., in the hospital pharmacopœia. The full consent of the patient is, of course, an indispensable preliminary. When this is obtained, the rest is easy enough.
(4) In the same way, when there is a suspicion or fairly clear evidence that health is being undermined by some evil habit, the sympathetic clergyman, who knows the patient well, can do far more for him than the most skilled doctor who has probably only seen him once or twice. Why any clergyman should want to babble about a special ‘gift of healing’ in dealing with these most distressing cases, considering what the evidence on the subject of a ‘gift of healing’ is, I cannot conceive. The unostentatious, healthy influence of a cultured Christian gentleman has a potency which no manipulation or ritual is in the least likely to enhance. If he will equip himself with the necessary information as to the ‘patient’s’ actual physical condition, he can set to work to exercise his influence, with the knowledge that he will probably effect more, so far as a permanent result goes, than all the self-styled ‘healers’ who ever supported scientific misstatements with bad logic, or clouded with frothy verbiage what intellect they possess.