[2]Lucretius, Book 2, Verse 113,sqq.
[2]Lucretius, Book 2, Verse 113,sqq.
[2]Lucretius, Book 2, Verse 113,sqq.
§ 5.Sleep in the Temple.—One of the generally practised methods of medical science during the period of Hellenic civilization which was still fully under the influence of theism—i.e., for at least two or three centuries before the Hippocratic era—was what was known as “temple sleep.” In fact, this method must be considereda sign of a faith distinctly deep and sincere, a faith naive and childlike indeed; but as a sign of such a faith this method is actually pathetic. No taint of superstition could be found in it at the early period referred to. It was still the pure and unadulterated expression of the generally prevailing conception that human art is to no purpose in any case of disease, and aid must be found with the gods—with those gods who regulate and personally execute all terrestrial phenomena down to the minutest details. Temple sleep was not degraded into superstition until medicine had come to the conclusion that the phenomena of disease were not evidence of an interference by supernatural power in the functions of the body, but disturbances of the function of the body caused exclusively by natural causes. In accordance with this view, which first found its fullest and clearest exposition in thecorpus hippocraticum, it would seem absolutely necessary for temple sleep to lose all recognition from the art of healing. However, this not being the case, it was bound to deteriorate into an act of superstitious mummery, and the principal blame for this sad decadence is to be laid primarily upon the priests. It was their duty especially to lead into the path of truth the patients who persisted in crowding into the temples in the spirit ofnaive and childlike piety. They sealed their own condemnation as fosterers of superstition when they failed to do this duty, and endeavored rather, by every means in their power, to confirm the multitude in their ancient belief that the gods were practising medicine. Non-Christian as well as Christian priests played this rôle for many centuries with equal ability and equal perseverance, as will be seen from the following brief history of temple sleep.
The belief in the efficacy of temple sleep had already been thoroughly shaken during the time of the great Hippocrates; therefore, in the sixth century,B.C., the laughing philosopher of Hellenism, Aristophanes, the satirical contemporary of Hippocrates, in ActII., verses 654 to 750, of his comedyΠλοῦτος, severely criticizes the manner and method in which temple sleep was employed. Let us listen to the words in which the poet describes what happened in the temple during the observance of this rite.
The god Æsculapius, accompanied by his daughter Panakeia, appears in the temple to examine in person the patients gathered there. The first one he meets is a poor wretch, Neokleides, who, being blear-eyed, expects cure from the god. The medically skilled Æsculapius smears upon the inverted lids of this patient asalve which causes such pain that the poor fellow will probably never seek his help again. The second patient met by the god is the blind god,Πλοῦτος(i.e., Wealth Personified). Here the conduct of Æsculapius is entirely different from that which he adopted when treating poor Neokleides. Now he carefully strokes the head of the patient, then produces a linen cloth and carefully touches the lids with it. He then calls his daughter Panakeia, who winds a red cloth round the head of blind Wealth. Now Æsculapius whistles, and two mighty serpents appear, glide under the purple cloth, and lick the eyes of the patient. Shortly afterward the god regains his sight.
This passage is a cutting satire on practises which undoubtedly prevailed in the Greek temples as early as the sixth century,B.C.But, nevertheless, it took a long time before the patients lost their belief in the miraculous efficacy of temple sleep, and the priesthood continually strove to revive, by the mysterious stories of various kinds they recounted to doubters, the belief in temple sleep. The sixth of the marble votive tablets which were found in the temple of Æsculapius at Epidaurus shows the kind of miraculous reports invented by the priests. The latter were in the habit of inscribing upon thesetablets reports of cures that had occurred in their sanctuary, for the benefit of the visitors of the temple and for the still greater benefit of the medical historians; but it is quite probable that the priesthood, intent upon curing, were encouraged in their medico-literary attempts only by the silent hope of creating an abundant supply of patients by such miraculous reports. The above tablet, No. 6—which probably dates from the third century,B.C.—tells us that a blind man by the name of Hermon, a native of Thasos, had recovered his sight by sleeping in the Epidaurean temple of Æsculapius. However, it appears that this man Hermon had been a miserable wretch, for he disappeared without having expressed his thanks in hard cash. Naturally such ingratitude provoked the god, and summarily he blinded the thankless individual again. It required a second temple sleep before the god condescended to become helpful once more. But our tablet does not mention anything about the amount of the remuneration paid by our friend Hermon who had been twice cured of blindness; neither is this at all necessary. The miraculous tablet, even without stating the price, doubtless made sufficient impression upon the minds even of the most parsimonious of future patients.
Altho, therefore, the more enlightened among the Greeks recognized, as early as in the sixth century,B.C., the futility of temple sleep as a means of healing, the ancient world never relinquished it entirely. We encounter it again in the later periods of antiquity. Thus, for instance, Suetonius and other ancient authors tell us that two patients, one blind, the other lame, one day approached the emperor Vespasian, who happened to be in Alexandria, asking him to spit into the eyes of the one and to stroke the paralyzed limbs of the other; for they had been notified in temple sleep that they would be restored to health if only the emperor would deign to perform the above-mentioned manipulations. But Vespasian was an enlightened ruler who, in spite of his imperial dignity, did not have much confidence in the medical qualities of his saliva and of his hands, and accordingly unceremoniously dismissed both supplicants. This caused great terror among the priests of Serapis and among the courtiers, for obviously they had interpreted this affair solely as intendedin majorem Vespasiani gloriam. The emperor was importuned, therefore, kindly to aid the unfortunate, but he persisted in his refusal. Probably he was right in fearing the loss of his prestige should the imperial medical powers prove unequal to thetask of curing disease. Not until the priests solemnly vouched for the truthfulness of the dream-sending god Serapis, and declared a failure of the imperial cure to be impossible, did Vespasian’s stubbornness relent. Now he spat, and rubbed the paralyzed limbs, and the blind saw, and the paralytic arose and walked.
§6.Church Sleep.—When, subsequently, the ancient religions died out, and had left the world as an heritage to Christianity, temple sleep had by no means died out also. On the contrary, after the lapse of three centuries, it again came into favor with the Christian priests. And the use of it now was scarcely less in favor than it had been a thousand years previous in the world of the ancient Greeks. Let us mention a few examples. The first four stories are taken from the works of Gregory of Tours.
Mummolus, who came to the court of Justinian (527 to 565) as the ambassador of King Theudebert, suffered greatly from calculi of the urinary bladder, and during this journey he became subject to an attack of renal colic. Things went badly with poor Mummolus, and he was in a great hurry to make his will. Whereupon he was advised to pass one night sleeping inSt.Andrew’s Church, at Pateras, forSt.Andrew had performed many miraculous cures in this place.No sooner said than done. Mummolus, greatly tormented by pain and fever, and despairing of life, had himself placed upon the stone flags of the sanctuary, and waited there for the things that were to happen. Suddenly, toward midnight, the patient awoke with a violent desire to urinate, and discharged in a natural manner a calculus which, asSt.Gregory assures us, was so enormous that it fell with a loud clatter into the vessel. From that hour Mummolus was hale and hearty, and joyfully started on his journey homeward.
In Brioude, the capital of the present department Haute-Loire, there was a woman named Fedamia, who had been paralyzed for years. In addition to this, she was penniless, and her relatives, therefore, brought her to the Church ofSt.Julian, who enjoyed a great reputation in Brioude, in order that, even if she did not become cured, she might at least make some money by begging at the church door. For eighteen years she had lived thus when, one Sunday night, while she slept in the colonnade adjoining the church, a man appeared who took her by the hand and led her toward the grave ofSt.Julian. On arriving there she uttered a fervent prayer, and in a moment felt as if a load of actual chains fell from her limbs. All this, itis true, happened in a dream, but when the patient awoke she was hale and hearty, and was able, to the amazement of the assembled multitude, to walk, with loud prayers, to the grave of the saint.
A certain man, deaf, dumb, and blind, known by the name of Amagildus, also tried the sleep in the Church ofSt.Julian, at Brioude. But it appears that this saint was not always quite accessible to the wishes of the sick. It is true, Amagildus was not obliged, like Fedamia of the previous narrative, to pass eighteen years in the basilica, but, nevertheless, he had to sleep for a full year in the colonnade of the church before the curative power of the holy martyr delivered him from his ailment.
Veranus, the slave of one of the clergy under Gregory, was so violently attacked by gout that he was absolutely unable to move for an entire year. Thereupon his master pledged himself to advance the afflicted slave to the priesthood ifSt.Martin would be willing to cure him. To accomplish this cure the slave was carried to the church, and there placed at the feet of the saint. The poor wretch had to remain there for five long days, and it seemed as thoSt.Martin had forgotten all about him. Finally, on the sixth day, the patient was visited by a man whoseized his foot and drew it out straight. The slave rose to his feet in terror, and perceived that he was cured. For many years he servedSt.Martin as a priest.
But the most wonderful cure was that of the German emperor HenryII., called “The Saint” (1002 to 1024). This emperor, who was of Bavarian stock, suffered greatly from the stone, and had retired to the Italian cloister Monte Cassino, inasmuch as this cloister during that period justly enjoyed an extraordinary medical reputation. But whether the monks of Monte Cassino, altho well versed in medical art, did not have sufficient confidence in their ability to treat an emperor, or whether they were induced by some other reason, is not known; however, instead of submitting the imperial patient to the operations of terrestrial medicine, they surrendered him to the providence of heaven, and more particularly to the sympathy ofSt.Benedict. This saint fully justified the confidence that was placed in him, for, during an acute period in the patient’s sufferings, he appeared in his own holy person, and with his own holy hands he performed the necessary operation, and, after having pressed the stone that he had removed from the bladder into the hand of the sleeping emperor, he retired heavenward. Buthe took care from his heavenly residence to attend to the prompt healing of the operation wound, and this was surely very good ofSt.Benedict. In fact, his entire behavior during this case was extremely proper and laudable; for is it not much more fitting that the imperial bladder should be delivered from its disagreeable visitor, the stone, at the hands of a saint than by those of mortal beings, even if those mortal beings were the pious and medically skilled monks of Monte Cassino?[3]
The form in which we encounter the Christian temple sleep in the above stories is as like as two peas to that practised in the Hellenic temples. They are distinguished merely by the fact that the Greek gods generally hastened to the assistance of the patients after the latter had spent one night in the temple, whereas the Christian saints often allowed years to pass before the patient, who was crying for aid, secured relief.
Christianity has, however, created one variation of the temple sleep, and this is the sleep which is taken, altho outside of the church, at any place whatever, but with invocation of the saints. This sleep was said to be exactly as efficacious as that taken in the church itself, providedthe patient had fervently prayed before falling asleep, and had particularly remembered the saint whose assistance he required. The two following narratives, which are also taken from the works of Gregory of Tours, may serve as significant examples of this variety of temple sleep.
Alpinus, Count of Tours, was so tormented for years by a pain in his foot that life had no further joys for him, so that, sleepless and without appetite, he took to his bed. Again and again had he, in secret prayer, appealed toSt.Martin for relief. So one day the Count suddenly falls into a deep sleep, during whichSt.Martin appears to him, making the sign of the cross over the diseased foot. Thereupon the pain suddenly left him, and Alpinus was able to leave his couch, fully cured. In this case the saint showed himself extremely considerate toward the sick count, in that he was attired in a smart uniform when paying his visit. It was his intention, obviously, in choosing this costume to gratify the martial tastes of the nobleman; forSt.Martin, when visiting patients, by no means always affected this warlike array, as will be seen from the following story.
A certain woman was so severely afflicted with campsis of the fingers that she completely lost the use of her hands. Even a visit to the churchwhich was consecrated toSt.Martin in Tours had brought her no relief. The patient was obliged to leave the sanctuary with her fingers still diseased. But it seems that this patient was actually of a very contented disposition; for when, upon her return, away from Tours, she lay down to her first night’s rest, she thanked God that at least her life was spared, and that she had been permitted to see the grave ofSt.Martin. Affected by so much modesty,St.Martin appeared to her in her sleep, and, like toSt.Benedict in the case of the emperor Henry, with his own holy hands he performed somewhat of an operation upon the patient, in that he stretched her bent fingers in such a manner that the tense tendons were evidently torn; for Gregory tells us that, under the treatment described, blood flowed from the straightened fingers of the woman. ButSt.Martin had entirely discarded his martial attire upon this visit. Evidently such a garb did not seem to him appropriate when visiting a female patient; he therefore appeared before the patient in a purple cloak with a cross in his hand.
However, the medical activity of the saints was by no means restricted to cases of church slumber, but was manifested in the most various forms.
[3]Compare Leibnitz, Script. Brunsvic, Vol.I., page 525. Sprengel, Vol.II., page 91.
[3]Compare Leibnitz, Script. Brunsvic, Vol.I., page 525. Sprengel, Vol.II., page 91.
[3]Compare Leibnitz, Script. Brunsvic, Vol.I., page 525. Sprengel, Vol.II., page 91.
§ 7.Medical Saints.—Some saints had a decidedpredilection for medical specialties, and for that reason paid a particular attention to certain varieties of disease. Thus,St.Anna espoused ophthalmology;St.Jude cured coughs;St.Valentine, epilepsy;St.Catherine of Siena, the plague. Not even our domestic animals were forgotten by the saints. Thus,St.Roch of Montpellier distinguished himself especially by his skill as a veterinarian.
Various were the ways of obtaining the medical aid of this or that saint. The most simple was probably that the patient attended mass in the church of his town, and, at the same time, made an offering to the saints. More difficult was it to undertake a pilgrimage to one or the other of the saints who enjoyed a medical reputation; this was generally done on the birthday of the celestial physician. It seems that the saint was especially inclined on this day to practise medicine; at least, the chroniclers report that great numbers of the most difficult cases were successfully treated on such days.
A very efficacious method of securing medical treatment from saints was considered to be the placing of the patient in the church during the day in the space between the altar and the grave of the saint. The bed of the mortally sick, fever-racked patient was placed there, and for dayswas compelled to remain here wrestling with death. This was done, for instance, with the dying Countess Eborin. In case severe epidemics were prevalent, it is likely that the churches very often resembled actual hospitals. Then dozens of beds with their patients were set up in the churches, and many a one who was in good health when he entered the church to say his prayers probably returned home with the germ of a pestilence acquired in the sanctuary.
But the saints, as we have seen, were by no means always so anxious or in such a hurry to manifest their medical skill. They often made the patient wait for years for their aid. The church, therefore, made practical arrangements to meet every requirement. Larger buildings were erected close to the church intended for the reception of patients. Here those who were hoping to find help could obtain shelter and food, and were, therefore, able to rest quietly, and to await the moment when heavenly aid might appear. This arrangement proved to be extremely practical, especially because a good many individuals felt themselves cured only so long as they remained in the proximity of the saint, but became reafflicted as before when they returned to their homes.
But as the slumber and the protracted sojournin the ecclesiastical hostelries was, nevertheless, rather uncomfortable, especially in consideration of the difficulties and dangers which were involved in traveling during the middle ages, it was absolutely necessary to invent a means of administering the medical aid of the saints in such a way as was always accessible to the patient. This was managed by the use of relics.
§8.Cult of Relics.—It was believed that God had endowed the bodies of martyrs who died for the Christian faith, or of saints distinguished by extraordinary piety, with a miraculous power of extraordinary efficacy, and not only the mortal relics of the martyrs and saints were wonder-working, but actually all objects which had come in contact with the persons of saints during their life as well as after their death. All such objects were possessed of curative power. Let us listen to what Gregory of Tours says under this head: “The miracles which our Lord God deigned to bring about throughSt.Martin, his servant, once a pilgrim in the flesh, he causes to be repeated daily, to strengthen the confidence of the faithful; for now he endows his tomb with precisely the same wonder-working power as was exhibited by the saint himself while still among us. Who will now persist in doubting the former miracles when he observes their continuation inthe present day, when he sees the lame walk, the blind receive their sight, devils cast out, and every variety of disease cured by the help of the saint?” (“Bernoulli,” page 287).
The statement of such a luminary of the Church as Gregory of Tours has undoubtedly gained ecclestiastical credence for the medical efficacy not only of the tomb ofSt.Martin, but of all the relics relating to that saint. It remained only to distribute the superior medical power which was contained in the holy tombs and relics in such a form as would enable all patients, wherever they happened to be, to make use of them. This task, apparently most difficult, was settled very easily. It was discovered that everything which came in contact with a relic actually absorbed a sacred and miraculous power contained in the same, and what had been absorbed was by no means imponderable. Quite the contrary. Something of material substance, and, therefore, physically demonstrable, passed from the relic into the objects surrounding it. It was indeed a celestial fluid, but, nevertheless, of so terrestrial a nature that the priests were able to demonstrate its transference by means of a common pair of scales. Thus it was customary that the silk shreds which were deposited by the pilgrims upon the tomb of the apostle Peter were weighed beforethey were placed there and weighed again after their removal. This weighing always and without exception indicated a considerable increase in their weight. The pilgrim then could travel homeward and be thoroughly consoled, as the scale had demonstrated to him the amount of miraculous power contained in his silk rag. It was really astonishing, under some circumstances, what an enormous amount of curative fluid could flow from such a holy tomb into a single terrestrial object. This was what happened to a king of the Suavians. He had a sick son, for whose cure every remedy had proved unavailing. He at last sent an embassy to Tours to obtain a relic ofSt.Martin, but this relic was destined to be manufactured with the assistance of the embassy. The priests were quite willing to comply with the desire of their royal petitioner, and thus a piece of silk, duly weighed beforehand, was placed upon the tomb ofSt.Martin. After this silk had remained for one night upon the holy sepulchre, and the embassy had knelt beside praying fervently, the silk absorbed so much curative power that the register of the scale was raised to its highest possible notch.
Knowing, then, that any desired object could be saturated with the miraculous power containedin a relic, they used to apply this celestial power through medicaments, and to accomplish this a number of methods were in use. The most popular was to scrape the tombstones on the graves of the saints as thoroughly as possible. The powder thus obtained was then put into water or wine, and thus a medicine was acquired which possessed an astonishing curative power. It was efficacious even in the severest ailments of the body. Let us listen to what Gregory of Tours has reported concerning the medicinal virtues of such tombstone potions.
He says: “Oh, indescribable mixture, incomparable elixir, antidote beyond all praise! Celestial purgative (if I may be permitted to use the expression), which throws into the shade every medical prescription, which surpasses in fragrance every earthly aroma, and is more powerful than all essences; which purges the body like the juice of scammony, clears the lungs like hyssop, and the head like sneezewort; which not only cures the ailing limbs, but also, and this is much more valuable, washes off the stains from the conscience!”
According to this extensive power of the tombstone powder, it is by no means astonishing that Gregory of Tours, when traveling, always carried a box of this miraculous powder with him, sothat he was able at once to heal the patients that surrounded him. I was not able to obtain from the literary sources at my disposal any data as to whether the direct licking off of the tombstones might not have been still more efficacious than the all-healing extract. Gregory does, however, report that he was cured of a tumor of the tongue and lips by merely licking the railing of the tomb ofSt.Martin and kissing the curtain of the temple.
Another very efficacious remedy was the charred wick of the wax candles which had burned in the church. This wick was pulverized, and in this manner a very powerful curative powder was obtained which, when taken, acted in a manner similar to that of the watery or vinous tombstone infusion.
The wax which dripped from candles that were placed near the holy sepulchre was also credited with many medicinal virtues, but it seems that it was employed more as an external than an internal remedy.
The water which had been used before Easter to clean the altar of the saints was also considered to be a famous remedy. If such water was employed in washing a patient he recovered at once, and this was the happy experience of Countess Eborin. This exhalted patient was sufferingso severely that she believed her hour had come. She was then quickly removed to the church ofSt.Martin, and thoroughly washed with the water that had been used in washing the altar. And, behold! the disease disappeared, and let us hope that the overjoyed countess afterward enjoyed many years of life.
Oil from lamps hung in holy places was also a favorite remedy, but it appears that it was principally used for anointing. However, when mixed with holy water, it furnished a remedy which could be administered to diseased cattle with a prospect of positive cure.
Water which was obtained by boiling the covers in which the relics were wrapped also yielded a very efficacious medicine. Thus, for instance, Gregory of Tours caused a silk cover, in which a piece of the cross of Christ had been wrapped, to be thoroughly boiled, and he then administered this decoction to patients; the curtains which were used as ornaments over holy graves also displayed an extremely beneficent effect upon the sick. If an individual suffering from headache touched, for instance, the carpet which was placed over the resting-place ofSt.Julian, the pain ceased. But if a patient was afflicted with abdominal pains, all that was necessary to relieve him at once was to pull a thread fromthis, the above-named carpet, and to apply it to his rebellious digestive apparatus.
However, it was not necessary for the priests, under some circumstances, personally to take the trouble of manufacturing miraculous medicines from relics. There existed some holy graves which were so accommodating that they furnished, of their own accord, the holy material that was required for the treatment of the sick. Thus the chronicler records that the grave of the evangelist John exuded a sort of white manna, which, owing to its wonder-working curative power, was distributed all over the world. A similar product was yielded by the grave of the Apostle Andrew on the festival day of that saint. A precious oil scented like nectar also sprang from the resting-place of this man of God.
We see, therefore, that the sacred pharmacopœia teemed with remedies, and that they were quite extensively employed is shown sufficiently by the history of the saints and, above all, by the works of Gregory of Tours. The latter, in particular, offer an actually inexhaustible mine of information concerning the medical activity of Christian saints.
It does not, however, appear that this medical activity enjoyed the confidence of priests or of laymen to such an extent that the services of aprofessional physician were entirely discarded. It is true, Gregory of Tours expresses himself in reference to the terrestrial physicians in a manner which is by no means complimentary, for he says:
“What are they (the physicians) able to accomplish with their instruments? Their office is rather to cause pain than to alleviate it; if they open the eye and cut into it with pointed lancets, they surely cause the agony of death to come in sight before assisting in the recovery of vision, and if all precautionary measures are not thoroughly carried out the power of sight is lost forever. Our beloved saint, however, has only one instrument of steel, and that is his will, and only one salve, and that is his curative power.”
But in spite of this want of confidence in physicians, Gregory of Tours did not hesitate eventually to interfere quite extensively with the practise of the saints by the employment of ordinary medicine.
At least, he frequently did so when he felt sick himself. Thus, one day, when he was afflicted with severe bellyache, he employed warm poultices and baths, and only when the refractory abdomen gave him no rest, after a continuance of this treatment for six days, did Gregory apply toSt.Martin. When, at another time, Gregorywas affected with so severe an attack that his death was believed to be imminent, he caused himself at first to be treated according to all the rules of medical science, and not until improvement failed to appear, did he think of the aid of the saints. Then he spoke to his physician as follows: “Well, you have exhausted all remedies of your art, you have used up all your powers and juices, but the remedies of this world do not help him who is destined to die. Only one thing remains for me to do. I shall tell you the great remedy: take some stone powder from the grave ofSt.Martin and prepare it for me.”
The healing of the sick by the power of the saints and through relics was in favor throughout the middle ages, and even in the sixteenth century it was so generally in vogue that a physician by the name of Wyer (1515 to 1588) considered it expedient to demonstrate the incredibility of such heavenly interference.
It is by no means my intention to hold solely dogmatic Christendom of the middle ages and the Christian priest responsible for the monstrous superstition into which, according to the above description, Christian religion had degenerated in the domain of medicine. This superstition resulted from the cooperation of quite incongruous factors; but we can by no meansexempt the Christian priest entirely from blame, in that he assisted very materially in furthering it. For we must bear in mind that the Christian cloister of the middle ages was not only the last refuge of humanistic culture, but the science of medicine found an asylum of preeminent importance within its precincts. Medicine had taken refuge in the cloister from the storms and tribulations which followed the political collapse of antiquity and from the excitement of national migrations, and had here attained a high degree of perfection. In fact, we may contend, without exaggeration, that at certain periods of the middle ages the Christian monastery had the importance as a medical school which was later on claimed by the university; for the Christian monks not only nursed the sick and practised medicine, but also took an interest in its scientific development. They were well acquainted with the medical classics of ancient times, such as Hippocrates, Herophilus, Dioscorides, Galen, Paul of Ægina, and others, as well as with the ancient medical celebrities of second and third rank. Briefly, medical knowledge in its entirety was contained in the cloisters of the middle ages; the cloisters, indeed, furnished a considerably larger quota of the medical profession than the laity. In such a state of affairs itmight have been expected that the monks and priests should have applied their extensive medical knowledge to combat the terrible abuses which had invaded medicine in connection with the names and the bones of the saints. But this they never did, neither during the middle ages or later on. Priesthood has never seriously attempted to promote medical enlightenment. On the contrary, plenty of writings exist in which the crassest superstition in medico-physical affairs was defended by the clergy, who quite frequently exhibit the same spirit while practising medicine. Medical relief obtained by entirely terrestrial remedies they speedily placed to the credit of the saints, as was done, for instance, by the monks of Monte Cassino, when (as we have seen above) they persuaded the emperor HenryII.that not the temporal hands of the friar physicians had performed an operation for stone upon him, but thatSt.Benedict in person had, with his own holy hands, extracted the stone from the imperial bladder.
By leading the laity, in numerous cases and against their better knowledge and conscience, to believe that the aid of the saints, and of the relics originating from them, was far superior to medical services, the Christian priests of the middle ages have on their part contributed quitea considerable share to the horrors of medical superstition. It is true, we must not overlook the fact that monks and priests of the middle ages were the product of their time, in the same manner as we of modern times are the product of our period. And as the middle ages formed an era of miracles, of demons, devils, and witches, numerous members of the clergy, as children of their time, surely had an essentially different opinion of the belief in miracles and demons from that which we have. The conception of miracles was entirely different during the middle ages from what it is in modern times; for the sincere and firm belief in the omnipotence of the one God, which with Christianity had taken possession of the world, had firmly fixed in the Christian mind of that period the idea that God was able at any moment to manifest his omnipotence by changing the course of terrestrial phenomena, and actually did manifest it. Thus to a Christian of the middle ages it did not appear miraculous that an alteration in the course of natural law should occur. It was considered quite conceivable that the same natural phenomena should spring from one cause to-day and from a different one to-morrow, according to the pleasure of God; it would have been just as inconceivable to the early Christians, and to their later coreligionistsof the middle ages, that all natural processes are carried into effect according to eternally unalterable laws, beyond the interference of divinity, as it is incomprehensible to us to conceive that God would at any time change a law of nature in favor of one or the other mortal being. The conception of miracle during the first sixteen centuries of the Christian era was entirely different from that of the subsequent era. We must not, therefore, gauge the ideas of priests and laymen of those centuries who believed in medical miracles by the same standard as that by which we judge those who to-day still persist in admitting the existence of medico-physical wonder or miracle. It is highly probable that, under conditions as described above, many Christian monks and priests vacillated between the requirements of faith and the results of their own medical knowledge. The medieval scholar’s feeling drew him to one side, his intelligence to the other, and thus he became destitute of a firm hold—the intellectual sport of his period and of his environment. That prominent lights of the Church could become subject to such vacillations we learn from Gregory of Tours, who attempted to cure bodily ailments at one time with the medicaments of professional medicine, at other times with the saving means of the celestial drug-store;who at one time deprecated the art of temporal physicians in favor of medically skilled saints, at other times fled to human medicine for refuge.
Finally the position of the medically learned monk and priest with reference to the general public, during the middle ages, was by no means an easy or an agreeable one. The people clung with invincible tenacity to the belief in demons and miracles. Ancient as well as Christian philosophy was firmly pledged to a belief in demons, whose existence was supported by the sacred testimony of the Gospel. It is not astonishing, therefore, that the people should cling to their belief in various forms of supernatural interference with the functions of organic beings, and thus it may frequently have happened that a medically enlightened priest, fearing the opposition of a people eager after celestial medicine, sacrificed his scientific convictions to the caprices of a mistaken faith. Unfortunately, only a few had in them the making of a scientific martyr, and the history of Christianity teaches us that it is much easier to be a martyr of faith than a martyr of science.
But what has been stated thus far will by no means acquit the Christian priest of blame which he incurred by favoring medical superstition;such acquittal would be radically futile. But we mean to show that the conduct of the servants of our faith, altho not pardonable, is quite explicable. The historian, in order to present to his readers the relation which had gradually formed between Christianity and medical superstition, must show himself prosecutor and defendant at the same time.
Equally with dogma and priesthood, theistic belief also has been a powerful instrument in the furthering of medical superstition, and this point we shall next consider.
§9.Theistic Thought as the Fosterer of Medical Superstition.—Altho the theist, by accepting a physico-mechanical interpretation of natural phenomena, abandoned his main position, yet the theistic belief by no means became obsolete—i.e., the belief that God, unrestricted by natural laws, personally directed terrestrial manifestations still held its ground. This belief remained dominant in many minds, in spite of all that philosophers and naturalists said in regard to the forms and life of organic structures. The vitality which this belief has shown during the development of our race is actually astonishing. In spite of the wide acceptance of the physico-mechanical theory of life, the belief that God, without regard to natural laws, unceasinglyinterfered with the course of natural events, and, consequently, also with the conditions of the human body, has not only remained active, but has even succeeded in recovering an extensive part of its lost ground. We shall soon see that this is a repetition of what has occurred during all periods of human development. Even to-day, when the mechanical theory of life has won its greatest triumphs, and more than twenty centuries have passed since the great Hippocrates preached a theory of medicine, purified from all theistic and theurgic accretions, individuals are still met with who presuppose the therapeutic activity of God in all cases of disease as a self-evident fact. Such a condition of opinion, history teaches us, always prevails at periods, during which a craving for religious excitement becomes excessively acute. It is either a new form of religion which so preoccupies the public mind and the intelligence that all phenomena are conceived of as in closest relationship with God, or else some individual appears who, carried away by religious enthusiasm, teaches that the existence of nature independent of God is not admissible, and succeeds in enlisting numerous followers under his banner. Under similar conditions theistic belief had occasionally succeeded in regaining its supremacyin the domain of medicine. In taking up the consideration of some such instances we can only treat them briefly, as an exhaustive handling of this most interesting material would carry us too far away from our present subject.
The belief that God was the best physician, not only of the soul but of the body also, was deepened by the dissemination of Christianity. The sincerity of faith among the Christians of the first century was so intense that a great number of them believed that their bodily welfare could not be watched over more carefully than when it was commended exclusively to the care of God in all cases of sickness. Accordingly, they entirely neglected medical aid and treated all diseases only by prayers, by anointing, and by laying on of hands. This mode of treatment corresponds to what is contained in the epistle of Jamesv: 14-16—
“Is any sick among you? let him call for the elders of the church; and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord:
“And the prayer of faith shall save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up; and if he have committed sins, they shall be forgiven him.
“Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. Theeffectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.”
The extent of this treatment by prayer is shown by the fact that even prominent fathers of the Church—for instance,St.Benedict (died 543)—were addicted to it.
Moreover, an attempt was made to increase the therapeutic value of prayer by various accessories and aids. Thus the Gospel was placed upon the affected part of the body, or clothing of a particularly pious man was spread over the patient. It appears that the sudarium and the coat of the apostle Paul were held to possess such healing power, and were, therefore, frequently employed as instruments of healing. Thus we read in the Act of the Apostlesxix: 12—“So that from his body were brought unto the sick handkerchiefs or aprons, and the diseases departed from them, and the evil spirits went out of them.”
In fact, medical superstition went so far that it divined a potent curative virtue even in the shadow of the apostle Peter. Thus, Actsv: 15—“Insomuch that they brought forth the sick into the streets, and laid them on beds and couches, that at least the shadow of Peter passing by might overshadow some of them.”
Probably we shall not be wrong in regardingthis procedure as the origin of that relic cult which was destined to attain such astonishing dimensions in medical practise.
The mode of treatment by means of prayer was, perhaps, intimately connected with the idea that bodily ailments were divinely ordained to make the wrath of God distinctly perceptible by man. This conception of pathological processes was a very ancient one. We meet with it among the Egyptians, and we read in the book of Exodus that God visited upon Pharaoh and his people various bodily afflictions, such as pestilence, black smallpox, death, as in the case of the first-born. Afterward Christianity adopted this view of sickness as providential, and the belief assumed very peculiar forms and dimensions in the middle ages. In those times any disease occurring epidemically was actually considered to be an act of retribution on the part of the divine being, a scourge with which God punished sinful Christians. Thus, for instance, syphilis, which originated in Naples in 1495, during the struggle between the reigning house of Aragon and the French, was instantly declared to be the chastisement of God. The emperor Maximilian declares, in an edict issued August 7, 1495, at Worms: “Quod novus ille et gravissimus hominum morbus nostris diebus exortus, quem vulgo malum Francicumvocant, post hominum memoriam inauditus sæpe grassetur, quæ nos justissimæ Dei iræ merita debent admonere” (GregoroviusVII., 386, foot-note 1).
But it is very astonishing to observe the causes which aroused the wrath of God so mightily that countless numbers of men were swept away. Thus, for instance, the pious Bishop of Zeeland, Peter Paladius, assures us that miliary fever, that terrible disease which devastated Europe five times from 1486 to 1551, was sent by God, who was angry at the excessive passion for finery which prevailed at that time. Medical science, as founded on theism, assumed menacing forms, where, in the middle ages, it associated itself with magic, but as we shall more exhaustively enlarge upon this point in ChapterIV.we need merely refer here to that part of our work.
It is indeed surprising that the above-mentioned manifestations all occurred in periods in which medicine had already acknowledged the physico-mechanical interpretation of all organic processes; but the strangeness of this fact is enhanced by the consideration that, even in recent times, and even at the present moment, there have been, and are, individuals who not only preach the doctrine that medicine is bound to be subordinate to Christian faith, but also find adherents to their dogmas, and find them in surprisingnumbers. Recently we have learned from two exceedingly instructive examples to what extremes the sentiment of fanatical religion may lead men so soon as they shake off the steadying influence of physico-mechanical ideas in their theory of life. Then Theocracy strives for an exclusive ascendancy in the domain of medicine, as is distinctly shown by the position taken by Mrs. Eddy, with her “Christian Science,” and Rev. John Alexander Dowie, with his “Christian Catholic Church of Zion.”
If we first of all examine the system of Mrs. Eddy, we find it an absurd farrago of undigested philosophical odds and ends, illogical medical aphorisms, and shallow investigation, which reaches its pitch of folly in the belief that disease has no real foundation in the material tissues of the body, but should be explained as arising exclusively from certain conditions of the mind. In accordance with this conception, which has been borrowed from a natural philosophy long since relegated to oblivion, the services both of physician and physic are to be rejected, and the treatment of the sick is to be carried on in such a manner that the patient, under supervision of an individual expert in such affairs, is merely to fix his mind on the spiritual, or divine, principle inherent in himself.
We are by no means astonished that a person to whom the laws of thought are entirely unfamiliar, and who is not very much burdened with knowledge of any other kind, should advance such confused and preposterous theories as those of Mrs. Eddy. History teaches us that human beings have arisen at all periods, in all ranks of life, and in cold blood have given currency to the wildest of theories. But the most interesting point is that at this day when, as we might believe, the advances in physical science have enlightened to some extent even the most unintellectual, Mrs. Eddy is able to find adherents, especially among the best classes of society, and to find them in such numbers that the authorities have been compelled to interfere in repressing the practises of this medical superstition. I purposely say interesting, and not “astonishing” or “wonderful,” because the historian, whatever domain he undertakes to investigate, will always discover that stupidity has at all times been a power superior to all the influences of culture and learning. Mrs. Eddy, with her Christian Science, proves to us that even in this era of scientific enlightenment, this truth remains incontrovertible.
Rev. John Alexander Dowie, with his Christian Catholic Church of Zion, must be judgedfrom an entirely different view-point than Mrs. Eddy. It is true, this latter-day saint arrives at exactly the same end as Mrs. Eddy—namely, at the absolute rejection of professional treatment, medical as well as surgical. But he arrives at this theory, which so closely concerns both his own health and that of his adherents, by an entirely different way from that taken by the Eddy woman. An unquestioning belief, which in its naïveté is almost touching, leads him to hold that all utterances of the Old as well as of the New Testament are direct revelations of God. The further consequence of this constancy of faith is the desire to believe and to follow everything that is contained in the Bible, to the widest extent and with the closest adherence to the wording of the book. And as the book of Exodus,xv: 26, states, “I am the Lord that healeth thee,” and in the Epistle to James,v: 14-16, prayer is recommended as the best remedy in diseases, Dowie concludes that prayer must be resorted to as the sole means of treating and curing all forms of disease. Prayer is declared by him to be much more efficacious, in surgical cases, than the skill of the most experienced operator.
Dowie, therefore, occupies exactly the same standpoint as the Christians of the first centuriesafter Christ, who also believed that prayer would render the best assistance in all ailments of the body. Twenty centuries, therefore, with all their immense advance in the training of thought and in the recognition of nature, have not been able to rid humanity of the conception that the omnipotence of God, among many other manifestations, is to busy itself in the daily regulation of the human body with all its numerous functions. Wherever this conception obtains a firm foothold superstition, with its acts of miraculous healing, never fails to follow. Accordingly, all historic periods of our cultural development, in which the theocratic belief has been on the ascendant, are characterized by an excessive development of medical superstition.
THE INFLUENCE OF PHILOSOPHY UPON THE FORM AND ORIGIN OF MEDICAL SUPERSTITION
Theidea that philosophy has exerted any material influence upon superstition in medicine may appear strange to many. For how can it be possible that the science which teaches the laws of thought, which regulates our entire mental activity and guides it in the right direction, which points out to us the intricate path of medical theory and diagnosis—how is it possible that just this science should either take or have taken part in misleading or obscuring our medical perception? We do not by any means intend to impute any such effect to philosophy. Quite the contrary! We are thoroughly aware of the great influence which philosophy is entitled to claim in all sciences without exception, and for this reason we believe that modern representatives of medical science would be much better off if they were a little less at variance with philosophy than they actually are.
In the wide realm of philosophy there are onlycertain points where we can detect a tendency to promote the development of medical superstition. This tendency appears in all endeavors which are made to explain natural phenomena solely in a speculative manner, or to build a theory of life upon a base of pure assumptions. Whenever such attempts were made manifest, and impressed philosophy into their service under the name of natural philosophy, it resulted in the wide predominance of medical superstition.
It is well known that all prae-Socratic philosophy aimed at the discovery of a single principle as underlying and explaining all the phenomena of nature. But in spite of this very apparent tendency, it can scarcely be accused of promoting medical superstition; for prae-Socratic philosophy busied itself in speculations concerning terrestrial phenomena. Earth and air, fire and water, cold and heat, coming into being and passing away, are the things in which it endeavored to find the elemental basis of nature with its multiform phenomena. But upon the study of medicine these endeavors exercised, for the time being, a liberalizing influence. They emancipated it from the repressive grasp of theism, and opened up the way for an exclusively natural explanation of all processes of the body, in health as well as in sickness. Unfortunatelythe apparatus, or organon, which philosophy furnished to science in its terrestrial phenomena was a very questionable one, investigation of the conclusion from analogy and the deductive method being of extremely little value, either in medical diagnosis or the pursuit of natural science. For this reason medicine was bound to be encumbered with countless badly founded hypotheses. But other monstrous guesses at truth could not fail to become current. Let us consider, for instance, the absurd theory which Heraclitus of Ephesus (500B.C.) has propounded as to the relations between wine and the human soul. As the soul, according to this philosopher, naturally was a fiery vapor, and the drier and the more fiery it remained the better, the excessive use of alcohol would not be advisable, in that the abundant infusion of fluids causes the soul to become wet, which would be harmful to its fiery nature, as fire and moisture are always incompatible. Who will venture to deny that it was from his opinion regarding the use of wine that Heraclitus acquired his sobriquet of “Whining Philosopher”?
But curious as were all the hypotheses with which Hellenic natural philosophy foisted upon medicine, they should by no means be confounded with superstition, for even a baseless hypothesisis far removed from superstition. Otherwise, medicine and superstition would be almost identical conceptions, for baseless hypotheses have at no time been wanting in our science. Superstition, so far as its sources are found in philosophy, did not enter medical science until philosophy sought for an explanation of the various processes of life not only in material but also in immaterial forces. And as Indian as well as Persian philosophy, in the earliest period of its existence known to us, had already found in demons the immaterial elements which to a great extent control the processes of life in man, it will be seen that the relations between philosophy and medical superstition are quite old. The Hellenic poets and philosophers, Homer, Hesiod, Empedocles, Democritus, and Plato, elaborated this immemorial doctrine of demons and introduced it into Greece. But the recognition of immaterial, supernatural curative factors did not attain any considerable and determining influence in ancient medicine until the year 150B.C., when, under the eager advocacy of Alexandrian Jews, Oriental and Occidental doctrines became amalgamated to a coherent system of theosophic and medical mysticism. Medicine suffered greatly for centuries from this mysticism, which prevailed late in the middle ages and evenup to more recent times. The center of all the various forms under which speculations in the philosophical and theosophical domain made their appearance was Alexandria, the great central point of culture in which the civilization of the Orient and the Occident were united in the evolution of a new theory of life. But that the birthplace of developments so momentous for the future of medicine should be Alexandria almost suggests the thought that the writers of history were indulging in a satire upon medical science; for it is well known that Alexandria was the very place where medical enlightenment and the progress of ancient medicine won their greatest triumphs under the renowned anatomists, Herophilus and Erasistratus.
Such speculations in theosophical and medical domains at first were most eagerly entered upon by the Jewish sects of the Essenians, or Essenes, and Therapeutæ. According to the description which Josephus (Book 2, ChapterII., page 13) has left us of these two sects, they were theosophical communists. We, as physicians, however, are principally interested in the position they took with regard to our profession, and that was one of indifference. They believed that they should not obtain their knowledge of the body, either in health or in disease, by observation,on which physicians relied. They believed they could actually learn the art of healing from a study of their old Sacred Scriptures. For that reason they especially applied themselves to make a diligent examination of these Holy Scriptures. They believed that they were able, by various allegorical interpretations of different letters and words, as well as by subtle explanations of this or that sentence, to acquire the knowledge necessary for the treatment of their patients. Those, however, who had become imbued with this wisdom of dotage in an especial degree, claimed the possession of numerous miraculous powers—for instance, that of prediction. But as they also believed in the existence of beings who, while they were lower than God, at the same time were higher than man, they had, ready at hand, the rarest resources to draw upon for the practise of their juggling feats of miraculous medicine. The belief in these mystical doctrines took the most extravagant forms. Thus, for instance, it was believed that a man by the evacuation of feces offered an insult to divinity (τὰς αὐγὰς ὑβρίζειν τοῦ θεοῦ, says Josephus, lib. 2, ChapterVIII., No. 9, § 15). For that reason nobody might dare, on the Sabbath, to comply with such demands of nature. But whether the call of nature always yielded tothese rather far-reaching requirements of the law, or how the believer helped himself when the extremely disagreeable dissension between nature and faith caused too much uneasiness, is not reported either by Josephus or by Porphyrius. Besides, the Essenians had their troubles even on week-days in attending to final phases of the digestive process, in that it was incumbent upon them to conceal the termination of the act of digestion from the view of the Supreme Being by covering themselves with a cloak.
Subsequently, during the first century of the Christian era, appeared Neo-Pythagorism, an attempt to combine monotheism with the ancient fantastic cult of subordinate gods and demons. Then followed a period of momentous importance for medicine; for the attempt to displace the physico-mechanical conception of corporeal phenomena by various ideas of theosophic caprice, and to bring therapeutics once more under the domination of the metaphysic methods, prevalent in the days when the theistic theory of life held undisputed sway in medicine and natural sciences, became more and more apparent. The Neo-Pythagoreans acted upon the principle that the practise of medicine was absolutely indispensable to the true philosopher, and thatevery one, therefore, provided he had attained the required fitness by his intercourse with demons, was able to act as a physician. It is quite obvious that such ideas were bound to pave the way for the most abominable abuse and superstitions, and, naturally, what the Neo-Pythagoreans offered as the art of healing to the patients was nothing but a mixture of mysterious customs, conjurations, and witchcraft. On the other hand, the followers of this school of philosophy did much to promote the bodily welfare of their fellow men, in that they urged them to lead a pure and temperate life, while they themselves appear to have adhered strictly to this régime.
The chief representative of Neo-Pythagorism was Apollonius, of Tyana, in Cappodocia, probably one of the most fantastic personages of all Greek and Roman antiquity. Venerated as a god by some of his contemporaries, such as Damis and Philostratus, his biographers, on account of his wisdom and of his extraordinary works, he is considered by others, on the other hand, as a magician engaged, like a common charlatan, in conjuring tricks. The opinions which posterity, down to modern times, has passed on Apollonius are of a similar nature. There are some who consider the Tyanian to bea crafty magician, whereas others declare that he is an important personality in the history of religion. Among these latter is Baur, who attempts to explain the life and the deeds of the wonder-working Neo-Pythagorean by citing as a parallel the impression created by Christianity upon some enlightened minds.
Personally, I consider this high estimate of a trickster to be perfectly absurd. Apollonius, as we meet him in the celebrated description of Philostratus, is a purely poetical idealization, prompted by a desire to delay the downfall of ancient religion, pointing to the reform which has been instituted in its moral tendencies (Gregorovius, page 413).
Apollonius flourished in the first Christian century, during the reigns of Nero and of the succeeding emperors up to Nerva, who appears to have been in very close relations with him. The accounts of Philostratus regarding the adventures of our hero, based as they are upon the early authorities accessible to him, absolutely create the impression that heathen antiquity meant in Apollonius to set a counterpart of Christ. According to ancient reports, a supernatural apparition visited his mother, apprizing her that she would bear a god, and after his death Apollonius appeared to his disciples toannounce to them the immortality of the soul. The time between the birth and death of the Tyanian was spent by him in restless wanderings over the then known world. Wherever he went he conversed on the deepest subjects with priests and cultured laymen, and upon request he also performed miracles of various kinds. Naturally, we are only interested in the medical performances of the wandering philosopher, and of these he is credited with a considerable number. He cured the lame simply by stroking the affected limbs; with equal facility he gave sight to the blind—in fact, he even attended to obstetrical cases without fear and trepidation. For instance, when the husband of a woman who had borne seven children, but always with the greatest difficulty, came to Apollonius, sadly telling him that his wife was again in labor and nobody was able to help her, the man of miracles told him to be of good cheer. Without even examining the woman for a possible narrow pelvis, or for some other obstacle to birth, he simply advised the husband to procure, as soon as possible, a living hare, and, with this hare in his arms, to walk round and round the woman in labor, and then allow the hare to run away. This one sample of his medical activity is sufficient to characterize Apollonius as a charlatan of the most contemptible class.When we learn, further, that he raised the dead without any difficulty, nobody will probably accuse us of an unjust opinion if we pronounce this philosopher, who was revered as a god by the heathen, a magician of the worst kind.
In order duly to enhance his authority Apollonius arrogated to himself certain mysterious powers. Thus, he pretended that he was able to speak all languages without having ever learned them; in fact, this philological talent even extended to the languages of the animals, which he undertook to master. We are scarcely surprised to learn, when we consider the powers bestowed upon him, that he knew the future, and was thoroughly aware of what happened at the same time at the most distant parts of the world. He also endeavored to bear witness to his vocation as a man of God by his manner of living and of dressing. Thus he was always attired in white linen garments, and walked about with long, flowing hair, followed by his disciples. He never ate meat, never partook of wine, and disdained love. It would seem, however, that in the last particular he was not quite consistent—at least, various erotic adventures are related of him.
The manner in which Apollonius cast out a demon in India is extremely amusing. A womancame, lamenting and crying, to the medical miracle worker, and asked him to deliver her sixteen-year-old son from an evil spirit. Apollonius at once gave her a letter directed to the evil spirit which contained, as Philostratus emphasizes particularly, the most terrible threats against the good-for-nothing tormentor. But the biographer does not tell us whether the reading of this letter caused the demon to desist from his improper behavior.
But as even in a man of miracles the hour-glass of life finally is emptied, so also a time came when Apollonius realized that he must pay his last debt to nature. But the Tyanian knew how to surround even the act of dying with a halo of the extraordinary. As a matter or fact, he did not die; but one day—if it is permissible to employ a trivial expression in speaking of a demi-god—he evaporated without anybody knowing what had become of him. This evaporation occurred in the following manner. There was in Crete a temple of Dictynna so securely guarded by vicious dogs that no one dared to approach. This temple was entered by Apollonius, whom the furious dogs left unmolested; but, after the doors of the sanctuary had closed behind the Pythagorean, suddenly there resounded female voices singing from the depth of the temple:“Leave the earth! Go heavenward!” With these sounds and words Apollonius disappeared forever. Thus his last medical act was a sleight-of-hand performance, in that he even snapped his fingers at death.
The grateful heathen world of antiquity rendered divine honors to Apollonius. In his birth-place, Tyana, a temple was erected in his honor at imperial expense, and the priests everywhere erected statues to a philosopher who had left this world without dying; in fact, even the Emperor Alexander Severus set up an image of Apollonius in hislararium, or domestic chapel. And thus to medical superstition was accorded a triumph which no legitimate practitioner of any age has ever enjoyed.
These theosophic vagaries reached their climax in Neo-Platonism, which was founded toward the end of the second century of the Christian era by the Alexandrian porter, Ammonius (175 to 242), and was further elaborated by Plotinus (204 to 269). This religious, philosophical system is of very particular interest in the history of medicine in that, in the first place, it stands in direct opposition to the physico-mechanical conception of disease, and, explaining sickness from a theistic standpoint as a logical consequence,rejects the treatment of disease by professional physicians.
Now this theistic conception of disease was based primarily upon the assumption that the universe is filled with countless demons, spirits which, altho essentially superior to man, are inferior to God. Such a demon was supposed to be the “spiritus rector” of all terrestrial occurrences, especially all evil events were attributed to him.ὂτι αὐτοὶ αἳτιοι γιγνόμενοι τῶν Περὶ τὴν γῆν καθημάτων, οἷον λοιμῶν, ἀΦοριῶν, σεισμῶν, αὐχμῶν Καἳ τῶν ὁμοίων(Porphyrius de Abst., lib. 2, 40). As the demons played havoc with the condition of the human body, protection against them could not be expected from a professional physician, but only from some one well versed in all their tricks and devices, and, therefore, alone able to punish them thoroughly for their mischievous behavior. This taming of the demon could be accomplished in various ways. Porphyrius enumerates three methods of gaining an influence over the host of demons.
The first and principal method (theosophy) attempted to attain the most intimate union with God. Prayer, abstraction of all thought from things earthly, and absorption in God were supposed to be the means of participation in certaindivine powers. An individual thus favored was enabled in a trice to restore health to incurable patients, such as the blind, the deaf, and the lame, and even the power of raising the dead was conferred upon him. However, the acquisition of such extraordinary powers demanded certain qualifications of a rather exacting and terrestrial character. It was incumbent upon such an applicant for these special gifts to abstain from the use of meat, and, above all, from the society of women. How many were deterred by these fastidious requirements from choosing the career of a famous man of miracles we do not know. Nothing is reported on this subject by the pillars of Neo-Platonism (as, Plotinus, Porphyrius, Damascius, Jamblichus), nor do they state whether they themselves absolutely abstained from meat and from the society of women.
Theurgy was the second method of counteracting the evil influence of demons. In this way good demons were urged by prayer and offerings to ward off disease or other misfortune.
By the third method (goety) attempts were made to dispel the evil demons by conjurations and various kinds of mystical mummery. These mysterious accessories consisted mostly in muttering any number of words as meaningless aspossible. The more meaningless and the more unintelligible were these words the more efficacious—according to the assurance of Jamblichus—they would prove, especially when they were taken from Oriental languages. For, as Jamblichus says, the Oriental languages are the most ancient—therefore, the most agreeable to the gods. In such a manner words utterly nonsensical were drawled out at the bedside, and, for greater security, written on tablets to be hung round the neck of the patient. The magic word “abracadabra” enjoyed especial respect. To render its power certain it was written as many times as it has letters, omitting the last letter each time until only one remained, and placing the words in such a succession as to form an equilateral triangle. A tablet thus inscribed was worn around the neck of the sufferer as an amulet. It may be that this wonder-working word has arisen from the word “abraxas,” with which the gnostic Basilides meant to designate the aggregate of the three hundred and sixty-five forms of revelation of divinity which he assumed to exist. Numerous other explanations are in vogue, however, with regard to this medical, magic term (compare Häser, Vol.I., page 433). Very ancient magic words which had originated in the earliest periods of Hellenismwere revived. Thus, to banish disease, certain words were employed which were said to be derived from the temple of Artemis in Ephesus, and which read:ασχι, Κατάσχι, λίε, τετράε, δαμναμενεύς, αἲσσον.The meaning of these words, according to the explanation of the Pythagorean, Androcydes, was: darkness, light, earth, air, sun, truth. Besides, the attempt was made to obtain directly from the demons such magic words as were endowed with curative power. For such purposes small children were employed, in whom it was supposed that the demons preferred to be present, and expressed themselves through their mouths. Such children, therefore, played a similar part as does a medium with modern spiritualists. The senseless stuff babbled by such a child was considered the immediate manifestation of a demon, and was accordingly utilized to banish the demons which brought on disease. Moreover, the nonsensical practise which was carried on by the Neo-Platonists by letter and word was to a certain extent accepted by professional physicians. It had become a very common custom with physicians to apply various kinds of bombastic names to all their various plasters and ointments, powders, and pills. It is necessary only to cast a glance upon the ancient pharmacopœiato find the most curious names. Galen mentions disapprovingly the fact that Egyptian and Babylonian expressions were preferred in the nomenclature of medicine (De Simpl. Medicamentorum Facult. Lib. Sic. Preface).