Curiosities of Medical Experience Part 13

Persecution and its prohibitions have also been most powerful in working upon our imagination. Rare and forbidden fruits will always be considered more desirable than those we can easily obtain. The history of tobacco is a striking instance of this influence of difficulty upon the mind of man.

Pope Urban VIII. prohibited its use in any shape, under the penalty of excommunication. It was afterwards forbidden in Russia, under the pain of having the offender's nose cut off. In some cantons of Switzerland the prohibition was introduced in the decalogue, next to the commandment against adultery. Amurath IV. ordered all persons taken in _flagranti delicto_ smoking tobacco, to be impaled, on the principle that its use checked the progress of population. The denunciation of our James I. may be considered as a masterpiece of the imaginary horrors attributed to this obnoxious weed. "It is," he says, "a custome loathsome to the eye, hatefull to the nose, harmefull to the braine, dangerous to the lungs, and in the black stinking fume thereof neerest resembling the horrible Stygian smoake of the pit that is bottomlesse." During the reign of this monarch such a restriction might have been necessary, unless the consumption of tobacco enriched the exchequer: for it appears that some _amateurs_ consumed no less than 500 per annum in smoke. Surely we should reap some flourishing revenue from fashion and credulity, when we find our government awarding 5000 to a _certain_ Johanna Stephens for her discovery of _certain_ medicines for the cure of _calculi_! The same imaginary hope induced many a credulous creature to minister to the necessities of another Johanna, for _certain_ expectations. Alas! how this indefinite _sense_ exhibits the infinite folly of poor humanity!

A morbid imagination, although frequently the source of much misery, will prove in many cases the fountain-head of many n.o.ble qualities; its exaltation const.i.tutes genius, which is, in fact, a natural disposition of individual organization sometimes bordering upon insanity. "_Non est magnum ingenium sine mixtura dementiae_," says Seneca; and Montaigne observes, "De quoi se fait la plus subtile folie que de la plus subtile sagesse? il n'y a qu'un demi-tour a pa.s.ser de l'une a l'autre." Aristotle a.s.serts that all the great men of his time were melancholy and hypochondriac. The ancient and eastern nations entertained a singular idea regarding men of innate genius, and possessed of more than common attributes; they fancied that they were the first-born, and the offsprings of illicit love: Zoroaster, Confucius, Mahomet, Vishnou, were born of virgins; and Theseus, Hercules, Castor and Pollux, and Romulus, were all illegitimate.

So p.r.o.ne is a lively imagination to a derangement of the intellectual harmony, that the greatest care should be taken during the youthful development to resort to a sound and proper exercise. The constant tendency to wild and supernatural visions, the disregard of every daily and vulgar matter of fact consideration, soaring in regions of fiction, should engage our incessant vigilance, such a state of mind, as Abercrombie justly observes, "tends in a most material manner to prevent the due exercise of those n.o.bler powers which are directed towards the cultivation both of science and of virtue," and Foster has thus beautifully ill.u.s.trated this subject in his essays.

"The influence of this habit of dwelling on the beautiful fallacious forms of imagination, will accompany the mind into the most serious speculations or rather musings, on the real world, and what is to be done in it and expected; as the image which the eye acquires from looking at any dazzling object, still appears before it wherever it turns. The vulgar materials, that const.i.tute the actual economy of the world, will rise up to its sight in fict.i.tious forms, which it cannot disenchant into plain reality, nor will ever suspect to be deceptive. It cannot go about with sober, rational inspection and ascertain the nature and value of all things around it--in that paradise it walks delighted, till some imperious circ.u.mstance of real life call it thence, and gladly escapes thither again when the avocation is past. If a tenth part of the felicities that have been enjoyed, the great actions that have been performed, the beneficial inst.i.tutions that have been established, and the beautiful objects that have been seen in that happy region, could have been imported into this terrestial place!--what a delightful thing the world would have been to awake each morning to see such a world once more!"

Of the miseries the hypochondriacs experience the following extract of a letter to a physician will afford a specimen: "My poor body is a burning furnace, my nerves red-hot coals, my blood is boiling oil; all sleep has fled, and I am suffering martyrdom. I am in agony when I lie on my back; I cannot lie on either side; and I endure excruciating torture when I seek relief by lying on my stomach; and, to add to my misery, I can neither sit, stand, nor walk." The fancies of hypochondriacs are frequently of the most extraordinary nature: one patient imagines that he is in such a state of obesity as to prevent his pa.s.sing through the door of his chamber or his house; another impressed with the idea that he is made of gla.s.s, will not sit down for fear of cracking; a third seems convinced that his head is empty; and an intelligent American, holding a high judicial seat in our West Indian colonies, could not divest himself of the occasional conviction of his being transformed into a turtle.

The most melancholy record of the miseries of hypochondriacism is to be found in the diary of Dr. Walderstein of Gottingen. He was a man much deformed in person, and his mind seemed as distorted as his body. Although of deep learning and research, and convinced of the absurdity of his impressions, yet he was unable to resist their baneful influence. "My misfortune," says the doctor, "is, that I never exist in this world, but rather in possible combinations created by my imagination to my conscience. They occupy a large portion of my time, and my reason has not the power to banish them. My malady, in fact, is the faculty of extracting poison from every circ.u.mstance in life; so much so that I often felt the most wretched being because I had not been able to sneeze three times together. One night when I was in bed I felt a sudden fear of fire, and gradually became as much oppressed by imaginary heat as though my room were in flames. While in this situation, a fire-bell in the neighbourhood sounded, and added to my intense sufferings. I do not blush at what might be called my superst.i.tion any more than I should blush in acknowledging that my senses inform me that the earth does not move. My error forms the _body_ of my judgment, and I thank G.o.d that he has given it a _soul_ capable of correcting it. When I have been perfectly free from pain, as is not unfrequently the case when I am in bed, my sense of this happiness has brought tears of grat.i.tude in my eyes. I once dreamt," adds Walderstein, "that I was condemned to be burnt alive. I was very calm, and reasoned coolly during the execution of my sentence. 'Now,' I said to myself, 'I am burning, but not yet burnt; and by-and-by I shall be reduced to a cinder.'

This was all I thought, and I did nothing but think. When, upon awaking, I reflected upon my dream, I was by no means pleased with it, for I was afraid I should become _all thought and no feeling_." It is strange that this fear of thought, a.s.suming a corporeal form in deep affliction, had occurred to our poet Rowe, when he exclaims in the Fair Penitent, "_Turn not to thought my brain_." "What is very distressing," continues the unfortunate narrator, "is, that when I am ill I can think nothing, feel nothing, without bringing it home to myself. It seems to me that the whole world is a mere machine, expressly formed to make me feel my sufferings in every possible manner." What a fearful avowal from a reflecting and intelligent man! Does it not ill.u.s.trate Rousseau's definition of reason--_the knowledge of our folly_.

Dr. Rush mentions a man who imagined that he had a Caffre in his stomach who had got into it at the Cape of Good Hope, and tormented him ever since. Pinel relates the case of an unfortunate man who believed that he had been guillotined, but his innocence having been made complete after his execution, his judges decided that his head should be restored to him, but the person intrusted with this operation had made a mistake, and put on a wrong head. Dr. Conolly knew a man who really believed that he had been hanged, but had been brought to life by galvanism, but he maintained that this operation had not restored the whole of his vitality.

Jacobi relates the case of a man confined in the lunatic asylum at Wurtzburg, in other respects rational, of quiet, discreet habits, so that he was employed in the domestic business of the house, but who laboured under the impression that there was a person concealed in his stomach, with whom he held frequent conversations. He often perceived the absurdity of this idea, and grieved in acknowledging and reflecting that he was under the influence of so groundless a persuasion, but he never could get rid of it. "It was very curious to observe," adds our intelligent author, "how, when he had but an instant before cried what nonsense!--is it not intolerable to be thus deluded? and while the tears which accompanied these exclamations were yet in his eyes, he again began to talk, apparently with entire conviction about the person in his belly who told him that he was to marry a great princess. An attempt was made to cure him, by putting a large blister on his abdomen, and the instant that it was dressed, moving from behind him a dressed-up figure, as if just extracted from his body. The experiment so far succeeded that the patient believed in the performance, and his joy was at first boundless in the full persuasion that he was cured; but some morbid feeling about the bowels, which he had a.s.sociated with the insane impression, still continuing, or being again experienced, he took up the idea that another person similar to the first was still left within him, and under that persuasion he still continues to labour."

A n.o.bleman of the court of Louis XIV., fancied himself a dog, and would invariably put his head out of window to bark aloud. Don Calmet relates the case of some nuns in a convent in Germany, who imagined that they were transformed into cats, and wandered about the building loudly mewing and spitting at and scratching each other.

One of the strangest aberrations of a disordered state of mind was exhibited by some impudent fellows who fancied themselves virtuous and modest females. Esquirol relates the case of a young man of 26 years of age, handsome and of a good figure, who had been in the habit of occasionally putting on woman's attire to perform female parts in private theatricals, and who had actually fancied himself a woman. In his paryoxysms he would put off his male clothes, and equip himself like a nymph,--the greater part of his day was spent before his looking-gla.s.s, decorating his person and dressing his hair--he was incurable!

ANCIENT IDEAS OF PHRENOLOGY.

Although Gall and Spurzheim may fairly claim the merit of having developed in this science the particular parts of the brain that are the seat of different faculties, yet we find in various ancient writers similar notions. Burton, in his Anatomy of Melancholy, thus expresses himself on this subject: "_Inner senses_ are three in number, so called because they are in the brain-pan; as _common sense_, _phantasie_, _memory_. This common sense is the judge or moderator of the rest, by whom we discern all differences of objects; _the fore part of the brain_ is his organ or seat.

_Phantasie_, or imagination, which some call aestimative, or cogitative, (confirmed saith, Fernelius, by frequent meditation,) is an inner sense, which doth more fully examine the species perceived by _common sense_, of things present or absent, and keeps them longer, recalling them to mind again, or making new of his own: his organ is the _middle cell of the brain_. _Memory_ layes up all the species which the senses have brought in, and records them as a good register, that they may be forthcoming when they are called for by _phantasie_ and _reason_; his organ is the _back part of the brain_." This corresponds with the account of the faculties given by Aristotle, and repeated by the writers of the middle ages.

Albertus Magnus, Bishop of Ratisbon, designed a head divided into regions according to these opinions in the thirteenth century; and a similar plan was published by Petrus Montaguana in 1491. Ludovico Dolce published another engraving on the subject at Venice in 1562. In the British Museum is a chart of the universe and the elements of all sciences, and in which a large head of this description is delineated. It was published at Rome in 1632. In the _Tesoretto_ of Brunetto Latini, the preceptor of Dante, we find this doctrine taught in the following lines:

Nel capo son tre celle, Ed io dir di quelle, _Davanti_ e lo intelletto E la forza d'apprendere Quello que puote intendere; _In mezzo_ e la ragione E la discrezione, Che scherne buono e male; E lo terno e l'iguale _Dirietro_ sta con gloria La valente memoria, Che ricorda e retiene Quello ch'in essa viene.

PERFUMES.

At all periods perfumes seem to have been more or less adopted as a luxury among the wealthy and fashionable. Tradition states that they were frequently rendered instrumental to sinister purposes, as the vehicle of poisonous substances. Historians relate that the Emperor Henri VI. and a prince of Savoy, were destroyed with perfumed gloves. Jeanne d'Albret, Queen of Navarre, and mother of Henri IV., died from the poisonous effect of gloves purchased from the noted Rene, perfumer and confidential agent of Catherine de Medicis. Lancelot, King of Naples, was destroyed by a scented handkerchief prepared by a Florentine lady. Pope Clement VII. sunk under the baneful effluvia of a torch that was carried before him; and Mathioli relates, that nosegays thus impregnated have been frequently known to prove fatal. It is certain that, without the aid of venenous substances, various flowers have caused serious accidents. Barton tells us that the _magnolia glauca_ occasioned a paroxysm of fever, and increased the severity of an attack of gout. Jacquin had seen the _lobelia longiflora_ producing a sense of suffocation; and the _nerium oleander_ in a close chamber, has caused death. The injurious effects of bulbous flowers in giving rise to violent headachs, giddiness, and even fainting, are generally known. The horror roses inspire to the Roman ladies is scarcely credible; and Cromer affirms that it was to the odour of that ornament of our gardens that the death of one of the daughters of Nicolas I., Count of Salm, and of a Polish bishop, was attributed. The sympathetic effect that this flower can create is ill.u.s.trated by Capellini, who saw a lady fall into a syncope on perceiving a rose in a girl's bosom, although it turned out to be an artificial one. The partiality or antipathy to certain odours is equally unaccountable, for the Italian ladies, who dread the rose, delight in the disgusting aroma of rue, which they carry about as a salubrious plant, that, according to their notions, dispels the _cattiva aria_, although it is not impossible that they might fancy it possessed of those salutary qualities to which Ovid had alluded:

Utilius summas acuentes lumina rutas, Et quidquid veneri corpora nostra negat.

Rue, according to Serenus Samonicus, was one of the ingredients of the fabled antidote of Mithridates, which he thus describes:

Antidotus ver multis Mithridatica fertur Consociata modis, sed magnus Scrinia regis c.u.m raperit victor, vilem deprendit in illis Synthesim, et vulgata satis medicamina risit.

Bis denum _Rutae_ folium, salis et breve granum, Juglandesque duas, totidem c.u.m corpore ficus; Haec oriente die, parco conspersa Lycaeo, Sumebat, metuens dederat quae pocula mater.

The ancients were so fond of perfumes, that they scented their persons and garments, their vases, their domestic vessels, and their military insignia. They not only considered aromatic emanations as acceptable to the G.o.ds, and therefore used them in their temples, as they are at present by the Roman Catholics, but as announcing the presence of their divinities; and Virgil thus speaks of Venus:

--------Avertens rosea cervice refulsit, Ambrosiaeque comae divinum vertice odorem Spiravere.

Chaplets of roses were invariably worn in festivals and ceremonies; and wines were also aromatised with various odoriferous substances. The Franks and the Gauls continued the same custom; and Gregory of Tours called these artificial-flavoured liquors, _Vina odoramentis immixta_. To this day, the manipulation of French wines gives them a fict.i.tious _bouquet_, with raspberries, orris-root, and divers drugs to suit the British market.

No external sense is so intimately connected with the internal senses as that of smell; none so powerful in exciting and removing syncope, or more capable of receiving delicate and delicious impressions: hence Rousseau has denominated this faculty "_the sense of imagination_." No sensations can be remembered in so lively a manner as those which are recalled by peculiar odours, which are frequently known to act in a most energetic measure upon our physical and moral propensities. How many perfumes excite a lively feeling of fond regret when reminding us of the beloved one who was wont to select them, and whom we long to meet again! It is not improbable that our partiality to the hair of those who are dear to us, arises from this circ.u.mstance. Every individual emits a peculiar odour; and, according to Plutarch, Alexander was distinguished by the sweet aroma that he shed. Perhaps the expression, so frequently found in the lives of the saints, "who die in odour of sanct.i.ty," may be referred to a belief that this peculiar gift was granted to beat.i.tude.

It has been observed, that animals who possess the most acute smell, have the nasal organs the most extensively developed. The Ethiopians and the American Indians are remarkable for the acuteness of this sense, accounting for the wonderful power of tracking their enemies. But although we may take the peculiar organization of their olfactory organs as being partly the cause of this keen perceptibility, we must in a great measure attribute this perfection to their mode of living. Hunting and war are their chief pursuits, to which they are trained from their earliest infancy: therefore this perfection may, to a certain extent, be the result of habit; and the sight and hearing of these wanderers are as singularly perfect as their smelling. Mr. Savage relates, that a New Zealander heard the report of a distant gun at sea, or perceived a strange sail, when no other man on board could discern it. Pallas, in speaking of the Calmucks, says that many of them can distinguish by smelling at the hole of a fox whether the animal be there or not; and on their journeys and military expeditions they often smell out a fire or a camp, and thus seek quarters for the night or booty. Olaus Borrich informs us, that the guides between Smyrna, Aleppo, and Babylon, when traversing the desert, ascertain distances by the smell of the sand. That odours float in the atmospheric air is obvious; the distance at which they are perceived is incredible.

The spicy breezes of Ceylon are distinguished long before the island is seen; and it is a well-known fact that vessels have been saved by the olfactory acuteness of dogs, who, to use the common expression, were observed to "sniff" the land that had not been descried. As a proof of the intimate connexion between smell and respiration, when the breath is held odorous substances are not perceived, and it is only after expiration that they are again recognised. A proof of this may be easily obtained by placing the open neck of a small phial containing an essential oil in the mouth during the acts of inspiration and subsequent expiration. Willis was the first who observed that, on placing a sapid substance in the mouth, and at the same time closing the nostrils, the sensation of taste is suspended; and this observation has given rise to the prevailing opinion that smelling and tasting are intimately related. Odour which thus accompanies taste is termed flavour; and the ingenious Dr. Prout has admirably defined the distinction between taste and flavour, and he considers the latter an intermediate sensation between taste and smell.

The acuteness of the sensation of smelling in animals is such, that in many instances our observations have been deemed fabulous. The distance at which a dog tracks his master is scarcely credible; and it is strange that the ancients attributed a similar perfection to the goose. aelian affirms that the philosopher Lycadeus had one of these birds that found him out like a dog:

Humanum longe praesent.i.t odorem Romulidarum acris servator, candidus anser.

Birds of prey will scent the battle-field at prodigious distances, and they are often seen hovering instinctively over the ground where the conflict is to supply their festival. Humboldt relates, that in Peru, at Quito, and in the province of Popayan, when sportsmen wish to obtain that species of vulture called _vultur gryphus_, they kill a cow or a horse, and in a short time these sagacious birds crowd to glut their ravenous appet.i.tes. Ancient historians a.s.sert that vultures have cleft the air one hundred and sixty-six leagues to arrive in time to feast upon a battle; and Pliny boldly affirms that even crows have so acute a sense of approaching corruption, that they can scent death three days before dissolution, and generally pay the _moribond_ a visit a day before his time, not to be disappointed. This notion has become a vulgar prejudice, as much so, indeed, as the howling of a dog, which is considered in most countries as foreboding death. In various animals an offensive odour is a protective gift. The _staphylinus olens_, for instance, sheds an effluvium which effectually keeps away the birds who would otherwise pounce upon him. But of all singular perfections in the sense of smelling that were ever recorded, may be cited the monk of Prague and the blind man in the Quinze-vingt Hospital of Paris, who possessed the faculty of ascertaining the presence of virginity whenever a female had the luck of being introduced to them.

Many curious instances are recorded, where the loss of one sense has added to the acuteness of others. Dr. Moyse the well-known blind philosopher, could distinguish a black dress on his friends by the smell. Professor Upham of the United States, mentions a blind girl who could select her own articles out of a basket of linen brought in by the laundress.

These anomalous senses, for such they may be called, are as wonderful as they are inexplicable, and appear to arise from a peculiar sensibility of the organs of smell, which renders them capable of being stimulated in a peculiar manner, that no language can express or define. It is scent, no doubt, that gives the migratory power to various animals; "which enables them," to use the words of Dr. Mason Good, "to steer from climate to climate, and from coast to coast; and which, if possessed by man, might perhaps render superfluous the use of the magnet, and considerably infringe upon the science of logarithms? Whence comes it that the fieldfare and red-wing, that pa.s.s the summer in Norway, or the wild-duck and merganser, that in like manner summer in the woods and lakes of Lapland, are able to track the pathless void of the atmosphere with the utmost nicety, and arrive on our own coasts uniformly in the beginning of October."[11]

This sense is not limited to migratory animals, as instanced by carrier-pigeons, who have been known not only to carry bags in a straight line from city to city, but traverse the city with an undeviating flight.

Surely this faculty must be attributed to the sense of smell; it can scarcely be referred to sight or hearing; although the wonders of the creation are such, that we can no more account for these peculiar attributes refused to the lords of the creation, than for the power of the lobster, who not only can reproduce his claws when deprived of them by accident, but cast them off to extricate himself, from the captor's grasp.

The _Tipula pectiniformis_, or the daddy long-legs of our infant amus.e.m.e.nt and amazement, possesses the same renovating faculties. The gluttonous gad-fly may be cut to pieces without any apparent interruption in his meal, when fastened to one's hand: the polype does not seem to be at all discomposed when we turn him inside out; and, when divided into various sections, each portion is endowed with an instinctive and reformative power of multiplying his species in countless numbers! The diversity of our olfactory fancies is unaccountable and only ill.u.s.trates the words of Petronius,

Non omnibus unum est quod placet; hic spinas, colligit ille rosas.

LOVE PHILTERS AND POTIONS.

It will scarcely be credited, but to this very day the superst.i.tious belief in the power that certain medicinal substances possess of causing a sympathetic fondness, still obtains, even amongst cla.s.ses of the community whose education one would imagine ought to have rendered such an absurdity revolting. In Italy, Spain, and Portugal, the influence of love powders and aphrodisiac drugs is universally confided in.

The ancients thought that there existed, not only various charms to kindle amorous feelings, but also to check all fond desires. The latter influence they considered as _malefices_, vulgarly called in more modern times, "point tying." Plato, in his Republic, warns husbands to be on their guard lest their domestic peace might be disturbed by these diabolical practices. Lovers, separated from each other's embrace by these nefarious enchantments, were said to be tied down. Thus Virgil,

Dic, Veneris vincula necto: Terna tibi haec primum triplici diversa colore Licia circ.u.mdo.

No power could release one from these bonds:

Quis neget et magicas nervos torpere per artes?

By the laws of the twelve tables such enchantments were punished with death; and Numantina, wife of Plautius Sylva.n.u.s, was accused,

Injecisse carminibus et veneficiis vecordiam marito.

When Faustina, the gay bride of Marc Antonius was rapturously enamoured with an histrionic favourite, she was only cured of her folly by a potion in which some of the comedian's blood had been introduced. Petrarch relates of Charlemagne, that this monarch was so fondly attached to a fair lady, that after her death he carried about her embalmed body in a superb coffin, until a venerable and learned bishop, who very wisely thought that a living beauty was preferable to the remains of a departed one, rebuked his sovereign for his irreligious and unnatural propensities, and revealed to him the important secret of his love arising from a charm that lay under the dead woman's tongue. Whereupon the bishop went to the corpse, and drew from it a ring, which the emperor had scarcely looked upon when he abhorred the former object of his attachment, and felt such an extraordinary fancy for the bishop that he could not dispense with his presence for a single moment, until the good prelate was so obseded with royal favour that he cast the ring into a lake. From that moment Charlemagne (his historian continues) "neglected all public business, and went to live in the middle of a fen in the vicinity of Aix, where he built a temple, near which he was finally buried."

St. Jerome, in the Life of Hilarius, mentions a young man who so bephiltered a maiden that she fell desperately in love with him; and Sigismundus Schereczius, in his chapter _De Hirco Nocturno_, affirms that "unchaste women, by the help of these witches, the devil's kitchen-maids, have their lovers brought to them during the night, and carried back again, by a phantom flying in the air in the likeness of a goat." "I have heard," he adds, "divers confess that they have been so carried on a goat's back to their sweethearts many miles in a night." These wonderful potions were made of strange ingredients, for amongst them we find a man's blood chemically prepared, mandrake roots, dead men's clothes, candles, a certain hair in a wolf's tail, a swallow's heart, dust of a dove's heart, tongues of vipers, brains of a jacka.s.s, pebbles found in an eagle's nest, together with "_palliola quibus infantes obvoluti nasc.u.n.tur_, _funis strangulati hominis_," &c. &c. &c. Cleghorn, in his History of Minorca, tells us that water in which a hedgehog has been allowed to run into corruption, was supposed to be possessed of similar exciting powers; and a pulverized bit of a caul, sc.r.a.pings of nails, and chopped hair, are to this hour deemed equally effectual to obtain these desirable ends.