Memoirs of Extraordinary Popular Delusions - Chapter 7



      Chapter 7 - The Magnetisers

Some deemed them wondrous wise,
and some believed them mad.
Beattie's Minstrel.

THE WONDERFUL INFLUENCE of imagination in the cure of diseases is
well known. A motion of the hand, or a glance of the eye, will
throw a weak and credulous patient into a fit; and a pill made of
bread, if taken with sufficient faith, will operate a cure better
than all the drugs in the pharmacopœia. The Prince of Orange, at
the siege of Breda, in 1625, cured all his soldiers who were dying
of the scurvy, by a philanthropic piece of quackery, which he
played upon them with the knowledge of the physicians, when all
other means had failed.53* Many hundreds of instances, of a
similar kind, might be related, especially from the history of
witchcraft. The mummeries, strange gesticulations, and barbarous
jargon of witches and sorcerers, which frightened credulous and
nervous women, brought on all those symptoms of hysteria and other
similar diseases, so well understood now, but which were then
supposed to be the work of the Devil, not only by the victims and
the public in general, but by the operators themselves.

In the age when alchymy began to fall into some disrepute, and
learning to lift up its voice against it, a new delusion, based
upon this power of imagination, suddenly arose, and found apostles
among all the alchymists. Numbers of them, forsaking their old
pursuits, made themselves magnetisers. It appeared first in the
shape of mineral, and afterwards of animal, magnetism, under which
latter name it survives to this day, and numbers its dupes by
thousands.

The mineral magnetisers claim the first notice, as the worthy
predecessors of the quacks of the present day. The honour claimed
for Paracelsus, of being the first of the Rosicrucians, has been
disputed; but his claim to be considered the first of the
magnetisers can scarcely be challenged. It has been already
mentioned of him, in the part of this work which treats of
alchymy, that, like nearly all the distinguished adepts, he was a
physician; and pretended, not only to make gold and confer
immortality, but to cure all diseases. He was the first who, with
the latter view, attributed occult and miraculous powers to the
magnet. Animated apparently by a sincere conviction that the
magnet was the philosopher's stone, which, if it could not
transmute metals, could soothe all human suffering and arrest the
progress of decay, he travelled for many years in Persia and
Arabia, in search of the mountain of adamant, so famed in oriental
fables. When he practised as a physician at Basle, he called one
of his nostrums by the name of azoth—a stone or crystal, which, he
said, contained magnetic properties, and cured epilepsy, hysteria,
and spasmodic affections. He soon found imitators. His fame spread
far and near; and thus were sown the first seeds of that error
which has since taken root and flourished so widely. In spite of
the denial of modern practitioners, this must be considered the
origin of magnetism; for we find that, beginning with Paracelsus,
there was a regular succession of mineral magnetisers until Mesmer
appeared, and gave a new feature to the delusion.

Paracelsus boasted of being able to transplant diseases from the
human frame into the earth, by means of the magnet. He said there
were six ways by which this might be effected. One of them will be
quite sufficient, as a specimen. "If a person suffer from disease,
either local or general, let the following remedy be tried. Take a
magnet, impregnated with mummy,54* and mixed with rich earth. In
this earth sow some seeds that have a congruity or homogeneity
with the disease: then let this earth, well sifted and mixed with
mummy, be laid in an earthen vessel; and let the seeds committed
to it be watered daily with a lotion in which the diseased limb or
body has been washed. Thus will the disease be transplanted from
the human body to the seeds which are in the earth. Having done
this, transplant the seeds from the earthen vessel to the ground,
and wait till they begin to sprout into herbs: as they increase,
the disease will diminish; and when they have arrived at their
full growth, it will disappear altogether."

Kircher the Jesuit, whose quarrel with the alchymists was the
means of exposing many of their impostures, was a firm believer in
the efficacy of the magnet. Having been applied to by a patient
afflicted with hernia, he directed the man to swallow a small
magnet reduced to powder, while he applied at the same time to the
external swelling, a poultice made of filings of iron. He expected
that by this means the magnet, when it got to the corresponding
place inside, would draw in the iron, and with it the tumour;
which would thus, he said, be safely and expeditiously reduced.

As this new doctrine of magnetism spread, it was found that wounds
inflicted with any metallic substance could be cured by the
magnet. In process of time, the delusion so increased, that it was
deemed sufficient to magnetise a sword, to cure any hurt which
that sword might have inflicted! This was the origin of the
celebrated "weapon-salve," which excited so much attention about
the middle of the seventeenth century. The following was the
recipe given by Paracelsus for the cure of any wounds inflicted by
a sharp weapon, except such as had penetrated the heart, the
brain, or the arteries. "Take of moss growing on the head of a
thief who has been hanged and left in the air; of real mummy; of
human blood, still warm—of each, one ounce; of human suet, two
ounces; of linseed oil, turpentine, and Armenian bole—of each, two
drachms. Mix all well in a mortar, and keep the salve in an
oblong, narrow urn." With this salve the weapon, after being
dipped in the blood from the wound, was to be carefully anointed,
and then laid by in a cool place. In the mean time, the wound was
to be duly washed with fair clean water, covered with a clean,
soft, linen rag, and opened once a day to cleanse off purulent or
other matter. Of the success of this treatment, says the writer of
the able article on Animal Magnetism, in the twelfth volume of the
Foreign Quarterly Review, there cannot be the least doubt; "for
surgeons at this moment follow exactly the same method, except
anointing the weapon!

The weapon-salve continued to be much spoken of on the Continent,
and many eager claimants appeared for the honour of the invention.
Dr. Fludd, or À Fluctibus, the Rosicrucian, who has been already
mentioned in a previous part of this volume, was very zealous in
introducing it into England. He tried it with great success in
several cases; and no wonder; for, while he kept up the spirits of
his patients by boasting of the great efficacy of the salve, he
never neglected those common, but much more important remedies, of
washing, bandaging, &c. which the experience of all ages had
declared sufficient for the purpose. Fludd moreover declared, that
the magnet was a remedy for all diseases, if properly applied; but
that man having, like the earth, a north and a south pole,
magnetism could only take place when his body was in a boreal
position! In the midst of his popularity, an attack was made upon
him and his favourite remedy, the salve; which, however, did
little or nothing to diminish the belief in its efficacy. One
"Parson Foster" wrote a pamphlet, entitled Hyplocrisma Spongus;
or, a Spunge to wipe away the Weapon-Salve; in which he declared,
that it was as bad as witchcraft to use or recommend such an
unguent; that it was invented by the Devil, who, at the last day,
would seize upon every person who had given it the slightest
encouragement. "In fact," said Parson Foster, "the Devil himself
gave it to Paracelsus; Paracelsus to the emperor; the emperor to
the courtier; the courtier to Baptista Porta; and Baptista Porta
to Dr. Fludd, a doctor of physic, yet living and practising in the
famous city of London, who now stands tooth and nail for it." Dr.
Fludd, thus assailed, took up the pen in defence of his unguent,
in a reply called The Squeezing of Parson Foster's Spunge; wherein
the Spunge-bearer's immodest carriage and behaviour towards his
brethren is detected; the bitter flames of his slanderous reports
are, by the sharp vinegar of truth, corrected and quite
extinguished; and, lastly, the virtuous validity of his spunge in
wiping away the weapon-salve, is crushed out and clean abolished.

Shortly after this dispute a more distinguished believer in the
weapon-salve made his appearance, in the person of Sir Kenelm
Digby, the son of Sir Everard Digby, who was executed for his
participation in the Gunpowder Plot. This gentleman, who, in other
respects, was an accomplished scholar and an able man, was imbued
with all the extravagant notions of the alchymists. He believed in
the philosopher's stone, and wished to engage Descartes to devote
his energies to the discovery of the elixir of life, or some other
means by which the existence of man might be prolonged to an
indefinite period. He gave his wife, the beautiful Venetia
Anastasia Stanley, a dish of capons fed upon vipers, according to
the plan supposed to have been laid down by Arnold of Villeneuve,
in the hope that she might thereby preserve her loveliness for a
century. If such a man once took up the idea of the weapon-salve,
it was to be expected that he would make the most of it. In his
hands, however, it was changed from an unguent into a powder, and
was called the powder of sympathy. He pretended that he had
acquired the knowledge of it from a Carmelite friar, who had
learned it in Persia or Armenia, from an oriental philosopher of
great renown. King James, the Prince of Wales, the Duke of
Buchingham, and many other noble personages, believed in its
efficacy. The following remarkable instance of his mode of cure
was read by Sir Kenelm to a society of learned men at Montpellier.
Mr. James Howell, the well-known author of the Dendrologia, and of
various letters, coming by chance as two of his best friends were
fighting a duel, rushed between them, and endeavoured to part
them. He seized the sword of one of the combatants by the hilt,
while, at the same time, he grasped the other by the blade. Being
transported with fury one against the other, they struggled to rid
themselves of the hindrance caused by their friend; and in so
doing, the one whose sword was held by the blade by Mr. Howell,
drew it away roughly, and nearly cut his hand off, severing the
nerves and muscles, and penetrating to the bone. The other, almost
at the same instant, disengaged his sword, and aimed a blow at the
head of his antagonist, which Mr. Howell observing, raised his
wounded hand with the rapidity of thought to prevent the blow. The
sword fell on the back of his already wounded hand, and cut it
severely. "It seemed," said Sir Kenelm Digby, "as if some unlucky
star raged over them, that they should have both shed the blood of
that dear friend for whose life they would have given their own,
if they had been in their proper mind at the time." Seeing Mr.
Howell's face all besmeared with blood from his wounded hand, they
both threw down their swords and embraced him, and bound up his
hand with a garter, to close the veins, which were cut and bled
profusely. They then conveyed him home, and sent for a surgeon.
King James, who was much attached to Mr. Howell, afterwards sent
his own surgeon to attend him. We must continue the narrative in
the words of Sir Kenelm Digby: "It was my chance," says he, "to be
lodged hard by him; and four or five days after, as I was making
myself ready, he came to my house, and prayed me to view his
wounds. 'For I understand,' said he, 'that you have extraordinary
remedies on such occasions; and my surgeons apprehend some fear,
that it may grow to a gangrene, and so the hand must be cut off.'
In effect, his countenance discovered that he was in much pain,
which, he said, was insupportable in regard of the extreme
inflammation. I told him I would willingly serve him; but if,
haply, he knew the manner how I could cure him, without touching
or seeing him, it might be that he would not expose himself to my
manner of curing; because he would think it, peradventure, either
ineffectual or superstitious. He replied, 'The many wonderful
things which people have related unto me of your way of
medicinement makes me nothing doubt at all of its efficacy; and
all that I have to say unto you is comprehended in the Spanish
proverb, Hagase el milagro y hagalo Mahoma—Let the miracle be
done, though Mahomet do it.'

"I asked him then for any thing that had the blood upon it: so he
presently sent for his garter, wherewith his hand was first bound;
and as I called for a basin of water, as if I would wash my hands,
I took a handful of powder of vitriol, which I had in my study,
and presently dissolved it. As soon as the bloody garter was
brought me, I put it in the basin, observing, in the interim, what
Mr. Howell did, who stood talking with a gentleman in a corner of
my chamber, not regarding at all what I was doing. He started
suddenly, as if he had found some strange alteration in himself. I
asked him what he ailed? 'I know not what ails me; but I find that
I feel no more pain. Methinks that a pleasing kind of freshness,
as it were a wet cold napkin, did spread over my hand, which hath
taken away the inflammation that tormented me before.' I replied,
'Since, then, you feel already so much good of my medicament, I
advise you to cast away all your plasters; only keep the wound
clean, and in a moderate temper, betwixt heat and cold.' This was
presently reported to the Duke of Buckingham, and, a little after,
to the king, who were both very curious to know the circumstances
of the business; which was, that after dinner I took the garter
out of the water, and put it to dry before a great fire. It was
scarce dry before Mr. Howell's servant came running, and saying
that his master felt as much burning as ever he had done, if not
more; for the heat was such as if his hand were betwixt coals of
fire. I answered that, although that had happened at present, yet
he should find ease in a short time; for I knew the reason of this
new accident, and would provide accordingly; for his master should
be free from that inflammation, it might be before he could
possibly return to him. But, in case he found no ease, I wished
him to come presently back again; if not, he might forbear coming.
Thereupon he went, and, at the instant I did put the garter again
into the water; thereupon he found his master without any pain at
all. To be brief, there was no cense of pain afterwards; but
within five or six days, the wounds were sicatrised and entirely
healed."

Such is the marvellous story of Sir Kenelm Digby. Other
practitioners of that age were not behind him in absurdity. It was
not always necessary to use either the powder of sympathy, or the
weapon-salve, to effect a cure. It was sufficient to magnetise the
sword with the hand (the first faint dawn of the animal theory),
to relieve any pain the same weapon had caused. They asserted,
that if they stroked the sword upwards with their fingers, the
wounded person would feel immediate relief; but if they stroked it
downwards, he would feel intolerable pain.55*

Another very singular notion of the power and capabilities of
magnetism was entertained at the same time. It was believed that a
sympathetic alphabet could be made on the flesh, by means of which
persons could correspond with each other, and communicate all
their ideas with the rapidity of volition, although thousands of
miles apart. From the arms of two persons a piece of flesh was
cut, and mutually transplanted, while still warm and bleeding. The
piece so severed grew to the new arm on which it was placed; but
still retained so close a sympathy with its native limb, that its
old possessor was always sensible of any injury done to it. Upon
these transplanted pieces were tatooed the letters of the
alphabet; so that, when a communication was to be made, either of
the persons, though the wide Atlantic rolled between them, had
only to prick his arm with a magnetic needle, and straightway his
friend received intimation that the telegraph was at work.
Whatever letter he pricked on his own arm pained the same letter
on the arm of his correspondent.

Contemporary with Sir Kenelm Digby was the no less famous Mr.
Valentine Greatraks, who, without mentioning magnetism, or laying
claim to any theory, practised upon himself and others a deception
much more akin to the animal magnetism of the present day than the
mineral magnetism it was then so much the fashion to study. He was
the son of an Irish gentleman, of good education and property, in
the county of Cork. He fell, at an early age, into a sort of
melancholy derangement. After some time he had an impulse, or
strange persuasion in his mind, which continued to present itself,
whether he were sleeping or waking, that God had given him the
power of curing the king's evil. He mentioned this persuasion to
his wife, who very candidly told him that he was a fool. He was
not quite sure of this, notwithstanding the high authority from
which it came, and determined to make trial of the power that was
in him. A few days afterwards, he went to one William Maher, of
Saltersbridge, in the parish of Lismore, who was grievously
afflicted with the king's evil in his eyes, cheek, and throat.
Upon this man, who was of abundant faith, he laid his hands,
stroked him, and prayed fervently. He had the satisfaction to see
him heal considerably in the course of a few days; and, finally,
with the aid of other remedies, to be quite cured. This success
encouraged him in the belief that he had a divine mission. Day
after day he had further impulses from on high that he was called
upon to cure the ague also. In the course of time he extended his
powers to the curing of epilepsy, ulcers, aches, and lameness. All
the county of Cork was in a commotion to see this extraordinary
physician, who certainly operated some very great benefit in cases
where the disease was heightened by hypochondria and depression of
spirits. According to his own account,56* such great multitudes
resorted to him from divers places, that he had no time to follow
his own business, or enjoy the company of his family and friends.
He was obliged to set aside three days in the week, from six in
the morning till six at night, during which time only he laid
hands upon all that came. Still the crowds which thronged around
him were so great, that the neighbouring towns were not able to
accommodate them. He thereupon left his house in the country, and
went to Youghal, where the resort of sick people, not only from
all parts of Ireland, but from England, continued so great, that
the magistrates were afraid they would infect the place by their
diseases. Several of these poor credulous people no sooner saw him
than they fell into fits, and he restored them by waving his hand
in their faces, and praying over them. Nay, he affirmed that the
touch of his glove had driven pains away, and, on one occasion,
cast out from a woman several devils, or evil spirits, who
tormented her day and night. "Every one of these devils," says
Greatraks, "was like to choke her when it came up into her
throat." It is evident from this that the woman's complaint was
nothing but hysteria.

The clergy of the diocese of Lismore, who seem to have had much
clearer notions of Greatraks' pretensions than their parishioners,
set their faces against the new prophet and worker of miracles. He
was cited to appear in the Dean's Court, and prohibited from
laying on his hands for the future: but he cared nothing for the
Church. He imagined that he derived his powers direct from heaven,
and continued to throw people into fits, and bring them to their
senses again, as usual, almost exactly after the fashion of modern
magnetisers. His reputation became, at last, so great, that Lord
Conway sent to him from London, begging that he would come over
immediately to cure a grievous headache which his lady had
suffered for several years, and which the principal physicians of
England had been unable to relieve.

Greatraks accepted the invitation, and tried his manipulations and
prayers upon Lady Conway. He failed, however, in affording any
relief. The poor lady's headache was excited by causes too serious
to allow her any help, even from faith and a lively imagination.
He lived for some months in Lord Conway's house, at Ragley, in
Warwickshire, operating cures similar to those he had performed in
Ireland. He afterwards removed to London, and took a house in
Lincoln's-Inn Fields, which soon became the daily resort of all
the nervous and credulous women of the metropolis. A very amusing
account of Greatraks at this time (1665), is given in the second
volume of the Miscellanies of St. Evremond, under the title of the
Irish prophet. It is the most graphic sketch ever made of this
early magnetiser. Whether his pretensions were more or less absurd
than those of some of his successors, who have lately made their
appearance among us, would be hard to say.

"When M. de Comminges," says St. Evremond, "was ambassador from
his most Christian majesty to the king of Great Britain, there
came to London an Irish prophet, who passed himself off as a great
worker of miracles. Some persons of quality having begged M. de
Comminges to invite him to his house, that they might be witnesses
of some of his miracles, the ambassador promised to satisfy them,
as much to gratify his own curiosity as from courtesy to his
friends; and gave notice to Greatraks that he would be glad to see
him.

"A rumour of the prophet's coming soon spread all over the town,
and the hotel of M. de Comminges was crowded by sick persons, who
came full of confidence in their speedy cure. The Irishman made
them wait a considerable time for him, but came at last, in the
midst of their impatience, with a grave and simple countenance,
that shewed no signs of his being a cheat. Monsieur de Comminges
prepared to question him strictly, hoping to discourse with him on
the matters that he had read of in Van Helmont and Bodinus; but he
was not able to do so, much to his regret, for the crowd became so
great, and cripples and others pressed around so impatiently to be
the first cured, that the servants were obliged to use threats,
and even force, before they could establish order among them, or
place them in proper ranks.

"The prophet affirmed that all diseases were caused by evil
spirits. Every infirmity was with him a case of diabolical
possession. The first that was presented to him was a man
suffering from gout and rheumatism, and so severely that the
physicians had been unable to cure him. 'Ah,' said the
miracle-worker, 'I have seen a good deal of this sort of spirits
when I was in Ireland. They are watery spirits, who bring on cold
shivering, and excite an overflow of aqueous humours in our poor
bodies.' Then addressing the man, he said, 'Evil spirit, who hast
quitted thy dwelling in the waters to come and afflict this
miserable body, I command thee to quit thy new abode, and to
return to thine ancient habitation!' This said, the sick man was
ordered to withdraw, and another was brought forward in his place.
This new comer said he was tormented by the melancholy vapours. In
fact, he looked like a hypochondriac; one of those persons
diseased in imagination, and who but too often become so in
reality. 'Aerial spirit,' said the Irishman, 'return, I command
thee, into the air;—exercise thy natural vocation of raising
tempests, and do not excite any more wind in this sad unlucky
body!' This man was immediately turned away to make room for a
third patient, who, in the Irishman's opinion, was only tormented
by a little bit of a sprite, who could not withstand his command
for an instant. He pretended that he recognized this sprite by
some marks which were invisible to the company, to whom he turned
with a smile, and said, 'This sort of spirit does not often do
much harm, and is always very diverting.' To hear him talk, one
would have imagined that he knew all about spirits,—their names,
their rank, their numbers, their employment, and all the functions
they were destined to; and he boasted of being much better
acquainted with the intrigues of demons than he was with the
affairs of men. You can hardly imagine what a reputation he gained
in a short time. Catholics and Protestants visited him from every
part, all believing that power from heaven was in his hands."

After relating a rather equivocal adventure of a husband and wife,
who implored Greatraks to cast out the devil of dissension which
had crept in between them, St. Evremond thus sums up the effect he
produced on the popular mind: "So great was the confidence in him,
that the blind fancied they saw the light which they did not
see—the deaf imagined that they heard—the lame that they walked
straight, and the paralytic that they had recovered the use of
their limbs. An idea of health made the sick forget for a while
their maladies; and imagination, which was not less active in
those merely drawn by curiosity than in the sick, gave a false
view to the one class, from the desire of seeing, as it operated a
false cure on the other from the strong desire of being healed.
Such was the power of the Irishman over the mind, and such was the
influence of the mind upon the body. Nothing was spoken of in
London but his prodigies; and these prodigies were supported by
such great authorities, that the bewildered multitude believed
them almost without examination, while more enlightened people did
not dare to reject them from their own knowledge. The public
opinion, timid and enslaved, respected this imperious and,
apparently, well-authenticated error. Those who saw through the
delusion kept their opinion to themselves, knowing how useless it
was to declare their disbelief to a people filled with prejudice
and admiration."

About the same time that Valentine Greatraks was thus magnetising
the people of London, an Italian enthusiast, named Francisco
Bagnone, was performing the same tricks in Italy, and with as
great success. He had only to touch weak women with his hands, or
sometimes (for the sake of working more effectively upon their
fanaticism) with a relic, to make them fall into fits, and
manifest all the symptoms of magnetism.

Besides these, several learned men, in different parts of Europe,
directed their attention to the study of the magnet, believing it
might be rendered efficacious in many diseases. Van Helmont, in
particular, published a work on the effects of magnetism on the
human frame; and Balthazar Gracian, a Spaniard, rendered himself
famous for the boldness of his views on the subject. "The magnet,"
said the latter, "attracts iron; iron is found every where; every
thing, therefore, is under the influence of magnetism. It is only
a modification of the general principle, which establishes harmony
or foments divisions among men. It is the same agent which gives
rise to sympathy, antipathy, and the passions."57*

Baptista Porta, who, in the whimsical genealogy of the
weapon-salve, given by Parson Foster, in his attack upon Dr. à
Fluctibus, is mentioned as one of its fathers, had also great
faith in the efficacy of the magnet, and operated upon the
imagination of his patients in a manner which was then considered
so extraordinary that he was accused of being a magician, and
prohibited from practising by the court of Rome. Among others who
distinguished themselves by their faith in magnetism, Sebastian
Wirdig and William Maxwell claim especial notice. Wirdig was
professor of medicine at the University of Rostock in Mecklenburg,
and wrote a treatise called The New Medicine of the Spirits, which
he presented to the Royal Society of London. An edition of this
work was printed in 1673, in which the author maintained that a
magnetic influence took place, not only between the celestial and
terrestrial bodies, but between all living things. The whole
world, he said, was under the influence of magnetism: life was
preserved by magnetism; death was the consequence of magnetism!

Maxwell, the other enthusiast, was an admiring disciple of
Paracelsus, and boasted that he had irradiated the obscurity in
which too many of the wonder-working recipes of that great
philosopher were enveloped. His works were printed at Frankfort in
1679. It would seem, from the following passage, that he was aware
of the great influence of imagination, as well in the production
as in the cure of diseases. "If you wish to work prodigies," says
he, "abstract from the materiality of beings—increase the sum of
spirituality in bodies—rouse the spirit from its slumbers. Unless
you do one or other of these things—unless you can bind the idea,
you can never perform anything good or great." Here, in fact, lies
the whole secret of magnetism, and all delusions of a similar
kind: increase the spirituality—rouse the spirit from its
slumbers, or, in other words, work upon the imagination—induce
belief and blind confidence, and you may do any thing. This
passage, which is quoted with approbation by M. Dupotet58* in a
recent work as strongly corroborative of the theory now advanced
by the animal-magnetists, is just the reverse. If they believe
they can work all their wonders by the means so dimly shadowed
forth by Maxwell, what becomes of the universal fluid pervading
all nature, and which they pretend to pour into weak and diseased
bodies from the tips of their fingers?

Early in the eighteenth century, the attention of Europe was
directed to a very remarkable instance of fanaticism, which has
been claimed by the animal magnetists as a proof of their science.
The Convulsionaries of St. Medard, as they were called, assembled
in great numbers round the tomb of their favourite saint, the
Jansenist priest Paris, and taught one another how to fall into
convulsions. They believed that St. Paris would cure all their
infirmities; and the number of hysterical women and weak-minded
persons of all descriptions that flocked to the tomb from far and
near was so great, as daily to block up all the avenues leading to
it. Working themselves up to a pitch of excitement, they went off
one after the other into fits, while some of them, still in
apparent possession of all their faculties, voluntarily exposed
themselves to sufferings, which on ordinary occasions would have
been sufficient to deprive them of life. The scenes that occurred
were a scandal to civilization and to religion—a strange mixture
of obscenity, absurdity, and superstition. While some were praying
on bended knees at the shrine of St. Paris, others were shrieking
and making the most hideous noises. The women especially exerted
themselves. On one side of the chapel there might be seen a score
of them, all in convulsions, while at another as many more,
excited to a sort of frenzy, yielded themselves up to gross
indecencies. Some of them took an insane delight in being beaten
and trampled upon. One in particular, according to Montégre, whose
account we quote59* was so enraptured with this ill usage, that
nothing but the hardest blows would satisfy her. While a fellow of
Herculean strength was beating her with all his might with a heavy
bar of iron, she kept continually urging him to renewed exertion.
The harder he struck the better she liked it, exclaiming all the
while, "Well done, brother, well done! Oh, how pleasant it is!
what good you are doing me! Courage, my brother, courage; strike
harder; strike harder still!" Another of these fanatics had, if
possible, a still greater love for a beating. Carré de Montgeron,
who relates the circumstance, was unable to satisfy her with sixty
blows of a large sledge-hammer. He afterwards used the same
weapon, with the same degree of strength, for the sake of
experiment, and succeeded in battering a hole in a stone wall at
the twenty-fifth stroke. Another woman, named Sonnet, laid herself
down on a red-hot brazier without flinching, and acquired for
herself the nickname of the Salamander; while others, desirous of
a more illustrious martyrdom, attempted to crucify themselves. M.
Deleuze, in his critical history of Animal Magnetism, attempts to
prove that this fanatical frenzy was produced by magnetism, and
that these mad enthusiasts magnetised each other without being
aware of it. As well might he insist that the fanaticism which
tempts the Hindoo bigot to keep his arms stretched in a horizontal
position till the sinews wither, or his fingers closed upon his
palms till the nails grow out of the backs of his hands, is also
an effect of magnetism!

For a period of sixty or seventy years magnetism was almost wholly
confined to Germany. Men of sense and learning devoted their
attention to the properties of the loadstone; and one Father Hell,
a Jesuit, and professor of astronomy at the University of Vienna,
rendered himself famous by his magnetic cures. About the year 1771
or 1772 he invented steel-plates of a peculiar form, which he
applied to the naked body, as a cure for several diseases. In the
year 1774, he communicated his system to Anthony Mesmer. The
latter improved upon the ideas of Father Hell, constructed a new
theory of his own, and became the founder of ANIMAL MAGNETISM.

It has been the fashion among the enemies of the new delusion to
decry Mesmer as an unprincipled adventurer, while his disciples
have extolled him to the skies as a regenerator of the human race.
In nearly the same words as the Rosicrucians applied to their
founders, he has been called the discoverer of the secret which
brings man into more intimate connexion with his Creator, the
deliverer of the soul from the debasing trammels of the flesh, the
man who enables us to set time at defiance, and conquer the
obstructions of space. A careful sifting of his pretensions, and
examination of the evidence brought forward to sustain them, will
soon shew which opinion is the more correct. That the writer of
these pages considers him in the light of a man, who deluding
himself, was the means of deluding others, may be inferred from
his finding a place in these volumes, and figuring among the
Flamels, the Agrippas, the Borris, the Böhmens, and the
Cagliostros.

He was born in May 1734, at Mersburg, in Swabia, and studied
medicine at the University of Vienna. He took his degrees in 1766,
and chose the influence of the planets on the human body as the
subject of his inaugural dissertation. Having treated the matter
quite in the style of the old astrological physicians, he was
exposed to some ridicule both then and afterwards. Even at this
early period some faint ideas of his great theory were germinating
in his mind. He maintained in his dissertation, "that the sun,
moon, and fixed stars mutually affect each other in their orbits;
that they cause and direct in our earth a flux and reflux not only
in the sea, but in the atmosphere, and affect in a similar manner
all organized bodies through the medium of a subtile and mobile
fluid, which pervades the universe, and associates all things
together in mutual intercourse and harmony." This influence, he
said, was particularly exercised on the nervous system, and
produced two states, which he called intension and remission,
which seemed to him to account for the different periodical
revolutions observable in several maladies. When in after-life he
met with Father Hell, he was confirmed by that person's
observations in the truth of many of his own ideas. Having caused
Hell to make him some magnetic plates, he determined to try
experiments with them himself for his further satisfaction.

He tried accordingly, and was astonished at his success. The faith
of their wearers operated wonders with the metallic plates. Mesmer
made due reports to Father Hell of all he had done, and the latter
published them as the results of his own happy invention, and
speaking of Mesmer as a physician whom he had employed to work
under him. Mesmer took offence at being thus treated, considering
himself a far greater personage than Father Hell. He claimed the
invention as his own, accused Hell of a breach of confidence, and
stigmatized him as a mean person, anxious to turn the discoveries
of others to his own account. Hell replied, and a very pretty
quarrel was the result, which afforded small talk for months to
the literati of Vienna. Hell ultimately gained the victory.
Mesmer, nothing daunted, continued to promulgate his views till he
stumbled at last upon the animal theory.

One of his patients was a young lady named Œsterline, who suffered
under a convulsive malady. Her attacks were periodical, and
attended by a rush of blood to the head, followed by delirium and
syncope. These symptoms he soon succeeded in reducing under his
system of planetary influence, and imagined he could foretell the
periods of accession and remission. Having thus accounted
satisfactorily to himself for the origin of the disease, the idea
struck him that he could operate a certain cure if he could
ascertain beyond doubt, what he had long believed, that there
existed between the bodies which compose our globe an action
equally reciprocal and similar to that of the heavenly bodies, by
means of which he could imitate artificially the periodical
revolutions of the flux and reflux before mentioned. He soon
convinced himself that this action did exist. When trying the
metallic plates of Father Hell, he thought their efficacy depended
on their form; but he found afterwards that he could produce the
same effects without using them at all, merely by passing his
hands downwards towards the feet of the patient, even when at a
considerable distance.

This completed the theory of Mesmer. He wrote an account of his
discovery to all the learned societies of Europe, soliciting their
investigation. The Academy of Sciences at Berlin was the only one
that answered him, and their answer was any thing but favourable
to his system or flattering to himself. Still he was not
discouraged. He maintained to all who would listen to him that the
magnetic matter, or fluid, pervaded all the universe—that every
human body contained it, and could communicate the superabundance
of it to another by an exertion of the will. Writing to a friend
from Vienna, he said, "I have observed that the magnetic is almost
the same thing as the electric fluid, and that it may be
propagated in the same manner, by means of intermediate bodies.
Steel is not the only substance adapted to this purpose. I have
rendered paper, bread, wool, silk, stones, leather, glass, wood,
men, and dogs—in short, every thing I touched, magnetic to such a
degree, that these substances produced the same effects as the
loadstone on diseased persons. I have charged jars with magnetic
matter in the same way as is done with electricity."

Mesmer did not long find his residence at Vienna as agreeable as
he wished. His pretensions were looked upon with contempt or
indifference, and the case of Mademoiselle Œsterline brought him
less fame than notoriety. He determined to change his sphere of
action, and travelled into Swabia and Switzerland. In the latter
country he met with the celebrated Father Gassner, who, like
Valentine Greatraks, amused himself by casting out devils, and
healing the sick by merely laying hands upon them. At his
approach, delicate girls fell into convulsions, and the
hypochondriacs fancied themselves cured. His house was daily
besieged by the lame, the blind, and the hysteric. Mesmer at once
acknowledged the efficacy of his cures, and declared that they
were the obvious result of his own newly-discovered power of
magnetism. A few of the father's patients were forthwith subjected
to the manipulations of Mesmer, and the same symptoms were
induced. He then tried his hand upon some paupers in the hospitals
of Berne and Zurich, and succeeded, according to his own account,
but no other person's, in curing an opththalmia and a gutta
serena. With memorials of these achievements he returned to
Vienna, in the hope of silencing his enemies, or at least forcing
them to respect his newly-acquired reputation, and to examine his
system more attentively.

His second appearance in that capital was not more auspicious than
the first. He undertook to cure a Mademoiselle Paradis, who was
quite blind, and subject to convulsions. He magnetised her several
times, and then declared that she was cured; at least, if she was
not, it was her fault, and not his. An eminent oculist of that
day, named Barth, went to visit her, and declared that she was as
blind as ever; while her family said she was as much subject to
convulsions as before. Mesmer persisted that she was cured. Like
the French philosopher, he would not allow facts to interfere with
his theory.60* He declared that there was a conspiracy against
him; and that Mademoiselle Paradis, at the instigation of her
family, feigned blindness in order to injure his reputation!

The consequences of this pretended cure taught Mesmer that Vienna
was not the sphere for him. Paris, the idle, the debauched, the
pleasure-hunting, the novelty-loving, was the scene for a
philosopher like him, and thither he repaired accordingly. He
arrived at Paris in 1778, and began modestly by making himself and
his theory known to the principal physicians. At first, his
encouragement was but slight; he found people more inclined to
laugh at than to patronise him. But he was a man who had great
confidence in himself, and of a perseverance which no difficulties
could overcome. He hired a sumptuous apartment, which he opened to
all comers who chose to make trial of the new power of nature. M.
D'Eslon, a physician of great reputation, became a convert; and
from that time, animal magnetism, or, as some called it,
mesmerism, became the fashion in Paris. The women were quite
enthusiastic about it, and their admiring tattle wafted its fame
through every grade of society. Mesmer was the rage; and high and
low, rich and poor, credulous and unbelieving, all hastened to
convince themselves of the power of this mighty magician, who made
such magnificent promises. Mesmer, who knew as well as any man
living the influence of the imagination, determined that, on that
score, nothing should be wanting to heighten the effect of the
magnetic charm. In all Paris, there was not a house so charmingly
furnished as Monsieur Mesmer's. Richly-stained glass shed a dim
religious light on his spacious saloons, which were almost covered
with mirrors. Orange-blossoms scented all the air of his
corridors; incense of the most expensive kinds burned in antique
vases on his chimney-pieces; æolian harps sighed melodious music
from distant chambers; while sometimes a sweet female voice, from
above or below, stole softly upon the mysterious silence that was
kept in the house, and insisted upon from all visitors. "Was ever
any thing so delightful!" cried all the Mrs. Wittitterley's of
Paris, as they thronged to his house in search of pleasant
excitement; "So wonderful!" said the pseudo-philosophers, who
would believe any thing if it were the fashion; "So amusing!" said
the worn-out debauchés, who had drained the cup of sensuality to
its dregs, and who longed to see lovely women in convulsions, with
the hope that they might gain some new emotions from the sight.

The following was the mode of operation: In the centre of the
saloon was placed an oval vessel, about four feet in its longest
diameter, and one foot deep. In this were laid a number of
wine-bottles, filled with magnetised water, well corked-up, and
disposed in radii, with their necks outwards. Water was then
poured into the vessel so as just to cover the bottles, and
filings of iron were thrown in occasionally to heighten the
magnetic effect. The vessel was then covered with an iron cover,
pierced through with many holes, and was called the baquet. From
each hole issued a long moveable rod of iron, which the patients
were to apply to such parts of their bodies as were afflicted.
Around this baquet the patients were directed to sit, holding each
other by the hand, and pressing their knees together as closely as
possible to facilitate the passage of the magnetic fluid from one
to the other.

Then came in the assistant magnetisers, generally strong, handsome
young men, to pour into the patient from their finger-tips fresh
streams of the wondrous fluid. They embraced the patients between
the knees, rubbed them gently down the spine and the course of the
nerves, using gentle pressure upon the breasts of the ladies, and
staring them out of countenance to magnetise them by the eye! All
this time the most rigorous silence was maintained, with the
exception of a few wild notes on the harmonica or the piano-forte,
or the melodious voice of a hidden opera-singer swelling softly at
long intervals. Gradually the cheeks of the ladies began to glow,
their imaginations to become inflamed; and off they went, one
after the other, in convulsive fits. Some of them sobbed and tore
their hair, others laughed till the tears ran from their eyes,
while others shrieked and screamed and yelled till they became
insensible altogether.

This was the crisis of the delirium. In the midst of it, the chief
actor made his appearance, waving his wand, like Prospero, to work
new wonders. Dressed in a long robe of lilac-coloured silk, richly
embroidered with gold flowers, bearing in his hand a white
magnetic rod; and, with a look of dignity which would have sat
well on an eastern caliph, he marched with solemn strides into the
room. He awed the still sensible by his eye, and the violence of
their symptoms diminished. He stroked the insensible with his
hands upon the eyebrows and down the spine; traced figures upon
their breast and abdomen with his long white wand, and they were
restored to consciousness. They became calm, acknowledged his
power, and said they felt streams of cold or burning vapour
passing through their frames, according as he waved his wand or
his fingers before them.

"It is impossible," says M. Dupotet, "to conceive the sensation
which Mesmer's experiments created in Paris. No theological
controversy, in the earlier ages of the Catholic Church, was ever
conducted with greater bitterness." His adversaries denied the
discovery; some calling him a quack, others a fool, and others
again, like the Abbé Fiard, a man who had sold himself to the
Devil! His friends were as extravagant in their praise, as his
foes were in their censure. Paris was inundated with pamphlets
upon the subject, as many defending as attacking the doctrine. At
court, the queen expressed herself in favour of it, and nothing
else was to be heard of in society.

By the advice of M. D'Eslon, Mesmer challenged an examination of
his doctrine by the Faculty of Medicine. He proposed to select
twenty-four patients, twelve of whom he would treat magnetically,
leaving the other twelve to be treated by the faculty according to
the old and approved methods. He also stipulated that, to prevent
disputes, the government should nominate certain persons who were
not physicians, to be present at the experiments; and that the
object of the inquiry should be, not how these effects were
produced, but whether they were really efficacious in the cure of
any disease. The faculty objected to limit the inquiry in this
manner, and the proposition fell to the ground.

Mesmer now wrote to Marie Antoinette, with the view of securing
her influence in obtaining for him the protection of government.
He wished to have a château and its lands given to him, with a
handsome yearly income, that he might be enabled to continue his
experiments at leisure, untroubled by the persecution of his
enemies. He hinted the duty of governments to support men of
science, and expressed his fear, that if he met no more
encouragement, he should be compelled to carry his great discovery
to some other land more willing to appreciate him. "In the eyes of
your majesty," said he, "four or five hundred thousand francs,
applied to a good purpose, are of no account. The welfare and
happiness of your people are every thing. My discovery ought to be
received and rewarded with a munificence worthy of the monarch to
whom I shall attach myself." The government at last offered him a
pension of twenty thousand francs, and the cross of the order of
St. Michael, if he had made any discovery in medicine, and would
communicate it to physicians nominated by the king. The latter
part of the proposition was not agreeable to Mesmer. He feared the
unfavourable report of the king's physicians; and, breaking off
the negotiation, spoke of his disregard of money, and his wish to
have his discovery at once recognised by the government. He then
retired to Spa, in a fit of disgust, upon pretence of drinking the
waters for the benefit of his health.

After he had left Paris, the Faculty of Medicine called upon M.
D'Eslon, for the third and last time, to renounce the doctrine of
animal magnetism, or be expelled from their body. M. D'Eslon, so
far from doing this, declared that he had discovered new secrets,
and solicited further examination. A royal commission of the
Faculty of Medicine was, in consequence, appointed on the l2th of
March 1784, seconded by another commission of the Académie des
Sciences, to investigate the phenomena and report upon them. The
first commission was composed of the principal physicians of
Paris; while, among the eminent men comprised in the latter, were
Benjamin Franklin, Lavoisier, and Bailly the historian of
astronomy. Mesmer was formally invited to appear before this body,
but absented himself from day to day, upon one pretence or
another. M. D'Eslon was more honest, because he thoroughly
believed in the phenomena, which it is to be questioned if Mesmer
ever did, and regularly attended the sittings and performed
experiments.

Bailly has thus described the scenes of which he was a witness in
the course of this investigation. "The sick persons, arranged in
great numbers and in several rows around the baquet, receive the
magnetism by all these means: by the iron rods which convey it to
them from the baquet—by the cords wound round their bodies—by the
connection of the thumb, which conveys to them the magnetism of
their neighbours—and by the sounds of a piano-forte, or of an
agreeable voice, diffusing the magnetism in the air. The patients
were also directly magnetised by means of the finger and wand of
the magnetiser moved slowly before their faces, above or behind
their heads, and on the diseased parts, always observing the
direction of the holes. The magnetiser acts by fixing his eyes on
them. But above all, they are magnetised by the application of his
hands and the pressure of his fingers on the hypochondres and on
the regions of the abdomen; an application often continued for a
long time—sometimes for several hours.

"Meanwhile the patients in their different conditions present a
very varied picture. Some are calm, tranquil, and experience no
effect. Others cough, spit, feel slight pains, local or general
heat, and have sweatings. Others again are agitated and tormented
with convulsions. These convulsions are remarkable in regard to
the number affected with them, to their duration and force. As
soon as one begins to be convulsed, several others are affected.
The commissioners have observed some of these convulsions last
more than three hours. They are accompanied with expectorations of
a muddy viscous water, brought away by violent efforts. Sometimes
streaks of blood have been observed in this fluid. These
convulsions are characterized by the precipitous, involuntary
motion of all the limbs, and of the whole body; by the contraction
of the throat—by the leaping motions of the hypochondria and the
epigastrium—by the dimness and wandering of the eyes—by piercing
shrieks, tears, sobbing, and immoderate laughter. They are
preceded or followed by a state of languor or reverie, a kind of
depression, and sometimes drowsiness. The smallest sudden noise
occasions a shuddering; and it was remarked, that the change of
measure in the airs played on the piano-forte had a great
influence on the patients. A quicker motion, a livelier melody,
agitated them more, and renewed the vivacity of their convulsions.

"Nothing is more astonishing than the spectacle of these
convulsions. One who has not seen them can form no idea of them.
The spectator is as much astonished at the profound repose of one
portion of the patients as at the agitation of the rest—at the
various accidents which are repeated, and at the sympathies which
are exhibited. Some of the patients may be seen devoting their
attention exclusively to one another, rushing towards each other
with open arms, smiling, soothing, and manifesting every symptom
of attachment and affection. All are under the power of the
magnetiser; it matters not in what state of drowsiness they may
be, the sound of his voice—a look, a motion of his hand—brings
them out of it. Among the patients in convulsions there are always
observed a great many women, and very few men."61*

These experiments lasted for about five months. They had hardly
commenced, before Mesmer, alarmed at the loss both of fame and
profit, determined to return to Paris. Some patients of rank and
fortune, enthusiastic believers in his doctrine, had followed him
to Spa. One of them named Bergasse, proposed to open a
subscription for him, of one hundred shares, at one hundred louis
each, on condition that he would disclose his secret to the
subscribers, who were to be permitted to make whatever use they
pleased of it. Mesmer readily embraced the proposal; and such was
the infatuation, that the subscription was not only filled in a
few days, but exceeded by no less a sum than one hundred and forty
thousand francs.

With this fortune he returned to Paris, and recommenced his
experiments, while the royal commission continued theirs. His
admiring pupils, who had paid him so handsomely for his
instructions, spread the delusion over the country, and
established in all the principal towns of France, "Societies of
Harmony," for trying experiments and curing all diseases by means
of magnetism. Some of these societies were a scandal to morality,
being joined by profligate men of depraved appetites, who took a
disgusting delight in witnessing young girls in convulsions. Many
of the pretended magnetisers were asserted at the time to be
notorious libertines, who took that opportunity of gratifying
their passions.

At last the commissioners published their report, which was drawn
up by the illustrious and unfortunate Bailly. For clearness of
reasoning and strict impartiality it has never been surpassed.
After detailing the various experiments made, and their results,
they came to the conclusion that the only proof advanced in
support of animal magnetism was the effects it produced on the
human body—that those effects could be produced without passes or
other magnetic manipulations—that all these manipulations and
passes and ceremonies never produce any effect at all if employed
without the patient's knowledge; and that therefore imagination
did, and animal magnetism did not, account for the phenomena.

This report was the ruin of Mesmer's reputation in France. He
quitted Paris shortly after, with the three hundred and forty
thousand francs which had been subscribed by his admirers, and
retired to his own country, where he died in 1815, at the advanced
age of eighty-one. But the seeds he had sown fructified of
themselves, nourished and brought to maturity by the kindly warmth
of popular credulity. Imitators sprang up in France, Germany, and
England, more extravagant than their master, and claiming powers
for the new science which its founder had never dreamt of. Among
others, Cagliostro made good use of the delusion in extending his
claims to be considered a master of the occult sciences. But he
made no discoveries worthy to be compared to those of the Marquis
de Puysegur and the Chevalier Barbarin, honest men, who began by
deceiving themselves before they deceived others.

The Marquis de Puysegur, the owner of a considerable estate at
Busancy, was one of those who had entered into the subscription
for Mesmer. After that individual had quitted France, he retired
to Busancy, with his brother, to try animal magnetism upon his
tenants, and cure the country people of all manner of diseases. He
was a man of great simplicity and much benevolence, and not only
magnetised but fed the sick that flocked around him. In all the
neighbourhood, and indeed within a circumference of twenty miles,
he was looked upon as endowed with a power almost divine. His
great discovery, as he called it, was made by chance. One day he
had magnetised his gardener; and observing him to fall into a deep
sleep, it occurred to him that he would address a question to him,
as he would have done to a natural somnambulist. He did so, and
the man replied with much clearness and precision. M. de Puysegur
was agreeably surprised: he continued his experiments, and found
that, in this state of magnetic somnambulism, the soul of the
sleeper was enlarged, and brought into more intimate communion
with all nature, and more especially with him, M. de Puysegur. He
found that all further manipulations were unnecessary; that,
without speaking or making any sign, he could convey his will to
the patient; that he could, in fact, converse with him, soul to
soul, without the employment of any physical operation whatever!

Simultaneously with this marvellous discovery he made another,
which reflects equal credit upon his understanding. Like Valentine
Greatraks, he found it hard work to magnetise all that came—that
he had not even time to take the repose and relaxation which were
necessary for his health. In this emergency he hit upon a clever
expedient. He had heard Mesmer say that he could magnetise bits of
wood: why should he not be able to magnetise a whole tree? It was
no sooner thought than done. There was a large elm on the village
green at Busancy, under which the peasant girls used to dance on
festive occasions, and the old men to sit, drinking their vin du
pays, on the fine summer evenings. M. de Puysegur proceeded to
this tree and magnetised it, by first touching it with his hands,
and then retiring a few steps from it; all the while directing
streams of the magnetic fluid from the branches toward the trunk,
and from the trunk toward the root. This done, he caused circular
seats to be erected round it, and cords suspended from it in all
directions. When the patients had seated themselves, they twisted
the cords round the diseased parts of their bodies, and held one
another firmly by their thumbs to form a direct channel of
communication for the passage of the fluid.

M. de Puysegur had now two "hobbies"—the man with the enlarged
soul and the magnetic elm. The infatuation of himself and his
patients cannot be better expressed than in his own words. Writing
to his brother, on the 17th of May 1784, he says, "If you do not
come, my dear friend, you will not see my extraordinary man, for
his health is now almost quite restored. I continue to make use of
the happy power for which I am indebted to M. Mesmer. Every day I
bless his name; for I am very useful, and produce many salutary
effects on all the sick poor in the neighbourhood. They flock
around my tree; there were more than one hundred and thirty of
them this morning. It is the best baquet possible; not a leaf of
it but communicates health! all feel, more or less, the good
effects of it. You will be delighted to see the charming picture
of humanity which this presents. I have only one regret—it is,
that I cannot touch all who come. But my magnetised man—my
intelligence—sets me at ease. He teaches me what conduct I should
adopt. According to him, it is not at all necessary that I should
touch every one; a look, a gesture, even a wish, is sufficient.
And it is one of the most ignorant peasants of the country that
teaches me this! When he is in a crisis, I know of nothing more
profound, more prudent, more clearsighted (clairvoyant) than he
is."

In another letter, describing his first experiment with the
magnetic tree, he says, "Yesterday evening I brought my first
patient to it. As soon as I had put the cord round him he gazed at
the tree; and, with an air of astonishment which I cannot
describe, exclaimed, 'What is it that I see there?' His head then
sunk down, and he fell into a perfect fit of somnambulism. At the
end of an hour, I took him home to his house again, when I
restored him to his senses. Several men and women came to tell him
what he had been doing. He maintained it was not true; that, weak
as he was, and scarcely able to walk, it would have been scarcely
possible for him to have gone down stairs and walked to the tree.
To-day I have repeated the experiment on him, and with the same
success. I own to you that my head turns round with pleasure to
think of the good I do. Madame de Puysegur, the friends she has
with her, my servants, and, in fact, all who are near me, feel an
amazement, mingled with admiration, which cannot be described; but
they do not experience the half of my sensations. Without my tree,
which gives me rest, and which will give me still more, I should
be in a state of agitation, inconsistent, I believe, with my
health. I exist too much, if I may be allowed to use the
expression."

In another letter, he descants still more poetically upon his
gardener with the enlarged soul. He says, "It is from this simple
man, this tall and stout rustic, twenty-three years of age,
enfeebled by disease, or rather by sorrow, and therefore the more
predisposed to be affected by any great natural agent,—it is from
this man, I repeat, that I derive instruction and knowledge. When
in the magnetic state, he is no longer a peasant who can hardly
utter a single sentence; he is a being, to describe whom I cannot
find a name. I need not speak; I have only to think before him,
when he instantly understands and answers me. Should any body come
into the room, he sees him, if I desire it (but not else), and
addresses him, and says what I wish him to say; not indeed exactly
as I dictate to him, but as truth requires. When he wants to add
more than I deem it prudent strangers should hear, I stop the flow
of his ideas, and of his conversation in the middle of a word, and
give it quite a different turn!"

Among other persons attracted to Busancy by the report of these
extraordinary occurrences was M. Cloquet, the Receiver of Finance.
His appetite for the marvellous being somewhat insatiable, he
readily believed all that was told him by M. de Puysegur. He also
has left a record of what he saw, and what he credited, which
throws a still clearer light upon the progress of the delusion.62*
He says that the patients he saw in the magnetic state had an
appearance of deep sleep, during which all the physical faculties
were suspended, to the advantage of the intellectual faculties.
The eyes of the patients were closed; the sense of hearing was
abolished, and they awoke only at the voice of their magnetiser.
"If any one touched a patient during a crisis, or even the chair
on which he was seated," says M. Cloquet, "it would cause him much
pain and suffering, and throw him into convulsions. During the
crisis, they possess an extraordinary and supernatural power, by
which, on touching a patient presented to them, they can feel what
part of his body is diseased, even by merely passing their hand
over the clothes." Another singularity was, that these sleepers
who could thus discover diseases, see into the interior of other
men's stomachs, and point out remedies, remembered absolutely
nothing after the magnetiser thought proper to disenchant them.
The time that elapsed between their entering the crisis and their
coming out of it was obliterated. Not only had the magnetiser the
power of making himself heard by the somnambulists, but he could
make them follow him by merely pointing his finger at them from a
distance, though they had their eyes the whole time completely
closed.

Such was animal magnetism under the auspices of the Marquis de
Puysegur. While he was exhibiting these phenomena around his
elm-tree, a magnetiser of another class appeared in Lyons, in the
person of the Chevalier de Barbarin. This person thought the
effort of the will, without any of the paraphernalia of wands or
baquets, was sufficient to throw patients into the magnetic sleep.
He tried it and succeeded. By sitting at the bedside of his
patients, and praying that they might be magnetised, they went off
into a state very similar to that of the persons who fell under
the notice of M. de Puysegur. In the course of time a very
considerable number of magnetisers, acknowledging Barbarin for
their model, and called after him Barbarinists, appeared in
different parts, and were believed to have effected some
remarkable cures. In Sweden and Germany, this sect of fanatics
increased rapidly, and were called spiritualists, to distinguish
them from the followers of M. de Puysegur, who were called
experimentalists. They maintained that all the effects of animal
magnetism, which Mesmer believed to be producible by a magnetic
fluid dispersed through nature, were produced by the mere effort
of one human soul acting upon another; that when a connexion had
once been established between a magnetiser and his patient, the
former could communicate his influence to the latter from any
distance, even hundreds of miles, by the will. One of them thus
described the blessed state of a magnetic patient: "In such a man
animal instinct ascends to the highest degree admissible in this
world. The clairvoyant is then a pure animal, without any
admixture of matter. His observations are those of a spirit. He is
similar to God: his eye penetrates all the secrets of nature. When
his attention is fixed on any of the objects of this world—on his
disease, his death, his well-beloved, his friends, his relations,
his enemies,—in spirit he sees them acting; he penetrates into the
causes and the consequences of their actions; he becomes a
physician, a prophet, a divine!"63*

Let us now see what progress these mysteries made in England. In
the year 1788, Dr. Mainauduc, who had been a pupil, first of
Mesmer, and afterwards of D'Eslon, arrived in Bristol, and gave
public lectures upon magnetism. His success was quite
extraordinary. People of rank and fortune hastened from London to
Bristol to be magnetised, or to place themselves under his
tuition. Dr. George Winter, in his History of Animal Magnetism,
gives the following list of them: "They amounted to one hundred
and twenty-seven, among whom there were one duke, one duchess, one
marchioness, two countesses, one earl, one baron, three
baronesses, one bishop, five right honourable gentlemen and
ladies, two baronets, seven members of parliament, one clergyman,
two physicians, seven surgeons, besides ninety-two gentlemen and
ladies of respectability." He afterwards established himself in
London, where he performed with equal success.

He began by publishing proposals to the ladies for the formation
of a Hygeian Society. In this paper he vaunted highly the curative
effects of animal magnetism, and took great credit to himself for
being the first person to introduce it into England, and thus
concluded: "As this method of cure is not confined to sex or
college education, and the fair sex being in general the most
sympathising part of the creation, and most immediately concerned
in the health and care of its offspring, I think myself bound in
gratitude to you, ladies, for the partiality you have shewn me in
midwifery, to contribute, as far as lies in my power, to render
you additionally useful and valuable to the community. With this
view, I propose forming my Hygeian Society, to be incorporated
with that of Paris. As soon as twenty ladies have given in their
names, the day shall be appointed for the first meeting at my
house, when they are to pay fifteen guineas, which will include
the whole expense."

Hannah More, in a letter addressed to Horace Walpole in September
1788, speaks of the "demoniacal mummeries" of Dr. Mainauduc, and
says he was in a fair way of gaining a hundred thousand pounds by
them, as Mesmer had done by his exhibitions in Paris.

So much curiosity was excited by the subject that, about the same
time, a man, named Holloway, gave a course of lectures on animal
magnetism in London, at the rate of five guineas for each pupil,
and realised a considerable fortune. Loutherbourg the painter and
his wife followed the same profitable trade; and such was the
infatuation of the people to be witnesses of their strange
manipulations, that at times upwards of three thousand persons
crowded around their house at Hammersmith, unable to gain
admission. The tickets sold at prices varying from one to three
guineas. Loutherbourg performed his cures by the touch, after the
manner of Valentine Greatraks, and finally pretended to a divine
mission. An account of his miracles, as they were called, was
published in 1789, entitled A List of New Cures performed by Mr.
and Mrs. de Loutherbourg, of Hammersmith Terrace, without
Medicine; by a Lover of the Lamb of God. Dedicated to his Grace
the Archbishop of Canterbury.

This "Lover of the Lamb of God" was a half-crazy old woman, named
Mary Pratt, who conceived for Mr. and Mrs. de Loutherbourg a
veneration which almost prompted her to worship them. She chose
for the motto of her pamphlet a verse in the thirteenth chapter of
the Acts of the Apostles: "Behold, ye despisers, and wonder and
perish! for I will work a work in your days which ye shall not
believe, though a man declare it unto you." Attempting to give a
religious character to the cures of the painter, she thought a
woman was the proper person to make them known, since the apostle
had declared that a man should not be able to conquer the
incredulity of the people. She stated, that from Christmas 1788 to
July 1789, De Loutherbourg and his wife had cured two thousand
people, "having been made proper recipients to receive divine
manuductions; which heavenly and divine influx, coming from the
radix God, his Divine Majesty had most graciously bestowed upon
them to diffuse healing to all, be they deaf, dumb, blind, lame,
or halt."

In her dedication to the Archbishop of Canterbury she implored him
to compose a new form of prayer, to be used in all churches and
chapels, that nothing might impede this inestimable gift from
having its due course. She further entreated all the magistrates
and men of authority in the land to wait on Mr. and Mrs. de
Loutherbourg, to consult with them on the immediate erection of a
large hospital, with a pool of Bethesda attached to it. All the
magnetisers were scandalised at the preposterous jabber of this
old woman, and De Loutherbourg appears to have left London to
avoid her,—continuing, however, in conjunction with his wife, the
fantastic tricks which had turned the brain of this poor fanatic,
and deluded many others who pretended to more sense than she had.

From this period until 1798 magnetism excited little or no
attention in England. An attempt to revive the doctrine was made
in that year, but it was in the shape of mineral rather than of
animal magnetism. One Benjamin Douglas Perkins, an American,
practising as a surgeon in Leicester Square, invented and took out
a patent for the celebrated "Metallic Tractors." He pretended that
these tractors, which were two small pieces of metal strongly
magnetised, something resembling the steel plates which were first
brought into notice by Father Hell, would cure gout, rheumatism,
palsy, and in fact, almost every disease the human frame was
subject to, if applied externally to the afflicted part, and moved
about gently, touching the surface only. The most wonderful
stories soon obtained general circulation, and the press groaned
with pamphlets, all vaunting the curative effects of the tractors,
which were sold at five guineas the pair. Perkins gained money
rapidly. Gouty subjects forgot their pains in the presence of this
new remedy; the rheumatism fled at its approach; and toothache,
which is often cured by the mere sight of a dentist, vanished
before Perkins and his marvellous steel plates. The benevolent
Society of Friends, of whose body he was a member, warmly
patronised the invention. Desirous that the poor, who could not
afford to pay Mr. Perkins five guineas, or even five shillings for
his tractors, should also share in the benefits of that sublime
discovery, they subscribed a large sum, and built an hospital,
called the "Perkinean Institution," in which all comers might be
magnetised free of cost. In the course of a few months they were
in very general use, and their lucky inventor in possession of
five thousand pounds.

Dr. Haygarth, an eminent physician at Bath, recollecting the
influence of imagination in the cure of disease, hit upon an
expedient to try the real value of the tractors. Perkins's cures
were too well established to be doubted; and Dr. Haygarth, without
gainsaying them, quietly, but in the face of numerous witnesses,
exposed the delusion under which people laboured with respect to
the curative medium. He suggested to Dr. Falconer that they should
make wooden tractors, paint them to resemble the steel ones, and
see if the very same effects would not be produced. Five patients
were chosen from the hospital in Bath, upon whom to operate. Four
of them suffered severely from chronic rheumatism in the ankle,
knee, wrist, and hip; and the fifth had been afflicted for several
months with the gout. On the day appointed for the experiments Dr.
Haygarth and his friends assembled at the hospital, and with much
solemnity brought forth the fictitious tractors. Four out of the
five patients said their pains were immediately relieved; and
three of them said they were not only relieved but very much
benefited. One felt his knee warmer, and said he could walk across
the room. He tried and succeeded, although on the previous day he
had not been able to stir. The gouty man felt his pains diminish
rapidly, and was quite easy for nine hours, until he went to bed,
when the twitching began again. On the following day the real
tractors were applied to all the patients, when they described
their symptoms in nearly the same terms.

To make still more sure, the experiment was tried in the Bristol
infirmary, a few weeks afterwards, on a man who had a rheumatic
affection in the shoulder, so severe as to incapacitate him from
lifting his hand from his knee. The fictitious tractors were
brought and applied to the afflicted part, one of the physicians,
to add solemnity to the scene, drawing a stop-watch from his
pocket to calculate the time exactly, while another, with a pen in
his hand, sat down to write the change of symptoms from minute to
minute as they occurred. In less than four minutes the man felt so
much relieved, that he lifted his hand several inches without any
pain in the shoulder!

An account of these matters was published by Dr. Haygarth, in a
small volume entitled, Of the Imagination, as a Cause and Cure of
Disorders, exemplified by Fictitious Tractors. The exposure was a
coup de grace to the system of Mr. Perkins. His friends and
patrons, still unwilling to confess that they had been deceived,
tried the tractors upon sheep, cows, and horses, alleging that the
animals received benefit from the metallic plates, but none at all
from the wooden ones. But they found nobody to believe them; the
Perkinean institution fell into neglect; and Perkins made his exit
from England, carrying with him about ten thousand pounds, to
soothe his declining years in the good city of Pennsylvania.

Thus was magnetism laughed out of England for a time. In France,
the revolution left men no leisure for studying it. The Sociétés
de l'Harmonie of Strasburg, and other great towns lingered for a
while, till sterner matters occupying men's attention, they were
one after the other abandoned, both by pupils and professors. The
system, thus driven from the first two nations of Europe, took
refuge among the dreamy philosophers of Germany. There the wonders
of the magnetic sleep grew more and more wonderful every day; the
patients acquired the gift of prophecy; their vision extended over
all the surface of the globe; they could hear and see with their
toes and fingers, and read unknown languages, and understand them
too, by merely having the book placed on their stomachs. Ignorant
peasants, when once entranced by the grand mesmeric fluid, could
spout philosophy diviner than Plato ever wrote, descant upon the
mysteries of the mind with more eloquence and truth than the
profoundest metaphysicians the world ever saw, and solve knotty
points of divinity with as much ease as waking men could undo
their shoe-buckles!

During the first twelve years of the present century, little was
heard of animal magnetism in any country of Europe. Even the
Germans forgot their airy fancies; recalled to the knowledge of
this every-day world by the roar of Napoleon's cannon and the fall
or the establishment of kingdoms. During this period a cloud of
obscurity hung over the science, which was not dispersed until M.
Deleuze published, in 1813, his Histoire Critique du Magnétisme
Animal. This work gave a new impulse to the half-forgotten fancy.
Newspapers, pamphlets, and books again waged war upon each other
on the question of its truth or falsehood; and many eminent men in
the profession of medicine recommenced inquiry, with an earnest
design to discover the truth.

The assertions made in the celebrated treatise of Deleuze are thus
summed up:64* "There is a fluid continually escaping from the
human body," and "forming an atmosphere around us," which, as "it
has no determined current," produces no sensible effects on
surrounding individuals. It is, however, "capable of being
directed by the will;" and, when so directed, "is sent forth in
currents," with a force corresponding to the energy we possess.
Its motion is "similar to that of the rays from burning bodies;"
"it possesses different qualities in different individuals." It is
capable of a high degree of concentration, "and exists also in
trees." The will of the magnetiser, "guided by a motion of the
hand, several times repeated in the same direction," can fill a
tree with this fluid. Most persons, when this fluid is poured into
them, from the body and by the will of the magnetiser, "feel a
sensation of heat or cold" when he passes his hand before them,
without even touching them. Some persons, when sufficiently
charged with this fluid, fall into a state of somnambulism, or
magnetic ecstasy; and, when in this state, "they see the fluid
encircling the magnetiser like a halo of light, and issuing in
luminous streams from his mouth and nostrils, his head, and hands;
possessing a very agreeable smell, and communicating a particular
taste to food and water."

One would think that these "notions" were quite enough to be
insisted upon by any physician who wished to be considered sane;
but they only form a small portion of the wondrous things related
by M. Deleuze. He further said, "When magnetism produces
somnambulism, the person who is in this state acquires a
prodigious extension of all his faculties. Several of his external
organs, especially those of sight and hearing, become inactive;
but the sensations which depend upon them take place internally.
Seeing and hearing are carried on by the magnetic fluid, which
transmits the impressions immediately, and without the
intervention of any nerves or organs directly to the brain. Thus
the somnambulist, though his eyes and ears are closed, not only
sees and hears, but sees and hears much better than he does when
awake. In all things he feels the will of the magnetiser, although
that will be not expressed. He sees into the interior of his own
body, and the most secret organization of the bodies of all those
who may be put en rapport, or in magnetic connexion, with him.
Most commonly, he only sees those parts which are diseased and
disordered, and intuitively prescribes a remedy for them. He has
prophetic visions and sensations, which are generally true, but
sometimes erroneous. He expresses himself with astonishing
eloquence and facility. He is not free from vanity. He becomes a
more perfect being of his own accord for a certain time, if guided
wisely by the magnetiser, but wanders if he is ill-directed."

According to M. Deleuze, any person could become a magnetiser and
produce these effects, by conforming to the following conditions,
and acting upon the following rules:

"Forget for a while all your knowledge of physics and metaphysics.

"Remove from your mind all objections that may occur.

"Imagine that it is in your power to take the malady in hand, and
throw it on one side.

"Never reason for six weeks after you have commenced the study.

"Have an active desire to do good; a firm belief in the power of
magnetism, and an entire confidence in employing it. In short,
repel all doubts; desire success, and act with simplicity and
attention."

That is to say, "be very credulous; be very persevering; reject
all past experience, and do not listen to reason," and you are a
magnetiser after M. Deleuze's own heart.

Having brought yourself into this edifying state of fanaticism,
"remove from the patient all persons who might be troublesome to
you; keep with you only the necessary witnesses—a single person,
if need be; desire them not to occupy themselves in any way with
the processes you employ and the effects which result from them,
but to join with you in the desire of doing good to your patient.
Arrange yourself so as neither to be too hot nor too cold, and in
such a manner that nothing may obstruct the freedom of your
motions; and take precautions to prevent interruption during the
sitting. Make your patient then sit as commodiously as possible,
and place yourself opposite to him, on a seat a little more
elevated, in such a manner that his knees may be betwixt yours,
and your feet at the side of his. First, request him to resign
himself; to think of nothing; not to perplex himself by examining
the effects which may be produced; to banish all fear; to
surrender himself to hope, and not to be disturbed or discouraged
if the action of magnetism should cause in him momentary pains.
After having collected yourself, take his thumbs between your
fingers in such a way that the internal part of your thumbs may be
in contact with the internal part of his, and then fix your eyes
upon him! You must remain from two to five minutes in this
situation, or until you feel an equal heat between your thumbs and
his. This done, you will withdraw your hands, removing them to the
right and left; and at the same time turning them till their
internal surface be outwards, and you will raise them to the
height of the head. You will now place them upon the two
shoulders, and let them remain there about a minute; afterwards
drawing them gently along the arms to the extremities of the
fingers, touching very slightly as you go. You will renew this
pass five or six times, always turning your hands, and removing
them a little from the body before you lift them. You will then
place them above the head; and, after holding them there for an
instant, lower them, passing them before the face, at the distance
of one or two inches, down to the pit of the stomach. There you
will stop them two minutes also, putting your thumbs upon the pit
of the stomach and the rest of your fingers below the ribs. You
will then descend slowly along the body to the knees, or rather,
if you can do so without deranging yourself, to the extremity of
the feet. You will repeat the same processes several times during
the remainder of the sitting. You will also occasionally approach
your patient, so as to place your hands behind his shoulders, in
order to descend slowly along the spine of the back and the
thighs, down to the knees or the feet. After the first passes, you
may dispense with putting your hands upon the head, and may make
the subsequent passes upon the arms, beginning at the shoulders,
and upon the body, beginning at the stomach."

Such was the process of magnetising recommended by Deleuze. That
delicate, fanciful, and nervous women, when subjected to it,
should have worked themselves into convulsions will be readily
believed by the sturdiest opponent of animal magnetism. To sit in
a constrained posture—be stared out of countenance by a fellow who
enclosed her knees between his, while he made passes upon
different parts of her body, was quite enough to throw any weak
woman into a fit, especially if she were predisposed to hysteria,
and believed in the efficacy of the treatment. It is just as
evident that those of stronger minds and healthier bodies should
be sent to sleep by the process. That these effects have been
produced by these means there are thousands of instances to shew.
But are they testimony in favour of animal magnetism?—do they
prove the existence of the magnetic fluid? It needs neither
magnetism, nor ghost from the grave, to tell us that silence,
monotony, and long recumbency in one position, must produce sleep;
or that excitement, imitation, and a strong imagination, acting
upon a weak body, will bring on convulsions.

M. Deleuze's book produced quite a sensation in France; the study
was resumed with redoubled vigour. In the following year, a
journal was established devoted exclusively to the science, under
the title of Annales du Magnétisme Animal; and shortly afterwards
appeared the Bibliothèque du Magnétisme Animal, and many others.
About the same time, the Abbé Faria, "the man of wonders," began
to magnetise; and the belief being that he had more of the
mesmeric fluid about him, and a stronger will, than most men, he
was very successful in his treatment. His experiments afford a
convincing proof that imagination can operate all, and the
supposed fluid none, of the resuits so confidently claimed as
evidence of the new science. He placed his patients in an
arm-chair; told them to shut their eyes; and then, in a loud
commanding voice, pronounced the single word, "Sleep!" He used no
manipulations whatever—had no baquet, or conductor of the fluid;
but he nevertheless succeeded in causing sleep in hundreds of
patients. He boasted of having in his time produced five thousand
somnambulists by this method. It was often necessary to repeat the
command three or four times; and if the patient still remained
awake, the abbé got out of the difficulty by dismissing him from
the chair, and declaring that he was incapable of being acted on.
And it should be remarked that the magnetisers do not lay claim to
a universal efficacy for their fluid; the strong and the healthy
cannot be magnetised; the incredulous cannot be magnetised; those
who reason upon it cannot be magnetised; those who firmly believe
in it can be magnetised; the weak in body can be magnetised, and
the weak in mind can be magnetised. And lest, from some cause or
other, individuals of the latter classes should resist the
magnetic charm, the apostles of the science declare that there are
times when even they cannot be acted upon; the presence of one
scorner or unbeliever may weaken the potency of the fluid and
destroy its efficacy. In M. Deleuze's instructions to a
magnetiser, he expressly says, "Never magnetise before inquisitive
persons!"65*

Here we conclude the subject, as it would serve no good purpose to
extend to greater length the history of Animal Magnetism;
especially at a time when many phenomena, the reality of which it
is impossible to dispute, are daily occurring to startle and
perplex the most learned, impartial, and truth-loving of mankind.
Enough, however, has been stated to shew, that if there be some
truth in magnetism, there has been much error, misconception, and
exaggeration. Taking its history from the commencement, it can
hardly be said to have been without its uses. To quote the words
of Bailly, in 1784, "Magnetism has not been altogether unavailing
to the philosophy which condemns it: it is an additional fact to
record among the errors of the human mind, and a great experiment
on the strength of the imagination." Over that vast inquiry of the
influence of mind over matter,—an inquiry which the embodied
intellect of mankind will never be able to fathom completely,—it
will at least have thrown a feeble and imperfect light. It will
have afforded an additional proof of the strength of the
unconquerable will, and the weakness of matter as compared with
it; another illustration of the words of the inspired Psalmist,
that "we are fearfully and wonderfully made."