Primitive Psycho-Therapy and Quackery Part 8

[81:1] Pettigrew, _op. cit._, p. 132.

[82:1] John Morgan Richards, _A Chronology of Medicine_.

[83:1] Lord Macaulay, _The History of England_, vol. iii, p. 379.

[85:1] Thomas Joseph Pettigrew, _Medical Superst.i.tions_.

[86:1] _The Lancet_, vol. ii, 1901.

[88:1] _Once a Week_, vol. xv (1866), p. 219.

[88:2] E. Cobham Brewer, _A Dictionary of Miracles_.

[89:1] _Common-sense_, August 13, 1737.

[91:1] Hon. Daines Barrington, _Observations upon the Statutes_, 1766.

CHAPTER VII

THE BLUE-GLa.s.s MANIA

As ill.u.s.trative of the power of the imagination, the so-called blue-gla.s.s mania, which prevailed extensively in this country, affords a striking example. About the year 1868, General Augustus J. Pleasanton, of Philadelphia, made some experiments to determine whether or not rays of sunlight pa.s.sing through colored gla.s.s had any therapeutic effect on animals and plants. His selection of blue gla.s.s as a medium was probably based upon the theory that the blue ray of the solar spectrum possesses superior actinic or chemical properties.

Experimenting first on plants, he adopted the method of inserting panes of blue and violet gla.s.s in the roof of his grapery, and noticed as a result an apparent extraordinary rapidity and luxuriance of growth of the vines, and later a correspondingly large harvest of grapes.

Encouraged by this success, he built a piggery, having a gla.s.s roof, of which one portion was fitted with panes of blue gla.s.s, and the other with ordinary transparent gla.s.s. It was claimed that the pigs kept under the former developed more rapidly than those under the latter. An Alderney bull-calf, which was very small and feeble at birth, was placed in a pen under violet gla.s.s. In twenty-four hours it was able to walk and became quite animated. By the same method a mule was reported to have been cured of obstinate rheumatism and deafness. Again, a canary-bird, which had been an exceptionally fine warbler, declined to eat or sing, and appeared to be in a feeble state of health. The bird in its cage was placed in the bath-room of its owner's dwelling, the windows of which contained colored-gla.s.s panes. It was alleged that the little creature speedily improved; its voice became sweeter and more melodious than ever, while its appet.i.te was simply voracious.

Notable cures of human beings were also reported. Cases of neuralgia and rheumatism were said to have been benefited, the development of young infants vastly promoted, while as a tonic for producing hair on bald heads, blue gla.s.s was a veritable specific. During the year 1877 popular interest in the craze reached its culmination. In this country the furore a.s.sumed national proportions. Peddlers went from door to door in the cities, selling blue gla.s.s, and did a thriving business; while many instances of remarkable cures effected by the new panacea were recorded in the newspapers. Then after a time came the reaction; the whole theory became a subject for ridicule and satire, and the public mind was ready to turn its attention to some other fad.

But in spite of the fickleness of the popular mind, this well-known fact remains, that a good sun-bath, with or without the medium of colored gla.s.s, is often of great hygienic value. There is truth in the Italian proverb: _Dove non va il sole, va il medico_: where the sunlight enters not, there goes the physician.

I have thus attempted briefly to describe the blue-gla.s.s mania, because it seems aptly to ill.u.s.trate the healing force of the imagination. So long as people have confidence in blue gla.s.s and sunlight combined, to cure fleshly ills, these agents undoubtedly act in many cases "like a charm," and may be cla.s.sed as mental curatives.

In recent years, however, efforts have been made to determine whether certain colored rays of the spectrum were more potent than others therapeutically. Under the caption "Light-Cures, Old and New," in "Everybody's Magazine," October, 1902, Arthur E. Bostwick, Ph.D., remarks that there was a germ of truth in the blue-gla.s.s craze, for it has recently been shown that the red rays are injuriously stimulative in eruptive diseases, and of course the blue gla.s.s strained these rays out.

It goes without saying that if there were simply health-giving qualities in the blue rays and no injurious ones in the red and yellow, ordinary light would be as effective as that which had pa.s.sed through blue gla.s.s; for the gla.s.s introduces no new quality or color into the light; it only absorbs certain rays of the spectrum, allowing others to pa.s.s. If blue light, therefore, is more healthful than white, it must be because the remainder of the spectrum has an injurious effect.

An Austrian physician, Dr. Kaiser, has recently a.s.serted, in a paper read before the Vienna Medical Society, that blue light is effective in reducing inflammation, allaying pain, and curing skin-disease, especially by promoting absorption of morbid humors. He a.s.serts that a beam from a powerful lantern, after pa.s.sing through blue gla.s.s, will kill cultures of various bacilli, when directed upon them at a distance of fifteen feet for half an hour daily during six days.

CHAPTER VIII

THE TEMPLES OF ESCULAPIUS

It has been truly said that temples were the first hospitals, and priests the earliest physicians.[97:1] In the temples of Esculapius, in Greece, a main object of the various mystic rites was to exert a powerful influence on the patient's imagination. This was supplemented by practical therapeutic and hygienic treatment, such as baths, friction of the skin, and a strict diet. These primitive sanatoria were built in places carefully chosen for their salubrity of climate and healthful environment. Doubtless their founders were actuated by a belief that Esculapius was ever ready to help those who first helped themselves. In view, therefore, of the superior hygienic conditions, together with intelligent medical care, it is not surprising that seemingly marvellous cures should result, especially of impressionable persons affected with nervous disorders.

The walls of those temples were adorned with bas-reliefs, of which specimens have been preserved. One of these represents a rec.u.mbent patient, and a physician seated by the bedside. Near by stands a tall, erect personage, supposed to be the G.o.d of health, while the figures of two suppliants may be seen approaching him.[98:1] When a patient arrived at the gate of the temple, he was not allowed to enter at once; for strict cleanliness was deemed a prerequisite for admission to the G.o.d's presence. And in order to place him in this desirable condition with the greatest possible despatch, he was plunged into cold water, after which he was permitted to enter the sacred precincts. According to a poetic fancy of the Grecian pilgrim in search of health, the proper cure for his ailment would be revealed by the G.o.d of healing to his wors.h.i.+pper in the latter's dreams.[98:2] The interpretation of these dreams and the revelation to the patient of their alleged meaning was entrusted to a priest, who served as an intermediary between Esculapius and the patient. Several of these oracular prescriptions, inscribed upon a marble slab, were found on the site of an Esculapian temple near Rome.

Translations of two of them may serve as examples:

"Lucius, having a pleurisy, and being given over by everybody, received from the G.o.d this oracle, that he should come and take the ashes off his altar, and mixing them with wine, apply them to his side. Which done, he was cured, and returned thanks to the G.o.d, and the people congratulated him upon his happy recovery."

"The G.o.d gave this oracle to a blind soldier, named Valerius Aper, that he should mingle the blood of a white c.o.c.k with honey, and make a collyrium, which he should put upon his eyes three days together. After which he saw, and came publicly to return thanks."[99:1]

Although usually regarded as a purely mythological being, Esculapius is believed by some writers to have been an historic personage. According to tradition, he transmitted his professional knowledge to his descendants, the Asclepiadae, a priestly caste, versed in medical lore.

For centuries the most famous Grecian physicians were members of this order; and the great Hippocrates, styled "the Father of Medicine," is said to have claimed to be the seventeenth in direct descent from Esculapius.[99:2] Although the G.o.d of healing may be said to have been also the first practising physician, his distinguished teacher Chiron, the wise Centaur, was without doubt the first medical professor whose name has been handed down. To Chiron is usually ascribed the honor of having introduced among the Grecians the art of Medicine, in the thirteenth century B. C. He was reputed to have been a learned chief or prince of Thessaly, who was also a pioneer among equestrians, one who preferred horseback as a means of locomotion, rather than the chariot, or other prototype of the chaise, buggy, automobile, or bicycle. Hence the superst.i.tion of that rude age gave him a place among the Centaurs.

He is reported moreover to have imparted instruction to the Argonauts, and to the warriors who partic.i.p.ated in the siege of Troy. From this hero is derived the name of the plant centaury, owing to a legend of its having been used with success as a healing application to a wound in Chiron's foot.

The wors.h.i.+p of Esculapius, as the G.o.d of healing, was widespread among the Greeks, and lasted even into Christian times. Patients repaired to the temples, just as relief is sought to-day by a devotional pilgrimage, or by a resort to a sacred spring. The records of cures were inscribed upon the columns or walls of the temple, and thus is believed to have originated the custom of recording medical and surgical cases.[100:1]

The priests exerted a powerful influence upon the minds of applicants by reciting wonderful tales, as they led them through the sacred precincts, explaining in mystical language the miraculous cures which had been performed there, and calling attention to the numerous votive offerings and inscriptions upon the temple walls. It may readily be conceived, wrote Richard J. Dunglison, M.D.,[100:2] that these procedures made a deep impression upon the patients' minds, and the more so, because the priests were wont to dwell especially upon the cures which had been effected in a.n.a.logous cases.

Moreover hydro-therapy was supplemented by ma.s.sage, which often had beneficial results in nervous affections; and fumigation of the patients, before they received advice from the oracle, lent an air of mystery. Those who were cured returned to express their grat.i.tude and to offer presents to the G.o.d, as well as to the priests. They usually also brought some ornament for the adornment of the temple.

The act of sleeping in a sanctuary, in order to obtain medical relief, either through revelations by dreams, or through a divine visitation, was termed _incubation_.

According to the philosophy of oneiromancy, or the art of taking omens from dreams, during sleep the soul was released from the body, and thus enabled to soar into spiritual regions and commune with celestial beings. Therefore memories of ideas suggested in dreams were cherished as divine revelations.[101:1]

The opinion has been advanced that the methods employed to procure "temple sleep" were similar to those in use at the present time for the production of the hypnotic state. A cure was effected by awakening a healing instinct in the patient's subconscious mind.[101:2]

So far as we are aware, no authentic rational explanation has been given of the phenomenal appearance of a G.o.d in the patient's presence.

It seems plausible that Asklepios, the Grecian Esculapius, was personated by some priest of majestic mien, who gave oracular medical advice, which serves as a powerful therapeutic suggestion. Various attendant circ.u.mstances doubtless contributed to impress the patient's highly wrought imagination, such as the dim light, the sense of mystery, and, it may be, certain tricks of ventriloquism.

In the earliest days of temple-sleep, that is, probably about the seventh century B. C., this mode of treatment was practised without a tinge of superst.i.tion, the applicants' faith being deep and sincere. For in that era the belief was general that human art was powerless to cure disease, and the G.o.ds alone could furnish aid. Temple-sleep, wrote Dr.

Hugo Magnus, was not degraded into superst.i.tion until the physicians had come to the conclusion that the phenomena of disease were not evidence of divine displeasure, but that they were due to natural causes. When therefore this new belief became established, temple-sleep degenerated into a superst.i.tious rite. As early as the fifth century B. C., the celebrated poet, Aristophanes, in his comedy, "Plutus," severely criticized this ceremony, as practised in his time. And, although the more enlightened among the Greeks came to regard it with disfavor, the custom was never entirely abandoned by the ancient world.

Having bathed Plutus in the sea, says the servant Cario, we went to the temple of Esculapius; and when our wafers and preparatory sacrifices were offered on the altar, and our cakes on the flame of Vulcan, we laid him on a couch, as was proper, and made ready our own mattresses. When the priest had extinguished the lights, he told us to go to sleep, adding that if any of us heard the hissing we should by no means stir. We therefore all remained in bed, and made no noise. As for myself, I could not sleep, on account of the odor of a basin of savory porridge which an old woman had at the side of her bed, and which I longed for amazingly. Being, therefore, anxious to creep near it, I raised my head and saw the sacristan take the cakes and dried figs from the sacred table, and going the round of the altars, put all that he could find into a bag. It occurred to me that it would be meritorious in me to follow his example, so I arose to secure the basin of porridge, fearing only that the priest might get at it before me, with his garlands on. . . . The old woman, on hearing me, stretched forth her hand. But I hissed, and seized her fingers with my teeth, as if I were an Esculapian snake; then, drawing back her hand again, she lay down and wrapped herself up quickly, while I swallowed the porridge, and, when full, retired to rest.

The surprising cures frequently effected were inexplicable, even to the scientific minds of antiquity.

Victor Duruy, in his "History of Rome,"[103:1] relates the following instance, on the authority of the Greek writer aelian. A man named Euphronios, who had been an ardent follower of Epicurus, suffered from some obstinate affection which his physicians failed to cure. His relatives therefore carried him into a neighboring Esculapian temple, where in the night, during sleep, he heard the voice of an oracle, saying, "In the case of this man, there is only one means of restoration, namely, to burn the hooks of Epicurus, to knead these sacrilegious ashes with wax, and to cover the stomach and chest with the compound." These directions were carried out, and Euphronios was promptly cured and converted.

FOOTNOTES:

[97:1] J. B. Thiers, _Traite des Superst.i.tions_, p. 385.

[98:1] _Archives generales de Medecine_, November, 1891, pp. 582 _et seq._

[98:2] Frank Granger, _The Wors.h.i.+p of the Romans_, p. 158.

[99:1] Daniel Le Clerc, _The History of Physic_, p. 84.

[99:2] Le Clerc, p. 109.