The International Monthly Magazine Volume V to No II

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We might here, without any stretch of imagination, suppose we are reading
a commentary on the birth and character of Joan of Arc, or of any of the
prophetesses of the Swiss Anabaptists. But to return to the possessions
recorded by Calmeil.

The biological relations alleged by the mesmerists appear in still
stronger development in the case of the nuns of Auxonne in 1662. The
Bishop of Chalons reports, speaking of the possessed, "that all the
aforesaid young women, being in number eighteen, as well seculars as
regulars, and without a single exception, appeared to him to have obtained
the gift of tongues, inasmuch as they accurately replied to the matters in
Latin, which were addressed to them by their exorcists, and which were not
borrowed from the ritual, still less arranged by any preconcert; they
frequently explained themselves in Latin--sometimes in entire periods,
sometimes in broken sentences;" "that all or almost all of them were
proved to have introvision (_cognizance de l'interieur_) and knowledge of
whatever thought might be secretly addressed to them, as appeared
particularly in the case of the internal commands which were often
addressed to them by the exorcists, and which in general they obeyed
implicitly, although without any external signification of the command,
either verbal or by way of sign; as the said Lord Bishop experienced in
many instances, among others, in that of Denise Parisot, whom the exorcist
having commanded, in the depths of his own mind, to come to him for the
purpose of being exorcised, she came incontinently, though dwelling in a
remote part of the town; telling the Lord Bishop that she had received his
commands and was come accordingly; and this she did on several occasions;
likewise in the person of Sister Jamin, a novice, who, on recovering from
her fit, told him the internal commandment which he had given to her demon
during the exorcism; also in the case of the Sister Borthon, to whom
having issued a mental commandment in one of her paroxysms to come and
prostrate herself before the Holy Sacrament, with her face to the ground
and her arms stretched forward, she executed his command at the very
instant that he willed it, with a promptitude and precipitation altogether
wonderful."

Sister Denise Parisot, one of those who exhibited these singularities,
also displayed a farther and very remarkable manifestation of what would
now be called biological influence. "Being commanded by his Lordship to
make the pulse of her right arm entirely cease beating while that of the
left continued, and then to transfer the pulsation so as to beat in the
right arm while it should stop in the left, she executed his orders with
the utmost precision in the presence of the physician (Morel), who
admitted and deposed to the fact, and of several ecclesiastics. Sister de
la Purification did the same thing two or three times, causing her pulse
to beat or to stop at the command of the exorcist."

Instead of exorcist we may, without much apprehension of offending either
the reason or the belief of any candid person, read "Mesmerist." The
passes seem similar, the phenomena identical. Again, in the case of the
girls of the parish of Landes, near Bayeux, in 1732, the orders given by
the exorcists in Latin appeared to be well understood by the patients. "In
general," says Calmeil, quoting the contemporaneous account of their
possession, "during the ecstatic access, the sense of touch was not
excited even by the application of fire; nevertheless the exorcists affirm
that their patients yielded immediate attention to the thoughts which they
(the exorcists) refrained from expressing, and that they described with
exactness the interior of distant houses which they had never before
seen."

This long and varied survey of different forms of physical and mental
malady brings us to a point where we may, with some confidence, take our
stand on inductive conclusions. It seems evident, then, that all the
phenomena of animal magnetism have been from an early period known to
mankind under the various forms of divinatory ecstasy, demonopathy or
witchmania, theomania, or fanatical religious excitation, spontaneous
catalepsy, and somnambulism. That, in addition to the ordinary
manifestations of insensibility to pain, rigidity, and what is called
clairvoyance, the patients affected with the more intense conditions of
the malady have at all times exhibited a marvellous command of languages;
a seeming participation in the thoughts, sensations, and impulses of
others; a power of resisting, for some short time at least, the action of
fire; and, perhaps, a capacity of evolving some hitherto unknown energy
counteractive of the force of gravitation. That the condition of mind and
body in question can be induced by means addressed to each and all of the
senses, as well as involuntarily by way of sympathy or contagion. That the
fixing of the eyes on a particular point, as a wafer, or the umbilicus, or
on a polished ball or mirror, is one of the most general and efficacious
means of artificially inducing the condition of clairvoyance. That it may
also, on those prepared for its reception by strong mental excitement, be
induced by tumultuous music, as by the sound of drums and cymbals, by
odors, and, perhaps, by unguents; and that the same condition also
frequently supervenes on long-continued and intense emotion, as well as on
those hysterical and convulsive movements of the body which sometimes
attend on excessive religious excitation. That, induced by the latter
means, clairvoyance has a tendency to become contagious, and has often
afflicted whole communities with the most dangerous and deplorable
epidemic hallucinations, as in the fancied witch-sabbaths of the
domonomaniacs, and prowling excursions of lycanthropes and vampyres; but
that, although in these demotic frenzies, the prevailing ideas and images
presented to the minds of the sufferers are merely illusory, they possess
the capacity of being put in such a relation with ideas and images derived
from actual existence in the mind of others, as to perceive and
appropriate them. Beyond this it would be difficult to advance our
speculation with any degree of certainty; but if speculation may be at all
indulged in such a question, it might, perhaps, be allowed to a sanguine
speculator to surmise that, possibly, the mind in that state may be put
_en rapport_ with not only the ideas and emotions of another particular
mind, but with the whole of the external world, and with all its minds.
Another step would carry us to that participation in the whole scheme of
nature, pretended to by divinators and seers; but it must be owned that,
in the present state of the evidences, there is no solid ground on which
to rest the foot of conjecture in taking either the one step or the other.

In the mean time, many practitioners are playing with an agency, the
dangerous character of which they little suspect. In ancient exorcisms, it
sometimes happened that the exorcist himself became the involuntary
recipient of the contagious frenzy of the patient. If such an event
happened now, it would not be more wonderful than when it befel the Pere
Surin, at Loudon, in 1635, as he has himself described his disaster in his
letter to the Jesuit Attichi: "For three months and a half I have never
been without a devil in full exercise within me. While I was engaged in
the performance of my ministry, the devil passed out of the body of the
possessed, and coming into mine, assaulted me and cast me down, shook me,
and traversed me to and fro, for several hours. I cannot tell you what
passed within me during that time, and how that spirit united itself with
mine, leaving no liberty either of sensation or of thought, but acting in
me like another self, or as if I possessed two souls; these two souls
making, as it were, a battle ground of my body. When I sought, at the
instigation of the one, to make the sign of the cross on my mouth, the
other suddenly would turn round my hand and seize the fingers with my
teeth, making me bite myself with rage. When I sought to speak, the word
would be taken out of my mouth; at mass I would be stopped short; at table
I could not carry the food to my mouth; at confession I forgot my sins; in
fine, I felt the devil go and come within me as if he used me for his
daily dwelling-house."

Or, if instead of passing into a single operator, as in the case of Surin,
the diseased contagion should suddenly expand itself among a crowd of
bystanders, there would be nothing to wonder at, although enough to
deplore, in such a catastrophe. It would be no more than has already
happened in all the epidemics of lycanthropy and witchmania, of the
dancers of St. Vitas, of the Jumpers, Quakers, and Revivalists, of the
Mewers, Barkers, and Convulsionnaires. The absence of religious
pretensions among the operators seems as yet to be the chief guarantee
against such results. If instead of being made rigid and lucid by the
manipulations of a professor, the patients should find themselves cast
into that state by contact with the tomb of a preacher, or with the
reliques of a saint, society would soon be revisited with all the evils of
_pseudo_-miracles and supposed demoniacal possessions. The comparatively
innocent frenzy of the followers of Father Mathew, was the nearest
approach to a social disturbance of that kind that our country has been
visited by since the barking epidemic of the fourteenth century. "In the
county of Leicester, a person travelling along the road," says Camden,
"found a pair of gloves, fit for his hands, as he thought; but when he put
them on, he lost his speech immediately, and could do nothing but bark
like a dog; nay, from that moment, the men and women, old and young,
throughout the whole country, barked like dogs, and the children like
whelps. This plague continued, with some eighteen days, with others a
month, and with some for two years; and, like a contagious distemper, at
last infected the neighboring counties, and set them a barking too."

If mesmerism did no more than demonstrate, as it has done, that all the
supposed evidences of modern inspiration, as well as of modern demoniacal
possession and ghost-craft, are but the manifestations of a physical
disorder, capable of being induced by ordinary agencies, it would have
done a great service to the cause of social and religious stability. In
addition to this, it has furnished surgery with a new narcotic, perhaps
with a new anti-spasmodic. It is not impossible that here, at length, a
means may have been found for combating the horrors of hydrophobia. Its
higher pretensions of clairvoyance and provision, if not proved, are at
least not yet satisfactorily disproved. Its admitted usefulness may,
perhaps, counterbalance its perils; but in every exercise of it, whether
curative or speculative, it is never to be forgotten, that the phenomena
are those of disease, and that the production of disease, save for the
counteraction of other maladies more hurtful, is in itself an evil.

S. F.

A CHAPTER OF EPITAPHS.

From Sharp's Magazine.

By F. Lawrence.

The best epitaphs, according to our notion, are generally the shortest and
the plainest. In no description of composition is elaborate and ornate
phraseology so much out of place. Where a world-wide reputation has been
achieved, the name alone, with the addition perhaps of a date, is often
calculated to produce a more impressive effect than an ostentatious
inscription. It has been observed that the simple words--

CATHERINE THE GREAT TO PETER THE FIRST,

inscribed on the monument erected by the Empress Catherine to the memory
of her husband, arrogant as they are, contain the essence of the sublime.
And, in like manner, among the most impressive memorials in Westminster
Abbey are the words, "O rare Ben Jonson," chiselled beneath the great
play-wright's bust, and the name of J. DRYDEN, with the date of his birth
and death, and the simple statement, that the tomb was erected, in 1720,
by John Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham. We doubt whether the effect of the
latter would have been improved by the addition of the couplet written for
it by Pope, admirable as it is:

This Sheffield raised: the sacred dust below
Was Dryden once--the rest who does not know?

Among the best epitaphs in the Poet's Corner, we are inclined to number
that on Spenser, which combines in an eminent degree dignity and
simplicity, and possesses a character which at once attracts attention.
The monument on which it appears had been originally erected by Anne,
Countess of Dorset, and having fallen into decay, was restored, in 1768,
precisely in its old form:

Heare lyes (expecting the second
Comminge of our Savior CHRIST
JESUS) the body of Edmond Spencer,
The Prince of Poets in his tyme,
Other witnesse than the works
Which he left behinde him.
He was borne in London in the yeare 1553,
And died in the year 1598.

The epitaph of Michael Drayton, another of the Elizabethan poets, said by
some to be the composition of Ben Jonson, and by others to be by Quarles,
has also a species of quaint beauty and solemnity which raises it above
the ordinary level. It was originally in gilt letters:

MICHAEL DRAITON, Esq.

A memorable poet of this age,
Exchanged his laurell for a crowne of glorye,
Ao. 1631.

Doe, pious Marble! let thy readers knowe
What they and what their children owe
To DRAITON'S name, whose sacred dust
We recommend unto thy TRUST:
Protect his memory, and preserve his storye,
Remaine a lastinge monument of his glorye;
And when thy ruines shall disclaime
To be the treas'rer of his name,
His name that cannot fade shall be
An everlasting monument to thee.

We cannot say that the Latin compositions of this sort in Westminster
Abbey are much to our taste. One however, we cannot pass over--that to the
memory of Goldsmith, by Dr. Johnson--a scholar-like production, dictated by
affection, and full of grace and tenderness. In the delineation of the
personal and literary character of his friend, we recognize all the
grander traits of the honest giant's loving heart and powerful pen.
Nothing can be in better taste than his commendation of Goldsmith's
genius:

Affectuum _potens et lenis Dominator_;
Ingenio sublimis--vividus, versatilis,
Oratione grandis, nitidus, venustus--

Of the English epitaphs, one of the most remarkable for elegance and
simplicity is that on Purcell, the composer, reputed, on the authority of
Malone, to be by Dryden, It certainly is not unworthy of his pen:

Here lyes
HENRY PURCELL, Esq.
Who left this life,
And is gone to that blessed place
Where only his Harmony
Can be exceeded.
Obiit 21 die Novembris
Anno AEtatis suae 37
Annoque Domini 1695.

Among more modern inscriptions, those on the great engineers, Watt and
Telford, are particularly worthy of notice. The former is from the pen of
Lord Brougham:

Not to perpetuate a name,
Which must endure while the peaceful arts flourish,
But to show
That mankind have learned to know those
Who best deserve their gratitude,
The King,
His ministers, and many of the nobles
And commoners of the realm
Raised this monument to
JAMES WATT,
Who, directing the force of an original genius,
Early exercised in philosophic research,
To the improvement of the Steam Engine,
Enlarged the resources of his country,
Increased the power of man,
And rose to eminent place
Among the most illustrious followers of science,
And the real benefactors of the world.

The inscription on Telford's monument is equally chaste and beautiful. It
presents this noble summary of his life and character:

The orphan son of a shepherd, self-educated,
He raised himself,
By his extraordinary talents and integrity,
From the humble condition of an operative mason,
And became one of the
Most eminent Civil Engineers of the age.
This marble has been erected near the spot
Where his remains are deposited,
By the friends who revered his virtues,
But his noblest monuments are to be found amongst
The great public works of his country.

Every visitor will reverently pause before the magnificent cenotaph of the
great Earl of Chatham, which, though somewhat too confused and elaborate
in its decorations, is not unworthy of the greatest of English ministers.
Having achieved a higher reputation as a statesman and orator than any
other public man which his country had produced, and having fallen, as it
were, in her service, the national gratitude was displayed in an
unprecedented manner by honors paid his memory. His body lay in state
three days in the painted chamber in the House of Lords--his public funeral
exceeded in splendor the obsequies of princes--his debts were paid by the
nation--and finally, the stately tomb to which we have drawn attention, was
placed over his remains. The inscription whilst exceedingly plain and
simple, is impressive and appropriate:

Erected by the King and Parliament
As a testimonial to
The Virtues and Ability
of
WILLIAM PITT, EARL OF CHATHAM,
During whose administration, in the reigns of
George II. and George III.
Divine Providence
Exalted Great Britain
To a height of Prosperity and Glory
Unknown in any former age.

Of poetical epitaphs in the Abbey some of the most important are by Pope.
Like everything else from his pen, they are carefully written, but viewed
as monumental inscriptions, not distinguished for any striking excellence.
Among the best of them is that on the Honourable James Craggs, a secretary
of state, rather discreditably mixed up with the South Sea Bubble:--

Statesman, yet friend to truth! of soul sincere,
In action faithful, yet in honour clear!
Who broke no promise, served no private end,
Who gained no title, and who lost no friend;
Ennobled by Himself, by all approved,
Praised, wept, and honored by the Muse he loved.

The one on Gay is interesting as a tribute of friendship, and as a
faithful portrait of that pleasing and amiable poet, the simplicity of
whose character is admirably delineated in the first couplet:--

Of manners gentle, and affections mild,
_In wit a man, simplicity a child_.

Altogether it is a beautiful and appropriate composition, and we cannot
but regret that the monument on which it appears should be disfigured by
the doggerel, said to have been written by Gay himself, and inscribed on
the ledge just above Pope's epitaph;

Life is a jest, and all things show it;
I thought so once, but now I know it.

That of Nicholas Rowe, the dramatist (also by Pope), has been admired for
the pathos of the concluding lines, the beauty of which, however, it is a
matter of notoriety, was considerably marred by a prosaic circumstance,
which proves the danger of assuming facts even in poetical compositions.
The monument is commemorative of the poet and of his only daughter, the
wife of Henry Fane. His widow survived him, and her inconsolable
affliction was beautifully depicted:-

To these so mourned in death, so loved in life,
The childless parent and the widowed wife,
With tears inscribes this monumental stone,
That holds their ashes, _and expects her own_.

Almost, however, before "the monumental stone" was finished, the
disconsolate widow dried her eyes, and married a gallant colonel of
dragoons, without considering that she was spoiling the beauty of her
husband's epitaph.

Among the most flagrant instances of false taste, we must specify that on
the tomb of David Garrick. The tomb itself has been described as "a
theatrical conceit, of which the design exhibits neither taste nor
invention." The epitaph was the production of Pratt, author of Harvest
Home and other lucubrations which have long since been consigned to the
tomb of the Capulets; and both epitaph and monument are thus spoken of by
Charles Lamb in the _Essays of Elia_. Alluding principally to the
eccentric attitude of the actor's effigy, he observes, "Though I would not
go so far, with some good Catholics abroad, as to shut players altogether
out of consecrated ground, yet I own I was not a little scandalized at the
introduction of theatrical airs and gestures into a place set apart to
remind us of the saddest realities. Going nearer, I found inscribed under
this burlesque figure a farrago of false thought and nonsense." The
farrago in question is in verse, and represents Shakspeare and Garrick as
"twin stars," who as long as time shall last are to "irradiate earth with
a beam divine."

There are but few epitaphs in St. Paul's Cathedral--the other great
resting-place of illustrious dead--worthy of remark or reproduction. The
best in the whole edifice, and one of the most perfect compositions of its
kind, is the well-known inscription commemorative of its renowned
architect, Sir Christopher Wren:

Subditus conditur hujus Ecelesiae at Urbis
Conditor, CHRISTOPHERUS WREN, qui vixit
Annos ultra nonaginta, non sibi, sed
Bono publico. _Lector, si monumentum requiris,_
_Circumspice._

We need not point out the beauties of this celebrated epitaph:--its
terseness of phraseology (to which no translation could do justice)--its
suggestiveness, grandeur and dignity. Another Latin inscription in St.
Paul's is also deserving notice, both on account of its merit, and the
individual it commemorates--that on Dr. Samuel Johnson, written by the
famous Dr. Parr. Of English inscriptions in this Cathedral, the most
striking is that on the monument of John Howard. It concludes with the
well-known sentence: "He trod an open and unfrequented path,to
immortality, in the ardent and unremitting exercise of Christian charity.
May this tribute to his fame excite an emulation of his truly glorious
achievements."

It is no very easy matter to produce a good epitaph. Great practice in
composition is required--great power of condensation--and the exercise of
judgment and discrimination. In efforts at epitaph-writing, few English
poets have appeared to advantage. One or two perfect specimens, indeed, we
possess, but the success of a single writer must be set against the
failure of a great many. Of our good epitaphs, the very best, in our
opinion, is that on the Countess Dowager of Pembroke, the sister of Sir
Philip Sidney, by Ben Jonson. Although it has been often quoted, we cannot
exclude it from this paper:

Underneath this sable hearse
Lies the subject of all verse,
Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother:
Death, ere thou hast slain another,
Fair, and wise, and good as she,
Time shall throw his dart at thee.

Another of Jonson's epitaphs, although more rugged in versification, is
also deserving of quotation;

Underneath this stone doth lie
As much virtue as could die;
Which, when alive, did vigor give
To as much beauty as could live.
If she had a single fault,
Leave it buried in this vault.

Not a few of Pope's epitaphs, as we have before hinted, appear tame,
insipid, and characterized by a false taste. We except the well-known
couplet for the monument of Sir Isaac Newton, in which there are dignity
of language and boldness of conception:

Nature and nature's laws lay hid in night;--
God said, "Let Newton be!" and all was light.

David Garrick is the author of some very good and characteristic epitaphs.
The best, is that on Claudius Philips, the musician, who lived and died in
great poverty. It was some time ascribed to Dr. Johnson, but is now known
to be the production of Garrick:

Philips, whose touch harmonious could remove
The pangs of guilty power and hapless love,
Rest here, distress'd by poverty no more,
Here find that calm thou gav'st so oft before;
Sleep undisturbed within this peaceful shrine,
Till angels wake thee with a note like thine.

Another of Garnet's epitaphs, is that on Mr. Havard, the comedian, who
died in 1778. It is described by the author as a tribute "to the memory of
a character he long knew and respected." Whatever its merits as a
composition, the professional metaphor introduced is sadly out of place:

"An honest man's the noblest work of God."
Havard, from sorrow rest beneath this stone;
An honest man--beloved as soon as known;
Howe'er defective in the mimic art,
In real life he justly played his part!
The noblest character he acted well,
And heaven applauded when the curtain fell.

The one on William Hogarth, in Chiswick Churchyard, by Garrick, is in
better taste:

Farewell, great painter of mankind,
Who reach'd the noblest point of art;
Whose pictur'd morals charm the mind,
And through the eye correct the heart!
If genius fire thee, reader, stay;
If nature touch thee, drop a tear:-
If neither move thee, turn away,
For Hogarth's honor'd dust lies here.

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