_downwards_, he would feel
intolerable pain.[66]

[66] Reginald Scott, quoted by Sir Walter Scott, in the notes to
the _Lay of the last Minstrel_, c. iii. v. xxiii.

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