cording
to the attestation of a pitying chronicler, until dead or restored to
health.

Unsound mind was universally accepted as a specific distinction of
diabolical power, and caused by the corporeal presence of an impure
spirit. Imbeciles and the insane were, throughout the Middle Ages,
especially conceded to be the abode of avenging and frenzied demons.
In aggravated cases, the actual presence of the medicinal saint was
necessary; in less vexatious maladies, the bare imposition of hands,
accompanied by plaintive prayer, quickly healed the diseased.[11]

As early as the fifth century before Christ, Hippocrates of Cos
asserted that madness was simply a disease of the brain, but
notwithstanding the reiteration of this scientific truth the church
repudiated it, and as late as the Reformation, Martin Luther
maintained that not only was insanity caused by diabolical influences,
but that "Satan produces all the maladies which afflict mankind." Even
much later, however, when other diseases were assigned a physical
origin, insanity was still thought to be demoniacal possession. As
late as Bossuet's time, lunacy was thought to be the work of demons.
The cultured and progressive Bishop of Meaux, while trying to throw
off the shackles of superstition, delivered and published two great
sermons in which demoniacal possession is defended. To show how the
idea has clung, notwithstanding the advancement and enlightenment of
late years, we may notice a trial which took place at Wemding, in
southern Germany, in 1892, of which White tells us.

"A boy had become hysterical, and the Capuchin Father
Aurelian tried to exorcise him, and charged a peasant's
wife, Frau Herz, with bewitching him, on evidence that
would have cost the woman her life at any time during
the seventeenth century. Thereupon the woman's husband
brought suit against Father Aurelian for slander. The
latter urged in his defence that the boy was possessed
of an evil spirit, if anybody ever was; that what had
been said and done was in accordance with the rules and
regulations of the Church, as laid down in decrees,
formulas, and rituals sanctioned by popes, councils,
and innumerable bishops during ages. All in vain. The
court condemned the good father to fine and
imprisonment."[12]

I cannot refrain from quoting in this connection the now famous
epitaph of Lord Westbury's, suggested by the decision given by him as
Lord Chance