[182] Obiit 1214. Query if not the same as Alphonsus above? [183] Warton's History of English Poetry, p. 133. Anciently there was great reputed sanative virtue in a seventh son; and he was looked upon as a heaven-born Doctor, and those his medical abilities were reverenced for that reason only by the common people. So far the Doctor would be safe, and might kill with impunity; but it was a crime to heal. Thus I have a case before me in the Reign of King Charles I. where a poor unfortunate man, who was the seventh son of a seventh son, and never killed any body (for he was a gardener, and not a physician), was severely treated, because he pretended to have in him the faculty of healing several disorders, and especially the King's Evil, by the Touch or stroking of his hand. This man was imprudent enough to depreciate the Royal Touch; otherwise, at that time, he might have obtained a comfortable subsistence from his credulous patients; but that unfortunate intrenchment on the Royal Prerogative drew down upon him the double vengeance of the Court of Star-Chamber, and of the College of Physicians; which last, in the most courtly manner, denounced him to be an impostor[184]. _Delenda est Carthago._ It was highly necessary for the reputation of the Royal pretensions that this man should be proscribed. [184] See the story at large in Granger, from Dr. Charles Goodall's Works. The next person who appears to have usurped this Gift was Mr. Valentine Greatrackes, a gentleman of Ireland, who first practised his art of healing by the Touch in his own country; and afterwards came into England, where, at first, he obtained great reputation, which fell off by degrees, so that there was no occasion for any violent measures to prevent his intrenching on the Royal Prerogative. This gentleman wrote an account of his several cures, in a Letter to the Honourable Robert Boyle, which was printed in 1668. Whether Mr. Boyle was a believer I know not; but it was at a time when the King practised, so that he might think it prudent to conceal his real sentiments. How far imagination will operate in such cases, as the old women, even of this age, contend it does in Agues, is a question not for me to discuss; but it tempts me to transcribe the following story, as given by Mr. Granger, vol. IV. p. 32.