Mystic London; or, Phases of occult life in the metropolisDavies, Charles Maurice
History
Mystic London; or, Phases of occult life in the metropolis
Davies, Charles Maurice
London (England) -- Description and travel; London (England) -- Social life and customs -- 19th century; Occultism
A working woman who was next in the little row of patients assembled in
the back room, came in with her wrists bound up in bits of flannel, and
her hands looking puffed and glazy. She, too, had lost the use of them
for six years, she told me, and had been pronounced incurable by the
doctors. This was her fourth visit to Mr. Ashman. "Take up the chair,
ma'am," he said to his patient; and she did carry it in rather a wobbly
fashion across the room. "Now the other hand," and she did it with the
other hand. "Now show the gentleman how you did it when you came to me.
She's rather hard o' hearin'," he explained to me; but after one or two
repetitions the poor old body comprehended, and carried it in her
crooked elbow. "Now I'll call my assistant," he said, and summoned a
ruddy, red-bearded man, who looked as though he might have just come in
from a brisk country walk. "When these cases require a good deal of
rubbing I let my assistants do the preliminary work, and then come in as
the Healing Medium myself." The rubbers, he informed me, like the
Medium, must be qualified, not only physically, but morally. Benevolence
was the great requisite; and certainly both these men seemed running
over with it, if looks meant anything. When Joseph Ashman took his turn,
working the poor old patient's stiff wrists, and pulling her fingers
till they cracked, like children playing "sweethearts," she never
winced, but actually seemed to like it, and trotted off well satisfied
with her fourth instalment of good health.
The next rubber who was introduced to me was not such a ruddy man,
being, in fact, somewhat saturnine in appearance; but I could quite
understand that he was, as he described himself, brimful of electricity.
His chevelure was like that on the little man we stick on the conductor
of an electrical machine and make each particular hair stand on end like
quills upon the fretful porcupine.
I could not for the life of me see the difference between this treatment
and simple mesmerism, except that it was much more rapid in its effects
than any magnetic treatment I have ever witnessed. Indeed, I frankly
confess I do not understand it now, though Mr. Ashman made me accept one
of his little books on Psychopathic healing, and told me I should see
the distinction when I had read it. I must be very dense, for I have
read it diligently through, and still fail to trace the distinction.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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