meant simply the principle of the universe, the presence, truth and power of God, at the foundation of the human soul.
Dr. Quimby said, and his disciples have said after him, that he "never went into any trance," and was "a strong disbeliever in Spiritualism, as understood by that name." Pursuing this statement in detail, we find that his criticism of the subject consisted mostly in his denying the accuracy of information derived from clairvoyants and spirit-mediums. But, in the words of one of his most intimate friends, he considered our two states of physical and spiritual life as "only a difference in dissolving views," and he believed that his own thought and senses existed, a part of the time, out of matter, or in "the scientific world."[11] He even affirmed, in connection with his view of disease as an impression of mind, that, transferring himself into the spiritual state of existence, he had cured his own parents, after death, of ailments which had not left them when they departed from their physical condition. To this strange man, Dr. Quimby, the world of matter and the world of spirit were so interblended as to be only two phases of the same thing, both of which he constantly experienced.
"What," he asks, "is this body that we see?" It is "a tenement for man to occupy when he pleases. But, as a man knows not himself, he reasons as though he were one of the fixtures of his house, or body.... What is the true definition of death. Death is the name of an idea.... So the destruction of an idea is death." Man "is dying and living all the time to error, till he dies the death of all his opinions and beliefs. Therefore to be free from death is to be alive in truth." In no other way than this, would Dr. Quimby even recognize such a fact as death. When he came to die himself, he said "I am perfectly willing for the change.... But I know that I shall be right here with you, just the same as I have always been. I do not dread the change any more than if I were going on a trip to Philadelphia."
Dr. Quimby, then, in his own way, certainly did believe, accept and avow what is commonly understood as Spiritualism, but he repudiated its frequently doubtful accompaniments.
"I know [said he] just how much reliance can be placed on a medium; for when in the mesmeric state, they are governed by the superstition and beliefs of the person they are in communication with.... The capacity of thought-reading is the common extent of mesmerism. Clairvoyance is very rare.... This state is of very short duration. They then come into that state where they are governed by surrounding minds. All the mediums of this day reason about medicine as much as the regular physician. They believe in disease and recommend medicine."
Here we have it, exactly. Dr. Quimby did not believe in disease, except as "an error of mind," and did not recommend medicine. So, while he accepted spirit-condition, to the fullest extent, he refused to accept information from it at second hand. He held that, because a man had "passed over to the other side," as the Spiritualists say, he was not necessarily any wiser than he had been in "mind reduced to a state called matter."
"The invisible world [said he] opens all the avenues of matter, through which to give the inhabitants communications; but the natural man has possession of the mediums, so that the scientific man is misrepresented in nine-tenths of all he says. Now to be in the scientific world is not necessarily to be wise, but to acknowledge a wisdom above the natural man, which will enter the world where wisdom sees through matter. This is the condition of those persons who are thrown into a clairvoyant state. To them, matter is nothing but an idea, that is seen or not, just as it is called out. All their senses are in this state, but are under the control of the natural man.... The explanation of the scientific world is given by these blind guides ... who cannot understand science."
From this last quotation, we can see precisely how Dr. Quimby at once accepted and rejected Spiritualism; and we can see, as well, how he reached the posture of rational idealism. As far as concerned his powers or gifts, the good man was what would now be called a "mesmerist," a "clairvoyant," and a "healing medium"—only he was of so sensitive a spiritual nature that he could exercise these faculties "in his senses," or in what, to him, was "a perfectly normal state." If, to his own direct vision and experience, "matter" was "nothing but an idea," to be "seen or not, just as it is called out," his conclusion could only be that "all that is seen by the natural man is mind reduced to a state called matter," and that "there is no matter independent of mind, or life."
But even if granting this posture as a philosophical premise, is it a logical conclusion to insist, with Dr. Quimby, that disease is merely "a belief," and that "health is wisdom?"
"I deny disease as a truth," said he, but "admit it as a deception. Disease is an evil that follows taking an opinion for a truth. Every disease is an invention of man, and has no identity in wisdom.... Disease is the misery of our belief, happiness is the health of our wisdom.... False reasoning is sickness and death.... The devil is the error of mankind.... We are made up of truth and error. Disease is an error, or belief; the Truth is the cure."
It is necessary to explain, however, that Dr. Quimby found the cause of human misery "not alone in the conscious mind" and the "opinions and beliefs about disease," but in the "mental influences and thoughts by which every person is surrounded," and in the "unconscious or subconscious mind." He declared that he could tell "an idea or cause" of sickness from the sensation produced by it, "just as a person knows an orange by the odor." As he "was able to do this," says Mr. Dresser, "he always told the patient, at the first sitting, what the latter thought was his disease, and never allowed the patient to tell him anything about the case."
In a later chapter of our book, the hypothesis that because, in the last analysis "all things are mind," all disease can be cured by mind while it exists in the body, will be carefully considered. Meanwhile it must be admitted, without reserve, that under this doctrine, which Dr. Quimby himself believed with all his might, he practised "healing," for many years, with marvelous success.
He labored, too, under great difficulties. Fifty years ago, the average inhabitant of New England was not quite so bigoted and superstitious, perhaps, as the Jews in the time of Christ, but quite enough so to suggest a comparison. Dr. Quimby was not orthodox in his theology, and was still less orthodox in medicine. As Mr. Dresser records the situation,
"[Those] who were then willing to try a practitioner outside of the medical schools, were persons who had exhausted every means of help within those schools, and, when finally booked for the grave, would send or go to Quimby."
In the way of a "grim joke," the Doctor himself said that his patients "would send for him and the undertaker at the same time, and the one who got there first would get the case." And the worst of it all was that his power, when acknowledged, was frequently "imputed to the devil." Still, he had more work than he could do—so much that it wore him completely out, and finally ended his life at the age of sixty-four. In his busiest days, he said:
"I have sat with more than three hundred individuals every year for ten years, and for the last five years I have averaged five hundred yearly—people with all sorts of diseases, and every possible state of mind, brought on by all kinds of ideas in which people believe. Religion in its various forms embraces many of these causes. Some cases have been occasioned by the idea that [the patients] had committed the unpardonable sin. When asked what it was, no two persons ever answered alike."
There is no doubt that Dr. Quimby's patients were generally cured, unless he told them at once that they were past his or any other mortal aid. "He saw through them at a glance," as all who knew him agree in testifying. To deceive him was impossible. For instance: A lady who scouted his special vision, and was in good health, went to him feigning illness, and for the purpose of a test. "He received her, as he would any one, and, after a few moments, without a word having been spoken, took his chair, and, placing it before her, sat down with his back to her, saying: 'That is the way you feel toward me. I think you don't need my services, and had better go home.'" A patient and friend—an eye-witness of unquestionable veracity—says:
"People were coming to Dr. Quimby from all parts of New England. Many of these came on crutches, or were assisted into the office; and it was most interesting to note their progress day by day, or the remarkable change produced by a single sitting.... I remember one lady who had used crutches for twenty years, who walked without them after a few weeks."
There