son to believe. In a word, if the British druids were wholly ignorant of the principles and the use of any of the mechanical powers, it was most probably of the screw, though even of this we cannot be certain.
In Germany and in the northern nations of Europe the healing art was chiefly committed to the old women of every state; but in Gaul and Britain it was entrusted to the druids, who were the physicians as well as the priests of these countries. Pliny says expressly, that "Tiberius Cæsar destroyed the druids of the Gauls, who were the poets and physicians of that nation;" and he might have added, of the Britons. The people of Gaul and Britain were probably induced to devolve the care of their health on the druids, and to apply to these priests for the cure of their diseases, not only by the high esteem they had of their wisdom and learning, but also by the opinion which they entertained, that a very intimate connection subsisted between the arts of healing and the rites of religion, and that the former were most effectual when they were accompanied by the latter. It appears indeed to have been the prevailing opinion of the nations of antiquity, that all internal diseases proceeded immediately from the anger of the gods; and that the only way of obtaining relief from these diseases was by applying to the priests to appease their anger by religious rites and sacrifices. This was evidently the opinion and practice of the Gauls and Britons, who in some dangerous cases sacrificed one man as the most effectual means of curing another. "They are much addicted," says Cæsar, "to superstition, and hence those who are afflicted with a dangerous disease sacrifice a man, or promise that they will sacrifice one, for their recovery. For this purpose they make use of the ministry of the druids, because the latter have declared that the anger of the immortal gods cannot be appeased, so as to spare the life of one man, but by the life of another." This way of thinking also gave rise to that great number of magical rites and incantations with which the medical practices of the druids, and indeed of all the physicians of antiquity, were attended. "Nobody doubts," says Pliny, "that magic derived its origin from medicine, and that, by its flattering but delusive promises, it came to be esteemed the most sublime and sacred part of the art of healing."
That the druids made great use of herbs for medicinal purposes, there is sufficient evidence. They not only had a most superstitious veneration for the misletoe of the oak, on a religious account, but they also entertained a very high opinion of its medicinal virtues, and esteemed it as a kind of panacea, or remedy for all diseases. "They call it," says Pliny, "by a name which in their language signifies All-heal, because they have an opinion that it cures all diseases." They believed it to be in particular a specific against barrenness, and a sovereign antidote against the fatal effects of poisons of all kinds. It was also esteemed an excellent emollient and discutient for softening and dissolving hard tumours, and good for drying up scrofulous sores, and curing ulcers and wounds; and, provided it was not suffered to touch the earth after it was cut, it was thought to be a very efficacious medicine in epilepsy. It has been thought useful in this last calamitous disease by some modern physicians. The pompous ceremonies with which the misletoe was gathered by the druids have been already described. The selago, a kind of hedge lily resembling savin, was another plant much admired by the druids of Gaul and Britain for its supposed medicinal virtues, particularly in all diseases of the eyes. But its efficacy, according to them, depended very much upon its being gathered exactly in the following manner: The person who gathered it was to be clothed in a white robe; to have his feet bare, and washed in pure water; to
offer a sacrifice of bread and wine before he proceeded to cut it, which he was to do with his right hand covered with the skirt of his garment, and with a hook of some more precious metal than iron. When it was cut, it was to be received and kept in a new and very clean cloth. Gathered exactly according to this whimsical ritual, it was affirmed to be not only an excellent medicine, but also a powerful charm and preservative against misfortunes and unhappy accidents of all kinds. The druids also entertained a high opinion of the herb samolus or mashwort, from its sanative qualities, and gave directions for gathering it, not less fanciful than those which have already been mentioned. The person who was to perform that office was to do it fasting, and with his left hand; he was on no account to look behind him, nor to turn his face from the herbs he was gathering. It would be tedious to relate the extravagant notions they entertained of the many virtues of the vervain, and to recount the ridiculous mummeries which they practised in gathering and preparing it, both for the purposes of divination and physic. It is easy to see that Pliny's information was very imperfect; and that, like many of the other Greek and Roman writers, he designedly represented the philosophers of Gaul and Britain in an unfavourable light. The herb called Britannica by the ancients, which some think was the great water-dock, and others the cochlearia or scurvy-grass, was probably much used in this island for medicinal purposes, as it derived its name from Britain, and was thence exported to Rome and other parts. Though these few imperfect hints are all that we can now collect of the botany of the British druids, yet there is some reason to think that they were not contemptible botanists. Their circumstances were peculiarly favourable for the acquisition of this kind of knowledge. For as they spent most of their time in the recesses of mountains, groves, and woods, the spontaneous vegetable productions of the earth constantly presented themselves to their view, and courted their attention.
The opinions which, it is said, the druids of Gaul and Britain entertained of the anguinum or serpent's egg, both as a charm and as a medicine, are romantic and extravagant in a very high degree. This extraordinary egg was formed, as they pretended, by a great number of serpents, interwoven and twined together; and when it had been formed, it was raised up in the air by the hissing of these serpents, and was then to be caught in a clean white cloth before it fell to the ground. The person who caught it was obliged to mount a swift horse, and to ride away at full speed to escape from the serpents, who pursued him with great rage, until they were stopped by some river. The way of making trial of the genuineness of the egg was no less extraordinary. It was to be encased in gold, and thrown into a river, and if it was genuine it would swim against the stream. "I have seen," says Pliny, "that egg; it is about the bigness of a moderate apple, its shell is a cartilaginous incrustation, full of little cavities, such as are on the legs of the polypus; it is the insignia or badge of distinction of the druids." The virtues which they ascribed to this egg were many and wonderful. It was particularly efficacious in rendering those who carried it about with them superior to their adversaries in all disputes, and in procuring them the favour and friendship of great men. Some have thought that this whole affair of the serpent's egg was a mere fraud, contrived by the druids to excite the admiration and pick the pockets of a credulous people, who purchased these wonder-working eggs from them at a high price. Others have imagined that this story of the anguinum, of which there is an ancient monument in the cathedral at Paris, was an emblematical representation of the doctrine of the druids concerning the creation of the
world. The serpents, say they, represent the divine wisdom forming the universe, and the egg is the emblem of the world formed by that wisdom. It may be added, that the virtue ascribed to the anguinum, of giving those who possessed it a superiority over others, and endearing them to great men, may perhaps be intended to represent the natural effects of learning and philosophy. But in so doubtful a matter every one is of course at liberty to form what judgment he thinks proper.
As the influence and authority of the druids in their country depended very much upon the reputation of their superior wisdom and learning, they wisely applied to the study of those sciences which most directly contributed to the support and advancement of that reputation. In this number, besides those already mentioned, we may justly reckon rhetoric, which was diligently studied and taught by the druids of Gaul and Britain, who to the charms of their eloquence were indebted for much of the admiration and authority which they enjoyed. They had indeed many calls and opportunities to display their eloquence, and to discover its great power and efficacy; as, when they were teaching their pupils in their schools; when they discoursed in public to the people on religious and moral subjects; when they pleaded causes in the courts of justice; and when they harangued in great councils of the nation, and at the heads of armies ready to engage in battle, sometimes with a view to inflame their courage, and at other times with a design to allay their fury, and dispose them to make peace. Though this last was certainly a difficult task amongst fierce and warlike nations, yet such was the authority and eloquence of the druids, that they frequently succeeded in it. "They pay a great regard," says Diomedes Siculus, "to their exhortations, not only in the affairs of peace, but even of war; and these are respected both by their friends and enemies. They sometimes step in between two hostile armies, who are standing with their swords drawn and their spears extended, ready to engage; and by their eloquence, as by an irresistible enchantment, they prevent the effusion of blood, and prevail upon them to sheath their swords. So great are the charms of eloquence and the power of wisdom even amongst the most fierce barbarians." The British kings and chieftains, who were educated by the druids, were famous for their eloquence. This is evident from the many noble speeches which are ascribed to them by the Greek and Roman writers. For though these speeches may not be genuine, yet they are a proof that it was a well-known fact that these princes were accustomed to make harangues on such occasions. This we are expressly told by Tacitus: "The British chieftains, before a battle, fly from rank to rank, and address their men with animating speeches, tending to inflame their courage, increase their hopes, and dispel their fears." These harangues were called, in the ancient language of Britain, brosnichty kah, which is literally translated by Tacitus, incitamenta belli, incentives to war. The genuine posterity of the ancient Britons long retained their taste for eloquence, and their high esteem for those who excelled in that art. "Orators," says Mr Martin, "were in high esteem, both in these islands (the Hebrides) and the continent, until within these forty years. They sat always among the nobles or chiefs of families in the streeah or circle. Their houses and little villages were sanctuaries, as well as churches, and they took place before doctors of physic. The orators, after the druids were extinct, were brought in to preserve the genealogy of families, and to repeat the same at every succession of a chief; and upon the occasion of marriages and births, they made epithalamiums and panegyrics, which the poet or bard pronounced. The orators, by the force of their eloquence, had a powerful ascendant over
the greatest men in their time. For if any orator did but ask the habit, arms, horse, or any other thing belonging to the greatest man in these islands, it was readily granted him; sometimes out of respect, and sometimes for fear of being exclaimed against by a satire, which in those days was reckoned a great dishonour."
If the British druids, considering the times in which they lived, had made no contemptible proficiency in several parts of real and useful learning, it cannot be denied that they were also great pretenders to superior knowledge in certain vain and fallacious sciences, by which they excited the admiration, and took advantage of the ignorance and credulity, of mankind. These were the sciences, if they may be so called, of magic and divination, by means of which they pretended to work a kind of miracles, and exhibit astonishing appearances in nature: to penetrate into the counsels of heaven; to foretell future events, and to discover the success or miscarriage of public or private undertakings. Their own countrymen not only believed that the druids of Gaul and Britain were possessed of these powers, but they were celebrated on this account by the philosophers of Greece and Rome. "In Britain," says Pliny, "the magic arts are cultivated with such astonishing success, and so many ceremonies, at this day, that the Britons seem to be capable of instructing even the Persians themselves in these arts. They pretend to discover the designs and purposes of the gods. The Eubates or Vates in particular investigate and display the most sublime secrets of nature; and by auspices and sacrifices they foretell future events." They were so famous for the supposed veracity of their predictions, that they were not only consulted on all important occasions by their own princes and great men, but even sometimes by the Roman emperors. Nor is it very difficult to account for all this. The druids finding that the reputation of their magical and prophetic powers contributed not a little to the advancement of their wealth and influence, naturally endeavoured to strengthen and establish it by all their art and cunning. Their knowledge of natural philosophy and mechanics enabled them to execute such works, and to exhibit such appearances, or to make the world believe that they did exhibit them, as were sufficient to gain them the character of great magicians. The truth is, that nothing is more easy than to acquire this character in a dark age, and among an unenlightened people. When the minds of men are haunted with dreams of charms and enchantments, they are apt to fancy that the most common occurrences in nature are the effects of magical arts. The following strange story, which we meet with in Plutarch's Treatise of the Cessation of Oracles, was probably occasioned by something of this kind. "There are many islands which lie scattered about the isle of Britain, after the manner of our Sporades. They are generally unpeopled, and some of them are called the Islands of the Heroes. One Demetrius was sent by the emperor [probably Claudius] to discover these parts. He arrived at one of these islands [supposed by some to be Anglesey, but more probably one of the Hebrides] next adjoining to the isle of Britain before mentioned, which was inhabited by a few Britons, who were esteemed sacred and inviolable by their countrymen. Immediately after his arrival the air grew black and troubled, and strange apparitions were seen; the winds rose to a tempest, and fiery spouts and whirlwinds appeared dancing towards the earth." This was probably no more than a storm of wind, accompanied with rain and lightning, a thing neither unnatural nor uncommon; but Demetrius and his companions having heard that the British druids, by whom this isle was chiefly inhabited, were great magicians, imagined that it was raised by them, and fancied that they saw many strange and unnatural sights.