Part 57

This visionary not only fancied that letters possessed this influence, but that it was shared by numbers. Thus to cure a tertian fever he directs the use of Verbena, to be cut at the third articulation of the plant; but in the treatment of a quartern, the disease would only yield to the fourth joints. He added that every man was under the influence of three demons--a sacred demon (a divine gift)--an innate demon--and a professional demon, sent us by the constellations and the celestial intelligences.

These reveries, however, were interrupted by the still greater absurdities of Paracelsus, a man whose ignorance could only be equalled by his vanity, since he maintained that as the genius of Greece had produced Hippocrates, the genius of Germany had created him for the salvation of mankind. He further assured his disciples that all the universities in the world had less knowledge than his beard, and that every hair of his head was more learned than all their writers.

Paracelsus was perhaps one of the most singular enthusiasts that ever swayed the schools of medicine, or assumed a despotic stand in science. To superstition, credulity, and disreputable living, he certainly did add a certain degree of genius, but more particularly a _tact_ which established such a reputation, that, without much presumption, he might have claimed the title which he assumed, of "_Prince of Medicine_," to which he added the pompous appellation of _Aureolus, Philippus, Paracelsus Theophrastus Bombastus ab Hoppenheim_.

This strange personage was born in 1493, at Einsidlen, a village near Zurich; he studied under Fugger Schwartz, a celebrated professor of what was then called the _Spagyristic_ school, or _Hermetic Medicine_, founded on a visionary doctrine that I shall shortly notice. He subsequently travelled over the greater part of Europe, chiefly courting a motley society of physicians, philosophers, old women, and barbers, culling all that he could from pretended science or unblushing ignorance. After having visited the German mines, where he became tainted with the superstition of the credulous workmen, he repaired to Russia, when he was made prisoner by a party of Tartars, who conducted him to their Cham. Taken into favour by their chief, he accompanied his son to Constantinople, where he pretended to have discovered the philosopher's stone. On his return to his native country, the magistrates of Bale appointed him to the chair of medicine; and in 1527 we find him delivering a course of lectures in the German tongue, being but an indifferent scholar. This sedentary life did not suit his roving habits; and being, moreover, likely to bring his ignorance into its proper light, he set out for Alsace with another enthusiast of the name of Oporinus, with whom however he shortly quarrelled. He continued to wander from town to town, scarcely ever sleeping, or changing his linen, clad in the most slovenly manner, and generally in a state of intoxication, until at Saltzburg in 1541 he was taken ill at a miserable inn and died in the 48th year of his busy life.

He no doubt had obtained during his adventurous career much experience, having for a long time followed armies and attended at sieges, and during epidemic maladies; but he sought to disguise his want of a proper education by the assumption of a supernatural influence. One of his wildest flights of fancy was, perhaps, his receipt to make a man without conjunction.

His doctrines were founded upon Judicial Astrology, Alchymy, Cabal, and Chemistry. Grossly ignorant in the last science, he pretended that all our diseases depended upon its combinations,--the combustion of sulphur, the effervescence of saline particles, and the coagulation and stagnation of mercury in our humours: all under the influence of the _Ens Astrorum_, the _Ens Deale_, the _Ens Spirituale_, the _Ens Veneni_, and the _Ens Naturale_. _Mercury_ was evacuated through the pores of the skin; _sulphur_ emanated from the nostrils; _deliquescent sulphur_ was discharged by the intestines; a _watery solution of sulphur_ arose from the eyes, while _arsenic_ oozed out of the ears. When these evacuations did not take place, the humour became putrid, and putrescency was _Localiter_ or _Emunctor labiter_--as the humours were either retained or excreted.

This humoral doctrine of Paracelsus, strange to say, obtained for upwards of a century, and many were the learned men who distracted their brains and that of their disciples to multiply his errors, since we find Sanctorius calculates 90,000 morbid alterations in these peccant humours.

In another part of this work, I have related the absurdities of Van Helmont, another visionary of the seventeenth century. Endless would be the task of recording the many systems and doctrines that have in turn ruled the schools of medicine, and been supported both by professors and disciples with a degree of virulent hostility as implacable as religious controversies; and still, while we read with contempt the absurd doctrines of our forefathers, and smile at the folly of their visions, we ourselves are advocating systems which, after a lapse of some few years, will appear just as ridiculous and preposterous to our successors in the doubtful career.

One question naturally arises from all this controversial discrepance--has society benefited by the successive revolutions which have overthrown schools and doctrines, chairs and professors? have the advocates of Sangradian phlebotomy, and those who considered that the lancet has committed greater havoc than the sword--have the employers of antimony, and those who would have sent to the scaffold opponents who gave an antimonial preparation--have either of these enthusiasts diminished, in any sensible manner, the scale of mortality, or have they influenced the prevalence of disease? This is a most important question, and, however ungracious may be the task, I shall endeavour to consider it.

It is but too true, that, with the exception of the introduction of inoculation and the cowpox, the bills of mortality do not appear, at any period, to have been influenced by the prevalence of any one medical system. This circumstance, however, cannot be admitted as invalidating the claims of medical men to a due consideration of their respective merits. I have endeavoured to show, in a preceding article, that the laws of nature appear to have regulated the equilibrium of life and death and the progress of disease with such harmony, indeed, that we might say that our existence was regulated with arithmetical accuracy. If this is admitted, it might be alleged, that if such be our fated tenure of life, recourse to medical aid becomes useless, and the efforts of physicians must prove effete. Such a deduction would be fatalism in its most absurd form; for, admitting that our days are thus numbered, the human frame may be assailed by many ailments, that may not prove fatal, but admit of relief, if they cannot be cured. It is, therefore, obvious, that the services of a physician are of great value, if he merely can alleviate our sufferings, and render a painful existence tolerable. Daily facts corroborate this assertion, and the most cruel pangs are constantly relieved by professional aid, although it is not equally evident that the same skill can prolong the patient's life, if "his hour is come;" but, as we know not when that fatal moment may strike, we must clearly seek to wind up the marvellous machinery, and keep it "going" as long as we can. We constantly behold individuals whose existence is most precarious, and yet who linger on for years, frequently to the disappointment of expectant heirs; for there is much truth in the old saying concerning those invalids who are considered to "have one foot in the grave," they find _that foot_ so very uncomfortable, that they hesitate for a long time ere they thrust in its fellow.

There is little doubt but that much mischief has been done by ignorant men, yet, perhaps, if the truth were known, more vital injury has been inflicted on mankind by enthusiastic science--ignorance gropes its way, so long, at least, as modesty allows to doubt; but, so soon as presumption leads the way, then ignorance assumes dogmatic assurance, and places the hardy practitioner on the same line as presumptive science--or, at least, what is considered such. It is then that enthusiasm, combined with interested motives, seeks to maintain an acquired influence by experimental proofs of supremacy; and, as it has been truly said, "There is no writ of error in the grave," mother earth shrouds the fallacies, and every disease that the eminent practitioner cannot cure is deemed incurable.

On the other hand, the Creator has gifted mankind with an innate and latent power of resisting noxious influence--a power called by the schools the _vis medicatrix naturae_, and which is generally sufficient to throw off morbid attacks, when this principle is not exhausted, and the functions not impeded by organic derangement which involves the healthy equilibrium of life; then it is, that the prudent and experienced physician will carefully watch this precious faculty, and instead of counteracting the efforts of nature, assist her bounteous labours. This watchful practice, which may, however, be sometimes too inert, has been called _expectant medicine_--a slow and tardy process for the energetic practitioner, who, assuming the reins of life in his bold hands endeavours to goad and drive on nature in spite of herself; this practice has obtained the name of _active medicine_, of which our British practitioners are accused, by the _expectant_ continental physicians, who, to use a French expression, "_voient venir_," and the French themselves are so well aware of the imprudence of this hesitation in assisting nature, that they say "_Your physicians kill their patients, whereas ours let them die_." There is more truth in this remark than we perhaps are willing to believe.

The power of nature in the cure of diseases has been acknowledged by the most experienced and wise physicians. Stahl, in his dissertation, "_De Medicina sine Medico_," perhaps exaggerated the influence of this faculty. Bordeu maintains that out of ten patients, two-thirds are cured without assistance, and come within the circle of all those minor ailments to which flesh is the constant heir. The illustrious Boerhaave doubted whether the successful practice of the small number of able physicians was a compensation for the evils that arose from the errors of the ignorant; and, in this sad calculation, he seems disposed to think that it would have been better for mankind that the science of medicine had never existed.

All these deductions are both unjust and unwise; for, as I have already said, if physicians only possessed the means of affording relief, their mission upon earth is of the utmost importance. At the same time, while we watch the efforts of nature, it is our duty to rouse her energies when they become torpid, or to check inordinate action which would soon exhaust her power. Asclepiades very truly called the expectant practice of medicine "_a contemplation of death_." The powers of nature may be, and not inaptly, compared to those of the swimmer; however skilled in the art of natation, and able under ordinary circumstances to baffle an adverse tide, are we not to hasten to his succour, when we find that he is borne away by an inevitable current, or deprived by a cramp, of the power of stemming the stream?

We are also willing to forget, that the turbulence of passions, the "wear and tear" of life, by excesses or irregularities, gradually tend to render the "medicinal power" of nature of little or no avail; and it has been truly said, that had we no cooks, we perhaps might not have needed physicians. Man in fact, in a high state of civilization, seems determined to counteract all the efforts both of nature and of art to relieve him from the manifold curses of intemperance; and it is fortunate that his own feelings of gradual decay prompt him more energetically to a reform in his habits, than the most persuasive language his physician could employ.

In this illiberal view of the profession, how often do we lose sight of hereditary transmissions--heir-looms of disease--ingrafting misery on the variegated woof of our destinies--germs of fatal maladies which we bring into the world--a scourge on our posterity!--and yet, strange to say, our vain self-estimation blinds us in the contemplation of this doom--for the gratification of our desires, we bring forth a fearful generation--scrofulous, insane! Nay, we glory in the smiling offspring blooming around us--heedless, that the very roses we admire on their transparent cheeks, the coral hue that tinges their lips, are typical of flowers scattered on a grave, and the joyful beams of their bright yet languid looks are but the harbingers of the smile of death--the last kind look on earthly things.--And the physician is expected to arrest the hand of Providence--to eradicate germs struck before birth!

It must also be observed, that many of our maladies are, in fact, reactions of nature, endeavouring to overcome other affections--a struggle for harmonious unity--for healthy equilibrium. Thus do we see a burning fever, tending to cast upon the surface exanthematic eruptions--a febrile reaction which we call critical, and which too often, like a political crisis, destroys in fruitless endeavours to save. "_Si natura non moveat, move, tu, motu ejus_" was an ancient axiom; but how often, in seeking to trim the expiring lamp of life, do we not extinguish the last vital spark!

In regard to the influence of medicine on population, can it be expected, that when the most fatal pestilences do not thin it, the most erroneous medical practice can be more destructive? And, if nine-tenths of cholera, or pestiferated patients perish, on the other hand, nine-tenths of other cases of a less serious character are cured without medical intervention; and possibly, the chief study of a physician should be not to produce a more obstinate disease by the means he employs to cure an affection less formidable. Late years have proved that the effects of mercury were far more dreadful than the disease it was supposed to eradicate.

In the animadversions that are accumulated upon the physician, an insidious comparison to his disadvantage, has been made with the utility of the surgeon--a utility which man is compelled, however reluctantly, to acknowledge, since it is evident to his most gross senses--an amputated limb--a reduced luxation--are before his eyes, while the favourable changes operated on a morbid condition of the body are not self-evident, and can only be recognised by sound and unbiassed judgment. In this illiberal view, it is forgotten that the mere operative surgeon is nothing more than a mechanical agent--a butcher could perform the same operation with his rude knives and saws as the chirurgeon with his refined and improved instruments; it is the judgment that we look to, and the skill in attending to the general health of the patient, to bring him to a perfect cure; in these functions, of much more importance than the dexterity of the hand, the surgeon clearly assumes the duties of the physician; and it is not possible for a man to excel in one part of the profession without being conversant with the other; a surgeon must be a sound anatomist, and an observant physiologist--without the knowledge of these fundamental sciences, a surgeon and a physician might be compared to the bungler who attempted to repair a watch, without a previous acquaintance with its intricate machinery.

Let us hope that the mischievous distinction between surgery and medicine may soon become an obsolete prejudice, that was never founded upon reason, but simply based upon ambitious lucre. Let us hope that the graduate of an university will not conceive it beneath his dignity to save a fellow-creature's life by breathing a vein, and not esteem a vain and pompous piece of parchment an immunity from humane feelings and philanthropic duties.

As good often results from apparent evil, the converse must also be frequently admitted. That much evil has occurred from errors in medical doctrine is unfortunately but too true, yet this evil has never attained the extent which is generally supposed. I have already alluded to the curative powers of nature, ever tending, while still enjoying a portion even of their energies, to repel obnoxious agents--this power has saved the lives of many; and indeed, when we daily witness the excesses committed by the sensualist and the drunkard with apparent impunity, although exposed to destructive agencies more powerful than the generality of medicinal substances, we must come to the conclusion that the kitchen and the cellar are, at least, as formidable as the officinal preparations of the pharmacopolist.

That the physician, guided by experience and sound observation, is able, in very many cases to afford relief, must even be admitted by the most hostile depreciator of his science, who refuses to admit that he possesses the power of curing. This simple admission of daily facts, must entitle him to some degree of weight in our confidence, whatever may be our sceptical view of his doctrines.

While the real merits of a physician are so frequently overlooked, we constantly see a blind confidence reposed in a quack. The cause is obvious. A man of real merit seldom extols his own good qualities, nor does he seek the fulsome adulation and praise of others. He rests upon his own deserts; but how seldom are they rewarded: when modesty places her light "under a bushel" who will bring it into view?

Duclos has explained in some measure this apparent anomaly.--"The desire," he says "to obtain a high stand in the estimation of society, has given rise to reputation, celebrity, and renown,--the mainsprings of worldly

## action--arising from a similar principle, but showing different means and

results. Both reputation and renown may be enjoyed at the same time and yet be widely different. The public is not unfrequently surprised at the reputations that it had itself created. It seeks to inquire into their origin, but not being able to discover a merit which never did exist, it gradually admires and respects a phantom of its own evocation. As society thus bestows a reputation in a capricious manner, quacks will usurp one by their intrigues or by a barefaced impudence, which cannot claim the comparatively honourable denomination of proper pride and dignity. They themselves proclaim their merit to the world--at first their impertinence becomes a subject of derision, but they repeat the assertion of their superior skill so frequently and confidently, that they end by imposing themselves upon society. People forget where, whence, and from whom they heard these flattering eulogies, to which at last they yield their credence, and an adventurer who thus resolves to establish a reputation, with perseverance and impudence seldom fails."

It must also be remembered, that most medical men owe their success to woman's all-powerful aid. They are in general as blind and as pertinacious in their partialities as in their dislikes; seldom bestowing much judgment in either, but acting according to the impulses of their warm passions and flexibility. Females, from their situation in the world, stand in constant need of a friendly adviser, although they are rarely disposed to follow any advice, if their pleasures are marred by the suggestion, but when art and opportunity enable a man to turn their flexibility, their _impressionability_ to a good account, with the combined aid of vanity and weak nerves, he will in all probability succeed in obtaining a high estimation in the mind of a loquacious dame, who will blazon his fame far and near like the trumpeter of a mountebank. If this lady moves in an elevated and influencial sphere of life, to question her recommendation is to question her sense and power, both of which would be bold attempts; and thus have we seen an intriguing noble dame forcing a physician even upon royalty. Moreover, when we recollect that the wealthy send for a physician for every trifling real or supposed indisposition, which fashion or expediency may aggravate at will, to excite interest or carry a desirable point, it is manifest that the _cures_ of such a practitioner must be most numerous, since the attainment of any desire constitutes a _panacea_; and frequently we have seen a box at the opera, a check on a banker, a new carriage, or a diamond necklace, more efficacious than the most renowned nostrum, while the expulsion of an unpleasant plain-spoken acquaintance, or the kind reception of a dangerous and treacherous inmate, may produce more sudden recoveries than the most approved specific. The great science of such practitioners is to practise with equal success upon every branch of the family, to whom in return for their confidence, they can ensure peace and pleasure if they cannot bestow health. I cannot better conclude this article than by quoting the following passage of the sceptic Voltaire:

It is true that regimen is preferable to physic. It is also true that for a long period of time, out of one hundred physicians were twenty-eight quacks, and it is also true, that Moliere had very good reason to turn them into ridicule. It is also certain that nothing can be more absurd than to behold a crowd of silly women, and men, not less feminine in their habits, whenever they are satiated with eating, drinking, gambling, and late hours, calling in a physician for every trifling headache; consulting him as though he were a divinity, and praying for the miraculous gift of combined health and intemperance. It is nevertheless true, that a good physician in a hundred cases may preserve life and limb. A man falls down in an apoplectic fit, it will neither be a captain of infantry or a privy councillor that will relieve him. A cataract obscures my vision; my neighbouring gossips will not restore my sight; for here I make no distinction between the physician and the surgeon. For a long time the two professions have been inseparable. Men who would make it their study to restore health to their fellow-creatures on the sole grounds of humanity and benevolence, should be considered greater than the greatest man upon earth, and bordering upon divine attributes, for preservation and restoration stand next in rank to creation. The Romans were for upwards of five hundred years without physicians. Their people, continually employed in killing, thought but little of the preservation of life; what did they do when they were attacked with a putrid fever, a fistula, a hernia, or a pleurisy?--_They died._

MEDICINE OF THE CHINESE.

This singular people possess works on medical science which they trace as far back as three thousand years, and chiefly written by two of their emperors, _Chin-nong_ and _Hoang-ti_. It has been asserted that they received the early elements of the science from the Egyptians, but it is more probable that they derived their information from their constant intercourse with the Bactrians, whose arts and sciences were flourishing at the period of Alexander's conquests, and the Chinese historians in support of this probability, state that several learned physicians came from Samarcand to establish themselves amongst them. Moreover, the doctrines of Erasistratus bear much resemblance to those of the Chinese.

The superstitious regard shown to the bodies of the departed, must naturally have materially retarded the progress of anatomical pursuits, although this people assure us that 2706 years before our era they possessed a work on this subject, entitled _Nim Kin_. Howbeit it seems probable, from their extreme ignorance of the structure of the human body, that this important branch of the science of medicine has remained stationary ever since the publication of the aforesaid treatise.