Part 1
AN ESSAY ON DISEASES INCIDENTAL TO Literary _and_ Sedentary Persons. WITH PROPER RULES for preventing their fatal Consequences. AND INSTRUCTIONS for their CURE.
By S. A. TISSOT, M. D. Professor of PHYSICK at BERNE.
Now first translated into ENGLISH.
LONDON: Printed for EDWᵈ. and CHARLES DILLY, in the Poultry. MDCCLXVIII.
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TO
The CONSULS, QUÆSTORS, TRIBUNES, and other illustrious and great Men of the senatorial Order at _Berne_.
I am indebted to you for many great obligations, most illustrious and great men; and lately you have done me the honour to confer a most noble and unexpected favour upon me. It is but just that I should by words thank those to whom I am incapable of making any other return; and such a testimony of gratitude I will shew them as long as I live. It is proper that, being publickly graced by your favours, I should make a public acknowledgment, and give some pledge of my gratitude, however mean and inadequate. Receive therefore, most illustrious and excellent men, and deign to receive favourably, this first though feeble proof of my diligence in my new office. May the Almighty enable me to promote the public interest of the academy by more considerable and more valuable productions, and may the hopes which you have conceived of me, venerable fathers of your country, and the hopes which the people have conceived concerning this new professorship, be fulfilled to general satisfaction. May the propitious Deity likewise favour all your public and private undertakings, and shower all his choicest blessings both upon you and yours, and the whole commonwealth. And cease not, reverend fathers, to make happy, by your constant benevolence and favour, a man entirely devoted to the service of your excellencies.
S. A. TISSOT.
_Lausanne, April 29, 1766._
Advertisement to the Reader.
_The occasion of this discourse, and the choice of the materials, will sufficiently appear from the discourse itself: therefore, courteous reader, I shall not trespass upon thy patience by a long preface._
_I have long since read many treatises and dissertations concerning the health of the studious; but of all the authors, who have treated this subject, the only one who has acquitted himself to my satisfaction is BERNARD RAMAZINI: for I have not yet had an opportunity of reading the work of the celebrated PUJATUS, a man who in other respects has deserved highly of the medicinal science; but whose treatise upon this subject is, I find, neither praised by the journals nor by his friends. Nor is the work of RAMAZINI compleat; since he has left more topicks untouched than he has elucidated. I have therefore undertaken an important, an agreeable, and even a new subject; and I hope I shall not appear unequal to it; but it will be sufficient to have pointed out the road at a distance to learned travellers; they will soon be able of themselves to shew the unknown paths; which is my earnest wish and desire. In this treatise there will occur many passages transcribed verbatim from CELSUS, GAUBIUS, and other eminent men, and that even without distinguishing them by quotation. This plagiarism will, I hope, be excused, because I looked upon it as a sort of profanation to alter their words, as they were extreamly eloquent, and admirably adapted to my purpose: besides, it was improper to disgust the reader by too great a number of quotations._
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ON THE
DISEASES
OF
Literary _and_ Sedentary Persons.
When I consider with myself how many and how great men have formerly ascended this chair, with how general an applause they apply’d to the education of youth, and how every branch of erudition has been cultivated to such advantage by the present set of teachers, into whose learned order I am this day admitted by the great favour and indulgence of our senate; whilst I at the same time reflect how much this new situation differs from my former manner of living, in which as I had willingly pass’d a considerable part of my life, I had determin’d to continue to my old age; when I reflect upon all these circumstances, a tremor seizes my limbs, and my voice falters. But because from the very foundation of this respectable academy, custom, which governs all things, and your expectation requires it of me, embolden’d by your kindness, I will make trial of my abilities.
Being a new member, and ascending a new chair, I propos’d to speak of the connexion between physic and other academical studies, and it was my design to explain what it borrows from them, and what it contributes to them in its turn.
It would be a pleasure to me, reverend pastors of the church, and illustrious professors of divinity, to declare aloud how much physick is indebted to religion; I would gladly vindicate the principles of physicians from the imputations of ancient calumny, and prove that religion is strongly supported by a science, which, being totally conversant in the contemplation of an admirable creature, demonstrates from the wonderful mechanism of a man in health, and the surprising cures of the sick, the existence and great wisdom of the Supreme Artificer, and that even to the most obstinate. Do men forget the Deity? Physicians stand forth, and theology is entirely reviv’d; for who have spoken more truth, or in a sublimer stile concerning God, than they? There would be no end, were I to cite them all; but I must not pass over in silence HIPPOCRATES, the first who ever asserted that fate produc’d nothing, but that all those events, which we call fortuitous, are regulated by the will of God: the next to him is GALEN, who diffusively proves, that the existence of God is demonstrated by the position of the thumb alone; and calls his treatise concerning the use of the parts, a monument to the glory of the Deity: to him must be added POLYCHRESTUS, to whom the illustrious sir-name of _Lover of God_ was given, on account of his great piety: BOYLE, who wrote excellent works himself, and founded an admirable institution for the promotion of religion, which he nobly endow’d; his friend SYDENHAM; the immortal LOCK; HOFFMAN, who carried his piety so far, that he was not entirely free from superstition; the admirable TRALLES; and my dear and worthy friend HALLER, who in an excellent treatise has asserted the utility of religion in a manly stile, as usual, and exerts himself to the utmost to promote its cause.
Physicians indeed laugh at the idle tales of old women, at the extravagancies of the vulgar, and thereby incur the censure of weak and superstitious people; they deride the inventions of imagination; and whilst every divine lays down his own opinion as the rule of truth, physicians make a jest of the phantoms which these set up for religion, and refuse to embrace a cloud for a Juno: thence all these clamours, these accusations, these reproaches, and these calumnies. But if some of our society have in fact been led astray by error, which I am sorry to say cannot be denied, the severe censure of their colleagues has soon convinced the public how much they disapprov’d of their principles.
It would be a pleasure to me, most learned professor of morality, whom to address by the tender name of father-in-law is my greatest happiness; it would be a pleasure to me, I say, to treat to the best of my abilities of the connexion between the knowledge of morals and of health; how near the relation is between them, how exact the concatenation in every respect. This is certainly both an agreeable and useful undertaking: nor is it altogether new; for HIPPOCRATES has in his whole treatise concerning diet, done his utmost to prove that souls are the same in all men, and that the various degrees of wisdom and folly proceed from the different temperament of their bodies; and GALEN, who has admirably demonstrated the power of the body over the mind and the motions of the will, desired the teachers of philosophy, sixteen ages ago, to send all persons of bad morals to him to be cur’d[1].
Should I be ever so full, most learned professor of jurisprudence, I could not entirely display the connexion between us; for whether a legislator regulates a commonwealth, or whether a judge upon the bench weighs questions of civil law, or criminal and ecclesiastical causes, in the ballance of Themis, there occur cases, and those not a few, in which he cannot do without the assistance of our art.
It would be necessary to lay open the greatest part of natural knowledge, most profound professor of philosophy, were I to treat of all that it has in common with physick; for you well know that both the cure of diseases, and the contemplation of the nature of things, had their beginnings from the same authors. We are therefore inform’d that many of the professors of natural philosophy were well skilled in physick, and that the most illustrious of these were PYTHAGORAS, EMPEDOCLES, and DEMOCRITUS. HIPPOCRATES was the first who separated these studies; but he did not separate them in such a manner as to pull them asunder entirely, but so as to split that comprehensive science into several more minute members, that many might cultivate divided, what one could not learn entire; but that neither should desert what nature made inseparable.
That part of this science, which considers body merely as body, has retain’d the name of natural philosophy: others went by various names, according to the different sorts of bodies of which they treated. The human body is the object of physick, which without natural philosophy is lame; for he is but a dunce in the art of healing, who is not acquainted with the forces of bodies, and the laws of motion: nor do professors of physick care to undertake the education of those, who are ignorant of natural philosophy. But if physick is greatly indebted to this science, it can in some respects return the favour, and physicians have return’d it in many instances: for GILBERT, who first satisfactorily explain’d the phænomena of electricity, was a physician, as was likewise BOYLE, who promoted natural knowledge more than any other philosopher; and BOERHAAVE, whose experiments upon the elements have given a new face to this science; and to pass over many others in silence, the illustrious MUSCHEMBROEK, who is universally allow’d to surpass all others in this article.
And there is some connexion, though perhaps not so close, between your studies and physick, illustrious professors of history and languages; for what physician would not be asham’d to be ignorant of history and the humanities? Who would not be desirous of consulting the Arabian physicians in the originals, as none of them has hitherto been faithfully translated? Are there not likewise certain parts of history, which physick alone can throw proper lights upon? Is not CELSUS a physician, whose works all that are desirous of speaking Latin in perfection, study night and day? PLINY, in whom we meet not merely with helps for acquiring the Latin language, but with the purest Latinity, though he did not practise physic, understood it perfectly, and is entirely taken up in explaining it. ARETEUS, whom we respect as a master of the healing art, is conspicuous for the elegance of his Greek. GALEN has an eloquence peculiar to himself. So has ALEXANDER. And those who cultivate the Arabic language, boast that it is no where to be found in greater purity than in the writings of physicians.
It appear’d to me at first sight, that on so copious a subject it would be easy to make an oration; but upon maturer deliberation I began to think quite otherwise; and so, having laid down a burthen too heavy for my shoulders, and left it to more sublime geniuses, I kept to my practice, _my labour is here engaged, and not my eloquence_; and, having resigned the hopes of declaiming like an able orator, or soothing your ears with the allurement of words, I have chosen this subject, as capable of pleasing you by its own force; and as it is sufficient barely to lay it before you, it requires no ornaments:
_De tauris dicit arator, navita de ventis._ _Quod medicorum est promittunt medici._
_The plowman talks of oxen, the sailor of the wind._ _Physicians offer what belongs to their profession._
And addressing myself to learned men as a physician, I shall treat of the health of studious men; and here again I must request your indulgence:
_Dira per incautum serpunt contagia vulgus._
_A dire contagion through the vulgar spreads._
But whilst I was hurried about to attend a crowd of patients, I had no leisure to polish my work; therefore I have without method thrown together my thoughts and observations on this useful topic.
It is an old complaint, that study, though essentially necessary to the mind, is hurtful to the body; and CELSUS has intimated the necessity of a remedy. Those that are of weak constitutions, says he, as most studious men are, should take greater care than others, that what is impaired by application to their studies may be repair’d by attention to their constitutions. And PLUTARCH, an admirable judge of what is right and becoming, declares it to be a shame, that the learned should spend days and nights in useless investigations, and at the same time neglect the art of preserving their health; being, doubtless, ignorant that the healing science was formerly look’d upon as a part of wisdom, and that those chiefly requir’d medical assistance, who have impair’d their bodily strength by anxious thought and watchfulness.
There are two principal sources, from whence all the sufferings of the studious flow; the constant exercise and application of the mind, and the continual rest of the body; for they are as indolent in body, as they are busy and active in mind. By enumerating the ills, that arise from both causes, a dreadful crop of diseases will be display’d.
Let metaphysicians bewilder themselves in inquiries, how the mind governs the body, and is govern’d by the latter in its turn; physicians, descending to considerations of less importance, but of greater certainty, perhaps, and little sollicitous about the causes of this mutual government, and but confining their inquiries to phænomena, know by experience, that certain emotions of the mind necessarily arise from certain conditions of the body, and that by particular emotions in the mind particular changes are unavoidably produc’d in the body, and that whilst the mind thinks, some part of the brain is stretch’d. We make no other inquiry; it would be of no use to know any thing farther.
So close is the connexion between mind and body, that we cannot well conceive the operations of the one independent of some correspondence with the other. For as the senses are incapable of conveying the materials of thought to the soul, without the motion both of their own fibres and those of the brain, so, whilst the mind revolves these cogitations, the organs of the brain are more or less stimulated to act, stretch’d, and have oscillatory motions excited in them. The mind agitates the machine; and these are the labours of the medullary part, which, being so tender, does not suffer the less by these motions; and every man easily feels that in himself, which the strongest arms experience after the most violent exercise.
For which of you, that has been addicted to a studious life, has not often found, after intense thought, that the innermost part of the brain has been affected by a troublesome heat, and intense pain, such as the muscles feel when fatigu’d with long labour? Nor does the medullary part of the brain suffer alone, but the very eyes themselves can perceive the force of the thinking soul, extended beyond the brain: for whilst we look upon a man that meditates seriously, all the muscles of his face appear stretched, nay sometimes convuls’d. Nor does the brain, the medulla of which is the source of the nerves, suffer alone, but they themselves are hurt; and PLATO has admirably shewn, in the masculine style in which he so greatly excell’d, how much the exercise of the mind prejudices the body. “Quando anima, inquit, corpore admodum potentior est, exultatque in eo atque effertur, totum ipsum intrinsecus quatiens languoribus implet. Quando etiam ad dicendum, investigandumque, collectis in unum viribus, vehementer incumbit, liquefacit prorsus corpus, & labefactat; denique cum ad dicendum, differendumque privatim & publice ambitiosa quadam concertatione contendit, inflammat corpus atque resolvit. Tam arcta enim lege consortii, sic RAMAZZINI, fœderantur anima & corpus ut omnia tam bona quam mala unius in alterum vicissim corrivent, ac veluti, ex corporis nimia exercitatione, anima ad mentis functiones languescit, ac torpet, sic ob nimiam animæ contentionem, circa sapientiæ studium, corpus marcescat necesse est, absumptis nempe spiritibus, communi scilicet instrumento ad materiales & spirituales operationes rite obeundas.” “As the mind, says he, is far more powerful than the body, and exults and is elate therein, it affects it inwardly, and fills it entirely with languor; and when, by gathering together its strength, it applies earnestly to learning and to the investigating of things, it quite dissolves and unhinges the body: finally, when with an ambitious emulation it exerts itself to speak and harangue both in private and public, it inflames the body and relaxes it. For, as RAMAZZINI observes, the soul and body are united by so firm a league, that all the advantages and disadvantages of the one must affect the other; and as the soul is rendered languid in the mental functions, and become stupified in the same manner by the too great application of the mind to the study of wisdom, the body must unavoidably pine away, the animal spirits being consum’d, which are the only instruments of rightly performing both material and spiritual operations[2].” These are indeed observations highly just. For he who is not ignorant what a multitude of nerves there are in the animal system, who is sensible that there is no function that can be performed without them, will easily apprehend that by the fatigue of the medulla a languor may be brought upon all the nerves, so that the several functions may be weakened, and the strength of the body may, without its being exercised, be totally exhausted.
It is universally known that there are books compos’d without any strength of genius, which appear quite insipid and unaffecting to the reader, and only tire the eyes; but those that are compos’d with an exquisite force of ideas, and with an exact connexion of thought, elevate the soul, and fatigue it with the very pleasure, which, the more compleat, lasting, and frequent it is, breaks the man the more[3].
MALEBRANCHE was seized with dreadful palpitations in reading DESCARTES’S Man; and there is still living at Paris a professor of rhetoric, who fainted away whilst he was perusing some of the sublime passages of HOMER[4].
The head itself, and the nerves, and the stomach which is fuller of nerves than any other part, first suffer for the errors of the mind.
An eminent person, who had impair’d his health by too intense an application to study, was immediately seiz’d by a terrible vertigo, if he happen’d to listen attentively to a person telling a story. He likewise complained, that nothing could give him greater uneasiness than his attempting to recall the memory of any thing, for then he was put to the greatest pain imaginable, and sometimes seiz’d with a fainting fit, attended with a sense of extreme lassitude. Nor could he desist from his effort after he had once begun it, though he labour’d ever so much for that purpose; but was under a necessity of proceeding as he had begun, till he fainted away[5]. The illustrious VIRIDET, formerly my fellow-citizen, knew a woman who, whenever she us’d any application of mind, was seiz’d with a severe fit of the colic[6]. And a late author speaks of a man who never either thought intensely, or experienc’d any lively sensation, or was put in a passion, but his whole arm immediately swell’d up[7]. Both of which cases may be explained by the defect of the nerves alone, and the action of the mind upon the nerves.
Daily observation proves the force of the mind’s action upon the stomach; and this every man has an opportunity of experiencing in himself; for the more intensely any man thinks, and the more strongly he exerts the reflecting powers of his mind, the more slowly and with the greater difficulty, _cæteris paribus_, does he digest what he eats; and, on the other hand, the freer a man’s mind is from reflexion, the more readily and the better he digests. It is observable that fools always eat and drink a great deal, and yet digest perfectly well, even though they lead a sedentary life, and do not surpass others either in the bulk or strength of their bodies: whilst men of genius and abilities, though they have strong muscles, and take exercise sufficient, are obnoxious to crudities in the stomach and slowness of concoction [8]. BOERHAAVE, who resided a long time in a city renown’d for learning, has observ’d that studies excite a disagreeable sensation at the upper orifice of the stomach; and that, if this be neglected by the studious, madness ensues[9]. My illustrious friend POME knew a man of learning, who had made his stomach so infirm by intense application, that immediately after eating he vomited[10]. I myself have seen some, who, when their minds were wearied out with constant study, being taken ill, at first lost all appetite, then were seiz’d with a weakness of their whole bodies, and at last with dreadful paroxysms, which began with vomiting, and ended in convulsions and a total privation of their senses.
Soon, by an unavoidable fatality, the disorder that had affected the body recoils upon the mind; for the Author of nature has ordain’d that most of the operations of the latter should stand in need of the assistance of the former; which has given occasion to the following just observation of PLINY the younger[11], and long before him it was observed by DEMOCRITUS, that the mind is supported by what supports the body. “Augescit mens cum adest sanitas, adeoque huic ut prospiciant, qui recte sentiant consentaneum est: ubi vero corporis habitus dolet nec mens ad virtutis meditationem est alacris.” “The mind acquires new vigour whilst the body is in health; therefore all those who think justly will take care of the latter: but, when the body is in a painful state, the mind is less alert in the meditation of virtue[12].” Should it then seem surprising, if, when the tenor of the brain and nerves is broken by the efforts of the mind, the latter should decline in its turn? First of all it is depriv’d of its fortitude; distrust, terror, and melancholy, seize upon it; and he who would have stood undaunted amidst a falling world a few months before, is every moment fill’d with terror and consternation, as soon as his nerves are affected by a hypochondriac disorder. Relentless tyrants may have condemn’d to death philosophers whom they hated; but it never was in their power to subject them to the dread of death, which they had long shaken off. O how much more cruel would they have been, if they had granted them their lives, and had it in their power to torment their minds with hypochondriacal terrors!