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 thevis medicatrix naturæ, 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 calledexpectant 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 ofactive medicine, of which our British practitioners are accused, by theexpectantcontinental 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 utmostimportance. 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 ofparchment 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, theirimpressionabilityto 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 thecuresof such a practitioner must be most numerous, since the attainment of any desire constitutes apanacea; 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 hundredphysicians were twenty-eight quacks, and it is also true, that Molière 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.
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-nongandHoang-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, entitledNim 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.
The Chinese physicians divide the body into a right and left portion, and three regions. The upper one, comprising the head and the chest, a middle one, extending from the lower part of the thorax to the umbilicus, and an inferior region, comprising the hypogaster and lower extremities. They admit twelve viscera as the sources of life, but they do not appear to have any distinct notion of the division, uses and conformation of the muscles, nerves, vessels, and the various tissues of the human economy. Their ignorance equally extends to the construction of animals.
They consider that man is influenced by two principles, heat and humidity, the harmony of which constitutes life, which ceases when their equilibrious state is destroyed. Vital moisture resides in the heart, lungs, liver, spleen, and kidneys, while vital heat pervades the intestines, the stomach, the pericardium, the gall-bladder and the ureters. These two principles are transmitted through the medium of the vital spirits and the blood by twelve canals, one of which carries a fecundating moisture from the head to the hands; another from the liver to the feet; a third from the kidneys to the left side of the body; and a fourth from the lungs to the right division.
In addition to these channels of vital transmission, they imagine that the state of our internal organs can be ascertained by the appearance of various parts of the head, which they consider as indicative sympathies of the action of the internal viscera. For instance, the head corresponds with the tongue, the lungs with the nostrils, the spleen with the mouth, the kidneys influence the ear, the liver acts upon the eyes, and thus they consider that they can form a correct idea of the nature of internal maladies by the complexion, the state of the eyes, the sound of the voice, the taste, and the smell of the patient.
The Chinese physiologists also consider the human body as a harmonic instrument, of which the muscles, tendons, nerves, arteries, &c. are vibrating chords, producing various sounds and modulations, and the pulse their chief guide in ascertaining the nature of disease, is but the result of a modification of these sounds as the chords are more or less extended or relaxed.
In addition to these singular views of the human economy, they imagine that the body is influenced by five elementary agents, earth, minerals, water, air, and fire.
Fire prevails in the heart and the thoracic viscera, which bear an astronomic relation with the south.
The liver and the gall-bladder are under the influence of air, which is in relation with the east, whence the winds arise, and it is towards spring that these organs are generally affected.
The kidneys and ureters are ruled by water, astronomically associated with the north—hence winter is the usual season of the maladies in these parts.
The stomach and spleen are regulated by earth, and are placed in connexion with the centre of the firmament, between the five cardinal points, and affections of these parts are observed in the third month of each quarter.
Diseases are distinguished by their vicinity to or their distance from the central part of the body, the heart and lungs, and are usually occasioned by vicissitudes in the atmospheric constitution—varying with cold, heat, and moisture.
The minuteness of their division of maladies is as great as the mechanical precision which all their labours exhibit: for instance, they admit no less than forty-two varieties of the smallpox; according to the shape, colour, situation of the pustules, which they compare to the cocoons of the silkworm—to strings of beads—chaplets of pearls—and lay equal stress on their being flat or round—black, red, or violet. This disease has, indeed, been described by them with much accuracy and judgment, as regards its benign or its confluent character; and there is no doubt that inoculation was practised among them from time immemorial, as I have already shown in the article on that head. Equally accurate have they been in detailing the various symptoms of gout, scurvy, elephantiasis, and syphilis, which also scourges the “Celestial empire.”
The chief guide, however, in their diagnosis and prognosis, is the state of the pulse, and a very curious work, called “The Secrets of the Pulse,” and said to have been written two centuries before our era, byOuang-chou-hóorVam-xo-ho. The pulse is divided into the external, the middle, and the deep—producingninedifferent pulsations calledHeon, and the arterial beats were formerly sought for in the joint of the big toe; this custom is now abandoned, but they still follow the strange practice of taking up the right wrist in women and the left in men.
The external pulse, calledPiao, is subdivided into several varieties.
1. The superficial P. inFéou, which yields to the slightest pressure.
2. The hollow P.Kong, which announces that the artery is empty when pressed upon.
3. The slippery P.Hang, which slides under the fingers, like the beads of a necklace.
4. The full P.Ché, striking against the fingers with a full caliber of blood.
5. The tremulous P.Hien, vibrating like the chord of a musical instrument.
6. The intermittent P.Kin, vibrating by starts, like the instrument calledKin.
7. The regurgitating P.Hong, the strong pulsation of a full and distended vessel.
These seven characters are considered much more favourable than the eight which follow, and which, arising from a deeper action, require a more forcible pressure.
1. The deep P.Tehin, only discovered by a firm pressure.
2. The filiform P.Ouei, a threadlike pulsation.
3. The moderate P.Ouan, slow and languid.
4. The sharp P.Soe, producing the sensation of a cutting or sawing instrument.
5. The slow P.Tehis, when the pulsations follow each other with languid intervals.
6. The sinking P.Fou, when the pulse, although pressed hard, sinks under the finger.
7. The soft P.Sin, which feels like a drop of water one might press upon.
8. The weak P.Yo, which yields the sensation of feeling like a worn-out texture, and ceases to be observed when pressed upon for any time.
To these are added nine other varieties, calledTao.
1. The long P.Tehang, full, smooth—feeling like a full tube.
2. The short P.Toan, presenting a pointed surface, that seems indivisible.
3. The empty P.Hin, insensible under moderate pressure.
4. The tight P.Tsou, which the finger feels with difficulty.
5. The embarrassed P.Kié, languid and occasionally stopping.
6. The intermittent P.Tai, when several pulsations appear to be missing.
7. The slender P.Sié, so slow and weak, that it feels like a hair.
8. The moving P.Tong, that one might compare to stones under water.
9. The tense P.Ké, feeling like a distended drum-head.
But as many Chinese doctors were not satisfied with this confusion in the classification of pulses, and, like practitioners in other countries, sought to render darkness still more visible—they sought to strike out a new career by increasing the multiplication, and introduced the followingaddenda:
1. The strong pulse,Ta, filling the vessel, yet yielding to pressure.
2. The precipitate P.Son, in which the pulsation was rapid in succession.
3. The scattered P.San, soft, slow, and non-resisting.
4. The stray P.Li-king, strong—not pulsating three times in each inspiration.
5. The firm P.Tun, consistent and resisting.
6. The lively P.Ki, pulsation rapid in succession.
7. The skipping P.Teng, pulsation unequal, sudden, and frequent.
In this minute attention to the many variations of the pulses, the Chinese aided their study, by attending to age, sex, stature, constitution, the seasons, the passions, and the comparative state of health and disease.
In a person of high stature, the pulse was full—concentrated in diminished individuals—deep and embarrassed in fat subjects—long and superficial in the meager—soft in the phlegmatic temperament—tremulous in the lively and the active—slower in man than in woman, excepting when threatened with disease—full and firm in the adult—slow and feeble in old age—soft and vivacious in infancy.
The rhythm of the pulse was affected by the passions, though chiefly in a transient manner:—moderately slow, in joy—short, in grief—deep, under the impression of fear—precipitate and regurgitating, in anger. In the spring, they maintained that the pulsation was tremulous—replete, in summer—spare and superficial, in autumn—dry and deep, in winter. Much mysterious ceremony was observed by the Chinese physicians in this investigation; they felt the pulse with four fingers, which they alternately raised or dropped on the vessel, as if playing on a musical instrument.
In this profound study, they attributed to every disease a peculiar state of the pulse by which it could be recognised and ascertained, and at the same time it enabled them to form afavourable or unfavourable prognostic. Some of these rules are curious. If the pulses stop before fifty pulsations have been counted, disease is at hand; when an interruption in the course of the circulation takes place after forty pulsations, the patient has not more than four years to live; when an interruption takes place after the third pulsation, three or four days are the probable term of existence; but the patient may linger on for six or seven days more, when the interruption only succeeds the fourth pulsation.
Idle as these speculations may appear, it is to be feared that while the Chinese paid such minute attention to the state of the circulation, more distinguished and learned schools do not consider this powerful indication of the strength or weakness of the vital functions with sufficient care and discrimination, and perhaps a translation of the works ofOuang-chou-ho, might not be altogether useless in the present enlightened age. I have no hesitation in saying that this important investigation is sadly neglected in medical education—so much so indeed, that the different appellations given to the varied state of the pulse, are neither well defined nor generally understood. The French physician Bordeu has given much valuable information on this subject, which occupied the ancients as much as it seems to have fixed the attention of the Chinese. We find that the Indians, in the time of Alexander, accurately studied this important point.
Notwithstanding the assertion of Sprengel, Hippocrates was a most attentive observer of the state of the pulse. Thus we find him giving the name of σφυγμος to that violent and spasmodic beating of the artery, which was not only sensible to the touch, but evident to the bystander’s eye—in more than forty passages of his immortal works do we find important references to the pulse, which he also declared could enable us to detect the secret workings of the passions. Many were the ancient physicians who have minutely entered into these investigations, amongst them we may name Herophilus, Erasistratus, Zeno, Alexander Philalethes, Heraclides of Erythræ, Heraclides of Tarentum, Aristoxenes. Several of the doctrines founded on these observations were most absurd, attributing the various conditions of the circulation to thePneumaof the heart and arteries; such were the doctrines of Asclepiades, Agathinus, Galen, and many others; and amongst the Arabians we findThabeth Ebn Ibrahimasserting that by the state of the pulse he could ascertain what articles of food had been taken—in more modern times Baillou, Wierns, Boerhaave, Hoffmann, havesedulously applied themselves to this most essential study, and Schelhammenn asserts that the pulse never once deceived him.
The effect of our passions on the circulation is much more powerful than is generally believed, and they are a more fertile source of our maladies than is commonly apprehended. We can readily conceive why the Spartan Chilo died through excess of joy whilst embracing his victorious son.[53]
In the treatment of disease, the Chinese, so fond of classification, divide the medicinal substances they employ into heating, cooling, refreshing, and temperate; theirmateria medicais contained in the work called thePen-tsaocang-mouin fifty-two large volumes, with an atlas of plates; most of our medicines are known to them and prescribed; the mineral waters, with which their country abounds, are also much resorted to; and their emperor,Kang-Hi, has given an accurate account of several thermal springs. Fire is a great agent, and themoxarecommended in almost every ailment, while acupuncture is in general use both in China and Japan; bathing andchampooingare also frequently recommended, but blood-letting is seldom resorted to.
China has also her animal magnetizers, practising theCoug fou, a mysterious manipulation taught by the bonzes, in which the adepts produce violent convulsions.
The Chinese divide their prescriptions into seven categories.
1. The great prescription.
2. The little prescription.
3. The slow prescription.
4. The prompt prescription.
5. The odd prescription.
6. The even prescription.
7. The double prescription.
Each of these receipts being applied to particular cases, and the ingredients that compose them being weighed with the most scrupulous accuracy.
Medicine was taught in the imperial colleges of Pekin; but in every district, a physician, who had studied six years, is appointed to instruct the candidate for the profession, who was afterwards allowed to practise, without any further studies or examination; and it is said, that, in general, the physician only receives his fee when the patient is cured. Thisassertion, however, is very doubtful, as the country abounds in quacks, who, under such restrictions as to remuneration, would scarcely earn a livelihood. Another singular, but economical practice prevails amongst them—a physician never pays a second visit to a patient unless he is sent for. Whatever may be the merits of Chinese practitioners both in medicine and surgery, or their mode of receiving remuneration, it appears that they are as much subject to animadversion as in other countries:—a missionary having observed to a Chinese, that their medical men had constantly recourse to fire in the shape of moxa, redhot iron, and burning needles; he replied, “Alas! you Europeans are carved with steel, while we are martyrized with hot iron; and I fear that in neither country will the fashion subside, since the operators do not feel the anguish they inflict, and are equally paid to torment us or to cure us!”
However ungrateful the discussion of this subject may be, since, in truth and justice, it must be considered with an unbiassed and unprejudiced mind, and elicit observations which may prove offensive to many, and absurd to some, it is one of such moment on the score of humanity, that I undertake the task without hesitation or reluctance.
In support of the practice it has been urged, that mankind owes the most valuable discoveries in the science of medicine and its collateral branches to the vivisection of animals; that since the brute creation was intended for the use of our species, we could not apply them to a more important and justifiable purpose, than that of endeavouring to initiate ourselves in those wonderful functions of nature, a knowledge of which would give us a clearer insight of the mysterious machinery, and thereby the better enable us to remedy their derangement when in a morbid state. It has further been maintained, that when man to indulge his capricious appetites and his various amusements, tortures every creature that can minister to his depraved fancies or his unruly pleasures—hewould be more excusable, if not fully justifiable even in the eyes of the most sentient philanthropist, in submitting these creatures to smaller or greater sufferings, if mankind could be ultimately benefited by this sacrifice of feeling. What, indeed, could be our commiseration when beholding the agonies of a mangled dog or a cat, if the throes of his sufferings, and the incalculable pangs he endured, could restore a beloved child to his disconsolate parents, or a sinking father to his helpless family. Moreover, is not man, from the very nature of his social position, created to suffer more than animals, not only from the many natural diseases to which flesh is heir, but to the torturing wounds received on the field of battle—the burning fevers of distant climes—the chances of war, pestilence, and famine—all of which are aggravated by that power of judgment, that reflection and consciousness derivating from the possession of an immortal soul, which makes the future more horrible than the present, however great its miseries may be. It has also been urged, that animals in their savage state, undomesticated by thehumaneinterference of man, inflict upon each other injuries under which they linger and die in excruciating pain; and, therefore, when we submit them to similar agonies, we only fill up the intended measure of their destined sufferings.
It is painful to assert it, but all these allegations, I consider as not only unsupported by facts and experience, but grounded on speculative sophistry; for, in regard to the injuries which animals in their wild condition may inflict upon each other, they may be the result of the wise provisions of the CREATOR, with which man, however presumptuous he be, has nothing to do, and even were it in his power to check their furious and destructive propensities, it is more than likely, from what we daily witness, that he would turn them to a profitable or a pleasurable account, as most probably, the sight of a combat between a wild elephant and a rhinoceros (provided the spectators were perfectly secure), would attract a greater multitude, anddrawmore money, than a dog-fight or a bull-bait—a tiger-hunt, were it not attended with some personal danger which requires courage, would prove more delectable than the pursuit of a timid hare.
But I now come to a much more important consideration—the benefit to mankind that has occurred or that may be derived from such experiments. And here I must give as my most decided opinion, that if any such beneficial results did arise from the inquiries, they were not commensurate withthe barbarity of the experiments; nay, I shall endeavour to show, that they are frequently more likely to deceive us, by propping up fallacious and tottering theories, than to shed any valuable light on the subject of investigation.
I readily admit that there does exist much analogy in the structure of man and certain animals in the higher grades of the creation; that the functions of respiration, digestion, absorption, locomotion, are to a certain extent similar, and that experiments made to ascertain the mechanism of these functions (if I may so express myself), may tend, in some measure, to teach us that which the inanimate corpse of man cannot exhibit; but, admitting to the full extent of argumentation, the analogy of these functions, I do maintain that the phenomena of life differ widely between man and animals, and the very nervous influences which we seek to discover are, in life, of a nature totally different. Were it not so, would the senses of different animals, rendered more or less acute or obtuse according to their natural pursuits and protective habits, be so materially unequal? Indeed, the laws of nature that submit every creature to the immutable will of Providence are totally unlike; and each apparatus of life in divers beings seems to be especially calculated for the identical race: what is poison to the one is an aliment to another; and the vivid light which the eyes of one creature can bear, would produce blindness in another; the same effluvia which one animal would not notice, would guide another over trackless wastes in search of friend or foe. I therefore maintain, that the mere material examination of the living organs of animals can no more tend to illustrate their vital principle, than the keenest anatomical labours can enable us to attain a knowledge of the nature of our immortal and imperishable parts.
I shall enter still more minutely into this subject. In the barbarous experiments to which I allude, animals bearing the strongest resemblance to man (at least in their conformation, for Heaven, in its mercy, did not gift them with what we callmind) are usually selected amongst such as possess a heart with four cavities, and double lungs. The dog—the natural companion of man, his most faithful friend in weal and woe, the guardian of his couch and property, the protector of his infants, the only mourner o’er the pauper’s grave!—dogs, are in general selected for the scientific shambles; and this for obvious reasons,—they are more easily procured, and at acheaper rate; moreover, they are moremanageable and unresisting under the mangling scalpel. Well, thousands of these creatures have been starved to death with butter, sugar, and oil, to prove that they must die in all the aggravated pangs of hunger,—pangs producing ulcerated eyes, blindness, staggers, parched up organs, unless their food contains azote. Will any one maintain, that a similar nourishment would produce similar effects on man? Certainly not. The one was created by nature to consume animal substances highly azotized; the other, from the transition of life to which he is born to be exposed, is essentially polyphagous.
Then, again, millions of animals have had their bones broken, scraped, bruised in every possible manner, to discover the process of the formation of bone, calledOsteogeny: has a single fracture of a human limb been more rapidly consolidated by these experiments, which fill hundreds of pages in the works of Duhamel, Haller, Scarpa, and other physiologists? Animals will digest substances that would kill a human being—have the experiments in which their palpitating stomach and intestines have been torn from them, lacerated, pricked, cut, separated from their surrounding vessels and nerves, increased our means of relieving the dyspepsia of the sensualist, the surfeit of the glutton, or the nausea of the dissolute? On the other hand, the gin, the ardent spirits in which the drunkard wallows, would soon destroy what we think proper to call abrute!
In many animals, moreover, there is a tenacity of life—highly convenient to the physiologist, since it enables him to prolong his experimental cruelties—which man does not possess; and we find the electric fluid acting much longer upon their muscles even after death, than on a human body or its severed limbs.
Another point to be considered is the assertion of the advantages to be derived from contemplating the living viscera in a healthy state. Good God! a healthy state!—what a mockery, what a perversion of language! Behold the dog, stolen from his master—(for theft is encouraged to supply the man of science—and theft of the worst character, since it is of the most cruel nature;—our goods, our money, may be restored, replaced by industry, but what hand can restore the faithful companion of our solitude, whose looks seem to study our thoughts! left us perhaps by the lost one of our heart, symbol of that fidelity which death alone abridged!) the poor animal hungry, chained up for days and nights pining for his lost master, is led to the butchery. Still he looksup for compassion to man, his natural protector, licks the very hand that grasps him until his feeble limbs are lashed to the table! In vain he struggles—in vain he expresses his sufferings and his fears in piteous howls: a muzzle is buckled on to stifle his troublesome cries, and his concentrated groans heave his agonized breast in convulsive throes, until the scalpel is plunged in his helpless extended body! His blood flows in torrents, his very heart is exposed to the torturer’s searching hand, and nerves which experience anguish from a mere breath of air, are lacerated with merciless ingenuity,—and this is a healthy state! The viscera exposed to atmospheric influence are already parched, and have lost their natural colour, and not a single function is performed in normal regularity. One only effort is natural until vital power is exhausted—a vain instinctive resistance against his butchers!—The heart sickens at such scenes, when cruelty that would bid defiance to the savage’s vindictive barbarity, sacrifices thousands of harmless beings at the shrine of vanity. For let the matter not be mistaken—these experiments are mostly made to give an appearance of verisimilitude to the most absurd and visionary doctrines; and if a proof were required of this assertion, it can be easily obtained by reading the works of various physiologists at different periods, who all drawdifferentdeductions fromsimilarfacts. For when the mind labours under a certain impression, or a reputation is founded upon the support of a doctrine, these facts are distorted with Procrustean skill to suit the views of the experimentalist.
Let us, for instance, consider the subject of digestion, to ascertain the nature of which, thousands—millions of animals have been ripped up alive. This practice has been attributed tocoction, toelixation, tofermentation, toputrefaction, totrituration, tomaceration, todissolution, and to many other shades and shadows of similar theories; and were additional millions of living victims sacrificed in further scientific hecatombs, posterity may deem our present vain glorious physiologists as ignorant of the matter as they might consider their numerous predecessors in the same career of groping curiosity. Has the cruel extraction of the spleen from a thousand dogs to show that they could live without that viscous, explained the nature of its functions, or enabled us more successfully to control its obstinate diseases?
We know nothing of the phenomena of life; all our functions are regulated by an allwise Power that sets at naught humanpresumption—and Hippocrates justly called this harmonic organization aconcensus, or a circle, in which we could not discover the commencement or the end.
There does however exist one course of experiments which probably might prove beneficial to mankind. The search of antidotes to various poisons that are too frequently administered by criminal hands; but here again experiments fall short of our expectations, for these substances act differently upon different animals, and even to some the prussic acid in large doses may be given with impunity. But I affirm, and can prove it, that in ninety-nine cases out of one hundred, in which such substances are given to animals, it is not with a view to discover antidotes, but to ascertain, according to the unfortunate creature’s species, size, and condition, how long he can linger under the pangs of the poison, or what is the dose sufficient to occasion death. Of what benefit can it be to humanity to know that thirty drops of hydro-cyanic acid destroys dogs and cats in the space of six, twelve, or fifteen minutes; that twenty-six drops kill a rabbit in three minutes; that one drop introduced into the bill of a sparrow deprives it of life in eleven minutes; that a duck takes fifteen drops to put an end to its convulsive struggles; and that the exposing animals to the influence of hydro-cyanic acid gas destroys them in two, four, six, eight, and ten seconds? What benefit does society reap from the knowledge that, after the most excruciating suffering, a dog died in five hours after having taken half an ounce of tobacco, and that another ill-fated canine victim in whose limbs tobacco had been introduced, died of paralysis and in horrible convulsions in about an hour? Were antidotes sought in the thousands of similar cases that I could adduce? Certainly not—the experiments merely went to ascertain the power of the drug, and the only possible good that could have resulted from the barbarous trial, was the appearance of the viscera after death; a fact that one experiment could demonstrate as well as one thousand—but which could be more effectually exhibited in human creatures who died from the effects of deleterious substances. In short, these experiments are nothing more than cold calculations on the tenacity of life in various individuals. Every one knows that arsenic and prussic acid destroy life, and surely such an assertion on the part of a lecturer to his pupils should satisfy them on this head without having recourse to illustrations of the fact. In the case of supposed poison introduced into alimentary substances,and which are given to dogs to prove the criminal act, surely chemistry is not so little advanced in its boasted progress, not to be able to afford us a test of the presence of poison, without having recourse to so savage an expedient.
Another most absurd argument has been upheld in favour of these experiments in the presence of pupils, that of hardening their feelings in the contemplation of acute sufferings. This assertion is worse than idle and absurd; many of our most able surgeons and anatomists have never practised these cruelties, and yet their nerves have not been unstrung during the most fearful operations. With hands imbrued in blood I have performed the arduous duties of my profession in fourteen battles, yet I never couldwitnessthese heartless exhibitions without disgust, and I am sorry to say contempt. I am aware that these sentiments have been calledpulingprofessions of humanity; nay, that there are men and women who would weep bitterly over the sufferings of a sick pet, while they would view accumulated human misery unmoved. These are painful anomalies arising too frequently in disappointed minds, when the cup of life has been imbittered by ingratitude, and the “milk of human kindness” curdled by deceit. These are not reasons to prevent us from censuring acts of cruelty, when they may be considereduselessin a scientific point of view, anddegradingto mankind in regard to private feelings. I can readily believe that the best and the most humane of men, may be induced by an ardent desire to elucidate obscure parts of physiologic inquiry, to try such experiments; but most undoubtedly—unless the object to be so attained was commensurate with the sacrifice and abnegation of humane sentiments, I should deeply lament their obduracy, and be inclined to doubt their benevolence towards their fellow-creatures.
I would not enter on my list of friends(Though graced with polish’d manners, and fine sense,Yet wanting sensibility), the manWho needlessly sets foot upon a worm.An inadvertent step may crush the snailThat crawls at evening in the public path;But he that hath humanity forewarnedWill tread aside, and let the reptile live.
In fine, whenever it is not evident that such practices can benefit mankind and increase our means of reducing the sum of human misery—it is a barbarous and criminal abuse of that power which the Creator has given us over the inferiorgrades of animated beings; and it is deeply to be lamented that no legislative measures can be adopted to restrain it, if it cannot be altogether prohibited. At any rate, professors alone should be allowed the “indulgence,” but in no instance should such pseudo-scientific practices become a public exhibition or a student’s pastime. Brought up in early life, amidst all the complicated horrors of a revolution, I have been sadly convinced that the contagion ofCRUELTYis much more doubtless and active than that ofPESTILENCE!
THE END.
WHITING, BEAUFORT HOUSE STRAND.
Footnotes:
[1]During these ten years the following works appeared:
Montesquieu—Esprit des Lois, 1748.—— Défense de l’Esprit des Lois, 1750.Rousseau—Discours sur l’Influence des Sciences et des Lettres, 1750.—— Discours sur l’Inégalité des Conditions, 1754.Voltaire—Essai sur les Mœurs et l’Esprit des nations, 1757.Condillac—Essai sur l’Origine des Connaissances Humaines, 1746.—— Traité des Sensations, 1754.Helvétius—De l’Esprit, 1758.
[2]TheHomo diluvii testis, the skeleton of which was described by Scheuchzer, was considered by Cuvier to have belonged to a species of Salamander.
[3]For the further illustration of this curious subject, Dr. Eliotson’s valuable notes on Blumenbach may be consulted to advantage.
[4]The dream of Ertucules seems to have been connected with similar phantasies. “I dreamed, venerable sir,” said he to Edebales, “that the brightness of the moon did proceed from your bosom, and thence afterwards did pass into mine: when it was thither come, there sprung up a tree from my umbilic, which overshadowed at once many nations, mountains, and valleys. From the root of this tree there issued waters sufficient to irrigate vines and gardens; and then both my dream and my sleep forsook me.” Edebales after some pause thus answered: “There will be born unto you, my good friend, a son whose name shall be Osman; he shall wage many wars, and shall acquire victory and glory; and my daughter must be married to your son Osman, and she is the brightness which you saw come from my bosom into yours, and from both sprung up the tree.”—Lips. Marsil.
[5]Vide the article “Enthusiasm.”
[6]The chœnix contained a pint.
[7]These lines afford a convincing proof of the minute attention the ancients paid to the phenomena of nature. Our poet had no doubt observed the frequent effect of the application of cold to the surface of the body producing a reaction in the circulation tending to overcome the noxious agent by a glow of heat, which in many instances of predisposition may assume a febrile character.
[8]A Treatise on Insanity.
[9]Pallido il SolandPer quanto dolce amplassoof Hasse.
[10]Much curious matter will be found in Mr. Nathan’s valuable work upon music, entitled, “Musurgia vocalis.”
[11]That animals are more frequently guided by the sense of smelling than by sight, is evident in those plants that shed a cadaverous effluvia, especially thearum dracunculusand thestapelia variegataof the Cape, which attract various insects that usually deposit their eggs in a stercoraceous or corrupt nidus. Here these insects have been deceived by vision, and imagined in their illusion that they had safely lodged their progeny in carrion.
[12]According to Ælian, the presence of this fish indicated the approaching overflow of the Nile.
[13]The Irish, in their metaphorical language, give a corporeal form to foul effluvia, and one of them assured me that he had a terrier who would always cock up his tail and bark whenever hesawa stink.
[14]Diodorus, Strabo, and other ancient writers, state that the beer of the Egyptians calledZythuswas scarcely inferior to wine. This beer was made with barley, to which was added the lupin, the skirret, and the root of an Assyrian plant. We find the following in Columella:
“Jam siser, Assyriaque venit quæ semine radixSectaque præbetur madido satiata lupino,Ut Pelusiaci proviset pocula zythi.”
The vicinity of Pelusium was famed for this beverage and its lentils.
[15]Diemerbrook states that, in the Plague of Nimeguen all those who were taken ill about new and full moon rarely escaped.
[16]Dr. Desgenettes, physician to the French army, in order to inspire confidence among the troops, inoculated himself twice without experiencing any other consequence than a slight inflammation of the inoculated parts. Sonnini mentions a Russian surgeon, who was a prisoner in Constantinople with a number of his countrymen, and who took it into his head to inoculate his comrades, with a view of protecting them from the contagion; but, unfortunately, two hundred of them died, and, fortunately perhaps for the survivors, the operator himself died of his own treatment.
[17]On this subject see what has been already said in the preceding article ofFood, its use and abuse, in Dr. Beaumont’s experiments.
[18]Otway.
[19]Shaftesbury.
[20]Oil is, however, a useful application to wounds in warm climates. During the retreat of our troops after the battle of Talavera, I found the wounds of many of our men, that had not been dressed for three or four days, pullulating with maggots. This was not the case with the Spanish soldiers, who, to prevent this annoyance (which was more terrific than dangerous), had poured olive oil upon their dressings. I invariably resorted to the same practice when I subsequently had to remove the wounded in hot weather.
[21]A Hebrew proverb originating from a tradition that Abraham wore a precious stone round his neck, which preserved him from disease, and which cured sickness when looked upon. When Abraham died, God placed this stone in the sun.
[22]The ancients considered the spleen the seat of mirth, and the liver the organ of love; hence their old proverb.
[23]Cordia Sebestena; according to some, theC. Myxa L., a species of Egyptian date. It was formerly employed as a demulcent. A viscid black glue was also prepared from it, and exported in considerable quantities from Alexandria.
[24]Quod Cæretani totum orbem vano quodam ac turpi superstitionum genere ludificantes continuò peregrinantur, familia domi relicta.
[25]Patin called itl’impertinente nouveauté du siécle.
[26]The priesthood in thus stigmatizing the medical profession so soon as its practice ceased to be their exclusive privilege, displayed the same spirit of intolerance and thirst for omnipotent sway that characterized their anathemas on the drama when they no longer were the authors, actors, and managers of their own sacrilegious plays, which they called mysteries and moralities. Previously to the drama becoming the pursuit of laymen, the monkish exhibitions had been so holy, that one of the popes granted a pardon of one thousand days to every person who went to the plays performed in the Whitsun week, beginning with a piece called “The Creation,” and ending the season with the performance of “The General Judgment.” In these representations the performers belonged to various corporations, and acted under the direction of the clergy. “The Creation” was performed by theDrapers,—“The Deluge” by theDyers,—“Abraham, Melchizedek, and Lot,” by our friends theBarbers,—“The Purification” by theBlacksmiths,—“The Last Supper” by theBakers,—“The Resurrection” by theSkinners,—and “The Ascension” by theTailors.
The following curious anecdotes are recorded in the description of a mystery performed at Veximel, near Metz, by the order of Conrad Bayer, bishop of the diocese. This play was calledThe Passion; and it appears that by some mismanagement a priest by the name of Jean de Nicey, curate of Métrange, who played Judas, was nigh meeting with an untimely end; for his neck had slipped and tightened the noose by which he was suspended to the tree, and, had he not been cut down, he would have performed the part most effectually.
A play was acted in one of the principal cities in England by these clerical performers, representing the terrestrial Paradise, when Adam and Eve made their appearance entirely naked.
[27]Mr. J. A. St. John.
[28]As this worthy never took off his cuirass, it may be shrewdly suspected that his lashes were such as our old friend Sancho Pança inflicted on the tree.
[29]The diseases to which the blood is subject was another ground upon which the vitality of this fluid was founded. The most remarkable kind of diseased blood is that which occurs in cholera, where it is dark, nearly black, even in the arteries. The cause of this phenomenon is by no means decided. Dr. Thomson attributes it to a diseased condition of the blood, which unfits it for being duly arterialised. Dr. O’Shaughnessy denies the assertion, and proves that choleric blood can be rendered florid by the absorption of oxygen. Dr. Stevens, in his treatise on the blood, attributes this dark appearance to the contagion of the malady, which throws the fluids into a morbid state, the effect of which is the diminution of the saline matter which the healthy blood contains. He observed that in cholera-hospitals the blood of all the persons residing in them was also dark. It is, however, more than probable that this morbid condition of the blood arises from the deranged state of the circulation, and may be attributed to a disease of the solids, which must invariably affect the fluids that they propel with more or less energy, flowing in a rapid current, or in a sluggish stream.
I have fully illustrated this want of oxygen in the blood of cholera patients in a work I published in Bordeaux, in 1831, entitledObservations sur la nature et le traitement du Cholera Morbus d’Europe et d’Asie; and, from several experiments subsequently made on cholera patients, I feel convinced that the inspiration of oxygen gas will be ultimately found the most energetic and effective practice in combating this fearful disease.
By the experiments lately made by Dr. Donné of Paris, it has been found that the globules of blood, when submitted to microscopic examination, varied in magnitude according to the description of animals from which it was drawn. In certain diseases, globules of pus have also been detected in the sanguiferous stream. They were larger than those of the blood, and, instead of being defined by a marginal line, were fringed on their circumference, and their centre was striated with interwoven lines.
The same physiologist discovered animalcules in the pus of certain ulcers not dissimilar in appearance to thevibrio lineolaof Müller. Other animalcules, which he has named thetricomonas vaginalis, were also found in great number when the mucous membranes of the organ (whence the latter part of their denomination was derived) were in a state of inflammation. These animalculi could not be detected in healthy mucus. The knowledge of this influence of inflammation may lead to many important practical results.
[30]During the horrors of the French Revolution, various experiments were made by Sue and other physiologists to ascertain if the bodies of the guillotined victims possessed sensibility. No conclusion, however, could be elicited from these inquiries, which gave rise to many absurd tales, such as that the face of Charlotte Corday blushed when the executioner slapped it, as he held it out to the enraptured Parisians.
[31]Organon, xxxii.
[32]Op. cit. xxxi.
[33]Ibid. xxxiii.
[34]Op. cit. xxxviii.
[35]Organon, xl. This will be found to be the case in all diseases that are dissimilar; the stronger suspends the weaker, except in case of complication, which is a rare occurrence in acute diseases, but they never cure each other reciprocally.
[36]On Chronic Diseases. Translation of Begel, p. 107.
[37]Sir Gilbert Blane’s Medical Logic.
[38]Organon, v.
[39]Ibid. vi.
[40]Sir G. Blane.
[41]The celebrated Boyle used to apply to his wrists for the same purpose, the moss that grew from a human skull.
[42]The term that designated magnetic manipulation.
[43]Since the first edition of this work was published, animal magnetism has become the subject of much controversy and animadversion in London and various parts of the empire. The utmost virulence has as usual been resorted to, not only to impugn the doctrine, but to stigmatize its supporters; while, on the other hand, the greatest ingenuity has been displayed to convince unbelievers, and to give to the many experiments practised for this purpose the semblance of undeniable facts. Baron Dupotet’s labours and publications have been submitted to the test of a public investigation; while Dr. Elliotson and several other practitioners have aided the practice apparently with success. It would be foreign to the nature of this work to consider this matter more elaborately; it is now before the tribunal of public opinion, whose decision we must await.
[44]Inquiries concerning the Intellectual Powers, &c.
[45]That serious accidents might have resulted from the use of hellebore is most likely, since various plants resembling it have been mistaken for it; chiefly theadonis vernalis,trollius Europæus,actæa spicata,astrantia major,veratrum album, and theaconitum neomontanum, the last of which is a most virulent poison.
[46]The advocates of fasting have calculated that in one hundred and fifty-two hermits who had lived eleven thousand five hundred and eighty-nine years, the average age was seventy three years and three months.
[47]On this very curious subject the reader may consult the various statistical works of Quetelet.
[48]It is somewhat strange, but in the mountains of the South of Spain, there does still exist a dance calledlos Titanos, in which the performers raise their hands in threatening attitude against the heavens!
[49]The matter of insensible perspiration is calculated at being daily equal weight to one half of the food.
[50]Madder, when given to animals tinges the surface of their bones with a red hue.
[51]The life of J. E. Jenner, M.D. &c., by John Bacon, M.D. &c.
[52]History of Egyptian Mummies, &c. &c., 1834.
[53]In a work on the “Anatomy of the Passions,” which I am about publishing, I have entered most minutely into this important sympathy.