Part 2

Dr. Rush says:—

“We have multiplied diseases—we have done more, we have increased their mortality.”

The celebrated Dr. Bailie, who enjoyed, it appears, a long and lucrative practice, declared at the termination of his career, “that he had no faith in physic;” and on his death-bed frequently exclaimed, “I wish I could be sure that I have not killed more than I have cured.”

Abernethy observes sarcastically,

“There has been a great increase of medical men of late years, but upon my life, diseases have increased in proportion.”

The British and Foreign Quarterly Journal—the leading advocate of drug medication—thus writes:—

“This mode of treating disease (Hydropathy) is unquestionably far from inert, and most opposed to the cure of diseases, by the undisturbed processes of nature. It in fact perhaps affords the very best evidence we possess of the curative power of art, and is unquestionably when rationally regulated a most effective mode of treatment in many diseases. Still it puts in a striking light, if not exactly the curative powers of nature, at least the possibility—nay, facility—with which all the ordinary instruments of medical cure, drugs, may be dispensed with. If so many and such various diseases get well entirely without drugs, under one special mode of treatment, is it not more than probable, that a treatment consisting almost exclusively of drugs may be often of non-effect—sometimes of injurious effect?”

Dr. Headland, in his prize essay on the action of medicines on the system, thus writes:—

“On no question perhaps have scientific men differed more than on the theory of the action of medicines. Either facts, essentially opposed and incompatible, have been adduced by the disagreeing parties, or which is nearly as common, the same fact has received two distinct and opposite interpretations.”

Such quotations as the above, which might be multiplied ad infinitum, by any student of medical lore, show that enquiry is abroad amongst the medical profession, and that some at least of its members are dissatisfied with the truth of the system which would consider drug medication as an essential instrument in the cure of disease.

The following remarks by Dr. Maclæoud, contained in a letter written by him to Professor Simpson of Edinburgh, show at least, that if the lay public place confidence in allopathic drugging, they place their faith in a system which does not command the confidence of physicians themselves.

“Formerly there were several wards in the Edinburgh Royal Infirmary, of which three Fellows of the Royal College of Physicians had the charge. One physician had the top ward, another the middle ward, and a third the low ward. It happened that on the same day, three young persons of nearly the same age, ill of typhus fever, were admitted into the hospital. The disease was of equal severity in each, and the stage of complaint the same in all. What was the treatment pursued in those three cases, by the three Fellows of the College? Of course, it should have been the same, at least, if the system be correct; for the physicians in question would choose the best. But, sir, it was not the same. He in the top ward bled his patient with lancet and leeches. He in the middle ward treated his patient with drastic purgatives. He in the low ward, again, gave whiskey, wine, and opiates. What was the result of such deplorable freaks? I refer you to the statistic book; I have no doubt you will find it there!”

“In the University formerly, two professors used to lecture, on alternate days, on clinical medicine. It happened once that each had, at the same time, under his care an acute case of pericarditis. The professor who lectured on his case on Monday night, said in substance, as follows:—

“Gentlemen.—As to the treatment of this disease, it has been the practice to give large doses of mercury, so as to bring the constitution under its action, and to effect this as rapidly as possible, small quantities of opium are usually combined with it. The practice I, however, believe to be erroneous; for I have observed the progress of the disease unchecked, even during profuse salivation. The most efficient remedy—in fact our sheet-anchor—in this disease is tartar emetic. You will have noticed the large doses I have given of this remedy, and yet the patient seems not to suffer from it. In fact, the constitution in this disease, as in some others, has a remarkable tolerance for tartar emetic.”

“When the lecture was finished, I left the hall fancying I had heard some great truth, and knew better than an hour before how to save life. On Wednesday evening, during the same week, in the same hall, and to the same students, the other professor lectured. The lecture was devoted to the acute case of pericarditis under his care in the hospital. After describing the case, and giving a sketch of the character and progress of the disease, he spoke in substance, as follows:—

“Gentlemen.—It is a remarkable thing that there should be any difference in regard to the mode of treatment to be pursued in a disease such as this, I believe it is the Italian and French schools which advocate so very strongly the employment of tartar emetic; but I would strongly urge you to put no confidence in this remedy, for if you do so, you will lean on a broken reed. Our sheet-anchor in this disease is mercury; under the action of which you must bring the patient as soon and as freely as you possibly can—even bleeding is of little importance in comparison with the use of mercury. The two combined, i.e., mercury and blood-letting is, of course, best; but at all events use mercury, and never trust to tartar emetic.

“Thus doctors differ and the patient dies.”

As in the theatrical world a peep behind the scenes destroys the illusion of the piece, so in the real world such revelations as the foregoing, are well calculated to stagger thoughtful minds, and to shake to the centre a blind and unreasoning faith in the allopathic system.

Does not the reflection suggest itself on reading such a revelation as the above—since it is impossible that the practice of both these learned professors can be right, is it not possible that the practice of both may be wrong?

That eminent physician, the late Sir Philip Crampton, was in the habit of warning all his gouty and rheumatic patients to avoid the use of colchicum, terming it a “desperate remedy,” and affirming that it was better to bear any amount of pain than have recourse to it. This was the deliberate opinion of one of the most able men in his profession, who must have been fully impressed with a conviction of its injurious effects; yet this remedy is continued to be prescribed to thousands, with what result let those who have experienced it testify. Here then again is a serious disagreement in practice between members of the medical profession, in which one party must again be wrong. If those who use colchicum are to be ranged amongst the latter, where our own sufferings under it would place them, their victims may well be pitied. If colchicum be not a poisonous drug, why did Sir Philip Crampton so strongly inveigh against it? If it be, can that system be right which prescribes it as a remedy? Such is the system termed orthodox, styling all who presume to differ from it quacks.

Before we proceed to inquire whether any escape is open to us from this unsatisfactory state of affairs—whether any system has been discovered more intelligible in its principles and more certain in its action, whose professors are found to agree in their practice, instead of maintaining opinions directly opposed to each other—we would respectfully address a few words to those whom we have often heard exclaiming, “I cannot believe that a system which has existed so long as the allopathic can be wrong; if it were, it would long since have been exposed and its errors refuted. No; when I reflect how long it has existed, I cannot but believe it is right.” To such we will merely say that we charitably hope they do not call this exclamation an argument, and that if they reflected for a moment they ought to remember numberless instances where error has existed for centuries unrefuted, and acquiesced in by all mankind; that on their principle error ought to prevail in exact proportion to its greatness, since the oldest errors are the earliest, and the earliest are, generally speaking, the greatest, the infancy of every science being its most imperfect stage. According to them, we should at present believe that the sun moves round the earth, because this doctrine prevailed for upwards of 5,000 years, and “if it had been wrong it could not have existed so long.” If such persons studied human nature better, they would acknowledge the truth of Horace’s lines, especially when applied to the medical profession, who, with some honourable exceptions, have on every occasion opposed all innovation on their system with the most uncompromising hostility—

“Vel quia nil rectum, nisi quod placuit sibi, ducunt, Vel quia turpe putant parere minoribus et. quæ Imberbes didicere, senes perdenda fateri;”

an hostility which can only be ascribed to the effects of professional habit and prejudice. In such a profession reform must be brought about by the action of an enlightened public opinion, which, unwarped by prejudice and unfettered by professional trammels, is free to perceive truth, and hold to it when discovered. When the public take the lead, the medical profession will “move on,” but not before. We are sorry to be forced to make these observations, but we appeal to the history of the medical profession past and present, and to the observation of our readers, in confirmation of their truth.

Sir Bulwer Lytton has well observed:—

“A little reflection taught me that the members of a learned profession are naturally the very persons least disposed to favour innovation upon the practices which custom and prescription have rendered sacred in their eyes. A lawyer is not the person to consult upon bold reforms in jurisprudence. A physician can scarcely be expected to own that hydropathy will cure diseases that have resisted an armament of vials.”

On looking about us for some therapeutic system more satisfactory than the allopathic, simpler in its principles and more consonant with the laws of nature, we select for examination hydropathy, on account of the great success which has attended its practice, the simplicity and rationality of its processes, and the high recommendations it has received from several eminent men, amongst which we extract the following. Mr. Herbert Mayo, Senior Surgeon of the Middlesex Hospital, speaking of hydropathy, thus expresses himself:—

“It (hydropathy) more than doubles our power of doing good. Of course it will meet with much opposition, but none, come from quarter it may, can possibly prevent its progress, and its taking firm root. It is like Truth, not to be subverted.”

Sir Charles Scudamore, M.D., records his opinion as follows:—