Chapter V: Part 5

A professional wrestler, who was unsuccessful, in his profession, met Diogenes, the cynic, as we are told, by Diog. Laertius, in Vita, lib. vi. p. 60, and told him, that he had given up wrestling, and taken to physic--"_Well done_," said the philosopher, "_now thou wilt be able to throw those, who have thrown thee_."

The revolutions, which took place, in the practice of the healing art, previously to the period, when Pliny composed his Natural History, are certainly remarkable. Chrysippus, as far as he was able, overthrew the system of Hippocrates; Erasistratus overthrew the system of Chrysippus; the Empirics, or experimentalists, overthrew, to the best of their ability, the system of Erasistratus; Herophilus did the very same thing, for the Empirics; Asclepiades turned the tables, upon Herophilus; Vexius Valens next came into vogue, as the leader of a sect; then Thessalus, in Nero's age, opposed all previous systems; the system of Thessalus was overthrown by Crinas of Marseilles; and so on, to the end of the chapter--which chapter, by the way, somewhat resembles the first chapter of Matthew, substituting the word _overthrew_ for the word _begat_.

Water doctors certainly existed, in those ancient days. After Crinas, says Pliny, cap. 5, of the same book, there came along one--_damnatis non solum prioribus medicis, verum, et balineis; frigidaque etiam hibernis algoribus lavari persuasit. Mergit aegros in lacus. Videbamus senes consulares usque in ostentationem rigentes. Qua de re exstat etiam Annaei Senecae stipulatio. Nec dubium est omnes istos famam novitate aliqua aucupantes anima statim nostra negotiari._ Condemning not only all former physicians, but the baths, then in use, he persuaded his patients to use cold water, during the rigors of winter. He plunged sick folks in ponds. We have seen certain aged, consular gentlemen, freezing themselves, from sheer ostentation. We have the personal statement of Annaeus Seneca, in proof of this practice. Nor can it be doubted, that those quacks, greedily seeking fame, by the production of some novelty, would readily bargain away any man's life, for lucre. The statement of Seneca, to which Pliny refers, may be found in Seneca's letters, 53, and 83, both to Lucilius; in which he tells his friend, that, according to his old usage, he bathed in the Eurypus, upon the Kalends of January.

It would be easy to fill a volume, with the railings of such peevish philosophers, as Michael De Montaigne, against all sorts of physic and physicians. We are very apt to treat doctors and deities, in the same way--to scoff at them, in health, and fly to them, in sickness.

That was a pertinent question of Cicero's, lib. i. de Divinatione, 14. _An Medicina, ars non putanda est, quam tamen multa fallunt? * * * num imperatorum scientia nihil est, quia summus imperator nuper fugit, amisso exercitu? Aut num propterea nulla est reipublicae gerendae ratio atque, prudentia, quia multa Cn. Pompeium, quaedam Catonem, nonnulla etiam te ipsum fe fellerunt?_ As to medicine shall it be accounted not an art, because of the great uncertainty therein? What, then, is there no such thing as military skill, because a great commander lately fled, and lost his army? Can there be no such thing as a wise and prudent government, because Pompey has been often mistaken, even Cato sometimes, and yourself, now and then?

If much more than all, that has been proclaimed, were true, in regard to the uncertainty of the healing art, still the practice of seeking some kind of counsel and assistance, whenever a screw gets loose, in our tabernacle of the flesh, is not likely to go out of fashion. What shall we do? Follow the tetotum doctor, and swallow a purge, if P. come uppermost? This is good evidence of our faith, in the doctrine of uncertainty. Or shall we go for the doctor, who works the cheapest? There is no reason, why we should not cheapen our physic, if we cheapen our salvation; for pack horses of all sorts, lay and clerical, are accounted the better workers, when they are rather low in flesh. Or shall we follow the example of the mutual admiration society, and get up a mutual physicking association? Most men are pathologists, by intuition. I have been perfectly astonished to find how many persons, especially females and root doctors, know just what ails their neighbors, upon the very first hint of their being out of order, without even seeing them.

It is a curious fact, that, while men of honor, thoroughly educated, and who have devoted their whole lives, to the study and practice of the healing art, candidly admit its uncertainty, the ignorant and unprincipled of the earth alone, who have impudently resorted to the vocation, suddenly, and as an antidote to absolute starvation, boast of their infallibility, and deal in nothing, but panaceas. The fools, in this pleasant world, are such a respectable and wealthy minority, that the charlatan will not cease from among us, until the last of mortals shall have put on immortality: and then, like the fellow, who entered Charon's boat, with his commodities, he will try to smuggle some of his patent medicines, or _leetil doshes_, into the other world.

A curious illustration of the popular notion, that no man is guilty of any presumptuous sin, merely because, after lying down, at night, a notorious _pedler_ or _tinker_, he rises, in the morning, a _physician_, may be found, in the fact, that a watchmaker, who would laugh at a tailor, should he offer to repair a timekeeper, will readily confide in him, as a physician, for himself, his wife, or his child.

The most delicate female will sometimes submit her person, to the rubbings and manipulations of a blacksmith, in preference to following the prescriptions of a regular physician. A respectable citizen, with a pimple on the end of his nose, resembling, upon the testimony of a dozen old ladies, in the neighborhood, the identical cancer, of which every one of them was cured, by the famous Indian doctress, in Puzzlepot Alley, will, now and then, give his confidence to a lying, ignorant, half-drunken squaw, rather than to the most experienced member of the medical profession.

Suffer me to close this imperfect sketch, with the words of Lord Bacon, vol. i. page 120, Lond. 1824. "We see the weakness and credulity of men is such, as they will often prefer a mountebank or witch, before a learned physician. And therefore the poets were clear-sighted, in discerning this extreme folly, when they made AEsculapius and Circe brother and sister. For, in all times, in the opinion of the multitude, witches, and old women, and impostors have had a competition with physicians. And what followeth? Even this, that physicians say, to themselves, as Solomon expresseth it, upon a higher occasion, _If it befall to me, as befalleth to the fools, why should I labor to be more wise?_"

No. CXI.

Van Butchell, the fistula-doctor, in London, some forty years ago, had a white horse, and he painted the animal, with many colored spots. He also wore an enormous beard. These tricks were useful, in attracting notice. In the Harleian Miscellany, vol. viii. page 135, Lond. 1810, there is a clever article on quackery, published in 1678, from which I will extract a passage or two, for the benefit of the fraternity: "Any sexton will furnish you with a skull, in hope of your custom; over which hang up the skeleton of a monkey, to proclaim your skill in anatomy. Let your table be never without some old musty Greek or Arabic author, and the fourth book of Cornelius Agrippa's Occult Philosophy, wide open, with half a dozen gilt shillings, as so many guineas, received, that morning for fees. Fail not to oblige neighboring ale-houses to recommend you to inquirers; and hold correspondence with all the nurses and midwives near you, to applaud your skill at gossippings. The admiring patient shall cry you up for a scholar, provided always your nonsense be fluent, and mixed with a disparagement of the college, graduated doctors, and book-learned physicians. Pretend to the cure of all diseases, especially those, that are incurable."

There are gentlemen of the medical and surgical professions, whose high reputation, for science and skill, is perfectly established, and who have humanely associated their honorable names with certain benevolent societies. Such is the fact, in regard to Dr. John Collins Warren, who, by his adoption of the broad ground of total abstinence from all intoxicating liquors, as a beverage, by men in health, and by his consistent practice and example, has become entitled to the grateful respect of every well-wisher of the temperance cause. To the best of my ability, I have long endeavored to do, for the sextons, the very thing, which that distinguished man would accomplish for the doctors, and other classes. Never did mortal more certainly oppose his own interest, than a physician, or a sexton, who advocates the temperance reform.

There are, however, personages, in the medical profession, regulars, as well as volunteers, who cling to certain societies, with the paralyzing grasp of death--holding on to their very skirts, as boys cling behind our vehicles, _to get a cast_. The patronage and advocacy of some of these individuals are absolutely fatal. It may be surely affirmed of more than one of their number, _nihil tetigit quod non damnavit_.

I have long been satisfied, that, without a great increase of societies, it will be utterly impossible to satisfy the innumerable aspirants, for the offices of President, Vice President, &c., in our ambitious community. A sagacious, medical friend of mine, whose whole heart is devoted to the public service, and I am sorry to say it, to the injury of his wife and children, has handed me a list of several societies, for the want of which, he assures me, the citizens of Boston are actually suffering, at the present moment. For myself, I cannot pretend to judge of such matters. A publication of the list may interest the benevolent, and, possibly, promote the cause of humanity. I give it entire:--

A society, for soothing the feelings and relieving the apprehensions of criminals, especially midnight assassins.

A mutual relief society, in case of flatulent colic.

A society, for the diffusion of buttermilk, with funds to enable the visiting committee to place a full jug, in the hands of every man, woman and child, in the United States, upon the first Monday of every month.

A friendly cockroach-trap society.

A society, composed exclusively of medical men, without practice, for the destruction of sowbugs and pismires, throughout the Commonwealth.

A society, for the promotion of domestic happiness, with power to send for persons and papers.

A society, for elevating the standard of education, by introducing trigonometry into infant schools.

An association, for the gratuitous administration, to the poorer classes, by steam power, of anodyne clysters.

Let us return to the faculty. I am in favor of some peculiarity, in the dress and equipage of medical men. With the exception of certain stated hours, they cannot be found at home; and the case may be one of emergency. Van Butchell's spotted horse was readily distinguished, from Charing Cross to Temple Bar. This was very convenient for those, who were in quest of that remarkable leech. A small mast, abaft the vehicle, whether sulky, buggy, chariot, or phaeton, bearing the owner's private signal, would afford great public accommodation. There is nothing more nautical in such an arrangement, than in the use of the _killeck_, or small anchor, which many of the faculty regularly cast, when they are about to board a patient, and as regularly weigh, when they are about to take a new departure.

The bright yellow chariot of Dr. Benjamin Rush was universally known in Philadelphia, and its environs; and his peculiar features are not likely to escape from the memory of any man, who ever beheld them. These striking points were seized, by that arch villain, Cobbett, when he published his pictured libel, representing that eminent physician, looking out of his chariot window, with a label, proceeding from his mouth--_Bleed and purge all Kensington!_ Upon Cobbett's trial for this libel, Dr. Rush swore, that, by making him ridiculous, it had seriously affected his practice.

Dr. James Lloyd was easily discovered, by his large bay horse--take him for all in all--the finest harness gelding of his day, in Boston. With the eyes of a Swedenborgian, I see the good, old doctor now; and I hear the tramp of those highly polished, white topped boots; and I almost feel the lash of his horsewhip, around my boyish legs, rather too harshly administered, for mild practice however--but he was an able physician, and a gentleman--_factus ad unguem_. His remarkable courtliness of manner, arose, doubtless, in some degree, from his relation to the nobility. During the siege, General Howe and Lord Percy were his intimate friends; the latter was his tenant in 1775, occupying the Vassal estate, for which Dr. Lloyd was the agent, and which afterwards became the residence of the late Gardner Greene.

Dr. Danforth, who resided, in 1789, near the residence of Dr. Lloyd, on Pemberton's Hill, nearly opposite Concert Hall, and, subsequently, in Green Street, might be recognized, by the broad top of his chaise, and the unvarying moderation of the pace, at which he drove. He was tall and thin. His features were perfectly Brunonian. There seemed to be nothing antiphlogistic about him. When pleased, he was very gentlemanly, in his manner and carriage. He ever placed himself, with remarkable exactitude, in the very centre of his vehicle, bolt upright; and, with his stern expression, wrinkled features, remarkably aquiline nose, prominent chin, and broad-brimmed hat, appeared, even some fifty years ago, like a remnant of a by-gone age. He had been a royalist. His manners were occasionally rough and overbearing.

I remember to have told my mother, when a boy, that I should not like to take Dr. Danforth's physic. The character of his practice is, doubtless, well remembered, by those, who have taken his _divers_, as they were called, and lived to tell of it. The late Dr. Benjamin Waterhouse being interrogated, by some aged spinsters, as to the difference, between the practice of Dr. Danforth and his opponents, replied, that there were two ways of putting a disordered clock in tolerable condition--the first, by taking it apart, cleaning its various members of their dust and dirt, applying a little oil to the pivots, and attaching no other than its former weight; "and then," said he, "it will go very well, for a considerable time; and this we call the anti-Brunonian system."

The second method he described, as follows: "You are to take no pains about examining the parts; let the dust and dirt remain, by all means; apply no oil to the pivots; but hitch on three or four times the original weight, and you will be able to drag it along, after a fashion; and this is the Brunonian system." In this, the reader will recognize one of the pleasantries of Dr. Waterhouse, rather than an impartial illustration.

Dr. Isaac Rand, the son of Dr. Isaac Rand, of Charlestown, lived, in 1789, some sixty years ago, in Middle Street, just below Cross: in after years, he resided, till his death, in 1822, in Atkinson Street. He was a pupil of Dr. Lloyd. His liberalities to the poor became a proverb. The chaise, in which he practised, in his latter days, was a notable object. The width of it, though not equal to that of Solomon's temple, was several cubits. It became the property of the late Sheriff Badlam, who filled it to admiration. The mantle of Elijah was not a closer fit, upon the shoulders of Elisha.

Dr. Rand was an able physician, and a truly good man. He made rather a more liberal use of the learned terms of his profession, than was the practice of other physicians. With him, this arose from habit, and a desire to speak with accuracy, and not from affectation. Charles Austin was shot dead, in State Street, by Thomas O. Selfridge, August 4, 1806, in self-defence. Dr. Rand was a witness, at the trial; and his long and learned, professional terms, so completely confounded the stenographers, that they were obliged to beat the _chamade_, and humbly beg for plainer English.

I have more to say of these interesting matters, but am too near the boundary wall of my paper, to enter upon their consideration, at present.

No. CXII.

In my last number, I referred to three eminent physicians, of the olden time, Drs. Lloyd, Danforth, and Rand. Some sixty years ago, there were three and twenty physicians, in this city, exclusive of quacks. The residences of the three I have already stated. Dr. James Pecker resided, at the corner of Hanover and Friend Street--Thomas Bulfinch, in Bowdoin Square--Charles Jarvis, in Common Street--Lemuel Hayward, opposite the sign of the White Horse, in Newbury Street--Thomas Kast, in Fish Street, near the North Square--David Townsend, in Southack's Court--John Warren, next door to Cromwell's Head, in South Latin School Street, then kept by Joshua Brackett--Thomas Welsh, in Sudbury Street, near Concert Hall--William Eustis, in Sudbury Street, near the Mill Pond--John Homans, No. 6 Marlborough Street--John Sprague, in Federal Street--Nathaniel W. Appleton, in South Latin School Street, near the Stone Chapel--Joseph Whipple, in Orange Street--Aaron Dexter, in Milk Street, opposite the lower end of the rope walks, that were burnt, in the great fire, July 30, 1794--Abijah Cheever, in Hanover Street--William Spooner, in Cambridge Street--John Fleet, in Milk Street--Amos Winship, in Hanover Street--Robert Rogerson, in Ship Street--Alexander A. Peters, in Marlborough Street--John Jeffries, who, in 1776, went to Halifax, with the British garrison, did not return and resume practice in Boston, till 1790.

Ten years after, in 1799, the number had increased to twenty-nine, of whom nineteen were of the old guard of 1789.

In 1816, the number had risen to forty-three, of whom eight only were of 1789. In 1830, the number was seventy-five, two only surviving of 1789--Drs. William Spooner and Thomas Welsh.

In 1840, we had, in Boston, one hundred and twenty-two physicians, surgeons, and dentists, and a population of 93,383. There are now, in this physicky metropolis, according to the Directory, for 1848-9, physicians, of all sorts, not including those for the soul, but doctors, surgeons, dentists, regulars and quacks, of all colors and both sexes, 362. THREE HUNDRED AND SIXTY-TWO: an increase of two hundred and forty, in eight years. This is certainly encouraging. If 122 doctors are quite as many, as 93,383 Athenians ought to bear, 362 require about 280,000 patients, and such should be our population. Let us arrange this formidable host. At the very _tete d'armee_, marching left in front, we have seven _Female Physicians_, preceded by an _Indian doctress_--next in order, come the surgeon _Dentists_, seventy in number--then the main body, to whom the publisher of the Directory courteously and indiscriminately applies the title of _Physicians_, two hundred and fifty-seven, rank and file;--seven and twenty _Botanic Doctors_ bring up the rear! How appropriate, in the hand of the very last of this enormous _cortege_, would be a banner, inscribed with those well known words--GOD SAVE THE COMMONWEALTH OF MASSACHUSETTS!

I shall devote this paper to comparative statistics. In 1789, with twenty-three physicians in Boston, four less, than the present number of _botanic doctors_ alone, and three hundred and thirty-nine less, than the present number of regulars and pretenders, there were nine only of _our_ profession, regularly enrolled, as F. U., funeral undertakers, and placed upon a footing with the Roman _designatores_, or _domini funerum_. There were several others, who bore to our profession the same relation, which bachelors of medicine bear to theirs, and who were entitled to subscribe themselves D. G., diggers of graves. Yet in 1840, the year, which I take, as a _point d'appui_ for my calculations, there were only twenty, enrolled as F. U., with 362 medical operatives, busily at work, day and night, upon the insides and outsides of our fellow-citizens! Here is matter for marvel! How was it done? Did the dead bury the dead? I presume the solution lies, in the fact, that there existed an unrecorded number of those, who were D. G. only.

There were few dentists, _eo nomine_, some sixty years ago. Our ancestors appear to have gotten along pretty comfortably, in spite of their teeth. Many of those, who practised the "_dental art_," had so little employment, that it became convenient to unite their dental practice, with some other occupation. Thus John Templeman, was a _broker and dentist_, at the northeast corner of the Old State House. Whitlock was, doubtless, frequently called out, from a rehearsal, at the play house, to pull a refractory grinder. Isaac Greenwood advertises, in the Columbian Sentinel of June 1, 1785, not only his desire to wait upon all, who may require his services, at their houses, in the dental line; but a variety of umbrellas, canes, silk caps for bathing, dice, chess men, and cane for hoops and bonnets, by the dozen, or single stick. In the Boston Mercury of Jan. 6, 1797, W. P. Greenwood combines, with his dental profession, the sale of piano-fortes and guitars. In 1799, the registered dentists were three only, Messrs. Isaac and Wm. P. Greenwood, and Josiah Flagg. In 1816, there were three only, Wm. P. Greenwood, Thomas Parsons, and Thomas Barnes.

It would appear somewhat extravagant, perhaps, to state, that, including doctors of all sorts, there is a fraction more than two doctors to every one merchant, _eo nomine_, excluding commission merchants, of course, in the city of Boston. Such, nevertheless, appears to be the fact, unless Mr. Adams has made some important error, which I do not suspect, in his valuable Directory, for 1848-9.

It will not be utterly worthless, to contemplate the quartermaster's department of this portentous army; and compare it with the corresponding establishment of other times. In 1789, there were fifteen druggists and apothecaries, in the town of Boston. Examples were exceedingly rare, in those days, of wholesale establishments, exclusively dealing in drugs and medicines. At present, we have, in this city, eighty-nine apothecaries, doing business, in as many different places--drugs and medicines are also sold, at wholesale, in forty-four establishments--there are fourteen special depots, for the sale of patent medicines, Gordak's drugs, Indian purgatives, Holman's restorative, Brandreth's pills, Sherry wine bitters, and pectoral balsam, Graefenberg's medicines, and many other kinds of nastiness--eighteen dealers exclusively in botanic medicines--ninety-seven nurses--twenty-eight undertakers--and eight warehouses for the sale of coffins!

It is amusing, if nothing worse, to compare the relative increase, in the number of persons, who are, in various ways, employed about the sick, the dying, and the dead, in killing, or curing, or comforting, or burying, with the increase in some other crafts and callings. In 1789, there were thirty-one bakers, in Boston: there are now fifty-seven. The number has not doubled in sixty years. The number of doctors then, as I have stated, was twenty-three: now, charlatans included, it falls short, only six, of sixteen times that number.

There were then sixty-seven tailors' shops; there are now one hundred and forty-eight such establishments. There were then thirty-six barbers, hair-dressers, and wig-makers: there are now ninety-one. There were then one hundred and five cabinet-makers and carpenters: there are now three hundred and fifty. This ratio of comparison will, by no means, hold, in some other callings. There were then nine auctioneers: there are now fifty-two. There were then seven brokers, of all sorts: there are now two hundred and ten. The source from which I draw my information, is the Directory of 1789, "printed and sold by John Norman, at Oliver's Dock," and of which the writer speaks, in his preface, as "_this first attempt_." For want of sufficient designation, it is impossible, in this primitive work, to pick out the members of the legal profession. Compared with the present fraternity, whose name is legion, they were very few. There are more than three hundred and fifty practitioners of the law, in this city. In this, as in the medical profession, there are, and ever will be, _ex necessitate rei_, infernal scoundrels, and highly intelligent and honorable men--blind guides and safe counsellors. Not very long ago, a day of purification was appointed--some plan seemed to be excogitating, for the ventilation of the brotherhood. For once, they were gathered together, brothers, looking upon the features of brothers, and knowing them not. This was an occasion of mutual interest, and the arena was common ground--they came, some of them, doubtless, from strange quarters, lofty attics and lowly places--

"From all their dens the one-eyed race repair,
From rifted rocks, and mountains high in air."

When doctors, lawyers, and brokers are greatly upon the increase, it is very clear, that we are getting into the way of submitting our bodies and estates, to be frequently, and extensively, tinkered.

I cannot doubt, that in 1789, there were quacks, about town, who could not contrive to get their names inserted, in the same page, with the regular physicians. I cannot believe, however, that they bore any proportion to the unprincipled and ignorant impostors, at the present time. In the "Massachusetts Centinel," of Sept. 21, 1785, is the following advertisement--"_John Pope, who, for eighteen years past, has been noted for curing Cancers, schrophulous Tumours, fetid and phagedenic Ulcers, &c., has removed into a house, the north corner of Orange and Hollis Street, South End, Boston, where he proposes to open a school, for Reading, Writing, Arithmetick, &c._"

In 1789 there were twenty-two distillers of rum in Boston: there are nine only, named in the Directory of 1848-9. The increase of doctors and all the appliances of sickness and death have not probably arisen from the falling off, among distillers. In 1789, there were about twenty innholders: there are now eighty-eight public houses, hotels, or taverns--ninety-two restaurants--thirty-five confectionery establishments--thirty-nine stores, under the caption of "liquors and wines"--sixty-nine places, for the sale of oysters, which are not always the _spiritless_ things they appear to be--one hundred and forty-three wholesale dealers, in West India goods and groceries--three hundred and seventy-three retailers of such articles: I speak not of those, who fall below the dignity of history; whose operations are entirely subterraneous; and whose entire stock in trade might be carried, in a wheelbarrow. We have also one hundred and fifty-two provision dealers. We live well in this city. It would be very pleasant, to walk over it, with old Captain Keayne, who died here, March 23, 1656, and who left a sum of money to the town, to erect a granary or storehouse, for the poor, in case of famine!

No. CXIII.

The Quack is commonly accounted a spurious leech--a false doctor--clinging, like a vicious barnacle, to the very bottom of the medical profession. But impostors exist, in every craft, calling, and profession, under the names of quacks, empirics, charmers, magicians, professors, sciolists, plagiaries, enchanters, charlatans, pretenders, judicial astrologers, quacksalvers, muffs, mountebanks, medicasters, barrators, cheats, puffs, champertors, cuckoos, diviners, jugglers, and verifiers of suggestions.

Butler, in his Hudibras, says, of medical quacks, they

Seek out for plants, with signatures,
To quack of universal cures.

In the Spectator, Addison has this observation--"At the first appearance, that a French quack made in Paris, a boy walked before him, publishing, with a shrill voice, '_my father cures all sorts of distempers_;' to which the doctor added, in a grave manner, '_what the boy says is true_.'"

The imposture of James Aymar, to which I have alluded, was of a different kind. Aymar was an ignorant peasant of Dauphine. He finally confessed himself to be an impostor, before the Prince of Conde; and the whole affair is narrated, by the apothecary of the prince, in a _Lettre a M. L'Abbe, D. L., sur les veritables effets de la baguette de Jaques Aymar par P. Buissiere; chez Louis Lucas, a Paris, 1694_.

The power of this fellow's wand was not limited, to the discovery of hidden treasures, or springs of water; nor were his only dupes the lowly and the ignorant. As I have said, he was detected, and made a full confession, before the Prince of Conde. The magistrates published an official account of the imposture; yet such is the energy of the credulous principle, that M. Vallemont, a man of note, published a treatise "_on the occult philosophy of the divining wand_;" in which he tries to show, that Aymar, notwithstanding his mistakes, before the Prince, was really possessed of all the wonderful power he claimed, of divining with his wand. The measure of this popular credulity will be better understood, after perusing the following translation of an extract from the _Mercure Historique_, for April, 1697, page 440.--"The Prior of the Carthusians passed through Villeneuve with Aymar, to discover, by the aid of his wand, some landmarks, that were lost. Just before, a foundling had been left on the steps of the monastery. Aymar was employed, by the Superior, to find out the father. Followed by a great crowd, and guided by the indications of his wand, he went to the village of Comaret, in the County of Venaissin, and thence to a cottage, where he affirmed the child was born."

Bayle says, on the authority of another letter from M. Buissiere, in 1698, that Aymar's apparent simplicity, and rustic dialect, and the rapid motion of his wand went far, to complete the delusion. He was also exceedingly devout, and never absent from mass, or confession. While he was at Paris, and before his exposure, the Pythoness, herself, would not have been more frequently, and zealously consulted, than was this crafty and ignorant boor, by the Parisians. Fees showered in from all quarters; and he was summoned, in all directions, to detect thieves; recover lost property; settle the question of genuine identity, among the relics of _prima facie_ saints, in different churches; and, in truth, no limit was set, by his innumerable dupes, to the power of his miraculous wand. "I myself," says M. Buissiere, "saw a simple, young fellow, a silk weaver, who was engaged to a girl, give Aymar a couple of crowns, to know if she were a virgin."

Joseph Francis Borri flourished, about the middle of the seventeenth century, and a most complicated scoundrel he was--heresiarch, traitor, alchymist, and empiric. He had spiritual revelations, of course. He was an intelligent and audacious liar, and converts came in apace. At his suggestion, his followers took upon themselves an oath of poverty, and placed all they possessed in the hands of Borri, who told them he would take care it should never again interfere with their devotions, but would be spent in prayers and masses, for their ulcerated souls. The bloodhounds of the Inquisition were soon upon his track, at the moment he was about to raise the standard of insurrection in Milan.

He fled to Amsterdam--made capital of his persecution by the Inquisition; and won the reputation of a great chemist, and wonderful physician. He then went to Hamburg, and persuaded Queen Christina, to advance him a large sum of money, to be reimbursed, from the avails of the philosopher's stone, which Borri was to discover. This trick was clearly worth repeating. So thought Borri; and he tried it, with still better success, on his Majesty of Denmark. Still the stone remained undiscovered; and the thought occurred to Signor Borri, that it might not be amiss, to look for it, in Turkey. He accordingly removed; but was arrested at Vienna, by the Pope's agents; and consigned to the prisons of the Inquisition, for life. His fame, however, had become so omnipotent, that, upon the earnest application of the Duke d'Etree, he was let loose, to prescribe for that nobleman, whom the regular physicians had given over. The Duke got well, and the world gave Borri the credit of the cure. When a poor suffering mortal is given over, in other words, _let alone_, by half a dozen doctors--I am speaking now of the regulars, not less than of the volunteers--he, occasionally, gets well.

A wit replied to a French physician, who was marvelling how a certain Abbe came to die, since he himself and three other physicians were unremitting, in their attentions--"_My dear doctor, how could the poor abbe sustain himself, against you all four?_" The doctors do much as they did of old. Pliny, lib. xxix. 5, says, of consultations--"_Hinc illae circa aegros miserae sententiarum concertationes, nullo idem censente ne videatur accessio alterius. Hinc illa infelicis monumenti inscriptio_, TURBA SE MEDICORUM PERIISSE." Hence those contemptible consultations, round the beds of the sick--no one assenting to the opinion of another, lest he should be deemed his subaltern. Hence the monumental inscription, over the poor fellow, who was destroyed in this way--KILLED BY A MOB OF DOCTORS!

Who has not seen a fire rekindle, _sua sponte_, after the officious bellows have, apparently, extinguished the last spark? So, now and then, the vital spark, stimulated by the _vis medicatrix naturae_ will rekindle into life and action, after having been well nigh smothered, by all sorts of complicated efforts to restore it.

This is the _punctum instans_, the very nick of time, for the charlatan: in he comes, looking insufferably wise, and brim full of sympathetic indignation. All has been done wrong, of course. While he affects to be doing everything, he does exactly nothing--stirs up an invisible, impalpable, infinitessimal, incomprehensible particle, in a little water, which the patient can neither see, feel, taste, nor smell. Down it goes. The patient's faith, as to the size of it, rather resembles a cocoanut than a grain of mustard seed. His confidence in the _new_ doctor is as gigantic, and as blind, as Polyphemus, after he had been _gouged_, by him of Ithaca. He plants his galvanic grasp, upon the wrist of the little doctor, much in the manner of a drowning man, clutching at a full grown straw. He is absolutely better already. The wife and the little ones look upon the mountebank, as their preserver from widowhood and orphanage. "_Dere ish noting_," he says, "_like de leetil doshes_;" and he takes his leave, regretting, as he closes the door, that his sleeve is not large enough, to hold the sum total of his laughter. Yet some of these quacks become _honest men_; and, however surprised at the result, they are finally unable, to resist the force of the popular outcry, in their own favor. They almost forget their days of duplicity, and small things--they arrive, somehow or other, at the conclusion, that, however unexpectedly, they are great men, and their wild tactics a system. They use longer words, move into larger houses, and talk of first principles: and all the practice of a neighborhood finally falls into the hands of Dr. Ninkempaup or Dr. Pauketpeeker.

Francis Joseph Borri died, in prison, in 1695. Sorbiere in his _Voiage en Angleterre_, page 158, describes him thus--"He is a cunning blade; a lusty, dark-complexioned, good-looking fellow, well dressed, and lives at considerable expense, though not at such a rate, as some suppose; for eight or ten thousand livres will go a great way at Amsterdam. But a house, worth 15,000 crowns, in a fine location, five or six footmen, a French suit of clothes, a treat or two to the ladies, the occasional refusal of fees, five or six rix dollars distributed, at the proper time and place among the poor, a spice of insolence in discourse, and sundry other artifices have made some credulous persons say, that he gave away handfulls of diamonds, that he had discovered the philosophers stone, and the universal medicine." When he was in Amsterdam, he appeared in a splendid equipage, was accosted, by the title of "_your excellence_," and they talked of marrying him to one of the greatest fortunes.

I have no taste for unsocial pleasures. Will the reader go with me to Franklin Place--let us take our station near No. 2, and turn our eyes to the opposite side--let us put back the hand of the world's timekeeper, some thirty years. A showy chariot, very peculiar, very yellow, and abundantly supplied with glass, with two tall bay horses, gaudily harnessed, is driven to the door of the mansion, by a coachman, in livery; and there it stands; till, after the expiration of an hour, perhaps, the house door is flung open, and there appears, upon the steps, a tall, dark visaged, portly personage, in black, who, looking slowly up and down the avenue, proceeds, with great deliberation, to draw on his yellow, buckskin gloves. Rings glitter upon his fingers; seals, keys, and safety chain, upon his person. His beaver, of an unusual form, is exquisitely glossy, surpassed, by nothing but the polish of his tall suwarrows, surmounted with black, silk tassels.

He descends to the vehicle--the door is opened, with a bow of profound reverence, which is scarcely acknowledged, and in he gets, the very fac simile of a Spanish grandee. The chariot moves off, so very slowly, that we can easily follow it, on foot--on it goes, up Franklin, and down Washington, up Court, into Tremont, down School, into Washington, along Washington, up Winter, and through Park to Beacon Street, where it halts, before the mansion of some respectable citizen. The occupant alights, and, leaving his chariot there, proceeds, through obscure and winding ways, to visit his patients, on foot, in the purlieus of _La Montagne_.

This was no other than the celebrated patentee of the famous bug liquid; who was forever putting the community on its guard, by admonishing the pill-taking public, that they _could not be too particular_, for _none were genuine, unless signed W. T. Conway_.

No. CXIV.

Charity began at home--I speak of Charity Shaw, the famous root and herb doctress, who was a great blessing to all undertakers, in this city, for many years--her practice was, at first, purely domestic--she began at home, in her own household; and, had she ended there, it had fared better, doubtless, with many, who have received the final attentions of our craft. The mischief of quackery is negative, as well as positive. Charity could not be fairly classed with those reckless empirics, who, rather than lose the sale of a nostrum, will send you directly to the devil, for a dollar: Charity was kind, though she vaunted herself a little in the newspapers. She was, now and then, rather severely handled, but she bore all things, and endured all things, and hoped all things; for, to do her justice, she was desirous, that her patients should recover: and, if she believed not all things, her patients did; and therein consisted the negative mischief--in that stupid credulity, which led them to follow this poor, ignorant, old woman, and thus prevented them, from applying for relief, where, if anywhere, in this uncertain world, it may be found--at the fountains of knowledge and experience. In Charity's day, there were several root and herb practitioners; but the greatest of these was Charity.

Herb doctors have, for some two thousand years, attempted to turn back the tables, upon the faculty--they are a species of _garde mobile_, who have an old grudge against the _corps regulier_: for they have not forgotten, that, some two thousand years ago, herb doctors had all things pretty much in their own way. Two entire books, the twenty-sixth and twenty-seventh of Pliny's Natural History, are devoted to a consideration of the medicinal properties of herbs--the twentieth treats of the medicinal properties of vegetables--the twenty-third and twenty-fourth of the medicinal properties of roots and barks. Thus, we see, of what importance these simples were accounted, in the healing art, in that early age. Herbs, barks, and roots were, and, for ages, had been, the principal _materia medica_, and were employed, by the different sects--by the Rationalists, of whom Pliny, lib. xxvi. cap. 6, considers Herophilus the head, though this honor is ascribed, by Galen, to Hippocrates--the Empirics, or experimentalists--and the Methodics, who avoided all actions, for _mala praxis_, by adhering to the rules. Pliny manifestly inclined to herb doctoring. In the chapter, just now referred to, after alluding to the _verba, garrulitatemque_ of certain lecturers, he intimates, that they and their pupils had an easy time of it--_sedere namque his in scholis auditioni operatos gratius erat, quam ire in solitudines, et quoerere herbas alias aliis diebus anni_--for it was pleasanter to sit, listening in the lecture-rooms, than to run about in the fields and woods, culling certain simples, on certain days in the year.

Herb doctors were destined to be overthrown; and the account, given by Pliny, in chapters 7, 8 and 9, book xxvi. of the sudden and complete revolution, in the practice of the healing art, is curious and interesting.

Asclepiades, of Prusa, in Bythinia, came to Rome, in the time of Pompey the Great, about one hundred years before Christ, to teach rhetoric; and, like an impudent hussy, who came to this city, as a cook, from Vermont, some years ago, and, not succeeding, in that capacity, but hearing, that wet nurses obtained high wages here, prepared herself, for that lucrative occupation--so Asclepiades, not succeeding, as a rhetorician, prepared himself for a doctor. He was ignorant of the whole matter; but a man of genius; and, as he knew nothing of root and herb practice, he determined to cut up the whole system root and branch, and substitute one of his own--_torrenti ac meditata quotidie oratione blandiens omnia abdicavit: totamque medicinam ad causam revocando, conjecturae fecit_. By the power of his forcible and preconcerted orations, pronounced from day to day, in a smooth and persuasive manner, he overthrew the whole; and, bringing back the science of medicine to cause and effect, he constructed a system of inference or conjecture. Pliny is not disposed to be altogether pleased with Asclepiades, though he recounts his merits fairly. He says of him--_Id solum possumus indignari, unum hominem, e levissima gente, sine ullis opibus orsum, vectigalis sua causa, repente leges salutis humano genere dedisse, quas tamen postea abrogavere multi_--at least, we may feel rather indignant, that one, born among a people, remarkable for their levity, born also in poverty, toiling for his daily support, should thus suddenly lay down, for the human race, the laws of health, which, nevertheless, many rejected afterwards.

Now it seems to me, that Asclepiades was a very clever fellow; and I think, upon Pliny's own showing, there was more reason, for indignation, against a people, who had so long tolerated the marvellous absurdities of the herb system, such as it then was, than against a man, who had the good sense to perceive, and the courage and perseverance to explode, them. What there was in the poverty of Asclepiades, or in the character of his countrymen, to rouse Pliny's indignation, I cannot conceive. Pliny says, lib. xxvi. cap. 9, after naming several things, which promoted this great change, in the practice of Physic--_Super omnia adjuvere eum magicae vanitates, in tantum erectae, ut abrogare herbis fidem cunctis possent_. He was especially assisted in his efforts, by the excesses, to which the magical absurdities had been carried, in respect to herbs, so that they alone were enough to destroy all confidence, in such things.

Pliny proceeds to narrate some of these magical absurdities--the plant AEthiops, thrown into lakes and rivers, would dry them up--the touch of it would open everything, that was shut. The Achaemenis, cast among the enemy, would cause immediate flight. The Latace would ensure plenty. Josephus also, De Bell, Ind. lib. vii. cap. 25--speaks of an excellent root for driving out devils.

Pliny says, Asclepiades laid down five important particulars--_abstinentiam cibi_, _alias vini_, _fricationem corporis_, _ambulationem_, _gestationes_--abstinence from meat, and, at other times, from wine, friction of the body, walking, and various kinds of gestation, on horseback, and otherwise. There were some things, in the old practice, _nimis anxia et rudia_, too troublesome and coarse, whose rejection favored the new doctor greatly, _obruendi agros veste sudoresque omni modo ciendi; nunc corpora ad ignes torrendi_, etc.--smothering the sick in blankets, and exciting perspiration, by all possible means--roasting them before fires, &c. Like every other ingenious physician, he had something pleasant, of his own contriving, to propose--_tum primum pensili balinearum usu ad infinitum blandientem_--then first came up the employment of hanging baths, to the infinite delight of the public. These hanging baths, which Pliny says, lib. ix. 79, were really the invention of Sergius Orata, were rather supported than suspended--fires were kindled below--there were different _ahena_, or caldrons, the _caldarium_, and _frigidarium_. The _corrivatio_ was simply the running together of the cold and hot water. Annexed was the _laconicum_, or sweating room. The curious reader may compare the Roman baths with those at Constantinople, described by Miss Pardoe.

_Alia quoque blandimenta_, says Pliny, _excogitabat, jam suspendendo lectulos, quorum jactatu aut morbos extenuaret, aut somnos alliceret_. He excogitated other delights, such as suspended beds, whose motion soothed the patient, or put him to sleep. The principle here seems pretty universal, lying at the bottom of all those simple contrivances, rocking-chairs, cribs, and cradles, swings, hammocks, &c. This is truly Indian practice--

Rock-a-bye baby upon the tree top,
And, when the wind blows, the cradle will rock.

_Praeterea in quibusdam morbis medendi cruciatus detraxit, ut in anginis quas curabant in fauces organo demisso. Damnavit merito et vomitiones, tunc supra modum frequentes._ He also greatly diminished the severity of former practice, in certain diseases, in quinsies for example, which they used to cure, with an instrument, introduced into the fauces. He very properly condemned those vomitings, then frequent, beyond all account. This refers to the Roman usage, which is almost incomprehensible by us. Celsus, De Med. lib. i. 3, refers to it, as the practice _eorum, qui quotidie ejiciendo, vorandi facultatem moliuntur_--of those, who, by vomiting daily, acquired the faculty of gormandizing. Suetonius says of the imperial brute, Vitellius, sec. xiii. that he regularly dined, at three places daily, _facile omnibus sufficiens, vomitandi consuetudine_--easily enabled to do so, by his custom of vomiting.

Pliny's reflection, upon the success of the new doctor, is very natural--_quae quum unusquisque semetipsum sibi praestare posse intelligeret, faventibus cunctis, ut essent vera quae facillima erant, universum prope humanum genus circumegit in se, non alio modo quam si coelo emissus advenisset_. When every one saw, that he could apply the rules for himself, all agreeing that things, which were so very simple, must certainly be true, he gathered all mankind around him, precisely as though he had been one, sent from Heaven.

In the following passage, Pliny employs the word, _artificium_, in an oblique sense. _Trahebat praeterea mentes artifcio mirabili, vinum promittendo aegris._ He attracted men's minds, by the remarkable _artifice_ of allowing wine to the sick.

During the temperance movement, some eminent physicians have asserted, that wine was unnecessary, in every case--others have extended their practice, and increased their popularity, by making their patients as comfortable, as possible--_while they continued in the flesh_. A German, who had been very intemperate, joined a total abstinence society, by the advice of a temperance physician. In a little time the _tormina_ of his stomach became unbearable. Instead of calling his temperance physician, who would, probably, have eased the irritation, with a little wormwood, or opium, he sent for the popular doctor, who told him, at once, that he wanted brandy--"How much may I take?" inquired the German. "An ounce, during the forenoon;" replied the doctor. After he had gone, the German said to his son, "Harman, go, get de measure pook, and zee how mooch be won ounz." The boy brought the book, and read aloud, eight drachms make one ounce--the patient sprang half out of bed; and, rubbing his hands, exclaimed--"dat ish de toctor vor me; I never took more nor voor trams in a morning, in all my porn days--dat ish de trouble--I zee it now."

No. CXV.

Miss Bungs is dead. It is well to state this fact, lest I should be suspected of some covert allusion to the living. She firmly believed in the XXXIX. articles, and in a fortieth--namely--that man is a fortune-hunter, from his cradle. She often declared, that, sooner than wed a fortune-hunter, she would die a cruel death--she would die a maid--she did so, in the full possession of her senses, to the last.

Her entire estate, consisting of sundry shares, in fancy stocks, two parrots, a monkey, a silver snuff-box, and her paraphernalia, she directed to be sold; and the avails employed, for the promotion of celibacy, among the heathen.

Yet it was the opinion of those, who knew her intimately, that Miss Bungs was, at heart, sufficiently disposed to enter into the holy state of matrimony, could she have found one pure, disinterested spirit; but, unfortunately, she was fully persuaded, that every man, who smiled upon her, and inquired after her health, was "_after her money_." Miss Bungs was not unwilling to encourage the impression, that she was an object of particular regard, in certain quarters; and, if a gentleman picked up her glove, or escorted her across a gutter, she was in the habit of instituting particular inquiries, among her acquaintances--in strict confidence of course--in regard to his moral character--ejaculating with a sigh, that men were so mercenary now-a-days, it was difficult to know who could be trusted.

Now, this was very wrong, in Miss Bungs. By the English law, if a man or a woman pretends, falsely, that he or she is married to any person, that person may libel, in the spiritual court, and obtain an injunction of silence; and this offence, in the language of the law, is called _jactitation of marriage_. I can see no reason why an injunction in cases of _jactitation of courtship_, should not be allowed; for serious evils may frequently arise, from such unauthorized pretences.

After grave reflection, I am of opinion, that Miss Bungs carried her opposition to fortune-hunters, beyond the bounds of reason. Let us define our terms. The party, who marries, only for money, intending, from the very commencement, to make use of it, for the selfish gratification of vain, or vicious, propensities--is a fortune-hunter of the very worst kind. But let us not forget, as we go along, that this field is occupied by huntresses, as well as by hunters; and that, upon such voyages of discovery, the cap may be set, as effectually, as the compass.

There is another class, with whom the degree of personal attachment, which really exists, is too feeble, to resist the combined influence of selfishness and pride. Such also, I suppose, may be placed in the category of fortune-hunters. We find an illustration of this, in the case of Mr. Mewins. After a liberal arrangement had been made, for the young lady, by her father; Mr. Mewins, having taken a particular fancy to a little, brown mare, demanded, that it should be thrown into the bargain; and, upon a positive refusal, the match was broken off. After a couple of years, the parties accidentally met, at a country ball--Mr. Mewins was quite willing to renew the engagement--the lady appeared not to have the slightest recollection of him. "Surely you have not forgotten me," said he--"What name, sir?" she inquired--"Mewins," he replied; "I had the honor of paying my addresses to you, about two years ago."--"I remember a person of that name," she rejoined, "who paid his addresses to my father's brown mare."

In matrimony, wealth is, of course, a very comforting accessory. It renders an agreeable partner still more so--and it often goes, not a little way, to balance an unequal bargain. Time and talent may as wisely be wasted, in pursuit of the philosopher's stone, as of an unmixed good or evil, on this side the grave. Temper may be mistaken, or it may change; beauty may fade; but L60,000, well managed, will enable the _happy man or woman_, to bear up, with tolerable complacency, under the severest trials of domestic life. What a blessed thing it is, to fall back upon, when one is compelled to mourn, over the infirmities of the living, or the absence, of the dead! What a solace!

It was therefore wrong, in Miss Bungs, to designate, as fortune-hunters, those, of either sex, who have come to the rational conclusion, that money is essential to the happiness of married life. No man or woman of common sense, who is poor, will, now-a-days, commit the indiscretion of _falling in love_, unless with some person of ample possessions.

What, then, is to become of the penniless, and the unpretty! We must adopt the custom of the ancient Babylonians, introduced about 1433 B. C., by Atossa, the daughter of Belochus. At a certain season of the year, the most lovely damsels were assembled, and put up, singly, at auction, to be purchased, by the _highest_ bidder. The wealthy swains of Babylon poured forth their wealth, like water; and rivals settled the question, not by the length of their rapiers, but of their purses. The money, thus obtained, became the dowry of those, whose personal attractions were not likely to obtain them husbands. They also were put up, and sold to the _lowest_ bidder, as the poor were formerly disposed of, in our villages. Every unattractive maiden, young, old, and of no particular age, was put up, at a _maximum_, and bestowed on him, who would take her, with the smallest amount of dowry. It is quite possible, that certain lots may have been withdrawn.