Chapter III: Part 3

Lord Byron, like many other learned men, was well acquainted with the impotency of the healing art, and held the lancet in utter abhorrence: when beset, day and night, to be bled, the bard, in an angry tone, exclaimed, "You are, I see, a d----d set of butchers; take away as much blood as you like." "We seized the opportunity," says Dr. Milligan, "and drew twenty ounces; yet the relief did not correspond to the hopes we had formed." On the 17th, the bleeding was twice repeated, dangerous symptoms still increasing, and on the 19th he expired, just about bled to death. Washington, a man whose name is dear to every American, died from the effects of an evil system of medication. He was attacked with croup: his physician bled him, and gave him calomel and antimony. The next day, physicians were called in, (to share the responsibility of the butchery,) and he was subjected to two more copious bleedings: in all he lost ninety ounces of blood. Which of our readers, at the present day, would submit to such unwarrantable barbarity? We just said we were not writing for doctors; yet we find ourselves off the track in thus administering a small dose, as a sample of "_good and efficient treatment_."

In reference to the success attending our labors in veterinary reform, we do not claim the whole credit: much of it is due to the intelligence of the American farmers, in appreciating the value and importance of a safer and a more effectual system of medication; such a system as we advocate. They have witnessed the results attending the practice of cattle doctors generally, and they have seen the results of our sanative system of medication, and a great majority in Massachusetts have decided in favor of the latter. We have demonstrated to the satisfaction of our patrons, and we are ready and willing to repeat our experiments on diseased animals for the satisfaction of others, in showing that we can restore an animal, when suffering under acute attacks of disease, in a few hours, when, by the popular method, it takes weeks and months, if indeed they ever recover from the effects of the destructive agents used.

We are told that "horses and cattle are bled and get well immediately." This may apply to some cases; but, in very many instances, the animals are sent for a few weeks to "Dr. Green,"[1] to put them in the same condition they were at the time of bleeding. But suppose that some animals do get well after bleeding; is it thus proved that more would not get well if no blood were drawn from any? A cow may fall down, and, in so doing, lacerate her muscles, blood-vessels, &c., and lose a large quantity of blood. She may get well, in spite of the violence and loss of blood. So we say of blood-letting, if the abstraction of a certain number of gallons of blood will kill a strong animal, then the abstraction of a small quantity must injure it proportionately.

There is in the animal economy a power, called the vital principle, which always operates in favor of health. If the provocation be gentle, and does not seriously derange the machinery, then this power may overcome both it and any disease the animal may at the time labor under. For example, a horse falls down in the street, perhaps laboring under a temporary congestion of the brain: now, if he were let alone until nature has restored an equilibrium of the circulating fluid and nervous action, he would soon get up and proceed on his way, as many thousands do when a knife or lancet is not to be had. But, unfortunately, people are too hasty. The moment a beast has fallen, they are bound to have him on his perpendiculars in double quick time. The teamster cannot wait for nature; she is "too slow a coach" for him. He tries what virtue there is in the whip; this failing, he obtains a knife, if one is to be had, and "_starts the blood_." By this time, nature, about resuming her empire, causes the horse to show signs of returning animation, and the credit is awarded to the blood-starter. Animals are often bled when diseased, and the prominent symptoms that previously marked the character of the malady disappear, or give place to symptoms of another order, less evident, and men have supposed that a cure is effected, when, in fact, they have just sown the seeds of a future disease. We are not bound to prove, in every case, how an animal gets well after two or three repeated bleedings. It is enough for us to prove that this operation always tends to death, which can easily be produced by opening the carotid artery of an animal.

Permit us, dear reader, at this stage of our article, to observe, that "confession is good for the soul." We mean to put it in practice. So here goes. We plead guilty to bleeding, blistering, calomelizing, narcotizing, antimonializing, a great number of patients of the human kind. We did it in our verdant days, because it was so scientific and popular, and because we had been taught to reverence the stereotyped practice of the allopathists. We have, however, done penance, and sought forgiveness; and through the aid of a few men, devoted to medical reform, we have been washed in the regenerating waters flowing through the vineyard of reason and experience, and now advocate and observe the self-regulating powers of the laws of life. On the other hand, we are free from the charge of bleeding or poisoning domestic animals, and can say, with a clear conscience, that we have never drawn a drop of blood from a four-footed creature, (except in surgical operations, when it could not be avoided;) neither will we, under any circumstances, resort to the lancet; for we are convinced that blood-letting is a powerful depressor of the vital powers.

Blood is the fuel that keeps the lamp of life burning; if the fuel be withdrawn, the light is extinguished.

Professor Lobstein says, "So far from blood-letting being beneficial, it is productive of the most serious consequences--a cruel practice, and a scourge to humanity. How many thousands are sent by it to an untimely grave! Without blood there is no heat, no motion in the body."

Dr. Reid says, "If the employment of the lancet was abolished altogether, it would perhaps save annually a greater number of lives than pestilence ever destroyed."

The fact of blood-letting having been practised by horse and cattle doctors from time immemorial is certainly not a clear proof of its utility, nor is it a sufficient recommendation that it may be practised with safety. During my professional career, the preconceived theories have commanded a due share of consideration; and, when weighed in the scale of uninfluenced experience, they never failed of falling short. If we grant that any deviation from the healthy state denotes debility of one or more functions, then whatever has a tendency to debilitate further cannot restore the animal to health. The following case will serve to illustrate our position: "A horse was brought to be bled, merely because he had been accustomed to it at that season of the year. I did not examine him minutely; but as the groom stated there was nothing amiss with him, I directed a moderate quantity of blood to be drawn. About five pints were taken off; and while the operator was pinning up the wound, the horse fell. He appeared to suffer much pain, and had considerable difficulty of breathing. In this state he remained twelve hours, and then died. Judging from the appearances at the post mortem examination, it is probable that a loss of a moderate quantity of blood caused a fatal interruption of the functions of the heart."

It is strange that such cases as these do not open men's eyes, and compel them to acknowledge that there is something wrong in the medical world. Such cases as these furnish us with unanswerable arguments against blood-letting; for as the blood, which is the natural stimulus of, and gives strength to, the organs, is withdrawn, its abstraction leaves all those organs less capable of self-defence.

Horse and cattle doctors have recommended bleeding when animals have been fed too liberally, or if their systems abound in morbific matter. Now, the most sensible course would be, provided the animal had been overfed, to reduce the quantity of food, or, in other words, remove the cause. If the secretions are vitiated, or in a morbid state, then regulate them by the means laid down in this work. For we cannot purify a well of water by abstracting a few buckets; neither can we purify the whole mass of blood by taking away a few quarts; for that which is left will still be impure. If the different parts had between them partitions impervious to fluids, then there would be some sense in drawing out of the vessels over-filled; but unfortunately, if you draw from one, you draw from all the rest.

In every disease wherein bleeding has been used, complete recovery has been protracted, and the animal manifests the debility by swelled legs and other unmistakable evidences. In some cases, however, the ill effects of the loss of blood, unless excessive, are not always immediately perceived; yet such animals, in after years, are subject to staggers, and diseases of the lungs, pleura, and peritoneum.

Dr. Beach says, "The blood is properly called the _vital fluid_, and the life of a person is said to be in the blood.[2] We know that just in proportion to the loss of this substance are our vigor and strength taken from us. When taken from the system by accident or the lancet, it is succeeded by great prostration of strength, and a derangement of all the functions of the body. These effects are invariably, in a greater or less degree, consequent on bleeding. Is it not, then, reasonable to suppose, that what will debilitate the strongest constitution in a state of health, will be attended with most serious evils when applied to a person laboring under any malady? Is it not like throwing spirits on a fire to extinguish it?

"Bleeding is resorted to in all inflammatory complaints; but did practitioners know the nature and design of inflammation, their treatment would be different. In fever it is produced by an increased action of the heart and arteries, to expel acrid and noxious humors, and should be promoted until the irritating matter is dislodged from the system. This should be effected, in general, by opening the outlets of the body, inducing perspiration; to produce which a preternatural degree of heat or inflammation must be excited by internal remedies. Fever is nothing more or less than a wholesome and salutary effort of nature to throw off some morbific matter; and, therefore, every means to lessen this indication proves injurious. Bleeding, in consequence of the debility it produces, prevents such indication from being fulfilled."

The inveterate phlebotomizers recommend and practise bleeding when "_the animal has too much blood_." There may be at times too much blood, and at others too little; but suppose there is--has any body found out any better method of reducing what they please to term an excess, than that of regular exercise in the open air, combined with a less quantity of fodder than usual? Or has any body found out any method of making good healthy blood, other than the slow process of nature, as exhibited in the results of digestion, secretion, circulation, and nutrition? Have they discovered any artificial means of restoring the blood to its healthful quantity when it is deficient? Have they found any means of purifying the blood, save the healthful operations of nature's secreting and excreting laboratory? Finally, have they found any safety-valve or outlet for the reduction of this excess other than the excrementitious vessels? And if they have, are they better able to adjust the pressure on that valve than He who made the whole machinery, and knows the relative strength of all its parts? In an article on blood-letting, found in the Farmer's Cyclopaedia, the author says, "In summer, bleeding is often necessary to prevent fevers." Now, it is evident that nature's preventives are air, exercise, food, water, and sleep. Attention to the rules laid down in this work, under the heads of _Watering_, _Feeding_, &c., will be more satisfactory and less dangerous than that recommended by the Cyclopaedia. If the directions given in the latter were fully carried out, the stock of our farms would be swept away as by the blast of a tornado. Such a barbarous system would entail universal misery and degeneracy on all classes of live stock; and we might then exclaim, "They are living, yet half dead--victims to an inconsistent system of medication!" But thanks to a discerning public, they just begin to see the absurdity and wickedness of draining the system of the living principles. Veterinary reform has germinated in the New England States, and, in spite of all opposition, has struck its roots deep into the minds of a class of men who have the means and power to send forth its healing branches, and apply them to their own interest and the welfare of their stock.

The same author continues: "Some farmers bleed horses three or four times a year." We hope the farmers have too much good sense to follow the wicked example of the former. Frequent bleeding is an indirect mode of butchery--killing by inches; for it gives to the blood-vessels the power to contract and adapt themselves to the measure of blood that remains. It impoverishes the blood, and leads to hydrothorax, (accumulation of water in the chest,) and materially shortens life. Mackintosh says, "Some are bled who cannot bear it, and others who do not require it; and the result is death." The conservative power of life always operates in favor of health, and resists the encroachments upon her province with all her might, and often recovers the dominion; but by frequent bleedings, she is exhausted, and, on taking a little more blood than usual, the animal drops down and dies; and the owner attributes to disease what, in fact, is the result of bad treatment.

"Patients who recover after general and copious bleedings have been employed, may attribute their recovery to the strength of their constitution.

"If you should ask a modern _Sangrado_ what was most necessary in the treatment of disease, doubtless he would reply, 'Bleeding.'

"Our modern pathologists, surgeons and others, think bleeding the _factotum_ in all maladies; it is the _ne plus ultra_, when drawn in large quantities. Blood-letting, say these authors, is not only the most powerful and important, but the most generally used, of all our remedies. Scarcely a case of acute, or, indeed, of chronic, disease occurs in which it does not become necessary to consider the propriety of having recourse to the lancet." (??) To what extent blood-letting is carried, in our modern age, may be learned by reading Youatt and others, who recommend it "when animals rub themselves, and the hair falls off; when the eyes appear dull and languid, red or inflamed; in all inflammatory complaints, as of the brain, lungs, kidneys, bowels, womb, bladder, and joints; in all bruises, hurts, wounds, and all other accidents; in cold, catarrh, paralysis, and locked-jaw." Yet, strange to say, one of these authors qualifies his recommendations as follows: "No man, however wise, can tell exactly how much blood ought to be taken in a given case." Now, it is well known that the draining of blood from a vein, though it diminishes the vital resistance, and lessens the volume of fluids, does not mend the matter; for it thus gives to cold and atmospheric agents the ascendant influence. A collapse takes place, the secretions become impaired, the animal refuses its food, "looks dumpish," &c.

We might continue this article to an indefinite length; but as we shall, in the following pages, have occasion to refer to the use of the lancet as a destructive agent, we conclude it with the following remarks of an English physician: "Our most valuable remedies against inflammation are but ill adapted for curing that state of disease. They do not act directly on the diseased part; the action is only indirect; therefore it is imperfect. Bleeding, the best of any of these remedies, is in this predicament."

FOOTNOTES:

[1] A piece of pasture land.

[2] Then the life of an animal is also in the blood; and the same evil consequences follow its abstraction.

EFFORTS OF NATURE TO REMOVE DISEASE.

"Nature is ever busy, by the silent operations of her own forces,
in curing disease."--_Dixon._

Whenever any irritating substance comes in contact with sensitive surfaces, nature, or the _vis medicatrix naturae_, goes immediately to work to remove the offending cause: for example, should any substance lodge on the mucous surface, within the nostril, although it be imperceptible, as often happens when the hay is musty, it abounds in particles whose specific gravity enables them to float in atmospheric air; they are then inhaled in the act of respiration, and nature, in order to wash off the offending matter, sends a quantity of fluid to the part. The same process may be observed when a small piece of hay, or other foreign matter, shall have fallen into the eye: the tears then flow in great abundance, to prevent that delicate organ being injured. "When a blister is applied to the surface, it first excites a genial warmth, with inflammation of the skin; and nature, distressed, goes instantly to work, separates the cuticle to form a bag, interposes serum between the nerves and the offensive matter, then prepares another cuticle, that, when the former, with the adhering substance, shall fall off, the nervous papillae may be again provided with a covering.

"The same reasoning will apply to the operation of emetics and cathartics; for not only is the peristaltic motion either greatly quickened or inverted, according to the urgency of the distress, but both the mucous glands and the exhalent arteries pour forth their fluids in abundance to wash away the offending matter, which at one time acts chemically, at others mechanically."

If a horse, or an ox, be wounded in the foot with a nail, and a portion of it is broken off and remains in the wound, inflammation sets in, producing suppuration, and the nail is discharged.

A few days ago, we were called to see a horse, said to have swelling on the _tarsus_, (hock.) On an examination, it proved to be an abscess, well developed; the matter could be distinctly felt at the most prominent part. We should certainly have been justified (at least in the eyes of the medical world; and then it would have looked so "doctor-like"!) in displaying a case of instruments and opening the tumor. If ulceration, gangrene, &c., set in and the horse ultimately became lame, no blame could be attached to us, because the practice is _scientific_!--recognized by the schools as good and efficient treatment. What was to be done? Why, it was evident that we could not do better than to aid nature. A relaxing, anti-spasmodic poultice was confined to the parts, and in six hours after, the sac discharged its contents, and with it a piece of splinter two inches in length. The pain immediately ceased, and the animal is now free from lameness. We here see the design of nature: the consequent inflammation was to produce suppuration, and make an outlet for the splinter.

Professor Kost says, "The laws of all organic life are remarkably peculiar; they possess, in an eminent degree, the power of self-regulation. When interrupted, disease, indeed, supervenes; but unless the circumstances are particularly unfavorable, the physiological state will soon be restored. All observation most clearly corroborates this fact. The healing of wounds, restoration of fractured bones, expulsion of obtruded substances, and particularly the manner in which extravasated matter or pus is removed from internal organs, as in case of abscess in the liver, in which exit may be gained by ulceration through the parietes, or by an adhesion to and ulceration into the intestines, or even by the adhesions to the diaphragm and lungs, in such a manner as, by ulceration into the bronchia, a passage may be gained, and the pus thus removed by expectoration,--all evince a most singular conservative power. What is most remarkable in cases like the latter, is, that the adhesions are so formed as to prevent the escape of the pus into the peritoneal sac, which accident must inevitably prove fatal.

"Some very interesting experiments have been performed to test the restorative power of the different tissues of the animal body. If a portion of the intestines of a dog be taken out, and tied, so as to obstruct completely the passage, it will be found that the adjacent portions of the intestine will reunite, the ligature will separate into the canal and be discharged, and the gut will heal up so as to preserve its normal continuity, and the animal, in a fortnight, will have recovered entirely from the effects of this fearful operation.

"When noxious or poisonous substances are thrown into any of the cavities of the body from which their escape is impracticable, a cyst will often form around them, and they thus become isolated from absorption and the circulation, so as to prevent their doing harm.

"The less remarkable instances of this character are of more common occurrence; and the self-regulating power of the laws of life, alias _vis conservatrix naturae_, is so universally known and depended on, that it is rare, indeed, that indisposed persons take medicine, until they have first waited at least a little, to see what nature would do for them; and they are seldom disappointed, as it may perhaps be safely asserted, that nine tenths of all the attacks of disease (taking the slight indispositions; for such are most of them, as they are checked before they become severe) are warded off by the vital force, unassisted. Such, then, are the facts deduced from observing the operations of nature in disease _unassisted_."

Dr. Beach says, "We are well aware, from what passes in the system daily, that the Author of nature has wisely provided a principle which is calculated to remove disease. It is very observable in fevers. No sooner is noxious or morbid matter retained in the system, than there is an increased action of the heart and arteries, to eliminate the existing cause from the skin; or it may pass off by other outlets established for that purpose. With what propriety, then, can this provision of nature be denied, as it is by some? A noted professor in Philadelphia or Baltimore ridicules this power in the constitution; he says to his class, 'Kick nature out of doors.' It was this man, or a brother professor, who exclaimed to his class, 'Give me mercury in one hand and the lancet in the other, and I am prepared to cope with disease in every shape and form.' I have not time to stop here, and comment upon such palpable and dangerous doctrine. I have only to say, let the medical historian record this sentiment, maintained in the highest medical universities in America in the nineteenth century. I am pleased, however, to observe, that all physicians do not coincide with such views."

PROVERBS OF THE VETERINARY REFORMERS.

The merciful man is merciful to his domestic animals.

"Avoid blood-letting and poisons, for they are powerful depressors of the vital energies. There are two medical _fulcra_--reason and experience. Experience precedes, reason follows; hence, reasoning not founded on experience avails nothing. He who cures by simples need not seek for compounds."--_Villanov._

"The physician _destitute of a knowledge of plants_ can never properly judge of the power of a plant."--_Whitlaw._

"The vegetable kingdom is the most noble in medicines."--_Ibid._

"Innocent medicines, which approach as near to food as possible, preserve health, while chemical compounds destroy it. Heroic medicines (such are antimony, copper, corrosive sublimate, lead, opium, hellebore, arsenic, belladonna) are like the sword in the hands of a madman.

"Nature unassisted by art sometimes effects miracles."--_Whitlaw._

"It is the part of a wise physician to decline prescribing in a lost case."--_Ibid._ Whenever there is free, full circulation of blood, there is animal heat. If the heat of a part becomes deficient, the circulation is correspondingly diminished. As soon as voluntary motion in a part ceases, so soon the circulation becomes enfeebled; and if continued, the part will wither and waste away.

The strength and health of an animal depend on a due share of exercise, pure air, and suitable food. Deprive an animal of these, and he will cease to exist. We believe in the great doctrine that the duty of the physician is to aid nature in protecting herself in the enjoyment of health, by proper attention to breeding, rearing, ventilation, and proper farm and stable management.

"The tinsel glitter of fine-spun theory, or favorite hypothesis, which prevails wherever allopathy hath been taught, so dazzles, flatters, and charms human vanity and folly, that, so far from contributing to the certain and speedy cure of diseases, it hath, in every age, proved the bane and disgrace of healing art."--_Graham_, p. 15.

"Those physicians generally become the most distinguished who soonest emancipate themselves from the tyranny of the schools of physic."--RUSH.

"Availing ourselves of the privileges we possess, and animated by the noblest impulses, let us cordially cooeperate to give to medicine a new direction, and attempt those great improvements which it imperiously demands."--_Ther._, vol. i. p. 51.

"It has been proved by allopathists themselves, that 'a physician should be nature's servant;' that 'bleeding tends directly to subdue nature's efforts;' that 'all poisons suddenly and rapidly destroy a great proportion of the vitality of the system;' that whatever be the quantity, use, or manner of application, all the influence they inherently possess is injurious, and that they are not fatal in every instance of their use only because nature overpowers them."--_Curtis._

AN INQUIRY CONCERNING THE SOULS OF BRUTES.

"Are these then made in vain? Is man alone,
Of all the marvels of creative love,
Blest with a scintillation of His essence--
The heavenly spark of reasonable soul?
And hath not yon sagacious dog, that finds
A meaning in the shepherd's idiot face;
Or the huge elephant, that lends his strength
To drag the stranded galley to the shore,
And strives with emulative pride t' excel
The mindless crowd of slaves that toil beside him;
Or the young generous war-horse, when he sniffs
The distant field of blood, and quick and shrill
Neighing for joy, instils a desperate courage
Into the veteran trooper's quailing heart,--
Have they not all an evidence of soul,
(Of soul, the proper attribute of man,)
The same in kind, though meaner in degree?
Why should not that which hath been--be forever?
And death, O, can it be annihilation?
No,--though the stolid atheist fondly clings
To that last hope, how kindred to despair!
No,--'tis the struggling spirit's hour of joy,
The glad emancipation of the soul,
The moment when the cumbrous fetters drop,
And the bright spirit wings its way to heaven!

"To say that God annihilated aught,
Were to declare that in an unwise hour
He planned and made somewhat superfluous.
Why should not the mysterious life that dwells
In reptiles as in man, and shows itself
In memory, gratitude, love, hate, and pride,
Still energize, and be, though death may crush
Yon frugal ant or thoughtless butterfly,
Or, with the simoom's pestilential gale
Strike down the patient camel in the desert?

"There is one chain of intellectual soul,
In many links and various grades, throughout
The scale of nature; from the climax bright,
The first great Cause of all, Spirit supreme,
Incomprehensible, and unconfined,
To high archangels blazing near the throne,
Seraphim, cherubim, virtues, aids, and powers,
All capable of perfection in their kind;--
To man, as holy from his Maker's hand
He stood in possible excellence complete,
(Man, who is destined now to brighter glories,--
As nearer to the present God, in One
His Lord and Substitute,--than angels reach;)
Then man has fallen, with every varied shade
Of character and capability,
From him who reads his title to the skies,
Or grasps, with giant-mind, all nature's wonders,
Down to the monster-shaped, inhuman form,
Murderer, slavering fool, or blood-stained savage;
Then to the prudent elephant, the dog
Half-humanized, the docile Arab horse,
The social beaver, and contriving fox,
The parrot, quick in pertinent reply,
The kind-affectioned seal, and patriot bee,
The merchant-storing ant, and wintering swallow,
With all those other palpable emanations
And energies of one Eternal Mind
Pervading and instructing all that live,
Down to the sentient grass and shrinking clay.
In truth, I see not why the breath of life,
Thus omnipresent, and upholding all,
Should not return to Him and be immortal,
(I dare not say the same,) in some glad state
Originally destined for creation,
As well from brutish bodies, as from man.
The uncertain glimmer of analogy
Suggests the thought, and reason's shrewder guess;
Yet revelation whispers nought but this,--
'Our Father careth when a sparrow dies,'
And that 'the spirit of a brute descends,'
As to some secret and preserving Hades.

"But for some better life, in what strange sort
Were justice, mixed with mercy, dealt to these?
Innocent slaves of sordid, guilty man,
Poor unthanked drudges, toiling to his will,
Pampered in youth, and haply starved in age,
Obedient, faithful, gentle, though the spur,
Wantonly cruel, or unsparing thong,
Weal your galled hides, or your strained sinews crack
Beneath the crushing load,--what recompense
Can He who gave you being render you,
If in the rank, full harvest of your griefs
Ye sink annihilated, to the shame
Of government unequal?--In that day
When crime is sentenced, shall the cruel heart
Boast uncondemned, because no tortured brute
Stands there accusing? Shall the embodied deeds
Of man not follow him, nor the rescued fly
Bear its kind witness to the saving hand?
Shall the mild Brahmin stand in equal sin
Regarding nature's menials, with the wretch
Who flays the moaning Abyssinian ox,
Or roasts the living bird, or flogs to death
The famishing pointer?--and must these again,
These poor, unguilty, uncomplaining victims,
Have no reward for life with its sharp pains?--
They have my suffrage: Nineveh was spared,
Though Jonah prophesied its doom, for sake
Of sixscore thousand infants, and 'much cattle;'
And space is wide enough for every grain
Of the broad sands that curb our swelling seas,
Each separate in its sphere to stand apart
As far as sun from sun; there lacks not room,
Nor time, nor care, where all is infinite."--_Tupper._

THE REFORMED PRACTICE.

SYNOPTICAL VIEW OF THE PROMINENT SYSTEMS OF MEDICINE.

Some of our readers, especially the non-medical, may desire to know what the following remarks, which appear to apply generally to the human family, have to do with cattle doctoring. We answer them in the language of Professor Percival. "The object of the veterinary art is not only congenial with human medicine, but the very same paths which lead to a knowledge of the diseases of man, lead also to a knowledge of those of brutes. An accurate examination of the interior parts of their bodies; a studious survey of the arrangement, structure, use, connection, and relation of these parts, and of the laws by which they act; as also of the nature and properties of the various food and other agents which the earth so liberally provides for their support and cure,--these form, in a great measure, the sound and sure foundation of all medical science, whatever living individual animal be the subject of our consideration. Whether we prescribe for a man, horse, dog, or cat, the laws of the animal economy are the same; and one system, and that based upon established facts, is to guide our practice in all.

"The theory of medicine in the human subject is the theory of medicine in the brute; it is the application of that theory--the practice alone--that is different.

"We might as well, in reference to the principles of each, attempt to separate surgery from medicine, as insist that either of these arts, in theory, is essentially different from the veterinary: every day's experience serves to confirm this our belief, and in showing us how often the diseases of animals arise from the same causes as those of a man, exhibit the same indications, and require a similar method of cure.

"The science of medicine, like others, consists of a collection of facts of a common and not a specific character. These, therefore, admit of arrangement into different systems, according to the notions of theorists, and the various species of philosophy, brought to bear on the subject.

"The first regular system was founded by Hippocrates, about three hundred and eighty years before Christ. It was founded upon _theory_, and comprised the doctrines of the ancient dogmatic school. Its pathology rested upon a supposed change of the humors of the body, particularly the blood and bile; and here are the first elements of the '_humoral pathology_.' Its remedial intentions were founded upon the existence of the _'vis conservatrix' et 'medicatrix naturae;'_ and, although often maintaining direct antipathic principles of action, it rested mainly on physo-dynamic influence for the accomplishment of its therapeutic purposes.

"About two hundred and ninety years before Christ, Philinus of Cos introduced the ancient _Empiric System_, which was founded upon _experience_ and _observation_. About one hundred years before the Christian era, the _Methodic System_ was introduced by Asclepiades of Bithynia. This system was got up with an avowed opposition to that of Hippocrates, which was called 'a study of death.' Themison of Laodicea, pupil of Asclepiades, gives an exposition of the fundamental principles of the methodic system; and it seems that all physiological and pathological action was considered to be dependent upon the _strictum_ and _laxum_ of the organic pores, or increased and decreased secretion, and that all medicines act only on two principles, _i. e._, by inducing contraction and relaxation, or an increase and decrease of the secretions.

"It would seem that, in the first century of the Christian era, the methodic system was divided into various subordinate ones--the _Pneumatic_, _Episynthetic_, and _Eclectic_. The pneumatic system, which was the most popular of the fragments of the methodic, was most indebted to Athenaeus of Attalia for its successful introduction. This system contemplated the doctrine of the Stoics, which recognized the existence of a spirit governing and directing every thing, and which, when offended, would produce disease; hence the name _pneumatic_. The indications of cure were more _moral_ than _physical_. Fire, air, water, &c., were not considered elements, but their properties--heat, cold, dryness, moisture, &c.--were alone entitled to the name.

"In the second century, the _Galenic System_ was founded by Claudius Galenus. This might, indeed, only be considered the revival of the dogmatic or Hippocratean system. Galen professed to have selected what he found valuable from all the prevailing systems, and has embraced the elements and ruling spirit of the pneumatic school. Thus he explained the operation of medicines by reference to their elementary qualities,--that is, heat, cold, dryness, and moisture,--of each of which he admitted four degrees. But he was governed by a prevailing partiality for the system of Hippocrates, which, he states, was either misunderstood or misrepresented by all theorists, ever since the establishment of the empiric and methodic schools. He devoted most of his time to commenting upon and embellishing it, and thus again established a system, founded on reason, observation, and sound induction, which maintained its character, without a rival, for more than one thousand five hundred years.

"Near the middle of the sixteenth century, Paracelsus introduced the _Chemical System_. This was strongly opposed by Bellonius and Riverius, who maintained the doctrine of Hippocrates and Galen. But the presumptuous Paracelsus burned, 'in solemn state,' the works of the ancients; and being succeeded by the indefatigable Van Helmont, the whole science of medicine was overwhelmed by the mysticism of the alchemical doctrines and languages. The chemical theory, in the main, rejects the influence, or even the existence, of the _vis medicatrix naturae_, and explains all physiological, pathological, and therapeutic operations upon abstract chemical laws. Thus chemical or inorganic agents, and many of the most virulent poisons, as arsenic, mercury, antimony, &c., were placed among the most prominent remedies.

"Soon after the introduction of the chemical system, medical science, if we make one exception, became less eccentric, but much less marked for the permanency of its systems. Boerhaave ingeniously blended most of the prominent doctrines of the Galenic and chemical systems; and by an application of several of the newly-developed natural sciences, especially mathematics and natural philosophy, he led his successors into a more even path and fixed method of investigation; for no more do we find any abstract physical laws the sole basis of a system. But these were the highest honors allowed Boerhaave; his particular system was soon subverted by Stahl, who proved the supreme superintendence of an immaterial, vital principle, corresponding to that pointed out by Hippocrates. To this he ascribes intelligence, if not moral attributes. Hoffman led Cullen into the path that brought him into the fruitful field of _nervous pathology_ and solidism, which, with a modification of Stahl's ruling _immaterial essence_, formed the groundwork of his admired system.

"If, now, we except the eccentricities of Brown, comprising his system, founded on the _sthenic_ and _asthenic_ diathesis, we find little interruption to the general prevalence of the Cullenian system, till nearly the present juncture. The succeeding authors, colleges, and medical societies have only modified and amplified the general theory, and regulated the practice into a comparative uniformity, which now constitutes the popular _Allopathic System_. But notwithstanding the comparatively settled state of medical science, it could not be supposed that in this remarkable age of improvement, while all other liberal sciences and arts are progressing as if prosecuted by superhuman agency, medicine should fail to undergo corresponding improvement.

"Several new systems of medicine date themselves within the last forty years, viz.: 1. The _Homaeopathic_, introduced by Hahnemann, and founded upon the principle, _similia similibus curantur_. 2. The _Botanic_, established by a new class of medical philosophers, within the last twenty years. 3. The _Eclectic_, corresponding, in its essential doctrines, with the ancient eclectic system."

CREED OF THE REFORMERS.

We believe that a perfect system of medical science is that which never allows disease to exist at all; which prevents disease, instead of curing it, by means of a perfect hygienic system, proper modes of life, attention to diet, ventilation, and exercise.

We believe that the next best system is that which, after disease has made its appearance, promptly meets its development by the use of such agencies as are perfectly in harmony with the laws of life and health, and physiological in their action; such, for example, as water, air, heat and cold, friction, food, drink, and medicines that are not usually regarded as poisons, and are known to prove congenial to the animal constitution.

We have no attachment to any remedy which experience shows unsafe; but, on the contrary, we rejoice in the success of every attempt to substitute sanative for disease-creating agents, and believe that a number of the articles which are still occasionally used in the old school, will in time become obsolete, as medical science progresses.

We hold that our opposition to any course of medical treatment should be in proportion to the mischief it produces, entirely irrespective of medical theories. Hence our hostility to the lancet.

We do not profess to know more about anatomy, physiology, surgery, &c., than our allopathic brethren; but the superiority which our system claims over others is, in the main, to be found in our therapeutic agents, all of which are harmless, safe, and efficient. While they arouse the energies of nature to resist the ravages of disease, they act harmoniously with the vital principle, in the restoration of the system from a pathological to the physiological state.

TRUE PRINCIPLES.

"Our objection to the old school," says Professor Curtis, "has ever been, that they not only have no true principles to guide their practice, but they have adopted, fixed, and obstinately adhered to principles the very reverse of the true. They have resolved that, in disease, nature turns a somerset--reverses all her normal laws, and requires them to do the same. They have decreed that the best means and processes to cure the sick are those which will most speedily kill them when in health. In the face of all reason and common sense, they have adhered to this doctrine and practice for the last three centuries, and they have been constrained to confess that the destruction they have produced on human life and health has far exceeded all that has been effected by the sword, pestilence, and famine. Still they obstinately persevere. They say their science is progressive--improving; yet its progression consists in contriving new ways and means to take part of the life's blood, and poison all the balance.

"Medicine, being based on the laws of nature, is in itself an exact science; and every process of the act should be directed by those laws.

"Medicine is a demonstrative science, and all its processes should be based on fixed laws, and be governed by positive inductions. Then, and not till then, will it deserve to be ranked among the exact sciences, and contemplated as a liberal art.

"Truth is stationary; it never progresses. What was true in principle in the days of Adam is so still. To talk of progress in principle is ridiculous. Neither does a given practice progress. That which was ever intrinsically good is so still. To talk, then, of the progress in principles of medicine is absurd. We may learn the truth or error of principles, and the comparative value or worthlessness of practices; but the principles are still the same. This is our progress in knowledge, not the progress of science or art. The constant changes that have taken place in the adoption and rejection of various principles and practices have ever been an injury to the healing art. Both truth and falsehood, separately and combined, have been alternately received and rejected; and this is that progress which is made in a circle, and not in lines direct. The fault of the cultivators of medicine has been, not that they never discovered the truth nor adopted the right practice, but that they adopted wrong principles and practices as often as the right, and rejected the right as readily as the wrong. They have ever been ready to prove many, if not all things; but to cast off the bad and hold fast to the good, they seem to have had but little discrimination and power. They say truly, that the object of the healing art is to aid nature in the prevention and cure of her diseases; yet, in practice, they do violence to nature in the use of the lancet and poison."

We are told by the professors of allopathy that their medicines constitute a class of deadly poisons, (see "Pocket Pharmacopoeia;") "that, when given with a scientific hand, in small doses, they cure disease." We deny their power to cure. If antimony, corrosive sublimate, &c., ever proved destructive, they always possess that power, and can never be used with any degree of assurance that they will make a sick animal well. On the other hand, we have abundant every-day evidence of their ability to make a well animal sick at any time. What difference does it make whether poisons are given with a scientific or an unscientific hand? Does it alter the tendency which all poisons possess, namely, that of rapidly depriving the system of vitality?

The veterinary science was ushered into existence by men who practised according to the doctrines of the theoretical schools. We may trace it in its infancy when, in England, in the year 1788, it was rocked in the cradle of allopathy by Sainbel, its texture varying to suit the skill of Clark, Lawrence, Field, Blaine, and Coleman; yet with all their amount of talent and wisdom, their pupils must acknowledge that the melancholy triumph of disease over its victims clearly evinces that their combined stock of knowledge is insufficient to perfect the veterinary science. Dr. J. Bell says, "Anatomy is the basis of medical skill;" yet, in another part of his work he says, "It enables the physician to GUESS _at the seat, or causes, or consequences of disease_!" This is what we propose hereafter to call the science--the science of guessing! If such is the immense mortality in England, (amounting, as Mr. Youatt states, in loss of cattle, alone, to $50,000,000,)--a country that boasts of her veterinary institutions, and embraces within her medical halo some of the brightest luminaries of the present century,--what, we ask, is the mortality in the United States, where the veterinary science scarcely has an existence, and where not one man in a hundred can tell a disease of the bowels from one of the lungs? Profiting by the experience of these men, we are in hopes to build up a system of practice that will stand a tower of strength amid the rude shock of medical theories. We have discovered that the lancet is a powerful depressor of vitality, and that poisons derange, instead of producing, healthy action. That they are generally resorted to in this country, no one will deny, and often by men who are unacquainted with the nature of the destructive agents they making use of.

Hence our business, as reformers, is to expose error, and disseminate true principles. In doing so, we must be guided by the light of reason, and interpret aright the doctrines of nature as they are written by the Creator on the tablets of the whole universe, animate and inanimate.

In our reformed practice, we have true principles to guide us, which no man can controvert; for they are based on the recognition of a curative power in nature, identical with the vital principle, and governed by the same laws that control its action in the healthy state. While, therefore, this system must not change, it may improve; and while it remains on the same foundation, it should progress.

The necessity of aiding nature, in all our modes of medication, is the only true principle which should guide us. This we do by the aid of medicines known to be harmless, at the same time paying proper attention to diet, ventilation, exercise, &c., rejecting all processes of cure that depress the vital energy, or destroy the equilibrium of its action.

Our reformed principles teach us that, "Fever is the same in its essential character, under all circumstances and forms which it exhibits. The different kinds, as they are called, are but varieties of the same condition, produced by variations in the prevailing cause, or the strength of vital resistance, or some other peculiarity of the patient. Facts in abundance might be stated to justify this position. Again, fever is not to be regarded as disease, but as a sanative effort; in other words, as an increased or excited state of vital action, whose tendency is to remove from the system any agents or causes that would effect its integrity. Or, perhaps, it might be more properly said, that fever is the effect, or symptom, of accumulated vital action--an index pointing to the progress of causes, operating to ward off disease and restore health.

"Our indications of cure and modes of treatment are to be learned from those manifestations of the vital operations uniformly witnessed in the febrile state. If fever marks the action of the healing power of nature, which we must copy to be successful, why should we not consult the febrile phenomena for our rule of action? Now, what are the indications of cure which we derive from this source? In other words, what are the results which nature designs to accomplish through the instrumentality of fever? They are, an equilibrium of the circulation, a properly-proportioned action of all the organs, and an increased depuration of the system, principally by cutaneous evacuations."

Suppose the resistance of some local obstruction, as, for example, an accumulation of partly digested food in the manyplus of the ox, and, for want of a due portion of the gastric fluids to soften the mass and prevent friction, it irritates the mucous covering of the laminae. The result is inflammation, (local fever,) then general excitement, manifested in an increased state of the circulation generally. The consequences of this general excitement of the mass of the circulation are, a more equal distribution of the blood, and the stimulation of every organ to do a part, according to its capacity, in removing disease. In such cases, the cattle doctors, generally, suppose that the inflammation is confined to the part, (manyplus;) yet it is evident that nature has marshalled her forces and produced a like action on the external surface. How can we prove that this is the case? By the heat, and red surfaces of the membrane lining the nostril, by the accelerated pulse, thirst, &c. Without heat there is no vitality in the system. Now, if the surface be hot, it proves that a large quantity of blood is sent there for the purpose of relieving the deranged internal organ. Hence the reader will perceive, that the cattle doctor whose creed is, "The more fever, the more blood-letting," must be one of the greatest opponents nature has to deal with. Then it is no wonder that so many cattle, sheep, and oxen die of fever. The practice of purging, in such a case, would be almost as destructive as the former; for many articles used as purges act on the mucous surfaces of the alimentary canal as mechanical irritants. Nature would, in this case, have to recall her forces from the surface, and concentrate them in the vicinity of parts where they were not wanted, had not man's interference conflicted with her well-planned arrangement, and made her "turn a somerset." When the increased action and heat are manifested on the surface, does it not prove that the different organs are acting harmoniously in self-defence? And is not this action manifested through the same channels in a state of health? Then why call it _disease_?

If obstructions exist as the cause of fever, will the mode of evacuation be different from that of health? Certainly not. Hence the marked tendency of fever to evacuation by the skin or the bowels; the former by perspiration, and the latter by diarrhoea. Fever, then, is a vital action, and the reformers have correct principles. On the other hand, the allopathists tell us that they know very little about fever, but that it is disease, and they treat it as such; hence, then, five, ten, and fourteen days' fever, and often the death of the patient.

Our treatment is not directed with a view of combating the fever: we generally aid it by following the indications which it presents; and we often find it necessary, although the surface of the animal shall be hot, and feverish symptoms appear, to use stimulants, (not alcoholic,) combined with antispasmodics and relaxants. (See _Stimulants_, in the APPENDIX.) This class of medicines, aided by warmth and moisture, favors the cutaneous exhalation, and promotes the free and full play of all the functions.

That the allopathist has but few principles to guide him is evident from the following quotations:--

Veterinary surgeon Haycock says, "The profession may flatter itself that it is advancing: for my part, however, I see little or no advancement. Our labors, for the last ten years, have been little more than a repetition of what has gone before. Our books are things of shreds and patches; the system which is followed in the investigation of disease, in the treatment of disease, and in the reporting of it, is altogether so crude and barbarous, that I am thoroughly ashamed of the whole matter.

"I have heard much noise about a _charter_, [which, we presume, means a charter by which men may be licensed to kill _secundum artem_, and '_no questions_ ASKED,'] the clamor of which may be compared to the rattling of peas in a dried bladder, or to a storm in a horse-pond. I have also read much which has been said about the _spirit_ of this charter. Until I am convinced that it is the best term which can be applied to it, verily the whole is a spirit; for no one, I am persuaded, has ever yet discovered the substance.[3] It is not charters that we want, _but it is that quiet spirit of earnestness which characterizes the true laborer on science_. We require men who will labor for the advancement of the profession from the pure love of the thing; we want, in fact, a few John Fields, or men who know how to work, and who are possessed of the will to do it."