Text: C. F. Briggs (?), Literary, Broadway Journal (New York), June 21, 1845, vol. 1, no. 25, p. ??

[page 392:]

REVIEWS.

An Essay On the PHILOSOPHY OF MEDICAL SCIENCE, by Elisha Bartlett, M. D., &c. — Philadelphia, Lea & Blanchard. 1844.

THE PRINCIPLES OF THE CHRONO-THERMAL. SYSTEM OF MEDICINE; with Fallacies of the Faculty. By Samuel Dickinson, M.D., &c. With introduction and notes, by William Turner, M. D., &c. — New-York, J. S. Redfield, Clinton Hall, 1845.

These are two books diametrically opposite in their aims, yet both significant signs in the Medical World; it is on this account that we bring them together, that we may expound their meaning, for the benefit of our readers who happen to be uninitiated in the mysteries of Esculapius’ worship. Dr. Bartlett, by way of preliminaries to dispose the good-natured reader to a favorable judgment of his cause, devotes a few chapters of his book to demonstrating what constitutes a correct mode of observing and reasoning, or, in one word, of philosophizing in exact sciences; and having thus built a ladder, to step upon, he drags his reader up the heights of Medical science, showing him all the while, how firmly and securely, and how philosophically he ascends to the possible in the knowledge of the healing art. Doubtless, the unsuspecting, and not very keen-sighted reader, will believe, on laying down Dr. Bartlett's book, that he has drank deeply at the very source of truth. But for ourselves who have dabbled in those matters upon which the learned doctor is so eloquent, we can declare that we rose from the intellectual repast which the doctor cooked up, with a hungry stomach, for the quantity we have consumed proved but a few grains of truth in a bushel of chaff. Yet, we are free to confess that the doctor is an excellent cook in his way, indeed, there are not many such in his profession. There is both mechanical and intellectual legerdemain, the doctor's work is an evidence of the latter; he is a schoolman who has learned to muster his words in a phalanx, as a drill-sergeant does his men, but without the aid of scholastic glasses he is incapable of looking upon nature, and marking her workings. The aim of the book is to teach how to philosophize in medicine, but it strikes us, taking the doctrines he favors as an evidence, that he has not learnt the art himself; for he talks grandiloquently of such nonsense as a correct nosology, the bug-bear of inflammation, and believes in the means of reducing it by bleeding — things that have a foundation only in the brains of professors and their dupes, but not in nature. He condemns hypotheses, but insists that naked facts should make up the science. He forgets that it is as easy for those who are not fit for the task, and these are numerous, to make wrong experiments, and call them naked facts, as it is for another set of persons equally unfit for their undertaking, to make incorrect hypotheses and call them true explanations of nature's mysteries. The alchemists have collected numerous so-called facts, but they did not know what to make of them, for they experimented foolishly, and they might have gone on still longer putting wrong questions to nature, and remain as ignorant as ever. It was left for the intellect of Lavoisier, Guy Lussac and others, who could at a glance surmise correctly nature's purposes, to question her accordingly; and thus they were enabled to raise the structure of exact sciences.

The fact is, that it is permitted but to few to make correct hypotheses and have them verified by experience; but those few cannot teach others to do the same; nor will they stop to give us an account of the mental processes that led them to their discoveries. There is a larger class of minds that, when [column 2:] discoveries are made and interpreted, can logically, step by step, verify and enlarge the experience of others, but who would never discover anything themselves; and there is another class of men still more numerous, who can write upon the correct manner of tnaking discoveries, and collecting facts: but yet these last are not the persons to be employed for the purposes of the art they teach; they are mere self-satisfied and self-glorifying sclwolmen. Dr. Bartlett's book sufficiently justifies us in making the above observations; his aim seems to have been to raise the credit of the old school of medicine, which of late, has lost so much in public estimation. With those who cannot see for themselves, he will undoubtedly succeed; but there will be yet a few left, cunning enough to see through the legerdemain of his logic, and who will persist in mistrusting the learning of the faculty. The author of this book is a striking illustration of that calibre of mind that can spend itself in petty details with great gusto and considerable credit; but is incapable by summing them up, to rise to generalities, and seize upon the secrets of nature. Unfortunately for mankind, we had too many such men in the profession, and it is they especially, more even than the intrinsic difficulty of the subject, who contributed so much to swell the lumbering trash of medical libraries. Yes, it is these men of details, and of specialities, who split a hair with the greatest delicacy, who mole-like cannot see beyond the mole-cast they make, that give force to Condillac's saying when applied to medicine, “that man never has so much to say of a subject, as when he knows the least of it.” A diflerent spirit we find in Dr. Dickinson's lectures. In commencing his observations, he was fully impressed with the idea that details, different as they may appear, merge in each other, that they may be lost in unity, — this being an all-pervading law of nature; and so his results are as grand as they are just in conception. We can speak here, with the assurauce of personal experience, for in our own studies we have come to similar though not identical results, long before we ever heard of the Fallacies of the Faculty. His views may be briefly stated to consist in unity of disease, in variety of symptoms, the intermittent fever being the type of all the suffering that flesh is heir to. The nervous system in general, and the brain in particular, is the citadel from which life issues, and which disease assails. An equilibrium of temperature throughout the body is, in his opinion, absolutely essential to health; and any derangement of it, causes as well as accompanies disease; the evident indication in the cure therefore is, to restore it to its due degree by appropriate appliances. Thus periodicity of recurrence of disease and variability of temperature are the landmarks by which the physician is to be guided in his treatment.

The doctor advocates his views with great force of reasoning and abundance of wit and fancy; so much so, that the book is exceedingly attractive even to an unprofessional reader. With unsparing severity he poi its out many of the learned follies of the faculty, and with the most satisfactory proof he confutes the unphilosophical and murderous practice of bloodletting in all its forms.

Much as we admire the common-sense views of Dr. Dickinson, yet we are not entirely satisfied with him, for lie has overlooked some things and underrated others. His views do not enable us to look upon the economy of the human system, as complete in all points; perhaps he gives us only what he sees himself, and what is the most essential in the removal of diseases. Be it as it may, he deserves our gratitude for what he has done. It requires great moral courage to speak against the follies of mis-called science, and especially among the most conservative of all claws of men. Medicine never will be thoroughly [page 393:] reformed till men of common sense and decided talent, whose minds are stored with a variety of information, bring their ability to bear upon medical practices and theories, with no other aim than to advance Truth. The love of professional lucre too often stands in the way of truth — and it is asking too much from human nature to expect immolation of self on the altar of truth, at the hands of the medical profession — and especially when it is so crowded that a cunning dunce often stands a better chance of success than a man of modest talent and uprightness. It should be impressed upon the minds of men that what was said of poets is applicable to physicians with double force: Physicians are born, not made. Many who have received their doctorate find on their coming into the daylight of experience, that instead of the doctor's they have been crowned with the fool's-cap.

Looking upon the state of the medical profession in these times, we cannot but see omens of great good to come. It is so divided by different sects holding more or less correct views, that each must modify the other; and here and there a brave opponent arises who challenges them all; and a suspicious public begins to be aroused from its stupidity, and thinks that the evil is not in her body, but in that of the doctors — all this ferment of opinion may clarify man's judgment upon the subject, and some genius may arise who will select the truth that gives partial currency to the pretensions of each system, and render a lasting benefit to mankind. Perhaps his name may be Andrew Sniadecki, who sometime ago developed his theory of organic beings, and whose death Poland was made too soon to lament, or he upon whomever his cloak has fallen. We mention the distinguished Pole, because in the whole range of our medical reading, we find none who applies, in a more simple and beautiful diction, such a rigorous method of reasoning to such a vast fund of information; so much so that medicine in his hands almost becomes on of the exact sciences.