There are some diseases against
which the success of remedies is
next to sure. Those which are the
consequences of venereal exhaustion, and, a
fortiori, of self-pollution, do not enter into
this class; and the prognostic which is to
be made of them, when they shall have arrived
at a certain degree, has nothing in it
but what is desperately terrible.
Hippocrates has, in such case, denounced
Death. “It is a deplorable disorder,
says Boerhaave; I have often seen it,
but could never cure it.”[92]
M. Van Swieten had, for three years, a
patient whom he mentions for it, under his
hands, without success. I have seen some
perish miserably of this disorder. There
were even others of those patients, to whom I
could not so much as give relief. Yet these
examples should not intirely discourage:
there are not wanting instances of a happier
issue. Some may be found in the collection
of the Onania, and in the Observations of
Physicians; my own practice has furnished
me some. In the same place where Hippocrates
gives a description of this disease,
he points out means of cure.
“When, (says he,) the patient is in this
condition, let there be fomentations made
for him, over his whole body; then give
him a medicine that may provoke a puke;
after that, another to purge his head, and
then a cathartic by stool. After the purgatives,
give whey or asses milk; after that,
cows milk for forty days. While he drinks
milk, he must abstain from flesh meats,
and in the evening he may have some
boiled wheat. After his milk diet is over,
he should be nourished with the most tender
meats, beginning with a small quantity,
and by this means he will recover
afresh. For a whole twelvemonth he
must avoid all kind of debauchery, all venereal
indulgence, and all immoderate exercise;
he must confine himself to walks,
in which he will do well to avoid the
cold, or the sun.”
It is remarkable here, that Hippocrates
begins the method of cure by an emetic,
and by purging. Now there is a danger
of such an authority’s obtaining the force of
a law, and yet the observation of this law
would, in a number of cases, be pernicious.
But it is easy to get rid of this perplexity,
by observing, that he only ordered purgatives
in a view to divert the fluxion which he
supposed threw itself from the head on the
spine of the back; and that, in another place,
he puts those who are sick, after venereal
excesses, in the catalogue of those to whom
no purgatives should be given, “because not
only they can do no good, but, on the contrary,
they may do a great deal of harm[93].”
So that it is this last rule which must be
considered as the general one: the first constitutes
an exception, and an exception which
appears founded on a theory, of which the
error is now discovered, and which especially
therefore ought to have no force.
In Hoffman’s dissertation, which I have
already often quoted, there are to be found
two observations, that should recommend
great circumspection as to the use of emetics.
They are as follow:
A man of fifty years of age, having, for a
long time, indulged himself in excesses with
women, fell into a state of languor, emaciation,
and consumptiveness. His sight
grew dim, so that at length objects appeared
to him as if he saw them through a cloud.
It was at this epoch that he took an emetic
by way of preventing a fever, which he apprehended,
after a long use of eating ham.
This medicine made his head swell, and totally
deprived him of his eye-sight.
A common prostitute, who, every time
that she had commerce with a man, felt a
dimness in her eyes come upon her, having
taken an emetic, lost her eye-sight intirely[94].
M. Boerhaave seems to have rather
meant to establish the difficulties of the
cure, than to point out the means of obtaining
it.
“There are (says he) little hopes of cure;
the milk passes too easily; the exercise of
riding does no good to this kind of patients;
they complain that these remedies
weaken them; and, in fact, exercise encreases
the waste of their seed, in the
course of their nocturnal pollutions by
dreams, and at the same time diminishes
their strength. When the day re-appears,
they quit their beds, all bathed in their
own sweat, and but the weaker for even
their sleep; they cannot bear aromatics,
of which the effects are also dangerous.
The only resource, in these cases, is that
of aliments, a moderate exercise of the
body, bathing the feet, and frictions
used with precaution[95].”
Among the consultations of this great
man, which M. de Haller has added to
the edition which he has procured to us of
them, there is one for a man, who had
rendered himself totally impotent for the
joys of love.
“A man (as the case is stated) has so
much weakened the organs of generation,
that the seed comes away of itself, every
time that he has any beginning of erection,
for that is never a complete one[96],
and the seed never spurts forth with any
force, but dribbles away, drop by drop,
which renders him impotent; his memory,
stomach, loins, legs, are totally weakened.”
M. Boerhaave answered: “These disorders
are always extremely hard to cure:
they hardly ever declare themselves, but
when the body has lost so much of its vital
forces, that the remedies remain without
efficacy. However, it may not be
amiss to try what the following ones will
produce.
“First, A dry and temperate regimen,
composed of fowls, of beef, of mutton,
of kid, all rather roasted than boiled, a
small quantity of ale, but excellent in its
kind, of a very little wine, but then that
wine must be of a very generous restorative
sort.
“Secondly, A great deal of exercise, augmented,
by due degrees; it should only
border upon weariness, and always be taken
fasting.
“Thirdly, Frictions, with a flannel perfumed
with the smoke of incense, to be
used to the loins, the abdominal region,
the pubis, the groin, the scrotum, and regularly
repeated night and morning.
“Fourthly, He should take, every two
hours, half a drachm of the following
kind of electuary:
“℞. Terr. Japon. dr. iv. Opoponac. dr. v.
Cort. Peruv. dr. vi. Conserv. rosar.
rub. unc. i. Olib. dr. ii. Succ. acac.
unc. ß. Sir. Kerm. q. s. f. l. a.
cond.
“Immediately after which he should drink
half an ounce of the following medicinal
wine:
“℞. Rad. cariophil. mont. Pœn. mar. ana
unc. i. Cort. rad. capp. tamarisc. ana
unc. iß. Lign. agalloch. ver. unc. i.
Vin. Gall. alb. lib. vi. f. l. a. vin.
med.
“I hope (added Boerhaave) that the patient
will be cured, after having employed
this regimen for two months.”
But he would not make use of it, and
died, in a few weeks, of a malignant flux.
What would have been the effect of this
remedy? That can be only conjectured.
M. Zimmermann wrote to me, that he
had made a patient try it for two months,
but without any success.
M. Hoffman sets forth the precautions
which he conceived ought to be taken, and
the methods to be employed.
“We must (says he) avoid all the remedies
which do not agree with weak habits
of body, or that may weaken still more
those who are already enervated: such are
all astringents, all over-refrigerants, all
saturnines, nitrous, acid, and especially
narcotic medicines: all these are pernicious
in cases of this kind, and unfortunately
there is, however, too much use
made of them.
“The end to be proposed is to re-establish
the vital forces, and to restore to the
fibres the tension they have lost. Heating
remedies, volatiles, aromatics, those that
have an agreeable but strong odor, are not
proper here: nothing but the mildest aliments
should be allowed, such as are the
fittest to repair that nutritious gelatinous
substance, which immoderate evacuations
will have destroyed: such are strong broths
of beef, of veal, of capon, with a little of
wine, of lemon-juice, of salt, of nutmeg,
and cloves. To the use of this diet may
beneficially be joined, those remedies
which favor perspiration, and which reanimate
the languishing tone of the fibres.”
In another consultation for a self-pollutor,
he ordered the taking, every morning, a
certain measure of asses milk mixed with a
third of the quantity of Selter-water.
It would be useless here to quote the precepts,
or observations of other authors. I
shall content myself with relating here a very
instructive case, such as it stands in a thesis
of M. Wespremi, which thesis includes fourteen
observations, all interesting ones[97].
“W. Conybeare, about thirty-six years
old, had had, for six years past, his eyes
so dimmed, without any apparent blemish
in them, that he saw all objects as it were
through a thick cloud. He had been successively
in the three most celebrated hospitals
in London, St. Thomas’s, St. Bartholomew’s,
and St. George’s; at length,
about two years ago, he came to ours.
In all the others, after other remedies, it
had been tried whether a mercurial salivation
might not cure this kind of gutta
serena. The physicians were tired out,
and the patient quite discouraged. On my
interrogating him very particularly, and
very carefully, upon his illness, he told
me, that, from time to time, he felt a
pain all along the spine of his back, especially
when he stooped to take up any
thing; that his legs were so weak, that
he could scarce stand a minute upright,
without leaning, which if he did not, his
legs would tremble, and he had then a
vertigo and dizziness; that his memory
was so weakened, that he sometimes appeared
stupid; and I could myself observe,
that he was greatly emaciated. All this
made me suspect, that his gutta serena
might be no other than the symptom of
a more dreadful disorder, and that the
patient was attacked with a real tabes
dorsalis.
“I pathetically urged him to own to me,
whether he had not polluted himself with
the abominable crime of Onan, which
intirely destroys the balsamic parts of the
nervous fluid. After much hesitation, and
blushing, he confessed it. I ordered him
to take, over night, two mercurial pills,
containing six grains each, of mercurius
dulcis, and the next day an ounce of purgative
salts, and to repeat that four times
in the space of fifteen days. On the expiration
of that term, I made him, according
to the prescription of Hippocrates,
live forty days intirely upon a milk-diet,
during which time he used to have himself,
two or three times a week, rubbed,
as he went to bed. At the end of this
method of treatment, he returned from
the country, in a much better condition
than he had gone thither. I advised him,
afterwards the cold-bath for three weeks.
For two months together he took, twice
a day, the mineral electuary and volatile
julep, to which he joined frictions, and
the bathing his feet. These remedies so
far restored his health, that he wanted to
resume the exercise of his trade, which was
that of a baker; but I advised him to betake
himself to some other business, being
afraid that his inhaling the flower, that
rises in the kneading, might form in
his as yet weak stomach and breast, a
paste, of which the effects might be dangerous.”
M. Stehelin gave some relief to the
youth mentioned towards the end of the second
Section, by strengthening baths, by Tinct.
Mart. Ludovic. and by aperitive broths.
The principal remedies mentioned in the
Onania consist of nostrums, which the author
reserved to himself. It may be observed
on it, in general, and the observation is important,
that he employed no evacuants,
and that only corroboratives constituted the
basis of them, under the names of The
strengthening tincture, and The prolific powder.
They act, without that action’s producing
any sensible effect, but, as the author
says, they inrich, strengthen, and nourish
the parts of generation in both sexes. According
then to him, they give them new
vigor; they favor the generation of seed,
and powerfully restore oppressed nature: in
a word, like all nostrums, they do every
thing that is required of them. There is a
third secret remedy mentioned, under the
name of The restorative draught, which operates
very efficaciously, and, in fact, if any
faith may be given to the testimonies adduced
in favor of these remedies, they have
doubtless great virtue. Besides these three
nostrums, he gives some formularies: One
is a draught, composed of amber, aromatics,
and of some other remedies of that class:
A second is a liniment, composed of essential
oils, of balsams, of acrid tinctures. Both,
these compositions appear to me too stimulative,
and as they have not any experience
in their favor, I omit the particularising
them. He specifies two others, which seem
more proper.
Decoction.
℞. Flor. siccat. lamii[98] mpl. vi. Rad.
cyper. et galangal. ana unc. ii. Rad.
bist. unc. i. Rad. osmund. reg. unc. ii.
Flor. ros. rub. mpl. iv. Icthiocoll unc.
iii. Scissa tus mixt. cum aquæ quart. viii.
ad quartæ partis evaporat. coquantur.
Take a quart of this every day.
Injection.
℞. Sacchari Saturn. Vitriol, alb. Alum.
rup. ana drachm. i. Aq. chalyb. fabr.
℔ i ß. per dies decem igne arenæ digerantur.
Add. Spir. vin. camphorat.
cochl. iii.
Before I go on to the next Section, I think
myself bound to mention, that very sensible
views, applicable to the disease of which I
am treating, may be found in a book lately
published, intitled, Precis de Medecine pratique,
a work of M. Lieutaud, physician
to the young royal family of France, who,
after having got to himself a distinguished
name among the Anatomists and Physiologists,
has moreover secured to himself one
of the first ranks among the practitioners,
by his excellent treatise on intermittent and
remittent fevers.
The chapters of his last work relative to
the tabes dorsalis, are those which have for
their title calor morbosus, morbific heat, at
disease, be it here parenthetically remarked,
very frequent, of which no one had before
treated, and which has been often subjected
to improper methods of cure, as I have elsewhere
lamented, and of which M. Lieutaud
has been the first to unfold the symptoms,
the nature, and curative indication.
Vires exhaustæ, and anæmia, or deficiency of
blood, a very interesting chapter, which is
intirely and originally that author’s.
M. Lewis, whose work I could not procure
for myself before the impression of the
first edition of mine, is one who has the
most of any enlarged upon the method of
cure. I had the pleasure of finding that we
agreed perfectly in our ideas, and that we
employed the same remedies, especially the
bark, and the cold bath; a conformity which
appears to me a proof in favor of the practice
we have, in this case, both followed.
I shall only quote here the two aphorisms
that comprehend the substance of his doctrine:
I shall avail myself of some passages
in the explanation which he gives to them,
to confirm, in the following Section, my own
practice.
“The cure of this disease (says that able
physician) depends as much on knowing
what to avoid as what to do. Without a
nice regularity of the non-naturals, therefore,
medicine will have little or no effect.
Thus the salubrity of the air is or
great importance; the diet should be analeptic
and cooling; sleep little, and in
due season; moderate exercise must be
used, especially riding on horseback. The
secretions of the body are to be regulated
if out of order, and the patient should be
entertained with chearful company and
mirthful diversions. All the remedies that
are necessary, are derived from the two
classes of balsamics and astringents[99].”
He recommends strongly, in the place of
tea, which, he observes, is always prejudicial
to the nerves, the infusion of mint, or
balm, in every dish of which is to be put a
tea-spoonful of the balsamic mixture of
cream and yolks of eggs beat together, with
two or three drops of oil of cinnamon, which
he says give a very agreeable flavor, and is
highly grateful to the stomach[100]. This
indeed I have had occasion to remark myself,
of its being both balsamic and strengthening;
but I shall place here a remark that
may have its use: It is, that M. Lewis
specifies among the corroboratives, medicines
from lead, Tinct. faturnia[101]; and I think
it my duty to give this caution, without offence
to his authority and to that of other
respectable physicians, that the internal use
of all preparations of lead is a real poison,
according to the almost unanimous confession
of all the faculty. I have seen the most
tragical effects from it; and the shameless
rashness of quacks, furnishes but too many
occasions of observing such. But if the use
of it is to be preserved, like that of some
other poisons, let the administration of it at
least be reserved for those who are able to
discern its dangers and its virtues, and not
indicated without due precaution in works
designed for the public.
I shall conclude this Section with the method
employed by M. Storck in the cure
of these disorders: it is a very simple and a
very efficacious one. And by comparing
all these methods, it will be seen, that they
are all founded on the same principles, all
tend to the same end, and all employ means
nearly similar, a conformity which forms a
recommendation of the method, and inspires
confidence.
“I begin (says M. Storck) by trying
to restore the patient with nourishing
broths. Rice, oatmeal, barley boiled with
broth, or milk, or milk itself, are all very
serviceable; but it must be observed, to let
him eat but little at a time, and often.
Should the stomach be so weakened,
which is sometimes the case when the
disorder is far advanced, that it cannot
bear even these light aliments without
great anguish, the patient should be put
to the female breast of milk, a recourse
which has retrieved many out of the most
desperate condition. To restore strength
and activity to the relaxed fibres, I would
recommend the use of wine heated with
a hot iron, bark, and cinnamon. As soon
as the patient has strength enough to
walk, it will be of infinite service to him,
his going into the purest air of the country,
or mountains[102].”
There are some diseases of which it
is difficult to discover exactly the cause,
and consequently it must be so to determine
the indication, and to regulate the method
of cure; and yet such diseases are easily cured
when those points are once ascertained.
It is not so of the Tabes dorsalis. That disease
is known, its cause is known: (it is, as
M. Lewis observes, a particular sort of consumption,
of which the proximate cause is a
general debility of the nerves:) the indication
is easily formed, and there can be no
great differing in opinions about the essential
method of cure: and yet even the best
methods often fail; this is a reason the more
for fixing the particulars with exactness.
A general relaxation of the fibres, a
weakness of the nervous system, a depravation
of the fluids, are the causes of this evil.
It depends on the weakening of all the
parts; the great requisite is to restore strength
to them; this is the sole indication, which
has again its respective subdivisions, derived
from the different parts that are weakened;
but as the same remedies are of service in
them all, it is needless to particularise those
subdivisions here, which has been already
done in the course of this work.
Those who are totally ignorant of physic,
and who nevertheless talk more of it than
those who understand it, will probably think
it very easy to accomplish this indication;
and that with good aliments, and the cordials
with which pharmacy abounds, it is a
matter of great facility to restore strength;
while, on the contrary, sad experiences have
taught our greatest physicians that nothing
could be more difficult.
“It is easy (says M. Gorter) to diminish
the vital forces, but we have hardly
any thing capable to repair them[103].”
This may easily be conceived, on reflecting,
that aliments and remedies are nothing but
the instruments of which Nature makes use
to support itself, to repair her losses, and to
remedy the disorders which happen to the
body. And what is Nature? The aggregate
of the forces of the body harmoniously distributed.
It is the vital force respectively distributed
into the different parts. When
those forces are exhausted, Nature it is that
consequently fails; she is the working architect
that no longer executes her functions;
furnish her with materials, as long as you
please, she is in no condition to employ them.
You may bury an architect, with all his
building, under stone, wood, and mortar,
without an inch of a wall being thereby repaired.
Just so it is with diseases dependent
on the destruction of the vital forces: the
aliments repair nothing, the remedies operate
nothing. I have seen stomachs so weakened,
that aliments received from it no more
preparation than in a vessel of wood: sometimes
they take place in it according to the
laws of their specific gravities, and when,
at length, a new ingestion has, by its
weight, irritated the stomach, they have
been known, on a slight effort, to come
away, successively, clearly separate one from
another. At other times, through a long
stay in the stomach, they corrupt in it, and
are vomited up just as if they had been
suffered to putrify in a vessel of silver or
porcelain. What good can be hoped from
aliments of this sort? The exhaustion of
strength is not, indeed, so considerable in all:
there are some in whom the vital forces are
only weakened without being totally destroyed;
for these there remains some resource in
aliments, and even in remedies. What
remains unperished of Nature draws some
benefit from aliments: as to the remedies,
they are to be sought for among those which
have been observed to be fittest for re-animating
that principle of the vital action
which is verging to extinction: these are the
adventitious aids, with which the architect
is to be enabled to work at his task at the
least expence possible of the strength that is
left him: sometimes, too, they serve, as a
spur to a weak horse, that may oblige him
to make an effort to get out of a plunge in a
slough; but what expertness, what prudence
are not required, to be able at one cast of
the eye, to judge comparatively the depth of
the slough, and the strength of the animal?
If the attempt is beyond his strength, that
spur will, it is true, oblige him to make an
effort; but if that effort is not sufficient to
disengage him, and bring him into the good
road again, it will only serve to totally exhaust
him.
The weakness which is produced by self-pollution,
is attended with such a difficulty
in the choice of restorative remedies, as
does not occur in other cases; which is,
that those articles must, with the greatest care,
be avoided, that, bringing with them any
irritation, might awaken the sensual passion.
In the animal mechanism, that mechanism
so different from the inanimate, and so
little subjected to the same rules, there is a
law, that, when the motions augment, the
augmentation is the most considerable in the
parts the most susceptible. In self-polluters
those parts are the generative ones. It is in
these parts that the effect of the irritating
remedies will the most sensibly manifest
itself; and the dangerous consequences of
this effect cannot be too circumstantially
guarded against in the choice of the means
of cure. What then are they to be? This is
what I shall examine, after having particularised
the regimen. In this particularisation, I
shall follow the common division of the six
non-naturals, as they are termed, Air, Aliments,
Rest, Motion, the natural Evacuations,
and the Passions.
Air has the influence over us, that
water has over fish, and even a much
more considerable one. Those who know
how great a power the air has, and who
also know that there have been Epicures who
could, by the taste, discover not only the
river, but even the part of the river out of
which the fish had been taken;
——lupus hic Tiberinus an alto
Captus hiet, pontesne inter jactatus an amnis
Ostia sub Tusci?
Hor.
such, I say, will easily be sensible of the
importance it is of to the sick, their breathing
one air preferable to another. Such as
may have once entered into a room inhabited
without being aired; such as may have
kept walking on the side of a marsh in the
heats; or have resided in low places, surrounded,
on all sides, with eminences; such
as have made a transition from a populous
town to the country; who have breathed the
air at sun-rise or at mid-day, before or after
a shower of rain; all these, I say, will conceive
how great an influence the air has
over health.
Temperie cœli corpusque, animusque juvatur.
Ovid.
The sick or weakly have, more than others,
need of a good air; it is a remedy that acts,
and perhaps the only one that does so, without
the concurrence of our nature’s vital
forces, to which it gives no trouble, and is
no draught upon them: and for that very
reason, it is of the greatest importance not
to neglect it. That air which is the properest
for a general atony or relaxation, is a
dry, temperate air: too moist, or too hot
an air are pernicious. I know one labouring
under a disorder of this kind, whom great
heats throw into a total faintness or exhaustion
of strength, and whose state of
health varies in summer, according to the
vicissitudes of days less hot or less cold. A
cold air is much less to be dreaded; and it
is necessarily, and according to Nature, that
it should be so. Heat relaxes still more the
fibres which are already but too relaxed,
and dissolves still more the humors already
too much dissolved: Cold, on the contrary,
is a remedy against these two evils. When
the Caribes are attacked with the palsy,
after, and in consequence of those dreadful
convulsions of the cholic, to which they are
subject, when they cannot be sent to the
warm-baths in the north of Jamaica, the
other expedient is to send them to some
place of a colder air than that of their country;
and this bare change of air has always
manifestly a favorable effect.
Another essential quality of the air, is,
that it should not be impregnated with
noxious particles: that it should not have
lost, by its stay or stagnation in inhabited
places, that kind of reviving quality which
constitutes all its efficacy, and which might
be called its vital spirit as necessary to plants
as to animals; and such is the air one
breathes in a country, open, airy, interspersed
with the verdure of herbs, bushes,
and trees.
“Let the sick, says Aretæus[104], live
near meadows, fountains, rivulets; the
freshness they exhale, and the gaiety
which those objects inspire, fortify the
mind, restore strength to the body, and
give new life.”
The air of the town, continually sucked
in and let out again, continually crouded
with foul vapors or infected exhalations,
combines at once the two inconveniences of
possessing less of that vital spirit, and of being
big with noxious particles.
On the other hand, the air of the
country is enriched with the two opposite
qualities. It is a pure virgin air, an air
impregnated with all that is the most volatile,
the most agreeable, the most cordial,
in the effluvia of the plants, and in the
vapor of the earth, which is itself very salubrious.
But it would be of no use to fix on a place
with a good air to live in, if one does not
chuse to breathe it. The air of rooms, or
chambers, if it is not continually renewed,
is nearly the same in all. It can hardly be
called a change of air, from a close room in
town to a close room in the country. There
is no enjoying the benefits of a healthy atmosphere
but in the open fields. If infirmities,
or weakness, hinder the procurement
of that benefit, by the going or the being
carried thither, at least the air of the room,
or chamber, should be renewed several times
in a day; not simply by opening a door or
a window, which renews it only a little, but
in letting into the chamber a torrent of fresh
air, by opening, all at once, two or three
different and opposite inlets. There is no
disorder that does not require this precaution;
but it is requisite not to expose the
sick person to the force of the current of air,
and it is always very easy to place him out of
the power of it.
It is also extremely important to breathe
the morning air. Those who deprive themselves
of it, for the sake of remaining in a
stifling atmosphere between four curtains,
voluntarily renounce the most agreeable, and
perhaps the most strengthening of all remedies.
The freshness of the night will, by
morning, have restored to the air all its vivifying
principle; and the dew which evaporates,
by degrees, after having loaded itself
with all the balm of the flowers on
which it will have dwelt, renders the air
truly medicinal; you solace yourself in a vaporous
bath of the essence of plants, the air
of which you continually draw in, and of
which nothing can be equivalently substituted
to the good effect. The ease, the refreshment,
the strength, the appetite, which
we may feel procured by it, for the rest of
the day, are a proof in every one’s power,
and a stronger one than all that I could add.
I have, very recently, seen the most sensible
effects of it on some valetudinarians,
and especially on such as were hypochondriacs:
these experienced, in the clearest
manner, that if they indulged themselves in
breathing the morning air, they were always
the more chearful, the more lively,
for the rest of the day; and those who passed
that rest of the day with them, could not,
by that mark, be mistaken as to the hour
of their rising.
It is easy then to conceive, how important
this effect is for those who are affected, in
any degree, with the Tabes dorsalis, who
are so often hypochondriacal; and in whom
a return of chearfulness is alone sufficient to
furnish an unquestionable sign of a general
amendment of health.
In the choice of Aliments I would recommend
the two following rules:
First, To take no aliments, but what,
under a small volume, contain a great deal
of nourishment, and are of easy digestion.
This is an aphorism of Sanctorius: Coïtus
immoderatus postulat cibos paucos et boni
nutrimenti[105].
Secondly, To avoid all that have any
acridity.
It is of great importance to restore to the
stomach all its strength; and nothing is
more destructive of the forces of the animal
fibres than an over-stretch; so that the dilatation
of the stomach by an over-abundance
of aliments would daily weaken it:
besides, if it is too full, weak persons feel
a state of uneasiness, of anguish, of debility,
and melancholy, that augments all their disorders.
Both these inconveniences are prevented
by the choice of aliments, such as I
have recommended, by taking of them a
little at a time, and frequently. It is essential
that they should afford an easy nutrition:
the stomach is in no condition with persons
in their state, to conquer any thing hard of
digestion: its action, which is extremely
faint and languid, would be totally destroyed
by aliments too indigest, or of a nature to
diminish its strength.
Upon these principles may be formed a
catalogue of such as are proper in this case,
and of those which should be excluded. In
this last class are all flesh-meats naturally
hard and indigestible; such as pork; all
flesh of old animals; all that has been hardened
by salt or smoak, a preparation which,
at the same time, renders them acrid: all
that are too fat, or greasy; a quality which,
in any other subject of aliment whatever,
relaxes the fibres of the stomach, diminishes
the action, already too weak, of the digestive
juices; they remain indigested, dispose
to obstructions, and acquire, by their
stay in the stomach, an acridity, which,
breeding a continual irritation, gives inquietude,
pains, want of rest, anguish,
feverishness. In short, there is nothing
which persons of a weak digestion ought
more carefully to avoid, than fat or greasy
food. Unfermented pastry-ware, especially
when kneaded up with fat, is another sort
of aliment much above the strength of a
weak stomach. Flatulent garden-stuff is also
very noxious, by producing a turgescence
that distends it, and at the same time cramps
the circulation in the neighbouring parts;
such, in general, are all forts of cabbage, of
leguminous pulse, and such plants as have
a taste and smell remarkably acrid, which
last quality renders them noxious, independently
of their flatulency.
Fruits, which are so salutary in acute and
inflammatory distempers, in obstructions,
especially those of the liver, and in several
other disorders, are never proper in this
case; they weaken, relax, and enervate the
strength of the stomach; they augment the
attenuation of the blood, already too aqueous;
and ill digested, they ferment in the
stomach and intestines, and this fermentation
sets free an astonishing quantity of air,
which produces enormous distensions, that
absolutely disturb the course of the circulation.
I have, in a woman, seen this effect:
so considerable, for her having eaten too
many cherries and currants, four and twenty
hours after a very easy delivery, that her
belly was stretched to such a degree as to
become livid; she appeared lethargically
dozing, and her pulse was almost imperceptible.
Fruits also leave, in the first passages,
a principle of acidity, apt to occasion several
dangerous symptoms, so that it is necessary
to abstain almost totally from them. Crude
garden-stuff, vinegar, verjuice, have the like
inconveniences, and deserve the like exclusion.
But though the catalogue of prohibited
articles of food be a long one, that of the
allowable ones is still longer. It comprehends
the flesh of all young animals, fed in
healthy places, and wholesomely fed; such
especially is that of veal, lamb, or young
mutton, young beef, fowl, pigeon, turkey,
partridge. Lark, thrushes, quails, and other
wild fowl, without being absolutely forbidden,
are, however, attended with such
inconveniences, as not to allow of their entering
into daily food. Fish is under the
same restriction.
But it is not enough only to chuse your
flesh-meats with due discernment, but they
must also be properly prepared. The best
way is to roast them by a gentle fire, so as to
preserve their gravy, and not dry them up
too much; or to stew them slowly in their
own juices. The flesh-meats that are boiled
in too much water, give out to it all that
they have of juiciness, and remain incapable
of nourishing: thus they often become nothing
but fleshy fibres deprived of their
nutritious juice, and equally insipid to the
taste, and indigestible to the stomach. It is
common for weak persons, and even for
such of them as are above all suspicions of
being too nice, not to be able to eat of them
without their stomach being disordered by
them. The more tender flesh meats are, the
less they can bear this preparation, which,
in the case of sick people, ought to be
reserved for extracting by it from hard or
tough meats whatever nourishment they
may contain.
Yet whatever preparation may be carefully
employed upon the flesh meats, there
are persons who cannot digest them: and
to them it becomes as necessary to give
them the broth, extracted by a gentle boiling;
but as that has too great a tendency to
putrefaction, it must be accompanied with
some bread, and a dash of lemon juice, or a
little wine: such a mixture is of the most
desirable, in that case, for nourishment.
Some lobsters boiled, and crushed in the
broth, heighten its relish, and make it perhaps
more strengthening; but they have the
double inconvenience, of being somewhat
heating, and of rendering the broth more
susceptible of a quick corruption; so that on
these two accounts it is good to be on one’s
guard.
Bread and garden-stuff have not the advantage
of containing at once a great deal of
nourishment in a small quantity; but the
use of them, especially of bread, is indispensably
necessary, to prevent, not only the
distaste which the use of a regimen consisting
totally of animal meats would not fail of
producing, but also that putridity which
would be the consequence of them, if not
mixed with vegetables. Without this precaution,
there would soon a spontaneous
alkali disclose itself in the first passages,
with all the disorders consequential thereto.
I have seen terrible accidents produced by
this regimen, in weak persons, to whom it
had been prescribed. One of the commonest
symptoms is, thirst; they are obliged
to drink, and drink weakens them: besides,
the liquid they drink does not easily mix
with the humors of the body, as that mixture
depends on the action of the vessels,
which is very languid; and if, unfortunately,
as is not unfrequent with those who do not
use much motion, the action of the kidneys
diminishes, the liquids pass into the cellular
membrane, and immediately form œdematous
swellings there, and, at length, dropsies
of all kinds.
These dangers are prevented by a due
alliance of the vegetable regimen with the
animal. The best garden-ware are, the
tender roots, herbs of the endive kind, artichoaks,
asparagus. There are some others,
which, though tender, are of disservice;
being too cooling, they deaden the strength
of the stomach.
Farinaceous grains, prepared and boiled
in cream, with flesh broth, are an aliment
not to be slighted, as it combines every
thing that is nourishing in the two kingdoms
animal and vegetable, while their mixture
prevents the danger from each aliment
given single; the broth hinders the meal
from turning sour, the meat the broth from
putrefying. By reading, with a little reflexion,
observant Naturalists, it may easily
be perceived, that distempers are more malignant
in the north of Europe than in its
middle regions: may not that be owing to
more flesh meats being eaten in proportion
than vegetables?
What I have above said of fruits, need
not, however, hinder, where the stomach
still preserves something of its strength, one’s
indulging one’s self, now and then, with a
small quantity of the best chosen for the
sort, and for ripeness; the most watery
are those which are the least proper.
Eggs are an aliment of the animal kind,
and an aliment extremely useful; they
strengthen greatly, and are easy of digestion,
provided that they have but little or even no
preparation by fire, for if the white is once
hardened it does not dissolve again; it becomes
heavy, indigest, and unnutritious: it
might then be the aliment of those who
digest too quickly, and not of those who
have rather no digestion. The best way of
eating them, is just as they are new laid
from the fowl, without any preparation, or
in the shell, after only three or four dips in
boiling water, or stirred into warm, and not
boiling broth.
Conclusively; there remains to mention
the aliment from milk; which unites all
the qualities that can be desired, without
having any of the inconveniences that are to
be dreaded. It is the most simple, the
most easily assimilable, and the quickest
restorative: all prepared as it is by nature,
it needs no risk of spoiling it by an artificial
preparation: like the broth of flesh meats
it nourishes, but is not susceptible of putridity;
it prevents thirst, it supplies the place
of meat and drink; it keeps up all the secretions;
it disposes for tranquil sleep; in short,
it fulfils all the indications that present themselves
in this case. M. Lewis attests its
having produced the best effects[106]. Why
then is not it always employed, always substituted
to the other aliments? Answer.
For a reason which is peculiar to it, which
unnaturalises its effect, and which makes it
sometimes produce a very different one, from
that which might be hoped from it, or reasonably
expected.
This reason is, that sort of decomposition
to which it is subject. If the digestion
of it is not very quick, if it stays too long
in the stomach, or if, without too long a
stay there, it meets in it with matters of a
nature to hasten that decomposition, it undergoes
in the stomach all the changes,
which fall under our observation, out of it.
The butyrous, the caseous, the serous parts
separate; the whey sometimes occasions a
quick diarrhœa; sometimes it passes off by
the urinary passages, or by perspiration without
nourishing; the other parts, if they stay
in the stomach, are not long before they
trouble it, cause uneasy sensations, bloatedness,
loathings, cholics; and if one is not
immediately affected by them, it is because
they will have passed into the intestines,
where they may, it is true, remain some
time without a sensible prejudice, but they
acquire there a singular acridity, and after
a certain time they produce mischiefs which
the delay will not have rendered the less
dangerous; and, indeed, it may be established
for a law, that should render one
extremely circumspect in the prescription of
it in dangerous cases, that if it is an aliment
of which the digestion is the easiest, it is
also that of which the indigestion is the
most noxious. We have already mentioned
the difficulties that Boerhaave found in
the use of it; but however great they may be,
the advantages to be drawn from it are so
considerable, that it is worth while to study
all possible means for surmounting them, and
happily such means there are. They may
be ranged under two classes; attentions to
the regimen, and the medicines. Of these
last I shall refer the discussion to one of the
following articles.
The attentions to the regimen are, first,
the choice of the milk. From whatever
species it may be determined to procure it,
the female that furnishes it should be healthy,
and live regular: Secondly, during the
time of taking it, all aliments should be
avoided that can turn it sour; such are all
fruits, raw or prepared, and in general
every thing that is acid: Thirdly, it must be
taken at times very distant from other aliments;
it not taking kindly any mixture:
Fourthly to take only a little of it at a time:
Fifthly, all the while to take care of keeping
the breast, the abdominal region, and the
legs extremely warm: and, above all, Sixthly,
(for without this precaution all the others
would be useless,) to be very moderate as to
the quantity of even the best chosen aliments.
During this recourse to milk, there
should be no trouble given to the stomach;
the smallest over-load, the slightest indigestion,
leaves in it a principle of corruption,
which presently turns the milk, and may,
of the most wholesome of aliments, make a
poison sometimes very violent, and, at least,
almost always infallibly one, in a greater or
less degree.
Another question occurs: What is the
milk that merits preference? In answer to
this, I will not enter into an examination of
the various sorts of milk; this would be
over-lengthening my work by an adventitious
subject; for satisfaction in which there are
many recourses extant, and perhaps none
better than a dissertation, now indeed out of
print, of the late Mons. d’Apples, M. D.
and Professor of Greek and Morality in this
College[107].
Now-a-days there are hardly any kinds
of milk used but of the female breast, or of
asses milk, the goat’s, or the cow’s. Each
has its different qualities: it is the comparison
of these qualities, and of the indication
presented by the disorder, that should
determine the choice from among them.
There are few cases in which milk from the
cow may not be succedaneously used for all
the others. That from the female breast is
generally believed the most strengthening:
it is the notion of the greatest masters in the
art, and yet this opinion bears upon a ruinous
foundation, which is, the women’s making
use of animal food, without considering
at the same time that the preference is
constantly given to the milk of a hale robust
nurse from the country, who eats no flesh-meats,
or, at least, very little, and who lives
only upon bread and vegetables. I believe,
however, that there are cases in which it
may be tried with success. The noble cures
operated by the use of it, leave no doubt of
its efficacy; but there is one inconvenience
which is peculiar to it, which is, that it
must be taken immediately from the breast
that furnishes it: this is a precaution, of
which Galen has already taken notice of
the necessity, and, in ridicule of those who
would not care to confine themselves to it,
he refers them “like asses, to asses milk.”
But in the case of recourse to the female
breast for lactation, might not the vessel of
conveyance excite those desires which the
main point is to keep under? Might it not
expose the patient to the temptation of renewing
the adventure of that Prince, the
story of whom Capivaccio has preserved
to us? He had two nurses given him, whose
milk produced so good an effect, that he put
them both into a condition of supplying him,
at the end of some months, with new milk
on a fresh account, if he should happen to
need it.
It is thought that asses milk has the nearest
analogy to that of the female breast; but,
if I may be allowed to say it, this assertion
is rather matter of opinion than of experience.
It is the most serous, and, from that
very quality, the most laxative. It is a most
pernicious error the imagining it the most
strengthening. Daily observations demonstrate
the contrary, and prove not only that
it is not the most efficacious, but that it is,
perhaps, the least so. I have rarely seen
any good effects from it; sometimes I have
seen bad ones, and am not the only one
that has seen them. M. de Haller, writing
to me, says, “It appears to me, that
this same asses milk rarely does what it is
desired to do.” Now, the inutility of a
pretended remedy, in disorders where the
hopes of a cure are founded on it, is one of
the most grievous defects. M. Hoffman
advised it in cases where there were at once
an exhaustion and a desire[108].
Before I quit this subject of Aliments, I
ought to conclude with the counsel of Horace,
to avoid mixtures.
——nam variæ res
Ut noceant homini credas, memor illius escæ
Quæ simplex olim sederit, at, simul assis
Miscueris elixa: simul conchylia turdis;
Dulcia se in bilem vertent; stomachoque tumultum
Lenta feret pituita.
To sense it is obvious enough, without
any need to insist on this advice, how impossible
it is for very different aliments to
undergo, within the same time, a perfect
digestion: this mixture it is which is one of
the causes that ruin the healthiest constitutions,
and is mortal to weak ones: it cannot
be too carefully avoided.
Another attention equally necessary, and
almost equally neglected, is, a thorough
mastication. This is a help to digestion,
of which even the most vigorous stomachs
cannot be long deprived, without a notable
decline or diminution; and without which
the digestion in weak ones is extremely imperfect.
Nothing but a long and attentive
observation could satisfy one of the infinite
importance to health of a careful mastication.
I have seen the most stubborn diseases of the
stomach, and the most inveterate languors,
dissipated singly by this attention. On the
other hand, I have seen persons in good
health fall into infirmities, when their
teeth, being damaged, no longer suffered
them to employ any but an imperfect mastication;
nor recovered they their health,
till, after a total loss of their teeth, their
gums acquired such a hardness as to enable
them to supply their function.
So many particulars, so many precautions,
so many self-denying privations, will seem
very fit to verify this line of M. Procope,
Vivre selon nos loix c’est vivre miserable.
By physic’s laws to live ’s a wretched life.
But is there any paying too dear for health?
How amply are you satisfied for the sacrifices
you make, by the enjoyment of it,
and by the pleasures it throws into all the
moments of your life? “Without health
(says Hippocrates) there can be no enjoyment
of any earthly good; honors,
riches, and all other advantages are of no
avail[109].”
Besides, these sacrifices are much less than
it is commonly imagined they are. I could
quote many witnesses, to whom, after just
the first days, it no longer cost them any
pain to renounce the variety and savoriness
of rich viands, for the sake of a simplicity
of regimen: which is what nature points
out, and is the most pleasing to well constituted
organs. A healthy palate, which has
all the sensibility that it ought to have, can
have no relish but for plain meats; made
dishes and high sauces are insupportable to
it, while, in the least savory aliments, it finds
a relish, and a variety of relish, which escape
the depraved, worn out, or furred organs of
taste: so that those who return to the simplicity
of nature in their aliments, whether it
is for their health, or from convinced reason,
or from a contracted distaste to high eating,
may be assured, that so fast as they shall recover
their health, they will find in plain aliments
a delight of the palate which they did
not suspect in them. A fine ear discerns the
slight difference between two notes, which
will have escaped a less sensible ear: just so
it is with the nerves of the organs of taste;
when they are in exquisite order, they perceive
the slightest varieties of savors, and
are sensible to them; the water-drinkers
meet with waters as flattering to their taste
as the most exquisite Falernian could be to
drinkers of wine, and others as disagreeable
to them, as to those the pricked wines of
Brie.
But even were there not rational hopes of
pleasure in the plain regimen, and I am sure
it is not hard to accommodate one’s self to that
which I have indicated, the satisfaction one
must feel, the consideration that, in submitting
to it, one is fulfilling a duty to
one’s self, must be a greatly pressing motive,
as well as a justly flattering reward, for
those who can know all the value of the
being well with one’s self.
The liquid part of aliments, or the drink,
is an article of the regimen almost as important
as the solid, or eating.
All liquids should be forbidden that can
augment the weakness or relaxation, that
can diminish the little that remains of the
digestive powers, that can convey any acridity
into the humors, or dispose the nervous
system, already too irritable, to a greater
mobility. All hot waters have the first
defect, of weakening or relaxing. Tea,
with that, has also all the others: coffee has
the two last; so that one ought rigorously to
abstain from them. The author of a work
superior to all encomiums, and of which
those who interest themselves in the progress
of the medical art, wait with the
greatest impatience for the continuation, has
presented such an account of the danger of
these two liquids, as might very well disgust
or deter from the use of them those who
find the greatest pleasure in them[110].
Spirituous liquors, which, at the first view
might appear serviceable, for that they operate
precisely the contrary of hot water, of
which they really diminish the danger, if
added to it in a small quantity, are, however,
attended with other inconveniences
that authorise their rejection, or at least restrain
them to an extremely rare recourse.
Their action is too violent, too transient;
they irritate more than they strengthen, and
if they sometimes strengthen, the weakness
which succeeds is greater than before a recourse
to them: besides, they give to the papillæ
of the stomach a hardness that robs them
of that degree of sensibility necessary to the
creation of an appetite, and take from the
liquids that degree of fluidity which they
ought to have in aid of that sensation; and,
indeed, the great drinkers of spirituous liquors
are strangers to it. “Those (says the
illustrious author whom I have just now
quoted) who every day drink strong liquors
after their meals, by way of remedying the
defects of digestion, could hardly find a
more likely method for accomplishing just
the contrary to what they propose, and to
destroy the powers of digestion.”
The best drink is water from the purest
spring, mixed, equal parts, with a wine
neither too heady nor too acid: the heady
kinds sensibly irritate the nervous system,
and produce in the humors a transient rarefaction,
of which the effect is an extension
of the vessels, that leaves them afterwards
the laxer for it, and to augment the dissolution
of the humors: the acid kinds weaken
the digestions, irritate, and procure over-copious
urines, which exhaust the patients.
The best are those which have the least of
spirit and of salt, the most of terrestrial and
oily, which constitutes what is called racy,
generous wines: such are the red wines of
Burgundy, of the Rhône, of Neufchâtel,
and a few kinds in this country, (Lausanne,)
the old white wines of Grave, the choice
ones of Pontac, the wines of Spain, Portugal,
the Canaries, and, where procurable,
those of Tockay, superior perhaps to those
of all the world besides, both for salubrity
and deliciousness to the taste. As to common
use there are none preferable to those
of Neufchâtel.
In places where good water is not to be
come at, it may be corrected by filtration,
by a hot iron, or an infusion of some agreeable
aromatics, such as cinnamon, aniseed,
lemon-peel.
Common beer is noxious. Mum which
is properly an extract from grain, both
nourishing and strengthening, may be of
great use: rich of spirit, it enlivens as much
as wine, and is more nutritious; it may
serve for meat and drink.
Among the useful drinks, may be ranked
chocolate, which belongs perhaps more properly
to the class of solid aliments; the cocoa
contains a great deal of nutritious substance,
and the mixture with it of sugar and aromatics
corrects any detriment from its oiliness.
“Chocolate made with milk (says M.
Lewis) in such quantities as to pass easy
off the stomach, is an excellent breakfast
for a tabid constitution. I knew a child
twelve years old who was in the last stage
of a consumption, when given over by a
Physician, recovered by the mother’s giving
her chocolate only, in small quantities,
often repeated. Indeed it is an aliment
that for weak constitutions cannot be too
much recommended[111].” Be it, however,
remarked, that there are some to whom it
might prove very pernicious.
One general attention to be observed is,
that too great a quantity of any drink whatever
should be avoided: it weakens the
digestions by relaxing the stomach; by
drowning the digestive juices, and by precipitating
the aliments before they are well
digested; it relaxes all the parts, it dissolves
the humors; it disposes to urines and to
sweats that exhaust the patients. I have seen
disorders produced by an atony, considerably
lessened, by no other means of assistence,
than by a retrenchment of a part of the
liquids for drinking.
What is to be said of sleep, may be
reduced to three points; its duration,
the time of taking it, and the precaution
necessary for a quiet undisturbed enjoyment
of it.
In grown persons seven hours of sleep, or
at the most eight, are sufficient for any one:
there is even a danger in sleeping longer,
and in remaining longer a bed, which throws
one into the same disorders as an excess of
rest. If any could wish to indulge it longer,
it might be those who give themselves a
great deal of motion, and of violent motion,
during the day time; but it is not those who
practise such indulgence; on the contrary, it
is those who lead the most sedentary life.
Thus that term ought never to be exceeded,
unless one should be fallen into such a degree
of weakness as not to have the strength
necessary left for the being long up; in
which case, however, one should try to
keep so as long as possible. “The more
moderate the quantity of his sleep (says
Mr. Lewis) the sweeter and more invigorating
will it be.”
It stands demonstrated, that the air of the
night is less healthy than that of the day,
and that the weakly sick are more susceptible
of its influences in the evening than the
morning; as then, during our sleep, we are
confined to a small part of the atmosphere,
which our bodies also would not fail of corrupting;
it is to sleep that that time should
be appropriated, in which the air is the
least healthy, and in which the being up in
it would be the most pernicious; so that it
is best to go to bed early, and rise early.
This is a precept so commonly known, that
it may appear trivial to recall it to mind;
but it is actually so much neglected, the consequence
of it seems to be so little felt,
though infinitely greater than it is believed
to be, that it is very allowable to suppose it
unknown, and to re-inculcate it by an insistence
on its importance, especially to valetudinarians.
Mr. Lewis gives it for his opinion,
“That if a patient lies down at ten o’ clock,
which hour he should never exceed, he
ought to rise in the summer-time at four
or five, in the winter at six or seven, under
an absolute prohibition of an indulgence
in bed in the morning.” He recommends
even the forming a habit of getting
up after one’s first sleep, and avers, that
uneasy as this custom might be at the first,
it would soon become easy and agreeable[112].
A number of examples attest the salutariness
of this advice: there are many valetudinarians
who feel themselves light and well on
waking out of their first sleep, and who experience
a laborious restlessness on yielding
to the temptation of going to sleep again:
they are as sure of passing a good day of it,
if, at whatever the hour be of their waking
out of their first sleep they immediately get
up, as of passing it disagreeably, if they give
way to the second.
Sleep is not tranquil but where there are
no causes of irritation: which ought therefore
to be carefully prevented. Three of
the most important attentions are;
First, Not to be in a hot air, and to be
neither too much nor too little covered.
Secondly, Not to have the feet cold at lying
down; an accident common to weak
persons, and which is, for many reasons,
hurtful to them. The rule of Hippocrates
should be scrupulously observed, To
sleep in a cool place, taking care to cover one’s
self[113].
Thirdly, And what is yet more important,
not to lie down upon a full stomach:
nothing disturbs more the sleep, nor contributes
more to render it disquieting, painful,
heavy, or overwhelming, than a laborious
digestion in the night. Depression of spirits,
weakness, disgust, weariness, incapacity
of thought or of application to any thing
the next day, are the inevitable consequences.
——vides ut pallidus omnis
Cœna desurgat dubia? Quin corpus onustum,
Hesternis vitiis animum quoque prægravat una
Atque affligit humo divinæ particulam auræ.
Hor.
On the contrary, nothing is more efficacious
toward procuring a sweet, calm, uninterrupted,
refreshing sleep, than a light supper.
Freshness, agility, gaiety, are, the ensuing
day, its necessary consequences.
Alter, ubi dicto citius curata sopori
Membra dedit, vegetus præscripta ad munia surgit.
Ibid.
“The time of sleep (says Mr. Lewis,
with great reason) is that of nutrition,
and not of digestion.” Accordingly he
requires of his patients the greatest severity
as to their supper: he prohibits to them,
and never was a juster prohibition, all flesh-meats
at that meal; he allows them nothing
but a little milk, and some bread sippets,
and that two hours before they go to bed
that the first digestion may be over before
they lie down to sleep. The Atlantics, who
were strangers to an animal diet, and who
never ate any thing that had life, were famous
for the tranquillity of their sleep,
and hardly so much as knew what dreams
were.
Exercise is a point of absolute necessity.
To the weak it is a pain to
take it; and if they have any inclination to
melancholy or dejection of spirit, it is not
easy to determine them to motion; and yet
nothing is more apt to augment all the evils
that proceed from weakness, than inactivity;
the fibres of the stomach, of the intestines,
of the vessels, are lax; the humors every
where stagnate, because the solids have no
longer the strength to impress on them the
necessary motion: thence are generated lodgments
of matter, choaked up passages, obstructions,
extravasations; coction, nutrition,
the secretions, do not proceed; the blood
remains aqueous, the strength diminishes,
and all the symptoms of the disorder increase.
Exercise prevents all these evils, by
augmenting the force of the circulation; all
the functions execute themselves as if there
existed in the body a real strength for it,
and this regularity of the functions does not
fail soon to give it, so that the effect of motion
is to supplement the vital forces, and
to restore them. Another of its advantages,
independent of the augmentation of circulation,
is its enabling one to enjoy an air always
new. A person that does not stir,
soon corrupts the air which surrounds him,
and becomes noxious to him: whereas a
person in action is continually changing it.
Motion may often supply the place of remedies,
but all the remedies in the world cannot
supply the place of motion.
The fatigue of the first days of attempting
it, is a rock against which the faint heart
of many of the sick is apt to split; but if
they had the courage to conquer this first
obstacle, they would soon be experimentally
sensible, that to this case especially it is that
that proverbial saying is truly applicable, Il
n’y a que les premiers pas qui coûtent: “It
is only the first steps that are hard to take.”
I have been myself astonished at seeing to
what a degree those who had not been disheartened
at the first, acquired strength by
exercise. I have seen persons fatigued with
one turn in a garden, arrive, in a few weeks,
at being able to take a walk two leagues,
and be the better after it.
The exercise of walking on foot is not
the only favorable one. For persons extremely
weak, for such as have a complaint
of their bowels or breast, riding on horseback
is even better: but in a still greater
weakness, the motion of a carriage, if not
too easy an one, is preferable. When the
weather does not allow of going out, some
means of motions should be contrived, in
the house, some not too laborious occupation,
or some exercise of play; such, for
example, as the battledore and shuttle-cock,
which diffuses through the whole body an
equable motion.
A return of appetite, of sleep, of chearfulness,
are the necessary consequences of
motion; but the precaution should be observed,
of not taking any thing of a violent
motion immediately after a meal, and not
to eat while warm from exercise; which
should be taken before a meal, with allowance
of some moments of rest before the sitting
down to it.
The evacuations are apt to be disordered
along with the other functions,
and their disorder increases that of the whole
machine; it is then of importance to give
attention thereto, in order to the earliest
remedy. The evacuations which principally
require observation are, the stools,
the urines, the perspiration, and the saliva.
The best way to keep them in due order,
or to bring them to the point at which they
ought to be at, is to govern one’s self by
those precepts which I have laid down on
the other objects of regimen: when those
are heedfully attended to in practice, the
evacuations, whose greater or the less regularity
is the barometer of the better or worse
state of digestions, proceed regularly enough.
That evacuation which it is of the most
importance to favor, as being the most considerable,
is perspiration, which very easily
goes out of order, in weak persons. It
may be aided by having the skin very regularly
rubbed with a flesh-brush, or a flannel;
but when it is very languishing indeed,
there is not a surer way to restore it, than
to put the whole body immediately into
woollen covering. And yet care should
be taken to avoid too warm a dress, for
fear of sweating, which is always detrimental
to perspiration; the forced strainers remain
the weaker, and perform their functions
the worse: too cool a dress is also to be
shunned, as that is an enemy equally to all
cutaneous evacuations. The part which
every person, and especially the weak, ought
to keep the warmest, is the feet. This easy
precaution would never be neglected, if the
importance of it to the preservation of the
whole machine was sufficiently known.
Frequent catching cold of the feet disposes
to the most terrible chronical diseases. There
are many on whom it immediately produces
bad effects. But those especially who are
subject to disorders of the breast, to cholics,
or to obstructions, cannot too much guard
against these dangers. Those priests who
used to walk bare-footed on the pavement of
the temples were often attacked with violent
cholics.
The saliva often is an over abundant
secretion in weak persons; which is owing
to a relaxation of the salivary organs. Now
if the patients spit out continually this saliva,
thence result two evils; the one, that they
exhaust themselves by this evacuation; the
other, that this humor, so necessary to the
work of digestion, which without it operates
but imperfectly, fails, and thereby
renders it laborious and defective. I have
already sufficiently explained myself on the
dangers of a bad digestion, not to need here
much insistence on those incident to an evacuation,
on which the digestion so essentially
depends. For this reason it is that Mr.
Lewis forbids smoaking to his patients.
Smoaking, among its other inconveniences,
disposes to an abundant salivation, by the irritation
it produces on the glands which furnish
this secretion.
Might not the inhalation from one person
to another, which I have precedently mentioned,
be here recalled to mind as one of
the means of cure? Capivaccio had judged
it of use to the person under his care, that
should lie between the two nurses that
suckled him; and it is very probable that
the inhalation of their atmosphere contributed
perhaps as much as their milk to
restore his strength.
Elidæus, cotemporary with Capivaccio,
and preceptor to Forrestus, who has
preserved to us this observation[114], advised
a young man, who was in a marasmus,
to asses milk, and to have his nurse lie in the
same bed with him, who was a woman extremely
healthy, and in the flower of her
age: this advice had the greatest success;
nor was the compliance with it discontinued
till the patient owned he could no longer
resist the inclination grown upon him, to
make an illicit use of the strength that was
returned to him. A remedy, on the foot of
this utility by inhalation might be preserved,
and yet the danger be prevented by not
mixing the sexes.
The intimate union of the soul and
body has been precedently mentioned;
how great the influence is of the well-being
of the first, over the last, cannot have escaped
comprehension; the sinister effects of melancholy
have been pointed out; so that it is
almost needless here to add, that too great
care cannot be taken to avoid the unpleasant
sensations of the soul, and that it is of the
highest consequence to procure for it none but
the most agreeable ones; indeed in all distempers,
but especially in those, which, like
the tabes dorsalis, of themselves dispose to
sadness, a sadness which, by a vitious circle,
considerably augments those distempers. But
(and this makes one of the difficulties of the
cure) it often happens that the patients take
a kind of pleasure in this symptom of their
disorder, and there is no prevailing on them
to determine upon making any efforts to get
the better of it. Besides, not to deceive
ourselves, we must not imagine that it is
enough to prescribe to a person to be chearful,
for him to be so. Mirth is voluntary.
Laughing is no more to be commanded than
it is to be forbidden. A man can no more help
his being sad, than having a fit of a fever,
or the torture of a tooth-ach. All that can
be required or expected of the patients is,
that they will no more refuse their yielding
to accept or try the remedies prescribed to
them against their melancholy, than they
refuse yielding to other remedies. Now
the remedies are not so much, in this case,
company, (we have already observed that it
was displeasing to them, for particular reasons)
as a variety of situations. A continual change
of objects for a succession of ideas that diverts
them, and this is what they need.
Nothing can be more pernicious to persons
inclined to deliver themselves up to one idea,
than inaction, or want of occupation. But,
above all, nothing is worse than that for the
case here treated of: the patients cannot too
much avoid idleness, and the being too much
left or abandoned to themselves. Rural
exercises, or employment, comprehend the
most powerful diversion. M. Lewis advises,
“that the sick should, if possible, see
none but those of their own sex;
“Nam non ulla magis vires industria firmat
Quam Venerem et cæci stimulos avertere amoris.
Virg.
“that they should never be absolutely alone;
that they should be kept from giving themselves
up to their own reflexions; that
they should be diverted or kept from reading,
or any occupation of the mind; all
these, (as he observes,) being so many
causes that exhaust the spirits and retard
the cure.” I should not, however, be for
totally debarring them from all reading. It
might be enough to forbid their reading for
too long a time at once, if it were but on
account of the weakness of their eyes; or
all reading that should require too much application,
but especially and severely any
kind of reading that might recall to their
mind ideas, or to their imagination objects,
of which it were to be wished they should
lose the remembrance: but there are subjects
which, without much fixing the attention,
and without recalling dangerous images,
might agreeably divert, entertain, and prevent
the terrible dangers of a wearisome
idleness.
I shall follow the same order as in the
preceding article. I shall point out the pretended
remedies, which are to be avoided,
before I enter on the mention of those which
are the eligible ones. I have already taken
notice of a first class of those which should
be excluded, the irritating, the heating, the
volatile medicines. There is a second one, of a
very opposite nature, and equally noxious,
and that is evacuatives. I have already observed,
that sweats, an over-secretion of the
saliva, and too copious urines, exhausted the
patient. I shall not then repeat my premonition
against those evacuations: it is consequentially
clear enough, that all the medicines
which excite them, should be banished.
It remains then to examine the propriety of
bleeding, and of the evacuations of the primæ
viæ. The curative indications being to restore
strength, now, in order to judge whether
they are proper, it is but to know whether
they can be expected to answer that indication.
I shall not be long on this head.
There are two cases in which bleeding restores
strength; in all others, it diminishes
it. The first is, when there is too great an
abundance of blood; this is not the case in
consumptions; or when the blood has acquired
an inflammatory inspissation, which,
rendering it unfit for its uses, quickly destroys
the vital forces; this is the disorder of the
vigorous, of those who have rigid fibres,
and a strong circulation: our sick are in precisely
the contrary case; bleeding then cannot
but be hurtful to them. “Every drop
of blood, (according to M. Gilchrist,)
is precious to persons in a consumption:
the assimilating power that repairs it being
destroyed, they have not more than barely
sufficient to keep up the circulation, and
that but a languid one[115].” M. Lobb,
who has very justly calculated the effects of
evacuations, is positive in this sense. He
observes, “that in bodies, which have no
more than the necessary quantity of blood,
if that is diminished by bleeding or other
evacuations, the vital forces are at the same
time diminished, the secretions disturbed,
and various disorders produced[116].”
The manner in which M. Senac speaks
of bleeding gives it yet more precisely the
exclusion in this case. “If (says he) the
thick or red globules of the blood be deficient,
bleeding is useless or rather pernicious:
it ought then to be forbidden in
extenuated bodies, where the blood is in
small quantity, or not of due consistence, as
when there comes from the vessels but a
liquid that can scarce color linnen or
water[117].” It has been observed, that
such is the state of the blood in those who
have hurt themselves by self-pollution; and
such it is generally in the weak and in valetudinarians.
Let those who attempt the
cure, in this case, by bleeding, compare
that method with this precept founded on
the most enlightened theory, and on numerous
practical observations, well digested by
reflection; these constitute the basis of the
work from which I draw it, and then let
them judge of the success they ought to expect.
Those medicines which evacuate the first
passages, conduce to the restoration of
strength, when, in those parts, there is formed
a lodgment of matters so considerable by
their mass, as to cramp or obstruct the
functions of all the viscera, or when there
are in the stomach, or in the first intestines,
putrid matters, of which the common effect
is a prodigious weakness. In those cases
evacuatives may be prescribed, if nothing
contra-indicates them, if there are no other
means of freeing the first passages, or if there
should be any danger in not evacuating them
quickly enough. These three conditions
have rarely place in persons who are in a
state of consumption, and in whom the
weakness and atony of the first passages is a
counter-indication, ever present, to purgatives
or emetics. There is oftenest another
method of procuring a successive evacuation,
which is, the employing the non-astringent
tonics; such are a great number of bitters,
which, by restoring play to the organs, produce
the double good effect of digesting
what is not indigestible, and of evacuating
the superfluities. In short, there is rarely
any danger in not evacuating them quickly
enough. This danger, indeed, sometimes
exists in acute diseases; the acridity of the
matters which the heat augments, and the
prodigious re-action of the fibres, may occasion
violent symptoms, which are never seen
in chronical disorders or distempers of languor,
in which the evacuatives, properly so called,
are, from that very quality, never, by much,
so necessary, and are, as I have before observed,
often contra-indicated. Atony, and
the want of action, are the cause of those
gatherings when there are any formed; when
they are evacuated by a purgative, the effect
is dissipated, but the cause which will have
produced them is considerably augmented:
there remain to be repaired both the evil
that actually exists, and that which the remedy
will have done; if for these a remedy
is not quickly provided, the effect re-produces
itself faster than before; and if way is given
to the employing purgatives a-new, the evil
is a second time augmented; besides that the
intestines are made thereby to contract indisposition
to stools, which hinders their
functions, till at length they arrive at such
a point that there is no obtaining evacuations
from them but by physic. In short, purgatives,
in the case of obstructions in the first
passages of weak persons, can produce no
diminution of the effect but by augmenting
the causes, nor give a momentary relief but
as they make the disease worse. And yet
this method is but too much followed; the
sick generally like it, to them it has an air
of quickness or dispatch; and, indeed, provided
that the failure of strength be not too
considerable, they find themselves relieved
for a few days. The evil, it is true, returns,
but they had rather impute it to the insufficiency
than to the operation of that remedy,
to which they have taken a liking. Besides,
the sick are ever for the present relief, and
few physicians have the courage to oppose
this weakness. Yet is it important, as well
in physic as in morality, to know when to
sacrifice the present to the future: a neglect
of this law peoples the world with wretches
and with valetudinarians. It were much to
be wished, that there should be inculcated
to many physicians, as well as to many patients,
that fine passage to be found in the
Pathologia of M. Gaubius, upon all the
evils which are the consequence of the abuse
of purgatives[118].
Are not there, will it be said, some cases,
in which emetics and purgatives may be admitted
for the sick of whom I am treating?
Doubtless, some there are, but they are very
rare; and great attention is requisite not to
be mistaken as to the signs which seem to
indicate evacuatives, and which often depend
on a cause that is to be attacked by
remedies of quite another nature. I will
not enter into a discussion of these distinctions;
that would be quite out of place here; it is
enough for me to observe, that evacuatives
are rarely advisable in this disorder. M.
Lewis is of opinion, “that a gentle emetic
may serviceably prepare the first passages
for the other remedies, but would not
have that exceeded;” a multitude of cases
have taught me, that even that might and
often ought to be omitted; and I have precedently
adduced two observations of M.
Hoffman, which prove all the danger for
that remedy. But even, without recourse
to experience, common sense alone may
suffice to persuade one, that a remedy which
gives convulsions, cannot be very proper for
a disorder which are the effects of repeated
convulsions.
It is by combating the cause that the evil
is to be destroyed; for as little as may every
day be removed, of that cause, one may be
pretty sure that the effect will disappear,
without the danger of a return. If it is
against the effect only that the procedure of
the cure is levelled, the work of each day is
not only of no service to the following one,
but almost always detrimental.
After having indicated what is to be avoided,
there remains to examine what can be
done. I have precedently specified the character
that the remedies ought to have; to
strengthen without irritating; there are some
that can answer those indications; indeed
the catalogue of them is not a long one, and
the two most efficacious are, doubtless, the
bark and the cold bath. The first of these
medicines has been looked upon, for more
than a century past, independently of its febrifuge
virtue, as one of the most powerful
strengtheners, and as an anodyne. The most
celebrated of the modern physicians look on
it as a specific in the disorders of the nerves.
I have already shewn, that it was an ingredient
in the prescription above quoted from
Boerhaave; and M. Vandermonde employed
it with great success in the case of a
young man under his care, whom debauches
with women had thrown into a deplorable
condition[119]. M. Lewis prefers it to all
the other remedies; and M. Stehelin, in
that letter of his which I have more than
once mentioned, says, he holds it the most
efficacious of any.
Twenty ages of exact and well considered
experiences have demonstrated that the cold
baths possess the same qualities. Dr. Baynard
has more particularly proved the virtue
of them in the disorders produced by
self-pollution, and by excesses of venery;
especially in a case, where, independently of
the impotency and of the simple gonorrhœa,
there was so great a weakness, augmented,
indeed, by bleeding and by purgations, that
the patient was considered as at the gates of
death[120].
M. Lewis does not scruple affirming yet
more positively their efficacy. “Among all
the medicines (says he,) whether external
or internal, there is nothing can equal the
virtue of the cold bath.... It cools
the body more, strengthens the nerves
better, and promotes perspiration more
effectually, than any medicine taken down
the throat can do, and will do as much
service in the tabes dorsalis, prudently used,
as every thing else put together[121].” It
ought even to be remarked, that the cold bath
has, as I have already said of the air, a particular
advantage, which is, that its action
depends less on the reaction, which is as much
as to say on the vital forces of nature, than
the action of the other remedies: these
only act upon the quick, but the cold bath
gives a spring even to the dead fibres.
The conjunction of the bark with the cold
bath stands indicated by the purity of their
virtues; they operated the same effects, and
being combined, they cure those disorders
which all the other remedies only serve to
make worse. In their qualities of strengthening,
of anodynes, of febrifuges, they re-invigorate,
they lessen the feverish and nervous
heat, they calm the irregular motions produced
by the spasmodic disposition of the
nervous system. They remedy the weakness
of the stomach, and very quickly dissipate
the pains which are the consequences of
it. They restore appetite, facilitate the digestion
and nutrition, they re-establish all
the secretions, and especially perspiration,
which renders them so efficacious in all the
catarrhal and cutaneous disorders; in short,
they are remedies for all the diseases caused
by weakness, provided that the patient does
not labor under indissoluble obstructions, inflammations,
abscesses, or internal ulcers,
conditions which even do not necessarily or
almost necessarily exclude, any thing more
than the cold baths, but which often allow
of the bark.
I saw, some years ago, a foreigner, who
might be of the age of about twenty-three or
twenty-four, and who, from his tenderest infancy,
had been subject to the torture of the
cruellest head-achs, and almost continual
ones considering the frequency and the length
of the fits, which were almost always accompanied
with a total loss of appetite. The
evil had been considerably made worse by
the use of bleeding, of evacuatives, of purgative
waters, of warm baths, of broths,
and a multitude of other remedies. I prescribed
for him the cold bath and the bark.
In a few days, the fits became weaker and
weaker, and much less frequent; the patient,
at a month’s end, thought himself almost
radically cured; the cessation of the remedies
and the bad weather renewed the fits,
but incomparably less violent than before.
He recommenced the same process of cure
the spring following, and his disorder came
to be so slight, that he judged he should
need no more of any application; I am persuaded
that the same recourse, once or twice
repeated, will radically cure him.
A man of eight and twenty years old, had,
for many years, been cruelly tormented with
an irregular gout, which seized constantly
his head, and occasioned dreadful distortions
of his face; he had consulted a number of
physicians, and tried remedies of various
kinds, and lately a medicinal wine composed
of the most penetrative aromatics, infused in
Spanish wine; all, and especially the last, had
increased his disorder; blisters had been applied
to his legs which brought on violent
symptoms; at this epoch it was that I was
consulted. I advised for him, a strong decoction
of bark and of camomile, which he
continued for six weeks, and which restored
him to more health, than he had enjoyed
for many years. It would be needless here
to adduce a great number of examples, especially
foreign to the case, to prove the
strengthening quality of these remedies, which
has been so long demonstrated, and of which
every thing in this disorder indicates the use;
an use of which the happiest successes have
confirmed the virtue.
When I employed the bark in a liquid
form, I ordered the decoction of one ounce
in twelve ounces of water, or, according to
the indication, of red wine, boiled for two
hours in a close vessel, to be taken, at three
ounces a time, three times a day. I
time the cold bath in the evening, when the
digestion of the dinner is intirely completed;
it contributes much to procure a quiet sleep.
I knew a young man, accustomed to self-pollution,
who used to pass the night in the
most sleepless disquiet, and who was every
morning bathed in his own colliquative
sweats; the night that followed the sixth
cold bath he slept five hours, and got up
in the morning without sweats, and much
refreshed.
Martials are a third remedy, so often used
in all cases of weakness, as not to need any
insistence here on their efficacy in quality of
strengtheners; as they contain nothing of
an irritating nature, they are extremely proper
in this disorder. They are given in substance
or in infusion; but the best preparation
is the chalybeate waters prepared by
nature, and especially the spaw-waters, one
of the most powerful tonics that are known,
and a tonic, so far from irritative, that it
softens any acridity that may be in the humors.
The gums, myrrh, the bitters, the
mildest aromatics may also be of use. It
must be the circumstances that must decide
the choice from among these different remedies.
The first of those that I have indicated,
merit, for the most times, the preference;
but there may cases occur which
require others; they should, in general, be
selected from the class of the nervous medicines,
taking for a guide of choice, the precautions
I have above specified. It is a disorder
of the nerves, and ought to be treated
as such; and treated so it has often been
with success, without the cause of it having
been known. It is a truth, and a truth demonstrated
by incontestable observations, that
the ignorance of this cause, and a neglect
thereto consequential of the precautions
which it exacts, has sometimes frustrated
prescriptions to all appearances the best indicated,
without the physicians being able
to penetrate the cause of their failure of
success.
I prescribed for the young man, whose
case is described in a fragment of his letters
(p. 34.) pills of which mirrh was the basis,
with a decoction of the bark; and this was
attended with the happiest success[122]. “I
am every day (as he wrote me sixteen days
after his beginning these remedies) more
and more sensible of the great good they
do me; my head-achs are no longer either
so frequent or so violent: I have not them
now any more, unless when I apply close;
my stomach grows better; I have now but
rarely pains in my limbs.” At the end of
a month his cure was complete, except in
this, that he had not, nor perhaps ever will
have, the strength it is probable he would
have had but for his misconduct. The check,
which the machine receives in its growing
season, has consequences which are irreparable.
Oh, that this truth were but strongly
imprinted on the minds of youth! It has
been lately urged with great energy. “Youth”
(says M. Linnæus) “is the most important
season for forming a robust constitution.
Nothing is more to be dreaded than a premature
or excessive use of the pleasures of
venery: thence proceed weaknesses of
the eyes, vertigos, diminution of appetite,
and even an enfeeblement of the mental
powers. Bodies enervated in youth never
recover their original vigor: their old age
is accelerated and infirm, and their life
short[123].”
Sixteen hundred years before the times of
this great Naturalist, Plutarch, in his
valuable work on the education of children,
had recommended the formation of their
constitution as a point of the highest importance.
“No care (says he) should be
neglected that can contribute to the elegance
and vigor of the body:” (the excesses
of which I am treating are detrimental
to both the one and the other;) “for”
(adds he) “the foundation for a healthy
old age is to be laid in youth: temperance
and moderation at this early time
of life, are a passport to a happy latter
season[124].”
To the account of the preceding case, in
which the success appears due to the bark,
I shall subjoin another, in which the cold
bath was the principal remedy.
A young man of a bilious constitution,
seduced to libidinous practices from the age
of ten years, had always been, from that
time, weak, languishing, and of an ill habit
of body: he had had some bilious disorders,
which it had been very difficult to
cure; he was extremely lean, pale, feeble,
melancholic. I prescribed for him the cold
bath, and a powder of cream of tartar,
martials, and a very little cinnamon. In
less than six weeks he acquired such a
strength as he had never before known.
One great advantage of the Spaw-waters
and of the bark is, that the use of them
agrees with milk, and suffers it to pass. The
Spaw-waters are not the only ones that have
this property. Hoffman prescribed asses
milk, with a third of Seltzer-water. M.
de la Mettrie has preserved to us a
curious observation of M. Boerhaave;
speaking of the Duke of ——, “This
amiable Duke (I translate literally) had
thrown himself out of the nuptial paradise;
I brought him into it again by the
use of Spaw-waters with milk[125].”
A weakness of the stomach which causes
the digestion to be too slow; acids; the want
of activity in the bile; the obstructions in the
intestines of the abdominal region, are the
principal causes that hinder the digestion of
the milk, and counter-indicate its use. The
waters which remedy all these causes cannot
but facilitate the digestion; and the bark,
which fulfils the same indications, may also
be very well combined with the milk. These
remedies may be employed, either precedently,
to prepare the passages, which is almost
always necessary, or at the same time.
In 1753 I restored, perfectly, a foreigner,
who had so exhausted himself with a woman
of the town, that he was grown incapable
of any act of virility; his stomach was
also extremely weakened, and the want of
nutrition and sleep had quite emaciated him.
At six in the morning he took six ounces of
the bark-decoction, to which he added a
spoonfull of Canary-wine: an hour afterwards
he took ten ounces of goats milk,
fresh drawn, with a little sugar, and an
ounce of orange-flower-water. He dined
on a cold roast fowl, with a glass of excellent
Burgundy, diluted with an equal part of
water. At six in the evening he took a second
dose of the bark; at half an hour after
six he went into the cold bath, in which he
staid ten minutes, and immediately on coming
out of it, went to bed. At eight in the
evening he took again the same quantity of
milk, and got up from nine till ten. Such
was the effect of these remedies, that at the
end of eight days, on seeing me come into
his room, he cried out to me, in a transport
of joy, that he had recovered the external
sign of virility, if I may make use of M.
Buffon’s expression. In a month, he had
almost intirely retrieved his original vigor.
Some absorbent powders; some spoonfulls
of mint-water, often the addition of only a
little sugar; some pills of the extract of the
bark with mastic, which is itself an useful
remedy in this case, may also contribute to
prevent the disagreement of the milk. To
the mastic, or to the gum-dragon, might be
substituted that gum newly introduced in
some parts of England, under the name of
Gumm. rubrum Gambiense, upon which there
may be seen a small dissertation in that excellent
collection published by the new Society
of Physicians formed at London[126].
It strengthens, it sweetens: which are the
two great indications in the diseases of which
I am treating.
However, if with all the care that may
be taken, it should be found impossible to
bear the milk, I should advise trying butter-milk.
I prescribed it with success for a
young man, in whom certain symptoms of
vergency to the hypochondriac disorder deterred
me from a recourse to milk itself.
The bilious drink the butter-milk with pleasure,
and are always the better for it; and
indeed it ought always to be preferred to
milk, where there is a great deal of heat, a
feverishness, an eresipelatous disposition;
but it is especially of very great service when
the venereal excesses produce an acute fever,
such as was that of which Raphael died.
Notwithstanding the weakness in these erotic
fevers, the tonics would be hurtful;
bleeding is dangerous: the famous Johnston,
who died Baron of Ziebendorff, above
fourscore years ago, positively forbad it in
this case[127]. Too cooling a method of
cure does not succeed, as the observation of
M. Vandermonde proves, and as I have
myself seen; but the butter-milk is of service,
provided it is not too unctuous. It
calms, it dilutes, it sweetens, it assuages the
thirst, it refreshes, and at the same time
nourishes and strengthens, which is of great
importance in this case; one symptom of
which is, that strength melts away in it
with an inconceivable quickness. M. Gilchrist,
who does not lay any great stress
on milk in a hectic, commends greatly the
use of butter-milk in that very disorder[128].
Since my last edition of this work, published
about four years ago, (it being now
1764,) I have been consulted by several persons
in a state of enervity or debility. Some
have been intirely cured. Many have received
considerable relief; others none at all.
When the disease is got to a certain head,
the most that can be hoped for is, that the
remedies will stop the progress of the disorder.
Of the successes of some of my patients I
have remained unacquainted.
In almost all my treatment of these cases,
milk has been the principal aliment; while
the bark, martials, chalybeate waters, and
the cold bath have been the remedies.
Some patients I put intirely into a milk diet;
others only took it once or twice a day.
The patient of whom I particularised the
case in the fifth Section, where I promised
an account of my method of management of
his disorder, lived for three months upon nothing
but milk, upon bread well-baked,
upon one or two quite new laid eggs, a day,
and fair water, just drawn from the fountain.
His milk he took four times a day, twice
warm from the cow without bread, twice
warmed on the fire with some bread. The
remedies were an electuary composed of bark,
of conserve of orange-peel, and syrup of mint.
His breast was covered with an aromatic
strengthening plaister. His whole body was
every morning rubbed down with flannel.
He took as much exercise as he could bear,
both on horseback and foot, and especially
he kept much in the open air. His weakness,
and his complaints of his breast, hindered
me from advising him the cold bath at
that epoch. The success, however, of the
remedies was such, that his strength returned
to him, and his stomach was restored.
In a month’s time he was able to walk a
league on foot. His vomitings ceased intirely;
the pains of his breast were considerably diminished,
and for these three years last past
he continues in a very tolerable state of
health. Little by little he returned to his
usual aliments, having taken a distaste to
milk.
The parts of generation are always those
that recover their vigor the slowest. Often
too they never regain it, even though the
rest of the body appear to have recovered its
natural strength. In this case, it may be
literally prophesied, that the part which has
sinned, will be the part that shall die.
I have always found more facility in curing
those who, in the age of maturity, had
exhausted themselves by excesses, in a short
time, than those who, in a longer space of
it, had enervated themselves by pollutions,
more rarely practised, but which having been
begun in their tenderest youth, had hindered
their growth, and had never allowed them
to come to all their natural strength. The
first may be considered as having had a violent
illness, which has consumed all their
strength, but whose organs having acquired
all their perfection, however they may have
much suffered, yet, the cessation of the cause
of their illness, time, a good regimen, and
proper remedies, may restore them. Whereas
the others, having never let their constitution
come to good, how should they be
restored to what they never had? How
could they expect that art should operate
in the age of maturity, what they have
hindered nature from operating in the tender
season of youth and of puberty? Common
sense must tell one how chimerical such
a hope must be; and, indeed, my observations
every day prove to me, that young persons,
who have delivered themselves up to
this pollution, in their childhood, in their
earliest youth, and in the epoch of the unfolding
of puberty, an epoch which is a crisis
of Nature, for which its whole strength
is necessary to her; daily observation, I say,
proves to me, that such young persons must
never expect to be vigorous and robust:
they may think themselves very well off, if
they can compass the enjoying a moderate
state of health, exempt from great disorders
or great pains.
Those who trust to a tardy repentance,
having delayed it to an age, in which the
machine may preserve itself, when it is in
good order, but is not to be repaired without
great difficulty, ought not either to have
great hopes. After forty it is rare to grow
young again.
When I order the bark with wine, I do
not restrict the patient intirely to a milk
diet; but make him take the bark in the
morning and the milk at night. For some
patients, however, I have been obliged to
invert that order; the wine taken in the
morning not agreeing with their stomach,
and constantly making them vomit.
When I employ mineral waters, I make
them drink first some bottles pure, before I
proceed to have them mixed with milk.
When the disorder is inveterate it commonly
degenerates into a cacochymia, a general
depravation of the humors, or ill habit
of the body; the cure of which must be proceeded
upon before you attempt to restore
strength. In this case it is that evacuants
are sometimes indispensably necessary, and
prove of great service. Whereas restoratives,
nutritious aliments, milk, ordered in
these circumstances, may throw the patient
into a slow fever, and he will rather find his
strength diminish in proportion to the use
he makes of them.
When violent excesses shall have thrown
one suddenly into such a considerable weakness
as to give room of fear for the patient’s
life, recourse should be had to active cordials.
Spanish wines may be given him with
a little bread, or some good broths with
new laid eggs: he should be put to bed
directly, and have some flannels applied to
his breast, steeped in wine, warmed with
Theriaca.
As to those cases, in which venereal excesses
have occasioned an acute fever, bleeding
should not be used, unless indicated by
the fullness and hardness of the pulse;
and it is better to take the quantity of blood
at two different times bleeding, than all at
once. The white decoction, barley water
with a little milk, some doses of nitre, some
glisters with a decoction of mullein flowers,
some warm bathings for the feet; and as to
aliments, some veal-broth, thickened with
barley or the like grain; these are the remedies
indicated by right practice, and such as
I have seen succeed very happily and quickly,
in those cases in which I have employed
them.
The symptoms rarely require any particular
method of cure, and yield to the general
one. You may sometimes, however, join
external corroboratives to the internal ones,
where it may be proper to strengthen any
particular part. I have myself often advised,
with success, epithems or aromatic plaisters
for the breast. Nor is it sometimes unserviceable
to wrap the testicles in a soft flannel,
steeped in some corroborative liquid, and to
support them by means of a suspensory.
Here also may be placed what M. Gotter
says: “I have sometimes cured the
gutta serena, occasioned by venereal excesses,
by employing internal corroboratives,
and errhines, or nasal cephalic powders,
which, by the slight irritation they produced,
determined a greater afflux of the
animal spirits to the optic nerve[129].”
It would be needless here to enter on
greater particularities of the method of cure;
whatever extension I might give them, they
would never be sufficient to guide the sick
without the assistence of a physician, to
whom they would be superfluous. I have,
indeed, treated the more largely of the regimen,
because that, when the disorder has
as yet made no great progress, that alone,
joined to the cessation of the cause, might
operate a cure, and that any one might confine
himself to it without any danger.
There appears then nothing more for me
to say, before I terminate this part, but to
add the preservative cautions. I was sensible
that this article was wanting to the first
edition of this work, and that it was an unjustifiable
defect, from the importance of the
matter. A gentleman, celebrated in the
Republic of Literature for his works, and
yet more respectable for his talents, his
knowledge, and his personal qualities, than
for his name, and for the employments of
which he so worthily acquits himself, in one
of the first towns in Switzerland, M. Iselin,
(I hope he will forgive my naming
him,) made me sensible of that my omission
in a very polite manner. I shall quote here
an extract of his letter with the more pleasure,
for its pointing out exactly what there
remained for me to do.
“I could wish (says he) to see a work
from your hand, in which you would explain
the means the most secure and the
least dangerous, by which parents, during
the time of education, and young persons,
when they are left to their own conduct,
might the best preserve themselves from
that violence of desires which urges them
to those excesses, whence arise such dreadful
diseases, or to disorders that disturb
the happiness of society and their own.
I do not doubt of there being a diet that
particularly favors continency. I should
think that a work that should teach it us,
combined with a description of the diseases
produced by impurity, would be
equivalent to the best treatises of morality
on this subject.”
M. Iselin is doubtless in the right; nothing
would be more important than the
combination of the two points he desires;
but then nothing would be more difficult
than the detaching them from the other
parts not only of moral but medicinal education.
To treat of this article apart,
that is to say, to treat of it well, it would
be necessary to establish a great number of
principles, which would swell too much this
little work, and which would, besides, be
very foreign to it. Some general precepts,
unconnected with the necessary principles
and divisions, would not only be of little
use, but might even become dangerous; so
that it is better to refer such a treatise to the
making part of a more considerable one,
upon the means of forming a good constitution,
and of giving a youth a firmly established
health; a matter which, though it
has been handled by very able authors, is,
hitherto, far, very far from being exhausted;
and upon which there remain a multitude
of extremely important things to be added,
as well as upon the disorders incident to that
season of life. So that, though it be against
my inclination, I will not here touch upon
this article. All that I can say is, that idleness,
inactivity, too long lying a-bed, too
soft a bed, a rich, aromatic, salt, or vinous
diet, dangerous or suspicious acquaintance,
licentious works, being the likeliest causes
of seduction into those excesses, they cannot
be too carefully avoided. Diet especially is
of extreme importance, and there is not attention
enough had to that particular. Those
who educate youth, ought to have ever present
to them that pathetic observation of
St. Jerom: “The forges of Vulcan, the
internals of the Vesuvius and the Mount
Olympus do not burn with more flames,
than youth pampered with high meats,
and drenched with wines.”
Menjot, one of Lewis the XIVth’s
Physicians, from about the middle to the
end of the last century, mentions women,
that an excess of hippocras (spiced wine)
threw into a venereal extasy. The use of
wine and flesh-meats is so much the more
pernicious, for that while they augment the
force of the stimulations of loose desires,
they weaken at the same time that of reason,
which ought to resist them. “Wine
and animal food dull the soul,” says Plutarch,
in his treatise On the eating of flesh-meats,
a work which ought to be generally
perused. The most ancient Physicians had
already known the influence of regimen over
the morals; they had the idea of a moral
medicinal-course; and Galen has left us
upon that matter a small work, which is,
perhaps, the best upon that subject hitherto
extant. Conviction of the reality of his
promise cannot but follow its perusal.
“Let those (says he) who deny that the
difference of aliments can render some
temperate, others dissolute; some chaste,
others incontinent; some courageous, others
cowardly; some meek, others quarrelsome;
some modest, others overbearing; let those,
I say, who deny this truth, come to me;
let them follow my counsels as to eating
and drinking, and I promise them, that
they will find great helps therefrom towards
moral philosophy; they will especially
feel the faculties of their soul gather
greater strength; they will improve their
natural genius, they will acquire more
memory, more prudence, more diligence.
I will also tell them what kind of liquors,
what winds, what state of the air,
what climates they ought to shun or
chuse[130].”
Hippocrates, Plato, Aristotle,
Plutarch, had already left us some very
good things on this important matter, and
among the works which remain to us of the
Pythagorean Porphyry, that zealous anti-christian
of the third century, there is one,
upon the abstinence of the animal food, in
which he reproaches Firmus Castricius,
to whom he addresses it, for his having
quitted the vegetable diet, though he himself
had owned it was the fittest to preserve
health, and to facilitate the study of philosophy;
and he adds, “Since you have taken
to the eating of flesh-meat, your own experience
has taught you, that that confession
of yours was well grounded.” There
are some very good things in that work.
The most efficacious preservative, the
most infallible one is, doubtless, that which
is pointed out by that great man, who, of
all men has the best known his fellow creatures,
and all their ways; who has not only
seen what they actually are, but what they
have been, what they ought to be, and what
they are capable of becoming; who has the
most truly loved them; who has made the
greatest efforts in their favor, and who has
been the most cruelly persecuted by them.
“Watch with care (says he) over the young
man. Do not leave him alone either by
day or by night. Sleep, at least, in the
same room with him. From the instant
that he shall have contracted that habit,
the most fatal one that a young man can
inslave himself to, he will carry to the
grave the melancholic effects of it. He
will have his body and his heart for ever
enervated by it.” I refer to the work itself
for a perusal of all the excellent things
he has said on this matter[131].
The description of the danger, upon the
abandoning one’s self to such vitious practices,
is perhaps one of the most powerful motives
of correcting one’s self of them: it is a
dreadful picture, and fit to make one start
back with horror and affright. Let us assemble
in one point of view the principal features
of it. A general wasting of the whole
machine; an enfeeblement of all the corporal
senses and of all the faculties of the
soul; loss of imagination and memory; imbecillity;
contempt; shame; the ignominy
such viciousness drags after it; all the functions
of life disturbed, suspended, or painfully
executed; long, vexatious, unaccountable,
disgustful diseases; acute and constantly
regenerating pains; all the infirmities or
evils of old age, in the age of youth and
vigor; an unaptitude for all those occupations
for which man is born; the vile
character to act of being an useless burthen
to the earth; the mortifications to which
such a character is daily exposed; a distaste
for all worthy pleasures; a dull melancholy;
an aversion for society and consequently
for one’s self; a horror of life, the
dread of temptations every moment to suicide;
an anguish worse than pain; a remorse
worse than anguish, a remorse which daily
increasing, and which doubtless taking a
new force, when the soul is no longer
weakened by its ties to the body, will perhaps
serve for a torment to all eternity, for
an unextinguishable fire. See here the sketch
of the fate reserved for those who proceed as
if they had not it to dread!
Before I quit this article of the method of
cure, I ought to observe to the patients,
and it is an observation equally extensible to
all who labor under chronical disorders, especially
when they are accompanied with
weakness; that they ought not to hope that,
in a few days, those evils can be repaired or
removed, which are the produce of the errors
of years. They must lay their account with
being obliged to endure the tediousness of a
long cure, and to confine themselves scrupulously
to all the rules laid down for their
regimen. If sometimes they appear trifling
or minute to them, it is because they themselves
are not fit judges of the degree of their
importance; it would be better for them
constantly to repeat to themselves, that the
irksome tediousness of the most rigid method
of cure is still preferable to a state of any
the slightest disease. Be it allowed me to
observe, that for one disorder that remains
uncured through improper treatment, there
are a number, which the indocility of the
patients renders incurable, notwithstanding
the most well judged assistance given on the
part of the physician.
For the securing success, Hippocrates
required that the patient, the physician, the
attendants, should all equally do their duty;
if this concurrence was less rare, the happy
issues of disorders would be more frequent.
“Let the patient (says Aridæus) have a
good heart, and join forces with the physician
against the disease[132].” I have
seen the most stubborn ones yield to the
establishment of this harmony; and recent
observations have demonstrated to me, that
the virulence of even cancerous disorders has
submitted to methods of cure, directed perhaps
with some skill, but especially executed
with a docility and a regularity of which the
successes constituted the best praise.