The accident to Alexis St. Martin, in 1822, afforded an extraordinary opportunity of observing the process of digestion; but how few instances have there been in which observations of other vital phenomena have been made in the human subject! There have been other difficulties besetting the investigations of animal life. Until towards the dawn of the present century chemistry was wedded to theories allied to the vagaries of the ancient alchemists. The experiments of Cavendish, Lavoisier, Priestley, Scheele, Dalton, Wollaston, Berzelius, Gay-Lussac, and others, have since that time placed it among the exact sciences. Physiology, thus aided by chemistry, has, within the last one hundred years, assumed an exalted position, and already all the more important functions of the body have been described.

The engineer can inform us whether his engine is of one horse or twenty horse power. The physiolo gists now assure us that every grain of carbonic acid and of urea excreted represents a certain amount of expenditure of vital force, and by algebraic calculations can compute their equivalents in miles walked, or the number of pounds lifted through space. Could Euclid, the great cotemporary of Hippocrates, have imagined that the followers of the Father of Medicine could attain such mathematical precision in regard to vital action, he would doubtless have acknowledged that dissections and vivisections would of more value to mankind than his favorite conic sections.

prove

Nor can we as yet describe the limits of finite understanding. An English writer in his enthusiasm has said: "Our successors may even dare to

speculate on the changes that converted a crust of bread, or a bottle of wine, in the brain of Swift, Molière, or Shakespeare into the conception of the gentle Glumdalclitch, the rascally Sganarelle, or the immortal Falstaff."

The department of therapeutics could not be expected to reach any degree of scientific importance while anatomy and physiology were imperfectly understood. All honor to our medical forefathers, who, with a limited knowledge of these branches, were almost instinctively led to cope successfully with many diseases. Nature is not adequate to every emergency. At one moment she appears gracious and at another ungracious in her action in disease, and this doubtless led the Egyptians to believe that the divinity might be either comely or uncomely in her appearance. They have bequeathed to us this uncertain portraiture of the goddess

"For with a veil that wimpled everywhere

Her head and face were hid, that mote to none appear;
That some do say, was so by skille devised,

To hide the terror of her uncouth hue

From mortal eyes that should be sore agrised;
For that her face did like a lion show,
That eye of wight could not endure the view;
But others tell that it so beauteous was,
And round about such beams of splendor threw,
That it the sun a thousand times did pass,

Nor could be seen, but like an image in a glass."

Nature being inadequate to relieve many disorders, relief for them has been sought from artificial means. But the agents employed to neutralize morbid conditions may prove in themselves noxious. Physicians have consequently been deterred from a

fearless trial of drugs, lest disaster rather than cure follow their administration. The care which has ever been exercised in this regard is worthy of emulation.

To say nothing of the chemical labors now bestowed on many of the medicines now employed, how many tedious experiments have been made with numerous of the articles of the materia medica before they were used as remedial agents. Their exhibition to the inferior animals to learn approxi mately their effects, as well as the doses in which it is proper to employ them. How frequently has

it been found that their behavior is different when given to man! Again, in dispensing them to healthy adults to decide their physiological effects, physi

cians have not hesitated to test new remedies in their own persons, and many have sacrificed their lives on the altar of their profession while engaged in such original inquiries. And finally, having learned to a certain extent the effect and dose of a drug on the healthy subject, it has still to be adjudged at the bedside, and decided whether its subtile action will antagonize the equally subtile action of disease.

In the treatment of mental derangements how great have been the improvements, but how necessarily slow have been their development. With an imperfect knowledge of the nervous system it was impossible for medical men to understand mental disorders, and this fact, coupled with a general superstitious belief in demoniacal possession and witchcraft, made the insane objects of special avoidance and terror, and subjected them to inhuman incarceration. Are we surprised, therefore, to read of former madhouses, where

DISCOURSE.

"No light, but rather darkness visible,
Served only to discover sights of woe;

Regions of sorrow, doleful shades where peace
And rest can never dwell; hope never comes
That comes to all

The key of this infernal pit we keep."

41

But the key which is now turned on these unfortunate patients may but temporarily isolate them from the world. It encloses them in buildings of superb architecture; in chambers and drawing-rooms of comfort and elegance, while around them are thrown the benign influences of social intercourse, of music, of refined amusements, of religion, and of hygienic and therapeutical resources. Thus are we often enabled to

"Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow;
Raze out the written troubles of the brain;
And with a sweet oblivious antidote
Cleanse the foul bosom of that perilous stuff
Which weighs upon the heart."

Time has only permitted me to allude to a few of the barriers which have obstructed the pathway of medical science. Had the members of our profession preferred to consult their own pleasure rather than employ their leisure in studying the cadaver in microscopical research, and in chemically analyz ing tissues, secretions, and foul excretions, the world would still have been guided by empiricism, and the mean of life not extended beyond that which prevailed at the commencement of the Christian era. The passing jest and the satirical pen can be employed in vain against us; they

"Fall like an inverted cone,

For want of proper base to stand upon."

Therapeutics, as far as it has been practicable, has kept pace with the advances made in pathology. We acknowledge our ignorance respecting various points relating to medical science, but cannot admit that we have been listless in searching for information. We can congratulate ourselves on what has been acquired, and can afford to be amused at the jokes cracked at our expense. In respect to bloodletting, which is not at present a favorite therapeutical resource, we cannot affirm that it was formerly uncalled for, as the diatheses of disease may in the past have partaken of a sthenic character. Doubtless, in unskillful hands, the lancet has been too freely employed, but it is now securely sheathed, and held in reserve for special emergencies. We are not blind defenders of ancestry, and can laugh at the humor of Thomas Hood, who, in satirizing the phlebotomists of his day, remarks in Death's Ramble:"Death saw a patient that pulled out his purse, And a doctor that took the sum;

But he let them be-for he knew that the ‘fee'
Was a prelude to 'faw' and 'fum.''

Hood has not been the only writer to lampoon the venesectors. Le Sage, in his Gil Blas, represents Dr. Sangrado as practising blood-letting as a remedy for all sorts of ailments, including the toothache; while Smollett bestowed upon his medical attendant the following affectionate squib:-"I was obliged to send for a physician, who seemed to have been a disciple of Sangrado; for he scarcely left a drop of blood in my body."