NATIONAL LIBRARY OF MEDICINE
             Washington
Founded 1836
U. S. Department of Health, Education, and Welfare
             Public Health Service
 
 
 
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                         FOUR
 5


•J
J
LECTURES
ON THE
J THOWISONIAN PRACTICE OF MEDICINE.
      BY DAVID TOWER,

PHmCIAK AT AVOW MINERAL SPRING?
"Truthg would you teacti (0 $ave a sigking laou,
"All fear, none aid you, and few understand.*7.
          CANANDAIGUA:

PRIMTED BT BEMI3, HORSE  Al*D WARP,

          (FOR THE author.)
1828. 
I
% 
LECTURES.
ON THE
THOMSON-IAN PRACTICE OF IttEEIClME
      BY DAVID TOWER,

1'HVSICIAK AT AVON MINERAL SPRINGS
Truths tvould you teach to save a sinking lann
All fear, none aid you, and few understand,"

          CANANDAIGUA:

PRINTED  BY BEMIS, MORSE  AND WARD,

          (FOR THE AUTHOR.)
10.28. 
,*N- »
V-^A^"'   .', V-*.  ,-.  ,-,  ,',.w.*\
v   n   v-
  *'»<\   <



v  ^

*V
.*•'* .  '..' Jl % 
           TO DR. SAMUEL  THOMSON.





WHOSE  DISINTERESTED LABORS AND  IMPORTANT DISCOVERIES IN MEL



   IC15E, WHILE THEY HAVE BROUGHT DOWN UPON HISI  THE



     ailPLACABLE DISPLEASURE  OF THE FACULTY, HAVE  SE-



         CURED TO  HIM THE  GRATEFUL ESTEEM  OF  ALL



            WHO ARE ACQUAINTED WITH HIS PRACTICE:




  HIE FOLLOWIXG LECTURES  ARE RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED,



                       BY THE AUTHOR. 
PREFACE
  TI1 is customary for authors to make some apology when tiiev
 > 'tug any thing before the  public.   My apology, I hope, will be
•ound in the importance of the ideas hinted at in the following lee
■uies.  That they are free from all inaccuracies of style, the author
Sias not the vanity to flatter himself.   But the matter they contain.
Oe hopes, will be such as to meet the approbation of all unprejudiced
oien.  Whatever inaccuracies either may contain, the author has
one apology to plead, which on all occasions should be heard, viz.
(hat he is a young man.  He can truly say to the public, that he
has much to say to them on this important subject—and should his
Ufe and  health be  spared  him, he will at some future time resume
the subief?. 
&HOTWIBI1
                    LECTURE I.
                        ♦   —

   I  HAVE purposed, fellow-citizens, to address you upon at.
important and interesting subject.   The investigation of am
proposition, which  has for its object the multiplication and
enlargement of the  sources of happiness, must be of import-
ance to us all:—and that which relates to the nature and cure
of disease, must rank itself in importance among the first.  J'
is the duty of every individual, whatever his profession mav
be, so to employ his physical and intellectual powers that this
world maybe wiser and better for his having lived'in it. Ler
the truth of the preceding sentiment be  acknowledged, and
the only inquiry is,  how is that power to be exerted for the
accomplishment of the desired end ?  According to our views
of this subject, the proper answer to the above question is, it
is to be exerted in  learning the extent of its own ability,  it<
relations and tendencies; or, in the language of the poet,
            " The proper study of mankind is man.'"
   If human happiness be the object of our reflections and de-
sires, would we in any small degree  effect  the desired end.
we must obtain an  accurate knowledge of human nature.
For, if it be true that this earth is a vale of tears, and if it be
true also, that an imputation of malevolence cannot be made
to bear  upon the  character of the great First Cause in man'?
primeval creation, the conciusion is clear and irresistible, that
there must  be some obstructions to man's happiness—that
things are driven  from that channel in which the kind hand of
nature designed  them  to flow.   Would we  qualify ourselves
to be able to assist nature in her kind operations in restoring
things to their primeval regularity, we must acquaint ourselve?
intimately with the original structure of things.   This we mus<
do, in order to ascertain how far, and in what particulars na- 
6
iure has been diverted in its courses.   That things  are  thu*
diverted, is evident: for if the case be otherwise, why are oui
cars saluted with that dolorous voice of discontent, which  ai
fimes is heard from almost every individual of the whole spe-
cies to  which we belong? And if we actually possess certain
knowledge of the causes of this disquietude, and of the remedy
also, why then is not the healing balm applied ?  why then is
not nature's assistant administered and the voice of discontent
hushed to peaceful repose ?—The reason is obvious : we arc,
in too great a degree, ignorant of both cause  and remedy.
One thing, however, is very  clear, that this unhappiness arises
from some supernatural cause—that nature is prevented, by
some barrier or other, from discharging those kind offices for
which she was intended by her God.
  As it respects the amount of  happiness which man, in hi*
present state of existence, is capable of enjoying, or how much
his Creator intended he should enjoy, I have nothing to say.
It is a truth, however, that anatomy has never taught us that
the body of man is designedly shaped for disease : we can
discover no disproportion in its organization indicating that it
was thrown together by a malevolent hand. On the contrary,
all  its  elemental  parts  are  so organized,  as to afford ample
proof to us, that it is the intention of nature that an equal and
healthful action should  animate the whole system.
  Nor  have we any evidence to believe the faculties  of the
mind were given us for any other purpose than to advance our
happiness. Since the  wonder-working hand  of nature  has
worked favorable  to our happiness, why then, it may  be
asked,  are men so unhappy?  Because man has fallen from
that state of rectitude, in which he was made.   As is respects
the degree of unhappiness brought upon mankind by the fall,
I have no question to raise.   If it can be  proved,  however,
that the mind always produces the first effects upon the body,
and not the body upon  the mind, then undoubtedly some evil
state of the mental faculties gives origin  to all the misery of
which  our species are the subjects.  But it is certain when the
body is diseased, the mind will be effected as well as the body
—and  when the disease is removed, the  disquietude  of the
mind and body will both subside together.
   It is taken nearly for granted, I believe, that  spirit always
acts first upon matter, and not matter first upon spirit.  This
unquestionably is true, as it  respects the great Creator, who is
a spirit exclusively.  And it  is undoubtedly the mind or im- 
                           i

mortal part of man, that acts upon the mortal or material part
—for the body, without the mind,  is dead.  But while the
mind is confined to the body,  it may be, that the wants and
pains of the body suggest to* the mind the necessity of action;
and although the body does not in realty act on the mind first,
still the mind does not act without some object,  and the ob-
ject which the mind has in acting is to satisfy want or remove
some obstruction in the body.
  But the connection between body and  mind, I am free to
say, is to  me perfectly inexplicable;  nor have I made  these
remarks thinking to explain it; neither have I made them to
disprove the sentiment,  that our unhappiness is the conse-
quence of our disobedience, or of the fall of man:—For there
need not be a doubt in the minds of any, but that all the mis-
ery of which we are the subjects,  has been brought upon us
by disobedience to God's laws:—And these laws not only ex-
tend to a few particulars, but to every thing that can have any
influence  in the  proper management of  all the concerns of
human life;  and these laws are as clearly revealed to us in
that happy adaptation we behold in  a great variety of means to
the accomplishment of an equal variety of ends, as they could
be in a written code:  hence a man may as directly, and perhaps
as criminally, violate the laws of his Maker, by endeavoring
to destroy the connection between cause and effect,  as by
violating  any revealed  command.  Whenever  we use any
thing different from what it was  intended, we  disobey the
command of God.
   Hence, fellow-citizens, permit me to remark, that perver-
sion of things has been the most fruitful source of misery to
mankind.   By perversion of things,  I  mean the using them
 for the accomplishment of different ends from those for which
 they were designed.  The Creator has given to man a mora!
 sense, intellectual strength, and physical power.   The first of
 these enables him to judge of what is right and wrong, with
 respect to moral conduct; the second enables him to reason
 accurately and to form just conceptions on moral and natural
 subjects; the third enables him to obtain those things from
 the earth necessary to sustain animal life.  We see that the
 Creator has assigned distinct offices to  each of these differem
 gifts:—The first, to save us from  criminality; the second,
 from imposition, and the third, from starvation.
    Now, if the moral and intellectual powers  of men were
 employed only in the investigation of thoae subjects which Ire 
8
Nearly within  the atmosphere  of our  mental vision—thasr
only which  have a direct tendency to  increase the sum ol
human happiness, and to decrease the sum of human misery;
and if the natural power of the body were employed in obtain-
ing those things for which the voice of nature calls—and if
men were uniformly to pursue that judicious course of conduct
in the concerns of human life, for  which their  reason  and
judgment were given, to enable them to pursue—human hap-
piness, unquestionably, would be augmented beyond what, at
present,  has entered the mind of man to conceive.   Then
would human nature arise from the degradation of misery into
which it  has been cast by a  perversion of its  blessings,  and
begin to  assume her dignity, and ascend  towards her native
-<kies.
   But at present, fellow-citizens, the truth respecting man is
otherwise.   His moral sensibility, in too great a degree, is
effaced by an accumulation of guilt, and his intellectual facul-
ties, instead of being employed  in accomplishing the end for
which they were given, are employed much too frequently in
advancing his own and others' misery.  His physical powers,
instead of being exerted in supplying those things for which
nature calls, are too much employed in accumulating silver
and gold, (for whom  he knows not,)  or in pleasing a wild and
• •xtravagant fancy, or in extinguishing  human  life by war.
And it is  by this criminal perversion that the order of nature is
broken, and the disquietude of mankind increased.
   We have good evidence, fellow-citizens, that the faculties
of the mind of man are not the only blessings which Provi-
dence has bestowed upon us, that are used for purposes differ-
ent from  those for which they were designed.  This may be
the case as  it respects our food.  Is it at all probable that the
best food and manner of its preparation, have been adopted ?
Have we not reason to fear, that an imputation of guilt might
be made  to bear upon our characters, arising from perversion
with respect to choice in our daily sustenence ? Have we not
at least some reason to believe  that there are articles which
nature designed we should subsist  upon in a great degree,
which we subsist upon in a very small  degree—while there
are other articles which were not so  much designed for food
as for other purposes, that we use in  abundance?—What has
been said in regard to our food, applies equally to our drink.
Who does not know that a most destructive sin of perversion
rs  committed by us, in the bad use of spirituous liquors? Thi*
is  a fact certainly, of which none of us can be ignorant, 
9
  Now, who can tell how much pain and misery has  been
brought  upon mankind in this way, and  who can tell how
much human life has been shortened by a bad use of the good
things of Divine Providence ? When you look abroad, fellow-
citizens,  upon the material world, and behold that endless
variety contained in both the vegetable and mineral kingdoms,
you must then remember that all these were made and placed
there by God himself, each to answer some valuable purpose
in promoting the happiness of his creatures.   It should, if we
would reason correctly, be an axiom, that nature has  never
wrought in vain.  Let no  one imagine that our ignorance of
the work of nature, renders in the least degree her productions
useless.   All the evidence we are able to produce that nature
has wrought in vain,is our ignorance; and the importance of this
kind of evidence I need  not stay to investigate. • But it is our
duty, fellow-citizens, to investigate what effects the Supreme
Being designed to  produce, in creating such a multitude of
materials as there are in the world around us.
  To ascertain correctly what effect nature designed to pro-
duce by each of  these materials, constitutes true knowledge,
and one of the most sublime and useful subjects of human
contemplation.   In this  view of the  subject we  can see how
directly a correct knowledge of a true creature of  God, and
not a false one of the imagination, tends to promote human
happiness:  for if human suffering in a great measure arise
from applying the wrong means to effect the desired end, then
surely it  is the want  of a correct knowledge of what nature
intended to effect by each of these means, that is the cause of
all disconsolation, since  there is such a multitude of objects
in the material world, created by an infinitely wise and be-
nevolent Being for some useful purpose.  We may well believe
that our happiness must consist in acquiring a knowledge of
that purpose.
  Admitting the preceding remarks to be true, and acknowl-
edging, as we must, the great variety of materials existing in
both the mineral and vegetable kingdoms, and each of these
designed for  some particular purpose, have we not at least
some reason to fear that much human suffering is occasioned
by applying some of  those  materials to produce a  great
number of effects, each of which were very different in their
nature? If it can be said with truth,  that the wants of men
are many, it can be said with equal truth that we are not com-
pelled to use one thing to supply them all,  for nature has pro- 
io
vfded also many remedies.  We are taught by the great num-
ber and variety of articles, which the kind hand of Providence
has furnished us, that they were all designed for some one
purpose, more than another. I would not, however, be under-
stood to mean barely one single purpose.  For example, iron
may  and does answer all  the purposes  of husbandry and
mechanics for which such a material is necessary.  The same
may  be said with respect to many other substances.   I would
observe too, that some things are more general, and others
more particular in their uses.  Now, what I mean  by one
purpose, is, that each of these will answer the end nature  de-
signed  to accomplish by them, much better than any other.
For if these means, to which the all-wise and powerful hand
of nature has given efficacy to effect ends, should be used  to
effect those ends which it designed to effect by them, then we
may  expect effects the most salutary will attend our efforts to
alleviate human suffering.  Taking this view of  the subject,
we can see clearly how a true and  accurate knowledge  of
things  tends to increase human  happiness: for I  allude to
such  a  knowledge of the proper uses of things as would pre-
vent  us from applying any of them to a different  end from
that  for which they were intended.
   This knowledge cannot be obtained without a  long course
of application to study and experience.  And it was to  be
expected that mankind,  from the  commencement of. the
world,  would make but slow progress in obtaining accurate
knowledge  of the true creatures  of God, for  hitherto there
have been many barriers in the way to this attainment.  To
mention some of these barriers shall be the business of the
remainder of this discourse.
   Before I proceed to the execution of the work I  have pro-
posed to myself, I would present in one comprehensive view,
the nature and tendency of that knowledge, to which I have
already invited  your  attention.  In the  concerns of human
life,  it  is indispensably necessary to the happiness and contin-
uance  of men upon the earth, than  an almost infinite variety
of effects should be produced, and that they should be produc-
ed by proper and efficient causes.   The kind hand  of nature
has provided causes sufficient to produce those  effects, and
has established an unfailing connection between each of them,
so that when any of the means designed by nature to produce
Sffects are used, the desired result is sure to follow.
   The knowledge to which I would invite your attention, ft 
11
 a familiar and accurate  acquaintance with the proper anu
 efficient causes, or means, which nature has provided  to pro-
 duce those effects, with which the happiness and the existence
 of mankind are connected—for, when those means are used,
 there can be no failure.   The reason why we have been no
 more successful in promoting human happiness, is a want o!
 knowledge of those means to which nature has given efficao»
 to produce salutary effects.
  I will now proceed to mention some of those barriers which
 have hitherto prevented  our attaining this most  important
 knowledge.
  1st. Real knowledge of a true creature of nature, is difficult
 to attain.  We may, it is true, explore and understand the work
 of art, with a degree of  ease and accuracy, for the obvious
 reason that it is not a production of skill and judgment supe-
 rior to our own.  But the work of nature is executed by skill
 and judgment infinitely superior to that of men.  Hence it
 requires much accurate discrimination and patient thought to
 rightly understand  it.  Perhaps our familiar acquaintance
 with the works of art, and being daily accustomed to trace the
 footsteps of the architect,  have induced us to adopt the same
 manner of interpreting the works of nature, as of those  of art:
 and in this way it may be, that  we have been led  into error
 upon subjects where the truth would be of the utmost import-
 ance to us.
  I have observed  that nature's work, in its formation, indi-
 cates skill and wisdom infinitely superior to that of art   The
truth of this sentiment 1 presume we are all willing to acknowl-
edge.  For we must remember that nature, in her mysterious
operations, works in a great measure beyond the forecast of
man, in  the  present imperfect state of his knowledge; and
 there she has created, and there she still preserves and keeps
 in motion, the world of matter  and of mind.  Beyond the
comprehension of man she has formed all those materials, in
giving a different color and  shape to which, lies all the skill
and ingenuity of the artist.  But I need not enlarge on this
part of the subject;  what has already been said, it may be, ii
sufficient to convince us, that by studying the work of art wr
never can acquire an accurate knowledge of the useful things
 of nature.
  In obtaining useful knowledge by induction, of the means
that nature has provided for our happiness, a patient thinking
 is required,  which  is uniformly attended by a  disagreeable 
12
sensation in the mind, and when we endeavor to call all tin
energies of the mind to investigate critically the true connec-
tion between cause and effect, we find there is as great a pro-
pensity in the  mind to fly from this mode of philosophizing.
and to resort to  imagination and conjecture, as there is in a
ball to roll upon an inclined plain.  There has been in all ages
a solicitude  in men to know the causes of phenomena, and
this solicitude arises  in  part from fear and curiosity.   We
delight in being active, and the more  success with which that
activity is crowned in discovering the truth, the more curiosity
is excited and satisfied, and the more the mind is encouraged
to pursue  its discoveries.  Our minds  are so formed, that
agreeable sensations uniformly attend us when we make  any
new discovery in the latent things of nature, and the pleasure
which the mind receives in this way excites in us a strong de-
sire to  enquire into the causes of phenomena.  Tn  this way.
curiosity is gratified in an important  acquirement to human
knowledge.—Fear has also a tendency  to excite in us a dis-
position to enquire into the cause of things.  Whatever strange
appearances the  heavens may assume, if we but kno\»-  the
cause,  we are in a great measure satisfied   But let things as-
sume the same aspect,  and let the pestilence that walketh in
darkness begin to slay its thousands, and let man be ignorant
of the cause of this mighty destruction, ar:d this earth is im-
mediately filled with a multitude of anxious and  enquiring
beings: but should man be made acquainted with the cause.
and should it still produce its effects, his anxiety would in a
great measure subside.  It is, when we behold effects produced
we  know not how, that the mind is terrified.
  Now, this curiosity and fear to which  1  have alluded, have
in all  ages,  induced men to exclaim, "Happy is he who i*
able to discover the true cause of phenomena."  This anxiety
to know the connection between cause and effect, while it has
been conducive to the acquirement of useful knowledge, has <ii
the same time been the means of leading us into gross error.
The mind being impatient to ascertain  the causes of things,
and at  the same time unwilling to endure the labor, or to wait
the length of time which a critical investigation would require,
it immediately resorts to imagination and  conjecture, and in
this way falsehood is made to answer in  the room of truth—u
creature of the imagination, in place of a creature of God :-—
and in  this way our intellectual atmosphere has been so filled
and darkened with the creatures of conjecture, that the crea- 
13
  tutes of  God  are  hid  beneath their obscurity.  Never will
  mankind make that proficiency in all  the useful arts of life
  which is to be wished,  until all these shall have passed away
  before the clear light of demonstrative truth, like the fog that
  tolls up the mountain side before the rising glory of the sum-
  mer's morning.                         -*r—
    We should remember, fellow-citizens, that nature, and the
  laws of mind and matter, comprise all the subjects upon which
  we can contemplate—and all the books with which the world
  has been deluged,  must treat of something contained in one
  or the other of these subjects.  The best written description
  of any thing contained in  either of those subjects,  is only a
  species of painting, from the real original thing; and there is
  danger of the picture being defective  in two ways—first  a
  want in the artist of a correct knowledge of the original;  sec-
  ondly, a want of skill to paint accurately from the image in
  his mind.   A defect in a treatise arising from either of these
  two causes, subjects us to great danger of being led into error.
    It is important, therefore, that we for ourselves become in-
  timately acquainted with the actual things of nature.  Now
 how far mankind have been, from the above causes, decieved'
 and how far they have operated as barriers to the attainment
 of  useful knowledge, I shall not attempt at this time to say.
  Inat they have in no small degree, is very evident—for few
 works have outlived their authors and exerted  an influence
 on succeeding generations.  Among the  multitude of books
 that have been written, how small indeed has been the  num-
 ber, the adamantine basis of whose reputation has borne  them
 unrefined and unimproved  from the earliest ages, down to us
 amid the fluctuations of time and acumen of critics, and now
 govern the opinions of men ? The Scriptures, in religion, the
 tlliad of Homer, in poetry, and some works on the mathemat-
 ics, alone can with  success make pretensions to  such a basis ■
 for men have, by discovering the truth of things, learned that
 what  has  been  said of  them is  not true.  By being made
 acquainted with things themselves by actual survey, they have
 seen that the description  given by others was incorrect;  they
 have  seen that the picture  bears but a faint resemblance to
the original: and hence multitudes of books have sunk into
oblivion.  Where, it may be asked,  are  the writings of the
ancient philosophers ? where are those systems of ethics and
philosophy, in the formation and  promulgation of which  they
endured labors and made exertions not to be described ? They 
11
are exploded, and have given place  to a  more enlightened
and consistent philosophy.  A Bacon, a Newton, and a Reid,
have arisen, and by their discoveries and writings have illum-
inated the world with new lustre.  Cheered by these good
omens, we have the consolation in the pleasing hope,  that a
happier day still awaits the human  race, when perversion  of
every description shall  be exploded,  and nature restored  to
her wonted regularity, and the world to its wonted peace and
harmony.
  2d. An improper and unbounded trust in Divine Providence
has been a barrier to our obtaining  useful knowledge.   I will
pass over the endless trust and confidence of the heathen  in
their  imaginary duties and oracles, and come directly  home
among ourselves, in  this christian land.  I would observe  in
the first place, however, that I have an unshaken confidence
in the Deity, who gives a permanent and indissoluble connec-
tion between cause and effect, so that whenever any of those
means are used to produce effects which  he designed to pro-
duce by them, the divine  blessing will invariably follow, and
his blessing is to be acknowledged in establishing a connection
between  means and ends, and for this connection on the Deity
we must alone depend.  It is  undoubtedly a great blessing
that there is a connection  between eating and satisfying hun-
ger, between drinking and quenching thirst, and between the
application of medicines and a restoration to health.
  Now, it appears to me we should render more acceptable
service to our Maker by trusting and  looking to him for wis-
dom and directions  concernig what means to use, than by
expecting  him to bless whatever means we may indiscrimi-
nately employ.  We frequently hear it said, while prescribing
medicine for the sick, "No matter what the means are—with-
out the divine blessing all will be in vain ;  on the other hand.
with the  divine blessing all will  be well,  let us apply what
remedies we may."   The above sentiment seems to maintain
the idea, that God has established no connection between
cause and effect, and that causes are no more adapted to pro-
duce one effect than  another.
  I am willing  to own that this connection is depending on  '
the will of  the Creator; but I am not willing to own that  he
has not expressed  his  will by establishing that  connection.
Had we  sufficient wisdom we  should  undoubtedly see, that
every thing in the moral and natural world is brought about
hy a connection, in a regular system of cause and effect; and 
lj
rliat connection unquestionably was established at the prime-
val creation of things, and as God never changes, of course
that connection will last as long as the material world.   I am
free to  own that success is  altogether depending upon the
divine blessing, but that" divine blessing will not be received
out of the ordinary regulated operations of nature.  Nature
will never change any of her laws to favor any of her chil-
dren : nor indeed would it be a favor for her to do so.
  Now the evil arising from this improper trust in the super-
natural intervention of Divine Providence, appears to be this:
it induces us to believe that there is no lasting connection be-
tween cause and effect; and if so, it will  be of no use to u?-
to examine  into the nature of causes, so as to ascertain what
effects they will produce;—for,  according to this mode oi
reasoning, there is no connection between them, except when
the Divine Being interposes his aid in some supernatural man-
ner; and according to this  mode of interpreting  things,  ii
certain causes produce certain effects to-day, it is no evidence
that the same causes will to-morrow produce similai results.
Hence it is  of but little  consequence to trouble ourselves in
learning the nature of any cause;  we have only to apply any
thing that comes within our reach, and then  supplicate the
Deity and await his blessing.   The injurious effects of such a
course, I need not stay to investigate.
  3d. An improper discouragement or a want of perseverance
has been a barrier to our obtaining extensive and useful knowl-
edge.  This I think is especially true with respect to the
healing art. There :tre cases of disease, undoubtedly, when
a cure is impossible, in  the  very nature of the case.   Some
diseases are  incurable in their nature—others perhaps not in
their nature, but in certain stages.   A disease may be said to
be curable in its nature, when no important organ is destroy-
ed.  It is reasonable to suppose, that by suitable perseverance
in the proper  manner, all diseases, curable  in their nature,
might be removed.   But what multitudes who appear destin-
ed to drag out a miserable existence by pain arising from dis-
eases curable in their nature! Why, it may be asked, are not
their diseases cured ?  Most people when they are sick, believe
that there is something which would cure them, if they did
but know what it was and where it was to be found.  But the
reason why they are not cured, appears to me to be this, the>
have  been carried through a certain round of medicine taking,
and because that has not cured them, they are  pronounced 
1G
 nfcurable, and no more exertion is made in a systematic form
 for their recovery.  How long has it been since doctors have
 attempted with any degree of success, the cure  of epilepsy?
 (and it is a disease, for aught that we can discover, curable in
 its nature.)   We ought never to  be  discouraged  in the least
 degree,"  where a cure is possible in the nature of  the case.
 What  has  been said respecting medicine, may be  said with
 equal truth respecting most of the arts.   If a man once  be-
 comes convinced that an object cannot be attained, he never
 will  make any further exertions to attain it.
  4th. The fourth barrier to our obtaining useful knowledge.
 is established institutions.   These may be established in two
 ways, by legal authority and by custom and prejudice.  That
 the well-being of mankind  requires societies and institutions,
 is evident.   We are, however, to  have a special regard to  it,
 that the formation and continuation of them be in reality for
 the good of mankind, and  not for the misery and degradation
 of the multitude for the aggrandizement of a few.  In an age
 .<nd  country like our own,  there is no necessity of sacrificing
 individual happiness for general good; and on the other hand,
 there is  no necessity for  sacrificing the general good to ad-
 vance individual happiness.  But the happiness of individuals
 is increased by increasing that of the whole, and the happiness
 of the whole community perhaps is the most effectually ad-
 vanced, by a general dissemination of knowledge.
  Any institutions, therefore, which in any degree operate as
 a barrier to a general  dissemination  of  knowledge, or as a
preventive  to improvement and discoveries in the arts, must
 be considered as injurious and opposed to the true  interests of
 mankind.  Our own country, with regard to  its civil and re-
ligious institutions, has set  the nations of the earth a glorious
 example.   The American mind, touched  by the  miraculous
 wand of the patriots of the Revolution, to a perception of the
 aue  philosophy of civil government and religious liberty, has
 kept on its way successfully and gloriously; and we are cheer-
 ed by good omens to believe it will continue to spread, until
 it shall have disenfranchised the world from the grasp of eve-
 ry species of despotism.
  I have remarked that the good of mankind required  the
 formation of institutions.   This I think,  will appear evident
 to all.  It seems needful there should be institutions of law,
 medicine, and divinity, and that  there  should  be a certain
 number of men who should make themselves acquainted with, 
17
  these institutions, so as to officiate as professional characters
  and that a knowledge of each of these professions should be
  a science, in the illustration of which, books should be written
  and that an acquaintance with these books should be necessary
  to initiate one into the profession.  But  among all our con-
  veniencies there will still be inconveniencies—and the last
  cannot well be avoided in the present imperfect state of hu
  man nature.  I acknowledge, however, that this inconvenience
  would  be obviated in established  institutions, had perfection
  been attained in any of them: but no one will pretend that
  this is the case.  Hence as knowledge is progressive, learned
 institutions ought not to assume the  form of a  perpetual en-
 campment.
   We believe, for ourselves, that  great improvement will be
 made in the arts, and especially in the healing art; and to the
 institution of medicine I would confine my remarks.  It is my
 design to show wherein the present institution of medicine has
 operated as a barrier to the  advancement of knowledge in
 that profession.
   It was remarked by Lord Bacon, that medical knowledge
 had not been much  advanced, because physicians reasoned
 too  much  in a circle and  not enough  in a line.  With this
 sentiment, we for ourselves certainly must agree; and we think
 it must remain so,  according to the present establishment of
 that institution.  For, when  a young man commences the
 study of medicine, he receives a catalogue  of  all the books
 with which he is to acquaint himself, in order to obtain a suf-
 ficient knowledge to enter upon the business of the profession
 —and when he has finished a certain round of  study, he im-
 agines himself completely qualified to enter upon the practice
 of physic.   He does commence this practice, guided by what
 ho has learned from others;—he has read perhaps all author*
 of much note, from Hypocrates down to the present day, and
 if he can tell who has been the most ingenious in speculation.
 he is unable to ascertain who  has been the most successful in
 practice—(and with  respect  to  many important things in
 medicine, rival authors are nearly equally divided, and  it is
 not certain that either are right,  but quite so that both are
 not correct.)
   Such,  fellow-citizens, is the present condition of medicaF
knowledge; such the situation of an institution which pretends
to be the prop of sinking, dying human nature.   If men en-
gaged in the practice of medicine  have been unable rightly
                          2# 
18
to understand the true philosophy of the healing art,  for this
we blame them not; and if they have in their researches over-
looked the truth, there is nothing criminal in all this, although
it may have been the source of much human misery.   I am
not going to say but that there have been and still are, many
in the regular practice of medicine, for whom 1 entertain sen-
timents of the highest respect.  I know that there have been,
and hope there still are, true philanthropists and lovers of truth
in that profession, who would be glad to know and receive the
truth, let it come from what quarter it might.   But this is not
true with respect to all, neither should we  expect it—neither
are the bad effects resulting from the establishment of that
institution, greater than might be expected in the present im-
perfect state of human nature.
   The medical faculty, viewed in all the traits of its  charac-
ter, possesses a mighty influence  over  the public mind, not
only in medical affairs, but in all other.  The statement of a
few facts will render the truth of this remark sufficiently evi-
dent.   In the first place,  they are very numerous, and inter-
spersed through every portion of our country.  They are, or
at least are regarded,  as men of more learning than the prin-
cipal part of community; and with a few exceptions they are
men of wealth, and the greater part of community are indebt-
ed to them, and the debtor is uniformly a slave to the creditor.
They are supposed also to possess knowledge, on which the
health and  lives of men are depending.  Besides all this, it is
an institution of long  standing: it can  boast of  every thing
venerable in antiquity, and every thing lofty and splendid in
intellect—of every thing sublime in erudition, and every thing
praiseworthy in benevolence.  An institution  like this, one
might well suppose, had struck its roots to the centre, and thai
its branches had overshadowed the earth. Such an institution,
we can readily  perceive, would assume to itself the form of a
state of perfection, and operate as an effectual barrier to furth-
er investigation;—it would say to the curious mind  of the
self-taught  investigator of the latent  principles  of nature,
"Thus far shall thou push thy discoveries, and here shall thy
proud course be staid."  It would say to knowledge, while on
its rapid flight to ameliorate the condition  of man, "Turn in
hither, and remain forever in  the temple that we have erect-
ed."  Great importance being attached to it, from these high
pretensions, and  being fostered by the civil authority, it pos-
sesses, of course, great advantages, to check in the bud every
appearance of innovation.   It may, with a good degree of 
19
accuracy, be compared to a brazen wall, whose foundation is
pretended to be laid in the centre, and whose top is pretended
to reach the heavens—-and all that is known, and all that is
honorable, is pretended to be entirely included within its own
caverns; and in this way an  immovable anchor is cast to a
radical reform in the healing art;—for the man who should
be found to possess courage sufficient to approach and pre-
sume to examine any of  its materials,  or investigate any of
its principles, would immediately be regarded  as a dangerous
innovator, and expose himself to the shafts of the vindictive
displeasure of its adherents. They would soon be aroused from
their tranquil repose, and form themselves in warlike array.
Soon, like Mount Sinai, the whole faculty would be dark with
rage and a tempest of wrath, ready to burst upon the devoted
head of the aggressor.  The faculty would be  instantly awak-
ened from the slumbers of antiquated institutions, and girding
itself for the contest,  would go forth from conquering to con-
quer. And, wo unto the man, wo unto his reputation, wo unto
his practice, and wo unto  his all, on whom shall fall the scath
of its blighting indignation!
  Why, it may be asked, are physicians so alarmed?  Can it
be that a tender regard for the good of mankind, has inspired
them with  such  insatiable fury ?   Surely not—for when men
are engaged in promoting that object, a more judicious and
humane movement characterizes their conduct.  Evidently it
is their own interest for their  craft, which has inspired them
to contend with so much warmth  againsc any innovation.
  And now, while  all the  other arts and sciences are undergo-
ing reform and  revolution for the better, it remains for you,
fellow-citizens, to  say whether one of the  most useful and
important of all arts, shall linger in the work of reform, and
remain based upon the same foundation  forever, merely for
the gratification and  aggrandizement of a few professional
characters.  I trust that upon this subject you  will act worthy
of American citizens—worthy of  a free, thinking, intelligent
people.   To  engage  in the work of  reform, we have every
possible inducement: our government is auspicious to it;  the
path already shines brightly before us.   A Franklin is in the
clear upper skies—a Thomson will soon go to join the Amer-
ican  constellation  of philosophers and  reformers, and  the
heavens will beam with new light.  Beneath its illumination
let us walk the journey of life, and at its final  termination let
us commend our country  and all the concerns  of the human
race, to the Divine benediction. 
20
LECTURE II.
  In a preceding discourse, it was my object to illustrate.
briefly, the nature  and tendency of a correct knowledge of
the uses of those things which nature has provided to advance
our happiness.   And then, secondly, I mentioned some of the
harriers to our obtaining that knowledge.   In the  present
lecture I propose to consider the following things :—
  1st.  What it is to make a discovery.  2d. What qualifica-
tions ought a man to  possess, and what manner of life ought
he to pursue, to render him eligible to make a discovery.   3d.
I shall  consider Doctor Samuel Thomson,  and the discovery
lie has made in the healing art.
  1st.  I am to consider what it is to make a discovery in  the
useful  things of  nature.   It is, unquestionably, a great bles-
sing to us, that we have  through the medium of authentic
histories, the opinions of men in almost every  age, upon all
the most important subjects respecting  human nature.   To
become acquainted with the sentiments of the ancients and
the moderns upon the arts and sciences generally, constitutes
what is usually called learning.   And  this learning, besides
its being a source of much satisfaction to  the mind, is in a high
degree useful to mankind.   But like all  other useful things, it
may through the weakness of human intellect, not on account
of any  thing it possesses in itself, be diverted from producing
its designed and desired effects : and whatever bad effects may
attend the acquirement of learning, it must be acknowledged
that its good effects more than balance its evil effects.  The
labors of the present and past ages have produced a splendid
temple of knowledge ; and in examining its materials, we are
made acquainted with much important truth, and many useful
maxims;  and, indeed, without the experience of past ages,
the human race  would always  continue in an infantile state,
as to their knowledge. It must be acknowledged, however,
when a man has made himself ever so well acquainted with
the writings of others, he has navigated  no new sea, seen
nothing but what others have  explored  before him ; he  has
avoided no frightful rocks and whirlpools which  he was  not
warned to  shun, and for which directions were not previously
given him.  Hence he will be likely to trust altogether in the 
21
 -kill of his guides who have gone before him.   This will
 induce him to practice upon the theories of others, without
 ever undertaking to form one himself.  In this way he will
 turn his attention back, instead of pressing forward towards
 the mark of the prize of the high callingof suffering humanity.
 We believe, for ourselves, that great discoveries and improve-
 ments will be made in  all the useful arts of life, so that the
 knowledge men now possess, will appear to  those who have
 their existence hereafter, as the notions of the ancients do to
 us.   The man therefore, who has made himself acquainted
 with all that has  gone before him, is not entitled to the high
 appellation of a  discoverer.  The one  has  been   made ac-
 quainted with the work and operations of nature, through the
 medium of the writings of men.  The other makes himself
 acquainted with  the same work, without any such medium.
 The one studies nature by a species of maps or painting : the
 other, by actual survey.  The one studies the volumes writ-
 ten by men : the other, the volume of nature made intelligi-
 ble by God himself.   The one remains, as to his knowledge,
 with the rest of mankind : the other ventures alone, without
 any other guide  than  his own  judgment, to step forth  and
 explore the latent causes of phenomena.  The one moves
 forward to the execution of his work, governed by  rules pre-
 scribed by others : the other prescribes rules for himself, act-
 in conformity  with them, pursues his discoveries, and leaves
 mankind in the rear.
  Such, my friends, have appeared to me to be some of the dis-
 tinctions between a man of learning, and a discoverer.   We
 should remember, however,  that not every one who makes
 pretensions to  the high honor of a discoverer, is  worthy of
 that name.  We are in danger of imposition from this quar-
 ter, as well as from  all others.   A man may proclaim to the
 world that he  has made a discovery merely because he has
 been successful in  imagining  what the  cause  is of  a certain
 effect; and this cause has an  existence  no where but in his
 imagination, and on that account it becomes much the more
dear to him.  He regards it with all  the tender solicitude of
a parent, and when it  has arrived at proper maturity, he en-
deavors to adopt it into the family of nature, among the sons
of God.   It becomes us, therefore, to examine with  discrim-
ination every thing that  presents itself to us, in an attitude of
laying claim to be a new discovery.  We are to inquire wheth-
 er it be a production  of the imagination, or whether it be a. 
no
production of a long course of study and experience,  h re-
quires an experimental test to substantiate the truth and utili-
ty of any new discovery or invention.  For a discovery  may
be defined  in this way :  It is to obtain demonstrative knowl-
edge of causes which  produce effects of which we were before
ignorant, or to discover  some unknown cause, and learn by
experience what effects it was designed by nature to produce.
  2d. What qualifications  ought a man to possess, and  what
manner of  life ought  he to pursue, in order  to render  him
eligible to make a discovery, according to the above definition
of that term ? However different the sentiments of men as to
:he proper answer to the above question, may be in rome res-
pects, in one point all will be agreed, and this is, he should be
a man of genius, talents  and  observation.  It is a sentiment
deeply rooted in man, that when any thing of importance is to
be accomplished, it requires great previous preparation.  The
weakness of mankind is such, whenever he in the  limited
sphere in which  he is destined  to move, undertakes to  pro-
duce any important effects, it taxes all the  energies of his
mind to make preparation  for their production.   Hence  how
many minds, the exertions of which are required,  and  how-
much expense and labor necessary, to prepare for one battle.
\nd it is so uniformly where any work of this  kind is to be
brought about.   But nature in the accomplishment of its work,
operates in a different manner.   There is no  long, tedious,
preparatory course pursued in sending the pestilence to  slay
its thousands; and without any clamor, the sun emits mill-
ions of oceans of light, to illuminate the earth.   It would be
incorrect, perhaps, to  say that-nature wields the mind in  ma-
king a discovery, in the same manner it does inanimate mat-
ter  in producing a phenomenon.   And still  it appears to be
the  working of nature in the mind, which enables it to explore
the  work of nature.  It appears to be nature investigating its
own work, through the medium of the human mind.  The
subject viewed in this point of light, there would not appear
to be any great necessity of learning, for comprising any part
of the character of a discover.  View the subject as we will,
it seems  difficult to  determine how much  learning a man
should possess, in order  to render him capable  of making a,
discovery.  But it seems to me not difficult to determine that
he should be a man of some  learning, and a good degree of
originality.  My sentiments on this subject may be in some
 espects a little different from those of some of my fellow-men, 
23
and in asserting them, I only  claim the privilege every frth1
man enjoys, without pretending to any superior knowledge.
We have remarked that it is a sentiment deeply rooted in the
mind of man, that where any thing of great importance is to
be accomplished, it requires great previous preparation.  W e
have said also, that nature performs silently, and without an\
preparatory course, the most  stupendous works the mind of
man can conceive.   And then, we barely suggested this idea.
that a tact of mind necessary to make a discovery, is so much
the gift of nature, and that its operations are  such in the ex-
ecution of its work as to resemble more the operations of na-
ture than the operations of the human mind, in the acquisition
of learning, and in producing effects in which human agency
is conspicuously seen.   And in this way we hinted that a dis-
covery might be made without pursuing  that preparatory
course which most men would deem  necessary.   For were
we to consult mankind at large, concerning what qualifications
a man ought to possess in order to  make a discovery, un-
doubtedly  our  attention  would   be immediately   directed
towards some character eminent both for learning and family.
To prove the above statement, we would cite you to the his-
tories of men who  have made themselves eminent by thei:
successful researches into the  works of nature.  There you
would see what exertions are  made, not only to exaggerate
their attainments in the f«rts and  sciences, but also to prove
that they were descended from an ancient lineage of illustri-
ous ancestors.  And mankind would  be likely to assign a
character to one whom they  would deem  likely to  make a
discovery, similar to the character they wish  to give to the
man who had already  made a discovery.   They would not
look for a man in the lower walks of life, who would unfold
to them the laws of nature.  No,  the language of the multi-
tude would be, let him be famous for his birth and blood; and
at the time  of his emission into the world, let some new aspect
appear in the heavens, to be  ominous of his future achieve-
ments; and let the  first dawnings of reason be met by the
most accurate description*, and the clearest logical deductions \
let him associate only  with those whose conduct it would be
the height of his ambition to imitate; and as he approximates
to mature age, let each expansion of every faculty of his mind,.
be tutored and shaped according to the best fashions of soci-
ety, and the most perfect models of the schools; let volume*
of books be thrown  open to his view; let  his soul be earl v 
24
 Inspired with all the fire and sublimity of Homer and Virgil;
 let him  have free access to all  the  means of  improvement
 which his native country affords ; then let him cross the seas
 and become a member of institutions of learning venerable for
 their antiquity ; let him explore all the splendid works of art,
 and view the whole aspect of nature, in all the ancient coun-
 tries of Europe and Asia.  Similar would be the character of
 the  man whom mankind  generally would select to add to out
 present stock of knowledge.   Such, undoubtedly, most  men
 would deem the necessary qualifications for a man to possess,
 in order to bring to light  the mysterious things of nature, and
 to explode  pre-conceived opinions, and overthrow long estab-
 lished institutions,  and advance human knowledge towards a
 state of unmingled perfection.   But let this prodigy  of learn-
 ing come forth  and open his  mouth in wisdom, and instruct
 the human race, and let the world be silent and attentive  to
 his words.   If it be a subject in Religion he chooses to discuss,
 we shall immediately be made acquainted with the sentiments
 of the fathers.   The reasonables and the  unreasonables  in
 their creeds will be exhibited,  and the heterodox and ortho-
 dox  will  not be forgotten.  The text is brought to view as it
 may be understood in the light of translations, and  lengthy,
 and labored criticisms are made upon the originals.  If it be
 a subject in philosophy, he is able to  exhibit the various sys-
 tems in that science, in  their true light;  and with a great
 degree of acumen  to show their relations, connexions  and
 tendencies.  He will be able to follow with ease and accuracy,
 his great masters in their sublime speculations and  discover-
 ies upon and in the most  intricate and lofty subjects.  If he
 should turn his attention to  politics, and  should he be an
American, and visit no foreign clime  to obtain instruction  in
that  science, his mind would  be all on fire by a right under-
standing  of free institutions, and rational government, from
the true, brilliant light, which the heroes and patriots of the
Revolution  have shed upon the civil world.  And here let us
digress one moment, barely to make one statement.  Of all
the men chosen to  transact business for  others, of which we
have any account,  none have acted so wisely, so prudently,
and so disinterestedly as  the illustrious dead, who  consum-
mated the American Revolution.  They have laid a perfect
foundation to erect a political edifice  upon, whose fame and
 salutary influence will extend, we sincerely hope, to all the na-
 tions of the earth.  Let it  be remarked, to the immortal honor 
23
 of those who framed it, that our form of government neetfa
 not a reform to make us happy, but obedience to its require-
 ments.  We will now return to our subject.  If the man, con-
 cerning whose qualifications we have been speaking, should
 furn his attention to medical knowledge, he might undoubt
 edly say and write much, which would, perhaps, be useful to
 mankind.   Should he undertake a  work on  anatomy, and if
 he has been more discriminating in  dissection, and more per
 spicuous in description, than his predecessors, his work will be
 more useful than theirs.   He would be able, unquestionably
 to follow Linnaeus in all his profound researches into the veg-
 etable  kingdom.  He would understand,  according  to that
 author, not  only the  name of every plant in the vegetable
 kingdom, but its particular genus and species.   And  we fear
 his knowledge of these niceties would be much more accurate
 than of their medical efficacy, and the proper manner of ad-
 ministering  them in curing disease.   He would not, undoubt
 edly, be a stranger to the doctrine of chemistry.  He would
 be able to delineate all its principles with precision and judg-
 ment.   Following the paths others have beaten before him,
 he would be able with ease and accuracy, to analyze almost
 any substance, either in  the vegetable or mineral kingdom ;
 and he would  be able to explain the effects of minerals ar.d!
 vegetables on organic life ; aud it is probable he could show
 with much greater exactness, how much poison it would take
 to destroy animal life, than how much  of  nature's assistance
 it would require to save it, when threatened with destruction
 by disease.  It is evident, fellow-citizens,  that the  mind of
 man is  not sufficiently capacious to  understand every thing;
 and hence  the man who has  aspired after universal  knowl-
 edge, has not made great proficiency in any.  Man must bring
 the feeble, scattered rays of his intellect to a point, if he would
 look deeply  into any of the sciences. If the attention be di'
 vided in  examining the vast number of subjects which may
present themselves to us, the  strength of the  mind  will be
exhausted on detached parts, without producing any salutary
 effects.   It is like the march of an army in single companies,
 to obtain a victory over a powerful, well-organized,  and nu-
 merous enemy.  But if we would be invincible in our exei''
 tions to acquire truth, we must bring all our mental  power."
 to bear upon the science of one profession.  The man, there-
fore, whom the generality of mankind would seek as eligible
to make  a discovery, would not even be so likely tojjxisjjr 
26
the acquirement of knowledge, as it may be learned from a;.
acquaintance with the standard authors on the arts and scien-
ces—much less there would he be likely to obtain knowledge
of things upon which no author had written.  Now, the man
relative to whose qualifications we have been speaking, would
undoubtedly have a multitude of materials cast into his mind,
and it is but reasonable for us to believe, that he would exert
his intellectual strength more in the arrangement of those ma-  ,
terials  in his own  mind, which he had acquired by reading,
than he would in  searching into the  unexplored laws of na-
ture.  If a man all his life time, has been accustomed  to
travel a plain, beaten way, he would  make but poor steerage
in travelling where there is no way at all.  And if d man
should undertake the investigation of any subject, on which
he is acquainted with the opinions of a multitude, he would
be far more likely to fall in  with some of their views, than to
strike out a new mode of interpretation for himself.   It is so
with mankind, that they had  much rather pursue the  old.
hard-beaten path, than to undertake a new one, although they
should be convinced a better one might be known.   Hence.
the man of erudition would be apt to  resort to some favorite
author or rule for instruction, instead of critical  and demon-
strative induction.
   In this way his learning,  although it might qualify him to
discharge  all the  duties of any station  to which his count!"}
might call  him, would at the  same  time, prove  a barrier to
him in looking into the intricate things of nature ; but not on
account of any thing learning possesses in itself, nor on ac-
count of any  influence  it appears designed to have,  but on
account of the limited extent of the human mind.   The mind
can be but occupied, and when it is occupied with one thing,
it cannot at the same time be occupied with another.  And if
we are extensively acquainted with the histories and opinions
of men in the present and past ages, these will excite our at-
tention, and  so prevent us from aiming at a reform. Fur-
thermore, when a man has in a regular manner been admitted
into a profession, he very properly intends, by it, to obtain his
livelihood, and he very contentedly, while performing the
duties of his profession, follows rules prescribed to him by his
leaders;  and so far is he from endeavoring to effect a radical
reform, that he does not even desire it—and I am sorry to be
compelled to say  it,  no, not even if he thought the good of
mankind  imperiously  demanded it.    This :s true, I verily 
27
 oelieve, with respect to some, though I am far from applying
 it to all.  Thus we see, that the man whom the majority of
 mankind would select as eligible to obtain further knowledge
 of the nature of things, would  be induced not so to do, both
 from prejudice and interest.  Besides, when a man has been
 regularly and extensively educated to a profession,  he con-
 tracts a fondness for his favorite authors, and while pursuing
 his academical and professional studies, he forms many an in-
 teresting acquaintance.  All these  would be like so many
 cords which would effectually bind him  to support, without
 any  radical reform, that profession.  But admitting those
 cords were broken, still he would be deterred from it, were he
 not a man of invincible courage and perseverance, by the un-
 measured and unlimited  wrath he would incur from the insti-
 tution.
   The above statement we think, is especially true with res-
 pect  to the medical establishment; for no  set of men, if we
 except the Catholic clergy, regard with so much implacable
 displeasure, any innovation, as  the physicians.  From the
 preceding statements,  it appears  pretty evident that a man,
 unsophisticated  in the medical  profession, would be more
 likely to make discoveries,and to operate reforms in that art,
 than one who, from his youth, had been familiar with the mul-
 titude of theories and speculations on that subject.  For, in
 making discoveries, we must work where no one has wrought
 oefore ; we must investigate that which no one has investiga-
 ted.  And hence, the man  whose  mind is uncontaminated,
 and free from all the contradictory opinions and speculations
 of medical writers, would, in our opinion, be far more likely to
 attain to originality, than any other.  If it should be said that
 medical men have, within a few centuries  past, made great
 improvements;  to this it is replied, that there is such a thing
 as just reasoning from wrong data.  It matters not how high
 the edifice  is carried, or however finished its  materials are
 if the foundation be  radically defective, the fabric must fall;'
 and from its ruins, to be sure, it is to be hoped that some wel<
 waived stones may be selected, to assist in erecting the new
 one upon a.better and more rational basis.
  3d. We were  to consider Dr.  Samuel  Thomson, and his
 medical discoveries.  But who is Dr. Thomson ? He is a man
 born in  New-England, state of New-Hampshire, and now 5V
 years of age.  But who is Dr. Thomson ?  He is the illiterate
sweat doctor, or racher, the head of all the sweat doctors! the ' 
2S
 greatest impostor in the world, and has been the means of the
 destruction of thousands! by the deleterious effects of steam.
 ?obelia and capsicum!—But who, it is still asked, is Dr. Thom-
 son ? He is a man possessing natural talents, second to no one
 engaged in the healing art, and if he has had no degreess con-
 ferred upon him by any institution, nature has not neglected
 ilim, for she has conferred on him  one degree in physic.
   Such are the contradictory opinions of the character of Dr.
 Thomson.  Some are in the belief, and are free to express
 that belief, that the name of Samuel Thomson will live in all
 future ages,  and  continue to  brighten in proportion  to the
 circulation and developementof the full extent of his medical
 discoveries.  Others believe that his name will be mentioned
 :n the succeeding age, only to be abhorred  and  despised.
 Viewing the  relations in  which he stands to the whole com-
 munity, it is as we might  expect it would be—a medical re-
 former may expect the mingled adulations and detractions of
 his fellow beings.
   It  has often been said, that "Dr. Thomson is an impostor."'
 Let us proceed and examine the means he has had, from the
 commencement of his medical career until now, of imposing
 on the people.  Let us bring him  before us when but a child,
 with his parents.   At this time they were inhabitants of a new
 country, and of course his advantages for an early education
 were very limited.  But this privation  of schooling was per-
 haps compensated to  him, for  this situation afforded him an
 opportunity to pursue that  study  for which nature seems  to
 have designed  him.  There his mind was early expanded—
not by a studious attachment to books, or by moving  in  the
fashionable circles of society, but  by a studious and youthful
 attachment to the investigation of the vegetable kingdom.   If
 appears he very early united all his amusements and  recrea-
 tions with  some useful and  curious experiment.   He  was, it
 seems, an ardent lover of knowledge from his very infancy;
 but he chose to obtain it rather by searching nature,  without
 any medium or rules  prescribed by others, than to resort  to
 books.  He resided in a place where  nature had scattered
 with a wasteful hand, all those objects which are calculated to
excite the admiration and exertions of an ingenious mind.
   It was in thi3  romantic retreat  that the mind  of  young
 Thomson first received that eager curiosity to enquire into
 the uses of things, which perhaps laid the foundation for his
 after discoveries.  In this retreat he was a stranger to all those 
29
 insidious designs which human nature is ever wont to instigate
 in older and more propitious parts of the country.  Here bis
 mind was not contaminated with false  notions in any of the
 sciences, or  with undue prejudices for any established insti*
 tutions, by an acquaintance with the writings of any sectarU
 an zealot.  There he seems to have taken nature alone for
 his guide and instructor; and  he was  as free to explore its
 works as it had been beneficial to him, in both giving to his
 mind a  tact favorable for enquiring, and in placing such a
 variety of objects  around  him, which seemed to invite hk
 investigation.   He continued to follow with unremitted zeal,
 a course of critical investigation, until he had arrived to years
 of manhood: nor indeed did his enquiries stop here—for he
 entered upon those scenes of human life, in which men gener-
 ally find it for their  interest to reduce to practice all the im-
 portant knowledge they have before  known in theory.  It
 was so with Thomson; what he had known before in theory,
 and what had served him for amusement, now he knew  with
 an experimental certainty, and it served him in saving human
 life.
  It was not until some time after Dr. Thomson had a family.
 that he thought seriously about giving himself to the practice
 of medicine;  for he informs us in his narrative, that he had a
 physician living in one of  his houses for some time after his
 marriage, whom he frequently employed in  his own family;
 and it was after this and other medical  gentlemen had ex-
 hausted their skill to  no good effect, in endeavors to  removt
 some diseases in his own family, that Thomson attempted his
 success in the healing art.  He had before this time, however,
 collected a great many facts respecting remedies in disease'.
 In those cases which we have  mentioned, he exercised his
 best judgment, both in determining what the disease was, and
 in making a selection in remedies, and his exertions were
 attended with perfect success.
  This success was regarded perhaps by  many, and even by
 himself,  as a casual occurrence: but he found,  however, by
 pursuing a similar mode of treatment in many other cases, he
 met with similar success.  Thus, by following that  course
 which his own reason and judgment suggested to him to be.
 proper, he was taught, to a demonstrative certainty, the great
 principle of life and motion in animal bodies—and before, he
 was actually sensible  of it, he had made a great discovery in
 the  healing art; and  ere he was aware, he found himself alto-
gether engaged in the practice of medicine.
                          3* 
80
  Dr. Thomson knew the nature of the medicines he admin-
istered, and he knew too, the effects they produced, and  he
saw they were salutary; and  from this knowledge of medi-
cine and of its effects, he was led to a clear apprehension of
the first moving cause of animal life.
  Now, this is the very way which the great Bacon directed
to discover truth.   But what can we see in this that looks like
deception.   Admitting he was disposed  to  deceive,  what
means has  he had of doing it? He had a jealous, scrutinizing
community to watch him,  which were ever-disposed to take
the greatest possible advantage of the least misfortune.   Add
to this, the interest of the physicians required  Thomson's
persecution and destruction,  and they never have hitherto
failed of serving to the extent of their ability their interest.
If he were a deceiver, he certainly would have been long ere
this detected.  But amid all their endeavors to destroy him.
Dr. Thomson still  lives; and  notwithstanding all the false
reports put in circulation,  by invidious, designing  men, Dr.
Thomson's theory and practice of medicine continue to gain
ground with accelerated rapidity.
  We have remarked, that Dr. Thomson was  intensely en-
gaged in his favorite study;  but he pursued his studies in u
different manner from many others.   Possessing a great de-
cree of originality, a strong and vigorous intellect, and an
uncommon share of intuition, without the discipline of an
academical course of study, he was able to pursue to the great-
est success, his favorite course of investigation.   His mind
was free and unshackled from all preconceived opinions; the
past was  hid from  his view, by a want of an opportunity to
form a familiar acquaintance with history; the present, as  it
respected politics and religion, was unnoticed, by an insatia-
ble thirst to push his discoveries in the healing art; and hence
all the native vigor of his mind was brought to bear upon one
point,  and that was, the nature and  cause of disease.  All
besides this had nothing inviting to him ; and this is the very
man whom we should select to make discoveries in the heal-
ing art.
  Fellow-citizens, Dr. Thomson has made discoveries in the
healing art—great and  important discoveries.  He has con-
ferred  substantial  benefit upon  man, and  man  will  always
remember him.  He has in simplicity and  in  honesty,  and
very frequently without any compensation, been doing his
fellow creatures good.  He has been  successful in removing
disease of the most obstinate kind, to the truth of which mui- 
SI
 titudes can with the greatest cheerfulness bear witness; and
 most of those engaged in the Thomsonian practice of medi-
 cine, have been rescued from the very brink of the grave by
 its efficacy, and sent back into the world to promulgate its utility.
 Such  is the fact respecting the writer of this discourse; and
 this success, fellow-citizens, with which the Thomsonian sys-
 tem has been crowned, has brought the unmingled wrath of
 the whole faculty, down upon Thomson and his mode of prac
 tice.   It is this, which  has  alarmed  them; and  it is  this
 which has made our public papers  teem with so many false,
 insidious reports, respecting steam and the steam practice.
   It may with truth be said, that Dr. Thomson has had every
 thing to encounter, since he commenced his medical career.
 The statement of a few facts will render the truth of the pre-
 ceding sentence sufficiently evident.   In the first place, he
 was not a man possessing refined education, which is necessa-
 ry to make a man popular among the more influential part of
 community.  It is  a truth, that real merit is not the first qual-
 ification to give a man  influence  among mankind.  Doctor
 Thomson was plain and undisguised  in all his manners  and
 movements.   Had he assumed more of that pomp and tinsel
 which characterizes many popular impostors, he would un-
 doubtedly have executed his work with much less difficulty.
 But he first commenced  the practice of medicine in his own
 family and neighborhood, without making any high preten-
 sions to superior knowledge.
   But he found in very truth, that his practice was a great
 improvement,  and he knew by experience that he could  re-
 lieve the sufferings of his fellow beings; and he moves forward,
 to do what was in  his power to do,  as every philanthropist
 would.  But his success in practice was met with the utmost
 exertion of the faculty for his destruction; and hence he had
 the whole weight of their influence to contend with.  When
 we remember  that Dr. Thomson,  some thirty or forty years
 ago, was what is termed  "an illiterate man," traversing the
 forests of New-England to ascertain  the nature and efficacy
 of vegetables as medicine; when we remember all the perse-
 cution and opposition he has received  from regular bred phy-
 sicians and their numerous adherents—and when we remem-
 ber also, that, notwithstaning  all those formidable barriers
 which have been thrown in the way of his progress,  not only
by doctors, but by the prejudices of the people and the treach-
ery of confidenliais; he Iras within these United States more 
32
 than one million of people disposed to judge favorably of his
 manner of curing disease.  With these facts in view, we shall
 be induced to believe, that either Dr. Thomson is a man of
 * ery uncommon talents, or that  his  system  has uncommon
 merits.
  A few remarks on Dr. Thomson's Theory of Disease, shall
 close this discourse.  He contends that all diseases  have one
 cause, and that cause is, a want of a proper portion of warmth
 in the system, to produce an equal and healthful action in all
 its parts.  When we look abroad and behold that great vari-
 ety of appearances which things  at different times assume.
 and also  that great number and variety of effects which  are
 produced in the world around us, we are naturally disposed to
 believe that all these are not effected  by one agent.  Effects
 so dissimilar in their appearance, men have been  induced  to
 believe could not be produced by the  same intelligent Being;
 and hence the number of Gods in  one  period of the world was
 multiplied to the enormous degree of 330,000.   But Divine
revelation and a more enlightened philosophy, unite in teach-
 ing us  that there is but one great First Cause  of all things.
 It is for the want of more accurate knowledge of the connec-
tions which exist in things, which has induced  mankind  to
imagine  that the number of causes is  equal to the number of
effects—whereas one cause may produce many effects, but so
different  in  their appearance that it has been thought they
could not all  be  produced  by one cause.   Could we see dis-
tinctly and follow understanding^, the chain which  links  to-
gether  every thing respecting human nature,  it would un-
doubtedly have a powerful tendency  to simplify theory.   It
would,  beyond all doubt, resolve many particular principles
into general  principles.  The great Newton, by discovering
the gravitation of matter, and by marking the spheres in which
the planets revolve, exploded a countless multitude of theories
and conjectures in natural  philosophy, which had been the
production of the studies of philosophers for centuries before.
And the immortal Bacon, by his comparatively immeasurable
 sagacity, saw clearly the endless false  distinctions in the sci-
 ences generally,  made by Aristottle  and others,  and taught
 the world a more useful and practical mode of philosophizing.
  The truth, fellow-citizens, concerning any subject, is im-
 portant,  and  when known, it is simple and easy to be under-
 stood; but false theory, conjecture, and technical  terms, having
 no place in the nature of things,  are  difficult to understand., 
33
 The creatures of the imagination, and not the creatures  of
 God, appear dark and intricate;  and when we imagine we see
 an hundred distinct objects, where we in reality see only one,
 exhibited in various points of light, with all its diversified ap-
 pearances—if we  should let  such a view of things have a
 practical influence, we  should undoubtedly be led into gross
 error.  Accurate discrimination is of vital importance in dis-
 covering  truth,  especially in  the science of medicine.  But
 who  does not know how endless are the theories of diseases,
 introduced into the world by the great leaders in physic ?  It
 is a plain  fact, fellow-citizens, that opinions the  most  con-
 tradictory, concerning the causes and remedies of disease, are
 advocated by physicians, from the most learned and profound
 authors down to the humblest  practitioners.  Does this look,
 fellow-citizens,  as though the healing art, according to the
 present established institutions, is based upon as rational and
 immovable a foundation, as that on which Newton  has placed
 natural philosophy ?  Or, does it not appear that physicians
 have  arrived at no  general principles in physic, which are suf-
 ficiently clear  to  produce uniformity among  themselves?
 They certainly have not.  With all their high pretensions
 tien,  to knowledge, are they entided to any other appellation
 than that of Quacks ?
   But shall we despair, fellow-citizens, of ever obtaining any
 general remedies of disease, or a knowledge of what consti-
 Uites  motion and life in animal bodies, sufficient to direct us
 with more certainty in the application of medicine ? We ought
 surely never despair of obtaining more accurate knowledge
 on both of these subjects.  We  may receive it as a self-evident
 truth, that the God of Nature  has provided better means for
 curing disease than those used  by regular physicians.  If he
 has not, an imputation of malevolence might be brought  to
 bear upon his character:  and if he has provided better mean?
 to cure disease, why is not Dr. Thomson as likely to obtain a
 knowledge  of them as any other  man?  He was born in a
 country which has produced as great men as the world  ever
 knew, and  he  has pursued that manner of  life which  good
 reason,  in  our opinion,  dictated,  in  order to render a  man
 eligible to obtain such knowledge.   He comes forth to the
 world laboring under every embarrassment, which every thing
 else but a  good  cause and a  good  conscience could create,
 affirming  that he  has made the desired discovery—and he
demonstrates the truth of his affirmation by practice, the sure
test of all  theory. 
34
   Dr. Thomson's discoveries have a tendency to simplify the
 theory and practice of medicine—to have all  the  great dis-
 coveries in that branch of knowledge in which they were
 made.   Discoveries  in  other sciences have taught the world
  hat there is but one object, where mankind had before im-
 agined there were thousands.  Dr. Thomson, by discovering
 shat all diseases have one cause, and that they differ in degree
 and location only, has, in our opinion, shown clearly that the
 endless distinctions and  names given to diseases, are unlearn-
  d and unphilosophical.  He has taught that there is but one
 object, where  others had  imagined  there were multitudes.
 By seeing the connection in things, he learned that truth tend-
 ed to simplify, but falsehood to  complicate theory.   It is,
 fellow-citizens,  a well known fact, that all the discoveries in
 the arts have had a great influence to simplify, while some
 have come forward to the world laying claim  to the high hon-
 or of discoveries, but possessing no merit, except what may
 ')e claimed by false speculation and technical terms.
   Although Dr. Thomson  has asserted, and pretty clearly
 proved, that all diseases  arise in consequence of cold or a loss
 of heat in the system, still  he does not say but that the heat
 may escape the body by various causes.  But he contends,
 that no cause can produce disease  until it has diminished the
 heat in the system.   Dr. Thomson maintains, that heat is
 animal life, or the cause of it.  Learned doctors are not agreed
 'vliether it is heat or cold, or either of them.
   Dr. Thomson's views of diseases and practice of medicine is
 conformable to  this sentiment, that one man has but one life,
 and that in disease there is  a sympathy in every part of the
 system.  Learned doctors views of diseases  and practice of
 medicine, would seem to indicate that there were several lives
 in one man, each of which exists  independent of the other.
 and that in disease there  is no sympathy between the parts oi"
 the system.
  Dr. Thomson administers medicine upon a regular system.
Learned doctors have no system at all.   Dr. Thomson's the-
ory shows that the material world  is kept in motion by one
agent, and that  there is a mighty connection between all  the
works of God.   Learned doctors tell us nothing about the
first moving cause. 
3J
LECTURE III.
  IN my first Lecture, I endeavored to show the nature and
tendency of a correct knowledge of the proper uses of things.
which Providence  has provided to  advance our happiness:
2d, I mentioned some of the barriers to our obtaining that
knowledge.  In my second Lecture, I considered briefly, 1st.
what it is to make a discovery in the latent things of nature:
Id, what qualifications a man  ought to possess, in order to
render him eligible to make a discovery; 3d, I noticed Dr.
Thomson and some of the features of his medical discoveries.
At the close of this last discourse I made a very general state-
ment of Dr. Thomson's Theory of Disease, without producing
any of the evidences of its truth, which did  appear to him
and to  many others,  to amount to  demonstration.  I then
promised you, that in my next, those proofs should be produ-
ced.  The business, therefore,  of the present Lecture, shall
be to advance those evidences.
  I feel, fellow-citizens, while advocating the vegetable prac
tice and Thomson's theory, that I am performing a work for
which posterity will thank me, although I should receive  no-
thing better than  neglect and obloquy from the  present  age-
Firmly believing  as  I do, in the unrivalled efficacy of the
vegetable practice  of medicine, and in the truth and  great
utility of Dr. Thomson's discovery,  1 cannot for a moment
endure the thought that the great and inestimable good which
would  result to posterity from  their prevalence,  should  be
prevented, and they both sent into oblivion, by  the fury ami
selfish zeal of the present established medical institutions.  It
has occurred to me, that man never  acts more  indicative of
his  rationality and  benevolence, than when he acts for the
good of those who will live after he is dead.  I can truly say,
that my anxiety to save an  important discovery and salutary
practice of medicine, from that destruction to which it appear.-
obnoxious, from the persecutions of a privileged and legalized
institution, has had no secondary influence  in inducing me to
engage in this cause, and endeavor to secure their promiuen*
advantages to posterity.
  When I turn a prospective eye forward, over the long con-
tinued succession of rising  generations, the dim appearauce, 
36
of unborn nations passes in solemn review before me; and
each, by every sympathy which binds man to man,  implores
us to be steadfast and immovable in this cause.   It is the dol-
orous voice of suffering humanity, which we have heard aris«
ingfrom town and country, cottage and palace, that stimulates
us to action; and though the cry is  not directed to us, for it
knows us not, still we hear it, as though directed to us, for we
believe we have a knowledge of that for which  it languishes,
and  we are determined, let whatever  barrier superstition  or
selfishness may throw in our way, to promulgate that knowl-
edge.  For we have witnessed and we have felt the sufferings
incident to our race,  from sickness; and we have seen, and
experienced too, how unavailing the  efforts of the  popular
institutions are, in relieving those sufferings.
  We  have in a small degree made an  estimate  of the miserv
of this world, caused by perversion of our temporal blessings.
We have seen the young and the «ged, at equal  distance from
the grave, and the former hastening towards "that bourne from
whence no traveller ever returns,"  with as rapid a flight  as
the latter. We have seen the promising and talented student:
arrested in his career, while attempting to climb the hill  of
science, and compelled to drag out a miserable  existence un-
der the influence of a chronic disease; and we have seen him,
while stung with  the keen remembrance of disappointment in
pursuit, going from  one physician to  another,  to obtain, if
possible, a healing balm for his disease : but this balm he has
not found.  We have seen pious and zealous clergymen and
studious and benevolent physicians,  languish and die, when
we thought, and  indeed had good evidence to believe, that a
different mode of treatment from  what  they received, might
have saved them and the benefit of  their labors to mankind.
And  we have seen too, the literati and philosopher diverted
from accomplishing their  godlike designs, leaving the world
to mourn their premature departure.   We have seen  (we are
sorry to be compelled to say it) the poor, and even the widow
and  fatherless, obliged to hand over,  as it were, their last
morsel to an opulent practitioner, for  that  from which they
had received no benefit.
  Now, we do not pretend, fellow-citizens, that we have found
a remedy for all those evils.  Amelioration is all that we ex-
pect  by a  medicinal reform.  And again, we are induced to
be engaged in this cause on another  account.  A great man,
fellow-citizens, has  arisen from among us, and has  made i 
37
great and important discovery in the science of medicine, anu
he has thus far received but little else thau persecution, from
the present ago.   A great man, and a great benefactor of his
species, a man of whom the nation  will hereafter boast, is a
going to live and die amongst us, unnoticed and unhonored.
  There is no mistake here,  fellow-citizens, for r»j age wil!
come, in which the name of Thomson, will be lets conspicu-
ous, than in the present.  He  has, as we remarked in our pre
ceding Lecture, conferred substantial benefits  u -on man; and
man will always remember him.  Now, that such a man should
be unappreciated by his cotemporaries, argues either a shame-
ful want of discernment, or undue prejudice  excited against
him, by existing institutions; and, that the name of Thomson,
should go down to posterity, with an attempt from the pres
ent age to extinguish from among men  both his discovery,
and the remembrance of his name, will appear a matter of no
small  importance to every one who regards the character of
the present generation, and who appreciates the worth of his
labors.  For, if the future age should receive his character from
the present, loaded with slander, it will, nevertheless, place u.
due estimate upon that practice of medicine which he origin-
ated amidst the persecution and calumny of the present gen-
oration; and  they will do justice  to  his  name,  and to  his
medical discovery, and then how tremendous will be the re-
action of an imputation of disgrace upon his persecutors !
  It is not only to arouse the nation  to a sense of the pre-em
inent utility of the vegetable practice of medicine, for which
we labor, but to save also, or prevent that disgrace, which must.,
if not by some means prevented, rest upon the medical estab-
lishment, in consequence of its  treatment of Dr. Thomson-
Justice,  fellow-citizens,  and  a practical  conviction  of real
worth, will not always slumber; and when human nature is
once awakened to  redress the wrongs of an individual, its
movements are without measure, and without control.—Hav-
ing completed my  introductory remarks, I will proceed to the
business of this Lecture.
  According to a previous promise, fellow citizens, you have
a right to expect a statement of Dr. Thomson's theory, and
the evidences of its truth.  Dr. Thompson's theory is this,
that all diseases have one general cause, and that cause is a
diminution or an  unequal distribution of free caloric in the
system.  Let the remote causes of diseases be what they may,
it is quite evident to me, and  I hope I shall be able to make
                             4 
38
it appear so to all,  that the approximate cause is what Dr.
Thomson has  stated.  The  remote causes of diseases, are
undoubtedly very numerous and various, but the remote cause
never will produce disease until it has produced the  approx-
imate cause, or in other words, a cold will not produce a fever
until it has produced an unequal distribution of  free  caloric.
The same may be said with respect to other causes of disease,
such as contagions of different kinds, and indigestible food
remaining in the stomach, and so producing obstructions, and
causing disease.  Hurts and bruises  and  the like, cause dis-
ease also ; but none of them  will produce disease in the sys-
tem generally, until they have effected an unequal distribution
of free caloric.   For so long as there is an equal distribution
of free caloric in the system, there will be also an equal action
in the circulatory system ; and so long as there  is an equal
action in this system, the  perspiration will be  free; and when
the circulation  is equal, and the perspiration free, and the di-
gestion good, the man must be in good health.  And these
vital and natural functions are performed by a proper portion
and equal distribution of free caloric throughout the whole
system.  It  is  readily  acknowledged by me, and 1 presume
would be by Dr. Thompson, that the heat may be, and un-
questionably is, diminished  and disturbed  by numerous and
various causes.   But the question is, whether these causes can
produce obstructions  and disease, until they have diminished
and disturbed the free caloric, and whether an unequal distri-
bution of this caloric can take place without its diminution.
These are questions, undoubtedly, of much importance, and
they require much patient thought to answer them correctly.
  We think the former, however, much less difficult to answer
than the latter, for it is an obvious  fact, the truth of which
may be clearly  seen and demonstrated from daily experience,
that caloric has as powerful a tendency to produce action in
organic life, as  on inanimate  substances.  For indeed, with-
out caloric, there would be no other than inanimate substances.
And so, on the contrary, where there is a due proportion of
caloric, no mechanical power  can prevent action.
  It is by an effort to prevent action in the particles of water
excited by a communication of caloric, that the steam engine
receives all its power.   The expansive nature of the fire com-
municated  to the water confined in the boiler swells it,  and
the water being thus compelled to pass off by vapour or steam,
is forced by the active and  powerful influence of  caloric, to 
39
 pass through a small tube with almost inconceivable power.
 But I need not spend  much time to prove to  you the active
 tendency of  caloric on material matter.  But the questions
 are, whether any cause can produce disease  until it has dis-
 turbed  the heat in the system, and whether the heat is ever
 disturbed without its diminution.  But before  these questions
 can be answered, we must consider the very important agency
 of caloric in producing and continuing organic life.   It is mv
 design, fellow-citizens, to show that free caloric, or heat, is the
 cause of life and  motion in the animal, and in the vegetable
 kingdoms, or, in other words, that fire is the first moving cause
 throughout animated  nature.
  In  the first place, fellow-citizens, cast your eyes upon the
 vegetable kingdom, and behold the earth, as it were, teeming
 with animation.  View the landscape covered with vegetation,
 both to delight the imagination, and to supply man and beast
 with food.  See the rivers and the rills flowing smoothly and
 gently,  within  their channels;  and  behold  even  the earth
 and the water begin to teem with animated being;  and e\en
 the stubborn oak, which  disdained to bend  before the nor-
 thern blast, obeys the call of nature, and dresses itself in green,
 to be an ornament to the forest.  But what has effected this
 pleasing, this wonderful change in nature.  Let a few short
months  pass  away, and  the earth  exhibits a very  different
 prospect.   Now the earth is bound in  icy fetters.   The frost
has withered the herbage of the field ;  the landscape recently
so beautiful, is  covered with snow,  and the fowls of heaven
 have taken their flight to a warmer clime.   What,  it may be
Rsked again, is the cause of this change.  The sun, fellow-cit-
izens, with  his  enlivening and warming rays  has withdrawn,
and the spirit of animation  which  it infused into the earth by
its heat, has escaped, and left the earth to coldness, inactivity
 and death.
  It needs  no process of reasoning, fellow-citizens,  to prove
 that heat is the cause  of life in the vegetable kingdom.  For,
would the corn ever grow were it not for the heat of the sun r
and would the leaves and  flowers of  the trees ever appear,
were it not for the return of Spring ?   Surely they would not.
You may put the seed into  the ground, and  you may water
it, but in vain do you look for the tender shoot  to appear with-
out heat.  Without this principle, the  snow would be eternal,,
 and the water would be forever retained in ice.
  Let the heat be diminished,  and inaction and death follow, 
40
 'ititlet it be increased, and  all nature will teem with life and
 k*eauty.  I trust there is not one individual present, who is not
 convinced of the truth of the proposition which I am engaged
 to  illustrate :  I will not say to  prove, for it needs not argu-
 ment to arrive at its truth, but observation.
   2d.  We arc told by philosophers and naturalists, that there
 is a connexion between the vegetable and animal kingdoms,
 and that from  the most insensible  plant, there is a gradual
 ascent up to rational man.  That is, the most sensitive plant
 approximates so near to  some of the  lower species of animals.
 such as the polypus, that it is very  difficult to describe any
 very general distinction  between them.   That the  vegetable
 kingdom arises in activity and apparent life  so as to form up-
 on  the animal kingdom, in one continued chain of being.
 That the link  which connects the two, is no longer than that
 which joins different species of one genus.  And what  has
 been remarked with  respect to vegetables and  animals,  has
 also been observed of animals and man.
  That the most sagacious of beasts approach in rationality
 so near to the most wild and untutored of our species, that the
 distinction between them is not so conspicuous, as  that be-
 tween some men and some beasts.  Now it would seem, if the
 connexion between vegetables and animals be what  natural-
 ists have told us, that analogy would require that they both
 should be kept in motion by one exciting cause.   If there is
 'i similarity in  the  circulating fluids, and if either of them
 would die when it stops, it is but reasonable to believe, that
 die same propelling power moves the one that does  the other.
 And would the sap ever  circulate through the pores of wood,
 were it not for  the influence of heat  ?  Surely it would not.
 \nd would  the blood circulate through the arteries and veins
 of the human system,  without the influence  of the same ele-
 ment ?  I think the answer to this question  is as obvious as
 that of the first.  Vegetables obtain their support immediate-
 ly from the earth ; man obtains his from  vegetables.   But
 vegetables  would not grow from the'earth, were it not for
heat, and vegetables would not sustain animal life, were  it not
(or heat.   You may plant the seed in a fruitful spot of earth,
and you may water it, but it will not grow without heat.  And
is it not so with animals ? You may  place them in  a country
 where the air is healthy,  and you may keep them on the most
 nutritious food, but without  caloric they would languish and
 die.  When the pores in wood are so destroyed as to proven< 
41
 the circulation of sap, it decays; when the circulatory system
 of animals is destroyed, the heat escapes, and the animal dies.
 A suitable quantity of caloric to animate the whole system, is
 as necessary to the  proper digestion of our food, as it is to
 enable the roots of vegetables to suck their nourishment from
 the ground.   The  means provided to  sustain vegetable life
 would be unavailing without fire, and so would those provided
 to sustain animal life.   We see, in the hot season of the year,
 the earth as it were converted into insects and plants, the for-
 mer apparently without a parent, and the latter without a seed,
 I say apparently, for I do not pietend to  affirm that such is the
 fact.  My present object does not demand any discussion of
 that subject.   Neither  does  it require  me even to give my
 sentiments on that  point.   It is only necessary for me to re-
 mark that heat has a direct  tendency to multiply them both
 in an astonishing degree.  And  its influence is as  direct to
 increase the one as the other.   We see, too, that the approach
 of winter is as fatal  to the life of the one as the other.   Hence
 we conclude, that heat  is  equally the life and  motion  in the
 one as  in the other.  These things, fellow-citizens, we have
 all learned from observation.  But we  shall dwell no  longer
 on this  part of the subject.
   We shall, thirdly, show more directly, that free caloric is the
 first moving cause of organic life.  It may be said with truth.
 that the Supreme Being is the great first cause of all action in
 the animate and  inanimate world, but  still he moves them
 both by means, and we  know as  little of the innate  nature ol
 many of the  means, as  of himself.  Who can tell whatsjyjs.
 only by its effects ?   And who can tell  what invisible beings
 are, only by their actions ?  Our knowledge of the greatcau-
 ses of action in the natural and  moral  world, is obtained by
 marking  their effects.  We  see a multitude of actions and
 changes produced  in the  vegetable and animal kingdoms,
 and we behold great and mighty changes in  the earth, and
 skies, but the agent which produces all these, acts invisibly to
 us.  We can witness the growth of trees and plants, and we
 can see  men and beasts  walk and exhibit clear proofs oftheii
 activity ;  and we  can behold the horizon begin to  thicken,
 and the air begin  to darken with the rising tempest: but the
efficient cause  of all these great works, acts behind the cur-
tain.  It is I think a very clear point, that material matter, in
all the actions of which  it can be the subject, is passive.  By
material matter, I mean  earth, water, and all those substances
                             4* 
42
accessary to the support of animal and vegetable life.  But
 hose materials without that spirit of animation which caloric
diffuses through  nature, would remain forever inactive, inas-
much as the body without the spirit is dead, so  is the earth
without fire.  And it is a question unsettled yet, whether ca-
loric be a distinct substance of itself, or whether it be only an
attribute of matter ; whether it be a subtle fluid or gas, pene-
trating into, and descending from all bodies, or whether it be
only an attribute of matter, and brought forth  by  friction.
The great point with us, as physicians, is, to know what prin-
ciples are  active, and  what passive, in animal motion. The
nature  of the active power, and the nature of that on which
h is exerted.  For there must be such an agent as active pow-
jt, and this active power acts on material  substances.  It is
necessary for the physician to have correct views of the active
power,  for in diseases the active  power is weakened and di-
minished by inanimate matter, and it must be assisted to put
matter in proper motion.   This active power I shall call free
caloric, and the substance on which it acts, animal bodies, or
she human system.
  Let  us for a moment, take a cursory survey of the human
system.  We see it is composed of bones to sustain the weight
of the body, and to defend the vital organs of life, and to give
:mape and strength to the whole system.  The bones are tied
together by muscles and ligaments, and clothed with flesh.
Internally, there is the stomach to receive our food, and liver
to secrete  bile  for its  proper digestion ; and the alimentary
duct* with its numerous vessels to suck up the nutriment con-
tained  in our food, and to impart life and vigor to the whole
system. And these are the two glands that separate the urine
from the blood, and the urinary bladder in which it is depos-
ed for emission.   The lungs are two viscera, situated in the
chest, by means of which we breathe, and it is supposed the
blood receives oxigen from the air, while passing through
 those organs.  The heart is a hollow,  muscular viscus, situa-
 ted near the  pericardium, for  the  circulation of the blood.
The heart  is the  great centre of the circulatory  system.
Through the medium of arteries and corresponding veins, the
blood is conveyed  to  every part of the body.  The nerves
have their origin in the brain, and  in the spinal marrow ; all
 the parts of the  human body  are composed of a porous sub-
 stance, through which a fluid, or animal juice, is constantly
 flowing.  But all  these organs may be properly arranged in 
43
 an  animal without life.  If we examine the bones,  we can
 discover nothing in  them  but inanimate substance.   They
 appear to be totally destitute of any active power inherent in
 themselves.  And what has been said of the bones, may with
 equal  truth be said of the muscles, ligaments and  glands.
 A.11 these seem in themselves to be deprived of that visincita.
 necessary to  muscular motion in man.  They have  no  mo-
 tion only as they are acted upon.  All the action of which
 they are the subjects, is caused  by some other agent.  If we
 investigate the alimentary canal, we can discover nothing in
 the absorbent  vessels,  why they should be active, why they
 should absorb  the nutriment  from  what we receive into the
 stomach.
  It is very evident, that something must put these in action,
 independent of themselves.  Nor can we be persuaded to be-
 lieve that the substance of the lungs contains any active pow-
 er, which enables us to  breathe : for, when the animal is dead,
 although the lungs should be sound, there is surely no respir-
 ation.   When the spirit of animation has fled,  all the vital
 actions at once cease.  Why, it may be asked, does the blood
 circulate? In its motion does it obey the laws of gravitation?
 Surely not—neither is  it excited to action  by any chemical
 power; and still the blood flows through  the arteries  and
 veins of the system, with regularity and speed.
  What, in animal bodies, is the cause of motion ? On exam-
 ining them we find they are composed of various mineral  sub-
stances, gasses and water.   But those substances have no life
 in themselves.   The mineral or vegetable substance may and
 unquestionably does exist in animal bodies without life.  It
cannot be true that matter possesses the power of action with-
 in itself; or, in other words, matter is not self-excited to ac-
 tion.   But in living animal bodies, there is action in material
 substance.  What, it may be asked, produces this  action ?
 Does the water in the system  produce it? Water, to be sure,
produces action  by its  gravity;  but no one will pretend  that
the  animal functions  are  maintained  by the gravitation of
 water—for water is as dependent, on some agent or cause for
its action, as any other  substance.—It may be imagined, how-
 ever, that, although earth and water should be found to  pos-
sess  no self-moving power,  that animal gas does.  But  this
gas, or air, is found in  the dead as well as in the living body.
 It cannot, therefore,  be the first cause of vital action in man
  Well,  if matter contains  no self-determining power, and i' 
•IT
 he animal fuuctions are not maintained by the gravity of wa»
 fer, nor the active tendency of gas, where shall we look next
 for the cause of action in organic life? Add fire to the system,
 and all will be well; add fire to the animal economy, and all
 its functions will be  regularly discharged.  Then the expand-
 ing lungs will immediately inhale the vital air, and the heart
 begin  to beat;—then  the  crimson liquid will begin to  flow
 through the arteries and veins of the system, and the water
 and the gas be excited to action, and begin to pass off by in-
 sensible perspiration.   Now the nervous system is aroused into
 action, and the sensorial fluid  equally distributed, to  impart
 feeling to every part of the body.  Let free caloric  have an
 equal residence in every part of the human body,  and  the di-
 gestion will be good; then the absorbent system will  be excit-
 ed to a healthful action, and the vitiated  fluid emitted from
 the body, and solids purified and rendered healthful.  Then
 the pale, emaciated appearance of decline will be changed to
 beauty and strength; then the countenance will glow with
 the lustre of beauty and youth;  then an irritable and petulent
 disposition  will  be guarded and supported  by a well  braced
 nervous  system; then a weak  and irresolute determination
 will be rendered irrevocable by a vigorous and elastic muscu-
 lar action.
  Add fire to the system, and this most  wonderful and curi-
 ous of all machines, (the human body)   will be in complete
 operation.  Let there be an equal distribution of free  caloric
 in all its parts, and this harp often thousand strings will be in
 complete tune; but if you diminish the  heat in any degree,
 there will be immediately heard discordant notes.   Diminish
it to a  certain degree, and the harp is mute.  Then the dilat-
ing lungs and the beating heart cease to act, and the crimson
 flood ceases to flow.
  It appears quite evident to me, that were we to search the
 whole  animal and vegetable economy, and with the  most ac-
 curate  discrimination, in quest of the first cause of action, if
heat  be absent we should search in vain.   Why fire  is  active,
I do not  pretend  to say.   It is sufficient for my purpose  to
know that it is so.   No one will, I presume, deny this.  What
fire is,  separate from its effects, I do not pretend to  explain :
but such appears to be the present organization of things, that
where  earth, water and atmospherical air, accompanied with
a due proportion of heat, are found,  vegetables will grow—
and where these grow, are found animals  and men. 
45
   You will readily perceive, fellow-citizens, from the preced-
 ing remarks, that it is our belief, that heat is the cause of life
 and motion in the human system.  To prove this, it seems on-
 ly necessary to remark, that the dead body has every thing
 the living one has, except free caloric.  In the dead body
 there is the animal and the vegetable substances, and there is
 the water and  the  air,  but no active heat is to be discovered.
 Hence we conclude, that the substantial difference  between a
 live animal and a dead one is, that the dead one  has lost that
 temperature of heat necessary to keep up the vital functions
 of the animal economy, which the living one possesses.
  Lest any one should say that we simplify in too great a de-
 gree,  animal life,  and the theory of disease, I remark, that
 the heat in the system is supplied through the medium of the
 lungs, and by the various and numerous action of the animal
economy; and these actions,  by which heat is maintained in
 the system,  are performed by the influence of free caloric on
 the solids and fluids of the body.
  Now, when the solids or vessels, and organs of the system
 become so far destroyed, as to be unable to retain the heat, no
 medicine on earth can save  the life of the patient.   Such is
 the case  in  pulmonary consumption,  when one lobe of the
lungs is gone,  and  in almost all cases of gangrene.   Some
 times the whole system is so debilitated and apparently de-
 stroyed, as to render it extremely difficult to raise and contin-
 ue that heat in the system, on which health is depending.   A
 continuation of free caloric in the system depends in a great
 measure, on the state of  the  solids.   The solids may be so
injured as to cause the heat to go out, or escape, by numerous
avenues: but  they cannot be rendered healthy, except with
such means as are directly designed to produce action on them.
 There are no  means hitherto  discovered, which appear to
 have this tendency, except those which  tend to increase  the
 heat in the system ;—for heat is, in an astonishing degree,
penetrating, and is as active and purifying as it is penetrating
and powerful.   Raise the heat  in  the system to  a  suitable
temperature, and the solids will immediately be put in  motion;
then the wind which caused disease in  the viscera, is expelled,
and the water, which was before extinguishing the vital spark,
is thrown off by perspiration.   The viscid matter then, which
had collected on the stomach and intestines, and contaminat-
ed the blood,  and indeed all the fluids of the body, is com-
pelled to pass off, by some of the natural evacuations of the 
AG
animal economy.  Then that acrimonious acid, which accu-
mulates in the system by a want of action, caused by a want
of heat sufficient  to move  the obstructions, will either be
neutralized or emitted from the system, and so be prevented
from producing canker,  indigestion,  and  the whole train of
nervous affections, connected with dyspepsia.
  But it is time to show, how disease is produced, by a dimi-
nution of free caloric in  the  system.   In doing this, you will
at once perceive from the preceding remarks, that it is not an
opinion with us, that fever is a disease, but that it is a  dis-
turbed state of the heat,  occasioned by the disease.
  Let us, for the sake of illustrating this point, suppose a case,
which perhaps we  have  all seen:—Let us suppose a case of
fever, in a man  of robust constitution—one who had arrived
at thirty years of age, and had never been the subject of a fit
of sickness during his life.   Antecedent to his illness  he had
been perhaps exposed to the inclemency of the weather, and
perhaps he had gone much  longer than usual without nutri-
ment, and his labor had  been such as to compel him to exert
too intensely the whole  muscular system.    This man comes
into the house, where the air is in a considerabe degree rarifi-
ed, and takes liis seat  by the fire, with his limbs chilled with
cold and worn out with fatigue.  But before the welcome in-
iluence of the fire restores comfort to the limbs and the exteri-
or of the system, he is seized with ague fits, which  appear to
iiim and to his friends to be ominous of future disease.  It is
then the unanimous voice of all, that the man has taken cold,
and unless it can be thrown off it will throw him into  a fever.
To do this, the anxious friends try, if possible, to produce
perspiration ;  but they are unsuccessful in  their efforts.  The
cold  chills  continue, until the external  appearance shows
clearly that the fatal malady has commenced its direful effects
on the interior of the system :—For, now the skin is intensely
hot and dry, the pores are closed, the tongue is immediately
coated, and the mouth and throat are parched and cankered—
the man is  confined to his room, and laid prostrate  upon a
bed of  languishing.
  Approach and behold him, fellow-citizens, with solemnity,
lor it is the chamber of death !  It is the last earthly emporium
of an immortal spirit!  See one taken from the concerns of
life and activity, and thrown upon the bed of death, with a
mortal disease collecting around his vitals!  See how that, in
exact proportion as the disease approaches to its fatal crisis. 
47
the heat is extinguished, until the last vital spark goes out in
death !
   At the commencement of the disease, the doctor  is called.
He ascertains in the first place, the cause, and then the con-
stitution of the patient, and after he has made  the usual in-
quiry,  he learns that he is a man of strong nature, and has
never been much sick before.   The physician then proceeds
critically to examine his pulse, his tongue, and his skin.  The
first is very hard and frequent—the second  appears dry and
coated—and  the third  very hot.  He immediately commen-
ces a course of treatment, with the following sentiments deeply
rooted in his  mind, full in view—1st. That he is a  man of a
strong constitution, and that such an one is more likely to sink
under this disease than any other.   2d. It is the first attack
the man ever had, and this is an  inauspicious circumstance.
3d. The apparent increased heat in the system is the disease.
4th. In order to produce a cure the heat must be destroyed.
   His  treatment in this case, will be the practical part of the
above theory ;  and hence, he will use the most  powerful and
refrigerant means in  his knowledge.  His aim is the destruc-
tion of the heat, which he believes to be the disease.   He  in
the first place throws in the lancet and draws copiously from
the crimson fountain, to  reduce  the arterial action; in the
next place he uses a  very poisonous mineral for an emetic,
which, to be  sure, may dislodge the contents of  the stomach,
but like other minerals, it  has no direct tendency to stimulate
any part of the system to action,  only as it has a direct ten-
dency to destroy animal life—and when they are taken into
the stomach,  they produce action  only  by arousing the ener-
gies of  the system to resist their deleterious effects.  In this
way, it may be said, they stimulate the system ; but they stim-
ulate to destro}r.
   It has been frequently said, that every article which operates
as an emetic  or cathartic,  contains some poison ; but to this it
may be replied, that there are medicines which will operate
as emetics and cathartics, and if  the same should be applied!
for an external  application, it would prove itself to be,  by  its
effects,  in  a high degree,  cleansing and healing to the flesh.
Would they produce those  effects were  they poison?  They
surely would  not.  But will antimony and mercury  have sim-
ilar effects, when applied in  a similar manner?  It is well
known they will not; they can neither of them be used exter-
nally, without producing the greatest irritation.   But I must
proceed. 
48
   Now,  all these violent means he uses in an increased de<
 gree, because the fever  seems high and the man has a good
 constitution.  He believes he must conquer the fever, or the
 fever will the patient.  Hence he resorts again to his deptitive
 means, and by each repetition of them he diminishes the heat,
 and by each diminution of the heat, the patient is advanced,
 step by step, towards the grave.
   Those means are continued,  until the fatal end  is accom-
 plished.  At last, the heat gives way, and  great debility fol-
 lows.  A deathly chill begins to creep to the extremities.   A.
 cold, clammy sweat, appears on the forehead.  The small
 remains of heat,  like the blaze of an expiring lamp, gathers
 around the vitals, and then trembles only to go out.  The
 free caloric continues to escape, and the  cold approaches near-
 er and nearer the seat of life.  INow the eyes are set, the sur-
 rounding parts being stiffened by the cold;  the blood is clot-
 ted in the arteries and veins, and the man is no more.  He is
 dead—he is cold.
   The fever, to be sure, is destroyed,  but the man and the
 fever (or heat) both go together;—for, when the heat is gone.
 the cause of action is gone, and the body  is a lifeless lump
 of clay.
   It may be useful, as well as interesting to us, to spend a few
 moments in examining the nature and  the cause of the dis-
 ease we have been contemplating, and  also  the propriety of
 its treatment.  In the first place, let us notice its cause,  and
 how it produced its effects on the system.  We have already
 remarked, however, that it was cold that produced the fever
 in the case we have mentioned.   But this disease is sometimes
 brought on by other causes, such as contagions, and indiges-
 tible food-remaining  in  the stomach;  or, indeed,  whatever
tends to diminish the heat of the body, will cause a fever, and
other diseases of the same class ; or when  there are obstruc-
 tions in the bowels, an equal distribution  of free caloric cannot
take place, because  obstructions in any part of the system,
 immediately disturb the heat, and so produce disease in the
 system generally by sympathy.  When by  some  cause  or
 other, the gastric juice of the stomach is  destroyed or contam-
inated, or when there are in the gall ducts some obstructions,
 or when the liver is diseased, and a want  of a proper  secretion
 of bile to promote digestion, the food will remain in the stom-
 ach, producing a diseased action of all the vessels through the
 whole length of the alimentary canal.   Now, this state of the 
49
 vessels will tend to inactivity, or a diminution of internal free
 caloric, and so soon as this takes place, there will always be
 an accumulation of diseased fluid, and this will produce what
 are called billious, typhus and putrid fevers.  But the case we
 mentioned, was caused by a sudden cold, or a sudden loss of
 heat.   To be exposed to the inclemency of a stormy winter's
 day, and to go destitute of our regular meals, and over-act the
 system by hard labor, have a direct tendency to diminish  the
 animal heat of the system.
   The preceding causes no one will deny  have  frequently
 given  rise  to fevers and other acute  diseases.  But in what
 way, it may be asked, do those causes produce disease? Their
 natural tendency  is surely to decrease the free  caloric.   If
 any one should contend that they do net have this influence,
 he would reason as absurdly as he who should endeavor to
 prove, that if the windows aud doors of this room  should be
 thrown open, and the stove filled with ice, the temperature
 would not be lowered.  The vital actions of the animal body,
 to be sure, conspire to maintain a proper degree of heat above
 the surrounding atmosphere.  And on this account an equi-
 librium of heat will take place much sooner in inanimate sub-
 stances, than in the living animal body.  For, heat is gener-
 ated in the system by friction, by a discharge of the vital
 functions, and this tends to prevent an equilibrium.  But those
 vital functions are dependent upon some other agent besides
 themselves, for their  power to act.   And when that stimula-
 tion necessary  to their activity ceases to be given, they, of
 course, cease to act, and then  an equilibrium  immediately
 takes place, and the  animal is left lifeless.  This stimulation
 may be destroyed by over action or fasting, or we may remain
 exposed to a cold atmosphere till an equilibrium takes place,
 or indeed,  in any way that proves an  outlet to human life.
 Taking this view of the subject, we see that action produces
 heat, and then  again  heat produces action.  Perhaps some
 here may be so curious as to enquire, which had an existence
 first, heat or action ?   This is, it may be thought by some, a
 difficult question to answer.  In the vegetable kingdom, how-
 ever, it is evident that heat has an existence first.  For, should
the warmth of summer never return, there surely never would
be any action in the vegetable kingdom.
  But man is thrown into a state of existence, with both heat
and action.  Tliey  both commence  with his existence, and
end only with his existence.  It appears to me, however, to
                            5 
00
be  clear proof, that fire is the first moving cause in organic
life, from the fact, that if we lower the temperature of heat.
in the  system, we diminish the action ; if we  raise it, we in-
crease  the action.  When there is no heat at all, there is no
action  at all.   When there is  an  equal distribution of free
caloric throughout the system, there is an equal, and of course,
a healthy action throughout the system.  But we must return
to the subject under consideration.
  The man, we have already  remarked, had taken cold, had
been chilled by the cold for considerable time.   The temper-
ature of the air with which he had been  surrounded, would
naturally produce an equilibrium in the extremities, and, in-
deed, on the whole surface of the body ;  for those parts would
be more exposed to the cold, than any other.  Now, the in-
tluence which the cold had in  the above mentioned case was.
to produce a stagnation of the circulatory fluids.   The blood
in the  extremities, and on the exterior of the system, had be-
come inactive, in consequence of the cold.   We know that it,
as that influence.  No one  who understands the  suhject, or
who understands himself, will deny this.  Now, the man, with
those effects produced on the system by the influence of co!d;
comes into the house,  where the  air  is in a considerable de-
gree warmed and rarified, and  takes his seat by the fire.   The
heat in the room  immediately  excites action in the vessels of
the extremities.   The blood,  which  before was  stagnated,
is now  directly put in motion, and the blood which had been
chilled with cold, and weakened by hunger, and perhaps con-
taminated by disease, is thereby  thrown  from the  exterior
vessels upon the interior, so as to give rise to the ague fits.
And this bolod, as it is thrown from the heart, causes the cold
chills to be very  general throughout the system.   The ague
fit  sometimes  continues two or three hours, and is generally
succeeded  by  a high fever.   Then the cold  has gained the
ascendancy, and heat is driven from the throne of life to the
surface, and this diseased fluid when thrown from the exterior
vessels to the interior, not only causes the  heat to escape, but
it also paralyzes the action of all the secretions and exertions
of the system.  Now the fever rages tremendously on the skin.
The perspiration is checked.  The gastric juice of the stom-
ach being  destroyed, the digestion is suspended.  In short,
this great loss of heat in the system, produces a torpor in the
stomach, bowels and  liver, and in all the pores of the body.
Then that fluid which is  secreted from the blood, and thrown 
51
off by insensible perspiration, is  retained in  the  system.
The  pores  being closed,  and the water  retained, and the
 tomf»ch  and bowels being torpid, of course all  the action is
thrown upon the arterial system.  Hence the larger vessels
appear crowded and distended with blood, and hence the arte-
rial action is greatly increased; the pulse is hard and frequent
   We have remarked that  cold had  produced  inaction, 01
contracted the whole absorbent  system.   We all  very  wel
know that  cold  has this  tendency on  material substances
When iron is red hot, if it should be cooled suddenly, it pro-
duces a sensible contraction.  It is so with  other substances.
It is the cold, and not the  heat or fever, which produces the
contraction  in the absorbents, and  so  prevents perspiration:
for, it is the  very nature of fire to  make water volatile, and
when the water and cold prevail within, the fire will be driven
to the surface.  But when the fire is predominant, the watei
will flow from the system by perspiration.  It is evident, how-
ever, when the action is thus thrown upon the arterial  system
there is an increased heat created by an increased arterial ac-
tion, and by frequent oxidations of the blood in  the lungs
But this heat is an effort of nature to overcome the cold, rath-
er than a disease ; for, if there was no disposition in the anima1!
economy to resist the effects of disease, in vain should  we evei
attempt the  healing art.
   But we need not despair  on this ground, for nature has pro-
vided many outlets to disease, and uniformly makes efforts to
free the system of it, and will always consent to be  assisted in
:ill cases.  Now, when the excitement  is thus produced in tin
arterial system, there immediately commences a conflict be-
tween nature and disease.   Free caloric is created in the ar
terial system by  action; canker and  death in the stoirach
and bowels by the cold ; and the physician will promote life
or death in proportion as lie assists one or the  other.   For, if
he should assist  the cold, or in other words, if his medicine
should  have a tendency to lower  the  temperature of heat.
then the torpor will be  increased, and the obstructions render
ed more difficult to remove.  Bearing in  mind this great and
important truth,  that free caloric is the cause of action, surelj
when it is diminished,  we shall see inaction to be  the conse
quence.  When   the arterial action is greatly increased, wt
are not to imagine that all the functions are excited  also
This  evidently is not  the  case, for whenever there is an in-
creased action in one part of the system, we may be assured 
D2
 there is a diminished action in another.  It were  absurd to
 believe that the whole system is excited equally, and equall)
 in so.great a degree.  But the whole system may be, and fre-
 quently is, diseased;  but not by too much  equal action, nor
 too much free caloric, equally distributed through the system ;
 but by its  diminution, a part being destitute, and a part hav-
 ing too much.
   When animal and  vegetable substances are not in  action,
 they begin to decay.   In all diseases there is a want of action,
 or there are obstructions in some part of  the system.  This
 want of action in by far the  greater  number of diseases, is in
 the  stomach and bowels. Now, as soon as the heat escapes,
 and leaves the viscera  to inactivity,  a decay or canker  im-
 mediately  commences in those  parts.  And here you may
 see  how directly a diminution of heat leads to death.  Re-
 move the free caloric, and you destroy  the action.  Let the
 action be suspended, and the canker or a decay will prevail;
 and  as the fire continues to die  away gradually, torpor will
 keep pace with it, and as these continue to gain ground, the
 canker thrusts its deadly claws  deeper and deeper into  the
 system, until gangrene steps in and ends the scene.  Whereas,
 if you increase the heat, you will increase the action, and if
 you  increase the action, you will stay the progress  of the cank-
 er, and prevent mortification.
   But it  is  evident in the case we have  mentioned, that  the
 physician is deceived by outward appearances.   He sees  the.
 surface is hot, and  he thinks, therefore, an  accumulation of
 heat is the  disease.  And still, it seems not a little surprising
 that  he should think so.  He  knew the cause had been a vio-
 lent  cold, and the patient he knew, too, had been seized with
 ague fits.   How  then can  he believe  the  patient has too
 much heat ?  Because the skin is hot, and  the pulse are hard
 and quick :  surely he is led into the error by outward appear-
 ances.  When the patient had the cold chills, all were ready
 to acknowledge that cold was the difficulty, and that stimula-
ting  means would be proper, but within one or two hours af-
ter, when the disease has taken possession of the  seat of life,
and driven  the free caloric to the surface, then  refrigerants
must be given to destroy the heat.  When nature less  needs
assistance, it will  do to assist it; but when it needs it more, it
must be destroyed. But how is it that the disease is so changed
in so short a time ? Now, the difficulty is cold; and something
hot must be administered; one hour hence, the disease is heat. 
53
and something cooling must be administered.   How, I would
ask, is the cold, or the  effects  produced  by the  cold, in so
short a time wholly eradicated from  the system, without per-
spiration or any other natural evacuation, and the system so
highly surcharged with free caloric, if so be it is general ?  It
it should be said it is created by friction, and by frequent oxi-
dations of the blood; to this it is replied,  if the increased ar-
terial action  and the little more frequent oxedations of the
blood in so short a time, augment the free caloric to such an
enormous degree ; the  natural action of the system, and the
common oxidations of the blood, when a mar. is in good health,
would increase it in a few days so as to consume the musculai
flesh upon  the bones.  This, I  think, will appear  to all to be
conclusive  proof that the apparent increase of heat is not pro-
duced in this way.   We cannot perceive, for ourselves, how
the diminution of  heat in the system, has  any tendency to
increase it.
   It may be expected that  I should just sketch the treatment
that I should pursue in the case  I have mentioned.  The the-
ory I have held up to view, will suggest to  many  what treat-
ment I should pursue.   I should, however, in the first place,
raise  the internal heat with pure vegetable stimulus, until the
determining power were excited to the surface, so as to pro-
duce perspiration.   Then I would give medicine to remove
the obstructions  in the stomach and bowels, and the pores of
the skin.  And  then I  would give medicine to remove  the
canker from the system, and restore a good digestion, and this
is  all that is necessary to be done.
   It would be a  pleasing task to proceed and show how other
diseases are produced by a  diminution of free caloric, but our
present  limits will not  admit of it.   A few general remarks
shall  close the subject.  It is said that fever is an attendant
on all other diseases.   This is, beyond all doubt, the fact.
Now, if fever be a distinct disease of itself, it seems somewhat
singular that this disease should always attend all other disea-
ses.   If fever be a  distinct complaint, then a person never has
one disease at a  time, but must always have  two, for the dis-
ease called fever,  uniformly accompanies  all other diseases.
But this, fellow-citizens, cannot be the truth.  The fever is
not a disease, but  the effects of the disease, or a disturbed
state of the heat.  And what a striking proof of the truth of
this proposition, is this, that in all diseases there is some fever.
rT in all diseases there is a  diminution of the heat.
                            5* 
54
  Such, fellow-citizens, is a brief outline of Dr. Thomson's
theory of disease.  It shows that vegetables, and animals,
and men, live by the influence of one agent.  It has, you will
i>ee, a powerful tendency to simplify  the theory of disease.
Where  physicians  and  philosophers  before  supposed, and
■mdeavored  to show, that there were multitudes  of  causes
producing disease, Thomson has shown, and pretty clearly
demonstrated, that there is but one approximate cause of all
disorders ; and that is, as I have  already remarked, a diminu-
tion of free caloric in the  system.  It  must, I think, occur to
«-ou, fellow-citizens, that if this theory be correct, and its prac-
tice nature's assistant,  that of the popular and legalised insti-
tutions, must be in a high degree erroneous, and its practice
deleterious.
  If we are diametrically opposite to one another, concerning
the same proposition,  we cannot surely both be right.   Such
is the fact,  however,  respecting the  sentiments of mineral
and vegetable physicians, in  regard to the causes of disease.
If a disagreement be attended with no injurious practical re-
sults, it is of but little  importance whether  we think exactly
alike or not; but in this case it is not  so.  Here, any radical
disagreement is to be regarded in a momentous point of light:
it is fraught with  all the importance of human suffering and
human life.
  If free caloric actually be the cause of life  and  vigor in
animal bodies, then, surely,  the  physician who, by his prac-
tice, endeavors to destroy it—however good his intentions—
may be, in reality, destroying human life.  If heat, according
to Hyppocrates, be nature,  it is nature in sickness as well as
in health, and the doctor who endeavors to destroy it, destroys
the nature of the patient.
  It requires an acquaintance with the works of medical men
to form an accurate opinion of Dr. Thomson's discoveries.
We must acquaint ourselves  with the endless jargon  of the
common practice, before  we  can  fully  appreciate  his discove-
ries : we must grope in its darkness for a-while, and try by its
dim  twilight to penetrate and explore the dark caverns of the
animal economy, before  we can appreciate the transcendent
light which  Dr. Thomson's discovery is destined to shed upon
the philosophical world.  We must contemplate every com-
plaint to which doctors have given different names, to be dif-
ferent diseases, and produced by  different causes, and possess-
ing distinct  natures; and that a knowledge of  those invisible 
53
agents is placed beyond our investigation, only that they arc
distinct in their nature, because their  effects on the system
are different.  Now, we must imagine that all those agents
are so many different enemies to human life, and the destruc-
tion of each requires different means, because their nature,is
different, judging, however, only from their effects;  whereas
one cause may and does produce many effects, different in
their appearance and nature.
   You must perceive, fellow-citizens, that this theory would
introduce u very doubtful and dangerous practice of medicine
—for, it would be impossible for any man to discriminate so
nicely as not to be frequently deceived, and any mistake here
would be fatal in its consequences.  These inexplicable agents,
producing disease, must all of them be conquered by different
weapons—some of them must be starved, others fed to death;
some must be drowned, while  others must die with thirst;
some  must be burned, others frozen;  some must be thrown
off by emetics, others by cathartics, and some few may be
sweat to death.  Some of those enemies to human life  may
be slain by arsenic, others by  mercury ; some may be hurled
from the  system  by the stimulating effects of cantharides—
others must be precipitated from  it by blood-letting.  Now.
you must all perceive, that this is a dangerous way to  practice
medicine; for, if the doctor should  undertake  to starve one
that ought to be fed, or should he undertake to draw one out
by blood-letting, which ought to be poisoned, the life of the pa-
tient would undoubtedly be in danger.
  When, I say, we are made acquainted with all the darkness,,
difficulty and danger of the popular practice of medicine,  we
certainly shall, when we understand them both, hail with joy
the superior light of Dr. Thomson's discovery!
   He has taught us, that a diminution of free caloric produces
all those difficulties.  Fire is the life of the animal and vege-
table economy.  It causes every spear of grass,  every ear of
coin, all the herbage of the field,  every leaf upon the trees.
and all the fruit of autumn,  to grow—and it is no  less  the
cause of life and animation in the animal  kingdom.  By its
influence the reptile creeps  upon  the  earth, and  the insect
flies in the air: in a word,  it  supplies life and vigor to all  ra-
tional and irrational beings, and is emphatically the cause of
life and action throughout the material world:—And  this ele-
ment is at the disposal of the Deity. 
ou
LECTURE IV.
  HAVING in a preceding Lecture called your attention to
she outlines of our Theory of Disease, (not altogether in vain,
I have the vanity to believe,) it was judged it might be useful
to you, by your humble servant, the speaker, and by his and
your friends, that you, fellow-citizens, this evening be addres-
sed upon the following subjects:—
  1st. On the  nature and tendency of what physicians term
stimulants.
  2d. On the nature and tendency of blood-letting.
  3d. On the nature and tendency of steaming, as a medicine
in disease.
  Isi. On the nature and tendency of what physicians tern;
stimulants.  These are medicines so termed, which possess a
power of exciting the  animal energy.  The above is the ex-
planation  given  by learned doctors of the word stimulant.
You will perceive, fellow-citizens, according to this definition,
that every thing is a stimulant which produces  action, wheth-
er it be in the mind or body.   Hence, a very ingenious writer
speaks of sentiments and objects as stimulating the minds and
the sensorial power.  It may be said that a sublime prospect
stimulates the imagination, and indeed the whole intellect to
lively action.  All  the  inducements to virtue  and  morality,
such as the unlimited goodness of the Creator, act as stimu-
lations on the mind. But none, perhaps, acts so powerfully as
opposition : when we are opposed in our favotite notions, or
when indeed we meet  with barriers in the way to the  enjoy-
ment of our liberties, then the mind is stimulated to the extent
of its power.  But it is not so important for us,  at  this time,
to notice the mental, as the bodily stimuli.
  We are told by Dr. Hooper, that stimulants  are medicines
which possess power to excite the animal energy.  His mean-
ing is, I think, only this—They produce action" in the animal
system.   What he or other physicians mean by "animal en-
ergy," more than  muscular and nervous action, neither he
nor they have seen proper to inform us.  We know the word
energy,  means  power or force, and stimulants arouse  that
power or energy  to action.   But what notions can we form of 
57
 power in an animal body without any action?  It appears  to
 me, it would be quite contrary to truth were we to say, that
 an animal possesses power, when at the same time it was des-
 titute of action; and it seems to me, also equally destitute of
 truth,  should we affirm that medicines could excite the ani-
 mal energy, without exciting the system to action :—for, how-
 can we obtain knowledge of powerfulness or activity of things,
 unless they are in action  or producing action ?  In no way,
 surely.  It appears to me clearly,  that we can get no cor-
 rect ideas of power, force, energy, (words nearly of the same
 meaning,)  without action;—and it is very necessary that a
 distinction should be  made between that  which  produces the
 action, and the action itself.  In medical writings, when the
 terms power, energy, &c.  are used, it should  be distinctly
 known whether we refer to  the action, or the cause of action
 —whether the agent producing action, or the action produc-
 ed, is meant:—for, when it is said  that the animal energy is
 excited, we must remember that an effect is produced  upon
 the active power of the system, for the energy and the active
 power, I think, are the same agent;  or, what Dr. Hooper calls
 animal energy, I shall term active power.
   Our ignorance  of  the first causes of action in  the animal
 economy, has induced us to name the action and the efficient
 cause of action, both one.   Thus we apply the terms hot and
 cold, to the substances themselves,  calling those  bodies hot
 which produce in us the sensation of heat, and those cold which
 communicate the contrary sensation. This ambiguity, though
 of little consequence in the common affairs of life, has una-
voidably led to confusion and perplexity in philosophical dis-
cussion.  It was to prevent this, that the framers of the new
nomenclature adopted the word "caloric," which denotes thai
 which produces the sensation of heat.
   To prevent a worse perplexity, and at the same time pro-
ductive of more good, I shall adopt  the term free caloric,  as.
the cause of animal action, instead of" active power," " animal
 energy," and the like.
  You will  remember I attempted  to prove in the last Lec-
ture, that free caloric is the cause of life  and energy in the
 v egetable and animal kingdoms;  and this free caloric, or ani-
mal heat, instead of animal energy,  is what is  excited by
stimulants.   The energy or power of the  animal system must
be predicated upon the existence of free caloric in the system-
 Power,  and other words of a  similar meaning, are relative 
5S
 terms.  If a thing is powerful, something must render it so;
 and if an animal is active, it is by the agency of something
 that possesses active  power  within itself:—And there is no-
 thing hitherto discovered, which appears to possess that, but   ,
 free caloric.  This is surely true with respect to animal and
 vegetable life: and the power and energy of the system will
 be in proportion  to the increase or diminution of the free ca-
 loric in the whole system
  If the preceding remarks be true, we see that accurate dis-
 crimination, however unimportant on other subjects,  is, on
 this, of vital consequence.  We should surely, in order to
 think correctly,  make a distinction between the animal ener-
 gy  and that which causes the energy.  When a learned doc-
 tor  says, that "stimulants excite the animal energy," and if
 we  remove the ambiguity of  his words, he in reality says only
 this, "stimulants excite the  animal action of the actions"—
 because energy or power, as  we  have remarked, are relative
 terms.   Fire, to  be sure, has energy and  power—or,  in other
 words, fire is powerful  and active.   But still we are to make
 a distinction between the action, and the agent which produ-
 ces  the action.   A man may write, but his writings are not
 the  man himself—they are only the  actions of the man.  It
 is exactly so with fire: it possesses energy or power, but neith-
 er of these are fire—they are only the effects or properties of
 lire.  So the animal energy  must have a cause, and let that
 cause  be what it  may, the  animal energy cannot be  excited
 without  affecting the  cause of the animal energy or action.
 Hence, it is evident, that it would be  much more  proper  to
 say that "stimulants excite the cause of  energy,"  than "the
 energy of the animal."
  It is well known by all men of reading, that mankind have,
from the earliest  ages of the world, whenever the; Tiave beeu
ignorant of remote causes of  phenomena, they ' ave termed
 tiie  cause and effect one.   We see it is so in the subject under
consideration.  Who does not know, that if Dr. Hooper had
known that free caloric is the cause of action  in animal bo-
 dies, instead of saying that "stimulants excite the animal en-
ergy," he would  have  said  " they affect the free caloric, and
in that way produce energy  in the system"?   His very ex-   <
pressions induce  us to believe he knew nothing of the cause of
animal life, for he uses a word which indicates an effect rather
 *han a cause—for energy,  as I have remarked, is a  relative
 term, and in my  view of the subject, it would be very impro- 
59
per to say that the actions of the agent are excited to action.
Now, it appears to  me, and 1 think it will to every impartial
observer, that it is very necessary for the  physician to have
an accurate perception of the first causes  of animal life and
action.   It will not do, and he must be deemed a quack, if he
does content himself by saying it is "animal energy," and the
like.  I do insist  upon it, that a man is not qualified to prac-
tice medicine, until he shall have acquired a thorough knowl-
edge of the great principle of organic life.  For a man to go
into the practice of medicine, without one correct view of the
first and great cause of animal life, and so ignorant of physi-
ology as to be unable to define the substantial  difference  be-
tween a live animal and a dead one, is truly lamentable. Such
a state  of medical knowledge surely  does not correspond to
the progress our fellow-citizens have made in the other arts.
   But,  as lamentable as it may appear, such is the condition
of medical knowledge in the legalised institutions throughout
Christendom.  Think not,  fellow-citizens, that I am not in
earnest, for  I speak the sentiments of my heart.  There is
not, I will not say a remaining doubt, for I have never had
any since 1 formed an acquaintance with Dr. Thomson's the-
ory and practice of medicine,  but that the people throughout
Christendom, within a few years, will be convinced of the truth
of the sentiments I  have expressed.  But, to return to  our
 subject:  if  we possess  no certain knowledge of the  cause of
 action  in the human  system, we shall have no  sure guide to
 direct us in the administration of any medicine, in any disease.
 If a physician should be directed to excite the animal energy
 by one of his authors, how could he accomplish that without
 endangering the life  of the patient, while destitute of any  cor-
 rect view. ->f the nature of the animal energy.   For what he
 would  tern.,animal energy, might be excited by destroying.
 as well as by assisting  it.
    In the remaining part  of my  remarks upon the nature of
 stimulants, I shall proceed upon the theory which I advocated
 in my  other Lecture, viz : that free caloric is the cause of life
 and motion in the animal kingdom.  According to our views
 of this subject, any  thing  which tends to  maintain a proper
 portion of free caloric in the system, is a stimulant.   Our dai-
 ly food operates, undoubtedly, as a stimulant.   When taken
 into the stomach, it  may be considered as the fuel to keep up
 that heat in the system necessary to life.  For, without it, the
 fire would go out, and the animal would die.   Some kinds of 
60
 food in particular diseases, if properly taken, will effect a cure.
 The heat which it affords to the system, will remove the ob-
 structions.  But when that is not sufficiently stimulating to
 remove them, more powerful means, but of the same nature,
 should be resorted to.  Medicine should affect the system in
 the same manner as our food  does, only  more  powerfully.
 And we never ought to take any kind of medicine, or in oth-
 er words, we never ought to take any thing for medicine, the
 effects of which  on the system would not be congenial to  out-
 living  on the most nutritious food.   In  removing  disease,
 medicine may, with sufficient accuracy, be compared to  the
 lever which we use in raising the edifice, but food  must be the
 blocking.  There are, it must be acknowledged, a great vari-
 ety of stimuli in  the vegetable kingdom.   All these stimulate
 the system by increasing the free caloric, and those are what
 I term direct stimulants.  They  possess a power  of exciting
 not the animal energy, but the "fire in the system ; not by wa-
 ging war with it,  or by diminishing it, but by increasing it.
   1 am not willing to acknowledge  any thing as a stimulant,
 but what  has a direct tendency to  increase the free caloric.
 Such medicines  may with  propriety be termed  stimulants.
 What the innate nature of these kinds  of articles are, we do
 not undertake to describe, but it  is  such, we know, as  to in-
 crease the heat of the system.   And  this is a part  of that
 great system of  nature, so well  adapted to advance human
 happiness.  We  know  by experience that by far  the greater
 number of vegetables found in  our country are stimulants.
 Why may we not regard this as an evidence in favor of Dr.
 Thomson's theory.
  If heat  be life, have we  not reason to believe  that nature
 would provide mauy articles to sustain it ? I would remark,
 here, lest I should forget it, that our system of  practice does
 not embrace ardent spirits as a stimulant.  That is, we do not
 use it for a stimulant.  Neither do we make use of it, except
 in one or two preparations.  It may, to be sure, raise the heat
 of the body when first taken into the stomach, but its influ-
ence is ultimately to diminish it.  And here, fellow-citizens,
permit  me to remark, that of all the plans hitherto conceived
 by philanthropists, to stop the growing and threatening evil of
 intoxication,  the vegetable practice of medicine will bear
 away the palm.   I will give you my reasons for believing the
 above remark.  Men who are accustomed to hard labor, and
 exposed  to over  action, or sudden  heats  and colds, will, o*' 
61
eourse at times feel the need of something stimulating.  Thev
have lost heat, and inaction and dulness will prevail through-
out the system—over the mind as well as over the body.  Uu-
der thesecircumstances the perspiration ;s checked, and great
soreness in the bones and flesh, attended  Ith uncommon thirst,
and a total loss of appetite.  The eff   s are the same in the
decline of life, when the system is gn  iy debilitated  with age.
and many years of hard  labor.  N. ., the system in both of
the above cases loses that  heat nee. ;sary to both mental and
bodily activity.   We have  remarked in such cases, that some-
thing stimulating is needed, and accordingto thepresent views
of such men, spirituous liquors  is the  remedy.   They have
used that  before, and it answered the purpose, and  therefore
it is resorted to again.  It  does, as we have already said, raise
the heat of the system when first received  into the  stomach.
and  consequently the mental and bodily dulness  subsides'
The soreness in the bones  and flesh is destroyed.  The per
spiration  is free, and  sometimes the appetite is restored and
the thirst allayed.  But those good effects continue only for
a short time, for  while it stimulates the system by the heat it
contains, it destroys it by its narcotic quality.   Could the hea
it contains be separated from  the narcotic  poison, it would
surely become  a useful   medicine.   But this has  not to
my knowledge hitherto been accomplished.  Whether it ever
can be or not, I am not at  present prepared to say.  I shoulcf
hope, however, that  it might be achieved.   To have ardent
spirits so  cleansed and purified from all poison, of every des
cription, so that it would be as harmless, and at the same time
as salutary and powerful on the system as capsicum, is what I
should greatly rejoice to see.   To rectify spirituous liquors
so as  to prevent it from  producing intoxication, would be ;i
curiosity indeed.   But I must leave this subject, and return
to the one under consideration.
  It is, then, the heat, which spirituous liquor possesses, thaf;
renders it in  any degree salutary and desirable.  Take from
its stimulating quality, and no one would think of using it in
the manner they now do.  Now, if something could be intro
duced into common use, in the room of ardent spirits, contain-
ing as much or more heat than that does, without producing
any narcotic effects, it would, I have the fullest confidence to
believe, be attended with the very best of consequences.  To
say it  would eradicate drunkenness from the earth, is more
than I am willing to  affirm.  But that it would have  a more 
62
powerful influence to do it than any thing else hitherto dis-
covered, I feel safe in affirming.  For if the system could be
stimulated by other means, the same end would  be accom-
plished without intoxication.   I do not  say that this or any
thing else  would reclaim the confirmed drunkard.   But I be-
lieve it would have a powerful tendency to prevent drunken-
ness.   This subject, fellow-citizens, is worthy of your notice.
It is worthy, too, of the notice of those well-meaning people,
who are extending the knowledge of and circulating the med-
icine to prevent drunkenness, contrived by Chambers.  How-
ever useful his medicine  may be in reclaiming confirmed
drunkards, I shall not attempt to say, although I never knew
any good effect attending its administration in such cases; but
it is quite certain that his  medicine must fail in the most im-
portant point.   For it has no tendency to prevent those from
becoming  drunkards who are not so at the present.  It has no
influence to supply that stimulus to the system which is ne-
cessary, and all the way it prevents intoxication, is, it prevents
a fondness for it.  It  creates a disrelish, or loathing, in the
individual  against it.   Therefore it can have no influence  to
save those from becoming drunkards, who have not at present
an uncommon fondness for it, and who are not at the present
drunkards.  But the great point to be gained, is, to rescue the
rising generation from this growing evil.  It is much easier
to prevent this case than to cure it.   We  may work to much
greater advantage in saving a nation from destruction, by pre-
venting the evil which threatens to destroy it, than by rescu-
ing it from its influence when it has once overtaken it.  Now,
the vegetable practice of  medicine, as taught by Dr. Thom-
son, would have a powerful influence to prevent this evil, by
supplying  that stimuli at all times with pure vegetable stimu-
lants.  When men are getting up from a  fit of sickness, when
they have  been exposed to cold, or any thing which debilitates
the system, there is nothing more common than  to resort to
ardent spirits.   In this  way I have no doubt hundreds and
thousands have become drunkards.  But we use no such stim-
ulants.  We supply the system with heat by other means.
The prevalence of our  system of practice would teach every
man, to use in all cases, stimulants which would not produce
intoxication.   But I have pursued  this subject much longer
than I intended.  We  will therefore return to that undw;
consideration.
  Physicians have applied the term stimulant, to all those ar- 
63
 tides which produce action in  the  animal system.  This I
 think is surely, if not unphilosophical in theory, dangerous in
 its practical results.  There are two ways by which the system
 may be excited to  action.  One is by directly increasing the
 free caloric.   This is accomplished with pure vegetable stim-
 ulus.   The other is, by administering such articles as have a
 direct tendency to destroy the free caloric, so that when they
 are received into the  stomach and come in  contact with  the
 heat, they produce action, by arousing all the energy of the
 fire to resist their  deleterious  effects.  The articles which
 produce these effects are mercury and antimony, or indeed
 the whole catalogue of mineral poisons.   The former are  our
 ideas of stimulus—the latter those of mineral physicians.  We
 stimulate  the  system only  by augmenting the sum of fire it
 contains.  They stimulate it, not by increasing the fire, but by
 arousing it into action to conquer an enemy.   And to gain  a
 victory over a powerful foe it generally requires the loss of
 blood.  We stimulate  nature by assisting it.  They try to-
 assist nature by destroying it.   Free caloric is the cause of life
 and motion, throughout animated nature—is the great govern-
 ing principle in our system.  This enables us to proceed with
 safety and accuracy in the administration of medicine.  It is
 evident both from their theory and practice,  that the present
 tribe of legalized doctors possess no knowledge on this point.
 This is clearly the case from their views of stimulants.   For
 stimulating the system is only producing action in the system.
 And no healthy action can be produced  in the system but by
 increasing the cause of action.   But the cause of action is free
 caloric, therefore no healthy action  can be produced but by
 increasing the free caloric.  Because if the system is excited
 to action by any other means but such as  have a direct influ-
 ence  to increase the free caloric, it must be by what I have
 termed indirect stimuli.  And if so, it produces action not by
 increasing the cause of action, but by destroying it.  In order
to stimulate the system directly, medicine  must be given, the
effects of which will correspond to the first cause of action in
the animal system.  That is, it must agree with it and tend to
augment it.  But the first cause of action  in the animal system
 \%fire. Any medicine, therefore, which has  no tendency to
increase the fire, is not in reality a stimulant, or it is not a  di-
rect stimulant.  Now, I would ask, to what else does the whole
refrigerant course of treatment amount, but  to what I have
termed  indirect  stimulants.  What  influence has mercury, 
04
 and a host of other cold, mineral poisons, to increase the free
  aloric, which has been clearly proved to be the cause of ani-
 mal life?  When these are taken into the stomach, being cold
 dead minerals, their first and natural tendency is to paralyze
 the action of the absorbent system.  But to prevent this, tin
 free caloric in the system  is immediately  aroused to action,
 and  if there be a sufficient quantity of  it in the system, and
 the constitution of the patient good, they will  be prevented
 from destroying immediately the life of the patient.  But they
 generally lay  the foundation for a chronic  disease.  It is no
 difficult  matter to see how such means exhaust the strength
 of the patient.  For  although heat may be  created  in the
 conflict between  poison and life by the increased  action, but
 still that increased heat  is  more than overbalanced by an in-
 creased disease produced by the poison.
  It is a clear case that those means are active only, as they
 are acted upon by the heat of  the system.   They of them-
 selves tend to  death, and would and do produce it, when not
 expelled from the system by the active influence of free calo-
 ric.   It is this  which conveys them, or especially mercury, to
 every part of the body.  They are not thus conveyed by their
 own activity, for they are  not active on the system only by
 destroying it.  And when  mercury produces an increased se-
 cretion of saliva,  or what is more commonly termed salivation,
 it is expelled from the interior to the glandular system, in an
 effort of nature to free the system of its deadly effects.  But,
 it being a very cold, heavy mineral, it is lodged in the glands ;
 nature is not sufficiently powerful to throw it off, and it remains
 there for years, or at least its effects do, producing scrofula,
 and innumerable other difficulties.  It is said by calomel doc-
 tors in certain diseases, if salivation cannot be effected, the
 patient must die.   This generally is the case, though  not al-
 ways.   I regard this mercurial process altogether in the light
 of an experiment. The truth is this—if the patient be not so
 far gone,  and the free caloric so far exhausted  as to prevent
 action when it is taken into the stomach, the patient had be-
 fore taking it, life enough to get well, and  so salivation will
'take place.  But if the heat  be so diminished when the mer-
 cury is taken,  as  to prevent  any conflict between  the poison
 and  the fire, between the deleterious effects of calomel and
 nature, the patient of course will  immediately sink—when,
 perhaps, without it he would get up.  It has no tendency to
 cure the patient.   But we  learn whether he can live or not, 
G5
And if he have free caloric sufficient in the system, to over-
come the cold, it would do it much sooner, and the  patient
would be much better when done without, than with the dire-
ful  effects  of mercury.  This is surely a dangerous way of
learning whether a sick man can get well or not.  What has
been said of mercury will apply to the whole refrigerant course
of treatment.  Such, fellow-citizens, is  the nature and ten-
dency of what learned doctors  term  stimulants.  I am well
aware, fellow-citizens, that I have  not  done justice to this
subject.  At present, neither my time or circumstances will
admit of it; should my life and health be spared, I may at
some future period resume this subject again, as I intend to.
all the other  medical subjects upon which I have  written.
But it  is time to notice my second proposition, which is the
nature and tendency of blood-letting.
  There is a right way to do every thing respecting human
happiness and human life.  When they  are brought about in
that way, the desired end will always be accomplished.  But
how are we to  be directed in  obtaining  a knowledge of that
way ?  The answer is at hand.   By examining with critical at-
tention the way that nature directs.  It is by tracing the chan-
nels in which the great architect of nature designed things to
flow, that we are to get the most important instruction res-
pecting the proper uses of things, and  the way to produce
effects connected with  which is human  happiness.  In doing
this it requires an  accurate discrimination between art and
 nature, between truth and what appears to be truth—the work
 of man and the work of God.  Our eyes are frequently daz-
 zled with the work of art, so that those channels which nature
 has provided, and through which  good  is continually flowing
 to the human race, are not discovered.   This is especially so
 in regard to the science of medicine.   Theories of disease are
 built in art and not in  nature, and then a course of treatment
 is fabricated in art and not in nature to remove it.   1 o affirm
 that there  is nothing in the appearance or nature of things
 indicating to us their  use, would be to  affirm that the earth
 was made without design, and that its Creator has no wisdom.
 We know and can clearly see great designs in  many things,
 such as the uses of our hands, and feet, and the like.
   Now, since this design is so apparent in the more important
 things, why may we  not expect it in al  others? No one is
 qualified to answer in the negative, until he  has penetrattd
 the dark cloud of conjecture,  and examined, oneby one,  tne
                             6* 
66
whole arcanum of nature.  It is of great importance, in regard
to our food and medicine, that we pursue the way that nature
points out.
   We will now be a little more particular  in our remarks.
When disease is introduced into the human system, it must,
by some means and by some avenues or other, be thrown off,
to save the life of the patient  and restore health to man.  In
disease it is a clear point, that there is something which must
be eradicated from the system: but how is this to be effected ?
What way does nature point out? The natural evacuations of
the animal economy, surely; by emetics, cathartics, diuretics
and  diaphoretics—or, in other words, by purging, vomiting
and sweating.   These are,  undoubtedly, the natural outlets
to disease.  But where  has nature made any provision for
blood-letting?  You will say, perhaps, in the veins of the arm,
and in other parts of the system. Nature has given men necks
too> and sharpened steel will sever  them from the body; but
no one will imagine that nature has given men necks to show
Us that our heads should be cut off.   Not only so, the arteries
and veins of the body have another  and important use, besides
being placed there for  us  to  cut;  but the  pores  and other
evacuations have no other use, but to throw off  disease, and
what would create it, if not emitted  from the system.   Hence
we conclude, that blood-letting is contrary to nature, and must
of course, be injurious.   Its nature  is to destroy life.  When
a patient has taken violent cold, and  the pulse is hard and
quick, attended with a great suspension of action in the stom-
ach and bowels, a hot surface and perhaps local inflamation—
under such circumstances, physicians, in the  present daj%
imagine blood-letting necessary.
  It is true, in such cases the arterial action is greatly excited,
and the larger veins and arteries appear distended.   But what
is the cause of this?  Is it because the patient has  too  much
blood? or, is it because there is not an equal circulation, and
because the perspiration is  checked,  and the action thereby
thrown upon the arterial system, and the water retained which
should be emitted?  When a man is in good health, it is well
known by critical observers, that water is continually thrown
off by insensible perspiration; but when the system is diseas-
ed, those particles are retained, and  conspire with other causes
to produce distension in the vessels  and hardness of pulse—
which induces the physician to believe that the patient has
100 much blood; whereas he has not too much blood, but too 
G7
much water and diseased fluid, which ought to pass off .by
some of the natural evacuations.
  Now, in the above case, nature must be assisted.  But how ?
By taking blood?  Yes, say learned doctors.  But what ten-
dency has that to remove the cold ? None, surely. It certain-
ly can have no influence to remove the cause of disease;  be-
sides, it has a direct tendency to weaken the patient, because
the best  blood is  taken.   This, perhaps, may be,  by some,
disputed—but a little reflection will teach us  that is the fact:
for, nature in the animal economy, has made provision to resist
the effects of disease, and efforts are always made to clear the
system of disease.  Those particles which produce distension
in the arteries and  disease in the system, nature or free caloric
uniformly makes efforts to  throw off.  When an incision is
made into an artery or vein, those particles are on their way
to the skin; hence the  good  blood is drawn from the body,
and those particles are excited back againj and thus perspira-
tion  is checked and  the disease increased by this retrograde
action.  This course of treatment is evidently contrary to na-
ture.  In such cases those means should be used which would
excite an equal and healthful  action,  in every part of the sys-
tem.  Then the disease would pass off by the natural evacua-
tions.  But  that bleeding might be of some  use in falls and
the like, I shall not attempt to deny, although I think other
means might be used in by far the greater number of such
cases, to more advantage.
   I have only time now, fellow-citizens, to  give you a  few
hints on this important subject—for,  should I think to satisfy
my own mind on this point, the present limits I have setto
my remarks would be too much extended.
   My 3d proposition  remains to be noticed—which is, the
nature and tendency of steaming, as a medicine  in disease.
This application has given  character more than any other, to
the Thomsonian practice of medicine.   Although it is quite a
subordinate part of his practice, still the community have been
so misinformed as  to be induced to believe it is all the means
he uses.  It is true, steaming is the  only remedy mentioned
in his book, which imprudence can wield to the injury of the
patient;  but it is nevertheless useful, as doctors of all descrip-
tions have long since acknowledged.   The tendency it has in
removing disease,  has been perhaps already suggested to you
in the preceding Lectures.  You need not be informed again,
that it is our sentiment that heat fs the cause of animal life 
68
 uid its diminution the cause of all diseases.   This point 1 un-
 dertook to prove  to you,  in my last Lecture.  Any means,
 therefore, which will increase the free caloric, without injuring
 the constitution, must, according to our theory, be salutary.
   But, it has often been remarked, that sweating by steaming,
 is very dangerous and  injurious to the constitution.   That n
 man can be killed with steam, no one denies.   Concerning its
 tendency to injure the constitution,  we shall make some  re-
 marks.  What bad effects can sweating, by a proper applica-
 tion of steam, together with pure vegetable stimulants, taken
 into the stomach, produce, that sweating by exercise will not
 produce ? for, surely, it is not believed that sweating in a warm
 day, when a man is at work, injures his constitution.  In the
 first place, the perspiration  is excited by taking stimulants to
 raise the internal heat, and  then  by applying the steam-bath
 to rarify the surrounding atmosphere—and this treatment is
 pursued until the water becomes volatile. In the second place,
 the perspiration is produced by exercise, the heat is increased
 by friction and frequent oxidations of the blood in the lungs.
 In one case, the free caloric is increased without exercise; in
 the other, with it.  In one case, the sweating is effected with-
 out muscular action; in the  other, it is produced by it.  Hence
 we conclude,  that perspiration produced by labor, would  be
 more likely to injure the  constitution.
   For the sake of  illustrating the effects of steam, as a medi-
 cine in disease, we will take  for example an inflamation of the
 brain.   We will proceed  and show the cause  and nature of
 that disease,  and what tendency steaming has, with other
 things, to remove it.  Inflamation of the brain  is characteriz-
ed by strong fever, hard and frequent pulse, vomiting, griping
pains of the bowels, a sudden check of perspiration, and indeed
 a want of  action in all  the  secretory and excretory vessels of
the system.  But this inactivity  exists  more in the  stomach
 and bowels and extremities  of the system—in consequence of
 which, the blood and heat is in  a very powerful degree impel-
led to the  head.  Now, that free caloric which produced  an
 equal action before in  the whole  body, is propelled to the ar-
 teries, and especially the vessels of the head.   This change is
 brought about  by cold, producing a spasm or contraction in
 the absorbent vessels.   Now, we must  remember that the in-
 creased heat, and of course  action in the head, is not the dis-
 ease, but the effects of the  disease.  The cause is not in the
 head, but  in the stomach and bowels—and it is nothing tin- 
60
common when phremtis terminates fatally, to see first appear-
ances of gangrene in the region of the  stomach and bowels.
In this disease our legalized doctors bleed most copiously, to
reduce the action and to allay the heat.   Permit me, fellow-
citizens, to make one remark here with  respect to such treat-
ment, in this and in all similar cases.  It is the object of the
doctor, to be sure, to produce an equilibrium  in the circula-
tion, but he endeavors to do it by reducing the action in the
part where  the  sympathetic disease is  located, down to an
equilibrium with the  action in the part where the primary dis-
ease is seated.   But there is but little action in the part where
the radical disease is situated, and when the action in the  head,
or wherever the  increased  action is located, is reduced to an
equilibrium with the  action in the part where the radical dis-
ease is, the patient is either dead or so reduced  that a cure is
impossible.  This is  taking the patient away from the disease,
and not the disease away from the patient.—This, fellow-citi-
zens, is a  great error in the practice of medicine.   Its conse-
quences are, in numerous cases, I have no doubt, fatal.  Such
are the sentiments of those doctors which the laws of this state
compel  you to employ.   In such cases they pay no attention
to the cold, which is  the cause of the complaint; they scarce-
ly ever give any medicine to excite perspiration, or to arouse
the absorbent  system, or to equalize the circulation.
   In  the  case of phrenitis which I have mentioned, I should
in the first place, clear the  stomach and  bowels, and raise the
internal heat,  and then  apply the steam-bath to throw open
the pores.  By this process, a cure can generally be effected.
Sweating  has a tendency to excite the determining powers to
the surface, by producing action in the external absorbents.
By this, I mean  it has an influence to maintain insensible per-
spiration.   This, besides its tendency to  prevent  many dis-
eases, or indeed all  diseases, causes our food to nourish the
system  much more than it  otherwise would ; for, without it, it
would pass directly through the system without imparting any
strength to it.   Hence, sweating is necessary  in all chronic
diseases.   But it is important that the internal heat should be
raised before steaming.
   We might make  many  more remarks upon this important
process to remove disease; but my present limits will not ad-
mit of  it.  What I have written was done in great haste, for
I have not at present, time to be either more diffuse or more
critical in  my obsesvations.  I cannot  dismiss this subject. 
70
  however, without answering one objection, that is frequently
  raised against the Thomsonian theory of disease.  The  ob-
 jection  is this—When the fever is the highest the patient is
  the most thirsty, and that this must arise from an accumula-
  tion of heat in the stomach and in the region of the stomach;
  and so it is said, that, in fevers, the heat is not driven from the
  centre to the surface, but that the system is too highly charg-
  ed with it throughout;—whereas, our sentiment  is, that  the
  heat has left the centre for the surface, being driven therefrom
  by the cold—and that the thirst is caused by a want of heat,
 rather than by an excess of it.
   You will perceive that  our sentiments and those of the le-
 galized physicians, are very different on  this, as well as on all
 other subjects of a medical description—and if they are in the
 right, we are in the wrong; and on the other hand, if we are
 tight, they must be  wrong,  and their practice very injurious.
   We believe then, that the cold in  the stomach occasions the
 thirst; the calomel doctor believes  it is heat in the surface of
 the mouth, fauces and stomach.  In order to understand this
 subject, we must  resort to experience;  we must learn what
 substances, taken into the stomach, are the most likely to allay
 the thirst, and what  the most likely to produce it.  In high
 fever, according to Dr. Currie,  the cold bath immediately  al-
 layed  the thirst, not, it  cannot surely be  believed, by absorp-
 tion of water, but by impelling the  heat from the surface to
 the centre, and thereby causing action in  the exhalents.  It is
 known from experience, that  vegetable stimulants will quench
 thirst; the applications then, which will allaythe thirst,favors
 our theory.   Now, let us in the second place, see what will
 produce thirst;—it is well  known from experience, that salt
 lias a great influence to increase thirst,  and it is equally as
 well known too, that  it is a very cold substance.  After a man
 has been travelling during a  very cold day, he is  very apt to
 be thirsty; and in short, when a man has taken cold,  and it
 terminates in a fever, he is  very thirsty.  I  conclude, that
 what has been said on this subject, will be sufficient to  con-
 vince every reflecting man, that thirst is caused by cold in the
 stomach, and not by heat.

  In view of all that has been  said on this subject, I would ask
 does Dr. Thomson deserve imprisonment and all the persecu-
 tion he has received from regular physicians? Dr. Thomson's
practice is rational, and in a high degree salutary in its effects; 
71
and his discovery shows as many absurdities and transubstan-
tiations in the common theory of diseases, as the reformation
and a more  enlightened  philosophy have in the religion  of
catholics, or in the legends of monkish superstition.
  Some remarks on the recent act of the Legislature of this
state, in respect to the practice of medicine, shall conclude
this Lecture.  The act to which I refer,  is in substance this:
No man shall practice medicine without a  diploma from the
present medical establishment—if he does, he shall be guilty
of a misdemeanor, and punished by fine and  imprisonment,
or both, at the discretion  of the  court.—I know of men, who
have been in the habit of attending upon the sick, and have
made themselves acquainted with many useful medicines, and
who have very frequently cured diseases, which those doctors,
whom you are now compelled to employ or none, could not—
and indeed,  in almost every neighborhood,  such a man can be
found.—Fellow-citizens,  will you suffer such an act  to be, in
point of law, a misdemeanor, punishable by fine or imprison-
ment, or both ? Will you permit the man  in your neighbor-
hood to be taken to prison, for doing you good ?  for, it is the
good which  vegetable physicians have done, and not the evil,
which has induced the doctors to seek  their destruction.  Be-
lieve me, fellow-citizens,  this new act has been  brought about
by the faculty, to rob you of your rights.  It is not going to
injure vegetable physicians, for they have never received  but
little compensation for their services.  This is not our object:
that is to teach you  to be your own physicians, and so ulti-
mately throw off that grievous burden that you now have to
bear.  The fear the faculty have that we shall effect this, have
induced them to pursue  the measures  they have taken,   li
will be in vain for them to tell  you, that they have acted for
vour good,  for they are  never better suited than when they
have full employ—and if steam-doctors do so much  injury as
is pretended,  it will only increase their business.  It is  the
success with which the vegetable practice has  been crowned,
that has carried dismay into the ranks of their enemies.
   We do not make these remarks, fellow-citizens, because we
 are  in fear that  the  vegetable practice is  in danger of being
 destroyed,  or that Dr. Thomson's  fame is not safe—for we
 believe they are both placed beyond the influence of profes-
 sional malice.  Tfce malignity of the faculty has been such, as
 to convince us, that if they do  not totally  eradicate the vege-
 table practice, it will to because they cannot. Yet the measures flie,y 
72
have taken are as indicative of their stupidity, as their theory am:
practice of medicine is of their ignorance. They might have known
that this  movement would have shown their evil designs;—they
ought to have known that the people of this state are too enlighten-
ed, too zealous of their rights, to suffer this offspring of despotism to
exist for any length of time.   According to this law, people are
compelled to employ such physicians, and such only, as the medical
establishment shall send among them.   They are not left  to choose
for themselves: the faculty has, they would fain have you believe,
kindly provided for the safety and well-being of your bodies.
   This law is productive of evil on many accounts.  And first, it i:;
an effectual barrier against improvement in the healing art.  I have
elsewhere remarked, that from the fact that knowledge is pi ogres ■
sive, knowledge ought not to assume the form of a perpetual en-
campment.  Its tendency is to remove all exciting causes to emu-
lation.  The law now prohibits any opposition line whatever.   This
is  giving them privileges  which no class of men, whatever, has en-
joyed since  the inquisition.   They  have a right to give what they
please for medicine, and then charge what they please for it, and
no tribunal but one made up of themselves,  can call them to  an
account.   We are in no greater need of a medical  establishment,
than of a religions establishment, and one is equally as contrary to
free government as the other ; and the only reason why the former
is not as much detested as the latter, is because we have been more
accustomed to it.   When community is once awakened to the im-
portance of this subject, justice will undoubtedly take place.   Then
it will be  seen how they  have  endeavored to keep the  people in
ignorance, and  how they  have attempted'to  extinguish the trans-
cendent light which Thomson's theory sheds upon the healing art.
Were it a fact that their  views of  disease are  correct,  and  llieir
practice nature's assistant, it would besome palliation, but the most
stupid ignorance is conspicuous in all, or nearly all their notions of
disease.  Their whole system is a jargon of contradictions, which
will be regarded by future ages in the same point of light as explo-
ded systems  in philosophy and religion  are  by the  present age.
Truth, fellow-citizens, needs  not law to support it.   In an enlight-
ened country like our own, the ever watchful  eye of self-preserva-
tion, is the safeguard to our freedom.  Our liheity is in  imminent
danger when it is intrusted to any set of men over which we have
no control.  The  notion  that we must trust the soul to the priest,
the body  to the doctor, and  our liberties to the lawyer, is an  erro-
neous one.  These, fellow-citizens, may be all useful, but still they
are to act under the   inspection of  the community.  The people  /
are to be the judges of their honesty  and merits.  But  according to
the recent act respecting  the practice of medicine,  the people are
excluded from the privilege of  exercising any authority over tho
medical establishment. 
'■1
1 
  ERRATA.—In perusing these Lectures, the reader will
please notice the following corrections:—
In page 6,14 lines from bottom, for " is," read it.
------• 7, 26 lines from top, for "different," read differently.
-----IS,  fl lines from top, for "that nature," read  that the
          nature.
-----24, 22 lines from top, for " lengthy," read long.
      24, last line, foriCexist," read excel.
      41,16 lines from bottom, for "era," read fire.
       52, 3 lines from top, for " so," read too.
 
 
 
Meet • W lib.

  lit)
Tim
 \U1