_It is a difficult matter to divest one’s self suddenly of a
passion of a long standing: but this you may effect, if you
desire it. This is the only thing that can preserve you, this
you must endeavour to bring about at any rate._
How sure should we be of curing the disorders of men of learning, if it
were possible to lull thought asleep. Here generous wines are of great
service, provided the lungs are still unaffected, and a slow heat does
not burn up the veins. Wholesome meats, and well boiled aliments, are of
great service: milk is likewise of great service, provided the stomach
is able to bear it. Riding is also useful. And it may be beneficial to
purge away the peccant matter by some gentle, strengthening remedy. BACON
recommends rhubarb. CELSUS, with more reason as I apprehend, recommended
aloes, the use of which is of great service to the learned. Let them not,
however, abuse an excellent remedy; for, though purges are sometimes
necessary, they are dangerous when too frequently used: for the body
begins to be disused to nourishment, and must of consequence grow weak.
But beware, you sick men, of too violent purging remedies; because, as
the intestines are often covered with mucus, this mucus is generally
soft, and easily removed; when it is removed, a softer sort succeeds in
its place; this badly defends the villous coat of the intestines; and,
when it is left without defence, it either occasions incessant pains, or
should be continually fomented by the tenderest sort of food.
The Peruvian bark or kinkina is here of the greatest efficacy imaginable;
in this case there is not a better remedy; it restores digestion,
strengthens the vessels, compresses the fluids, promotes secretions, and,
above all, perspiration, repairs the strength of the nerves, and quells
false motions. One of our most eminent geometricians soon repaired his
wasted powers by a large draught of the decoction of kinkina, which he
had constantly by his side.
If the constitution be not yet entirely broke, weakness oppresses the
stomach and the nerves, the learned are troubled with hysteric symptoms,
often attended with a vertigo, fainting fits, suffocation, and anxiety.
They are to be cured like women who are troubled with hysterics,
occasioned by mobility and want of tone in the fibres; they are to be
cured, I say, by bitters, ferulacious gums, myrrh, steel, and the cold
bath. The frequent use of the latter preserves a good state of health,
and repairs a broken constitution; for it is efficacious above all other
remedies, except there be already an extraordinary degree of weakness, in
strengthening the stomach, the nerves, and the whole body; it restores
sleep, produces a chearfulness and serenity of mind, and supplies new
strength to pursue new studies. This made the ancients set so high a
value upon it, that, even amidst the avocations of their necessary
business, they never failed to bathe every day: and I most earnestly
recommend to the literati the frequent use of bathing. I am not ignorant
that the ancients often used the warm bath, but they used it as a remedy
after exercise or fatigue; and it generally agrees very well with the
robust and active; but they restored their strength with cold baths.
AUGUSTUS, who received no benefit from the warm bath, when affected with
great weakness of body, was advised to have recourse to the cold bath by
ANTONIUS MUSA. Cold baths are salutary to delicate constitutions, and the
health of the learned is generally, though not always, as much hurt by
bathing in warm water, as promoted by bathing in cold.
Friction in a great measure produces the same effects with bathing; for
if the whole lower belly of a person, whilst he lies supine in bed in
the morning, with bent knees and an empty stomach, be rubbed all over
with a rough cloth, he will be greatly benefited by it: by this artifice
the motion in the abdomen is increased, the stagnant juices are thrown
out, the secretions are increased, the excrements are prevented from
staying too long in the body, and innumerable diseases are cured, which,
as you have been frequently told, are caused by a slow circulation. If
the skin is rubbed all over, either with a cloth or a flesh-brush, the
cuticular secretion is greatly promoted, the circulation of the blood is
so quickened, that a violent fever may be caused by rubbing alone, the
motion is increased in the smallest vessels, the strength is repaired,
and the ills caused by want of exercise are partly remedied. The ancients
were therefore right in setting a great value upon friction: it was
afterwards unhappily neglected; but the English physicians revived it
with great success; and there is no class of men to whom it may be of
greater service than to the studious. I would, however, recommend to
them not to use this kind of exercise till they have read what CELSUS and
GALEN have written concerning it.
There is another sort of remedy, which is often of the highest service
to men of learning, I mean chalybeate waters; but they should not send
for them, they should go where they are to be drunk at the fountain
head. I do not indeed despise those that are sent for; nay, I have known
men of learning who, by my advice, drank Seltzer waters at home during
the whole year, by which, and remitting somewhat of their application,
they recovered their health. But it is still better to drink them at
their source, for they are there in greater perfection; and the journey
is of service, because, whilst it lasts, the sick are exempt from all
domestick cares, are amused with a variety of objects, enjoy agreeable
company, relax their minds, and recreate their bodies: and the journey
alone is of so much service, that hypochondriac persons are often cured
by visiting remote libraries.
It would be as useless as it is impossible to enumerate all the waters
that may be of service in repairing broken constitutions; for what nature
intended as a most salutary remedy, it has liberally bestowed upon most
regions. There are many in Switzerland; those of Aquia in Savoy, in my
neighbourhood, deserve high praises; our waters of Rotula are still
more to be recommended on account of the agreeableness of the place
than their salubrious qualities; we must not forget those of Lausanne,
the virtues of which have been demonstrated to me both by analysis and
frequent observation; but the Seltzer waters surpass them all, at least
in their reputation, if not in their qualities; those of Schwalbach and
Spaw are still more powerful; and the Pyrmont waters are inferior to none.
These are not all, but the principal remedies by which those disorders
may be cured which men of learning bring upon themselves by over great
application: but their disorders are not occasioned by study alone: as
men they are subject to all the disorders of men; and then they should be
treated according to the rules laid down by experience for curing each
disorder. Physicians, however, should never forget, that the patient,
whom they have under their care, is a man of learning, and cannot, of
consequence, have the same strength with which most other men are endued:
as they have relaxed fibres and thin blood, they are not so capable of
bearing phlebotomy: but the intestines are often filled with a collection
of filth, which must be purged off; so that, as the illustrious RAMAZZINI
has long since observed, it is better to have recourse to other
evacuations with them than to bleeding.
Care should be always taken of the head of a learned patient, because it
is easily disturbed, and grows delirious. This is of very bad consequence
in disorders; for peevishness increases, which few learned patients are
without; and, whilst the brain is agitated by a delirium, the necessary
action of the nerves upon the body becomes slow, and so the powers of
nature, which can alone effect a cure, are destroyed.
If the patient was afflicted before with nervous disorders, these soon
cause sufferings of a peculiar sort: the learned, when they are ill,
cannot bear too much light, nor noise, nor a crowd of spectators. I have
often seen, upon the fever’s beginning to cease, new symptoms occur,
which appear to be very bad, but are in fact only nervous.
Men of learning cannot well bear strong and powerful remedies.
Their recovery is always tedious, and it requires extraordinary care: the
strength returns slowly; the faculties of the mind, above all, are long
in a wavering condition; and I have scarce ever known a man of learning
recover out of a disorder, without complaining of his memory’s being
impaired, and a sort of weakness of the head discoverable in the face
itself. Those little consult their own interest, who immediately return
to their studies, and that before their strength is renewed: they prepare
to themselves a sore repentance: the ill consequences are felt by their
heads, their eyes, and their stomachs, which must greatly suffer, if,
whilst they stand in need of the assistance of the nerves, to digest the
remedies they take, the mind should at so improper a time make use of
them. I have often found, that the exercises of the mind so weaken the
sensibility and motion of the stomach and intestines, that the power of
purgatives is entirely counteracted by meditation and constant study.
Learned patients, when just out of a disorder, recover their sleep very
slowly, and it often is not to be recovered without the assistance of
wine, which is of wonderful efficacy in this case, by restoring a due
tone to the stomach, debilitated by warm liquors; firmness to the nerves,
strength to the whole body, and spirits to the dejected mind.
Thus have I laid open the causes of disorders, their symptoms, and the
method of avoiding them: in fine, I have compleated my design to the
best of my power; and you with joy perceive my discourse approaching to a
conclusion, respectable auditors. I am aware, however, that you will not
dismiss me, till I have atoned for a grievous omission; nor do I intend
to disappoint your expectation: I shall therefore now discover the grand
arcanum of the art of preserving health, which I have hitherto concealed:
attend to my words. Chearfulness of temper is the source of health, and
a virtuous life is the source of chearfulness: a good conscience, a mind
pure and clear of all contagion, are the best preservatives of health;
and if the learned were without them, it would be a shame: for of what
use is learning without wisdom?
_Quid musæ sine moribus_
_Vanæ proficiant?_
_Of what service are the muses without the aid of virtue?_
What else is knowledge but to be wise? Were not the learned in former
ages wise? Knowledge alone is of no avail. I have no manner of esteem
for those doctors, who inquire what is virtuous and becoming, entirely
taken up with moral contemplations, and who, though they see good, follow
evil courses. Woe be to them! they will suffer severely for their bad
conduct. Consider the force of the passions: those which affect the mind
agreeably, promote a good state of health; which those of a contrary
nature destroy. But what affects the mind more agreeably than the
remembrance of a life well spent?
_Omnem crede diem diluxisse supremum._
_Look upon every day that’s past as the last of your life._
Cruel remorse of conscience, on the other hand, destroys the powers both
of mind and body; because the mind being a prey to grief, such is the
will of the Author of nature, the fibres are relaxed, and both health and
beauty vanish. I cannot without horror recollect the shocking inquietudes
of some men, who, having abused the gifts of God, could not, without
inexpressible terror, see death approach, which renders the Deity more
awful. On the other hand, I cannot without joy revolve in my memory
the happy deaths of some good men, who, as they had passed their whole
lives in the practice of virtue, returned with joy to the Fountain of all
good, having laid aside their terrestrial covering, and crowned a happy
life with a joyful death. How properly does the learned doctor, lately
professor of divinity in this academy, occur to me in this place, who,
after having suffered the cruel torments of a dreadful disease, during
the course of a twelvemonth, with wonderful resolution and patience,
after a few friendly and pious conversations with his wife and children,
whilst he testified his gratitude to me for my care, and expressed his
good wishes, expired with religious composure. And why should I forget
you, learned, dear, and now happy uncle and Mentor, who, having lived
your whole life, whilst in health, as we promise to live when we are ill,
enjoying, to an advanced age, a conscience void of offence, a genius
replete with vigour, and faculties acute and penetrating; not only taught
us how to live virtuously, but likewise have instructed us how to die
well.
But it is time for me to put an end to my wandering discourse; for I am
ashamed to detain you any longer, respectable auditors.
Farewell, therefore, most illustrious president, whose extraordinary
humanity, gentle manners, and uncorrupt integrity, all are unanimous in
praising. How agreeable to me was it to be chosen upon this occasion
by you, whose friendship, having so often experienced, I am so happy
as to experience again. But how can I address you, without at the same
time thinking of that prince whom you represent amongst us with so much
applause; and this remembrance fills me with emotion. For he is the
prince to whom I am indebted for so many favours. It is he who recalled
me, out of love to my country, when I was on the point of quitting it at
the invitation of a great monarch; recalled me, I say; and, remembering
my attachment to physic, founded this professorship, and bestowed it upon
me, not without the most honourable tokens of his benevolence; and, by
enrolling me in your illustrious assembly, learned professors, he enabled
me to address you by the dear appellation of colleagues. Vouchsafe,
therefore, favourably to receive him whom he has given you as a companion
of your labours, and receive me, most honoured colleagues, in the same
disposition of mind with which I come towards you; and shew as much
benevolence, facility, and readiness to assist me, as I am ready to shew
you veneration, obsequiousness, and docility.
Citizens and strangers, illustrious for your great virtues, your
extraordinary intellectual endowments, and the high offices you fill, the
friendship of many of whom I cultivate with pleasure, receive my thanks
for the benevolence with which you have heard me. Finally, I address
myself to you, you studious youth, hope of your country and of the
church, and ornament of the academy; whatever learning or genius I am
possessed of,
_Et quicquid in arte mea possum promittere curæ_,
_And whatever assistance I can promise by my art_;
which I am sensible is but small, and I am sorry for it; but, such as it
is, I entirely dedicate and consecrate it to you. It will give me the
highest satisfaction, if it can be of any service to you; but how would
it grieve me, if, by misunderstanding my discourse, you should be hurt
instead of being benefited by it. Take care therefore, virtuous youths;
my design was to shew the dangers of an obstinate perseverance in study;
but I was quite silent with regard to the use of polite learning,
_which[51] nourishes youth, delights old age, adorns prosperity, affords
consolation in adversity, delights at home, is no hindrance abroad,
passes the night with us, travels with us, accompanies us into the
country_. I have proved by examples, how dangerous it is to fatigue the
minds of children with too great labour; but it was not my intention
to banish all labour and study. “Nam certe quamlibet parum sit, quod
contulerit ætas prior, majora tamen aliqua discet puer eo ipso anno,
quo minora didicisset. Hoc per singulos annos prorogatum in summam
proficit: & quantum in infantia præsumptum est temporis, adolescentiæ
acquiritur[52].” “For though what is contributed by the first age of
life is but inconsiderable, a boy will certainly learn some things of
consequence in the very year that he learns trifles. This, increasing
every year, will at last improve him, and what is learned in infancy is
an acquisition to youth.” It is dangerous to break upon the rocks of too
great learning; it is shameful to be wrecked upon the opposite shore.
What path then must you tread? _Hac urget lupus, hac canis angit._ _On
one side the wolf urges, on t’other the dog worries us._ You will be safe
in the middle path, always remembering that sentence of your favourite
HORACE:
_Est modus in rebus sunt certi denique fines,_
_Quos ultra citraque nequit consistere rectum._
_Some certain mean in all things may be found,_
_To mark our virtue, and our vices bound._
FRANCIS’S Horace, lib. I. sat. I.