CHAPTER X.

POPULAR ESTIMATES OF PHYSICIANS.

There is no class of men whose talents and attainments are so

erroneously estimated by the public as are those of physicians. Some

of the causes of this erroneous estimate have been brought to view

in the chapters on the Uncertainty of Medicine, and on Good and Bad

Practice. I propose in this chapter to treat of this subject more

distinctly, to point out some other causes operating with those which

I have already mentioned, to show the results of this false estimate

of medical character and attainments, and to develope some plain

principles, on which a correct estimate may for the most part be

secured.

I presume it is sufficiently clear to the reader, from the views

which I have before presented, that the community cannot judge

with any degree of correctness _directly_, of the practice of

physicians,—either of the truth of the principles on which it is

based, or of its actual results.

How then shall the community judge of physicians? This question I

will endeavor to answer.

The view which I gave, in the first chapter, of the uncertainty of

medicine, I trust, made it obvious to the reader, that a thorough

education is pre-eminently necessary to the proper practice of the

medical art. In endeavoring therefore to form an estimate of the

qualifications of any physician, let the evidence of his having

obtained such an education be well considered.

But what is this evidence? Is it to be found in the bare fact

that he has a diploma, obtained from some respectable medical

institution? While a diploma is worth something as evidence, as

there must be some improvement of the means of education, in

order to pass the examination requisite to obtain it; yet it must

necessarily be defective evidence. That the truth may be more fully

ascertained, let the inquiry be made, how far the physician has

improved the advantages he has had; for it must be remembered, that

it is especially true of medicine, that a diligent and wise use of

limited opportunities will impart more knowledge and skill, than

can be acquired by a careless and unwise use of the most extensive

advantages afforded by the profession.

I will allow that there are difficulties in the way of arriving at

the truth in this inquiry, and the public are often most grossly

deceived by the parade which is made by some physicians, in regard to

the opportunities which they have enjoyed. Still, I apprehend, that

the erroneous judgment of the public in regard to such cases, arises

from a too ready confidence in mere pretensions, and that it can be

avoided for the most part by a little more pains-taking in making the

inquiry, and by applying tests of another character, to which I shall

soon allude.

But education in the science of medicine is practically despised by

quite a large portion of the community. Though this sentiment is not

often distinctly avowed, yet it exists to a greater extent than is

generally supposed. It shows itself in an indifference to the true

evidences of a physician’s qualifications, and in a readiness to put

the quack on a level with the thoroughly-educated physician, or even

above him. These indications of the prevalence of this sentiment, are

not confined to the ignorant; but they often appear among the well

informed, and even the learned.

Sometimes this sentiment is boldly avowed in language like the

following: ‘I care little about the evidence of a physician’s having

had an education. The fact that he is successful in treating disease

is worth vastly more than a piece of parchment. Many a man has risen

to eminence in other professions by his own exertions, without any

great amount of education; and why should not this be the case in

the practice of medicine? There was Franklin, who rose by his own

efforts to a post of honor and usefulness far above multitudes of

his cotemporaries, who had a most finished education; and why should

there not be Franklins in medicine, as well as in other departments

of knowledge?’

The assertion, that success in curing disease is worth more than a

piece of parchment, is strictly true. But the evidences, on which a

correct estimate of success can be formed, are not ordinarily, as the

reader has seen in the chapter on Good and Bad Practice, within the

reach of the community; and the attempts which it makes to form an

estimate from the defective evidence at its command, often result in

the bestowment of the praise due to success upon those who are really

unsuccessful.

As to the use which is made of so great a name as that of Franklin

to justify a disregard of education in medicine, I remark, that

those who hold such language forget three very plain truths. 1st.

That self-education is, after all that can be said, education. It

is education acquired in spite of difficulties, and without the

aids which men usually have. 2d. That education thus obtained

indicates the possession of _uncommon_ power of mind. There are but

few Franklins in any profession. It is not common for men to rise to

eminence with the small means which he enjoyed, and in face of the

difficulties which he encountered. 3d. That Franklin, and all those

men who have thus risen to eminence, so far from despising education,

made most diligent use of all the means of education which they could

command, aspiring all the time to higher and higher advantages; and

while they lamented the deficiencies of their own early training,

they labored most assiduously to give to others the most extensive

means of acquiring knowledge. Very different from this, I cannot

avoid remarking in this connexion, is the spirit of those pretenders

in medicine, who affect to despise education, and who claim that they

have an innate skill, which education can neither impart nor improve.

I shall in another chapter maintain, that it is both the duty and

the interest of the community, to demand that there shall be a

respectable standard of education in the medical profession, and will

therefore dismiss this topic for the present.

The second source of evidence, in regard to the qualifications of a

physician, is to be found in the unbiassed opinion of his medical

brethren. I allow that there are difficulties in the way of obtaining

such an opinion. There is, on the one hand, the prejudice of rivalry,

and, on the other, the partiality arising from mutual interest.

Sometimes these influences extend beyond the individual, and arrange

medical men in small parties, or cliques; and these often render it

exceedingly difficult to discover the standing which any physician

has among his brethren. Yet it is true, that every physician has a

general estimate put upon him by the profession, _and it is commonly

a correct one_. And this estimate can ordinarily be ascertained by

any one, who makes due allowance for the influences to which I have

alluded.

While this strictly professional reputation, which is awarded

to every physician by his brethren, is commonly very nearly

correspondent with his true merits, that which the public awards

to him may be far otherwise. It is often the case, that, while a

physician, of whom his brethren have an exalted opinion, meets with

but little favor from the community; another, who is a very ordinary

practitioner, and who is so considered by the profession at large,

has an extensive practice, and a high popular reputation. Such a

physician may be treated with much outward deference by his medical

brethren, on account of the position in which the public favor

has placed him; and this is often very erroneously considered as

evidence, that he is held in great estimation by the members of the

profession generally.

I pass now to the consideration of a means of estimating the

qualifications of physicians, which is of a more practical character,

and more certain in its results, than those which I have already

mentioned. And yet it is one which has been very generally neglected,

for reasons which I shall give in a future stage of my remarks.

There are certain mental qualities, which are essential to the

possession of skill in the practice of medicine. Whoever is found to

possess these qualities, you may be sure, will with proper education

make a good physician. And if they are wanting in any one, no

education, nor experience can supply the deficiency. He never can be

truly skilful as a physician; and if such an one acquire a reputation

for skill, which is no uncommon thing, all that we can say is, that

the public are deceived in their estimate of his qualifications.

How then can an intelligent man discover, whether a physician has

these requisite mental qualities, and to what extent he has them?

What tests can he apply to bring them out, so that he can see them

distinctly, and measure them with any good degree of accuracy?

The science of medicine is so much a mystery to the common observer,

that he cannot, as you have already seen, apply his tests to a direct

examination of the physician’s knowledge. He is not competent to make

the estimate in this way; and if he is not aware of this, he will

certainly be deceived. If he wishes effectually to avoid error, he

must apply a touchstone which he himself understands, and not one of

which he is profoundly ignorant. What is this touchstone? Plainly

this. _Let him observe the mental qualities of the physician, as they

are exhibited in regard to any subject, with which he is himself

familiar in common with the physician_; and he has here a test upon

which he may rely with absolute certainty. He discovers in this way

the character of the physician’s mind; and it is just to infer that

the mental qualities thus laid open to view, stamp their impress upon

the practice of his profession, and give to it its character. No

change comes over his mind when he passes from other subjects to that

of medicine. The same mental powers are there, and he will observe,

think reason, and act, just as you have seen him do in regard to

common subjects.

Take an illustration from surgery. You see a surgeon set a fractured

limb. You cannot judge whether he does it skilfully, because you

do not understand how it should be done, so as to bring the broken

ends accurately together, and keep them so. But if that surgeon,

in passing your house, by some accident breaks the thill of his

carriage, you can watch him as he splices the thill, and you can

judge, for you are competent to do so, whether he exhibits mechanical

talent in the operation. If he does, you can safely infer that the

same mechanical talent will be brought into exercise in setting a

bone, and that he will set it as skilfully as he spliced the thill.

Other talents in a medical man can be tested in a similar manner.

The truth, of which I have given this single illustration, is so

obvious when plainly stated that it hardly needs to be dwelt upon at

all; and yet, it is so often disregarded by the community, in the

estimates which are made of physicians, that it may be profitable to

illustrate it somewhat at large. In doing this we shall accomplish

another important purpose—we shall obtain a clear view of those

qualities which are most necessary in the particular calling of a

physician.

Let us then cursorily notice some prominent characteristics, as they

are seen in physicians in your daily intercourse with them on common

subjects, and apply the criterion which we have under consideration.

Look at the mode in which physicians form their opinions.

You discover in your conversations with a physician upon politics,

religion, or the occurrences of the day, that he is very credulous.

Have you a doubt that the same credulity follows him into a sick

room, and mars the accuracy of his observations of disease and of the

influence of remedies? And so, on the other hand, the physician who

shows a sceptical cast of mind on other subjects, will assuredly be a

doubter on a subject clothed with so much uncertainty as medicine is,

and his treatment of disease will be marked by hesitation and lack of

energy and firmness.

You see a physician apt to form his opinions on ordinary subjects

hastily. Slight evidence satisfies him, and he makes up his mind at

once. It may be that he does it with so much shrewdness that he is

very apt to be right in his conclusions; but sometimes he is entirely

wrong, because he has in his haste overlooked some apparently slight

circumstances which are really of vital importance. There is quite a

large class of such minds in the medical profession. They are better

fitted to practice in acute forms of disease than in chronic cases.

These latter require patient investigation to thread out all their

intricate complications.

I once knew two physicians of considerable eminence, who had directly

opposite casts of mind, in regard to the qualities to which I have

just alluded. They lived and practised in the same neighborhood

through a long life. The one would spend perhaps an hour in ferreting

out all the hidden labyrinths of a chronic case, and I have often

been delighted, as he would clearly and in choicest language unfold

his views, after he had concluded his examination. The other never

wanted more than a few minutes to learn all he wished to know

of a case, and he was prepared to act. Possessed of much native

shrewdness, it was astonishing to see how he would avoid error in

forming his hasty opinions. He seemed to be aware in what his forte

lay. He had an abhorrence of all long and intricate cases, and turned

them over, so far as he could, to his brethren; and he took peculiar

pleasure in managing acute cases, in which the changes were rapid,

and the end either for good or ill came soon.

You discover in your conversations with one physician on common

subjects, that he is very slow and cautious in adopting opinions, and

when he has once adopted them he adheres to them with great tenacity;

while another, on the contrary, is exceedingly changeable in his

opinions. These opposite qualities, exhibited as they are abroad in

society, go with them to the sick chamber, and they exert their full

influence. The one will fix upon a course of practice in a given case

with all due consideration, and when he has once fixed upon it, he

will pursue it most faithfully, even though the progress of the case

may furnish conclusive evidence that he is wrong. He will be blind to

that evidence, because he believes most assuredly that he is right in

his views of the case. The other will not pursue a course long enough

to determine whether it be right, but will see continual reasons

for change; and his course from the beginning to the end of a case

will often present a medley of variations, from which no intelligent

conclusions can be drawn. The one will have a few favorite remedies,

which he reckons as old and tried friends, and he adds but few to the

little group from year to year. The other will make frequent changes

in the remedies which he employs, and will try in rapid succession

the new medicines, which every fresh periodical bring to his notice.

Some men take strong views of everything which they see. They must

always have an opinion, whether the evidence upon which it is based

be sufficient or not; and that opinion fills the mind, and actuates

all the conduct. They are apt to have very partial and exclusive

views, overlooking in their ardor points, which, though they may

have little apparent prominence, may, if properly examined, lead to

discoveries of great importance. Such men in the medical profession

always make a decided impression upon the public mind, and have many

strong and ardent friends; and if they possess considerable talent,

they generally acquire a dazzling reputation. It is true that they

commit frequent and often great errors. But when their bold opinions

turn out to be correct, it adds wonderfully to their reputation for

acuteness and wisdom, while their errors are mostly concealed,

and the whisper that tells of those errors that chance to be

discovered, is effectually drowned in the noisy commendation of their

enthusiastic adherents.

If I at all succeeded in my object in the chapter on the Uncertainty

of Medicine, the reader was convinced that there is no pursuit in

which a habit of accurate observation is more needed than in the

practice of the medical art.

How then can a common observer test a physician in regard to this

talent? If the observer were himself a physician, he could do this

by watching him in his examinations of cases of disease. But as he

is not, and is therefore ignorant of the subjects to be examined,

he will fail in any attempt of this kind. He will be apt to commit,

for example, this error. He sees that a physician makes a great

many inquiries of his patients in regard to their complaints, and

he may for this reason alone conclude that he is a nice observer.

This minuteness of examination often gives a physician very unjustly

this reputation; and in fact it is one of the most common tricks of

the trade. There is often a great parade of questioning with very

little true observation. A physician who is a skilful observer will

learn more of a patient’s condition, by watching him as he lies in

bed, and making a few inquiries, than another will by a multitude

of questions; just as one man, who scarcely appears to look at

anything as he passes through a street, may really observe and

know more about the various objects in that street, than another

man, who appears with eyes wide open to look at everything. A mere

glance will sometimes reveal to the skilful observer the true nature

of the case, when the unskilful have not been able to discover it

with the most diligent examination of the symptoms. I will mention

a single example. A man who was severely sick was attended by two

physicians, who were somewhat at a loss in regard to the nature of

his disease. Another physician, who was called in, before asking a

single question, suspected from the posture of the patient that he

had a hernia, in common language a rupture; and on examination this

was found to be the case.

I might mention some other errors, to which the inquirer would be

liable, if he attempted to judge directly of the physician’s mode of

examining disease, but it is not necessary.

How then, the question recurs, shall he test the physician on the

point under consideration?

Let him see how the physician observes in regard to some subject,

with which he himself is acquainted. He will discover in this way

what his habits of observation are; and he may be sure, that these

same habits mark his investigations of disease in the chamber of

the sick. No man has different habits of observation for different

subjects.

Suppose that you have a curious article in your possession, and you

have become acquainted with all the facts in regard to it. If you

show it to several physicians, and observe the inquiries which they

make in relation to it, you can discover the different characters

of their minds, and may thus know how they observe and investigate

disease.

One of them asks perhaps but few questions, and some of those are

irrelevant. He discovers but little in regard to the article, and

you may be sure that he will never discover but little in regard to

disease.

Another, after making a few inquiries, starts some supposition or

theory, and this directs all his future inquiries. He of course

obtains a very partial knowledge of the facts, and this is mingled

with errors. And so it is with him in his investigation of medical

subjects. He is a theorizing practitioner.

Another makes many inquiries, but they are of a rambling character.

He finds out many of the facts in regard to the article, but

by no means all of them. His observation is active, but it is

without method and incomplete. Though he will be diligent in the

investigation of disease, and will appear to most persons to be an

acute and skilful observer, he never will obtain a thorough and

complete knowledge of any case.

Another, by a natural succession of inquiries, discovers one fact

after another, till he knows the whole. He does not ask a single

irrelevant question. The answer to every question either developes a

new fact, or confirms one already discovered. He separates accurately

the probable from the true, wholly rejecting the merely plausible.

He frames no theory. His search is only for facts. You may be sure

that he will be a skilful observer in the sick room, and that in the

investigation of disease he will be constantly adding to his store of

valuable and well-arranged facts.

Do you wish to ascertain what characterizes a physician’s _measures_

in the treatment of disease? Instead of watching his practice, of

which, as you have seen, you cannot judge with any good degree of

correctness, observe what measures he proposes when acting, not in

the capacity of a physician, but in that of a citizen, a neighbor,

a member of an association, and what reasons he gives for these

measures. If you find that he advocates measures which show common

sense, shrewdness, and good judgment, and which accomplish the

purpose aimed at; you may safely conclude that the same common sense,

shrewdness and good judgment mark his treatment of his patients, and

that he is a skilful and successful practitioner of medicine.

A very little thing will sometimes develope some characteristic of

a physician’s measures. A physician, as he starts his horse to

leave you after a pleasant chat, finds the rein caught under some

part of the harness. He pulls it up to disengage it; but, as he does

not succeed, he gives it a twitch in which he succeeds no better.

His face reddens, and he twitches again and again, each time more

violently, and finally, by tearing out a loop in his harness, he

disengages the rein. You may safely infer that that physician will

be apt to have just such twitching measures in his treatment of the

sick, and will in this way mar some things which are of some more

importance than the loops in his harness.

It is quite a prevalent idea in the community, that a man may be an

ignoramus in regard to other subjects, and yet may have great skill

in medicine. It is supposed that there is in the healing art a sort

of mysterious tact or skill, innate in the man, and not acquired

like other knowledge. It is this idea which gives such a reputation,

for infallibility almost, to the natural bone-setter. We find here,

also, the reason that intemperance in a physician so little impairs

the confidence of his employers. It must be obvious that in no

employment is a steady and clear state of mind more needed; and the

obscurity of mind and recklessness, which intoxication, even when

existing only in a slight degree, invariably produces, must unfit the

physician for the proper performance of his duties. And yet how many

sensible people, who would fear to trust an intemperate stage-driver

or engineer, will unhesitatingly commit their health and life to the

care of an intemperate physician, because they suppose that he has

a peculiar skill, of which even intoxication cannot deprive him.

His drunkenness seems to act as a dark background, making his skill

appear the brighter by contrast.[34]

In confirmation of this idea of the possession of innate skill, it

is said that a man may be a fool on one subject, and yet may be a

genius on another. A man may be, for instance, a great arithmetician,

or a very ingenious mechanic, and may yet exhibit folly on most

other subjects. This may be true in some few instances, but it is

not at all common; and rare cases never can establish a general

rule or principle. And besides, a genius in medicine, if he be a

mere genius, in the popular sense of the term, makes but a poor

practitioner. For true skill in the practice of medicine requires

the possession of a wide range of talents, and among these sound

judgment, or, (as it is familiarly called when used in reference

to ordinary subjects,) common sense, is pre-eminent. This is a

_sine qua non_ in the physician. The most brilliant talents cannot

make one a good practitioner without this qualification. They may

make him an interesting lecturer, or writer, and may give him a

high reputation in the community. But his lack of this practical

talent must render him unsuccessful in the treatment of disease,

and the lectures which he may give will be deficient in practical

instruction, and the books which he may write will add nothing to

that storehouse of facts, which come only from observation, guided by

a discriminating judgment, and plain common sense. He may construct

beautiful theories, and explain and defend them with ingenuity, but

he never can be a reliable source of instruction and information to

his medical brethren.

The reader has seen that there are then _five_ ways of judging of

the skill and the attainments of a physician. 1st. By examining his

opinions on medical subjects, and the reasons upon which they are

based. 2d. By observing his practice, and comparing its results

with those of the practice of others. 3d. By inquiring into the

evidences of his education. 4th. By observing the unbiassed opinions

entertained of him by his medical brethren. 5th. By observing his

mental qualities as they are exhibited in relation to those subjects

which the observer himself understands.

If the inquirer be a physician, he can very properly make use of the

two first-named means of arriving at the estimate. But if he be a

non-professional observer, he must for the most part give up these

means, as being liable to lead him into error, and resort to the

remaining ones. That he should _entirely_ give up the two first means

I do not claim. All that I claim is, that he should place very little

reliance upon them, while his chief reliance should be upon the three

last.

If intelligent men would adopt the course which I have indicated, in

their attempt to estimate the professional merits of physicians, they

would for the most part avoid the errors which they now so frequently

commit. But, as it now is, they very generally form their judgment

from a direct observation of medical practice, and from the reports

which their friends and acquaintances give of their observations;

and they make but slight use of those means of judging, which I have

shown to be the least liable to error. And I fear that they will be

slow to change in this respect, for the simple reason, that they will

be slow to admit their incompetence to sit in judgment on modes of

treating disease. Dr. Beddoes, an eminent English physician, once

remarked, that “there are three things which almost every person

gives himself credit for understanding, whether he has taken any

pains to make himself master of them or not, These are: 1. The art

of mending a dull fire: 2. Politics: and 3. PHYSIC.” And this is

especially true of the last of these. Both the well informed and the

ignorant seem to think, that they are perfectly competent to decide

whether a physician is treating a case properly; and watch the effect

of remedies in order to do this, and hesitate not to express their

opinions on this point in the most positive manner. So common and

inveterate is this habit in the community, that it will be difficult

to eradicate it. And yet I think it can in some good degree be done.

Intelligent men can be made to see, by a candid exposition of the

peculiar liability there is in medical experience to mistake in

regard to the relation between cause and effect, that it requires an

extensive knowledge of medicine to make accurate observations of the

influence of remedies; and that therefore one who has never studied

this science, and who has had but limited means of observation, must

be but a poor critic on the practice of physicians. They can see

that, though such an one may cope with others in the art of mending

a dull fire, or on the subject of politics, yet on so abstruse

a subject as medicine is, he ought to be somewhat modest in his

opinions, and not put them forth, as is now so often done, with all

the authority of an oracle.

Why then, let me ask, have not intelligent men been made to look upon

this subject in this light? This question I will endeavor to answer.

There is, in the first place, a large class in the medical

profession, who desire no change in the views of the community, but

prefer to maintain their present false position. Their success, like

that of the quack, actually depends on practising upon the credulity

of the public. They would dread being scrutinized in the way which I

have pointed out, by tests which the observer himself understands.

They would prefer that people should continue to judge of them as

they have done, by tests of which they are ignorant, because they can

in this way continue to deceive them. The number of such men in our

profession, I am sorry to say, is very large; and many of them have

an extensive practice, and stand high in the public favor, and for

this reason are quite indifferent both to their own standing with

their brethren, and to the general standing of the profession itself.

Though they do nothing perhaps which is sufficient to endanger their

loss of caste among physicians, their influence is detrimental to the

interests of the profession, and favors in the worst possible way the

hold of quackery upon the community.

There is another large class of medical men, who really desire to

be honorable in their course, but who have felt themselves obliged

to use to some extent the same arts with which the dishonorable

impose upon their patients. They feel that they cannot reform

public sentiment, but must take it as it is, and do the best they

can with it. They find whims and caprices and false ideas among the

intelligent, as well as the ignorant; and instead of taking any

pains to correct the evil, they succumb to it, and set themselves to

work to make capital out of it. They thus place themselves on common

ground with the quack and the pretender, and subject themselves to

be estimated by the same false rules which are applied to them. They

thus have almost insensibly contracted habits of low cunning and

shallow pretension; and these are habits which are not easily given

up. Of course this class of medical men will be inclined to look with

distrust upon any efforts to reform the profession, and the public,

in the particulars to which I have alluded; and, though they may not

actually oppose such efforts, or may from selfish motives even make a

show of favoring them in certain quarters, they cannot be expected to

give them any active support.

There is, however, one result of the course which this class of

medical men have pursued, which seems to be opening the eyes of the

most honorable among them, and which promises to bring them out from

their false and degrading position. They find that their cunning

subservience to the false opinions of the people, has increased the

hold of those opinions upon the public mind; and, as a wide door has

thus been opened for quackery, they find that the same arts, in using

which they have been so successful, are now used quite as dexterously

by the whole herd of ignorant quacks and showy pretenders. They find

that the Homœpathist is stealing away some of their best, and, as

they thought, their most reliable patients. The Thompsonian, the

Chrono-thermalist, &c., are committing similar depredations. And of

all this they have no right to complain, because these pretenders

obtain these patients by the same artful and deceptive means, by

which these physicians at first acquired them, and by which they have

so long retained them among their patrons.

The result which I have pointed out is an accumulated result. The

community are running wild now after various systems and modes of

practice, and the public mind is all afloat, carried about by every

wind of doctrine in medicine. It is now the hey-dey of quackery of

all kinds and degrees. The causes of the great prevalence of this

evil are not temporary and recent, but they have been acting for a

long time, and we now see the accumulated result. Among the chief of

these causes is the course which has been pursued by a large portion

of the medical profession. The profession itself has given birth to

much of the quackery of the present day.

The evil of this comes upon the profession generally, but more

particularly and grievously upon the class of physicians of which I

have just been speaking. The first class which I mentioned are not

as much affected, because, being less scrupulous, they have a wider

range of arts to be used; and the mortifications to which they are

subjected in their competition with quacks are more easily borne,

because they have less of honor and conscience to trouble them in

relation to their course. While this class will be utterly opposed

to any attempts at reform, the second class of which I have spoken,

seeing their false position, and beginning to suffer some of its

vexatious results, will probably experience a sifting process,

whenever efforts at reform shall be thoroughly entered upon. The

least honorable, and those whose habits of imposition (for such they

must be termed), have become fixed, will join the first class, giving

up all scruple, and adopting in full the measures of the quack and

charlatan. But I am persuaded, that the largest portion of this class

of practitioners have so much of honor and conscience, that, whenever

a general effort shall be made to redeem the profession from its

false position before the community, they will be ready to unite in

that effort.

But this effort is not to begin in this class. There is still another

class of physicians who are to originate it. They are the men in our

profession who have always pursued an honorable course, and have

never yielded to the temptations to use the arts of empiricism,

however strong they may have been—who, though they have often seen

their brethren use such arts successfully in their competition with

them without injuring their standing in the community, have never

allowed such mortifications to induce them to swerve from the path

of honor and duty. Efforts, it is true, have been made by such

physicians to enlighten the public mind in relation to its false

estimates of professional merit; but they have been for the most part

isolated and individual efforts, and they have soon been given up for

reasons to which I have before alluded. A general and united effort

is needed, and I have no doubt that it would be successful.

FOOTNOTES:

[34] We had some years ago, says Dr. Rush in one of his lectures,

a physician in this city of sprightly talents, who was an habitual

drunkard. Soon after his death, I was called to attend a gentleman

who had been one of his constant patients. He submitted with

reluctance to my prescriptions, because they were contrary to the

modes of practice of his former physician, to whom he was so much

attached, that he declared he would rather be prescribed for by him

when drunk, than by any sober physician in the city.

Physician and patient · 第 10 / 19 章