Chapter I

GALEN

ON THE NATURAL FACULTIES

WITH AN ENGLISH TRANSLATION BY

ARTHUR JOHN BROCK, M.D.

EDINBURGH

LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN

NEW YORK: G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS

MCMXVI

PREFACE

The text used is (with a few unimportant modifications) that of Kühn

(Vol. II), as edited by Georg Helmreich; Teubner, Leipzig, 1893. The

numbers of the pages of Kühn's edition are printed at the side of the

Greek text, a parallel mark (||) in the line indicating the exact

point of division between Kühn's pages.

Words in the English text which are enclosed in square brackets are

supplementary or explanatory; practically all explanations, however,

are relegated to the footnotes or introduction. In the footnotes,

also, attention is drawn to words which are of particular philological

interest from the point of view of modern medicine.

I have made the translation directly from the Greek; where passages of

special difficulty occurred, I have been able to compare my own

version with Linacre's Latin translation (1523) and the French

rendering of Charles Daremberg (1854-56); in this respect I am also

peculiarly fortunate in having had the help of Mr. A. W. Pickard

Cambridge of Balliol College, Oxford, who most kindly went through the

proofs and made many valuable suggestions from the point of view of

exact scholarship.

My best thanks are due to the Editors for their courtesy and for the

kindly interest they have taken in the work. I have also gratefully to

acknowledge the receipt of much assistance and encouragement from Sir

William Osler, Regius Professor of Medicine at Oxford, and from

Dr. J. D. Comrie, first lecturer on the History of Medicine at Edinburgh

University. Professor D'Arcy W. Thompson of University College,

Dundee, and Sir W. T. Thiselton-Dyer, late director of the Royal

Botanic Gardens at Kew, have very kindly helped me to identify several

animals and plants mentioned by Galen.

I cannot conclude without expressing a word of gratitude to my former

biological teachers, Professors Patrick Geddes and J. Arthur Thomson.

The experience reared on the foundation of their teaching has gone far

to help me in interpreting the great medical biologist of Greece.

I should be glad to think that the present work might help, however

little, to hasten the coming reunion between the "humanities" and

modern biological science; their present separation I believe to be

against the best interest of both.

A. J. B.

22nd Stationary Hospital, Aldershot.

_March_, 1916.

CONTENTS

PAGE

PREFACE v

INTRODUCTION ix

BIBLIOGRAPHY xli

SYNOPSIS OF CHAPTERS xliii

BOOK I 1

BOOK II 115

BOOK III 221

INDEX AND GLOSSARY 333

INTRODUCTION

[Sidenote: Hippocrates and Galen.]

If the work of Hippocrates be taken as representing the foundation

upon which the edifice of historical Greek medicine was reared, then

the work of Galen, who lived some six hundred years later, may be

looked upon as the summit or apex of the same edifice. Galen's merit

is to have crystallised or brought to a focus all the best work of the

Greek medical schools which had preceded his own time. It is

essentially in the form of Galenism that Greek medicine was

transmitted to after ages.

[Sidenote: The Beginnings of Medicine in Greece.]

The ancient Greeks referred the origins of medicine to a god Asklepios

(called in Latin Aesculapius), thereby testifying to their

appreciation of the truly divine function of the healing art. The

emblem of Aesculapius, familiar in medical symbolism at the present

day, was a staff with a serpent coiled round it, the animal typifying

wisdom in general, and more particularly the wisdom of the

medicine-man, with his semi-miraculous powers over life and death.

"_Be ye therefore wise as serpents and harmless as doves._"

[Sidenote: The Asclepiea or Health-Temples.]

The temples of Aesculapius were scattered over the ancient Hellenic

world. To them the sick and ailing resorted in crowds. The treatment,

which was in the hands of an hereditary priesthood, combined the best

of the methods carried on at our present-day health-resorts, our

hydropathics, sanatoriums, and nursing-homes. Fresh air, water-cures,

massage, gymnastics, psychotherapy, and natural methods in general

were chiefly relied on.

[Sidenote: Hippocrates and the Unity of the Organism.]

Hippocrates, the "Father of Medicine" (5th to 4th centuries, B.C.) was

associated with the Asclepieum of Cos, an island off the south-west

coast of Asia Minor, near Rhodes. He apparently revitalized the work

of the health-temples, which had before his time been showing a

certain decline in vigour, coupled with a corresponding excessive

tendency towards sophistry and priestcraft.

Celsus says: "_Hippocrates Cous primus quidem ex omnibus memoria

dignis ab studio sapientiae disciplinam hanc separavit_." He means

that Hippocrates first gave the physician an independent standing,

separating him from the cosmological speculator. Hippocrates confined

the medical man to medicine. He did with medical thought what Socrates

did with thought in general--he "brought it down from heaven to

earth." His watchword was "Back to Nature!"

At the same time, while assigning the physician his post, Hippocrates

would not let him regard that post as sacrosanct. He set his face

against any tendency to mystery-mongering, to exclusiveness, to

sacerdotalism. He was, in fact, opposed to the spirit of

trade-unionism in medicine. His concern was rather with the

physician's duties than his "rights."

At the dawn of recorded medical history Hippocrates stands for the

fundamental and primary importance of _seeing clearly_--that is of

_clinical observation_. And what he observed was that the human

organism, when exposed to certain abnormal conditions--certain

stresses--tends to behave in a certain way: that in other words, each

"disease" tends to run a certain definite course. To him a disease was

essentially a process, one and indivisible, and thus his practical

problem was essentially one of _prognosis_--"what will be the natural

course of this disease, if left to itself?" Here he found himself to

no small extent in opposition with the teaching of the neighbouring

medical school of Cnidus, where a more static view-point laid special

emphasis upon the minutiae of _diagnosis_.

Observation taught Hippocrates to place unbounded faith in the

recuperative powers of the living organism--in what we sometimes call

nowadays the _vis medicatrix Naturae_. His observation was that even

with a very considerable "abnormality" of environmental stress the

organism, in the large majority of cases, manages eventually by its

own inherent powers to adjust itself to the new conditions. "Merely

give Nature a chance," said the father of medicine in effect, "and

most diseases will cure themselves." And accordingly his treatment

was mainly directed towards "giving Nature a chance."

His keen sense of the solidarity (or rather, of the constant

interplay) between the organism and its environment (the "conditions"

to which it is exposed) is instanced in his book, "Airs, Waters, and

Places." As we recognise, in our popular everyday psychology, that "it

takes two to make a quarrel," so Hippocrates recognised that in

pathology, it takes two (organism and environment) to make a disease.

As an outstanding example of his power of clinical observation we may

recall the _facies Hippocratica_, an accurate study of the countenance

of a dying man.

His ideals for the profession are embodied in the "Hippocratic oath."

[Sidenote: Anatomy.]

Impressed by this view of the organism as a unity, the Hippocratic

school tended in some degree to overlook the importance of its

constituent _parts_. The balance was re-adjusted later on by the

labours of the anatomical school of Alexandria, which, under the aegis

of the enlightened Ptolemies, arose in the 3rd century B.C. Two

prominent exponents of anatomy belonging to this school were

Herophilus and Erasistratus, the latter of whom we shall frequently

meet with in the following pages (_v._ p. 95 _et seq._).

[Sidenote: The Empirics.]

After the death of the Master, the Hippocratic school tended, as so

often happens with the best of cultural movements, to show signs

itself of diminishing vitality: the letter began to obscure and hamper

the spirit. The comparatively small element of theory which existed in

the Hippocratic physiology was made the groundwork of a somewhat

over-elaborated "system." Against this tendency on the part of the

"Dogmatic" or "Rationalist" school there arose, also at Alexandria,

the sect of the Empiricists. "It is not," they said, "the cause but

the cure of diseases that concerns us; not how we digest, but what is

digestible."

[Sidenote: Greek Medicine in Rome.]

Horace said "_Graecia capta ferum victorem cepit_." Political

domination, the occupation of territory by armies, does not

necessarily mean real conquest. Horace's statement applied to medicine

as to other branches of culture.

The introducer of Greek medicine into Rome was Asclepiades (1st

century B.C.). A man of forceful personality, and equipped with a

fully developed philosophic system of health and disease which

commended itself to the Roman _savants_ of the day, he soon attained

to the pinnacle of professional success in the Latin capital: he is

indeed to all time the type of the fashionable (and somewhat "faddy")

West-end physician. His system was a purely mechanistic one, being

based upon the atomic doctrine of Leucippus and Democritus, which had

been completed by Epicurus and recently introduced to the Roman public

in Lucretius's great poem "_De Rerum Natura_." The disbelief of

Asclepiades in the self-maintaining powers of the living organism are

exposed and refuted at considerable length by Galen in the volume

before us.

[Sidenote: The Methodists.]

Out of the teaching of Asclepiades that physiological processes depend

upon the particular way in which the ultimate indivisible molecules

come together ([Greek: en tê poia synodô tôn prôtôn ekeinôn sômatôn

tôn apathôn]) there was developed by his pupil, Themison of Laodicea,

a system of medicine characterised by the most engaging simplicity

both of diagnosis and treatment. This so-called "Methodic" system was

intended to strike a balance between the excessive leaning to

apriorism shown by the Rationalist (Hippocratic) school and the

opposite tendency of the Empiricists. "A pathological theory we must

have," said the Methodists in effect, "but let it be simple." They

held that the molecular groups constituting the tissues were traversed

by minute channels ([Greek: poroi], "pores"); all diseases belonged to

one or other of two classes; if the channels were constricted the

disease was one of _stasis_ ([Greek: stegnôsis]), and if they were

dilated the disease was one of _flux_ ([Greek: rhysis]). Flux and

stasis were indicated respectively by increase and diminution of the

natural secretions; treatment was of opposites by opposites--of

stasis by methods causing dilatation of the channels, and conversely.

Wild as it may seem, this pathological theory of the Methodists

contained an element of truth; in various guises it has cropped up

once and again at different epochs of medical history; even to-day

there are pathologists who tend to describe certain classes of disease

in terms of vaso-constriction and vaso-dilatation. The vice of the

Methodist teaching was that it looked on a disease too much as

something fixed and finite, an independent _entity_, to be considered

entirely apart from its particular setting. The Methodists illustrate

for us the tyranny of _names_. In its defects as in its virtues this

school has analogues at the present day; we are all acquainted with

the medical man to whom a name (such, let us say, as "tuberculosis,"

"gout," or "intestinal auto-intoxication") stands for an entity, one

and indivisible, to be treated by a definite and unvarying formula.

To such an individual the old German saying "_Jedermann hat am Ende

ein Bischen Tuberkulose_" is simply--incomprehensible.

[Sidenote: Galen.]

All the medical schools which I have mentioned were still holding

their ground in the 2nd century A.D., with more or less popular

acceptance, when the great Galen made his entry into the world of

Graeco-Roman medicine.

[Sidenote: His Nature and Nurture.]

Claudius Galenus was born at Pergamos in Asia Minor in the year

A.D. His father was one Nicon, a well-to-do architect of that city. "I

had the great good fortune," says Galen,[1] "to have as a father a

highly amiable, just, good, and benevolent man. My mother, on the

other hand, possessed a very bad temper; she used sometimes to bite

her serving-maids, and she was perpetually shouting at my father and

quarrelling with him--worse than Xanthippe with Socrates. When,

therefore, I compared the excellence of my father's disposition with

the disgraceful passions of my mother, I resolved to embrace and love

the former qualities, and to avoid and hate the latter."

Nicon called his son [Greek: Galênos], which means _quiet, peaceable_,

and although the physician eventually turned out to be a man of

elevated character, it is possible that his somewhat excessive leaning

towards controversy (exemplified in the following pages) may have

resulted from the fact that he was never quite able to throw off the

worst side of the maternal inheritance.

His father, a man well schooled in mathematics and philosophy, saw to

it that his son should not lack a liberal education. Pergamos itself

was an ancient centre of civilisation, containing, among other

culture-institutions, a library only second in importance to that of

Alexandria itself; it also contained an Asclepieum.

Galen's training was essentially eclectic: he studied all the chief

philosophical systems of the time--Platonic, Aristotelian, Stoic, and

Epicurean--and then, at the age of seventeen, entered on a course of

medical studies; these he pursued under the best teachers at his own

city, and afterwards, during a period of _Wanderjahre_, at Smyrna,

Alexandria, and other leading medical centres.

Returning to Pergamos, he received his first professional

appointment--that of surgeon to the gladiators. After four years here

he was drawn by ambition to Rome, being at that time about thirty-one

years of age. At Rome the young Pergamene attained a brilliant

reputation both as a practitioner and as a public demonstrator of

anatomy; among his patients he finally numbered even the Emperor

Marcus Aurelius himself.

Medical practice in Rome at this time was at a low ebb, and Galen took

no pains to conceal his contempt for the ignorance, charlatanism, and

venality of his fellow-practitioners. Eventually, in spite of his

social popularity, he raised up such odium against himself in medical

circles, that he was forced to flee the city. This he did hurriedly

and secretly in the year 168 A.D., when thirty-six years of age. He

betook himself to his old home at Pergamos, where he settled down once

more to a literary life.

His respite was short, however, for within a year he was summoned back

to Italy by imperial mandate. Marcus Aurelius was about to undertake

an expedition against the Germans, who at that time were threatening

the northern frontiers of the Empire, and he was anxious that his

consulting physician should accompany him to the front. "Patriotism"

in this sense, however, seems to have had no charms for the Pergamene,

and he pleaded vigorously to be excused. Eventually, the Emperor gave

him permission to remain at home, entrusting to his care the young

prince Commodus.

Thereafter we know little of Galen's history, beyond the fact that he

now entered upon a period of great literary activity. Probably he died

about the end of the century.

[Sidenote: Subsequent History of Galen's Works.]

Galen wrote extensively, not only on anatomy, physiology, and medicine

in general, but also on logic; his logical proclivities, as will be

shown later, are well exemplified in his medical writings. A

considerable number of undoubtedly genuine works of his have come down

to us. The full importance of his contributions to medicine does not

appear to have been recognized till some time after his death, but

eventually, as already pointed out, the terms Galenism and Greek

medicine became practically synonymous.

A few words may be devoted to the subsequent history of his writings.

[Sidenote: Byzantine Medicine.]

During and after the final break-up of the Roman Empire came times or

confusion and of social reconstruction, which left little opportunity

for scientific thought and research. The Byzantine Empire, from the

4th century onwards, was the scene of much internal turmoil, in which

the militant activities of the now State-established Christian church

played a not inconsiderable part. The Byzantine medical scholars

were at best compilers, and a typical compiler was Oribasius,

body-physician to the Emperor Julian (4th century, A.D.); his

excellent _Synopsis_ was written in order to make the huge mass of

the Galenic writings available for the ordinary practitioner.

[Sidenote: Arabian Medicine.]

Greek medicine spread, with general Greek culture, throughout Syria,

and from thence was carried by the Nestorians, a persecuted heretical

sect, into Persia; here it became implanted, and hence eventually

spread to the Mohammedan world. Several of the Prophet's successors

(such as the Caliphs Harun-al-Rashid and Abdul-Rahman III) were great

patrons of Greek learning, and especially of medicine. The Arabian

scholars imbibed Aristotle and Galen with avidity. A partial

assimilation, however, was the farthest stage to which they could

attain; with the exception of pharmacology, the Arabians made

practically no independent additions to medicine. They were

essentially systematizers and commentators. "_Averrois che il gran

comento feo_"[2] may stand as the type _par excellence_ of the Moslem

sage.

Avicenna (Ebn Sina), (10th to 11th century) is the foremost name in

Arabian medicine: his "Book of the Canon in Medicine," when translated

into Latin, even overshadowed the authority of Galen himself for some

four centuries. Of this work the medical historian Max Neuburger says:

"Avicenna, according to his lights, imparted to contemporary medical

science the appearance of almost mathematical accuracy, whilst the art

of therapeutics, although empiricism did not wholly lack recognition,

was deduced as a logical sequence from theoretical (Galenic and

Aristotelian) premises."

[Sidenote: Introduction of Arabian Medicine to the West.

Arabo-Scholastic Period.]

Having arrived at such a condition in the hands of the Mohammedans,

Galenism was now destined to pass once more to the West. From the 11th

century onwards Latin translations of this "Arabian" Medicine (being

Greek medicine in oriental trappings) began to make their way into

Europe; here they helped to undermine the authority of the one medical

school of native growth which the West produced during the Middle

Ages--namely the School of Salerno.

Blending with the Scholastic philosophy at the universities of Naples

and Montpellier, the teachings of Aristotle and Galen now assumed a

position of supreme authority: from their word, in matters scientific

and medical, there was no appeal. In reference to this period the

Pergamene was referred to in later times as the "Medical Pope of the

Middle Ages."

It was of course the logical side of Galenism which chiefly commended

it to the mediaeval Schoolmen, as to the essentially speculative

Moslems.

[Sidenote: The Renascence.]

The year 1453, when Constantinople fell into the hands of the Turks,

is often taken as marking the commencement of the Renascence. Among

the many factors which tended to stimulate and awaken men's minds

during these spacious times was the rediscovery of the Greek classics,

which were brought to Europe by, among others, the scholars who fled

from Byzantium. The Arabo-Scholastic versions of Aristotle and Galen

were now confronted by their Greek originals. A passion for Greek

learning was aroused. The freshness and truth of these old writings

helped to awaken men to a renewed sense of their own dignity and

worth, and to brace them in their own struggle for self-expression.

Prominent in this "Humanist" movement was the English physician,

Thomas Linacre (_c._ 1460-1524) who, having gained in Italy an

extraordinary zeal for the New Learning, devoted the rest of his life,

after returning to England, to the promotion of the _litterae

humaniores_, and especially to making Galen accessible to readers of

Latin. Thus the "_De Naturalibus Facultatibus_" appeared in London in

1523, and was preceded and followed by several other translations,

all marked by minute accuracy and elegant Latinity.

Two new parties now arose in the medical world--the so-called "Greeks"

and the more conservative "Arabists."

[Sidenote: Paracelsus.]

But the swing of the pendulum did not cease with the creation of the

liberal "Greek" party; the dazzling vision of freedom was to drive

some to a yet more anarchical position. Paracelsus, who flourished in

the first half of the 16th century, may be taken as typifying this

extremist tendency. His one cry was, "Let us away with all authority

whatsoever, and get back to Nature!" At his first lecture as professor

at the medical school of Basle he symbolically burned the works of

Galen and of his chief Arabian exponent, Avicenna.

[Sidenote: The Renascence Anatomists.]

But the final collapse of authority in medicine could not be brought

about by mere negativism. It was the constructive work of the

Renascence anatomists, particularly those of the Italian school, which

finally brought Galenism to the ground.

Vesalius (1514-64), the modern "Father of Anatomy," for dissecting

human bodies, was fiercely assailed by the hosts of orthodoxy,

including that stout Galenist, his old teacher Jacques Dubois (Jacobus

Sylvius). Vesalius held on his way, however, proving, _inter alia_,

that Galen had been wrong in saying that the interventricular septum

of the heart was permeable (_cf._ present volume, p. 321).

Michael Servetus (1509-53) suggested that the blood, in order to get

from the right to the left side of the heart, might have to pass

through the lungs. For his heterodox opinions he was burned at the

stake.

Another 16th-century anatomist, Andrea Cesalpino, is considered by the

Italians to have been a discoverer of the circulation of the blood

before Harvey; he certainly had a more or less clear idea of the

circulation, but, as in the case of the "organic evolutionists before

Darwin," he failed to prove his point by conclusive demonstration.

[Sidenote: William Harvey (1578-1657).]

William Harvey, the great Englishman who founded modern experimental

physiology and was the first to establish not only the fact of the

circulation but also the physical laws governing it, is commonly

reckoned the Father of Modern Medicine. He owed his interest in the

movements of the blood to Fabricio of Acquapendente, his tutor at

Padua, who drew his attention to the valves in the veins, thus

suggesting the idea of a circular as opposed to a to-and-fro motion.

Harvey's great generalisation, based upon a long series of experiments

_in vivo_, was considered to have given the _coup de grâce_ to the

Galenic physiology, and hence threw temporary discredit upon the whole

system of medicine associated therewith.

Modern medicine, based upon a painstaking research into the details

of physiological function, had begun.

[Sidenote: Back to Galen!]

While we cannot sufficiently commend the results of the long modern

period of research-work to which the labours of the Renascence

anatomists from Vesalius to Harvey form a fitting prelude, we yet by

no means allow that Galen's general medical outlook was so entirely

invalidated as many imagine by the conclusive demonstration of his

anatomical errors. It is time for us now to turn to Galen again after

three hundred years of virtual neglect: it may be that he will help us

to see something fundamentally important for medical practice which is

beyond the power even of our microscopes and _X_-rays to reveal. While

the value of his work undoubtedly lies mainly in its enabling us to

envisage one of the greatest of the early steps attained by man in

medical knowledge, it also has a very definite intrinsic value of its

own.

[Sidenote: Galen's Debt to his Precursors.]

No attempt can be made here to determine how much of Galen's work is,

in the true sense of the word, original, and how much is drawn from

the labours of his predecessors. In any case, there is no doubt that

he was much more than a mere compiler and systematizer of other men's

work: he was great enough to be able not merely to collect, to digest,

and to assimilate all the best of the work done before his time, but,

adding to this the outcome of his own observations, experiments, and

reflections, to present the whole in an articulated "system" showing

that perfect balance of parts which is the essential criterion of a

work of art. Constantly, however, in his writings we shall come across

traces of the influence of, among others, Plato, Aristotle, and

writers of the Stoic school.

[Sidenote: Influence of Hippocrates on Galen.]

Although Galen is an eclectic in the best sense of influence of the

term, there is one name to which he pays a very special tribute--that

of his illustrious forerunner Hippocrates. Him on quite a number of

occasions he actually calls "divine" (_cf._ p. 293).

"Hippocrates," he says, "was the first known to us of all who have

been both physicians and philosophers, in that _he was the first to

recognise what nature does_." Here is struck the keynote of the

teaching of both Hippocrates and Galen; this is shown in the volume

before us, which deals with "the _natural_ faculties"--that is with

the faculties of this same "Nature" or vital principle referred to in

the quotation.

[Sidenote: "The Natural Faculties."]

If Galen be looked on as a crystallisation of Greek medicine, then

this book may be looked on as a crystallisation of Galen. Within its

comparatively short compass we meet with instances illustrating

perhaps most of the sides of this many-sided writer. The "Natural

Faculties" therefore forms an excellent prelude to the study of his

larger and more specialised works.

[Sidenote: Galen's "Physiology."]

What, now, is this "Nature" or biological principle upon which Galen,

like Hippocrates, bases the whole of his medical teaching, and which,

we may add, is constantly overlooked--if indeed ever properly

apprehended--by many physiologists of the present day? By using this

term Galen meant simply that, when we deal with a living thing, we are

dealing primarily with a unity, which, _quâ_ living, is not further

divisible; all its parts can only be understood and dealt with as

being _in relation to_ this principle of unity. Galen was thus led to

criticise with considerable severity many of the medical and surgical

specialists of his time, who acted on the assumption (implicit if not

explicit) that the whole was merely the sum of its parts, and that if,

in an ailing organism, these parts were treated each in and for

itself, the health of the whole organism could in this way be

eventually restored.

Galen expressed this idea of the unity of the organism by saying that

it was governed by a _Physis_ or Nature ([Greek: hê physis hêper

dioikei to zôon]), with whose "faculties" or powers it was the

province of [Greek: physiologia] (physiology, Nature-lore) to deal.

It was because Hippocrates had a clear sense of this principle that

Galen called him master. "Greatest," say the Moslems, "is Allah, and

Mohammed is his prophet." "Greatest," said Galen, "is the Physis, and

Hippocrates is its prophet." Never did Mohammed more zealously

maintain the unity of the Godhead than Hippocrates and Galen the unity

of the organism.

[Sidenote: Galen's Physics.]

But we shall not have read far before we discover that the term

_Physiology_, as used by Galen, stands not merely for what we

understand by it nowadays, but also for a large part of _Physics_ as

well. This is one of the chief sources of confusion in his writings.

Having grasped, for example, the uniqueness of the process of

_specific selection_ ([Greek: holkê tou oikeiou]), by which the

tissues nourish themselves, he proceeds to apply this principle in

explanation of entirely different classes of phenomena; thus he mixes

it up with the physical phenomenon of the attraction of the lodestone

for iron, of dry grain for moisture, etc. It is noteworthy, however,

in these latter instances, that he does not venture to follow out his

comparison to its logical conclusion; he certainly stops short of

hinting that the lodestone (like a living organ or tissue)

_assimilates_ the metal which it has attracted!

Setting aside, however, these occasional half-hearted attempts to

apply his principle of a [Greek: physis] in regions where it has no

natural standing, we shall find that in the field of biology Galen

moves with an assurance bred of first-hand experience.

[Sidenote: The Mechanical Physicists.]

Against his attempt to "biologize" physics may be set the converse

attempt of the mechanical Atomist school. Thus in Asclepiades he found

a doughty defender of the view that physiology was "merely" physics.

Galen's ire being roused, he is not content with driving the enemy out

of the biological camp, but must needs attempt also to dislodge him

from that of physics, in which he has every right to be.

[Sidenote: The Anatomists.]

In defence of the universal validity of his principle, Galen also

tends to excessive disparagement of morphological factors; witness his

objection to the view of the anatomist Erasistratus that the calibre

of vessels played a part in determining the secretion of fluids (p.

123), that digestion was caused by the mechanical action of the

stomach walls (p. 243), and dropsy by induration of the liver (p.

171).

[Sidenote: Characteristics of the Living Organism.]

While combating the atomic explanation of physical processes, Galen of

course realised that there were many of these which could only be

explained according to what we should now call "mechanical laws." For

example, non-living things could be subjected to [Greek: phora]

(passive motion), they answered to the laws of gravity ([Greek: tais

tôn hylôn oiakizomena rhopais], p. 126). Furthermore, Galen did not

fail to see that living things also were not entirely exempted from

the operation of these laws; they too may be at least partly subject

to gravity (_loc. cit._); a hollow organ exerts, by virtue of its

cavity, an attraction similar to that of dilating bellows, as well as,

by virtue of the living tissue of its walls, a specifically "vital" or

selective kind of attraction (p. 325).

As a type of characteristically vital action we may take _nutrition_,

in which occurs a phenomenon which Galen calls _active motion_

([Greek: drastikê kinêsis]) or, more technically, _alteration_

([Greek: alloiôsis]). This active type of motion cannot be adequately

stated in terms of the passive movements (groupings and re-groupings)

of its constituent parts according to certain empirical "laws."

Alteration involves _self-movement_, a self-determination of the

organism or organic part. Galen does not attempt to explain this

fundamental characteristic of _alteration_ any further; he contents

himself with referring his opponents to Aristotle's work on the

"Complete Alteration of Substance" (p. 9).

The most important characteristic of the Physis or Nature is its

[Greek: technê]--its artistic creativeness. In other words, the living

organism is a creative artist. This feature may be observed typically

in its primary functions of _growth_ and _nutrition_; these are

dependent on the characteristic _faculties_ or powers, by virtue of

which each part draws to itself what is proper or appropriate to it

([Greek: to oikeion]) and rejects what is foreign ([Greek: to

allotrion]), thereafter appropriating or assimilating the attracted

material; this assimilation is an example of the _alteration_ (or

qualitative change) already alluded to; thus the food eaten is

"altered" into the various tissues of the body, each of these having

been provided by "Nature" with its own specific faculties of

attraction and repulsion.

[Sidenote: The Three Categories.]

Any of the operations of the living part may be looked on in three

ways, either (_a_) as a [Greek: dynamis], faculty, potentiality;

(_b_) as an [Greek: energeia], which is this [Greek: dynamis] in

operation; or (_c_) as an [Greek: ergon], the product or effect of the

[Greek: energeia].[3]

[Sidenote: Galen's Method.]

Like his master Hippocrates, Galen attached fundamental importance to

clinical observation--to the evidence of the senses as the

indispensable groundwork of all medical knowledge. He had also,

however, a forte for rapid generalisation from observations, and his

logical proclivities disposed him particularly to deductive

reasoning. Examples of an almost Euclidean method of argument may be

found in the _Natural Faculties_ (_e.g._ Book III. chap. i.). While

this method undoubtedly gave him much help in his search for truth, it

also not unfrequently led him astray. This is evidenced by his

attempt, already noted, to apply the biological principle of the

[Greek: physis] in physics. Characteristic examples of attempts to

force facts to fit premises will be found in Book II. chap. ix., where

our author demonstrates that yellow bile is "virtually" dry, and also,

by a process of exclusion, assigns to the spleen the function of

clearing away black bile. Strangest of all is his attempt to prove

that the same principle of specific attraction by which the ultimate

tissues nourish themselves (and the lodestone attracts iron!) accounts

for the reception of food into the stomach, of urine into the kidneys,

of bile into the gall-bladder, and of semen into the uterus.

These instances are given, however, without prejudice to the system of

generalisation and deduction which, in Galen's hands, often proved

exceedingly fruitful. He is said to have tried "to unite professional

and scientific medicine with a philosophic link." He objected,

however, to such extreme attempts at simplification of medical science

as that of the Methodists, to whom diseases were isolated entities,

without any relationships in time or space (_v._ p. xv. _supra_).

He based much of his pathological reasoning upon the "humoral theory"

of Hippocrates, according to which certain diseases were caused by one

or more of the four humours (blood, phlegm, black and yellow bile)

being in excess--that is, by various _dyscrasiae_. Our modern

conception of "hormone" action shows certain resemblances with this

theory.

Besides observation and reasoning, Galen took his stand on

_experiment_; he was one of the first of experimental physiologists,

as is illustrated in the present book by his researches into the

function of the kidneys (p. 59 _et seq._). He also conducted a long

series of experiments into the physiology of the spinal cord, to

determine what parts controlled movement and what sensibility.

As a practitioner he modelled his work largely on the broad and simple

lines laid down by Hippocrates. He had also at his disposal all the

acquisitions of biological science dating from the time of Aristotle

five hundred years earlier, and reinforced by the discoveries in

anatomy made by the Alexandrian school. To these he added a large

series of researches of his own.

Galen never confined himself to what one might call the academic or

strictly orthodox sources of information; he roamed the world over for

answers to his queries. For example, we find him on his journeys

between Pergamos and Rome twice visiting the island of Lemnos in order

to procure some of the _terra sigillata_, a kind of earth which had a

reputation for healing the bites of serpents and other wounds. At

other times he visited the copper-mines of Cyprus in search for

copper, and Palestine for the resin called Balm of Gilead.

By inclination and training Galen was the reverse of a "party-man." In

the _Natural Faculties_ (p. 55) he speaks of the bane of sectarian

partizanship, "harder to heal than any itch." He pours scorn upon the

ignorant "Erasistrateans" and "Asclepiadeans," who attempted to hide

their own incompetence under the shield of some great man's name

(_cf._ p. 141).

Of the two chief objects of his censure in the _Natural Faculties_,

Galen deals perhaps less rigorously with Erasistratus than with

Asclepiades. Erasistratus did at least recognize the existence of a

vital principle in the organism, albeit, with his eye on the

structures which the scalpel displayed he tended frequently to forget

it. The researches of the anatomical school of Alexandria had been

naturally of the greatest service to surgery, but in medicine they

sometimes had a tendency to check progress by diverting attention from

the whole to the part.

[Sidenote: The Pneuma or Spirit.]

Another novel conception frequently occurring in Galen's writings is

that of the _Pneuma_ (_i.e._ the breath, _spiritus_). This word is

used in two senses, as meaning (1) the inspired air, which was drawn

into the left side of the heart and thence carried all over the body

by the arteries; this has not a few analogies with oxygen,

particularly as its action in the tissues is attended with the

appearance of the so-called "innate heat." (2) A vital principle,

conceived as being made up of matter in the most subtle imaginable

state (_i.e._ air). This vital principle became resolved into three

kinds: (_a_) [Greek: pneuma physikon] or _spiritus naturalis_, carried

by the veins, and presiding over the subconscious vegetative life;

this "natural spirit" is therefore practically equivalent to the

[Greek: physis] or "nature" itself. (_b_) The [Greek: pneuma zôtikon]

or _spiritus vitalis_; here particularly is a source of error, since

the air already alluded to as being carried by the arteries tends to

be confused with this principle of "individuality" or relative

autonomy in the circulatory (including, perhaps, the vasomotor)

system. (_c_) The [Greek: pneuma psychikon] or _spiritus animalis_

(anima = [Greek: psychê]), carried by longitudinal canals in the nerves;

this corresponds to the [Greek: psychê].

This view of a "vital principle" as necessarily consisting of matter

in a finely divided, fluid, or "etheric" state is not unknown even in

our day. Belief in the fundamental importance of the Pneuma formed the

basis of the teaching of another vitalist school in ancient Greece,

that of the Pneumatists.

[Sidenote: Galen and the Circulation of the Blood.]

It is unnecessary to detail here the various ways in which Galen's

physiological views differ from those of the Moderns, as most of these

are noticed in footnotes to the text of the present translation. His

ignorance of the circulation of the blood does not lessen the force of

his general physiological conclusions to the extent that might be

anticipated. In his opinion, the great bulk of the blood travelled

with a to-and-fro motion in the veins, while a little of it, mixed

with inspired air, moved in the same way along the arteries; whereas

we now know that all the blood goes outward by the arteries and

returns by the veins; in either case blood is carried to the tissues

by blood-vessels, and Galen's ideas of tissue-nutrition were

wonderfully sound. The ingenious method by which (in ignorance of the

pulmonary circulation) he makes blood pass from the right to the left

ventricle, may be read in the present work (p. 321). As will be seen,

he was conversant with the "anastomoses" between the ultimate branches

of arteries and veins, although he imagined that they were not used

under "normal" conditions.

[Sidenote: Galen's Character.]

Galen was not only a man of great intellectual gifts, but one also of

strong moral fibre. In his short treatise "That the best Physician is

also a Philosopher" he outlines his professional ideals. It is

necessary for the efficient healer to be versed in the three branches

of "philosophy," viz.: (_a_) _logic_, the science of how to think;

(_b_) _physics_, the science of what is--_i.e._ of "Nature" in the

widest sense; (_c_) _ethics_, the science of what to do. The amount of

toil which he who wishes to be a physician must undergo--firstly, in

mastering the work of his predecessors and afterwards in studying

disease at first hand--makes it absolutely necessary that he should

possess perfect self-control, that he should scorn money and the weak

pleasures of the senses, and should live laborious days.

Readers of the following pages will notice that Galen uses what we

should call distinctly immoderate language towards those who ventured

to differ from the views of his master Hippocrates (which were also

his own). The employment of such language was one of the few

weaknesses of his age which he did not transcend. Possibly also his

mother's choleric temper may have predisposed him to it.

The fact, too, that his vivisection experiments (_e.g._ pp. 59, 273)

were carried out apparently without any kind of anaesthetisation being

even thought of is abhorrent to the feelings of to-day, but must be

excused also on the ground that callousness towards animals was then

customary, men having probably never thought much about the subject.

[Sidenote: Galen's Greek Style.]

Galen is a master of language, using a highly polished variety of

Attic prose with a precision which can be only very imperfectly

reproduced in another tongue. Every word he uses has an exact and

definite meaning attached to it. Translation is particularly difficult

when a word stands for a physiological conception which is not now

held; instances are the words _anadosis_, _prosthesis_, and

_prosphysis_, indicating certain steps in the process by which

nutriment is conveyed from the alimentary canal to the tissues.

Readers will be surprised to find how many words are used by Galen

which they would have thought had been expressly coined to fit modern

conceptions; thus our author employs not merely such terms as

_physiology_, _phthisis_, _atrophy_, _anastomosis_, but also

_haematopoietic_, _anaesthesia_, and even _aseptic_! It is only fair,

however, to remark that these terms, particularly the last, were not

used by Galen in quite their modern significance.

[Sidenote: Summary.]

To resume, then: What contribution can Galen bring to the art of

healing at the present day? It was not, surely, for nothing that the

great Pergamene gave laws to the medical world for over a thousand

years!

Let us draw attention once more to:

(1) The high ideal which he set before the profession.

(2) His insistence on immediate contact with nature as the primary

condition for arriving at an understanding of disease; on the need for

due consideration of previous authorities; on the need also for

reflection--for employment of the mind's eye ([Greek: hê logikê

theôria]) as an aid to the physical eye.

(3) His essentially broad outlook, which often helped him in the

comprehension of a phenomenon through his knowledge of an analogous

phenomenon in another field of nature.

(4) His keen appreciation of the unity of the organism, and of the

inter-dependence of its parts; his realisation that the vital

phenomena (physiological and pathological) in a living organism can

only be understood when considered in relation to the _environment_ of

that organism or part. This is the foundation for the war that Galen

waged _à outrance_ on the Methodists, to whom diseases were things

without relation to anything. This dispute is, unfortunately, not

touched upon in the present volume. What Galen combated was the

tendency, familiar enough in our own day, to reduce medicine to the

science of finding a label for each patient, and then treating not the

patient, but the label. (This tendency, we may remark in parenthesis,

is one which is obviously well suited for the _standardising_ purposes

of a State medical service, and is therefore one which all who have

the weal of the profession at heart must most jealously watch in the

difficult days that lie ahead.)

(5) His realisation of the inappropriateness and inadequacy of

physical formulae in explaining physiological activities. Galen's

disputes with Asclepiades over [Greek: ta prôta ekeina sômata ta

apathê], over the [Greek: anarma stoicheia kai lêrôdeis onkoi], is but

another aspect of his quarrel with the Methodists regarding their

pathological "units," whose primary characteristic was just this same

[Greek: apatheia] (impassiveness to environment, "unimpressionability").

We have of course our Physiatric or Iatromechanical school at the

present day, to whom such processes as absorption from the alimentary

canal, the respiratory interchange of gases, and the action of the renal

epithelium are susceptible of a purely physical explanation.[4]

(6) His quarrel with the Anatomists, which was in essence the same as

that with the Atomists, and which arose from his clear realisation

that that primary and indispensable desideratum, a view of the whole,

could never be obtained by a mere summation of partial views; hence,

also, his sense of the dangers which would beset the medical art if it

were allowed to fall into the hands of a mere crowd of competing

specialists without any organising head to guide them.

[1] _On the Affections of the Mind_, p. 41 (Kühn's ed.).

[2] "Averrhoës who made the great Commentary" (Dante). It

was Averrhoës (Ebn Roshd) who, in the 12th century,

introduced Aristotle to the Mohammedan world, and the

"Commentary" referred to was on Aristotle.

[3] What appear to me to be certain resemblances between

the Galenical and the modern vitalistic views of Henri

Bergson may perhaps be alluded to here. Galen's vital

principle, [Greek: hê technikê physis] ("creative

growth"), presents analogies with _l'Evolution créatrice_:

both manifest their activity in producing qualitative

change ([Greek: alloiôsis], _changement_): in both, the

creative change cannot be analysed into a series of static

states, but is one and continuous. In Galen, however, it

comes to an end with the _development of the individual_,

whereas in Bergson it continues indefinitely as the

_evolution of life_. The three aspects of organic life may

be tabulated thus:--

[Greek: dynamis] [Greek: energeia] [Greek: ergon]

Work to be done. Work being done. Work done, finished.

Future aspect. Present aspect. Past aspect.

Function. Structure.

The _élan vital_. A "thing."

A changing which

cannot be understood

as a sum of static

parts; a constant

becoming, never

stopping--at least

till the [Greek: ergon]

is reached.

Bergson's Bergson's Bergson's "outlook

"teleological" "philosophical" of physical

aspect. aspect. science."

Galen recognized "creativeness" ([Greek: technê]) in the

_development_ of the individual and its parts (ontogeny)

and in the maintenance of these, but he failed to

appreciate the creative _evolution_ of species

(phylogeny), which is, of course, part of the same

process. To the teleologist the possibilities ([Greek:

dynameis]) of the Physis are limited, to Bergson they

are unlimited. Galen and Bergson agree in attaching most

practical importance to the middle category--that of

Function.

While it must be conceded that Galen, following

Aristotle, had never seriously questioned the fixity of

species, the following quotation from his work _On

Habits_ (chap. ii.) will show that he must have at least

had occasional glimmerings of our modern point of view

on the matter. Referring to _assimilation_, he says:

"Just as everything we eat or drink becomes _altered in

quality_, so of course also does the altering factor

itself become altered.... A clear proof of the

assimilation of things which are being nourished to that

which is nourishing them is the change which occurs in

plants and seeds; this often goes so far that what is

highly noxious in one soil becomes, when transplanted

into another soil, not merely harmless, but actually

useful. This has been largely put to the test by those

who compose memoirs on farming and on plants, as also by

zoological authors who have written on the changes which

occur according to the countries in which animals live.

Since, therefore, not only is the nourishment altered by

the creature nourished, but the latter itself also

undergoes some slight alteration, _this slight

alteration must necessarily become considerable in the

course of time_, and thus properties resulting from

prolonged habit must come to be on a par with natural

properties."

Galen fails to see the possibility that the "natural"

properties themselves originated in this way, as

activities which gradually became habitual--that is to

say, that the effects of _nurture_ may become a "second

nature," and so eventually _nature_ itself.

The whole passage, however, may be commended to modern

biologists--particularly, might one say, to those

bacteriologists who have not yet realised how

extraordinarily _relative_ is the term "specificity"

when applied to the subject-matter of their science.

[4] In terms of filtration, diffusion, and osmosis.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Codices

Bibliothèque Nationale. Paris. No. 2267.

Library of St. Mark. Venice. No. 275.

Translations

Arabic translations by Honain in the Escurial Library, and

in the Library at Leyden. Hebrew translation in the

Library at Bonn. Latin translations in the Library of

Gonville and Caius College (MSS.), No. 947; also by

Linacre in editions published, London, 1523; Paris,

1528; Leyden, 1540, 1548, and 1550; also by C.G. Kühn,

Leipzig, 1821.

Commentaries and Appreciations

Nic. de Anglia in Bib. Nat. Paris (MSS.), No. 7015; J.

Rochon, _ibidem_, No. 7025; J. Segarra, 1528; J. Sylvius,

1550, 1560; L. Joubert, 1599; M. Sebitz, 1644, 1645;

J.B. Pacuvius, 1554; J.C.G. Ackermann, 1821, in

the introduction to Kühn's translation, p. lxxx; Ilberg

in articles on "Die Schriftstellerei des Klaudios

Galenos," in _Rhein. Mus._, Nos. 44, 47, 51, and 52

(years 1889, 1892, 1896 and 1897); I. von Mueller in

_Quæstiones Criticae de Galeni libris_, Erlangen, 1871;

Steinschneider in Virchow's _Archiv_, No. cxxiv. for

1891; Wenrich in _De auctorum graecorum versionibus

et commentariis syriacis, arabicis, armiacis, persisque_,

Leipzig, 1842.

SYNOPSIS OF CHAPTERS

BOOK I

Chapter I

Distinction between the effects of (_a_) the organism's

_psyche_ or soul (_b_) its _physis_ or nature. The

author proposes to confine himself to a consideration of

the latter--the vegetative--aspect of life.

Galen: On the Natural Faculties · 第 1 / 21 章