Femina, A Work for Every Woman

by John A. Miller

The question now naturally arises How far this curative energy of nature operates in warm-blooded animals, and especially in man? The answer must be that, while it falls short of reproducing parts of organs or even tissues in the same degree of perfection as in the lower orders, the innate tendency towards regeneration and recovery from injury and disease is, on certain lines, practically the same. There is not the slightest doubt that ninety per cent. of all cures, whether the invalid took this, that, or the other medicine, or whether the method of treatment was homeopathic, allopathic, or mind cure, are entirely due to this inherent curative energy; and the other ten per cent. may have required some active remedy, but this, too, alone, without nature’s healing force, would have been ineffectual.

What is ordinarily termed mind cure is not mind cure in the sense that the term implies, but it is simply the mind toying or playing with the idea of a cure, for while the mind is thus engaged, nature’s energy is accomplishing the result or cure. This is the only rational explanation, and corresponds with the cures that nature is continually making in the lower orders of animals. If the recovery of the sick depended entirely upon the caprice and wisdom of the doctor, and not on the reparative forces of nature, the race would soon die out. I fully recognize the fact that the curative force can be stimulated; this may be done through the influence of nourishing food, alcoholic stimulants, a drug or medicine, or through purely mental influences. No physician can estimate how much merit he can accredit to the methods or substances he employs in any particular case that recovers, and how much to the lady physician, Dame Nature. This old lady doctor is ever active, and the most inert drugs, employed or administered with her assistance, have achieved wonderful cures; this the history of medicine confirms. The tar water cure of Bishop Berkeley is an illustration how an inert substance is capable of making for itself an enviable reputation for curing ailments, like pleurisy, pneumonia, erysipelas, asthma, indigestion, hypochondria, and other diseases. This remedy had the vehement indorsement of one of the greatest metaphysicians of the English-speaking world, and that the cures reported by him were genuine no one will doubt for a moment; but the bishop, like many of our day, was determined to have a remedy to cure disease, where none was required, but the mind had to be humored, while nature was actively repairing the disorder. To-day almost everyone is satisfied, that the virtues ascribed to tar water by Berkeley were a delusion, which was shared by all those who believed as he did.

The Weapon Ointment affords another instance where the credulity of the public was supported by abundant facts to prove the efficacy of the remedy, yet it was based on the wildest superstition. This ointment was employed for the healing of wounds, but instead of being applied to them, the weapon with which the wound was inflicted was carefully anointed and hung up in a corner, and the wound was washed and bandaged without the salve being allowed to touch it. This ointment created such a furor that eminent medical men indorsed its virtues as a healing agent. Another example of superstition and charlatanry was the equally famous Sympathetic Powder, which, when applied to the blood-stained garments of wounded persons, cured their injuries even when miles away. That dukes and knights vied with each other to obtain the secret of its preparation and ingredients is a matter of history. Instances of delusions on medical subjects could be multiplied a thousand fold, but they prove nothing but ignorance and superstition on the one side, and the inherent all-powerful curative force of nature on the other. While I wish to avoid wounding the fastidious and sensitive in the matter of their faith in their cherished system of cure, I cannot refrain from classing homeopathy as a similar delusion.

I am glad to admit at the outset that I have read Hahnemann’s “Organon of the Art of Healing” with a great deal of interest and some profit. I am convinced that his theory of infinitesimal dilutions is as absurd and ridiculous as either the Weapon Ointment or the Sympathetic Powder treatment already referred to.

If we consider the harsh, or, preferably-termed, heroic treatments, then in vogue, we need not be surprised that the pendulum of medication should have swung in the opposite extreme. Blood was drawn from the already enfeebled body, emaciated by disease; emetics were administered to sensitive and inflamed stomachs, and only aggravated into greater disorder; blisters, or the burning moxa, scorched into greater agony the suffering mortal, while large doses of drastic cathartics depleted the waning forces of nature. There was a tendency of the medical profession about that time to entirely ignore the curative forces of nature, and to attack disease as you would a midnight marauder, with the most powerful and dangerous weapons at command; and there is no doubt that with these powerful expedients, disease was destroyed, but life also. Under these conditions Hahnemann appeared on the scene, and I am frank to admit that he rendered suffering humanity invaluable service by espousing a system of cure which had the merit of being harmless. If we take into account that physiological studies were then in their infancy, and that the word “Biologie,” from the Greek words which signify a discourse upon life and living things, was made use of for the first time by Lamarck, in a work published in 1801, it will not seem altogether strange that even learned men were mystified into beliefs which, in the light of our present knowledge of the subject, appear preposterous. This was a most opportune time to fasten on the healing art any doctrine or dogma, however absurd, and on this tide of ignorance and superstition, the doctrine of infinitesimal dilutions floated into popularity. Homeopathy affords us one of the most striking illustrations of the uselessness of drugs in ordinary ailments, and conclusively proves that nature possesses inherent curative powers. Cases treated under this system make splendid recoveries, and often much better than when the powers of nature are opposed or weakened with nauseating drugs and poisonous doses, prescribed by incompetent persons.

Hahnemann truthfully observed that existing diseases are liable to become aggravated, complicated or replaced by drug diseases.

There is no doubt of the truth of this statement where drugs are heedlessly administered. When I was a student I was told that calomel was par excellence a babies’ medicine without any qualification. I was credulous enough to believe it and prescribed it for my own children for its purgative effect whenever it was deemed necessary. In later childhood, when the second dentition set in, the germs of the permanent teeth were so injured, evidently from the calomel that had been absorbed into the system, that the teeth were ragged and defective. The glands of the neck were also inclined to swell and suppurate, and there is no doubt in my mind that a great deal of what is generally supposed to be scrofula in young children, is nothing more nor less than a “drug disease.” I believe that Hahnemann was cognizant of the potency of nature under ordinary circumstances to cure disease. I believe that he absorbed this view of the philosophy of healing from the writings of Paracelsus, which he had studied, and from which he drew his inspiration, but he also appreciated the practical necessity that success depended on satisfying the superstitious belief of the times, and that consisted in offering some tangible remedy. Hahnemann proved himself equal to the emergency by formulating his doctrine of potentizing drugs or medicinal substances by reducing them to a wonderful degree of minuteness.

The preparation of these dilutions was directed to be carried out in a ceremonial sort of way. Chalk from an oyster shell, sulphur, charcoal, or any other substance, was potentized by taking one grain of the drug and mixing it with one hundred grains of sugar of milk. Of this mixture one grain was taken and mixed in the same manner with another hundred grains sugar of milk. This gave the ten-thousandth of a grain of the drug. Take one grain of this with another hundred grains of sugar of milk and the powder will contain the millionth of a grain of the substance, or the first potency, which forms the bases of other dilutions. This is reducing the doses of any drug to an absurdity, and Hahnemann was too brilliant a mind not to know this. It might be mentioned in connection with these dilutions, that if one grain of the most powerful drug, strychnine, aconitin, arsenic, or any other chemical that is known, is mixed with six hundred grains of sugar of milk, one grain of this powder, or the one six-hundredth of a grain of this substance, cannot be detected by any test or chemical reagent; or, in other words, the quantity of the drug or chemical contained is so small that the most delicate chemical test fails to show it; yet, in homeopathy, the dilutions are carried to the decillionth of a grain, from which important medical effects are expected.

Drugs are physical agents, and if they are diluted so as to destroy their chemical or physical properties, it is sheer nonsense to expect any physical result from them on the system. Chemical and physical facts conclusively prove the utter inertness of certain drugs either in themselves or in the manner in which they are employed, and the indisputable evidence of biological science demonstrates the natural curative tendency of nature observable in the lowest living thing to the highest, so that we should stultify our reason were we to arrive at any other conclusion than that the doctrine of this therapeutic creed is one of the most irrational delusions that ever befogged the mental horizon of a thinking being.

The supposed cures effected through the employment of the Weapon Ointment, the Sympathetic Powders, the endless dilutions of the Hahnemann system, and, indeed, most other remedial agents from any school or source, whether offensive powders, mixtures, or patent medicines, or the more agreeable and tasteless pellets, have but one role to play, that is, to assuage the apprehensions of the mind while nature is performing the cure; that is, to engage the mind with the thought or idea that something tangible is being done to bring about a certain result.