[Original]
The most colossal figure in this collection of mediaeval charlatans and knaves was Paracelsus. He was born in 1493, near Zurich, of a well-to-do family, his father being a physician. He had a good preliminary education, and then visited the various universities, or rather university towns; but, instead of listening to the professors, Paracelsus associated with clever women, barbers, magicians, alchemists, and the like, from whom he acquired much information. He was led at once to the vagaries of the cabal, and, according to his own statement, he did not open a book for ten years. He neglected his studies and forgot his Latin, so that he became incapable of expressing himself in that language. From the age of twenty-five he became a hard drinker, and this habit ultimately worked his ruin. One of his disciples says of him that during the two years which he passed with him he was so inclined to drinking and debauchery that he could scarcely be seen for an hour or two without being full of wine, although that condition did not prevent him from being admired by every one as a second Æsculapius.
At this time Paracelsus was between thirty-three and thirty-five years of age, and at, apparently, the most brilliant period of his life. He had written extensively and with emphasis of his numerous cures, after the fashion of charlatans of those days,—and, unfortunately, of to-day,—and claimed to be possessed of infallible secrets against the most intractable diseases. He had just been called to Basel to the chair of physic and surgery, and crowds of curious and idle persons attended his lectures, which he gave in the vernacular, and not, as was customary in those days, in Latin. In order to strike his auditors with astonishment, he began by burning the works of Galen and Avicenna, and then reading from his own writings, breaking off from time to time into the statement: "Know, ye doctors, that my hat knows more than you; that my beard is more experienced than your academies. Greeks, Latins, Arabians, French, Italians, Jews, Christians, and Mohammedans, you must follow me; I shall not follow you, for I am your monarch, and sovereignty belongs to me." As may be imagined, his professorship was not one of long duration, and he soon had few or no listeners. In consequence of some mishaps he left Basel quite precipitately, his departure causing no such sensation as his arrival. He then resumed his nomadic life, and we find him at Alsace in 1528, at Nuremberg in 1529, at St. Galle in 1531, at Mindelheim in 1540, and in the following year at Salzburg, where he died in the hospital at the age of forty-eight.
Few men there are of whom so much good and so much evil has been written as of Paracelsus. Few are there of whom it is to-day so hard to judge, since, if we refer to his contemporaries, they disagree completely concerning him, and if we refer to his own writings we fall into still greater chaos and have to abandon the attempt. His writings show ideas without connection, observations which contradict each other, and phrases which defy comprehension. At one moment he gives proof of admirable penetration, at the next simply abject nonsense.
That he exerted an influence upon his time is certain, but that this influence was retrograde rather than progressive seems quite likely. His exact duplicate has probably never existed since his time, and we may say that never was there another man like Aurelius Phillip-pus Theophrastus Paracelsus Bombastus ab Hohenheim—his full name.
Although this man was such a prominent character in his day, his name must be erased from the list of those who have contributed to the world's progress. He was simply a pretended reformer, who counted as nothing the most erudite writings, and who relied solely on his own experience. He had the most profound self-confidence, and played upon the credulity of his neighbors and victims with the toys which were furnished him by the prevalent cabalistic notions of the day. The school which he would have founded was nothing but a school of ignorance, dissipation, and boasting—a school of medical dishonesty. In a word, it was, as Renouard has said, "a school of which Thessalus, of Tralles, had been the Corypheus in antiquity, which John of Gaddesden revived in the Middle Ages, and to which Paracelsus gave a new development."
While, as has been briefly recounted, the partisans of the occult sciences strove to completely overturn the scientific edifice of antiquity, other reformers, more sensible and less daring, were content to expose its defects without attacking it in its entirety. These were, for the most part, enlightened men, and at the same time free thinkers,—friends of progress, and not of destruction. During the sixteenth century these men were few in number, but at least three or four of them deserve mention.
John Argentier was born in Piedmont, and taught in Naples, Pisa, and Turin. He did not hesitate to take issue with the theories and statements of Galen, and criticised those who adopted them too servilely. Of him it may be said that, although styled a reformer, nevertheless, he kept too near to the doctrines of those against whom he inveighed to seriously weaken their position.
Leonard Botal, also a Piedmontese, was born in 1530. First a surgeon in the French army, he later became physician to the kings Charles IX and Henri III. He was the first to recommend frequent and general bloodletting. Apparently before his time this practice was greatly restrained. He carried his views so far as to maintain that an infirm old man should be bled from two to six times a year, and that it was good custom to open the veins of healthy individuals every six months. He wrote a remarkable memoir on the cure of disease by blood-letting. It is not to be denied that he obtained some remarkable success with his copious venesections, and it must be said, in his defense, that, if he overdid it, his contemporaries did not resort to it often enough, and that his own practices were instructive to others. In his writings he united independence and energy of thought with elegance and purity of style.