When it is declared that medicine of the present is influenced by no system, it is speedily found, on critical analysis, that this is an error. It necessarily follows the realistic and materialistic as readily as it did the teachings and doctrines of natural philosophy; and, in consequence, "medical thought," so called, is just as one-sided to-day as at any time in the history of the art. The watchword of to-day, natural specific tendency, veils, but does not take away, its philosophic principles, and so our ridicule of earlier medical systems is quite unjustifiable. A modern historian aptly remarks that the medicine of the present "embraces nothing but a theorem of investigation by the senses."

Discoveries in botany, the result of better knowledge of natural history and more accurate habits of study, have influenced modern progress not a little; have led to better classification and broader knowledge. The natural system of de Candolle (1778-1841) of Geneva, and of Endlicher, of Vienna, called into existence the so-called natural historical school of medicine; the researches into plant-cells by Schleiden and Baumgartner, and the almost contemporaneous discovery of animal cells by Schwann became, in course of time, the origin of recent cellular pathology; then came microscopic botany, and the influence of the lower fungi in the production of fermentation and putrefaction.

Similarly too, the laws of physics have been shown to have an inseparable connection with anatomy and physiology, and their study has become a most important aid in the experimental researches of to-day; through Helmholz they brought in the ophthalmoscope; thermal electricity, for the discovery of which medicine is indebted to Seebeck; a better knowledge of optics, thanks to Fraunhofer, who was equally expert in electricity; spectrum analysis, invented by Kirchhoff; and the varied efforts of Faraday, Graham Bell, Thomas Alva Edison, and Daguerre, the latter better known for his invention of photography. Finally, medicine is immeasurably indebted to Tyndall and Huxley for their teaching of the correlation and conservation of energy.

Chemistry also has performed its share, and, as applied to physiology, is a discovery almost wholly within the present century. The new nomenclature serves a practical purpose in that it is now possible to portray chemical combinations and isomerism in a graphic, and at least, semi-comprehensive way. Among the chemists may be specially mentioned Bertholet, whose laws are as well known as they are succinct; Humboldt; Berzelius; Dumas; Chevreuil, who recently died at the age of almost one hundred years; Magendie; Orfila, the toxicologist; Gmelin, eminent in physiological chemistry; Rose, perfecter of organic analysis; Wohler, who first made organic alkaloids; Bunsen; Sir Humphry Davy; Marsh; Faraday; Graham; Young, who first showed the industrial value of coal; and Gay-Lussac.

Upon medicine, zoology also, with comparative anatomy and physiology, has had a wonderful influence; here may be noted the names of Cuvier, Oken, Bilharz, Brehm, Wagner, Leuckart, Richard Owen, William Carpenter, and last, but by no means least, Thomas Huxley.

But perhaps the most significant feature of the age has been the wonderful development of scientific associations and the publication of medical and scientific literature. Whether these have yet reached their climax is perhaps an open question, but the consequent widening circle of readers, as well as of writers, seems to imply that there will be for a long time to come no lack of activity in this direction. In the United States more than in any other country medical societies and associations innumerable have sprung up, and to such a degree that (in the eastern States at least) there are few counties that cannot boast of a medical organization.

During the present century foreign universities have decreased in number, partly owing to consolidations and partly by surrender of charters; for instance, the old University of Ingolstadt was united with that of Landshut, and in 1827 was removed to Munich; in 1816 the University of Wurtemburg was united with that of Halle; the University of Bonn was abolished in 1792, but revived in 1818. A few new universities, like that of Zürich, have been founded. In the quaint old town of Prague the old German university was, in 1883, divided, and there now exist in that city two universities side by side, in one of which German is spoken, in the other Bohemian.

It will thus be seen that the nineteenth century is essentially an era of modern science, with whose dawn was sounded the death-knell of the "demon of disease" and his twin brother "visitation." In 1801 the first experiment in steam-navigation took place upon the Thames. In 1807 the slave-trade in England was abolished by Parliament. The theological part has entirely faded out of medicine; and the era of accurate scientific experimentation which long since dawned, is now, so far as we can see, at its height, since it is difficult to conceive of much improvement upon its methods under existing conditions, or of greater enthusiasm than has been already manifested.

Now, regarding some of the systems and theories of this age. The systems of the past have been more or less long-lived,—as, for instance, those of Dogmatism and of Galen,—while as we come closer to the present they become more ephemeral. Those of the early part of the present century took root in the soil of the eighteenth,—for instance, the so-called theory of excitement of Roeschlaub (1768-1835), which endeavored to mold into one the Brunonian errors and the fancies of Schelling. According to it, life depends upon irritability, but is inherent in the organism as an independent feature; so it recognizes both irritability and solidism, while Brown considered the former alone, adding, as an after-thought, a chemical or qualitative potency (oxygen), in order to account for alterations of quality. Roeschlaub inclined first toward natural philosophy, then, owing to an inherent theological and polemical bias (he was originally intended for the church), to mysticism and theosophy; finally, with a courage almost unexampled, he upset all his former teachings by admitting he was mistaken. To him was opposed Hufeland, who wrote on the Lengthening of Life, was noted for a warm and benevolent heart, and possessed no small penetration, as is evidenced by his aphorism, "Successful treatment requires one-third science and two-thirds 'savoir faire.'"

Stimolo and contrastimolo were titles applied to a theory advanced by Rasori (1762-1837), of Milan, that combined Methodism with Brunonism; by Baas it is characterized as a "genuine blot upon the human heart beyond any other of the various systems." Long centuries of experience and the conclusions of great and venerable minds may go for naught, as Rasori abundantly demonstrated. The theories of Brown were then taught as his own to his classes in Pavia, showing he was not above plagiarism; his stimolo corresponded to the sthenic diathesis devised by Brown, while his system consisted of an endeavor to make a diagnosis by watching the effects of drugs. Bleeding was held to be the best measure; if it did the patient good, the sthenic diathesis was assumed; if it made him worse, the asthenic was certain. He gave enormous doses of powerful drugs—sixty grains of gamboge, and from two to three ounces of saltpeter in a single day. Is it strange that homoeopathy or any other heterodox system sprang up in the midst of such measures? It is an old saying that there is no folly which will not secure a following; and, strange to say, Rasori had a numerous and an eminent one.