Our word sulphur, though, is of Sanscrit origin, the Greek word theion indicating its divine or god-given purifying power, with possible allusion to its utility in that lower world with which the theologians most often associate it. The Greek word appears in our chemical nomenclature as dithionic, trithionic, etc.
We note also an almost complete absence of Egyptian words, though many cultured Greeks visited Egypt. Nevertheless, the latter looked with small favor on barbarisms of speech, and our word pyramid is one of the very few which they thus adopted. The term surgery is of very distinct Greek origin, and meant handwork as distinguished from the action of internal remedies. Medicine seems to be derived from medeo to take care of, to provide, and physic and physician from phusis, i. e., nature. The physici were originally naturalists, or scientists, like Aristotle, medical science being but a part of their study. Campbell in his book ("The Language of Medicine") gives a list of at least two dozen common terms of to-day which were employed by Homer. In addition to these, many other Homeric terms are still in use, but with more or less altered or perverted meanings; for example, æther, when used in the sense of its being a narcotic agency; astragalus, which originally meant a die, since the analogous bones of the sheep were used for dice; amœba, from amoibe, change or alteration, alluding to constant change of shape. Ammon originally meant a young lamb, iris a halo, meconium has reference to the juice of the poppy, from mekon, opium; molybdenum was so named from its resemblance to lead, narcosis originally meant numbness; the pleura was the side; the original phial was a saucer; the phalanges were so called because they were arranged side by side as it were in a phalanx; our troche was at first a wheel; and our tympanum was the original Greek drum, the word still persisting in musical terminology. The arteries were so named because they were supposed to contain air, while the veins were the gushers, from phleo, to gush or flow. The original confusion of nerves and tendons appears in the term aponeurosis.
Long ago there were two rival medical factions among the Greeks, the Empirics, from empeirikos, meaning experimental—who believed there were no philosophic underlying principles of medical science, and that experience alone was the safe guide,—and the Methodists, from methodos, who believed it better to follow the hodos, or "middle of the road." The present use of the word empiric shows the contempt with which the former came to be regarded.
As cure (curo) meant to care for, so did medicus have the same meaning, as already remarked, while the Greek slave, therapon, who waited on his master, became later the therapeutist who cared for his ailments. Our word to heal has also a somewhat similar dislocated meaning, since originally it meant protection, i. e., covering. The same root persists in hell, i. e., hades, referring to a certain supposititious locality so well covered that from it there is no escape.
Note, too, the influence of ancient mythology in medical phraseology. Jupiter Ammon, the horned god, is recognized in hartshorn or ammonia. Mars, the god of war, whose symbol is iron, persists in the so-called martial preparations or ferruginous tonics. Venus and Aphrodite naturally appear in venereal and aphrodisiac, while Vulcan's rôle is indicated in the heat to which caoutchouc is subjected in vulcanizing rubber. Mercury appears not only in Roman form as a metal, but in his Greek rôle as Hermes, not to be forgotten when receptacles are hermetically sealed. Let us cut short a longer list by simply noting in passing how the Greek Cupid Eros and his mate Psyche are perpetuated in our terms erotic and psychiatry, while Morpheus, the god of sleep, can never be forgotten so long as morphine is in use. That the wrath of the gods was to be dreaded is indicated in our word plague, from plege, meaning a blow from that source, that is their vengeance. You thus see the antiquity of the notion that epidemics were a divine visitation, and not due to bad sanitation.
Melancholia, melas and chole, meant originally black bile. In ancient physiology the bile played a very important part, and the results of hepatic insufficiency were not only indicated by this name, but the advantages of the use of calomel were amply emphasized by its name, kalos and melas, for it was a beautiful remedy for this blackness. Another condition indicating trouble with the liver, which we call jaundice to-day (from the French jaunisse), was known as icterus from ikteros, a yellow bird. The poultice which the average housewife of to-day is so fond of using, was originally a poltos, or pudding, or perhaps a bean porridge.
In the days of ancient sacrifices one part of the animal was not placed upon the altar as an offering to delight the gods. It was that now known as the sacrum, which is usually defined to have been considered the sacred bone. The adjective sacer (sacrum), had not only the meaning generally ascribed to it, but meant also execrable, detestable, accursed. The sacrum meant then rather the part that was not acceptable to those to whom it was offered. The word calculus, like the term to calculate, must remind us of the presence of pebbles and their early use in facilitating reckoning, while our common terms testimony, testify, must necessarily recall the ancient sacred but phallic methods of oath-taking. Another superstition connected with deity is perpetuated in the term iliac passion, formerly applied to volvulus, or one form of acute bowel obstruction with its violent pain, which has been compared to that produced by the spear-point as part of the suffering upon the cross.
A keen analysis of the situation at the beginning of the Christian Era reveals the subtlety of the Greek character. The names of those organs which called for deep investigation or dissection are taken directly from the Greek, e. g., hepatic, sphenoid, ethmoid, the aorta, while many of the superficial parts have Latin names, e. g., temporal, frontal.
It is to the Greek that all nations almost invariably turn when they seek to fashion new terms with which to characterize or name new discoveries. The Romans showed their appreciation of that which was good when they so readily adopted the science and learning of the Greeks, and were willing to take over even their gods. The Latin races have always been good imitators but poor originators, save perhaps in war and politics. Had they been willing to imitate the Greeks in these their history might have been very different. When the Latin translators of Greek medical literature lacked for a word they cheerfully took the original, sometimes giving it a Latin dress. For instance, that which we now call the duodenum, meaning only twelve, was originally the dodekadaktulon, meaning that it was of a length equal to the width of twelve fingers, while they twisted the name eileon, the twisted intestine, into ileum. But the names of most diseases, like those of the more concealed parts, they copied almost exactly.
While in later ages the Church completely dominated, then subordinated, and then finally almost terminated the study of the natural sciences, it is yet of no small interest to note the effect of the rise of Christianity upon the study of medicine. It has been well said that the same "cross which brought light to religion cast a gloom over philosophy" (Campbell). Certain it is that the creed and the tenets which were for centuries the mainstay of Christianity, and which did so much for the uplifting of mankind, were made the excuse for the gradual suppression of all tendency toward investigation of natural phenomena, and the monasteries, where scholars congregated, became the graves of scientific thought and study. And so in time knowledge was exiled from Christian domiciles and transplanted to a Mohammedan environment. With Christian mythology and mysticism soon came also Christian demonology, and disease was generally regarded as an evidence of diabolical possession. This gave rise then, as even now, to the imposters who pretended to cure it by exorcism of evil spirits or invocation of divine or superhuman aid. It has always been a sorry time for rational medicine when superstition is rife. Even under the Arabians science flourished to but a limited extent. Their religion forbade the portrayal of any living object, animal or vegetable, consequently their works contained mere descriptions, never any illustration of any kind. This, by the way, is the explanation of their fondness for geometric tracery and of the richness of their ornamental designs. They professed the same horror of the dead body that was later inculcated by the Church and most of them scorned dissection. What wonder then that under Christianity and Islam alike our profession fared badly.