“My brothers,” continued Médor, “if we confine our attention to the remedies prescribed by men, we shall only foster sickness and hasten death. I once heard the remark made by a man, that the sublimest philosophy was that which stood the test of common sense. I am inclined to think that the sublime in the art of healing would be to return to and trust to instinct. These words are simple, but profound; think over them, although they will meet only with the world’s scorn.”
“Decidedly,” said the Fox. “It is most unreasonable, when one wants to found a science, to begin with common sense; that is a vulgar natural gift which can only stand in the way of science.”
“That is quite evident,” murmured a Bear, who had come forward with a subscription.
Médor scratched his ear and proceeded in a lower tone. “My opinions were blamed, I was cursed, beaten, and treated as an incendiary. When I wished to raise my paws to heaven to protect my innocence, one of them was broken, and my colleagues ironically inquired what remedy instinct and common sense suggested to me under the circumstances, and if any to apply it. But as they had taken care to knock me on the head before asking the question, I was unable to reply, and so stood convicted of insanity.”
“Herein is logic!” said the Fox.
“I was put to bed—on straw—and the chamber was soon filled by a Leech, a Crane, a heteroclitic animal, a Spanish Fly, and a dignified idler, who seated himself as soon as he arrived. The heteroclitic creature, a dry, cold, carefully-dressed personage, declared the séance open, the object of which was to effect my cure by purely scientific means. I thought I was dead, but a Sow who acted as my nurse reassured me by saying—
“ ‘Do not be afraid; the good die, the bad remain.’
“ ‘Old mother,’ I replied, ‘you were not placed here to poison my ear, on the contrary’——and I turned on my miserable couch.
“The Leech then pronounced me delirious, and intimated his intention of sucking out the malady through a blood-vessel in my throat. Happily the Spanish Fly noticed that my tongue protruded in token of exhaustion, and proposed to apply what he termed a counter-irritant—that is, to set up a most painful competition between disease and remedy.