Psychotherapy. James Joseph Walsh
of plants might be treated so as to be available for healing the sick and how they produced their effect."
Suggestion and Antimony.—This was an eminently scientific research. It brought the father of pharmacology to certain supposed discoveries which continued to occupy men's minds for centuries, yet ultimately proved to be utter misunderstandings of drug action, because suggestion played so large a role that it vitiated all the conclusions. The best known of Basil Valentine's books is the "Triumphal Chariot of Antimony," which contains many interesting scientific observations that were probably new at the time and which show their author's investigating spirit and his interest in scientific research.
In spite of his scientific advances, however, Valentine was wholly mistaken with regard to antimony. He used it in various diseases, and, of course, it always produced very definite effects on the bowels. These effects the physician could easily foretell. It was for the patient a proof that the physician knew much, both about his disease and his remedies, since he could prophesy the results. After the antimony had exerted its influence the patient was much more ready to think that he must get better, and the influence of this suggestion worked strongly in all cases where the affection was not serious, and undoubtedly helped the patient's resistive vitality to throw off disease. In weak patients its physical effect was lamentable. It still further reduced vitality, and when used by thoughtless physicians must have done great harm. In spite of this, however, antimony continued to be used for centuries. Shortly after the middle of the seventeenth century, when it was beginning to be neglected, antimony received a new lease of life as a consequence of its employment in a lingering illness of Louis XIV. The French king was attacked by what has since been recognized as typhoid fever. Many remedies were tried, but all in vain; the fever continued. When the fever had nearly run its course and the physicians were on the point of acknowledging that they could do nothing, and when a fatal termination seemed near, it was decided at a consultation to follow the advice of an old practitioner and use the old-fashioned remedy, antimony. Almost immediately the king began to get better. His improvement was quite naturally attributed to the last drug that he had taken, and antimony regained and held its remedial reputation for the next two centuries.
Such stories have always worked wonders in producing popular faith and even professional confidence in drugs. When great personages seem to be cured by certain remedies, ordinary logic ceases to act, and the strong power of suggestion comes in to strengthen whatever remedial influence there may be.
Calomel and Suggestion.—Such mistaken notions as to therapeutic efficiency are not confined to centuries before our own. During much of the nineteenth century calomel was employed as extensively as antimony had been in preceding centuries. Calomel was often given in doses which produced effects resembling those of antimony. Even in the small doses we now employ, it is apt to be a thorough purgative. In the twenty and forty grain doses, commonly administered by the country doctors of two generations ago at the beginning of practically every ailment, it was purgative—and worse. Its effects could, of course, be very strikingly seen, and what patients wanted were just such visible results of the doctor's prescription. Undoubtedly, then, the calomel did good, but not by its effect upon the patients' bodies, but upon their minds. Calomel is still used in ways that partake more of the old-fashioned ideas than we care to confess. Some of its supposed effects in stimulating the flow of bile have been placed in doubt by modern investigation, but we still use it empirically, and undoubtedly its effectiveness is partly due to the fact that many patients see the results in the purgation in dark coloration of the stools and are confident that improvement must follow—and it does. Perhaps at a subsequent operation we find the bile ducts effectively blocked and then learn for certain that the stool coloration observed was not biliary but due to a chemical reaction of the calomel itself.
Venesection and Its Suggestiveness.—Between the periods of antimony and calomel popularity venesection was the favorite remedy of physicians. It is hard to understand now the extent to which this practice was carried by the medical profession. People were bled for nearly every combination of symptoms. In severe cases the amount of bleeding practiced was almost incredible. Mirabeau, the great French orator, suffering from angina pectoris, was bled some eighty ounces in the course of forty-eight hours. In spite of this heroic treatment, which his physicians thought ought to have cured him, he died. We find it hard to understand how he lived so long. This, of course, was an exceptional case at the very height of the venesection furor, but it helps us to realize how convinced physicians were of the curative power of the practice.
Thoughtful physicians like Morgagni did not accredit it, or at least refused to allow it to be practiced on themselves, but its acceptance was practically universal. Probably no remedial measure ever generally used was calculated to be so effective as bleeding in producing a strong mental influence. The rather sacrificial preparations for it, the sight and the prick of the lancet, then the sight of the blood, the languor that followed, the reaction on nature's part to reproduce the lost material, all united to impress the patient's mind so deeply that it is easy to understand that all the reserve of mental force was now directed toward helping nature in the cure of whatever disease was present. Venesection itself in nine out of ten cases probably did more physical harm than good, but all the good came from its suggestion.
We are now apt to think of venesection as consisting only in the removal of some blood from a favorably situated vein, but we must not forget that in the olden time they bled from many veins, and that a particular vein was picked out because it was supposed to be connected in some way with the seat of the special trouble under treatment, and as a result there was a particular appeal to mental influence. A vein on the forehead was opened for the treatment of migraine and diseases of the eyes, on the nose in case of discharge from the eyes, back of the ears in chronic headache and in stuporous conditions, or beneath the chin when there was pain in the eyes, or in the nose, or in the jaws. The cephalic vein was opened for headache and for certain affections of the eyes and ears. Altogether there were thirty different veins opened for as many maladies. It was thought extremely important in the drawing of blood from the arm that that arm should be chosen which, for some anatomical or other reason, was supposed to be the more intimately connected with the affected part of the trunk or head. The psychotherapeutic factors at work in these cases are easy to understand, and their beneficial effects gave the practice a firm foothold in medicine.
Quinine and Suggestion.—Whenever any drug has secured a reputation its use has always been extended to many other diseases besides that for which it was definitely indicated. Quinine is a typical example. It is a specific for malaria and, properly administered in suitable doses, breaks up the fever—not because of any action upon the febrile condition itself, but because it kills the Plasmodium malariae whose reproduction in the blood brings about the paroxysms of fever. It was argued, however, that since quinine was good for one kind of fever it would probably be good in others, and all sorts of theories were invented and supported by supposed observations of the effect of quinine on various organs and tissues, even on the white blood cells, by which its efficacy in fever was supposed to be explained. Quinine was used in all sorts and conditions of fever, and acquired a reputation as a remedy that had the power even to abort conditions leading to all fevers. It was used in large doses for such conditions as cold, incipient pneumonia, or indeed any disease with a chill at the beginning, and was supposed to be a powerful prophylactic.
Now it is settled that while quinine in small doses is an excellent tonic, it has no effect at all upon fevers in themselves nor upon fever-producing conditions. Yet it is still administered by many who have not quite abandoned the old teachings as if it were a general febrifuge. In the meantime, the use of quinine as a prophylactic of colds and other minor febrile conditions has spread so that many people make themselves very uncomfortable by taking a large dose of quinine and whiskey whenever they fear they are going to have a cold. As a consequence they feel dull and heavy the next day, but assume that they would have been much worse than they are had they not taken the potent remedy the night before. Undoubtedly some of them are enabled by the suggestive value of the remedy and the continued suggestion of its unpleasant effects to throw off the lassitude that comes from some minor infection and are encouraged to get out into the air, when they might otherwise have stayed in the house. This enables them to get rid of their colds sooner than would be the case if they allowed themselves to be confined. Most of them, however, are