# Quackery Unmasked/Chapter IX

CHAPTER IX.
HOMŒOPATHY CONTINUED. NO UNIFORMITY IN HOMEOPATHIC PRACTICE—LIBRARIES—INFLUENCE OF HOMŒOPATHY UPON MEDICAL PRACTICE.
The homœopathic axiom, similia similibus curantur, never was, and never could be acted upon to any extent, because there are no articles employed as medicines which really produce effects similar to any diseases, except such diseases as they themselves produce; nor do homœopathic practitioners attempt to comply with this absurd aphorism. Practically it would be like attempting to quench fire with turpentine, or allay the thirst of a Dives with burning sand. But it is apparent that there is now no uniformity in the homœopathic practice—every man of that class does just what he thinks proper, so long as he does it all under the cloak of Homœopathy. If we turn our attention to this class of practitioners, we shall find that a portion of them have once been regularly educated, and have ​practised rational medicine for a time, but believing Homœopathy to be a great pecuniary improvement, have adopted it. Some of these men have respectable medical libraries, without which no one can be a safe practitioner; and should they ever shake off the dream of Homœopathy, might again become useful physicians.
But there is another class who know nothing but Homœopathy, and have had no opportunities for learning anything else. These are the genuine Simon Pures—their minds are as destitute of correct medical knowledge as their doses of sugar are of medicinal power. If you look into the office of one of this class, you will behold a gorgeous pyramid glistening with tiny vials, all apparently filled with potent attenuations. Dazzled by the glowing galaxy, you might be ready to conclude that the proprietor of all this must possess immense knowledge and skill. But we will not stop now to examine the contents of this medical arsenal, but pass on to examine the library—and what shall we find there? In some instances one or two manuals of homœopathic practice will comprise the whole. But if ​the incumbent has a full library, we may see upon his shelf Hahnemann's Organon, his Lesser Writings, Jahr's Manual, and perhaps the works of Laurie, Hull, Hering, Possart, Pulte, Teste, Emma Cote, and perhaps others of the same sort. Now a good medical library is as indispensable for a physician, as a law library is for an attorney; they are absolutely necessary in both cases. But for any practical purpose, a physician might just as well have his desk furnished with such works as Roderick Random, Don Quixotte, Tales of Arabian Knights, Gil Blas, and Gulliver's Travels, as such works as we have noticed. Men of education and talents must, from the bottom of their hearts, loathe such nebulous bundles of attenuated nonsense, and in their practice they must often, almost unconsciously, leap over the narrow bounds of Homœopathy, and unless pecuniary considerations bind them too strongly to the harness, they will ere long commit its useless trappings to the winds, and stand aloof from the crazy car which a breath of reason must blow to atoms.
It is a common proverb, that one extreme ​often follows another. It is sometimes so in medicine. As soon as physicians had let go the absurd idea that diseases were the work of demons, had given up their useless mysticisms, and begun to look upon disease as the effect of natural causes—when Anatomy, Physiology and Pathology had helped to explain morbid phenomena, and rational means had come to be employed, practitioners commenced a course of active treatment and went to work with all their might to cure all diseases by positive medication. The sick were taught in all cases to resort immediately to medical means, and the ability of physicians to control diseases was much exaggerated. Medicinal substances were supposed to possess curative properties which never belonged to them, and excessive drugging was the consequence. Regardless of the recuperative powers of the animal organism, the public demanded of physicians to be cured of all bodily ills by active measures; and striving to fulfil such expectations and requirements, practitioners were almost irresistibly driven to adopt the most efficient means. All diseases in all stages were ​submitted to active treatment, and physicians often gloried in their heroic exploits, whilst abused nature shook, and faltered, under the severity of their measures. Diseases which have been found to be self-limited in their course and duration, as well as those of a different character, were indiscriminately attacked in the same ruthless manner, and serious mischief often followed as the consequence. This was the state of things when Hahnemann came upon the stage. Heroic medication had arrived at its culminating point. Perhaps Hahnemann looked upon this state of things with disgust, and this may have been the cause of that hostility which he ever afterwards manifested towards the regular profession. However this may be, he made no attempt, by any rational means, to reform existing abuses, but instead of endeavoring by such means as common sense would suggest to correct the most obvious abuses, and at the same time to preserve every useful measure, and every important truth, he cast the whole aside at a single dash, and set up in its stead a scheme of practice quite as irrational, and quite as useless, as that which had ​obtained in the dark ages two thousand years before.
And yet, after all, perhaps Hahnemann did not live wholly in vain. Although not actually a messenger from Heaven in the light by which he was sometimes regarded by his disciples, he seems nevertheless to have had an important mission indirectly to accomplish. Through the use of his empty and inert means, we have been enabled to see what the innate powers of the animal organization can accomplish without medical interference. We have been taught to rely more upon these, and less upon art, and have seen the wonderful influence which the mind has over the bodily functions. Although Hahnemann made no direct improvements in medicine—although he made no reliable discoveries, and established no sound principles—although his whole scheme, with all its details, is frail as a spider's web, and must fall to atoms and be blown away by the wind—yet indirectly it may tend to enforce important truths. Henceforth the physician will look more carefully to the recuperative energies of nature, and from the ​darkness and confusion which Hahnemann spread around, a clearer light may shine upon the path of medical practice. Henceforth the physician will lay a gentler hand upon his patient, and pursue a more expectant course. The public may not require physicians less, but will demand less of them in the way of positive medication. Hahnemann came, not as he and his followers supposed, to lay the foundation of a new and durable system of medicine, nor to prostrate and crush the old, and hurl into oblivion the fruits of all past experience—not to gain anything for himself or his followers—but, unwittingly and unwillingly, to labor through a long life in aid of that very system that he wished to overthrow and demolish. And when every vestige of Hahnemannism shall have passed away "as the baseless fabric of a vision," and his name shall be coupled with that of Paracelsus—when the Organon shall have no more authority than Arabian Tales—even then, mankind may be indirectly benefited by this ineffable delusion.