While I indulged in these sad meditations, and felt for my host while I felt no less for myself, I saw the physician approach who had been sent for. He was a tall, thin man, with a quick step, a lively, piercing eye, a sallow complexion, and very courteous manners, and always willing to display the ready flow of words for which he was remarkable. I felt great curiosity to witness the skill of this Lunar Aesculapius, and he was evidently pleased with the interest I manifested. It turned out that he was well acquainted with the Brahmin; and learning from the latter my wish, he conducted me into the room of our sick host. We found him lying on a straw bed, and strangely altered within a few hours. The physician, after feeling his pulse, (which, as every country has its peculiar customs, is done here about the temples and neck, instead of the wrist) after examining his tongue, his teeth, his water, and feces, proposed bleeding. We all walked to the door, and ventured to oppose the doctor’s prescription, suggesting that the copious evacuations he had already experienced, might make bleeding useless, if not dangerous.

“How little like a man of sense you speak,” said the other; “how readily you have chimed in with the prejudices of the vulgar! I should have expected better things from you: but the sway of empiricism is destined yet to have a long struggle before it receives its final overthrow. I have attacked it with success in many quarters; but when it has been prostrated in one place, it soon rises up in another. Have you, my good friend, seen my last essay on morbid action?”

The Brahmin replied, that he had not yet had an opportunity of meeting with it.

“I am sorry you have not,” said the other. “I have there completely demonstrated that disease is an unit, and that it is the extreme of folly to divide diseases into classes, which tend but to produce confusion of ideas, and an unscientific practice. Sir,” continued he, in a more animated tone, “there is a beautiful simplicity in this theory, which gives us assurance of its conformity to nature and truth. It needs but to be seen to be understood but to be understood, to be approved, and carried into successful operation.”

The Brahmin asked him if this unit did not present different symptoms on different occasions.

“Certainly,” he replied: “from too much or too little action, in this set of vessels or that, it is differently modified, and must be treated accordingly.”

“This unit, then,” said my friend, “assumes different forms, and requires various remedies? Is there not, then, a convenience in separating these modifications (or forms, if you prefer it) from one another, by different names?”

“Stop, my friend; you do not apprehend the matter. I will explain.” At this moment two other gentlemen, of a grave aspect and demeanour, entered the room. They also were physicians of great reputation in the city. They appeared to be formal and reserved towards one another, but they each manifested still more shyness and coldness towards the learned Shuro. They entered the sick chamber, and having informed themselves of the state of the patient, all three withdrew to a consultation.

They had not been long together, before their voices grew, from a whisper, so loud, that we could distinctly hear all they said. “Sir,” says Dr. Shakrack, “the patient is in a state of direct debility: we must stimulate, if we would restore a healthy action. Pour in the stimulantia and irritentia, and my life for it, the patient is saved.”

“Will you listen to me for one moment?” says Dr. Dridrano, the youngest of the three gentlemen. “It may be presumption for one of my humble pretensions to set myself in opposition to persons of your age, experience, and celebrity; but I am bound, by the sacred duties of the high functions I have undertaken to perform, to use my poor abilities in such a way as I can, to advance the noble science of medicine, and, in so doing, to give strength to the weak, courage to the disheartened, and comfort to the afflicted. Gentlemen, I say, I hope if my simple views should be found widely different from yours, you will not impute it to a presumption which is as foreign to my nature as it would be unsuited to your merits. I consider the human body a mere machine, whose parts are complicated, whose functions are various, and whose operations are liable to be impeded and frustrated by a variety of obstacles. There is, you know, one set of tubes, or vessels, for the blood; another for the lymph; another for the sweat; and so on. Now, although each of these fluids has its several channels, yet, if by any accident any one of them is obstructed, and there is so great an accumulation of the obstructed fluid that it cannot find vent by its natural channel, or duct, then you must carry off the redundancy by some other; for you well know, that that which can be carried off by one, can be carried off by all. Gentlemen, I beg you not to turn away; hear me for a moment. Then, if the current of the blood be obstructed, I make large draughts of urine, or sweat or saliva, or of the liquor amnii; and I find it matters little which of these evacuants I resort to. This system, to which, with deference to your longer experience, I have had the honour of giving some celebrity in Morosofia, explains how it is that such various remedies for the same disease have been in vogue at different times. They have all had in town able advocates. I could adduce undeniable testimonials of their efficacy, because, in fact, they are all efficacious; and it seems to me a mere matter of earthshine, whether we resort to one or the other mode of restoring the equilibrium of the human machine; all that we have to do, being to know when and to what extent it is proper to use either. Determine, then, gentlemen, you, for whose maturer judgment and years I feel profound respect, whether we shall blister, or sweat, or bleed, or salivate.”

Dr. Shuro, who had manifested his impatience at this long harangue, by frequent interruptions, and which Dridrano’s show of deference could scarcely keep down, hastily replied: “You have manifestly taken the hint of your theory from me; and because I have advanced the doctrine that disease is an unit, you come forward now, and insist that remedy is an unit too.”

“You do me great honour, learned sir,” said Dridrano. “Surely it would be very unbecoming, in one of my age and standing, to set up a theory in opposition to yours, but it would be yet more discreditable to be a plagiarist; and, with all due respect for your superior wisdom, it does seem to my feeble intellect, that no two theories can be more different. You use several remedies for one disease: I admit several diseases, and use one remedy.”

“And does not darkness remind us of light,” replied Shuro, “by the contrast? heat of cold north of south?”

“Gentlemen,” then said Shakrack, who had been walking to and fro, during the preceding controversy, “as you seem to agree so ill with each other, I trust you will unite in adopting my course. Let us begin with this cordial; we will then vary the stimulus, if necessary, by means of the elixir, and you will see the salutary effects immediately. A loss of blood would still farther increase the debility of the patient; and I appeal to your candour, Dr. Shuro, whether you ever practised venesection in such a case?”

“In such a case? ay, in what you would call much worse. I was not long since called in to a man in a dropsy. I opened a vein. He seemed from that moment to feel relief; and he so far recovered, that after a short time I bled him again. I returned the next day, and had I arrived half an hour sooner, I should have bled him a third time, and in all human probability have saved his life.”

“If you had stimulated him, you might have had an opportunity of making your favourite experiment a little oftener,” said Shakrack.

“You are facetious, sir; I imagine you have been using your own panacea somewhat too freely to-day.”

“Not so,” said his opponent, angrily; “but if you are not more guarded in your expressions, I shall make use of yours, in a way you won’t like.”

Upon which they proceeded to blows, Dridrano all the while bellowing, “I beg, my worthy seniors, for the honour of science, that you will forbear!”

The noise of the dispute had waked the patient, who, learning the cause of the disturbance, calmly begged they would give themselves no concern about him, but let him die in peace. The domestics, who had been for some time listening to the dispute, on hearing the scuffle, ran in and parted the angry combatants, who, like an abscess just lanced, were giving vent to all the malignant humours that had been so long silently gathering.

In the mean while, the smooth and considerate Dr. Dridrano stept into the sick room, with the view of offering an apology for the unmannerly conduct of his brethren, and of tendering his single services, as the other sages of the healing art could not agree in the course to be pursued; when he found that the patient, profiting by the simple remedies of the Brahmin, and an hour’s rest, had been so much refreshed, that he considered himself out of danger, and that he had no need of medical assistance; or, at any rate, he was unwilling to follow the prescriptions of one physician, which another, if not two others, unhesitatingly condemned. Each one then received his fee, and hurried home, to publish his own statement of the case in a pamphlet.

The Brahmin, who had never left the sick man’s couch during his sleep, now that he was out of danger, was greatly diverted at the dispute. But he good-naturedly added, that, notwithstanding the ridiculous figure they had that day made, they were all men of genius and ability, but had done their parts injustice by their vanity, and the ambition of originating a new theory. “With all the extravagance,” said he, “to which they push their several systems, they are not unsuccessful in practice, for habitual caution, and an instinctive regard for human life, which they never can extinguish, checks them in carrying their hypotheses into execution: and if I might venture to give an opinion on a subject of which I know so little, and there is so much to be known, I would say, that the most common error of theorists is to consider man as a machine, rather than an animal, and subject to one set of the laws of matter, rather than as subject to them all.

“Thus,” he continued, “we have been regarded by one class of theorists as an hydraulic engine, composed of various tubes fitted with their several fluids, the laws and functions of which have been deduced from calculations of velocities, altitudes, diameters, friction, &c. Another class considered man as a mere chemical engine, and his stomach as an alembic. The doctrine of affinities, attractions, and repulsions, now had full play. Then came the notion of sympathies and antipathies, by which name unknown and unknowable causes were sought to be explained, and ignorance was cunningly veiled in mystery. But the science will never be in the right tract of improvement, until we consider, conjointly, the mechanical operations of the fluids, the chemical agency of the substances taken into the stomach, and the animal functions of digestion, secretion, and absorption, as evinced by actual observation.” I told him that I believed that was now the course which was actually pursued in the best medical schools, both of Europe and America.

Our worthy host, though very feeble, had so far recovered as to dress himself, and receive the congratulations of his household, who had all manifested a concern for his situation, that was at once creditable to him and themselves. Expressing our gratitude for his kind attentions, and promising to renew our visit if we could, we bade him adieu.

We took a different road home from the way we had come, and had not walked far, before we met a number of small boys, each having a bag on his back, as large as he could stagger under. Surprised at seeing children of their tender years, thus prematurely put to severe labour, I was about to rail at the absurd custom of this strange country, when my friend checked me for my hasty judgment, and told me that these boys were on their way to school, after their usual monthly holiday. We attended them to their schoolhouse, which stood in sight, on the side of a steep chalky hill. The Brahmin told me that the teacher’s name was Lozzi Pozzi, and that he had acquired great celebrity by his system of instruction. When the boys opened their bags, I found that instead of books and provisions, as I had expected, they were filled with sticks, which they told us constituted the arithmetical lessons they were required to practise at home. These sticks were of different lengths and dimensions, according to the number marked on them; so that by looking at the inscription, you could tell the size, or by seeing or feeling the size, you could tell the number.

The master now made his appearance, and learning our errand, was very communicative. He descanted on the advantages of this manual, and ocular mode of teaching the science of numbers, and gave us practical illustrations of its efficacy, by examining his pupils in our presence. He told the first boy he called up, and who did not seem to be more than seven or eight years of age, to add 5, 3, and 7 together, and tell him the result. The little fellow set about hunting, with great alacrity, over his bag, until he found a piece divided like three fingers, then a piece with five divisions, and lastly, one with seven, and putting them side by side, he found the piece of a correspondent length, and thus, in less than eight minutes and a half, answered, “fifteen.” The ingenious master then exercised another boy in subtraction, and a third in multiplication: but the latter was thrown into great confusion, for one of the pieces having lost a division, it led him to a wrong result.

The teacher informed us that he taught geometry in the same way, and had even extended it to grammar, logic, rhetoric, and the art of composition. The rules of syntax were discovered by pieces of wood, interlocking with each other in squares, dovetails, &c., after the manner of geographical cards; and as they chanced to fit together, so was the concordance between the several parts of speech ascertained. The machine for composition occupied a large space; different sets of synonymes were arranged in compartments of various sizes. When the subject was familiar, a short piece was used; when it was stately or heroic, then the longest slips that could be found were resorted to. Those that were rounded at the ends were mellifluous; the jagged ones were harsh; the thick pieces expressed force and vigour. Where the curves corresponded at one end, they served for alliteration; and when at the other, they answered for rhyme. By way of proving its progress, he showed us a composition by a man who was deaf and dumb, in praise of Morosofia, who, merely by the use of his eyes and hands, had made an ingenious and high-sounding piece of eloquence, though I confess that the sense was somewhat obscure. We went away filled with admiration for the great Lozzi Pozzi’s inventions.

Having understood that there was an academy in the neighbourhood, in which youths of maturer years were instructed in the fine arts, we were induced to visit it; but there being a vacation at that time, we could see neither the professors nor students, and consequently could gain little information of the course of discipline and instruction pursued there. We were, however, conducted to a small menagerie attached to the institution, by its keeper, where the habits and accomplishments of the animals bore strong testimony in favour of the diligence and skill of their teachers.

We there saw two game-cocks, which, so far from fighting, (though they had been selected from the most approved breed,) billed and cooed like turtle-doves. There was a large zebra, apparently ill-tempered, which showed his anger by running at and butting every animal that came in his way. Two half-grown llamas, which are naturally as quiet and timid as sheep, bit each other very furiously, until they foamed at the mouth. And, lastly, a large mastiff made his appearance, walking in a slow, measured gait, with a sleek tortoise-shell cat on his back; and she, in turn, was surmounted by a mouse, which formed the apex of this singular pyramid.

The keeper, remarking our unaffected surprise at the exhibition, asked us if we could now doubt the unlimited force of education, after such a display of the triumph of art over nature. While he was speaking, the mastiff, being jostled by the two llamas still awkwardly worrying each other, turned round so suddenly, that the mouse was dislodged from his lofty position, and thrown to the ground; on seeing which, the cat immediately sprang upon it, with a loud purring noise, which being heard by the dog, he, with a fierce growl, suddenly seized the cat. The llamas, alarmed at this terrific sound, instinctively ran off, and having, in their flight, approached the heels of the zebra, he gave a kick, which killed one of them on the spot.

The keeper, who was deeply mortified at seeing the fabric he had raised with such indefatigable labour, overturned in a moment, protested that nothing of the sort had ever happened before. To which we replied, by way of consolation, that perhaps the same thing might never happen again; and that, while his art had achieved a conquest over nature, this was only a slight rebellion of nature against art. We then thanked him for his politeness, and took our leave.