Paracelsus

Paracelsus was one of the most important Renaissance naturalists, a figure of towering importance in his age. Paracelsus, whose full name is: Philippus Aureolus Theophrastus Bombastus Von Hohenheim was born November 11, 1493, in Einsiedeln, Switzerland. He died on Sept. 24, 1541, in Salzburg, as the Archbishopric of Salzburg (now in Austria).

His main fame is as a German-Swiss physician and alchemist who established the role of chemistry in medicine. He published Der grossen Wundartzney (Great Surgery Book) in 1536 and a clinical description of syphilis in 1530. Paracelsus was the only son of a somewhat impoverished German doctor and chemist. Theophrastus, as he was first called, was a small boy when his mother died; his father then moved to Villach in southern Austria. There the boy attended the Bergschule, founded by the wealthy Fugger family of merchant bankers of Augsburg, where his father taught chemical theory and practice. Youngsters were trained at the Bergschule as overseers and analysts for mining operations in gold, tin, and mercury, as well as iron, alum, and copper-sulfate ores. The young Paracelsus learned from miners' talk of metals that "grow" in the earth, watched the seething transformations in the smelting vats, and perhaps wondered if he would one day discover how to transmute lead into gold, as the alchemists sought. Thus Paracelsus early gained insight into metallurgy and chemistry that, doubtless, laid the foundations of his later remarkable discoveries in the field of chemotherapy.

In 1507, at the age of 14, he joined the many vagrant youths who swarmed across Europe in the late Middle Ages, seeking famous teachers at one university after another. During the next five years Paracelsus is said to have attended the universities of Basel, Tübingen, Vienna, Wittenberg, Leipzig, Heidelberg, and Cologne but was disappointed with them all. He wrote later that he wondered how "the high colleges managed to produce so many high asses," a typical Paracelsian jibe.

He rejected traditional education and medicine. His attitude upset the schoolmen. "The universities do not teach all things," he wrote, "so a doctor must seek out old wives, gypsies, sorcerers, wandering tribes, old robbers, and such outlaws and take lessons from them. A doctor must be a traveler.

"Knowledge is experience." Paracelsus held that the rough-and-ready language of the innkeeper, barber, and teamster had more real dignity and common sense than the dry-as-dust scholasticism of Aristotle, Galen, and Avicenna, the recognized Greek and Arab medical authorities of his day. Paracelsus is said to have graduated from the University of Vienna with the baccalaureate in medicine in 1510, when he was 17. He was, however, delighted to find the medicine of Galen and the medieval Arab teachers criticized in the University of Ferrara, where, he always insisted, he received his doctoral degree in 1516 (university records are missing for that year). At Ferrara he was free to express his rejection of the prevailing view that the stars and planets controlled all the parts of the human body.

He is thought to have begun using the name "para-Celsus" (above or beyond Celsus) at about that time, for he regarded himself as even greater than Celsus, the renowned 1st-century Roman physician. Clearly a man of this type could never settle for long in any seat of learning, and so, soon after taking his degree, he set out upon many years of wandering through almost every country in Europe, including England, Ireland, and Scotland. He then took part in the "Netherlandish wars" as an army surgeon, at that time a lowly occupation. Later he went to Russia, was held captive by the Tatars, escaped into Lithuania, went south into Hungary, and again served as an army surgeon in Italy in 1521. Ultimately his wanderings brought him to Egypt, Arabia, the Holy Land, and, finally, Constantinople. Everywhere he sought out the most learned exponents of practical alchemy, not only to discover the most effective means of medical treatment but also--and even more important--to discover "the latent forces of Nature," and how to use them. He wrote: He who is born in imagination discovers the latent forces of Nature. . . . Besides the stars that are established, there is yet another - Imagination - that begets a new star and a new heaven. After about 10 years of wandering, he returned home in 1524 to Villach to find that his fame for many miraculous cures had preceded him.

When it became known that the Great Paracelsus, then aged 33, had been appointed town physician and lecturer in medicine at the University of Basel, students from all parts of Europe began to flock into the city. Pinning a program of his forthcoming lectures to the notice board of the university on June 5, 1527, he invited not only students but anyone and everyone. The authorities were scandalized and incensed by his open invitation. Ten years earlier Luther had circulated his Theses on Indulgences. Later, Paracelsus wrote: Why do you call me a Medical Luther? . . . I leave it to Luther to defend what he says, and I will be responsible for what I say. That which you wish to Luther, you wish also to me: you wish us both in the fire. Three weeks later, on June 24, 1527, surrounded by a crowd of cheering students, he burned the books of Avicenna, the Arab "Prince of Physicians," and those of the Greek physician Galen, in front of the university. No doubt his enemies recalled how Luther, just six and a half years before at the Elster Gate of Wittenberg on Dec. 10, 1520, had burned a papal bull that threatened excommunication.

Paracelsus seemingly remained a Catholic to his death, although it has been said that his books were placed on the Index Expurgatorius. Like Luther, he also lectured and wrote in German rather than Latin, for he loved the common tongue. Despite his bombastic blunders, he reached the peak of his tempestuous career at Basel. His name and fame spread throughout the known world, and his lecture hall was crowded to overflowing. He stressed the healing power of nature and raged against those methods of treating wounds, such as padding with moss or dried dung, that prevented natural draining. The wounds must drain, he insisted, for "If you prevent infection, Nature will heal the wound all by herself." He attacked venomously other medical malpractice of his time and jeered mercilessly at worthless pills, salves, infusions, balsams, electuaries, fumigants, and drenches, much to the delight of his student-disciples.

Paracelsus' triumph at Basel lasted less than a year, however, for he had made too many enemies. By the spring of 1528, he was at loggerheads with doctors, apothecaries, and magistrates. Finally, and suddenly, he had to flee for his life in the dead of night. Alone and penniless he wandered toward Colmar in Upper Alsace, about 50 miles north of Basel. He stayed at various places with friends. Such leisurely travel for the next eight years allowed him to revise old manuscripts and to write new treatises. With the publication of Der grossen Wundartzney in 1536 he made an astounding comeback; this book restored, and even extended, the almost fabulous reputation he had earned at Basel in his heyday. He became wealthy and was sought by royalty. In May 1538, at the zenith of this second period of notoriety, he returned to Villach again to see his old father, only to find that he had died four years previously.

In 1541 Paracelsus himself died in mysterious circumstances at the age of 48 at the White Horse Inn, Salzburg, where he had taken up an appointment under the prince-archbishop, Duke Ernst of Bavaria. His medical achievements were outstanding. In 1530 he angered the city council of Nürnberg by writing the best clinical description of syphilis up to that time, maintaining that it could be successfully treated by carefully measured doses of mercury compounds taken internally, thus foreshadowing the Salvarsan treatment of 1909. He stated that the "miners' disease" (silicosis) resulted from inhaling metal vapors and was not a punishment for sin administered by mountain spirits. He was the first to declare that, if given in small doses, "what makes a man ill also cures him," an anticipation of the modern practice of homeopathy. Paracelsus is said to have cured many persons in the plague-stricken town of Stertzing in the summer of 1534 by administering orally a pill made of bread containing a minute amount of the patient's excreta he had removed on a needle point. He was the first to connect goitre with minerals, especially lead, in drinking water. He prepared and used new chemical remedies, including those containing mercury, sulfur, iron, and copper sulfate, thus uniting medicine with chemistry, as the first London Pharmacopoeia, in 1618, indicates.

Paracelsus, in fact, contributed substantially to the rise of modern medicine, including psychiatric treatment. Carl Gustaf Jung, the psychiatrist, wrote of him that "We see in Paracelsus not only a pioneer in the domains of chemical medicine, but also in those of an empirical psychological healing science."

Some quotes from Paracelsus' writings follow:

On the art of medicine.

The physician comes from nature, from nature he is born; only he who receives his experience from nature is a physician, and not he who writes, speaks, and acts with his head and with ratiocination aimed against nature and her ways. The physician is only the servant of nature, not her master. Therefore it behooves medicine to follow the will of nature.

He who would be a good physician must find his faith in the rational light of nature, he must work with it, and not undertake anything without it.... For Christ would have you draw your faith from knowledge and not to live without knowledge.... If you desire to apply an art, let it be only in the light of nature, and not in superficial action. God has given to each man the light that was his due; so that he need not go astray. Who possesses a truth unless he has received it of a master? No one! We have the truth of the soul from God, otherwise we would not have it. Similarly we have the truths of philosophy from nature; she has taught us these without idle talk....

No disease comes from the physician, nor any medicine. But he can aggravate the course of the disease, and he can also improve it. What teacher can be better in this respect than nature herself? Nature possesses the knowledge and the meaning of all things visible; it is nature that teaches the physician. Since nature alone possesses this knowledge, it must be nature that compounds the recipe.... The art of healing comes from nature, not from the physician. Therefore the physician must start from nature, with an open mind.

It must not surprise the physician that nature is more than his art. For what can equal the forces of nature? He who has no expert knowledge of them has not mastered the art of medicine. In one herb there is more virtue and force than in all the folios that are read in the high colleges and that are not fated to live long. Every physician must be rich in knowledge, and not of that which is written in books; his patients should be his book, they will never mislead him.... and by them he will never be deceived. But he who is content with mere letters is like a dead man; and he is like a dead physician. As a man and as a physician, he kills his patient....

From his own head a man cannot learn the theory of medicine, but only from that which his eyes see and his fingers touch.... If a man were brought up in a monastery and had never... experienced anything but what takes place in the monastery... he would know nothing except these very monastic customs.... [Likewise,] our monastic scholar remains inexperienced and can never get to the fundament of things, whence everything comes; for this can never be discovered by pure theory.

Theory and practice should together form one, and should remain undivided. For every theory is also a kind of speculative practice and is no more and no less true than active practice. But what would you do if your speculation did not jibe with findings based on practice? Both must be true or both must be untrue. Look at the carpenter; first he builds his house in his head. But whence does he take this structure? From his active practice. And if he did not have this, and could not erect his structure in his mind: thus, both theory and practice rest on experience.

Practice should not be based on speculative theory; theory should be derived from practice. Experience is the judge; if a thing stands the test of experience, it should be accepted; if it does not stand this test, it should be rejected.

Every experiment is like a weapon which should be used according to its specific function-- as a spear is used to thrust, or a club to batter. It is the same with experiments. And just as a club is not suitable for thrusting, and a spear for battering, so the nature and manner of the experiments must not change. Hence it is very important to discover the true active force in experiments, in order to know in what form they can best be applied. The proper use of experiments requires an experienced man, who is skilled in thrust and blow, so that he can apply and master them, each according to its nature.

On the education of physicians.

The right path does not consist in speculation, but leads deep into experience. From experience the physician receives his help, and upon it rests all his skill. He must have rich knowledge based on experience, for he is born blind, and book knowledge has never made a single physician. For this purpose he needs not human, but divine things, therefore he should not treat truth light-headedly. He does not act for himself, but for God, and God bestows His grace upon him [the physician] so that he may come to the assistance of his fellow men in their needs. Medicine does not serve man's self-conceit but his pressing needs. And you must not abuse medicine to inflict damage on your fellow man, just as it is not meet to misuse the fruits of the earth. For it is not you who acts through medicine, but God, just as it is He who makes the corn grow, and not the peasant.

Your eyes, which take delight in experience, are your masters; for your own fantasies and speculations cannot advance you so far that you can boast of being a physician. Nor can you acquire the art of medicine by sophisms, or after the manner of the sophists, those pseudo-scientists, who imagine that their own wisdom reaches as far as the end of the earth and the sea and all the elements. And not only do they maintain this; they also believe that their speculation reveals how God comports Himself in Heaven and what is in His heart. But no physician should build on such a precarious foundation, and must never rely on such things.

The art of medicine cannot be inherited, nor can it be copied from books; it must be digested many times and many times spat out; one must always review it and knead it thoroughly, and one must be alert while learning it, one must not doze like peasants turning over pears in the sun.

Prolix writing has no place in medicine; concise writing and great intelligence, brief treatises but great force-- that is the standard by which the physician is measured. The longer the book, the less the intelligence; the longer the prescriptions, the poorer their virtue. Therefore each physician should achieve great things by means of small things. For nature is so excellent in its gifts that... it better befits a man to know one herb in the meadow, but to know it thoroughly, than to see the whole meadow without knowing what grows on it.

It is better to know and to understand one remedy than to rummage through the great libraries of the monasteries, where of a thousand pages barely one is understood....

The physician does not learn everything he must know and master at high colleges alone; from time to time he must consult old women, gypsies, magicians, wayfarers, and all manner of peasant folk and random people; for these have more knowledge about such things than all the high college.... Therefore study each day without respite, investigate and observe diligently; despise nothing, and do not lightly put too much trust in yourself.... Also, learn from those who are more experienced than you, for who can pretend to know everything? Who can be everywhere and know where all things lie?... The arts are not confined within one man's country; they are distributed over the whole world. They are not found in one man alone or in one place, but must be gathered together, sought out, and taken where they happen to be.... He who would explore nature must tread her books with his feet. Holy Scripture is explored through its letters, but nature is explored from country to country; it has as many pages as there are countries. This is the code of nature, and thus must her leaves be turned....

Therefore travel and explore everything, and whatever comes your way, take it without scorn, and do not be ashamed to do so on the ground that you are a doctor, a master.

The foundations of medicine.

Medicine rests upon four pillars-- philosophy, astronomy, alchemy, and ethics. The first pillar is the philosophical knowledge of earth and water; the second, astronomy, supplies its full understanding of that which is of fiery and airy nature; the third is an adequate explanation of the properties of all the four elements-- that is to say, of the whole cosmos-- and an introduction into the art of the their transformations; and finally, the fourth shows the physician those virtues which must stay with him up until his death, and it should support and complete the three other pillars....

If the physician understands things exactly and sees and recognizes all illnesses in the macrocosm outside man, and if he has a clear idea of man and his whole nature, then only then is he a physician. Then he may approach the inside of man; then he may examine his urine, take his pulse, and understand where each thing belongs. This would not be possible without profound knowledge of the outer man, who is nothing other than heaven and earth....

It is well known and evident that in the course of time heaven brings many diseases... and that no healthy person can protect himself from them. A healthy man must submit to heaven and every day he must await what it sends him. For the course of the heavens is wonderful, and just as wonderfully are men placed in nature.

The physician should prescribe physic composed in accordance with the patient's blood and flesh, with his country's ways and his innate nature-- harsh, crude, hard, gentle, mind, virtuous, friendly, tender, etc.. But this is not the essence of his art; the long and short of it is what he truly accomplishes.

The physician must give heed to the region in which the patient lives, that is to say, to its type and peculiarities. For one country is different from another; its earth is different, as are its stones, wines, bread, meat, and everything that grows and thrives in a specific region. This means that each country, in addition to the general properties common to the whole world, also has its own specific properties. The physician should take this into account and know it, and accordingly he should also be a cosmographer and geographer, well versed in these disciplines.