“Comparisons and propositions concerning similarities,” says a celebrated empiric investigator (Berzelius, Part 4, P. 13) “depend upon the individuality of things to be compared; the comparison which best corresponds with the individuality of most of the things to be compared, is naturally the one to be followed”. In our art, homoeopathy, where everything depends upon similarity, shall we rest content with this much and stop at individualities? We might, then, as well admit that any old woman knows as much of what is alike.
Old women often do know, as in the case of a newly born infant, one declaring it to be like the father, another like the mother, and a third that it resembles no one in particular, thus leaving the matter open for gossip. Consult any portrait painter and hear what he has to say about peoples opinion of what is, or is not, a likeness. I myself, know of a woman who positively refused to see a likeness to her husband in his daguerrotype, because anyone could see the wart on his face was on the wrong side! Another person, looking wise, gave assurance that the matter could not be otherwise, because “optically the rays of light,” etc., etc. And yet the woman was in the right.
Again I know of a man who sanctioned the mending his wifes teakettle with her daguerrotype because, In the first place, he said, “she looks as dark as a mulatto in the picture, and secondly, it shows a hand not unlike a ham, thirdly, she looks made enough to bite me; while everyone knows my wife has a beautiful, fair complexion, a neat little hand, and is always sweet and kind!”.
Maybe the matter rests with instinct; a mysterious coming to light of the creative artistic genius; the born physician sprung ready made from the hand of his Maker, like a bee from its cell, always ready to do the trick. Is it mechanical instinct or mysterious divination that gives the experienced practitioner that nice sense of perception by which he practically smells out the suitable remedy? It is not my purpose to interfere with the practitioner who appeals to instinctive selection for I have a strong leaning to that way myself. Anyhow there are many things under the sun, likewise the moon, not dreamt of by our philosophers; all I ask is that such like talk should be kept out of science. If such an evil were allowed to spread it would soon put an end to all system and order, since everyone has his pet opinion, his own instinct, and marks time in his particular way. Who then is to know who is right?.
For an answer let us first turn to the mathematicians, to whom first rank is conceded, and next to the philosophers who pretend to a kind of superiority; next to good common sense, to balance things, to the naturalists, who, in a way, share our difficulties, and finally make appeal to our own experience as to what is meant by similar.
What is called similar, like all else in mathematics, is sufficiently definite but can be of little use to us unless it is raised to universality. Mathematically speaking like means that which is the same in respect to size; sometimes also when differing in size, but congruous where both are in accord and two figures cover each other. Although, at first sight, it may seem of little use to us, it yet appears that the doctrine of congruence might be here applied. Since we call like all that which is alike in substance, and similar what is alike in respect to form, it must follow that the similar, which is conditioned by form, must include a likeness of that which determines form. By the rule of like proportions we may reach conclusions as to unknown quantities. Mathematicians have found the law of analogy of the very greatest use; likewise pathologists and other natural scientists. We should be able to do the same in materia medica and in therapy, a matter which needs further elucidation.
The definition of similarity as “likeness of that which is essential, important, intrinsic, determinative”, after all, would fit into other provinces of mathematics. Like relations are always similar. For the same reason I never could become interested in the quarrels over theories concerning parallels, because obviously a higher conception of similarity, applied to lines, explains the parallels, be they straight or crooked, thereby making superfluous both straight as well as crooked proofs.
In conclusion I must make mention of the controversy between philosophers in reference to analogy and deductions by analogy. Reasoning by analogy I have always claimed to be the only correct method. It is the golden theory of Pythagoras, by which heaven and earth are unlocked. Nevertheless, like the law of quadrature of triangles, it has been dubbed Pons asinorum by dunces. The statement that deductions by analogy are untrustworthy is ridiculous. If the result is wrong, the fault is not in the method of reasoning but because it is misapplied, which holds good in all things.
It strikes me in a manner as if one should not use ones eyes, because, as it is foolishly expressed,our senses deceive us, when all the while our mistakes happen because we draw faulty conclusions through our sense impressions; or again as if one would say we should discard the rule of three because schoolboys sometimes fail to get right results when doing their examples. Obviously analogous is the same as that which mathematicians call similar, meaning intrinsically alike. If our angles and corresponding sides are properly placed we will be able to take measurements into distance with the same accuracy as does the geometer. It come to the same as with the simple rule of three. As surely as anyone having three lines can find the proportional fourth, or so to speak, the fourth term, just as surely must it come our right in our reasonings by analogy if the premises are right.
This brings us to Part Second, namely, the question addressed to philosophers: What is similar?.
If I begin my task with a sign I must beg that this be put down to my ignorance of the subject. After all manner of research among philosophies I have found nothing but nothings. Every now and then I came across a something which turned out to be nothing, and then again a nothing which claimed to be something. Hollow spectres arose on all sides to dishearten me.
Is it any wonder I lost my temper with the old dame? No doubt there are many learned men to whom I should do reverence, cap in hand; several more who command admiration in more ways than one, to whom I pay my modest tribute, for after all it is not my purpose to throw everything into the same pot promiscuously, but I cannot be expected to spare the entire party for the sake of a few notables. It cannot be helped, for they not give us the truth as we physicians need it. This without exception.
Now, in 1840, with the goal in sight, after a period of twelve years of research in which the daily question has been, “What is the true meaning of similar?” without claiming to have read all, I find myself shuddering at the things I have read. I have followed many a circuitous route, mostly leading nowhere, through all manner of sciences and their encyclopaedias, studying dictionaries, conversation and other lexicons trying to find out what is similar, what like, and what contrary, looking first for explanations, then for corroboration of my own conjectures. I gathered much, but least of all from philosophers; from them in fact nothing, unless it were how NOT to do the thing. As far as I know, no philosopher ever took the trouble to explain these simple concepts. At any rate these learned gentlemen seem to have cared more for words than their meanings.
Philosophies hang upon the tree of science very much like nests of tailor-birds, artfully constructed form fibres and threads of bark; only the birds have no technical terms. Examine such a nest carefully, as I have often done; you will find it ingeniously hanging together and firmly fastened to the tree, but either empty or containing a few eggshells, or possibly a couple of timidly peeping, naked, little objects, sorry representatives of the grand ideas of nature. Over premises which philosophers should take for granted, as do mathematicians by their axioms, they vex themselves in their efforts to prove; and that which we desire to have explained they dismiss with an hypothesis. From this nothing sensible can come.
If I am be permitted to refer to the fruits of my earnest labors so often published in a humorous way, I can give assurance that my fun is to be taken seriously.
