Abstract
Ehrenfried Walther von Tschirnhaus, mathematician, inventor, and correspondent of Spinoza, is often thought to have studied medicine at Leiden, though documentation of this fact has been lacking. Tschirnhaus’ medical education is here documented, along with the nature of his medical practice.
According to some sources one of Spinoza’s correspondents, the mathematician and inventor Ehrenfried Walther von Tschirnhaus, studied medicine (among other subjects) at the University of Leiden.1–6 Others state he studied mathematics, philosophy and natural science as well. 7 One writer claims that Tschirnhaus enrolled in the Faculty of Medicine in 1669. 7 Some specify that he had studied under Frans dele Boë Sylvius, one of the most prominent Professors of Medicine. 8 One goes so far as to say that, having studied under Sylvius, Tschirnhaus was awarded the degree of MD in 1674. 9
However, these authors do not quote primary sources to support their claims. The only verifiable datum generally cited is that Tschirnhaus enrolled as a student of Law in 1669, a fact attested in the still-extant records of the University of Leiden,10,11 but most sources suggest (by omission) that he devoted little time to this pursuit. 12 The one author who is very careful to cite primary sources claims that, beyond this, nothing is known about Tschirnhaus’ studies at Leiden.13,14 Yet the claim, one might even say the rumour, that Tschirnhaus studied medicine is so persistent that it is hard to dismiss out of hand.
Tschirnhaus published a medical work called Medicina Corporis but it is not convincing as the work of a medical doctor: it is, as Tschirnhaus himself says, based largely on his personal experience 15 and it neither cites standard medical works nor employs much medical terminology; 16 in short, it gives the appearance of being the work of a medical autodidact.
The unreliability of the secondary sources may be gauged by the statement in the Complete Dictionary of Scientific Biography that Tschirnhaus studied with the philosopher Arnold Geulincx, 8 a claim asserted repeatedly, as can readily be seen from an internet search for the names of Geulincx and Tschirnhaus.
That Tschirnhaus studied with Geulincx is most unlikely: Tschirnhaus arrived in Leiden at a time when the University was being devastated by a deadly plague that struck both Tschirnhaus and Geulincx, causing the former to delay his studies and proving fatal to the latter after Tschirnhaus arrived in Leiden but before he could begin his studies.17,18
One is tempted to agree with the remark of Eduard Winter: ‘The further I penetrated into the literature and above all the primary sources, the greater was my surprise that so little attention has been paid to a man of this degree of cultural significance … ’ 19
More than mere idle curiosity or antiquarian perseverance prompts this inquiry into Tschirnhaus’ education. The presence of so many medical doctors in Spinoza's circle has interpretive significance: if doctors are inclined to interpret a statement in a certain way, and Spinoza knows that he is addressing an audience with a high proportion of doctors, then we are justified in giving weight to the doctors’ interpretation.
Alan Gabbey, for example, has proposed that we might understand Spinoza’s concept of the ‘ratio of motion and rest' as ‘possibly an ingenious neo-Cartesian reformulation of the traditional Galenic medical doctrine of humoral balance … ’ 20 Gabbey, it should be noted, ultimately rejects his own suggestion, but the suggestion does gain weight on the interpretive principle just proposed. If we can confirm that Tschirnhaus had some sort of medical education, this interpretive principle gains more support, especially when one considers Tschirnhaus’ philosophical acuteness and close relationship with Spinoza.
The pursuit of knowledge
The only secondary source on Tschirnhaus that has even a slight indication of verifiability is the biography found in the second edition of NFJ Eloy’s Dictionnaire historique de la médecine, anciènne et moderne, where we read: L’Auteur ne peut être accusé d’avoir traité une matière étrangère au plan de ses études, puisqu’il s’étoit appliqué à la Médecine à Leyde sous Sylvius & Drelincourt, qu’il y avoit même assidument fréquenté les Colleges Théorique & Pratique, & qu’il s’étoit encore lié à Dresde avec un Médecin qui lui avoit donné un libre accès dans sa Bibliotheque, pour y puiser les lumières nécessaires à la composition de l’Ouvrage qu’il se proposoit de mettre au jour. (The Author cannot be accused of having treated a subject foreign to his plan of studies, for he had applied himself to the study of medicine at Leiden under [Frans dele Boë] Sylvius and [Charles] Drelincourt, and even assiduously attended the practical and theoretical classes, and was further associated in Dresden with a medical doctor who gave him free access to his library, so that he might find there the additional information needed for the work that he proposed to publish).
21
Ern. Walth. de Tschirnhausen medicina corporis, Lips. 1695. Inprimis ad diaetam respicit. Initia tamen etiam morborum docet profligare quiete perfecta & abstinentia & sudore spontaneo, rejectis medicis & medicamentis, quae nimis valida sunt, si cum corporis nostri fabrica conparentur. Idem opusculum prodiit germanice sub nomine der curiösen medicin anno 1705. & ejusdem zweyter theil, Luneburgi 1708. 12. * Suadet simplicissimos sanandi modos, neque diffitetur se sic satis usum esse Medicis, Sylvio in primis & Drelincourtio. (Ern. Walth. de Tschirnhausen, Medicina Corporis, Leipzig 1695. Deals primarily with diet. He teaches that one can overcome the primary causes of diseases by complete rest, abstinence from food and voluntary sweating, and by rejecting doctors and medicines, which he considers too strong in comparison with the makeup of our body. The same work was published in German in 1705 under the title Die curiöse Medicin,
23
followed by Part Two [Zweyter Theil] of the same work [Lüneburg, 1708]. Duodecimo. * He recommends the simplest methods of healing, but does not thereby deny that he has sufficiently consulted the medical doctors – primarily Sylvius and Drelincourt.)
24
Though we are still without a primary source, the articles on Tschirnhaus by Eloy and Boerhaave do provide us with a clue. In both cases one gets the impression that Tschirnhaus had to reply to critics who claimed that a work such as his Medicina Corporis could not be undertaken competently by someone without medical education. And there is indeed a work in which Tschirnhaus replies to criticisms of Medicina Corporis: it is his Der curiösen Medicin zweyter Theil: Darinnen die wichtigsten Objectiones wider den ersten Theil gründlich auffgelöset, und wie die Gesundheit durch leichte Mittel zu erhalten, fernerhin bekand gemacht wird, 26 a long title of which the relevant part might be translated as Medicina Corporis Part Two: In Which the Most Important Objections against the First Part are Thoroughly Resolved … (Die curiöse Medicin is the title given to the German translation of Medicina Corporis).
Tschirnhaus’ account of his education
This speculation turns out to be correct. Der curiösen Medicin zweyter Theil contains eight objections and replies. The first objection concerns precisely the accusation that Tschirnhaus’ lack of medical education made him unqualified to undertake the writing of such a book: OBJECTION 1 … [The writing of such a book] would therefore not be a task for a single person, still less for a person who did not make medicine his profession, nor for a person who had not the slightest scientific knowledge of the foremost things that had already been discovered both in the theory and practice [of medicine].27,28 I wasted no opportunity that I had to make progress in knowledge of the truth. Therefore, when I was at the Academy in Leiden, lodging with a physician, I jumped at this opportunity and – aside from my usual course of study of things necessary for a statesman
29
– I successfully completed not only a course on the fundamentals of medicine [Institutiones Medicinae] at the times [when it was taught] by the highly renowned Mr. [Frans dele Boë] Sylvius (as was common); but also a course in anatomy taught by the famous Mr. [Charles] Drelincourt, where clear instruction was given in everything that had then been discovered by the modern practitioners [Neoterici]. Moreover, I also there laid the foundation for the practice of medicine, so that I quite readily could write prescriptions, given the diagnostic signs of an illness … Thereafter, while traveling, I once again had the best opportunity to acquaint myself further with this field of study. After the completion of the above, whenever I had business at Court in these lands, I would lodge in the home of a famous medical practitioner, where I engaged in much conversation with him concerning these things and had free run of his beautiful library. For nothing excellent in the field of medicine can come forth quickly and without great diligence. Thus I have even continued such [study] up to the present.
30
Tschirnhaus’ statement does not present itself as a complete description of his course of study. Those who state that at Leiden he studied mathematics and physics may well be correct for, as Tschirnhaus says, he ‘wasted no opportunity to make progress in the knowledge of truth' and it is hard to imagine that he would have neglected courses in those subjects; nevertheless, in Der curiösen Medicin zweyter Theil he is silent about those subjects.
Though we have learned a significant amount about Tschirnhaus’ education at Leiden and elsewhere, one puzzle remains: Why have so many authors been so hard-pressed to provide this information? Why did those who say something about his education not cite this source? One probable cause is the general neglect of Tschirnhaus, as noted above by E Winter, preceded by Carl Reinhardt, who lamented that Tschirnhaus had been completely forgotten, even in his home State of Saxony. 31 And, obscure as Tschirnhaus was in general, his medical works had fallen into even greater obscurity. Johann Eduard Erdmann, the renowned historian of philosophy, devotes three dense pages to Tschirnhaus but dismisses the Medicina Corporis in a single sentence as being ‘of no importance'. 32 So little known is the work in question that Jonathan Israel, generally a very accurate bibliographer, seems to think that Der curiösen Medicin zweiter Theil is merely a subsequent edition of the ersten Theil. 33 One researcher who works on Tschirnhaus remarked to the author in a personal communication that he ‘was under the impression that the Curioese Medicin did not even exist'. 34 And if, despite these discouraging circumstances, one wished to consult this obscure and little-valued book, one would have to track down one of apparently only three surviving copies, a difficult task in the pre-internet era. 35 If one succeeded in the search, one would find in his hands a text written in a convoluted German style peppered with Latin words which (so the author is told) even native speakers find difficult to penetrate. Even so, it is surprising that some dedicated researcher did not turn up the autobiographical pages of Der curiösen Medicin zweyter Theil. The explanation apparently is that we are dealing with invisible information: one ‘knew' that a book called Der curiösen Medicin zweyter Theil was not the place to look for biographical information on Tschirnhaus and so, evidently, no one looked there.
Tschirnhaus as medical practitioner
Of course, two courses in medicine and several years of independent study do not make one a doctor. Yet, as mentioned the rumour that Tschirnhaus was a doctor is remarkably persistent. This rumour goes back at least as far as one of his earliest biographers, Bernard de Fontenelle. Fontenelle wrote two brief posthumous biographies – ‘Éloges' - of Tschirnhaus. In one, delivered before the French Académie Royale des Sciences, we read about Tschirnhaus’ death: Les Médecins ne trouvant pas en lui l'obéïssance qu'ils souhaitoient, parce qu'il étoit Médecin lui-même, l'abandonnérent [sic] bien-tôt, & il mourut l'onziéme [sic] Octobre suivant.
36
(The Doctors not finding that Compliance from him, they might expect, because he was a Physician himself, soon left him; and on the 11th of October following, he gave up the Ghost).
37
Les Médecins qui ne le trouvoient pas assez obéïssant, parce qu'il s'étoit rendu Médecin lui-même, l'abandonnerent [sic] bientôt. Il se traita comme il l'entendit … (The doctors, not finding him sufficiently compliant – for he on his own had made himself into a physician – soon abandoned him. He treated himself as he intended …)
38
The situation can be imagined from the words of Boerhaave and Eloy. Boerhaave (quoted above) writes: Initia tamen etiam morborum docet profligare quiete perfecta & abstinentia & sudore spontaneo, rejectis medicis & medicamentis, quae nimis valida sunt, si cum corporis nostri fabrica conparentur. (He teaches that one can overcome the first causes of diseases by complete rest, abstinence from food and voluntary sweating, and by rejecting doctors and medicines, which he considers too strong in comparison with the makeup of our body). Tels ont toujours été les Philosophes. Quand ils se sont mêlés de parler de Médecine, ils ont rarement évité les extrêmes.
45
(Philosophers have always been like this. When they have meddled in discussions of medicine, they have rarely avoided extremes).
Was Tschirnhaus, then, a doctor? If by ‘doctor' one means (as today in the developed world) a person holding the degree of MD or equivalent, then he certainly was no doctor. He would probably have referred to himself as a practicus, a practitioner, a word he uses to describe others in the field, contrasting them with medici, physicians.
47
It was a time of conflict between officially approved medical doctors and practitioners of other sorts,
48
and who got to be called a doctor was (as now) at least partly a matter of politics. The situation was complex and boundaries unclear. As Frank Huisman writes, It would be very misleading to depict the medical world of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries in terms of legal and illegal medical practice. To treat the medical practitioners of that period as belonging to separate and autonomous spheres would do an injustice to the complexity of a world in which self-help, neighbourly help and (semi-) professional help existed side by side. Instead of speaking of well-defined professions it would be better to consider medical reality in the ancien regime as a network, in which boundaries were diffuse and competencies often overlapped.
49
It is perhaps a change in terminology that led to the idea that Tschirnhaus was a medical doctor. Fontenelle uses the word médecin to describe Tschirnhaus, and the famous Dictionnaire de Trévoux (edition of 1771) defines médecin as ‘One who has studied the nature of the human body and the maladies that affect it, and who makes a profession of curing them; who practises the art of restoring or maintaining health' (‘Celui qui a étudié la nature du corps humain, & des maladies qui lui arrivent, qui fait profession de les guérir; qui fait l'art de rendre, ou de conserver la santé'), no mention being made of an academic degree or licence; the definition goes on to list a large variety of médecins including astrological, botanical, cosmetic, ialatraliptic, magical and musical practitioners, as well as vulneraries, those who treat wounds. Those holding a university degree constitute only a subset of the médecins so defined. 51 (Today, in the francophone world, a médecin would be expected to hold a Doctorate of Medicine and unlicensed practice would be illegal). Indeed, Leibniz honours Spinoza with the title of médecin, addressing a letter to him as medecin tres celebre [sic], though Spinoza was no medical doctor. 52 If Spinoza could be called a médecin, surely one would not withhold the title from Tschirnhaus who actually did study and practise medicine. It is worth noting that the English translator of Fontenelle's Éloge refers to those who treated Tschirnhaus as doctors, implying an academic degree in medicine, but for Tschirnhaus himself he uses the term physician. Be that as it may, the title of ‘doctor' was often accorded to practitioners who had no such formal qualification. 53
We may summarize our conclusions: Tschirnhaus received serious medical training at Leiden and continued his study independently. He was no doctor, but rather an alternative medical practitioner. Even so, those who valued his medical learning may have thought of him, and even referred to him, as a physician or doctor.
In any case, doctor or not, Tschirnhaus seems to have had enough medical knowledge to count as one of the medically knowledgeable recipients of Spinoza’s philosophy.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
The author would like to thank Fokko Jan Dijksterhius, Corinna Dranow, Raymond Eichmann, Usula Goldenbaum, Graeme Hunter, Michael Korey, Daniel Levine and Mark Reynolds for their kind assistance in the preparation of this paper. The author also expresses his gratitude to the Interlibrary Loan Department of the University of Arkansas Libraries, without whom this work would not have been possible.
