The Sanguineous Temperament

Editor’s Note: While reading Homeopathic Materia Medica, in every other medicine, we find the mention of “temperaments”, although the temperaments are not much important in prescribing homeopathic medicine in a clinical setup, but we need to know what is exact prevalent meaning of “temperaments” at time of development of material medica in 19^th century. Following is an article from The Philadelphia Journal of Homeopathy, June 1855, Vol IV, No. III on Temperaments.
For convenience of readers article is divided in three parts,
Part I Sanguineous Temperament
Part II Bilious Temperament
Part III Melancholic Temperament

The

Philadelphia

Journal of Homoeopathy

Vol IV  - June, 1855 – No. III

Original Communications

Part I

Temperaments

The following article on temperaments is from the pen of George Bencroft, the Historian; a writer whose style, rich in thought, and brilliant in expression, will always repay the careful reader, whose taste for the beautiful it pleases no less than it inspires, invigorates and instructs. Life-like pictures such as these are to medical science as the blossoms from the seed, or the luscious fruit droppings from the tree of life for the healing of the nations. We admire such attempts to popularize science. Mobilization is the watch-word of the present age. He, who renders knowledge and science attractive, is spreading wisdom broadcast. He is preparing from the fruits, the productions of former ages, a rich repast for the present and future generations. He is rendering available stores of wealth which had been long hoarded up, and adapting to the taste of the multitude that which had only been appreciated by the educated and refined. He is elevating the masses, changing the vulgar herd to men of more than royal race, and enstamping the lineaments of Divinity upon a common Humanity.

Medical science is evidently adapted to this mobilization, to be portrayed in attractive forms, and by the beauty of its investing drapery, to attach to itself those who are, or who may become, able to appreciate the true, the useful, and the good.
The teaching of the various departments of medical science is destined to undergo great and important changes. A new set of teachers are yet to arise, whose teachings shall infuse new life into all its departments. Men, who, like George Bancroft, are able by the beauty of imagery with which they shall invest each subject, to cause to be seen and felt the brilliancy of those coruscating images of light, which have usually been presented only in dry detail. We bespeak for the following article the favorable notice of our readers.

“The Sanguineous Temperament”

“ The temperament which in its external appearance claims the highest degree of physical beauty is the sanguineous. Its forms are moulded by nature to perfect symmetry and invested with a complexion of the choicest lustre. The hands of the artist have embodied its outlines in the majestically graceful Apollo of the Vatican. Its delicate shape is “the dream of love.” A mild and clear eye promptly reveals the emotions of the heart; the veins swell with copious and healthful streams, and the cheek is quick to mantle with the crimson current. The breath of life is inhaled freely; the chest is high and expanded like that of “a young Mohawk warrior;” the pulse is active but gentle; the hair light; the skin soft and moist; the face unclouded; and, in short, the whole organization is characterized by the vigor and facility of its functions.”

“The moral character of those who belong to this temperament is equally pleasing. They are amiable companies, every where welcome, and requiting the kindness shown them by gentleness of temper and elegance of manners. They are distinguished for playfulness of fancy and ready wit. Their minds are rapid in their conceptions, and pass readily from one subject to another, so that they can change at once from gayety to tears, or from gravity to mirth. Of a happy memory, a careless and unsuspecting mien, a contented humour, a frank disposition, they form no schemes of deep hypocrisy or remote ambition. They are naturally affectionate, yet fickle in their friendships; prompt to act, yet uncertain of purpose. They excel in labors which demand a most earnest but short application. They conquer at a blow, or abandon the game. They gain their point by a coup de main, never by a tedious siege. They are easily excited, but easily calmed; they take fire at a word, but are as ready to forgive. They dislike profound meditation, but excel in prompt ingenuity;   they succeed in light exercises of fancy, in happily contracting incongruous objects, and inventing singular but just comparisons. They are given to display, and passionately fond of being admired. Inconstant by nature, they are full of sympathy, and are eminently capable of transferring themselves in imagination into other scenes and condition. Hence they sometimes are successful in the lighter branches of letters; but they are too little persevering to excel. A continuance of intellectual labor is odious to them; and in no case have they been known to unite the deep sentiments of philosophy to eloquent language. They are gayest members of society, and yet the first to feel for others. With a thousand faults, their kindness of heart makes them always favorites. In their manners they unite a happy audacity with winning good nature; their conversation is gay, varied and sparkling; never profound, but never dull; sometimes trivial, but often brilliant. Love is their ruling passion; but it is a frolic love to which there are as many cynosures as stars. It is Rinaldo in the chains which he will soon break to submit to new ones. Occasionally they join in the contest for glory. In council they never have the ascendant; but of all executive officers they are the best. They often are thrown by some happy chance to be at the head of affairs; but they never retain power very long. They are sometimes even delighted with camps; but the field of arms is for them only an affair for a holiday; they go to battle as merrily as to a dance, and are soon weary of the one and the other. Life is to them a merry tale; if they are ever sad it is but from compassion or the love of change; and they breathe out their sighs chiefly in sonnets. Thus they seem made for sunshine and prosperity. Nature has given them the love of enjoyment, and blessed them with the gift of cheerfulness. In short, this temperament is to the rest what youth is to the other periods of life; what spring is to the succeeding seasons; the time of freshness and flowers, of elastic hope and ansated desires.”

“For examples of this temperament go to the abodes of the contented, the houses of the prosperous. Ask for the gayest among the gay in scenes of pleasure; search for those who have stilled the voice of ambition by the gentle influence of contented affection. In the mythology of the ancients, among whom generally character stood forth in bolder relief, numerous illustrations may be found. We may mention Paris, who, as the poet says, went to battle like the war-horse prancing to the river’s side, and who valued the safety of his country less than the gratification of his love; or Leander, whose passion the waters of the Hellespont could not quench; or the too fascinating Endymion, who drew Diana herself from her high career. In history, we have the dangerous Alcibiades, who surpassed all other Athenians in talent, the Spartans in self-denial, the Thracians in abandoned luxury; Mark Antony, who for a time was the first man in Rome, but gave up the world for Cleopatra; Nero, the capricious tyrant, whose tomb was yet scattered with flowers; the English Leicester, for whom two queens contended; the gallant Hotspur, of the British drama; the French Duke de Richelieu; the good King Henry; the bold and amiable Francis; or to take quite a recent example, the brave and gallant, but passionate and wavering Murat, now, in time of truce, displaying his splendid dresses and his skill in horsemanship before the admiring Cossacks; and anon in the season of strife charging the enemy’s cavalry with fearless impetuosity. But we have the most striking illustration of the sanguineous temperament, when uncontrolled by moral principle, in the life and character of Demetrius, the famed besieger of cities. The son of Antigonus was tall, and of beautiful symmetry. Grace and majesty were united in this countenance, so that he inspired at once both affection and awe. In his hours of leisure he was an agreeable profligate; in his moments of action no man equaled him in diligence and dispatch. Like Bacchus he was terrible in war, but in peace a voluptuary. At one time he hazards honor and liberty for the indulgence of his love; and at another his presence of mind and his daring make him victorious in the bloodiest naval battle of which any record exists. Though sometimes capriciously cruel, he was naturally humane. By turns a king and a pensioner, a hero and a profligate, a tyrant and a liberator, he conquered Ptolemy, besieged Thebes, gave freedom to Athens, was acknowledged to be the most active warrior of his age, and yet died in captivity of indolence and gluttony.”

“ Plutarch’s life of Demetrius Poliorcetes, might indeed be called the adventures of a sanguineous man, but of one morally abandoned. Where men of this temperament are distinguished for blamelessness and purity, they comprise within themselves all that is lovely and amiable in human nature. They are the fondest husbands and the kindest fathers. They live in an atmosphere of happiness. The fables of Arcadia seem surpassed by realities. It is especially in early life that their virtues have the most pleasing fragrance; “severe in youthful beauty,” they are like the Israelites who would not eat of the Eastern king’s meat, and yet had countenances fairer than all. These are they of whom the poets praise the destiny which takes them early from the world. These are the favorites of heaven who, if they live to grow old, at their death “fill up one monument with goodness itself.”

Part II

The Bilious Temperament

Editor’s Note: While reading Homeopathic Materia Medica, in every other medicine, we find the mention of “temperaments”, although the temperaments are not much important in prescribing homeopathic medicine in a clinical setup, but we need to know what is exact prevalent meaning of “temperaments” at time of development of material medica in 19^th century. Following is an article from The Philadelphia Journal of Homeopathy, June 1855, Vol IV, No. III on Temperaments.

For convenience of readers article is divided in three parts,

Part I Sanguineous Temperament
Part II Bilious Temperament
Part III Melancholic Temperament

The

Philadelphia

Journal of Homoeopathy

Vol IV  - June, 1855 – No. III

Part II

“The Bilious Temperament”

“We turn to the consideration of the class of men to whom the destinies of the world are generally committed; who rule in the cabinet and on the exchange; who control public business and guide the deliberations of Senates, and who, whether in exalted or private stations, unite in the highest degree instant sagacity with persevering energy. They possess, like the sanguineous, quickness of perception and rapidity of thought; but they at the same time have the power of confining their attention to a single object. They have good practical judgment; they see things as they are, and are never deceived by contemplating measures in a false light; they have a clear eye to pierce the secrets of the human heart – to read the character and understand the motives of others. They are patient and inflexible in their purposes; and however remote may be the aim of their desires; they labor with unwearied toil even for a distant and apparently uncertain success. They are prone to anger, and yet can moderate or conceal their indignation. Their strongest passion is ambition; all other emotions yield to it; even love vainly struggles against it; and if they sometimes give way to beauty, they in their pleasures resemble the Scythians of old, who at their feasts used to strike the cords of their bows to remind themselves of danger. The men of whom we are speaking are urged by constant restlessness to constant action. A habitual sentiment of disquietude allows them no peace but in the tumult of business; the hours of crowded life are the only ones they value; the narrow road of emulation the only one in which they travel.

“The moral characteristics are observed to be connected with a form more remarkable for firmness than for grace. The complexion is generally not light; and not unfrequently of a sallow hue; the hair is dark; the skin dry; the flesh not abundant, but firm; the muscular force great in proportion to the volume of the muscles; the eye vivid and sparkling. The appetite is voracious, rather than delicate; the digestion rapid. Of the internal organs the liver is proportionably the largest and most active, and its copious secretions give a name to the class.”

“Such is the nature of those who belong to bilious temperament. They are to be employed wherever hardiness of resolution, prompt decision and permanence of enterprises are required. They unite in themselves in an eminent degree the manly virtues which lead to results in action. At their birth all the gods came to offer gifts; the graces alone remained away. They stand high in the calendar of Courts, and know how to court the favor of citizens of republics; but Cupid, indignant at their independence of him, degrades them in his calendar. They do not reign in the world of fashion, and the novel-writer could make an Oxenstiern or a Sully an imposing picture, but not the hero of a sentimental tale.”

“Will you learn from living examples what the nature of the bilious temperament is? Walk to the Exchange and ask who best understands the daring business of insurance? Discover by whom the banks are managed which give the surest and largest dividends! Go to our new settlements in the West and mark the men who are early and late riding through the majestic forests of virgin nature, where the progress is impeded, it is true, by no underwood, but where every hardship must be endured, streams forded, nights be spent under the open sky, hunger be defied, and a thousand dangers be braved by the keen speculator, who will take nothing on trust. Or watch the arena of public strife, and see who it is that most skillfully and yet most secretly touches the springs of national action, and controls the distribution of praise and emoluments in the very court of honor!”

“Or if you will not trust yourself with scrutinizing the motives of the living, consult the Muse of History, and with her trumpet-tongue she will tell you of those who are the elect of her heart, those who fill the universe with their fame, and have swayed their times by their prowess and their mental power; from the mighty conquerors of earliest antiquity, whose names float to us through the wrecks of unknown Empires, to the last wonderful man, who in our own times dealt with States as with playthings, and by the force of his despotic will shook the civilized world to its center.”

“Ancient history furnishes perhaps no more exact illustration of this temperament, than in the character of Themistocles. In his boyhood he shunned boyish sports, but would compose declamations and harangues. He says of himself that he had learned neither to tune the harp nor handle the lyre, but that he knew how to make a small and inglorious city both powerful and illustrious. He could not sleep for the trophies of Miltiades. When his superior in the command raised a staff to repel disagreeable advice by a blow, he coolly said, “Strike – but hear me,” rendering patient sublime by his patriotism. Having been a poor and disinherited child, he made his way to the highest honors in Athens, and for a season controlled the civilized world. “He was the first men,” says Thucydides, “for practical judgment.” Of Romans we might name as of the bilious temperament the elder Brutus, the glorious hypocrite, who hid the power of his genius till he could exert it for liberty. The greatest foreigner in the days of the Republic on the Roman soil was Hannibal, and he, not less than Julius Caesar, was of the bilious class.”

“But were we to select an example among those who at any time have been masters of the Seven Hills, we should name the wonderful Montalto, Pope Sextus V. In early life he exerted astonishing industry and talent, made himself the favorite preacher in the cities of Italy, and afterward won the hearts of Spaniards till he was at last made Cardinal. Then of a sudden his character seemed changed; and for almost twenty years he played the part of a deceiver with unequalled skill. He lived in a retired house, kept few servants, was liberal in his expenses for charities, but parsimonious toward himself; contradicted no one; submitted even to insults with perfect good humor; and in short, acquired the name of being the most meek, the most humble, and the most easily guided of the Cardinals. Of the forty-two Cardinals who entered the conclave, Montalto seemed nearest to another world. A crutch supported the declining strength of his old age; and a distressing cough indicated that life was fast consuming away. Six parties divided the assembly; and fourteen Cardinals deemed themselves worthy of the tiara. On balloting, Albano, the most powerfully supported, had but thirteen votes. Let us take this good-natured, dying old man, thought they; he will be easily managed; and four parties of the six united for Montalto. The ballot was ended: “Gods! I am Pope of Rome,” exclaimed the hale old man. Casting from him the cloaks in which he was muffled, he threw his crutch across the room, and bending back, spit to the ceiling of the high chamber of the Vatican, in which he was to show the vigor of his lungs. Never did a wiser man hold the keys of St. Peter. He punished vice even in the high places with inexorable severity; he established the library of the Vatican; placed the magnificent obelisk in front of St. Peter’s; caused the matchless cupola to be built; conducted water to the Quirinal Hill; erected a vast hospital for the poor; made the splendid street, called from his name Felice; reformed the finances of the States of the Church; and while he exercised great influence on the affairs of Christendom, he himself kept at peace. Since his time the Catholic Church has not had at its head a man of superior genius.”     

Part III The Melancholic Temperament

The Melancholic Temperament

 Editor’s Note: While reading Homeopathic Materia Medica, in every other medicine, we find the mention of “temperaments”, although the temperaments are not much important in prescribing homeopathic medicine in a clinical setup, but we need to know what is exact prevalent meaning of “temperaments” at time of development of material medica in 19^th century. Following is an article from The Philadelphia Journal of Homeopathy, June 1855, Vol IV, No. III on Temperaments.

For convenience of readers article is divided in three parts,

Part I Sanguineous Temperament
Part II Bilious Temperament
Part III Melancholic Temperament

The

Philadelphia

Journal of Homoeopathy

Vol IV  - June, 1855 – No. III

 

Part III

“The Melancholic Temperament”

“Observe the pensive man, who stand musing apart from the rest, and whom we should think bilious, but for the compression of his chest. His countenance is pallid or sallow, and his features are expressive of melancholy. He is lean, yet of great muscular vigor; his eyes are clear and brilliant, yet of a somber expression. His hair is dark, and does not readily curl. He is rather tall. And not ill-formed, yet slender; his breast is narrow, and confines the play of his lungs; he stoops as he sits or walks. His internal organization is marked by energy and life, but the action of the system meets with obstructions. His nerves are extremely sensitive, yet generous warmth is wanting to mollify and expand their extremities. His blood circulates with languor, and if he is long exposed to the cold in a state of inactivity, it is soon chilled. His stomach is apt to become indolent; he is liable to the anguish of difficult digestion. Such are the physical peculiarities of the melancholy temperament.”

“The man of this class unites a habitual distrust of himself and weal indecision in common affairs, with obstinate persistence in matters in which he is decided, and undaunted perseverance in pursuing one object. When he has no strong motive to fix him, his wavering exposes him to the reproach of pusillanimity, and he might find it difficult to repeal the charge, were it not that it is impossible to make him swerve from a purpose once adopted beauty has an inconceivable and mysterious power over him. He deserts the society of the wise and learned, the disputes of politicians and the discussions of men of business, for the unquiet enjoyment he finds in its vicinity. Yet while he yields to the temporary influence and dominion of any one who is lovely, he is slow to form an attachment, and if his affections are once engaged, his love bears the seal of eternity. In his intercourse with men he avoids all society which does not suit his habits of mind; but he is sincere in his friendships, and, we must add slow to forgive an injury. The recollection of a wrong remains imprinted almost indelibly on his memory. In society his manners are embarrassed, and often awkward; yet he does not fail to excite interest and sentiment akin to compassion. When he converses, his imagination exerts itself powerfully, and he often uses original and singularly expressive forms of language. Indeed, the imagination is at all times the strongest faculty of his mind; it creates a world for him, all unlike the real one. He does not see things as they are but beholds in them only the reflections of his own representations. His delight is in profound sentiment, and he excels in the delineation of strong passions and intense suffering. Powerful motives are required to bring him to action. If suddenly called upon when he is not moved, he falters, can decide on nothing, and appears to exhibit a complete inefficiency and unsuitableness for business. But if strong excitement accompanies the unexpected summons, he comes with energy and decision to the guidance of affairs, pours forth his ideas in a torrent of extraordinary and irresistible eloquence, and surpasses all expectations. It is a weakness of the melancholic man that he is always contemplating himself; the operations of his own mind, the real, or more probably the imaginary woes of his own experience. The sanguineous man is happy in his fickleness; the bilious enjoys himself in the stir of action; the phlegmatic is content if he is but left alone to repose undisturbed; the melancholic is quite satisfied, only when discoursing or musing in himself and his sorrows. So far he is liable to the charge of vanity but no further. He does not form too high an estimate of himself; self-conceit is the peculiar foible of the sanguineous. Love is the ruling passion of the sanguineous; ambition of the bilious; the melancholy man is haunted by a longing for glory. This gives an impulse to his patriotism; this kindles his imagination and leads him to beautiful designs; this prompts him to enter on the career of letters; this not unfrequently drives him with irresistible power to nightly vigils and immoderate toil, in hope to enshrine his name among the immortal. He is

timid, and his fastidious taste is never satisfied with what he performs, though of all men he can least brook censure; so that he exhibits the apparent contradiction of relying most obstinately on a judgment which he himself distrusts. This diffidence of himself may at first seem to injure the perfection and utility oh his labors. But his doubting makes him anxious to finish his productions in the most careful manner. To what else do we owe the perfect grace and harmony of Virgil – the compact expression and polished elegance of Gray?”

“If the melancholic man errs in this practical estimate of men, he at least, studies the principles according to which they act, and carefully analyzes their motives and passions. He understands the internal operations of their minds, even while he is unsuccessful in his direct attempts at influencing them. He is himself capable of a high and continued enthusiasm. Gifted with affections which may be refined and elevated, he can feel admiration for all that is beautiful and unselfish among men; can pay homage to the fine arts; or be admitted to enjoy the serious pleasures afforded by philosophy and poetry. He has no talent for light humor and pleasantry, but he excels in bitter retorts and severity of satire. He is subject to ecstasies of pleasure no less than of pain; and the former become him less than the latter. He possesses the virtue of patience in the most eminent degree. Nothing can fatigue or subdue him. Disappointments do not weary him, nor can he be baffled by delay.”

“The history of literature and the arts is full of examples of this temperament; on the world also, it has frequently exercised a wide and lasting influence. The most eloquent of modern philosophers, the gifted child of Geneva, the outcast of fortune, offers an illustration. How brilliant is his imagination! What timidity marks his character in smaller affairs! What dauntless courage animated him when he published truths in defiance of the Roman Church and the vengeance of despots! What a power also was exercised over him by beauty! How willingly he offers his Eloise in manuscript, on gilt-edged paper, neatly sewed with ribands, to his accomplished patroness! What ignorance of the world do we find in him, and yet what discriminating delineations of the passions and hearts of men! So long as a love of truth, of liberty, of virtue, shall avail, with charity to mitigate the condemnation of vices, which a defect of education may palliate but nit excuse; so long as splendor of imagination, keen reasoning, eloquent reproofs of fashionable follies and crimes, in a word, the fine thoughts and style of genius, shall be admired, the name and the writings of Rousseau will be remembered, and the analysis of his mind explain the organization which we are describing.”

“In English poetry Cowley seems to have been of this temperament. Milton, originally bilious, acquired something of it from age and misfortunes. It was natural to the bard of Mantua; it threw the thick cloud of self-torturing gloom over the poet of chivalry and the cross, the sweetest minstrel of his country, or rather of all time, the inimitable Tasso.”

“These are instances of men devoted to letters. History describes Demosthenes as of a slender form and short breath; therefore, we infer, of a narrow chest. His physiognomy had a gloomy expression, as we know, not only from the busts of him, but from the insolent jests of Aeschines. He is represented as of unyielding fixedness of purpose; a man whom neither the factions of the people, nor the clamors of the aristocratic party, not the gold of Macedonia, could move from the career of disinterested patriotism. Arriving at early manhood, he found an object worthy of the employment of his life, and remained true to it in danger, in power, in success, in defeat – at home, on embassies, in exile, and in death. E was an ardent lover of liberty, smitten also with a true passion for glory. Moreover, in spite of his perseverance, he was naturally timid. When he was presented at the Court of Philip, he is said to have been embarrassed, and to have shown no proof of his greatness. When called from the forum of the camp, he was not at once capable of directing the battle. He was accustomed never to address the Athenians except after careful preparation; yet on great occasions, he was sometimes raised beyond himself, and if excited and compelled to speak, he did it as it were by inspiration and with irresistible force. All these things are traits of the melancholic temperament.”