To The Philadelphia Doctors

"And the Angel Michael disputed with the Devil about the body of Moses."--Ancient History.

"To bleed or not to bleed--that is the question! Whether 'tis better in our beds to suffer The slights and snufflings of outrageous doctors, Or by the Lancet--quit them."

In ancient days divines, in dismal humour, With disputation kept the presses going; Wrangled about some wonderous mighty things The difference "'twixt a shadow and a shade," And scribbled much of "way of man with maid." At length, as fades the crown Their bludgeons they lay down; And you, wise doctors, take the wrangle up, Each cursing all who will not drink his cup.

Ah, Philadelphians! still to knaves a prey, Take your old philosophic way; When from the native spring you seiz'd your draught, Health bloom'd on every face, and all was gay-- Dejection was remote--and Nature laugh'd. A question now, of mighty weight is put, Whether, to bleed a man is best, or not, When scarce three drops (or not one drop) remains In the poor devil's veins!--

Well! you decide, who are in Galen read-- Take Boorhaave's, if you please--whatever system-- (Why are men such that doctors can enlist 'em?) Whether your methods be the right or wrong, And man's existence shorten or prolong, We feverish fellows, must be--put to bed.

The secret has leak'd out--be cautious doctors (The whole shall be disclos'd in room with lock'd doors) Old women, with their simple herbs and teas (And asking hardly two-pence for their fees) Disarm this dreadful epidemic fever; Make it as tame and innocent, (Whether home-bred or from West Indies sent) As Continental soldier, turn'd to Weaver.