It should be remarked that if the physicians had the good sense not to quarrel with the formidable power of women, but to come to terms, that result was probably due to the fact that they were themselves in the throes of a crisis which could not but inspire them with great prudence. People were up in arms against them; they were no longer content with rehashing stale jokes;[49] the sick expected to be cured. Further, complete discord reigned in the scientific world; men vied with each other in flinging about opprobrious epithets like “fool,” “mountebank,” and “specialist.” Paris remained faithful to the traditional and philosophic spirit, while Paracelsus burnt the works of Galen and Avicenna. Many men dismissed medicine as a purely empirical science with no theory behind it, and capable of being mastered in six months. The activity in scientific circles only added to the intellectual confusion. Opinion went so far as to hold doctors responsible for their actions, and to maintain that their repute should be strictly proportionate to their merits.[50] There were not wanting sceptics, even among women. Margaret of France, in one of her comedies, brings on the scene a sick man who, after being tossed about like a shuttlecock between his doctor and his wife, is ultimately cured through the prayers of the cook. Nevertheless, a real bond of friendship and brotherhood was in most cases established between the lady and this stranger who called himself a doctor. It was a sort of domestic and personal intimacy. Women, as we all know, are greatly in need of a directing authority; they love also to be made much of, as certain doctors understood wonderfully well; like that doctor who never met a woman without attempting to worm out of her some confidences as to her health, and when someone expressed his astonishment, “Aha!” said he, waggling his head, “even well-corked bottles sometimes have cracks.” In reality, he fancied that his solicitude would be highly appreciated. The doctor who won a lady’s esteem became her friend. He would write to her asking how she was, and addressing her as “my sweet princess”; if he learnt of her illness, he flew to her; if she died, he mourned her. His sentiments sometimes outran his interests; a noble lady died, and among her effects were found formidable doctor’s bills she had forgotten to settle. If in special cases there were limits to the confidence patients placed in their doctor’s skill, there remained still a vast enough field for private friendship, which lent itself only too well to scandal.