“Envy doth merit, as its shade pursue.”
“Envy doth merit, as its shade pursue.”
“Envy doth merit, as its shade pursue.”
“Envy doth merit, as its shade pursue.”
truth does indeed ultimately prevail, but too frequently the heart of the discoverer is broken before the obtuseness of the mediocrities in power, by whom it is obstructed, can be overcome.
Although a little diverging from the strict chronological order, I must here introduce to you our oldacquaintance, Paracelsus; this eccentric genius had too little virtue to be admired, and too much talent to be despised. He was born at Zurich, in Switzerland, in 1493, and was consequently contemporary with many more learned, but less celebrated men; an unblushing and presumptuous egotist, he presents himself, in a moral point of view, as the exact antithesis of the amiable and virtuous Hippocrates. That he made some very useful discoveries must be granted to him; he introduced the use of opium into Germany, and was the first practitioner who employed preparations of mercury, antimony, sulphur, iron, and other remedies.
Van Helmont is the most indulgent of his biographers, and Lord Bacon the most severe; but perhaps the description given by Zimmerman comes nearest the truth—“Paracelsus burnt publicly atBàlethe works of Galen, Avicenna, and other eminent predecessors, because, he said, ‘they knew nothing of the cabballa and magic,’ which lay at the root of all medical and natural laws. He undertook to cure all diseases by the use of certain words and charms. He enjoined secresy on his disciples, and certainlywas the firstgreat quackfrom whom the numerous band of Charlatans have proceeded.”
He has left his mantle behind him, and his descendants, with none of his brains, have largely inherited his presumption. On the occasion of his inauguration in the Chair of Medicine, he thus expresseshimself:—
“Know,” says he, “that mycaphas more learning than all your professors, and my beard more experience than all your academies! I speak to you Greeks, Latins, Frenchmen, Italians, &c. &c.Youwill followme,Ishall not followyou. You, I say, doctors of Paris, Montpellier, Dalmatia, of Athens; you Jews, Arabs, Spaniards, English, I tell you all that nature obeys me; and if God does not deign to assist, I have yet the devil to resort to. I am king of all science, and command all the hosts of hell.”
We have in this impostor the very embodiment of the true quacks of to-day; their language is indeed a little subdued, but their pretensions are as large; and, let me add, that whereas Paracelsus, in his days, had the countenance and support of many persons of rank, so in ours, there does not exist an ignorant pretender without the patronage of the great, and this patronage,too often, in the exact ratio of his presumption and falsehood.
It must not be overlooked that this arch imposter died miserably, in poverty, induced by dissipation, and the possessor of the “elixir of immortality” breathed out his drunken soul at the age of fifty.
We have a lively picture of the state of things begotten of this man in the pages of Burton, an example in himself of the power of credulity, and a proof that great scholastic learning was by no means at variance with the wild vagaries of the times. He appears not unconscious of his peculiarities, and offers the following apology for his frequent reference to callings other than hisown:—
“If any physician shall infer ‘ne sutor ultra crepidam,’ and be grieved that I have intruded into his profession, I tell him, in brief, he does the same byus:—I know many of his sect who have taken Orders in hope of a Benefice—’tis a common transaction; and why may not a melancholy divine, who can get nothing but bySimony, professPhysic? Marsilius Ficinus was ‘semel et simul,’ a priest and physician, at once ‘sacerdos et medicus;’ and also divers Jesuits areat this time ‘permissu superiorem,’ chirurgeons, panders, bawds and midwives. Many poor vicars, for want of other means, are driven to turn mountebanks, quacksalvers and empirics; and in every village have we not wizards, alchymists, barbers, goodwives, Paracelsians (as they call themselves), possessing great skill, and in such numbers that I marvel how they shall all find employment?”
Burton lived about 1576, and was consequently of the same age as our own greatHarveyHarvey, of whom we shall speak presently.
Let me offer you one specimen on the subject of demoniacal possession, first introducing you to a new character, Cornelius Gemma, who was born at Louvain in 1535, and was one of the greatest scholars of his age, a professor of medicine in his native town (the chair having been conferred upon him by the great Duke of Alva, who governed the low countries), and whose writings embrace the subjects of medicine, mathematics, magic, and spiritual possession. Like Cardan, he was thought a little extreme in some views, but this one example suffices to demonstrate the evil influences of Paracelsus. Gemma, in hissecond book on natural miracles,says:—“A young maid, called Katherine Gualter, a cooper’s daughter, in the year 1571, had such strange passions that three men could not hold her. She purged a live eel—I myself saw and touched—a foot and a half long; she vomited twenty-four pounds of fulsome stuff of all colours twice a day for fourteen days, and after that greatballs of hair,pieces of wood,pigeons’ dung,coals, and after themtwo poundsof pure blood, and then again coals and stones (of which some had inscriptions) bigger than a walnut. All this I saw with horror. Physic could do no good, so she was handed over to the clergy.”
Marcellus Donatus relates a story of a country fellow who had four knives in his belly, every one a span long, and indented like a saw; also a wreath of hair, and much other baggage. How they “came into his guts” he knew not.
This personal testimony of Gemma is a melancholy proof that the light of christianity, during fifteen centuries, had done but little towards the emancipation of the human mind from the trammels of superstition, for, we find Josephus, who livedA.D.30,also favoringus with hispersonaltestimony to facts quite as marvellous, and no doubt as veracious, as those recorded by our Dutch philosopher. Yet although common sense rejects such “materials of history” where shall we look for better evidence of authenticity than is thus furnished by two men of unimpeachable integrity. The pride of enlightenment is indeed checked by the reflection thatA.D.1867we hear of believers in “Spiritual Manifestation” not only among the vulgar but in classes of society where the yearning after the mysterious sets both reason and philosophy at defiance.
The universality of belief in the existence of demons, and their occasional possession of the bodies of men, pervades the whole course of sacred and profane history, and Josephus, in enumerating the great qualities of King Solomon, bears testimony to the power of the Jewish Monarch as an “Exorcist:”—After informing us that Solomon exceeded all men in knowledge of natural things, that he was familiar with every sort of tree, from the cedar to the hyssop on the wall; that he knew the habits of every living creature, whether upon the earth, or in the seas, or in the air, and described their several attributes like a philosopher, anddemonstrated his exquisite knowledge of them; he goes on tosay:—“God also gave him understanding to attain to skill against demons for the benefit of mankind; for having composed incantations, whereby diseases are removed, he also left behind him certain kinds of exorcisms whereby demons may be expelled so as never to return, and this method of cure is effectual or prevails much among us to this day: forI sawone Eleazar, my countryman, in the presence of Vespasian and his sons, and many tribunes and other soldiers, deliver men who were seized by these demons. The cure was in thismanner:—Applying to the nostrils of the demoniacs a ring, having under the seal one of those roots of which Solomon taught the virtues, he drew out the demon from the nostrils of the man who smelled toit:—The man presently falling down, the Exorcist mentioned the name ofSolomon, and reciting the charms composed byhim, adjured the demon never toreturn:—Moreover Eleazar, to satisfy all the company of his power, placed a small vessel full of water, in which feet are washed, and commanded the demon as he went out of the man to overthrow it, that all present might be sensible that he had left the man: this being done the wisdom of Solomon was manifest.”
In the seventh book of his “Wars of the Jews,” he gives us the following account of one of the roots employed byExorcists:—“On the north side of the City of Machœrus there is a valley, in which is a place called Baaras, in which is found a plant bearing the same name: it is of a flaming colour and towards evening shines very bright: it is not easy to be gathered for it withdraws itself and does not stay unless one pours upon it the urine of a woman, ormenstruousmenstruousblood, and even then it is certain death to him who takes it unless he carries the root hanging down upon the hand—There is another way of getting it withoutdanger:—They dig all round it, so that a very little bit of the root is left in the ground, then they tie a dog to it, and the dog attempting to follow him who tied it, the root is easily pulled up, but the dog dies presently, as it were, instead of the man who would get the plant, afterwards there is no danger to those who touch it. With all these dangers the root is desirable, for demons, as they are called, who are the spirits of wicked men entering into the living, and killing those who have no help, this root presently expels; if it be only brought near to them who are diseased.”
We have already shewn how it took the devils by the nose.
Before we proceed, it may not be out of place to notice the general belief in astrology, and especially lunar influences, which prevailed at this period. Herbs and roots had their several patrons, and it was only when gathered and preserved under certain prescribed circumstances that their specific virtues were assured.
Similar superstitions are not yet extinct; even in this year of grace, 1867, we are not quite emancipated from the ignorance of the middle ages, and it is not a very unusual thing to see an advertisement in theTimesannouncing a “child’s caul” for sale. These and such like absurdities,
“Though it make the unskilful laugh,Cannot but make the judicious grieve.”
“Though it make the unskilful laugh,Cannot but make the judicious grieve.”
“Though it make the unskilful laugh,Cannot but make the judicious grieve.”
“Though it make the unskilful laugh,
Cannot but make the judicious grieve.”
Nor is this credulity confined to the illiterate classes. The dupes of St. John Long, as many of us may remember, included “potent, grave, and reverend signiors,” and on his memorable trial, a certain noble lord[10]gave evidence that Mr. Long had extracted apiece of lead from his head. Some scoffers think it a pity that the quack, having succeeded to some extent, left so much behind.
In speaking of Harvey, it is difficult to strike out any new path in a tale that has been told so often. Yet, we may extract something out of the consideration of the times in which he lived, and the men by whom he was surrounded. He was born at Folkestone, in 1578, and commenced his travels at 19 years of age. What his previous education had been does not appear, but we find him at the age of 24 elected Doctor of Medicine at Padua—then the most famous University in the world. On his return to England he received the honour of the degree of Doctor of Medicine at Cambridge. James the First, and his son, Charles the First, favoured him with their countenance, and in 1628 he was induced to publish an account of his great discovery. As a matter of course he was at once denounced as a visionary; personal abuse was unsparingly poured upon him; but as the grand fact enunciated was not to be shaken, his enemies turned round and discovered that, after all, it was not new, and had been the doctrine of many eminent physiciansfrom the earliest days. The old, old story: the same sickening detraction—the same miserable envy rife in every age and clime. Harvey died in 1658.
Shakespeare was 14 years old when Harvey was born, and the garrulous but erudite Burton was about the same age, yet strange to say, the great poet seems to have been unknown to the men of his own generation: scholars knew nothing of poor players, and he who was born to delight and instruct the future of mankind shone with but small lustre then.
The history of medicine in England now begins, although for some time subsequently medical instruction was sought for in the schools of Italy, France and Holland. The Reformation had swept away the monastic institutions; but during the depressing middle ages, all the learning that barbarism had spared took refuge in the cloister. The monks practised physic very extensively, and considering the ignorance and superstition of the period, it was natural that the vulgar should prefer the medical assistance of those who arrogated to themselves the immediate assistance of Heaven in the preparation of their remedies. The women were especially fond of consulting the monks,if there be any truth in the old epigram:—
“To Esculapian monks the good wives roamWhat marvel, they have husbands sick at home.”
“To Esculapian monks the good wives roamWhat marvel, they have husbands sick at home.”
“To Esculapian monks the good wives roamWhat marvel, they have husbands sick at home.”
“To Esculapian monks the good wives roam
What marvel, they have husbands sick at home.”
The alchymists again, like their lineal descendants in our days, professed to have discovered the philosophers stone, anduniversal specifics, and they were, as they are now, believed in proportion to their presumption. The practice of medicine being chiefly engrossed by empirics and monks, the latter very readily obtained licenses from the Bishops of the various dioceses who had authority to examine candidates, without having themselves any knowledge of the subjects in question, beyond that acquired in their general education.
By the 5th Henry VIII., chap. vi., we find there were but twelve regular Surgeons practising in all London, and about the same number of Physicians.
The college of Physicians in London owes its foundation to Dr. Thomas Linacre, of All Soul’s, Oxford, a man of profound learning, who had won honours at Rome, Bologna, and Florence.
Linacre, through his interest with Wolsey, a wise and liberal patron of learning, obtained, in 1518, letters patent from Henry the Eighth, constituting acorporate body of regular Physicians in London. He was elected the first president, and meetings were held at his house in Knight Ryder Street until his death. With a munificence not without many worthy imitators in our profession, as we shall presently point out, he bequeathed this house to the College.
His successor in the presidential chair was one of those bright lights who have contributed largely to the fame of medicine, in what I have already called its social and scientific aspect, and therefore deserves a passing notice. Dr. John Caius Kaye, of Gonville Hall, Cambridge, was Court Physician to Edward the Sixth, and as he retained the favour of Mary, after the demise of the pious young King, he procured from her a license to advance Gonville Hall into aCollegeunder the name of Gonville and Caius College, on condition of enlarging the institution at his own expense. In order to devote himself to this object, he resigned the presidency of the College of Physicians, and completed his buildings at Cambridge. The mansion of learning thus raised by his liberality, became the retreat of his old age, and having given up the dignified position ofMaster, with a disinterestedness equalled only by hisgenerosity, he continued to reside there as a gentleman commoner until his death in 1573.
Harvey was elected president of the College of Physicians in 1654, but excused himself on account of his age and infirmities. Such, however, was his attachment to that body (best evinced bydonationes inter vivos), that in 1656, he made over his personal estate in perpetuity for its use, having previously (on the occasion of the College being removed from Knight Ryder Street to Amen Corner) built them a library and public hall,[11]which he granted for ever to the corporation, together with his own valuable collection of books and instruments. Harvey’s grand result was the work of a quarter of a century of unremitting toil. An admirerwrote:—
“There didst thou trace the blood, and first beholdWhat dreams mistaken sages coined of old.For till thy Pegasus the fountain brake,The crimson blood was but a crimson lake,Which first from thee did tyde and motion gaine,And veins became its channel, not its chaine.WithDrakeandCa’ndishhence thy bays are curl’d,Fam’d circulator of the lesser world.”
“There didst thou trace the blood, and first beholdWhat dreams mistaken sages coined of old.For till thy Pegasus the fountain brake,The crimson blood was but a crimson lake,Which first from thee did tyde and motion gaine,And veins became its channel, not its chaine.WithDrakeandCa’ndishhence thy bays are curl’d,Fam’d circulator of the lesser world.”
“There didst thou trace the blood, and first beholdWhat dreams mistaken sages coined of old.For till thy Pegasus the fountain brake,The crimson blood was but a crimson lake,Which first from thee did tyde and motion gaine,And veins became its channel, not its chaine.WithDrakeandCa’ndishhence thy bays are curl’d,Fam’d circulator of the lesser world.”
“There didst thou trace the blood, and first behold
What dreams mistaken sages coined of old.
For till thy Pegasus the fountain brake,
The crimson blood was but a crimson lake,
Which first from thee did tyde and motion gaine,
And veins became its channel, not its chaine.
WithDrakeandCa’ndishhence thy bays are curl’d,
Fam’d circulator of the lesser world.”
He died in 1658.
I may here mention, that, after the fire of London, the College of Physicians was rebuilt on a site in Warwick Lane, which, until the erection there of the palatial residence of Guy of Warwick, the King maker, was called Eldenesse Lane.
Sir Christopher Wren was the architect of the new College, and its burnished dome gave Garth the opportunity of displaying his powers of satirethus:—
“Witness a dome, majestic to the sight,And sumptuous arches bear its oval height;A golden globe, placed high, with artful skill,Seems to the distant sight—a gilded pill.”
“Witness a dome, majestic to the sight,And sumptuous arches bear its oval height;A golden globe, placed high, with artful skill,Seems to the distant sight—a gilded pill.”
“Witness a dome, majestic to the sight,And sumptuous arches bear its oval height;A golden globe, placed high, with artful skill,Seems to the distant sight—a gilded pill.”
“Witness a dome, majestic to the sight,
And sumptuous arches bear its oval height;
A golden globe, placed high, with artful skill,
Seems to the distant sight—a gilded pill.”
Amongst the remarkable men of Harvey’s time were Shakespeare, Bacon, Van Helmont, and Sydenham, all of whom had personal intercourse with him; of these we shall first notice Thomas Sydenham, who was born in 1624. Boerhaave called him the second Hippocrates on account of his close observation of the natural phenomena of disease, but he is too well known to us to require any detailed description either of his method, or of his general knowledge. The story of his reply to Dr. Blackmore, when asked by him what books he should read, that “Don Quixote was a very good book”has been erroneously supposed to express his contempt for learning, but the joke was a personal one. Blackmore was a poet, and Sydenham saw that the man who consulted him did not possess the stuff of which doctors are made, he therefore referred him to the most lively piece of writing then in existence, as furnishing fitter pabulum for a poet, than the dry discussions of medical subjects could afford. To describe the character of Sydenham, it would be necessary to call to our aid the highest forms of panegyric; a good and honourable man, living in harmony with his brethren, and as far as the troubled state of the country would allow, in peace with all men. He lived to see the revolution of 1688 accomplished, and his aspirations as a patriot being thus gratified, he died in the following year.
Contemporary with Sydenham, we find the celebrated Sir Wm. Petty, the founder of the Lansdowne family. He was the eldest son of Anthony Petty, who, Aubrey the Antiquary tells us, was a clothier in Romsey. In his early days he showed great liking for all mechanical operations, and at twelve years of age had acquired considerable skill incarpentrycarpentryand smiths’ work. Educated at the free school of his native place, at the ageof fifteen he began his remarkable career as a self-helping man; from his own account, we learn that he went over to Caen, in Normandy, with a little stock of merchandise, and had such good success that out of the profits he educated himself in the French tongue, and perfected his knowledge of classics and mathematics. In his twentieth year he had saved about three-score pounds, and acquired as much progress in mathematics as any of his age: to his love of learning was joined the desire to acquire wealth; he was at all timespractical, and seems to have held pecuniary advantage to be the most comprehensive form of the practical. He tells us that when the civil wars between the King and Parliament grew hot “I hadsixty poundsin money and went into the Netherlands and France for three years, and vigorously pursued my studies, especially that of medicine at Utrecht, Leyden, Amsterdam, and Paris. I returned to Romsey with aboutten pounds morethan I had carried out of England.” In Paris, Petty made the acquaintance of Hobbes, who retired early from the civil wars. Hobbes soon discovered the capacity of his young friend, and read with him the Anatomy of Vesalius. He entered at Brazennose College, Oxford,in April, 1648, and took his degree there as Doctor of Physic, in March, 1649. The date of his admission to the College of Physicians is 25 June, 1650. He had been previously deputy to Doctor Thomas Clayton, Professor of Anatomy at Oxford, who laboured under the singular disqualification of having an insurmountable aversion to the sight of a mangled corpse. On the resignation of Clayton in 1651, Petty became Anatomical Professor, and about the same time he succeeded Dr. Knight in the Professorship of Music in Gresham College. About the year 1645, the Royal Society was formed, and Petty was one of the earliest members of the Oxford branch.
In 1652 he was appointed Physician to the Army in Ireland, which post he retained for seven years, at a salary of twenty shillings a day, while his practice produced him £400 a year more. His first great step to wealth, however, arose from his dealings with the forfeited lands in Ireland, and in a few years he managed his financial affairs so skilfully that he acquired a rental of £18,000 a year; part of this he was dispossessed of at the Restoration, as being unfairly obtained. He, however, had still a large fortune at his command,and bought the Earl of Arundel’s house and gardens in Lothbury, and erected thereupon the buildings forming Tokenhouse Yard, which was partly destroyed by the great fire. Petty had the tact to make his peace with the new government, and became a favourite with Charles II., who knighted him, and bestowed on him the place of Surveyor General for Ireland; and it is said, by Aubrey, that he was created Earl of Kelmore, though he never assumed the title. When the College of Physicians obtained its new Charter his name was published in the list of Fellows, although he had then resigned practice. The universality of his genius is clearly shewn by the list of his published works. He was a man of a genial character and handsomeperson:—“If he has a mind to it,” says Aubrey, “he will preach extempore, either as a Presbyterian, Independent, or as a Capucin friar, or Jesuit.” As a proof of his humour, when he was challenged to fight by Sir H. Sankey, he told his opponent, that as his short sight would not allow of the usual mode of warfare, he would meet him, if he was so minded, in a dark cellar, each to have a carpenter’s axe for his weapon: this the knight declined. He died in 1687of a gangrene of the foot, and was buried at Romsey, by the side of his father and mother: there lie his remains, covered with a flat stone, on which an illiterate workman has cut thesewords:—“Here layes Sir William Pety.”
The part played by the Good-Wives and Ladies Bountiful in this age deserves a passing notice, and we will make one or two quotations from books especially devoted to their use. Thus: “To make Oil ofSwallows:—Take lavender cotton, spikenut grass, ribwort, and twenty other simples, of each a handful, sage of virtue, camomiles and red roses, of each two handsful,twenty liveswallows; beat all together in a mortar, add a quart of neatsfoot oyl or May-butter, and mix. This oyl is exceeding sovereign for any broken bones, bones out of joint, or any grief of the sinews.”
“The ‘Usnea Humana’[12]described as a moss twolines long, grown on the skulls of malefactors who have been a long time exposed to the air. This little plant is found chiefly in England and Ireland, where the bodies of men are left hanging in chains for many years after their execution. It is of a volatile astringent nature, good for bleeding of the nose, and of use internally for epilepsy.” The writer adds, “I have seen in the apothecaries’ shops in London these skulls exposed with the Usnea upon them.” Then again we have a whole tribe of “holy remedies” and cabalistic charms, &c.
Hiera Picra and Solomon’s seal are used to this day. The charm for burns is asfollows:—“In the name of, &c. There came two angels from the East, one brought fire, the other water; I command them both: out fire!! in water!! and so I sayAmen.” This is mumbled by the charmer, and the sufferer is relievedwithout daring to doubt, for if hedoubtsthe charm is destroyed. Warts and wens are disposed of by a similar process.
So much for the march of intellect; in its progress very much like the military goose step.
A belief in the curative power of the Royal touch over scrofulous affections continued to be universally held so late as the time of William III. Shakespeare gives us an account of it in the tragedy of Macbeth, which I have thought worth transcribing. In the 4th Act, Scene 3rd, a room in the King, of England’spalace:—
Macaulay gives us the following graphic account of the practice of touching for the scrofula, as performed by thatmost religiousandgraciousKing Charles the Second.
“This ceremony had come down almost unaltered from the darkest of the dark ages to the time of Newton and Locke. The Stuarts frequently dispensed the healing influences in the Banqueting House. The days on which this miracle was to be wrought were fixed at sittings of the Privy Council, and were solemnly notified by the clergy in all the parish churches of the realm. When the appointed time came, several divines in full canonicals stood round the canopy of state. The surgeon of the royal household introduced the sick. A passage from the sixteenth chapter of the Gospel of St. Mark was read. When the words ‘They shall lay their hands on the sick, and they shall recover’ hadbeen pronounced, there was a pause, and one of the sick was brought up to the King. His Majesty stroked the ulcers and swellings, and hung round the patient’s neck a white ribbon, to which was fastened a gold coin. The other sufferers were then led up in succession; and, as each was touched, the chaplain repeated the incantation, ‘They shall lay their hands on the sick, and they shall recover.’ Then came the epistle, prayers, antiphones and a benediction.... Theologians of eminent learning, ability, and virtue gave the sanction of their authority to this mummery; and, what is stranger still, medical men of high note believed, or affected to believe, in the balsamic virtues of the royal hand. We must suppose that every surgeon who attended Charles the Second was a man of high repute for skill; and more than one of the surgeons who attended Charles the Second, has left us a solemn profession of faith in the King’s miraculous power.... We cannot wonder that, when men of science gravely repeated such nonsense, the vulgar should believe it. Still less can we wonder that wretches tortured by a disease over which natural remedies had no power should eagerly drink in tales of preternatural cures: for nothing is socredulous as misery. The crowds which repaired to the palace on the days of healing were immense. Charles the Second, in the course of his reign, touched near a hundred thousand persons. The number seems to have increased or diminished as the King’s popularity rose or fell.
“In 1682, he performed the rite eight thousand five hundred times. In 1684, the throng was such that six or seven of the sick were trampled to death. James, in one of his progresses, touched eight hundred persons in the choir of the Cathedral of Chester. The expense of the ceremony was little less than ten thousand pounds a year, and would have been much greater but for the vigilance of the royal surgeons, whose business it was to examine the applicants, and to distinguish those who came for the cure from those who came for the gold.” (History of England, Vol. III., p. 478.)
William the Third gave great offence to the nonjurors by sneering at a practice sanctioned by the highest ecclesiastical authorities; yielding to importunity, he once consented to lay his hands on a patient, but his good sense compelled him toexclaim:—“God give you better health and more wisdom, my friend.”
Shortly after the death of Sydenham came Dr. Freind, who was born in 1675. Being a man of worth and learning, he soon acquired a leading position in his profession, and having devoted himself early in life to the study of politics, he was returned to Parliament as member for Launceston, where, having warmly espoused the cause of the amiable Atterbury, he fell under the censure of Walpole, who sent him to the Tower on a charge of treason. This misfortune gave rise to one of the finest instances of devotion, on the part of his friend Mead, that has ever been recorded for the honour of human nature. Walpole was taken seriously ill, and of course sent for Mead, who at that time was the most popular physician. The doctor is reported to have addressed the ministerthus:—“You are very ill, Sir Robert, and I can cure you; but one condition is indispensable. Dr. Freind has been in prison some months, and my esteem for him is so great that I will not prescribe a single thing for you until he is set at liberty.” Walpole hesitated, but Mead was resolute, and at length the tyrant gave way. Freind was released, and Mead when he paid his first visit of congratulation, took with him a considerablesum of money, the produce of fees he had received from Freind’s patients during his incarceration. Freind was a voluminous writer, and compiled a history of medicine in which he attacked some of the opinions of Leclerc, who had gone more extensively and accurately into the subject.
Next in order, we must say a few words of Dr. Mead. Richard Mead was born in 1673, at Stepney. Political troubles drove his father, who was rector of the parish, into Holland, where this future ornament of the medical profession was educated, at Utrecht, under Grœvius. He continued his studies at Leyden, and travelling into Italy, took his degree of doctor at Padua. On his arrival in England, whither his fame had preceded him, the University of Oxford confirmed his title, and the College of Physicians received him with applause, as did the Royal Society (then but recently established.) He soon became the leading practitioner of the day, and in course of time Physician to George the Second. For more than half a century he attended at St. Thomas’s Hospital, and is said to have suggested to Guy the foundation of the hospital known by that name. A more noble, disinterested, and generous man than Meadnever lived. His emoluments were very large, and his benevolence and hospitality kept pace with his income. It is stated that no poor applicant ever left his door unrelieved.
“Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,Heaven did a recompense as largely send.”
“Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,Heaven did a recompense as largely send.”
“Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,Heaven did a recompense as largely send.”
“Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,
Heaven did a recompense as largely send.”
After a life of 80 years, he died full of honours, leaving his many literary labors as monuments of his talents and industry.
The reign of Queen Anne has been called the Augustan age of literature in England, and was in no less degree looked upon as the great day of medical science. Amongst the literary men we have to name Swift, Addison, Warburton, Pope, Steele, Parnell, Rowe, Gay, and others; and amongst Physicians—Freind, Mead, Radcliffe, Cheselden, Arbuthnot, Garth, &c. &c.
Radcliffe next comes under notice; he was a man cast in a rougher mould than Mead. John Radcliffe was born at Wakefield, in Yorkshire, in 1650, and educated at Oxford, where he became a Fellow of Lincoln College; after a two years residence he resigned his Fellowship and devoted himself to physic, removed to London, and settled in Bow-street, Covent Garden.He was a man of ready wit, and great conversational powers, with much pleasantry and frankness. In 1686 he was appointed physician to Princess Anne of Denmark, and after the revolution was often consulted by William the Third; the latter on his return from Holland sent for Radcliffe, and shewing him his ankles swollen, and his body emaciated, the doctor brusquely said, “Truly I would not have your Majesty’s two legs for your three kingdoms.” This sally lost him the king’s favour, nevertheless he still prospered, and sat in Parliament for the borough of Buckingham.
In the last illness of Queen Anne, Radcliffe was sent for, but excused his attendance on account of indisposition; the Queen died the next day, and Radcliffe was greatly censured, which is said to have hastened his own death, which took place three months after.
There is a story told of his quarrel with Sir Godfrey Kneller, the celebrated painter. They were next door neighbours, and enjoyed a certain garden in common. Kneller complained that Radcliffe took no care that the door leading into this garden should be kept properly shut, and sent a snappish message to the doctor, that if he were not more mindful he would shut up the doorand keep the key. Radcliffe’s answer was, “Tell Sir Godfrey Kneller he may do what he likes with the door provided he does not paint it.” Kneller retorted to this sarcasm, “Tell the doctor I will take anything from him except his physic.”
I cannot find that Radcliffe ever published any work; but at his death he left the munificent sum of £40,000 to the University of Oxford for the formation of a public library of medical and philosophical science, and a further considerable sum to provide for an annual augmentation of books and instruments. Garth, in allusion to this bequest, remarked that for Radcliffe to found a library was as if an Eunuch should establish a Seraglio.
Samuel Garth was among the celebrities of this time: the correspondent of Bolingbroke, the friend of Swift and Addison, and the patron of Pope, he must have possessed great merit to have reached such a position. He was born of a good family in Yorkshire: the date of his birth I have been unable to discover, but he was admitted a Fellow of the College of Physicians in 1693. Johnson classes him with the English Poets, and in his description of him says, “He is always mentionedas a man of benevolence, and it is just to suppose that his desire to help the helpless disposed him with so much zeal to undertake the founding of adispensary:—Whether physicians have, as Temple says,morelearning than the other faculties I will not stay to inquire, but I believe every man has found in physicians great liberality and dignity of sentiment, very prompt effusion of benevolence, and willingness to exert a lucrative art, where there is no hope of lucre.”
Garth was an active and zealous Whig, and consequently familiarly known to all the great men of that party; his orthodoxy was questioned, but it was the fashion of the times to be a free thinker. Pope apostrophises him in his secondpastoral:—
“Accept, O! Garth, the muses early lays,That add this wreath of ivy to thy bays.”
“Accept, O! Garth, the muses early lays,That add this wreath of ivy to thy bays.”
“Accept, O! Garth, the muses early lays,That add this wreath of ivy to thy bays.”
“Accept, O! Garth, the muses early lays,
That add this wreath of ivy to thy bays.”
And again, in conjunction with Arbuthnot, in “the Farewell to London:”—
“Farewell Arbuthnot’s railleryOn every learned sot,And Garth the best good Christian heAlthough he knows it not.”
“Farewell Arbuthnot’s railleryOn every learned sot,And Garth the best good Christian heAlthough he knows it not.”
“Farewell Arbuthnot’s railleryOn every learned sot,And Garth the best good Christian heAlthough he knows it not.”
“Farewell Arbuthnot’s raillery
On every learned sot,
And Garth the best good Christian he
Although he knows it not.”
Pope’s favourite physician was Dr. John Arbuthnot, and never was grateful affection better bestowed. He was the son of an Episcopal clergyman in Scotland, born in 1675, and went through a course of academical studies at Aberdeen, where he also took the degree of Doctor of Physic. On his arrival in London he supported himself as a teacher of mathematics, in which he was a great proficient, and became known to the world of letters by his examination of Dr. Woodward’s “Account of the Deluge,” and by an able treatise on the “Advantages of Mathematical Learning.” The first book of the memoirs of “Martinus Scriblerus” has also been attributed to him. An accident introduced him to Prince George of Denmark, and led the way to his appointment as Physician to Queen Anne; he retained the favour of the Court until the death of the Queen, when, being more than suspected of Jacobite proclivities, he was compelled to leave his quarters in St. James’s Palace, and retired to a small house in Dover Street.
Pope dedicated to him the prologue to his satires, and thus gracefully mentionshim:—
“Friend to my life (which did not you prolong,The world had wanted many an idle song.”)
“Friend to my life (which did not you prolong,The world had wanted many an idle song.”)
“Friend to my life (which did not you prolong,The world had wanted many an idle song.”)
“Friend to my life (which did not you prolong,
The world had wanted many an idle song.”)
The concluding stanzas are so full of tenderness that I venture to givethem:—
“Oh! friend, may each domestic bliss be thine,Be no unpleasing melancholy mine,Me, let the tender office long engageTo rock the cradle of reposing age,With lenient arts extend a mother’s breath,Make langour smile and smooth the bed of death.Explore the thought, explain the asking eye,And keep a while one parent from the sky!On cares like these, if length of days attend,May Heaven, to bless those days, preserve my friend,Preserve him social, cheerful, and serene,And just as rich as when he served a Queen.”
“Oh! friend, may each domestic bliss be thine,Be no unpleasing melancholy mine,Me, let the tender office long engageTo rock the cradle of reposing age,With lenient arts extend a mother’s breath,Make langour smile and smooth the bed of death.Explore the thought, explain the asking eye,And keep a while one parent from the sky!On cares like these, if length of days attend,May Heaven, to bless those days, preserve my friend,Preserve him social, cheerful, and serene,And just as rich as when he served a Queen.”
“Oh! friend, may each domestic bliss be thine,Be no unpleasing melancholy mine,Me, let the tender office long engageTo rock the cradle of reposing age,With lenient arts extend a mother’s breath,Make langour smile and smooth the bed of death.Explore the thought, explain the asking eye,And keep a while one parent from the sky!On cares like these, if length of days attend,May Heaven, to bless those days, preserve my friend,Preserve him social, cheerful, and serene,And just as rich as when he served a Queen.”
“Oh! friend, may each domestic bliss be thine,
Be no unpleasing melancholy mine,
Me, let the tender office long engage
To rock the cradle of reposing age,
With lenient arts extend a mother’s breath,
Make langour smile and smooth the bed of death.
Explore the thought, explain the asking eye,
And keep a while one parent from the sky!
On cares like these, if length of days attend,
May Heaven, to bless those days, preserve my friend,
Preserve him social, cheerful, and serene,
And just as rich as when he served a Queen.”
About the time of his preferment he made the acquaintance of the great luminaries of art and learning, particularly Swift, (the mad parson as he was first designated) Pope, Gay, Parnell, Atterbury, Congreve, &c., and greatly assisted, with his ready and witty pen, the ambitious Bolingbroke.
What is greatly to his honour, in the midst of an age of scoffers, he retained a deep sense of the importance of personal religion, and seems to have lived in theaffectionate esteem and remembrance of his friends; Swift said of him, “Oh! if the world had a dozen Arbuthnots in it, I would burn my travels” (Gulliver’s); and on another occasion expresses himself thus, “Arbuthnot has more wit than all we have, and his humanity is equal to his wit.”
For some time before his death he suffered from asthma and dropsy, and bore his affliction with characteristic fortitude and resignation. He died in 1734, leaving a son, who was one of Pope’s executors, and two daughters.
Next to the illustrious Scotchman whom we have just dismissed, comes a very worthy native of the Emerald Isle—Hans Sloane, the son of Alexander Sloane, the head of a colony of Scotchmen, who, in the reign of James I. settled in the north of Ireland. Hans was born at Killileagh, in the year 1660. He very early showed a liking for Natural History, and on his arrival in London attended lectures on Anatomy, Botany, and their kindred sciences, and formed a close intimacy with Boyle and Ray. After four years study he visited Paris and Montpellier, in which places he took his degrees in Medicine. In 1684 he returnedto London and commenced practice, being a Fellow of the Royal Society and of the College of Physicians. On the appointment of the Duke of Albemarle to the government of Jamaica he accompanied that nobleman, and thus acquired a rich addition to his Museum of Natural History. George the First created him a Baronet, and on the death of Sir Isaac Newton, he became President of the Royal Society—estimable as a man, and eminent in science, he lived to a great age, and at his decease, bequeathed his museum to the nation, conditionally on the sum of £20,000 being paid to his executors for the benefit of his survivors: this sum bore no proportion to the value of his collection, and as it laid the foundation of the British Museum, it must ever be regarded as a patriotic and generous act.
A curious illustration of the observant mind of Sir H. Sloane is furnished by the fact of his having noticed that the natives of the West Indian Islands, who eat much of the green fat of the turtle, perspired a yellow oil; the explanation being that the true green fat of the turtle is a green-coloured cellular tissue enclosing a yellow oil, which passes through the system undigested. The anatomical data on which this statement isadvanced have been, at a comparatively recent period, verified by actual experiments performed by the late Dr. Pereira, assisted by our much esteemed former President, Dr. Daldy. It occurred to my mind that this fact in dietetics might present a lesson of caution to an audience peculiarly exposed, as citizens of London, to the temptation of eating a material, which, however appetising, is incapable of healthy assimilation.
In a sketch of such limited pretension we are compelled to pass over names well deserving a niche in the temple ofEsculapius:—every letter of the alphabet furnishes its contingent. To many of the men, into whose labours we have here entered, the civilised world is indebted for their contributions to general literature, as well as to the science of medicine; and in our endeavour to chronicle their importance, we can never cease to admire the fertility of their talents, and the extent of their industry in bringing to light so much useful knowledge out of the scanty materials by which their enquiries wereaided:—Akenside, Bacon, Boyle, Blackmore, Cheselden, Darwin, Petty, Ray, among others, may be noted as examples.
We have now reached the period at which legitimate medicine was established in this country; and as my discourse has already exceeded the assigned limits, it remains only to record our solemn tribute of the affectionate remembrance we all entertain towards those members of our society whose faces we shall so sadly miss in our next sessional meetings. Constituted as our cherished society is, as a friendly gathering of kindred spirits, actuated by mutual necessities, meeting as brothers, knowing no rivalry but the desire to impart, each to other, the results of our matured experience, it is with more than ordinary grief that we bow submissively when Providence sees fit to lessen our numbers by death.
But it is not we alone who have sustained a loss. The name of Barlow will live for ages to come as the type of the scientific physician of the nineteenth century. A man of cultivated intellect, of elegant mind and blameless life, of calm judgment and exalted feeling, I look upon his death as nothing less than a calamity to the whole medical profession.
Too soon, alas! after him, we were shocked by the almost sudden removal of the accomplished and genialJeaffreson, endeared to his brethren by those solid endowments which mark and govern the high minded practitioner and amiable gentleman—no less than to the public by those qualities that are inherent in a warm, kindly, and generous nature. And, what then shall we say of our dear friend, Henry Blenkarne, so recently carried to his rest. Who can ever forget his pure and simple nature, his spotless life, and those endearing virtues which attached him so closely to all whose privilege it was to enjoy his friendship—one of Nature’s gentlemen, delicate and considerate of the feelings of others, generous to the poor at the sacrifice of his valuable life, ready at all seasons to give his time for the promotion of any and every benevolent scheme in connexion with our calling; we shall long mourn over the good old man. As I stood by and saw his remains committed to the ground but the other day, my mind reverted to the other honoured members I have mentioned, and I felt that one and all had realized and fulfilled to the letter the following monition ofBacon:—
“I hold every man a debtor to his profession, from the which as men of course do seek to receivecountenance and profit, so ought they of duty to endeavour themselves, by way of amends, to be a help and ornament thereunto.”
I now beg permission to draw the curtain. I have laid before you, with but little skill, some rapid sketches of our illustrious predecessors. I have shown how worthily they have fulfilled their mission; and, having approached the advent of that great man, to whose memory we dedicate this evening, I make my bow and retire, first thanking you for the attention you have accorded to my dull recital. I pause now because I can add nothing to your knowledge of the character and labours of John Hunter. His patience under such difficulties as would have destroyed an ordinary worker, and his sublime indifference to personal comfort and advantage when the interest of that science, which he so well loved was in question—are “familiar in your ears as household words.”
But, whilst we honour him by these periodical meetings, and by the discussion of subjects the elaboration of which formed the happiness of his life, it is only in the great museum, founded by his energy, that the grandeur of his character can be felt.
In that hallowed path, in which he delighted to tread, the mantle of his genius has fallen upon one who, with a kindred love, aided by the marvellous instinct of his own original mind, still follows out the investigations of the great author, adding each day something to theknowledgeknowledgewhich went before, and still turning over some new page of the book of Nature, wherein the finger of God has written, in characters hitherto undeciphered, fresh evidences of His glorious infinity. Under the auspices of our honorary member, Professor Owen, we gaze and admire.