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diff --git a/40161-0.txt b/40161-0.txt index 1a0e80d..73c8a2a 100644 --- a/40161-0.txt +++ b/40161-0.txt @@ -1,28 +1,4 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Book about Doctors, by John Cordy Jeaffreson - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: A Book about Doctors - -Author: John Cordy Jeaffreson - -Release Date: July 8, 2012 [eBook #40161] -[Most recently updated: April 4, 2023] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Irma Špehar and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BOOK ABOUT DOCTORS *** - - - +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40161 *** Transcriber's note: @@ -16225,354 +16201,4 @@ INDEX. Yaxley, Dr. Robert, 21. - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BOOK ABOUT DOCTORS *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: A Book about Doctors</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: John Cordy Jeaffreson</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: July 8, 2012 [eBook #40161]<br /> -[Most recently updated: April 4, 2023]</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Irma Špehar and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team</div> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BOOK ABOUT DOCTORS ***</div> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40161 ***</div> <div class="tn"><h3>Transcriber's note:</h3> <p>Spelling and punctuation are sometimes erratic. A few obvious misprints have been corrected, but in general the original spelling and @@ -20110,447 +20093,6 @@ no excuse, as it was so clearly laid down in the chart. <p>Page 515: Index entry for Rushe, Sir Thomas, 26.—"26" changed to "25".</p> </div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BOOK ABOUT DOCTORS ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: A Book about Doctors - -Author: John Cordy Jeaffreson - -Release Date: July 8, 2012 [EBook #40161] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BOOK ABOUT DOCTORS *** - - - - -Produced by Irma pehar and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - -Transcriber's note: - -Spelling and punctuation are sometimes erratic. A few obvious -misprints have been corrected, but in general the original spelling -and typesetting conventions have been retained. Accents are -inconsistent, and have not been standardised. - -Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - -Text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=). - -Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals. - - - - - THE DOCTOR'S - RECREATION SERIES - - CHARLES WELLS MOULTON - - _General Editor_ - - VOLUME FOUR - -[Illustration: _PROF. BILLROTH'S SURGICAL CLYNIC_ - -_A. F. SELLIGMANN, PINX._ - -_COPYRIGHT 1892 WM. WOOD & CO. NEW YORK_] - -[Illustration: title page] - - - - A Book About - DOCTORS - - By - - John Cordy Jeaffreson - - Author of "The Real Lord Byron," "The Real - Shelley," "A Book About Lawyers," - etc., etc. - - 1904 - - THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING CO. - - NEW YORK AKRON, O. CHICAGO - COPYRIGHT, 1904, - BY - THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY - - THE - WERNER COMPANY - AKRON, O. - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - PAGE. - - CHAPTER I. - Something about Sticks, and rather less about Wigs 5 - - CHAPTER II. - Early English Physicians 18 - - CHAPTER III. - Sir Thomas Browne and Sir Kenelm Digby 38 - - CHAPTER IV. - Sir Hans Sloane 51 - - CHAPTER V. - The Apothecaries and Sir Samuel Garth 63 - - CHAPTER VI. - Quacks 82 - - CHAPTER VII. - John Radcliffe 111 - - CHAPTER VIII. - The Doctor as a _bon-vivant_ 144 - - CHAPTER IX. - Fees 163 - - CHAPTER X. - Pedagogues turned Doctors 183 - - CHAPTER XI. - The Generosity and Parsimony of Physicians 202 - - CHAPTER XII. - Bleeding 225 - - CHAPTER XIII. - Richard Mead 239 - - CHAPTER XIV. - Imagination as a Remedial Power 255 - - CHAPTER XV. - Imagination and Nervous Excitement--Mesmer 280 - - CHAPTER XVI. - Make way for the Ladies! 287 - - CHAPTER XVII. - Messenger Monsey 311 - - CHAPTER XVIII. - Akenside 327 - - CHAPTER XIX. - Lettsom 335 - - CHAPTER XX. - A few More Quacks 345 - - CHAPTER XXI. - St. John Long 356 - - CHAPTER XXII. - The Quarrels of Physicians 374 - - CHAPTER XXIII. - The Loves of Physicians 393 - - CHAPTER XXIV. - Literature and Art 421 - - CHAPTER XXV. - Number Eleven--a Hospital Story 442 - - CHAPTER XXVI. - Medical Buildings 462 - - CHAPTER XXVII. - The Country Medical Man 478 - - - - - ILLUSTRATIONS. - - - PAGE - - PROF. BILLROTH'S SURGICAL CLYNIC[1]. _Frontispiece_ - _From the Original Painting by A. F. Seligmann._ - - THE FOUNDERS OF THE MEDICAL SOCIETY OF LONDON 228 - _From the Original Painting._ - - AN ACCIDENT[1] 258 - _From the Original Painting by Dagnan-Vouveret._ - - THE ANATOMIST 374 - _From the Original Painting by Max._ - - [1] Original by courtesy of William Wood & Co., New York. - - - - -PREFACE. - - -The writer of this volume has endeavoured to collect, in a readable -and attractive form, the best of those medical Ana that have been -preserved by tradition or literature. In doing so, he has not only -done his best to combine and classify old stories, but also cautiously -to select his materials, so that his work, while affording amusement -to the leisure hours of Doctors learned in their craft, might contain -no line that should render it unfit for the drawing-room table. To -effect this, it has been found necessary to reject many valuable and -characteristic anecdotes--some of them entering too minutely into the -mysteries and technicalities of medicine and surgery, and some being -spiced with a humour ill calculated to please the delicacy of the -nineteenth century. - -Much of the contents of this volume has never before been published, -but, after being drawn from a variety of manuscript sources, is now -for the first time submitted to the world. It would be difficult to -enumerate all the persons to whom the writer is indebted for access to -documents, suggestions, critical notes, or memoranda. He cannot, -however, let the present occasion go by without expressing his -gratitude to the College of Physicians, for the prompt urbanity with -which they allowed him to inspect the treasures of their library. To -Dr. Munk, the learned librarian of the College--who for many years, in -the scant leisure allowed him by the urgent demands of an extensive -practice, has found a dignified pastime in antiquarian and biographic -research--the writer's best thanks are due. With a liberality by no -means always found in a student possessed of "special information," -the Doctor surrendered his precious stores to the use of a comparative -stranger, apparently without even thinking of the value of his gift. -But even more than to the librarian of the College of Physicians the -writer is indebted for assistance to his very kind friend Dr. Diamond, -of Twickenham House--a gentleman who, to all the best qualities of a -complete physician, unites the graces of a scholarly mind, an -enthusiasm for art, and the fascinations of a generous nature. - - - - -A BOOK ABOUT DOCTORS - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -SOMETHING ABOUT STICKS, AND RATHER LESS ABOUT WIGS. - - -Properly treated and fully expanded, this subject of "the stick" would -cover all the races of man in all regions and all ages; indeed, it -would hide every member of the human family. Attention could be called -to the respect accorded in every chapter of the world's history, -sacred and profane, to the _rabdos_--to the fasces of the Roman -lictors, which every school-boy honours (often unconsciously) with an -allusion when he says he will _lick_, or vows he won't be -_licked_,--to the herald's staff of Hermes, the caduceus of Mercury, -the wand of AEsculapius, and the rods of Moses and the contending -sorcerers--to the mystic bundles of nine twigs, in honour of the nine -muses, that Dr. Busby loved to wield, and which many a simple English -parent believes Solomon, in all his glory, recommended as an element -in domestic jurisdiction--to the sacred wands of savage tribes, the -staffs of our constables and sheriffs, and the highly polished gold -sticks and black rods that hover about the anterooms of St. James's or -Portsoken. The rule of thumb has been said to be the government of -this world. And what is this thumb but a short stick, a _sceptre_, -emblematic of a sovereign authority which none dares to dispute? "The -stick," says the Egyptian proverb, "came down from heaven." - -The only sticks, however, that we here care to speak about are -physicians' canes, barbers' poles, and the twigs of rue which are -still strewn before the prisoner in the dock of a criminal court. Why -should they be thus strung together? - -The physician's cane is a very ancient part of his insignia. It is now -disused, but up to very recent times no doctor of medicine presumed to -pay a professional visit, or even to be seen in public, without this -mystic wand. Long as a footman's stick, smooth and varnished, with a -heavy gold knob or cross-bar at the top, it was an instrument with -which, down to the present century, every prudent aspirant to medical -practice was provided. The celebrated "gold-headed cane" which -Radcliffe, Mead, Askew, Pitcairn and Baillie successively bore is -preserved in the College of Physicians, bearing the arms which those -gentlemen assumed, or were entitled to. In one respect it deviated -from the physician's cane proper. It has a cross-bar almost like a -crook; whereas a physician's wand ought to have a knob at the top. -This knob in olden times was hollow, and contained a vinaigrette, -which the man of science always held to his nose when he approached a -sick person, so that its fumes might protect him from the noxious -exhalations of his patient. We know timid people who, on the same -plan, have their handkerchiefs washed in camphor-water, and bury their -faces in them whenever they pass the corner of a dingy street, or -cross an open drain, or come in contact with an ill-looking man. When -Howard, the philanthropist, visited Exeter, he found that the medical -officer of the county gaol had caused a clause to be inserted in his -agreement with the magistrates, exonerating him from attendance and -services during any outbreak of the gaol fever. Most likely this -gentleman, by books or experience, had been enlightened as to the -inefficacy of the vinaigrette. - -But though the doctor, like a soldier skulking from the field of -battle, might with impunity decline visiting the wretched captives, -the judge was forced to do his part of the social duty to them--to sit -in their presence during their trial in a close, fetid court; to -brow-beat them when they presumed to make any declaration of their -innocence beyond a brief "not guilty"; to read them an energetic -homily on the consequences of giving way to corrupt passions and evil -manners; and, finally, to order them their proper apportionments of -whipping, or incarceration, or banishment, or death. Such was the -abominable condition of our prisons, that the poor creatures dragged -from them and placed in the dock often by the noxious effluvia of -their bodies made seasoned criminal lawyers turn pale--partly, -perhaps, through fear, but chiefly through physical discomfort. Then -arose the custom of sprinkling aromatic herbs before the prisoners--so -that if the health of his Lordship and the gentlemen of the long robe -suffered from the tainted atmosphere, at least their senses of smell -might be shocked as little as possible. Then, also, came the -chaplain's bouquet, with which that reverend officer was always -provided when accompanying a criminal to Tyburn. Coke used to go -circuit carrying in his hand an enormous fan furnished with a handle, -in the shape of a goodly stick--the whole forming a weapon of offence -or defence. It is not improbable that the shrewd lawyer caused the end -of this cumbrous instrument to be furnished with a vinaigrette. - -So much for the head of the physician's cane. The stick itself was -doubtless a relic of the conjuring paraphernalia with which the -healer, in ignorant and superstitious times, worked upon the -imagination of the credulous. Just as the {~PRESCRIPTION TAKE~} which the doctor affixes -to his prescription is the old astrological sign (ill-drawn) of -Jupiter, so his cane descended to him from Hermes and Mercurius. It -was a relic of old jugglery, and of yet older religion--one of those -baubles which we know well where to find, but which our conservative -tendencies disincline us to sweep away without some grave necessity. - -The charming-stick, the magic AEsculapian wand of the Medicine-man, -differed in shape and significance from the pole of the -barber-surgeon. In the "British Apollo," 1703, No. 3, we read:-- - - "I'd know why he that selleth ale - Hangs out a chequer'd part per pale: - And why a barber at port-hole - Puts forth a parti-coloured pole?" - - ANSWER. - - "In ancient Rome, when men loved fighting, - And wounds and scars took much delight in, - Man-menders then had noble pay-- - Which we call surgeons to this day. - 'Twas order'd that a huge long pole, - With basin deck'd, should grace the hole, - To guide the wounded, who unlopt - Could walk, on stumps the other hopt; - But when they ended all their wars, - And men grew out of love with scars. - Their trade decaying, to keep swimming, - They joined the other trade of trimming; - And to their poles, to publish either, - Thus twisted both their trades together." - -The principal objection that can be made to this answer is that it -leaves the question unanswered, after making only a very lame attempt -to answer it. Lord Thurlow, in a speech delivered in the House of -Peers on 17th of July, 1797, opposing the surgeons' incorporation -bill, said that, "By a statute still in force, the barbers and -surgeons were each to use a pole. The barbers were to have theirs blue -and white, striped with no other appendage; but the surgeons', which -was the same in other respects, was likewise to have a gallipot and a -red rag, to denote the particular nature of their vocation." - -But the reason why the surgeon's pole was adorned with both blue and -red seems to have escaped the Chancellor. The chirurgical pole, -properly tricked, ought to have a line of blue paint, another of red, -and a third of white, winding round its length, in a regular -serpentine progression--the blue representing the venous blood, the -more brilliant colour the arterial, and the white thread being -symbolic of the bandage used in tying up the arm after withdrawing the -ligature. The stick itself is a sign that the operator possesses a -stout staff for his patients to hold, continually tightening and -relaxing their grasp during the operation--accelerating the flow of -the blood by the muscular action of the arm. The phlebotomist's staff -is of great antiquity. It is to be found amongst his properties, in an -illuminated missal of the time of Edward the First, and in an -engraving of the "Comenii Orbis Pictus." - -Possibly in ancient times the physician's cane and the surgeon's club -were used more actively. For many centuries fustigation was believed -in as a sovereign remedy for bodily ailment as well as moral failings, -and a beating was prescribed for an ague as frequently as for picking -and stealing. This process Antonius Musa employed to cure Octavius -Augustus of Sciatica. Thomas Campanella believed that it had the same -effect as colocynth administered internally. Galen recommended it as a -means of fattening people. Gordonius prescribed it in certain cases of -nervous irritability--"Si sit juvenis, et non vult obedire, -flagelletur frequenter et fortiter." In some rural districts ignorant -mothers still flog the feet of their children to cure them of -chilblains. And there remains on record a case in which club-tincture -produced excellent results on a young patient to whom Desault gave a -liberal dose of it. - -In 1792, when Sir Astley Cooper was in Paris, he attended the lectures -of Desault and Chopart in the Hotel Dieu. On one occasion, during this -part of his student course, Cooper saw a young fellow, of some sixteen -years of age, brought before Desault complaining of paralysis in his -right arm. Suspecting that the boy was only shamming, "Abraham," -Desault observed, unconcernedly, "Otez votre chapeau." - -Forgetting his paralytic story, the boy instantly obeyed, and -uncovered his head. - -"Donnez moi un baton!" screamed Desault; and he beat the boy -unmercifully. - -"D'ou venez vous?" inquired the operator when the castigation was -brought to a close. - -"Faubourg de St. Antoine," was the answer. - -"Oui, je le crois," replied Desault, with a shrug--speaking a truth -experience had taught him--"tous les coquins viennent de ce quartier -la." - -But enough for the present of the barber-surgeon and his pole. -"Tollite barberum,"--as Bonnel Thornton suggested, when in 1745 (a -year barbarous in more ways than one), the surgeons, on being -disjoined from the barbers, were asking what ought to be their motto. - -Next to his cane, the physician's wig was the most important of his -accoutrements. It gave profound learning and wise thought to lads just -out of their teens. As the horse-hair skull-cap gives idle Mr. -Briefless all the acuteness and gravity of aspect which one looks for -in an attorney-general, so the doctor's artificial locks were to him a -crown of honour. One of the Dukes of Holstein, in the eighteenth -century, just missed destruction through being warned not to put on -his head a poisoned wig which a traitorous peruke-maker offered him. -To test the value of the advice given him, the Duke had the wig put -upon the head of its fabricator. Within twelve minutes the man -expired! We have never heard of a physician finding death in a wig; -but a doctor who found the means of life in one is no rare bird in -history. - - "Each son of Sol, to make him look more big, - Had on a large, grave, decent, three-tailed wig; - His clothes full-trimmed, with button-holes behind, - Stiff were the skirts, with buckram stoutly lined; - The cloth-cut velvet, or more reverend black, - Full-made, and powder'd half-way down his back; - Large decent cuffs, which near the ground did reach, - With half a dozen buttons fix'd on each. - Grave were their faces--fix'd in solemn state, - These men struck awe; their children carried weight, - In reverend wigs old heads young shoulders bore, - And twenty-five or thirty seemed threescore." - -The three-tailed wig was the one worn by Will Atkins, the gout doctor -in Charles the Second's time (a good specialty then!). Will Atkins -lived in the Old Bailey, and had a vast practice. His nostrums, some -of which were composed of _thirty_ different ingredients, were -wonderful--but far less so than his wig, which was combed and frizzled -over each cheek. When Will walked about the town, visiting his -patients, he sometimes carried a cane, but never wore a hat. Such an -article of costume would have disarranged the beautiful locks, or, at -least, have obscured their glory. - - "Physic of old her entry made - Beneath th' immense full-bottom's shade; - While the gilt cane, with solemn pride, - To each sagacious nose applied, - Seem'd but a necessary prop - To bear the weight of wig at top." - -One of the most magnificent wigs on record was that of Colonel -Dalmahoy, which was celebrated in a song beginning:-- - - "If you would see a noble wig, - And in that wig a man look big, - To Ludgate Hill repair, my joy, - And gaze on Col'nel Dalmahoy." - -On Ludgate Hill, in close proximity to the Hall of the Apothecaries in -Water Lane, the Colonel vended drugs and nostrums of all -sorts--sweetmeats, washes for the complexion, scented oil for the -hair, pomades, love-drops, and charms. Wadd, the humorous collector of -anecdotes relating to his profession, records of him-- - - "Dalmahoy sold infusions and lotions, - Decoctions, and gargles, and pills; - Electuaries, powders, and potions, - Spermaceti, salts, scammony, squills. - - "Horse-aloes, burnt alum, agaric, - Balm, benzoine, blood-stone, and dill; - Castor, camphor, and acid tartaric, - With specifics for every ill. - - "But with all his specifics in store, - Death on Dalmahoy one day did pop; - And although he had doctors a score, - Made poor Dalmahoy shut up his shop." - -The last silk-coated physician was Henry Revell Reynolds, M. D., one -of the physicians who attended George III. during his long and -melancholy affliction. Though this gentleman came quite down to living -times, he persisted to the end in wearing the costume--of a -well-powdered wig, silk coat, breeches, stockings, buckled shoes, -gold-headed cane, and lace ruffles--with which he commenced his -career. He was the Brummel of the Faculty, and retained his fondness -for delicate apparel to the last. Even in his grave-clothes the -coxcombical tastes of the man exhibited themselves. His very cerements -were of "a good make." - - "Here well-dressed Reynolds lies. - As great a beau as ever; - We may perhaps see one as wise, - But sure a smarter never." - -Whilst Brocklesby's wig is still bobbing about in the distance, we may -as well tell a good story of him. He was an eccentric man, with many -good points, one of which was his friendship for Dr. Johnson. The -Duchess of Richmond requested Brocklesby to visit her maid, who was so -ill that she could not leave her bed. The physician proceeded -forthwith to Richmond House, in obedience to the command. On arriving -there he was shown up-stairs by the invalid's husband, who held the -post of valet to the Duke. The man was a very intelligent fellow, a -character with whom all visitors to Richmond House conversed freely, -and a vehement politician. In this last characteristic the Doctor -resembled him. Slowly the physician and the valet ascended the -staircase, discussing the fate of parties, and the merits of -ministers. They became excited, and declaiming at the top of their -voices entered the sick room. The valet--forgetful of his marital -duties in the delights of an intellectual contest--poured in a -broadside of sarcasms, ironical inquiries, and red-hot declamation; -the doctor--with true English pluck--returning fire, volley for -volley. The battle lasted for upwards of an hour, when the two -combatants walked down-stairs, and the man of medicine took his -departure. When the doctor arrived at his door, and was stepping from -his carriage, it flashed across his mind that he had not applied his -finger to his patient's pulse, or even asked her how she felt herself! - -Previous to Charles II.'s reign physicians were in the habit of -visiting their patients on horse-back, sitting sideways on foot-cloths -like women. Simeon Fox and Dr. Argent were the last Presidents of the -College of Physicians to go their rounds in this undignified manner. -With the "Restoration" came the carriage of the London physician. The -_Lex Talionis_ says, "For there must now be a little coach and two -horses; and, being thus attended, half-a-piece, their usual fee, is -but ill-taken, and popped into their left pocket, and possibly may -cause the patient to send for his worship twice before he will come -again to the hazard of another angel." - -The fashion, once commenced, soon prevailed. In Queen Anne's reign, no -physician with the slightest pretensions to practice could manage -without his chariot and four, sometimes even six, horses. In our own -day an equipage of some sort is considered so necessary an appendage -to a medical practitioner, that a physician without a carriage (or a -fly that can pass muster for one) is looked on with suspicion. He is -marked down _mauvais sujet_ in the same list with clergymen without -duty, barristers without chambers, and gentlemen whose Irish tenantry -obstinately refuse to keep them supplied with money. On the whole the -carriage system is a good one. It protects stair carpets from being -soiled with muddy boots (a great thing!), and bears cruelly on needy -aspirants after professional employment (a yet greater thing! and one -that manifestly ought to be the object of all professional -etiquette!). If the early struggles of many fashionable physicians -were fully and courageously written, we should have some heart-rending -stories of the screwing and scraping and shifts by which their first -equipages were maintained. Who hasn't heard of the darling doctor who -taught singing under the moustachioed and bearded guise of an Italian -Count, at a young ladies' school at Clapham, in order that he might -make his daily West-end calls between 3 p. m. and 6 p. m. in a -well-built brougham drawn by a fiery steed from a livery stable? There -was one noted case of a young physician who provided himself with the -means of figuring in a brougham during the May-fair morning, by -condescending to the garb and duties of a flyman during the hours of -darkness. He used the same carriage at both periods of the -four-and-twenty hours, lolling in it by daylight, and sitting on it by -gaslight. The poor fellow forgetting himself on one occasion, so far -as to jump _in_ when he ought to have jumped _on_, or jump _on_ when -he ought to have jumped _in_, he published his delicate secret to an -unkind world. - -It is a rash thing for a young man to start his carriage, unless he is -sure of being able to sustain it for a dozen years. To drop it is sure -destruction. We remember an ambitious Phaeton of Hospitals who -astonished the world--not only of his profession, but of all -London--with an equipage fit for an ambassador--the vehicle and the -steeds being obtained, like the arms blazoned on his panels, upon -credit. Six years afterwards he was met by a friend crushing the mud -on the Marylebone pavements, and with a characteristic assurance, that -even adversity was unable to deprive him of, said that his health was -so much deranged that his dear friend, Sir James Clarke, had -prescribed continual walking exercise for him as the only means of -recovering his powers of digestion. His friends--good-natured people, -as friends always are--observed that "it was a pity Sir James hadn't -given him the advice a few years sooner--prevention being better than -cure." - -Though physicians began generally to take to carriages in Charles -II.'s reign, it may not be supposed that no doctor of medicine before -that time experienced the motion of a wheeled carriage. In "Stowe's -Survey of London" one may read:-- - - "In the year 1563, Dr. Langton, a physician, rid in a car, - with a gown of damask, lined with velvet, and a coat of - velvet, and a cap of the same (such, it seems, doctors then - wore), but having a blue hood pinned over his cap; which was - (as it seems) a customary mark of guilt. And so came through - Cheapside on a market-day." - -The doctor's offence was one against public morals. He had loved not -wisely--but too well. The same generous weakness has brought learned -doctors, since Langton's day, into extremely ridiculous positions. - -The cane, wig, silk coat, stockings, side-saddle, and carriage, of the -old physician have been mentioned. We may not pass over his muff in -silence. That he might have his hands warm and delicate of touch, and -so be able to discriminate to a nicety the qualities of his patient's -arterial pulsations, he made his rounds, in cold weather, holding -before him a large fur muff, in which his fingers and fore-arm were -concealed. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -EARLY ENGLISH PHYSICIANS. - - "Medicine is a science which hath been, as we have said, - more professed than laboured, and yet more laboured than - advanced; the labour having been, in my judgment, rather in - circle than in progression. For I find much iteration, and - small progression."--Lord Bacon's _Advancement of Learning_. - - -The British doctor, however, does not make his first appearance in -sable dress and full-bottomed wig. Chaucer's physician, who was -"groundit in Astronomy and Magyk Naturel," and whose "study was but -lytyl in the Bible," had a far smarter and more attractive dress. - - "In sanguyn and in perse he clad was al, - Lined with taffata and with sendal." - -Taffeta and silk, of crimson and sky-blue colour, must have given an -imposing appearance to this worthy gentleman, who, resembling many -later doctors in his disuse of the Bible, resembled them also in his -love of fees. - - "And yit he was but esy of dispence, - He kepte that he won in pestelence; - For gold in physik is a cordial; - Therefore he lovede gold in special." - -Amongst our more celebrated and learned English physicians was John -Phreas, born about the commencement of the fifteenth century, and -educated at Oxford, where he obtained a fellowship on the foundation -of Balliol College. His M. D. degree he obtained in Padua, and the -large fortune he made by the practice of physic was also acquired in -Italy. He was a poet and an accomplished scholar. Some of his epistles -in MS. are still preserved in the Balliol Library and at the Bodleian. -His translation of Diodorus Siculus, dedicated to Paul II., procured -for him from that pontiff the fatal gift of an English bishopric. A -disappointed candidate for the same preferment is said to have -poisoned him before the day appointed for his consecration. - -Of Thomas Linacre, successively physician to Henry VII., Henry VIII., -Edward VI., and Princess Mary, the memory is still green amongst men. -At his request, in conjunction with the representations of John -Chambre, Fernandus de Victoria, Nicholas Halswell, John Fraunces, -Robert Yaxley (physicians), and Cardinal Wolsey, Henry VIII. granted -letters patent, establishing the College of Physicians, and conferring -on its members the sole privilege of practicing, and admitting persons -to practice, within the city, and a circuit of seven miles. The -college also was empowered to license practitioners throughout the -kingdom, save such as were graduates of Oxford and Cambridge--who were -to be exempt from the jurisdiction of the new college, save within -London and its precincts. Linacre was the first President of the -College of Physicians. The meetings of the learned corporation were -held at Linacre's private house, No. 5, Knight-Rider Street, Doctors' -Commons. This house (on which the Physician's arms, granted by -Christopher Barker, Garter King-at-arms, Sept. 20, 1546, may still be -seen,) was bequeathed to the college by Linacre, and long remained -their property and abode. The original charter of the brotherhood -states: "Before this period a great multitude of ignorant persons, of -whom the greater part had no insight into physic, nor into any other -kind of learning--some could not even read the letters and the -book--so far forth, that common artificers, as smiths, weavers and -women, boldly and accustomably took upon them great cures, to the high -displeasure of God, great infamy of the Faculty, and the grievous -hurt, damage, and destruction of many of the king's liege people." - -Linacre died in the October of 1524. Caius, writing his epitaph, -concludes, "Fraudes dolosque mire perosus, fidus amicis, omnibus juxta -charus; aliquot annos antequam obierat Presbyter factus; plenus annes, -ex hac vita migravit, multum desideratus." His motive for taking holy -orders towards the latter part of his life is unknown. Possibly he -imagined the sacerdotal garb would be a secure and comfortable -clothing in the grave. Certainly he was not a profound theologian. A -short while before his death he read the New Testament for the first -time, when so great was his astonishment at finding the rules of -Christians widely at variance with their practice, that he threw the -sacred volume from him in a passion, and exclaimed, "Either this is -not the gospel, or we are not Christians." - -Of the generation next succeeding Linacre's was John Kaye, or Key (or -Caius, as it has been long pedantically spelt). Like Linacre (the -elegant writer and intimate friend of Erasmus), Caius is associated -with letters not less than medicine. Born of a respectable Norfolk -family, Caius raised, on the foundation of Gonvil Hall, the college in -the University of Cambridge that bears his name--to which Eastern -Counties' men do mostly resort. Those who know Cambridge remember the -quaint humour with which, in obedience to the founder's will, the -gates of Caius are named. As a president of the College of Physicians, -Caius was a zealous defender of the rights of his order. It has been -suggested that Shakespeare's Dr. Caius, in "The Merry Wives of -Windsor," was produced in resentment towards the president, for his -excessive fervor against the surgeons. - -Caius terminated his laborious and honourable career on July the 29th, -1573, in the sixty-third year of his age.[2] He was buried in his -college chapel, in a tomb constructed some time before his decease, -and marked with the brief epitaph--"Fui Caius." In the same year in -which this physician of Edward VI., Mary, and Elizabeth died, was born -Theodore Turquet de Mayerne, Baron Aulbone of France, and Sir Theodore -Mayerne in England. Of Mayerne mention will be made in various places -of these pages. There is some difficulty in ascertaining to how many -crowned heads this lucky courtier was appointed physician. After -leaving France and permanently fixing himself in England, he kept up -his connection with the French, so that the list of his -monarch-patients may be said to comprise two French and three English -sovereigns--Henry IV. and Louis XIII. of France, and James I., Charles -I., and Charles II. of England. Mayerne died at Chelsea, in the -eighty-second year of his age, on the 15th of March, 1655. Like John -Hunter, he was buried in the church of St. Martin's-in-the-Fields. His -library went to the College of Physicians, and his wealth to his only -daughter, who was married to the Marquis of Montpouvillon. Though -Mayerne was the most eminent physician of his time, his prescriptions -show that his enlightenment was not superior to the prevailing -ignorance of the period. He recommended a monthly excess of wine and -food as a fine stimulant to the system. His treatise on Gout, written -in French, and translated into English (1676) by Charles II.'s -physician in ordinary, Dr. Thomas Sherley, recommends a clumsy and -inordinate administration of violent drugs. Calomel he habitually -administered in scruple doses. Sugar of lead he mixed largely in his -conserves; pulverized human bones he was very fond of prescribing; and -the principal ingredient in his gout-powder was "raspings of a human -skull unburied." But his sweetest compound was his "Balsam of Bats," -strongly recommended as an unguent for hypochondriacal persons, into -which entered adders, bats, suckling whelps, earth-worms, hog's -grease, the marrow of a stag, and the thigh-bone of an ox. After such -a specimen of the doctor's skill, possibly the reader will not care to -study his receipts for canine madness, communicated to the Royal -Society in 1687, or his "Excellent and well-approved Receipts and -Experiments in Cookery, with the best way of Preserving." Nor will the -reader be surprised to learn that the great physician had a firm -belief in the efficacy of amulets and charms. - - [2] In Dr. Moussett's "Health's Improvement; or Rules concerning Food" - is a curious passage relating to this eminent physician's decay. - -But the ignorance and superstition of which Mayerne was the -representative were approaching the close of their career; and Sir -Theodore's court celebrity and splendour were to become contemptible -by the side of the scientific achievements of a contemporary. The -grave closed over Mayerne in 1655; but in the December of 1652, the -College of Physicians had erected in their hall a statue of Harvey, -who died on the third of June, 1657, aged seventy-nine years. - - "The circling streams, once thought but pools of blood - (Whether life's fuel, or the body's food), - From dark oblivion Harvey's name shall save." - -Aubrey says of Harvey--"He was not tall, but of the lowest stature; -round-faced, olivaster (waintscott) complexion; little eie--round, -very black, full of spirit; his haire was black as a raven, but quite -white twenty years before he dyed. I remember he was wont to drink -coffee, which he and his brother Eliab did, before coffee-houses were -in fashion in London. He was, as all the rest of his brothers, very -cholerique; and in his younger days wore a dagger (as the fashion then -was); but this doctor would be apt to draw out his dagger upon every -slight occasion. He rode on _horse-back with a foot-cloath to visit -his patients, his man following on foot, as the fashion then was, was -very decent, now quite discontinued_." - -Harvey's discovery dates a new era in medical and surgical science. -Its influence on scientific men, not only as a stepping-stone to -further discoveries, but as a power rousing in all quarters a spirit -of philosophic investigation, was immediately perceptible. A new class -of students arose, before whom the foolish dreams of medical -superstition and the darkness of empiricism slowly disappeared. - -Of the physicians[3] of what may be termed the Elizabethan era, beyond -all others the most sagacious and interesting, is William Bulleyn. He -belongs to a bevy of distinguished Eastern Counties' physicians. Dr. -Butts, Henry VIII.'s physician, mentioned in Strype's "Life of -Cranmer," and made celebrated amongst doctors by Shakespeare's "Henry -the Eighth," belonged to an honourable and gentle family sprinkled -over Norfolk, Suffolk, and Cambridgeshire. The butcher king knighted -him by the style of William Butts of Norfolk. Caius was born at -Norwich; and the eccentric William Butler, of whom Mayerne, Aubrey, -and Fuller tell fantastic stories, was born at Ipswich, about the year -1535. - - [3] To the acquirements of the Elizabethan physicians in every - department of learning, _save_ the sciences immediately concerning - their own profession, Lord Bacon bears emphatic testimony--"For you - shall have of them antiquaries, poets, humanists, statesmen, - merchants, divines." - -William Bulleyn was born in the isle of Ely; but it is with the -eastern division of the county of Suffolk that his name is especially -associated. Sir William Bulleyn, the Sheriff of Norfolk and Suffolk -in the fifteenth year of Henry VII., and grandfather of the -unfortunate Anne Boleyn, was one of the magnates of the doctor's -family--members of which are still to be found in Ipswich and other -parts of East Anglia, occupying positions of high respectability. In -the reigns of Edward VI., Mary, and Elizabeth, no one ranked higher -than William Bulleyn as botanist and physician. The record of his -acuteness and learning is found in his numerous works, which are -amongst the most interesting prose writings of the Elizabethan era. If -Mr. Bohn, who has already done so much to render old and neglected -authors popular, would present the public with a well-edited reprint -of Bulleyn's works, he would make a valuable addition to the services -he has already conferred on literature. - -After receiving a preliminary education in the University of -Cambridge, Bulleyn enlarged his mind by extended travel, spending much -time in Germany and Scotland. During the reign of Queen Mary he -practiced in Norwich; but he moved to Blaxhall, in Suffolk (of which -parish it is believed his brother was for some years rector). Alluding -to his wealthy friend, Sir Thomas Rushe, of Oxford, he says, with a -pun, "I myself did know a Rushe, growing in the fenne side, by Orford, -in Suffolke, that might have spent three hundred marks by year. Was -not this a _rush_ of estimation? A fewe sutche rushes be better than -many great trees or bushes. But thou doste not know that countrey, -where sometyme I did dwell, at a place called Blaxall, neere to that -_Rushe Bushe_. I would all rushes within this realme were as riche in -value." (The ancient family still maintain their connection with the -county.) Speaking of the rushes near Orford, in Suffolk, and about the -isle of Ely, Bulleyn says, "The playne people make mattes and -horse-collars of the greater rushes, and of the smaller they make -lightes or candles for the winter. Rushes that growe upon dry groundes -be good to strewe in halles, chambers, and galleries, to walk -upon--defending apparell, as traynes of gownes and kirtles, from the -dust." - -He tells of the virtues of Suffolk sage (a herb that the nurses of -that county still believe in as having miraculous effects, when -administered in the form of "sage-tea"). Of Suffolk hops (now but -little grown in the county) he mentions in terms of high -praise--especially of those grown round Framlingham Castle, and "the -late house of nunnes at Briziarde." "I know in many places of the -country of Suffolke, where they brew theyr beere with hoppes that -growe upon theyr owne groundes, as in a place called Briziarde, near -an old famous castle called Framingham, and in many other places of -the country." Of the peas of Orford the following mention is -made:--"In a place called Orforde, in Suffolke, betwene the haven and -the mayne sea, wheras never plow came, nor natural earth was, but -stones onely, infinite thousand ships loden in that place, there did -pease grow, whose roots were more than iii fadome long, and the coddes -did grow uppon clusters like the keys of ashe trees, bigger than -fitches, and less than the fyeld peason, very sweete to eat upon, and -served many pore people dwelling there at hand, which els should have -perished for honger, the scarcity of bread was so great. In so much -that the playne pore people did make very much of akornes; and a -sickness of a strong fever did sore molest the commons that yere, the -like whereof was never heard of there. Now, whether th' occasion of -these peason, in providence of God, came through some shipwracke with -much misery, or els by miracle, I am not able to determine thereof; -but sowen by man's hand they were not, nor like other pease."[4] - - [4] The tradition of this timely and unaccountable growth of peas - still exists amongst the peasants in the neighbourhood of Orford. J. - C. J. - -In the same way one has in the Doctor's "Book of Simples" pleasant -gossip about the more choice productions of the garden and of -commerce, showing that horticulture must have been far more advanced -at that time than is generally supposed, and that the luxuries -imported from foreign countries were largely consumed throughout the -country. Pears, apples, peaches, quinces, cherries, grapes, raisins, -prunes, barberries, oranges, medlars, raspberries and strawberries, -spinage, ginger, and lettuces are the good things thrown upon the -board. - -Of pears, the author says: "There is a kynd of peares growing in the -city of Norwich, called the black freere's peare, very delicious and -pleasaunt, and no lesse profitable unto a hoate stomacke, as I heard -it reported by a ryght worshipful phisicion of the same city, called -Doctour Manfield." Other pears, too, are mentioned, "sutch as have -names as peare Robert, peare John, bishop's blessyngs, with other -prety names. The red warden is of greate vertue, conserved, roasted -or baken to quench choller." The varieties of the apple especially -mentioned are "the costardes, the greene cotes, the pippen, the queene -aple." - -Grapes are spoken of as cultivated and brought to a high state of -perfection in Suffolk and other parts of the country. Hemp is -humorously called "gallow grasse or neckweede." The heartesease, or -paunsie, is mentioned by its quaint old name, "three faces in one -hodde." Parsnips, radishes, and carrots are offered for sale. In the -neighborhood of London, large quantities of these vegetables were -grown for the London market; but Bulleyn thinks little of them, -describing them as "more plentiful than profytable." Of figs--"Figges -be good agaynst melancholy, and the falling evil, to be eaten. Figges, -nuts, and herb grace do make a sufficient medicine against poison or -the pestilence. Figges make a good gargarism to cleanse the throates." - -The double daisy is mentioned as growing in gardens. Daisy tea was -employed in gout and rheumatism--as herb tea of various sorts still is -by the poor of our provinces. With daisy tea (or _bellis-tea_) "I, -Bulleyn, did recover one Belliser, not onely from a spice of the -palsie, but also from the quartan. And afterwards, the same Belliser, -more unnatural than a viper, sought divers ways to have murthered me, -taking part against me with my mortal enemies, accompanied with bloudy -ruffins for that bloudy purpose." Parsley, also, was much used in -medicine. And as it was the custom for the doctor to grow his own -herbs in his garden, we may here see the origin of the old nursery -tradition of little babies being brought by the doctor from the -parsley bed.[5] - - [5] The classical reader who is acquainted with the significations of - the Greek {~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER SIGMA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER LAMDA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}, will not be at a loss to account for this - medicinal use of the crisp green leaves. - -Scarcely less interesting than "The Book of Simples" is Bulleyn's -"Dialogue betweene Soarenes and Chirurgi." It opens with an honourable -mention of many distinguished physicians and chirurgians. Dr. John -Kaius is praised as a worthy follower of Linacre. Dr. Turner's "booke -of herbes will always grow greene." Sir Thomas Eliot's "'castel of -health' cannot decay." Thomas Faire "is not deade, but is transformed -and chaunged into a new nature immortal." Androwe Borde, the father of -"Merry Andrews," "wrote also wel of physicke to profit the common -wealth withal." Thomas Pannel, the translator of the Schola -Saternitana, "hath play'd ye good servant to the commonwealth in -translating good bookes of physicke." Dr. William Kunyngham "hath wel -travailed like a good souldiour agaynst the ignorant enemy." Numerous -other less eminent practitioners are mentioned--such as Buns, Edwards, -Hatcher, Frere, Langton, Lorkin, Wendy--educated at Cambridge; Gee and -Simon Ludford, of Oxford; Huyck (the Queen's physician), Bartley, -Carr; Masters, John Porter, of Norwich; Edmunds of York, Robert -Baltrop, and Thomas Calfe, apothecary. - -"Soft chirurgians," says Bulleyn, "make foul sores." He was a bold and -courageous one. "Where the wound is," runs the Philippine proverb, -"the plaster must be." Bulleyn was of the same opinion; but, in -dressing a tender part, the surgeon is directed to have "a gladsome -countenance," because "the paciente should not be greatly troubled." -For bad surgeons he has not less hostility than he has for - - "Petty Foggers, in cases of the law, - Who make mountaynes of molhils, and trees of a straw." - -The state of medicine in Elizabeth's reign may be discovered by a -survey of the best recipes of this physician, who, in sagacity and -learning, was far superior to Sir Theodore Mayerne, his successor by a -long interval. - -"_An Embrocation._--An embrocation is made after this manner:--{~PRESCRIPTION TAKE~}. -Of a decoction of mallowes, vyolets, barly, quince seed, lettice -leaves, one pint; of barly meale, two ounces; of oyle of vyolets and -roses, of each, an ounce and half; of butter, one ounce; and then -seeth them all together till they be like a broathe, puttyng thereto, -at the ende, four yolkes of eggs; and the maner of applying them is -with peeces of cloth, dipped in the aforesaid decoction, being -actually hoate." - -"_A Good Emplaster._--You shall mak a plaster with these medicines -following, which the great learned men themselves have used unto their -pacientes:--{~PRESCRIPTION TAKE~}. Of hulled beanes, or beane flower that is -without the brane, one pound; of mallow-leaves, two handfuls; seethe -them in lye, til they be well sodden, and afterwarde let them be -stamped and incorporate with four ounces of meale of lint or flaxe, -two ounces of meale of lupina; and forme thereof a plaster with goat's -grease, for this openeth the pores, avoideth the matter, and -comforteth also the member; but if the place, after a daye or two of -the application, fall more and more to blackness, it shall be -necessary to go further, even to sacrifying and incision of the -place." - -Pearl electuaries and pearl mixtures were very fashionable medicines -with the wealthy down to the commencement of the eighteenth century. -Here we have Bulleyn's recipe for - -"_Electuarium de Gemmis._--Take two drachms of white perles; two -little peeces of saphyre; jacinth, corneline, emerauldes, granettes, -of each an ounce; setwal, the sweate roote doronike, the rind of -pomecitron, mace, basel seede, of each two drachms; of redde corall, -amber, shaving of ivory, of each two drachms; rootes both of white and -red behen, ginger, long peper, spicknard, folium indicum, saffron, -cardamon, of each one drachm; of troch, diarodon, lignum aloes, of -each half a small handful; cinnamon, galinga, zurubeth, which is a -kind of setwal, of each one drachm and a half; thin pieces of gold and -sylver, of each half a scruple; of musk, half a drachm. Make your -electuary with honey emblici, which is the fourth kind of mirobalans -with roses, strained in equall partes, as much as will suffice. This -healeth cold diseases of ye braine, harte, stomack. It is a medicine -proved against the tremblynge of the harte, faynting and souning, the -weaknes of the stomacke, pensivenes, solitarines. Kings and noble men -have used this for their comfort. It causeth them to be bold-spirited, -the body to smell wel, and ingendreth to the face good coloure." - -Truly a medicine for kings and noblemen! During the railway panic in -'46 an unfortunate physician prescribed for a nervous lady:-- - - {~PRESCRIPTION TAKE~}. Great Western, 350 shares. - Eastern Counties} - North Middlesex } a--a 1050 - Mft. Haust. 1. Om. noc. cap. - -This direction to a delicate gentlewoman, to swallow nightly two -thousand four hundred and fifty railway shares, was regarded as -evidence of the physician's insanity, and the management of his -private affairs was forthwith taken out of his hands. But assuredly it -was as rational a prescription as Bulleyn's "Electuarium de Gemmis." - -"_A Precious Water._--Take nutmegges, the roote called doronike, which -the apothecaries have, setwall, gatangall, mastike, long peper, the -bark of pomecitron, of mellon, sage, bazel, marjorum, dill, spiknard, -wood of aloes, cubebe, cardamon, called graynes of paradise, lavender, -peniroyall, mintes, sweet catamus, germander, enulacampana, rosemary, -stichados, and quinance, of eche lyke quantity; saffron, an ounce and -half; the bone of a harte's heart grated, cut, and stamped; and beate -your spyces grossly in a morter. Put in ambergrice and musk, of each -half a drachm. Distil this in a simple aqua vitae, made with strong -ale, or sackeleyes and aniseedes, not in a common styll, but in a -serpentine; to tell the vertue of this water against colde, phlegme, -dropsy, heavines of minde, comming of melancholy, I cannot well at -thys present, the excellent virtues thereof are sutch, and also the -tyme were to long." - -The cure of cancers has been pretended and attempted by a numerous -train of knaves and simpletons, as well as men of science. In the -Elizabethan time this most terrible of maladies was thought to be -influenced by certain precious waters--_i. e._ precious messes. - -"Many good men and women," says Bulleyn, "wythin thys realme have -dyvers and sundry medicines for the canker, and do help their -neighboures that bee in perill and daunger whyche be not onely poore -and needy, having no money to spende in chirurgie. But some do well -where no chirurgians be neere at hand; in such cases, as I have said, -many good gentlemen and ladyes have done no small pleasure to poore -people; as that excellent knyght, and worthy learned man, Syr Thomas -Eliot, whose works be immortall. Syr William Parris, of -Cambridgeshire, whose cures deserve prayse; Syr William Gascoigne, of -Yorkshire, that helped many soare eyen; and the Lady Tailor, of -Huntingdonshire, and the Lady Darrell of Kent, had many precious -medicines to comfort the sight, and to heale woundes withal, and were -well seene in herbes. - -"The commonwealth hath great want of them, and of theyr medicines, -whych if they had come into my handes, they should have bin written in -my booke. Among al other there was a knight, a man of great worshyp, a -Godly hurtlesse gentleman, which is departed thys lyfe, hys name is -Syr Anthony Heveningham. This gentleman learned a water to kyll a -canker of hys owne mother, whych he used all hys lyfe, to the greate -helpe of many men, women, and chyldren." - -This water "learned by Syr Anthony Heveningham" was, Bulleyn states on -report, composed thus:-- - -"_Precious Water to Cure a Canker_:--Take dove's foote, a herbe so -named, Arkangell ivy wyth the berries, young red bryer toppes, and -leaves, whyte roses, theyr leaves and buds, red sage, selandyne, and -woodbynde, of eche lyke quantity, cut or chopped and put into pure -cleane whyte wyne, and clarified hony. Then breake into it alum glasse -and put in a little of the pouder of aloes hepatica. Destill these -together softly in a limbecke of glasse or pure tin; if not, then in -limbecke wherein aqua vitae is made. Keep this water close. It will not -onely kyll the canker, if it be duly washed therewyth; but also two -droppes dayly put into the eye wyll sharp the syght, and breake the -pearle and spottes, specially if it be dropped in with a little fenell -water, and close the eys after." - -There is reason to wish that all empirical applications, for the cure -of cancer, were as harmless as this. - -The following prescription for pomatum differs but little from the -common domestic receipts for lip-salve in use at the present day:-- - -"_Sickness._--How make you pomatum? - -"_Health._--Take the fat of a young kyd one pound, temper it with the -water of musk roses by the space of foure dayes; then take five -apples, and dresse them, and cut them in pieces, and lard them with -cloves, then boyle them altogeather in the same water of roses, in one -vessel of glasse; set within another vessel; let it boyle on the fyre -so long until all be white; then wash them with ye same water of muske -roses; this done, kepe it in a glass; and if you wil have it to smel -better, then you must put in a little civet or musk, or of them both, -and ambergrice. Gentilwomen doe use this to make theyr faces smoth and -fayre, for it healeth cliftes in the lyppes, or in any other place of -the hands and face." - -The most laughable of all Bulleyn's receipts is one in which, for the -cure of a child suffering under a certain nervous malady, he -prescribes "a smal yong mouse rosted." To some a "rosted mouse" may -seem more palatable than the compound in which snails are the -principal ingredient. "Snayles," says Bulleyn, "broken from the -shelles and sodden in whyte wyne with oyle and sugar are very holsome, -because they be hoat and moist for the straightnes of the lungs and -cold cough. Snails stamped with camphory, and leven wil draw forth -prycks in the flesh." So long did this belief in the virtue of snails -retain its hold on Suffolk, that the writer of these pages remembers a -venerable lady (whose memory is cherished for her unostentatious -benevolence and rare worth) who for years daily took a cup of snail -broth, for the benefit of a weak chest. - -One minor feature of Bulleyn's works is the number of receipts given -in them for curing the bites of mad dogs. The good man's horror of -Suffolk witches is equal to his admiration of Suffolk dairies. Of the -former he says, "I dyd know wythin these few yeres a false witch, -called M. Line, in a towne of Suffolke called Derham, which with a -payre of ebene beades, and certain charmes, had no small resort of -foolysh women, when theyr chyldren were syck. To thys lame wytch they -resorted, to have the fairie charmed and the spyrite conjured away; -through the prayers of the ebene beades, whych she said came from the -Holy Land, and were sanctifyed at Rome. Through whom many goodly cures -were don, but my chaunce was to burn ye said beades. Oh that damnable -witches be suffred to live unpunished and so many blessed men burned; -witches be more hurtful in this realm than either quarten or -pestilence. I know in a towne called Kelshall in Suffolke, a witch, -whose name was M. Didge, who with certain _Ave Marias_ upon her ebene -beades, and a waxe candle, used this charme for S. Anthonies fyre, -having the sycke body before her, holding up her hande, saying-- - - 'There came two angels out of the North-east, - One brought fyre, the other brought frost,-- - Out fyre, and in frost!' - -"I could reherse an hundred of sutch knackes, of these holy gossips. -The fyre take them all, for they be God's enemyes." - -On leaving Blaxhall in Suffolk, Bulleyn migrated to the north. For -many years he practised with success at Durham. At Shields he owned a -considerable property. Sir Thomas, Baron of Hilton, Commander of -Tinmouth Castle under Philip and Mary, was his patron and intimate -friend. His first book, entitled "Government of Health," he dedicated -to Sir Thomas Hilton; but the MS., unfortunately, was lost in a -shipwreck before it was printed. Disheartened by this loss, and the -death of his patron, Bulleyn bravely set to work in London, to "revive -his dead book." Whilst engaged on the laborious work of recomposition, -he was arraigned on a grave charge of murder. "One William Hilton," he -says, telling his own story, "brother to the sayd Syr Thomas Hilton, -accused me of no less cryme then of most cruel murder of his owne -brother, who dyed of a fever (sent onely of God) among his owne -frends, fynishing his lyfe in the Christian fayth. But this William -Hilton caused me to be arraigned before that noble Prince, the Duke's -Grace of Norfolke, for the same; to this end to have had me dyed -shamefully; that with the covetous Ahab he might have, through false -witnes and perjury, obtayned by the counsel of Jezabell, a wineyard, -by the pryce of blood. But it is wrytten, _Testis mendax peribit_, a -fals witnes shal com to naught; his wicked practise was wisely espyed, -his folly deryded, his bloudy purpose letted, and fynallye I was with -justice delivered." - -This occurred in 1560. His foiled enemy afterwards endeavoured to get -him assassinated; but he again triumphed over the machinations of his -adversary. Settling in London, he obtained a large practice, though he -was never enrolled amongst the physicians of the college. His leisure -time he devoted to the composition of his excellent works. To the last -he seems to have kept up a close connection with the leading Eastern -Counties families. His "Comfortable Regiment and Very Wholsome order -against the moste perilous Pleurisie," was dedicated to the Right -Worshipful Sir Robart Wingfelde of Lethryngham, Knight. - -William Bulleyn died in London, on the 7th of January, 1576, and was -buried in the church of St. Giles's, Cripplegate, in the same tomb -wherein his brother Richard had been laid thirteen years before; and -wherein John Fox, the martyrologist, was interred eleven years later. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -SIR THOMAS BROWNE AND SIR KENELM DIGBY. - - -Amongst the physicians of the seventeenth century were three -Brownes--father, son, and grandson. The father wrote the "Religio -Medici," and the "Pseudoxia Epidemica"--a treatise on vulgar errors. -The son was the traveller, and author of "Travels in Hungaria, Servia, -Bulgaria, Macedonia, Thessaly, Austria, Styria, Carinthia, Carniola, -Friuli &c.," and the translator of the Life of Themistocles in the -English version of "Plutarch's Lives" undertaken by Dryden. He was -also a physician of Bartholomew's, and a favourite physician of -Charles II., who on one occasion said of him, "Doctor Browne is as -learned as any of the college, and as well bred as any of the court." -The grandson was a Fellow of the Royal Society, and, like his father -and grandfather, a Fellow of the Royal College of Physicians; but he -was by no means worthy of his distinguished progenitors. Alike unknown -in literature, science, and art, he was a miserable sot, and was -killed by a fall from his horse, between Southfleet and Gravesend, -when in a state of intoxication. He was thus cut off in the July of -1710, having survived his father not quite two years. - -The author of the "Religio Medici" enjoys as good a chance of an -immortality of fame as any of his contemporaries. The child of a -London merchant, who left him a comfortable fortune, Thomas Browne was -from the beginning of his life (Oct. 19, 1605) to its close (Oct. 19, -1682), well placed amongst the wealthier of those who occupied the -middle way of life. From Winchester College, where his schoolboy days -were spent, he proceeded to the University of Oxford, becoming a -member of Broadgates Hall, i.e., Pembroke College--the college of -Blackstone, Shenstone, and Samuel Johnson. After taking his B.A. and -M.A. degrees, he turned his attention to medicine, and for some time -practised as a physician in Oxfordshire. Subsequently to this he -travelled over different parts of Europe, visiting France, Italy, and -Holland, and taking a degree of Doctor in Physic at Leyden. Returning -to England, he settled at Norwich, married a rich and beautiful -Norfolk lady, named Mileham; and for the rest of his days resided in -that ancient city, industriously occupied with an extensive practice, -the pursuits of literature, and the education of his children. When -Charles II. visited Norwich in 1671, Thomas Browne, M.D., was knighted -by the royal hand. This honour, little as a man of letters would now -esteem it, was highly prized by the philosopher. He thus alludes to it -in his "Antiquities of Norwich"--"And it is not for some wonder, that -Norwich having been for so long a time so considerable a place, so few -kings have visited it; of which number among so many monarchs since -the Conquest we find but four; viz., King Henry III., Edward I., -Queen Elizabeth, and our gracious sovereign now reigning, King Charles -II., of which I had a particular reason to take notice." - -Amongst the Norfolk people Sir Thomas was very popular, his suave and -unobtrusive manners securing him many friends, and his philosophic -moderation of temper saving him from ever making an enemy. The honour -conferred on him was a subject of congratulation--even amongst his -personal friends, when his back was turned. The Rev. John Whitefoot, -M.A., Rector of Heigham, in Norfolk, in his "Minutes for the Life of -Sir Thomas Browne," says, that had it been his province to preach his -funeral sermon, he should have taken his text from an uncanonical -book--"I mean that of Syracides, or Jesus, the son of Syrach, commonly -called Ecclesiasticus, which, in the 38th chapter, and the first -verse, hath these words, 'Honour a physician with the honour due unto -him; for the uses which you may have of him, for the Lord hath created -him; for of the Most High cometh healing, and he shall receive Honour -of the King' (as ours did that of knighthood from the present King, -when he was in this city). 'The skill of the physician shall lift up -his head, and in the sight of great men shall he be in admiration'; so -was this worthy person by the greatest man of this nation that ever -came into this country, by whom also he was frequently and personally -visited." - -Widely and accurately read in ancient and modern literature, and -possessed of numerous accomplishments, Sir Thomas Browne was in -society diffident almost to shyness. "His modesty," says Whitefoot, -"was visible in a natural habitual blush, which was increased upon the -least occasion, and oft discovered without any observable cause. Those -who knew him only by the briskness of his writings were astonished at -his gravity of aspect and countenance, and freedom from loquacity." As -was his manner, so was his dress. "In his habit of cloathing he had an -aversion to all finery, and affected plainness both in fashion and -ornaments." - -The monuments of Sir Thomas and his lady are in the church of St. -Peter's, Mancroft, Norwich, where they were buried. Some years since -Sir Thomas Browne's tomb was opened for the purpose of submitting it -to repair, when there was discovered on his coffin a plate, of which -Dr. Diamond, who happened at the time to be in Norwich, took two -rubbings, one of which is at present in the writer's custody. It bears -the following interesting inscription:--"Amplissimus vir Dr. Thomas -Browne Miles Medicinae Dr. Annos Natus et Denatus 19 Die Mensis Anno -Dmi., 1682--hoc loculo indormiens corporis spagyrici pulvere plumbum -in aurum convertit." - -The "Religio Medici" not only created an unprecedented sensation by -its erudition and polished style, but it shocked the nervous guardians -of orthodoxy by its boldness of inquiry. It was assailed for its -infidelity and scientific heresies. According to Coleridge's view of -the "Religio Medici," Sir Thomas Browne, "a fine mixture of humourist, -genius, and pedant," was a Spinosist without knowing it. "Had he," -says the poet, "lived nowadays, he would probably have been a very -ingenious and bold infidel in his real opinions, though the kindness -of his nature would have kept him aloof from vulgar, prating, -obtrusive infidelity." - -Amongst the adverse critics of the "Religio Medici" was the eccentric, -gallant, brave, credulous, persevering, frivolous, Sir Kenelm Digby. A -Maecenas, a Sir Philip Sydney, a Dr. Dee, a Beau Fielding, and a Dr. -Kitchener, all in one, this man is chief of those extravagant -characters that astonish the world at rare intervals, and are found -nowhere except in actual life. No novelist of the most advanced -section of the idealistic school would dare to create such a personage -as Sir Kenelm. The eldest son of the ill-fated Sir Everard Digby, he -was scarcely three years old when his father atoned on the scaffold -for his share in the gunpowder treason. Fortunately a portion of the -family estate was entailed, so Sir Kenelm, although the offspring of -attainted blood, succeeded to an ample revenue of about L3000 a-year. -In 1618 (when only in his fifteenth year) he entered Gloucester Hall, -now Worcester College, Oxford. In 1621 he commenced foreign travel. He -attended Charles I. (then Prince of Wales) at the Court of Madrid; and -returning to England in 1623, was knighted by James I. at -Hinchinbroke, the house of Lord Montague, on the 23rd of October in -that year. From that period he was before the world as courtier, cook, -lover, warrior, alchemist, political intriguer, and man of letters. He -became a gentleman of the bedchamber, and commissioner of the navy. In -1628 he obtained a naval command, and made his brilliant expedition -against the Venetians and Algerians, whose galleys he routed off -Scanderon. This achievement is celebrated by his client and friend, -Ben Jonson:-- - - "Though, happy Muse, thou know my Digby well, - Yet read in him these lines: he doth excel - In honour, courtesy, and all the parts - Court can call hero, or man could call his arts. - He's prudent, valiant, just, and temperate; - In him all virtue is beheld in state; - And he is built like some imperial room - For that to dwell in, and be still at home. - His breast is a brave palace, a broad street, - Where all heroic, ample thoughts do meet; - Where nature such a large survey hath ta'en, - As other souls, to his, dwelt in a lane: - Witness his action done at Scanderoon - Upon his birthday, the eleventh of June." - -Returning from war, he became once more the student, presenting in -1632 the library he had purchased of his friend Allen, to the Bodleian -Library, and devoting his powers to the mastery of controversial -divinity. Having in 1636 entered the Church of Rome, he resided for -some time abroad. Amongst his works at this period were his -"Conference with a Lady about the Choice of Religion," published in -1638, and his "Letters between Lord George Digby and Sir Kenelm Digby, -Knt., concerning Religion," not published till 1651. It is difficult -to say to which he was most devoted--his King, his Church, literature, -or his beautiful and frail wife, Venetia Stanley, whose charms -fascinated the many admirers on whom she distributed her favours, and -gained her Sir Kenelm for a husband when she was the discarded -mistress of Richard, Earl of Dorset. She had borne the Earl children, -so his Lordship on parting settled on her an annuity of L500 per -annum. After her marriage, this annuity not being punctually paid, Sir -Kenelm sued the Earl for it. Well might Mr. Lodge say, "By the -frailties of that lady much of the noblest blood of England was -dishonoured, for she was the daughter of Sir Edward Stanley, Knight -of the Bath, grandson of the great Edward, Earl of Derby, by Lucy, -daughter and co-heir of Thomas Percy, Earl of Northumberland." Such -was her unfair fame. "The _fair fame_ left to Posterity of that Truly -Noble Lady, the Lady Venetia Digby, late wife of Sir Kenelm Digby, -Knight, a Gentleman Absolute in all Numbers," is embalmed in the clear -verses of Jonson. Like Helen, she is preserved to us by the sacred -poet. - - "Draw first a cloud, all save her neck, - And out of that make day to break; - Till like her face it do appear, - And men may think all light rose there." - -In other and more passionate terms Sir Kenelm painted the same charms -in his "Private Memoirs." - -But if Sir Kenelm was a chivalric husband, he was not a less loyal -subject. How he avenged in France the honour of his King, on the body -of a French nobleman, may be learnt in a curious tract, "Sir Kenelme -Digby's Honour Maintained. By a most courageous combat which he fought -with Lord Mount le Ros, who by base and slanderous words reviled our -King. Also the true relation how he went to the King of France, who -kindly intreated him, and sent two hundred men to guard him so far as -Flanders. And now he is returned from Banishment, and to his eternall -honour lives in England." - -Sir Kenelm's "Observations upon Religio Medici," are properly -characterized by Coleridge as those of a pedant. They were written -whilst he was kept a prisoner, by order of the Parliament, in -Winchester House; and the author had the ludicrous folly to assert -that he both read the "Religio Medici" through for the first time, -and wrote his bulky criticism upon it, in less than twenty-four hours. -Of all the claims that have been advanced by authors for the -reputation of being rapid workmen, this is perhaps the most audacious. -For not only was the task one that at least would require a month, but -the impudent assertion that it was accomplished in less than a day and -night was contradicted by the title-page, in which "the observations" -are described as "occasionally written." Beckford's vanity induced him -to boast that "Vathek" was composed at one sitting of two days and -three nights; but this statement--outrageous falsehood though it -be--was sober truth compared with Sir Kenelm's brag. - -But of all Sir Kenelm's vagaries, his Sympathetic Powder was the -drollest. The composition, revealed after the Knight's death by his -chemist and steward, George Hartman, was effected in the following -manner:--English vitriol was dissolved in warm water; this solution -was filtered, and then evaporated till a thin scum appeared on the -surface. It was then left undisturbed and closely covered in a cool -place for two or three days, when fair, green, and large crystals were -evolved. "Spread these crystals," continues the chemist, "abroad in a -large flat earthen dish, and expose them to the heat of the sun in the -dog-days, turning them often, and the sun will calcine them white; -when you see them all white without, beat them grossly, and expose -them again to the sun, securing them from the rain; when they are well -calcined, powder them finely, and expose this powder again to the sun, -turning and stirring it often. Continue this until it be reduced to a -white powder, which put up in a glass, and tye it up close, and keep -it in a dry place." - -The virtues of this powder were unfolded by Sir Kenelm, in a French -oration delivered to "a solemn assembly of Nobles and Learned Men at -Montpellier, in France." It cured wounds in the following manner:--If -any piece of a wounded person's apparel, having on it the stain of -blood that had proceeded from the wound, was dipped in water holding -in solution some of this sympathetic powder, the wound of the injured -person would forthwith commence a healing process. It mattered not how -far distant the sufferer was from the scene of operation. Sir Kenelm -gravely related the case of his friend Mr. James Howel, the author of -the "Dendrologia," translated into French by Mons. Baudoin. Coming -accidentally on two of his friends whilst they were fighting a duel -with swords, Howel endeavoured to separate them by grasping hold of -their weapons. The result of this interference was to show the perils -that - - "Environ - The man who meddles with cold iron." - -His hands were severely cut, insomuch that some four or five days -afterwards, when he called on Sir Kenelm, with his wounds plastered -and bandaged up, he said his surgeons feared the supervention of -gangrene. At Sir Kenelm's request, he gave the knight a garter which -was stained with his blood. Sir Kenelm took it, and without saying -what he was about to do, dipped it in a solution of his powder of -vitriol. Instantly the sufferer started. - -"What ails you?" cried Sir Kenelm. - -"I know not what ails me," was the answer; "but I find that I feel no -more pain. Methinks that a pleasing kind of freshnesse, as it were a -cold napkin, did spread over my hand, which hath taken away the -inflammation that tormented me before." - -"Since that you feel," rejoined Sir Kenelm, "already so good an effect -of my medicament, I advise you to cast away all your plaisters. Only -keep the wound clean, and in moderate temper 'twixt heat and cold." - -Mr. Howel went away, sounding the praises of his physician; and the -Duke of Buckingham, hearing what had taken place, hastened to Sir -Kenelm's house to talk about it. The Duke and Knight dined together; -when, after dinner, the latter, to show his guest the wondrous power -of his powder, took the garter out of the solution, and dried it -before the fire. Scarcely was it dry, when Mr. Howel's servant ran in -to say that his master's hand was worse than ever--burning hot, as if -"it were betwixt coales of fire." The messenger was dismissed with the -assurance that ere he reached home his master would be comfortable -again. On the man retiring, Sir Kenelm put the garter back into the -solution--the result of which was instant relief to Mr. Howel. In six -days the wounds were entirely healed. This remarkable case occurred in -London, during the reign of James the First. "King James," says Sir -Kenelm, "required a punctuall information of what had passed touching -this cure; and, after it was done and perfected, his Majesty would -needs know of me how it was done--having drolled with me first (which -he could do with a very good grace) about a magician and sorcerer." On -the promise of inviolable secrecy, Sir Kenelm communicated the secret -to his Majesty; "whereupon his Majesty made sundry proofs, whence he -received singular satisfaction." - -The secret was also communicated by Sir Kenelm to Mayerne, through -whom it was imparted to the Duke of Mayerne--"a long time his friend -and protector." After the Duke's death, his surgeon communicated it to -divers people of quality; so that, ere long, every country-barber was -familiar with the discovery. The mention made of Mayerne in the -lecture is interesting, as it settles a point on which Dr. Aikin had -no information; viz.,--Whether Sir Theodore's Barony of Aubonne was -hereditary or acquired? Sir Kenelm says, "A little while after the -Doctor went to France, to see some fair territories that he had -purchased near Geneva, which was the Barony of Aubonne." - -For a time the Sympathetic Powder was very generally believed in; and -it doubtless did as much good as harm, by inducing people to throw -from their wounds the abominable messes of grease and irritants which -were then honoured with the name of plaisters. "What is this?" asked -Abernethy, when about to examine a patient with a pulsating tumour, -that was pretty clearly an aneurism. - -"Oh! that is a plaister," said the family doctor. - -"Pooh!" said Abernethy, taking it off, and pitching it aside. - -"That was all very well," said the physician, on describing the -occurrence; "but that 'pooh' took several guineas out of my pocket." - -Fashionable as the Sympathetic Powder was for several years, it fell -into complete disrepute in this country before the death of Sir -Kenelm. Hartman, the Knight's attached servant, could, of his own -experience, say nothing more for it than, when dissolved in water, it -was a useful astringent lotion in cases of bleeding from the nose; but -he mentions a certain "Mr. Smith, in the city of Augusta, in Germany, -who told me that he had a great respect for Sir D. K.'s books, and -that he made his sympatheticall powder every year, and did all his -chiefest cures with it in green wounds, with much greater ease to the -patient than if he had used ointments or plaisters." - -In 1643 Sir Kenelm Digby was released from the confinement to which he -had been subjected by the Parliament. The condition of his liberty was -that he forthwith retired to the Continent--having previously pledged -his word as a Christian and a gentleman, in no way to act or plot -against the Parliament. In France he became a celebrity of the highest -order. Returning to England with the Restoration, he resided in "the -last fair house westward in the north portico of Covent Garden," and -became the centre of literary and scientific society. He was appointed -a member of the council of the Royal Society, on the incorporation of -that learned body in the year 1663. His death occurred in his -sixty-second year, on the 11th of June, 1665; and his funeral took -place in Christ's Church, within Newgate, where, several years before, -he had raised a splendid tomb to the memory of the lovely and -abandoned Venetia. His epitaph, by the pen of R. Ferrar, is concise, -and not too eulogistic for a monumental inscription:-- - - "Under this tomb the matchless Digby lies-- - Digby the great, the valiant, and the wise; - This age's wonder for his noble parts, - Skill'd in six tongues, and learned in all the arts. - Born on the day he died--the Eleventh of June-- - And that day bravely fought at Scanderoon. - It's rare that one and the same day should be - His day of birth, and death, and victory." - -After his death, with the approval of his son, was published (1669), -"The Closet of the Eminently Learned Sir Kenelme Digbie, Kt., Opened: -Whereby is discovered Several ways for making of Metheglin, Sider, -Cherry-Wine, &c.; together with excellent Directions for Cookery: as -also for Preserving, Conserving, Candying, &c." The frontispiece of -this work is a portrait of Sir Kenelm, with a shelf over his head, -adorned with his five principal works, entitled, "Plants," "Sym. -Powder," "His Cookery," "Rects. in Physick, &c.," "Sr. K. Digby of -Bodyes." - -In Sir Kenelm's receipts for cookery the gastronome would find -something to amuse him, and more to arouse his horror. Minced pies are -made (as they still are amongst the homely of some counties) of -_meat_, raisins, and spices, mixed. Some of the sweet dishes very -closely resemble what are still served on English tables. The potages -are well enough. But the barley-puddings, pear-puddings, and oat-meal -puddings give ill promise to the ear. It is recommended to batter up a -couple of eggs and a lot of brown sugar in a cup of tea;--a not less -impious profanation of the sacred leaves than that committed by the -Highlanders, mentioned by Sir Walter Scott, who, ignorant of the -proper mode of treating a pound of fragrant Bohea, served it up -in--melted butter! - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -SIR HANS SLOANE. - - -The lives of three physicians--Sydenham, Sir Hans Sloane, and -Heberden--completely bridge over the uncertain period between old -empiricism and modern science. The son of a wealthy Dorsetshire -squire, Sydenham was born in 1624, and received the most important -part of his education in the University of Oxford, where he was -created Bachelor of Medicine 14th April, 1648. Settling in London -about 1661, he was admitted a Licentiate of the Royal College of -Physicians 25th June, 1665. Subsequently he acquired an M.D. degree at -Cambridge, but this step he did not take till 17th May, 1676. He also -studied physic at Montpellier; but it may be questioned if his -professional success was a consequence of his labours in any seat of -learning, so much as a result of that knowledge of the world which he -gained in the Civil war as a captain in the Parliamentary army. It was -he who replied to Sir Richard Blackmore's inquiry after the best -course of study for a medical student to pursue--"Read Don Quixote; it -is a very good book--I read it still." Medical critics have felt it -incumbent on themselves to explain away this memorable answer--attributing -it to the doctor's cynical temper rather than his scepticism with -regard to medicine. When, however, the state of medical science in the -seventeenth century is considered, one has not much difficulty in -believing that the shrewd physician meant exactly what he said. There -is no question but that as a practitioner he was a man of many doubts. -The author of the capital sketch of Sydenham in the "Lives of British -Physicians" says--"At the commencement of his professional life it is -handed down to us by tradition, that it was his ordinary custom, when -consulted by his patients for the first time, to hear attentively the -story of their complaints, and then say, 'Well, I will consider of -your case, and in a few days will order something for you.' But he -soon discovered that this deliberate method of proceeding was not -satisfactory, and that many of the persons so received forgot to come -again; and he was consequently obliged to adopt the usual practice of -prescribing immediately for the diseases of those who sought his -advice." A doctor who feels the need for such deliberation must labour -under considerable perplexity as to the proper treatment of his -patient. But the low opinion he expressed to Blackmore of books as -instructors in medicine, he gave publicly with greater decorum, but -almost as forcibly, in a dedication addressed to Dr. Mapletoft, where -he says, "The medical art could not be learned so well and so surely -as by use and experience; and that he who would pay the nicest and -most accurate attention to the symptoms of distempers would succeed -best in finding out the true means of cure." - -Sydenham died in his house, in Pall Mall, on the 29th of December, -1689. In his last years he was a martyr to gout, a malady fast -becoming one of the good things of the past. Dr. Forbes Winslow, in -his "Physic and Physicians"--gives a picture, at the same time painful -and laughable, of the doctor's sufferings. "Sydenham died of the gout; -and in the latter part of his life is described as visited with that -dreadful disorder, and sitting near an open window, on the ground -floor of his house, in St. James's Square, respiring the cool breeze -on a summer's evening, and reflecting, with a serene countenance and -great complacency, on the alleviation to human misery that his skill -in his art enabled him to give. Whilst this divine man was enjoying -one of these delicious reveries, a thief took away from the table, -near to which he was sitting, a silver tankard filled with his -favourite beverage, small beer, in which a sprig of rosemary had been -immersed, and ran off with it. Sydenham was too lame to ring his bell, -and too feeble in his voice to give the alarm." - -Heberden, the medical friend of Samuel Johnson, was born in London in -1710, and died on the 17th of May, 1801. Between Sydenham and Heberden -came Sir Hans Sloane, a man ever to be mentioned honourably amongst -those physicians who have contributed to the advancement of science, -and the amelioration of society. - -Pope says:-- - - "'Tis strange the miser should his cares employ, - To gain those riches he can ne'er enjoy; - Is it less strange the prodigal should waste - His wealth to purchase what he ne'er can taste? - Not for himself he sees, or hears, or eats, - Artists must chuse his pictures, music, meats; - He buys for Topham drawings and designs, - For Pembroke statues, dirty gods, and coins; - Rare monkish manuscripts, for Hearne alone, - And books for Mead, and butterflies for Sloane." - Pope's _Moral Essays_, Epistle IV. - -Hans Sloane (the seventh and youngest child of Alexander Sloane, -receiver-general of taxes for the county of Down, before and after the -Civil war, and a commissioner of array, after the restoration of -Charles II.) was born at Killileagh in 1660. An Irishman by birth, and -a Scotchman by descent, he exhibited in no ordinary degree the energy -and politeness of either of the sister countries. After a childhood of -extreme delicacy he came to England, and devoted himself to medical -study and scientific investigation. Having passed through a course of -careful labour in London, he visited Paris and Montpellier, and, -returning from the Continent, became the intimate friend of Sydenham. -On the 21st of January, 1685, he was elected a Fellow of the Royal -Society; and on the 12th of April, 1687, he became a Fellow of the -College of Physicians. In the September of the latter year he sailed -to the West Indies, in the character of physician to the Duke of -Albemarle, who had been appointed Governor of Jamaica. His residence -in that quarter of the globe was not of long duration. On the death of -his Grace the doctor attended the Duchess back to England, arriving -once more in London in the July of 1689. From that time he remained in -the capital--his professional career, his social position, and his -scientific reputation being alike brilliant. From 1694 to 1730, he was -a physician of Christ's Hospital. On the 30th of November, 1693, he -was elected Secretary of the Royal Society. In 1701 he was made an -M.D. of Oxford; and in 1705 he was elected into the fellowship of the -College of Physicians of Edinburgh. In 1708 he was chosen a Fellow of -the Royal Academy of Sciences of Paris. Four years later he was -elected a member of the Royal Society of Berlin. In 1719 he became -president of the College of Physicians; and in 1727 he was created -President of the Royal Society (on the death of Sir Isaac Newton), and -was appointed physician to King George II. In addition to these -honours, he won the distinction of being the first[6] medical -practitioner advanced to the dignity of a baronetcy. - - [6] The learned Librarian of the College of Physicians in a letter to - me, elicited by the first edition of "The Book About Doctors," - observes on this point: "Sir Hans Sloane is commonly stated to have - been the first medical baronet, but I think incorrectly. Sir Edmund - Greaves, M. D., a Fellow of the College, who died 11th Nov., 1680, is - said, and I am disposed to think with truth, to have been created a - Baronet at Oxford in 1645. Anthony A. Wood it is true calls him a - 'pretended baronet,' but he was acknowledged to be a true and - veritable one by his colleagues of our college, and considering the - jealousy of physicians, which is not quite so great by the way as you - seem to think, this is no small testimony in favour of my belief. In - the 5th edition of Guillim's Heraldry he is made to be the 450th - baronet from the first institution of the order, and is placed between - William de Borcel of Amsterdam and George Carteret of Jersey. If you - think the matter worthy of investigation you may turn to Nash's - Worcestershire, vol. i., p. 198." - -In 1742, Sir Hans Sloane quitted his professional residence at -Bloomsbury; and in the society of his library, museum, and a select -number of scientific friends, spent the last years of his life at -Chelsea, the manor of which parish he had purchased in 1722. - -In the _Gentleman's Magazine_ for 1748, there is a long but -interesting account of a visit paid by the Prince and Princess of -Wales to the Baronet's museum. Sir Hans received his royal guests and -entertained them with a banquet of curiosities, the tables being -cleverly shifted, so that a succession of "courses," under glass -cases, gave the charm of variety to the labours of observation. - -In his old age Sir Hans became sadly penurious, grudging even the -ordinary expenses of hospitality. His intimate friend, George Edwards, -F.R.S., gives, in his "Gleanings of Natural History," some particulars -of the old Baronet, which present a stronger picture of his parsimony -than can be found in the pages of his avowed detractors. - -"Sir Hans, in the decline of his life, left London and retired to his -manor-house, at Chelsea, where he resided about fourteen years before -he died. After his retirement at Chelsea, he requested it as a favour -to him (though I embraced it as an honour due to myself), that I would -visit him every week, in order to divert him for an hour or two with -the common news of the town, and with everything particular that -should happen amongst his acquaintance of the Royal Society, and other -ingenious gentlemen, many of whom I was weekly conversant with; and I -seldom missed drinking coffee with him on a Saturday, during the whole -time of his retirement at Chelsea. He was so infirm as to be wholly -confined to his house, except sometimes, though rarely, taking a -little air in his garden in a wheeled chair; and this confinement made -him very desirous to see any of his old acquaintance, to amuse him. He -was strictly careful that I should be at no expense in my journeys -from London to Chelsea to wait on him, knowing that I did not -superabound in the gifts of fortune. He would calculate what the -expense of coach-hire, waterage, or any other little charge that might -attend on my journeys backward and forward would amount to, and would -oblige me annually to accept of it, though I would willingly have -declined it." - -Such generosity speaks of a parsimonious temper and habit more -forcibly than positive acts of stinginess would. - -On the death of Sir Hans Sloane, on the 11th of January, 1753, his -museum and library passed into the hands of the nation for a -comparatively small sum of money, and became the nucleus of our -British Museum. - -The Royal Society of Sir Hans Sloane's time differed widely from the -Royal Society of the present day. The reader of Mr. Charles Weld's -history of that distinguished fraternity smiles a painful smile at the -feeble steps of its first members in the direction of natural science. -The efficacy of the divining rod, and the merits of Sir Kenelm Digby's -sympathetic powder, were the subjects that occupied the attention of -the philosophers of Charles II.'s reign. Entries such as the following -are the records of their proceedings:-- - -"_June 5._--Col. Tuke related the manner of the rain like corn at -Norwich, and Mr Boyle and Mr Evelyn were entreated to sow some of -those rained seeds to try their product. - -"Magneticall cures were then discoursed of. Sir Gilbert Talbot -promised to bring what he knew of sympathetical cures. Those that had -any powder of sympathy were desired to bring some of it at the next -meeting. - -"Mr Boyle related of a gentleman, who, having made some experiments of -the ayre, essayed the quicksilver experiment at the top and bottom of -a hill, when there was found three inches difference. - -"Dr Charleton promised to bring in that white powder, which, put into -water, heates that. - -"The Duke of Buckingham promised to cause charcoal to be distilled by -his chymist. - -"His Grace promised to bring into the society a piece of a unicorne's -horn. - -"Sir Kenelme Digby related that the calcined powder of toades -reverberated, applyed in bagges upon the stomach of a pestiferate -body, cures it by several applications." - -"_June 13._--Colonel Tuke brought in the history of rained seedes, -which were reported to have fallen downe from heaven in Warwickshire -and Shropshire, &c. - -"That the dyving engine be going forward with all speed, and the -treasurer to procure the lead and moneys. - -"Ordered, that Friday next the engine be tried at Deptford." - -"_June 26._--Dr Ent, Dr Clarke, Dr Goddard, and Dr Whistler, were -appointed curators of the proposition made by Sir G. Talbot, to -torment a man presently with the sympatheticall powder. - -"Sir G. Talbot brought in his experiments of the sympathetick cures." - -It is true that these passages relate to transactions of the Royal -Society that occurred long before Sir Hans was one of the body. But -even in his time the advances made towards greater enlightenment were -few and feeble, when compared with the strides of science during the -last century. So simple and childish were the operations and -speculations of the Society in the first half of the eighteenth -century, that even Sir John Hill was able to cover them with ridicule. - -Sir Hans had two medical successors in the presidentship of the Royal -Society--Sir John Pringle, Bart., elected Nov. 30, 1772, and William -Hyde Wollaston, M.D., elected June 29, 1820. The last-mentioned -physician had but a brief tenure of the dignity, for he retired from -the exalted post on Nov. 30, 1820, in favor of Sir Humphrey Davy, -Bart. - -Humphrey Davy (the son of the Penzance woodcarver, who was known to -his acquaintances as "Little Carver Davy") was the most acute natural -philosopher of his generation, and at the same time about the vainest -and most eccentric of his countrymen. With all his mental energy, he -was disfigured by a moral pettiness, which, to a certain extent, -justified Wordsworth's unaccustomed bitterness in "A Poet's -Epitaph":-- - - "Physician art thou? one all eyes; - Philosopher? a fingering slave, - One that would peep and botanize - Upon his mother's grave! - - "Wrapt closely in thy sensual fleece, - O turn aside--and take, I pray, - That he below may rest in peace, - Thy ever-dwindling soul away!" - -At the summit of his success, Davy was morbidly sensitive of the -humility of his extraction. That his father had been a respectable -mechanic--that his mother, on her husband's death, had established -herself as milliner in Penzance, in order to apprentice her son to an -apothecary in that town--that by his own intellects, in the hard -battle of life, he had raised himself from obscure poverty to a -brilliant eminence--were to him facts of shame, instead of pride. In -contradiction to this moral cowardice, there was in him, on some -points, an extravagant eccentricity, which, in most men, would have -pointed to imperviousness to ridicule. The demands of society, and the -labours of his laboratory, of course left him with but little leisure. -He, however, affected not to have time enough for the ordinary -decencies of the toilet. Cold ablutions neither his constitution nor -his philosophic temperament required, so he rarely washed himself. -And, on the plea of saving time, he used to put on his clean linen -over his dirty--so that he has been known to wear at the same time -five shirts and five pairs of stockings. On the rare occasions when he -divested himself of his superfluous integuments, he caused infinite -perplexity to his less intimate friends, who could not account for his -rapid transition from corpulence to tenuity. - -The ludicrousness of his costume did not end there. Like many other -men of powerful and excitable minds, he was very fond of angling; and -on the banks of the Thames he might be found, at all unsuitable -seasons, in a costume that must have been a source of no common -merriment to the river nymphs. His coat and breeches were of green -cloth. On his head he wore a hat that Dr. Paris describes as "having -been originally intended for a coal-heaver, but as having, when in its -raw state, been dyed green by some sort of pigment." In this attire -Davy flattered himself that he resembled vegetable life as closely as -it was possible for mortal to do. - -But if his angling dress was droll, his shooting costume was more so. -His great fear as an angler was that the fish should escape him; his -greatest anxiety as a bearer of a gun was to escape being shot. In the -one character, concealment was his chief object--in the other, -revelation. So that he might be seen from a distance, and run fewer -chances of being fired into by accident, he was accustomed on shooting -excursions, to crown himself with a broad-brimmed hat, covered with -scarlet. It never struck him that, in our Protestant England, he -incurred imminent peril of being mistaken for a cardinal, and knocked -over accordingly. - -Naturally, Davy was of a poetical temperament; and some of his boyish -poetry possesses merit that unquestionably justifies the anticipation -formed by his poet-friends of the flights his more mature muse would -take. But when his intellect became absorbed in the pursuits by which -he rendered inestimable service to his species, he never renewed the -bright imaginings of his day-spring. - -On passing (in 1809) through the galleries of the Louvre, he could -find nothing more worthy of admiration than the fine frames of the -pictures. "What an extraordinary collection of fine frames!" he -observed to the gentleman who acted as his guide, amidst the treasures -of art gathered from every part of the Continent. His attention was -directed to the "Transfiguration"; when, on its being suggested to him -that he was looking at a rather well-executed picture, he said, -coldly, "Indeed! I am glad I have seen it." In the same way, the -statues were to him simply blocks of material. In the Apollo -Belvidere, the Laocoon, and the Venus dei Medici, he saw no beauty; -but when his eyes rested on the Antinous, treated in the Egyptian -style, and sculptured in alabaster, he made an exclamation of delight, -and cried, "Gracious powers, what a beautiful stalactite!" - -More amusing than even these criticisms, is a story told of Lady Davy, -who accompanied her husband to Paris. She was walking in the Tuileries -garden, wearing the fashionable London bonnet of the day--shaped like -a cockle-shell. The Parisians, who just then were patronizing bonnets -of enormous dimensions, were astounded at the apparition of a -head-dress so opposed to their notions of the everlasting fitness of -things; and with the good breeding for which they are and have long -been proverbial, they surrounded the daring stranger, and stared at -her. This was sufficiently unpleasant to a timid English lady. But her -discomfort had only commenced. Ere another minute or two had elapsed, -one of the inspectors of the garden approached, and telling her -Ladyship that no cause of _rassemblement_ could be permitted in that -locality, requested her to retire. Alarmed and indignant, she appealed -to some officers of the Imperial Guard, but they could afford her no -assistance. One of them politely offered her his arm, and proposed to -conduct her to a carriage. But by the time she had decided to profit -by the courtesy, such a crowd had gathered together, that it was found -necessary to send for a guard of infantry, and remove _la belle -Anglaise_, surrounded with bayonets. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -THE APOTHECARIES AND SIR SAMUEL GARTH. - - -Baldwin Hamey, whose manuscript memoirs of eminent physicians are -among the treasures of the College, praises Winston because he treated -his apothecary as a master might a slave. "Heriliter imperavit," says -the Doctor. The learned Thomas Winston, anatomy lecturer at Gresham -College, lived to the age of eighty years, and died on the 24th of -October, 1655. He knew, therefore, apothecaries in the day of their -humility--before prosperity had encouraged them to compete with their -professional superiors. - -The apothecaries of the Elizabethan era compounded their medicines -much as medicines are compounded at the present--as far as -manipulation and measuring are concerned. Prescriptions have altered, -but shop-customs have undergone only a very slight change. The -apothecaries' table of weights and measures, still in use, was the -rule in the sixteenth century, and the symbols (for a pound, an ounce, -a drachm, a scruple, a grain, &c.) remain at this day just what they -were three hundred years ago. - -Our good friend, William Bulleyn, gave the following excellent rules -for an apothecary's life and conduct:-- - -"THE APOTICARYE. - -"1.--Must fyrst serve God, forsee the end, be clenly, pity the poore. - -"2.--Must not be suborned for money to hurt mankynde. - -"3.--His place of dwelling and shop to be clenly to please the sences -withal. - -"4.--His garden must be at hand with plenty of herbes, seedes, and -rootes. - -"5.--To sow, set, plant, gather, preserve and kepe them in due tyme. - -"6.--To read Dioscorides, to know ye natures of plants and herbes. - -"7.--To invent medicines to chose by coloure, tast, odour, figure, &c. - -"8.--To have his morters, stilles, pottes, filters, glasses, boxes, -cleane and sweete. - -"9.--To have charcoals at hand, to make decoctions, syrupes, &c. - -"10.--To kepe his cleane ware closse, and cast away the baggage. - -"11.--To have two places in his shop--one most cleane for the phisik, -and a baser place for the chirurgie stuff. - -"12.--That he neither increase nor diminish the physician's bill (_i. -e._ prescription), and kepe it for his own discharge. - -"13.--That he neither buy nor sel rotten drugges. - -"14.--That he peruse often his wares, that they corrupt not. - -"15.--That he put not in _quid pro quo_ (_i. e._, use one ingredient -in the place of another, when dispensing a physician's prescription) -without advysement. - -"16.--That he may open wel a vein for to helpe pleuresy. - -"17.--That he meddle only in his vocation. - -"18.--That he delyte to reede Nicolaus Myrepsus, Valerius Cordus, -Johannes Placaton, the Lubik, &c. - -"19.--That he do remember his office is only to be ye physician's -cooke. - -"20.--That he use true measure and waight. - -"21.--To remember his end, and the judgment of God: and thus I do -commend him to God, if he be not covetous, or crafty, seeking his own -lucre before other men's help, succour, and comfort." - -The apothecaries to whom these excellent directions were given were -only tradesmen--grocers who paid attention to the commands of -physicians. They were not required to have any knowledge of the -medical science, beyond what might be obtained by the perusal of two -or three writers; they were not to presume to administer drugs on -their own judgment and responsibility--or to perform any surgical -operation, except phlebotomy, and that only for one malady. The custom -was for the doctors to sell their most valuable remedies as nostrums, -keeping their composition a secret to themselves, and themselves -taking the price paid for them by the sick. The commoner drugs were -vended to patients by the drug-merchants (who invariably dealt in -groceries for culinary use, as well as in medicinal simples), acting -under the directions of the learned graduates of the Faculty. - -In the fourth year of James I., a charter was obtained, that "Willed, -ordained, and granted, that all and singular the Freemen of the -Mystery of Grocers and Apothecaries of the City of London ... should -and might be ... one body corporate and politique, in deed, fact, and -name, by the name of Warden and Commonalty of the Mystery of Grocers -of the City of London." But in the thirteenth year of the same king, -the apothecaries and grocers were disunited. At the advice of Theodore -de Mayerne and Henry Atkins, doctors in physick, another charter was -granted, constituting drug-venders a distinct company. Amongst the -apothecaries mentioned in this charter are the names of the most -respectable families of the country. Gideon de Laune, one of this -first batch of apothecaries, amassed a very large fortune in his -vocation, and founded a family at Sharsted, in Kent, from which -several persons of distinction draw part of their origin; and not a -few of De Laune's brethren were equally lucky. - -At their first foundation as a company the apothecaries were put -completely under control of the College of Physicians, who were -endowed with dangerous powers of inspecting their wares and punishing -their malpractices. But before a generation had passed away, the -apothecaries had gained such a firm footing in society that the more -prosperous of them could afford to laugh at the censures of the -College; and before the close of a century they were fawned upon by -young physicians, and were in a position to quarrel with the old. - -The doctors of that day knew so little that the apothecaries found it -easy to know as much. A knowledge of the herbals, an acquaintance with -the ingredients and doses of a hundred empirical compounds and -systems of maltreating eruptive fevers, gout, and consumption, -constituted all the medical learning of such men as Mayerne or -Gibbons. To pick up that amount of information was no hard task for an -ambitious apothecary. - -Soon the leading apothecaries began to prescribe on their own -responsibility, without the countenance of a member of the College. If -they were threatened with censure or other punishment by a regular -physician, they retorted by discontinuing to call him in to -consultations. Jealousies soon sprang up. Starving graduates, with the -diplomas of Oxford and Cambridge and the certificates of the College -in their pockets, were embittered by having to trudge the pavements of -London, and see the mean medicine-mixers (who had scarce scholarship -enough to construe a Latin bill) dashing by in their carriages. Ere -long the heartburnings broke out in a paper warfare, as rancorous and -disreputable as any squabble embalmed in literature. The scholars -called the rich tradesmen thieves, swindlers, and unlettered -blockheads. The rich tradesmen taunted the scholars with discontent, -falsehood, and ignorance of everything except Latin and Greek. - -Pope took the side of the physicians. Like Johnson, Parr, and all men -of enlightenment and sound scholarship, he had a high opinion of the -Faculty. It is indeed told of him, on questionable authority, that on -his death-bed, when he heard the bickerings of Dr. Burton and Dr. -Thompson, each accusing the other of maltreating his patient, he -levelled with his last breath an epigram at the two rivals-- - - "Dunces, rejoice, forgive all censures past-- - The greatest dunce has killed your foe at last." - -To Dr. Arbuthnot he wrote-- - - "Friend to my life, which did not you prolong, - The world had wanted many an idle song." - -His feeble health, making his life a long disease, never allowed him -vigour and confidence enough to display ingratitude to the Faculty, -and illustrate the truth of the lines-- - - "God and the doctor we alike adore, - But only when in danger, not before; - The danger o'er, both are alike requited, - God is forgotten, and the doctor slighted." - -His habitual tone, when speaking of the medical profession, was that -of warm admiration and affection. In the "Imitations of Horace" he -says-- - - "Weak though I am of limb, and short of sight, - Far from a lynx, and not a giant quite, - I'll do what Mead and Cheselden advise, - To keep these limbs, and to preserve these eyes." - -It is true that he elsewhere ridicules Mead's fondness for rare books -and Sloane's passion for butterflies; but at the close of his days he -wrote in a confidential letter to a friend of the Faculty, "They are -in general the most amiable companions and the best friends, as well -as the most learned men I know." - -In the protracted dissensions between the physicians and the -apothecaries Pope was a cordial supporter of the former. When he -accused, in the "Essay on Criticism," the penny-a-lining critics of -acquiring their slender knowledge of the poetic art from the poets -they assailed, he compared them to apothecaries whose scientific -information was pilfered from the prescriptions they were required to -dispense. - - "Then Criticism the Muse's handmaid proved, - To dress her charms and make her more beloved: - But following wits from that intention stray'd. - Who could not win the mistress, woo'd the maid; - Against the poets their own arms they turn'd, - Sure to hate most the men from whom they learn'd. - So modern 'Pothecaries, taught the art - By Doctors' bills to play the Doctor's part, - Bold in the practice of mistaken rules, - Prescribe, apply, and call their masters fools." - -The origin of the memorable Dispensarian Campaign between the College -of Physicians and the Company of Apothecaries is a story that can be -briefly told. The younger physicians, impatient at beholding the -prosperity and influence of the apothecaries, and the older ones -indignant at seeing a class of men they despised creeping into their -quarters and craftily laying hold of a portion of their monopoly, -concocted a scheme to reinstate themselves in public favour. Without a -doubt many of the physicians who countenanced this scheme gave it -their support from purely charitable motives; but it cannot be -questioned that as a body the dispensarians were actuated in their -humanitarian exertions by a desire to lower the apothecaries, and -raise themselves in the eyes of the world. With all its genuine and -sterling benevolence, the medical profession, by the unworthy and -silly conduct of its obscure members, has repeatedly laid itself open -to the charge of trading on its reputation for humanity. In Smollett's -time, as his novels show, the recognized mode employed by unknown -doctors to puff themselves into notoriety and practice, was to get up -little hospitals and infirmaries, and advertise to the charitable for -aid in the good task of ameliorating the condition of the poor. And -half the peddling little charitable institutions, infirmaries, -dispensaries, or hospitals, that at the present time rob the rich and -do harm to the poor in every quarter of London, originated in "the -friends" of young physicians and surgeons conspiring together to get -them "the position of being attached to an hospital staff." In 1687, -the physicians at a college-meeting, voted "that all members of the -College, whether Fellows, Candidates, or Licentiates, should give -their advice gratis to all their sick neighbouring poor, when desired, -within the city of London, or seven miles round." - -To give prescriptions to the very poor, unaccompanied with the means -of getting them dispensed, is of little use. Sir Astley Cooper used to -see in the vicinity of his residence the slips of paper, marked with -his pen, which it was his wont to distribute gratuitously to indigent -applicants. The fact was, the poor people, finding it beyond their -means to pay the druggist for dispensing them, threw them away in -disgust. It was just the same in 1687. The poor folk carried their -prescriptions to the apothecaries, to learn that the trade charge for -dispensing them was beyond their means. The physicians asserted that -the demands of the drug-venders were extortionate, and were not -reduced to meet the finances of the applicants, to the end that the -undertakings of benevolence might prove abortive. This was of course -absurd. The apothecaries knew their own interests better than so to -oppose a system which at least rendered drug-consuming fashionable -with the lower orders. Perhaps they regarded the poor as their -peculiar field of practice, and felt insulted at having the same -humble people--for whom they had pompously prescribed and put up -boluses at two-pence apiece--now entering their shops with papers -dictating what the two-penny bolus was to be composed of. But the -charge preferred against them was groundless. Indeed, a numerous body -of the apothecaries expressly offered to sell medicines "to the poor -within their respective parishes, at such rates as the committee of -physicians should think reasonable." - -But this would not suit the game of the physicians. "A proposal was -started by a committee of the College, that the College should furnish -the medicines of the poor, and perfect alone that charity which the -apothecaries refused to concur in; and after divers methods -ineffectually tried, and much time wasted in endeavouring to bring the -Apothecaries to terms of reason in relation to the poor, an instrument -was subscribed by divers charitably disposed members of the College, -now in number about fifty, wherein they obliged themselves to pay ten -pounds apiece towards the preparing and delivering medicines at their -intrinsic value." Such was the version of the affair given by the -College apologists. The plan was acted upon; and a dispensary was -eventually established (some nine years after the vote of 1687) in the -College of Physicians, Warwick Lane, where medicines were vended to -the poor at cost price. - -This measure of the College was impolitic and unjustifiable. It was -unjust to that important division of the trade who were ready to vend -the medicines at rates to be fixed by the College authorities--for it -took altogether out of their hands the small amount of profit which -they, as _dealers_, could have realized on those terms. It was also an -eminently unwise course. The College sank to the level of the -Apothecaries' Hall, becoming an emporium for the sale of medicines. -It was all very well to say that no profit was made on such sale--the -censorious world would not believe it. The apothecaries and their -friends denied that such was the fact, and avowed that the benevolent -dispensarians were bent only on underselling and ruining them. - -Again, the movement introduced dissension within the walls of the -College. Many of the first physicians, with the conservatism of -success, did not care to offend the apothecaries, who were continually -calling them in, and paying them fees. They therefore joined in the -cry against the dispensary. The profession was split up into -dispensarians and anti-dispensarians. The apothecaries combined and -agreed not to recommend the dispensarians. The anti-dispensarians -repaid this ill service by refusing to meet dispensarians in -consultation. Sir Thomas Millington, the president of the College, -Edward Hulse, Hans Sloane, John Woodward, Sir Edmund King, and Samuel -Garth were amongst the latter. Of them the last-named was the man who -rendered the most efficient service to his party. - -Garth is perhaps the most cherished by the present generation of all -the physicians of Pope's time. He was a Whig without rancour, and a -bon-vivant without selfishness. Full of jest and amiability, he did -more to create merriment at the Kit-Kat club than either Swift or -Arbuthnot. He loved wine to excess; but then wine loved him too, -ripening and warming his wit, and leaving no sluggish humour behind. -His practice was a good one, but his numerous patients prized his -_bon-mots_ more than his prescriptions. His enemies averred that he -was not only an epicure, but a profligate voluptuary and an infidel. -Pope, however, wrote of him after his death, "If ever there was a good -Christian, without knowing himself to be so, it was Dr. Garth." Pope -had honoured him when alive by dedicating his second pastoral to him. - - "Accept, O Garth, the muse's early lays, - That adds this wreath of ivy to thy bays; - Hear what from love unpractised hearts endure, - From love, the sole disease thou canst not cure." - -A good picture of Garth the politician is found in the "Journal to -Stella." "London, Nov. 17, 1711," writes Swift--"This is Queen -Elizabeth's birthday, usually kept in this town by apprentices, &c.; -but the Whigs designed a mighty procession by midnight, and had laid -out a thousand pounds to dress up the pope, devil, cardinals, -Sacheverel, &c., and carry them with torches about and burn them. They -did it by contribution. Garth gave five guineas; Dr. Garth I mean, if -ever you heard of him. But they were seized last night by order from -the Secretary.... The figures are now at the Secretary's Office at -Whitehall. I design to see them if I can." - -A Whig, but the friend of Tories, Garth cordially disliked Sir Richard -Blackmore, a member of his own profession and political party. -Blackmore was an anti-dispensarian, a bad poet, and a pure and rigid -moralist. Naturally Garth abominated him, and sneered at him for his -pomposity and bad scholarship. It is to be regretted that Garth, with -the vulgarity of the age, twitted him with his early poverty, and with -having been--a schoolmaster. To ridicule his enemy Garth composed the -following verses:-- - - "TO THE MERRY POETASTER, AT SADLER'S - HALL, IN CHEAPSIDE. - - "Unwieldy pedant, let thy awkward muse - With censures praise, with flatteries abuse; - To lash, and not be felt, in thee's an art, - That ne'er mad'st any but thy school-boys smart. - Then be advised and scribble not again-- - Thou'rt fashion'd for a flail and not a pen. - If B----l's immortal wit thou would'st decry, - Pretend 'tis he that wrote thy poetry. - Thy feeble satire ne'er can do him wrong-- - Thy poems and thy patients live not long." - -Garth's death, as described by William Ayre, was characteristic. He -was soon tired of an invalid's suffering and helplessness, the _ennui_ -and boredom of the sick-room afflicting him more than the bodily pain. -"Gentlemen," said he to the crowd of weeping friends who stood round -his bed, "I wish the ceremony of death was over." And so, sinking -lower in the bed, he died without a struggle. He had previously, on -being informed that his end was approaching, expressed pleasure at the -intelligence, because he was tired of having his shoes pulled off and -on. The manner of Garth's exit reminds one of the death of Rabelais, -also a physician. The presence of officious friends troubled him; and -when he saw his doctors consulting together, he raised his head from -his pillow and said with a smile, "Dear gentlemen, let me die a -natural death." After he had received extreme unction, a friend -approached him, and asked him how he did. "I am going on my journey," -was the answer--"they have greased my boots already." - -Garth has, apart from his literary productions, one great claim on -posterity. To him Dryden owed honourable interment. When the great -poet died, Garth caused his body to be conveyed to the College of -Physicians, and started a public subscription to defray the expenses -of the funeral. He pronounced an oration over the deceased at the -College in Warwick Lane, and then accompanied it to Westminster Abbey. - -Of the stories preserved of Garth's social humour some are exquisitely -droll. Writing a letter at a coffee-house, he found himself overlooked -by a curious Irishman, who was impudently reading every word of the -epistle. Garth took no notice of the impertinence, until he had -finished and signed the body of the letter, when he added a -postscript, of unquestionable legibility: "I would write you more by -this post, but there's a d---- tall impudent Irishman looking over my -shoulder all the time." - -"What do you mean, sir?" roared the Irishman in a fury. "Do you think -I looked over your letter?" - -"Sir," replied the physician, "I never once opened my lips to you." - -"Ay, but you have put it down, for all that." - -"'Tis impossible, sir, that you should know that, for you have never -once looked over my letter." - -Stumbling into a Presbyterian church one Sunday, for pastime, he found -a pathetic preacher shedding tears over the iniquity of the earth. - -"What makes the man greet?" asked Garth of a bystander. - -"By my faith," was the answer, "and you too would greet if you were in -his place and had as little to say." - -"Come along, my dear fellow," responded Garth to his new acquaintance, -"and dine with me. You are too good a fellow to be here." - -At the Kit-Kat he once stayed to drink long after he had said that he -must be off to see his patients. Sir Richard, more humane than the -physician, or possibly, like the rest of the world, not disinclined to -be virtuous at another's expense, observed, "Really, Garth, you ought -to have no more wine, but be off to see those poor devils." - -"It's no great matter," Garth replied, "whether I see them to-night or -not, for nine of them have such bad constitutions, that all the -physicians in the world can't save them; and the other six have such -good constitutions, that all the physicians in the world can't kill -them." - -Born of a respectable north-country family, Garth was educated first -at a provincial school, and then at Cambridge. He was admitted a -Fellow of the College of Physicians on June 26, 1692, just when the -quarrel of the Physicians and Apothecaries was waxing to its hottest, -_i. e._ between the College edict of 1687, ordaining gratuitous -advice, and the creation of the dispensary in 1696. As a young man he -saw that his right place was with the dispensarians--and he took it. -For a time his great poem, "The Dispensary," covered the apothecaries -and anti-dispensarians with ridicule. It rapidly passed through -numerous editions--in each of which, as was elegantly observed, the -world lost and gained much. To say that of all the books, pamphlets, -and broad-sheets thrown out by the combatants on both sides, it is by -far the one of the greatest merit, would be scant justice, when it -might almost be said that it is the only one of them that can now be -read by a gentleman without a sense of annoyance and disgust. There is -no point of view from which the medical profession appears in a more -humiliating and contemptible light than that which the literature of -this memorable squabble presents to the student. Charges of ignorance, -dishonesty, and extortion were preferred on both sides; and the -dispensarian physicians did not hesitate to taunt their brethren of -the opposite camp with playing corruptly into the hands of the -apothecaries--prescribing enormous and unnecessary quantities of -medicine, so that the drug-venders might make heavy bills, and, as a -consequence, recommend in all directions such complacent _superiors_ -to be called in. Garth's poem, unfair and violent though it is, seldom -offends against decency. As a work of art it cannot be ranked high, -and is now deservedly forgotten, although it has many good lines, and -some felicitous satire. Johnson rightly pointed to the secret of its -success, though he took a one-sided and unjust view of the dissensions -which called it forth. "The poem," observes the biographer, "as its -subject was present and popular, co-operated with passions and -prejudices then prevalent; and, with such auxiliaries to its intrinsic -merit, was universally and liberally applauded. It was on the side of -charity against the intrigues of interest, and of regular learning -against licentious usurpation of medical authority." - -Sir Samuel Garth (knighted by the sword of Marlborough) died January -18, 1718-19, and was buried at Harrow-on-the-Hill. - -But he lived to see the apothecaries gradually emancipate themselves -from the ignominious regulations to which they consented, when their -vocation was first separated from the grocery trade. Four years after -his death they obtained legal acknowledgment of their right to -dispense and sell medicines without the prescription of a physician; -and six years later the law again decided in their favour, with regard -to the physicians' right of examining and condemning their drugs. In -1721, Mr. Rose, an apothecary, on being prosecuted by the College for -prescribing as well as compounding medicines, carried the matter into -the House of Lords, and obtained a favourable decision. And from 1727, -in which year Mr. Goodwin, an apothecary, obtained in a court of law a -considerable sum for an illegal seizure of his wares (by Drs. -Arbuthnot, Bale, and Levit), the physicians may be said to have -discontinued to exercise their privileges of inspection. - -Arbuthnot did not exceed Garth in love to the apothecaries. His -contempt for, and dislike of, the fraternity, inspired him to write -his "Essay on an Apothecary." He thinks it a pity that, to prevent the -country from being overrun with apothecaries, it should not be allowed -to anatomize them, for the improvement of natural knowledge. He -ridicules them for pedantically "dressing all their discourse in the -language of the Faculty." - -"At meals," he says, "they distributed their wine with a little lymph, -dissected a widgeon, cohobated their pease-porridge, and amalgamated a -custard. A morsel of beef was a bolus; a grillard was sacrificed; -eating was mastication and deglutition; a dish of steaks was a -compound of many powerful ingredients; and a plate of soup was a very -exalted preparation. In dress, a suit of cloaths was a system, a -loophole a valve, and a surtout an integument. Cloth was a texture of -fibres spread into a drab or kersey; a small rent in it was cutaneous; -a thread was a filament; and the waistband of the breeches the -peritoneum." - -The superior branch of the Faculty invited in many ways the same -satire. Indeed, pedantry was the prevalent fault of the manners of the -eighteenth century. The physician, the divine, the lawyer, the -parliament-man, the country gentleman, the author by profession--all -had peculiarities of style, costume, speech, or intonation, by which -they were well pleased they should be recognised. In one respect, this -was well; men were proud of being what they were, and desired to be -known as belonging to their respective vocations. They had no anxiety -to be free from trade-marks. The barrister's smirk, the physician's -unctuous smiles, the pedagogue's frown, did not originate in a mean -desire to be taken for something of higher mark and esteem than they -really were. - -From the time when Bulleyn called him the physician's cook, down to -the present, generation, the pure apothecary is found holding a very -subordinate position. His business is to do unpleasant drudgery that a -gentleman finds it unpleasant to perform, but which cannot be left to -the hands of a nurse. The questions to be considered previous to -becoming an apprentice to an apothecary, put in Chemberlaine's -"Tyrocinium Medicum," well describe the state of the apothecary's -pupil. "Can you bear the thoughts of being obliged to get up out of -your warm bed, on a cold winter's night, or rather morning, to make up -medicines which your employer, just arrived through frost and snow, -prescribes for a patient taken suddenly or dangerously ill?--or, -supposing that your master is not in sufficient business to keep a -boy to take out medicines, can you make up your mind to think it no -hardship to take them to the patient after you have made them up?" -&c., &c. When such services were expected from pupils studying for -admittance to the craft, of course boys with ample means, or prospects -elsewhere, did not as a rule desire to become apothecaries. - -Within the last fifty years changes have been affected in various -departments of the medical profession, that have rendered the -apothecary a feature of the past, and transferred his old functions to -a new labourer. Prior to 1788, it is stated on authority there were -not in all London more than half-a-dozen druggists who dispensed -medicines from physicians' prescriptions. Before that time, the -apothecaries--the members of the Apothecaries' Company--were almost -the sole compounders and preparers of drugs. At the present time it is -exceptional for an apothecary to put up prescriptions, unless he is -acting as the family or ordinary medical attendant to the patient -prescribed for. As a young man, indeed, he sometimes condescends to -keep an open shop; but as soon as he can get on without "counter" -business, he leaves the commercial part of his occupation to the -druggist, as beneath his dignity. The dispensing chemists and -druggists, whose shops, flashing with blue bottles (last remnant of -empiric charlatanry), brighten our street corners and scare our horses -at night, are the apothecaries of the last century. The apothecary -himself--that is, the member of the Company--is hardly ever found as -an apothecary _pur et simple_. He enrolls himself at "the hall" for -the sake of being able to sue ungrateful patients for money due to -him. But in the great majority of cases he is also a Fellow or Member -of the College of Surgeons, and acts as a general practitioner; that -is, he does anything and everything--prescribes and dispenses his -prescriptions; is at the same time physician, surgeon, accoucheur, and -dentist. Physic and surgery were divided at a very early date in -theory, but in practice they were combined by eminent physicians till -a comparatively recent period. And yet later the physician performed -the functions of the apothecary, just as the apothecary presumed to -discharge the offices of physician. It was not derogatory to the -dignity of a leading physician, in the reign of Charles the Second, to -keep a shop, and advertise the wares vended in it, announcing in the -same manner their prices. Dr. Mead realized large sums by the sale of -worthless nostrums. And only a few years since, a distinguished -Cambridge physician, retaining as an octogenarian the popularity he -had achieved as a young man, in one of our eastern counties, used to -sell his "gout tincture"--a secret specific against gout--at so many -shillings per bottle. In many respects the general practitioner of -this century would consider his professional character compromised if -he adopted the customs generally in vogue amongst the physicians of -the last. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -QUACKS. - - "So then the subject being so variable, hath made the art by - consequence more conjectural; an art being conjectural hath - made so much the more place to be left for imposture. For - almost all other arts and sciences are judged by acts or - masterpieces, as I may term them, and not by the successes - and events. The lawyer is judged by the virtue of his - pleading, and not by the issue of the cause. The master of - the ship is judged by the directing his course aright, and - not by the fortune of the voyage. But the physician, and - perhaps the politician, hath no particular acts - demonstrative of his ability, but is judged most by the - event; which is ever but as it is taken: for who can tell, - if a patient die or recover, or if a state be preserved or - ruined, whether it be art or accident? and therefore many - times the impostor is prized, and the man of virtue taxed. - _Nay, we see the weakness and credulity of men is such, as - they will often prefer a mountebank or witch before a - learned physician._"--Lord Bacon's "_Advancement of - Learning_." - - -The history of quackery, if it were written on a scale that should -include the entire number of those frauds which may be generally -classed under the head of humbug, would be the history of the human -race in all ages and climes. Neither the benefactors nor the enemies -of mankind would escape mention; and a searching scrutiny would show -that dishonesty has played as important, though not as manifest, a -part in the operations of benevolence, as in the achievements of the -devil. But a more confined use of the word must satisfy us on the -present occasion. We are not about to enter on a philosophic inquiry -into the causes that contributed to the success of Mahomet and -Cromwell, but only to chronicle a few of the most humorous facts -connected with the predecessors of Dr. Townsend and Mr. Morrison. - -In the success that has in every century attended the rascally -enterprises of pretenders to the art of medicine, is found a touching -evidence of the sorrow, credulity, and ignorance of the generations -that have passed, or are passing, to the silent home where the pain -and joy, the simplicity and cunning, of this world are alike of -insignificance. The hope that to the last lurks in the breast of the -veriest wretch under heaven's canopy, whether his trials come from -broken health, or an empty pocket, or wronged affection, speaks aloud -in saddest tones, as one thinks of the multitudes who, worn with -bodily malady and spiritual dejection, ignorant of the source of their -sufferings, but thirsting for relief from them, have gone from -charlatan to charlatan, giving hoarded money in exchange for charms, -cramp-rings, warming-stones, elixirs, and trochees, warranted to cure -every ill that flesh is heir to. The scene, from another point of -view, is more droll, but scarcely less mournful. Look away for a few -seconds from the throng of miserable objects who press round the -empiric's stage; wipe out for a brief while the memory of their woes, -and regard the style and arts of the practitioner who, with a trunk -full of nostrums, bids disease to vanish, and death to retire from the -scenes of his triumph. There he stands--a lean, fantastic man, -voluble of tongue, empty-headed, full of loud words and menaces, -prating about kings and princes who have taken him by the hand and -kissed him in gratitude for his benefits showered upon them--dauntless, -greedy, and so steeped in falsehood that his crazy-tainted brain half -believes the lies that flow from his glib tongue. Are there no such -men amongst us now--not standing on carts at the street-corners, and -selling their wares to a dingy rabble, but having their seats of -exchange in honoured places, and vending their prescriptions to crowds -of wealthy clients? - -In the feudal ages medicine and quackery were the same, as far as any -principles of science are concerned. The only difference between the -physician and the charlatan was, that the former was a fool and the -latter a rogue. Men did not meddle much with the healing art. A few -clerks devoted themselves to it, and in the exercise of their -spiritual and medical functions discovered how to get two fleeces from -a sheep at one shearing; but the care of the sick was for the most -part left to the women, who then, as in every other period of the -world's history, prided themselves on their medical cunning, and, with -the exception of intrigue, preferred attending on the sick to any -other occupation. From the time of the Reformation, however, the -number of lady doctors rapidly diminished. The fair sex gradually -relinquished the ground they had so long occupied, to men, who, had -the monastic institutions continued to exist, would have assumed the -priestly garb and passed their days in sloth. Quackery was at length -fairly taken out of the hands of women and the shelter of domestic -life, and was practised, not for love, and in a superstitious belief -in its efficacy, but for money, and frequently with a perfect -knowledge of its worthlessness as a remedial system. - -As soon as the printing-press had become an institution of the -country, and there existed a considerable proportion of the community -capable of reading, the empirics seized hold of Caxton's invention, -and made it subservient to their honourable ends. The advertising -system was had recourse to in London, during the Stuart era, scarcely -less than it is now. Handbills were distributed in all directions by -half-starved wretches, whose withered forms and pallid cheeks were of -themselves a sufficient disproof of the assertions of their employers. - -The costume, language, style, and artifices of the pretenders to -physic in the seventeenth century were doubtless copied from models of -long standing, and differed little in essentials from those of their -predecessors. Professions retain their characteristics with singular -obstinacy. The doctor of Charles the Second's London transmitted all -his most salient features to the quack of the Regency. - -Cotgrave, in his "Treasury of "Wit and Language," published 1655, thus -paints the poor physician of his time:-- - - "My name is Pulsefeel, a poor Doctor of Physick, - That does wear three pile velvet in his hat, - Has paid a quarter's rent of his house before-hand, - And (simple as he stands here) was made doctor beyond sea. - I vow, as I am right worshipful, the taking - Of my degree cost me twelve French crowns, and - Thirty-five pounds of butter in Upper Germany. - I can make your beauty, and preserve it, - Rectifie your body and maintaine it, - Clarifie your blood, surfle your cheeks, perfume - Your skin, tinct your hair, enliven your eye, - Heighten your appetite; and as for Jellies, - Dentifrizes, Dyets, Minerals, Fricasses, - Pomatums, Fumes, Italia masks to sleep in, - Either to moisten or dry the superficies, Faugh! Galen - Was a goose, and Paracelsus a Patch, - To Doctor Pulsefeel." - -This picture would serve for the portrait of Dr. Pulsefeel in the -eighteenth and nineteenth, as well as the seventeenth century. How it -calls to mind the image of Oliver Goldsmith, when, with a smattering -of medical knowledge, a cane, and a dubious diploma, he tried to pick -out of the miseries and ignorance of his fellow-creatures the means of -keeping body and soul together! He too, poet and scholar though he -was, would have sold a pot of rouge to a faded beauty, or a bottle of -hair-dye, or a nostrum warranted to cure the bite of a mad dog. - -A more accurate picture, however, of the charlatan, is to be found in -"The Quack's Academy; or, The Dunce's Directory," published in 1678, -of which the following is a portion:-- - -"However, in the second place, to support this title, there are -several things very convenient: of which some are external -accoutrements, others internal qualifications. - -"Your outward requisites are a decent black suit, and (if your credit -will stretch so far in Long Lane) a plush jacket; not a pin the worse -though threadbare as a tailor's cloak--it shows the more reverend -antiquity. - -"Secondly, like Mercury, you must always carry a caduceus or conjuring -japan in your hand, capt with a civet-box; with which you must walk -with Spanish gravity, as in deep contemplation upon an arbitrament -between life and death. - -"Thirdly, a convenient lodging, not forgetting a hatch at the door; a -chamber hung with Dutch pictures, or looking-glasses, belittered with -empty bottles, gallipots, and vials filled with tapdroppings, or fair -water, coloured with saunders. Any sexton will furnish your window -with a skull, in hope of your custom; over which hang up the skeleton -of a monkey, to proclaim your skill in anatomy. - -"Fourthly, let your table be never without some old musty Greek or -Arabick author, and the 4th book of Cornelius Agrippa's 'Occult -Philosophy,' wide open to amuse spectators; with half-a-dozen of gilt -shillings, as so many guineas received that morning for fees. - -"Fifthly, fail not to oblige neighbouring ale-houses, to recommend you -to inquirers; and hold correspondence with all the nurses and midwives -near you, to applaud your skill at gossippings." - -The directions go on to advise loquacity and impudence, qualities -which quacks of all times and kinds have found most useful. But in -cases where the practitioner has an impediment in his speech, or -cannot by training render himself glib of utterance, he is advised to -persevere in a habit of mysterious silence, rendered impressive by -grave nods of the head. - -When Dr. Pulsefeel was tired of London, or felt a want of country air, -he concentrated his powers on the pleasant occupation of fleecing -rustic simplicity. For his journeys into the provinces he provided -himself with a stout and fast-trotting hack--stout, that it might bear -without fatigue weighty parcels of medicinal composition; and fleet of -foot, so that if an ungrateful rabble should commit the indecorum of -stoning their benefactor as an impostor (a mishap that would -occasionally occur), escape might be effected from the infatuated and -excited populace. In his circuit the doctor took in all the fairs, -markets, wakes, and public festivals; not, however, disdaining to stop -an entire week, or even month, at an assize town, where he found the -sick anxious to benefit by his wisdom. - -His plan of making acquaintance with a new place was to ride boldly -into the thickest crowd of a fair or market, with as much speed as he -could make without imperilling the lives of by-standers; and then, -when he had checked his steed, inform all who listened that he had -come straight from the Duke of Bohemia, or the most Serene Emperor of -Wallachia, out of a desire to do good to his fellow-creatures. He was -born in that very town,--yes, that very town in which he then was -speaking, and had left it when an orphan child of eight years of age, -to seek his fortune in the world. He had found his way to London, and -been crimped on board a vessel bound for Morocco, and so had been -carried off to foreign parts. His adventures had been wonderful. He -had visited the Sultan and the Great Mogul. There was not a part of -the Indies with which he was not familiar. If any one doubted him, let -his face be regarded, and his bronze complexion bear witness of the -scorching suns he had endured. He had cured hundreds--ay, -thousands--of emperors, kings, queens, princes, margravines, grand -duchesses, and generalissimos, of their diseases. He had a powder -which would stay the palsy, jaundice, hot fever, and cramps. It was -expensive; but that he couldn't help, for it was made of pearls, and -the dried leaves of violets brought from the very middle of Tartary; -still he could sell a packet of the medicine for a crown--a sum which -would just pay him back his outlaid money, and leave him no profit. -But he didn't want to make money of them. He was their fellow-townsman; -and in order to find them out and cure them he had refused offers of -wealth from the king of Mesopotamia, who wanted him to accept a -fortune of a thousand gold pieces a month, tarry with the -Mesopotamians, and keep them out of Death's clutches. Sometimes this -harangue was made from the back of a horse; sometimes from a rude -hustings, from which he was called _mountebank_. He sold all kinds of -medicaments: dyes for the hair, washes for the complexion, lotions to -keep young men youthful; rings which, when worn on the fore-finger of -the right hand, should make a chosen favourite desperately in love -with the wearer, and when worn on the same finger of the left hand, -should drive the said favourite to commit suicide. Nothing could -surpass the impudence of the fellow's lies, save the admiration with -which his credulous auditors swallowed his assertions. There they -stood,--stout yeomen, drunken squires, merry peasant girls, gawky -hinds, gabbling dames, deeming themselves in luck's way to have lived -to see such a miracle of learning. Possibly a young student home from -Oxford, with the rashness of inexperience, would smile scornfully, and -in a loud voice designate the pretender a quack--a quacksalvar -(kwabzalver), from the liniment he vended for the cure of wens. But -such an interruption, in ninety and nine cases out of every hundred, -was condemned by the orthodox friends of the young student, and he -was warned that he would come to no good if he went on as he had -begun--a contemptuous unbeliever, and a mocker of wise men. - -The author of the "Discourse de l'Origine des Moeurs, Fraudes, et -Impostures des Ciarlatans, avec leur Decouverte, Paris, 1662," says, -"Premierement, par ce mot de Ciarlatans, j'entens ceux que les -Italiens appellent Saltambaci, basteleurs, bouffons, vendeurs de -bagatelles, et generalement toute autre personne, laquelle en place -publique montee en banc, a terre, ou a cheval, vend medecines, baumes, -huilles ou poudres, composees pour guerir quelque infirmite, louant et -exaltant sa drogue, avec artifice, et mille faux sermens, en racontant -mille et mille merveilles. - - * * * * * - -"Mais c'est chose plaisante de voir l'artifice dont se servent ces -medecins de banc pour vendre leur drogue, quand avec mille faux -sermens ils affirment d'avoir appris leur secret du roi de Dannemarc, -au d'un prince de Transilvanie." - -The great quack of Charles the Second's London was Dr. Thomas Saffold. -This man (who was originally a weaver) professed to cure every disease -of the human body, and also to foretell the destinies of his patients. -Along Cheapside, Fleet-street, and the Strand, even down to the sacred -precincts of Whitehall and St. James's, he stationed bill-distributors, -who showered prose and poetry on the passers-by--just as the agents -(possibly the poets) of the Messrs. Moses cast their literature on the -town of Queen Victoria. When this great benefactor of his species -departed this life, on May the 12th, 1691, a satirical broadsheet -called on the world to mourn for the loss of one-- - - "So skilled in drugs and verse, 'twas hard to show it, - Whether was best, the doctor or the poet." - -The ode continues:-- - - "Lament, ye damsels of our London city, - (Poor unprovided girls) tho' fair and witty, - Who, maskt, would to his house in couples come, - To understand your matrimonial doom; - To know what kind of men you were to marry, - And how long time, poor things, you were to tarry; - Your oracle is silent, none can tell - On whom his astrologick mantle fell: - For he when sick refused all doctors' aid, - And only to his pills devotion paid! - Yet it was surely a most sad disaster, - The saucy pills at last should kill their master." - - EPITAPH. - - "Here lies the corpse of Thomas Saffold, - By death, in spite of physick, baffled; - Who, leaving off his working loom, - Did learned doctor soon become. - To poetry he made pretence, - Too plain to any man's own sense; - But he when living thought it sin - To hide his talent in napkin; - Now death does doctor (poet) crowd - Within the limits of a shroud." - -The vocation of fortune-teller was exercised not only by the quacks, -but also by the apothecaries, of that period. Garth had ample -foundation, in fact, for his satirical sketch of Horoscope's shop in -the second canto of "The Dispensary." - - "Long has he been of that amphibious fry, - Bold to prescribe and busie to apply; - His shop the gazing vulgars' eyes employs, - With foreign trinkets and domestick toys. - Here mummies lay most reverendly stale, - And there the tortoise hung her coat of mail. - Not far from some huge shark's devouring head - The flying fish their finny pinions spread; - Aloft in rows large poppy-heads were strung, - And near a scaly alligator hung; - In this place, drugs in musty heaps decay'd, - In that, dry'd bladders and drawn teeth were laid. - - "An inner room receives the num'rous shoals - Of such as pay to be reputed fools; - Globes stand by globes, volumes by volumes lye, - And planetary schemes amuse the eye. - The sage, in velvet chair, here lolls at ease, - To promise future health for present fees. - Then, as from Tripod, solemn shams reveals, - And what the stars know nothing of reveals. - - "One asks how soon Panthea may be won, - And longs to feel the marriage fetters on; - Others, convinced by melancholy proof, - Enquire when courteous fates will strike them off; - Some by what means they may redress the wrong, - When fathers the possession keep too long; - And some would know the issue of their cause, - And whether gold can solder up its flaws. - . . . . . - "Whilst Iris his cosmetick wash would try, - To make her bloom revive, and lovers die; - Some ask for charms, and others philters choose, - To gain Corinna, and their quartans lose." - -Queen Anne's weak eyes caused her to pass from one empiric to another, -for the relief they all promised to give, and in some cases even -persuaded that they gave her. She had a passion for quack oculists; -and happy was the advertising scoundrel who gained her Majesty's -favour with a new collyrium. For, of course, if the greatest personage -in the land said that Professor Bungalo was a wonderful man, a master -of his art, and inspired by God to heal the sick, there was no appeal -from so eminent an authority. How should an elderly lady with a crown -on her head be mistaken? Do we not hear the same arguments every day -in our own enlightened generation, when the new Chiropodist, or -Rubber, or inventor of a specific for consumption, points to the -social distinctions of his dupes as conclusive evidence that he is -neither supported by vulgar ignorance, nor afraid to meet the most -searching scrutiny of the educated? Good Queen Anne was so charmed -with two of the many knaves who by turns enjoyed her countenance, that -she had them sworn in as her own oculists in ordinary; and one of them -she was even so silly as to knight. This lucky gentleman was William -Reade, originally a botching tailor, and to the last a very ignorant -man, as his "Short and Exact Account of all Diseases Incident to the -Eyes" attests; yet he rose to the honour of knighthood, and the most -lucrative and fashionable physician's practice of his period. Surely -every dog has his day. Lazarus never should despair; a turn of fortune -may one fine day pick him from the rags which cover his nakedness in -the kennel, and put him to feast amongst princes, arrayed in purple -and fine linen, and regarded as an oracle of wisdom. It was true that -Sir William Reade was unable to read the book which he had written (by -the hand of an amanuensis), but I have no doubt that many worthy -people who listened to his sonorous voice, beheld his lace ruffles and -gold-headed cane, and saw his coach drawn along to St. James's by -superb horses, thought him in every respect equal, or even superior, -to Pope and Swift. - -When Sir William was knighted he hired a poet, who lived in Grub -Street, to announce the fact to posterity and "the town," in -decasyllabic verse. The production of this bard, "The Oculist, a -Poem," was published in the year 1705, and has already (thanks to the -British Museum, which like the nets of fishermen receiveth of "all -sorts") endowed with a century and a half of posthumous renown; and -no one can deny that so much fame is due, both to the man who bought, -and the scribbler who sold the following strain:-- - - "Whilst Britain's Sovereign scales such worth has weighed, - And Anne herself her smiling favours paid, - That sacred hand does your fair chaplet twist, - Great Reade her own entitled Oculist, - With this fair mark of honour, sir, assume - No common trophies from this shining plume; - Her favours by desert are only shared-- - Her smiles are not her gift, but her reward. - Thus in your new fair plumes of Honour drest, - To hail the Royal Foundress of the feast; - When the great Anne's warm smiles this favourite raise, - 'Tis not a royal grace she gives, but pays." - -Queen Anne's other "sworn oculist," as he and Reade termed themselves, -was Roger Grant, a cobbler and Anabaptist preacher. He was a -prodigiously vain man, even for a quack, and had his likeness engraved -in copper. Impressions of the plate were distributed amongst his -friends, but were not in all cases treated with much respect; for one -of those who had been complimented with a present of the eminent -oculist's portrait, fixed it on a wall of his house, having first -adorned it with the following lines:-- - - "See here a picture of a brazen face, - The fittest lumber of this wretched place. - A tinker first his scene of life began; - That failing, he set up for cunning man; - But wanting luck, puts on a new disguise, - And now pretends that he can mend your eyes; - But this expect, that, like a tinker true, - Where he repairs one eye he puts out two." - -The charge of his being a tinker was preferred against him also by -another lampoon writer. "In his stead up popped Roger Grant, the -tinker, of whom a friend of mine once sung.-- - - "'Her Majesty sure was in a surprise, - Or else was very short-sighted; - When a tinker was sworn to look after her eyes, - And the mountebank Reade was knighted.'" - -This man, according to the custom of his class, was in the habit of -publishing circumstantial and minute accounts of his cures. Of course -his statements were a tissue of untruths, with just the faintest -possible admixture of what was not altogether false. His plan was to -get hold of some poor person of imperfect vision, and, after treating -him with medicines and half-crowns for six weeks, induce him to sign a -testimonial to the effect that he had been born stone-blind, and had -never enjoyed any visual power whatever, till Providence led him to -good Dr. Grant, who had cured him in little more than a month. This -certificate the clergyman and churchwardens of the parish, in which -the patient had been known to wander about the streets in mendicancy, -were asked to attest; and if they proved impregnable to the cunning -representations of the importunate suitors, and declined to give the -evidence of their handwriting, either on the ground that they had -reason to question the fact of the original blindness, or because they -were not thoroughly acquainted with the particulars of the case, Dr. -Grant did not scruple to sign their names himself, or by the hands of -his agents. The _modus operandi_ with which he carried out these -frauds may be learned by the curious in a pamphlet, published in the -year 1709, and entitled "A Full and True Account of a Miraculous Cure -of a Young Man in Newington that was Born Blind." - -But the last century was rife with medical quacks. The Rev. John -Hancocke, D.D., Rector of St. Margaret's, Lothbury, London, -Prebendary of Canterbury, and chaplain to the Duke of Bedford, -preached up the water-cure, which Pliny the naturalist described as -being in his day the fashionable remedy in Rome. He published a work -in 1723 that immediately became popular, called "Febrifugum Magnum; -or, Common Water the best Cure for Fevers, and probably for the -Plague." - -The good man deemed himself a genius of the highest order, because he -had discovered that a draught of cold water, under certain -circumstances, is a powerful diaphoretic. His pharmacopeia, however, -contained another remedy--namely, stewed prunes, which the Doctor -regarded as a specific in obstinate cases of blood-spitting. Then -there was Ward, with his famous pill, whose praises that learned man, -Lord Chief Baron Reynolds, sounded in every direction. There was also -a tar-water mania, which mastered the clear intellect of Henry -Fielding, and had as its principal advocate the supreme intellect of -the age, Bishop Berkeley. In volume eighteen of the _Gentleman's -Magazine_ is a list of the quack-doctors then practising; and the -number of those named in it is almost as numerous as the nostrums, -which mount up to 202. These accommodating fellows were ready to -fleece every rank of society. The fashionable impostor sold his -specific sometimes at the rate of 2_s._ 6_d._ a pill, while the -humbler knave vended his boluses at 6_d._ a box. To account for -society tolerating, and yet more, warmly encouraging such a state of -things, we must remember the force of the example set by eminent -physicians in vending medicines the composition of which they kept -secret. Sir Hans Sloane sold an eye-salve; and Dr. Mead had a -favourite nostrum--a powder for the bite of a mad dog. - -The close of the seventeenth century was not in respect of its quacks -behind the few preceding generations. In 1789 Mr. and Mrs. -Loutherbourg became notorious for curing people without medicine. God, -they proclaimed, had endowed them with a miraculous power of healing -the impoverished sick, by looking upon them and touching them. Of -course every one who presumed to doubt the statement was regarded as -calling in question the miracles of holy writ, and was exclaimed -against as an infidel. The doctor's house was besieged with enormous -crowds. The good man and his lady refused to take any fee whatever, -and issued gratuitous tickets amongst the mob, which would admit the -bearers into the Loutherbourgian presence. Strange to say, however, -these tickets found their way into the hands of venal people, who sold -them to others in the crowd (who were tired of waiting) for sums -varying from two to five guineas each; and ere long it was discovered -that these barterers of the healing power were accomplices in the pay -of the poor man's friend. A certain Miss Mary Pratt, in all -probability a puppet acting in obedience to Loutherbourg's -instructions, wrote an account of the cures performed by the physician -and his wife. In a dedicatory letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury, -Miss Pratt says:--"I therefore presume when these testimonies are -searched into (which will corroborate with mine) your Lordship will -compose a form of prayer, to be used in all churches and chapels, that -nothing may impede or prevent this inestimable gift from having its -free course; and publick thanks may be offered up in all churches and -chapels, for such an astonishing proof of God's love to this favoured -land." The publication frankly states that "Mr. De Loutherbourg, who -lives on Hammersmith Green, has received a most glorious power from -the Lord Jehovah--viz. the gift of healing all manner of diseases -incident to the human body, such as blindness, deafness, lameness, -cancers, loss of speech, palsies." But the statements of "cases" are -yet more droll. The reader will enjoy the perusal of a few of them. - -"_Case of Thomas Robinson._--Thomas Robinson was sent home to his -parents at the sign of the Ram, a public-house in Cow Cross, so ill -with what is called the king's evil, that they applied for leave to -bring him into St Bartholomew's Hospital." (Of course he was -discharged as "incurable," and was eventually restored to health by -Mr. Loutherbourg.) "But how," continues Miss Pratt, "shall my pen -paint ingratitude? The mother had procured a ticket for him from the -Finsbury Dispensary, and with a shameful reluctance denied having seen -Mr De Loutherbourg, waited on the kind gentleman belonging to the -dispensary, and, _amazing_! thanked them for relief which they had no -hand in; for she told me and fifty more, she took the drugs and -medicines and threw them away, reserving the phials, &c. Such an -imposition on the public ought to be detected, as she deprived other -poor people of those medicines which might have been useful; not only -so--robbed the Lord of Life of the glory due to him only, by returning -thanks at the dispensary for a cure which they had never performed. -The lad is now under Mr De Loutherbourg's care, who administered to -him before me yesterday in the public healing-room, amongst a large -concourse of people, amongst whom was some of the first families in -the kingdom." - -"_Case.--Mary Ann Hughes._--Her father is chairman to her Grace the -Duchess of Rutland, who lives at No. 37, in Ogle Street. She had a -most violent fever, _fell into her knee_, went to Middlesex Hospital, -where they made every experiment in order to cure her--but in vain; -she came home worse than she went in, her leg contracted and useless. -In this deplorable state she waited on Mrs De Loutherbourg, who, with -infinite condescension, saw her, administered to her, and the second -time of waiting on Mrs De Loutherbourg she was perfectly cured." - -"_Case.--Mrs Hook._--Mrs Hook, Stableyard, St James's, has two -daughters born deaf and dumb. She waited on the lady above-mentioned, -_who looked on them with an eye of benignity, and healed them_. (I -heard them both speak.)" - -Mary Pratt, after enumerating several cases like the foregoing, -concludes thus: - -"Let me repeat, with horror and detestation, the wickedness of those -who have procured tickets of admission, and sold them for five and two -guineas apiece!--whereas this gift was chiefly intended for the poor. -Therefore Mr De Loutherbourg has retired from the practice into the -country (for the present), having suffered all the indignities and -contumely that man could suffer, joined to ungrateful behaviour, and -tumultuous proceedings. I have heard people curse him and threaten his -life, instead of returning him thanks; and it is my humble wish that -prayers may be put up in all churches for his great gifts to -multiply." - - "FINIS. - -"Report says three thousand persons have waited for tickets at a -time." - -Forming a portion of this interesting work by Miss Pratt is a -description of a case which throws the Loutherbourgian miracles into -the shade, and is apparently cited only for the insight it affords -into the state of public feeling in Queen Anne's time, as contrasted -with the sceptical enlightenment of George III.'s reign:-- - -"I hope the public will allow me to adduce a case which history will -evince the truth of. A girl, whose father and mother were French -refugees, had her hip dislocated from her birth. She was apprentice to -a milliner, and obliged to go out about the mistress's business; the -boys used to insult her for her lameness continually, as she limped -very much.... Providence directed her to read one of the miracles -performed by our blessed Saviour concerning the withered arm. The girl -exclaimed, 'Oh, madam, was Jesus here on earth he would cure me.' Her -mistress answered, 'If you have faith, his power is the same now.' She -immediately cried, 'I have faith!' and the bone flew into its place -with a report like the noise of a pistol. The girl's joy was ecstatic. -She jumped about the room in raptures. The servant was called, sent -for her parents, and the minister under whom she sat. They spent the -night praising God. Hundreds came to see her, amongst whom was the -Bishop of London, by the command of her Majesty Queen Anne (for in -those days people were astonished at this great miracle.)" - -Dr. Loutherbourg was not the first quack to fleece the good people of -Hammersmith. In the 572nd paper of the _Spectator_, dated July 26, -1714, there is a good story of a consummate artist, who surrounded -himself with an enormous crowd, and assured them that Hammersmith was -the place of his nativity; and that, out of strong natural affection -for his birth-place, he was willing to give each of its inhabitants a -present of five shillings. After this exordium, the benevolent fellow -produced from his cases an immense number of packets of a powder -warranted to cure everything and kill nothing. The price of each -packet was properly five shillings and sixpence; but out of love for -the people of Hammersmith the good doctor offered to let any of his -audience buy them at the rate of sixpence apiece. The multitude -availed themselves of this proposition to such an extent that it is to -be feared the friend of Hammersmith's humanity suffered greatly from -his liberality. - -Steele has transmitted to us some capital anecdotes of the empirics of -his day. One doctor of Sir Richard's acquaintance resided in Moore -Alley, near Wapping, and proclaimed his ability to cure cataracts, -_because he had lost an eye in the emperor's service_. To his patients -he was in the habit of displaying, as a conclusive proof of his -surgical prowess, a muster-roll showing that either he, or a man of -his name, had been in one of his imperial Majesty's regiments. At the -sight of this document of course mistrust fled. Another man professed -to treat ruptured children, because his father and grandfather were -born bursten. But more humorous even than either of these gentlemen -was another friend of Sir Richard's, who announced to the public that -"from eight to twelve and from two till six, he attended for the good -of the public to bleed for threepence." - -The fortunes which pretenders to the healing art have amassed would -justify a belief that empiricism, under favourable circumstances, is -the best trade to be found in the entire list of industrial -occupations. Quacks have in all ages found staunch supporters amongst -the powerful and affluent. Dr. Myersbach, whom Lettsom endeavoured to -drive back into obscurity, continued, long after the publication of -the "Observations," to make a large income out of the credulity of the -fashionable classes of English society. Without learning of any kind, -this man raised himself to opulence. His degree was bought at Erfurth -for a few shillings, just before that university raised the prices of -its academical distinctions, in consequence of the pleasant raillery -of a young Englishman, who paid the fees for a Doctor's diploma, and -had it duly recorded in the Collegiate archives as having been -presented to Anglicus Ponto; Ponto being no other than his mastiff -dog. With such a degree Myersbach set up for a philosopher. Patients -crowded to his consulting-room, and those who were unable to come sent -their servants with descriptions of their cases. But his success was -less than that of the inventor of Ailhaud's powders, which ran their -devastating course through every country in Europe, sending to the -silence of the grave almost as many thousands as were destroyed in all -Napoleon's campaigns. Tissot, in his "Avis au Peuple," published in -1803, attacked Ailhaud with characteristic vehemence, and put an end -to his destructive power; but ere this took place the charlatan had -mounted on his slaughtered myriads to the possession of three -baronies, and was figuring in European courts as the Baron de -Castelet. - -The tricks which these practitioners have had recourse to for the -attainment of their ends are various. Dr. Katterfelto, who rose into -eminence upon the evil wind that brought the influenza to England in -the year 1782, always travelled about the country in a large caravan, -containing a number of black cats. This gentleman's triumphant -campaign was brought to a disastrous termination by the mayor of -Shrewsbury, who gave him a taste of the sharp discipline provided at -that time by the law for rogues and vagabonds.--"The Wise Man of -Liverpool," whose destiny it was to gull the canny inhabitants of the -North of England, used to traverse the country in a chariot drawn by -six horses, attended by a perfect army of outriders in brilliant -liveries, and affecting all the pomp of a prince of the royal blood. - -The quacks who merit severe punishment the least of all their order -are those who, while they profess to exercise a powerful influence -over the bodies of their patients, leave nature to pursue her -operations pretty much in her own way. Of this comparatively harmless -class was Atwell, the parson of St. Tue, who, according to the account -given of him by Fuller, in his English Worthies, "although he now and -then used blood-letting, mostly for all diseases prescribed milk, and -often milk and apples, which (although contrary to the judgments of -the best-esteemed practitioners) either by virtue of the medicine, or -fortune of the physician, or fancy of the patient, recovered many out -of desperate extremities." Atwell won his reputation by acting on the -same principle that has brought a certain degree of popularity to the -homoeopathists--that, namely, of letting things run their own -course. The higher order of empirics have always availed themselves of -the wonderful faculty possessed by nature of taking good care of -herself. Simple people who enlarge on the series of miraculous cures -performed by their pet charlatan, and find in them proofs of his -honesty and professional worth, do not reflect that in ninety-and-nine -cases out of every hundred where a sick person is restored to health, -the result is achieved by nature rather than art, and would have been -arrived at as speedily without as with medicine. Again, the fame of an -ordinary medical practitioner is never backed up by simple and -compound addition. His cures and half cures are never summed up to -magnificent total by his employers, and then flaunted about on a -bright banner before the eyes of the electors. 'Tis a mere matter of -course that _he_ (although he _is_ quite wrong, and knows not half as -much about his art as any great lady who has tested the efficacy of -the new system on her sick poodle) should cure people. 'Tis only the -cause of globules which is to be supported by documentary evidence, -containing the case of every young lady who has lost a severe headache -under the benign influence of an infinitesimal dose of flour and -water. - -Dumoulin, the physician, observed at his death that "he left behind -him two great physicians, Regimen and River Water." A due appreciation -of the truth embodied in this remark, coupled with that masterly -assurance, without which the human family is not to be fleeced, -enabled the French quack, Villars, to do good to others and to himself -at the same time. This man, in 1723, confided to his friends that his -uncle, who had recently been killed by an accident at the advanced age -of one hundred years, had bequeathed to him the recipe for a nostrum -which would prolong the life of any one who used it to a hundred and -fifty, provided only that the rules of sobriety were never -transgressed. Whenever a funeral passed him in the street he said -aloud, "Ah! if that unfortunate creature had taken my nostrum, he -might be carrying that coffin, instead of being carried in it." This -nostrum was composed of nitre and Seine water, and was sold at the -ridiculously cheap rate of five francs a bottle. Those who bought it -were directed to drink it at certain stated periods, and also to lead -regular lives, to eat moderately, drink temperately, take plenty of -bodily exercise, go to and rise from bed early, and to avoid mental -anxiety. In an enormous majority of cases the patient was either cured -or benefitted. Some possibly died, who, by the ministrations of -science, might have been preserved from the grave. But in these cases, -and doubtless they were few, the blunder was set down to Nature, who, -somewhat unjustly, was never credited with any of the recoveries. The -world was charitable, and the doctor could say-- - - "The grave my faults does hide, - The world my cures does see; - What youth and time provide, - Are oft ascribed to me." - -Anyhow Villars succeeded, and won the approbation not only of his -dupes, but of those also who were sagacious enough to see the nature -of his trick. The Abbe Pons declared him to be the superior of the -marshal of the same name. "The latter," said he, "kills men--the -former prolongs their existence." At length Villars' secret leaked -out; and his patients, unwise in coming to him, unwisely deserted him. -His occupation was gone. - -The displeasure of Villars' dupes, on the discovery of the benevolent -hoax played upon them, reminds us of a good story. Some years since, -at a fashionable watering-place, on the south-east coast of England, -resided a young surgeon--handsome, well-bred, and of most pleasant -address. He was fast rising into public favour and a good practice, -when an eccentric and wealthy maiden lady, far advanced in years, sent -for him. The summons of course was promptly obeyed, and the young -practitioner was soon listening to a most terrible story of suffering. -The afflicted lady, according to her own account, had a year before, -during the performance of her toilet, accidentally taken into her -throat one of the bristles of her tooth-brush. This bristle had stuck -in the top of the gullet, and set up an irritation which, she was -convinced, was killing her. She had been from one surgeon of eminence -to another, and everywhere in London and in the country the Faculty -had assured her that she was only the victim of a nervous -delusion--that her throat was in a perfectly healthy condition--that -the disturbance existed only in her own imagination. "And so they go -on, the stupid, obstinate, perverse, unfeeling creatures," concluded -the poor lady, "saying there is nothing the matter with me, while I -am--dying--dying--dying!" "Allow me, my dear lady," said the adroit -surgeon in reply, "to inspect for myself--carefully--the state of -your throat." The inspection was made gravely, and at much length. "My -dear Miss ----," resumed the surgeon, when he had concluded his -examination, "you are quite right, and Sir Benjamin Brodie and Sir -James Clark are wrong. I can see the head of the bristle low down, -almost out of sight; and if you'll let me run home for my instruments, -I'll forthwith extract it for you." The adroit man retired, and in a -few minutes re-entered the room, armed with a very delicate pair of -forceps, into the teeth of which he had inserted a bristle taken from -an ordinary tooth-brush. The rest can be imagined. The lady threw back -her head; the forceps were introduced into her mouth; a prick--a -scream! and 'twas all over; and the surgeon, with a smiling face, was -holding up to the light, and inspecting with lively curiosity, the -extracted bristle. The patient was in raptures at a result that proved -that she was right, and Sir Benjamin Brodie wrong. She immediately -recovered her health and spirits, and went about everywhere sounding -the praises of "her saviour," as she persisted in calling the -dexterous operator. So enthusiastic was her gratitude, she offered him -her hand in marriage and her noble fortune. The fact that the young -surgeon was already married was an insuperable obstacle to this -arrangement. But other proofs of gratitude the lady lavishly showered -on him. She compelled him to accept a carriage and horses, a service -of plate, and a new house. Unfortunately the lucky fellow could not -keep his own counsel. Like foolish Samson with Delilah, he imparted -the secret of his cunning to the wife of his bosom; she confided it to -Louise Clarissa, her especial friend, who had been her bridesmaid; -Louise Clarissa told it under vows of inviolable secrecy to six other -particular friends; and the six other particular friends--base and -unworthy girls!--told it to all the world. Ere long the story came -round to the lady herself. Then what a storm arose! She was in a -transport of fury! It was of no avail for the surgeon to remind her -that he had unquestionably raised her from a pitiable condition to -health and happiness. That mattered not. He had tricked, fooled, -bamboozled her! She would not forgive him, she would pursue him with -undying vengeance, she would ruin him! The writer of these pages is -happy to know that the surgeon here spoken of, whose prosperous career -has been adorned by much genuine benevolence, though unforgiven, was -not ruined. - -The ignorant are remarkable alike for suspicion and credulity; and the -quack makes them his prey by lulling to sleep the former quality, and -artfully arousing and playing upon the latter. Whatever the field of -quackery may be, the dupe must ever be the same. Some years since a -canny drover, from the north of the Tweed, gained a high reputation -throughout the Eastern Counties for selling at high prices the beasts -intrusted to him as a salesman. At Norwich and Earl Soham, at Bury and -Ipswich, the story was the same--Peter M'Dougal invariably got more -per head for "a lot" than even his warmest admirers had calculated he -would obtain. He managed his business so well, that his brethren, -unable to compete with him, came to a conclusion not altogether -supported by the facts of the case, but flattering to their own -self-love. Clearly Peter could only surpass them by such a long -distance, through the agency of some charm or witch's secret. They -hinted as much; and Peter wisely accepted the suggestion, with a -half-assenting nod of cunning, and encouraged his mates to believe in -it. A year or so passed on, and it was generally allowed that Peter -M'Dougal was in league on honourable terms with the unseen world. To -contend with him was useless. The only line open to his would-be -imitators was to buy from him participations in his mysterious powers. -"Peter," at length said a simple southern, at the close of Halesworth -cattle-fair, acting as spokesman for himself and four other -conspirators, "lets us into yer secret, man. Yer ha' made here twelve -pun a yead by a lot that aren't woth sex. How ded yer doo it? We are -all owld friens. Lets us goo to 'Th' Alter'd Case,' an I an my mets -ull stan yar supper an a dead drunk o' whiskey or rom poonch, so be -yar jine hans to giv us the wink." Peter's eyes twinkled. He liked a -good supper and plenty of hot grog at a friend's expense. Indeed, of -such fare, like Sheridan with wine, he was ready to take any given -quantity. The bargain was made, and an immediate adjournment effected -to the public-house rejoicing in the title of "The Case is Altered." -The supper was of hot steak-pudding, made savoury with pepper and -onions. Peter M'Dougal ate plentifully and deliberately. Slowly also -he drank two stiff tumblers of whiskey punch, smoking his pipe -meanwhile without uttering a word. The second tumbler was followed by -a third, and as he sipped the latter half of it, his entertainers -closed round him, and intimated that their part of the contract being -accomplished, he, as a man of honour, ought to fulfill his. Peter was -a man of few words, and without any unnecessary prelude or comment, he -stated in one laconic speech the secret of his professional success. -Laying down his pipe by his empty glass, and emitting from his gray -eyes a light of strange humour, he said drily, "Ye'd knoo hoo it was I -cam to mak sae guid a sale o' my beasties? Weel, I ken it was joost -this--_I fund a fule!_" - -The drover who rises to be a capitalist, and the lawyer who mounts to -the woolsack, ascend by the same process. They know how to find out -fools, and how to turn their discoveries to advantage. - -It is told of a Barbadoes physician and slaveholder, that having been -robbed to a serious extent in his sugar-works, he discovered the thief -by the following ingenious artifice. Having called his slaves -together, he addressed them thus:--"My friends, the great serpent -appeared to me during the night, and told me that the person who stole -my money should, at this instant--_this very instant_--have a parrot's -feather at the point of his nose." On this announcement, the dishonest -thief, anxious to find out if his guilt had declared itself, put his -finger to his nose. "Man," cried the master instantly, "'tis thou who -hast robbed me. The great serpent has just told me so." - -Clearly this piece of quackery succeeded, because the quack had "fund -a fule." - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -JOHN RADCLIFFE. - - -Radcliffe, the Jacobite partisan, the physician without learning, and -the luxurious _bon-vivant_, who grudged the odd sixpences of his -tavern scores, was born at Wakefield in Yorkshire, in the year 1650. -His extraction was humble, his father being only a well-to-do yeoman. -In after life, when he lived on intimate terms with the leading -nobility of the country, he put in a claim for aristocratic descent; -and the Earl of Derwentwater recognized him as a kinsman deriving his -blood from the Radcliffes of Dilston, in the county of Northumberland, -the chiefs of which honourable family had been knights, barons, and -earls, from the time of Henry IV. It may be remembered that a similar -countenance was given to Burke's patrician pretensions, which have -been related by more than one biographer, with much humorous pomp. In -Radcliffe's case the Heralds interfered with the Earl's decision; for -after the physician's decease they admonished the University of Oxford -not to erect any escutcheon over or upon his monument. But though -Radcliffe was a plebeian, he contrived, by his shrewd humour, -arrogant simplicity, and immeasurable insolence, to hold both Whigs -and Tories in his grasp. The two factions of the aristocracy bowed -before him--the Tories from affection to a zealous adherent of regal -absolutism; and the Whigs, from a superstitious belief in his remedial -skill, and a fear that in their hours of need he would leave them to -the advances of Death. - -At the age of fifteen he became a member of the University College, -Oxford; and having kept his terms there, he took his B. A. degree in -1669, and was made senior-scholar of the college. But no fellowship -falling vacant there, he accepted one on the foundation of Lincoln -College. His M. B. degree he took in 1675, and forthwith obtained -considerable practice in Oxford. Owing to a misunderstanding with Dr. -Marshall, the rector of Lincoln College, Radcliffe relinquished a -fellowship, which he could no longer hold, without taking orders, in -1677. He did not take his M. D. degree till 1682, two years after -which time he went up to London, and took a house in Bow Street, next -that in which Sir Godfrey Kneller long resided; and with a facility -which can hardly be credited in these days, when success is achieved -only by slow advances, he stept forthwith into a magnificent income. - -The days of mealy-mouthed suavity had not yet come to the Faculty. -Instead of standing by each other with lip-service, as they now do in -spite of all their jealousies, physicians and surgeons vented their -mutual enmities in frank, honest abuse. Radcliffe's tongue was well -suited for this part of his business; and if that unruly member -created for him enemies, it could also contend with a legion of -adversaries at the same time. Foulks and Adams, then the first -apothecaries in Oxford, tried to discredit the young doctor, but were -ere long compelled to sue for a cessation of hostilities. Luff, who -afterwards became Professor of Physic in the University, declared that -all "Radcliffe's cures were performed only by guesswork"; and Gibbons, -with a sneer, said, "that it was a pity that his friends had not made -a scholar of the young man." In return Radcliffe always persisted in -speaking of his opponent as _Nurse_ Gibbons--because of his slops and -diet drinks, whereas he (Radcliffe the innovator) preached up the good -effects of fresh air, a liberal table, and cordials. This was the Dr. -Gibbons around whom the apothecaries rallied, to defend their -interests in the great Dispensarian contest, and whom Garth in his -poem ridicules, under the name of "Mirmillo," for entertaining -drug-venders:-- - - "Not far from that frequented theatre, - Where wandering punks each night at five repair, - Where purple emperors in buskins tread, - And rule imaginary worlds for bread; - Where Bentley, by old writers, wealthy grew, - And Briscoe lately was undone by new; - There triumphs a physician of renown, - To none, but such as rust in health, unknown. - . . . . . - The trading tribe oft thither throng to dine, - And want of elbow-room supply in wine." - -Gibbons was not the only dangerous antagonist that Radcliffe did -battle with in London. Dr. Whistler, Sir Edmund King, Sir Edward -Hannes, and Sir Richard Blackmore were all strong enough to hurt him -and rouse his jealousy. Hannes, also an Oxford man, was to the last a -dangerous and hated rival. He opened his campaign in London with a -carriage and four horses. The equipage was so costly and imposing that -it attracted the general attention of the town. "By Jove! Radcliffe," -said a kind friend, "Hannes's horses are the finest I have ever seen." -"Umph!" growled Radcliffe savagely, "then he'll be able to sell them -for all the more." - -To make his name known Hannes used to send his liveried footmen -running about the streets with directions to put their heads into -every coach they met and inquire, with accents of alarm, if Dr. Hannes -was in it. Acting on these orders, one of his fellows, after looking -into every carriage between Whitehall and the Royal Exchange, without -finding his employer, ran up Exchange Alley into Garraway's -Coffee-house, which was one of the great places of meeting for the -members of the medical profession. (Apothecaries used regularly to -come and consult the physicians, while the latter were over their -wine, paying only half fees for the advice so given, without the -patients being personally examined. Batson's coffee-house in Corn-hill -was another favourite spot for these Galenic re-unions, Sir William -Blizard being amongst the last of the medical authorities who -frequented that hostelry for the purpose of receiving apothecaries.) -"Gentlemen, can your honours tell me if Dr. Hannes is here?" asked the -man, running into the very centre of the exchange of medicine-men. -"Who wants Dr. Hannes, fellow?" demanded Radcliffe, who happened to be -present. "Lord A---- and Lord B----, your honour!" answered the man. -"No, no, friend," responded the doctor slowly, and with pleasant -irony, "you are mistaken. Those lords don't want your master--'tis he -who wants them." - -But Hannes made friends and a fine income, to the deep chagrin of his -contemptuous opponent. An incessant feud existed between the two men. -The virulence of their mutual animosity may be estimated by the -following story. When the poor little Duke of Gloucester was taken -ill, Sir Edward Hannes and Blackmore (famous as Sir Richard Blackmore, -the poet) were called in to attend him. On the case taking a fatal -turn, Radcliffe was sent for; and after roundly charging the two -doctors with the grossest mismanagement of a simple attack of rash, -went on, "It would have been happy for this nation had you, sir, been -bred up a basket-maker--and you, sir, had remained a country -schoolmaster, rather than have ventured out of your reach, in the -practice of an art which you are an utter stranger to, and for your -blunders in which you ought to be whipped with one of your own rods." -The reader will not see the force of this delicate speech if he is not -aware that Hannes was generally believed to be the son of a -basket-maker, and Sir Richard Blackmore had, in the period of his -early poverty, like Johnson and Oliver Goldsmith, been a teacher of -boys. Whenever the "Amenities of the Faculty" come to be published, -this consultation, on the last illness of Jenkin Lewis's little -friend, ought to have its niche in the collection. - -Towards the conclusion of his life, Radcliffe said that, "when a young -practitioner, he possessed twenty remedies for every disease; and at -the close of his career he found twenty diseases for which he had not -one remedy." His mode of practice, however, as far as anything is -known about it, at the outset was the same as that which he used at -the conclusion of his career. Pure air, cleanliness, and a wholesome -diet were amongst his most important prescriptions; though he was so -far from running counter to the interests of the druggists, that his -apothecary, Dandridge, whose business was almost entirely confined to -preparing the doctor's medicines, died worth 50,000_l_. For the -imaginary maladies of his hypochondriacal male and fanciful female -patients he had the greatest contempt, and neither respect for age or -rank, nor considerations of interest, could always restrain him from -insulting such patients. In 1686 he was appointed physician to -Princess Anne of Denmark, and was for some years a trusted adviser of -that royal lady; but he lacked the compliant temper and imperturbable -suavity requisite for a court physician. Shortly after the death of -Queen Mary, the Princess Anne, having incurred a fit of what is by the -vulgar termed "blue devils," from not paying proper attention to her -diet, sent in all haste to her physician. Radcliffe, when he received -the imperative summons to hurry to St. James's was sitting over his -bottle in a tavern. The allurements of Bacchus were too strong for -him, and he delayed his visit to the distinguished sufferer. A second -messenger arrived, but by that time the physician was so gloriously -ennobled with claret, that he discarded all petty considerations of -personal advantage, and flatly refused to stir an inch from the room -where he was experiencing all the happiness humanity is capable of. -"Tell her Royal Highness," he exclaimed, banging his fist on the -table, "that her distemper is nothing but the vapours. She's in as -good state of health as any woman breathing--only she can't make up -her mind to believe it." - -The next morning prudence returned with sobriety; and the doctor did -not fail to present himself at an early hour in the Princess's -apartment in St. James's Palace. To his consternation he was stopped -in the ante-room by an officer, and informed that he was dismissed -from his post, which had already been given to Dr. Gibbons. Anne never -forgave the sarcasm about "the vapours." It so rankled in her breast, -that, though she consented to ask for the Doctor's advice both for -herself and those dear to her, she never again held any cordial -communication with him. Radcliffe tried to hide the annoyance caused -him by his fall, in a hurricane of insolence towards his triumphant -rival: Nurse Gibbons had gotten a new nursery--Nurse Gibbons was not -to be envied his new acquisition--Nurse Gibbons was fit only to look -after a woman who merely fancied herself ill. - -Notwithstanding this rupture with the Court, Radcliffe continued to -have the most lucrative practice in town, and in all that regarded -money he was from first to last a most lucky man. On coming to town he -found Lower, the Whig physician, sinking in public favour--and Thomas -Short, the Roman Catholic doctor, about to drop into the grave. -Whistler, Sir Edmund King, and Blackmore had plenty of patients. But -there was a "splendid opening," and so cleverly did Radcliffe slip -into it, that at the end of his first year in town he got twenty -guineas per diem. The difference in the value of money being taken -into consideration, it may be safely affirmed that no living -physician makes more. Occasionally the fees presented to him were very -large. He cured Bentinck, afterwards Earl of Portland, of a -diarrhoea, and Zulestein, afterwards Earl of Rochford, of an attack -of congestion of the brain. For these services William III. presented -him with 500 guineas out of the privy-purse, and offered to appoint -him one of his physicians, with L200 per annum more than he gave any -other of his medical officers. Radcliffe pocketed the fee, but his -Jacobite principles precluded him from accepting the post. William, -however, notwithstanding the opposition of Bidloe and the rest of his -medical servants, held Radcliffe in such estimation that he -continually consulted him; and during the first eleven years of his -reign paid him, one year with another, 600 guineas per annum. And when -he restored to health William, Duke of Gloucester (the Princess of -Denmark's son), who in his third year was attacked with severe -convulsions, Queen Mary sent him, through the hand of her Lord -Chamberlain, 1000 guineas. And for attending the Earl of Albemarle at -Namur he had 400 guineas and a diamond ring, 1200 guineas from the -treasury, and an offer of a baronetcy from the King. - -For many years he was the neighbour of Sir Godfrey Kneller, in Bow -Street. A dispute that occurred between the two neighbours and friends -is worth recording. Sir Godfrey took pleasure in his garden, and -expended large sums of money in stocking it with exotic plants and -rare flowers. Radcliffe also enjoyed a garden, but loved his fees too -well to expend them on one of his own. He suggested to Sir Godfrey -that it would be a good plan to insert a door into the boundary wall -between their gardens, so that on idle afternoons, when he had no -patients to visit, he might slip into his dear friend's -pleasure-grounds. Kneller readily assented to this proposition, and -ere a week had elapsed the door was ready for use. The plan, however, -had not been long acted on when the painter was annoyed by Radcliffe's -servants wantonly injuring his parterres. After fruitlessly -expostulating against these depredations, the sufferer sent a message -to his friend, threatening, if the annoyance recurred, to brick up the -wall. "Tell Sir Godfrey," answered Radcliffe to the messenger, "that -he may do what he likes to the door, so long as he does not paint it." -When this vulgar jeer was reported to Kneller, he replied, with equal -good humour and more wit, "Go back and give my service to Dr. -Radcliffe, and tell him, I'll take anything from him--but physic." - -Radcliffe was never married, and professed a degree of misogyny that -was scarcely in keeping with his conduct on certain occasions. His -person was handsome and imposing, but his manners were little -calculated to please women. Overbearing, truculent, and abusive, he -could not rest without wounding the feelings of his companions with -harsh jokes. Men could bear with him, but ladies were like Queen Anne -in vehemently disliking him. King William was not pleased with his -brutal candour in exclaiming, at the sight of the dropsical ancles -uncovered for inspection, "I would not have your Majesty's legs for -your three kingdoms"; but William's sister-in-law repaid a much -slighter offence with life-long animosity. In 1693, however, the -doctor made an offer to a citizen's daughter, who had beauty and a -fortune of L15,000. As she was only twenty-four years of age, the -doctor was warmly congratulated by his friends when he informed them -that he, though well advanced in middle age, had succeeded in his -suit. Before the wedding-day, however, it was discovered that the -health of the lady rendered it incumbent on her honour that she should -marry her father's book-keeper. This mishap soured the doctor's temper -to the fair sex, and his sarcasms at feminine folly and frailty were -innumerable. - -He was fond of declaring that he wished for an Act of Parliament -entitling nurses to the sole and entire medical care of women. A lady -who consulted him about a nervous singing in the head was advised to -"curl her hair with a ballad." His scorn of women was not lessened by -the advances of certain disorderly ladies of condition, who displayed -for him that morbid passion which medical practitioners have often to -resist in the treatment of hysterical patients. Yet he tried his luck -once again at the table of love. "There's no fool so great as an old -fool." In the summer of 1709, Radcliffe, then in his sixtieth year, -started a new equipage; and having arrayed himself in the newest mode -of foppery, threw all the town into fits of laughter by paying his -addresses, with the greatest possible publicity, to a lady who -possessed every requisite charm--(youth, beauty, wealth)--except a -tenderness for her aged suitor. Again was there an unlucky termination -to the doctor's love, which Steele, in No. 44 of _The Tatler_, -ridiculed in the following manner:-- - -"This day, passing through Covent Garden, I was stopped in the Piazza -by Pacolet, to observe what he called _The Triumph of Love and Youth_. -I turned to the object he pointed at, and there I saw a gay gilt -chariot, drawn by fresh prancing horses, the coachman with a new -cockade, and the lacqueys with insolence and plenty in their -countenances. I asked immediately, 'What young heir, or lover, owned -that glittering equipage!' But my companion interrupted, 'Do not you -see there the mourning AEsculapius?' 'The mourning!' said I. 'Yes, -Isaac,' said Pacolet, 'he is in deep mourning, and is the languishing, -hopeless lover of the divine Hebe, the emblem of Youth and Beauty. -That excellent and learned sage you behold in that furniture is the -strongest instance imaginable that love is the most powerful of all -things. - -"'You are not so ignorant as to be a stranger to the character of -AEsculapius, as the patron and most successful of all who profess the -Art of Medicine. But as most of his operations are owing to a natural -sagacity or impulse, he has very little troubled himself with the -Doctrine of Drugs, but has always given Nature more room to help -herself than any of her learned assistants; and consequently has done -greater wonders than in the power of Art to perform; for which reason -he is half deified by the people, and has ever been courted by all the -world, just as if he were a seventh son. - -"'It happened that the charming Hebe was reduc'd, by a long and -violent fever, to the most extreme danger of Death; and when all skill -failed, they sent for AEsculapius. The renowned artist was touched with -the deepest compassion, to see the faded charms and faint bloom of -Hebe; and had a generous concern, too, in beholding a struggle, not -between Life, but rather between Youth, and Death. All his skill and -his passion tended to the recovery of Hebe, beautiful even in -sickness; but, alas! the unhappy physician knew not that in all his -care he was only sharpening darts for his own destruction. In a word, -his fortune was the same with that of the statuary who fell in love -with an image of his own making; and the unfortunate AEsculapius is -become the patient of her whom he lately recovered. Long before this, -AEsculapius was far gone in the unnecessary and superfluous amusements -of old age, in the increase of unwieldy stores, and the provision in -the midst of an incapacity of enjoyment, of what he had for a supply -of more wants than he had calls for in Youth itself. But these low -considerations are now no more; and Love has taken place of Avarice, -or rather is become an Avarice of another kind, which still urges him -to pursue what he does not want. But behold the metamorphosis: the -anxious mean cares of an usurer are turned into the languishments and -complaints of a lover. "Behold," says the aged AEsculapius, "I submit; -I own, great Love, thy empire. Pity, Hebe, the fop you have made. What -have I to do with gilding but on Pills? Yet, O Fate! for thee I sit -amidst a crowd of painted deities on my chariot, buttoned in gold, -clasp'd in gold, without having any value for that beloved metal, but -as it adorns the person and laces the hat of the dying lover. I ask -not to live, O Hebe! Give me but gentle death. Euthanasia, Euthanasia! -that is all I implore."' When AEsculapius had finished his complaint, -Pacolet went on in deep morals on the uncertainty of riches, with -this remarkable explanation--'O wealth! how impatient art thou! And -how little dost thou supply us with real happiness, when the usurer -himself cannot forget thee, for the love of what is foreign to his -felicity, as thou art!'" - -Seven days after the _Tatler_ resumed the attack, but with less happy -effect. In this picture, the justice of which was not questioned, even -by the Doctor's admirers, the avarice of the veteran is not less -insisted on as the basis of his character, than his amorousness is -displayed as a ludicrous freak of vanity. Indeed, love of money was -the master-defect of Radcliffe's disposition. Without a child, or a -prospect of offspring, he screwed and scraped in every direction. Even -his debaucheries had an alloy of discomfort that does not customarily -mingle in the dissipations of the rich. The flavour of the money each -bottle cost gave ungrateful smack to his wine. He had numerous poor -relations, of whom he took, during his life, little or no notice. Even -his sisters he kept at arm's distance, lest they should show their -affection for him by dipping their hands in his pockets. It is true, -he provided liberally for them at his death--leaving to the one (a -married lady--Mrs. Hannah Redshaw) a thousand a year for life, and to -the other (a spinster lady) an income of half that amount as long as -she lived. But that he treated them with unbrotherly neglect there is -no doubt. - -After his decease, a letter was found in his closet, directed to his -unmarried sister, Millicent Radcliffe, in which, with contrition, and -much pathos, he bids her farewell. "You will find," says he, in that -epistle, "by my will that I have taken better care of you than -perhaps you might expect from my former treatment of you; for which, -with my dying breath, I most heartily ask pardon. I had indeed acted -the brother's part much better, in making a handsome settlement on you -while living, than after my decease; and can plead nothing in excuse, -but that the love of money, which I have emphatically known to be the -root of all evil, was too predominant over me. Though, I hope, I have -made some amends for that odious sin of covetousness, in my last -dispositions of those worldly goods which it pleased the great -Dispenser of Providence to bless me with." - -What made this meanness of disposition in money matters the more -remarkable was, that he was capable of occasional munificence, on a -scale almost beyond his wealth, and also of a stoical fortitude under -any reverse of fortune that chanced to deprive him of some of his -beloved guineas. - -In the year 1704, at a general collection for propagating the Gospel -in foreign parts, he settled on the Society established for that -purpose L50 per annum for ever. And this noble gift he unostentatiously -made under an assumed name. In the same year he presented L520 to the -Bishop of Norwich, to be distributed among the poor non-juring clergy; -and this donation he also desired should be kept a secret from the -world. - -His liberality to Oxford was far from being all of the _post-mortem_ -sort. In 1687 he presented the chapel of University College with an -east window, representing, in stained glass, the Nativity, and having -the following inscription:--"D.D. Johan Radcliffe, M.D., hujus -Collegii quondam Socius, Anno Domini MDCLXXXVII." In 1707 he gave -Sprat, Bishop of Rochester, bills for L300, drawn under the assumed -name of Francis Andrews, on Waldegrave the goldsmith, of Russell -Street, Covent Garden, for the relief of distressed Scotch Episcopal -clergy. - -As another instance of how his niggard nature could allow him to do -good by stealth, and blush to find it fame, his liberality to James -Drake, the Tory writer, may be mentioned. Drake was a physician, as -well as a political author. As the latter, he was well liked, as the -former he was honestly hated by Radcliffe. Two of a trade--where one -of the two is a John Radcliffe--can never agree. Each of the two -doctors had done his utmost to injure the reputation of the other. But -when Drake, broken in circumstances by a political persecution, was in -sore distress from want of money, Radcliffe put fifty guineas into a -lady's hands, and begged her to convey it to Drake. "Let him," said -Radcliffe, with the delicacy of a fine heart, "by no means be told -whence it comes. He is a gentleman, and has often done his best to -hurt me. He could, therefore, by no means brook the receipt of a -benefit from a person whom he had used all possible means to make an -enemy." - -After such instances of Ratcliffe's generosity, it may seem -unnecessary to give more proofs of the existence of that quality, -disguised though it was by miserly habits. His friend Nutley, a loose -rollicking gentleman about town, a barrister without practice, a man -of good family, and no fortune, a jovial dog, with a jest always on -his lips, wine in his head, and a death's-head grinning over each -shoulder [such bachelors may still be found in London], was in this -case the object of the doctor's benevolence. Driven by duns and -tippling to the borders of distraction, Nutley crept out of his -chambers under the cover of night to the "Mitre Tavern," and called -for "a bottle." "A bottle" with Nutley meant "many bottles." The end -of it was that the high-spirited gentleman fell down in a condition of ----- well! in a condition that Templars, in this age of earnest -purpose and decent morals, would blush to be caught in. Mr. Nutley was -taken hold of by the waiters, and carried up-stairs to bed. - -The next morning the merry fellow is in the saddest of all possible -humours. The memory of a few little bills, the holders of which are -holding a parliament on his stair-case in Pump-court; the recollection -that he has not a guinea left--either to pacify those creditors with, -or to use in paying for the wine consumed over night; a depressing -sense that the prominent features of civilized existence are -tax-gatherers and sheriff's officers; a head that seems to be falling -over one side of the pillow, whilst the eyes roll out on the -other;--all these afflict poor Mr. Nutley! A knock at the door, and -the landlady enters. The landlady is the Widow Watts, daughter of the -widow Bowles, also in the same line. As now, so a hundred and fifty -years ago, ladies in licensed victualling circles played tricks with -their husbands' night-caps--killed them with kindness, and reigned in -their stead. The widow Watts has a sneaking fondness for poor Mr. -Nutley, and is much affected when, in answer to her inquiry how "his -honour feels his-self," he begins to sob like a child, narrate the -troubles of his infancy, the errors of his youth, and the sorrows of -his riper age. Mistress Watts is alarmed. Only to think of Mr. Nutley -going on like that, talking of his blessed mother who had been dead -these twenty years, and vowing he'd kill himself, because he is an -outcast, and no better than a disgrace to his family. "To think of it! -and only yesterday he were the top of company, and would have me drink -his own honourable health in a glass of his own wine." Mistress Watts -sends straightway for Squire Nutley's friend, the Doctor. When -Radcliffe makes his appearance, he sees the whole case at a glance, -rallies Billy Nutley about his rascally morals, estimates his -assertion that "it's only his liver a little out of order" exactly at -its worth, and takes his leave shortly, saying to himself, "If poor -Billy could only be freed from the depression caused by his present -pecuniary difficulties, he would escape for this once a return of the -deliri...." At the end of another half hour, a goldsmith's man enters -the bed-room, and puts into Nutley's hand a letter and a bag of gold -containing 200 guineas. The epistle is from Radcliffe, begging his -friend to accept the money, and to allow the donor to send him in a -few days 300 more of the same coins. Such was the physician's -prescription, in dispensing which he condescended to act as his own -apothecary. Bravo, doctor!--who of us shall say which of the good -deeds--thy gift to Billy Nutley or thy princely bequest to Oxford--has -the better right to be regarded as the offspring of sincere -benevolence? Some--and let no "fie!" be cried upon them--will find in -this story more to make them love thy memory than they have ever found -in that noble library whose dome stands up amidst the towers, and -steeples, and sacred walls of beloved Oxford. - -It would not be hard to say which of the two gifts has done the -greater good. Poor Will Nutley took his 500 guineas, and had "more -bottles," went a few more times to the theatres in lace and velvet and -brocade, roared out at a few more drinking bouts, and was carried off -by [his biographer calls it "a violent fever"] in the twenty-ninth -year of his age. And possibly since Willy Nutley was Willy Nutley, and -no one else, this was the best possible termination for him. That -Radcliffe, the head of a grave profession, and a man of fifty-seven -years of age, should have conceived an enthusiastic friendship for a -youngster of half his age, is a fact that shows us one of the -consequences of the tavern life of our great-grandfathers. It puts us -in mind of how Fielding, ere he had a beard, burst into popularity -with the haunters of coffee-houses. When roistering was in fashion, a -young man had many chances which he no longer possesses. After the -theatres were closed, he reeled into the hostels of the town, singing -snatches with the blithe, clear voice of youth, laughing and jesting -with all around, and frequently amongst that "all" he came in contact -with the highest and most powerful men of the time. A boy-adventurer -could display his wit and quality to statesmen and leaders of all -sorts; whereas now he must wait years before he is even introduced to -them, and years more ere he gets an invitation to their formal -dinners, at which Barnes Newcome cuts as brilliant a figure as the -best and the strongest. - -Throughout his life Radcliffe was a staunch and manly Jacobite. He was -for "the king"; but neither loyalty nor interest could bind him to -higher considerations than those of attachment to the individual he -regarded as the rightful head of the realm. In 1688, when Obadiah -Walker tried to wheedle him into the folly of becoming a Romanist, the -attempt at perversion proved a signal failure. Nothing can be more -truly manly than his manner of rejecting the wily advances of the -proselytizing pervert. "The advantages you propose to me," he writes, -"may be very great, for all that I know; God Almighty can do very much -and so can the king; but you'll pardon me if I cease to speak like a -physician for once, and, with an air of gravity, am very apprehensive -that I may anger the one in being too complaisant to the other. You -cannot call this pinning my faith to any man's sleeve; those that know -me are too well apprized of my quite contrary tendency. As I never -flattered a man myself, so 'tis my firm resolution never to be -wheedled out of my real sentiments--which are, that since it has been -my good fortune to be educated according to the usage of the Church of -England, established by law, I shall never make myself so unhappy as -to shame my teachers and instructors by departing from what I have -imbibed from them." - -Thus was Walker treated when he abused his position as head of -University College. But when the foolish man was deprived of his -office, he found a good friend in him whom he had tried to seduce from -the Church in which he had been reared. From the time of his first -coming to London from Oxford, on the abdication of James the Second, -up to the time of his death, Walker subsisted on a handsome allowance -made to him out of Radcliffe's purse. When, also, the discarded -principal died, it was the doctor who gave him an honourable interment -in Pancras churchyard, and years afterwards erected a monument to his -memory. - -As years passed on, without the restitution of the proscribed males of -the Stuart House, Radcliffe's political feelings became more bitter. -He was too cautious a man to commit himself in any plot having for its -object a change of dynasty; but his ill-humour at the existing state -of things vented itself in continual sarcasms against the chiefs of -the Whig party with whom he came in contact. He professed that he did -not wish for practice amongst the faction to which he was opposed. He -had rather only preserve the lives of those citizens who were loyal to -their king. One of the immediate results of this affectation was -increased popularity with his political antagonists. Whenever a Whig -leader was dangerously ill, his friends were sure to feel that his -only chance of safety rested on the ministrations of the Jacobite -doctor. Radcliffe would be sent for, and after swearing a score of -times that nothing should induce him to comply with the summons, would -make his appearance at the sick-bed, where he would sometimes tell the -sufferer that the devil would have no mercy on those who put -constitutional governments above the divine right of kings. If the -patient recovered, of course his cure was attributed to the Tory -physician; and if death was the result, the same cause was pointed -to. - -It might be fancied that, rather than incur a charge of positively -killing his political antagonists, Radcliffe would have left them to -their fates. But this plan would have served him the reverse of well. -If he failed to attend a Whig's death-bed to which he had been -summoned, the death was all the same attributed to him. "He might," -exclaimed the indignant survivors, "have saved poor Tom if he had -liked; only poor Tom was a Whig, and so he left him to die." He was -charged alike with killing Queen Mary, whom he did attend in her dying -illness--and Queen Anne, whom he didn't. - -The reader of the Harleian MS. of Burnet's "History" is amused with -the following passage, which does not appear in the printed -editions:--"I will not enter into another province, nor go out of my -own profession, and so will say no more of the physician's part, but -that it was universally condemned; so that the Queen's death was -imputed to the unskilfulness and wilfulness of Dr. Radcliffe, an -impious and vicious man, who hated the Queen much, but virtue and -religion more. He was a professed Jacobite, and was, by many, thought -a very bad physician; but others cried him up to the highest degree -imaginable. He was called for, and it appeared but too evident that -his opinion was depended on. Other physicians were called when it was -too late; all symptoms were bad, yet still the Queen felt herself -well." - -Radcliffe's negative murder of Queen Anne was yet more amusing than -his positive destruction of Mary. When Queen Anne was almost _in -extremis_, Radcliffe was sent for. The Queen, though she never forgave -him for his drunken ridicule of her vapours, had an exalted opinion -of his professional talents, and had, more than once, winked at her -ladies, consulting him about the health of their royal mistress. Now -that death was at hand, Lady Masham sent a summons for the doctor; but -he was at Carshalton, sick of his dying illness, and returned answer -that it would be impossible for him to leave his country-seat and wait -on her Majesty. Such was the absurd and superstitious belief in his -mere presence, that the Queen was popularly pictured as having died -because he was not present to see her draw her last breath. Whom he -liked he could kill, and whom he liked could keep alive and well. Even -Arbuthnot, a brother physician, was so tinctured with the popular -prejudice, that he could gravely tell Swift of the pleasure Radcliffe -had "in preserving my Lord Chief Justice Holt's wife, whom he attended -out of spite to her husband, who wished her dead." - -It makes one smile to read Charles Ford's letter to the sarcastic Dean -on the subject of the Queen's last illness. "She continued ill the -whole day. In the evening I spoke to Dr Arbuthnot, and he told me that -he did not think her distemper was desperate. Radcliffe was sent for -to Carshalton about noon, by order of council; but said he had taken -physic and could not come. _In all probability he had saved her life; -for I am told the late Lord Gower had been often in the condition with -the gout in the head, and Radcliffe kept him alive many years after._" -The author of Gulliver must have grinned as he read this sentence. It -was strange stuff to write about "that puppy Radcliffe" (as the Dean -calls the physician in his journal to Stella) to the man who coolly -sent out word to a Dublin mob that he had put off an eclipse to a -more suitable time. The absurdity of Ford's letter is heightened by -the fact that it was written before the Queen's death. It is dated -July 31, 1714, and concludes with the following postscript:--"The -Queen is something better, and the council again adjourned till eight -in the morning." Surely the accusation, then, of negative -womanslaughter was preferred somewhat prematurely. The next day, -however, the Queen died; and then arose a magnificent hubbub of -indignation against the impious doctor. The poor man himself sinking -into the grave, was at that country-seat where he had entertained his -medical friends with so many noisy orgies. But the cries for vengeance -reached him in his retreat. "Give us back our ten days!" screamed the -rabble of London round Lord Chesterfield's carriage. "Give us back our -Queen!" was the howl directed against Radcliffe. The accused was a -member of the House of Commons, having been elected M.P. for the town -of Buckingham in the previous year; and positively a member (one of -Radcliffe's intimate personal acquaintances) moved that the physician -should be summoned to attend in his place and be censured for not -attending her late Majesty. To a friend the doctor wrote from -Carshalton on August 7, 1714:--"Dear Sir,--I could not have thought so -old an acquaintance, and so good a friend as Sir John always professed -himself, would have made such a motion against me. God knows my will -to do her Majesty any service has ever got the start of my ability, -and I have nothing that gives me greater anxiety and trouble than the -death of that great and glorious Princess. I must do that justice to -the physicians that attended her in her illness, from a sight of the -method that was taken for her preservation, transmitted to me by Dr -Mead, as to declare nothing was omitted for her preservation; but the -people about her (the plagues of Egypt fall upon them!) put it out of -the power of physick to be of any benefit to her. I know the nature of -attending crowned heads to their last moments too well to be fond of -waiting upon them, without being sent for by a proper authority. You -have heard of pardons signed for physicians before a sovereign's -demise. However, as ill as I was, I would have went to the Queen in a -horse-litter, had either her Majesty, or those in commission next to -her, commanded me so to do. You may tell Sir John as much, and assure -him, from me, that his zeal for her Majesty will not excuse his ill -usage of _a friend who has drunk many a hundred bottles with him_, and -cannot, even after this breach of good understanding, that was ever -preserved between us, but have a very good esteem for him." - -So strong was the feeling against the doctor, that a set of maniacs at -large formed a plan for his assassination. Fortunately, however, the -plot was made known to him in the following letter:-- - -"Doctor,--Tho' I am no friend of yours, but, on the contrary, one that -could wish your destruction in a legal way, for not preventing the -death of our most excellent Queen, whom you had it in your power to -save, yet I have such an aversion to the taking away men's lives -unfairly, as to acquaint you that if you go to meet the gentlemen you -have appointed to dine with at the 'Greyhound,' in Croydon, on -Thursday next, you will be most certainly murthered. I am one of the -persons engaged in the conspiracy, with twelve more, who are resolved -to sacrifice you to the _Ghost of her late Majesty, that cries aloud -for blood_; therefore, neither stir out of doors that day, nor any -other, nor think of exchanging your present abode for your house at -Hammersmith, since there and everywhere else we shall be in quest of -you. I am touched with remorse, and give you this notice; but take -care of yourself, lest I repent of it, and give proofs of so doing, by -having it in my power to destroy you, who am your sworn enemy.--N. G." - -That thirteen men could have been found to meditate such a ridiculous -atrocity is so incredible, that one is inclined to suspect a hoax in -this epistle. Radcliffe, however, did not see the letter in that -light. Panic-struck, he kept himself a close prisoner to his house and -its precincts, though he was very desirous of paying another visit to -London--the monotony of his rural seclusion being broken only by the -customary visits of his professional associates who came down to -comfort and drink with him. The end, however, was fast approaching. -The maladies under which he suffered were exacerbated by mental -disquiet; and his powers suddenly failing him, he expired on the 1st -of November, 1714, just three months after the death of the murdered -Queen, of whose vapours he had spoken so disrespectfully. - -His original biographer (from whose work all his many memoirs have -been taken) tells the world that the great physician "_fell a victim -to the ingratitude of a thankless world, and the fury of the gout_." - -Radcliffe was an ignorant man, but shrewd enough to see that in the -then existing state of medical science the book-learning of the -Faculty could be but of little service to him. He was so notoriously -deficient in the literature of his profession, that his warmest -admirers made merry about it. Garth happily observed that for -Radcliffe to leave a library was as if a eunuch should found a -seraglio. Nor was Radcliffe ashamed to admit his lack of lore. Indeed, -he was proud of it; and on the inquiry being made by Bathurst, the -head of Trinity College, Oxford, where his study was, he pointed to a -few vials, a skeleton, and an herbal, and answered, "This is -Radcliffe's library." Mead, who rose into the first favour of the town -as the doctor retired from it, was an excellent scholar; but far from -assuming on that ground a superiority to his senior, made it the means -of paying him a graceful compliment. The first time that Radcliffe -called on Mead when in town he found his young friend reading -Hippocrates. - -"Do you read Hippocrates in Greek?" demanded the visitor. - -"Yes," replied Mead, timidly fearing his scholarship would offend the -great man. - -"I never read him in my life," responded Radcliffe, sullenly. - -"You, sir," was the rejoinder, "have no occasion--you are Hippocrates -himself." - -A man who could manufacture flattery so promptly and courageously -deserved to get on. Radcliffe swallowed the fly, and was glad to be -the prey of the expert angler. Only the day before, Mead had thrown -in his ground-bait. As a promising young man, Radcliffe had asked him -to a dinner-party at Carshalton, with the hospitable resolve of -reducing such a promising young man to a state of intoxication, in the -presence of the assembled elders of his profession. Mead, however, was -not to be so managed. He had strong nerves, and was careful to drink -as little as he could without attracting attention by his abstinence. -The consequence was that Mead saw magnate after magnate disappear -under the table, just as he had before seen magnum after magnum -disappear above it; and still he retained his self-possession. At last -he and his host were the only occupants of the banqueting-room left in -a non-recumbent position. Radcliffe was delighted with his youthful -acquaintance--loved him almost as well as he had loved Billy Nutley. - -"Mead," cried the enthusiastic veteran to the young man, who anyhow -had not _fallen_ from his chair, "you are a _rising_ man. You will -succeed me." - -"That, sir, is impossible," Mead adroitly answered; "You are Alexander -the Great, and no one can succeed Radcliffe; to succeed to one of his -kingdoms is the utmost of my ambition." - -Charmed with the reply, Radcliffe exclaimed, - -"By ----, I'll recommend you to my patients." - -The promise was kept; and Mead endeavoured to repay the worldly -advancement with spiritual council. "I remember," says Kennett (_vide_ -Lansdowne MSS., Brit. Mus.), "what Dr Mede has told to several of his -friends, that he fell much into the favour of Dr Radcliffe a few years -before his death, and visited him often at Carshalton, where he -observed upon occasion that there was no Bible to be found in the -house. Dr Mede had a mind to supply that defect, without taking any -notice of it; and therefore one day carried down with him a very -beautiful Bible that he had lately bought, which had lain in a closet -of King William for his Majesty's own use, and left it as a curiosity -that he had picked up by the way. When Dr Mede made the last visit to -him he found that Dr R. had read in it as far as the middle of the -Book of Exodus, from whence it might be inferred that he had never -before read the Scriptures; as I doubt must be inferred of Dr Linacre, -from the account given by Sir John Cheke." - -The allusion to "the kingdom of Alexander the Great" reminds one of -Arbuthnot's letter to Swift, in which the writer concludes his sketch -of the proposed map of diseases for Martinus Scriblerus with--"Then -the great diseases are like capital cities, with their symptoms all -like streets and suburbs, with the roads that lead to other diseases. -It is thicker set with towns than any Flanders map you ever saw. -Radcliffe is painted at the corner of the map, contending for the -universal empire of this world, and the rest of the physicians -opposing his ambitious designs, with a project of a treaty of -partition to settle peace." - -As a practitioner, Radcliffe served the public as well as he did his -own interests. The violent measures of bleeding, and the exhibition of -reducing medicines, which constituted the popular practice even to the -present generation, he regarded with distrust in some cases and horror -in others. There is a good story told of him, that well illustrates -his disapproval of a kill-or-cure system, and his hatred of Nurse -Gibbons. John Bancroft, the eminent surgeon, who resided in Russell -Street, Covent Garden, had a son attacked with inflammation of the -lungs. Gibbons was called in, and prescribed the most violent -remedies, or rather the most virulent irritants. The child became -rapidly worse, and Radcliffe was sent for. "I can do nothing, sir," -observed the doctor, after visiting his patient, "for the poor little -boy's preservation. He is killed to all intents and purposes. But if -you have any thoughts of putting a stone over him, I'll help you to an -inscription." The offer was accepted, and over the child's grave, in -Covent Garden churchyard, was placed a stone sculptured with a figure -of a child laying one hand on his side, and saying, "Hic dolor," and -pointing with the other to a death's head on which was engraved, "Ibi -medicus." This is about the prettiest professional libel which we can -point to in all the quarrels of the Faculty. - -The uses to which the doctor applied his wealth every one knows. -Notwithstanding his occasional acts of munificence, and a loss of -L5000 in an East Indian venture, into which Betterton, the tragedian, -seduced him, his accumulations were very great. In his will, after -liberally providing for the members of his family and his dependents, -he devoted his acquisitions to the benefit of the University of -Oxford. From them have proceeded the Radcliffe Library, the Radcliffe -Infirmary, the Radcliffe Observatory, and the Radcliffe Travelling -Fellowships. It is true that nothing has transpired in the history of -these last-mentioned endowments to justify us in reversing the -sentiment of Johnson, who remarked to Boswell: "It is wonderful how -little good Radcliffe's Travelling Fellowships have done. I know -nothing that has been imported by them." - -After lying in state at his own residence, and again in the -University, Radcliffe's body was interred, with great pomp, in St. -Mary's Church, Oxford. The royal gift of so large an estate (which -during life he had been unable thoroughly to enjoy) to purchase a -library, the contents of which he at no time could have read, of -course provoked much comment. It need not be said that the testator's -memory was, for the most part, extolled to the skies. He had died -rich--a great virtue in itself. He was dead; and as men like to deal -out censure as long as it can cause pain, and scatter praise when it -can no longer create happiness, Radcliffe, the physician, the friend -of suffering humanity, the benefactor of ancient and Tory Oxford, was -spoken of in "most handsome terms." One could hardly believe that this -great good man, this fervent Christian and sublime patriot, was the -same man as he whom Steele had ridiculed for servile vanity, and to -bring whom into contempt a play was written, and publicly acted, only -ten years before, to the intense delight of the Duchess of -Marlborough, and the applauding maids of honour. - -The philosophic Mandeville, far from approving the behaviour of the -fickle multitude, retained his old opinion of the doctor, and gave it -to the world in his "Essay on Charity and Charity Schools." "That a -man," writes Mandeville, "with small skill in physic, and hardly any -learning, should by vile arts get into practice, and lay up great -wealth, is no mighty wonder; but that he should so deeply work -himself into the good opinion of the world as to gain the general -esteem of a nation, and establish a reputation beyond all his -contemporaries, with no other qualities but a perfect knowledge of -mankind, and a capacity of making the most of it, is something -extraordinary. - -"If a man arrived to such a height of glory should be almost -distracted with pride--sometime give his attendance on a servant, or -any mean person, for nothing and at the same time neglect a nobleman -that gives exhorbitant fees--at other times refuse to leave his bottle -for his business, without any regard to the quality of the persons -that sent for him, or the danger they are in; if he should be surly -and morose, affect to be an humourist, treat his patients like dogs, -though people of distinction, and value no man but what would deify -him, and never call in question the certainty of his oracles; if he -should insult all the world, affront the first nobility, and extend -his insolence even to the royal family; if to maintain, as well as to -increase, the fame of his sufficiency, he should scorn to consult his -betters, on what emergency soever, look down with contempt on the most -deserving of his profession, and never confer with any other physician -but what will pay homage to his genius, creep to his humour, and ever -approach him with all the slavish obsequiousness a court flatterer can -treat a prince with; if a man in his life-time should discover, on the -one hand, such manifest symptoms of superlative pride, and an -insatiable greediness after wealth at the same time; and, on the -other, no regard to religion or affection to his kindred, no -compassion to the poor, and hardly any humanity to his fellow-creatures; -if he gave no proofs that he loved his country, had a public spirit, -or was a lover of the arts, of books, or of literature--what must we -judge of his motive, the principle he acted from, when, after his -death, we find that he has left a trifle among his relations who stood -in need of it, and an immense treasure to a University that did not -want it. - -"Let a man be as charitable as it is possible for him to be, without -forfeiting his reason or good sense, can he think otherwise, but that -this famous physician did, in the making of his will, as in everything -else, indulge his darling passion, entertaining his vanity with the -happiness of the contrivance?" - -This severe portrait is just about as true as the likeness of a man, -painted by a conscientious enemy, usually is. Radcliffe was not -endowed with a kindly nature. "Mead, I love you," said he to his -fascinating adulator; "and I'll tell you a sure secret to make your -fortune--use all mankind ill." Radcliffe carried out his rule by -wringing as much as possible from, and returning as little as possible -to, his fellowmen. He could not pay a tradesman's bill without a sense -of keen suffering. Even a poor pavior, who had been employed to do a -job to the stones before the doctor's house in Bloomsbury Square -(whither the physician removed from Bow Street), could not get his -money without a contest. "Why, you rascal!" cried the debtor, as he -alighted from his chariot, "do you pretend to be paid for such a piece -of work! Why, you have spoiled my pavement, and then covered it over -with earth to hide the bad work." - -"Doctor," responded the man, dryly, "mine is not the only bad work the -earth hides." - -Of course, the only course to pursue with a creditor who could dun in -this sarcastic style was to pay, and be rid of him. But the doctor -made up for his own avarice by being ever ready to condemn it in -others. - -Tyson, the miser, being near his last hour, magnanimously resolved to -pay two of his 3,000,000 guineas to Radcliffe, to learn if anything -could be done for his malady. The miserable old man came up with his -wife from Hackney, and tottered into the consulting-room in Bloomsbury -Square, with two guineas in his hand-- - -"You may go, sir," exclaimed Radcliffe, to the astonished wretch, who -trusted he was unknown--"you may go home, and die, and be ----, -without a speedy repentance; for both the grave and the devil are -ready for Tyson of Hackney, who has grown rich out of the spoils of -the public and the tears of orphans and widows. You'll be a dead man, -sir, in ten days." - -There are numerous stories extant relative to Radcliffe's practice; -but nearly all those which bear the stamp of genuineness are unfit for -publication in the present polite age. Such stories as the -hasty-pudding one, re-edited by the pleasant author of "The -Gold-headed Cane," can be found by the dozen, but the cumbrous -workmanship of Mr. Joseph Miller is manifest in them all. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -THE DOCTOR AS A BON-VIVANT. - - -"What must I do, sir!" inquired an indolent bon-vivant of Abernethy. - -"Live on sixpence a day, and earn it, sir," was the stern answer. - -Gabriel Fallopius, who has given his name to a structure with which -anatomists are familiar, gave the same reproof in a more delicate -manner. With a smile he replied in the words of Terence, - -"Otio abundas Antipho,"--"Sir, you're as lazy as Hall's dog." - -But, though medical practitioners have dealt in sayings like these, to -do them bare justice, it must be admitted that their preaching has -generally been contradicted by the practice. When medicine remained -very much in the hands of the ladies, the composition of remedies, and -the making of dinners, went on in the same apartment. Indeed hunger -and thirst were but two out of a list of diseases that were ministered -to by the attendants round a kitchen table. The same book held the -receipts for dishes and the recipes for electuaries. In many an old -hall of England the manual still remains from which three centuries -ago the lady of the house learned to dress a boar's head or cure a -cold. Most physicians would now disdain to give dietetic instruction -to a patient beyond the most general directions; but there are cases -where, even in these days, they stoop to do so, with advantage to -themselves and their patients. - -"I have ordered twelve dinners this morning," a cheery little doctor -said to the writer of these pages, on the white cliffs of a well-known -sea-side town. - -"Indeed--I did not know that was your business." - -"But it is. A host of rich old invalids come down here to be -medicinally treated. They can't be happy without good living, and yet -are so ignorant of the science and art of eating, that they don't know -how to distinguish between a luxurious and pernicious diet, and a -luxurious and wholesome one. They flock to the 'Duke's Hotel,' and I -always tell the landlord what they are to have. Each dinner costs -three or four guineas. They'd grudge them, and their consciences would -be uneasy at spending so much money, if they ordered their dinners -themselves. But when they regard the fare as medicine recommended by -the doctor, there is no drawback to their enjoyment of it. Their -confidence in me is unbounded." - -The bottle and the board were once the doctor's two favourite -companions. More than one eminent physician died in testifying his -affection for them. In the days of tippling they were the most -persevering of tavern-haunters. No wonder that some of them were as -fat as Daniel Lambert, and that even more died sudden deaths from -apoplexy. The obesity of Dr. Stafford was celebrated in an epitaph:-- - - "Take heed, O good traveller, and do not tread hard, - For here lies Dr. Stafford in all this churchyard." - -Dr. Beddoes was so stout that the Clifton ladies used to call him -their "walking feather-bed." - -Dr. Flemyng weighed twenty stone and eleven pounds, till he reduced -his weight by abstinence from the delicacies of the table, and by -taking a quarter of an ounce of common Castile soap every night. - -Dr. Cheyne's weight was thirty-two stone, till he cured himself by -persevering in a temperate diet. Laughing at two unwieldly noblemen -whose corpulence was the favourite jest of all the wits in the court, -Louis XV. said to one of them, "I suppose you take little or no -exercise." - -"Your Majesty will pardon me," replied the bulky duke, "for I -generally walk two or three times round my cousin every morning." - -Sir Theodore Mayerne, who, though he was the most eminent physician of -his time, did not disdain to write "Excellent and Well-Approved -Receipts in Cookery, with the best way of Preserving," was killed by -tavern wine. He died, after returning from supper in a Strand hotel; -his immediate friends attributing his unexpected death to the quality -of the beverage, but others, less charitable, setting it down to the -quantity. - -Not many years ago, about a score surgeons were dining together at a -tavern, when, about five minutes after some very "particular port" had -been sent round for the first time, they all fell back in their -chairs, afflicted in various degrees with sickness, vertigo, and -spasm. A more pleasant sight for the waiters can hardly be conceived. -One after one the gentlemen were conveyed to beds or sofas. -Unfortunately for the startling effect which the story would otherwise -have produced, they none of them expired. The next day they remembered -that, instead of relishing the "particular port," they had detected a -very unpleasant smack in it. The black bottles were demanded from the -trembling landlord, when chemical analysis soon discovered that they -had been previously used for fly-poison, and had not been properly -cleansed. A fine old crust of such a kind is little to be desired. - -It would perhaps have been well had old Butler (mentioned elsewhere in -these volumes) met with a similar mishap, if it had only made him a -less obstinate frequenter of beer-shops. He loved tobacco, deeming it - - "A physician - Good both for sound and sickly; - 'Tis a hot perfume - That expels cold Rheume, - And makes it flow down quickly." - -It is on record that he made one of his patients smoke twenty-five -pipes at a sitting. But fond though he was of tobacco, he was yet -fonder of beer. He invented a drink called "Butler's Ale," afterwards -sold at the Butler's Head, in Mason's Alley, Basinghall Street. -Indeed, he was a sad old scamp. Nightly he would go to the tavern, and -drink deeply for hours, till his maid-servant, old Nell, came between -nine and ten o'clock and _fetched_ him home, scolding him all the way -for being such a sot. But though Butler liked ale and wine for -himself, he thought highly of water for other people. When he occupied -rooms in the Savoy, looking over the Thames, a gentleman afflicted -with an ague came to consult him. Butler tipped the wink to his -servants, who flung the sick man, in the twinkling of an eye, slap out -of the window into the river. We are asked to believe that "the -surprise absolutely cured" the patient of his malady. - -The physicians of Charles the Second's day were jolly fellows. They -made deep drinking and intrigue part of their profession as well as of -their practice. Their books contain arguments in favour of indulgence, -which their passions suggested and the taste of the times approved. -Tobias Whitaker and John Archer, both physicians in ordinary to the -merry monarch, were representative men of their class. Whitaker, a -Norfolk man, practised with success at Norwich before coming up to -London. He published a discourse upon waters, that proved him very -ignorant on the subject; and a treatise on the properties of wine, -that is a much better testimony to the soundness of his understanding. -Prefixed to his "Elenchus of opinions on Small-Pox," is a portrait -that represents him as a well-looking fellow. That he was a sincere -and discerning worshipper of Bacchus, is shown by his "Tree of Humane -Life, or the Bloud of the Grape. Proving the possibilitie of -maintaining humane life from infancy to extreame old age without any -sicknesse by the use of Wine." In this work (sold, by the way, in the -author's shop, Pope's Head Alley) we read of wine,--"This is the -phisick that doth not dull, but sets a true edge upon nature, after -operation leaveth no venomous contact. Sure I am this was ancient -phisick, else what meant Avicenna, Rhasis, and Averroes, to move the -body twice every month with the same; as it is familiar to Nature, so -they used it familiarly. As for my own experience, though I have not -lived yet so long as to love excesse, yet have I seene such powerful -effects, both on my selfe and others, as if I could render no other -reason, they were enough to persuade me of its excellencie, seeing -extenuate withered bodies by it caused to be faire, fresh, plumpe, and -fat, old and infirme to be young and sound, when as water or -small-beer drinkers looke like apes rather than men." - -John Archer, the author of "Every Man his own Doctor," and "Secrets -Disclosed," was an advocate of generous diet and enlightened -sensuality. His place of business was "a chamber in a Sadler's howse -over against the Black Horse nigh Charing-cross," where his hours of -attendance for some years were from 11 A. M. to 5 P. M. each day. On -setting up a house at Knightsbridge, where he resided in great style, -he shortened the number of hours daily passed in London. In 1684 he -announced in one of his works--"For these and other Directions you may -send to the Author, at his chamber against the _Mews_ by -Charing-cross, who is certainly there from twelve to four, at other -times at his house at Knightsbridge, being a mile from Charing-cross, -where is good air for cure of consumptions, melancholy, and other -infirmities." He had also a business established in Winchester Street, -near Gresham College, next door to the _Fleece Tavern_. Indeed, -physician-in-ordinary to the King though he was, he did not think it -beneath him to keep a number of apothecaries' shops, and, like -Whitaker, to live by the sale of drugs as well as fees. His cordial -dyet drink was advertised as costing 2_s._ 6_d._ per quart; for a box -containing 30 morbus pills, the charge was 5_s._; 40 corroborating -pills were to be had for the same sum. Like Dr. Everard, he -recommended his patients to smoke, saying that "tobacco smoke purified -the air from infectious malignancy by its fragrancy, sweetened the -breath, strengthened the brain and memory, and revived the sight to -admiration." He sold tobacco, of a superior quality to the ordinary -article of commerce, at 2_s._ and 1_s._ an ounce. "The order of taking -it is like other tobacco at any time; its virtues may be perceived by -taking one pipe, after which you will spit more, and your mouth will -be dryer than after common tobacco, which you may moisten by drinking -any warm drink, as coffee, &c., or with sugar candy, liquorish, or a -raisin, and you will find yourself much refreshed." - -Whilst Whitaker and Archer were advising men to smoke and drink, -another physician of the Court was inventing a stomach-brush, in some -respects much like the bottle-brush with which fly-poison ought to be -taken from the interior of black bottles before wine is committed to -them. This instrument was pushed down the gullet, and then poked about -and turned round, much in the same way as a chimney-sweeper's brush is -handled by a dexterous operator on soot. It was recommended that -gentlemen should thus sweep out their insides not oftener than once a -week, but not less frequently than once a month. The curious may find -not only a detailed description but engraved likeness of this -remarkable stomach-brush in the _Gentleman's Magazine_, vol. xx., for -the year 1750. - -It would be unfair to take leave of Dr. Archer without mentioning his -three inventions, on which he justly prided himself not a little. He -constructed a hot steam-bath, an oven "which doth with a small faggot -bake a good quantity of anything," and "a compleat charriot that shall -with any ordinary horse run swift with four or five people within, and -there is place for more without, all which one horse can as easily -draw as two horses." In these days of vapour baths, bachelors' -kettles, and broughams, surely Dr. Archer ought to have a statue by -the side of Jenner in Trafalgar Square. - -The doctors of Anne's time were of even looser morals than their -immediate predecessors. In taverns, over wine, they received patients -and apothecaries. It became fashionable (a fashion that has lasted -down to the present day) for a physician to scratch down his -prescriptions illegibly; the mode, in all probability, arising from -the fact that a doctor's hand was usually too unsteady to write -distinctly. - -Freind continually visited his patients in a state of intoxication. To -one lady of high rank he came in such a state of confusion that when -in her room he could only grumble to himself, "Drunk--drunk--drunk, by -God!" Fortunately the fair patient was suffering from the same malady -as her doctor, who (as she learnt from her maid on returning to -consciousness) had made the above bluff comment on _her_ case, and -then had gone away. The next day, Freind was sitting in a penitent -state over his tea, debating what apology he should offer to his -aristocratic patient, when he was relieved from his perplexity by the -arrival of a note from the lady herself enclosing a handsome fee, -imploring her dear Dr. Freind to keep her secret, and begging him to -visit her during the course of the day. - -On another occasion Freind wrote a prescription for a member of an -important family, when his faculties were so evidently beyond his -control that Mead was sent for. On arriving, Mead, with a -characteristic delicacy towards his professional friend, took up the -tipsy man's prescription, and having looked at it, said, "'Pon my -honour, Dr. Freind can write a better prescription when drunk than I -can when sober." - -Gibbons--the "Nurse Gibbons" of our old friend Radcliffe--was a deep -drinker, disgusting, by the grossness of his debaucheries, the polite -and epicurean Garth. But Gibbons did something for English -dinner-tables worth remembering. He brought into domestic use the -mahogany with which we have so many pleasant associations. His -brother, a West Indian Captain, brought over some of the wood as -ballast, thinking it might possibly turn to use. At first the -carpenters, in a truly conservative spirit, refused to have anything -to do with the "new wood," saying it was too hard for their tools. Dr. -Gibbons, however, had first a candle-box and then a bureau made for -Mrs. Gibbons out of the condemned material. The bureau so pleased his -friends, amongst whom was the Duchess of Buckingham, that her Grace -ordered a similar piece of furniture, and introduced the wood into -high life, where it quickly became the fashion. - -Of Radcliffe's drunkenness mention is made elsewhere. As an eater, he -was a _gourmand_, not a _gourmet_. When Prince Eugene of Savoy came -over to England on a diplomatic mission, his nephew, the Chevalier de -Soissons, fell into the fashion of the town, roaming it at night in -search of frays--a roaring, swaggering mohock. The sprightly -Chevalier took it into his head that it would be a pleasant thing to -thrash a watchman; so he squared up to one, and threatened to kill -him. Instead of succumbing, the watchman returned his assailant's -blows, and gave him an awful thrashing. The next day, what with the -mauling he had undergone, and what with _delirium tremens_, the merry -roisterer was declared by his physician, Sieur Swartenburgh, to be in -a dying state. Radcliffe was called in, and acting on his almost -invariable rule, told Prince Eugene that the young man must die, -_because_ Swartenburgh had maltreated him. The prophecy was true, if -the criticism was not. The Chevalier died, and was buried amongst the -Ormond family in Westminster Abbey--it being given out to the public -that he had died of small-pox. - -Prince Eugene conceived a strong liking for Radcliffe, and dined with -him at the Doctor's residence. The dinner Radcliffe put before his -guest is expressive of the coarseness both of the times and the man. -On the table the only viands were barons of beef, jiggets of mutton, -legs of pork, and such other ponderous masses of butcher's stuff, -which no one can look at without discomfort, when the first edge has -been taken off the appetite. Prince Eugene expressed himself delighted -with "the food and liquors!" - -George Fordyce, like Radcliffe, was fond of substantial fare. For more -than twenty years he dined daily at Dolly's Chop-house. The dinner he -there consumed was his only meal during the four-and-twenty hours, but -its bulk would have kept a boa-constrictor happy for a twelvemonth. -Four o'clock was the hour at which the repast commenced, when, -punctual to a minute, the Doctor seated himself at a table specially -reserved for him, and adorned with a silver tankard of strong ale, a -bottle of port-wine, and a measure containing a quarter of a pint of -brandy. Before the dinner was first put on, he had one light dish of a -broiled fowl, or a few whitings. Having leisurely devoured this plate, -the doctor took one glass of brandy, and asked for his steak. The -steak was always a prime one, weighing one pound and a half. When the -man of science had eaten the whole of it, he took the rest of his -brandy, then drank his tankard of heady ale, and, lastly, sipped down -his bottle of port. Having brought his intellects, up or down, to the -standard of his pupils, he rose and walked down to his house in Essex -Street to give his six o'clock lecture on Chemistry. - -Dr. Beauford was another of the eighteenth-century physicians who -thought temperance a vice that hadn't even the recommendation of -transient pleasure. A Jacobite of the most enthusiastic sort, he was -not less than Freind a favourite with the aristocracy who countenanced -the Stuart faction. As he was known to be very intimate with Lord -Barrymore, the Doctor was summoned, in 1745, to appear before the -Privy-Council, and answer the questions of the custodians of his -Majesty's safety and honour. - -"You know Lord Barrymore?" said one of the Lords of Council. - -"Intimately--most intimately,"--was the answer. - -"You are continually with him?" - -"We dine together almost daily when his Lordship is in town." - -"What do you talk about?" - -"Eating and drinking." - -"And what else?" - -"Oh, my lord, we never talk of anything except eating and -drinking--drinking and eating." - -A good deal of treasonable sentiment might have been exchanged in -these discussions of eating and drinking. "God send this _crum-well -down_!" was the ordinary toast of the Cavalier during the glorious -Protectorate of Oliver. And long afterwards, English gentlemen of -Jacobite sympathies, drinking "to the King," before they raised the -glass to their lips, put it over the water-bottle, to indicate where -the King was whose prosperity they pledged. - -At the tavern in Finch Lane, where Beauford received the apothecaries -who followed him, he drank freely, but never was known to give a glass -from his bottle to one of his clients. In this respect he resembled -Dr. Gaskin of Plymouth, a physician in fine practice in Devonshire at -the close of the last century, who once said to a young beginner in -his profession, "Young man, when you get a fee, don't give fifteen -shillings of it back to your patient in beef and port-wine." - -Contemporary with Beauford was Dr. Barrowby--wit, scholar, political -partisan, and toper. Barrowby was the hero of an oft-told tale, -recently attributed in the newspapers to Abernethy. When canvassing -for a place on the staff of St. Bartholomew's Hospital, Barrowby -entered the shop of one of the governors, a grocer on Snow-hill, to -solicit his influence and vote. The tradesman, bursting with -importance, and anticipating the pleasure of getting a very low bow -from a gentleman, strutted up the shop, and, with a mixture of -insolent patronage and insulting familiarity, cried, "Well, friend, -and what is your business?" - -Barrowby paused for a minute, cut him right through with the glance of -his eye, and then said, quietly and slowly, "I want a pound of plums." - -Confused and blushing, the grocer did up the plums. Barrowby put them -in his pocket, and went away without asking the fellow for his vote. - -A good political story is told of Barrowby, the incident of which -occurred in 1749, eleven years after his translation of Astruc's -"Treatise" appeared. Lord Trentham (afterwards Lord Gower) and Sir -George Vandeput were contesting the election for Westminster. -Barrowby, a vehement supporter of the latter, was then in attendance -on the notorious Joe Weatherby, master of the "Ben Jonson's Head," in -Russell Street, who lay in a perilous state, emaciated by nervous -fever. Mrs. Weatherby was deeply afflicted at her husband's condition, -because it rendered him unable to vote for Lord Trentham. Towards the -close of the polling days the Doctor, calling one day on his patient, -to his great astonishment found him up, and almost dressed by the -nurse and her assistants. - -"Hey-day! what's the cause of this?" exclaims Barrowby. "Why are you -up without my leave?" - -"Dear Doctor," says Joe, in a broken voice, "I am going to poll." - -"To poll!" roars Barrowby, supposing the man to hold his wife's -political opinions, "you mean going to the devil! Get to bed, man, the -cold air will kill you. If you don't get into bed instantly you'll be -dead before the day is out." - -"I'll do as you bid me, doctor," was the reluctant answer. "But as my -wife was away for the morning, I thought I could get as far as Covent -Garden Church, and vote for Sir George Vandeput." - -"How, Joe, for Sir George?" - -"Oh, yes, sir, I don't go with my wife. I am a Sir George's man." - -Barrowby was struck by a sudden change for the better in the man's -appearance, and said, "Wait a minute, nurse. Don't pull off his -stockings. Let me feel his pulse. Humph--a good firm stroke! You took -the pills I ordered you?" - -"Yes, sir, but they made me feel very ill." - -"Ay, so much the better; that's what I wished. Nurse, how did he -sleep?" - -"Charmingly, sir." - -"Well, Joe," said Barrowby, after a few seconds' consideration, "if -you are bent on going to this election, your mind ought to be set at -rest. It's a fine sunny day, and a ride will very likely do you good. -So, bedad, I'll take you with me in my chariot." - -Delighted with his doctor's urbanity, Weatherby was taken off in the -carriage to Covent Garden, recorded his vote for Sir George Vandeput, -was brought back in the same vehicle, and died _two_ hours afterwards, -amidst the reproaches of his wife and her friends of the Court party. - -Charles the Second was so impressed with the power of the Medical -Faculty in influencing the various intrigues of political parties, -that he averred that Dr. Lower, Nell Gwynn's physician, did more -mischief than a troop of horse. But Barrowby was prevented, by the -intrusion of death, from rendering effectual service to his party. -Called away from a dinner-table, where he was drinking deeply and -laughing much, to see a patient, he got into his carriage, and was -driven off. When the footman opened the door, on arriving at the house -of sickness, he found his master dead. A fit of apoplexy had struck -him down, whilst he was still a young man, and just as he was -ascending to the highest rank of his profession. - -John Sheldon was somewhat addicted to the pleasures of the table. On -one occasion, however, he had to make a journey fasting. The son of a -John Sheldon, an apothecary who carried on business in the Tottenham -Court Road, a few doors from the Black Horse Yard, Sheldon conceived -in early life a strong love for mechanics. At Harrow he was birched -for making a boat and floating it. In after life he had a notable -scheme for taking whales with poisoned harpoons; and, to test its -merit, actually made a voyage to Greenland. He was moreover the first -Englishman to make an ascent in a balloon. He went with Blanchard, and -had taken his place in the car, when the aeronaut, seeing that his -machine was too heavily weighted, begged him to get out. - -"If you are my friend, you will alight. My fame, my all, depends on -success," exclaimed Blanchard. - -"I won't," bluntly answered Sheldon, as the balloon manifested -symptoms of rising. - -In a furious passion, the little air-traveller exclaimed, "Then I -starve you! Point du chicken, by Gar, you shall have no chicken." So -saying, he flung the hamper of provisions out of the car, and, thus -lightened, the balloon went up. - -Abernethy is said to have reproved an over-fed alderman for his -excesses at table in the following manner. The civic footman was -ordered to put a large bowl under the sideboard, and of whatever he -served his master with to throw the same quantity into the bowl as he -put on the gourmand's plate. After the repast was at an end, the sated -feaster was requested to look into the bowl at a nauseous mess of mock -turtle, turbot, roast-beef, turkey, sausages, cakes, wines, ale, -fruits, cheese. - -Sir Richard Jebb showed little favour to the digestion thinking it was -made to be used--not nursed. Habitually more rough and harsh than -Abernethy in his most surly moods, Jebb offended many of his patients. -"That's _my_ way," said he to a noble invalid, astonished at his -rudeness. "Then," answered the sick man, pointing to the door, "I beg -you'll make that your way." - -To all questions about diet Jebb would respond tetchily or carelessly. - -"Pray, Sir Richard, may I eat a muffin?" asked a lady. - -"Yes, madam, 'tis the _best_ thing you can take." - -"Oh, dear! Sir Richard, I am glad of that. The other day you said it -was the worst thing in the world for me." - -"Good, madam, I said so last Tuesday. This isn't a Tuesday--is it?" - -To another lady who asked what she might eat he said contemptuously, -"Boiled turnips." - -"Boiled turnips!" was the answer; "you forget, Sir Richard--I told you -I could not bear boiled turnips." - -"Then, madam," answered Sir Richard, sternly, as if his sense of the -moral fitness of things was offended, "you must have a d----d vitiated -appetite." - -Sir Richard's best set of dietetic directions consisted of the -following negative advice, given to an old gentleman who put the -everlasting question, "What may I eat?" "My directions, sir, are -simple. You must not eat the poker, shovel, or tongs, for they are -hard of digestion; nor the bellows; but anything else you please." - -Even to the King, Sir Richard was plain-spoken. George the Third -lamented to him the restless spirit of his cousin, Dr. John Jebb, the -dissenting minister. "And please your Majesty," was the answer, "if my -cousin were in heaven he would be a reformer." - -Dr. Babington used to tell a story of an Irish gentleman, for whom he -prescribed an emetic, saying, "My dear doctor, it is of no use your -giving me an emetic. I tried it twice in Dublin, and it would not stay -on my stomach either time." Jebb's stomach would have gone on -tranquilly, even when entertaining an emetic. - -Jebb, with all his bluntness, was a mean lover of the atmosphere of -the Court. His income was subject to great fluctuations, as the whims -of his fashionable employers ran for or against him. Sir Edward -Wilmont's receipts sank from L3000 to L300, in consequence of his -having lost two ladies of quality at the Court. Jebb's revenue never -varied so much as this, but the L15,000 (the greatest sum he ever made -in one year) often fell off by thousands. This fact didn't tend to -lessen his mortification at the loss of a great patient. When George -the Third dismissed him, and took Sir George Baker in his place, he -nearly died of chagrin. And when he was recalled to attend the royal -family in the measles, he nearly died of delight. This ruling passion -exhibited itself strongly in death. When he was on his death-bed, the -Queen, by the hand of a German lady, wrote to inquire after his -condition. So elated was the poor man with this act of royal -benignity, that he grasped the letter, and never let go his hold of it -till the breath of life quitted his attenuated body. - -This chapter has been for the most part on the feasting of physicians. -We'll conclude it with a few words on their fasts. In the house of a -Strand grocer there used to be a scientific club, of which the -principal members were--W. Heberden, M.D., J. Turton, M.D., G. Baker, -M.D., Sir John Pringle, Sir William Watson, and Lord C. Cavendish who -officiated as president. Each member paid sixpence per evening for the -use of the grocer's dining-room. The club took in one newspaper, and -the only refreshment allowed to be taken at the place of meeting -was--water. - -The most abstemious of eminent physicians was Sir Hans Sloane, the -president of the Royal Society and of the College of Physicians, and -(in a certain sense) the founder of the British Museum. A love of -money made him a hater of all good things, except money and his -museum. He gave up his winter soirees in Bloomsbury Square, in order -to save his tea and bread and butter. At one of these scientific -entertainments Handel offended the scientific knight deeply by laying -a muffin on one of his books. "To be sure it was a gareless trick," -said the composer, when telling the story, "bud it tid no monsdrous -mischief; pode it but the old poog-vorm treadfully oud of sorts. I -offered my best apologies, but the old miser would not have done with -it. If it had been a biscuit, it would not have mattered; but muffin -and pudder. And I said, _Ah, mine Gotd, that is the rub!--it is the -pudder!_ Now, mine worthy friend, Sir Hans Sloane, you have a nodable -excuse, you may save your doast and pudder, and lay it to that -unfeeling gormandizing German; and den I knows it will add something -to your life by sparing your _burse_." - -The eccentric Dr. Glyn of Cambridge, rarely dined, but used to satisfy -his hunger at chance times by cutting slices off a cold joint (a -constant ornament of the side-table in his study), and eating them -while standing. To eat such a dinner in such an attitude would be to -fare little better than the ascetic physician who used twice a week to -dine off two Abernethy biscuits, consumed as he walked at the pace of -four miles an hour. However wholesome they may be, the hard biscuits, -known as Abernethies (but in the construction of which, by-the-by, -Abernethy was no more concerned than were Wellington and Blucher in -making the boots that bear their names), are not convivial cates, -though one would rather have to consume them than the calomel -sandwiches which Dr. Curry (popularly called Dr. Calomel Curry) used -to give his patients. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -FEES. - - -From the earliest times the Leech (Leighis), or healer, has found, in -the exercise of his art, not only a pleasant sense of being a public -benefactor, but also the means of private advancement. The use the -churchmen made of their medical position throughout Christendom (both -before and after that decree of the council of Tours, A.D. 1163, which -forbade priests and deacons to perform surgical operations in which -cauteries and incisions were employed), is attested by the broad acres -they extracted, for their religious corporations, as much from the -gratitude as from the superstition of their patients. And since the -Reformation, from which period the vocations of the spiritual and the -bodily physician have been almost entirely kept apart, the -practitioners of medicine have had cause to bless the powers of -sickness. A good story is told of Arbuthnot. When he was a young man -(ere he had won the patronage of Queen Anne, and the friendship of -Swift and Pope), he settled at Dorchester, and endeavoured to get -practice in that salubrious town. Nature obviated his good intentions: -he wished to minister to the afflicted, if they were rich enough to -pay for his ministrations, but the place was so healthy that it -contained scarce half-a-dozen sick inhabitants. Arbuthnot determined -to quit a field so ill-adapted for a display of his philanthropy. -"Where are you off to?" cried a friend, who met him riding post -towards London. "To leave your confounded place," was the answer, "for -a man can neither live nor die there." But to arrive at wealth was not -amongst Arbuthnot's faculties; he was unable to use his profession as -a trade; and only a few weeks before his death he wrote, "I am as well -as a man can be who is gasping for breath, and has a house full of men -and women unprovided for." - -Arbuthnot's ill-luck, however, was quite out of the ordinary rule. -Fuller says (1662), "Physic hath promoted many more, and that since -the reign of King Henry VIII. Indeed, before his time, I find a doctor -of physic, father to Reginald, first and last Lord Bray. But this -faculty hath flourished much the three last fifty years; it being true -of physic, what is said of Sylla, 'suos divitiis explevit.' Sir -William Butts, physician to King Henry VIII., Doctor Thomas Wendy, and -Doctor Hatcher, Queen Elizabeth's physician, raised worshipful -families in Norfolk, Cambridge, and Lincolnshire, having borne the -office of Sheriff in this county." Sir William Butts was rewarded for -his professional services by Henry VIII. with the honour of -Knighthood, and he attended that sovereign when the royal confirmation -was given, in 1512, to the charter of the barber-surgeons of London. -Another eminent physician of the same period, who also arrived at the -dignity of knighthood, was John Ayliffe, a sheriff of London, and -merchant of Blackwell-Hall. His epitaph records:-- - - "In surgery brought up in youth, - A knight here lieth dead; - A knight and eke a surgeon, such - As England seld' hath bred. - - "For which so sovereign gift of God, - Wherein he did excell, - King Henry VIII. called him to court, - Who loved him dearly well. - - "King Edward, for his service sake, - Bade him rise up a knight; - A name of praise, and ever since - He Sir John Ayliffe hight." - -This mode of rewarding medical services was not unfrequent in those -days, and long before. Ignorance as to the true position of the barber -in the middle ages has induced the popular and erroneous belief that -the barber-surgeon had in olden times a contemptible social status. -Unquestionably his art has been elevated during late generations to a -dignity it did not possess in feudal life; but it might be argued with -much force, that the reverse has been the case with regard to his -rank. Surgery and medicine were arts that nobles were proud to -practise for honour, and not unfrequently for emolument. The reigns of -Elizabeth and her three predecessors in sovereign power abounded in -medical and surgical amateurs. Amongst the fashionable empirics -Bulleyn mentions Sir Thomas Elliot, Sir Philip Paris, Sir William -Gasgoyne, Lady Taylor and Lady Darrel, and especially that "goodly -hurtlesse Gentleman, Sir Andrew Haveningham, who learned water to kill -a canker of his own mother." Even an Earl of Derby, about this time, -was celebrated for his skill in _chirurgerie_ and _bone-setting_, as -also was the Earl of Herfurth. The Scots nobility were enthusiastic -dabblers in such matters; and we have the evidence of Buchanan and -Lindsay as to James IV. of Scotland, "quod vulnera scientissime -tractaret," to use the former authority's words, and in the language -of the latter, that he was "such a _cunning chirurgeon_, that none in -his realm who used that craft but would take his counsel in all their -proceedings." The only art which fashionable people now-a-days care -much to meddle with is literature. In estimating the difference -between the position of an eminent surgeon now, and that which he -would have occupied in earlier times, we must remember that life and -hereditary knighthood are the highest dignities to which he is now -permitted to aspire; although since this honour was first accorded to -him it has so fallen in public estimation, that it has almost ceased -to be an honour at all. It can scarcely be questioned that if Sir -Benjamin Brodie were to be elevated to the rank of a Baron of the -realm, he would still not occupy a better position, in regard to the -rest of society, than that which Sir William Butts and Sir John -Ayliffe did after they were knighted. A fact that definitely fixes the -high esteem in which Edward III. held his medical officers, is one of -his grants--"Quod Willielmus Holme Sirurgicus Regis pro vita sua -possit, fugare, capere, et asportare omnimodas feras in quibuscunque -forestis, chaccis parcis et warrennis regis." Indeed, at a time when -the highest dignitaries of the Church, the proudest bishops and the -wealthiest abbots, practised as physicians, it followed, as a matter -of course, that everything pertaining to their profession was -respected. - -From remote antiquity the fee of the healer has been regarded as a -voluntary offering for services gratuitously rendered. The pretender -to the art always stuck out for a price, and in some form or other -made the demand which was imprinted on the pillboxes of Lilly's -successor, John Case, - - "Here's fourteen pills for thirteen pence, - Enough in any man's own con-sci-ence." - -But the true physician always left his reward to be measured by the -gratitude and justice of the benefited. He extorted nothing, but -freely received that which was freely given. Dr. Doran, with his -characteristic erudition, says, "Now there is a religious reason why -fees are supposed not to be taken by physicians. Amongst the Christian -martyrs are reckoned the two eastern brothers, Damian and Cosmas. They -practised as physicians in Cilicia, and they were the first mortal -practitioners who refused to take recompense for their work. Hence -they were called Anargyri, or 'without money.' All physicians are -pleasantly supposed to follow this example. They never take fees, like -Damian and Cosmas; but they meekly receive what they know will be -given out of Christian humility, and with a certain or uncertain -reluctance, which is the nearest approach that can be made in these -times to the two brothers who were in partnership at Egea in Cilicia." - -But, with all due respect to our learned writer, there is a much -better reason for the phenomenon. Self-interest, and not a Christian -ambition to resemble the charitable Cilician brothers, was the cause -of physicians preferring a system of gratuities to a system of legal -rights. They could scarcely have put in _a claim_ without defining the -_amount claimed_; and they soon discovered that a rich patient, left -to his generosity, folly, and impotent anxiety to propitiate the -mysterious functionary who presided over his life, would, in a great -majority of cases, give ten, or even a hundred times as much as they -in the wildest audacity of avarice would ever dare to ask for. - -Seleucus, for having his son Antiochus restored to health, was fool -enough to give sixty thousand crowns to Erasistratus: and for their -attendance on the Emperor Augustus, and his two next successors, no -less than four physicians received annual pensions of two hundred and -fifty thousand sesterces apiece. Indeed, there is no saying what a -sick man will not give his doctor. The "cacoethes donandi" is a -manifestation of enfeebled powers which a high-minded physician is -often called upon to resist, and an unprincipled one often basely -turns to his advantage. Alluding to this feature of the sick, a -deservedly successful and honourable practitioner, using the language -of one of our Oriental pro-consuls, said with a laugh to the writer of -these pages, "I wonder at my moderation." - -But directly health approaches, this desirable frame of mind -disappears. When the devil was sick he was a very different character -from what he was on getting well. 'Tis so with ordinary patients, not -less than satanic ones. The man who, when he is in his agonies, gives -his medical attendant double fees three times a day (and vows, please -God he recover, to make his fortune by trumpeting his praises to the -world), on becoming convalescent, grows irritable, suspicious, and -distant,--and by the time he can resume his customary occupations, -looks on his dear benefactor and saviour as a designing rascal, bent -on plundering him of his worldly possessions. Euricus Cordus, who died -in 1535, seems to have taken the worst possible time for getting his -payment; but it cannot be regretted that he did so, as his experiences -inspired him to write the following excellent epigram:-- - - "Tres medicus facies habet; unam quando rogatur, - Angelicam; mox est, cum juvat, ipse Deus. - Post ubi curato, poscit sua proemia, morbo, - Horridus apparet, terribilisque Sathan." - - "Three faces wears the doctor: when first sought, - An angel's--and a God's the cure half wrought: - But when, that cure complete, he seeks his fee, - The Devil looks then less terrible than he." - -Illustrative of the same truth is a story told of Bouvart. On entering -one morning the chamber of a French Marquis, whom he had attended -through a very dangerous illness, he was accosted by his noble patient -in the following terms:-- - -"Good day to you, Mr. Bouvart; I feel quite in spirits, and think my -fever has left me." - -"I am sure it has," replied Bouvart, dryly. "The very first expression -you used convinced me of it." - -"Pray, explain yourself." - -"Nothing is easier. In the first days of your illness, when your life -was in danger, I was your _dearest friend_; as you began to get -better, I was your _good Bouvart_; and now I am Mr. Bouvart: depend -upon it you are quite recovered." - -In fact, the affection of a patient for his physician is very like the -love a candidate for a borough has for an individual elector--he is -very grateful to him, till he has got all he wants out of him. The -medical practitioner is unwise not to recognize this fact. Common -prudence enjoins him to act as much as possible on the maxim of -"accipe dum dolet"--"take your fee while your patient is in pain." - -But though physicians have always held themselves open to take as much -as they can get, their ordinary remuneration has been fixed in divers -times by custom, according to the locality of their practice, the rank -of their patients, the nature of the particular services rendered, and -such other circumstances. In China the rule is "no cure, no pay," save -at the Imperial court, where the physicians have salaries that are cut -off during the continuance of royal indisposition. For their sakes it -is to be hoped that the Emperor is a temperate man, and does not -follow the example of George the Fourth, who used to drink Maraschino -between midnight and four o'clock in the morning; and then, when he -awoke with a furred tongue, from disturbed sleep, used to put himself -under the hands of his doctors. Formerly the medical officers of the -English monarch were paid by salary, though doubtless they were -offered, and were not too proud to accept, fees as well. Coursus de -Gungeland, Edward the Third's apothecary, had a pension of sixpence -a-day--a considerable sum at that time; and Ricardus Wye, the surgeon -of the same king, had twelve-pence a day, and eight marks per annum. -"Duodecim denarios per diem, et octo marcas per annum, pro vadiis suis -pro vita." In the royal courts of Wales, also, the fees of surgeons -and physicians were fixed by law--a surgeon receiving, as payment for -curing a slight wound, only the blood-stained garments of the injured -person; but for healing a dangerous wound he had the bloody apparel, -his board and lodging during the time his services were required, and -one hundred and eighty pence. - -At a very early period in England a doctor looked for his palm to be -crossed with gold, if his patient happened to be a man of condition. -In Henry VIII.'s reign a Cambridge physician was presented by the Earl -of Cumberland with a fee of L1--but this was at least double what a -commoner would then have paid. Stow complains that while in Holland -half-a-crown was looked upon as a proper remuneration for a single -visit paid by a skilled physician, the medical practitioners of London -scorned "to touch any metal but gold." - -It is no matter of uncertainty what the physician's ordinary fee was -at the close of the sixteenth and the commencement of the seventeenth -century. It was ten shillings, as is certified by the following -extract from "Physick lies a-bleeding: the Apothecary turned -Doctor"--published in 1697:-- - -"_Gallipot_--Good sir, be not so unreasonably passionate and I'll tell -you. Sir, the Pearl Julep will be 6_s._ 8_d._, Pearls being dear since -our clipt money was bought. The Specific Bolus, 4_s._ 6_d._, I never -reckon less; my master in Leadenhall Street never set down less, be it -what it would. The Antihysterick Application 3_s._ 6_d._ (a common one -is but 2_s._ 6_d._), and the Anodyne Draught 3_s._ 4_d._--that's all, -sir; a small matter and please you, sir, for your lady. My fee is what -you please, sir. All the bill is _but_ 18_s._ - -"_Trueman_--Faith, then, d'ye make a _but_ at it? I do suppose, to be -very genteel, I must give you a crown. - -"_Gallipot_--If your worship please; I take it to be a fair and an -honest bill. - -"_Trueman_--Do you indeed? But I wish you had called a doctor, perhaps -he would have advised her to have forebore taking anything, as yet at -least, so I had saved 13_s._ in my pocket." - -"Physick lies a-bleeding" was written during the great Dispensarian -War, which is touched upon in another part of these pages; and its -object was to hold up physicians as models of learning and probity, -and to expose the extortionate practices of the apothecaries. It must -therefore be read with caution, and with due allowance for the license -of satire, and the violence of a party statement. But the statement -that 10_s._ was the _customary_ fee is clearly one that may be -accepted as truthful. Indeed, the unknown and needy doctors were glad -to accept less. The author of "The Dispensarians are the Patriots of -Britain," published in 1708, represents the humbler physicians being -nothing better than the slaves of the opulent apothecaries, accepting -half their right fee, and taking instead 25 or 50 per cent. of the -amount paid for drugs to the apothecary. "They (the powerful -traders)," says the writer, "offered the Physicians 5_s._ and 10_s._ -in the pound, to excite their industry to prescribe the larger -abundance to all the disorders." - -But physicians daily received more than their ten shillings at a time. -In confirmation of this, a good anecdote may be related of Sir -Theodore Mayerne. Sir Theodore Mayerne, a native of Geneva, was -physician to Henry IV. and Louis XIII. of France, and subsequently to -James I., Charles I., and Charles II. of England. As a physician, who -had the honour of attending many crowned heads, he ranks above Caius, -who was physician to Edward VI., Mary, and Elizabeth--Ambrose Pare, -the inventor of ligatures for severed arteries, who was physician and -surgeon to Henry II., Francis II., Charles IX., and Henry III. of -France--and Sir Henry Halford, who attended successively George III., -George IV., William IV., and Victoria. It is told of Sir Theodore, -that when a friend, after consulting him, foolishly put two broad gold -pieces (six-and-thirty shillings each) on the table, he quietly -pocketed them. The patient, who, as a friend, expected to have his fee -refused, and therefore (deeming it well to indulge in the magnificence -of generosity when it would cost him nothing) had absurdly exhibited -so large a sum, did not at all relish the sight of its being netted. -His countenance, if not his tongue, made his mortification manifest. -"Sir," said Sir Theodore, "I made my will this morning; and if it -should appear that I refused a fee, I might be deemed _non compos_." - -The "Levamen Infirmi," published in 1700, shows that a century had -not, at that date, made much difference in the scale of remuneration -accorded to surgeons and physicians. "To a graduate in physick," this -authority states, "his due is about ten shillings, though he commonly -expects or demands twenty. Those that are only licensed physicians, -their due is no more than six shillings and eight-pence, though they -commonly demand ten shillings. A surgeon's fee is twelve-pence a mile, -be his journey far or near; ten groats to set a bone broke, or out of -joint; and for letting blood one shilling; the cutting off or -amputation of any limb is five pounds, but there is no settled price -for the cure." These charges are much the same as those made at the -present day by country surgeons to their less wealthy patients, with -the exception of a fee for setting a bone, or reducing a dislocation, -which is absurdly out of proportion to the rest of the sums mentioned. - -Mr William Wadd, in his very interesting "Memorabilia," states, that -the physicians who attended Queen Caroline had five hundred guineas, -and the surgeons three hundred guineas each; and that Dr. Willis was -rewarded for his successful attendance on his Majesty King George -III., by L1500 per annum for twenty years, and L650 per annum to his -son for life. The other physicians, however, had only thirty guineas -each visit to Windsor, and ten guineas each visit to Kew. - -These large fees put us in mind of one that ought to have been paid to -Dr. King for his attendance on Charles the Second. Evelyn -relates--"1685, Feb. 4, I went to London, hearing his Majesty had ben, -the Monday before (2 Feb.), surprised in his bed-chamber with an -apoplectic fit; so that if, by God's providence, Dr King (that -excellent chirurgeon as well as physitian) had not been actually -present, to let his bloud (having his lancet in his pocket), his -Majesty had certainly died that moment, which might have ben of -direful consequence, there being nobody else present with the king -save this doctor and one more, as I am assured. It was a mark of the -extraordinary dexterity, resolution, and presence of mind in the Dr -to let him bloud in the very paroxysm, without staying the coming of -other physicians, which regularly should have ben done, and for want -of which he must have a regular pardon, as they tell me." For this -promptitude and courage the Privy-Council ordered L1000 to be given to -Dr. King--but he never obtained the money. - -In a more humourous, but not less agreeable manner, Dr. Hunter (John -Hunter's brother), was disappointed of payment for his professional -services. On a certain occasion he was suffering under such severe -indisposition that he was compelled to keep his bed, when a lady -called and implored to be admitted to his chamber for the benefit of -his advice. After considerable resistance on the part of the servants, -she obtained her request; and the sick physician, sitting up in his -bed, attended to her case, and prescribed for it. "What is your fee, -sir?" the lady asked when the work was done. The doctor, with the -prudent delicacy of his order, informed his patient that it was a rule -with him never to fix his fee; and, on repeated entreaty that he would -depart from his custom, refused to do so. On this the lady rose from -her seat, and courteously thanking the doctor, left him--not a little -annoyed at the result of his squeamishness or artifice. - -This puts us in mind of the manner in which an eminent surgeon not -long since was defrauded of a fee, under circumstances that must rouse -the indignation of every honourable man against the delinquent. Mr. ----- received, in his consulting room, a gentleman of military and -prepossessing exterior, who, after detailing the history of his -sufferings, implored the professional man he addressed to perform for -him a certain difficult and important operation. The surgeon -consented, and on being asked what remuneration he would require, said -that his fee was a hundred guineas. - -"Sir," replied the visitor with some embarrassment, "I am very sorry -to hear you say so. I feel sure my case without you will terminate -fatally; but I am a poor half-pay officer, in pecuniary difficulties, -and I could not, even if it were to save my soul, raise half the sum -you mention." - -"My dear sir," responded the surgeon frankly, and with the generosity -which is more frequently found amongst medical practitioners than any -other class of men, "don't then disturb yourself. I cannot take a less -fee than I have stated, for my character demands that I should not -have two charges, but I am at liberty to remit my fee altogether. -Allow me, then, the very great pleasure of attending a retired officer -of the British army gratuitously." - -This kindly offer was accepted. Mr. ---- not only performed the -operation, but visited his patient daily for more than three weeks -without ever accepting a guinea--and three months after he had -restored the sick man to health, discovered that, instead of being in -necessitous circumstances, he was a magistrate and deputy-lieutenant -for his county, and owner of a fine landed estate. - -"And, by ----!" exclaimed the fine-hearted surgeon--when he narrated -this disgraceful affair, "I'll act exactly in the same way to the next -poor man who gives me his _word of honour_ that he is not rich enough -to pay me." - -The success of Sir Astley Cooper was beyond that of any medical -practitioner of modern times; but it came very gradually. His earnings -for the first nine years of his professional career progressed -thus:--In the first year he netted five guineas; in the second, -twenty-six pounds; in the third, sixty-four pounds; in the fourth, -ninety-six pounds; in the fifth, a hundred pounds; in the sixth, two -hundred pounds; in the seventh, four hundred pounds; in the eighth, -six hundred and ten pounds; and in the ninth, the year in which he -secured his hospital appointment, eleven hundred pounds. But the time -came when the patients stood for hours in his ante-rooms waiting to -have an interview with the great surgeon, and after all, their -patients were dismissed without being admitted to the consulting-room. -Sir Astley's man, Charles, with all the dignity that became so eminent -a man's servant, used to say to these disappointed applicants, in a -tone of magnificent patronage, when they reappeared the next morning -after their effectless visit, "I am not at all sure that _we_ shall be -able to attend to-day to you, gentlemen, for _we_ are excessively -busy, and our list is perfectly full for the day; but if you'll wait I -will see what can be done for you!" - -The highest amount that Sir Astley received in any one year was -L21,000. This splendid income was an exceptional one. For many years, -however, he achieved more than L15,000 per annum. As long as he lived -in the City after becoming celebrated he made an enormous, but -fluctuating, revenue, the state of the money-market having an almost -laughable effect on the size of the fees paid him. The capitalists -who visited the surgeon in Broad Street, in three cases out of four, -paid in cheques, and felt it beneath their dignity to put pen to paper -for a smaller sum than five guineas. After Sir Astley moved to the -West End he had a more numerous and at the same time more aristocratic -practice; but his receipts were never so much as they were when he -dwelt within the Lord Mayor's jurisdiction. His more distinguished -patients invariably paid their guineas in cash, and many of them did -not consider it inconsistent with patrician position to give single -fees. The citizens were the fellows to pay. Mr. William Coles, of -Mincing Lane, for a long period paid Sir Astley L600 a year, the -visits of the latter being principally made to Mr. Cole's seat near -Croydon. Another "City man," who consulted the surgeon in Broad -Street, and departed without putting down any honorarium whatever, -sent a cheque for L63 10_s._, with the following characteristic -note:-- - -"DEAR SIR--When I had first the pleasure of seeing you, you requested, -as a favour, that I would consider your visit on the occasion as a -friend. I now, sir, must request you will return the compliment by -accepting the enclosed draft as an act of friendship. It is the profit -on L2000 of the ensuing loan, out of a small sum Sir F. Baring had -given, of appropriating for your chance." - -The largest fee Sir Astley Cooper ever received was paid him by a West -Indian millionaire named Hyatt. This gentleman having occasion to -undergo a painful and perilous operation, was attended by Drs. Lettsom -and Nelson as physicians, and Sir Astley as chirurgeon. The wealthy -patient, his treatment having resulted most successfully, was so -delighted that he fee'd his physicians with 300 guineas each. "But -you, sir," cried the grateful old man, sitting up in his bed, and -speaking to his surgeon, "shall have something better. There, -sir--take _that_." The _that_ was the convalescent's night-cap, which -he flung at the dexterous operator. "Sir," replied Sir Astley, picking -up the cap, "I'll pocket the affront." It was well he did so, for on -reaching home he found in the cap a draft for 1000 guineas. This story -has been told in various ways, but all its tellers agree as to the -amount of the prize. - -Catherine, the Empress of Russia, was even more munificent than the -West Indian planter. When Dr. Dimsdale, for many years a Hertford -physician, and subsequently the parliamentary representative of that -borough, went over to Russia and inoculated the Empress and her son, -in the year 1768, he was rewarded with a fee of L12,000, a pension for -life of L500 per annum, and the rank of Baron of the Empire. But if -Catherine paid thus handsomely for increased security of life, a -modern emperor of Austria put down a yet more royal fee for his -death-warrant. When on his death-bed the Emperor Joseph asked Quarin -his opinion of his case, the physician told the monarch that he could -not possibly live forty-eight hours. In acknowledgment of this frank -declaration of the truth, the Emperor created Quarin a Baron, and gave -him a pension of more than L2000 per annum to support the rank with. - -A goodly collection might be made of eccentric fees given to the -practitioners of the healing art. William Butler, who, in his -moroseness of manner, was the prototype of Abernethy, found (_vide_ -Fuller's "English Worthies") more pleasure in "presents than money; -loved what was pretty rather than what was costly; and preferred -rarities to riches." The number of physicians is large who have won -the hands of heiresses in the discharge of their professional -avocations. But of them we purpose to speak at length hereafter. -Joshua Ward, the Thames Street drysalter, who made a fortune by his -"Drop and Pill," - - "Of late, without the least pretence to skill, - Ward's grown a famed physician by a pill," - -was so successfully puffed by Lord Chief Baron Reynolds and General -Churchill, that he was called in to prescribe for the king. The royal -malady disappeared in consequence, or in spite, of the treatment; and -Ward was rewarded with a solemn vote of the House of Commons, -protecting him from the interdictions of the College of Physicians; -and, as an additional fee, he asked for, and obtained, the privilege -of driving his carriage through St. James's Park. - -The pertinacity with which the members of the medical profession cling -to the shilling of "the guinea" is amusing. When Erskine used to order -"The Devil's Own" to _charge_, he would cry out "Six-and-eightpence!" -instead of the ordinary word of command. Had his Lordship been colonel -of a volunteer corps of physicians, he would have roused them to an -onward march by "A guinea!" Sometimes patients object to pay the extra -shilling over the sovereign, not less than their medical advisers -insist on having it. "We surgeons do things by guineas," we recollect -a veteran hospital surgeon saying to a visitor who had put down the -largest current gold piece of our present coinage. The patient (an -irritable old gentleman) made it a question of principle; he hated -humbug--he regarded "that shilling" as sheer humbug, and he would not -pay it. A contest ensued, which terminated in the eccentric patient -paying, not the shilling, but an additional sovereign. And to this day -he is a frequent visitor of our surgical ally, and is well content to -pay his two sovereigns, though he would die rather than countenance "a -sham" by putting down "a guinea." - -But of all the stories told of surgeons who have grown fat at the -expense of the public, the best is the following one, for which Mr. -Alexander Kellet, who died at his lodgings in Bath, in the year 1788 -is our authority. A certain French surgeon residing in Georgia was -taken prisoner by some Indians, who having acquired from the French -the art of larding their provisions, determined to lard this -particular Frenchman, and then roast him alive. During the culinary -process, when the man was half larded, the operators were surprised by -the enemy, and their victim, making his escape, lived many days in the -woods on the bacon he had in his skin. - -If full reliance may be placed on the following humorous verses, it is -not unknown for a physician to be paid in commodities, without the -intervention of the circulating medium, or the receipt of such -creature comforts as Johnson's friendly apothecary was wont to accept -in lieu of cash:-- - - "An adept in the sister arts, - Painter, poet, and musician, - Employ'd a doctor of all parts, - Druggist, surgeon, and physician. - - "The artist with M.D. agrees, - If he'd attend him when he grew sick, - Fully to liquidate his fees - With painting, poetry, and music. - - "The druggist, surgeon, and physician, - So often physick'd, bled, prescribed, - That painter, poet, and musician - (Alas! poor artist!) sunk--and died. - - "But ere death's stroke, 'Doctor,' cried he, - 'In honour of your skill and charge, - Accept from my professions three-- - A _hatchment_, _epitaph_, and _dirge_.'" - -A double fee for good news has long been a rule in the profession. A -father just presented with an heir, or a lucky fellow just made one, -is expected to bleed freely for the benefit of the Faculty. - - "Madam scolded one day so long, - She sudden lost all use of tongue! - The doctor came--with hum and haw, - Pronounc'd th' affection a lock'd jaw! - - 'What hopes, good sir?'--'Small, small, I see!' - The husband slips a _double fee_; - 'What, no hopes, doctor?'--'None, I fear;' - Another fee for issue clear. - - "Madam deceased--'Pray, sir, don't grieve!' - 'My friends, one comfort I receive-- - A _lock'd jaw_ was the only case - From which my wife could die--in peace.'" - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -PEDAGOGUES TURNED DOCTORS. - - -In the church of St. Mary Magdalen, Taunton, is a monumental stone -engraved with the following inscription:-- - - "Qui medicus doctus, prudentis nomine clarus, - Eloquii splendor, Pieridumque decus, - Virtutis cultor, pietatis vixit amicus; - Hoc jacet in tumulo, spiritus alta tenet." - -It is in memory of John Bond, M.A., the learned commentator on Horace -and Persius. Educated at Winchester school, and then at New College, -Oxford, he was elected master of the Taunton Grammar-school in the -year 1579. For many years he presided over that seminary with great -efficiency, and sent out into the world several eminent scholars. On -arriving, however, at the middle age of life, he relinquished the -mastership of the school, and turned his attention to the practice of -medicine. His reputation and success as a physician were great--the -worthy people of Taunton honouring him as "a wise man." He died August -3, 1612. - -More than a century later than John Bond, schoolmaster and physician, -appeared a greater celebrity in the person of James Jurin, who, from -the position of a provincial pedagogue, raised himself to be regarded -as first of the London physicians, and conspicuous amongst the -philosophers of Europe. Jurin was born in 1684, and received his early -education at Christ's Hospital--better known to the public as the -Bluecoat school. After graduating in arts at Cambridge, he obtained -the mastership of the grammar-school of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, January, -1710. In the following year he acquired the high academic distinction -of a fellowship on the foundation of Trinity College; and the year -after (1712) he published through the University press, his edition of -Varenius's Geography, dedicated to Bentley. In 1718 and 1719 he -contributed to the Philosophical Transactions the essays which -involved him in controversies with Keill and Senac, and were, in the -year 1732, reprinted in a collected form, under the title of -"Physico-Mathematical Dissertations." Another of his important -contributions to science was "An Essay on Distinct and Indistinct -Vision," added to Smith's "System of Optics." Voltaire was not without -good reason for styling him, in the _Journal de Savans_, "the famous -Jurin." - -Besides working zealously in his school, Jurin delivered lectures at -Newcastle, on Experimental Philosophy. He worked very hard, his -immediate object being to get and save money. As soon as he had laid -by a clear thousand pounds, he left Newcastle, and returning to his -University devoted himself to the study of medicine. From that time -his course was a prosperous one. Having taken his M.D. degree, he -settled in London, became a Fellow of the College of Physicians, a -Fellow of the Royal Society (to which distinguished body he became -secretary on the resignation of Dr. Halley in 1721), and a Physician -of Guy's Hospital, as well as Governor of St. Thomas's. The friend of -Sir Isaac Newton and Bentley did not lack patients. The -consulting-rooms and ante-chambers of his house in Lincoln's Inn -Fields received many visitors; so that he acquired considerable -wealth, and had an estate and an imposing establishment at Clapton. -Nichols speaks of him in one of his volumes as "James Jurin, M.D., -sometime of Clapton in Hackney." It was, however, at his town -residence that he died, March 22, 1750, of what the _Gentleman's -Magazine_ calls "a dead palsy," leaving by his will a considerable -legacy to Christ's Hospital. - -One might make a long list of Doctors Pedagogic, including poor Oliver -Goldsmith, who used to wince and redden with shame and anger when the -cant phrase, "It's all a holiday at Peckham," saluted his ears. -Between Bond and Jurin, however, there were two tutors turned -physicians, who may not be passed over without especial attention. -Only a little prior to Jurin they knew many of his friends, and -doubtless met him often in consultation. They were both authors--one -of rare wit, and the other (as he himself boasted) of no wit; and they -hated each other, as literary men know how to hate. In every respect, -even down to the quarters of town which they inhabited, they were -opposed to each other. One was a brilliant talker and frequented St. -James's; the other was a pompous drone, and haunted the Mansion-house: -a Jacobite the one, a Whig the other. The reader sees that these two -worthies can be none other than Arbuthnot and Blackmore. - -A wily, courtly, mirth-loving Scotchman, Arbuthnot had all the best -qualities that are to be ordinarily found in a child of North Britain. -Everybody knew him--nearly every one liked him. His satire, that was -only rarely tinctured with bitterness--his tongue, powerful to mimic, -flatter, or persuade--his polished manners and cordial bearing, would -alone have made him a favourite with the ladies, had he not been what -he was--one of the handsomest men about town. (Of course, in -appearance he did not approach that magnificent gentleman, Beau -Fielding). In conversation he was frank without being noisy; and there -hung about him--tavern-haunting wit though he was--an air of -simplicity, tempering his reckless fun, that was very pleasant and -very winning. Pope, Parnell, Garth, Gay, were society much more to his -taste than the stately big-wigs of Warwick Hall. And next to drinking -wine with such men, the good-humoured doctor enjoyed flirting with the -maids of honour, and taking part in a political intrigue. No wonder -that Swift valued him as a priceless treasure--"loved him," as he -wrote to Stella, "ten times as much" as jolly, tippling Dr. Freind. - -It was arm in arm with him that the Dean used to peer about St. -James's, jesting, snarling, laughing, causing dowagers to smile at -"that dear Mr. Dean," and young girls, up for their first year at -Court--green and unsophisticated--to blush with annoyance at his -coarse, shameless badinage; bowing to this great man (from whom he -hoped for countenance), staring insolently at that one (from whom he -was sure of nothing but enmity), quoting Martial to a mitred courtier -(because the prelate couldn't understand Latin), whispering French to -a youthful diplomatist (because the boy knew no tongue but English), -preparing impromptu compliments for "royal Anna" (as our dear worthy -ancestors used to call Mrs. Masham's intimate friend), or with his -glorious blue eyes sending a glance, eloquent of admiration and -homage, at a fair and influential supporter; cringing, fawning, -flattering--in fact, angling for the bishopric he was never to get. -With Arbuthnot it was that Swift tried the dinners and wine of every -hotel round Covent Garden, or in the city. From Arbuthnot it was that -the Dean, during his periods of official exile, received his best and -surest information of the battles of the cliques, the scandals of the -Court, the contentions of parties, the prospects of ministers, and -(most important subject by far) the health of the Queen. - -Some of the most pleasant pictures in the "Journal to Stella" are -those in which the kindly presence of the Doctor softens the asperity -of the Dean. Most readers of these pages have accompanied the two -"brothers" in their excursion to the course the day before the -horse-races, when they overtook Miss Forrester, the pretty maid of -honour, and made her accompany them. The lady was taking the air on -her palfrey, habited in the piquant riding-dress of the period--the -natty three-cornered cocked hat, ornamented with gold lace, and -perched on the top of a long flowing periwig, powdered to the -whiteness of snow, the long coat cut like a coachman's, the waistcoat -flapped and faced, and lastly the habit-skirt. One sees the belle at -this time smiling archly, with all the power of beauty, and shaking -the handle of her whip at the divine and the physician. So they took -her with them (and they weren't wrong in doing so). Then the old Queen -came by, gouty and hypochondriac. Off went the hats of the two -courtiers in the presence of her Majesty. The beauty, too, raised her -little three-cornered cock-boat (rising on her stirrup as she did so), -and returned it to the summit of the flowing wig, with a knowing -side-glance, as much as to say, "See, sirs, we women can do that sort -of thing quite as gracefully as the lords of the creation." (Oh, Mr. -Spectator, how could you find it in you to quarrel with that costume?) -Swift was charmed, and described enough of the scene to make that -foolish Stella frantically jealous; and then, prudent, canny -love-tyrant that he was, added with a sneer--"I did not like her, -though she be a toast, and was dressed like a man." And you may be -sure that poor little Stella was both fool enough and wise enough both -to believe and disbelieve this assurance at the same time. - -Arbuthnot owed his success in no degree whatever to the influence of -his family, and only in a very slight degree to his professional -knowledge. His father was only a poor episcopalian clergyman, and his -M.D. degree was only an Aberdeen one. He rose by his wit, rare -conversational powers, and fascinating address, achieving eminence at -Court because he was the greatest master of fence with the weapon that -is most used in courts--the tongue. He failed to get a living amongst -rustic boors, who appreciated no effort of the human voice but a -fox-hunter's whoop. Dorchester, where as a young man he endeavoured -to establish himself in practice, refused to give him an income, but -it doubtless maintained more than one dull empiric in opulence. In -London he met with a different reception. For a time he was very poor, -and resorted to the most hateful of all occupations--the personal -instruction of the ignorant. How long he was so engaged is uncertain. -Something of Goldsmith's "Peckham" sensibility made him not care in -after-life to talk of the days when he was a teacher of -mathematics--starving on pupils until he should be permitted to grow -fat on patients. - -The patients were not long in coming. The literary reputation he -obtained by his "Examination of Dr Woodward's Account of the Deluge," -elicited by Woodward's "Essay towards a Natural History of the Earth," -instead of frightening the sick from him, brought them to him. -Accidentally called in to Prince George of Denmark, when his Royal -Highness was suddenly taken ill at Epsom, he made himself so agreeable -that the casual introduction became a permanent connection. In 1709, -on the illness of Hannes (a physician who also understood the art of -rising in spite of obstacles) he was appointed physician-in-ordinary -to Queen Anne. - -To secure the good graces of his royal patient, and rise yet higher in -them, he adopted a tone of affection for her as a person, as well as -loyal devotion to her as a queen. The fall of Radcliffe warned him -that he had need of caution in dealing with the weak-minded, -querulous, crotchety, self-indulgent invalid. - -"What's the time?" asked the Queen of him one day. - -"Whatever it may please your Majesty," answered the court-physician, -with a graceful bow. - -After all, the best testimony of a man's merit is the opinion held of -him by those of his acquaintance who know him intimately--at home as -well as abroad. By all who came within the circle of Arbuthnot's -privacy he was respected as much as loved. And his associates were no -common men. Pope, addressing him as "the friend of his life," says:-- - - "Why did I write? what sin, to me unknown, - Dipp'd me in ink?--my parents' or my own? - As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame, - I lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came. - I left no calling for this idle trade, - No duty broke, no father disobey'd. - The muse but served to ease some friend, not wife, - To help me through this long disease, my life, - To second, Arbuthnot! thy art and care, - And teach the being you preserved to bear." - -Pope's concluding wish-- - - "Oh, friend! may each domestic bliss be thine." - -was ineffectual. Arbuthnot's health failed under his habits of -intemperance, and during his latter years he was a terrible sufferer -from asthma and melancholy. After the Queen's death he went for the -benefit of his health on the continent, and visited his brother, a -Paris banker. Returning to London he took a house in Dover Street, -from which he moved to the residence in Cork Street, Burlington -Gardens, where he died Feb. 27, 1734-5. He died in straitened -circumstances; for unlike his fellow-countryman, Colonel Chartres, he -had not the faculty of saving. But with failing energies, an -excruciated frame, and the heart-burden of a family unprovided for, he -maintained a philosophic equanimity, and displayed his old unvarying -consideration for all who surrounded him. - -Arbuthnot's epitaph on Colonel Chartres (almost as well known as -Martinus Scriblerus) is a good specimen of his humour:-- - - "Here continueth to rot, - The Body of Francis Chartres. - Who, with an indefatigable constancy, - And inimitable Uniformity of life, - Persisted, - In spite of Age and Infirmities, - In the practice of every Human Vice, - Excepting Prodigality and Hypocrisy: - His insatiable Avarice exempting him from the First, - His matchless impudence from the Second. - Nor was he more singular in the Undeviating Pravity - Of his manners, than successful - In accumulating Wealth: - For, without Trade or Profession, - Without trust of public money, - And without bribe-worthy service, - He acquired, or more properly created, - A ministerial estate. - He was the only person of this time - Who could cheat without the Mask of Honesty, - Retain his primaeval meanness when possessed of - Ten thousand a-year: - And having duly deserved the Gibbet for what he did, - Was at last condemned to it for what he could not do. - Oh, indignant reader! - Think not his life useless to mankind: - Providence connived at his execrable designs, - To give to After-age a conspicuous - Proof and Example - Of how small estimation is exorbitant Wealth - In the sight of God, by His bestowing it on - The most unworthy of Mortals." - -The history of the worthy person whose reputation is here embalmed is -interesting. Beginning life as an ensign in the army, he was drummed -out of his regiment, banished Brussels, and ignominiously expelled -from Ghent, for cheating. As a miser he saved, and as a usurer he -increased, the money which he won as a blackleg and card-sharper. -Twice was he condemned to death for heinous offences, but contrived to -purchase pardon; and, after all, he was fortunate enough to die in his -own bed, in his native country, Scotland, A. D. 1731, aged sixty-two. -At his funeral the indignant mob, feeling that justice had not been -done to the dear departed, raised a riot, insulted the mourners, and, -when the coffin was lowered into the grave, threw upon it a -magnificent collection of dead dogs! - -In a similar and scarcely less magnificent vein of humour, Arbuthnot -wrote another epitaph--on a greyhound:-- - - "To the memory of - Signor Fido, - An Italian of Good Extraction: - Who came into England, - Not to bite us, like most of his countrymen, - But to gain an honest livelihood: - He hunted not after fame, - Yet acquired it: - Regardless of the Praise of his Friends, - But most sensible of their love: - Tho' he liv'd amongst the great, - He neither learn'd nor flatter'd any vice: - He was no Bigot, - Tho' he doubted of none of the thirty-nine articles; - And if to follow Nature, - And to respect the laws of Society, - Be Philosophy, - He was a perfect Phi losopher, - A faithful Friend, - An agreeable Companion, - A loving Husband, - Distinguished by a numerous Offspring, - All of which he lived to see take good _courses_; - In his old age he retired - To the House of a Clergyman in the Country, - Where he finished his earthly Race, - And died an Honour and an Example to the whole Species. - Reader, - This stone is guiltless of Flattery, - For he to whom it is inscribed - Was not a man, - But a - Greyhound." - -In the concluding lines there is a touch of Sterne. They also call to -mind Byron's epitaph on his dog. - -These epitaphs put the writer in mind of the literary ambition of the -eminent Dr. James Gregory of Edinburgh. His great aim was to be _the_ -Inscriptor (as he styled it) of his age. No distinguished person died -without the doctor promptly striking off his characteristics in a -mural legend. For every statue erected to heroes, real or sham, he -composed an inscription, and interested himself warmly to have it -adopted. Amongst the public monuments on which his compositions may be -found are the Nelson Monument at Edinburgh, and the Duke of -Wellington's shield at Gibraltar. On King Robert Bruce, Charles Edward -Stuart, his mother, Sir James Foulis de Collington, and Robertson the -historian, he also produced commemorative inscriptions of great -excellence. As a very fair specimen of his style the inscription on -the Seott Flagon is transcribed:-- - - "Gualterum Scott, - De Abbotsford, - Virum summi Ingenii - Scriptorem Elegantem - Poetarum sui seculi facile Principem - Patriae Decus - Ob varia ergo ipsam merita - In civium suorum numerum - Grata adscripsit Civitas Edinburgensis - Et hoc Cantharo donavit - A. D. MDCCCXIII." - -Sir Richard Blackmore, the other pedagogue physician, was one of those -good, injudicious mortals who always either praise or blame too -much--usually the latter. The son of a Wiltshire attorney, he was -educated at Westminster School and Oxford, taking his degree of M.A. -June, 1676, and residing, in all, thirteen years in the university, -during a portion of which protracted period of residence he was -(though Dr. Johnson erroneously supposed the reverse) a laborious -student. On leaving Oxford he passed through a course of searching -poverty, and became a schoolmaster. In this earlier part of his life -he travelled in France, Germany, the Low Countries, and Italy, and -took his doctor's degree in the University of Padua. On turning his -attention to medicine, he consulted Sydenham as to what authors he -ought to read. "Don Quixote," replied the veteran. A similar answer -has been attributed to Lord Erskine on being asked by a law student -the best literary sources for acquiring legal knowledge and success. -The scepticism of the reply reminds one of Garth, who, to an anxious -patient inquiring what physician he had best call in in case of his -(Garth's) death, responded, "One is e'en as good as t'other, and -surgeons are not less knowing." - -As a poet, Blackmore failed, but as a physician he was for many years -one of the most successful men in his profession. Living at Sadler's -Hall, Cheapside, he was the oracle of all the wealthiest citizens, and -was blessed with an affluence that allowed him to drive about town in -a handsome equipage, and make an imposing figure to the world. -Industrious, honourable, and cordially liked by his personal friends, -he was by no means the paltry fellow that Dryden and Pope represented -him. Johnson, in his brilliant memoir, treated him very unfairly, and -clearly was annoyed that his conscience would not allow him to treat -him worse. On altogether insufficient grounds the doctor argued that -his knowledge of ancient authors was superficial, and for the most -part derived from secondary sources. Passages indeed are introduced to -show that the ridicule and contempt showered on the poet by his -adversaries, and re-echoed by the laughing world, were unjust; but the -effect of these admissions, complete in themselves, is more than -counterbalanced by the sarcasms (and some of them vulgar sarcasms too) -which the biographer, in imitation of Colonel Codrington, Sir Charles -Sedley, and Colonel Blount, directs against the city knight. - -A sincerely religious man, Blackmore was offended with the gross -licentiousness of the drama, and all those productions of the poets -which constituted the light literature of the eighteenth century. To -his eternal honour, Blackmore was the first man who had the courage to -raise his voice against the evil, and give utterance to a manly -indignation at the insults offered nightly in every theatre to public -decency. Unskilled in the use of the pen, of an age when he could not -hope to perfect himself in an art to which he had not in youth -systematically trained himself, and immersed in the cares of an -extensive practice, he set himself to work on the production of a -poem, which should elevate and instruct, not vitiate and deprave -youthful readers. In this spirit "Prince Arthur" was composed and -published in 1695, when the author was between forty and fifty years -of age. It was written, as he frankly acknowledged, "by such catches -and starts, and in such occasional uncertain hours as his profession -afforded, and for the greatest part in coffee-houses, or in passing up -and down streets." The wits laughed at him for writing "to the -rumbling of his chariot-wheels," but at this date, ridicule thrown on -a man for doing good at odd scraps of a busy day, has a close -similarity to the laughter of fools. Let any reader compare the -healthy gentlemanlike tone of the preface to "Prince Arthur," with the -mean animosity of all the virulent criticisms and sarcasms that were -directed against the author and his works, and then decide on which -side truth and good taste lie. - -Blackmore made the fatal error of writing too much. His long poems -wearied the patience of those who sympathized with his goodness of -intention. What a list there is of them, in Swift's inscription, "to -be put under Sir Richard's picture!" - - "See, who ne'er was, or will be half read, - Who first sung Arthur, then sung Alfred,[7] - Praised great Eliza[8] in God's anger, - Till all true Englishmen cried, hang her! - . . . . . - Then hiss'd from earth, grown heavenly quite, - Made every reader curse the light.[9] - Mauled human wit in one thick satire;[10] - Next, in three books, spoil'd human nature;[11] - Ended Creation[12] at a jerk, - And of Redemption[13] made damn'd work: - Then took his muse at once, and dipp'd her - Full in the middle of the Scripture. - What wonders there the man grown old did! - Sternhold himself he out-sternholded; - Made David[14] seem so mad and freakish, - All thought him just what thought king Achish. - No mortal read his Solomon,[15] - But judged R'oboam his own son. - Moses[16] he served, as Moses Pharaoh, - And Deborah as she Sisera: - Made Jeremy[17] full sore to cry, - And Job[18] himself curse God and die." - - [7] Two heroic Poems, folio, twenty books. - - [8] An heroic Poem, in twelve books. - - [9] Hymn to Light. - - [10] Satire against Wit. - - [11] Of the Nature of Man. - - [12] Creation, in seven books. - - [13] Redemption, in six books. - - [14] Translation of all the Psalms. - - [15] Canticles and Ecclesiastes. - - [16] Canticles of Moses, Deborah, &c. - - [17] The Lamentations. - - [18] The Whole Book of Job, in folio. - -Nor is this by any means a complete list of Sir Richard's works; for -he was also a voluminous medical writer, and author of a "History of -the Conspiracy against the Person and Government of King William the -Third, of glorious memory, in the year 1695." - -Dryden, unable to clear himself of the charge of pandering for gain to -the licentious tastes of the age, responded to his accuser by calling -him an "ass," a "pedant," a "quack," and a "canting preacher." - - "Quack Maurus, though he never took degrees - In either of our universities, - Yet to be shown by some kind wit he looks, - Because he play'd the fool, and writ three books. - But if he would be worth a poet's pen, - He must be more a fool, and write again; - For all the former fustian stuff he wrote - Was dead-born doggerel, or is quite forgot: - His man of Uz, stript of his Hebrew robe, - Is just the proverb, and 'as poor as Job.' - One would have thought he could no longer jog; - But Arthur was a level, Job's a bog. - There though he crept, yet still he kept in sight; - But here he founders in, and sinks downright. - . . . . . - At leisure hours in epic song he deals, - Writes to the rumbling of his coach's wheels. - . . . . . - Well, let him go--'tis yet too early day - To get himself a place in farce or play; - We know not by what name we should arraign him, - For no one category can contain him. - A pedant, canting preacher, and a quack, - Are load enough to break an ass's back. - At last, grown wanton, he presumed to write, - Traduced two kings, their kindness to requite; - One made the doctor, and one dubbed the knight." - -The former of the kings alluded to is James the Second, Blackmore -having obtained his fellowship of the College of Physicians, April 12, -1687, under the new charter granted to the college by that monarch; -the latter being William the Third, who, in recognition of the -doctor's zeal and influence as a Whig, not less than of his eminence -in his profession, made him a physician of the household, and knighted -him. - -Pope says:-- - - "The hero William, and the martyr Charles, - One knighted Blackmore, and one pension'd Quarles." - -The bard of Twickenham had of course a few ill words for Blackmore. In -the Dunciad he says:-- - - "Ye critics, in whose heads, as equal scales, - I weigh what author's heaviness prevails; - Which most conduce to soothe the soul in slumbers, - My H----ley's periods, or my Blackmore's numbers." - -Elsewhere, in the same poem, the little wasp of poetry continues his -hissing song:-- - - "But far o'er all, sonorous Blackmore's strain, - Walls, steeples, skies, bray back to him again. - In Tot'nham fields, the brethren, with amaze, - Prick all their ears up, and forget to graze; - 'Long Chancery Lane retentive rolls the sound, - And courts to courts return it round and round; - Thames wafts it thence to Rufus' roaring hall, - And Hungerford re-echoes bawl for bawl; - All hail him victor in both gifts and song, - Who sings so loudly, and who sings so long." - -Such being the tone of the generals, the reader can imagine that of -the petty scribblers, the professional libellers, the coffee-house -rakes, and literary amateurs of the Temple, who formed the rabble of -the vast army against which the doctor had pitted himself, in defence -of public decency and domestic morality. Under the title of -"Commendatory Verses, on the author of the two Arthurs, and the Satyr -against Wit, by some of his particular friends," were collected, in -the year 1700, upwards of forty sets of ribald verses, taunting Sir -Richard with his early poverty, with his having been a school-master, -with the unspeakable baseness of--living in the city. The writers of -these wretched dirty lampoons, that no kitchen-maid could in our day -read without blushing, little thought what they were doing. Their -obscene stupidity has secured for them the lasting ignominy to which -they imagined they were consigning their antagonist. What a crew they -are!--with chivalric Steel and kindly Garth, forgetting their better -natures, and joining in the miserable riot! To "The City Quack"; "The -Cheapside Knight"; "The Illustrious Quack, Pedant, Bard"; "The Merry -Poetaster of Sadler's Hall"--such are the titles by which they address -the doctor, who had presumed to say that authors and men of wit ought -to find a worthier exercise for their intellects than the manufacture -of impure jests. - -Colonel Codrington makes his shot thus-- - - "By Nature meant, by Want a Pedant made, - Blackmore at first profess'd the whipping trade; - . . . . . - In vain his drugs as well as Birch he try'd-- - His boys grew blockheads, and his patients dy'd. - Next he turn'd Bard, and, mounted on a cart, - Whose hideous rumbling made Apollo start, - Burlesqued the Bravest, Wisest son of Mars, - In ballad rhymes, and all the pomp of Farce. - . . . . . - -The same dull sarcasms about killing patients and whipping boys into -blockheads are repeated over and over again. As if to show, with the -greatest possible force, the pitch to which the evil of the times had -risen, the coarsest and most disgusting of all these lampoon-writers -was a lady of rank--the Countess of Sandwich. By the side of her -Ladyship, Afra Behn and Mistress Manley become timid blushing maidens. -A better defence of Sir Richard than the Countess's attack on him it -would be impossible to imagine. - -And after all--the slander and the maledictions--Sir Richard Blackmore -gained the victory, and the wits who never wearied of calling him "a -fool" were defeated. The preface to "Prince Arthur" provoked -discussion; the good sense and better taste of the country were -roused, and took the reformer's side of the controversy. Pope and his -myrmidons, it was true, were still able to make the _beau monde_ merry -about the city knight's presumption--but they could not refute the -city knight's arguments; and they themselves were compelled to shape -their conduct, as writers, in deference to a new public feeling which -he was an important instrument in calling into existence. "Prince -Arthur" appeared in 1695, and to the commotion caused by its preface -may be attributed much of the success of Jeremy Collier's "Short View -of the Immorality and Profaneness of the Stage," which was published -some three years afterwards. - -As a poet Sir Richard Blackmore can command only that praise which the -charitable bestow on goodness of intention. His muse was a pleasant, -well-looking, right-minded young lady, but nothing more. But it must -be remembered, before we measure out our criticisms on his -productions, that he never arrogated to himself the highest honours of -poesy. "I am a gentleman of taste and culture, and though I cannot -ever hope to build up the nervous lines of Dryden, or attain the -polish and brilliance of Congreve, I believe I can write what the -generation sorely needs--works that intelligent men may study with -improvement, devout Christians may read without being offended, and -pure-minded girls may peruse without blushing from shame. 'Tis true I -am a hard-worked doctor, spending my days in coffee-houses, receiving -apothecaries, or driving over the stones in my carriage, visiting my -patients. Of course a man so circumstanced must fail to achieve -artistic excellence, but still I'll do my best." Such was the language -with which he introduced himself to the public. - -His best poem, _The Creation_, had such merit that his carping -biographer, Johnson, says, "This poem, if he had written nothing else, -would have transmitted him to posterity one of the first favourites of -the English muse"; and Addison designated the same poem "one of the -most useful and noble productions in our English verse." - -Of Sir Richard's private character Johnson remarks--"In some part of -his life, it is not known when, his indigence compelled him to teach a -school--a humiliation with which, though it certainly lasted but a -little while, his enemies did not forget to reproach him when he -became conspicuous enough to excite malevolence; and let it be -remembered, for his honour, that to have been a schoolmaster is the -only reproach which all the perspicacity of malice, animated by wit, -has ever fixed upon his private life." - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -THE GENEROSITY AND THE PARSIMONY OF PHYSICIANS. - - -Of the generosity of physicians one _need_ say nothing, for there are -few who have not experienced or witnessed it; and one _had better_ say -nothing, as no words could do justice to such a subject. This writer -can speak for at least one poor scholar, to whose sick-bed physicians -have come from distant quarters of the town, day after day, never -taking a coin for their precious services, and always in their -graceful benevolence seeming to find positive enjoyment in their -unpaid labour. In gratitude for kindness shown to himself, and yet -more for beneficence exhibited to those whom he loves, that man of the -goose-quill and thumbed books would like to put on record the names of -certain members of "the Faculty" to whom he is so deeply indebted. Ah, -dear Dr. ---- and Dr. ---- and Dr. ----, do not start!--your names -shall not be put down on this cheap common page. Where they are -engraved, you know! - -Cynics have been found in plenty to rail at physicians for loving -their fees; and one might justly retort on the Cynics, that they love -_nothing but_ their fees. Who doesn't love the sweet money earned by -his labour--be it labour of hand or brain, or both? One thing is -sure--that doctors are underpaid. The most successful of them in our -own time get far less than their predecessors of any reign, from Harry -the Eighth downwards. And for honours, though the present age has seen -an author raised to the peerage, no precedent has as yet been -established for ennobling eminent physicians and surgeons. - -Queen Elizabeth gave her physician-in-ordinary L100 per annum, besides -diet, wine, wax, and other perquisites. Her apothecary, Hugo Morgan, -must too have made a good thing out of her. For a quarter's bill that -gentleman was paid L83 7_s._ 8_d._, a large sum in those days; but -then it was for such good things. What Queen of England could grudge -eleven shillings for "a confection made like a manus Christi, with -bezoar stone and unicorn's horn"?--sixteen pence for "a royal -sweetmeat with incised rhubarb"?--twelve pence for "Rosewater for the -King of Navarre's ambassador"?--six shillings for "a conserve of -barberries, with preserved damascene plums, and other things for Mr. -Raleigh"?--two shillings and sixpence for "sweet scent to be used at -the christening of Sir Richard Knightley's son"? - -Coytier, the physician of Charles the XI. of France, was better paid -by far. The extent to which he fleeced that monarch is incredible. -Favour after favour he wrung from him. When the royal patient resisted -the modest demands of his physician, the latter threatened him with -speedy dissolution. On this menace the king, succumbing to that fear -of death which characterized more than one other of his family, was -sure to make the required concession. Theodore Hook's valet, who was a -good servant in the first year of his service, a sympathizing friend -in the second, and a hard tyrant in the third, was a timid slave -compared with Coytier. Charles, in order to be freed from his -despotism, ordered him to be dispatched. The officer, intrusted with -the task of carrying out the royal wishes, waited on Coytier, and -said, in a most gentlemanlike and considerate manner, "I am very -sorry, my dear fellow, but I must kill you. The king can't stand you -any longer." "All right," said Coytier, with perfect unconcern, -"whenever you like. What time would it be most convenient for you to -kill me? But still, I am deuced sorry for his Majesty, for I know by -occult science that he can't outlive me more than four days." The -officer was so struck with the announcement, that he went away and -forthwith imparted it to the king. "Liberate him instantly--don't hurt -a hair of his head!" cried the terrified monarch. And Coytier was once -again restored to his place in the king's confidence and pocket. - -Henry Atkins managed James the First with some dexterity. Atkins was -sent for to Scotland, to attend Charles the First (then an infant), -who was dangerously ill of a fever. The king gave him the handsome fee -of L6000. Atkins invested the money in the purchase of the manor of -Clapham. - -Radcliffe, with a rare effort of generosity, attended a friend for a -twelvemonth gratuitously. On making his last visit his friend said, -"Doctor, here is a purse in which I have put every day's fee; and your -goodness must not get the better of my gratitude. Take your money." -Radcliffe looked, made a resolve to persevere in benevolence, just -touched the purse to reject it, heard the chink of the gold pieces in -it, and put the bag into his pocket. "Singly, sir, I could have -refused them for a twelvemonth; but, all together, _they are -irresistible_," said the doctor, walking off with a heavy prize and a -light heart. - -Louis XIV. gave his physician and his surgeon 75,000 crowns each, -after successfully undergoing a painful and at that time novel -operation. By the side of such munificence, the fees paid by Napoleon -I. to the Faculty who attended Marie Louise in March, 1811, when the -Emperor's son was born, seem insufficient. Dubois, Corvisart, -Bourdier, and Ivan were the professional authorities employed, and -they had among them a remuneration of L4000, L2000 being the portion -assigned to Dubois. - -Even more than fee gratefully paid does a humorous physician enjoy an -extra fee adroitly drawn from the hand of a reluctant payer. Sir -Richard Jebb was once paid three guineas by a nobleman from whom he -had a right to expect five. Sir Richard dropped the coins on the -carpet, when a servant picked them up and restored them--three, and -only three. Instead of walking off Sir Richard continued his search on -the carpet. "Are all the guineas found?" asked his Lordship looking -round. "There must be two still on the floor," was the answer, "for I -have only three." The hint of course was taken and the right sum put -down. An eminent Bristol doctor accomplished a greater feat than this, -and took a fee from--a dead commoner, not a live lord. Coming into his -patient's bed-room immediately after death had taken place, he found -the right hand of the deceased tightly clenched. Opening the fingers -he discovered within them a guinea. "Ah, that was for me--clearly," -said the doctor putting the piece into his pocket. - -Reminding the reader, in its commencement, of Sir Richard Jebb's -disappointment at the three-guinea fee, the following story may here -be appropriately inserted. A physician on receiving two guineas, when -he expected three, from an old lady patient, who was accustomed to -give him the latter fee, had recourse to one part of Sir Richard's -artifice, and assuming that the third guinea had been dropt through -his carelessness on the floor, looked about for it. "Nay, nay," said -the lady with a smile, "you are not in fault. It is I who dropt it." - -There is an abundance of good stories of physicians fleecing their -lambs. To those that are true the comment may be made--"Doubtless the -lambs were all the better for being shorn." For the following anecdote -we are indebted to Dr. Moore, the author of "Zeluco." A wealthy -tradesman, after drinking the Bath waters, took a fancy to try the -effect of the Bristol hot wells. Armed with an introduction from a -Bath physician to a professional brother at Bristol, the invalid set -out on his journey. On the road he gave way to his curiosity to read -the doctor's letter of introduction, and cautiously prying into it -read these instructive words: "Dear sir, the bearer is a fat Wiltshire -clothier--make the most of him." - -Benevolence was not a virtue in old Monsey's line; but he could be -generous at another's expense, when the enjoyment his malignity -experienced in paining one person counterbalanced his discomfort at -giving pleasure to another. Strolling through Oxford market he heard -a poor woman ask the price of a piece of meat that lay on a butcher's -stall. - -"A penny a pound!" growled the man to whom the question was put, -disdaining to give a serious answer to such a poverty-stricken -customer. - -"Just weigh that piece of beef, my friend," said Monsey, stepping up. - -"Ten pounds and a half, sir," observed the butcher, after adjusting -the scales and weights. - -"Here, my good woman," said Monsey, "out with your apron, and put the -beef into it, and make haste home to your family." - -Blessing the benevolent heart of the eccentric old gentleman, the -woman did as she was bid, took possession of her meat, and was -speedily out of sight. - -"And there, my man," said Monsey, turning to the butcher, "is tenpence -halfpenny, the price of your beef." - -"What do you mean?" demanded the man. - -"Simply that that's all I'll pay you. You said the meat was a penny a -pound. At that price I bought it of you--to give to the poor woman. -Good morning!" - -A fee that Dr. Fothergill took of Mr. Grenville was earned without -much trouble. Fothergill, like Lettsom, was a Quaker, and was warmly -supported by his brother sectarians. In the same way Mead was brought -into practice by the Nonconformists, to whom his father ministered -spiritually. Indeed, Mead's satirists affirmed that when his servant -(acting on instructions) had called him out from divine service, the -parson took his part in the "dodge" by asking the congregation to -pray for the bodily and ghostly welfare of the patient to whom his son -had just been summoned. Dissenters are remarkable for giving staunch -support, and thorough confidence, to a doctor of their own persuasion. -At the outbreak of the American war, therefore Grenville knew that he -could not consult a better authority than the Quaker doctor, -Fothergill, on the state of feeling amongst the Quaker colonists. -Fothergill was consequently summoned to prescribe for the politician. -The visit took the form of an animated discussion on American affairs, -which was brought to a conclusion by Grenville's putting five guineas -into the physician's hand, saying--"Really, doctor, I am so much -better, that I don't want you to prescribe for me." With a canny -significant smile Fothergill, keeping, like a true Quaker, firm hold -of the money, answered, "At this rate, friend, I will spare thee an -hour now and then." - -Dr. Glynn, of Cambridge, was as benevolent as he was eccentric. His -reputation in the fen districts as an ague doctor was great, and for -some years he made a large professional income. On one occasion a poor -peasant woman, the widowed mother of an only son, trudged from the -heart of the fens into Cambridge, to consult the doctor about her boy, -who was ill of an ague. Her manner so interested the physician, that -though it was during an inclement winter, and the roads were almost -impassable to carriages, he ordered horses, and went out to see the -sick lad. After a tedious attendance, and the exhibition of much port -wine and bark (bought at the doctor's expense), the patient recovered, -and Glynn took his leave. A few days after the farewell visit, the -poor woman again presented herself in the consulting room. - -"I hope, my good woman," said Glynn, "your son is not ill again?" - -"No, sir, he was never better," answered the woman, gratefully; "but -we can't get no rest for thinking of all the trouble that you have -had, and so my boy resolved this morning on sending you his favourite -magpie." - -In the woman's hand was a large wicker basket, which she opened at the -conclusion of the speech, affording means of egress to an enormous -magpie, that hopped out into the room, demure as a saint and bold as a -lord. It was a fee to be proud of! - -The free-will offerings of the poor to their doctors are sometimes -very droll, and yet more touching. They are presented with such -fervour and simplicity, and such a sincere anxiety that they should be -taken as an expression of gratitude for favours past, not for favours -to come. The writer of these pages has known the humble toilers of -agricultural districts retain for a score of years the memory of kind -services done to them in sickness. He could tell of several who, at -the anniversary of a particular day (when a wife died, or child was -saved from fever, or an accident crushed a finger or lacerated a -limb), trudge for miles over the country to the doctor's house, and -leave there a little present--a pot of honey, a basket of apples, a -dish of the currants from the bush which "the doctor" once praised, -and said was fit for a gentleman's garden. - -Of eminent physicians Dr. Gregory of Edinburgh was as remarkable for -his amiability as for his learning. It was his custom to receive from -new pupils at his own house the fees for the privilege of attending -his lectures. Whilst thus engaged one day, he left a student in his -consulting-room, and went into an adjoining apartment for a fresh -supply of admission tickets. In a mirror the doctor saw the student -rise from his seat, and sweep into his pocket some guineas from a heap -of gold (the fees of other students) that lay on the consulting-room -table. Without saying a word at the moment, Dr. Gregory returned, -dated the admission ticket, and gave it to the thief. He then politely -attended him to the door, and on the threshold said to the young man, -with deep emotion, "I saw what you did just now. Keep the money. I -know what distress you must be in. But for God's sake never do it -again--it can never succeed." The pupil implored Gregory to take back -the money, but the doctor said, "Your punishment is this, you must -keep it--now you have taken it." The reproof had a salutary effect. -The youth turned out a good and honest man. - -An even better anecdote can be told of this good physician's -benevolence. A poor medical student, ill of typhus fever, sent for -him. The summons was attended to, and the visit paid, when the invalid -proffered the customary guinea fee. Dr. Gregory turned away, insulted -and angry. "I beg your pardon, Dr. Gregory," exclaimed the student, -apologetically, "I didn't know your rule. Dr. ---- has always taken -one." "Oh," answered Gregory, "he has--has he? Look you, then, my -young friend; ask him to meet me in consultation, and then offer him a -fee; or stay--offer me the fee first." The directions were duly acted -upon. The consultation took place, and the fee was offered. "Sir," -exclaimed the benevolent doctor, "do you mean to insult me? Is there a -professor who would in this University degrade himself so far as to -take payment from one of his brotherhood--and a junior?" The confusion -of the man on whom this reproof was really conferred can be imagined. -He had the decency, ere the day closed, to send back to the student -all the fees he had taken of him. - -Amongst charitable physicians a high place must be assigned to -Brocklesby, of whom mention is made in another part of these pages. An -ardent Whig, he was the friend of enthusiastic Tories as well as of -the members of his own body. Burke on the one hand, and Johnson on the -other, were amongst his intimate associates, and experienced his -beneficence. To the latter he offered a hundred-a-year for life. And -when the Tory writer was struggling with the heavy burden of -increasing disease, he attended him with affectionate solicitude, -taking no fee for his services--Dr. Heberden, Dr. Warren, Dr. Butler, -and Mr. Cruikshank the surgeon, displaying a similar liberality. It -was Brocklesby who endeavored to soothe the mental agitation of the -aged scholar's death-bed, by repeating the passage from the Roman -satirist, in which occurs the line:-- - - "Fortem posce animum et mortis terrore carentem." - -Burke's pun on Brocklesby's name is a good instance of the elaborate -ingenuity with which the great Whig orator adorned his conversation -and his speeches. Pre-eminent amongst the advertising quacks of the -day was Dr. Rock. It was therefore natural that Brocklesby should -express some surprise at being accosted by Burke as Dr. Rock, a title -at once infamous and ridiculous. "Don't be offended. Your name is -Rock," said Burke, with a laugh; "I'll prove it algebraically: -_Brock--b = Rock_; or, Brock less _b_ makes Rock." Dr. Brocklesby, on -the occasion of giving evidence in a trial, had the ill fortune to -offend the presiding judge, who, amongst other prejudices not uncommon -in the legal profession, cherished a lively contempt for medical -evidence. "Well, gentlemen of the jury," said the noble lawyer in his -summing up, "what's the medical testimony? First we have a Dr. -Rocklesby or--Brocklesby. What does he say? _First of all he_ -swears--_he's a physician_." - -Abernethy is a by-word for rudeness and even brutality of manner; but -he was as tender and generous as a man ought to be, as a man of great -intelligence usually is. The stories current about him are nearly all -fictions of the imagination; or, where they have any foundation in -fact, relate to events that occurred long before the hero to whom they -are tacked by anecdote-mongers had appeared on the stage. He was -eccentric--but his eccentricities always took the direction of common -sense; whereas the extravagances attributed to him by popular gossip -are frequently those of a heartless buffoon. His time was precious, -and he rightly considered that his business was to set his patients in -the way of recovering their lost health--not to listen to their -fatuous prosings about their maladies. He was therefore prompt and -decided in checking the egotistic garrulity of valetudinarians. This -candid expression of his dislike to unnecessary talk had one good -result. People who came to consult him took care not to offend him by -bootless prating. A lady on one occasion entered his consulting-room, -and put before him an injured finger, without saying a word. In -silence Abernethy dressed the wound, when instantly and silently the -lady put the usual fee on the table, and retired. In a few days she -called again, and offered the finger for inspection. "Better?" asked -the surgeon. "Better," answered the lady, speaking to him for the -first time. Not another word followed during the rest of the -interview. Three or four similar visits were made, at the last of -which the patient held out her finger free from bandages and perfectly -healed. "Well?" was Abernethy's monosyllabic inquiry. "Well," was the -lady's equally brief answer. "Upon my soul, madam," exclaimed the -delighted surgeon, "_you are the most rational woman I ever met -with_." - -To curb his tongue, however, out of respect to Abernethy's humour, was -an impossibility to John Philpot Curran. Eight times Curran -(personally unknown to Abernethy) had called on the great surgeon; and -eight times Abernethy had looked at the orator's tongue (telling him, -by-the-by, that it was the most unclean and utterly abominable tongue -in the world), had curtly advised him to drink less, and not abuse his -stomach with gormandizing, had taken a guinea, and had bowed him out -of the room. On the ninth visit, just as he was about to be dismissed -in the same summary fashion, Curran, with a flash of his dark eye, -fixed the surgeon, and said--"Mr. Abernethy, I have been here on eight -different days, and I have paid you eight different guineas; but you -have never yet listened to the symptoms of my complaint. I am -resolved, sir, not to leave the room till you satisfy me by doing -so." With a good-natured laugh, Abernethy, half suspecting that he had -to deal with a madman, fell back in his chair and said--"Oh! very -well, sir; I am ready to hear you out. Go on, give me the whole--your -birth, parentage, and education. I wait your pleasure. Pray be as -minute and tedious as you can." With perfect gravity Curran -began--"Sir, my name is John Philpot Curran. My parents were poor, but -I believe honest people, of the province of Munster, where also I was -born, at Newmarket, in the county of Cork, in the year one thousand -seven hundred and fifty. My father being employed to collect the rents -of a Protestant gentleman of small fortune, in that neighbourhood, -procured my admission into one of the Protestant free-schools, where I -obtained the first rudiments of my education. I was next enabled to -enter Trinity College, Dublin, in the humble sphere of a sizar--" And -so he went steadily on, till he had thrown his auditor into -convulsions of laughter. - -Abernethy was very careful not to take fees from patients if he -suspected them to be in indigent circumstances. Mr. George Macilwain, -in his instructive and agreeable "Memoirs of John Abernethy," mentions -a case where an old officer of parsimonious habits, but not of -impoverished condition, could not induce Abernethy to accept his fee, -and consequently forbore from again consulting him. On another -occasion, when a half-pay lieutenant wished to pay him for a long and -laborious attendance, Abernethy replied, "Wait till you're a general; -then come and see me, and we'll talk about fees." To a gentleman of -small means who consulted him, after having in vain had recourse to -other surgeons, he said--"Your recovery will be slow. If you don't -feel much pain, depend upon it you are gradually getting round; if you -do feel much pain, then come again, _but not else_. I don't want your -money." To a hospital student (of great promise and industry, but in -narrow circumstances), who became his dresser, he returned the -customary fee of sixty guineas, and requested him to expend them in -the purchase of books and securing other means of improvement. To a -poor widow lady (who consulted him about her child), he, on saying -good-bye in a friendly letter, returned all the fees he had taken from -her under the impression that she was in good circumstances, and added -L50 to the sum, begging her to expend it in giving her child a daily -ride in the fresh air. He was often brusque and harsh, and more than -once was properly reproved for his hastiness and want of -consideration. - -"I have heard of your rudeness before I came, sir," one lady said, -taking his prescription, "but I was not prepared for such treatment. -What am I to do with this?" - -"Anything you like," the surgeon roughly answered. "Put it on the fire -if you please." - -Taking him at his word, the lady put her fee on the table, and the -prescription on the fire; and making a bow, left the room. Abernethy -followed her into the hall, apologizing, and begging her to take back -the fee or let him write another prescription; but the lady would not -yield her vantage-ground. - -Of operations Abernethy had a most un-surgeon-like horror--"like -Cheselden and Hunter, regarding them as the reproach of the -profession." "I hope, sir, it will not be long," said a poor woman, -suffering under the knife. "No, indeed," earnestly answered Abernethy, -"that would be too horrible." This humanity, on a point on which -surgeons are popularly regarded as being devoid of feeling, is very -general in the profession. William Cooper (Sir Astley's uncle) was, -like Abernethy, a most tender-hearted man. He was about to amputate a -man's leg, in the hospital theatre, when the poor fellow, terrified at -the display of instruments and apparatus, suddenly jumped off the -table, and hobbled away. The students burst out laughing; and the -surgeon, much pleased at being excused from the performance of a -painful duty, exclaimed, "By God, I am glad he's gone!" - -The treatment which one poor fellow received from Abernethy may at -first sight seem to militate against our high estimate of the -surgeon's humanity, and dislike of inflicting physical pain. Dr. ----, -an eminent physician still living and conferring lustre on his -profession, sent a favourite man-servant with a brief note, -running--"Dear Abernethy, Will you do me the kindness to put a seton -in this poor fellow's neck? Yours sincerely, ----." The man, who was -accustomed and encouraged to indulge in considerable freedom of speech -with his master's friends, not only delivered the note to Abernethy, -but added, in an explanatory and confiding tone, "You see, sir, I -don't get better, and as master thinks I ought to have a seton in my -neck, I should be thankful if you'd put it in for me." It is not at -all improbable that Abernethy resented the directions of master and -man. Anyhow he inquired into the invalid's case, and then taking out -his needles did as he was requested. The operation was attended with a -little pain, and the man howled, as only a coward can howl, under the -temporary inconvenience. "Oh! Lor' bless you! Oh, have mercy on me! -Yarra--yarra--yarr! Oh, doctor--doctor--you'll kill me!" In another -minute the surgeon's work was accomplished, and the acute pain having -passed away, the man recovered his self-possession and impudence. - -"Oh, well, sir, I do hope, now that it's done, it'll do me good. I do -hope that." - -"But it won't do you a bit of good." - -"What, sir, no good?" cried the fellow. - -"No more good," replied Abernethy, "than if I had spat upon it." - -"Then, sir--why--oh, yarr! here's the pain again--why did you do it?" - -"Confound you, man!" answered the surgeon testily. "Why did I do -it?--why, _didn't you ask me to put a seton in your neck_?" - -Of course the surgical treatment employed by Abernethy in this case -was the right one; but he was so nettled with the fellow's impudence -and unmanly lamentations, that he could not forbear playing off upon -him a barbarous jest. - -If for this outbreak of vindictive humour the reader is inclined to -call Abernethy a savage, let his gift of L50 to the widow lady, to pay -for her sick child's carriage exercise, be remembered. _Apropos_ of -L50, Dr. Wilson of Bath sent a present of that sum to an indigent -clergyman, against whom he had come in the course of practice. The -gentleman who had engaged to convey the gift to the unfortunate -priest said, "Well, then, I'll take the money to him to-morrow." "Oh, -my dear sir," said the doctor, "take it to him to-night. Only think of -the importance to a sick man of one good night's rest!" - -Side by side with stories of the benevolence of "the Faculty," piquant -anecdotes of their stinginess might be told. This writer knew formerly -a grab-all-you-can-get surgeon, who was entertaining a few -professional brethren at a Sunday morning's breakfast, when a patient -was ushered into the ante-room of the surgeon's bachelor chambers, and -the surgeon himself was called away to the visitor. Unfortunately he -left the folding-doors between the breakfast-room and the ante-room -ajar, and his friends sitting in the former apartment overheard the -following conversation: - -"Well, my friend, what's the matter?"--the surgeon's voice. - -The visitor's voice--"Plaze, yer honner, I'm a pore Hirish labourer, -but I can spill a bit, and I read o' yer honner's moighty foine cure -in the midical jarnal--the _Lancet_. And I've walked up twilve miles -to have yer honner cure me. My complaint is ----" - -Surgeon's voice, contemptuously--"Oh, my good man, you've made a -mistake. You'd better go to the druggist's shop nearest your home, and -he'll do for you all you want. You couldn't pay me as I require to be -paid." - -Visitor's voice, proudly and triumphantly--"Och, an' little ye know an -Irish gintleman, dochter, if ye think he'd be beholden to the best of -you for a feavor. Here's a bit o' gould--nocht liss nor a tin shillin' -piece, but I've saved it up for ye, and ye'll heve the whole, tho' its -every blissed farthing I hev." - -The surgeon's voice altered. The case was gone into. The prescription -was written. The poor Irish drudge rose to go, when the surgeon, with -that delicate quantity of conscience that rogues always have to make -themselves comfortable upon, said, "Now, you say you have no more -money, my friend. Well, the druggist will charge you eighteenpence for -the medicine I have ordered there. So there's eighteenpence for you -out of your half-sovereign." - -We may add that this surgeon was then, at a moderate computation, -making three thousand a year. We have heard of an Old Bailey barrister -boasting how he wrung the shillings (to convert the sovereigns already -paid with his brief into guineas) from the grimed hands of a prisoner -actually standing in the dock for trial, ere he would engage to defend -him. But compared with this surgeon the man of the long robe was a -disinterested friend of the oppressed. - -A better story yet of a surgeon who seized on his fee like a hawk. A -clergyman of ----shire, fell from a branch of a high pear-tree to the -grass-plot of the little garden that surrounded his vicarage-house, -and sustained, besides being stunned, a compound fracture of the right -arm. His wife, a young and lovely creature, of a noble but poor -family, to whom he had been married only three or four years, was -terribly alarmed, and without regulating her conduct by considerations -of her pecuniary means, dispatched a telegraphic message to an eminent -London surgeon. In the course of three or four hours the surgeon made -his appearance, and set the broken limb. - -"And what, sir," the young wife timidly asked of the surgeon, when he -had come down-stairs into her little drawing-room, "is your fee?" - -"Oh, let's see--distance from town, hundred miles. Yes. Then my fee is -a hundred guineas!" - -Turning deadly pale with fright (for the sum was ten times the highest -amount the poor girl had thought of as a likely fee) she rose, and -left the room, saying, "Will you be kind enough to wait for a few -minutes?" - -Luckily her brother (like her husband, a clergyman, with very moderate -preferment) was in the house, and he soon made his appearance in the -drawing-room. "Sir," said he, addressing the operator, "my sister has -just now been telling me the embarrassment she is in, and I think it -best to repeat her story frankly. She is quite inexperienced in money -matters, and sent for you without ever asking what the ordinary fee to -so distinguished a surgeon as yourself, for coming so far from London, -might be. Well, sir, it is right you should know her circumstances. My -brother-in-law has no property but his small living, which does not -yield him more than L400 per annum, and he has already two children. -My sister has no private fortune whatever, at present, and all she has -in prospect is the reversion of a trifling sum--at a distant period. -Poverty is the only stigma that time has fixed upon my family. Now, -sir, under the circumstances, if professional etiquette would allow of -your reducing your fee to the straitened finances of my sister, it -really would--would be--" - -"Oh, my dear sir," returned the surgeon, in a rich, unctuous voice of -benevolence, "pray don't think I'm a shark. I am really deeply -concerned for your poor sister. As for my demand of _a hundred -guineas_, since it would be beyond her means to satisfy it, why, my -dear sir, I shall be only too delighted to be allowed--_to take a -hundred pounds_!" - -The fee-loving propensities of doctors are well illustrated by the -admirable touches of Froissart's notice of Guyllyam of Harseley, who -was appointed physician to Charles the Sixth, King of France, during -his derangement. The writer's attention was first called to -Friossart's sketch of the renowned mad-doctor by his friend Mr. -Edgar--a gentleman whose valuable contributions to historical -literature have endeared his name to both young and old. Of the -measures adopted by Guyllyam for the king's cure the readers of -Froissart are not particularly informed; but it would appear, from the -physician's parting address to the "dukes of Orlyance, Berrey, -Burgoyne, and Burbone," that his system was, in its enlightened -humanity, not far behind that adopted at the present day by Dr. -Conolly and Dr. Forbes Winslow. But, however this may be, Guyllyam's -labours must be regarded as not less consonant with sound nosological -views than those of the afflicted monarch's courtiers, until it can be -shown that his treatment was worse than leaving Nature to herself. -"They," says Froissart, "that were about the kynge sente the kynge's -offrynge to a town called Aresneche, in the countie of Heynaulte, -between Cambrey and Valancennes, in the whiche towne there was a -churche parteyning to an Abbey of Saynt Waste in Arrasce wherein there -lyeth a saynte, called Saynt Acquayre, of whom there is a shrine of -sylver, which pylgrimage is sought farre and nere for the malady of -the fransey; thyder was sent a man of waxe, representynge the Frenche -Kynge, and was humbly offred to the Saynt, that he might be meane to -God, to asswage the kynge's malady, and to sende him helthe. In -lykewise the kynge's offrynge was sent to Saynt Hermyer in Romayes, -which saynt had meryte to heal the fransey. And in lykewise offrynges -were sent into other places for ye same entent." - -The conclusion of Guyllyam's attendance is thus described:--"Trewe it -is this sycknesse that the kyng took in the voyage towards Bretagne -greatly abated the ioye of the realme of France, and good cause why, -for when the heed is sicke the body canne have no ioye. No man durste -openly speke thereof, but kepte it privy as moche as might be, and it -was couertly kept fro the queene, for tyll she was delyuered and -churched she knewe nothynge thereof, which tyme she had a doughter. -The physician, myster Guyllyam, who had the chefe charge of healynge -of the kynge, was styll aboute hym, and was ryght dyligent and well -acquyted hymselfe, whereby he gate bothe honour and profyte; for -lytell and lytell he brought the kynge in good estate, and toke away -the feuer and the heate, and made hym to haue taste and appetyte to -eate and drinke, slepe and rest, and knowledge of every thynge; -howebeit, he was very feble, and lytell and lytell he made the kynge -to ryde a huntynge and on hawkynge; and whanne tydynges was knowen -through France howe the kynge was well mended, and had his memory -again, every man was ioyfull and thanked God. The kynge thus beyng at -Crayell, desyred to se the quene his wyfe and the dolphyn his sonne; -so the quene came thyder to hym, and the chylde was brought thyder, -the kynge made them good chere, and so lytell and lytell, through the -helpe of God, the kynge recouered his helthe. And when mayster -Guyllyam sawe the kynge in so good case he was ryght ioyfull, as -reasone was, for he hade done a fayre cure, and so delyuered him to -the dukes of Orlyance, Berrey, Burgoyne, and Burbone, and sayd: 'My -lordes, thanked be God, the kynge is nowe in good state and helth, so -I delyuer him, but beware lette no mane dysplease hym, for as yet his -spyrytes be no fully ferme nor stable, but lytell and lytell he shall -waxe stronge; reasonable dysporte, rest, and myrthe shall be moste -profytable for hym; and trouble hym as lytell as may be with any -counsayles, for he hath been sharpely handeled with a hote malady.' -Than it was consydred to retaygne this mayster Guyllyam, and to gyve -hym that he shulde be content with all, _whiche is the ende that all -physicians requyre, to haue gyftes and rewardes_; he was desyred to -abyde styll about the kynge, but he excused hymselfe, and sayd howe he -was an olde impotent man, and coulde note endure the maner of courte, -wherfore he desyred to returne into his owne countrey. Whan the -counsayle sawe he wolde none otherwyse do, they gaue him leaue, and at -his departing _gave him a thousand crownes, and retayned hym in wages -with four horses whansover he wolde resorte to the courte_; howbeit, I -beleve he never came there after, for whan he retournd to the cytie of -Laon, there he contynued and dyed a ryche man: he left behynde him a -xxx thousand frankes. All his dayes he was one of the greatest -nygardes that ever was: all his pleasure was to get good and to spende -nothynge, for in his howse he neuer spente past two souses of Parys -in a day, but wolde eate and drinke in other mennes howses, where as -he myght get it. _With this rodde lyghtly all physicyons are -beaten._"[19] - - [19] Froissart's Chronicles, translated by John Bouchier, Lord - Berners. - -The humane advice given by Guyllym countenances the tradition that -cards were invented for the amusement of his royal patient. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -BLEEDING. - - -Fashion, capricious everywhere, is especially so in surgery and -medicine. Smoking we are now taught to regard as a pernicious -practice, to be abhorred as James the First abhorred it. Yet Dr. -Archer, and Dr. Everard in his "Panacea, or a Universal Medicine, -being a discovery of the wonderful virtues of Tobacco" (1659), warmly -defended the habit, and for long it was held by the highest -authorities to be an efficacious preservative against disease. What -would schoolboys now say to being flogged for _not_ smoking? Yet -Thomas Hearne, in his diary (1720-21) writes--"Jan. 21, I have been -told that in the last great plague in London none that kept -tobacconists' shops had the plague. It is certain that smoking was -looked upon as a most excellent preservative. In so much, that even -children were obliged to smoak. And I remember that I heard formerly -Tom Rogers, who was yeoman beadle, say, that when he was that year, -when the plague raged, a school-boy at Eton, all the boys of that -school were obliged to smoak in the school every morning, and that he -was never whipped so much in his life as he was one morning for not -smoaking." - -Blood-letting, so long a popular remedy with physicians, has, like -tobacco-smoking for medicinal purposes, fallen into disuse and -contempt. From Hippocrates to Paracelsus, who, with characteristic -daring, raised some objections to the practice of venesection, doctors -were in the habit of drawing disease from the body as vintners extract -claret from a cask, in a ruddy stream. In the feudal ages bleeding was -in high favour. Most of the abbeys had a "flebotomaria" or -"bleeding-house," in which the sacred inmates underwent bleedings (or -"minutions" as they were termed) at stated periods of the year, to the -strains of psalmody. The brethren of the order of St. Victor underwent -five munitions annually--in September, before Advent, before Lent, -after Easter, and at Pentecost. - -There is a good general view of the superstitions and customs -connected with venesection, in "The Salerne Schoole," a poem of which -mention continually occurs in the writings of our old physicians. The -poem commences with the following stanza:-- - - "The 'Salerne Schoole' doth by these lines impart - All health to England's king, and doth advise - From care his head to keepe, from wrath his hart. - Drink not much wine, sup light and soon arise, - When meat is gone long sitting breedeth smart; - And afternoon still waking keep your eies. - . . . . . - Use three physicians still--first Doctor _Quiet_, - Next Doctor _Merriman_ and Doctor _Dyet_. - - "Of bleeding many profits grow and great - The spirits and sences are renew'd thereby, - Thogh these mend slowly by the strength of meate, - But these with wine restor'd are by-and-by; - By bleeding to the marrow commeth heate, - It maketh cleane your braine, releeves your eie, - It mends your appetite, restoreth sleepe, - Correcting humors that do waking keep: - All inward parts and sences also clearing, - It mends the voice, touch, smell, and taste, and hearing. - - "_Three special months_, _September_, _Aprill_, _May_, - There are in which 'tis good to ope a vein-- - In these three months the moon beares greatest sway, - Then old or young, that store of blood containe, - May bleed now, though some elder wizards say, - Some daies are ill in these, I hold it vaine; - September, Aprill, May have daies apeece, - That bleeding do forbid and eating geese, - And those are they, forsooth, of May the first, - Of t'other two, the last of each are worst. - - "But yet those daies I graunt, and all the rest, - Haue in some cases just impediment, - As first, if nature be with cold opprest, - Or if the Region, Ile, or Continent, - Do scorch or freez, if stomach meat detest, - If Baths you lately did frequent, - Nor old, nor young, nor drinkers great are fit, - Nor in long sickness, nor in raging fit, - Or in this case, if you will venture bleeding, - The quantity must then be most exceeding. - - "When you to bleed intend, you must prepare - Some needful things both after and before: - Warm water and sweet oyle both needfull are, - And wine the fainting spirits to restore; - Fine binding cloths of linnen, and beware - That all the morning you do sleepe no more; - Some gentle motion helpeth after bleeding, - And on light meals a spare and temperate feeding - To bleed doth cheare the pensive, and remove - The raging furies bred by burning love. - - "Make your incision large and not too deep, - That blood have speedy yssue with the fume; - So that from sinnews you all hurt do keep. - Nor may you (as I toucht before) presume - In six ensuing houres at all to sleep, - Lest some slight bruise in sleepe cause an apostume; - Eat not of milke, or aught of milke compounded, - Nor let your brain with much drinke be confounded; - Eat no cold meats, for such the strength impayre, - And shun all misty and unwholesome ayre. - - "Besides the former rules for such as pleases - Of letting bloud to take more observation; - . . . . . - To old, to young, both letting blood displeases. - By yeares and sickness make your computation. - First in the spring for quantity you shall - Of bloud take twice as much as in the fall; - In spring and summer let the right arme bloud, - The fall and winter for the left are good." - -Wadd mentions an old surgical writer who divides his chapter on -bleeding under such heads as the following:--1. What is to limit -bleeding? 2. Qualities of an able phlebotomist; 3. Of the choice of -instruments; 4. Of the band and bolster; 5. Of porringers; 6. -_Circumstances to be considered at the bleeding of a Prince._ - -Simon Harward's "Phlebotomy, or Treatise of Letting of Bloud; fitly -serving, as well for an advertisement and remembrance to all -well-minded chirurgians, as well also to give a caveat generally to -all men to beware of the manifold dangers which may ensue upon rash -and unadvised letting of bloud," published in the year 1601, contains -much interesting matter on the subject of which it treats. But a yet -more amusing work is one that Nicholas Gyer wrote and published in -1592, under the following title:-- - -"The English Phlebotomy; or, Method and Way of Healing by Letting of -Bloud." - -On the title-page is a motto taken from the book of Proverbs--"The -horse-leach hath two daughters, which crye, 'give, give.'" - -[Illustration: _THE FOUNDERS OF THE MEDICAL SOCIETY OF LONDON_] - -The work affords some valuable insight into the social status of the -profession in the sixteenth century. - -In his dedicatory letter to Master Reginald Scot, Esquire, the author -says that phlebotomy "is greatly abused by vagabund horse-leaches -and travailing tinkers, who find work almost in every village through -whom it comes (having in truth neither knowledge, nor witte, nor -honesty), the sober practitioner and cunning chirurgian liveth basely, -is despised, and accounted a very abject amongst the vulgar sort." Of -the medical skill of Sir Thomas Eliot, and Drs. Bulleyn, Turner, -Penie, and Coldwel, the author speaks in terms of warm eulogy; but as -for the tinkers aforementioned, he would regard them as murderers, and -"truss them up at Tyborne." - -Gyer, who indulges in continual reference to the "Schola Salerni," -makes the following contribution to the printed metrical literature on -Venesection:-- - - "_Certaine very old English verses, concerning the veines - and letting of bloud, taken out of a very auncient paper - book of Phisicke notes_:-- - - "Ye maisters that usen bloud-letting, - And therewith getten your living; - Here may you learn wisdome good, - In what place ye shall let bloud. - For man, in woman, or in child, - For evils that he wood and wild. - There beene veynes thirty-and-two, - For wile is many, that must he undo. - Sixteene in the head full right, - And sixteene beneath I you plight. - In what place they shall be found, - I shall you tell in what stound. - Beside the eares there beene two, - That on a child mote beene undoe; - To keep his head from evil turning - And from the scale withouten letting. - And two at the temples must bleede, - For stopping and aking I reede; - And one is in the mid forehead, - For Lepry or for sawcefleme that mote bleede. - Above the nose forsooth is one, - That for the frensie mote be undone. - Also when the eien been sore, - For the red gowt evermore. - And two other be at the eien end. - If thy bleeden them to amend. - And the arch that comes thorow smoking, - I you tell withouten leasing. - And at the whole of the throat, there beene two, - That Lepry and straight breath will undoo. - In the lips foure there beene, - Able to bleede I tell it be deene, - Two beneath, and above also - I tell thee there beene two. - For soreness of the mouth to bleede, - When it is flawne as I thee reede. - And two in the tongue withouten lie, - Mote bleede for the quinancie. - And when the tongue is aught aking, - For all manner of swelling. - Now have I tolde of certaine, - That longer for the head I weene, - And of as many I will say, - That else where there beene in fay. - In every arme there beene fife, - Full good to blede for man and wife, - _Cephalica_ is one I wis, - The head veyne he cleaped is, - The body above and the head; - He cleanseth for evil and qued. - In the bought of the arme also, - An order there must he undoo; - Basilica his name is, - Lowest he sitteth there y wis; - Forsooth he cleanseth the liver aright, - And all other members beneath I twight. - The middle is between the two, - Corall he is clipped also - That veine cleanseth withouten doubt; - Above and beneath, within and without. - For Basilica that I of told, - One braunched veine ety up full bold, - To the thomb goeth that one braunch; - The cardiacle he wil staunch, - That there braunch full right goeth, - To the little finger withouten oth; - _Saluatell_ is his name, - He is a veine of noble fame; - There is no veine that cleanseth so clene, - The stopping of the liver and splene. - Above the knuckles of the feet, - With two veines may thou meet, - Within sitteth _Domestica_, - And without _Saluatica_. - . . . . . - All the veines thee have I told, - That cleanseth man both yong and old. - If thou use them at thy need, - These foresaid evils they dare not dread; - So that our Lord be them helping, - That all hath in his governing. - So mote it be, so say all wee, - Amen, amen, for charitee." - -To bleed on May-day is still the custom with ignorant people in a few -remote districts. The system of vernal minutions probably arose from -that tendency in most men to repeat an act (simply because they have -done it once) until it has become a habit, and then superstitiously to -persevere in the habit, simply because it is a habit. How many aged -people read certain antiquated journals, as they wear exploded -garments, for no other reason than that they read the same sort of -literature, and wore the same sort of habiliments, when young. To miss -for once the performance of a periodically recurring duty, and so to -break a series of achievements, would worry many persons, as the -intermitted post caused Dr. Johnson discomfort till he had returned -and touched it. As early as the sixteenth century, we have Gyer -combating the folly of people having recourse to periodic -venesections. "There cometh to my minde," he says, "a common opinion -among the ignorant people, which do certainly beleeve that, if any -person be let bloud one yere, he must be let bloud every yere, or else -he is (I cannot tell, nor they neither) in how great danger. Which -fonde opinion of theirs, whereof soever the same sprong first, it is -no more like to be true, than if I should say: when a man hath -received a great wound by chaunce in any part of his body, whereby he -loseth much bloud; yet after it is healed, he must needs have the like -wounde againe there the next yeare, to avoid as much bloud, or els he -is in daunger of great sickness, yea, and also in hazard to lose his -life." - -The practitioners of phlebotomy, and the fees paid for the operation, -have differed widely. In the middle of the last century a woman used -the lancet with great benefit to her own pocket, if not to her -patients, in Marshland, in the county of Norfolk. What her charge was -is unknown, probably, however, only a few pence. A distinguished -personage of the same period (Lord Radnor) had a great fondness for -letting the blood (at the point of an amicable lancet--not a hostile -sword) of his friends. But his Lordship, far from accepting a fee, was -willing to remunerate those who had the courage to submit to his -surgical care. Lord Chesterfield, wanting an additional vote for a -coming division in the House of Peers, called on Lord Radnor, and, -after a little introductory conversation, complained of a distressing -headache. - -"You ought to lose blood then," said Lord Radnor. - -"Gad--do you indeed think so? Then, my dear lord, do add to the -service of your advice by performing the operation. I know you are a -most skilful surgeon." - -Delighted at the compliment, Lord Radnor in a trice pulled out his -lancet-case, and opened a vein in his friend's arm. - -"By-the-by," asked the patient, as his arm was being adroitly bound -up, "do you go down to the House to-day?" - -"I had not intended going," answered the noble operator, "not being -sufficiently informed on the question which is to be debated; but you, -that have considered it, which side will you vote on?" - -In reply, Lord Chesterfield unfolded his view of the case; and Lord -Radnor was so delighted with the reasoning of the man (who held his -surgical powers in such high estimation), that he forthwith promised -to support the wily earl's side in the division. - -"I have shed my blood for the good of my country," said Lord -Chesterfield that evening to a party of friends, who, on hearing the -story, were convulsed with laughter. - -Steele tells of a phlebotomist who advertised, for the good of -mankind, to bleed at "threepence per head." Trade competition has, -however, induced practitioners to perform the operation even without -"the threepence." In the _Stamford Mercury_ for March 28, 1716, the -following announcement was made:--"Whereas the majority of -apothecaries in Boston have agreed to pull down the price of bleeding -to sixpence, let these certifie that Mr Clarke, apothecary, will bleed -anybody at his shop _gratis_." - -The readers of Smollett may remember in one of his novels the story of -a gentleman, who, falling down in his club in an apoplectic fit, was -immediately made the subject of a bet between two friendly bystanders. -The odds were given and accepted against the sick man's recovery, and -the wager was duly registered, when a suggestion was made by a more -humane spectator that a surgeon ought to be sent for. "Stay," -exclaimed the good fellow interested in having a fatal result to the -attack, "if he is let blood, or interfered with in any way, the bet -doesn't hold good." This humorous anecdote may be found related as an -actual occurrence in Horace Walpole's works. It was doubtless one of -the "good stories" current in society, and was so completely public -property, that the novelist deemed himself entitled to use it as he -liked. In certain recent books of "ana" the incident is fixed on -Sheridan and the Prince Regent, who are represented as the parties to -the bet. - -Elsewhere mention has been made of a thousand pounds _ordered_ to be -paid Sir Edmund King for promptly bleeding Charles the Second. A -nobler fee was given by a French lady to a surgeon, who used his -lancet so clumsily that he cut an artery instead of a vein, in -consequence of which the lady died. On her death-bed she, with -charming humanity and irony, made a will, bequeathing the operator a -life annuity of eight hundred livres, on condition "that he never -again bled anybody so long as he lived." In the _Journal -Encylopedique_ of Jan. 15, 1773, a somewhat similar story is told of a -Polish princess, who lost her life in the same way. In her will, made -_in extremis_, there was the following clause:--"Convinced of the -injury that my unfortunate accident will occasion to the unhappy -surgeon who is the cause of my death, I bequeath to him a life annuity -of two hundred ducats, secured by my estate, and forgive his mistake -from my heart: I wish this may indemnify him for the discredit which -my sorrowful catastrophe will bring upon him." - -A famous French Marechal reproved the clumsiness of a phlebotomist in -a less gratifying manner. Drawing himself away from the bungling -operator, just as the incision was about to be made, he displayed an -unwillingness to put himself further in the power of a practitioner, -who, in affixing the fillet, had given him a blow with the elbow in -the face. - -"My Lord," said the surgeon, "it seems that you are afraid of the -bleeding." - -"No," returned the Marechal, "not of the bleeding--but the bleeder." - -Monsieur, brother of Louis XIV., had an insuperable aversion to the -operation, however dexterous might be the operator. At Marly, while at -table with the King, he was visited with such ominous symptoms, that -Fochon, the first physician of the court, said--"You are threatened -with apoplexy, and you cannot be too soon blooded." - -But the advice was not acted on, though the King entreated that it -might be complied with. - -"You will find," said Louis, "what your obstinacy will cost you. We -shall be awoke some of these nights to be told that you are dead." - -The royal prediction, though not fulfilled to the letter, soon proved -substantially true. After a gay supper at St. Cloud, Monsieur, just as -he was about to retire to bed, quitted the world. He was asking M. de -Ventadour for a glass of liqueur sent him by the Duke of Savoy, when -he dropped down dead. Anyhow Monsieur went out of this life thinking -of something nice. The Marquis of Hertford, with all his -deliberation, could not do more. - -The excess to which the practice of venesection was carried in the -last century is almost beyond belief. The _Mercure de France_ (April, -1728, and December, 1729) gives the particulars of the illness of a -woman named Gignault. She was aged 24 years, was the wife of an -hussar, and resided at St. Sauge, a town of the Nivernois. Under the -direction of Monsieur Theveneau, Seigneur de Palmery, M.D., of St. -Sauge, she was bled three thousand nine hundred and four times in nine -months (_i. e._ from the 6th of September, 1726, to the 3rd of June, -1727). By the 15th of July, in the same year, the bleedings numbered -four thousand five hundred and fifty-five. From the 6th of September, -1726, to the 1st of December, 1729, the blood-lettings amounted to -twenty-six thousand two hundred and thirty. Did this really occur? Or -was the editor of the _Mercure de France_ the original Baron -Munchausen? - -Such an account as the above ranges us on the side of the German -physician, who petitioned that the use of the lancet might be made -penal. Garth's epigram runs:-- - - "Like a pert skuller, one physician plies, - And all his art and all his skill he tries; - But two physicians, like a pair of oars, - Conduct you faster to the Stygian shores." - -It would, however, be difficult to imagine a quicker method to destroy -human life than that pursued by Monsieur Theveneau. A second adviser -could hardly have accelerated his movements, or increased his -determination not to leave his reduced patient a chance of recovery. - -"A rascal," exclaimed a stout, asthmatic old gentleman, to a -well-dressed stranger on Holborn Hill--"a rascal has stolen my hat. I -tried to overtake him--and I'm--so--out of breath--I can't stir -another inch." The stranger eyed the old gentleman, who was panting -and gasping for hard life, and then pleasantly observing, "Then I'm -hanged, old boy, if I don't have your wig," scampered off, leaving his -victim bald as a baby. M. Theveneau was the two thieves in one. He -first brought his victim to a state of helplessness, and then "carried -out his little system." It would be difficult to assign a proper -punishment to such a stupid destroyer of human life. Formerly, in the -duchy of Wurtemberg, the public executioner, after having sent out of -the world a certain number of his fellow-creatures, was dignified with -the degree of doctor of physic. It would not be otherwise than well to -confer on such murderous physicians as M. Theveneau the honorary rank -of hangman extraordinary. - -The incomes that have been realized by blood-letting alone are not -less than those which, in the present day, are realized by the -administration of chloroform. An eminent phlebotomist, not very many -years since, made a thousand per annum by the lancet. - -About blood-letting--by the lancet, leeches, and cupping (or _boxing_, -as it was called in Elizabeth's days, and much later)--the curious can -obtain many interesting particulars in our old friend Bulleyn's works. - -To open a vein has for several generations been looked on as beneath -the dignity of the leading professors of medicine or surgery. In some -cases phlebotomy was practised as a sort of specialty by surgeons of -recognised character: but generally, at the close of the last century, -it was left, as a branch of practice, in the hands of the apothecary. -The occasions on which physicians have of late years used the lancet -are so few, that it is almost a contribution to medical gossip to -bring up a new instance. One of the more recent cases of a notability -being let blood by a physician, was when Sir Lucas Pepys, on Oct. 2, -1806, bled the Princess of Wales. On that day, as her Royal Highness -was proceeding to Norbury Park, to visit Mr. Locke, in a barouche -drawn by four horses, the carriage was upset at Leatherhead. Of the -two ladies who accompanied the Princess, one (Lady Sheffield) escaped -without a bruise, but the other (Miss Cholmondley) was thrown to the -ground and killed on the spot. The injuries sustained by the Princess -were very slight, but Sir Lucas Pepys, who luckily happened to be in -the neighbourhood at the time of the accident, bled her on his own -responsibility, and with his own hand. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -RICHARD MEAD. - - -"Dr. Mead," observed Samuel Johnson, "lived more in the broad sunshine -of life than almost any man." - -Unquestionably the lot of Richard Mead was an enviable one. Without -any high advantages of birth or fortune, or aristocratic connection, -he achieved a European popularity; and in the capital of his own -country had a social position that has been surpassed by no member of -his profession. To the sunshine in which Mead basked, the -lexicographer contributed a few rays; for when James published his -Medicinal Dictionary, the prefatory letter to Mead, affixed to the -work, was composed by Johnson in his most felicitous style. - -"Sir,--That the Medicinal Dictionary is dedicated to you, is to be -imputed only to your reputation for superior skill in those sciences -which I have endeavoured to explain and to facilitate; and you are, -therefore, to consider the address, if it be agreeable to you, as one -of the rewards of merit; and, if otherwise, as one of the -inconveniences of eminence. - -"However you shall receive it, my design cannot be disappointed; -because this public appeal to your judgment will show that I do not -found my hopes of approbation upon the ignorance of my readers, and -that I fear his censure least whose knowledge is the most extensive. I -am, sir, your most obedient humble servant,--R. JAMES." - -But the sunshine did not come to Mead. He attracted it. Polished, -courtly, adroit, and of an equable temper, he seemed pleased with -everybody, and so made everybody pleased with him. Throughout life he -was a Whig--staunch and unswerving, notwithstanding the charges -brought against him by obscure enemies of being a luke-warm supporter -of the constitutional, and a subservient worshipper of the -monarchical, party. And yet his intimate friends were of the adverse -faction. The overbearing, insolent, prejudiced Radcliffe forgave him -his scholarship and politics, and did his utmost to advance his -interests. - -Mead's family was a respectable one in Buckinghamshire. His father was -a theological writer, and one of the two ministers of Stepney, but was -ejected from his preferment for non-conformity on the 24th of August, -1662. Fortunately the dispossessed clerk had a private fortune on -which to maintain his fifteen children, of whom Richard, the eleventh, -was born on the eleventh of August, 1673. The first years of Richard's -life were spent at Stepney, where the Rev. Matthew Mead continued to -minister to a noncomformist congregation, keeping in house Mr. John -Nesbitt, afterwards a conspicuous nonconformist minister, as tutor to -his children. In 1683 or 1684, it being suspected that Mr. Mead was -concerned in certain designs against the government, the worthy man -had to quit his flock and escape from the emissaries of power to -Holland. During the father's residence abroad, Richard was sent to a -classical school kept in Clerkenwell Close, by the nonconformist, -Thomas Singleton, who had formerly been second master of Eton. It was -under this gentleman's tuition that the boy acquired a sound and -extensive knowledge of Latin and Greek. In 1690 he went to Utrecht; -and after studying there for three years, proceeded to Leyden, where -he studied botany and physic. His academical studies concluded, he -travelled with David Polhill and Dr. Thomas Pellet, afterwards -President of the College of Physicians, through Italy, stopping at -Florence, Padua, Naples, and Rome. In the middle of 1696 he returned -to London, with stores of information, refined manners, and a degree -of Doctor of Philosophy and Physic, conferred on him at Padua, on the -sixteenth of August, 1695. Settling at Stepney, and uniting himself -closely with the nonconformists, he commenced the practice of his -profession, in which he rapidly advanced to success. On the ninth of -May, 1703, before he was thirty years of age, he was chosen physician -of St. Thomas's Hospital, in Southwark. On obtaining this preferment -he took a house in Crutched Friars, and year by year increased the -sphere of his operations. In 1711 he moved to Austin Friars, to the -house just vacated by the death of Dr. Howe. The consequences of this -step taught him the value, to a rising doctor, of a house with a good -reputation. Many of Howe's patients had got into a habit of coming to -the house as much as to the physician, and Mead was only too glad to -feel their pulses and flatter them into good humour, sound health, and -the laudable custom of paying double fees. He was appointed Lecturer -on Anatomy to the Company of Barbers and Surgeons. - -He kept himself well before the public, as an author, with his -"Mechanical Account of Poisons," published in 1702; and his treatise -(1704), "De Imperio Solis et Lunae in Corpora humana, et Morbis inde -oriundis." He became a member of the Royal Society; and, in 1707, he -received his M.D. diploma from Oxford, and his admission to the -fellowship of the College of Physicians. - -It has already been stated how Radcliffe engaged to introduce Mead to -his patients. When Queen Anne was on her death-bed, the young -physician was of importance enough to be summoned to the couch of -dying royalty. The physicians who surrounded the expiring queen were -afraid to say what they all knew. The Jacobites wanted to gain time, -to push off the announcement of the queen's state to the last possible -moment, so that the Hanoverians should not be able to take steps for -quietly securing the succession which they desired. Mead, however, was -too earnest a Whig to sacrifice what he believed to be the true -interests of the country to any considerations of the private -advantage that might be derived by currying favour with the Tory -magnates, who, hovering about the Court, were debating how they could -best make their game. Possibly his hopes emboldened him to speak the -truth. Anyhow, he declared, on his first visit, that the queen would -not live an hour. Charles Ford, writing to Swift, said, "This morning -when I went there before nine, they told me she was just expiring. -That account continued above three hours, and a report was carried to -town that she was actually dead. She was not prayed for even in her -own chapel at St. James's; and, _what is more infamous (!)_ stocks -arose three _per cent._ upon it in the city. Before I came away, she -had recovered a warmth in her breast and one of her arms; and all the -doctors agreed she would, in all probability, hold out till -to-morrow--_except Mead, who pronounced, several hours before, she -could not live two minutes, and seems uneasy it did not happen so_." -This was the tone universally adopted by the Jacobites. According to -them, poor Queen Anne had hard measure dealt out to her by her -physicians;--the Tory Radcliffe negatively murdered her by not saving -her; the Whig Mead earnestly desired her death. Certainly the -Jacobites had no reason to speak well of Mead, for the ready courage -with which he stated the queen's demise to be at hand gave a -disastrous blow to their case, and did much to seat George I. quietly -on the throne. Miss Strickland observes, "It has always been -considered that the prompt boldness of this political physician (_i. -e._ Mead) occasioned the peaceable proclamation of George I. The -queen's demise in one hour was confidently predicted by her Whig -doctor. He was often taunted afterwards with the chagrin his -countenance expressed when the royal patient, on being again blooded, -recovered her speech and senses." - -On the death of Radcliffe, the best part of his empire descended to -Mead, who, having already reaped the benefit of occupying the nest -which Howe vacated at the summons of death, wisely resolved to take -possession of Radcliffe's vacated mansion in Bloomsbury Square. This -removal from Austin Friars to the more fashionable quarter of town was -effected without delay. Indeed, Radcliffe was not buried when Mead -entered his house. As his practice lay now more in the West than the -East end of town, the prosperous physician resigned his appointment at -St. Thomas's, and, receiving the thanks of the grand committee for his -services, was presented with the staff of a governor of the charity. -Radcliffe's practice and house were not the only possessions of that -sagacious practitioner which Mead contrived to acquire. Into his hands -also passed the doctor's gold-headed cane of office. This wand became -the property successively of Radcliffe, Askew, Pitcairn, and Baillie, -the arms of all which celebrated physicians are engraved on its head. -On the death of Dr. Baillie, Mrs. Baillie presented the cane, as an -interesting professional relic, to the College of Physicians, in the -library of which august and learned body it is now preserved. Some -years since the late respected Dr. Macmichael made the adventures of -this stick the subject of an agreeable little book, which was -published under the title of "The Gold-Headed Cane." - -The largest income Mead ever made in one year was L7000. For several -years he received between L5000 and L6000 per annum. When the great -depreciation of the currency is taken into account, one may affirm, -with little fear of contradiction, that no living physician is at the -present time earning as much. Mead, however, made his income without -any avaricious or stingy practices. In every respect he displayed -that generosity which has for generations been the glorious -distinction of his profession. At home his fee was a guinea. When he -visited a patient of good rank and condition, in consultation or -otherwise, he expected to have two guineas, or even more. But to the -apothecaries who waited on him at his coffee-houses, he charged (like -Radcliffe) only half-a-guinea for prescriptions, written without -seeing the patient. His evening coffee-house was Batson's, frequented -by the profession even down to Sir William Blizard; and in the -forenoons he received apothecaries at Tom's, near Covent Garden. In -Mead's time the clergy, as a body, were unable to pay the demands -which professional etiquette would have required the physician to make -on them if he had any. It is still the humane custom of physicians and -eminent surgeons not to accept fees from curates, half-pay officers in -the army and navy, and men of letters; and no one has more reason than -the writer of these pages to feel grateful for the delicacy with which -they act on this rule, and the benevolent zeal with which they seem -anxious to drown the sense of obligation (which a gratuitous patient -necessarily experiences) in increased attention and kindness, as if -their good deeds were a peculiar source of pleasure to themselves. - -But in the last century the beneficed clergy were in a very different -pecuniary condition from that which they at present enjoy. Till the -Tithe Communication Act passed, the parson (unless he was a sharp man -of business, shrewd and unscrupulous as a horse-jobber, and ready to -have an unintermittent war with his parishioners) never received -anything like what he was entitled to of the produce of the land. -Often he did not get half his dues; and even when he did obtain a fair -tithe, his receipts were small compared with what his successor in the -present generation has from the same source. Agriculture was then in -such a backward state, and land was so ill-cultivated, that the rector -of a large parish of good land was justly entitled only to a sum that -a modern rent-charge holder would regard with painful surprise if told -that he might take nothing more for his share in the fruits of the -earth. The beneficed clergy were a comparatively poor body. The curate -perhaps was not in a worse state than he is in now, for the simple -reason that a worse can hardly be. To add to the impoverished -appearance of the clerical profession, there existed in every capital -and country town the luckless nonconforming clergy, bereft of the -emoluments of their vocation, and often reduced to a condition -scarcely--if at all--removed from begging. The title of _Reverend_ was -still affixed to their names--their costume was still that of their -order--and by large masses of the people they were regarded with more -reverence and affection than the well-fed Vicars of Bray, who, with -mealy mouths and elastic consciences, saw only the butter on one side -of their bread, and not the dirt on the other. Archbishop Sancroft -died on his little farm in Suffolk, having for years subsisted on -about fifty pounds a-year. When such was the fate of an Archbishop of -Canterbury, the straits to which the ejected vicars or disabled -curates were brought can be imagined--but scarcely described. In the -great towns these unfortunate gentlemen swarmed, gaining a wretched -subsistence as ushers in schools, tutors, secretaries--not -unfrequently as domestic servants. - -In such a condition of the established church, the rule of never -taking money from "the cloth" was almost invariably observed by the -members of the medical profession. - -Mead once--and only once--departed from this rule. Mr. Robert Leake, a -fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge, called on the doctor and -sought his advice. The patient's ill-health had been in a great degree -effected by doctoring himself--that is, exhibiting, according to his -own notions of medical practice, some of Dr. Cheyne's prescriptions. - -"Do as I tell you," said Mead, "and I'll set you up again." - -For a time Leake cheerfully obeyed; but soon--although his case was -progressing most favourably--he had the bad taste to suggest that a -recurrence to some of Cheyne's prescriptions would be advisable. Mead, -of course, was not pleased with such folly, but continued his -attendance till his patient's health was restored. Leake then went -through the form of asking to what amount he was in the physician's -debt. - -"Sir," answered Mead, "I have never yet, in the whole course of my -practice, taken or demanded the least fee from any clergyman; but, -since you have been pleased, contrary to what I have met with in any -other gentleman of your profession, to prescribe to me rather than -follow my prescriptions, when you had committed the care of your -recovery to my skill and trust, you must not take it amiss, nor will, -I hope, think it unfair, if I demand ten guineas of you." - -With much reluctance, and a wry face, Leake paid the money, but the -doctor subsequently returned him more than half of it. - -Of course Mead did not gain the prize of his profession without a few -rough contests with competitors in the race of honour. Woodward, the -Professor of Physic at the Gresham College, attacked him with -bitterness in his "State of Physic and Diseases," and made himself -even more obnoxious in his personal demeanour to him in public. Some -insult offered to him by Woodward so infuriated Mead, that the latter -drew his sword and ordered his adversary to defend himself. The duel -terminated in Mead's favour, as far as martial prowess was concerned, -for he disarmed Woodward and ordered him to beg for his life. - -"Never, till I am your patient," answered Woodward, happily. - -The memory of this AEsculapian battle is preserved in an engraving in -Ward's "Lives of the Gresham Professors." The picture is a view of -Gresham Street College, with a gateway entering from Broad Street, -marked 25, within which Woodward is represented as kneeling and -submissively yielding his sword to Mead. Ward was one of Mead's -warmest friends, and certainly on this occasion displayed his -friendship in a very graceful and effective manner. - -The doctor would gladly have never had to deal with a more dangerous -antagonist than Woodward; but the time came when he had to run for -safety, and that too from a woman. He was in attendance by the -bed-side of the Duke of Marlborough, who was suffering from -indisposition, when her Grace--the celebrated Sarah--flew into a -violent rage at some remark which the physician had dared to make. She -even threatened him with personal chastisement, and was proceeding to -carry out her menaces, when Mead, recognizing the peril of his -position, turned and fled from the room. The duchess ran after him, -and, pursuing him down the grand staircase, vowed she would pull off -his wig, and dash it in his face. The doctor luckily was a better -runner than her Grace, and escaped. - -Envy is the shadow of success, and detraction is the echo of its -voice. A host of pamphleteers, with just courage enough to print lies, -to which they had not the spirit to affix their obscure names, hissed -their malignity at the fortunate doctor. The members of the Faculty, -accustomed though they are to the jealousies and animosities which are -important undercurrents in every fraternity, would in these days -scarcely credit the accounts which could be given of the coarseness -and baseness of the anonymous rascals who lampooned Mead. It is -painful to know that some of the worst offenders were themselves -physicians. In 1722, appeared "The Art of getting into Practice in -Physick, here at present in London. In a letter to that very ingenious -and most learned Physician (Lately come to Town), Dr Timothy -Vanbustle, M.D.--A.B.C.," the writer of this satire attributes to the -dead Radcliffe the practices to which Hannes was accused of having -resorted. "Thus the famous R----fe, 'tis said, on his first arrival, -had half the porters in town employed to call for him at all the -coffee-houses and public places, so that his name might be known." The -sting of the publication, the authorship of which by a strange error -has been attributed _to_ Mead, is throughout directed _at_ him. It is -more than suggested that he, to creep up into practice, had associated -in early life with "women, midwives, nurses, and apothecaries," and -that he had interested motives for being very gentle "in taking fees -of the clergy, of whatsoever sect or opinion." Here is a stab that the -reader of the foregoing pages can appreciate: "As to _Nostrums_, I -cannot much encourage you to trade in these if you would propose to -get universal business; for though they may serve to make you known at -first, particularly in such a way, yet it will not promote general -business, but on the contrary. _I rather therefore would advise you to -court, flatter, and chime in with the chief in Play, and luckily a -noted practitioner should drop, do you be as sure and ready to get -into his house as he is into his coffin._" - -More scandal of this sort may be found in "An account of a Strange and -Wonderful Dream. Dedicated to Doctor M----d," published 1719. It is -insinuated in the dream that his Latin writings were not his own -composition. The troubles of his domestic life are dragged before the -public. "It unluckily happen'd that, just as Mulso discovered his -wife's intrigues, his effects were seized on by his creditors, his -chariot and horses were sold, and he himself reduced to the state of a -foot-quack. In this condition he had continued to this day, had he not -been retrieved from poverty and contempt by the recommendation of a -physician of great note. Upon this he spruced up, looked gay, roll'd -about in a chariot. At this time he fell ill of the _scribendi -cacoethes_, and, by the help of two mathematicians and an usher, was -delivered of a book in a learned language." - -Mead did not long occupy Radcliffe's house in Bloomsbury Square. In -1719 he moved to the imposing residence in Ormond Street, to which in -1732 he added a gallery for the accommodation of his library and -museum. - -Of Mead's various contributions to medical literature it is of course -not the province of this work to speak critically. The _Medica Sacra_ -is a literary curiosity, and so is the doctor's paper published in -1735, in which he recommends a compound of pepper and _lichen cinereus -terrestris_ as a specific against the bite of a mad dog. Dampier, the -traveller, used this lichen for the same purpose. The reader need not -be reminded of the popularity attained by this antidote, dividing the -public favour, as it did, with Dr. James's _Turpeth Mineral_, and the -_Musk_ and _Cinnabar_. - -Mead was married twice. His first wife was Ruth Marsh, the daughter of -a pious London tradesman. She died in 1719, twenty years after her -marriage, leaving behind her four children--three daughters, who all -married well, and one son, William Mead. If any reliance is to be -placed on the statements of the lampoon writers, the doctor was by no -means fortunate in this union. He married, however, a second -time--taking for his bride, when he was more than fifty years old, -Anne, the daughter of Sir Rowland Alston, of Odell, a Bedfordshire -baronet. - -One of the pleasant episodes in Mead's life is his conduct towards his -dear friend and political antagonist, Freind--the Jacobite physician, -and Member of Parliament for Launceston. On suspicion of being -concerned in the Atterbury plot, Freind was committed to the Tower. -During his confinement, that lasted some months, he employed himself -calmly on the composition of a Latin letter, "On certain kinds of -Small-Pox," and the "History of Physic, from the time of Galen to the -Commencement of the Sixteenth Century." Mead busied himself to obtain -his friend's release; and, being called to attend Sir Robert Walpole, -pleaded so forcibly for the prisoner, that the minister allowed him to -be discharged on bail--his sureties being Dr. Mead, Dr. Hulse, Dr. -Levet, and Dr. Hale. To celebrate the termination of Freind's -captivity, Mead called together on a sudden a large party in Ormond -Street, composed of men of all shades of opinion. Just as Freind was -about to take his leave for his own residence in Albemarle Street, -accompanied by Arbuthnot, who resided in Cork Street, Burlington -Gardens, Mead took him aside into a private room, and presented him -with a case containing the fees he had received from the Tory doctor's -patients during his imprisonment. They amounted to no less than five -thousand guineas. - -Mead's style of living was very liberal. From the outset to the close -of his career he was the companion of men whom it was an honour to -treat hospitably. He was the friend of Pope, Newton, and Bentley. His -doors were always open to every visitor who came from a foreign -country to these shores, with any claim whatever on the goodwill of -society. To be at the same time a patron of the arts, and a liberal -entertainer of many guests, demands no ordinary expenditure. Mead died -comparatively poor. The sale of his library, pictures, statues, and -curiosities, realized about L16,000, and he had other property -amounting to about L35,000; but, after the payment of his debts, not -more than L20,000 remained to be divided amongst his four children. -His only son, however, was amply provided for, having entered into the -possession of L30,000 under will of Dr. Mead's unmarried brother -Samuel, an eminent barrister, and a Commissioner of the Customs. - -Fortunate beyond fortunate men, Mead had the great misfortune of -living too long. His sight failed, and his powers underwent that -gradual decay which is the saddest of all possible conclusions to a -vigorous and dignified existence. Stories might be ferreted up of the -indignities to which he submitted at the hands of a domineering valet. -Long, however, before he sunk into second childhood, he excited the -ridicule of the town by his vanity, and absurd pretensions to be a -lady-killer. The extravagances of his amorous senility were whispered -about; and, eventually, some hateful fellow seized hold of the -unpleasant rumours, and published them in a scandalous novelette, -called "The Cornutor of Seventy-five; being a genuine narrative of the -Life, Adventures, and Amours of _Don Ricardo Honeywater_, Fellow of -the Royal College of Physicians at Madrid, Salamanca, and Toledo, and -President of the Academy of Sciences in Lapland; containing, amongst -other most diverting particulars, his intrigue with Donna Maria -W----s, of Via Vinculosa--_anglice_, Fetter Lane--in the city of -Madrid. Written, originally, in Spanish, by the Author of Don Quixot, -and translated into English by a Graduate of the College of Mecca, in -Arabia." The "Puella fabri," as Greenfield designates the damsel who -warmed the doctor's aged heart, was the daughter of a blacksmith in -Fetter Lane; and to please her, Mead--long past threescore years and -ten--went to Paris, and learnt dancing, under Dupre, giving as an -excuse that his health needed active muscular exercise. - -Dr. Mead died on February 16, 1754, in his eighty-first year. He was -buried in the Temple Church, by the side of his brother Samuel. His -memory has been honoured with busts and inscriptions--in Westminster -Abbey, and the College of Physicians. - -Mead was not the first of his name to enter the medical profession. -William George Meade was an eminent physician at Tunbridge Wells; and -dying there on the 4th of November, 1652, was buried at Ware, in -Hertfordshire. This gentleman left L5 a-year for ever to the poor; but -he is more remarkable for longevity than generosity. He died at the -extraordinary age of 148 years and nine months. This is one of the -most astonishing instances of longevity on record. Old Parr, dying at -152 years of age, exceeded it only by 4 years. The celebrated Countess -Desmond was some years more than 140 at the time of her death. Henry -Read, minister of Hardwicke, Co. Northampton, numbered only 132 years; -and the Lancashire woman (the _Cricket of the Hedge_) did not outlive -the 141st year. But all these ages become insignificant when put by -the side of the 169 years to which Henry Jenkins protracted his -earthly sojourn. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -IMAGINATION AS A REMEDIAL POWER. - - -Astrology, alchemy, the once general belief in the healing effects of -the royal touch, the use of charms and amulets, and mesmerism, are -only various exhibitions of one superstition, having for their essence -the same little grain of truth, and for their outward expression -different forms of error. Disconnected as they appear at first sight, -a brief examination discovers the common features which prove them to -be of one family. By turns they have--each of them--given humiliating -evidence of the irrational extravagances that reasoning creatures are -capable of committing; and each of them, also, has conferred some -benefits on mankind. The gibberish of Geber, and the alchemists who -preceded and followed him, led to the study of chemistry, the utility -and importance of which science we have only begun rightly to -appreciate; and a curiosity about the foolishness of astrology led Sir -Isaac Newton to his astronomical inquiries. Lord Bacon says--"The sons -of chemistry, while they are busy seeking the hidden gold--whether -real or not--have by turning over and trying, brought much profit and -convenience to mankind." And if the delusions of talismans, amulets, -and charms, and the impostures of Mesmer, have had no greater -consequences, they have at least afforded, to the observant and -reflective, much valuable instruction with regard to the constitution -of the human mind. - -In the history of these superstitions we have to consider the -universal faith which men in all ages have entertained in planetary -influence, and which, so long as day and night, and the moon and tides -endure, few will be found so ignorant or so insensible as to question. -The grand end of alchemy was to transmute the base metals into gold; -and it proposed to achieve this by obtaining possession of the -different fires transmitted by the heavenly bodies to our planet, and -subjecting, according to a mysterious system, the comparatively -worthless substances of the mineral world to the forces of these -fires. - -"Now," says Paracelsus, in his "Secrets of Alchemy," "we come to -speake of a manifold spirit or fire, which is the cause of variety and -diversity of creatures, so that there cannot one be found right like -another, and the same in every part; as it may be seen in metals, of -which there is none which hath another like itself; the _Sun_ -produceth his gold; the _Moon_ produceth another metal far different, -to wit, silver; _Mars_ another, that is to say, iron; _Jupiter_ -produceth another kind of metal to wit, tin; _Venus_ another, which is -copper; and _Saturn_ another kind, that is to say, lead: so that they -are all unlike, and several one from another; the same appeareth to be -as well amongst men as all other creatures, the cause whereof is the -multiplicity of fire.... Where there is no great mixture of the -elements, the Sun bringeth forth; where it is a little more thick, the -Moon; where more gross, Venus; and thus, according to the diversity of -mixtures, are produced divers metals; so that no metal appeared in the -same mine like another." - -This, which is an extract from Turner's translation of Paracelsus's -"Secrets of Alchemy" (published in 1655), may be taken as a fair -sample of the jargon of alchemy. - -The same faith in planetary influence was the grand feature of -astrology, which regarded all natural phenomena as the effects of the -stars acting upon the earth. Diseases of all kinds were referable to -the heavenly bodies; and so, also, were the properties of those herbs -or other objects which were believed in as remedial agents. In ancient -medicine, pharmacy was at one period only the application of the -dreams of astrology to the vegetable world. The herb which put an ague -or madness to flight, did so by reason of a mystic power imparted to -it by a particular constellation, the outward signs of which quality -were to be found in its colour or aspect. Indeed, it was not enough -that "a simple," impregnated with curative power by heavenly beams, -should be culled; but it had to be culled at a particular period of -the year, at a particular day of the month, even at a particular hour, -when the irradiating source of its efficacy was supposed to be -affecting it with a peculiar force; and, moreover, it had to be -removed from the ground or the stem on which it grew with a particular -instrument or gesture of the body--a disregard of which forms would -have obviated the kindly influence of the particular star, without -whose benignant aid the physician and the drug were alike powerless. - -Medical practitioners smile now at the mention of these absurdities. -But many of them are ignorant that they, in their daily practice, help -to perpetuate the observance of one of these ridiculed forms. The sign -which every member of the Faculty puts before his prescriptions, and -which is very generally interpreted as an abbreviation for _Recipe_, -is but the astrological symbol of Jupiter. - -[Illustration: _AN ACCIDENT_] - -It was on this principle that a belief became prevalent that certain -objects, either of natural formation or constructed by the instruments -of art, had the power of counteracting noxious agents. An intimate -connection was supposed to exist between the form or colour of an -external substance and the use to which it ought to be put. Red -objects had a mysterious influence on inflammatory diseases; and -yellow ones had a similar power on those who were discoloured with -jaundice. Edward II.'s physician, John of Gaddesden, informs us, "When -the son of the renowned King of England lay sick of the small-pox, I -took care that everything round the bed should be of a red colour, -which succeeded so completely that the Prince was restored to perfect -health without a vestige of a pustule remaining." Even as late as -1765, this was put in practice to the Emperor Francis I. The earliest -talismans were natural objects, with a more or less striking external -character, imagined to have been impressed upon them by the planets of -whose influence they were especially susceptible, and of whose virtues -they were beyond all other substances the recipients. The amulet -(which differs little from the talisman, save in that it must be -worn suspended upon the person it is to protect, whereas the talisman -might be kept by its fortunate possessor locked up in his -treasure-house) had a like origin. - -But when once a superstitious regard was paid to the external marks of -a natural object, it was a short and easy step to produce the -semblances of the revered characters by an artificial process, and -then bestow on them the reverential feelings which had previously been -directed to their originals. The ordinary course taken by a -superstition in its degradation is one where its first sentiment -becomes lost to sight, and its form is dogmatically insisted on. It -was so in that phase of feticism which consisted in the blind reliance -put on artificial talismans and amulets. The original significance of -the talisman--the truth which was embodied in it as the emblem of the -unseen powers that had produced it, in accordance with natural -operations--was forgotten. The rows of lines and scratches, and the -variegations of its colour, were only thought of; and the cunning of -man--ever ready to make a god for himself--was exerted to improve upon -them. In the multitude of new devices came inscriptions of mystic -numbers, strange signs, agglomerations of figures, and scraps from -sacred rituals--Abraxas and Abracadabra, and the Fi-fo-fum nonsense of -the later charms. - -Creatures that were capable of detecting the influence of the -planetary system on that portion of Nature which is unquestionably -affected by it, and of imagining its presence in inanimate objects, -which, to use cautious language, have never been proved by science to -be sensible of such a power, of course magnified its consequences in -all that related to the human intellect and character. The instant in -which a man entered the world was regarded as the one when he was most -susceptible. Indeed, a babe was looked upon as a piece of warm and -pliant wax: and the particular planet which was in the ascendant when -the nurse placed the new child of Adam amongst the people of earth -stamped upon it a distinctive charactery. To be born under a -particular star was then an expression that meant something. On the -nature of the star it depended whether homunculus, squealing out its -first agonies, was to be morose or gentle, patient or choleric, lively -or saturnine, amorous or vindictive--a warrior or a poet--a dreamer or -a man of action. - -Laughing at the refinements of absurdity at which astrology had -arrived in his day, the author of "Hudibras" says:-- - - "There's but the twinkling of a star - Between a man of peace and war; - A thief and justice, fool and knave, - A huffing officer and slave; - A crafty lawyer and a pickpocket, - A great philosopher and a blockhead; - A formal preacher and a player, - A learned physician and manslayer. - As if men from stars did suck - Old age, diseases, and ill-luck, - Wit, folly, honour, virtue, vice, - Travel and women, trade and dice; - And draw, with the first air they breathe, - Battle and murder, sudden death. - Are not these fine commodities - To be imported from the skies, - And vended here amongst the rabble - For staple goods and warrantable?" - -Involved in this view of the universe was the doctrine that some -exceptional individuals were born far superior to the mass of their -fellow-creatures. Absurd as astrology was, still, its postulates -having once been granted, the logic was unassailable which argued that -those few on whose birth lucky stars had shone benignantly, had a -destiny and an organization distinct from those of ordinary mortals. -The dicta of modern liberalism, and the Transatlantic dogma that "all -men are by nature born equal," would have appeared to an orthodox -believer in this planetary religion nothing better than the ravings of -madness or impiety. Monarchs of men, whatever lowly station they at -first occupied in life, were exalted above others because they -possessed a distinctive excellence imparted to them at the hour of -birth by the silent rulers of the night. It was useless to strive -against such authority. To contend with it would have been to wrestle -with the Almighty--ever present in his peculiarly favoured creatures. - -Rulers being such, it was but natural for their servile worshippers to -believe them capable of imparting to others, by a glance of the eye or -a touch of the hand, an infinitesimal portion of the virtue that dwelt -within them. To be favoured with their smiles was to bask in sunshine -amid perfumes. To be visited with their frowns was to be chilled to -the marrow, and feel the hail come down like keen arrows from an angry -sky. To be touched by their robes was to receive new vigour. Hence -came credence in the miraculous power of the imposition of royal, or -otherwise sacred hands. Pyrrhus and Vespasian cured maladies by the -touch of their fingers; and, long before and after them, earthly -potentates and spiritual directors had, both in the East and the West, -to prove their title to authority by displaying the same faculty. - -In our own country more than in any other region of Christendom this -superstition found supporters. From Edward the Confessor down to Queen -Anne, who laid her healing hands on Samuel Johnson, it flourished; and -it was a rash man who, trusting to the blind guidance of human reason -dared to question that manifestation of the divinity which encircles -kingship. Doubtless the gift of money made to each person who was -touched did not tend to bring the cure into dis-esteem. It can be -easily credited that, out of the multitude who flocked to the presence -of Elizabeth and the Stuart kings for the benefit of their miraculous -manipulations, there were many shrewd vagabonds who had more faith in -the coin than in the touch bestowed upon them. The majority, however, -it cannot be doubted, were as sincere victims of delusion as those -who, at the close of the last century, believed in the efficacy of -metallic tractors, and those who now unconsciously expose their -intellectual infirmity as advocates of electro-biology and -spirit-rapping. The populace, as a body, unhesitatingly believed that -their sovereigns possessed this faculty as the anointed of the Lord. A -story is told of a Papist, who, much to his astonishment, was cured of -the king's evil by Elizabeth, after her final rupture with the court -of Rome. - -"Now I perceive," cried the man, "by plain experience that the -excommunication against the Queen is of no effect, since God hath -blessed her with such a gift." - -Nor would it be wise to suppose that none were benefited by the -treatment. The eagerness with which the vulgar crowd to a sight, and -the intense excitement with which London mobs witness a royal -procession to the houses of Parliament, or a Lord Mayor's pageant on -its way from the City to Westminster, may afford us some idea of the -inspiriting sensations experienced by a troop of wretches taken from -their kennels to Whitehall, and brought into personal contact with -their sovereign--their ideal of grandeur! Such a trip was a stimulus -to the nervous system, compared with which the shock of a galvanic -battery would have been but the tickling of a feather. And, over and -above this, was the influence of imagination, which in many ways may -become an agent for restoring the tone of the nervous system, and so -enabling Nature to overcome the obstacles of her healthy action. - -Montaigne admirably treated this subject in his essay, "Of the Force -of Imagination"; and his anecdote of the happy results derived by an -unfortunate nobleman from the use of a flat gold plate, graven with -celestial figures, must have occurred to many of his readers who have -witnessed the beneficial effects which are frequently produced by the -practices of quackery. - -"These apes' tricks," says Montaigne, "are the main cause of the -effect, our fancy being so far seduced as to believe that such strange -and uncouth formalities must of necessity proceed from some abstruse -science. Their very inanity gives them reverence and weight." - -And old Burton, touching, in his "Anatomy of Melancholy," on the -power of imagination, says, quaintly:-- - -"How can otherwise blear eyes in one man cause the like affection in -another? Why doth one man's yawning make another man yawn? Why do -witches and old women fascinate and bewitch children; but, as Wierus, -Paracelsus, Cardan, Migaldus, Valleriola, Caesar Vanninus, Campanella, -and many philosophers think, the forcible imagination of one party -moves and alters the spirits of the other. Nay more, they cause and -cure, not only diseases, maladies, and several infirmities by this -means, as 'Avicenna de Anim. 1. 4, sect. 4,' supposeth in parties -remote, but move bodies from their places, cause thunder, lightning, -tempests; which opinion Alkindus, Paracelsus, and some others approve -of." - -In this passage Burton touches not only on the effects of the -imagination, but also on the impression which the nervous energy of -one person may create upon the nervous sensibility of another. That -such an impression can be produced, no one can question who observes -the conduct of men in their ordinary relations to each other. By -whatever term we christen it--endeavouring to define either the cause -or its effect--we all concur in admitting that decision of character, -earnestness of manner, enthusiasm, a commanding aspect, a piercing -eye, or a strong will, exercise a manifest control over common -natures, whether they be acting separately or in masses. - -Of the men who, without learning, or an ennobling passion for truth, -or a high purpose of any kind, have, unaided by physical force, -commanded the attention and directed the actions of large numbers of -their fellow creatures, Mesmer is perhaps the most remarkable in -modern history. But we will not speak of him till we have paid a few -minutes' attention to one of his predecessors. - -The most notable forerunner of Mesmer in this country was Valentine -Greatrakes, who, in Charles the Second's reign, performed "severall -marvaillous cures by the stroaking of the hands." He was a gentleman -of condition, and, at first, the dupe of his own imagination rather -than a deliberate charlatan. He was born on the 14th of February, -1628, on his father's estate of Affane, in the County of Waterford, -and was, on both sides, of more than merely respectable extraction, -his father being a gentleman of good repute and property, and his -mother being a daughter of Sir Edward Harris, Knt, a Justice of the -King's Bench in Ireland. The first years of his school-life were -passed in the once famous Academy of Lismore; but when he had arrived -at thirteen years of age his mother (who had become a widow), on the -outbreak of the rebellion, fled with him and his little brothers and -sisters to England, where the fugitive family were hospitably -entertained by Mr. Edmund Harris, a gentleman of considerable -property, and one of the justice's sons. After concluding his -education in the family of one John Daniel Getseus, a High-German -minister of Stock Gabriel, in the County of Devon, Valentine returned -to Ireland, then distracted with tumult and armed rebellion; and, by -prudently joining the victorious side, re-entered on the possession of -his father's estate of Affane. He served for six years in Cromwell's -forces (from 1650 to 1656) as a lieutenant of the Munster Cavalry, -under the command of the Earl of Orrery. Valentine's commission was -in the earl's regiment; and, from the time of entering the army till -the close of his career is lost sight of, he seems to have enjoyed the -patronage and friendship of that nobleman's family. - -When the Munster horse was disbanded in 1656, Valentine retired to -Affane, and for a period occupied himself as an active and influential -country gentleman. He was made Clerk of the Peace for the County of -Cork, a Register for Transplantation, and a Justice of the Peace. In -the performance of the onerous duties which, in the then disturbed -state of Ireland, these offices brought upon him, he gained deserved -popularity and universal esteem. He was a frank and commanding -personage, of pleasant manners, gallant bearing, fine figure, and -singularly handsome face. With a hearty and musical voice, and a -national stock of high animal spirits, he was the delight of all -festive assemblies, taking his pleasure freely, but never to excess. -Indeed, Valentine was a devout man, not ashamed, in his own household, -and in his bearing to the outer world, to avow that it was his -intention to serve the Lord. But, though he had all the purity of -Puritanism, there was in him no taint of sectarian rancour or -uncharitableness. When an anonymous writer aspersed his reputation, he -responded--and no one could gainsay his words--with regard to his -public career:--"I studied so to acquit myself before God and man in -singleness and integrity of heart, that, to the comfort of my soul, -and praise of God that directed me, I can with confidence say I never -took bribe nor reward from any man, though I had many and great ones -before me (when I was Register for Transplantation); nor did I ever -connive at or suffer a malefactor to go unpunished, if the person were -guilty of any notorious crime (when I had power), nor did I ever take -the fee belonging to my office, if I found the person were injured, or -in want; nor did I ever commit any one for his judgment and conscience -barely, so it led him not to do anything to the disturbance of the -civil peace of the nation; nor did I take anything for my fee when he -was discharged--for I bless God he has taken away a persecuting spirit -from me, who would persuade all men to be Protestants, those -principles being most consonant to Truth and the Word of God, in my -judgment, and that profession which I have ever been of, and still -am.... Yet (though there were orders from the power that then was, to -all Justices of the Peace, for Transplanting all Papists that would -not go to church), I never molested any one that was known or esteemed -to be innocent, but suffered them to continue in the English quarters, -and that without prejudice. So that I can truly say, I never injured -any man for his conscience, conceiving that ought to be informed and -not enforced." - -On the Restoration, Valentine Greatrakes lost his offices, and was -reduced to the position of a mere private gentleman. His estate at -Affane was a small one; but he laboured on it with good results, -introducing into his neighbourhood a more scientific system of -agriculture than had previously been known there, and giving an -unprecedented quantity of employment to the poor. Perhaps he missed -the excitement of public business, and his energies, deprived of the -vent they had for many years enjoyed, preyed upon his sensitive -nature. Anyhow, he became the victim of his imagination, which, acting -on a mind that had been educated in a school of spiritual earnestness -and superstitious introspection, led him into a series of remarkable -hallucinations. He first had fits of pensiveness and dejection, -similar to those which tormented Cromwell ere his genius found for -itself a more fit field of display than the management of a brewery -and a few acres of marsh-land. Ere long he had an impulse, or a -strange persuasion in his own mind (of which he was not able to give -any rational account to another), which did very frequently suggest to -him that there was bestowed on him the gift of curing the King's Evil, -which for the extraordinariness of it, he thought fit to conceal for -some time, but, at length communicated to his wife, and told her, -"That he did verily believe that God had given him the blessing of -curing the King's Evil; for, whether he were in private or publick, -sleeping or waking, still he had the same impulse; but her reply was -to him, that she conceived this was a strange imagination." Such is -his statement. - -Patients either afflicted with King's Evil, or presumed to be so, were -in due course brought before him; and, on his touching them, they -recovered. It may be here remarked that in the days when the Royal -Touch was believed in as a cure for scrofula, the distinctions between -strumous and other swellings were by no means ascertained even by -physicians of repute; and numbers of those who underwent the -manipulation of Anointed Rulers were suffering only from aggravated -boils and common festering sores, from which, as a matter of course, -nature would in the space of a few weeks have relieved them. -Doubtless many of Valentine's patients were suffering, not under -scrofulous affections, but comparatively innocent tumours; for his -cures were rapid, complete, and numerous. A second impulse gave him -the power of curing ague; and a third inspiration of celestial aura -imparted to him command, under certain conditions, over all human -diseases. His modes of operation were various. When an afflicted -person was laid before him, he usually offered up a prayer to God to -help him, to make him the humble instrument of divine mercy. And -invariably when a patient derived benefit from his treatment, he -exhorted him to offer up his thanks to his Heavenly Father. After the -initiatory supplication the operator passed his hands over the -affected part of the sick person's body, sometimes over the skin -itself and sometimes over the clothes. The manipulations varied in -muscular force from delicate tickling to violent rubbing, according to -the nature of the evil spirits by which the diseased people were -tormented. Greatrakes's theory of disease was the scriptural one: the -morbific power was a devil, which had to be expelled from the frame in -which it had taken shelter. Sometimes the demon was exorcised by a few -gentle passes; occasionally it fled at the verbal command of the -physician, or retreated on being gazed at through the eyes of the -mortal it tormented; but frequently the victory was not gained till -the healer rubbed himself--like the rubber who in our own day makes -such a large income at Brighton--into a red face and a copious -perspiration. Henry Stubbe, a famous physician in Stratford-upon-Avon, -in his "Miraculous Conformist," published in 1666, gives the -following testimony:-- - -"_Proofs that he revives the Ferment of the Blood._--Mr Bromley's -brother, of Upton upon Severne, after a long quartane Ague, had by a -Metastasis of the Disease such a chilnesse in the habit of the body, -that no clothes could possibly warme him; he wore upon his head many -spiced caps, and tenne pounds weight of linen on his head. Mr -Greatarick stripped him, and rubbed him all over, and immediately he -sweat, and was hot all over, so that the bath never heated up as did -the hand of Mr Greatarick's; this was his own expression. But Mr -Greatarick causing him to cast off all that multitude of caps and -cloaths, it was supposed that it frustrated the happy effect, for he -felt the recourse of his disease in some parts rendered the cure -suspicious. But as often as Mr Greatarick came and rubbed him he would -be all in a flame againe for half-an-hour: the experiment whereof was -frequently practised for five or six dayes at Ragly." - -Greatrakes himself also speaks of his more violent curative exertions -making him very hot. But it was only occasionally that he had to -labour so vehemently. His eye, the glance of which had a fascinating -effect on people of a nervous organization, and his fantastic -ticklings, usually produced all the results required by his mode of -treatment. - -The fame of the healer spread far and wide. Not only from the most -secluded parts of Ireland, but from civilized England, the lame and -blind, the deaf, dumb, and diseased, made pilgrimages to the Squire of -Affane. His stable, barn, and malt-house were crowded with wretches -imploring his aid. The demands upon his time were so very many and -great, that he set apart three days in the week for the reception of -patients; and on those days, from six in the morning till six in the -evening, he ministered to his wretched clients. He took no fee but -gratitude on the part of those he benefited, and a cheering sense that -he was fulfilling the commands of the founder of his religion. The -Dean of Lismore cited him to appear before the ecclesiastical court, -and render an account of his proceedings. He went, and on being asked -if he had worked any cures, replied to the court that they might come -to his house and see. The judge asked if he had a licence to practise -from the ordinary of the diocese; and he replied that he knew of no -law which prohibited any man from doing what good he could to others. -He was, however, commanded by the court not to lay his hands again on -the sick, until he had obtained the Ordinary's licence to do so. He -obeyed for two days only, and went on again more earnestly than ever. - -Let a charlatan or an enthusiast spread his sails, the breeze of -fashion is always present, and ready to swell them. The Earl of Orrery -took his quondam lieutenant by the hand, and persuaded him to go over -to England to cure the Viscountess Conway of a violent headache, -which, in spite of the ablest physicians of England and France, she -had suffered from for many years. Lord Conway sent him an urgent -invitation to do so. He complied, and made his way to Rugby, in -Warwickshire, where he was unable to give relief to his hostess, but -was hospitably entertained for a month. His inability to benefit Lady -Conway did not injure his reputation, for he did not profess to be -able to cure every one. An adverse influence--such as the sins of a -patient, or his want of faith--was enough to counteract the healing -power. In the jargon of modern mesmerism, which _practically_ was only -a revival of Greatrakes's extravagances, the physician could affect -only those who were susceptible. But though Lady Conway was beyond the -reach of his mysterious agency, the reverse was the case with others. -The gentry and commonalty of Warwickshire crowded by thousands to him; -and he touched, prayed over, and blessed them, and sent them away -rejoicing. From Rugby he went to Worcester, at the request of the Lord -Mayor and Aldermen of that city; and from Worcester he was carried up -to London. Lord Arlington commanded him to appear at Whitehall, and -mumble in his particular fashion for the amusement of Charles II. A -man who could cure gout by a touch would have been an acquisition to -such a court as then presided over English manners. - -In London he immediately became a star. The fashion of the West, and -the wary opulence of the East, laid their offerings at his feet. For a -time he ruled from Soho to Wapping. Mr. Justice Godfrey gave him rooms -for the reception of patients in his mansion in Lincoln's-inn-Fields; -and thither flocked the mob of the indigent and the mob of the wealthy -to pay him homage. Mr. Boyle (the brother of the Earl of Orrery), Sir -William Smith, Dr. Denton, Dr. Fairclough, Dr. Faber, Sir Nathaniel -Hobart, Sir John Godolphin, Dr. Wilkins, Dr. Whichcot, and Dr. -Cudworth, were amongst his most vehement supporters of the sterner -sex. But the majority of his admirers were ladies. The Countess of -Devonshire entertained him in her palace; and Lady Ranelagh frequently -amused the guests at her routs with Mr. Valentine Greatrakes, who, in -the character of _the lion_ of the season, performed with wondrous -results on the prettiest or most hysterical of the ladies present. It -was held as certain by his intimate friends that the curative property -that came from him was a subtle aura, effulgent, and of an exquisitely -sweet smell, that could only be termed the divine breath. "God," says -Dr. Henry Stubbe, "had bestowed upon Mr. Greaterick a peculiar -temperament, or composed his body of some particular ferments, the -effluvia whereof, being introduced sometimes by a light, sometimes by -a violent friction, should restore the temperament of the debilitated -parts, re-invigorate the blood, and dissipate all heterogeneous -ferments out of the bodies of the diseased by the eyes, nose, mouth, -hands, and feet. I place the gift of healing in the temperament or -composure of his body, because I see it is necessary that he touch -them. Besides, the Right Honourable the Lord Conway observed one -morning, as he came into his Lordship's chamber, a smell strangely -pleasant, as if it had been of sundry flowers; and demanding of his -man what sweet water he had brought into the room, he answered, -_None_; whereupon his Lordship smelled upon the hand of Mr. -Greaterick, and found the fragrancy to issue thence; and examining his -bosom, he found the like scent there also." Dean Rust gave similar -testimony; and "Sir Amos Meredith, who had been Mr. Greaterick's -bed-fellow," did the like. - -Amongst the certificates of cures performed, which Greatrakes -published, are two to which the name of Andrew Marvell is affixed, as -a spectator of the stroking. One of them is the following:-- - - "MR NICHOLSON'S CERTIFICATE. - - "I, Anthony Nicholson, of Cambridge, Bookseller, have been - affected sore with pains all over my body, for - three-and-twenty years last past, have had advice and best - directions of all the doctors there; have been at the bath - in Somersetshire, and been at above one hundred pounds - expense to procure ease, or a cure of these pains; and have - found all the means I could be advised or directed to - ineffectual for either, till, by the advice of Dr Benjamin - Whichcot and Dean Rust, I applyed myself to Mr Greatrake's - for help upon Saturday was sevenight, being the latter end - of March, and who then stroked me; upon which I was very - much worse, and enforced to keep my bed for five or six - days; but then being stroked twice since, by the blessing of - God upon Mr Greatrake's endeavours, I am perfectly eas'd of - all pains, and very healthy and strong, insomuch as I intend - (God willing) to return home towards Cambridge to-morrow - morning, though I was so weak as to be necessitated to be - brought up in men's arms, on Saturday last about 11 of the - clock, to Mr Greatrake's. Attested by me this tenth day of - April, 1666. I had also an hard swelling in my left arm, - whereby I was disabled from using it; which being taken out - by the said Mr Greatrake's, I am perfectly freed of all - pain, and the use thereof greatly restored. - - "ANTHONY NICHOLSON. - - "In the presence of Andrew Marvell, Jas. Fairclough, Tho. - Alured, Tho. Pooley, W. Popple." - -There were worse features of life in Charles the Second's London than -the popularity of Valentine Greatrakes; but his triumph was of short -duration. His professions were made the butts of ridicule, to which -his presence of mind and volubility were unable to respond with -effect. It was asserted by his enemies that his system was only a -cloak under which he offended the delicacy of virtuous women, and -roused the passions of the unchaste. His tone of conversation was -represented as compounded of the blasphemy of the religious enthusiast -and the blasphemy of the profligate. His boast that he never received -a fee for his remedial services was met by flat contradiction, and a -statement that he received presents to the amount of L100 at a time -from a single individual. This last accusation was never clearly -disposed of; but it is probable that the reward he sought (if he -looked for any) was restoration, through Court influence, to the -commission of magistrates for his county, and the lost clerkship of -the peace. The tide of slander was anyhow too strong for him, and he -retired to his native country a less honoured though perhaps a not -less honest man than he left it. Of his sincerity at the outset of his -career as a healer there can be little doubt. - -Valentine Greatrakes did unconsciously what many years after him -Mesmer did by design. He in his remarkable career illustrated the -power which a determined man may exercise over the will and nervous -life of another. - -As soon as the singular properties of the loadstone were discovered, -they were presumed to have a strong medicinal effect; and in this -belief physicians for centuries--and indeed almost down to present -times--were in the habit of administering pulverized magnet in salves, -plaisters, pills, and potions. It was not till the year 1660 that it -was for the first time distinctly recorded in the archives of science, -by Dr. Gilbert, of Colchester, that in a state of pulverization the -loadstone no longer possessed any magnetic powers. But it was not till -some generations after this that medical practitioners universally -recognized the fact that powder of magnet, externally or internally -administered, was capable of producing no other results than the -presence of any ordinary ferruginous substance would account for. But -long after this error had been driven from the domains of science, an -unreasonable belief in the power of magnets applied externally to the -body held its ground. In 1779-80, the Royal Society of Medicine in -Paris made numerous experiments with a view to arrive at a just -appreciation of the influence of magnets on the human system, and came -to the conclusion that they were medicinal agents of no ordinary -efficacy. - -Such was the state of medical opinion at the close of the last -century, when Perkins's tractors, which were supposed to act -magnetically, became the fashion. Mr. Perkins was a citizen of -Connecticut, and certainly his celebrated invention was worthy of the -'cutest people on the 'varsal earth. Barnum's swindles were modest -ventures by comparison. The entire world, old and new, went -tractor-mad. Every valetudinarian bought the painted nails, composed -of an alloy of various metals (which none but Perkins could make, and -none but Perkins sell), and tickled with their sharp ends those parts -of his frame which were regarded as centres of disease. - -The phenomena apparently produced by these instruments were -astounding, and misled every observer of them; until Dr. Haygarth of -Bath proved by a process to which objections was impossible, that they -were referable not to metal points, but to the mental condition of -those who used them. "Robert Thomas," says Dr. Haygarth in his -interesting work, "aged forty-three, who had been for some time under -the care of Dr. Lovell, in the Bristol Infirmary, with a rheumatic -affection of the shoulder, which rendered his arm perfectly useless, -was pointed out as a proper object of trial by Mr. J. W. Dyer, -apothecary to the house. Tuesday, April 19th, having everything in -readiness, I passed through the ward, and, in a way that he might -suspect nothing, questioned him respecting his complaint. I then told -him that I had an instrument in my pocket which had been very -serviceable to many in his state; and when I had explained to him how -simple it was, he consented to undergo the operation. In six minutes -no other effect was produced than a warmth upon the skin, and I feared -that this _coup d'essai_ had failed. The next day, however, he told me -that 'he had received so much benefit that it had enabled him to lift -his hand from his knee, which he had in vain several times attempted -on Monday evening, as the whole ward witnessed.' The tractors I used -being made of lead, I thought it advisable to lay them aside, lest, -being metallic points, the proof against the fraud might be less -complete. Thus much, however, was proved, that the patent tractors -possessed no specific power independent of simple metals. Two pieces -of wood, properly shaped and painted, were next made use of; and in -order to add solemnity to the farce, Mr. Barton held in his hand a -stop-watch, whilst Mr. Lax minuted the effects produced. In four -minutes the man raised his hand several inches; and he had lost also -the pain in his shoulder, usually experienced when attempting to lift -anything. He continued to undergo the operation daily, and with -progressive good effect; for on the twenty-fifth he could touch the -mantel-piece. On the twenty-seventh, in the presence of Dr. Lovell and -Mr. J. P. Noble, two common iron nails, disguised with sealing-wax, -were substituted for the pieces of mahogany before used. In three -minutes he felt something moving from his arm to his hand, and soon -after he touched the board of rules which hung a foot above the -fire-place. This patient at length so far recovered that he could -carry coals and use his arm sufficiently to help the nurse; yet, -previous to the use of the spurious tractors, he could no more lift -his hand from his knee than if a hundredweight were upon it, or a nail -driven through it--as he declared in the presence of several -gentlemen, whose names I shall have frequent occasion to mention. The -fame of this case brought applications in abundance; indeed, it must -be confessed that it was more than sufficient to act upon weak minds, -and induce a belief that these pieces of wood and iron were endowed -with some peculiar virtues." - -The result of Dr. Haygarth's experiments was the overthrow of Perkins, -and the enlightenment of the public as to the real worth of the -celebrated metallic tractors. In achieving this the worthy physician -added some interesting facts to the science of psychology. But of -course his influence upon the ignorant and foolish persons he -illuminated was only transient. Ere a few short years or even months -were over, they had embraced another delusion--not less ridiculous, -but more pernicious. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -IMAGINATION AND NERVOUS EXCITEMENT. MESMER. - - -At a very early date the effects of magnetic influences, and the -ordinary phenomena of nervous excitement, were the source of much -confusion and perplexity to medical speculators, who, with an unsound -logic that is perhaps more frequent than any other form of bad -reasoning, accounted for what they could not understand by pointing to -what they were only imperfectly acquainted with. The power of the -loadstone was a mystery; the nervous phenomena produced by a strong -will over a weak one were a mystery:--clearly the mysterious phenomena -were to be attributed to the mysterious power. In its outset animal -magnetism committed no other error than this. Its wilder extravagances -were all subsequent to this assumption, that two sets of phenomena, -which it has never yet been proved are nearly allied, were connected, -the one with the other, in the relation of cause and effect, or as -being the offspring of one immediate and common cause. - -To support this theory, Mesmerism called into its service the old -astrological views regarding planetary influence. But it held also -that the subtle fluid, so transmitted to the animal life of our -planet, was capable of being passed on in greater or less volumes of -quantity and intensity. Nervous energy was only that subtle fluid -which was continually passing and repassing in impalpable currents -between the earth and the celestial bodies; and when, by reason of the -nervous energy within him, any one exercised control over another, he -was deemed only to have infused him with some of his own stock of -spiritual aura. Here was a new statement of the old dream which had -charmed the poets and philosophers of buried centuries; and as it was -a view which did not admit of positive disproof, it was believed by -its excited advocates to be proved. - -One of the first British writers on animal magnetism was William -Maxwell, a Scotch physician, who enunciated his opinions with a -boldness and perspicacity which do him much credit. The first four of -his twelve conclusions are a very good specimen of his work:-- - -"_Conclusio 1._--Anima non solum in corpore proprio visibili, sed -etiam extra corpus est, nec corpore organico circumscribitur. - -"_Conclusio 2._--Anima extra corpus proprium, communiter sic dictum, -operatur. - -"_Conclusio 3._--Ab omni corpore radii corporales fluunt, in quibus -anima sua praesentia, operatur; hisque energiam et potentiam operandi -largitur. Sunt vero radii hi non solum corporales, sed et diversarum -partium. - -"_Conclusio 4._--Radii hi, qui ex animalium corporibus emittuntur, -spiritu vitali gaudent, per quem animae mutationes dispensantur." - -The sixty-fifth of the aphorisms with which Maxwell concludes his book -is an amusing one, as giving the orthodox animal-magnetic view of that -condition of the affections which we term love, and also as -illustrating the connection between astrology and charms. - -"_Aphorism 65._--Imaginatione vero producitur amor, quando imaginatio -exaltata unius imaginationi alterius dominatur, eamque fingit -sigillatque; atque hoc propter miram imaginationis volubilitatem -vicissim fieri potest. Hinc incantationes effectum nanciscuntur, licet -aliqualem forsan in se virtutem possideant, sine imaginatione tamen -haec virtus propter universalitatem distribui nequit." - -Long before animal magnetism was a stock subject of conversation at -dinner-parties, there was a vague knowledge of its pretensions -floating about society; and a curiosity to know how far its principles -were reconcilable with facts, animated men of science and lovers of -the marvellous. Had not this been the state of public feeling, the -sensations created by Sir Kenelm Digby's sympathetic cures, -Greatrake's administrations, Leverett's manual exercises, and -Loutherbourg's manipulations, would not have been so great and -universal. - -But the person who turned the credulity of the public on this point to -the best account was Frederick Anthony Mesmer. This man did not -originate a single idea. He only traded on the old day-dreams and -vagaries of departed ages; and yet he managed to fix his name upon a -science (?), in the origination or development of which he had no part -whatever; and, by daring charlatanry, he made it a means of grasping -enormous wealth. Where this man was born is uncertain. Vienna, -Werseburg in Swabia, and Switzerland, contend for the honour of having -given him to the world. At Vienna he took his M.D. degree, having -given an inaugural dissertation on "The Influence of the Planets upon -the Human Body." His course of self-delusion began with using magnets -as a means of cure, when applied externally; and he had resolutely -advanced on the road of positive knavery, when, after his quarrel with -his old instructor, Maximilian Hel, he threw aside the use of steel -magnets, and produced, by the employment of his fingers and eyes, -greater marvels than had ever followed the application of the -loadstone or Perkins's tractors. As his prosperity and reputation -increased, so did his audacity--which was always laughable, when it -did not disgust by its impiety. - -On one occasion, Dr. Egg Von Ellekon asked him why he ordered his -patients to bathe in river, and not in spring water? "Because," was -the answer, "river water is exposed to the sun's rays." "True," was -the reply, "the water is sometimes warmed by the sun, but not so much -so that you have not sometimes to warm it still more. Why then should -not spring water be preferable?" Not at all posed, Mesmer answered, -with charming candour, "Dear doctor, the cause why all the water which -is exposed to the rays of the sun is superior to all other water is -because it is magnetized. I myself magnetized the sun some twenty -years ago." - -But a better story of him is told by Madame Campan. That lady's -husband was attacked with pulmonary inflammation. Mesmer was sent for, -and found himself called upon to stem a violent malady, not to gull -the frivolous Parisians, who were then raving about the marvels of the -new system. He felt his patient's pulse, made certain inquiries, and -then, turning to Madame Campan, gravely assured her that the only way -to restore her husband to health was to lay in his bed, by his side -one of three things--a young woman of brown complexion, a black hen, -or an old bottle. "Sir," replied Madame Campan, "if the choice be a -matter of indifference, pray try the empty bottle." The bottle was -tried, but Mons. Campan grew worse. Madame Campan left the room, -alarmed and anxious, and, during her absence, Mesmer bled and -blistered his patient. This latter treatment was more efficacious. But -imagine Madame Campan's astonishment, when on her husband's recovery, -Mesmer asked for and obtained from him a written certificate that he -had been cured by Mesmerism! - -It is instructive to reflect that the Paris which made for a short day -Mesmer its idol, was not far distant from the Paris of the Reign of -Terror. In one year the man received 400,000 francs in fees; and -positively the French government, at the instigation of Maurepas, -offered him an annual stipend of 20,000 francs, together with an -additional 10,000 to support an establishment for patients and pupils, -if he would stay in France. One unpleasant condition was attached to -this offer: he was required to allow three nominees of the Crown to -watch his proceedings. So inordinately high did Mesmer rate his -claims, that he stood out for better terms, and like the dog of the -fable, by endeavoring to get too much, lost what he might have -secured. Ere long the Parisians recovered something of common sense. -The enthusiasm of the hour subsided: and the Royal Commission, -composed of some of the best men of science to be found in the entire -world, were enabled to explain to the public how they had been fooled -by a trickster, and betrayed into practices scarcely less offensive to -modesty than to reason. In addition to the public report, another -private one was issued by the commissioners, urging the authorities, -in the name of morality, to put a stop to the mesmeric mania. - -Mesmer died in obscurity on the 5th of March, in the year 1815. - -Animal magnetism, under the name of mesmerism, has been made familiar -of late years to the ears of English people, if not to their -understandings, by the zealous and indiscreet advocacy which its -absurdities have met with in London and our other great cities. It is -true that the disciples have outrun their master--that Mesmer has been -out-mesmerized; but the same criticisms which have been here made on -the system of the arch-charlatan may be applied to the vagaries of his -successors, whether they be dupes or rogues. To electro-biologists, -spirit-rappers, and table-turners the same arguments must be used as -we employ to mesmerists. They must be instructed that phenomena are -not to be referred to magnetic influence, simply because it is -difficult to account for them; that it is especially foolish to set -them down to such a cause, when they are manifestly the product of -another power; and that all the wonders which form the stock of their -conversation, and fill the pages of the _Zoist_, are to be attributed, -not to a lately discovered agency, but to nervous susceptibility, -imagination, and bodily temperament, aroused by certain well-known -stimulants. - -They will doubtless be disinclined to embrace this explanation of -their marvels, and will argue that it is much more likely that a table -is made by ten or twelve gentlemen and ladies to turn rapidly round, -without the application of muscular force, than that these ladies and -gentlemen should delude themselves into an erroneous belief that such -a phenomenon has been produced. To disabuse them of such an opinion, -they must be instructed in the wondrous and strangely delicate -mechanism of the human intellect and affections. And after such -enlightenment they must be hopelessly dull or perverse if they do not -see that the metaphysical explanation of "their cases" is not only the -true one, but that it opens up to view far more astonishing features -in the constitution of man than any that are dreamt of in the vain -philosophy of mesmerism. It is humiliating to think that these remarks -should be an appropriate comment on the silliness of the so-called -educated classes of the nineteenth century. That they are out of -place, none can advance, when one of the most popular pulpit orators -of London has not hesitated to commit to print, in a work of religious -pretensions, the almost blasphemous suggestion that table-turning is a -phenomenon consequent upon the first out-poured drops of "the seventh -vial" having reached the earth. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -MAKE WAY FOR THE LADIES! - - "For in all times, in the opinion of the multitude, witches - and old women and impostors have had a competition with - physicians. And what followeth? Even this, that physicians - say to themselves, as Solomon expresseth it upon a higher - occasion, 'If it befall to me as befalleth to the fools, why - should I labour to be more wise?'"--Lord Bacon's - _Advancement of Learning_. - - -It is time to say something about the ladies as physicians. Once they -were the chief practitioners of medicine; and even to recent times had -a monopoly of that branch of art over which Dr. Locock presides. The -question has lately been agitated whether certain divisions of -remedial industry ought not again to be set aside for them; and the -patronage afforded to the lady who (in spite of the ridicule thrown on -her, and the rejection of her advances by various medical schools to -which she applied for admission as a student), managed to obtain a -course of medical instruction at one of the London schools, and -practised for a brief time in London previous to her departure for a -locality more suited to her operations, would seem to indicate that -public feeling is not averse to the thought of employing--under -certain conditions and for certain purposes--female physicians. - -Of the many doctresses who have flourished in England during the last -200 years, only a few have left any memorial of their actions behind -them. Of _the wise women_ (a class of practitioners, by-the-by, still -to be found in many rural villages and in certain parts of London) in -whom our ancestors had as much confidence as we of the present -generation have in the members of the College of Physicians, we -question if twoscore, including Margaret Kennix and Mrs. Woodhouse, of -the Elizabethan era, could be rescued from oblivion. Some of them -wrote books, and so, by putting their names "in print," have a slight -hold on posthumous reputation. Two of them are immortalized by mention -in the records of the "Philosophical Transactions for 1694." These -ladies were Mrs. Sarah Hastings and Mrs. French. The curious may refer -to the account there given of the ladies' skill; and also, for further -particulars relative to Sarah Hastings, a glance may be given to M. de -la Cross's "Memoirs for the Ingenious," published in the month of -July, 1693. We do not care to transcribe the passages into our own -pages; though, now that it is the fashion to treat all the unpleasant -details of nursing as matters of romance, we presume there is nothing -in the cases mentioned calculated to shock public delicacy. - -A most successful "wise woman" was Joanna Stephens, an ignorant and -vulgar creature, who, just before the middle of the last century, -proclaimed that she had discovered a sovereign remedy for a painful -malady, which, like the smallpox, has become in the hands of modern -surgery so manageable that ere long it will rank as little more than -"a temporary discomfort." Joanna was a courageous woman. She went -straightway to temporal peers, bishops, duchesses, and told them she -was the woman for their money. They believed her, testified to the -marvellous cures which she had effected, and allowed her to make use -of their titles to awe sceptics into respect for her powers. Availing -herself of this permission, she published books containing lists of -her cures, backed up by letters from influential members of the -nobility and gentry. - -In the April number of the _Gentleman's Magazine_ for the year 1738, -one reads--"Mrs. Stephens has proposed to make her medicine publick, -on consideration of L5000 to be raised by contribution and lodged with -Mr. Drummond, banker; he has received since the 11th of this month -about L500 on that account." By the end of the month the banker had in -his hands L720 8_s._ 6_d._ - -This generous offer was not made until the inventor of the nostrums -had enriched herself by enormous fees drawn from the credulity of the -rich of every sect and rank. The subscription to pay her the amount -she demanded for her secret was taken up enthusiastically. Letters -appeared in the Journals and Magazines, arguing that no humane or -patriotic man could do otherwise than contribute to it. The movement -was well whipped up by the press. The Bishop of Oxford gave L10 -10_s._; Bishop of Gloucester, L10 10_s._; The Earl of Pembroke, L50; -Countess of Deloraine, L5 5_s._; Lady Betty Jermaine, L21; Lady Vere -Beauclerc, L10 10_s._; Earl of Godolphin, L100; Duchess of Gordon, L5 -5_s._: Viscount Lonsdale, L52 10_s._; Duke of Rutland, L50; the -Bishop of Salisbury, L25; Sir James Lowther, Bart., L25; Lord Cadogan, -L2 2_s._; Lord Cornwallis, L20; Duchess of Portland, L21; Earl of -Clarendon, L25; Lord Lymington, L5; Duke of Leeds, L21; Lord Galloway, -L30; General Churchill (Spot Ward's friend), L10 10_s._; Countess of -Huntingdon, L10 10_s._; Hon. Frances Woodhouse, L10 10_s._; Sir Thomas -Lowther, Bart., L5 5_s._; Duke of Richmond, L30; Sir George Saville, -Bart., L5 5_s._ - -These were only a few of the noble and distinguished dupes of Joanna -Stephens. Mrs. Crowe, in her profound and philosophic work, -"Spiritualism, and the Age we live in," informs us that "the -solicitude" about the subject of table-turning "displayed by many -persons in high places, is the best possible sign of the times; and it -is one from which she herself hopes that the period is arrived when we -shall receive further help from God." Hadn't Joanna Stephens reason to -think that the period had arrived when she and her remedial system -would receive further help from God? What would not Read (we do not -mean the empiric oculist knighted by Queen Anne, but the cancer quack -of our own time) give to have such a list of aristocratic supporters? -What would not Mrs. Doctor Goss (who in this year, 1861, boasts of the -patronage of "ladies of the highest distinction") give for a similar -roll of adherents? - -The agitation, however, for a public subscription for Joanna Stephens -was not so successful as her patrician supporters anticipated. They -succeeded in collecting L1356 3_s._ But Joanna stood out: her secret -should not go for less than L5000. "No pay, no cure!" was her cry. The -next thing her friends did was to apply to Parliament for the -required sum--and, positively, their request was granted. The nation, -out of its taxes, paid what the individuals of its wealthy classes -refused to subscribe. A commission was appointed by Parliament, that -gravely inquired into the particulars of the cures alleged to be -performed by Joanna Stephens; and, finding the evidence in favour of -the lady unexceptionable, they awarded her the following certificate, -which ought to be preserved to all ages as a valuable example of -senatorial wisdom:-- - - "THE CERTIFICATE REQUIRED BY THE ACT OF - PARLIAMENT. - - March 5, 1739. - - "We, whose names are underwritten, being the major part of - the Justices appointed by an Act of Parliament, entitled, - '_An Act for providing a Reward to Joanna Stephens, upon - proper discovery to be made by her, for the use of the - Publick, of the Medicines prepared by her_-- --' --do - certify, that the said Joanna Stephens did, with all - convenient speed after the passing of the said Act, make a - discovery to our satisfaction, for the use of the publick, - of the said medicines, and of her method of preparing the - same; and that we have examined the said medicines, and of - her method of preparing of the same, and are convinced by - experiment of the _Utility_, _Efficacy_, and _Dissolving - Power_ thereof. - - "JO. CANT, THO. OXFORD, - HARDWICKE, C., STE. POYNTZ, - WILMINGTON, P., STEPHEN HALES, - GODOLPHIN, C. P. S., JO. GARDINER, - DORSET, SIM BURTON, - MONTAGUE, PETER SHAW, - PEMBROKE, D. HARTLEY, - BALTIMORE, W. CHESELDEN, - CORNBURY, C. HAWKINS, - M. GLOUCESTER, SAM. SHARP." - -When such men as Cheselden, Hawkins, and Sharp could sign such a -certificate, we need feel no surprise at the conduct of Dr. Nesbit and -Dr. Pellet (Mead's early friend, who rose to be president of the -College of Physicians). These two gentlemen, who were on the -commission, having some scruples about the words "dissolving power," -gave separate testimonials in favour of the medicines. St. John Long's -cause, it may be remembered, was advocated by Dr. Ramadge, a Fellow of -the College. - -The country paid its money, and obtained Joanna's prescriptions. Here -is a portion of the lady's statement:-- - - "_A full Discovery of the Medicines given by me, Joanna - Stephens, and a particular account of my method of preparing - and giving the same._ - -"My medicines are a Powder, a Decoction, and Pills. - -"The Powder consists of egg-shells and snails--both calcined. - -"The Decoction is made by boiling some herbs (together with a ball -which consists of soap, swine's-cresses burnt to a blackness, and -honey) in water. - -"The Pills consist of snails calcined, wild carrot seeds, burdock -seeds, ashen keys, hips and hawes--all burnt to a blackness--soap and -honey. - -"The powder is thus prepared:--Take hen's egg-shells, well drained -from the whites, dry and clean; crush them small with the hands, and -fill a crucible of the twelfth size (which contains nearly three -pints) with them lightly, place it on the fire till the egg-shells be -calcined to a greyish white, and acquire an acrid, salt taste: this -will take up eight hours, at least. After they are thus calcined, put -them in a dry, clean earthen pan, which must not be above three parts -full, that there may be room for the swelling of the egg-shells in -stacking. Let the pan stand uncovered in a dry room for two months, -and no longer; in this time the egg-shells will become of a milder -taste, and that part which is sufficiently calcined will fall into a -powder of such a fineness, as to pass through a common hairsieve, -which is to be done accordingly. - -"In like manner, take garden snails, with their shells, cleaned from -the dirt; fill a crucible of the same size with them whole, cover it, -and place it on the fire as before, till the snails have done -smoaking, which will be in about an hour--taking care that they do not -continue in the fire after that. They are then to be taken out of the -crucible, and immediately rubbed in a mortar to a fine powder, which -ought to be of a very dark-grey colour. - - "_Note._--If pit-coal be made use of, it will be proper--in - order that the fire may the sooner burn clear on the - top--that large cinders, and not fresh coals, be placed upon - the tiles which cover the crucibles. - -"These powders being thus prepared, take the egg-shell powder of six -crucibles, and the snail-powder of one; mix them together, and rub -them in a mortar, and pass them through a cypress sieve. This mixture -is immediately to be put up into bottles, which must be close stopped, -and kept in a dry place for use. I have generally added a small -quantity of swine's-cresses, burnt to a blackness, and rubbed fine; -but this was only with a view to disguise it. - -"The egg-shells may be prepared at any time of the year, but it is -best to do them in summer. The snails ought only to be prepared in -May, June, July, and August; and I esteem those best which are done in -the first of these months. - -"The decoction is thus prepared:--Take four ounces and a half of the -best Alicant soap, beat it in a mortar with a large spoonful of -swine's-cresses burnt to a blackness, and as much honey as will make -the whole of the consistence of paste. Let this be formed into a ball. -Take this ball, and green camomile, or camomile flowers, sweet fennel, -parsley, and burdock leaves, of each an ounce (when there are not -greens, take the same quantity of roots); slice the ball, and boil -them in two quarts of soft water half an hour, then strain it off, and -sweeten it with honey. - -"The pills are thus prepared:--Take equal quantities by measure of -snails calcined as before, of wild carrot seeds, burdock seeds, ashen -keys, hips and hawes, all burnt to a blackness, or, which is the same -thing, till they have done smoaking; mix them together, rub them in a -mortar, and pass them through a cypress sieve. Then take a large -spoonful of this mixture, and four ounces of the best Alicant soap, -and beat them in a mortar with as much honey as will make the whole of -a proper consistence for pills; sixty of which are to be made out of -every ounce of the composition." - -Five thousand pounds for such stuff as this!--and the time was coming -when the nation grudged an inadequate reward to Jenner, and haggled -about the purchase of Hunter's Museum! - -But a more remarkable case of feminine success in the doctoring line -was that of Mrs. Mapp, who was a contemporary of Mrs. Stephens. Under -the patronage of the Court, "Drop and Pill" Ward (or "Spot" Ward, as -he was also called, from a mole on his cheek) was astonishing London -with his cures, and his gorgeous equipage which he had the royal -permission to drive through St. James Park, when the attention of the -fashionable world was suddenly diverted to the proceeding of "Crazy -Sally of Epsom." She was an enormous, fat, ugly, drunken woman, known -as a haunter of fairs, about which she loved to reel, screaming and -abusive, in a state of roaring intoxication. This attractive lady was -a bone-setter; and so much esteemed was she for skill in her art, that -the town of Epsom offered her L100 if she would reside there for a -year. The following passage we take from the _Gentleman's Magazine_ -for 1736: "Saturday 31. In the _Daily Advertiser_, July 28, Joshua -Ward, Esq., having the queen's leave, recites seven extraordinary -cases of persons which were cured by him, and examined before her -Majesty, June 7, objections to which had been made in the _Grub Street -Journal_, June 24. But the attention of the public has been taken off -from the wonder-working Mr. Ward to a strolling woman now at Epsom, -who calls herself Crazy Sally; and had performed cures in bone-setting -to admiration, and occasioned so great a resort, that the town -offered her 100 guineas to continue there a year." - -"Crazy Sally" awoke one morning and found herself famous. Patients of -rank and wealth flocked in from every quarter. Attracted by her -success, an Epsom swain made an offer of marriage to Sally, which she -like a fool accepted. Her maiden name of Wallin (she was the daughter -of a Wiltshire bone-setter of that name) she exchanged at the altar -for that of Mapp. If her marriage was not in all respects fortunate, -she was not burdened with much of her husband's society. He lived with -her only for a fortnight, during which short space of time he thrashed -her soundly twice or thrice, and then decamped with a hundred guineas -of her earnings. She found consolation for her wounded affections in -the homage of the world. She became a notoriety of the first water, -and every day some interesting fact appeared about her in the prints -and public journals. In one we are told "the cures of the woman -bone-setter of Epsom are too many to be enumerated: her bandages are -extraordinary neat, and her dexterity in reducing dislocations and -setting fractured bones wonderful. She has cured persons who have been -twenty years disabled, and has given incredible relief in the most -difficult cases. The lame come daily to her, and she gets a great deal -of money, persons of quality who attend her operations making her -presents." - -Poets sounded her praises. Vide _Gentleman's Magazine_, August, 1736: - - "ON MRS MAPP, THE FAMOUS BONE-SETTER OF EPSOM. - - "Of late, without the least pretence to skill, - Ward's grown a fam'd physician by a pill; - Yet he can but a doubtful honour claim, - While envious Death oft blasts his rising fame. - Next travell'd Taylor fills us with surprise, - Who pours new light upon the blindest eyes; - Each journal tells his circuit through the land, - Each journal tells the blessings of his hand; - And lest some hireling scribbler of the town - Injure his history, he writes his own. - We read the long accounts with wonder o'er; - Had he wrote less, we had believed him more. - Let these, O Mapp, thou wonder of the age! - With dubious arts endeavor to engage; - While you, irregularly strict to rules, - Teach dull collegiate pedants they are fools; - By merit, the sure path to fame pursue-- - For all who see thy art must own it true." - -Mrs. Mapp continued to reside in Epsom, but she visited London once a -week. Her journeys to and from the metropolis she performed in a -chariot drawn by four horses, with servants wearing splendid liveries. -She used to put up at the Grecian Coffee-House, where Sir Hans Sloane -witnessed her operations, and was so favourably impressed by them, -that he put under her charge his niece, who was suffering from a -spinal affection, or, to use the exact and scientific language of the -newspapers, "whose back had been broke nine years, and stuck out two -inches." The eminent lady went to the playhouse in Lincoln's-Inn-Fields -to see the _Husband's Relief_ acted. Her presence not only produced a -crowded house, but the fact that she sate between Taylor the quack -oculist on one side, and Ward the drysalter on the other, gave -occasion for the production of the following epigram, the point of -which is perhaps almost as remarkable as its polish:-- - - "While Mapp to the actors showed a kind regard, - On one side _Taylor_ sat, on the other _Ward_; - When their mock persons of the drama came, - Both _Ward_ and _Taylor_ thought it hurt their fame; - Wonder'd how Mapp could in good humour be, - '_Zoons!_' crys the manly dame, 'it hurts not me; - Quacks without art may either blind or kill, - But demonstration proves that mine is skill.'" - -On the stage, also, a song was sung in honour of Mrs. Mapp, and in -derision of Taylor and Ward. It ran thus:-- - - "You surgeons of London, who puzzle your pates, - To ride in your coaches, and purchase estates, - Give over for shame, for pride has a fall, - And the doctress of Epsom has out-done you all. - Derry down, &c. - - "What signifies learning, or going to school, - When a woman can do, without reason or rule, - What puts you to nonplus, and baffles your art; - For petticoat practice has now got the start. - Derry down, &c. - - "In physic, as well as in fashions, we find - The newest has always its run with mankind; - Forgot is the bustle 'bout Taylor and Ward, - And Mapp's all the cry, and her fame's on record. - Derry down, &c. - - "Dame Nature has given a doctor's degree-- - She gets all the patients, and pockets the fee; - So if you don't instantly prove her a cheat, - She'll loll in her carriage, whilst you walk the street. - Derry down, &c." - -On one occasion, as this lady was proceeding up the Old Kent Road to -the Borough, in her carriage and four, dressed in a loosely-fitting -robe-de-chambre, and manifesting by her manner that she had partaken -somewhat too freely of Geneva water, she found herself in a very -trying position. Her fat frame, indecorous dress, intoxication, and -dazzling equipage, were in the eyes of the mob such sure signs of -royalty, that she was immediately taken for a Court lady, of German -origin and unpopular repute, whose word was omnipotent at St. James's. - -Soon a crowd gathered round the carriage, and, with the proper amount -of swearing and yelling, were about to break the windows with stones, -when the spirited occupant of the vehicle, acting very much as Nell -Gwyn did on a similar occasion, rose from her seat, and letting down -the glasses, exclaimed, with an imprecation more emphatic than polite, -"-- --! Don't you know me? I am Mrs. Mapp, the bone-setter!" - -This brief address so tickled the humour of the mob, that the lady -proceeded on her way amidst deafening acclamations and laughter. - -The Taylor mentioned as sitting on one side of Mrs. Mapp in the -playhouse was a notable character. A cunning, plausible, shameless -blackguard, he was eminently successful in his vocation of quack. Dr. -King, in his "Anecdotes of his own Times," speaks of him with respect. -"I was at Tunbridge," says the Doctor, "with Chevalier Taylor, the -oculist. He seems to understand the anatomy of the eye perfectly well; -he has a fine hand and good instruments, and performs all his -operations with great dexterity; but he undertakes everything (even -impossible cases), and promises everything. No charlatan ever appeared -with fitter and more excellent talents, or to greater advantage; he -has a good person, is a natural orator, and has a faculty of learning -foreign languages. He has travelled over all Europe, and has always -with him an equipage suitable to a man of the first quality; and has -been introduced to most of the sovereign princes, from whom he has -received many marks of their liberality and esteem." - -Dr. King, in a Latin inscription to the mountebank, says:-- - - "Hic est, hic vir est, - Quem docti, indoctique omnes impense mirantur, - Johannes Taylor; - Coecigenorum, coecorum, coecitantium, - Quot quot sunt ubique, - Spes unica--Solamen--Salus." - -The Chevalier Taylor (as he always styled himself), in his travels -about the country, used to give lectures on "The Eye," in whatever -place he tarried. These addresses were never explanatory of the -anatomy of the organ, but mere absurd rhapsodies on it as an ingenious -and wonderful contrivance. - -Chevalier's oration to the university of Oxford, which is still -extant, began thus:-- - -"The eye, most illustrious sons of the muses, most learned Oxonians, -whose fame I have heard celebrated in all parts of the globe--the eye, -that most amazing, that stupendous, that comprehending, that -incomprehensible, that miraculous organ, the eye, is the Proteus of -the passions, the herald of the mind, the interpreter of the heart, -and the window of the soul. The eye has dominion over all things. The -world was made for the eye, and the eye for the world. - -"My subject is Light, most illustrious sons of -literature--intellectual light. Ah! my philosophical, metaphysical, my -classical, mathematical, mechanical, my theological, my critical -audience, my subject is the eye. You are the eye of England! - -"England has two eyes--Oxford and Cambridge. They are the two eyes of -England, and two intellectual eyes. You are the right eye of England, -the elder sister in science, and the first fountain of learning in all -Europe. What filial joy must exult in my bosom, in my vast circuit, as -copious as that of the sun himself, to shine in my course, upon this -my native soil, and give light even at Oxford! - -"The eye is the husband of the soul! - -"The eye is indefatigable. The eye is an angelic faculty. The eye in -this respect is a female. The eye is never tired of seeing; that is, -of taking in, assimilating, and enjoying all Nature's vigour." - -When the Chevalier was ranting on in this fashion at Cambridge (of -course there terming Oxford the _left_ eye of England), he undertook -to express every passion of the mind by the eye alone. - -"Here you have surprise, gentlemen; here you have delight; here you -have terror!" - -"Ah!" cried an undergraduate, "there's no merit in that, for you tell -us beforehand what the emotion is. Now next time say nothing--and let -me guess what the feeling is you desire to express." - -"Certainly," responded the Doctor, cordially; "nothing can be more -reasonable in the way of a proposition. Now then, sir, what is this?" - -"Oh, veneration, I suppose." - -"Certainly--quite right--and this?" - -"Pity." - -"Of course, sir: you see it's impossible for an observant gentleman -like yourself to misunderstand the language of the eye," answered the -oculist, whose plan was only to assent to his young friend's -decisions. - -In the year 1736, when the Chevalier was at the height of his fame, -he received the following humorous letter:-- - -"DOMINE,--O tu, qui in oculis hominum versaris, et quamcunque tractas -rem, _acu_ tangis, salve! Tu, qui, instar Phoebi, lumen orbi, et -orbes luminibus reddis, iterum salve! - -"Cum per te Gallia, per te nostrae academiae, duo regni lumina, clarius -intuentur, cur non ad urbem Edinburgi, cum toties ubique erras, cursum -tendis? nam quaedam coecitas cives illic invasit. Ipsos magistratus -_Gutta Serena_ occupavit, videntur enim videre, sed nihil vident. -Idcirco tu istam _Scoticam Nebulam_ ex oculis remove, et quodcunque -latet in tenebris, in lucem profer. Illi violenter carcerem, tu oculos -leniter reclude; illi lucem Porteio ademerunt, tu illis lucem -restitue, et quamvis fingant se dupliciter videre, fac ut simpliciter -tantum oculo irretorto conspiciant. Peractoque cursu, ad Angliam redi -artis tuae plenus, Toriosque (ut vulgo vocantur) qui adhuc coecutiant -et hallucinantur, illuminato. Ab ipsis clericis, si qui sint coeci -ductores, nubem discute; immo ipso Sole lunaque, cum laborant eclipsi, -quae, instar tui ipsius, transit per varias regiones obumbrans, istam -molem caliginis amoveto. Sic eris Sol Mundi, sic eris non solum nomine -Sartor, sed re Oculorum omnium resarcitor; sic omuis Charta Publica -tuam Claritudinem celebrabit, et ubicunque frontem tuam ostendis, nemo -non te, O vir spectatissime, admirabitur. Ipse lippus scriptor hujus -epistolae maxime gauderet te Medicum Illustrissimum, cum omnibus tuis -oculatis testibus, Vindsoriae videre.--VALE." - -The Chevalier had a son and a biographer in the person of John Taylor, -who, under the title of "John Taylor, Junior," succeeded to his -father's trumpet, and blew it with good effect. The title-page of his -biography of his father enumerates some half-hundred crowned or royal -heads, to whose eyes the "Chevalier John Taylor, Opthalmiater -Pontifical, Imperial, and Royal," administered. - -But this work was feeble and contemptible compared with the -Chevalier's autobiographic sketch of himself, in his proposal for -publishing which he speaks of his loves and adventures, in the -following modest style:-- - -"I had the happiness to be also personally known to two of the most -amiable ladies this age has produced--namely, Lady Inverness and Lady -Mackintosh; both powerful figures, of great abilities, and of the most -pleasing address--both the sweetest prattlers, the prettiest -reasoners, and the best judges of the charms of high life that I ever -saw. When I first beheld these wonders I gazed on their beauties, and -my attention was busied in admiring the order and delicacy of their -discourse, &c. For were I commanded to seek the world for a lady -adorned with every accomplishment that man thinks desirable in the -sex, I could only be determined by finding their resemblance.... - -"I am perfectly acquainted with the history of Persia, as well before -as since the death of Thamas Kouli Khan; well informed of the -adventures of Prince Heraclius; was personally known to a minister he -sent to Moscow in his first attempt to conquer that country; and am -instructed in the cruel manner of putting out the eyes of conquered -princes, and of cutting away the eyelids of soldiers taken in war, to -make them unfit for service. - -"I have lived in many convents of friars of different orders, been -present at their creation to various degrees, and have assisted at -numberless entertainments upon those occasions. - -"I have been in almost every female nunnery in all Europe (_on account -of my profession_), and could write many volumes on the adventures of -these religious beauties. - -"I have been present at the making of nuns of almost every order, and -assisted at the religious feasts given on those occasions. - -"I have met with a very great variety of singular religious people -called Pilgrims. - -"I have been present at many extraordinary diversions designed for the -amusement of the sovereign, viz. hunting of different sorts of wild -beasts, as in Poland; bull-fighting, as in Spain. - -"I am well acquainted with all the various punishments for different -crimes, as practised in every nation--been present at the putting of -criminals to death by various ways, viz. striking off heads, breaking -on the wheel, &c. - -"I am also well instructed in the different ways of giving the torture -to extract confession--and am no stranger to other singular -punishments, such as impaling, burying alive with head above ground, -&c. - -"And lastly, I have assisted, have seen the manner of embalming dead -bodies of great personages, and am well instructed in the manner -practised in some nations for preserving them entire for ages, with -little alteration of figure from what they were when first deprived of -life.... - -"All must agree that no man ever had a greater variety of matter -worthy to be conveyed to posterity. I shall, therefore, give my best -care to, so to paint my thoughts, and give such a dress of the story -of my life, that tho' I shall talk of the Great, the Least shall not -find cause of offence." - -The occasion of this great man issuing so modest a proposal to the -public is involved in some mystery. It would seem that he determined -to publish his own version of his adventures, in consequence of being -dissatisfied with his son's sketch of them. John Taylor, Junior, was -then resident in Hatton Garden, living as an eye-doctor, and entered -into an arrangement with a publisher, without his father's consent, to -write the Chevalier's biography. Affixed to the indecent pamphlet, -which was the result of this agreement, are the following epistolary -statements:-- - -"MY SON,--If you should unguardedly have suffered your name at the -head of a work which must make us all contemptible, this must be -printed in it as the best apology for yourself and father:-- - - "TO THE PRINTER. - - "Oxford, Jan. 10, 1761. - -"My dear and only son having respectfully represented to me that he -has composed a work, intitled _My Life and Adventures_, and requires -my consent for its publication, notwithstanding I am as yet a stranger -to the composition, and consequently can be no judge of its merits, I -am so well persuaded that my son is in every way incapable of saying -aught of his father but what must redound to his honour and -reputation, and so perfectly convinced of the goodness of his heart, -that it does not seem possible I should err in my judgment, by giving -my consent to a publication of the said work. And as I have long been -employed in writing my own Life and Adventures, which will with all -expedition be published, 'twill hereafter be left with all due -attention to the candid reader, whether the Life of the Father written -by the son, or the Life of the Father written by himself, best -deserves approbation. - - "THE CHEVALIER TAYLOR, - - "Opthalmiater, Pontifical, Imperial, and Royal. - - "* * * The above is a true copy of the letter my Father sent - me. All the answer I can make to the bills he sends about - the town and country is, that I have maintained my mother - these eight years, and do this at the present time; and - that, two years since, I was concerned for him, for which I - have paid near L200. - - "As witness my hand, - "JOHN TAYLOR, _Oculist_." - - "Hatton Garden." - - -It is impossible to say whether these differences were genuine, or -only feigned by the two quacks, in order to keep silly people -gossiping about them. Certainly the accusations brought against the -Chevalier, that he had sponged on his son, and declined to support his -wife, are rather grave ones to introduce into a make-believe quarrel. -But, on the other hand, when the Chevalier's autobiography appeared it -was prefaced with the following dedicatory letter to his son:-- - - "MY DEAR SON,--Can I do ill when I address to you the story - of your father's life? Whose name can be so proper as your - own to be prefixed to a work of this kind? You who was born - to represent me living, when I shall cease to be--born to - pursue that most excellent and important profession to which - I have for so many years labored to be useful--born to - defend my cause and support my fame--may I not _presume_, my - son, that you will defend your father's cause? May I not - _affirm_ that you, my son, will support your father's fame? - After having this said, need I add more than remind - you--that, to a father, nothing can be so dear as a - deserving son--nor state so desirable as that of the man who - holds his successor, and knows him to be worthy. Be - prosperous. Be happy. - - "I am, your affectionate Father, - "THE CHEVALIER JOHN TAYLOR." - - -This unctuous address to "my lion-hearted boy" is equalled in drollery -by many passages of the work itself, which (in the language of the -title-page) "contains all most worthy the attention of a -Traveller--also a dissertation on the Art of Pleasing, with the most -interesting observations on the Force of Prejudice; numberless -adventures, as well amongst nuns and friars as with persons in high -life; with a description of a great variety of the most admirable -relations, which, though told in his well-known peculiar manner, each -one is strictly true, and within the Chevalier's own observations and -knowledge." - -Apart from the bombast of his style, the Chevalier's "well-known -peculiar manner" was remarkable for little besides tautology and a -fantastic arrangement of words. In his orations, when he aimed at -sublimity, he indulged in short sentences each of which commenced with -a genitive case followed by an accusative; after which came the verb -succeeded by the nominative. Thus, at such crises of grandiloquence, -instead of saying, "I will lecture on the wonders of the eye," he -would invert the order to, "Of the eye on the wonders lecture will I." -By doing this, he maintained that he surpassed the finest periods of -Tully! There is a letter in Nichols's "Literary Anecdotes," in which a -lecture given by this mountebank at Northampton is excellently -described. "The doctor," says the writer, "appeared dressed in black, -with a long light flowing ty'd wig; ascended a scaffold behind a large -table raised about two feet from the ground, and covered with an old -piece of tapestry, on which was laid a dark-coloured cafoy -chariot-seat with four black bunches (used upon hearses) tyed to the -corners for tassels, four large candles on each side of the cushion, -and a quart decanter of drinking water, with a half-pint glass, to -moisten his mouth." - -The fellow boasted that he was the author of forty-five works in -different languages. Once he had the audacity to challenge Johnson to -talk Latin with him. The doctor responded with a quotation from -Horace, which the charlatan took to be the doctor's own composition. -"_He said a few words well enough_," Johnson said magnanimously when -he repeated the story to Boswell. "Taylor," said the doctor, "is the -most ignorant man I ever knew, but sprightly; Ward, the dullest." - -John Taylor, Junr., survived his father more than fifteen years, and -to the last had a lucrative business in Hatton Garden. His father had -been oculist to George the Second; but this post, on the death of the -Chevalier, he failed to obtain, it being given to a foreign _protege_ -of the Duke of Bedford's. He made a great noise about the sufferings -of the poor, and proposed to the different parishes of London to -attend the paupers labouring under diseases of the eye at two guineas -a-year for each parish. He was an illiterate, vulgar, and licentious -scoundrel; and yet when he died, on the 17th September, 1787, he was -honoured with a long memoir in the _Gentleman's Magazine_, as one -"whose philanthropy was exerted so fully as to class him with a Hanway -or a Howard." - -If an apology is needed for giving so much space, in a chapter devoted -to the ladies, to the John Taylors, it must be grounded on the fact -that the Chevalier was the son of an honest widow woman who carried on -a respectable business, as an apothecary and doctress, at Norwich. In -this she resembled Mrs. Blood, the wife of the Colonel of that name, -who for years supported herself and son at Romford, by keeping an -apothecary's shop under the name of Weston. Colonel Blood was also -himself a member of the Faculty. For some time, whilst meditating his -_grand coup_, he practised as a doctor in an obscure part of the City, -under the name of Ayliffe. - -Two hundred years since the lady practitioners of medicine in the -provinces not seldom had working for them pupils and assistants of the -opposite sex, and this usage was maintained in secluded districts till -a comparatively recent date. In Houghton's Collection, Nov. 15, 1695, -is the following advertisement,--"If any Apothecary's Widow that keeps -a shop in the country wants a journeyman that has lived 25 years for -himself in London, and has had the conversation of the eminent -physicians of the colledge, I can help to such an one." - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -MESSENGER MONSEY. - - -Amongst the celebrities of the medical profession, who have left no -memorial behind them more durable or better known than their wills in -Doctors' Commons, was Messenger Monsey, the great-grandfather of our -ex-Chancellor, Lord Cranworth. - -We do not know whether his Lordship is aware of his descent from the -eccentric physician. Possibly he is not, for the Monseys, though not -altogether of a plebeian stock, were little calculated to throw eclat -over the genealogy of a patrician house. - -Messenger Monsey, who used with a good deal of unnecessary noise to -declare his contempt of the ancestral honours which he in reality -possessed, loved to tell of the humble origin of his family. The first -Duke of Leeds delighted in boasting of his lucky progenitor, Jack -Osborn, the shop lad, who rescued his master's daughter from a watery -grave, in the Thames, and won her hand away from a host of noble -suitors, who wanted--literally, the young lady's _pin_-money. She was -the only child of a wealthy pinmaker carrying on his business on -London Bridge, and the jolly old fellow, instead of disdaining to -bestow his heiress on a 'prentice, exclaimed, "Jack won her, and he -shall wear her!" Dr. Monsey, in the hey-day of his social fame, told -his friends that the first of his ancestors of any note was a baker, -and a retail dealer in hops. At a critical point of this worthy man's -career, when hops were "down" and feathers were "up," to raise a small -sum of money for immediate use he ripped open his beds, sold the -feathers, and stuffed the tick with unsaleable hops. Soon a change in -the market occurred, and once more operating on the couches used by -himself and children, he sold the hops at a profit, and bought back -the feathers. "That's the way, sir, by which my family hopped from -obscurity!" the doctor would conclude. - -We have reason for thinking that this ancestor was the physician's -great-grandfather. As is usually found to be the case, where a man -thinks lightly of the advantages of birth, Messenger was by no means -of despicable extraction. His grandfather was a man of considerable -property, and married Elizabeth Messenger, co-heir of Thomas -Messenger, lord of Whitwell Manor, in the county of Norfolk, a -gentleman by birth and position; and his father, the Rev. Robert -Monsey, a Norfolk rector, married Mary, the daughter of Roger Clopton, -rector of Downham. Of the antiquity and importance of the Cloptons -amongst the gentle families of England this is no place to speak; but -further particulars relative to the Monsey pedigree may be found by -the curious in Bloomfield's "History of Norfolk." On such a descent a -Celt would persuade himself that he represented kings and rulers. -Monsey, like Sydney Smith after him, preferred to cover the whole -question with jolly, manly ridicule, and put it out of sight. - -Messenger Monsey was born in 1693, and received in early life an -excellent education; for though his father at the Revolution threw his -lot in with the nonjurors, and forfeited his living, the worthy -clergyman had a sufficient paternal estate to enable him to rear his -only child without any painful considerations of cost. After spending -five years at St. Mary's Hall, Cambridge, Messenger studied physic for -some time under Sir Benjamin Wrench, at Norwich. Starting on his own -account, he practised for a while at Bury St. Edmunds, in Suffolk, but -with little success. He worked hard, and yet never managed in that -prosperous and beautiful country town to earn more than three hundred -guineas in the same year. If we examined into the successes of medical -celebrities, we should find in a great majority of cases fortune was -won by the aspirant either annexing himself to, and gliding into the -confidence of, a powerful clique, or else by his being through some -lucky accident thrown in the way of a patron. Monsey's rise was of the -latter sort. He was still at Bury, with nothing before him but the -prospect of working all his days as a country doctor, when Lord -Godolphin, son of Queen Anne's Lord Treasurer, and grandson of the -great Duke of Marlborough, was seized, on the road to Newmarket, with -an attack of apoplexy. Bury was the nearest point where medical -assistance could be obtained. Monsey was summoned, and so fascinated -his patient with his conversational powers that his Lordship invited -him to London, and induced him to relinquish his country practice. - -From that time Monsey's fortune was made. He became to the Whigs very -much what, in the previous generation, Radcliffe had been to the -Tories. Sir Robert Walpole genuinely loved him, seizing every -opportunity to enjoy his society, and never doing anything for him; -and Lord Chesterfield was amongst the most zealous trumpeters of his -medical skill. Lively, sagacious, well-read, and brutally sarcastic, -he had for a while a society reputation for wit scarcely inferior to -Swift's; and he lived amongst men well able to judge of wit. Garrick -and he were for many years intimate friends, until, in a contest of -jokes, each of the two brilliant men lost his temper, and they parted -like Roland and Sir Leoline--never to meet again. Garrick probably -would have kept his temper under any other form of ridicule, but he -never ceased to resent Monsey's reflection on his avarice to the -Bishop of Sodor and Man. - -"Garrick is going to quit the stage," observed the Bishop. - -"That he'll never do," answered Monsey, making use of a Norfolk -proverb, "so long as he knows a guinea is cross on one side and pile -on the other." - -This speech was never forgiven. Lord Bath endeavoured to effect a -reconciliation between the divided friends, but his amiable intention -was of no avail. - -"I thank you," said Monsey; "but why will your Lordship trouble -yourself with the squabbles of a Merry Andrew and quack doctor?" - -When the tragedian was on his death-bed, Monsey composed a satire on -the sick man, renewing the attack on his parsimony. Garrick's illness, -however, terminating fatally, the doctor destroyed his verses, but -some scraps of them still remain to show their spirit and power. A -consultation of physicians was represented as being held over the -actor:-- - - "Seven wise physicians lately met, - To save a wretched sinner; - Come, Tom, said Jack, pray let's be quick, - Or I shall lose my dinner. - . . . . . - "Some roared for rhubarb, jalap some, - And some cried out for Dover; - Lets give him something, each man said-- - Why e'en let's give him--over." - -After much learned squabbling, one of the sages proposed to revive the -sinking energies of the poor man by jingling guineas in his ears. The -suggestion was acted upon, when-- - - "Soon as the fav'rite sound he heard, - One faint effort he try'd; - He op'd his eyes, he stretched his hands, - He made one grasp--and dy'd." - -Though, on the grave closing over his antagonist, Monsey suppressed -these lines, he continued to cherish an animosity to the object of -them. The spirit in which, out of respect to death, he drew a period -to their quarrel, was much like that of the Irish peasant in the song, -who tells his ghostly adviser that he forgives Pat Malone with all his -heart (supposing death should get the better of him)--but should he -recover, he means to pay the rascal off roundly. Sir Walter Scott -somewhere tells a story of a Highland chief, in his last moments -declaring that he from the bottom of his heart forgave his old enemy, -the head of a hostile clan--and concluding this Christian avowal with -a final address to his son--"But may all evil light upon ye, Ronald, -if ye e'er forgie the heathen." - -Through Lord Godolphin's interest, Monsey was appointed physician to -Chelsea College, on the death of Dr. Smart. For some time he continued -to reside in St. James's: but on the death of his patron he moved to -Chelsea, and spent the last years of his life in retirement--and to a -certain extent banishment--from the great world. The hospital offices -were then filled by a set of low-born scoundrels, or discharged -servants, whom the ministers of various Cabinets had had some reason -of their own for providing for. The surgeon was that Mr. Ranby who -positively died of rage because Henry Fielding's brother (Sir John) -would not punish a hackney coachman who had been guilty of the high -treason of--being injured and abused by the plaintiff. With this man -Monsey had a tremendous quarrel; but though in the right, he had to -submit to Ranby's powerful connections. - -This affair did not soften his temper to the other functionaries of -the hospital with whom he had to associate at the hall table. His -encounter with the venal elector who had been nominated to a Chelsea -appointment is well known, though an account of it would hurt the -delicacy of these somewhat prudish pages. Of the doctor's insolence -the following is a good story:-- - -A clergyman, who used to bore him with pompous and pedantic talk, was -arguing on some point with Monsey, when the latter exclaimed:-- - -"Sir, if you have faith in your opinion, will you venture a wager upon -it?" - -"I could--but I won't," was the reply. - -"Then," rejoined Monsey, "you have very little wit, or very little -money." The logic of this retort puts one in mind of the eccentric -actor who, under somewhat similar circumstances, asked indignantly, -"Then, sir, how _dare_ you advance a statement in a public room which -you are not prepared to substantiate with a bet!" - -Monsey was a Unitarian, and not at all backward to avow his creed. As -he was riding in Hyde Park with a Mr. Robinson, that gentleman, after -deploring the corrupt morals of the age, said, with very bad taste, -"But, Doctor, I talk with one who believes there is no God." "And I," -retorted Monsey, "with one who believes there are three." Good Mr. -Robinson was so horrified that he clapped spurs to his horse, galloped -off, and never spoke to the doctor again. - -Monsey's Whiggism introduced him to high society, but not to lucrative -practice. Sir Robert Walpole always extoled the merits of his "Norfolk -Doctor," but never advanced his interests. Instead of covering the -great minister with adulation, Monsey treated him like an ordinary -individual, telling him when his jokes were poor, and not hesitating -to worst him in argument. "How happens it," asked Sir Robert, over his -wine, "that nobody will beat me at billiards, or contradict me, but -Dr. Monsey!" "Other people," put in the doctor, "get places--I get a -dinner and praise." The Duke of Grafton treated him even worse. His -Grace staved off paying the physician his bill for attending him and -his family at Windsor, with promises of a place. When "the little -place" fell vacant, Monsey called on the duke, and reminded him of his -promise. "Ecod--ecod--ecod," was the answer, "but the Chamberlain has -just been here to tell me he has promised it to Jack ----." When the -disappointed applicant told the lord-chamberlain what had transpired, -his Lordship replied, "Don't, for the world, tell his Grace; but -before he knew I had promised it, here is a letter he sent me, -soliciting for _a third person_." - -Amongst the vagaries of this eccentric physician was the way in which -he extracted his own teeth. Round the tooth sentenced to be drawn he -fastened securely a strong piece of catgut, to the opposite end of -which he affixed a bullet. With this bullet and a full measure of -powder a pistol was charged. On the trigger being pulled, the -operation was performed effectually and speedily. The doctor could -only rarely prevail on his friends to permit him to remove their teeth -by this original process. Once a gentleman who had agreed to try the -novelty, and had even allowed the apparatus to be adjusted, at the -last moment exclaimed, "Stop, stop, I've changed my mind!" "But I -haven't, and you're a fool and a coward for your pains," answered the -doctor, pulling the trigger. In another instant the tooth was -extracted, much to the timid patient's delight and astonishment. - -At Chelsea, to the last, the doctor saw on friendly terms all the -distinguished medical men of his day. Cheselden, fonder of having his -horses admired than his professional skill extolled, as Pope and -Freind knew, was his frequent visitor. He had also his loves. To Mrs. -Montague, for many years, he presented a copy of verses on the -anniversary of her birth-day. But after his quarrel with Garrick, he -saw but little of the lady, and was rarely, if ever, a visitor at her -magnificent house in Portman Square. Another of his flames, too, was -Miss Berry, of whom the loss still seems to be recent. In his old age, -avarice--the very same failing he condemned so much in Garrick--developed -itself in Monsey. In comparatively early life his mind was in a -flighty state about money matters. For years he was a victim of that -incredulity which makes the capitalist imagine a great and prosperous -country to be the most insecure of all debtors. He preferred investing -his money in any wild speculation to confiding it to the safe custody -of the funds. Even his ready cash he for long could not bring himself -to trust in the hands of a banker. When he left town for a trip, he -had recourse to the most absurd schemes for the protection of his -money. Before setting out, on one occasion, for a journey to Norfolk, -incredulous with regard to cash-boxes and bureaus, he hid a -considerable quantity of gold and notes in the fireplace of his study, -covering them up artistically with cinders and shavings. A month -afterwards, returning (luckily a few days before he was expected), he -found his old house-maid preparing to entertain a few friends at tea -in her master's room. The hospitable domestic was on the point of -lighting the fire, and had just applied a candle to the doctor's -notes, when he entered the room, seized on a pail of water that -chanced to be standing near, and, throwing its contents over the fuel -and the old woman, extinguished the fire and her presence of mind at -the same time. Some of the notes, as it was, were injured, and the -Bank of England made objections to cashing them. - -To the last Monsey acted by his own rules instead of by those of other -people. He lived to extreme old age, dying in his rooms in Chelsea -College, on December 26th, 1788, in his ninety-fifth year; and his -will was as remarkable as any other feature of his career. To a young -lady mentioned in it, with the most lavish encomiums on her wit, -taste, and elegance, was left an old battered snuff-box--not worth -sixpence; and to another young lady, whom the testator says he -intended to have enriched with a handsome legacy, he leaves the -gratifying assurance that he changed his mind on finding her "a pert, -conceited minx." After inveighing against bishops, deans, and -chapters, he left an annuity to two clergymen who had resigned their -preferment on account of the Athanasian doctrine. He directed that his -body should not be insulted with any funeral ceremony, but should -undergo dissection; after which, the "remainder of my carcase" (to use -his own words) "may be put into a hole, or crammed into a box with -holes, and thrown into the Thames." In obedience to this part of the -will, Mr. Forster, surgeon, of Union Court, Broad Street, dissected -the body, and delivered a lecture on it to the medical students in the -theatre of Guy's Hospital. The bulk of the doctor's fortune, amounting -to about L16,000, was left to his only daughter for life, and after -her demise, by a complicated entail, to her _female_ descendants. This -only child, Charlotte Monsey, married William Alexander, a -linen-draper in Cateaton Street, City, and had a numerous family. One -of her daughters married the Rev. Edmund Rolfe, rector of Cockley -Clay, Norfolk, of which union Robert Monsey Rolfe, Baron Cranworth of -Cranworth, county of Norfolk, is the offspring. - -Before making the above-named and final disposition of his body, the -old man found vent for his ferocious cynicism and vulgar infidelity in -the following epitaph, which is scarcely less characteristic of the -society in which the writer had lived, than it is of the writer -himself:-- - - "MOUNSEY'S EPITAPH, WRITTEN BY HIMSELF." - - "Here lie my old bones; my vexation now ends; - I have lived much too long for myself and my friends. - As to churches and churchyards, which men may call holy, - 'Tis a rank piece of priestcraft, and founded on folly. - What the next world may be never troubled my pate; - And be what it may, I beseech you, O fate, - When the bodies of millions rise up in a riot, - To let the old carcase of Mounsey be quiet." - -Unpleasant old scamp though he in many respects was, Monsey retains -even at this day so firm a hold of the affections of all students who -like ferreting into the social history of the last century, that no -chance letter of his writing is devoid of interest. The following -specimen of his epistolary style, addressed to his fair patient, the -accomplished and celebrated Mrs. Montague (his acquaintance with which -lady has already been alluded to), is transcribed from the original -manuscript in the possession of Dr. Diamond:-- - - "4th of March, a minute past 12. - "DEAR MADAME, - - "Now dead men's ghosts are getting out of their graves, and - there comes the ghost of a doctor in a white sheet to wait - upon you. Your Tokay is got into my head and your love into - my heart, and they both join to club their thanks for the - pleasantest day I have spent these seven years; and to my - comfort I find a man may be in love, and be happy, provided - he does not go to book for it. I could have trusted till - the morning to show my gratitude, but the Tokay wou'd have - evaporated, and then I might have had nothing to talk of but - an ache in my head and pain in my heart. Bacchus and Cupid - should always be together, for the young gentleman is very - apt to be silly when he's alone by himself; but when old - toss-pot is with him, if he pretends to fall a whining, he - hits him a cursed knock on the pate, and says: 'Drink about, - you....' 'No, Bacchus, don't be in a passion. Upon my soul - you have knocked out one of my eyes!' 'Eyes, ye scroundrel? - Why, you have never had one since you were born.... Apollo - would have couched you, but your mother said no; for then, - says she, "he can never be blamed for his shot, any more - than the people that are shot at." She knew 'twould bring - grist to her mill; for what with those who pretended they - were in love and were not so, and those who were really so - and wouldn't own it, I shall find rantum scantum work at - Cyprus, Paphos, and Cythera. Some will come to acquire what - they never had, and others to get rid of what they find very - troublesome, and I shall mind none of 'em.' You see how the - goddess foresaw and predicted my misfortunes. She knew I was - a sincere votary, and that I was a martyr to her serene - influence. Then how could you use me so like an Hyrcanian - tygress, and be such an infidel to misery; that though I - hate you mortally, I wish you may feel but one poor - _half-quarter-of-an-hour_ before you slip your breath--how - shall I rejoice at your horrid agonies? _Nec enim lex - justior ulla Quam necis artifices arte perire sua_--Remember - Me. - - "My ills have disturbed my brain, and the revival of old - ideas has set it a-boyling, that, till I have skim'd off - the froth, I can't pretend to say a word for myself; and by - the time I have cleared off the scum, the little grudge that - is left may be burnt to the bottom of the pot. - - "My mortal injuries have turned my mind, - And I could hate myself for being blind - But why should I thus rave of eyes and looks? - All I have felt is fancy--all from Books. - I stole my charmers from the cuts of Quarles, - And my dear Clarissa from the grand Sir Charles. - But if his mam or Cupid live above, - Who have revenge in store for injured love, - O Venus, send dire ruin on her head, - Strike the Destroyer, lay the Victress dead; - Kill the Triumphress, and avenge my wrong - In height of pomp, while she is warm and young. - Grant I may stand and dart her with my eyes - While in the fiercest pangs of life she lies, - Pursue her sportive soul and shoot it as it flies, - And cry with joy--There Montague lies flat, - Who wronged my passion with her barbarous Chat, - And was as cruel as a Cat to Rat, - As cat to rat--ay, ay, as cat to rat. - And when you got her up into your house, - Clinch yr, fair fist, and give her such a souse: - There, Hussy, take you that for all your Prate, - Your barbarous heart I do a-bo-mi-nate. - I'll take your part, my dearest faithful Doctor! - I've told my son, and see how he has mockt her! - He'll fire her soul and make her rant and rave; - See how she groans to be old Vulcan's slave. - The fatal bow is bent. Shoot, Cupid, shoot, - And there's your Montague all over soot. - Now say no more my little Boy is blind, - For sure this tyrant he has paid in kind. - She fondly thought to captivate a lord. - A lord, sweet queen? 'Tis true, upon my word. - And what's his name? His name? Why-- - And thought her parts and wit the feat had done. - But he had parts and wit as well as she. - Why then, 'tis strange those folks did not agree. - Agree? Why, had she lived one moment longer, - His love was strong, but madam's grew much stronger. - _Hiatus valde deflendus._ - So for her long neglect of Venus' altar - I changed Cu's Bowstring to a silken Halter; - I made the noose, and Cupid drew the knot. - Dear mam! says he, don't let her lie and rot, - She is too pretty. Hold your tongue, you sot! - The pretty blockhead? None of yr. rogue's tricks. - Ask her, she'll own she's turned of thirty-six. - I was but twenty when I got the apple, - And let me tell you, 'twas a cursed grapple. - Had I but staid till I was twenty-five, - I'ad surely lost it, as you're now alive! - Paris had said to Juno and Minerva, - Ladies, I'm yours, and shall be glad to serve yer; - I must have bowed to wisdom and to power. - And Troy had stood it to this very hour, - Homer had never wrote, nor wits had read - Achilles' anger or Patroclus dead. - We gods and goddesses had lived in riot, - And the blind fool had let us all be quiet. - Mortals had never been stunn'd with!!!!!!!-- - Nor Virgil's wooden horse play'd Hocus Pocus. - Hang the two Bards! But Montague is pretty. - Sirrah, you lie; but I'll allow she's witty. - Well! but I'm told she was so at fifteen, - Ay, and the veriest so that e'er was seen. - Why that I own; and I myself---- - - "But, hold! as in all probability I am going to tell a - parcel of cursed lies, I'll travel no further, lay down my - presumptuous pen, and go to bed; for it's half-past two, and - two hours and an half is full long enough to write nonsense - at one time. You see what it is to give a Goth Tokay: you - manure your land with filth, and it produces Tokay; you - enrich a man with Tokay, and he brings forth the froth and - filth of nonsense. You will learn how to bestow it better - another time. I hope what you took yourself had a better, or - at least no bad, effect. I wish you had wrote me a note - after your first sleep. There wou'd have been your sublime - double-distilled, treble-refined wit. I shouldn't have known - it to be yours if it could have been anybody's else. - - "Pray don't show these humble rhimes to R----y. That puppy - will write notes upon 'em or perhaps paint 'em upon - sign-posts, and make 'em into an invitation to draw people - to see the Camel and Dromedary--for I see he can make - anything of anything; but, after all, why should I be - afraid? Perhaps he might make something of nothing. I have - wrote in heroics. Sure the wretch will have a reverence for - heroics, especially for such as he never saw before, and - never may again. Well, upon my life I will go to bed--'tis a - burning shame to sit up so. I lie, for my fire is out, and - so will my candle too if I write a word more. - - "So I will only make my mark. =X= - - "God eternally bless and preserve you from such writers." - - - "March 5th, 12 o'clock. - "DEAR MRS. MONTAGUE, - - "My fever has been so great that I have not had any time to - write to you in such a manner as to try and convince you - that I had recovered my senses, and I could write a sober - line. Pray, how do you do after your wine and its effects on - you, as well as upon me? You are grown a right down rake, - and I never expect you for a patient again as long as we - live, the last relation I should like to stand to you in, - and which nothing could make bearable but serving you, and - that is a _J'ay pays_ for all my misery in serving you ill. - - "I am called out, so adieu." - - "March 6th. - - "How do you stand this flabby weather? I tremble to hear, - but want to hear of all things. If you have done with my - stupid West India Ly., pray send 'em, for they go to-morrow - or next day at latest. 'Tis hardly worth while to trouble - Ld L with so much chaff and so little wheat--then why you! - - "Very true. 'Tis a sad thing to have to do with a fool, who - can't keep his nonsense to himself. You know I am a rose, - but I have terrible prickles. Dear madam, adieu. Pray God I - may hear you are well, or that He will enable me to make you - so, for you must not be sick or die. I'll find fools and - rogues enough to be that for you, that are good for nothing - else, and hardly, very hardly, good enough for that. Adieu, - Adieu! I say Adieu, Adieu. - - "M. M." - -Truly did Dr. Messenger Monsey understand the art of writing a long -letter about nothing. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -AKENSIDE. - - -There were two Akensides--Akenside the poet, and Akenside the man; and -of the _man_ Akenside there were numerous subdivisions. Remarkable as -a poet, he was even yet more noteworthy a private individual in his -extreme inconsistency. No character is more commonplace than the one -to which is ordinarily applied the word contradictory; but Akenside -was a curiosity from the extravagance in which this form of "the -commonplace" exhibited itself in his disposition and manners. - -By turns he was placid, irritable, simple, affected, gracious, -haughty, magnanimous, mean, benevolent, harsh, and sometimes even -brutal. At times he was marked by a childlike docility, and at other -times his vanity and arrogance displayed him almost as a madman. Of -plebeian extraction, he was ashamed of his origin, and yet was -throughout life the champion of popular interests. Of his real -humanity there can be no doubt, and yet in his demeanour to the -unfortunate creatures whom, in his capacity of a hospital-physician, -he had to attend, he was always supercilious, and often cruel. - -Like Byron, he was lame, one of his legs being shorter than the other; -and of this personal disfigurement he was even more sensitive than was -the author of "Childe Harold" of his deformity. When his eye fell on -it he would blush, for it reminded him of the ignoble condition in -which he was born. His father was a butcher at Newcastle-upon-Tyne; -and one of his cleavers, falling from the shop-block, had irremediably -injured the poet's foot, when he was still a little child. - -Akenside was not only the son of a butcher--but, worse still, a -Nonconformist butcher; and from an early period of his life he was -destined to be a sectarian minister. In his nineteenth year he was -sent to Edinburgh to prosecute his theological studies, the expenses -of this educational course being in part defrayed by the Dissenters' -Society. But he speedily discovered that he had made a wrong start, -and persuaded his father to refund the money the Society had advanced, -and to be himself at the cost of educating him as a physician. The -honest tradesman was a liberal and affectionate parent. Mark remained -three years at Edinburgh, a member of the Medical Society, and an -industrious student. On leaving Edinburgh he practised for a short -time as a surgeon at Newcastle; after which he went to Leyden, and -having spent three months in that university took his degree of doctor -of physic, May 16, 1744. At Leyden he became warmly attached to a -fellow-student named Dyson; and wonderful to be related, the two -friends, notwithstanding one was under heavy pecuniary obligations to -the other, and they were very unlike each other in some of their -principal characteristics, played the part of Pylades and Orestes, -even into the Valley of Death. Akenside was poor, ardent, and of a -nervous, poetic temperament. Dyson was rich, sober, and -matter-of-fact, a prudent place-holder. He rose to be clerk of the -House of Commons, and a Lord of the Treasury; but the atmosphere of -political circles and the excitement of public life never caused his -heart to forget its early attachment. Whilst the poet lived Dyson was -his munificent patron, and when death had stepped in between them, his -literary executor. Indeed, he allowed him for years no less a sum than -L300 per annum. - -Akenside was never very successful as a physician, although he -thoroughly understood his profession, and in some important -particulars advanced its science. Dyson introduced him into good -society, and recommended him to all his friends; but the greatest -income Akenside ever made was most probably less than what he obtained -from his friend's generosity. Still, he must have earned something, -for he managed to keep a carriage and pair of horses; and L300 per -annum, although a hundred years ago that sum went nearly twice as far -as it would now, could not have supported the equipage. His want of -patients can easily be accounted for. He was a vain, tempestuous, -crotchety little man, little qualified to override the prejudices -which vulgar and ignorant people cherish against lawyers and -physicians who have capacity and energy enough to distinguish -themselves in any way out of the ordinary track of their professional -duties. - -He was admitted, by mandamus, to a doctor's degree at Cambridge; and -became a fellow of the Royal Society, and a fellow of the Royal -College of Physicians. He tried his luck at Northampton, and found he -was not needed there; he became an inhabitant of Hampstead, but failed -to ingratiate himself with the opulent gentry who in those days -resided in that suburb; and lastly fixed himself in Bloomsbury Square -(aetat. 27), where he resided till his death. After some delay, he -became a physician of St. Thomas's Hospital, and an assistant -physician of Christ's Hospital--read the Gulstonian Lectures before -the College of Physicians, in 1755--and was also Krohnian Lecturer. In -speeches and papers to learned societies, and to various medical -treatises, amongst which may be mentioned his "De Dysentaria -Commentarius," he tried to wheedle himself into practice. But his -efforts were of no avail. Sir John Hawkins, in his absurd Life of Dr. -Johnson, tells a good story of Saxby's rudeness to the author of the -"Pleasures of Imagination." Saxby was a custom-house clerk, and made -himself liked in society by saying the rude things which other people -had the benevolence to feel, but lacked the hardihood to utter. One -evening, at a party, Akenside argued, with much warmth and more -tediousness, that physicians were better and wiser men than the world -ordinarily thought. - -"Doctor," said Saxby, "after all you have said, my opinion of the -profession is this: the ancients endeavoured to make it a science, and -failed; and the moderns to make it a trade, and succeeded." - -He was not liked at St. Thomas's Hospital. The gentle Lettsom, whose -mild poetic nature had surrounded the author of "The Pleasures of -Imagination" with a halo of romantic interest, when he entered himself -a student of that school, was shocked at finding the idol of his -admiration so irritable and unkindly a man. He was, according to -Lettsom's reminiscences, thin and pale, and of a strumous countenance. -His injured leg was lengthened by a false heel. In dress he was -scrupulously neat and delicate, always having on his head a -well-powdered white wig, and by his side a long sword. Any want of -respect to him threw him into a fit of anger. One amongst the students -who accompanied him on a certain occasion round the wards spat on the -floor behind the physician. Akenside turned sharply on his heel, and -demanded who it was that dared to spit in his face. To the poor women -who applied to him for medical advice he exhibited his dislike in the -most offensive and cruel manner. The students who watched him closely, -and knew the severe disappointment his affections had suffered in -early life, whispered to the novice that the poet-physician's -moroseness to his female patients was a consequence of his having felt -the goads of despised love. The fastidiousness of the little fellow at -having to come so closely in contact with the vulgar rabble, induced -him sometimes to make the stronger patients precede him with brooms -and clear a way for him through the crowd of diseased wretches. Bravo, -my butcher's boy! This story of Akenside and his lictors, pushing back -the unsightly mob of lepers, ought to be read side by side with that -of the proud Duke of Somerset, who, when on a journey, used to send -outriders before him to clear the roads, and prevent vulgar eyes from -looking at him. - -On one occasion Akenside ordered an unfortunate male patient of St. -Thomas's to take boluses of bark. The poor fellow complained that he -could not swallow them. Akenside was so incensed at the man's -presuming to have an opinion on the subject, that he ordered him to be -turned out of the hospital, saying, "He shall not die under my care." -A man who would treat his _poor_ patients in this way did not deserve -to have any _rich_ ones. These excesses of folly and brutality, -however, ere long reached the ears of honest Richard Chester, one of -the governors, and that good fellow gave the doctor a good scolding, -roundly telling him, "Know, thou art a servant of this charity." - -Akenside's self-love received a more humorous stab than the poke -administered by Richard Chester's blunt cudgel, from Mr. Baker, one of -the surgeons at St. Thomas's. To appreciate the full force of the -story, the reader must recollect that the jealousy, which still exists -between the two branches of the medical profession, was a century -since so violent that even considerations of interest failed in some -cases to induce eminent surgeons and physicians to act together. One -of Baker's sons was the victim of epilepsy, and frequent fits had -impaired his faculties. Baker was naturally acutely sensitive of his -child's misfortune, and when Akenside had the bad taste to ask to what -study the afflicted lad intended to apply, the father answered, "I -find he is not capable of making a surgeon, so I have sent him to -Edinburgh to make a physician of him." Akenside felt this sarcasm so -much, that he for a long time afterward refused to hold any -intercourse with Baker. - -But Akenside had many excuses for his irritability. He was very -ambitious, and failed to achieve that success which the possession of -great powers warranted him in regarding as his due. It was said of -Garth that no physician understood his art more, or his trade less! -and this, as Mr. Bucke, in his beautiful "Life of Arkenside," remarks, -was equally true of the doctor of St. Thomas's. He had a thirst for -human praise and worldly success, and a temperament that caused him, -notwithstanding all his sarcasms against love, to estimate at their -full worth the joys of married life; yet he lived all his days a poor -man, and died a bachelor. Other griefs also contributed to sour his -temper. His lot was cast in times that could not justly appreciate his -literary excellences. His sincere admiration of classic literature and -art and manners was regarded by the coarse herd of rich and stupid -Londoners as so perfectly ridiculous, that when Smollett had the bad -taste to introduce him into _Peregrine Pickle_, as the physician who -gives a dinner after the manner of the ancients, the applause was -general, and every city tradesman, with scholarship enough to read the -novel, had a laugh at the expense of a man who has some claims to be -regarded as the greatest literary genius of his time. The polished and -refined circles of English life paid homage to his genius, but even in -them he failed to meet with the cordial recognition he deserved. -Johnson, though he placed him above Gray and Mason, did not do him -justice. Boswell didn't see much in him. Horace Walpole differed from -the friend who asked him to admire the "Pleasures of Imagination." -The poets and wits of his own time had a high respect for his critical -opinion, and admitted the excellence of his poetry--but almost -invariably with some qualification. And Akenside was one who thirsted -for the complete assent of the applauding world. He died after a brief -illness in his forty-ninth year, on the 23rd of June, 1770; and we -doubt not, when the Angel of Death touched him, the heart that ceased -to beat was one that had known much sorrow. - -Akenside's poetical career was one of unfulfilled promise. At the age -of twenty-three he had written "The Pleasures of the Imagination." -Pope was so struck with the merits of the poem, that when Dodsley -consulted him about the price set on it by the author (L120), he told -him to make no niggardly offer, for it was the work of no every-day -writer. But he never produced another great work. Impressed with the -imperfections of his achievement, he occupied himself with incessantly -touching and re-touching it up, till he came to the unwise -determination of re-writing it. He did not live to accomplish this -suicidal task; but the portion of it which came to the public was -inferior to the original poem, both in power and art. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -LETTSOM. - - -High amongst literary, and higher yet amongst benevolent, physicians -must be ranked John Coakley Lettsom, formerly president of the -Philosophical Society of London. A West Indian, and the son of a -planter, he was born on one of his father's little islands, Van Dyke, -near Tortola, in the year 1744. Though bred a Quaker, he kept his -heart so free from sectarianism, and his life so entirely void of the -formality and puritanic asceticism of the Friends, that his ordinary -acquaintance marvelled at his continuing to wear the costume of the -brotherhood. At six years of age he was sent to England for education, -being for that purpose confided to the protection of Mr. Fothergill, -of Warrington, a Quaker minister, and younger brother of Dr. John -Fothergill. After receiving a poor preparatory education, he was -apprenticed to a Yorkshire apothecary, named Sutcliffe, who, by -industry and intelligence, had raised himself from the position of a -weaver to that of the first medical practitioner of Settle. In the -last century a West Indian was, to the inhabitants of a provincial -district, a rare curiosity; and Sutcliffe's surgery, on the day that -Lettsom entered it in his fifteenth year, was surrounded by a dense -crowd of gaping rustics, anxious to see a young gentleman accustomed -to walk on his head. This extraordinary demonstration of curiosity was -owing to the merry humour of Sutcliffe's senior apprentice, who had -informed the people that the new pupil, who would soon join him, came -from a country where the feet of the inhabitants were placed in an -exactly opposite direction to those of Englishmen. - -Sutcliffe did not find his new apprentice a very handy one. "Thou -mayest make a physician, but I think not a good apothecary," the old -man was in the habit of saying; and the prediction in due course -turned out a correct one. Having served an apprenticeship of five -years, and walked for two the wards of St. Thomas's Hospital, where -Akenside was a physician, conspicuous for supercilious manner and want -of feeling, Lettsom returned to the West Indies, and settled as a -medical practitioner in Tortola. He practised there only five months, -earning in that time the astonishing sum of L2000; when, ambitious of -achieving a high professional position, he returned to Europe, visited -the medical schools of Paris and Edinburgh, took his degree of M.D. at -Leyden on the 20th of June, 1769, was admitted a licentiate of the -Royal College of Physicians of London in the same year, and in 1770 -was elected a fellow of the Society of Antiquaries. - -From this period till his death, in 1815 (Nov. 20), he was one of the -most prominent figures in the scientific world of London. As a -physician he was a most fortunate man; for without any high reputation -for professional acquirements, and with the exact reverse of a good -preliminary education, he made a larger income than any other -physician of the same time. Dr. John Fothergill never made more than -L5000 in one year; but Lettsom earned L3600 in 1783--L3900 in -1784--L4015 in 1785-and L4500 in 1786. After that period his practice -rapidly increased, so that in some years his receipts were as much as -L12,000. But although he pocketed such large sums, half his labours -were entirely gratuitous. Necessitous clergymen and literary men he -invariably attended with unusual solicitude and attention, but without -ever taking a fee for his services. Indeed, generosity was the ruling -feature of his life. Although he burdened himself with the public -business of his profession, was so incessantly on the move from one -patient to another that he habitually knocked up three pairs of horses -a-day, and had always some literary work or other upon his desk, he -nevertheless found time to do an amount of labour, in establishing -charitable institutions and visiting the indigent sick, that would by -itself have made a reputation for an ordinary person. - -To give the mere list of his separate benevolent services would be to -write a book about them. The General Dispensary, the Finsbury -Dispensary, the Surrey Dispensary, and the Margate Sea-bathing -Infirmary, originated in his exertions; and he was one of the first -projectors of--the Philanthropic Society, St. Georges-in-the-Fields, -for the Prevention of Crimes, and the Reform of the Criminal Poor; the -Society for the Discharge and Relief of Persons Imprisoned for Small -Debts; the Asylum for the Indigent Deaf and Dumb; the Institution for -the Relief and Employment of the Indigent Blind; and the Royal Humane -Society, for the recovery of the apparently drowned or dead. And year -by year his pen sent forth some publication or other to promote the -welfare of the poor, and succour the afflicted. Of course there were -crowds of clever spectators of the world's work, who smiled as the -doctor's carriage passed them in the streets, and said he was a deuced -clever fellow to make ten thousand a-year so easily; and that, after -all, philanthropy was not a bad trade. But Lettsom was no calculating -humanitarian, with a tongue discoursing eloquently on the sufferings -of mankind, and an eye on the sharp look-out for his own interest. -What he was before the full stare of the world, that he was also in -his own secret heart, and those private ways into which hypocrisy -cannot enter. At the outset of his life, when only twenty-three years -old, he liberated his slaves--although they constituted almost his -entire worldly wealth, and he was anxious to achieve distinction in a -profession that offers peculiar difficulties to needy aspirants. And -when his career was drawing to a close, he had to part with his -beloved countryseat because he had impoverished himself by lavish -generosity to the unfortunate. - -There was no sanctimonious affectation in the man. He wore a drab coat -and gaiters, and made the Quaker's use of _Thou_ and _Thee_; but he -held himself altogether apart from the prejudices of his sect. A poet -himself of some respectability, he delighted in every variety of -literature, and was ready to shake any man by the hand--Jew or -Gentile. He liked pictures and works of sculpture, and spent large -sums upon them; into the various scientific movements of the time he -threw himself with all the energy of his nature; and he disbursed a -fortune in surrounding himself at Camberwell with plants from the -tropics. He liked good wine, but never partook of it to excess, -although his enemies were ready to suggest that he was always glad to -avail himself of an excuse for getting intoxicated. And he was such a -devoted admirer of the fair sex, that the jealous swarm of needy men -who envied him his prosperity, had some countenance for their slander -that he was a Quaker debauchee. He married young, and his wife -outlived him; but as a husband he was as faithful as he proved in -every other relation of life. - -Saturday was the day he devoted to entertaining his friends at Grove -Hill, Camberwell; and rare parties there gathered round -him--celebrities from every region of the civilized world, and the -best "good fellows" of London. Boswell was one of his most frequent -guests, and, in an ode to Charles Dilly, celebrated the beauties of -the physician's seat and his humane disposition:-- - - "My cordial Friend, still prompt to lend - Your cash when I have need on't; - We both must bear our load of care-- - At least we talk and read on't." - - "Yet are we gay in ev'ry way, - Not minding where the joke lie; - On Saturday at bowls we play - At Camberwell with Coakley." - - "Methinks you laugh to hear but half - The name of Dr. Lettsom: - From him of good--talk, liquors, food-- - His guests will always get some." - - "And guests has he, in ev'ry degree, - Of decent estimation: - His liberal mind holds all mankind - As an extended Nation. - - "O'er Lettsom's cheer we've met a peer-- - A peer--no less than Lansdowne! - Of whom each dull and envious skull - Absurdly cries--'The man's down!' - - "Down do they say? How then, I pray, - His king and country prize him! - Through the whole world known, his peace alone - Is sure t' immortalize him. - - "Lettsom we view a _Quaker_ true, - 'Tis clear he's so in one sense: - His _spirit_, strong, and ever young, - Refutes pert Priestley's nonsense. - - "In fossils he is deep, we see; - Nor knows Beasts, Fishes, Birds ill; - With plants not few, some from Pelew, - And wondrous Mangel Wurzel! - - "West India bred, warm heart, cool head, - The city's first physician; - By schemes humane--want, sickness, pain, - To aid in his ambition. - - "From terrace high he feasts his eye, - When practice grants a furlough; - And, while it roves o'er Dulwich groves, - Looks down--even upon Thurlow." - -The concluding line is an allusion to the Lord Chancellor's residence -at Dulwich. - -In person, Lettsom was tall and thin--indeed, almost attenuated: his -face was deeply lined, indicating firmness quite as much as -benevolence; and his complexion was of a dark yellow hue. His -eccentricities were numerous. Like the founder of his sect, he would -not allow even respect for royalty to make an alteration in his -costume which his conscience did not approve; and George III., who -entertained a warm regard for him, allowed him to appear at Court in -the ordinary Quaker garb, and to kiss his hand, though he had neither -powder on his head, nor a sword by his side. Lettsom responded to his -sovereign's courtesy by presenting him with some rare and -unpurchasable medals. - -Though his writings show him to have been an enlightened physician for -his time, his system of practice was not of course free from the -violent measures which were universally believed in during the last -century. He used to say of himself, - - "When patients sick to me apply, - I physics, bleeds and sweats 'em; - Then--if they choose to die, - What's that to me--I lets 'em."--(I. Lettsom.) - -But his prescriptions were not invariably of a kind calculated to -depress the system of his patient. On one occasion an old American -merchant, who had been ruined by the rupture between the colonies and -the mother country, requested his attendance and professional advice. -The unfortunate man was seventy-four years of age, and bowed down with -the weight of his calamities. - -"Those trees, doctor," said the sick man, looking out of his bed-room -window over his lawn, "I planted, and have lived to see some of them -too old to bear fruit; they are part of my family: and my children, -still dearer to me, must quit this residence, which was the delight of -my youth, and the hope of my old age." - -The Quaker physician was deeply affected by these pathetic words, and -the impressive tone with which they were uttered. He spoke a few words -of comfort, and quitted the room, leaving on the table as his -prescription--a cheque for a large sum of money. Nor did his goodness -end there. He purchased the house of his patient's creditors, and -presented it to him for life. - -As Lettsom was travelling in the neighbourhood of London, a highwayman -stopped his carriage, and, putting a pistol into the window, demanded -him to surrender his money. The faltering voice and hesitation of the -robber showed that he had only recently taken to his perilous -vocation, and his appearance showed him to be a young man who had -moved in the gentle ranks of life. Lettsom quickly responded that he -was sorry to see such a well-looking young man pursuing a course which -would inevitably bring him to ruin; that he would _give_ him freely -all the money he had about him, and would try to put him in a better -way of life, if he liked to call on him in the course of a few days. -As the doctor said this, he gave his card to the young man, who turned -out to be another victim of the American war. He had only made one -similar attempt on the road before, and had been driven to lawless -action by unexpected pennilessness. Lettsom endeavoured in vain to -procure aid for his _protege_ from the commissioners for relieving the -American sufferers; but eventually the Queen, interested in the young -man's case, presented him with a commission in the army; and in a -brief military career, that was cut short by yellow fever in the West -Indies, he distinguished himself so much that his name appeared twice -in the _Gazette_. - -On one of his benevolent excursions the doctor found his way into the -squalid garret of a poor woman who had seen better days. With the -language and deportment of a lady she begged the physician to give -her a prescription. After inquiring carefully into her case, he wrote -on a slip of paper to the overseers of the parish-- - -"A shilling per diem for Mrs Moreton. Money, not physic, will cure -her. - "LETTSOM." - -Of all Lettsom's numerous works, including his contributions to the -_Gentleman's Magazine_, under the signature of "Mottles," the anagram -of his own name, the one most known to the general reader, is the -"History of some of the Effects of Hard Drinking." It concludes with a -scale of Temperance and Intemperance, in imitation of a thermometer. -To each of the two conditions seventy degrees are allotted. Against -the seventieth (or highest) degree of Temperance is marked "Water," -under which, at distances of ten degrees, follow "Milk-and-Water," -"Small Beer," "Cyder and Perry," "Wine," "Porter," "Strong Beer." The -tenth degree of Intemperance is "Punch"; the twentieth, "Toddy and -Crank"; the thirtieth, "Grog and Brandy and Water"; the fortieth, -"Flip and Shrub"; the fiftieth, "Bitters infused in Spirits, -Usquebaugh, Hysteric Water"; the sixtieth, "Gin, Aniseed, Brandy, Rum, -and Whisky," in the morning; the seventieth, like the sixtieth, only -taken day and night. Then follow, in tabular order, the vices, -diseases, and punishments of the different stages of Intemperance. The -mere enumeration of them ought to keep the most confirmed toper sober -for the rest of his days:-- - -"_Vices._--Idleness, Peevishness, Quarrelling, Fighting, Lying, -Swearing, Obscenity, Swindling, Perjury, Burglary, Murder, Suicide. - -"_Diseases._--Sickness, Tremors of the Hands in the Morning, -Bloatedness, Inflamed Eyes, Red Nose and Face, Sore and Swelled Legs, -Jaundice, Pains in the Limbs, Dropsy, Epilepsy, Melancholy, Madness, -Palsy, Apoplexy, Death. - -"_Punishments._--Debt, Black Eyes, Rags, Hunger, Hospital, Poor-house, -Jail, Whipping, the Hulks, Botany Bay, Gallows!" - -This reads like Hogarth's Gin Lane. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -A FEW MORE QUACKS. - - The term quack is applicable to all who, by pompous - pretences, mean insinuations, and indirect promises, - endeavour to obtain that confidence to which neither - education, merit, nor experience entitles them.--_Samuel - Parr's Definition._ - - -Of London's modern quacks, one of the most daring was James Graham, M. -D., of Edinburgh, who introduced into England the juggleries of -Mesmer, profiting by them in this country scarcely less than his -master did on the Continent. His brother married Catherine Macaulay, -the author of the immortal History of England, which no one now-a-days -reads; the admired of Horace Walpole; the lady whose statue during her -life-time, was erected in the chancel of the church of St. Stephen's, -Walbrook. Graham's sister was married to Dr. Arnold, of Leicester, the -author of a valuable book on Insanity. - -With a little intellect and more knavery, Dr. Graham ran a course very -similar to Mesmer. Emerging from obscurity in or about the year 1780, -he established himself in a spacious mansion in the Royal Terrace, -Adelphi, overlooking the Thames, and midway between the Blackfriars -and Westminster Bridges. The river front of the house was ornamented -with classic pillars; and inscribed over the principal entrance, in -gilt letters on a white compartment, was "Templum AEsculapio Sacrum." -The "Temple of Health," as it was usually spoken of in London, quickly -became a place of fashionable resort. Its spacious rooms were supplied -with furniture made to be stared at--sphynxes, dragons breathing -flame, marble statues, paintings, medico-electric apparatus, rich -curtains and draperies, stained glass windows, stands of armour, -immense pillars and globes of glass, and remarkably arranged plates of -burnished steel. Luxurious couches were arranged in the recesses of -the apartments, whereon languid visitors were invited to rest; whilst -the senses were fascinated with strains of gentle music, and the -perfumes of spices burnt in swinging censers. The most sacred shrine -of the edifice stood in the centre of "The Great Apollo Apartment," -described by the magician in the following terms:--"This room is -upwards of thirty feet long, by twenty wide, and full fifteen feet -high in the ceiling; on entering which, words can convey no adequate -idea of the astonishment and awful sublimity which seizes the mind of -every spectator. The first object which strikes the eye, astonishes, -expands, and ennobles the soul of the beholder, is a magnificent -temple, sacred to health, and dedicated to Apollo. In this tremendous -edifice are combined or singly dispensed the irresistible and -salubrious influences of electricity, or the elementary fire, air, and -magnetism; three of the greatest of those agents of universal -principles, which, pervading all created being and substances that we -are acquainted with, connect, animate, and keep together all -nature;--or, in other words, principles which constitute, as it were, -the various faculties of the material soul of the universe: _the -Eternally Supreme Jehovah Himself_ being the essential source--the -Life of that Life--the Agent of those Agents--the Soul of that -Soul--the All-creating, all-sustaining, all-blessing God!--not of this -world alone--not of the other still greater worlds which we know -compose our solar system! Not the creator, the soul, the preserver of -this world alone--or of any of those which we have seen roll with -uninterrupted harmony for so many thousands of years!--not the God of -the millions of myriads of worlds, of systems, and of various ranks -and orders of beings and intelligences which probably compose the -aggregate of the grand, the vast, the incomprehensible system of the -universe!--but the eternal, infinitely wise, and infinitely powerful, -infinitely good God of the whole--the Great Sun of the Universe!" - -This blasphemy was regarded in Bond Street and Mayfair as inspired -wisdom. It was held to be wicked not to believe in Dr. Graham. The -"Temple" was crowded with the noble and wealthy; and Graham, mingling -the madness of a religious enthusiast with the craft of a charlatan, -preached to his visitors and prayed over them with the zeal of Joanna -Southcote. He composed a form of prayer to be used in the Temple, -called "the Christian's Universal Prayer," a long rigmarole of -spasmodic nonsense, to the printed edition of which the author affixed -the following note: "The first idea of writing this prayer was -suggested by hearing, one evening, the celebrated Mr Fischer play on -the hautboy, with inimitable sweetness, _his long-winded_ variations -on some old tunes. I was desirous to know what effect that would have -when extended to literary composition. I made the experiment as soon -as I got home, on the Lord's Prayer, and wrote the following in bed, -before morning:" - -About the "Temple of Health" there are a few other interesting -particulars extant. The woman who officiated in the "Sanctum -Sanctorum" was the fair and frail Emma--in due course to be the wife -of Sir William Hamilton, and the goddess of Nelson. The charges for -consulting the oracle, or a mere admission in the Temple, were thus -arranged. "The nobility, gentry, and others, who apply through the -day, viz., from ten to six, must pay a guinea the first consultation, -and half a guinea every time after. No person whomsoever, even -personages of the first rank, need expect to be attended at their own -houses, unless confined to bed by sickness, or to their room through -extreme weakness; and from those whom he attends at their houses two -guineas each visit is expected. Dr Graham, for reasons of the highest -importance to the public as well as to himself, has a chymical -laboratory and a great medicinal cabinet in his own house; and in the -above fixed fees either at home or abroad, every expense attending his -advice, medicines, applications, and operations, and _influences_, are -included--a few tedious, complex, and expensive operations in the -Great Apollo apartment only excepted." - -But the humour of the man culminated when he bethought himself of -displaying the crutches and spectacles of restored patients, as -trophies of his victories over disease. "Over the doors of the -principal rooms, under the vaulted compartments of the ceiling, and -in each side of the centre arches of the hall, are placed -walking-sticks, ear-trumpets, visual glasses, crutches, &c., left, and -here placed as most honourable trophies, by deaf, weak, paralytic, and -emaciated persons, cripples, &c., who, being cured, have happily no -longer need of such assistances." - -Amongst the furniture of the "Temple of Health" was a celestial bed, -provided with costly draperies, and standing on glass legs. Married -couples, who slept on this couch, were sure of being blessed with a -beautiful progeny. For its use L100 per night was demanded, and -numerous persons of rank were foolish enough to comply with the terms. -Besides his celestial bed and magnetic tomfooleries, Graham vended an -"Elixir of Life," and subsequently recommended and superintended -earth-bathing. Any one who took the elixir might live as long as he -wished. For a constant supply of so valuable a medicine, L1000, paid -in advance, was the demand. More than one nobleman paid that sum. The -Duchess of Devonshire patronized Graham, as she did every other quack -who came in her way; and her folly was countenanced by Lady Spencer, -Lady Clermont, the Comtesse de Polignac, and the Comtesse de Chalon. - -Of all Dr. Graham's numerous writings one of the most ridiculous is "A -clear, full, and faithful Portraiture, or Description, and ardent -Recommendation of a certain most beautiful and spotless Virgin -Princess, of Imperial descent! To a certain youthful Heir-Apparent, in -the possession of whom alone his Royal Highness can be truly, -permanently, and supremely happy. Most humbly dedicated to his Royal -Highness, George, Prince of Wales, and earnestly recommended to the -attention of the Members of both Houses of Parliament." When George -the Third was attacked for the first time with mental aberration, -Graham hastened down to Windsor, and obtaining an interview there with -the Prince Regent, with thrilling earnestness of manner assured his -Royal Highness that he would suffer in the same way as his father -unless he married a particular princess that he (Dr. Graham) was ready -to introduce to him. On the Prince inquiring the name of the lady, -Graham answered, "Evangelical Wisdom." Possibly the royal patient -would have profited, had he obeyed the zealot's exhortation. The work, -of which we have just given the title, is a frantic rhapsody on the -beauties and excellence of the Virgin Princess Wisdom, arranged in -chapters and verses, and begins thus:-- - -"CHAP. 1." - -"Hear! all ye people of the earth, and understand; give ear -attentively, O ye kings and princes, and be admonished; yea, learn -attentively, ye who are the rulers and the judges of the people." - -"2. Let the inhabitants of the earth come before me with all the -innocency and docility of little children; and the kings and -governors, with all purity and simplicity of heart. - -"3. For the Holy Spirit of Wisdom! or celestial discipline! flees from -duplicity and deceit, and from haughtiness and hardness of heart; it -removes far from the thoughts that are without understanding; and will -not abide when unrighteousness cometh in." - -The man who was fool enough to write such stuff as this had, however, -some common sense. He detected the real cause of the maladies of half -those who consulted him, and he did his utmost to remove it. Like the -French quack Villars, he preached up "abstinence" and "cleanliness." -Of the printed "general instructions" to his patients, No. 2 runs -thus:--"It will be unreasonable for Dr Graham's patients to expect a -complete and lasting cure, or even great alleviation of their peculiar -maladies, unless they keep their body and limbs most perfectly clean -with frequent washings, breathe fresh open air day and night, be -simple in the quality and moderate in the quantity of their food and -drink, and totally give up using deadly poisons and weakeners of both -body and soul, and the canker-worms of estates, called foreign tea and -coffee, red port wine, spirituous liquors, tobacco and snuff, gaming -and late hours, and all sinful and unnatural and excessive indulgence -of the animal appetites, and of the diabolical and degrading mental -passions. On practising the above rules, and a widely-open window day -and night, and on washing with cold water, and going to bed every -night by eight or nine, and rising by four or five, depends the very -perfection of bodily and mental health, strength, and happiness." - -Many to whom this advice was given thought that ill-health, which made -them unable to enjoy anything was no worse an evil than health brought -on terms that left them nothing to enjoy. During his career Graham -moved his "Temple of Health" from the Adelphi to Pall-Mall. But he did -not prosper in the long-run. His religious extravagances for a while -brought him adherents, but when they took the form of attacking the -Established Church, they brought on him an army of adversaries. He -came also into humiliating collision with the Edinburgh authorities. - -Perhaps the curative means employed by Graham were as justifiable and -beneficial as the remedies of the celebrated doctors of Whitworth in -Yorkshire, the brothers Taylor. These gentlemen were farriers, by -profession, but condescended to prescribe for their own race as well, -always, however, regarding the vocation of brute-doctor as superior in -dignity to that of a physician. Their system of practice was a -vigorous one. They made no gradual and insidious advances on disease, -but opened against it a bombardment of shot and shell from all -directions. They bled their patients by the gallon, and drugged them -by the stone. Their druggists, Ewbank and Wallis of York, used to -supply them with a ton of Glauber's salts at a time. In their -dispensary scales and weights were regarded as the bugbears of ignoble -minds. Every Sunday morning they bled _gratis_ any one who liked to -demand a prick from their lancets. Often a hundred poor people were -seated on the surgery benches at the same time, waiting for -venesection. When each of the party had found a seat the two brothers -passed rapidly along the lines of bared arms, the one doctor deftly -applying the ligature above the elbow, and the other immediately -opening the vein, the crimson stream from which was directed to a -wooden trough that ran round the apartment in which the operations -were performed. The same magnificence of proportion characterized -their administration of kitchen physic. If they ordered a patient -broth, they directed his nurse to buy a large leg of mutton, and boil -it in a copper of water down to a strong decoction, of which a quart -should be administered at stated intervals. - -When the little Abbe de Voisenon was ordered by his physician to drink -a quart of ptisan per hour he was horrified. On his next visit the -doctor asked, - -"What effect has the ptisan produced?" - -"Not any," answered the little Abbe. - -"Have you taken it all?" - -"I could not take more than half of it." - -The physician was annoyed, even angry that his directions had not been -carried out, and frankly said so. - -"_Ah, my friend_," pleaded the Abbe, "_how could you desire me to -swallow a quart an hour?--I hold but a pint!_" - -This reminds us of a story we have heard told of an irascible -physician who died, after attaining a venerable age, at the close of -the last century. The story is one of those which, told once, are told -many times, and affixed to new personages, according to the whim or -ignorance of the narrator. - -"Your husband is very ill--very ill--high fever," observed the Doctor -to the poor labourer's wife; "and he's old, worn, emaciated: his hand -is as dry as a Suffolk cheese. You must keep giving him water--as much -as he'll drink; and, as I am coming back to-night from Woodbridge, -I'll see him again. There--don't come snivelling about me!--my heart -is a deuced deal too hard to stand that sort of thing. But, since you -want something to cry about, just listen--your husband _isn't going to -die yet_! There, now you're disappointed. Well, you brought it on -yourself. Mind lots of water--as much as he'll drink" - -The doctor was ashamed of the feminine tenderness of his heart, and -tried to hide it under an affectation of cynicism, and a manner at -times verging on brutality. Heaven bless all his descendants, -scattered over the whole world, but all of them brave and virtuous! A -volume might be written on his good qualities; his only bad one being -extreme irascibility. His furies were many, and sprung from divers -visitations; but nothing was so sure to lash him into a tempest as to -be pestered with idle questions. - -"Water, sir?" whined Molly Meagrim. "To be sure, your honour--water he -shall have, poor dear soul! But, your honour, how much water ought I -to give him?" - -"Zounds, woman! haven't I told you to give him as much as he'll -take?--and you ask me how much! _How much?_--give him a couple of -pails of water, if he'll take 'em. Now, do you hear me, you old fool? -Give him a couple of pails." - -"The Lord bless your honour--yes," whined Molly. - -To get beyond the reach of her miserable voice the Doctor ran to his -horse, and rode off to Woodbridge. At night as he returned, he stopped -at the cottage to inquire after the sick man. - -"He's bin took away, yer honour," said the woman, as the physician -entered. "The water didn't fare to do him noan good--noan in the -lessest, sir. Only then we couldn't get down the right quantity, -though we did our best. We got down better nor a pail and a half, -when he slipped out o' our hands. Ah, yer honour! if we could but ha' -got him to swaller the rest, he might still be alive! But we did our -best, Doctor!" - -Clumsy empirics, however, as the Taylors were, they attended people of -the first importance. The elder Taylor was called to London to attend -Thurlow, Bishop of Durham, the brother of Lord Chancellor Thurlow. The -representative men of the Faculty received him at the bishop's -residence, but he would not commence the consultation till the arrival -of John Hunter. "I won't say a word till Jack Hunter comes," roared -the Whitworth doctor; "he's the only man of you who knows anything." -When Hunter arrived, Taylor proceeded to his examination of the -bishop's state, and, in the course of it, used some ointment which he -took from a box. - -"What's it made of?" Hunter asked. - -"That's not a fair question," said Taylor, turning to the Lord -Chancellor, who happened to be present. "No, no, Jack. I'll send you -as much as you please, but I won't tell you what it's made of." - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - -ST. JOHN LONG. - - -In the entire history of charlatanism, however, it would be difficult -to point to a career more extraordinary than the brilliant though -brief one of St. John Long, in our own cultivated London, at a time -scarcely more than a generation distant from the present. Though a -pretender, and consummate quack, he was distinguished from the vulgar -herd of cheats by the possession of enviable personal endowments, a -good address, and a considerable quantity of intellect. The son of an -Irish basket-maker, he was born in or near Doneraile, and in his -boyhood assisted in his father's humble business. His artistic -talents, which he cultivated for some time without the aid of a -drawing-master, enabled him, while still quite a lad, to discontinue -working as a rush-weaver. For a little while he stayed at Dublin, and -had some intercourse with Daniel Richardson the painter; after which -he moved to Limerick county, and started on his own account as a -portrait-painter, and an instructor in the use of the brush. That his -education was not superior to what might be expected in a clever -youth of such lowly extraction, the following advertisement, copied -from a Limerick paper of February 10, 1821, attests:-- - -"Mr John Saint John Long, Historical and Portrait Painter, the only -pupil of Daniel Richardson, Esq., late of Dublin, proposes, during his -stay in Limerick, to take portraits from Ittalian Head to whole -length; and parson desirous of getting theirs done, in historical, -hunting, shooting, fishing, or any other character; or their family, -grouped in one or two paintings from life-size to miniature, so as to -make an historical subject, choseing one from history." - -"The costume of the period from whence it would be taken will be -particularly attended to, and the character of each proserved." - -"He would take views in the country, terms per agreement. Specimens to -be seen at his Residence, No. 116, Georges Street, opposite the -Club-house, and at Mr James Dodds, Paper-staining Warehouse, Georges -Street. - -"Mr Long is advised by his several friends to give instructions in the -Art of Painting in Oils, Opeak, Chalk, and Water-colours, &c., to a -limited number of Pupils of Respectability two days in each week at -stated hours." - -"Gentlemen are not to attend at the same hour the Ladies attend at. He -will supply them in water-colours, &c." - -How the young artist acquired the name of St. John is a mystery. When -he blazed into notoriety, his admirers asserted that it came to him in -company with noble blood that ran in his veins; but more unkind -observers declared that it was assumed, as being likely to tickle the -ears of his credulous adherents. His success as a provincial -art-professor was considerable. The gentry of Limerick liked his manly -bearing and lively conversation, and invited him to their houses to -take likenesses of their wives, flirt with their daughters, and -accompany their sons on hunting and shooting excursions. Emboldened by -good luck in his own country, and possibly finding the patronage of -the impoverished aristocracy of an Irish province did not yield him a -sufficient income, he determined to try his fortune in England. Acting -on this resolve, he hastened to London, and with ingratiating manners -and that persuasive tongue which nine Irishmen out of ten possess, he -managed to get introductions to a few respectable drawing-rooms. He -even obtained some employment from Sir Thomas Lawrence, as -colour-grinder and useful assistant in the studio; and was elected a -member of the Royal Society of Literature, and also of the Royal -Asiatic Society. But like many an Irish adventurer, before and after -him, he found it hard work to live on his impudence, pleasant manners, -and slender professional acquirements. He was glad to colour -anatomical drawings for the professors and pupils of one of the minor -surgical schools of London; and in doing so picked up a few pounds and -a very slight knowledge of the structure of the human frame. The -information so obtained stimulated him to further researches, and, ere -a few more months of starvation had passed over, he deemed himself -qualified to cure all the bodily ailments to which the children of -Adam are subject. - -He invented a lotion or liniment endowed with the remarkable faculty -of distinguishing between sound and unsound tissues. To a healthy part -it was as innocuous as water; but when applied to a surface under -which any seeds of disease were lurking, it became a violent irritant, -creating a sore over the seat of mischief, and stimulating nature to -throw off the morbid virus. He also instructed his patients to inhale -the vapour which rose from a certain mixture compounded by him in -large quantities, and placed in the interior of a large mahogany case, -which very much resembled an upright piano. In the sides of this piece -of furniture were apertures, into which pipe-stalks were screwed for -the benefit of afflicted mortals, who, sitting on easy lounges, smoked -away like a party of Turkish elders. - -With these two agents St. John Long engaged to combat every form of -disease--gout, palsy, obstructions of the liver, cutaneous affections; -but the malady which he professed to have the most complete command -over was consumption. His success in surrounding himself with patients -was equal to his audacity. He took a large house in Harley Street, and -fitted it up for the reception of people anxious to consult him; and -for some seasons every morning and afternoon (from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m.) -the public way was blocked up with carriages pressing to his door. The -old and the young alike flocked to him; but nine of his patients out -of every ten were ladies. For awhile the foolish of every rank in -London seemed to have but one form in which to display their folly. -Needy matrons from obscure suburban villages came with their guineas -to consult the new oracle; and ladies of the highest rank, fashion, -and wealth, hastened to place themselves and their daughters at the -mercy of a pretender's ignorance. - -Unparalleled were the scenes which the reception-rooms of that -notorious house in Harley Street witnessed. In one room were two -enormous inhalers, with flexible tubes running outwards in all -directions, and surrounded by dozens of excited women--ladies of -advanced years, and young girls giddy with the excitement of their -first London season--puffing from their lips the medicated vapour, or -waiting till a mouth-piece should be at liberty for their pink lips. -In another room the great magician received his patients. Some he -ordered to persevere in inhalation, others he divested of their -raiment, and rubbed his miraculous liniment into their backs, between -their shoulders or over their bosoms. Strange to say, these lavations -and frictions--which invariably took place in the presence of third -persons, nurses or invalids--had very different results. The fluid, -which, as far as the eye could discern, was taken out of the same -vessel, and was the same for all, would instantaneously produce on one -lady a burning excoriation, which had in due course to be dressed with -cabbage-leaves; but on another would be so powerless that she could -wash in it, or drink it copiously, like ordinary pump-water, with -impunity. "Yes," said the wizard, "that was his system, and such were -its effects. If a girl had tubercles in her lungs, the lotion applied -to the outward surface of her chest would produce a sore, and extract -the virus from the organs of respiration. If a gentleman had a gouty -foot, and washed it in this new water of Jordan, at the cost of a -little temporary irritation the vicious particles would leave the -affected part. But on any sound person who bathed in it the fluid -would have no power whatever." - -The news of the wonderful remedy flew to every part of the kingdom; -and from every quarter sick persons, wearied of a vain search after an -alleviation of their sufferings, flocked to London with hope renewed -once more. St. John Long had so many applicants for attention that he -was literally unable to give heed to all of them; and he availed -himself of this excess of business to select for treatment those cases -only where there seemed every chance of a satisfactory result. In this -he was perfectly candid, for time after time he declared that he would -take no one under his care who seemed to have already gone beyond -hope. On one occasion he was called into the country to see a -gentleman who was in the last stage of consumption; and after a brief -examination of the poor fellow's condition, he said frankly-- - -"Sir, you are so ill that I cannot take you under my charge at -present. You want stamina. Take hearty meals of beefsteaks and strong -beer; and if you are better in ten days, I'll do my best for you and -cure you." - -It was a safe offer to make, for the sick man lived little more than -forty-eight hours longer. - -But, notwithstanding the calls of his enormous practice, St. John Long -found time to enjoy himself. He went a great deal into fashionable -society, and was petted by the great and high-born, not only because -he was a notoriety, but because of his easy manners, imposing -carriage, musical though hesitating voice, and agreeable disposition. -He was tall and slight, but strongly built; and his countenance, thin -and firmly set, although frank in expression, caused beholders to -think highly of his intellectual refinement, as well as of his -decision and energy. Possibly his personal advantages had no slight -influence with his feminine applauders. But he possessed other -qualities yet more fitted to secure their esteem--an Irish impetuosity -of temperament and a sincere sympathy with the unfortunate. He was an -excellent horseman, hunting regularly, and riding superb horses. On -one occasion, as he was cantering round the Park, he saw a man strike -a woman, and without an instant's consideration he pulled up, leaped -to the ground, seized the fellow bodily, and with one enormous effort -flung him slap over the Park rails. - -But horse-exercise was the only masculine pastime he was very fond of. -He was very temperate in his habits; and although Irish gentlemen -_used_ to get tipsy, he never did. Painting, music, and the society of -a few really superior women, were the principal sources of enjoyment -to which this brilliant charlatan had recourse in his leisure hours. -Many were the ladies of rank and girls of gentle houses who would have -gladly linked their fortunes to him and his ten thousand a year.[20] -But though numerous matrimonial overtures were made to him, he -persevered in his bachelor style of life; and although he was received -with peculiar intimacy into the privacy of female society, scandal -never even charged him with a want of honour or delicacy towards -women, apart from his quackery. Indeed, he broke off his professional -connection with one notorious lady of rank, rather than gratify her -eccentric wish to have her likeness taken by him in that remarkable -costume--or no costume at all--in which she was wont to receive her -visitors. - - [20] A writer in the _Gentleman's Magazine_ for 1843 observes:--"In - England, after Sir Astley, whose superiority of mind or dexterity of - hand stood uncontested, another practitioner in that category of the - Faculty of which it has been said, 'Periculis nostris, et experimenta - per mortes agunt medici,' the once famous St John Long was, I believe, - the most largely requited. I had some previous knowledge of him, and - in 1830 he showed me his pass-book with his bankers, Sir Claude Scott - and Co., displaying a series of credits from July, 1829, to July, - 1830, or a single year's operations, to the extent of L13,400, But the - delusion soon vanished. One act of liberality on his part at that - period, however, I think it fair to record. To a gentleman who had - rendered him some literary aid, which his defective education made - indispensable, he presented double, not only what he was assured would - be an ample remuneration, but what exceeded fourfold the sum his - friend would have been satisfied with, or had expected." - -In the exercise of his art he treated women unscrupulously. Amidst the -crowd of ladies who thronged his reception-rooms he moved, smiling, -courteous, and watchful, listening to their mutual confidences about -their maladies, the constitutions of their relations, and their family -interests. Every stray sentence the wily man caught up and retained in -his memory, for future use. To induce those to become his patients who -had nothing the matter with them, and consequently would go to swell -the list of his successful cases, he used the most atrocious -artifices. - -"Ah, Lady Emily, I saw your dear sister," he would say to a patient, -"yesterday--driving in the Park--lovely creature she is! Ah, poor -thing!" - -"Poor thing, Mr. Long!--why, Catherine is the picture of health!" - -"Ah," the adroit fellow would answer, sadly, "you think so--so does -she--and so does every one besides myself who sees her; -but--but--unless prompt remedial measures are taken that dear girl, -ere two short years have flown, will be in her grave." This mournful -prophecy would be speedily conveyed to Catherine's ears; and, under -the influence of that nervous dread of death which almost invariably -torments the youthful and healthy, she would implore the great -physician to save her from her doom. It was not difficult to quiet her -anxious heart. Attendance at 41, Harley Street, for six weeks, during -which time a sore was created on her breast by the corrosive liniment, -and cured by the application of cabbage-leaves and nature's kindly -processes, enabled her to go out once more into the world, sounding -her saviour's praises, and convinced that she might all her life long -expose herself to the most trying changes of atmosphere, without -incurring any risk of chest-affection. - -But Mr. Long had not calculated that, although nine hundred and -ninety-nine constitutions out of every thousand would not be -materially injured by his treatment, he would at rare intervals meet -with a patient of delicate organization, on whom the application of -his blistering fluid would be followed by the most serious -consequences. In the summer of the year 1830, two young ladies, of a -good Irish family, named Cashin, came to London, and were inveigled -into the wizard's net. They were sisters; and the younger of them, -being in delicate health, called on Mr. Long, accompanied by her -elder sister. The ordinary course of inhalation and rubbing was -prescribed for the invalid; and ere long, frightened by the quack's -prediction that, unless she was subjected to immediate treatment, she -would fall into a rapid consumption, the other young lady submitted to -have the corrosive lotion rubbed over her back and shoulders. The -operation was performed on the 3rd of August. Forthwith a violent -inflammation was established: the wound, instead of healing, became -daily and hourly of a darker and more unhealthy aspect; unable to bear -the cabbage-leaves on the raw and suppurating surface, the sufferer -induced her nurse to apply a comforting poultice to the part, but no -relief was obtained from it. St. John Long was sent for, and the 14th -(just eleven days after the exhibition of the corrosive liniment), he -found his victim in a condition of extreme exhaustion and pain, and -suffering from continued sickness. Taking these symptoms as a mere -matter of course, he ordered her a tumbler of mulled wine, and took -his departure. On the following day (Sunday, 15th) he called again, -and offered to dress the wound. But the poor girl, suddenly waking up -to the peril of her position, would not permit him to touch her, and, -raising herself with an effort in her bed, exclaimed-- - -"Indeed, Mr. Long, you shall not touch my back again--you very well -know that when I became your patient I was in perfect health, but now -you are killing me!" Without losing his self-command at this pathetic -appeal, he looked into her earnest eyes, and said, impressively-- - -"Whatever inconvenience you are now suffering, it will be of short -duration, for in two or three days you will be in better health than -you ever were in your life." - -But his words did not restore her confidence. The next day (the 16th) -Mr., now Sir Benjamin, Brodie was sent for, and found on the wretched -girl's back an inflamed surface about the size of a plate, having in -the centre a spot as large as the palm of his hand, which was in a -state of mortification. The time for rescue was past. Sir Benjamin -prescribed a saline draught to allay the sickness; and within -twenty-four hours Catherine Cashin, who a fortnight before had been in -perfect health and high spirits--an unusually lovely girl, in her 25th -year--lay upon her bed in the quiet of death. - -An uproar immediately ensued; and there was an almost universal cry -from the intelligent people of the country, that the empiric should be -punished. A coroner's inquest was held; and, in spite of the efforts -made by the charlatan's fashionable adherents, a verdict was obtained -from the jury of man-slaughter against St. John Long. Every attempt -was made by a set of influential persons of high rank to prevent the -law from taking its ordinary course. The issue of the warrant for the -apprehension of the offender was most mysteriously and scandalously -delayed: and had it not been for the energy of Mr. Wakley, who, in a -long and useful career of public service, has earned for himself much -undeserved obloquy, the affair would, even after the verdict of the -coroner's jury, have been hushed up. Eventually, however, on Saturday, -October 30, St. John Long was placed in the dock of old Bailey, -charged with the manslaughter of Miss Cashin. Instead of deserting him -in his hour of need, his admirers--male and female--presented -themselves at the Central Criminal Court, to encourage him by their -sympathy, and to give evidence in his favour. The carriages of -distinguished members of the nobility brought fair freights of the -first fashion of May-fair down to the gloomy court-house that adjoins -Newgate; and belles of the first fashion sat all through the day in -the stifling atmosphere of a crowded court, looking languishingly at -their hero in the dock, who, from behind his barrier of rue and -fennel, distributed to them smiles of grateful recognition. The Judge -(Mr. Justice Park) manifested throughout the trial a strong -partisanship with the prisoner; and the Marchioness of Ormond, who was -accommodated with a seat on the bench by his Lordship's side, -conversed with him in whispers during the proceedings. The summing up -was strongly in favour of the accused; but, in spite of the partial -judge, and an array of fashionable witnesses in favour of the -prisoner, the jury returned a verdict of guilty. - -As it was late on Saturday when the verdict was given, the judge -deferred passing sentence till the following Monday. At the opening of -the court on that day a yet greater crush of the _beau monde_ was -present; and the judge, instead of awarding a term of imprisonment to -the guilty man, condemned him merely to pay a fine of L250, or to be -imprisoned till such fine was paid. Mr. St. John Long immediately took -a roll of notes from his pocket, paid the mulct, and leaving the court -with his triumphant friends, accepted a seat in Lord Sligo's -curricle, and drove to the west end of the town. - -The scandalous sentence was a fit conclusion to the absurd scenes -which took place in the court of the Old Bailey, and at the coroner's -inquest. At one or the other of these inquiries the witnesses advanced -thousands of outrageous statements, of which the following may be -taken as a fair specimen:-- - -One young lady gave evidence that she had been cured of consumption by -Mr. Long's liniment; she knew she had been so cured, because she had a -very bad cough, and, after the rubbing in all the ointment, the cough -went away. An old gentleman testified that he had for years suffered -from attacks of the gout, at intervals of from one to three months; he -was convinced Mr. Long had cured him, because he had been free from -gout for five weeks. Another gentleman had been tortured with -headache; Mr. Long applied his lotion to it--the humour which caused -his headache came away in a clear limpid discharge. A third gentleman -affirmed that Mr. Long's liniment had reduced a dislocation of his -child's hip-joint. The Marchioness of Ormond, on oath, stated that she -_knew_ that Miss Cashin's back was rubbed with the same fluid as she -and her daughters had used to wash their hands with; but she admitted -that she neither _saw_ the back rubbed, nor _saw_ the fluid with which -it was rubbed taken from the bottle. Sir Francis Burdett also bore -testimony to the harmlessness of Mr. Long's system of practice. Mr. -Wakley, in the _Lancet_, asserted that Sir Francis Burdett had called -on Long to ask him if his liniment would give the Marquis of Anglesea -a leg, in the place of the one he lost at Waterloo, if it were -applied to the stump. Long gave an encouraging answer; and the lotion -was applied, with the result of producing not an entire foot and -leg--but a great toe! - -Miss Cashin's death was quickly followed by another fatal case. A Mrs. -Lloyd died from the effects of the corrosive lotion; and again a -coroner's jury found St. John Long guilty of manslaughter, and again -he was tried at the Old Bailey--but this second trial terminated in -his acquital. - -It seems scarcely creditable, and yet it is true, that these exposures -did not have the effect of lessening his popularity. The respectable -organs of the Press--the _Times_, the _Chronicle_, the _Herald_, the -_John Bull_, the _Lancet_, the _Examiner_, the _Spectator_, the -_Standard_, the _Globe_, _Blackwood_, and _Fraser_, combined in doing -their best to render him contemptible in the eyes of his supporters. -But all their efforts were in vain. His old dupes remained staunch -adherents to him, and every day brought fresh converts to their body. -With unabashed front he went everywhere, proclaiming himself a martyr -in the cause of humanity, and comparing his evil treatment to the -persecutions that Galileo, Harvey, Jenner, and Hunter underwent at the -hands of the prejudiced and ignorant. Instead of uncomplainingly -taking the lashes of satirical writers, he first endeavored to bully -them into silence, and swaggering into newspaper and magazine offices -asked astonished editors how they _dared_ to call him a _quack_. -Finding, however, that this line of procedure would not improve his -position, he wrote his defence, and published it in an octavo volume, -together with numerous testimonials of his worth from grateful -patients, and also a letter of cordial support from Dr. Ramadge, M.D., -Oxon., a fellow of the College of Physicians. In a ridiculous and -ungrammatical epistle, defending this pernicious quack, who had been -convicted of manslaughter, Dr. Ramadge displayed not less anxiety to -blacken the reputation of his own profession, than he did to clear the -fame of the charlatan whom he designated "_a guiltless and a cruelly -persecuted individual!!!_" The book itself is one of the most -interesting to be found in quack literature. On the title-page is a -motto from Pope--"No man deserves a monument who could not be wrapped -in a winding-sheet of papers written against him"; and amongst pages -of jargon about humoral pathology, it contains confident predictions -that if his victims had _continued_ in his system, they would have -lived. The author accuses the most eminent surgeons and physicians of -his time of gross ignorance, and of having conspired together to crush -him, because they were jealous of his success and envious of his -income. He even suggests that the same saline draught, prescribed by -Sir Benjamin Brodie, killed Miss Cashin. Amongst those whose -testimonials appear in the body of the work are the _then_ Lord -Ingestre (his enthusiastic supporter), Dr. Macartney, the Marchioness -of Ormond, Lady Harriet Kavanagh, the Countess of Buckinghamshire, and -the Marquis of Sligo. The Marchioness of Ormond testifies how Mr. Long -had miraculously cured her and her daughter of "headaches," and her -youngest children of "smart attacks of feverish colds, one with -inflammatory sore throat, the others with more serious bad symptoms." -The Countess of Buckinghamshire says she is cured of "headache and -lassitude"; and Lord Ingestre avows his belief that Mr. Long's system -is "preventive of disease," because he himself is much less liable to -catch cold than he was before trying it. - -Numerous pamphlets also were written in defence of John St. John Long, -Esq., M.R.S.L., and M.R.A.S. An anonymous author (calling himself a -graduate of Trinity College, Cambridge, and Member of the Middle -Temple), in a tract dated 1831, does not hesitate to compare the -object of his eulogy with the author of Christianity. "But who can -wonder at Mr Long's persecutions? The brightest character that ever -stept was persecuted, even unto death! His cures were all perverted, -but they were not the less complete; they were miraculous, but they -were not the less certain!" - -To the last St. John Long retained his practice; but death removed him -from the scene of his triumphs while he was still a young man. The -very malady, his control over which he had so loudly proclaimed, -brought his career--in which knavery or self-delusion, doubtless both, -played a part--to an end. He died of consumption, at the age of -thirty-seven years. Even in the grave his patients honoured him, for -they erected an elegant and costly monument to his memory, and adorned -it with the following inscription. - - "It is the fate of most men - To have many enemies, and few friends. - This monumental pile - Is not intended to mark the career, - But to shew - How much its inhabitant was respected - By those who knew his worth, - And the benefits - Derived from his remedial discovery. - He is now at rest, - And far beyond the praises or censures - Of this world. - Stranger, as you respect the receptacle of the dead - (As one of the many who will rest here), - Read the name of - John Saint John Long - without comment." - -Notwithstanding the exquisite drollery of this inscription, in -speaking of a plebeian quack-doctor (who, by the exercise of -empiricism, raised himself to the possession of L5000 per annum, and -the intimate friendship of numbers of the aristocracy) as the victim -of "many enemies and few friends," it cannot be said to be open to -much censure. Indeed, St. John Long's worshippers were for the most -part of that social grade in which bad taste is rare, though weakness -of understanding possibly may not be uncommon. - -The sepulchre itself is a graceful structure, and occupies a prominent -position in the Kensal Green cemetery, by the side of the principal -carriage-way, leading from the entrance-gate to the chapel of the -burial-ground. Immediately opposite to it, on the other side of the -gravel drive, stands, not inappropriately, the flaunting sepulchre of -Andrew Ducrow, the horse-rider, "whose death," the inscription informs -us, "deprived the arts and sciences of an eminent professor and -liberal patron." When any cockney bard shall feel himself inspired to -write an elegy on the west-end grave-yard, he will not omit to compare -John St. John Long's tomb with that of "the liberal patron of the arts -and sciences," and also with the cumbrous heap of masonry which -covers the ashes of Dr. Morrison, hygeist, which learned word, being -interpreted, means "the inventor of Morrison's pills." - -To give a finishing touch to the memoir of this celebrated charlatan, -it may be added that after his death his property became the subject -of tedious litigation; and amongst the claimants upon it was a woman -advanced in years, and of an address and style that proved her to -belong to a very humble state of life. This woman turned out to be St. -John Long's wife. He had married her when quite a lad, had found it -impossible to live with her, and consequently had induced her to -consent to an amicable separation. This discovery was a source of -great surprise, and also of enlightenment to the numerous high-born -and richly-endowed ladies who had made overtures of marriage to the -idolized quack, and, much to their surprise, had had their advances -adroitly but firmly declined. - -There are yet to be found in English society, ladies--not silly, -frivolous women, but some of those on whom the world of intellect has -put the stamp of its approval--who cherish such tender reminiscences -of St. John Long, that they cannot mention his name without their eyes -becoming bright with tears. Of course this proves nothing, save the -credulity and fond infatuation of the fair ones who love. The hands of -women decked Nero's tomb with flowers. - -[Illustration: _THE ANATOMIST_] - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - -THE QUARRELS OF PHYSICIANS. - - -For many a day authors have had the reputation of being more sensitive -and quarrelsome than any other set of men. Truth to tell, they are not -always so amiable and brilliant as their works. There is in them the -national churlishness inducing them to nurse a contempt for every one -they don't personally know, and a spirit of antagonism towards nearly -every one they do. But to say this is only to say that they are made -of British oak. Unfortunately, however, they carry on their -contentions in a manner that gives them a wide publicity and a -troublesome duration of fame. Soldiers, when they quarrelled in the -last century, shot one another like gentlemen, at two paces' distance, -and with the crack of their pistols the whole noise of the matter -ceased. Authors, from time immemorial, have in their angry moments -rushed into print, and lashed their adversaries with satire, rendered -permanent by aid of the printer's devil,--thus letting posterity know -all the secrets of their folly, whilst the merciful grave put an end -to all memorial of the extravagances of their friends. There was -less love between Radcliffe and Hannes, Freind and Blackmore, Gibbons -and Garth, than between Pope and Dennis, Swift and Grub Street. But we -know all about the squabbles of the writers from their poems; whereas -only a vague tradition, in the form of questionable anecdotes, has -come down to us of the animosities of the doctors--a tradition which -would long ere this have died out, had not Garth--author as well as -physician--written the "Dispensary," and a host of dirty little -apothecaries contracted a habit of scribbling lampoons about their -professional superiors. - -Luckily for the members of it, the Faculty of Medicine is singularly -barren of biographies. The career of a physician is so essentially one -of confidence, that even were he to keep a memorial of its interesting -occurrences, his son wouldn't dare to sell it to a publisher as the -"Revelations of a Departed Physician." Long ere it would be decent or -safe to print such a diary, the public would have ceased to take an -interest in the writer. Pettigrew's "Life of Lettsom," and Macilwain's -"Memoirs of Abernethy," are almost the only two passable biographies -of eminent medical practitioners in the English language; and the last -of these does not presume to enter fully on the social relations of -the great surgeon. The lives of Hunter and Jenner are meagre and -unworthily executed, and of Bransby Cooper's Life of his uncle little -can be said that is not in the language of emphatic condemnation. - -From this absence of biographical literature the medical profession at -least derives this advantage--the world at large knows comparatively -little of their petty feuds and internal differences than it would -otherwise. - -The few memorials, however, that we have of the quarrels of physicians -are of a kind that makes us wish we had more. Of the great battle of -the apothecaries with the physicians we have already spoken in the -notice of Sir Samuel Garth. To those who are ignorant of human nature -it may appear incredible that a body, so lovingly united against -common foes, should have warred amongst themselves. Yet such was the -case. A London druggist once put up at the chief inn of a provincial -capital, whither he had come in the course of his annual summer ride. -The good man thought it would hurt neither his health nor his -interests to give "a little supper" to the apothecaries of the town -with whom he was in the habit of doing business. Under the influence -of this feeling he sallied out from "The White Horse," and spent a few -hours in calling on his friends--asking for orders and delivering -invitations. On returning to his inn, he ordered a supper for -twelve--as eleven medical gentlemen had engaged to sup with him. When -the hour appointed for the repast was at hand, a knock at the door was -followed by the appearance of guest A, with a smile of intense -benevolence and enjoyment. Another rap--and guest B entered. A looked -blank--every trace of happiness suddenly vanishing from his face. B -stared at A, as much as to say, "You be ----!" A shuffled with his -feet, rose, made an apology to his host for leaving the room to attend -to a little matter, and disappeared. Another rap--and C made his bow -of greeting. "I'll try to be back in five minutes, but if I'm not, -don't wait for me," cried B, hurriedly seizing his hat and rushing -from the apartment. C, a cold-blooded, phlegmatic man, sat down -unconcernedly, and was a picture of sleeping contentment till the -entry of D, when his hair stood on end, and he fled into the inn-yard, -as if he were pursued by a hyena. E knocked and said, "How d' you do?" -D sprung from his chair, and shouted, "Good-bye!" And so it went on -till, on guest No. 11 joining the party--that had received so many new -comers, and yet never for an instant numbered more than three--No. 10 -jumped through the window, and ran down the street to the bosom of his -family. The hospitable druggist and No. 11 found, on a table provided -for twelve, quite as much supper as they required. - -Next morning the druggist called on A for an explanation of his -conduct. "Sir," was the answer, "I could not stop in the same room -with such a scoundrel as B." So it went straight down the line. B had -vowed never to exchange words with C. C would be shot rather than sit -at the same table with such a scoundrel as D. - -"You gentlemen," observed the druggist, with a smile to each, "seem to -be almost as well disposed amongst yourselves as your brethren in -London; only they, when they meet, don't run from each other, but draw -up, square their elbows, and fight like men." - -The duel between Mead and Woodward, as it is more particularly -mentioned in another part of these volumes, we need here only to -allude to. The contest between Cheyne and Wynter was of a less bloody -character. Cheyne was a Bath physician, of great practice and yet -greater popularity--dying in 1743, at the age of seventy-two. At one -time of his life he was so prodigiously fat that he weighed 32 stone, -he and a gentleman named Tantley being the two stoutest men in -Somersetshire. One day, after dinner, the former asked the latter what -he was thinking about. - -"I was thinking," answered Tantley, "how it will be possible to get -either you or me into the grave after we die." - -Cheyne was nettled, and retorted, "Six or eight stout fellows will do -the business for me, but you must be taken at twice." - -Cheyne was a sensible man, and had more than one rough passage of arms -with Beau Nash, when the beau was dictator of the pump-room. Nash -called the doctor in and asked him to prescribe for him. The next day, -when the physician called and inquired if his prescription had been -followed, the beau languidly replied:-- - -"No, i' faith, doctor, I haven't followed it. 'Pon honour, if I had I -should have broken my neck, for I threw it out of my bed-room window." - -But Cheyne had wit enough to reward the inventor of the white hat for -this piece of insolence. One day he and some of his learned friends -were enjoying themselves over the bottle, laughing with a heartiness -unseemly in philosophers, when, seeing the beau draw near, the doctor -said:-- - -"Hush, we must be grave now, here's a fool coming our way." - -Cheyne became ashamed of his obesity, and earnestly set about -overcoming it. He brought himself down by degrees to a moderate diet, -and took daily a large amount of exercise. The result was that he -reduced himself to under eleven stone, and, instead of injuring his -constitution, found himself in the enjoyment of better health. -Impressed with the value of the discovery he had made, he wrote a book -urging all people afflicted with chronic maladies to imitate him and -try the effects of temperance. Doctors, notwithstanding their precepts -in favour of moderation, neither are, nor ever have been, averse to -the pleasures of the table. Many of them warmly resented Cheyne's -endeavours to bring good living into disrepute, possibly deeming that -their interests were attacked not less than their habits. Dryden -wrote, - - "The first physicians by debauch were made. - Excess began, and sloth sustained the trade; - By chase our long-liv'd fathers earned their food, - Toil strung their nerves and purified their blood; - But we, their sons, a pamper'd race of men, - Are dwindled down to threescore years and ten. - Better to hunt in fields for health unbought, - Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught; - The wise for cure on exercise depend, - God never made his work for man to mend." - -Dr. Wynter arose to dispose of Cheyne in a summary fashion. Wynter had -two good reasons for hating Cheyne: Wynter was an Englishman and loved -wine, Cheyne was a Scotchman and loved milk. - - DR. WYNTER TO DR. CHEYNE. - - "Tell me from whom, fat-headed Scot, - Thou didst thy system learn; - From Hippocrate thou hadst it not, - Nor Celsus, nor Pitcairn. - - "Suppose we own that milk is good, - And say the same of grass; - The one for babes is only food, - The other for an ass. - - "Doctor, one new prescription try - (A friend's advice forgive), - Eat grass, reduce thyself, and die, - Thy patients then may live." - -Cheyne responded, with more wit and more good manners, in the -following fashion:-- - - "DR. CHEYNE TO DR. WYNTER. - - "My system, doctor, is my own, - No tutor I pretend; - My blunders hurt myself alone, - But yours your dearest friend. - - "Were you to milk and straw confin'd, - Thrice happy might you be; - Perhaps you might regain your mind, - And from your wit be free." - - "I can't your kind prescription try, - But heartily forgive; - 'Tis natural you should wish me die, - That you yourself may live." - -The concluding two lines of Cheyne's answer were doubtless little to -the taste of his unsuccessful opponent. - -In their contentions physicians have not often had recourse to the -duel. With them an appeal to arms has rarely been resorted to, but -when it has been deliberately made the combatants have usually fought -with decision. The few duels fought between women have for the most -part been characterized by American ferocity. Madame Dunoyer mentions -a case of a duel with swords between two ladies of rank, who would -have killed each other had they not been separated. In a feminine duel -on the Boulevard St. Antoine, mentioned by De la Colombeire, both the -principals received several wounds on the face and bosom--a most -important fact illustrative of the pride the fair sex take in those -parts.[21] Sometimes ladies have distinguished themselves by fighting -duels with men. Mademoiselle Dureux fought her lover Antinotti in an -open street. The actress Maupin challenged Dumeny, but he declined to -give her satisfaction; so the lady stripped him of watch and -snuff-box, and bore them away as trophies of victory. The same lady, -on another occasion, having insulted in a ball-room a distinguished -personage of her own sex, was requested by several gentlemen to quit -the entertainment. She obeyed, but forthwith challenged and fought -each of the meddlesome cavaliers--and killed them all! The slaughter -accomplished, she returned to the ball-room, and danced in the -presence of her rival. The Marquise de Nesle and the Countess -Polignac, under the Regency, fought with pistols for the possession of -the Duc de Richelieu. In or about the year 1827, a lady of -Chateauroux, whose husband had received a slap in the face, called out -the offender, and severely wounded him in a duel fought with swords. -The most dramatic affair of honour, however, in the annals of female -duelling occurred in the year 1828, when a young French girl -challenged a _garde du corps_ who had seduced her. At the meeting the -seconds took the precaution of loading without ball, the fair -principal of course being kept in ignorance of the arrangement. She -fired first and saw her seducer remain unhurt. Without flinching, or -changing colour, she stood watching her adversary, whilst he took a -deliberate aim (in order to test her courage), and then, after a -painful pause, fired into the air. - - [21] _Vide_ Millingen's "History of Duelling." - -Physicians have been coupled with priests, as beings holding a -position between the two sexes. In the Lancashire factories they -allow women and clergymen the benefit of an entree--because they don't -understand business. Doctors and ladies could hardly be coupled -together by the same consideration; but they might be put in one class -out of respect to that gentleness of demeanour and suavity of voice -which distinguish the members of the medical profession, in common -with well-bred women. - -Gentle though they be, physicians have, however, sometimes indulged in -wordy wrangling, and then had recourse to more sanguinary arguments. - -The duel between Dr. Williams and Dr. Bennet was one of the bloodiest -in the eighteenth century. They first battered each other with -pamphlets, and then exchanged blows. Matters having advanced so far, -Dr. Bennet proposed that the fight should be continued in a -gentlemanly style--with powder instead of fists. The challenge was -declined; whereupon Dr. Bennet called on Dr. Williams, to taunt him -with a charge of cowardice. No sooner had he rapped at the door, than -it was opened by Williams himself, holding in his hand a pistol loaded -with swan-shot, which he, without a moment's parley, discharged into -his adversary's breast. Severely wounded, Bennet retired across the -street to a friend's house, followed by Williams, who fired another -pistol at him. Such was the demoniacal fury of Williams, that, not -contented with this outrage, he drew his sword, and ran Bennet through -the body. But this last blow was repaid. Bennet managed to draw his -rapier, and give his ferocious adversary a home-thrust--his sword -entering the breast, coming out through the shoulder-blade, and -snapping short. Williams crawled back in the direction of his house, -but before he could reach it fell down dead. Bennet lived only four -hours. A pleasant scene for the virtuous capital of a civilized and -Christian people! - -The example of Dr. Bennet and Dr. Williams was not lost upon the -physicians of our American cousins. In the August of 1830, a meeting -took place, near Philadelphia, between Dr. Smith and Dr. Jeffries. -They exchanged shots at eight paces, without inflicting any injury, -when their friends interposed, and tried to arrange the difficulty; -but Dr. Jeffries swore that he would not leave the ground till some -one had been killed. The principals were therefore put up again. At -the second exchange of shots Dr. Smith's right arm was broken, when he -gallantly declared that, as he was wounded, it would be gratifying to -his feelings, to be killed. Third exchange of shots, and Dr. Smith, -firing with his left arm, hits his man in the thigh, causing immense -loss of blood. Five minutes were occupied in bandaging the wound; when -Dr. Jeffries, properly primed with brandy, requested that no further -obstacles might be raised between him and satisfaction. For a fourth -time the mad men were put up--at the distance of six feet. The result -was fatal to both. Dr. Smith dropped dead with a ball in his heart. -Dr. Jeffries was shot through the breast, and survived only a few -hours. The conduct of Dr. Jeffries during those last few hours was -admirable, and most delightfully in keeping with the rest of the -proceeding. On seeing his antagonist prostrate, the doctor asked if he -was dead. On being assured that his enemy lived no longer, he -observed, "Then I die contented." He then stated that he had been a -school-mate with Dr. Smith, and that, during the fifteen years -throughout which they had been on terms of great intimacy and -friendship, he had valued him highly as a man of science and a -gentleman. - -One of the latest duels in which an English physician was concerned as -a principal was that fought on the 10th of May, 1833, near Exeter, -between Sir John Jeffcott and Dr. Hennis. Dr. Hennis received a wound, -of which he died. The affair was brought into the Criminal Court, and -was for a short time a _cause celebre_ on the western circuit; but the -memory of it has now almost entirely disappeared. - -As we have already stated, duels have been rare in the medical -profession. Like the ladies, physicians have, in their periods of -anger, been content with speaking ill of each other. That they have -not lost their power of courteous criticism and judicious abuse, any -one may learn, who, for a few hours, breathes the atmosphere of their -cliques. It is good to hear an allopathic physician perform his duty -to society by frankly stating his opinion of the character and conduct -of an eminent homoeopathic practitioner. Perhaps it is better still -to listen to an apostle of homoeopathy, when he takes up his parable -and curses the hosts of allopathy. "Sir, I tell you in confidence," -observed a distinguished man of science, tapping his auditor on the -shoulder, and mysteriously whispering in his ear, "I know _things_ -about _that man_ that would make him end his days in penal servitude." -The next day the auditor was closeted in the consulting-room of _that -man_, when that man said--quite in confidence, pointing as he spoke to -a strong box, and jingling a bunch of keys in his pocket--"I have -_papers_ in that box, which, properly used, would tie a certain friend -of ours up by the neck." - -Lettsom, loose-living man though he was for a member of the Society of -Friends, had enough of the Quaker element in him to be very fond of -controversy. He dearly loved to expose quackery, and in some cases did -good service in that way. In the _Medical Journal_ he attacked, A. D. -1806, no less a man than Brodum, the proprietor of the Nervous -Cordial, avowing that that precious compound had killed thousands; and -also stating that Brodum had added to the crime of wholesale murder -the atrocities of having been born a Jew, of having been a shoe-black -in Copenhagen, and of having at some period of his chequered career -carried on an ignoble trade in oranges. Of course Brodum saw his -advantage. He immediately brought an action against Phillips, the -proprietor of the _Medical Journal_, laying his damages at L5000. The -lawyers anticipated a harvest from the case, and were proceeding not -only against Phillips, but various newsvendors also, when a newspaper -editor stept in between Phillips and Brodum, and contrived to settle -the dispute. Brodum's terms were not modest ones. He consented to -withdraw his actions, if the name of the author was given up, and if -the author would whitewash him in the next number of the Journal, -under the same signature. Lettsom consented, paid the two attorneys' -bills, amounting to L390, and wrote the required puff of Brodum and -his Nervous Cordial. - -One of the singular characters of Dublin, a generation ago, was John -Brenan, M.D., a physician who edited the _Milesian Magazine_, a -scurrilous publication of the satirist class, that flung dirt on every -one dignified enough for the mob to take pleasure in seeing him -bespattered with filth. The man certainly was a great blackguard, but -was not destitute of wit. How he carried on the war with the members -of his own profession the following song will show:-- - - "THE DUBLIN DOCTORS. - - "My gentle muse, do not refuse - To sing the Dublin Doctors, O; - For they're the boys - Who make the joys - Of grave-diggers and proctors, O. - - We'll take 'em in procession, O, - We'll take 'em in succession, O; - But how shall we - Say who is he - Shall lead the grand procession, O? - - Least wit and greatest malice, O, - Least wit and greatest malice, O, - Shall mark the man - Who leads the van, - As they march to the gallows, O. - - First come then, Doctor Big Paw, O, - Come first then, Doctor Big Paw, O; - Mrs Kilfoyle - Says you would spoil - Its shape, did you her wig paw, O. - - Come next, dull Dr Labat, O, - Come next, dull Dr Labat, O; - Why is it so, - You kill the doe, - Whene'er you catch the rabbit, O? - - Come, Harvey, drunken dandy, O, - Come, Harvey, drunken dandy, O; - Thee I could paint - A walking saint, - If you lov'd God like brandy, O. - - Come next, Doctor Drumsnuffle, O, - Come next, Doctor Drumsnuffle, O; - Well stuffed with lead, - Your leather head - Is thick as hide of Buffaloe. - - Come next, Colossus Jackson, O, - Come next, Colossus Jackson, O; - As jack-ass mute, - A burthen brute, - Just fit to trot with packs on, O. - - Come next, sweet Paddy Rooney, O, - Come next, sweet Paddy Rooney, O; - Tho' if you stay - Till judgment's day, - You'll come a month too soon-y, O. - - Come next, sweet Breeny Creepmouse, O, - Come next, sweet Breeny Creepmouse, O; - Thee heaven gave - Just sense to shave - A corpse, or an asleep mouse, O. - - For I say, creep-mouse Breeny, O, - For I say, creep-mouse Breeny, O; - Thee I can't sing - The fairy's king, - But I'll sing you their Queen-y O; - - For I say, Dr Breeny, O, - For I say, Dr Breeny, O; - If I for once - Called you a dunce, - I'd shew a judgment weeny, O. - - Come, Richards dull and brazen, O, - Come, Richards dull and brazen, O; - A prosperous drone, - You stand alone, - For wondering sense to gaze on, O. - - Then come, you greasy blockhead, O, - Then come, you greasy blockhead, O; - Balked by your face, - We quickly trace, - Your genius to your pocket, O. - - Come, Crampton, man of capers, O, - Come, Crampton, man of capers, O; - . . . . . - - And come, long Doctor Renney, O, - And come, long Doctor Renney, O; - If sick I'd fee - As soon as thee, - Old Arabella Denny, O. - - Come, Tandragee Ferguson, O, - Come, Tandragee Ferguson, O; - Fool, don't recoil, - But as your foil - Bring Ireland or Puke Hewson, O. - - Come, ugly Dr Alman, O, - Come, ugly Dr Alman, O; - But bring a mask, - Or do not ask, - When come, that we you call man, O. - . . . . . - - Come, Boyton, king of dunces, O, - Come, Boyton, king of dunces, O; - Who call you knave - No lies receive, - Nay, that your name each one says, O. - - Come, Colles, do come, Aby, O, - Come, Colles, do come, Aby, O; - Tho' all you tell, - You'll make them well, - You always 'hould say may be, O. - - Come, beastly Dr Toomy, O, - Come, beastly Dr Toomy, O; - If impudence - Was common sense - As you no sage ere knew me, O. - - Come, smirking, smiling Beattie, O, - Come, smirking, smiling Beattie, O; - In thee I spy - An apple eye - Of cabbage and potaty, O. - - Come, louse-bit Nasom Adams, O, - Come, louse-bit Nasom Adams, O; - In jail or dock - Your face would shock - It thee as base and bad damus, O. - - Come next, Frank Smyth on cockney, O, - Come next, Frank Smyth on cockney, O; - Sweet London's pride, - I see you ride, - Despising all who flock nigh, O. - - And bring your partner Bruen, O, - And bring your partner Bruen, O; - And with him ride - All by your side, - Like two fond turtles cooing, O. - - Come next, Spilsberry Deegan, O, - Come next, Spilsberry Deegan, O; - With grace and air - Come kill the fair, - Your like we'll never, see 'gain, O. - - Come, Harry Grattan Douglass, O, - Come, Harry Grattan Douglass, O; - A doctor's name - I think you claim, - With right than my dog pug less, O. - - Come, Oronoko Harkan, O, - Come, Oronoko Harkan, O; - I think your face - Is just the place - God fix'd the blockhead's mark on, O. - - Come, Christ-denying Taylor, O, - Come, Christ-denying Taylor, O; - Hell made your phiz - On man's a quiz, - But made it for a jailor, O. - - Come, Packwood, come, Carmichael, O, - Come, Packwood, come, Carmichael, O; - Your cancer-paste, - The fools who taste, - Whom it kills not does nigh kill, O. - - Come next, Adonis Harty, O, - Come next, Adonis Harty, O; - Your face and frame - Shew equal claim, - Tam Veneri quam Marti, O. - - Here ends my song on Doctors, O, - Here ends my song on Doctors, O; - Who, when all damn'd - In hell are cramm'd, - Will beggar all the Proctors, O." - -Brenan (to do him justice) was as ready to fell a professional -antagonist and brother with a bludgeon, hunting-whip, or pistol, as he -was to scarify him with doggerel. He was as bold a fellow as Dr. -Walsh, the Hibernian AEsculapius, who did his best to lay Dr. Andrew -Marshall down amongst the daisies and the dead men. Andrew Marshall, -when a divinity-student at Edinburgh, was insulted (whilst officiating -for Stewart, the humanity professor) by a youngster named Macqueen. -The insolence of the lad was punished by the professor (_pro tem._) -giving him a caning. Smarting with the indignity offered him, Macqueen -ran home to his father, imploring vengeance; whereupon the irate sire -promptly sallied forth, and entering Marshall's lodgings, exclaimed:-- - -"Are you the scoundrel that dared to attack my son?" - -"Draw and defend yourself!" screamed the divinity student, springing -from his chair, and presenting a sword-point at the intruder's breast. -Old Macqueen, who had expected to have to deal only with a timid -half-starved usher ready to crouch whiningly under personal -castigation, was so astonished at this reception that he turned and -fled precipitately. This little affair happened in 1775. As a -physician Andrew Marshall was not less valiant than he had been when -a student of theology. On Walsh challenging him, he went out and stood -up at ten paces like a gentleman. Walsh, a little short fellow, -invisible when looked at side-ways, put himself in the regular -attitude, shoulder to the front. Marshall disdained such mean -prudence, and faced his would-be murdered with his cheeks and chest -inflated to the utmost. Shots were exchanged, Dr. Andrew Marshall -receiving a ball in his right arm, and Dr. Walsh, losing a lock of -hair--snipped off by his opponent's bullet, and scattered by the -amorous breeze. Being thus the _gainer_ in the affair, Dr. Andrew -Marshall made it up with his adversary, and they lived on friendly -terms ever afterwards. Why don't some of our living _medici_ bury the -hatchet with a like effective ceremony? - -An affair that ended not less agreeably was that in which Dr. -Brocklesby was concerned as principal, where the would-be belligerents -left the ground without exchanging shots, because their seconds could -not agree on the right number of paces at which to stick up their man. -When Akenside was fool enough to challenge Ballow, a wicked story went -about that the fight didn't come off because one had determined never -to fight in the morning, and the other that he would never fight in -the afternoon. But the fact was--Ballow was a paltry mean fellow, and -shirked the peril into which his ill-manners had brought him. The -lively and pleasant author of "Physic and Physicians," countenancing -this unfair story, reminds us of the off-hand style of John Wilkes in -such little affairs. When asked by Lord Talbot "How many times they -were to fire?" the brilliant demagogue responded-- - -"Just as often as your Lordship pleases--I have brought _a bag of -bullets and a flask of gunpowder_ with me." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - -THE LOVES OF PHYSICIANS. - - -Honour has flowed to physicians by the regular channels of -professional duty in but scant allowance. Their children have been -frequently ennobled by marriage or for political services. Sir Hans -Sloane's daughter Elizabeth, and manor of Chelsea, passed into the -Cadogan family, the lady marrying the second Baron Cadogan. Like Sir -Hans, Dr. Huck Sanders left behind him two daughters, co-heiresses of -his wealth, of whom one (Jane) was ennobled through wedlock, the tenth -Earl of Westmoreland raising her to be his second wife. Lord -Combermere married the heiress of Dr. Gibbings, of Cork. In the same -way Dr. Marwood's property came to the present Sir Marwood Elton by -the marriage of his grandfather with Frances, the daughter and heiress -of the Devonshire doctor. On the other hand, as instances of the -offspring of physicians exalted to the ranks of the aristocracy for -their political services, the Lords Sidmouth, Denman, and Kingsdown -may be mentioned. Henry Addington, created Viscount Sidmouth, of the -county of Devon, was the eldest son of Anthony Addington, M.D., of -Reading--the physician who objected to fighting any brother physician -who had not graduated at either Oxford or Cambridge. Dr. Anthony was -the enthusiastic toady of the great Earl of Chatham. Devoted to his -own interests and the Pitt family, he rose from the humble position of -keeper of a provincial lunatic asylum to eminence in the medical -profession. Coming up to town in 1754, under the patronage of Pitt, he -succeeded in gaining the confidence of the Court, and was, with Dr. -Richard Warren, Dr. Francis Willis, Dr. Thomas Gisborne, Sir Lucas -Pepys, and Dr. Henry Revell Reynolds, examined, in 1782, by the -committee appointed to examine "the physicians who attended his -illness, touching the state of his Majesty's health." He took a very -hopeful view of the king's case; and on being asked the foundation of -his hopes, alluded to his experience in the treatment of the insane at -Reading. The doctor had himself a passion for political intrigue, -which descended to his son. The career of this son, who raised himself -to the Speaker's chair in the House of Commons, to the dignity of -First Minister of the Crown, and to the peerage of the realm, is -matter of history. - -Lord Denman was closely connected with the medical profession by -family ties: his father being Dr. Denman, of Mount Street, Grosvenor -Square, the author of a well-known work on a department of his -profession; his uncle being Dr. Joseph Denman of Bakewell; and his two -sisters having married two eminent physicians, Margaret being the wife -of Sir Richard Croft, Bart., and Sophia the wife of Dr. Baillie. Lord -Kingsdown's medical ancestor was his grandfather, Edward Pemberton, -M.D., of Warrington. - -But though the list of the ennobled descendants of medical -practitioners might be extended to the limits of a volume, the writer -of these pages is not aware of any case in which a doctor has, by the -exercise of his calling, raised himself to the peerage. As yet, the -dignity of a baronetcy is the highest honour conferred on the most -illustrious of the medical faculty, Sir Hans Sloane being the first of -the order to whom that rank was presented. More than once a physician -has won admission into the _noblesse_, but the battle resulting in -such success has been fought in the arena of politics or the bustle of -the law courts. Sylvester Douglas deserted the counter, at which he -commenced life an apothecary, and after a prolonged servitude to, or -warfare with, the cliques of the House of Commons, had his exertions -rewarded and his ambition gratified with an Irish peerage and a -patrician wife. On his elevation he was of course taunted with the -humility of his origin, and by none was the reproach flung at him with -greater bitterness than it was by a brother _parvenu_ and brother -poet. - -"What's his title to be?" asked Sheridan, as he was playing at cards; -"what's Sylvester Douglas to be called?" - -"Lord Glenbervie," was the answer. - -"Good Lord!" replied Sheridan; and then he proceeded to fire off an -_impromptu_, which he had that morning industriously prepared in bed, -and which he subsequently introduced into one of his best satiric -pieces. - - "Glenbervie, Glenbervie, - What's good for the scurvy? - For ne'er be your old trade forgot. - In your arms rather quarter - A pestle and mortar, - And your crest be a spruce gallipot." - -The brilliant partizan and orator displayed more wit, if not better -taste, in his ridicule of Addington, who, in allusion to the rise of -his father from a humble position in the medical profession, was -ordinarily spoken of by political opponents as "The Doctor." On one -occasion, when the Scotch members who usually supported Addington -voted in a body with the opposition, Sheridan, with a laugh of -triumph, fired off a happy mis-quotation from Macbeth,--"Doctor, the -Thanes fly from thee." - -Henry Bickersteth, Lord Langdale, was the luckiest of physicians and -lawyers. He used the medical profession as a stepping-stone, and the -legal profession as a ladder, and had the fortune to win two of the -brightest prizes of life--wealth and a peerage--without the -humiliation and toil of serving a political party in the House of -Commons. The second son of a provincial surgeon, he was apprenticed to -his father, and educated for the paternal calling. On being qualified -to kill, he became medical attendant to the late Earl of Oxford, -during that nobleman's travels on the Continent. Returning to his -native town, Kirby Lonsdale, he for awhile assisted his father in the -management of his practice; but resolved on a different career from -that of a country doctor, he became a member of Caius College, -Cambridge, and devoted himself to mathematical study with such success -that, in 1808, when he was twenty-eight years old, he became Senior -Wrangler and First Smith's prizeman. As late as the previous year he -was consulted medically by his father. In 1811 he was called to the -bar by the Inner Temple, and from that time till his elevation to the -Mastership of the Rolls he was both the most hard-working and -hard-worked of the lawyers in the Equity Courts, to which he confined -his practice. In 1827 he became a bencher of his Inn; and, in 1835, -although he was a staunch and zealous liberal, and a strenuous -advocate of Jeremy Bentham's opinions, he was offered a seat on the -judicial bench by Sir Robert Peel. This offer he declined, though he -fully appreciated the compliment paid him by the Tory chieftain. He -had not, however, to wait long for his promotion. In the following -year (1836) he was, by his own friends, made Master of the Rolls, and -created a peer of the realm, with the additional honour of being a -Privy-Councillor. His Lordship died at Tunbridge Wells, in 1851, in -his sixty-eighth year. It would be difficult to point to a more -enviable career in legal annals than that of this medical lawyer, who -won the most desirable honours of his profession without ever sitting -in the House of Commons, or acting as a legal adviser of the -Crown--and when he had not been called quite twenty-five years. To -give another touch to this picture of a successful life, it may be -added, that Lord Langdale, after rising to eminence, married -Elizabeth, daughter of the Earl of Oxford, to whom he had formerly -been travelling medical attendant. - -Love has not unfrequently smiled on doctors, and elevated them to -positions at which they would never have arrived by their professional -labours. Sir Lucas Pepys, who married the Countess De Rothes, and Sir -Henry Halford, whose wife was a daughter of the eleventh Lord St. John -of Blestoe, are conspicuous amongst the more modern instances of -medical practitioners advancing their social condition by aristocratic -alliances. Not less fortunate was the farcical Sir John Hill, who -gained for a bride the Honourable Miss Jones, a daughter of Lord -Ranelagh--a nobleman whose eccentric opinion, that the welfare of the -country required a continual intermixture of the upper and lower -classes of society, was a frequent object of ridicule with the -caricaturists and lampoon-writers of his time. But the greatest prize -ever made by an AEsculapius in the marriage-market was that acquired by -Sir Hugh Smithson, who won the hand of Percy's proud heiress, and was -created Duke of Northumberland. The son of a Yorkshire baronet's -younger son, Hugh Smithson was educated for an apothecary--a vocation -about the same time followed for several years by Sir Thomas Geery -Cullum, before he succeeded to the family estate and dignity. Hugh -Smithson's place of business was Hatton Garden, but the length of time -that he there presided over a pestle and mortar is uncertain. In 1736 -he became a Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries, but he withdrew from -that learned body, on the books of which his signature may be found, -in the year 1740. A few months after this secession, Sir Hugh led to -the altar the only child and heiress of Algernon Seymour, Duke of -Somerset. There still lives a tradition that the lady made the offer -to Sir Hugh immediately after his rejection by a famous belle of -private rank and modest wealth. Another version of the story is that, -when she heard of his disappointment, she observed publicly, "that the -disdainful beauty was a fool, and that no other woman in England would -be guilty of like folly." On hearing this, the baronet, a singularly -handsome man, took courage to sue for that to which men of far higher -rank would not have presumed to aspire. The success that followed his -daring, of course, brought upon him the arrows of envy. He had won so -much, however, that he could, without ill-humour, bear being laughed -at. On being created Duke of Northumberland in 1766, he could afford -to smile at a proposition that his coronet should be surrounded with -senna, instead of strawberry-leaves; for, however much obscure -jealousy might affect to contemn him, he was no fit object for -disdain--but a gentleman of good intellect and a lordly presence, and -(though he had mixed drugs behind a counter) descended from an old and -honourable family. The reproach of being a Smithson, and no Percy, had -more force when applied to the second duke in the Anti-Jacobin, than -it had when hurled vindictively at the ex-doctor himself by the -mediocrities of the _beau monde_, whom he had beaten on their own -ground by superior attractions and accomplishments. - - "Nay," quoth the Duke, "in thy black scroll - Deductions I espye-- - For those who, poor, and mean, and low, - With children burthen'd lie. - - "And though full sixty thousand pounds - My vassals pay to me, - From Cornwall to Northumberland, - Through many a fair countree; - - "Yet England's church, its king, its laws, - Its cause I value not, - Compared with this, my constant text, - _A penny saved is got_. - - "No drop of princely Percy's blood - Through these cold veins doth run; - With Hotspur's castles, blazon, name, - I still am _poor_ Smithson." - -Considering the opportunities that medical men have for pressing a -suit in love, and the many temptations to gentle emotion that they -experience in the aspect of feminine suffering, and the confiding -gratitude of their fair patients, it is perhaps to be wondered at that -only one medical duke is to be found in the annals of the peerage. -When Swift's Stella was on her death-bed, her physician said, -encouragingly--"Madam, you are certainly near the bottom of the hill, -but we shall endeavour to get you up once more," the _naive_ reply of -the poor lady was, "Doctor, I am afraid I shall be out _of breath_ -before I get to the top again." Not less touching was the fear -expressed by Steele's merry daughter to her doctor, that she should -"die _before the holidays_." Both Stella and Sir Richard's child had -left their personal charms behind them when they so addressed their -physicians; but imagine, my brother, what the effect of such words -would be on your susceptible heart, if they came from the lips of a -beautiful girl. Would you not (think you) try to win other such -speeches from her?--and if you tried, dear sir, surely _you_ would -succeed! - -Prudence would order a physician, endowed with a heart, to treat it in -the same way as Dr. Glynn thought a cucumber ought to be dressed--to -slice it very thin, pepper it plentifully, pour upon it plenty of the -best vinegar, and then--throw it away. A doctor has quite enough work -on his hands to keep the affections of his patients in check, without -having to mount guard over his own emotions. Thackeray says that girls -make love in the nursery, and practise the arts of coquetry on the -page-boy who brings the coals upstairs--a hard saying for simple young -gentlemen triumphing in the possession of a _first_ love. The writer -of these pages could point to a fair dame, who enjoys rank amongst the -highest and wealth equal to the station assigned her by the heralds, -who not only aimed tender glances, and sighed amorously to a young -waxen-faced, blue-eyed apothecary, but even went so far as to write -him a letter proposing an elopement, and other merry arrangements, in -which a carriage, everlastingly careering over the country at the -heels of four horses, bore a conspicuous part. The silly maiden had, -like Dinah, "a fortune in silvyer and gold," amounting to L50,000, and -her blue-eyed Adonis was twice her age; but fortunately he was a -gentleman of honour, and, without divulging the mad proposition of the -young lady, he induced her father to take her away for twelve months' -change of air and scene. Many years since the heroine of this little -episode, after she had become the wife of a very great man, and the -mother of children who bid fair to become ornaments to their -illustrious race, expressed her gratitude cordially to this Joseph of -the doctors, for his magnanimity in not profiting by the absurd -fancies of a child, and the delicacy with which he had taken prompt -measures for her happiness; and, more recently, she manifested her -good will to the man who had offered her what is generally regarded as -the greatest insult a woman can experience, by procuring a commission -in the army for his eldest son. - -The embarrassments Sir John Eliot suffered under from the emotional -overtures of his fair patients are well known. St. John Long himself -had not more admirers amongst the _elite_ of high-born English ladies. -The king had a strong personal dislike to Sir John,--a dislike -possibly heightened by a feeling that it was sheer impudence in a -doctor to capture without an effort the hearts of half the prettiest -women amongst his subjects--and then shrug his shoulders with chagrin -at his success. Lord George Germain had hard work to wring a baronetcy -out of his Majesty for this victim of misplaced affection. - -"Well," said the king, at last grudgingly promising to make Eliot a -baronet--"my Lord, since you desire it, let it be; but remember he -shall not be my physician." - -"No, sir," answered Lord George--"he shall be your Majesty's baronet, -and my physician." - -Amongst other plans Sir John resorted to, to scare away his patients -and patronesses, he had a death's-head painted on his carriage-panels; -but the result of this eccentric measure on his practice and on his -sufferings was the reverse of what he desired. One lady--the daughter -of a noble member of a Cabinet--ignorant that he was otherwise -occupied, made him an offer, and on learning to her astonishment that -he was a married man, vowed that she would not rest till she had -assassinated his wife. - -Poor Radcliffe's loves were of a less flattering sort, though they -resembled Sir John Eliot's in respect of being instances of -reciprocity all on one side. But the amorous follies of Radcliffe, -ludicrous though they became under the touches of Steele's pen, are -dignified and manly when compared with the senile freaks of Dr. Mead, -whose highest delight was to comb the hair of the lady on whom, for -the time being, his affections were set. - -Dr. Cadogan, of Charles the Second's time, was, like Sir John Eliot, a -favourite with the ladies. His wont was to spend his days in shooting -and his evenings in flirtation. To the former of these tastes the -following lines refer:-- - - "Doctor, all game you either ought to shun, - Or sport no longer with the unsteady gun; - But like physicians of undoubted skill, - Gladly attempt what never fails to kill, - Not lead's uncertain dross, but physic's deadly pill." - -Whether he was a good shot we cannot say; but he was sufficiently -adroit as a squire of dames, for he secured as his wife a wealthy -lady, over whose property he had unfettered control. Against the -money, however, there were two important points figuring under the -head of "set-off"--the bride was old and querulous. Of course such a -woman was unfitted to live happily with an eminent physician, on whom -bevies of court ladies smiled whenever he went west of Charing Cross. -After spending a few months in alternate fits of jealous hate and -jealous fondness, the poor creature conceived the terrible fancy that -her husband was bent on destroying her with poison, and so ridding his -life of her execrable temper. One day, when surrounded by her friends, -and in the presence of her lord and master, she fell on her back in a -state of hysterical spasms, exclaiming:-- - -"Ah! he has killed me at last. I am poisoned!" - -"Poisoned!" cried the lady-friends, turning up the whites of their -eyes. "Oh! gracious goodness!--you have done it, doctor!" - -"What do you accuse me of?" asked the doctor, with surprise. - -"I accuse you--of--killing me--ee," responded the wife, doing her best -to imitate a death-struggle. - -"Ladies," answered the doctor, with admirable _nonchalance_, bowing to -Mrs. Cadogan's bosom associates, "it is perfectly false. You are quite -welcome to open her at once, and then you'll discover the calumny." - -John Hunter administered a scarcely less startling reproof to his -wife, who, though devoted in her attachment to him, and in every -respect a lady worthy of esteem, caused her husband at times no little -vexation by her fondness for society. She was in the habit of giving -enormous routs, at which authors and artists, of all shades of merit -and demerit, used to assemble to render homage to her literary powers, -which were very far from common-place. A lasting popularity has -attested the excellence of her song:-- - - "My mother bids me bind my hair - With bands of rosy hue; - Tie up my sleeves with ribbons rare, - And lace my boddice blue. - - "'For why,' she cries, 'sit still and weep, - While others dance and play?' - Alas! I scarce can go or creep, - While Lubin is away. - - "'Tis sad to think the days are gone, - When those we love are near; - I sit upon this mossy stone, - And sigh when none can hear. - - "And while I spin my flaxen thread, - And sing my simple lay, - The village seems asleep or dead, - Now Lubin is away." - -John Hunter had no sympathy with his wife's poetical aspirations, -still less with the society which those aspirations led her to -cultivate. Grudging the time which the labours of practice prevented -him from devoting to the pursuits of his museum and laboratory he -could not restrain his too irritable temper when Mrs. Hunter's -frivolous amusements deprived him of the quiet requisite for study. -Even the fee of a patient who called him from his dissecting -instruments could not reconcile him to the interruption. "I must go," -he would say reluctantly to his friend Lynn, when the living summoned -him from his investigations among the dead, "and earn this d----d -guinea, or I shall be sure to want it to-morrow." Imagine the wrath of -such a man, finding, on his return from a long day's work, his house -full of musical professors, connoisseurs, and fashionable idlers--in -fact, all the confusion and hubbub and heat of a grand party, which -his lady had forgotten to inform him was that evening to come off! -Walking straight into the middle of the principal reception-room, he -faced round and surveyed his unwelcome guests, who were not a little -surprised to see him--dusty, toilworn, and grim--so unlike what "the -man of the house" ought to be on such an occasion. - -"I knew nothing," was his brief address to the astounded crowd--"I -knew nothing of this kick-up, and I ought to have been informed of it -beforehand; but, as I have now returned home to study, I hope the -present company will retire." - -Mrs Hunter's drawing-rooms were speedily empty. - -One of the drollest love stories in medical ana is that which relates -to Dr. Thomas Dawson, a century since alike admired by the inhabitants -of Hackney as a pulpit orator and a physician. Dawson was originally a -Suffolk worthy, unconnected, however, with the eccentric John Dawson, -who, in the reign of Charles the Second, was an apothecary in the -pleasant old town of Framlingham, in that county. His father, a -dissenting minister, had seven sons, and educated six of them for the -Nonconformist pulpit. Of these six, certainly three joined the -Established Church, and became rectors--two of the said three, -Benjamin and Abraham, being controversial writers of considerable -merit. Thomas Dawson adhered to the tenets of his father, and, -combining the vocations of divine and physic-man, preached on Sundays, -and doctored during the rest of the week. He was Mead and Mead's -father in one: though the conditions of human existence, which render -it impossible for one person to be in two places at the same time, -prevented him from leaving chapel to visit his patients, and the next -minute urging the congregation to offer up a prayer for the welfare of -the unfortunate sufferers. Amongst the doctor's circle of acquaintance -Miss Corbett of Hackney was at the same time the richest, the most -devout, and the most afflicted in bodily health. Ministering to her -body and soul, Dr. Dawson had frequent occasions for visiting her. One -day he found her alone, sitting with the large family Bible before -her, meditating on perhaps the grandest chapter in all the Old -Testament. The doctor read the words to which the forefinger of her -right hand pointed--the words of Nathan to David: "_Thou art the -man_." The doctor took the hint; and on the 29th of May, 1758, he -found a wife--and the pious lady won a husband. The only offspring of -this strange match was one son, a Mr. Dawson, who still resides at a -very advanced age of life in the charming village of Botesdale, in -Suffolk. When the writer of these pages was a happy little boy, making -his first acquaintance with Latin and Greek, at the Botesdale Grammar -School, then presided over by the pious, manly, and gentle ----, he -was an especial pet with Mr. Dawson. The worthy gentleman's little -house was in the centre of a large garden, densely stocked with apple -and other fruit trees; and in it he led a very retired life, visited -by only a very few friends, and tended by two or three servants--of -whom one, an ancient serving man, acted as a valet, gardener, and -groom to an antique horse which constituted Mr. Dawson's entire stud. -The small urchin before-mentioned had free access at all times to the -venerable gentleman, and used to bring him the gossip of the town and -school, in exchange for apples and other substantial gifts. Thin and -attenuated, diminutive, so as to be little more than a dwarf, with -vagrant eager eye, hooked as to his nose, and with a long beard, -snowy-white, streaming over his waistcoat, the octogenarian used to -receive his fair-haired child-visitor. May he be happy--as may all old -gentlemen be, who are kind to little schoolboys, and give them apples -and "tips!" - -The day that Abernethy was married he went down to the lecture-room to -deliver his customary instruction to his pupils. His selection of a -wife was as judicious as his marriage was happy; and the funny -stories for long current about the mode in which he made his offer are -known to be those most delusive of fabrications, fearless and extreme -exaggerations of a little particle of the truth. The brutality of -procedure attributed to the great surgeon by current rumour was -altogether foreign to his nature. The Abernethy biscuit was not more -audaciously pinned upon his reputation, than was the absurd falsehood -that when he made his offer to his future wife he had only seen her -once, and then wrote saying he should like to marry her, but as he was -too busy to "make love," she must entertain his proposal without -further preliminaries, and let him know her decision by the end of the -week. - -Of Sir John Eliot the fortunate, mention has already been made in this -chapter. Let us now speak of John Eliot, the luckless hero of a -biography published in 1787, under the title of "A Narrative of the -Life and Death of John Eliot, M.D., containing an account of the Rise, -Progress, and Catastrophe of his unhappy passion for Miss Mary -Boydell." A native of Somersetshire, John Elliot wrote a tragedy when -only twelve years of age, and after serving an apprenticeship to a -London apothecary, fell in love with one Miss Mary Boydell, a niece of -a city alderman. The course of this gentleman's love ran smoothly till -he chanced, by evil fortune, to read an announcement in a newspaper, -that a Miss Boydell had, on the previous day, been led to the altar by -some gentleman--not called Dr. John Elliot, certainly not himself. -Never doubting that _the_ Miss Boydell of the newspaper was _his_ Miss -Boydell, the doctor, without making any further inquiries after the -perfidious fair one, sold his shop and fixtures, and ran off from the -evil city of heartless women, to commune with beasts of the field and -birds of the air in sylvan retirement. Not a little chagrined was Miss -Boydell at the sudden disappearance of her ideal apothecary, whom her -uncle, the alderman, stigmatized in round, honest, indignant language, -as a big blackguard. After twelve years spent in wandering, "a forlorn -wretch, over the kingdom," Dr. Elliott returned to London, set up once -more in business, and began, for a second time, to drive a thriving -trade, when Delilah again crossed his path. "One day," he says, -telling his own story, "entering my shop (for I had commenced again -the business of apothecary) I found two ladies sitting there, one of -whom I thought I could recognize. As soon as she observed me, she -cried out, 'Mr. Elliot! Mr. Elliot!' and fell back in a swoon. The -well-known voice struck me like a shock of electricity--my affections -instantly gushed forth--I fell senseless at her feet. When I came to -myself, I found Miss Boydell sitting by my side." And _his_ Miss -Boydell was Miss Boydell still--innocent of wedlock. - -Imogene being proved true, and Alonzo having come to life, the -youthful couple renewed the engagement entered into more than twelve -years before. The wedding-day was fixed, the wedding-clothes were -provided, when uncle (the alderman), distrustful that his niece's -scranny lover would make a good husband, induced her at the last -moment to jilt him, and marry Mr. Nicols, an opulent bookseller. The -farce was now to wear an aspect of tragedy. Infuriated at being, -after all, _really_ deceived, Dr. Elliot bought two brace of pistols, -and bound them together in pairs. One pair he loaded only with powder; -into the other he put the proper quantum of lead, as well as the -pernicious dust. Armed with these weapons, he lay in wait for the -destroyer of his peace. After some days of watching he saw her in -Prince's Street, walking with the triumphant Nicols. Rushing up, he -fired at her the two pistols (not loaded with ball), and then -snatching the other brace from his pocket, was proceeding to commit -suicide, when he was seized by the bystanders and disarmed. - -The next scene in the drama was the principal court of the Old Bailey, -with Dr. Elliot in the dock, charged with an attempt to murder Miss -Boydell. The jury, being satisfied that the pistols were not loaded -with ball, and that the prisoner only intended to create a startling -impression on Miss Boydell's mind, acquitted him of that charge, and -he was remanded to prison to take his trial for a common assault. -Before this second inquiry, however, could come off, the poor man died -in Newgate, July 22, 1787, of a broken heart--or jail fever. Ere his -death, he took a cruel revenge of the lady, by writing an -autobiographic account of his love experiences, in which appeared the -following passage:--"Fascinated as I was by the charms of this -faithless woman, I had long ceased to be sensible to these defects, or -rather my impassioned imagination had converted them into perfections. -But those who did not labour under the power of this magic were struck -by her ungraceful exterior, and mine ears have not unfrequently been -shocked to hear the tongue of indifference pronounce that the object -of my passion was _ugly and deformed_. Add to this, that Miss Boydell -has long since ceased to boast the bloom of youth, and then let any -person, impartial and unprejudiced, decide whether a passion for her, -so violent as that I have manifested, could be the produce of a slight -and recent acquaintance, or whether it must not rather be the -consequence of a long habit and inveterate intimacy." Such was the -absurd sad story of John Elliot, author of "The Medical Almanack," -"Elements of the Branches of Natural Philosophy," and "Experiments and -Observations on Light and Colours." - -The mournful love-story of Dr. John Elliot made a deep impression on -the popular mind. It is found alluded to in ballads and chap-books, -and more than one penny romance was framed upon it. Not improbably it -suggested the composition of the following parody of Monk Lewis's -"Alonzo the Brave and the Fair Imogene," which appeared at the close -of the last century, during the first run of popularity which that -familiar ballad obtained:-- - - "GILES BOLUS THE KNAVE AND BROWN - SALLY GREEN. - - "A ROMANCE BY M. G. LEWIS. - - "A Doctor so grave and a virgin so bright, - Hob-a-nobbed in some right marasquin; - They swallowed the cordial with truest delight, - Giles Bolus the knave was just five feet in height, - And four feet the brown Sally Green. - - "'And as,' said Giles Bolus, 'to-morrow I go - To physic a feverish land, - At some sixpenny hop, or perhaps the mayor's show, - You'll tumble in love with some smart city beau, - And with him share your shop in the Strand.' - - "'Lord! how can you think so?' Brown Sally Green said, - 'You must know mighty little of me; - For if you be living, or if you be dead, - I swear, 'pon my honour, that none in your stead, - Shall husband of Sally Green be. - - "'And if e'er I by love or by wealth led aside - Am false to Giles Bolus the knave; - God grant that at dinner so amply suppli'd, - Over-eating may give me a pain in the side, - May your ghost then bring rhubarb to physic the bride, - And send her well-dosed to the grave.' - - "To Jamaica the doctor now hastened for gold, - Sally wept till she blew her nose sore; - Yet scarce had a twelvemonth elaps'd, when behold! - A brewer quite stylish his gig that way roll'd, - And stopped it at Sally Green's door. - - "His barrels, his bungs, and his brass-headed cane, - Soon made her untrue to his vows; - The stream of small beer now bewildered her brain; - He caught her while tipsy--denials were vain-- - So he carried her home as his spouse. - - "And now the roast-beef had been blest by the priest, - To cram now the guests had begun; - Tooth and nail, like a wolf, fell the bride on the feast - Nor yet had the clash of her knife and fork ceased, - When a bell (t'was the dustman's) toll'd one. - - "Then first, with amazement, brown Sally Green found, - That a stranger was stuck by her side. - His cravat and his ruffles with snuff were embrown'd; - He ate not--he drank not--but, turning him round, - Sent some pudding away to be fried. - - "His wig was turned forwards, and wort was his height, - His apron was dirty to view; - The women (oh! wondrous) were hushed at the sight, - The cats as they eyed him drew back (well they might), - For his body was pea-green and blue. - - "Now, as all wish'd to speak, but none knew what to say, - They look'd mighty foolish and queer: - At length spoke the lady with trembling--'I pray, - Dear sir, that your peruke aside you would lay, - And partake of some strong or small beer.' - - "The bride shuts her fly-trap--the stranger complies, - And his wig from his phiz deigns to pull. - Adzooks! what a squall Sally gave through surprise! - Like a pig that was stuck, how she opened her eyes, - When she recognized Giles's bare skull. - - "Each miss then exclaimed, while she turn'd up her snout, - 'Sir, your head isn't fit to be seen!'-- - The pot-boys ran in, and the pot-boys ran out, - And couldn't conceive what the noise was about, - While the doctor addressed Sally Green. - - "'Behold me, thou jilt-flirt! behold me!' he cri'd-- - 'I'm Bolus, whom some call the 'knave!' - God grant, that to punish your falsehood and pride, - You should feel at this moment a pain in your side. - Quick, swallow this rhubarb!--I'll physic the bride, - And send her well-dosed to the grave!' - - "Thus saying, the physic her throat he forced down, - In spite of whate'er she could say: - Then bore to his chariot the maiden so brown, - Nor ever again was she seen in that town, - Or the doctor who whisked her away. - - "Not long lived the brewer, and none since that time - To inhabit the brew-house presume; - For old women say that by order sublime - There Sally Green suffers the pain of her crime, - And bawls to get out of the room. - - "At midnight four times in each year does her sprite - With shrieks make the chamber resound. - 'I won't take the rhubarb!' she squalls in affright, - While a cup in his left hand, a draught in his right, - Giles Bolus pursues her around. - - "With wigs so well powdered, twelve doctors so grave, - Dancing hornpipes around them are seen; - They drink chicken-broth, and this horrible stave - Is twanged through each nose, 'To Giles Bolus the knave, - And his patient the sick Sally Green.'" - -In the court of love, Dr. Van Buchell, the empiric, may pass muster as -a physician. When that droll charlatan lost his first wife, in 1775, -he paid her the compliment of preserving her body with great care. Dr. -Hunter, with the assistance of Mr. Cruikshank, injected the -blood-vessels of the corpse with a carmine fluid, so that the cheeks -and lips had the hue of healthy life; the cavities of the body were -artistically packed with the antiseptics used by modern embalmers; and -glass eyes were substituted in place of the filmy balls which Death -had made his own. Decked in a dainty apparel of lace and finest linen, -the body was then placed in a bed of thin paste of plaster of Paris, -which, crystallizing, made a most ornamental couch. The case -containing this fantastic horror had a glass lid, covered with a -curtain; and as Van Buchell kept it in his ordinary sitting-room, he -had the pleasure of introducing his visitors to the lifeless form of -his "dear departed." For several years the doctor lived very happily -with this slough of an immortal soul--never quarrelling with it, never -being scolded by it--on the whole, enjoying an amount of domestic -tranquility that rarely falls to one man's lot. Unwisely he made in -advanced years a new alliance, and manifested a desire to be on with -the new and the old love at the same time. To this Mrs. Van Buchell -(No. 2) strongly objected, and insisted that the quaint coffin of Mrs. -Van Buchell (No. 1) should be removed from the parlour in which she -was expected to spend the greatest part of her days. The eccentric -mode in which Buchell displayed his affection for his first wife was -scarcely less repulsive than the devotion to the interests of -anatomical science which induced Rondeletius to dissect the dead body -of his own child in his theatre at Montpelier. - -Are there no more loves to be mentioned? Yes; let these concluding -pages tell an interesting story of the last generation. - -Fifty years ago the picturesque, sunny town of Holmnook had for its -physician one Dr. Kemp, a grave and reverend AEsculapius, punctilious -in etiquette, with an imposing formality of manner, accurate in -costume, in every respect a courtier of the old school. Holmnook is an -antique market-town, square and compact, a capital in miniature, lying -at the foot of an old feudal castle, in which the Bigods once held -sway. That stronghold of moated towers was three centuries since the -abode of a mighty Duke; Surrey, the poet earl, luckless and inspired, -was born within its walls. The noble acres of the princely house fell -into the hands of a _parvenu_--a rich, grasping lawyer;--that was bad. -The lawyer died and went to his place, leaving the land to the -poor;--that was better. And now the produce of the rich soil, which -whilom sent forth a crop of mailed knights, supports a college of toil -and time-worn peasants, saving their cold thin blood from the penury -of the poor-house, and sheltering them from the contumelies -of--Guardians of the Poor. Hard by the college, housing these ancient -humble children of man, is a school, based on the same beneficent -foundation, where the village lads are taught by as ripe a scholar and -true a gentleman as ever came from the banks of Isis; and round which -temple of learning they play their rough, noisy games, under the -observation of the veterans of the bourg--the almsmen and almswomen -who sit in the sun and on benches before their college, clad in the -blue coats of the charity, and feeling no shame in them, though the -armorial badge of that old lawyer is tacked upon them in red cloth. - -Holmnook is unlike most other English towns of its size, abounding as -it does in large antique mansions, formerly inhabited by the great -officers and dependents on the ducal household, who in many cases were -blood relations of the duke himself. Under the capacious windows of -these old houses, in the streets, and round the market-square, run -rows of limes, spreading their cool shade over the pinnacles of gabled -roofs, and flinging back bars across the shining shingle which -decorates the plaster walls of the older houses. In the centre of the -town stands an enormous church, large enough to hold an entire army of -Christians, and containing many imposing tombs of earls and leaders, -long since gone to their account. - -Think of this old town, its venerable dwellings--each by itself -suggesting a romance. Hear the cooing and lazy flapping of pigeons, -making continual holiday round the massive chimneys. Observe, without -seeming to observe, the mayor's pretty daughter sitting at the open -oriel window of the Guild-hall, merrily singing over her needle-work, -and wondering if her bright ribbon has a good effect on passers below. -Heed the jingle of a harpsichord in the rector's parlour. Be pleased -to remember that the year is 1790--not 1860. Take a glass of stinging -ale at "The Knight of Armour" hostelry--and own you enjoy it. Take -another, creaming good-naturedly up under your lip, and confess you -like it better than its predecessor. See the High Sheriff's carriage -pass through the excited town, drawn by four enormous black horses, -and having three Bacchic footmen hanging on behind. Do all this, and -then you'll have a faint notion of Holmnook, its un-English -picturesqueness, its placid joy, and experience of pomp. - -Who is the gentleman emerging from the mansion on the causeway, in -this year 1790--with white peruke and long pig-tail, snuff-coloured -coat and velvet collar, tight dark nether garments, silk stockings, -and shoes with buckles, volumes of white shirt-frill rising up under -his chin? As he taps his shoes on his doorstep you can see he is proud -of his leg, a pleasant pride, whether one has reason for it or not! - -Seventy years of age, staid, decorous, and thoroughly versed in the -social proprieties of the old world, now gone clean from us, like -chivalry or chartism, Dr. Kemp was an important personage in Holmnook -and its vicinity. An _eclat_ was his that a country doctor does not -usually possess. For he was of gentle blood, being a cadet of an old -and wealthy family on the other side of the country, the -representative of which hailed him "cousin," and treated him with the -intimacy of kinship--the kinship of 1790. - -Michael Kemp's youth had been spent away from Holmnook. Doubtless so -polite and dignified a gentleman had once aimed at a brighter lot than -a rural physician's. Doubtless he had a history, but he kept it to -himself. He had never married! The rumour went that he had been -disappointed--had undertaken the conquest of a high-born lady, who -gave another ending to the game; and having conquered him, went off to -conquer others. Ladies could do such things in the last century--when -men had hearts. - -Anyhow, Michael Kemp, M.D., was an old bachelor, of spotless honour, -and a reputation that scandal never dared to trifle with. - -A lady, much respected by the simple inhabitants of Holmsnook, kept -his house. - -Let us speak of her--fair and forty, comely, with matronly outlines, -but graceful. Pleasant of voice, cheerful in manner, active in -benevolence, Mistress Alice was a great favourite; no christening or -wedding could go off without her for miles around. The doctor's -grandest patients treated her as an equal; for apart from her personal -claims to respect and good-will, she was, it was understood, of the -doctor's blood--a poor relation, gentle by birth as she was by -education. Mistress Alice was a great authority amongst the Holmnook -ladies, on all matters pertaining to dress and taste. Her own ordinary -costume was an artistic one. A large white kerchief, made so as to sit -like a jacket, close and high round the throat, concealed her fair -arms and shoulders, and reached down to the waist of her dress, which, -in obedience to the fashion of the time, ran close beneath her arms. -In 1790 a lady's waist at Holmnook occupied just about the same place -where the drapery of a London belle's Mazeppa harness offers its first -concealment to its wearer's charms. But it was on her foot-gear that -Mistress Alice devoted especial care. The short skirts of that day -encouraged a woman to set her feet off to the best advantage. Mistress -Alice wore natty high-heeled shoes and clocked stockings--bright -crimson stockings with yellow clocks. - -Do you know what clocked stockings were, ladies? This writer is not -deeply learned on such matters, but having seen a pair of Mistress -Alice's stockings, he can tell you that they had on either side, -extending from the heel upwards some six inches, flowers gracefully -embroidered with a light yellow silk on the crimson ground. And these -wreaths of broidery were by our ancestors called clocks. This writer -could tell something else about Mistress Alice's apparel. She had for -grand evenings of high festivity white kid gloves reaching up to the -elbow, and having a slit at the tips of the forefinger and thumb of -each hand. It was an ordinary fashion long syne. So, ladies could let -out the tips of those digits to take a pinch of snuff! - -One night Michael Kemp, M.D., Oxon., was called up to come with every -possible haste to visit a sick lady, urgently in want of him. The -night-bell was rung violently, and the messenger cried to the doctor -over and over from the pavement below to make good speed. The doctor -did his best to comply; but, as ill-luck would have it, after he had -struck a light the candle illumined by it fell down, and left the -doctor in darkness. This was very annoying to the good man, for he -could not reconcile it to his conscience to consume time in lighting -another, and yet it was hard for such a decorous man to make his hasty -toilet in the dark. - -He managed, however, better than he expected. His peruke came to hand -all right; so did the tight inexpressibles; so did the snuff-coloured -coat with high velvet collar; so did the buckled shoes. Bravo! - -In another five minutes the active physician had groped his way -down-stairs, emerged from his stately dwelling, and had run to his -patient's house. - -In a trice he was admitted; in a twinkle he was up the stairs; in -another second he was by the sick lady's bedside, round which were -seated a nurse and three eminent Holmnook gossips. - -He was, however, little prepared for the reception he met with--the -effect his appearance produced. - -The sick lady, struggling though she was with severe pain, laughed -outright. - -The nurse said, "Oh my!--Doctor Kemp!" - -Gossip No. 1 exclaimed, "Oh, you'll kill me!" - -Gossip No. 2 cried, "I can't believe my eyes!" - -Gossip No. 3 exploded with--"Oh, Doctor Kemp, do look at your -stockings!" - -And the doctor, obeying, did look at his stockings. One was of black -silk--the other was a crimson one, with yellow clocks. - -Was there not merry talk the next day at Holmnook! Didn't one hear -blithe hearty laughter at every street corner--at every window under -the limes? - -What did they laugh about? What did they say? - -Only this, fair reader-- - - "_Honi soit qui mal y pense_." - -God bless thee, Holmnook! The bells of thy old church-tower are -jangling in my ears though thou art a hundred miles away. I see the -blue heavens kissing thy limes! - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - -LITERATURE AND ART. - - -The old proverb says, "Every man is a physician or a fool by forty." -Sir Henry Halford happening to quote the old saw to a circle of -friends, Canning, with a pleasant humour smiling in his eyes, -inquired, "Sir Henry, mayn't he be both?" - -John Locke, according to academic registration, was not a physician -till he was past forty. Born in 1632, he took his M.B. degree Feb. -6th, 1674. To what extent he exercised his profession is still a -matter of dispute; but there is no doubt that he was for some period -an active practitioner of it. Of his letters to Hans Sloane, that are -still extant, the following is one:-- - - - "DEAR SIR,-- - - "I have a patient here sick of the fever at this season. It - seems not violent; but I am told 'tis a sort that is not - easily thrown off. I desire to know of you what your fevers - in town are, and what methods you find most successful in - them? I shall be obliged by your favour if you will give me - a word or two by to-morrow's post, and direct it to me, to - be left at Mr Harrison's, in the 'Crown,' at Harlow. - - "I am, Sir, - "Your most humble servant, - "J LOCKE." - - -Popularly the name of Locke is as little associated with the -profession of medicine as that of Sir James Mackintosh, who was a -practising physician, till ambition and poverty made him select a more -lucrative vocation, and turn his energies to the bar. - -Distinguished amongst literary physicians was Andrew Borde, who -studied Medicine at Oxford and Montpelier, and it is said acted as a -physician in the service of Henry the Eighth. Borde's career has -hitherto been a puzzle to antiquaries who, though interested in it, -have been able to discover only little about it. It was his whim to -sign himself Andrew Perforatus (his name really signifying "a -cottage,"--"bordarius=a cottager"). In the same way after him Robert -Fludd, the Rosicrucian doctor, adopted for his signature Robertus de -Fluctibus. In his works he occasionally gives the reader a glimpse of -his personal adventures; and from contemporary literature, as well as -tradition, we learn enough to feel justified in believing that he -created the cant term "Merry Andrew." - -Of his freaks, about the most absurd was his conduct when acting as -foreman of a jury in a small borough town. A prisoner was charged with -stealing a pair of leather breeches, but though appearances were -strongly against the accused (who was a notorious rogue), the evidence -was so defective that to return a verdict of guilty on the charge was -beyond the logic and conscience of the twelve good men and true. No -course seemed open to them but to acquit the knave; when Andrew Borde -prevailed on them, _as_ the evidence of stealing the leather breeches -was so defective, to bring him in guilty of manslaughter. - -It is needless to say that the jurymen took Andrew's advice, and -finding a verdict to the best of those abilities with which it had -pleased God to bless them, astonished the judge and the public, not -less than the prisoner, with the strange conclusion at which they had -arrived. - -Anthony a Wood and Hearne tell us the little that has hitherto been -known of this eccentric physician. To that little an important -addition may be made from the following letter, never before -published, the original of which is in the State-Paper Office. The -epistle is penned to Henry the Eighth's minister, Thomas Cromwell. - - "Jesus. - - "Offering humbly salutacyon with dew reverance. I certyffy - yor mastershepp that I am now in Skotlonde in a lyttle - universite or study namyd Glasko, where I study and practyce - physyk as I have done in dyverse regyons and servyces for - the sustentacyon off my lyvyng, assewring you that in ye - parts that I am yn ye king's grace hath many hundred and in - manner all men of presence (except some skolastycall men) - that be hys adversarys. I resortt to ye Skotysh king's howse - and to ye erle of Aryn, namyd Hamylton, and to ye Lord - Evyndale, namyd Stuerd, and to many lords and lards as well - spyrytuall as temporal, and truly I know their mynds, for - they takyth me for a Skotysh man's sone, for I name my - selff Karre, and so ye Karres kallyth me cosyn, thorow ye - which I am in the more favor. Shortly to conclude; trust you - no Skott for they wyll yowse flatterying wordes and all ys - falshold. I suppose veryly that you have in Ynglond by - hundred and thowsand Skotts and innumerable other alyons, - which doth (specyally ye Skotts) much harme to the king's - leege men throw their evyll wordes, for as I went thorow - Ynglond I mett and was in company off many rurall felows, - Englishmen that love nott our gracyose kyng. Wold to Jesu - that some were ponyshed to geve others example. Wolde to - Jesu also that you had never an alyen in yor realme, - specyally Skotts, for I never knew alyen good for Ynglond - except they knew proffytt and lucre should come to them so. - In all parts of Chrystyndome that I have travylled in I know - nott V Englishmen inhabytants except only scholers for - learning. I pray to Jesu that alyens do in Ynglond no more - harme to Ynglonde, and yff I myght do Ynglonde any servyce, - specyally to my soveryn lord the kyng and to you, I would do - ytt to spend and putt my lyfe in danger and jeberdy as far - as any man. God be my judge. You have my hartt and shall be - sure of me to the uttermost of my pore power. for I am never - able to make you amends, for when I was in greatt thraldom, - both bodyly and goastly, you of yor gentylnes sett me att - liberte. Also I thank yor mastershepp for yor grett kyndnes - that you have shewed me att Bysshopps Waltham, and that you - gave me lycense to come to you ons in a qwarrtter. as sone - as I come home I intende to come to you to submytt my selff - to you to do with me what you wyll. for for lak of wytt - paradventter I may in this wrettyng say that shall nott - content you. but god be my judge I mene trewly both to my - sovereyngne lord the kyng and to you. when I was kept in - thrawldom in ye charterhouse and know neither ye kyngs noble - acts nor you, then stultycyusly throw synstrall wordes I dyd - as man of the others doth, butt after I was att lyberte - manyfestly I aparsevyd ye ignorance and blyndnes that they - and I wer yn. for I could never know no thynge of no maner - of matter butt only by them, and they wolde cawse me wrett - full incypyently to ye prior of London when he was in ye - tower before he was putt to exicuyon. for ye which I trustt - yor mastershepp hath pardonyd me, for god knoweth I was - keppt in prison straytly, and glad I was to wrett att theyr - request, but I wrott nothyng that I thought shold be agenst - my prince nor you nor no other man. I pray god that you may - provyde a good prior for that place of London, for truly - there be many wylfull and obstynatt yowng men that stondeth - to much in their owne consaytt and wyll nott be reformyd - butt playth ye chyldryn, and a good prior wolde so serve - them lyke chyldryn. News I have to wrett to you butt I - yntende to be with ou shortly. for I am half wery off this - baryn contry, as Jesu Chryst knowth, who ever keppe you in - helthe and honor. a myle from Edynborough, the fyrst day off - Apryll, by the hand of yor poer skoler and servantt,--Andrew - Boorde Preest." - -Literary physicians have, as a rule, not prospered as medical -practitioners. The public harbour towards them the same suspicious and -unfavourable prejudices as they do to literary barristers. A man, it -is presumed, cannot be a master of two trades at the same time, and -where he professes to carry on two it is usually concluded that he -understands neither. To display the injustice of such views is no part -of this writer's work, for the task is in better hands--time and -experience, who are yearly adding to the cases that support the -converse proposition that if a man is really a proficient in one -subject, the fact is of itself a reason for believing him a master of -a second. - -Still, the number of brilliant writers who have enrolled themselves in -the medical fraternity is remarkable. If they derived no benefit from -their order, they have at least generously conferred lustre upon it. -Goldsmith--though no one can say on what his claim to the title of -doctor rested, and though in his luckless attempts to get medical -employment he underwent even more humiliation and disgrace than fell -to his lot as the drudge of Mrs. Griffiths--is one of the most -pleasant associations that our countrymen have in connection with the -history of "the Faculty." Smollett, like Goldsmith, tried -ineffectually to escape from literary drudgery to the less irksome and -more profitable duties that surround the pestle and mortar. Of Garth, -Blackmore, Arbuthnot, and Akenside, notice has already been taken. - -Anything like a complete enumeration of medical men who have made -valuable contributions to _belles lettres_ would fill a volume, by the -writing of which very little good would be attained. By no means the -least of them was Armstrong, whose portrait Thomson introduced into -the "Castle of Indolence." - - "With him was sometimes joined in silken walk - (Profoundly silent--for they never spoke), - One shyer still, who quite detested talk; - If stung by spleen, at once away he broke - To grove of pine and broad o'ershadowing oak. - There, inly thrilled, he wandered all alone, - And on himself his pensive fury woke: - He never uttered word, save when first shone - The glittering star of eve--'Thank Heaven, the day is done.'" - -His medical writings, and his best known poem, "The Art of Health," -had he written nothing else, would in all probability have brought him -patients, but the licentiousness of "The Economy of Love" effectually -precluded him from ever succeeding as a family physician. Amongst -Armstrong's poet friends was Grainger, the amiable and scholarly -physician who enjoyed the esteem of Percy and Samuel Johnson, -Shenstone and Sir Joshua. Soon after the publication of his -translation of the "Elegies of Tibullus," (1758), Grainger went to the -island of St. Christopher's, and established himself there as a -physician. The scenery and industrial occupations of the island -inspired him to write his most important poem, "The Sugar-Cane," -which, in escaping such derision as was poured on Blackmore's -effusions, owed its good fortune to the personal popularity of the -author rather than its intrinsic merits. The following sample is a -fair one:-- - - "Destructive on the upland groves - The monkey nation preys: from rocky heights, - In silent parties they descend by night, - And posting watchful sentinels, to warn - When hostile steps approach, with gambols they - Pour o'er the cane-grove. Luckless he to whom - That land pertains! in evil hour, perhaps, - And thoughtless of to-morrow, on a die - He hazards millions; or, perhaps, reclines - On luxury's soft lap, the pest of wealth; - And, inconsiderate, deems his Indian crops - Will amply her insatiate wants supply. - - "From these insidious droles (peculiar pest - Of Liamigia's hills) would'st thou defen - Thy waving wealth, in traps put not thy trust, - However baited: treble every watch, - And well with arms provide them; faithful dogs, - Of nose sagacious, on their footsteps wait. - With these attack the predatory bands; - Quickly, th' unequal conflict they decline, - And chattering, fling their ill-got spoils away. - So when, of late, innumerous Gallic hosts, - Fierce, wanton, cruel, did by stealth invade - The peaceable American's domains, - While desolation mark'd their faithless rout; - No sooner Albion's martial sons advanc'd, - Than the gay dastards to their forests fled, - And left their spoils and tomahawks behind. - "_Nor with less haste the whisker'd vermin race, - A countless clan, despoil the low-land cane._ - "These to destroy, &c." - -When the poem was read in MS. at Sir Joshua's house, the lines printed -in italics were not part of the production, but in their place stood-- - - "Now, Muse, let's sing of _rats_." - -The immediate effect of such _bathos_ was a burst of inextinguishable -laughter from the auditors, whose sense of the ridiculous was by no -means quieted by the fact that one of the company, slyly overlooking -the reader, discovered that "the word had originally been _mice_, and -had been altered to _rats_, as more dignified." - -Above the crowd of minor medical _litterateurs_ are conspicuous, -Moore, the author of "Zeluco"; Dr. Aikin, one of whose many works has -been already referred to; Erasmus Darwin, author of "The Botanic -Garden"; Mason Good, the translator of "Lucretius," and author of the -"Study of Medicine"; Dr. Ferriar, whose "Illustrations of Sterne" just -doubled the value in the market of "Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy"; -Cogan, the author of "Life and Opinions of John Buncle, jun."; Dr. -Harrington, of Bath, editor of the "Nugae Antiquae"; Millingen, who -wrote "The Curiosities of Medical Practice," and "The History of -Duelling"; Dr. Paris, whose "Life of Sir Humphrey Davy," -unsatisfactory as it is in many places, is still a useful book, and -many of whose other writings will long remain of great value; Wadd, -the humourous collector of "Medical Ana"; Dr. Merriman, the late -contributor to the _Gentleman's Magazine_ and _Notes and Queries_; and -Pettigrew, the biographer of Lettsom. If the physicians and surgeons -still living, who have openly or anonymously written with good effect -on subjects not immediately connected with their profession, were -placed before the reader, there would be found amongst them many of -the most distinguished of their fraternity. - -_Apropos_ of the Dr. Harrington mentioned above, a writer says--"The -Doctor for many years attended the Dowager Lady Trevor, relict of Lord -Trevor, and last surviving daughter of Sir Richard Steele. He spoke of -this lady as possessing all the wit, humour, and gaiety of her father, -together with most of his faults. She was extravagant, and always in -debt; but she was generous, charitable, and humane. She was -particularly partial to young people, whom she frequently entertained -most liberally, and delighted them with the pleasantry and volubility -of her discourse. Her person was like that which her pleasant father -described himself in the _Spectator_, with his short face, &c. A -little before her death (which was in the month of December) she sent -for her doctor, and, on his entering her chamber, he said, 'How fares -your Ladyship!' She replied, 'Oh, my dear Doctor, ill fare! I am -going to break up before the holidays!' This agreeable lady lived many -years in Queen's Square, Bath, and, in the summer months, at St. Ann's -Hill, Surrey, the late residence of Rt. Hon. Chas. James Fox." - -Wolcot, better known as Peter Pindar, was a medical practitioner, his -father and many of his ancestors having followed the same calling in -Devonshire and Cornwall, under the names of Woolcot, Wolcott, -Woolacot, Walcot, or Wolcot. After acquiring a knowledge of his -profession in a somewhat irregular manner Wolcot found a patron in Sir -William Trelawny, Bart., of Trelawny, co. Cornwall, who, on going out -to assume the governorship of Jamaica, took the young surgeon with him -to act as medical officer to his household. In Jamaica Wolcot figured -in more characters than one. He was the governor's grand-master of the -ceremonies, private secretary, and chaplain. When the King of the -Mosquitoes waited on the new governor to express his loyal devotion to -the King of England's representative, Wolcot had to entertain the -royal guest--no difficult task as long as strong drink was in the way. - -His Majesty--an enormously stout black brute--regarded intoxication as -the condition of life most fit for kings. - - "Champagne the courtier drinks, the spleen to chase, - The colonel Burgundy, and port his Grace." - -The autocrat of the Mosquitoes, as the greatest only are, in his -simplicity sublime, was contented with rum or its equivalent. - -"Mo' drink for king! Mo' drink for king!" he would bellow, dancing -round the grand-master of the governor's household. - -"King," the grand-master would reply, "you are drunk already." - -"No, no; king no drunk. Mo' drink for king! Broder George" (_i. e._ -George III.) "love drink!" - -_Grand-Master._--"Broder George does not love drink: he is a sober -man." - -_Autocrat._--"But King of Musquito love drink. Me will have mo' drink. -Me love drink like devil. Me drink whole ocean!" - -The different meagre memoirs of Peter Pindar are conflicting as to -whether he ever received ordination from the hands of the Bishop of -London. It seems most probable that he never did. But, consecrated or -not, there is no doubt that he officiated as a colonial rector for -some time. Droll stories of him as a parish priest used to circulate -amongst his friends, as well as amongst his enemies. He read prayers -and preached whenever a congregation appeared in his church, but three -Sundays out of every four not a soul came to receive the benefit of -his ministrations. - -The rector was an admirable shot, and on his way from his house to -church used to amuse himself with shooting pigeons, his clerk--also an -excellent shot--walking behind with a fowling-piece in his hand, and -taking part in the sport. Having reached the sacred edifice, his -reverence and attendant opened the church door and waited in the porch -ten minutes for the advent of worshippers. If none had presented -themselves at the end of ten minutes, the pastor beat a retreat. If -only a few black Christians straggled up, the rector bought them off -with a few coins and then went home. One cunning old negro, who saw -that the parson's heart was more with the wild-fowl of the neighboring -bay than bent on the discharge of his priestly functions, after a -while presented himself every Sunday, when the following interview and -arrangement were regularly repeated:-- - -"What do you come here for, blackee?" the parson would exclaim. - -"Why, massa, to hear your good sermon and all de prayer ob de church." - -"Would not a _bit_ or two do you more good?" - -"Yes, massa doctor--me lub prayer much, but me lub money too." - -The "bit or two" would then be paid, and the devotee would retire -speedily from the scene. For an entire twelve-month was this -_black_-mail exacted. - -On his return to England, Wolcot, after a few unsuccessful attempts to -establish himself in practice, relinquished the profession of physic -as well as that of divinity, and, settling himself in London, made -both fame and a good income by his writings. As a political satirist -he was in his day almost without a rival, and the popularity of his -numerous works would have placed a prudent man in lasting affluence. -Improvidence, however, necessitated him to sell the copyright of his -works to Messrs. Robinson, Golding, and Walker for an annuity of L250, -payable half-yearly, during the remainder of his life. Loose -agreements have always been the fashion between authors and -publishers, and in the present case it was not clearly stated what -"copyright of his works" meant. The publishers interpreted it as the -copyright of both what the author had written at the time of making -the agreement, and also of what he should subsequently write. Wolcot, -however, declared that he had in the transaction only had regard to -his prior productions. After some litigation and more squabbling, the -publishers consented to take Wolcot's view of the case; but he never -forgave them the discomfort they had caused him. His rancour against -"the trade" increased with time, and inspired some of his most violent -and unjust verses:-- - - "Fired with the love of rhyme, and, let me say, - Or virtue, too, I sound the moral lay; - Much like St. Paul (who solemnly protests - He battled hard at Ephesus with beasts), - I've fought with lions, monkeys, bulls, and bears, - And got half Noah's ark about my ears; - Nay, more (which all the courts of justice know), - Fought with the brutes of Paternoster Row." - -For medicine Peter Pindar had even less respect than Garth had. He -used to say "that he did not like the practice of it as an art. He was -entirely ignorant, indeed, whether the patient was cured by the vis -_medicatrix naturae_, or the administration of a little pill, which was -either directly or indirectly to reach the part affected." And for the -practitioners of the art held in such low esteem, he cherished a -contempt that he would at times display with true Pindaric warmth. In -his two-act farce, "Physic and Delusion; or Jezebel and the Doctors," -the dialogue is carried on in the following strain:-- - - "_Blister._-- By God, old prig! - Another word, and by my wig---- - - "_Bolus._--Thy wig? Great accoucheur, well said, - 'Tis of more value than thy head; - And 'mongst thy customers--poor ninnies! - Has helped thee much to bag thy guineas." - -Amongst Peter Pindar's good services to the world was the protection -he afforded to Opie (or Oppy, as it was at one time less euphoniously -spelt and pronounced) the artist, when he was a poor country clown, -rising at three o'clock in the summer mornings, to pursue his art with -rude pieces of chalk and charcoal. Wolcot presented the boy with his -first pencils, colours, and canvas, and put him in the way to paint -portraits for the magnificent remuneration of half-a-guinea, and -subsequently a guinea a-head. And it was to the same judicious friend -that Opie, on leaving the provinces, owed his first success in London. - -Wolcot used to tell some droll stories about his artist friend. Opie's -indiscreet manner was a source of continual trouble to those who -endeavoured to serve him; for, priding himself on being "a rough -diamond," he took every pains that no one should fail to see the -roughness. A lady sitter was anxious that her portrait should be "very -handsome," and frankly told the painter so. "Then, madam," was the -reply, "you wish to be painted otherwise than you are. I see you do -not want your own face." Not less impudent was he at the close of his -first year in London, in taking out writs against several sitters who -were rather tardy in their payments. - -Opie was not the only artist of celebrity deeply indebted to Peter -Pindar. Bone, the painter in enamel, found an efficient friend in the -same discerning lover of the arts. In this respect Wolcot was worthy -of the profession which he deserted, and affected to despise; and his -name will ever be honourably mentioned amongst those physicians who -have fostered art, from the days of picture-loving Mead, down to those -of the writer's very kind friend, Dr. Diamond, who gathered from -remote quarters "The Diamond Collection of Portraits," which may be -seen amongst the art treasures of Oxford. - -One of the worthies of Dr. Diamond's family was Robertus Fludd, or De -Fluctibus, the writer of Rosicrucian celebrity who gave Sterne more -than one lesson in the arts of eccentricity. Sir Thomas Fludd of -Milgate, Bearsted, co. Kent (grandson of David Fludd, _alias_ Lloyd of -Morton, in Shropshire), had five sons and a daughter. Of this -offspring, one son, Thomas, purchased Gore Court, and fixed there a -family, the vicissitudes of which may be learnt by a reference to -Hasted's Kent. From this branch of the Fludds descended Dr. Diamond, -who, amongst other curious family relics, possesses the diploma of -Robertus de Fluctibus. - -When Robertus de Fluctibus died, Sept. 8, 1637, in Coleman St., -London, his body, under the protection of a herald of arms, was -conveyed to the family seat in Kent, and was then buried in Bearsted -Church, under a stone which he had before laid for himself. The -monument over his ashes was ordered by him in his last will to be made -after that of William Camden in the Abbey at Westminster. The -inscription which marks his resting-place declares his, rather than -our, estimate of his intellectual greatness; - - Magnificus non haec sub odoribus urna vaporat, - Crypta tegit cineres nec speciosa tuos. - Quod mortale minus, tibi te committimus unum; - Ingenii vivent hic monumenta tui - Nam tibi qui similis scribit, moriturque, sepulchrum - Pro tota aeternum posteritate facit. - -More modest, and at the same time more humorous, is the epitaph, in -Hendon Church, of poor Thomas Crossfield, whose name, alike as surgeon -and politician, has passed from among men:-- - - "Underneath Tom Crossfield lies, - Who cares not now who laughs or cries. - He always laughed, and when mellow - Was a harum scarum sort of fellow. - To none gave designed offence, - So--_Honi soit qui mal y pense_." - -Amongst the medical poets there is one whom all scholarly physicians -jealously claim as of their body--John Keats; he who, dying at Rome, -at the age of twenty-six, wished his epitaph to be, "Here lies one -whose name was writ in water." After serving his apprenticeship under -an Edmonton surgeon, the author of "Endymion" became a medical student -at St. Thomas's hospital. - -Mention here, too, may be made of Dr. Macnish, the author of "The -Anatomy of Drunkenness," and "The Modern Pythagorean"; and of Dr. -Moir, the poet, whose death, a few years since, robbed the world of a -simple and pathetic writer, and his personal acquaintance of a -noble-hearted friend. - -But of all modern English poets who have had an intimate personal -connection with the medical profession, the greatest by far is -Crabbe-- - - "Nature's sternest painter, yet the best." - -In 1754 George Crabbe was born in the old sea-faring town of -Aldborough, in the county of Suffolk. His father, the collector of -salt-duties, or salt-master of the town, was a churlish sullen fellow -at the best of times; but, falling upon adversity in his old days, he -became the _beau-ideal_ of a domestic tyrant. He was not, however, -without his respectable points. Though a poor man, he did his best to -educate his children above the ranks of the very poor. One of them -became a thriving glazier in his native town; another went to sea, and -became captain of a Liverpool slave-ship; and a third, also a sailor, -met with strange vicissitudes--at one time enjoying a very -considerable amount of prosperity, and then suffering penury and -persecution. A studious and a delicate lad, George, the eldest of the -party, was designed for some pursuit more adapted to his disposition -and physical powers than the avocations of working mechanics, or the -hard duties of the marine service. When quite a child, he had, amongst -the inhabitants of Aldborough, a reputation for mental superiority -that often did him good service. On one occasion he chanced to offend -a playmate--his senior and "master," as boys and savages term it--and -was on the point of receiving a good thrashing nigh the roaring waves -of old ocean, when a third boy, a common acquaintance, exclaimed in a -voice of affright:-- - -"Yar marn't middle a' him; lit him aloone--he ha' got l'arning." - -The plea was admitted as a good one, and the future bard, taking his -benefit of clergy, escaped the profanation of a drubbing. - -George was sent to two respectable schools, the one at Bungay, in -Suffolk, and the other (the better of the two) at Stowmarket, in the -same county. The expense of such an education, even if it amounted to -no more than L20 per annum, was no small undertaking for the -salt-master of a fishing-village; for Aldborough--now a handsome and -much frequented provincial watering-place--was in 1750 nothing better -than a collection of huts, whose humble inhabitants possessed little -stake in the commonweal beyond the right of sending to parliament two -members to represent their interests and opinions. On leaving school, -in his fourteenth year, George was apprenticed to a country doctor of -a very rough sort, who plied his trade at Wickham Brook, a small -village near Bury St. Edmunds. It is a fact worthy of note, as -throwing some light on the state of the profession in the provinces, -that the apprentice shared the bed of his master's stable-boy. At -Wickham Brook, however, the lad did not remain long to endure such -indignity. He was removed from that scene of trial, and placed under -the tutelage of Mr. Page, a surgeon of Woodbridge, a gentleman of good -connections and polite tastes, and through the marriage of his -daughter with the late famous Alderman Wood, an ancestor of a learned -judge, who is not more eminent as a lawyer than beloved as a man. - -It was during his apprenticeship to Mr. Page of Woodbridge that Crabbe -made his first important efforts in poetry, publishing, in the year -1772, some fugitive pieces in _Wheble's Magazine_, and in 1775 -"Inebriety, a poem, in three parts. Ipswich: printed and sold by C. -Punchard, bookseller, in the Butter-market." While at Woodbridge, too, -his friend Levett, a young surgeon of the neighborhood, took him over -to Framlingham, introducing him to the families of that picturesque -old town. William Springall Levett was at that time engaged to Alethea -Brereton, a lady who, under the _nom de plume_ of "Eugenia Acton," -wrote certain novels that created a sensation in their brief day. -Amongst them were "Vicissitudes of Genteel Life," "The Microcosm," -and "A Tale without a Title." The love-making of Mr. Levett and Miss -Eugenia de Acton was put a stop to by the death of the former, in -1774. The following epitaph, transcribed from the History of -Framlingham, the work of the able antiquarian, Mr. Richard Green, is -interesting as one of Crabbe's earlier compositions. - - "What! though no trophies peer above his dust, - Nor sculptured conquests deck his sober bust; - What! though no earthly thunders sound his name, - Death gives him conquest, and our sorrows fame! - One sigh reflection heaves, but shuns excess, - More should we mourn him, did we love him less." - -Subsequently Miss Brereton married a gentleman named Lewis, engaged in -extensive agricultural operations. However brief her literary -reputation may have been, her pen did her good service; for, at a -critical period of her husband's career, it brought her sums of -much-needed money. - -Mr. Levett's romance closed prematurely together with his life, but -through him Crabbe first became acquainted with the lovely girl whom -he loved through years of trial, and eventually made his wife. Sarah -Elmy was the niece of John Tovell, _yeoman_, not _gentleman_--he would -have scorned the title. Not that the worthy man was without pride of -divers kinds, or that he did not hold himself to be a gentleman. He -believed in the Tovells as being one of the most distinguished -families of the country. A Tovell, by mere right of being a Tovell, -could thrash more Frenchmen than any Englishman, not a Tovell, could. -When the good man said, "I am nothing more than a plain yeoman," he -never intended or expected any one to believe him, or to regard his -words in any other light than as a playful protest against being -deemed "a plain yeoman," or that modern hybrid, "a gentleman farmer." - -He was a well-made, handsome, pleasant fellow--riding a good horse -with the hounds--loving good cheer--enjoying laughter, without being -very particular as to the cause of it--a little too much addicted to -carousing, but withal an agreeable and useful citizen; and he lived at -Parham Lodge, a house that a peer inhabited after him, without making -any important alterations in the place. - -On Crabbe's first introduction to Parham Lodge he was received with -cordiality; but when it was seen that he had fallen in love with the -squire's niece, it was only natural that "his presumption" should not -at first meet the approval either of Mrs. Tovell or her husband. But -the young people plighted troth to each other, and the engagement was -recognized by the lady's family. It was years, however, before the -wedding bells were set ringing. Crabbe's apprenticeship to Mr. Page -finished, he tried ineffectually to raise the funds for a regular -course of hospital instruction in London. Returning to Aldborough, he -furnished a shop with a few bottles and a pound's worth of drugs, and -set up as "an apothecary." Of course it was only amongst the poor of -his native town that he obtained patients, the wealthier inhabitants -of the borough distrusting the knowledge of a doctor who had not -walked the hospitals. In the summer of 1778, however, he was appointed -surgeon to the Warwickshire militia, then stationed at Aldborough, and -in the following winter, on the Warwickshire militia being moved and -replaced by the Norfolk militia, he was appointed surgeon to the -latter regiment also. But these posts were only temporary, and -conferred but little emolument on their holder. At length poverty -drove the poet from his native town. The rest of his career is matter -of notoriety. Every reader knows how the young man went to London and -only escaped the death of Otway or Chatterton by the generous -patronage of Burke, how through Burke's assistance he was ordained, -became the Duke of Rutland's chaplain, obtained comfortable church -preferment, and for a long span enjoyed an amount of domestic -happiness that was as great and richly deserved as his literary -reputation. - -Crabbe's marriage with Sarah Elmy eventually conferred on him and his -children the possession of Parham Lodge, which estate, a few years -since, passed from them into the hands of wealthy purchasers. The poet -also succeeded to other wealth through the same connection, an -old-maid sister of John Tovell leaving him a considerable sum of -money. "I can screw Crabbe up and down like an old fiddle," this -amiable lady was fond of saying; and during her life she proved that -her boast was no empty one. But her will was a handsome apology for -all her little tiffs. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - -NUMBER ELEVEN--A HOSPITAL STORY. - - -"Then, sir," said Mrs. Mallet, "if you'll only not look so frightened, -I'll tell you how it was. It is now twenty years ago that I was very -unfortunate. I was not more than thirty years of age, but I was old -enough to have just lost a good husband and a dear little babe; and -then, when I hadn't a sixpence in my pocket, I caught the fever, and -had to go to a hospital. I wasn't used to trouble; for although I was -nothing better than a poor man's child, I had known all my life -nothing but kindness. I never had but one mistress,--my lady, who when -she was the most beautiful young lady in all Devonshire, took me out -of a village school, and raised me to be her maid; and her maid I was -for twelve years--first down in Devonshire, and afterwards up in -London, when she married (somewhat against the will of her family) a -thorough good gentleman, but a poor one, who after a time took her out -to India, where he became a judge, and she a grand lady. My dear -mistress would have taken me out to India with her, only she was then -too poor to pay for my passage out, and bear the expense of me there, -where labour can be got so cheap, and native servants can live on a -handful of rice a day. She, sir, is Lady Burridge--the same who gave -me the money to start in this house with, and whose carriage you saw -yesterday at my door. - -"So my mistress went eastward, and I was left behind to marry a young -man I had loved for some few years, and who had served during that -time as clerk to my lady's husband. I was a young woman, and young -women, to the end of the chapter, will think it a brave thing to fall -in love. I thought my sweetheart was a handsomer and cleverer man than -any other of his station in all London. I wonder how many girls have -thought the same of their favourites! I went to church one morning -with a fluttering heart and trembling knees, and came out under the -porch thinking that all my life would ever afterwards be brighter, and -lighter, and sunnier than it had been before. Well! in dancing into -that pretty blunder, I wasn't a bigger fool than lots of others. - -"And if a good husband is a great blessing (and she must be a paltry -woman who can say nay to that), I was born to luck; for my husband was -kind, good, and true--his temper was as sweet at home as his manners -were abroad--he was hard-working and clever, sober and devout; -and--though you may laugh at a woman of my age talking so like a -romance--I tell you, sir, that if my life had to come all over again, -I'd rather have the mischance of marrying my dear Richard, that the -good fortune of wedding a luckier man. - -"There's no doubt the game turned out ill for me. At first it seemed -as if it would be just otherwise, for my husband had good health, -plenty of work, and sufficient pay; so that, when my little girl came, -her sweet face brought no shadow of anxiety with it, and we hoped she -would be followed in due course by half-a-dozen more. But ere the dear -babe had learned to prattle, a drear change came over the happy -prospect. The fever crept over the gentle darling, and after she had -suffered for a week or more, lying on my arms, God raised her from me -into his happy home, where the beauty of summer reigns for ever, and -the coldness of winter never enters. Richard and I took the body of -our babe to the burial-ground, and saw it covered up in the earth -which by turns gives all we get, and takes away from us all we have; -and as we walked back to our deserted home, arm-in-arm, in the light -of the summer's evening, we talked to each other more solemnly and -tenderly than we had done for many a day. And the next morning he went -back to his work in the office, from which he had absented himself -since our child's death; and I encouraged him to cheer up, and not to -give way to sorrow when I was not nigh to comfort him, but toil -bravely and hopefully, as a man should; and in so advising him, I do -not blush to say that I thought not only of what was best for his -spirits, but also of what our necessity required--for we were only -poor people, not at any time beforehand in the world, and now reduced -by the cost of our little one's illness and funeral; and, sir, in this -hard world we women, most times, have the best of it, for when the -house is full of sorrow, we have little else to do but weep, but the -men have to grieve and toil too. - -"But poor Richard could not hold up his head. He came back from work -that day pale and faint, and in the evening he had a chill and a -heat-fit, that let me know the fever which had killed our little one -had passed into him. The next day he could not leave his bed, and the -doctor (a most kind man, who was always making rough jokes in a rough -voice--just to hide his womanliness) said to me, 'If your husband goes -down to his master's chambers in the Temple to-day, he had better stop -at the coffin-maker's, in the corner of Chancery Lane, and leave his -measure.' But Richard's case was not one for a jest, and he rapidly -became worse than the doctor fancied he would be when he made that -light speech. He was ill for six weeks, and then began slowly to mend; -he got on so far as to sit up for two days for half-an-hour while he -had his tea, and we were hoping that soon he would be able to be moved -into the country--to my sister's, whose husband was an engineer at -Stratford; but, suddenly, he had a relapse, and on the morning that -finished the tenth week from his being seized, his arms let go their -hold on my neck--and I was left alone! - -"All during my babe's and Richard's long illness my sister Martha had -behaved like a true sister to me. She was my only sister, and, to the -best of my knowledge, the only relation I had in the world--and a good -one she was; from girl to woman her heart always rung out clear like a -bell. She had three young children, but even fear of contagion -reaching them could not keep her from me in my trouble. She kept -making the journey backwards and forwards, at least once a week, in -the carrier's cart; and, though she had no money to spare, she -brought me, with her husband's blessing, presents of wine, and -jellies, and delicate meat, to buy which, I knew right well, she and -her husband and her children must have pinched themselves down to -scanty rations of bread and water. Her hands helped mine to put the -flowers in poor Richard's coffin; she bore me up while I followed it, -pale and trembling, to the grave; and when that horrible day was -coming to an end, and she was about to return home, she took me into -her arms, and covering me with kisses and caressings, and a thousand -gentle sayings, as if I had been a child of her own, instead of her -sister and a grown woman, she made me promise to come down to her at -Stratford at the end of the week, and stay with her till God should -give me strength and spirits and guidance, to work for myself again. - -"But that promise was not kept. Next morning the rough-tender doctor -came in, out of his mere goodness, to give me a friendly look, and a -'God speed you,' and found me, too, sickening for an illness. I knew, -sir, he had made the discovery before his lips confessed a word; for -when he had taken my wrist and felt my pulse, and looked up into my -worn face, he turned pale, as if almost frightened, and such a look of -grief came on his eyes and lips that he could not have said plainer, -'My poor woman! my poor woman! what I feared from the beginning, and -prayed God not to permit, has come to pass at last.' - -"Then I fairly broke down and cried bitterly; and I told the doctor -how sore afflicted I was--how God had taken my husband and babe from -me--how all my little means had been consumed in the expenses of -nursing--how the little furniture in my rooms would not pay half what -I owed to honest folk--and how, even in my unspeakable wretchedness, I -could not ask the Almighty to take away my life, for I could not rest -in death if I left the world without paying my just debts. Well, sir, -the doctor sate down by me, and said, in his softest and simplest -way:-- - -"'Come, come, neighbour, don't you frighten yourself. Be calm, and -listen to me. Don't let the thought of debts worry you. What little I -have done in the way of business for your poor child and husband I -never wish to be paid for--so there's your greatest creditor disposed -of. As for the others, they won't trouble you, for I'll undertake to -see that none of them shall think that you have wronged 'em. I wish I -could do more, neighbor; but I ain't a rich man, and I have got a wife -and a regiment of little ones at home, who won't help, in the long -run, to make me richer--although I am sure they'll make me happier. -But now for yourself; you must go to the fever-hospital, to have your -illness out; the physician who'll take care of you there is the -cleverest in all London; and, as he is an old friend of mine, I can -ask him to pay especial attention to you. You'll find it a pleasant, -cheerful place, much more cool and comfortable than your rooms here; -the nurses are all of them good people; and while lying on your bed -there you won't have to fret yourself with thinking how you are to pay -for the doctors, and medicine, and kitchen physic.' - -"I was only too thankful to assent to all the doctor said; and -forthwith he fetched a coach, put me into it, and took me off to the -fever-hospital, to which his influence procured me instant -admittance. Without delay I was conveyed to a large and comfortable -bed, which, with another similar bed parallel to it, was placed -against the wall at the end of a long gallery, containing twenty other -beds. The first day of my hospital life I spent tranquilly enough; the -languor of extreme exhaustion had soothed me, and my malady had not -robbed me of my senses. So I lay calmly on my couch and watched all -the proceedings and arrangements of the great bed-room. I noticed how -clean and white all the beds looked, and what kindly women the nurses -were; I remarked what a wide space there was down the middle of the -room between the two rows of beds, and again what large intervals -there were between the beds on each side; I observed, too, that over -every bed there was a ventilator set in the wall, and beneath the -ventilator a board, on which was pinned a paper, bearing, in a -filled-up printed form, the number of the bed to which it belonged, -the date when the occupant was admitted to the ward, the names of the -physician and nurse under whose charge she was, the medicine she was -taking, and the diet on which she was put. It made me smile, moreover, -to note how the nurses, when giving physic or nourishment, or -otherwise attending to their charges, would frequently address them by -the numbers on their boards, instead of their names. - -"'Nurse, dear,' I asked, with a smile, when my attendant came near me, -'what's my name?' - -"'Oh, dear!' said she, looking up at the board which had already been -fixed over my head, 'your name is Number Eleven.' - -"It would be hard for me to give you, sir, any notion of how these -words, _Number Eleven_, took possession of my mind. This was the more -strange, because the nurse did not usually call me by them; for she -was a motherly creature, and almost always addressed me as 'poor -dear,' or 'poor child'; and the doctors who had the charge of me spoke -to me as 'friend,' or 'old friend,' or 'neighbor.' But all the same -for that, I always thought of myself as Number Eleven; and ere many -days, if any one had asked me what my name was, I could not for the -life of me have remembered Abigail Mallet, but should have answered -Number Eleven. The patient in the next bed to me was Number -Twenty-two; she was, like myself, a poor woman who had just lost a -husband and child by the fever, and both of us were much struck, and -then drawn to each other, by discovering how we had suffered alike. We -often interchanged a few words during the sorrowful hours of the long, -hot nights, but our whisperings always turned on the same subject. -'Number Eleven,' I used to hear her poor thin lips murmur, 'are you -thinking of your baby, dear?' 'To be sure, darling,' I would answer; -'I am awake, and when I am awake, I am always thinking of her.' Then -most times she would inquire, 'Number Eleven, dear, which do you think -of most--the little one or her father?' Whereto I would reply, 'I -think of both alike, dear, for whenever I look at her, a fair young -angel in heaven--she seems to be lying in her father's arms.' And -after we had conversed so, No. 22 would be quiet for a few minutes; -and often, in the silence of the night, I could at such times hear -that which informed me the poor woman was weeping to herself--in such -a way that she was happier for her tears. - -"But my malady progressed unfavourably. Each succeeding night was -worse to endure; and the morning light, instead of bringing -refreshment and hope, only gave to me a dull, gloomy consciousness -that I had passed hours in delirium, and that I was weaker and heavier -in heart, and more unlikely than ever to hold my head up again. They -cut all the hair off my head, and put blisters at the back of my neck; -but the awful weight of sorrow and the gnawing heat kept on my brain -all the same. I could no longer amuse myself with looking at what went -on in the ward; I lost all care for the poor woman who lay in the next -bed; and soon I tossed to and fro, and heeded nothing of the outer -world except the burning, and aching, and thirst, and sleeplessness -that encased me. - -"One morning I opened my eyes and saw the doctor standing between me -and No. 22, talking to the nurse. A fit of clearness passed over my -understanding, such as people suffering under fever often experience -for a few seconds, and I heard the physician say softly to the nurses, -'We must be careful and do our best, sister, and leave the rest to -God. They are both very ill; this is now the fourth day since either -of them recognized me. They must have more wine and brandy to help -them through. Here, give me their boards.' On this, the nurse took -down the boards, and handed them, one after the other, to the -physician, and he, taking a pen from a clerk, who always attended him, -wrote his directions on the papers, and handed them back to the nurse. -Having heard and seen all this, I shifted in my bed, and after a few -weak efforts to ponder on my terrible condition, and how awful a thing -it is to die, I fell back into my former state of delirium and -half-consciousness. - -"The next distinct memory I have of my illness was when I opened my -eyes and beheld a wooden screen standing between me and the next bed. -My head felt as if it had been put into a closely fitting cap of ice; -but apart from this strange sensation, I was free from pain. My body -was easy, and my mind was tranquil. My nurse was standing at the foot -of my bed, looking towards me with an expression of solemn tenderness; -and by her side was another woman--as I afterwards found out, a new -nurse, unaccustomed to the ways of the hospital. - -"'What is that screen there for?' asked the novice. - -"My nurse lowered her voice, and answered slowly, 'Number Eleven, poor -soul, is dying; she'll be dead in half an hour; and the screen is -there so that Number Twenty-Two mayn't see her.' - -"'Poor soul!' said the novice, 'may God have mercy upon her!' - -"They spoke scarcely above a whisper, but I heard them distinctly; and -a solemn gladness, such as I used to feel, when I was a young girl, at -the sound of church music, came over me at learning that I was to die. -Only half an hour, and I should be with baby and Richard in heaven! -Mixed with this thought, too, there was a pleasant memory of those I -had loved and who had loved me--of sister Martha and her husband and -children, of the doctor who had been so good to me and brought me to -the hospital, of my lady in India, of many others; and I silently -prayed the Almighty with my dying heart to protect and bless them. -Then passed through me a fluttering of strange, soft fancies, and it -was revealed to me that I was dead. - -"By-and-by the physician came his round of the ward, stepping lightly, -pausing at each bed, speaking softly to nurses and patients, and, -without knowing it, making many a poor woman entertain kinder thoughts -than she had ever meant to cherish of the wealthy and gentle. When he -came to the end of the ward, his handsome face wore a pitiful air, and -it was more by the movement of his lips than by the sound of his mouth -that I knew what passed from him to the nurse. - -"'Well, sister, well,' he said, 'she sleeps quietly at last. Poor -thing! I hope and believe the next life will be a fairer one for her -than this has been.' - -"'Her sister has been written to,' observed the nurse. - -"'Quite right; and how is the other?' - -"'Oh, No. 22 is just the same--quite still, not moving at all, -scarcely breathing, sir!' - -"'Um!--you must persevere. Possibly she'll pull through. Good-bye, -sister.' - -"Late in the evening my sister Martha came. She was dressed in black, -and led with her hand Rhoda, her eldest daughter. Poor Martha was very -pale, and worn, and ill; when she approached the bed on which I lay, -she seemed as if she would faint, and she trembled so painfully that -my kind nurse led her behind the screen, so that she might recover -herself out of my sight. After a few seconds--say two minutes--she -stood again at the foot of my bed--calmer, but with tears in her eyes, -and such a mournful loveliness in her sweet face as I had never seen -before. - -"'I shouldn't have known her, nurse,' she said, gazing at me for a -short space and then withdrawing her eyes--'she is so much altered.' - -"'Ah, dear!' answered the nurse, 'sickness alters people much--and -death more.' - -"'I know it, nurse--I know it. And she looks very calm and -blissful--her face is so full of rest--so full of rest!' - -"The nurse fetched some seats, and made Martha and Rhoda sit down side -by side; and then the good woman stood by them, ready to afford them -all comfort in her power. - -"'How did she bear her illness?' inquired Martha. - -"'Like an angel, dear,' answered the nurse. 'She had a sweet, -grateful, loving temper. Whatever I did for her, even though my duty -compelled me to give her pain, she was never fretful, but always -concealed her anguish and said, "Thank you, dear, thank you, you are -very good; God will reward you for all your goodness"; and as the end -came nigher I often fancied that she had reasonable and happy moments, -for she would fold her hands together, and say scraps of prayers which -children are taught.' - -"'Nurse,' replied my sister after a pause, 'she and I were the only -children of our father, and we were left orphans very young. She was -two years older than I, and she always thought for me and did for me -as if she had been my mother. I could fill whole hours with telling -you all the goodness and forbearance and love she displayed to me, -from the time I was little or no bigger than my child here. I was -often wayward and peevish, and gave her many hours of trouble, but -though at times she could be hot to others she never spoke an unkind -word to me. There was no sacrifice that she would not have made for -me; but all the return I ever made was to worry her with my evil -jealous temper. I was continually imagining unchristian things against -her: that she slighted me; that, because she had a mistress who made -much of her, she didn't care for me; that she didn't think my children -fit to be proud of. And I couldn't keep all these foolish thoughts in -my head to myself, but I must needs go and speak them out to her, and -irritate her to quarrel with me. But she always returned smooth words -to my angry ones, and I had never a fit of my unjust temper but she -charmed me out of it, and showed me my error in such a way that I was -reproved, without too much humiliation, and loved her more than ever. -Oh! dear friend, dear good nurse, if you have a sister, don't treat -her, as I did Abigail, with suspicion and wicked passion; for should -you, all the light speeches of your frowardness will return to you, -and lie heavy on your heart when hers shall beat no more.' - -"When Martha had said this she cried very bitterly; and as I lay dead -on my bed, and listened to her unfair self-reproaches, I longed to -break the icy bonds that held me, and yearned to clasp her to my -breast. Still, though I could neither move nor utter a sound, it -thrilled me with gladness to see how she loved me. - -"'Mother,' said little Rhoda, softly, 'don't cry. We shan't be long -away from Aunt and her baby, for when this life is done we shall go -to them. You know, mother, you told me so last night.' - -"It was not permitted to me to hear any more. A colder chill came over -my brain--and, wrapt in unconsciousness and deep stillness, I lay upon -my bed. - -"My next recollection is of beholding the gray dawn stream in through -the half-opened windows, and of wondering, amid vague reminiscences of -my previous sensations, how it was that a dead person could take -notice of the world it moved in when alive. It is not enough to say -that my experience of the last repose was pleasant to me; I was -rejoiced and greatly delighted by it. Death, it seemed then, was no -state of cold decay for men to shudder at with affright--but a -condition of tranquility and mental comfort. I continued to muse on -this remarkable discovery for an hour and more, when my favourite -nurse reappeared to relieve the woman who had taken the night-watch, -and approached me. - -"'Ah!' she surprised me by saying, as a smile of congratulation -lighted her face, 'then you are alive this morning, dear, and have -your handsome eyes wide open.' - -"This in my opinion was a singularly strange and inappropriate -address; but I made no attempt to respond to it, for I knew that I was -dead. and that the dead do not speak. - -"'Why, dear heart,' resumed the nurse, kneeling by my side and kissing -me, 'can't you find your tongue? I know by your eyes that you know me; -the glassy stare has left them. Come, do say a word, and say you are -better.' - -"Then a suspicion flashed across my brain, and raising my right hand -slightly, I pointed to the bed of No. 22, and asked, 'How is she?--how -is she?' - -"'Don't frighten yourself, dear,' answered the nurse, 'she isn't -there. She has been moved. She doesn't have that bed my longer!' - -"'Then it is _she_ who is dead, nurse; and all the rest was a dream? -It is she who is dead?' - -"'Hush, hush, dear! she has gone to rest--' - -"Yes! it was all clear to me. Not I but my unfortunate companion had -died; and in my delirious fancy I had regarded the friends who came to -see her, and convey her to the grave, as my sister Martha and her -little daughter Rhoda. I did not impart to the nurse the delusion of -which I had been the victim; for, as is often the case with the sick, -I was sensitive with regard to the extreme mental sickness into which -I had fallen, and the vagaries of my reason. So I kept my secret to -the best of my power; and having recognised how much better I was, how -the fever had quitted my veins and the weight had left my head, I -thanked God in my heart for all his mercies, and once more cherished a -hope that he might see fit to restore me to health. - -"My recovery was rapid. At the end of a fortnight I was moved into the -convalescents' ward, and was fed up with wine and meat in abundance. I -had every reason to be thankful for all the kindness bestowed on me in -the hospital, and all the good effect God permitted that kindness to -have. But one thing troubled me very much and cut me to the quick. -Ever since I had been in the hospital my sister had neither been to -see me, nor sent to inquire after me. It was no very difficult -business to account for her neglect of me. She had her good qualities -(even in the height of my anger I could not deny that), but she was of -a very proud high temper. She could sacrifice anything but her pride -for love of me. I had gone into an hospital, had received public -charity, and she hadn't courage to acknowledge a sister who had sunk -so low as that! But if she was proud so was I; I could be as high and -haughty as she; and, what was more, I would show her that I could be -so! What, to leave her own sister--her only sister--who had worked for -her when she was little, and who had loved her as her own heart! I -would resent it! Perhaps fortune might yet have a turn to make in my -favour; and if so I would in my prosperity remember how I had been -treated in my adversity. I am filled with shame now, when I think on -the revengeful imaginations which followed each other through my -breast. I am thankful that when my animosity was at its height my -sister did not present herself before me; for had she done so, I fear -that, without waiting for an explanation from her, I should have -spoken hasty words that (however much I might have afterwards repented -them, and she forgiven them) would have rendered it impossible for us -to be again the same as we were before. I never mentioned to any -one--nurse or patient--in the convalescent ward, the secret of my -clouded brows, or let out that I had a friend in the world to think of -me or to neglect me. Hour after hour I listened to women and girls and -young children, talking of home pleasures and longing to be quite -well, and dismissed from the confinement of the hospital, and -anticipating the pleasure which their husbands, or mothers, or -sisters, or children, would express at welcoming them again; but I -never gave a word of such gossip; I only hearkened, and compared their -hopes with my desolation, morosely and vindictively. Before I was -declared perfectly restored I got very tired of my imprisonment; -indeed the whole time I was in the convalescent ward my life was -wearisome, and without any of the pleasures which the first days of my -sickness had had. There was only one inmate of the ward to which I was -at first admitted, as yet, amongst the convalescents; none of them -knew me, unless it was by my number--a new one now, for on changing my -ward I had changed my number also. The nurses I didn't like so well as -my first kind attendant; and I couldn't feel charitably, or in any way -as a Christian ought to feel, to the poor people by whom I was -surrounded. - -"At length the day came for my discharge. The matron inquired of me -where I was going; but I would not tell her; I would not acknowledge -that I had a sister--partly out of mere perverseness, and partly out -of an angry sense of honour; for I was a country-bred woman, and -attached to the thought of 'going into a hospital' a certain idea of -shame and degradation, such as country people attach to 'going on the -parish', and I was too proud to let folk know that my sister had a -sister in an hospital, when she clearly flinched from having as much -said of her. - -"Well, finding I was not in a communicative humour, the matron asked -no more questions; but, giving me a bundle containing a few articles -of wearing apparel, and a small donation of money, bade me farewell; -and without saying half as much in the way of gratitude as I ought to -have said, I walked out from the hospital garden into the wide streets -of London. I did not go straight to my old lodgings, or to the house -of the doctor who had been so kind to me; but I directed my steps to -an inn in Holborn, and took a place in the stage-cart for Stratford. -As I rode slowly to my sister's town I thought within myself how I -should treat her. Somehow my heart had softened a great deal towards -her during the few last days; a good spirit within me had set me -thinking of how she had helped me to nurse my husband and baby--how -she had accompanied me when I followed them to their graves--how she -and her husband had sacrificed themselves so much to assist me in my -trial; and the recollection of these kindnesses and proofs of sisterly -love, I am thankful to know, made me judge Martha much less harshly. -Yes! yes! I would forgive her! She had never offended me before! She -had not wronged me seven times, or seventy times seven, but only -_once_! After all, how much she had done for me! Who was I, that I -should forget all that she had done, and judge her only by what she -had left undone? - -"The stage-cart reached Stratford as the afternoon began to close into -evening; and when I alighted from it, I started off at a brisk pace, -and walked to my sister's cottage that stood on the outskirts of the -town. Strange to say, as I got nearer and nearer to her door my angry -feelings became fainter and fainter, and all my loving memories of her -strong affection for me worked so in me that my knees trembled beneath -me, and my eyes were blinded with tears--though, if I had trusted my -deceitful, wicked, malicious tongue to speak, I should still have -declared she was a bad, heartless, worthless, sister. - -"I reached the threshold, and paused on the step before it, just to -get my breath and to collect as much courage and presence of mind as -would let Martha know that, though I forgave her, I still was fully -aware she might have acted more nobly. When I knocked, after a few -seconds, little Rhoda's steps pattered down the passage, and opened -the door. Why, the child was in black! What did that mean? Had -anything happened to Martha or her husband, or little Tommy? But -before I could put the question Rhoda turned deadly white, and ran -back into the living-room. In another instant I heard Tommy screaming -at the top of his voice; and in a trice I was in the room, with -Martha's arms flung round my neck, and her dear blessed eyes covering -me with tears. - -"She was very ill in appearance; white and haggard, and, like Rhoda -and Tommy, she too was dressed in black. For some minutes she could -not speak a word for sobbing hysterically; but when at last I had -quieted her and kissed Rhoda, and cossetted Tommy till he had left off -screaming, I learnt that the mourning Martha and her children wore was -in my honour. Sure enough Martha had received a notice from the -hospital of my death; and she and Rhoda had not only presented -themselves at the hospital, and seen there a dead body which they -believed to be mine, but they had also, with considerable expense, and -much more loving care, had it interred in the Stratford churchyard, -under the impression that in so doing they were offering me the last -respect which it would be in their power to render me. The worst of -it was that poor Martha had pined and sorrowed so for me that she -seemed likely to fall into some severe illness. - -"On inquiry it appeared that the morning when I and No. 22 were so -much worse, and the doctor altered the directions of our boards, the -nurse by mistake put the No. 22 board over my bed, and my board (No. -11) over the bed of the poor woman who had died. The consequence was -that, when the hospital clerk was informed that No. 11 had died, he -wrote to the doctor who placed me in the hospital, informing him of my -death, and the doctor communicated the sad intelligence to my sister. - -"The rest of the story you can fill up, sir, for yourself, and without -my assistance you can imagine how it was that, while in a state of -extreme exhaustion, and deeming myself dead, I heard my sister, in a -strong agony of sorrow and self-reproach, say to my nurse, 'Oh, dear -friend--dear good nurse--if you have a sister, don't treat her, as I -did Abigail, with suspicion and wicked passion; for should you, all -the light speeches of your frowardness will return to you, and lie -heavy on your heart when hers shall beat no more.'" - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - -MEDICAL BUILDINGS. - - -The medical buildings of London are seldom or never visited by the -sight-seers of the metropolis. Though the science and art of nursing -have recently been made sources of amusement to the patrons of -circulating libraries, the good sense and delicacy of the age are -against converting the wards of an hospital into galleries for public -amusement. In the last century the reverse was the case. Fashionable -idlers were not indeed anxious to pry into the mysteries of -Bartholomew's, Guy's, and St. Thomas's hospitals; for a visit to those -magnificent institutions was associated in their minds with a risk of -catching fevers or the disfiguring small-pox. But Bethlehem, devoted -to the entertainment and cure of the insane, was a favourite haunt -with all classes. "Pepys," "The London Spy," "The Tatler," and "The -Rake's Progress," give us vivid pictures of a noisy rout of Pall Mall -beaus and belles, country fly-catchers, and London scamps, passing up -and down the corridors of the great asylum, mocking its unhappy -inmates with brutal jests, or investigating and gossiping about their -delusions and extravagances with unfeeling curiosity. Samuel Johnson -enlivened himself with an occasional stroll amongst the lunatics, just -as he periodically indulged himself with witnessing a hanging, a -judicial flogging, or any other of the pleasant spectacles with which -Hogarth's London abounded. Boswell and he once strolled through the -mansions of the insane; and on another occasion, when he visited the -same abode with Murphy, Foote, and Wedderburne (afterwards Lord -Loughborough), the philosopher's "attention was arrested by a man who -was very furious, and who, while beating his straw, supposed it was -William, Duke of Cumberland, whom he was punishing for his cruelties -in Scotland in 1746." Steele, when he took three schoolboys (imagine -the glee of Sir Richard's schoolboy friends out with him for a frolic) -in a hackney coach to show them the town, paid his respects to "the -lions, the tombs, Bedlam, and the other places, which are -entertainments to raw minds because they strike forcibly on the -fancy." In the same way Pepys "stept into Bedlam, and saw several poor -miserable creatures in chains, one of whom was _mad with making -verses_," a form of mental aberration not uncommon in these days, -though we do not deem it necessary to consign the victims of it to -medical guardianship. - -The original Bethlehem hospital was established by Henry VIII., in a -religious house that had been founded in 1246, by Simon Fitz-Mary, -Sheriff of London, as an ecclesiastical body. The house was situated -at Charing-cross, and very soon the king began to find it (when used -for the reception of lunatics) disagreeably near his own residence. -The asylum was therefore removed, at a "cost nigh L17,000," to -Bishopgate Without, where it remained till 1814, and the inmates were -removed to the present noble hospital in St. George's Fields, the -first stone of which was laid April 18th, 1812. - -One of the regulations of old Bedlam has long since been disused. The -harmless lunatics were allowed to roam about the country with a tin -badge--the star of St. Bethlehem--on the right arm. Tenderness towards -those to whom the Almighty has denied reason is a sentiment not -confined to the East. Wherever these poor creatures went they received -alms and kindly entreatment. The ensign on the right arm announced to -the world their lamentable condition and their need of help, and the -appeal was always mercifully responded to. Aubrey thus describes their -appearance and condition:-- - -"Till the breaking out of the Civil Wars Tom o' Bedlams did travel -about the country. They had been poor distracted men, but had been put -into Bedlam, where recovering some soberness, they were licentiated to -go a-begging, _i. e._ they had on their left arm an armilla of tin, -about four inches long; they could not get it off. They wore about -their necks a great horn of an ox in a string of baudry, which, when -they came to an house for alms, they did wind, and they did put the -drink given them into this horn, whereto they did put the stopple. -Since the wars I do not remember to have seen any one of them." - -The custom, however, continued long after the termination of the Civil -War. It is not now the humane practice to label our fools, so that -society may at once recognise them and entertain them with kindness. -They still go at large in our public ways. Facilities are even given -them for effecting an entrance into the learned professions. -Frequently they are docketed with titles of respect, and decked with -the robes of office. But however gratifying this plan may be to their -personal vanity it is not unattended with cruelty. Having about them -no external mark of their sad condition, they are often, through -carelessness and misapprehension--not through hardness of -heart--chastised with undue severity. "Poor Tom, thy horn is dry," -says Edgar, in "Lear." Never may the horn of mercy be dry to such poor -wretches! - -It is needless to say that Easter holiday-makers are no longer -permitted in swarms, on the payment of two-pence each, to race through -the St. Bethlehem galleries, insulting with their ribaldry the most -pitiable of God's afflicted creatures. A useful lesson, however, is -taught to the few strangers who still, as merely curious observers, -obtain admission for a few minutes within the walls of the asylum--a -lesson conveyed, not by the sufferings of the patients, so much as by -the gentle discipline, the numerous means of innocent amusement, and -the air of quiet contentment, which are the characteristics of a -well-managed hospital for the insane. - -Not less instructive would it be for many who now know of them only -through begging circulars and charity dinners, to inspect the -well-ventilated, cleanly--and it may be added, _cheerful_--dwellings -of the impoverished sick of London. The principal hospitals of the -capital, those, namely, to which medical schools are attached, are -eleven in number--St. George's, the London (at Mile End), University -College, King's, St. Mary's, Westminster, Middlesex, and -Charing-cross, are for the most part dependent on voluntary -contributions for support, the Westminster Hospital (instituted 1719) -being the first hospital established in this kingdom on the voluntary -system. The three other hospitals of the eleven have large endowments, -Bartholomew's and Guy's being amongst the wealthiest benevolent -foundations of the country. - -Like Bethlehem, St. Thomas's Hospital was originally a religious -house. At the dissolution of the monasteries it was purchased by the -citizens of London, and, in the year 1552, was opened as an hospital -for the sick. At the commencement of the last century it was rebuilt -by public subscription, three wards being erected at the cost of -Thomas Frederick, and three by Guy, the founder of Guy's Hospital. - -The first place of precedency amongst the London Hospitals is -contended for by St. Bartholomew's and Guy's. They are both alike -important by their wealth, the number of patients entertained within -their walls, and the celebrity of the surgeons and physicians with -whom their schools have enriched the medical profession; but the -former, in respect of antiquity, has superior claims to respect. -Readers require no introduction to the founder of Bartholomew's, for -only lately Dr. Doran, in his "Court Fools," gave a sketch of -Rahere--the minstrel and jester, who spent his prime in the follies -and vices of courts, and his riper years in the sacred offices of the -religious vocation. He began life a buffoon, and ended it a -prior--presiding over the establishment to the creation of which he -devoted the wealth earned by his abused wit. The monk chronicler says -of him: "When he attained the flower of youth he began to haunt the -households of noblemen and the palaces of princes; where, under every -elbow of them, he spread their cushions with apeings and flatterings, -delectably anointing their eyes--by this manner to draw to him their -friendships. And yet he was not content with this, but often haunted -the king's palace; and, among the press of that tumultuous court, -enforced himself with jollity and carnal suavity, by the which he -might draw to him the hearts of many one." But the gay adventurer -found that the ways of mirth were far from those of true gladness; -and, forsaking quips, and jeers, and wanton ditties for deeds of -mercy, and prayer, and songs of praise, he long was an ensample unto -men of holy living; and "after the years of his prelacy (twenty-two -years and six months), the 20th day of September (A. D. 1143), the -clay-house of this world forsook, and the house everlasting entered." - -In the church of St. Bartholomew may still be seen the tomb of Dr. -Francis Anthony, who, in spite of the prosecutions of the College of -Physicians, enjoyed a large practice, and lived in pomp in Bartholomew -Close, where he died in 1623. The merits of his celebrated nostrum, -the _aurum potabile_, to which Boyle gave a reluctant and qualified -approval, are alluded to in the inscription commemorating his -services:-- - - "There needs no verse to beautify thy praise, - Or keep in memory thy spotless name. - Religion, virtue, and thy skill did raise - A three-fold pillar to thy lasting fame. - - Though poisonous envy ever sought to blame - Or hide the fruits of thy intention, - Yet shall all they commend that high design - Of purest gold to make a medicine, - That feel thy help by that thy rare invention." - -Boyle's testimony to the good results of the _aurum potabile_ is -interesting, as his philosophic mind formed a decided opinion on the -efficacy of the preparation by observing its operation in _two_ -cases--persons of great note. "Though," he says, "I have long been -prejudiced against the _aurum potabile_, and other boasted -preparations of gold, for most of which I have no great esteem, yet I -saw such extraordinary and surprising effects from the tincture of -gold I spake of (prepared by two foreign physicians) upon persons of -great note, with whom I was particularly acquainted, both before they -fell sick and after their dangerous recovery, that I could not but -change my opinion for a very favourable one as to some preparations of -gold." - -Attached to his priory of St. Bartholomew's, Rahere founded an -hospital for the relief of poor and sick persons, out of which has -grown the present institution, over the principal gateway of which -stands, burly and with legs apart--like a big butcher watching his -meat-stall--an effigy of Henry VIII. Another of the art treasures of -the hospital is the staircase painted by Hogarth. - -If an hospital could speak it could tell strange tales--of misery -slowly wrought, ambition foiled, and fair promise ending in shame. -Many a toilworn veteran has entered the wards of St. Bartholomew's to -die in the very couch by the side of which in his youth he daily -passed--a careless student, joyous with the spring of life, and -little thinking of the storm and unkind winds rising up behind the -smiles of the nearer future. Scholars of gentle birth, brave soldiers -of proud lineage, patient women whose girlhood, spent in luxury and -refinement, has been followed by penury, evil entreatment, and -destitution, find their way to our hospitals--to pass from a world of -grief to one where sorrow is not. It is not once in awhile, but daily, -that a physician of any large charitable institution of London reads a -pathetic tale of struggle and defeat, of honest effort and bitter -failure, of slow descent from grade to grade of misfortune--in the -tranquil dignity, the mild enduring quiet, and noiseless gratitude of -poor sufferers--gentle once in fortune, gentle still in nature. One -hears unpleasant stories of medical students, their gross dissipations -and coarse manners. Possibly these stories have their foundation in -fact, but at best they are broad and unjust caricatures. This writer -in his youth lived much amongst the students of our hospitals, as he -did also amongst those of our old universities, and he found them -simple and manly in their lives, zealous in the pursuit of knowledge, -animated by _a professional esprit_ of the best sort, earnestly -believing in the dignity of their calling, and characterised by a -singular ever-lively compassion for all classes of the desolate and -distressed. And this quality of mercy, which unquestionably adorns in -an eminent degree the youth of our medical schools, he has always -regarded as a happy consequence of their education, making them -acquainted, in the most practical and affecting manner, with the sad -vicissitudes of human existence. - -Guy's hospital was the benevolent work of a London bookseller, who, by -perseverance, economy, and lucky speculation, amassed a very large -fortune. Thomas Guy began life with a stock of about L200, as a -stationery and bookseller in a little corner house between Cornhill -and Lombard-st., taking out his freedom of the Stationers' Company in -1668. He was a thrifty tradesman, but he won his wealth rather by -stock-jobbing than by the sale of books, although he made important -sums by his contract with the University of Oxford for their privilege -of printing bibles. Maitland informs us, "England being engaged in an -expensive war against France, the poor seamen on board the royal navy, -for many years, instead of money received tickets for their pay, which -those necessitous but very useful men were obliged to dispose of at -thirty, forty, and sometimes fifty in the hundred discount. Mr. Guy, -discovering the sweets of this traffick, became an early dealer -therein, as well as in other government securities, by which, and his -trade, he acquired a very great estate." In the South-sea stock he was -not less lucky. He bought largely at the outset, held on till the -bubble reached its full size, and ere the final burst sold out. It may -be questioned whether Guy's or Rahere's money was earned the more -honourably,--whether to fawn, flatter, and jest at the table of -princes was a meaner course of exertion than to drive a usurious trade -with poor sailors, and fatten on a stupendous national calamity. But -however basely it may have been gathered together, Guy's wealth was -well expended, in alleviating the miseries of the same classes from -whose sufferings it had been principally extracted. In his old age -Guy set about building his hospital, and ere his death, in 1724, saw -it completed. On its erection and endowment he expended L238,292 -16_s._ 5_d._ To his honour it must be stated that, notwithstanding -this expenditure and his munificent contributions to other charities, -he had a considerable residue of property, which he distributed -amongst his poor relations. - -Of the collegiate medical buildings of London, the one that belongs to -the humblest department of the profession is the oldest, and for that -reason--apart from its contents, which are comparatively of little -value--the most interesting. Apothecaries' Hall, in Water Lane, -Blackfriars, was built in 1670. Possibly the size and imposing aspect -of their college stimulated the drug-vendors to new encroachments on -the prescriptive and enacted rights of the physicians. The rancour of -"The Dispensary" passes over the merits (graces it has none) of the -structure, and designates it by mentioning its locality-- - - "Nigh where Fleet Ditch descends in sable streams, - To wash his sooty Naiads in the Thames, - There stands a structure on a rising hill, - Where tyros take their freedom out to kill." - -Amongst the art-treasures of the hall are a portrait of James I. (who -first established the apothecaries as a company distinct from the -grocers), and a bust of Delaune, the lucky apothecary of that -monarch's queen, who has already been mentioned in these pages. - -The elegant college of the physicians, in Pall Mall east, was not -taken into use till the 25th of June, 1825, the doctors migrating to -it from Warwick Hall, which is now in the occupation of the butchers -of Newgate Market. Had the predecessors of the present tenants been -"the surgeons," instead of "the physicians," the change of masters -would have given occasion for a joke. As it is, not even the -consolation of a jest can be extracted from the desecration of an -abode of learning that has many claims on our affection. - -In "The Dispensary," the proximity of the college dome to the Old -Bailey is playfully pointed at:-- - - "Not far from that most celebrated place, - Where angry justice shows her awful face, - Where little villains must submit to fate, - That great ones may enjoy the world in state, - There stands 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: - This pile was, by the pious patron's aim, - Raised for a use as noble as its frame. - Nor did the learn'd society decline - The propagation of that great design; - In all her mazes, Nature's face they view'd, - And, as she disappear'd, their search pursued. - Wrapt in the shade of night, the goddess lies, - Yet to the learn'd unveils her dark disguise, - But shuns the gross access of vulgar eyes." - -The Warwick Lane college was erected on the college at Amen Corner (to -which the physicians removed on quitting their original abode in -Knight-Rider Street), being burnt to the ground in the great fire of -1666. Charles II. and Sir John Cutler were ambitious of having their -names associated with the new edifice, the chief fault of which was -that, like all the other restorations following the memorable -conflagration, it was raised near the old site. Charles became its -pious patron, and Sir John Cutler its munificent benefactor. The -physicians duly thanked them, and honoured them with statues, Cutler's -effigy having inscribed beneath it, "Omnis Cutleri cedat labor -Amphitheatro." - -So far, so good. The fun of the affair remains to be told. On Sir -John's death, his executors, Lord Radnor and Mr. Boulter, demanded of -the college L7000, which covered in amount a sum the college had -borrowed of their deceased benefactor, and also the sum he pretended -to have given. Eventually the executors lowered their claim to L2000 -(which, it is reasonable to presume, had been _lent_ by Sir John), and -discontinued their demand for the L5000 given. Such being the stuff of -which Sir John was made, well might Pope exclaim:-- - - "His Grace's fate sage Cutler could foresee, - And well (he thought) advised him, 'Live like me.' - As well his Grace replied, 'Like you, Sir John? - That I can do when all I have is gone.'" - -In consideration of the L5000 retained of the niggard's money, the -physicians allowed his statue to remain, but they erased the -inscription from beneath it. - -The Royal College of Surgeons in London was not incorporated till the -year 1800--more than half a century after the final disruption of the -surgeons from the barbers--and the college in Lincoln's Inn Fields was -not erected till 1835. Its noble museum, based on the Hunterian -Collection, which the nation purchased for L15,000, contains, amongst -its treasures, a few preparations that are valuable for their -historical associations or sheer eccentricity, rather than for any -worth from a strictly scientific point of view. Amongst them are -Martin Van Buchell's first wife, whose embalmment by William Hunter -has already been mentioned; the intestines of Napoleon, showing the -progress of the disease which was eventually fatal to him; and the -fore-arms (preserved in spirits) of Thomas Beaufort, third son of John -of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster. - -The writer had recently submitted to his notice, by Dr. Diamond of -Twickenham, a very interesting and beautifully penned manuscript, -relating to these remains, of which the following is a copy:-- - - "BURY ST EDMUNDS. - - "_Joseph Pater scripsit, when thirteen years of age._ - -"On the 20th of February, 1772, some labourers, employed in breaking -up part of the old abbey church, discovered a leaden coffin, which -contained an embalmed body, as perfect and entire as at the time of -its death; the features and lineaments of the face were perfect, which -were covered with a mask of embalming materials. The very colour of -the eyes distinguishable; the hairs of the head a brown, intermixed -with some few gray ones; the nails fast upon the fingers and toes as -when living; stature of the body about six feet tall, and genteelly -formed. The labourers, for the sake of the lead (which they sold to Mr -Faye, a plummer, in this town, for about 15s), stript the body of its -coffin, and threw it promiscuously amongst the rubbish. From the place -of its interment it was soon found to be the remains of Thomas -Beaufort, third son of John de Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, by his third -duchess, Lady Catherine Swineford, relict of Sir Otho de Swineford, of -Lincolnshire. He took the name of Beaufort from the place of his -birth, a castle of the duke's, in France. He was half-brother to King -Henry IV., created Duke of Exeter and Knight of the Garter; in 1410, -Lord Chancellor of England; in 1412, High Admiral of England, and -Captain of Calais; he commanded the Rear-Guard of his nephew King -Henry the Fifth's army at the battle of Agincourt, on the 25th of -October, 1415; and in 1422, upon the death of King Henry the Fifth, -was jointly with his brother, Henry, Cardinal Bishop of Winchester, -appointed by the Parliament to the government, care, and education of -the royal infant, Henry the Sixth. He married Margaret, daughter of -Sir Thomas Nevil, by whom he had issue only one son, who died young. -He was a great benefactor to this church, died at East Greenwich, -1427, in the 5th year of King Henry ye Sixth, and was interred in this -Abbey, near his duchess (as he had by his will directed), at the -entrance of the Chapel of our Lady, close to the wall. On the 24th of -February following, the mangled remains were enclosed in an oak -coffin, and buried about eight feet deep, close to the north side of -the north-east pillar, which formerly assisted to support the Abbey -belfry. Before its re-interment, the body was mangled and cut with the -most savage barbarity by Thomas Gery Cullum, a young surgeon in this -town, lately appointed Bath King-at-Arms. The skull sawed in pieces, -where the brain appeared it seemed somewhat wasted, but perfectly -contained in its proper membranes; the body ript open from the neck to -the bottom, the cheek cut through by a saw entering at the mouth; his -arms chopped off below the elbows and taken away. One of the arms the -said Cullum confesses to have in spirits. The crucifix, supposed to be -a very valuable one, is missing. It is believed the body of the -duchess was found (within about a foot of the Duke's) on the 24th of -February. If she was buried in lead she was most likely conveyed away -clandestinely the same night. In this church several more of the -antient royal blood were interred, whose remains are daily expected to -share the same fate. Every sensible and humane mind reflects with -horror at the shocking and wanton inhumanity with which the princely -remains of the grandson of the victorious King Edward the Third have -been treated--worse than the body of a common malefactor, and 345 -years after his death. The truth of this paragraph having been -artfully suppressed, or very falsely represented in the county -newspapers, and the conveyance of public intelligence rendered -doubtful, no method could be taken to convey a true account to the -public but by this mode of offering it." - -The young surgeon whose conduct is here so warmly censured was the -younger son of a Suffolk baronet. On the death of his brother he -succeeded to the family estate and honours, and having no longer any -necessity to exert himself to earn money, relinquished medical -practice. He was born in 1741 and died in 1831. It is from him that -the present baronet, of Hawstead Place and Hardwicke House, in the -county of Suffolk, is descended. - -The fore-arms, now in the custody of the College of Surgeons, were for -a time separated. One of them was retained by Mr. Cullum, and the -other, becoming the property of some mute inglorious Barnum, was taken -about to all the fairs and wakes of the county, and exhibited as a -raree-show at a penny a peep. The vagrant member, however, came back -after a while to Mr. Cullum, and he presented both of the mutilated -pertions to their present possessors. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - -THE COUNTRY MEDICAL MAN. - - -The country doctor, such as we know him--a well-read and observant -man, skilful in his art, with a liberal love of science, and in every -respect a gentleman--is so recent a creation, that he may almost be -spoken of as a production of the present century. There still linger -in the provinces veteran representatives of the ignorance which, in -the middle of the last century, was the prevailing characteristic of -the rural apothecary. Even as late as 1816, the law required no -medical education in a practitioner of the healing art in country -districts, beyond an apprenticeship to an empiric, who frequently had -not information of any kind, beyond the rudest elements of a -druggist's learning, to impart to his pupils. Men who commenced -business under this system are still to be found in every English -county, though in most cases they endeavour to conceal their lack of -scientific culture under German or Scotch diplomas--bought for a few -pounds. - -Scattered over these pages are many anecdotes of provincial doctors in -the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, from which a truthful but -not complimentary picture of their order may be obtained. Indeed, they -were for the most part vulgar drunken knaves, with just learning -enough to impose on the foolish crowds who resorted to them. The most -brilliant of the fraternity in Henry the Eighth's reign was Andrew -Borde, a Winchester practitioner. This gentleman was author and -buffoon, as well as physician. He travelled about the country from -market to fair, and from fair to market, making comic orations to the -crowds who purchased his nostrums, singing songs, and enlivening the -proceedings when they were becoming dull with grimaces of -inexpressible drollery. It was said of Sir John Hill, - - "For physic and farces - His equal there scarce is; - His farces are physic, - His physic a farce is." - -Borde's physic doubtless was a farce; but if his wit resembled physic, -it did so, not (like Hill's) by making men sick, but by rousing their -spirits and bracing their nerves with good hearty laughter. Everywhere -he was known as "Merry Andrew," and his followers, when they mounted -the bank, were proud to receive the same title. - -Mr. H. Fleetwood Sheppard communicated in the year 1855, some amusing -anecdotes to "Notes and Queries" about the popular Dorsetshire -doctor--little Dr. Grey. Small but warlike, this gentleman, in the -reign of James the First, had a following of well-born roisterers that -enabled him to beard the High Sheriff at the assizes. He was always in -debt, but as he always carried a brandy-flask and a brace of loaded -pistols in his pocket or about his neck, he neither experienced the -mental harass of impecuniosity nor feared bailiffs. In the hour of -peril he blew a horn, which he wore suspended to his person, and the -gentlemen of his body-guard rallied round him, vowing they were his -"sons," and would die for him. Says the MS.--"This Doctor Grey was -once arreste by a pedler, who coming to his house knocked at ye dore -as yey (he being desirous of Hobedyes) useth to doe, and ye pedler -having gartars upon his armes, and points, &c., asked him whether he -did wante any points or gartars, &c., pedler like. Grey hereat began -to storme, and ye other tooke him by ye arme, and told him that he had -no neede be so angry, and holdinge him fast, told him y he had ye -kinge's proces for him, and showed him his warrant. 'Hast thou?' quoth -Grey, and stoode stil awhile; but at length, catchinge ye fellowe by -both ends of his collar before, held him fast, and _drawinge out a -great rundagger, brake his head in two or three places_." - -Again, Dr. Grey "came one day at ye assizes, wheare ye sheriffe had -some sixty men, and he wth his twenty sonnes, ye trustyest young -gentlemen and of ye best sort and rancke, came and drancke in -Dorchester before ye sheriffe, and bad who dare to touch him; _and so -after awhile blew his horn and came away_." On the same terms who -would not like to be a Dorsetshire physician? - -In 1569 (_vide_ "Roberts' History of the Southern Counties") Lyme had -no medical practitioner. And at the beginning of the seventeenth -century Sir Symonds D'Ewes was brought into the world at Coxden Hall, -near Axminster, by a female practitioner, who deformed him for life by -her clumsiness. Yet more, Mrs. D'Ewes set out with her infant for -London, when the babe, unable to bear the jolting of the carriage, -screamed itself into a violent illness, and had to be left behind at -Dorchester under the care of another doctress--Mrs. Margaret Waltham. -And two generations later, in 1665, the Rev. Giles Moore, of Essex, -had to send twenty-five miles for an ordinary medical man, who was -paid 12_s._ per visit, and the same distance for a physician, whose -fee was L1--a second physician, who came and stayed two days, being -paid L1 10_s._ - -Of the country doctors of the middle and close of the last century, -Dr. Slop is a fair specimen. They were a rude, vulgar, keen-witted set -of men, possessing much the same sort of intelligence, and disfigured -by the same kind of ignorance, as a country gentleman expects now to -find in his farrier. They had to do battle with the village nurses at -the best on equal terms, often at a disadvantage; masculine dignity -and superior medical erudition being in many districts of less account -than the force of old usage, and the sense of decorum that supported -the lady practitioners. Mrs. Shandy had an express provision in her -marriage settlement, securing her from the ignorance of country -doctors. Of course, in respect to learning and personal acquirements, -the rural practitioners, as a class, varied very much, in accordance -with the intelligence and culture of the district in which their days -were spent, with the class and character of their patients, and with -their own connections and original social condition. On his Yorkshire -living Sterne came in contact with a rought lot. The Whitworth Taylors -were captains and leaders of the army in which Dr. Slop was a -private. The original of the last-mentioned worthy was so ill-read -that he mistook Lithopaedii Senonensis Icon for the name of a -distinguished surgical authority, and, under this erroneous -impression, quoted Lithopaedus Senonensis with the extreme of gravity. - -This Lithopaedus Senonensis story is not without its companions. A -prescription, in which a physician ordered _extract, rad valer._, and -immediately under it, as an ingredient in the same mixture, a certain -quantity of _tinctura ejusdem_, sorely perplexed the poor apothecary -to who it was sent to be dispensed. _Tinctura ejusdem!_ What could it -be! _Ejusdem!_ In the whole pharmacopoeia such a drug was not named. -Nothing like it was to be found on any label in his shop. At his wits' -end, the poor fellow went out to a professional neighbour, and asked, -in an off-hand way, "How are you off for _Tinctura Ejusdem_? I am out -of it. So can you let me have a little of yours." The neighbour, who -was a sufficiently good classical scholar to have _idem_, _eadem_, -_idem_ at his tongue's end, lamented that he too was "out of the -article." and sympathizingly advised his _confrere_, without loss of -time, to apply for some at Apothecaries' Hall. What a delightful -blunder to make to a _friend_, of all the people in the world! The -apothecary must have been a dull as well as an unlettered fellow, or -he would have known the first great rule of his art--"When in -doubt--_Use water!_" A more awkward mistake still was that made by the -young dispenser, who, for the first time in his life, saw at the end -of a prescription the words _pro re nata_. What could they mean? _pro -re nata!_ What could _pro re nata_ have to do with a mixture sent to -a lady who had just presented her husband with an heir. With the aid -of a Latin Dictionary, the novice rendered _pro re nata_ "for the -thing born." Of course. Clearly the mixture was for the baby. And in a -trice the compound to be taken by an adult, as circumstances should -indicate a necessity for a dose, was sent off for the "little -stranger." - -May not mention here be made of thee, ancient friend of childhood, -Roland Trevor? The whole country round, for a circle of which the -diameter measured thirty fair miles, thou wert one of the most popular -doctors of East Anglia. Who rode better horses? Who was the bolder in -the hunt, or more joyous over the bottle? Cheery of voice, with hearty -laughter rolling from purple lips, what company thou wert to festive -squires! The grave some score years since closed over thee, when -ninety-six years had passed over thy head--covering it with silver -tresses, and robbing the eye of its pristine fire, and the lip of its -mirthful curl. The shop of a country apothecary had been thy only -_Alma Mater_; so, surely, it was no fault of thine if thy learning was -scanty. Still, in the pleasant vales of Loes and Wilford is told the -story of how, on being asked if thou wert a believer in _phrenology_, -thou didst answer with becoming gravity, "I never keep it, and I never -use it. But I think it highly probable that, given frequently and in -liberal doses, it would be very useful in certain cases of irregular -gout." - -Another memory arises of a country doctor of the old school. A huge, -burly, surly, churlish old fellow was Dr. Standish. He died in -extremely advanced age, having lived twenty-five years in the present -century. A ferocious radical, he was an object of considerable public -interest during the period of political excitement consequent on the -French Revolution. Tom Paine, the Thetford breeches-maker of whom the -world has heard a little, was his familiar friend and correspondent. -It was rumoured throughout the land that "government" had marked the -doctor out for destruction. - -"Thar sai," the humbler Suffolk farmers used to gossip amongst -themselves, "thar sai a picter-taikin chap hav guv his poortright to -the King. And Billy Pitt ha'sin it. And oold King Georgie ha' swaren -as how that sooner nor later he'll hav his hid" (_i. e._ head). - -The "upper ten" of Holmnook, and the upper ten-times-ten of the -distance round about Holmnook, held themselves aloof from such a -dangerous character. But the common folk believed in and admired him. -There was something of romance about a man whom George III. and Billy -Pitt were banded together to destroy. - -Standish was a man of few words. "Down with the bishops!" "Up with the -people!" were his stock sentiments. He never approached nearer poetry -than when (yellow being then the colour of the extreme liberal party -in his district) he swore "there worn't a flower in the who' o' -crashun warth lookin' at but a sunflower, for that was yallow, and a -big un." - -The man had no friends in Holmnook or the neighbourhood; but every -evening for fifty years he sate, in the parlour of the chief inn, -drinking brandy-and-water, and smoking a "churchwarden." His -wife--(his wooing must have been of a queer sort)--a quiet, -inoffensive little body, sometimes forgot she was but a woman, and -presumed to have an opinion of her own. On such occasions Standish -thrashed her soundly with a dog-whip. In consequence of one of these -castigations she ran away from her tyrant. Instead of pursuing her, -Dr. Standish merely inserted the following advertisement in the county -paper:-- - -"_Dr Standish to all whom it may concern._--Dr Standish's wife having -run away, he wants a housekeeper. Dr Standish doesn't want good looks -in a woman: but she must know how to hold her tongue and cook a plain -joint. He gives ten pounds. Mrs Standish needn't apply--she's too much -of a lady." - -But poor Mrs. Standish did apply, and, what is more, obtained the -situation. She and her lord never again had any quarrel that obtained -publicity; and so the affair ended more happily than in all -probability it would have done had Sir Creswell Creswell's court been -then in existence. Standish's practice lay principally amongst the -mechanics and little farmers of the neighborhood. Much of his time was -therefore spent in riding his two huge lumbering horses about the -country. In his old age he indulged himself in a gig (which, out of -respect to radical politics, he painted with a flaring yellow paint); -but, at the commencement of the present century, the by-roads of -Suffolk--now so good that a London brougham drawn by one horse can -with ease whisk over the worst of them at the rate of ten miles an -hour--were so bad that a doctor could not make an ordinary round on -them in a wheeled carriage. Even in the saddle he ran frequent risk -of being mired, unless his horse had an abundance of bone and pluck. - -Standish's mode of riding was characteristic of the man. Straight on -he went, at a lumbering six miles an hour trot--dash, dosh, -dush!--through the muddy roads, sitting loosely in his seat, heavy and -shapeless as a sack of potatoes, looking down at his brown corduroy -breeches and his mahogany top-boots (the toes of which pointed in -directly opposite directions), wearing a perpetual scowl on his brows, -and never either rising in his stirrups or fixing himself to the -saddle with his knees. Not a word would he speak to a living creature -in the way of civil greeting. - -"Doctor, good morning to you," an acquaintance would cry out; "'tis a -nice day!" - -"Ugh!" Standish would half grunt, half roar, trotting straight -on--dish, dosh, dush! - -"Stop, doctor, I am out of sorts, and want some physic," would be the -second form of address. - -"Then why the ---- ---- didn't you say so, instead of jawing about the -weather?" the urbane physician would say, checking his horse. - -Standish never turned out an inch for any wayfarer. Sullen and -overbearing, he rode straight on upon one side of the road; and, -however narrow the way might be, he never swerved a barley-corn from -his line for horse or rider, cart or carriage. Our dear friend Charley -Halifax gave him a smart lesson in good manners on this point. Charley -had brought a well-bred hackney, and a large fund of animal spirits, -down from Cambridge to a title for orders in mid-Suffolk. He had met -Standish in the cottages of some of his flock, and afterwards meeting -elsewhere, had greeted him, and had no greeting in return. It was not -long ere Charley learnt all about the clownish apothecary, and -speedily did he devise a scheme for humbling him. The next time he saw -Standish in the distance, trotting on towards him, Charley put his -heels to his horse, and charged the man of drugs at full gallop. -Standish came lumbering on, disdaining to look before him and -ascertain who was clattering along at such a pace. On arriving within -six feet of Standish's horse, Halifax fell back on his curb-rein, and -pulled up sharp. Astonished, but more sensible than his master, -Standish's horse (as Charley knew would be the case) suddenly came to -a dead stop, on which Standish rolled over its head into the muddy -highway. As he rolled over, he threw out a volley of oaths. "Ah, -doctor," cried Charley, good-humoredly, "I said I would make you speak -to me." Standish was six feet high, and a powerful man. For a few -moments, on recovering his legs, he looked as if he contemplated an -assault on the young parson. But he thought better of it; and, -climbing into his seat once more, trotted on, without another -word--dish, dosh, dush! The incident didn't tend to soften his -feelings toward the Established Church. - -The country doctor of the last century always went his rounds on -horseback booted and spurred. The state of the roads rendered any -other mode of travelling impracticable to men who had not only to use -the highways and coach-roads, but to make their way up bridle-paths, -and drifts, and lanes, to secluded farmsteads and outlying villages. -Even as late as the last generation, in Suffolk, where now people -drive to and fro at the rate of twelve miles an hour, a doctor (whom -the writer of these pages has reason to think of with affection) was -more than once mired, on a slightly-built blood horse, so effectually, -that he had to dismount ere the animal could be extricated; and this -happened in roads that at the present time are, in all seasons, firm -as a garden walk. - -Describing the appearance of a country doctor of this period, a writer -observes--"When first I saw him, it was on Frampton Green. I was -somewhat his junior in years, and had heard so much of him that I had -no small curiosity to see him. He was dressed in a blue coat and -yellow buttons, buckskins, well-polished jockey-boots, with handsome -silver spurs, and he carried a smart whip with a silver handle. His -hair, after the fashion, was done up in a club, and he wore a -broad-brimmed hat." Such was the appearance of Jenner, as he galloped -across the vale of Gloucester, visiting his patients. There is little -to remind us of such a personage as this in the statue in Trafalgar -Square, which is the slowly-offered tribute of our gratitude to Edward -Jenner for his imperishable services to mankind. The opposition that -Jenner met with in his labours to free our species from a hideous -malady that, destroying life and obliterating beauty, spared neither -the cottage nor the palace, is a subject on which it is painful to -reflect. The learned of his own profession and the vulgar of all ranks -combined to persecute and insult him; and when the merit of his -inestimable discovery was acknowledged by all intelligent persons, he -received from his country a remuneration that was little better than -total neglect. - -While acting as an apprentice to a country surgeon he first conceived -the possibility of checking the ravages of small-pox. A young servant -woman, who accidentally said that she was guarded from that disease by -having "had cow-pox," first apprized him that amongst the servants of -a rural population a belief existed that the virus from the diseased -cow, on being absorbed by the human system, was a preventive against -small-pox. From that time, till the ultimate success of his inquiries, -he never lost sight of the subject. - -The ridicule and misrepresentation to which he was subjected are at -this date more pleasant for us to laugh at than, at the time, they -were for him to bear. The ignorant populace of London was instructed -that people, on being vaccinated, ran great risks of being converted -into members of the bovine family. The appearance of hair covering the -whole body, of horns and a tail, followed in many cases the operation. -The condition of an unhappy child was pathetically described, who, -brutified by vaccine ichor, persisted in running on all-fours and -roaring like a bull. Dr. Woodville and Dr. Moseley opposed Jenner, the -latter with a violence that little became a scientific inquirer. -Numerous were the squibs and caricatures the controversy called forth. -Jenner was represented as riding on a cow--an animal certainly not -adapted to show the doctor ("booted and spurred" as we have just seen -him) off to the best advantage. Of Moseley the comic muse sung: - - "Oh, Moseley! thy book, nightly phantasies rousing, - Full oft makes me quake for my heart's dearest treasure; - For fancy, in dreams, oft presents them all browsing - On commons, just like little Nebuchadnezzar. - _There_, nibbling at thistle, stand Jem, Joe, and Mary, - On their foreheads, O horrible! crumpled horns bud: - There Tom with his tail, and poor William all hairy, - Reclined in a corner, are chewing the cud." - -If London was unjust to him, the wiseacres of Gloucestershire thought -that burning was his fit punishment. One dear old lady, whenever she -saw him leaving his house, used to run out and attack him with -indescribable vivacity. "So your book," cried this charming matron, in -genuine Gloucestershire dialect, "is out at last. Well! I can tell you -that there bean't a copy sold in our town, nor shan't neither, if I -can help it." On hearing, subsequent to the publication of the book (a -great offence to the old lady!), some rumours of vaccination failures, -the same goodie bustled up to the doctor and cried, with galling -irony, "Shan't us have a general inoculation now?" - -But Jenner was compensated for this worthy woman's opposition in the -enthusiastic support of Rowland Hill, who not only advocated -vaccination in his ordinary conversation, but from the pulpit used to -say, after his sermon to his congregation, wherever he preached, "I am -ready to vaccinate to-morrow morning as many children as you choose; -and if you wish them to escape that horrid disease, the small-pox, you -will bring them." A Vaccine Board was also established at the Surrey -Chapel--_i. e._ the Octagon Chapel, in Blackfriars Road. - -"My Lord," said Rowland Hill once to a nobleman, "allow me to present -to your Lordship my friend, Dr. Jenner, who has been the means of -saving more lives than any other man." - -"Ah!" observed Jenner, "would that I, like you, could say--souls." - -There was no cant in this. Jenner was a simple, unaffected, and devout -man. His last words were, "I do not marvel that men are grateful to -me, but I am surprised that they do not feel gratitude to God for -making me a medium of good." - -Of Jenner's more sprightly humour, the following epigrams from his pen -(communicated to the writer of these pages by Dr. E. D. Moore of -Salop), are good specimens. - - - "TO MY SPANISH CIGAR. - - "Soother of an anxious hour! - Parent of a thousand pleasures! - With gratitude I owe thy power - And place thee 'mongst my choicest treasures. - Thou canst the keenest pangs disarm - Which care obtrudes upon the heart; - At thy command, my little charm, - Quick from the bosom they depart." - - - "ON THE DEATH OF JOHN AND BETTY COLE. - - "Why, neighbours, thus mournfully sorrow and fret? - Here lie snug and cosy old John and his Bet; - Your sighing and sobbing ungodly and rash is, - For two knobs of coal that have now gone to ashes." - - -"ON MISS JENNER AND MISS EMILY WORTHINGTON TEARING THE "GLOBE" - NEWSPAPER. - - "The greatest curse that hath a name - Most certainly from woman came. - Two of the sex the other night-- - Well arm'd with talons, venom, spite,-- - Pull'd caps, you say?--a great wonder! - By Jove, they pull'd the globe asunder!" - -Dr. Jenner was very fond of scribbling _currente calamo_ such verses -as these. The following specimens of his literary prowess have, we -believe, never before been published. - - HANNAH BALL.--A SONG. - - "Farewell, ye dear lasses of town and of city, - Sweet ladies, adieu to you all! - Don't show a frown, though I tune up a ditty - In praise of fair Hannah Ball. - - "T'other eve, as I rambled her snug cottage by, - Sly Cupid determined my fall, - The rogue, 'stead of darts, shot the beams of her eye, - The eye of my fair Hannah Ball. - - "So sweetly she look'd, when attired so fine, - In her Dunstable hat and her shawl, - Enraptured I cried--''Tis a Goddess divine.' - 'No indeed'--she replied--'Hannah Ball.' - - "The bosom of Delia, tho' whiter than snow, - Is no more than black velvet pall-- - Compared with my Hannah's--I'd have you to know-- - The bosom of fair Hannah Ball. - - "The honey the bee from her jessamine sips - You'd swear was as bitter as gall, - Could you taste but the sweets that exhale from the lips, - From the lips of the fair Hannah Ball. - - "What's rouge, or carmine, or the blush of the rose? - Why, dead as the lime on the wall, - Compared with the delicate colour that glows - On the cheek of my fair Hannah Ball. - - "When David melodiously play'd to appease - The troubled emotions of Saul, - Were his sounds more enchanting--ah, tell me, than these? - 'Hannah Ball, oh! the fair Hannah Ball.' - - "Near yonder fair copse as I pensively rove - In an eve, when the dews 'gin to fall; - To my sighs how kind echo responds from the grove-- - 'Hannah Ball, oh! the fair Hannah Ball.' - - "With graces so winning see Rossi advance - But what's all his grace?--Why a sprawl-- - With my Hannah compared, as she skims through the dance-- - The lovely, the fair Hannah Ball. - - "The song of the Mara--tho' great is her skill, - Believe me's no more than a squall, - Compared with the rapturous magical trill - Of my charming, my fair Hannah Ball. - - "For oft in the meads at the close of the day, - Near yon murmuring rivulet's fall, - Have I heard the soft nightingale's soul-piercing lay, - And thought 'twas my fair Hannah Ball. - - "To her eyes in Love's language I've told a soft tale, - But, alas! they replied not at all; - Yet bashfulness oft will our passions conceal; - Oh! the modest, the fair Hannah Ball. - - "Ye Gods! would you make the dear creature my wife, - With thanks would I bow to you all; - How smoothly would then run the wheels of my life, - With my charming, my fair Hannah Ball. - - "But should my petition be flung from the skies, - I'll take the bare bodkin or awl; - Yes! the cold seal of Death shall be fix'd on my eyes,-- - What's Life without fair Hannah Ball." - -This is a happy little satire on a vilage scandal. The Methodist -parson and Roger were amongst the doctor's rustic neighbours. - - On a quarrel between Butler, the Methodist parson of - Frampton, and Roger his clerk. Butler accused the clerk of - stealing his liquors, and the clerk accused Butler of - stealing his bacon. - - "Quoth good parson Butler to Rogers his clerk, - 'How things come to light that are done in the dark! - My wine is all pilfer'd,--a sad piece of work,-- - But a word with thee, Richard--I see thou'rt no Turk.' - - "'What evil befall us!'--quoth Dick in reply, - Whilst contempt methodistical glanced from his eye,-- - 'My bacon's slipt off too--alas, sir! 'tis true, - And the fact seems to whisper that--you are no Jew.'" - -The most daring of Jenner's epigrams, out of the scores that we have -perused, is the following-- - - - ON READING ADAM SMITH. - - "The priests may exclaim against cursing and swearing, - And tell us such things are quite beyond bearing; - But 'tis clear as the day their denouncing's a sham; - For a thousand good things may be learnt from _Adam_." - -Babbage, in his "Decline of Science in England," has remarked that -"some of the most valuable names which adorn the history of English -science have been connected with this (the medical) profession." Of -those names many have belonged to country doctors; amongst which -Jenner has a conspicuous place.[22] - - [22] Medical readers will be amused with the following letter, written - by Dr. Jenner, showing as it does the excess of caution with which he - prepared his patients for the trifling operation of vaccination. - - "Sir, - - "I was absent from home when your obliging letter of the - 24th November arrived; but I do not think this is likely to - occur again for some time, and I shall therefore be very - happy to take your little family under my care at the time - you mention--the latter end of January. Our arrangements - must be carefully made, as the children must be met here by - proper subjects for transferring the Vaccine Lymph; for on - the accuracy of this part of the process much depends. It - may be necessary to observe also, that among the greatest - impediments to vaccination (indeed the greatest) is an - eruptive state of the skin on the child intended to receive - the infection. On this subject I wrote a paper so long ago - as the year 1804, and took much pains to circulate it; but I - am sorry to say the attention that has been paid to it by - the Faculty in general has been by no means equal to its - importance. This is a rock on which vaccination has been - often wreck'd; but there is no excuse, as it was so clearly - laid down in the chart. - - "I am, Sir, your obedient - "and very humble servant, - "EDWARD JENNER." - - -Jenner was a bright representative of that class of medical -practitioners--sagacious, well-instructed, courageous, and -self-dependent in intellect--who, at the close of the last century, -began to spring up in all parts of the country, and have rapidly -increased in number; so that now the prejudiced, vulgar, pedantic -doctors of Sterne's and Smollett's pages are extinct--no more to be -found on the face of the earth than are the drunken squires who -patronized and insulted them. - -Of such a sort was Samuel Parr, the father of the famous classic -scholar and Whig politician of the same name. The elder Parr was a -general practitioner at Harrow, "a man" (as his son described him) "of -a very robust and vigorous intellect." Educated in his early years at -Harrow School, Samuel Parr (the son) was taken from that splendid -seminary at the age of fourteen years and apprenticed to his father. -For three or four years he applied himself to the mastery of the -elements of surgical and medical knowledge--dispensing medicines, -assisting at operations, and performing all the duties which a country -doctor's pupil was expected to perform. But he had not nerve enough -for the surgical department of the profession. "For a physician," he -used to say, "I might have done well, but for a surgeon never." His -father consequently sent him to Cambridge, and allowed him to turn his -intellects to those pursuits in which Nature had best fitted him to -excel. Dr. Parr's reminiscences of this period of medical instruction -were nearly all pleasant--and some of them were exquisitely droll. At -that early age his critical taste and faculty caused him to subject -the prescriptions that came under his notice to a more exact scrutiny -than the dog-Latin of physicians usually undergoes. - -"Father," cried the boy, glancing his eye over a prescription, "here's -another mistake in the grammar!" - -"Sam," answered the irritable sire, "d---- the prescription, make up -the medicine." - -Laudanum was a preparation of opium just then coming into use. Mr. -Parr used it at first sparingly and cautiously. On one occasion he -administered a small quantity to a patient, and the next day, pleased -with the effects of the dose, expressed his intention (but -hesitatingly) to repeat it. - -"You may do that safely, sir," said the son. - -"Don't be rash, boy. Beginners are always too bold. How should you -know what is safe?" asked the father. - -"Because, sir," was the answer, "when I made up the prescription -yesterday, I doubled the dose." - -"Doubled the dose! How dared you do that?" exclaimed the angry senior. - -"Because, sir," answered little Sam, coolly, "_I saw you hesitate._" - -The father who would not feel pride in such a son would not deserve to -have him. - -Though Parr made choice of another profession he always retained a -deep respect for his father's calling and the practitioners of it; -medical men forming a numerous and important portion of his -acquaintance. In his years of ripest judgment he often declared that -"he considered the medical professors as the most learned, -enlightened, moral, and liberal class of the community." - -How many pleasant reminiscences this writer has of country surgeons--a -class of men interesting to an observer of manners, as they comprise -more distinct types of character than any other professional body. -Hail to thee, Dr. Agricola! more yeoman than _savant_, bluff, hearty, -and benevolent, hastening away from fanciful patients to thy farm, -about which it is thy pleasure, early and late, to trudge, vigilant -and canny, clad in velveteen jacket and leathern gaiters, armed with -spud-stick or double-barrel gun, and looking as unlike Andrew Borde -or Dr. Slop as it is possible to conceive mortal! What an eccentric, -pious, tyrannical, most humane giant thou art! When thou wast mayor of -thy borough, what lawless law didst thou maintain! With thine own arm -and oaken stick didst thou fustigate the drunken poacher who beat his -wife; and the little children, who made a noise in the market-square -on a Sunday, thou didst incarcerate (for the sake of public morality) -in "the goose-house" for two hours; but (for the sake of mercy) thou -didst cause to be served out to each prisoner one large gingerbread -bun--to soften the hardships of captivity. When the ague raged, and -provisions were scarce in what the poor still refer to as "the bad -year," what prescriptions didst thou, as parish doctor, shower down on -the fever-ridden?--Mutton and gin, beef and wine--such were thy -orders! The parsons said bravo! and clapt thee on the back; but the -guardians of the poor and the relieving officers were up in arms, and -summoned thee before a solemn tribunal at the union-house--"the -board!" in fact. What an indignant oath and scream of ridicule didst -thou give, when an attorney (Sir Oracle of "the board") endeavoured to -instil into thy mind the first principles of supply and demand, and -that grandest law of political economy--to wit, if there are too many -poor people in a neighbourhood, they must be starved out of it into -one where they will not be in the way; and if there are too many poor -people in the entire world, they must be starved out of that also into -another, where there'll be more room for them! And what was thy answer -to the chairman's remark, "Doctor, if mutton and gin are the only -medicines that will cure the sick poor, you must supply them -yourself, in accordance with your contract"? What was thy answer? Why, -a shower of butchers' and vintners' bills, pulled from the pockets of -thy ancient gray coat--bills all receipted, and showing that, before -asking the ratepayers for a doit, thou hadst expended every penny of -thy salary of L150 on mutton and gin, beef and wine--for the sick -poor! What a noble answer to a petty taunt! The chairman blushed. The -attorney hurried away, saying he had to be present at an auction. The -great majority of "the board" came to a resolution, engaging to -support you in your schemes for helping the poor through the bad year. -But the play was not yet at an end. Some rumours of what had occurred -at the board reaching the ears of a few poor peasants, they made bold -to thank thee for thy exertions in their behalf. How didst thou -receive them?--With a violent harrangue against their incorrigible -laziness and dishonesty--an assurance that half their sufferings -sprung from their own vices--and a vehement declaration that, far from -speaking a good word for them to the guardians, thou didst counsel the -sternest and cruellest of measures. - -A man of another mould and temper was the writer's dear friend, Felix. -Gentle and ardent, tranquil as a summer evening, and unyielding as a -rock, modest but brave, unobtrusive but fearless, he had a mind that -poets only could rightly read. Delicate in frame, as he was refined in -intellect, he could not endure rude exertion or vulgar pleasure. -Active in mind, he still possessed a vein of indolence, thoroughly -appreciating the pleasure of dreaming the whole day long on a sunny -chair in a garden, surrounded with bright flowers and breathing a -perfumed air. In the hot season the country people used to watch their -doctor traversing the country in his capacious phaeton. Alone, without -a servant by his side, he held the reins in his hands, but in his -reveries altogether forgot to use them. Sometimes he would fall -asleep, and travel for miles in a state of unconsciousness, his great -phlegmatic horse pounding the dust at the rate of five miles an hour. -The somni-driverous doctor never came to harm. His steed knew how to -keep on the left-hand side of the road, under ordinary circumstances -passing all vehicles securely, but never thinking of overtaking any; -and the country people, amongst whom the doctor spent his days, made -his preservation from bodily harm an object of their especial care. -Often did a rustic wayfarer extricate the doctor's equipage from a -perilous position, and then send it onwards without disturbing the -gentleman by waking him. The same placid, equable man was Felix in -society, that he was on these professional excursions--nothing -alarming or exciting him. It was in his study that the livelier -elements of his nature came into play. Those who, for the first time, -conversed with him in private on his microscopic and chemical -pursuits, his researches in history, or his labours in speculative or -natural philosophy, caught fire from his fire and were inspired with -his enthusiasm. - -Felix belonged to a class daily becoming more numerous; Miles was of a -species that has already become rare--the army surgeon. The -necessities of the long war caused the enrolment of numbers of young -men in the ranks of the medical profession, whose learning was not -their highest recommendation to respect. An old navy surgeon, of no -small wit, and an infinite capacity for the consumption of strong -liquors--wine, brandy, whisky, usquebaugh (anything, so long as it was -strong)--gave a graphic description to this writer of his examination -on things pertaining to surgery by the Navy Board. - -"Well," said the narrator, putting down his empty glass and filling it -again with Madeira--"I was shown into the examination-room. Large -table, and half-a-dozen old gentlemen at it. 'Big-wigs, no doubt,' -thought I; 'and sure as my name is Symonds, they'll pluck me like a -pigeon.' - -"'Well, sir, what do you know about the science of your profession?' -asked the stout man in the chair. - -"'More than he does of the practice, I'll be bound,' tittered a little -wasp of a dandy--a West End ladies' doctor. - -"I trembled in my shoes. - -"'Well, sir,' continued the stout man, 'what would you do if a man was -brought to you during action with his arms and legs shot off? Now, -sir, don't keep the Board waiting! What would you do? Make haste!' - -"'By Jove, sir!' I answered--a thought just striking me--'I should -pitch him overboard, and go on to some one else I could be of more -service to.' - -"By -- --! every one present burst out laughing; and they passed me -directly, sir--passed me directly!" - -The examiners doubtless felt that a young man who could manifest such -presence of mind on such an occasion, and so well reply to a -terrorizing question, might be trusted to act wisely on other -emergencies. - -Many stories of a similar kind are very old acquaintances of most of -our readers. - -"What"--an examiner of the same Board is reported to have said to a -candidate--"would you have recourse to if, after having ineffectually -tried all the ordinary diaphoretics, you wanted to throw your patient, -in as short a time as possible, into a profuse perspiration?" - -"I should send him here, sir, to be examined," was the reply. - -Not less happy was the audacity of the medical student to Abernethy. - -"What would you do," bluntly inquired the surgeon, "if a man was -brought to you with a broken leg?" - -"Set it, sir," was the reply. - -"Good--very good--you're a very pleasant, witty young man; and -doubtless you can tell me what muscles of my body I should set in -motion if I kicked you, as you deserve to be kicked, for your -impertinence." - -"You would set in motion," responded the youth, with perfect coolness, -"the flexors and extensors of my right arm; for I should immediately -knock you down." - -If the gentlemen so sent forth to kill and cure were not overstocked -with professional learning, they soon acquired a knowledge of their -art in that best of all schools--experience. At the conclusion of the -great war they were turned loose upon the country, and from their body -came many of the best and most successful practitioners of every -county of the kingdom. The race is fast dying out. A Waterloo banquet -of medical officers, serving in our army at that memorable battle, -would at the present time gather together only a small number of -veterans. This writer can remember when they were plentiful; and, in -company with two or three of the best of their class, he spent many of -the happiest days of his boyhood. An aroma of old camp life hung about -them. They rode better horses, and more boldly, than the other doctors -round about. However respectable they might have become with increased -years and prosperity, they retained the military knack of making -themselves especially comfortable under any untoward combination of -external circumstances. To gallop over a bleak heath, through the cold -fog of a moonless December night; to sit for hours in a stifling -garret by a pauper's pallet; to go for ten days without sleeping on a -bed, without undressing, and with the wear of sixteen hours out of -every twenty-four spent on horseback--were only features of "duty," -and therefore to be borne manfully, and with generous endurance, at -the time--and, in the retrospect, to be talked of with positive -contentment and hilarity. They loved the bottle, too--as it ought to -be loved: on fit occasions drinking any given quantity, and, in -return, giving any quantity to drink; treating claret and the thinner -wines with a levity at times savouring of disdain; but having a deep -and unvarying affection for good sound port, and, at the later hours, -very hot and very strong whisky and water, _with_ a slice of lemon in -each tumbler. How they would talk during their potations! What stories -and songs! George the Fourth (even according to his own showing) had -scarce more to do in bringing about the victory at Waterloo than -they. Lord Anglesey's leg must have been amputated thrice; for this -writer knew three surgeons who each--separately and by himself--performed -the operation. But this sort of boasting was never indulged in before -the --th tumbler. - -May a word not be here said on the toping country doctor? Shame on -these times! ten years hence one will not be able to find a bibulous -apothecary, though search be made throughout the land from Dan to -Beersheba! Sailors, amongst the many superstitions to which they cling -with tenacity, retain a decided preference for an inebrious to a sober -surgeon. Not many years since, in a fishing village on the eastern -coast, there flourished a doctor in great repute amongst the poor; and -his influence over his humble patients literally depended on the fact -that he was sure, once in the four-and-twenty hours, to be handsomely -intoxicated. Charles Dickens has told the public how, when he bought -the raven immortalised in "Barnaby Rudge," the vendor of that -sagacious bird, after enumerating his various accomplishments and -excellences, concluded, "But, sir, if you want him to come out very -strong, you must show him a drunk man." The simple villagers of -Flintbeach had a firm faith in the strengthening effects of looking at -a tipsy doctor. They always postponed their visits to Dr. Mutchkin -till evening, because then they had the benefit of the learned man in -his highest intellectual condition. "Dorn't goo to he i' the mornin', -er can't doctor noways to speak on tills er's had a glass," was the -advice invariably given to a stranger not aware of the doctor's little -peculiarities. - -Mutchkin was unquestionably a shrewd fellow, although he did his best -to darken the light with which nature had endowned him. One day, -accompanied by his apprentice, he visited a small tenant farmer who -had been thrown on his bed with a smart attack of bilious fever. After -looking at his patient's tongue and feeling his pulse, he said -somewhat sharply:-- - -"Ah! 'tis no use doing what's right for you, if you will be so -imprudent." - -"Goodness, doctor, what do you mean?" responded the sick man; "I have -done nothing imprudent." - -"What!--nothing imprudent? Why, bless me, man, you have had green peas -for dinner." - -"So I have, sir. But how did you find that out?" - -"In your pulse--in your pulse. It was very foolish. Mind, you mayn't -commit such an indiscretion again. It might cost you your life." - -The patient, of course, was impressed with Mutchkin's acuteness, and -so was the apprentice. When the lad and his master had retired, the -former asked:-- - -"How did you know he had taken peas for dinner, sir? Of course it -wasn't his pulse that told you." - -"Why, boy," the instructor replied, "I saw the pea-shells that had -been thrown into the yard, and I drew my inference." - -The hint was not thrown away on the youngster. A few days afterwards, -being sent to call on the same case, he approached the sick man, and, -looking very observant, felt the pulse. - -"Ah!--um--by Jove!" exclaimed the lad, mimicking his master's manner, -"this is very imprudent. It may cost you your life. Why, man, you've -eaten a horse for your dinner." - -The fever patient was so infuriated with what he naturally regarded as -impertinence, that he sent a pathetic statement of the insult offered -him to Mutchkin. On questioning his pupil as to what he meant by -accusing a man, reduced with sickness, of having consumed so large and -tough an animal, the doctor was answered-- - -"Why, sir, as I passed through from the yard I saw the saddle hanging -up in the kitchen." - -This story is a very ancient one. It may possibly be found in one of -the numerous editions of Joe Miller's facetiae. The writer has, -however, never met with it in print, and the first time he heard it, -Dr. Mutchkin, of Flintbeach, was made to figure in it in the matter -above described. - -The shrewdness of Mutchkin's apprentice puts us in mind of the -sagacity of the hydropathic doctor, mentioned in the "Life of Mr -Assheton Smith." A gentleman devoted to fox-hunting and deep potations -was induced, by the master of the Tedworth Hunt, to have recourse to -the water cure, and see if it would not relieve him of chronic gout, -and restore something of the freshness of youth. The invalid acted on -the advice, and in obedience to the directions of a hydropathic -physician, proceeded to swathe his body, upon going to his nightly -rest, with wet bandages. The air was chill, and the water -looked--very--cold. The patient shivered as his valet puddled the -bandages about in the cold element. He paused, as a schoolboy does, -before taking his first "header" for the year on a keen May morning; -and during the pause much of his noble resolve oozed away. - -"John," at last he said to his valet, "put into that d---- water half -a dozen bottles of port wine, to warm it." - -John having carried out the direction, the bandages, saturated with -port wine and water, were placed round the corpulent trunk of the -invalid. The next morning the doctor, on paying his visit and -inspecting the linen swathes, instead of expressing astonishment at -their discoloration with the juice of the grape, observed, with the -utmost gravity:-- - -"Ah, the system is acting beautifully. See, the port wine is already -beginning to leave you!" - -A different man from Dr. Mutchkin was jovial Ambrose Harvey. Twenty -years ago no doctor throughout his county was more successful--no man -more beloved. By natural strength of character he gained leave from -society to follow his own humours without let, hindrance, or censure. -Ladies did not think the less highly of his professional skill because -he visited them in pink, and left their bedsides to ride across the -country with Lord Cheveley's hounds. Six feet high, handsome, hearty, -well-bred, Ambrose had a welcome wherever there was joy or sickness. -To his little wife he was devotedly attached and very considerate; and -she in return was very fond, and--what with woman is the same -thing--very jealous of him. He was liked, she well knew, by the -country ladies, many of whom were so far her superiors in rank and -beauty and accomplishments, that it was only natural in the good -little soul to entertain now and then a suspicious curiosity about the -movements of her husband. Was it nothing but the delicate health of -Lady Ellin that took him so frequently to Hove Hall? How it came -about, from what charitable whisperings on the part of kind friends, -from what workings of original sin in her own gentle breast, it would -be hard to say; but 'tis a fact that, when Hove Hall was mentioned, a -quick pain seized the little wife's heart and colour left her cheek, -to return again quickly, and in increased quantity. The time came when -she discovered the groundlessness of her fears, and was deeply -thankful that she had never, in any unguarded moment, by clouded brow, -or foolish tears, or sharp reply, revealed the folly of her heart. -Just at the time that Mrs. Ambrose was in the midst of this trial of -her affection, Ambrose obtained her permission to drive over to a town -twelve miles distant, to attend the hunt dinner. The night of that -dinner was a memorable one with the doctor's wife. Ambrose had -promised to be home at eleven o'clock. But twelve had struck, and here -he had not returned. One o'clock--two o'clock! No husband! The -servants had been sent to bed four hours ago; and Mrs. Ambrose sate -alone in her old wainscotted parlour, with a lamp by her side, sad, -and pale, and feverish--as wakeful as the house-dog out of doors, that -roamed round the house, barking out his dissatisfaction at the -prolonged absence of his master. - -At length, at half-past two, a sound of wheels was at the door, and in -another minute Ambrose entered the hall, and greeted his little wife. -Ah, Mrs. Ellis, this writer will not pain you by entering into details -in this part of his story. In defence of Ambrose, let it be said that -it was the only time in all his married life that he paid too -enthusiastic homage to the god of wine. Something he mumbled about -being tired, and having a headache, and then he walked, not -over-steadily, upstairs. Poor Mrs. Ambrose! It was not any good asking -_him_, what had kept him out so late. Incensed, frightened, and -jealous, the poor little lady could not rest. She must have one doubt -resolved. Where had her husband been all this time? Had he been round -by Hove Hall? Had she reflected, she would have seen his Bacchic -drowsiness was the best possible evidence that he had not come from a -lady's drawing-room. But jealousy is love's blindness. A thought -seized the little woman's head; she heard the step of Ambrose's man in -the kitchen, about to retire to rest. Ah, he could tell her. A word -from him would put all things right. Quick as thought, without -considering her own or her husband's dignity, the angry little wife -hastened down-stairs, and entered the kitchen where John was paying -his respects to some supper and mild ale that had been left out for -him. As evil fortune would have it, the step she had taken to mend -matters made them worse. - -"Oh, John," said the lady, telling a harmless fib, "I have just come -to see if cook left you out a good supper." - -John--most civil and trustworthy of grooms--rose, and posing himself -on his heels, made a respectful obeisance to his mistress, not a -little surprised at her anxiety for his comfort. But, alas! the -potations at the hunt-dinner had not been confined to the gentlemen of -the hunt. John had, in strong ale, taken as deep draughts of gladness -as Ambrose had in wine. At a glance his mistress saw the state of the -case, and in her fright, losing all caution, put her question -point-blank, and with imperious displeasure--"John, where have you and -your master been?--tell me instantly." - -An admirable servant--honest and well-intentioned at all times--just -then confused and loquacious--John remembered him how often his master -had impressed upon him that it was his duty not to gossip about the -places he stopped at in his rounds, as professional secrecy was a -virtue scarcely less necessary in a doctor's man-servant than in a -doctor. Acting on a muddle-headed reminiscence of his instructions, -John reeled towards his mistress, endeavouring to pacify her with a -profusion of duteous bobbings of the head, and in a tone of piteous -sympathy, and with much incoherence, made this memorable answer to her -question: "I'm very sorry, mum, and I do hope, mum, you won't be -angry. I allus wish to do you my best duty--that I do, mum--and you're -a most good, affable missus, and I, and cook, and all on us are very -grateful to you." - -"Never mind that. Where have you and your master been? That's my -question." - -"Indeed, mum--I darnatellye, it would bes goodasmeplace wi' master. I -dare not say where we ha' been. For master rekwested me patikler not -to dewulge." - -But thou hadst not wronged thy wife. It was not thine to hurt any -living thing, dear friend. All who knew thee will bear witness that to -thee, and such as thee, Crabbe pointed not his bitter lines:-- - - "But soon a loud and hasty summons calls, - Shakes the thin roof, and echoes round the walls; - Anon a figure enters, quaintly neat, - All pride and business, bustle and conceit, - With looks unalter'd by these scenes of woe, - With speed that entering speaks his haste to go; - He bids the gazing throng around him fly, - And carries Fate and Physic in his eye; - A potent quack, long versed in human ills, - Who first insults the victim whom he kills, - Whose murd'rous hand a drowsy bench protect, - And whose most tender mercy is neglect. - Paid by the Parish for attendance here, - He wears contempt upon his sapient sneer. - In haste he seeks the bed where misery lies, - Impatience mark'd in his averted eyes; - And, some habitual queries hurried o'er, - Without reply, he rushes to the door; - His drooping patient, long inured to pain, - And long unheeded, knows remonstrance vain; - He ceases now the feeble help to crave - Of man, and mutely hastens to the grave." - - - THE END. - - - - -INDEX. - - - Abernethy, Dr. John, 48, 158, 159, 180, 213, 214, 216, 375, 407. - - Abernethy, Biscuit, 162. - - Addington, Dr. Anthony, 394. - - Agricola, Dr., 496. - - Agrippa, Cornelius, 87. - - Aikin, Dr., 48, 428. - - Ailhaud's Powder, 102. - - Akenside, Dr., 327, 381. - - Albemarle, Duke of, 54, 118. - - Alexander, William, 320. - - Allan, 43. - - Alston, Sir Richard, 257. - - Alured, Thomas, 274. - - Andrew, Merry, 29, 422. - - Anne, Queen, 92, 93, 94, 116, 117, 119, 131, 163, 189, 242, 262. - - Anthony, Dr. Francis, 467. - - Antiochus, 168. - - Arbuthnot, Dr., 62, 72, 132, 138, 144, 163, 186, 187, 190, 191, 192. - - Archer, Dr. John, 148, 149, 150, 225. - - Argent, Dr., 17. - - Armstrong, Dr., 426. - - Arnold, Dr., 345. - - Askew, Dr., 10, 244. - - Atkins, Dr. Henry, 66, 204. - - Atkins, Will, 15. - - Aubrey, John, 25, 464. - - Augustus, 13, 168. - - Ayliffe, Sir John, 165, 166. - - Ayre, William, 74. - - - Bacon, Lord, 82, 255, 287. - - Baillie, Dr., 10, 244, 394. - - Baker, Dr., 161, 332. - - Ballow, Mr., 381. - - Baltrop, Dr. Robert, 29. - - Bancroft, Dr. John, 139. - - Barber--surgeons, 12. - - Baring, Sir F., 178. - - Barrowby, Dr., 155, 156. - - Barrymore, Lord, 154. - - Bartley, Dr., 29. - - Barton, Mr. 278. - - Bayle, Dr., 78. - - Beauclerc, Lady Vere, 289. - - Beauford, Dr., 154, 155. - - Beauford, Thomas, 474. - - Beckford, 45. - - Beddoes, Dr. 146. - - Bedford, Duke of, 96, 309. - - Behn, Afra, 200. - - Bennet, Dr., 382. - - Bentham, Jeremy, 397. - - Bentley, 184, 185, 252. - - Berkeley, Bishop, 96. - - Berry, Miss, 318. - - Betterton, 139. - - Bickersteth, Dr. Henry, 396. - - Bidloe, Dr., 118. - - Blackmore, Sir Richard, 39, 51, 73, 74, 113, 115, 117, 186, - 193, 375, 427. - - Bleeding, 225. - - Blizard, Sir William, 114, 245. - - Blood, Mrs., 309. - - Blount, Col., 195. - - Bohn, Mr., 26. - - Bond, John, M. A., 183. - - Borcel, William de, 55. - - Borde, Andrew, 29, 423, 479. - - Boswell, James, 140, 308, 333, 339, 463. - - Boulter, Mr., 473. - - Bourdier, Dr., 205. - - Bouvart, Dr., 169. - - Boydell, Mary, 408. - - Boyle, Mr., 57, 58, 272, 467. - - Brennen, Dr. John, 386. - - Brocklesby, Dr., 16, 211, 381. - - Brodie, Sir Benjamin, 107, 166, 366, 370. - - Bruce, Robert, 193. - - Browne, Sir Thomas, 38. - - Buckle, Mr., 333. - - Buckingham, Duchess of, 152. - - Buckingham, Duke of, 47, 58. - - Buckinghampshire, Countess of, 370. - - Bulleyn, Richard, 37. - - Bulleyn, Dr. William, 25, 26, 29, 37, 64, 165, 229. - - Bungalo, Prof., 92. - - Buns, Dr., 29. - - Burke, Edmund, 211, 441. - - Burnet, Gilbert, 131. - - Burton, Dr., 67. - - Burton, Robert, 263, 428. - - Burton, Sim, 292. - - Busby, Dr., 9. - - Butler, Dr., 211. - - Butler, Samuel, 260. - - Butler, Dr. William, 25, 179. - - Butts, Sir William, 25, 164, 166. - - Byron, Lord, 193, 328. - - - Cadogan, Lord, 290, 393. - - Cains, 22. - - Calfe, Thomas, 29. - - Chambre, Dr. John, 21. - - Campan, Madame, 283. - - Campanella, Thomas, 13, 264. - - Cane, 11. - - Canker, 33. - - Canning, 421. - - Cardan, 264. - - Caroline, Queen, 174. - - Carr, Dr., 29. - - Carriages, 17. - - Carteret, George, 55. - - Case, John, 167. - - Cashin, Catherine, 364, 370. - - Catherine, Empress, 179. - - Cavendish, Lord C., 161. - - Chalon, Comtesse de, 349. - - Charles I., 23, 42, 173, 204. - - " II., 15, 17, 23, 38, 40, 57, 148, 157, 173, 174, 234, 472. - - " VI., 221. - - " IX., 173. - - " XI., 203. - - Charleton, Dr., 58. - - Chartres, Francis, 191. - - Chatham, Earl of, 394. - - Chaucer, 20. - - Cheke, Sir John, 138. - - Chemberline, 79. - - Cheselden, Dr., 68, 215, 292. - - Chester, Richard, 332. - - Chesterfield, Lord, 233, 314. - - Cheyne, Dr., 146, 247, 377, 399. - - Cholmondley, Miss, 238. - - Churchill, General, 180, 290. - - Clarke, Mr., 233. - - Clarke, Sir James, 18, 107. - - Clermont, Lady, 349. - - Clopton, Roger, 312. - - Coakley, Dr., 339. - - Codrington, Col., 195, 199. - - Cogan, Dr., 428. - - Coke, 11. - - Coldwell, Dr., 229. - - Coleridge, S. T., 41. - - Coles, William, 178. - - Collier, Jeremy, 200. - - Collington, Sir James, 193. - - Colombeire, De la, 380. - - Combermer, Lord, 393. - - Congreve, 201. - - Conolly, Dr., 221. - - Conway, Lady, 271, 272. - - Conway, Lord, 273. - - Cooper, Sir Astley, 13, 70, 177, 362, 375. - - Cooper, Bransby, 375. - - Cooper, Dr. William, 216. - - Cordus, Euricus, 168. - - Cordus, Valerius, 65. - - Cornwallis, Lord, 290. - - Corvisart, Dr., 205. - - Cotgrave, 85. - - Coytier, Dr., 203. - - Crabbe, George, 436. - - Cranworth, Lord, 311, 320. - - Creswell, Sir Creswell, 485. - - Croft, Sir Richard, 394. - - Cromwell, 83. - - Crossfield, Thomas, 435. - - Crowe, Mrs., 290. - - Cruikshank, George, 413. - - " Dr., 211. - - Cudworth, Dr., 272. - - Cullum, Sir Thomas Geery, 398. - - Cumberland, Earl of, 171. - - Curran, John Philpot, 213. - - Curray, Dr. "Calomel," 162. - - Cutler, Sir John, 472. - - - Dalmahoy, Colonel, 15. - - Darrell, Lady, 33, 165. - - Darwin, Dr. Erasmus, 428. - - Davy, Sir Humphrey, 59, 60, 61, 62, 429. - - Davy, Lady, 62. - - Dawson, John, 406. - - Dawson, Dr. Thomas, 406. - - Dee, Dr., 42. - - Delaune, 471. - - Denman, Dr. Joseph, 394. - - Denman, Lord, 393, 394. - - Dennis, 375. - - Denton, Dr., 272. - - Derby, Edward, Earl of, 44, 165. - - De Rothes, Countess, 398. - - Derwentwater, Earl of, 111. - - Desault, 13. - - Desmond, Countess of, 254. - - Devonshire, Duchess, 349. - - D'Ewes, Sir Symonds, 480. - - Diamond, Dr., 41, 321, 434. - - Dickens, Charles, 503. - - Digby, Sir Everard, 42. - - Digby, Sir Kenelm, 38, 57, 58, 282. - - Dilly, Charles, 339. - - Dimsdale, Dr., 179. - - Dioscorides, 64. - - Dodds, James, 357. - - Dodsley, 328. - - Doran, John, 167, 466. - - Dorset, Richard, Earl of, 343. - - Douglas, Sylvester, 395. - - Drake, Dr. James, 125. - - Dryden, John, 38, 74, 194, 197, 201, 379. - - Dubois, Dr., 205. - - Ducrow, Andrew, 372. - - Dumeny, 381. - - Dumoulin, Dr., 104. - - Dunoyer, Madame, 380. - - Dureux, Madame, 381. - - Dwyer, J. W., 277. - - Dyson, Dr., 328. - - - Edmunds, Dr., 29. - - Edward I., 40. - - " II., 258. - - " III., 166, 170, 476. - - " VI., 21, 173. - - Edwards, Dr., 29. - - Edwards, George, 56. - - Eliot, Sir John, 402, 403, 408. - - Elizabeth, Queen, 40, 164, 173, 203. - - Elliot, Sir Thomas, 29, 33, 165, 229. - - Elmy, Sarah, 438. - - Elton, Sir Marwood, 393. - - Embrocations, 30. - - Ent, Dr., 58. - - Erasistratus, 168. - - Erskine, 180, 194. - - Eugene, Prince, 153. - - Evelyn, John, 57, 174. - - Everard, Dr., 150, 225. - - - Faber, Dr., 272. - - Fairclough, Dr. James, 272, 274. - - Faire, Thomas, 29. - - Fallopius, Gabriel, 144. - - Fees, 163. - - Ferriar, Dr., 428. - - Fielding, Beau, 42, 186. - - Fielding, Henry, 96, 316. - - Fielding, Sir John, 316. - - Flemyng, Dr., 146. - - Fludd, Dr. Robert, 422, 436. - - Fludd, Dr. Thomas, 435. - - Foote, Samuel, 463. - - Ford, Charles, 132. - - Fordyce, Dr. George, 153. - - Forster, Dr., 320. - - Fothergill, Dr. John, 207, 335, 337. - - Fox, Charles James, 430. - - Fox, Simeon, 17. - - Francis II., 173. - - French, Mrs., 288. - - Frere, Dr., 29. - - Freind, Dr., 152, 186, 251, 252, 318, 375. - - Froissart, 221. - - Fuller, Thomas, 25, 180. - - - Gaddesden, John of, 258. - - Galen, 13. - - Galileo, 369. - - Gardiner, Joseph, 292. - - Garrick, David, 314. - - Garth, Sir Samuel, 63, 92, 113, 152, 186, 194, 199, 333, - 375, 376, 433, 472. - - Gascoigne, Sir William, 33, 165. - - Gaskin, Dr., 155. - - Gay, John, 186. - - Geber, 255. - - Gee, Dr., 29. - - George I., 243. - - " III., 160, 173, 174, 340, 350, 431. - - " IV., 170, 173. - - Germain, Lord George, 402. - - Getseus, John Daniel, 265. - - Gibbons, Dr., 113, 117, 139, 152, 375. - - Gilbert, Dr., 276. - - Gisborne, Dr. Thomas, 394. - - Gloucester, Duke of, 118. - - Glynn, Dr., 162, 208, 400. - - Goddard, Dr., 58. - - Godolphin, Sir John, 272, 313, 316. - - Goldsmith, Oliver, 86, 115, 185, 189, 426. - - Good, Dr. Mason, 428. - - Goodwin, Mr., 78. - - Gordonius, 13. - - Gout, 23. - - Gower, Lord, 156. - - Grafton, Duke of, 317. - - Graham, Dr. James, 345, 350, 351. - - Grainger, 427. - - Grant, Roger, 94, 95. - - Gray, Thomas, 333. - - Greatrakes, Valentine, 265-273. - - Greaves, Sir Edmund, 55. - - Green, Richard, 439. - - Gregory, Dr. James, 193, 209. - - Grenville, Lord, 207. - - Grey, Dr., 479. - - Griffith, Mrs., 426. - - Gungeland, Coursus de, 170. - - Guy, Thomas, 466, 470. - - Guyllyam, Dr., 221. - - Gwynn, Nell, 157. - - Gyer, Nicholas, 228. - - - Hale, Dr., 252. - - Hales, Stephen, 291. - - Halford, Sir Henry, 173, 393, 421. - - Halifax, Charley, 486. - - Halley, Dr., 185. - - Hamey, Baldwin, 63. - - Hamilton, Sir William, 348. - - Hancock, The Rev. John, 95. - - Handel, 161. - - Hannes, Sir Edward, 113, 114, 115, 249, 375, 384. - - Harrington, Dr., 429. - - Harris, Sir Edward, 265. - - Harris, Edmund, 265. - - Hartley, Dr. D., 292. - - Hartman, George, 45. - - Harvey, Dr. John, 24, 369. - - Harvey, Dr. Ambrose, 506. - - Harward, Simon, 228. - - Hastings, Mrs. Sarah, 288. - - Hatcher, Dr., 29, 164. - - Haveningham, Sir Anthony, 33, 165. - - Hawkins, Dr. C., 292. - - Hawkins, Sir John, 330. - - Haygarth, Dr., 277. - - Hearne, Thomas, 225, 423. - - Heberden, Dr. W., 51, 53, 161, 211. - - Hel, Dr. Maximilian, 283. - - Henry III., 40, 173. - - " IV., 23, 173. - - " VII., 21. - - " VIII., 21, 164, 171, 422, 468. - - Heraclius, Prince, 303. - - Herfurth, Earl of, 166. - - Hermes, 9, 11. - - Hertford, Marquis of, 235. - - Hill, Sir John, 59, 398, 479. - - Hill, Sir Rowland, 490. - - Hilton, Sir Thomas, 36. - - Hilton, William, 36. - - Hippocrates, 226. - - Hobart, Sir Nathaniel, 272. - - Hogarth, 463, 468. - - Hook, Mrs., 99. - - Horace, 308. - - Howe, Dr., 212. - - Howell, James, 46. - - Hughes, Mary Ann, 99. - - Hulse, Dr. Edward, 72, 252. - - Hunter, Dr. John, 23, 215, 295, 355, 369, 375, 405, 413. - - Hunter, Dr. William, 175. - - Huyck, Dr., 29. - - Hyatt, Mr., 178. - - - Ingestre, Lord, 370. - - Inverness, Lady, 303. - - Ivan, Dr., 205. - - - James I., 42, 47, 173, 204, 225, 471, 479. - - " II., 198. - - " IV., 166. - - James, Dr., 251. - - Jebb, Dr. John, 160. - - Jebb, Sir Richard, 159, 160, 205. - - Jeffcott, Sir John, 384. - - Jeffries, Dr., 383. - - Jenkins, Henry, 254. - - Jenner, Dr. Edward, 295, 369, 375, 488. - - Jermaine, Lady Betty, 289. - - Johnson, Samuel, 16, 39, 53, 67, 115, 140, 194, 201, 232, - 239, 262, 308, 330, 333, 427, 463. - - Jonson, Ben, 42, 44. - - Joseph, Emperor, 179. - - Jurin, Dr. James, 184. - - - Katterfelts, Dr., 103. - - Kavanaugh, Lady Harriet, 370. - - Kaye, John, 22, 29. - - Keats, John, 436. - - Keill, 184. - - Kellet, Alexander, 181. - - Kemp, Dr. Mitchell, 415. - - Kennix, Margaret, 288. - - King, Sir Edmund, 72, 113, 117, 234. - - King, Dr., 299. - - Kingsdown, Lord, 393, 394. - - Kitchener, Dr., 42. - - Kahn, Thamas Kouli, 303. - - Kneller, Sir Godfrey, 118, 119. - - Knightley, Sir Richard, 203. - - Kunyngham, Dr. William, 29. - - - Lambert, Daniel, 145. - - Langdale, Lord, 396. - - Langton, Dr., 19, 29. - - Lawrence, Sir Thomas, 358. - - Lax, Mr., 278. - - Leake, Robert, 247. - - Lettsom, Dr. John Coakley, 178, 207, 335, 375, 385. - - Levit, John, 78, 252. - - Levitt, William Springall, 438. - - Lewis, Jenkin, 115. - - Lewis, M. G., 411. - - Linacre, 22, 29, 138. - - Lloyd, Mrs., 369. - - Locke, Dr. John, 421. - - Locock, Dr., 287. - - Lodge, Edmund, 43. - - Long, John St. John, 356, 402. - - Louis XIII., 23, 173. - - " XIV., 205, 235. - - Louis XV., 146. - - Loutherbourg, Mr. and Mrs., 97, 98, 99, 100, 101. - - Lovell, Dr., 277. - - Lovkin, Dr., 29. - - Lower, Dr., 157. - - Lowther, Sir James, 290. - - Ludford, Dr. Simon, 29. - - Luff, Dr., 113. - - - Macartney, Dr., 370. - - Macaulay, Catherine, 345. - - M'Dougal, Peter, 108, 109, 110. - - Macilwain, George, 214, 375. - - Mackintosh, Lady, 303. - - Macnish, Dr., 436. - - Maecenas, 48. - - Mahomet, 83. - - Mandeville, 140. - - Manfield, Dr., 28. - - Manley, Mrs., 200. - - Mapletoft, Dr., 52. - - Mapp, Mrs., 295. - - Marie Louise, 205. - - Marlborough, Duke of, 77, 248, 313. - - " Duchess of, 140. - - Marshall, Dr., 112, 389. - - Martial, 186. - - Marvel, Andrew, 272. - - Mary, Queen, 175. - - Marwood, Dr., 393. - - Masham, Lady, 132, 137. - - Mason, William, 333. - - Masters, Dr., 29. - - Maupin, 381. - - Maxwell, Dr. William, 281. - - Mayerne, Sir Theodore, 23, 25, 48, 66, 146, 170. - - Mead, The Rev. Matthew, 240. - - Mead, Dr. Richard, 10, 68, 81, 97, 134, 136, 137, 142, 152, - 207, 239, 292, 377, 403, 434. - - Meade, Dr. William G., 254. - - Meagrim, Molly, 354. - - Mercurius, 11. - - Mercury, 9. - - Meredith, Sir Amos, 373. - - Mesmer, Dr. Frederick Anthony, 256, 264, 265, 275, 280, 345. - - Messenger, Elizabeth, 312. - - Messenger, Thomas, 312. - - Migaldus, 264. - - Miller, Joseph, 143. - - Millingen, Dr., 382, 429. - - Millington, Sir Thomas, 72. - - Moir, Dr., 436. - - Monsey, Dr. Messenger, 311. - - Monsey, Dr. Robert, 312. - - Montague, Lord, 42. - - " Mrs., 318, 321. - - Montaigne, 263. - - Moore, Dr. E. D., 491. - - Moore, Rev. Giles, 481. - - Moore, Dr. John, 428. - - Morgan, Hugo, 203. - - Morrison, Mr., 83. - - Morrison's pills, 373. - - Moseley, Dr., 489. - - Moussett, Dr., 21. - - Munchausen, 236. - - Murphy, Arthur, 463. - - Musa, Antonius, 13. - - Mutchkin, Dr., 503. - - Myersbach, Dr., 102. - - Myrepsus, Nicholas, 65. - - - Napoleon, 205. - - Nash, Beau, 378. - - Nelson, Dr., 178. - - Nelson, Lord, 193. - - Nesbitt, Dr., 240, 292. - - Nesle, Marquise de, 381. - - Newton, Sir Isaac, 185, 252, 255. - - Nicholson, Anthony, 273. - - Noble, J. P., 277. - - Northumberland, Earl of, 44. - - Nutley, Billy, 125. - - - Opie, John, 433. - - Ormond, Marchioness, 368, 370. - - Orrery, Earl of, 266, 271. - - Osborn, Jack, 311. - - - Page, Mr., 438. - - Palmery, Dr., 236. - - Pannel, Dr. Thomas, 29. - - Paracelsus, 226, 256, 257, 264. - - Pare, Ambrose, 173. - - Park, Judge, 367. - - Parnell, 186. - - Parr, Samuel, 67, 345, 494. - - Paris, Sir Philip, 165. - - Paris, Sir William, 33, 66. - - Pedagogues, 183. - - Peel, Sir Robert, 397. - - Pellet, Dr. Thomas, 241, 292. - - Pemberton, Dr. Edward, 395. - - Penie, Dr., 229. - - Pepys, Sir Lucas, 238, 394, 397. - - Pepys, Samuel, 465. - - Percy, Thomas, 44, 427. - - Perkins's tractors, 276, 283. - - Pettigrew, Dr., 375. - - Phillips, 285. - - Phreas, Dr. John, 20. - - Pindar, Peter, 430. - - Pitcairn, Dr., 20, 244. - - Placaton, Johannes, 65. - - Plasters, 30. - - Polhill, David, 241. - - Polignac, Countess, 381. - - Pooley, Thomas, 274. - - Pope, Alexander, 53, 67, 68, 93, 186, 190, 194, 198, 200, - 252, 318, 334, 370, 473. - - Popple, W., 274. - - Porter, Dr. John, 29. - - Portland, Earl of, 118. - - Pratt, Mary, 97, 98, 99, 100. - - Precious water, 30. - - Pringle, Sir John, 59, 161. - - - Quacks, 82. - - Quarin, Dr., 179. - - Quarrels, 374. - - - {~PRESCRIPTION TAKE~}., 11. - - Radcliffe, Dr. John, 10, 111, 152, 153, 204, 242, 243, 244, - 249, 314, 375, 403. - - Radnor, Lord, 232, 473. - - Rahere, Dr., 468. - - Raleigh, Sir Walter, 203. - - Ramadge, Dr., 370. - - Ranby, Mr., 316. - - Ranelagh, Lady, 273. - - Ranelagh, Lord, 398. - - Read, Henry, 254. - - Reade, Sir William, 93, 95. - - Redshaw, Mrs. Hannah, 123. - - Reynolds, Baron, 96, 180. - - Reynolds, Dr. Henry Revel, 13, 394. - - Reynolds, Sir Joshua, 427. - - Richardson, Daniel, 356, 357. - - Richelieu, 381. - - Robertson, William, 193. - - Robinson, Mr., 317. - - Robinson, Thomas, 98. - - Rochford, Earl of, 118. - - Rock, Dr., 212. - - Rogers, Tom, 225. - - Rolfe, The Rev. Edmund, 320. - - Rolfe, Robert Monsey, 320. - - Rose, Mr., 78. - - Rushe, Sir Thomas, 25. - - Rust, Dean, 273, 274. - - Rutland, Duke of, 441. - - - Saffold, Dr. Thomas, 90, 91. - - Sally, Crazy, 296. - - Sanders, Dr. Huck, 393. - - Saville, Sir George, 290. - - Savoy, Duke of, 235. - - Saxby, Dr., 330. - - Scott, Claude and Co., 363. - - Scott, Reginald, 229. - - Scott, Sir Walter, 50, 315. - - Sedley, Sir Charles, 195. - - Seleucus, 168. - - Seymour, Algernon, 398. - - Shandy, Mrs., 481. - - Sharp, Dr. Sam, 292. - - Shaw, Peter, 292. - - Sheffield, Lady, 238. - - Sheldon, Dr. John, 158. - - Shenstone, 39, 427. - - Sheppard, H. Fleetwood, 479. - - Sheridan, R. B., 395. - - Shirley, Dr. Thomas, 23. - - Short, Dr. Thomas, 117. - - Sidmouth, Lord, 393. - - Sligo, Lord, 368, 370. - - Sloane, Sir Hans, 51, 68, 72, 96, 161, 297, 393, 395, 421. - - Slop, Dr., 481. - - Smart, Dr., 316. - - Smith, Adam, 493. - - Smith, Sir William, 272. - - Smith, Dr., 383. - - Smithson, Sir Hugh, 398. - - Smollett, T. G., 69, 233, 333, 426. - - Soissons, Chevalier, 152. - - Somerset, Duke of, 398. - - Southcote, Joanna, 347. - - Spencer, Lady, 349. - - Sprat, Bishop, 129. - - Stafford, Dr., 145, 146. - - Standish, Dr., 484. - - Stanley, Sir Edward, 44. - - Stanley, Venetia, 43. - - Steele, Sir Richard, 101, 120, 199, 400, 428, 463. - - Stephens, Joanna, 288, 289. - - Sterne, Laurence, 193, 428, 481. - - Stowe, John, 19, 171. - - Strickland, Agnes, 243. - - Stuart, Charles Edward, 193. - - Stubbe, Dr. Henry, 169, 273. - - Sutcliffe, Dr., 335. - - Swartenburgh, Dr. Sieur, 153. - - Swift, Jonathan, 72, 73, 93, 132, 186, 187, 188, 197, 314, 375, 400. - - Sydenham, Dr., 51, 52. - - Sydney, Sir Philip, 42. - - Sympathetic powder, 45. - - - Tailor, Lady, 33, 165. - - Talbot, Sir G., 58, 381. - - Tantley, 378. - - Tatler, The, 126. - - Taylor, Chevalier, 297, 299, 310, 352, 355. - - Taylor, John, Jr., 302. - - Thackeray, 401. - - Theveneau, Dr., 236. - - Thompson, Dr., 67. - - Thornton, Bonnel, 14. - - Thurlow, Bishop, 355. - - Thurlow, Lord, 12. - - Tissot, 102. - - Tovell, John, 439. - - Townsend, Dr., 83. - - Trelawny, Sir William, 430. - - Trevor, Lord, 429. - - Tuke, Col., 37, 58. - - Turner, Dr., 29, 229. - - Turton, Dr. J., 161. - - Tyson of Hackney, 143. - - - Valleriola, 264. - - Van Buchell, Dr., 413. - - Vandeput, Sir George, 156. - - Vanninus, 264. - - Ventadour, M. De, 235. - - Vespasian, 261. - - Victoria, Dr. Fernandus de, 21. - - Victoria, Queen, 173. - - Villars, 105, 106, 107, 351. - - Von Ellekon, Dr., 283. - - - Wadd, Dr. William, 174, 228. - - Wakley, Mr., 366. - - Walker, Obadiah, 129, 130. - - Walpole, Horace, 234, 333. - - Walpole, Robert, 252, 314. - - Walsh, Dr., 380. - - Waltham, Mrs. Margaret, 481. - - Ward, 248, 295, 297, 308. - - Ward's pills, 96. - - Warren, Dr., 211, 394. - - Watson, Sir William, 161. - - Weatherby, Jo., 156. - - Wedderburne, 465. - - Weld, Charles, 57. - - Wellington, Duke of, 193. - - Wendy, Dr. Thomas, 29, 164. - - Whichot, Dr. Benjamin, 272, 274. - - Whistler, Dr., 113, 117. - - Whitaker, Dr. Tobias, 148. - - Whitefood, The Rev. John, 40. - - Wierus, 264. - - Wigs, 15. - - Wilkes, John, 381. - - Wilkins, Dr., 272. - - William III., 118, 119, 138, 198. - - " IV., 173. - - Williams, Dr., 382. - - Willis, Dr., 174, 394. - - Wilson, 217. - - Wingfield, Sir Robert, 37. - - Winslow, Dr. Forbes, 53, 321. - - Winston, Dr. Thomas, 63. - - Wolcot, John, 430. - - Wollaston, Dr. William Hyde, 59. - - Wolsey, Cardinal, 21. - - Wood, Anthony a, 55, 423. - - Woodhouse, The Hon. Francis, 298. - - Woodhouse, Mrs., 288. - - Woodville, Dr., 489. - - Woodward, Dr. John, 72, 248, 377. - - Wordsworth, William, 59. - - Wrench, Sir Benjamin, 313. - - Wynter, Dr., 377, 379. - - - Yaxley, Dr. Robert, 21. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's A Book about Doctors, by John Cordy Jeaffreson - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BOOK ABOUT DOCTORS *** - -***** This file should be named 40161.txt or 40161.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/0/1/6/40161/ - -Produced by Irma Spehar and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/40161.zip b/40161.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 1efaeb7..0000000 --- a/40161.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/40161.txt b/old/40161.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 17899a6..0000000 --- a/old/40161.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,16602 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Book about Doctors, by John Cordy Jeaffreson - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: A Book about Doctors - -Author: John Cordy Jeaffreson - -Release Date: July 8, 2012 [EBook #40161] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BOOK ABOUT DOCTORS *** - - - - -Produced by Irma pehar and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - -Transcriber's note: - -Spelling and punctuation are sometimes erratic. A few obvious -misprints have been corrected, but in general the original spelling -and typesetting conventions have been retained. Accents are -inconsistent, and have not been standardised. - -Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - -Text enclosed by equal signs is in bold face (=bold=). - -Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals. - - - - - THE DOCTOR'S - RECREATION SERIES - - CHARLES WELLS MOULTON - - _General Editor_ - - VOLUME FOUR - -[Illustration: _PROF. BILLROTH'S SURGICAL CLYNIC_ - -_A. F. SELLIGMANN, PINX._ - -_COPYRIGHT 1892 WM. WOOD & CO. NEW YORK_] - -[Illustration: title page] - - - - A Book About - DOCTORS - - By - - John Cordy Jeaffreson - - Author of "The Real Lord Byron," "The Real - Shelley," "A Book About Lawyers," - etc., etc. - - 1904 - - THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING CO. - - NEW YORK AKRON, O. CHICAGO - COPYRIGHT, 1904, - BY - THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY - - THE - WERNER COMPANY - AKRON, O. - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - PAGE. - - CHAPTER I. - Something about Sticks, and rather less about Wigs 5 - - CHAPTER II. - Early English Physicians 18 - - CHAPTER III. - Sir Thomas Browne and Sir Kenelm Digby 38 - - CHAPTER IV. - Sir Hans Sloane 51 - - CHAPTER V. - The Apothecaries and Sir Samuel Garth 63 - - CHAPTER VI. - Quacks 82 - - CHAPTER VII. - John Radcliffe 111 - - CHAPTER VIII. - The Doctor as a _bon-vivant_ 144 - - CHAPTER IX. - Fees 163 - - CHAPTER X. - Pedagogues turned Doctors 183 - - CHAPTER XI. - The Generosity and Parsimony of Physicians 202 - - CHAPTER XII. - Bleeding 225 - - CHAPTER XIII. - Richard Mead 239 - - CHAPTER XIV. - Imagination as a Remedial Power 255 - - CHAPTER XV. - Imagination and Nervous Excitement--Mesmer 280 - - CHAPTER XVI. - Make way for the Ladies! 287 - - CHAPTER XVII. - Messenger Monsey 311 - - CHAPTER XVIII. - Akenside 327 - - CHAPTER XIX. - Lettsom 335 - - CHAPTER XX. - A few More Quacks 345 - - CHAPTER XXI. - St. John Long 356 - - CHAPTER XXII. - The Quarrels of Physicians 374 - - CHAPTER XXIII. - The Loves of Physicians 393 - - CHAPTER XXIV. - Literature and Art 421 - - CHAPTER XXV. - Number Eleven--a Hospital Story 442 - - CHAPTER XXVI. - Medical Buildings 462 - - CHAPTER XXVII. - The Country Medical Man 478 - - - - - ILLUSTRATIONS. - - - PAGE - - PROF. BILLROTH'S SURGICAL CLYNIC[1]. _Frontispiece_ - _From the Original Painting by A. F. Seligmann._ - - THE FOUNDERS OF THE MEDICAL SOCIETY OF LONDON 228 - _From the Original Painting._ - - AN ACCIDENT[1] 258 - _From the Original Painting by Dagnan-Vouveret._ - - THE ANATOMIST 374 - _From the Original Painting by Max._ - - [1] Original by courtesy of William Wood & Co., New York. - - - - -PREFACE. - - -The writer of this volume has endeavoured to collect, in a readable -and attractive form, the best of those medical Ana that have been -preserved by tradition or literature. In doing so, he has not only -done his best to combine and classify old stories, but also cautiously -to select his materials, so that his work, while affording amusement -to the leisure hours of Doctors learned in their craft, might contain -no line that should render it unfit for the drawing-room table. To -effect this, it has been found necessary to reject many valuable and -characteristic anecdotes--some of them entering too minutely into the -mysteries and technicalities of medicine and surgery, and some being -spiced with a humour ill calculated to please the delicacy of the -nineteenth century. - -Much of the contents of this volume has never before been published, -but, after being drawn from a variety of manuscript sources, is now -for the first time submitted to the world. It would be difficult to -enumerate all the persons to whom the writer is indebted for access to -documents, suggestions, critical notes, or memoranda. He cannot, -however, let the present occasion go by without expressing his -gratitude to the College of Physicians, for the prompt urbanity with -which they allowed him to inspect the treasures of their library. To -Dr. Munk, the learned librarian of the College--who for many years, in -the scant leisure allowed him by the urgent demands of an extensive -practice, has found a dignified pastime in antiquarian and biographic -research--the writer's best thanks are due. With a liberality by no -means always found in a student possessed of "special information," -the Doctor surrendered his precious stores to the use of a comparative -stranger, apparently without even thinking of the value of his gift. -But even more than to the librarian of the College of Physicians the -writer is indebted for assistance to his very kind friend Dr. Diamond, -of Twickenham House--a gentleman who, to all the best qualities of a -complete physician, unites the graces of a scholarly mind, an -enthusiasm for art, and the fascinations of a generous nature. - - - - -A BOOK ABOUT DOCTORS - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -SOMETHING ABOUT STICKS, AND RATHER LESS ABOUT WIGS. - - -Properly treated and fully expanded, this subject of "the stick" would -cover all the races of man in all regions and all ages; indeed, it -would hide every member of the human family. Attention could be called -to the respect accorded in every chapter of the world's history, -sacred and profane, to the _rabdos_--to the fasces of the Roman -lictors, which every school-boy honours (often unconsciously) with an -allusion when he says he will _lick_, or vows he won't be -_licked_,--to the herald's staff of Hermes, the caduceus of Mercury, -the wand of AEsculapius, and the rods of Moses and the contending -sorcerers--to the mystic bundles of nine twigs, in honour of the nine -muses, that Dr. Busby loved to wield, and which many a simple English -parent believes Solomon, in all his glory, recommended as an element -in domestic jurisdiction--to the sacred wands of savage tribes, the -staffs of our constables and sheriffs, and the highly polished gold -sticks and black rods that hover about the anterooms of St. James's or -Portsoken. The rule of thumb has been said to be the government of -this world. And what is this thumb but a short stick, a _sceptre_, -emblematic of a sovereign authority which none dares to dispute? "The -stick," says the Egyptian proverb, "came down from heaven." - -The only sticks, however, that we here care to speak about are -physicians' canes, barbers' poles, and the twigs of rue which are -still strewn before the prisoner in the dock of a criminal court. Why -should they be thus strung together? - -The physician's cane is a very ancient part of his insignia. It is now -disused, but up to very recent times no doctor of medicine presumed to -pay a professional visit, or even to be seen in public, without this -mystic wand. Long as a footman's stick, smooth and varnished, with a -heavy gold knob or cross-bar at the top, it was an instrument with -which, down to the present century, every prudent aspirant to medical -practice was provided. The celebrated "gold-headed cane" which -Radcliffe, Mead, Askew, Pitcairn and Baillie successively bore is -preserved in the College of Physicians, bearing the arms which those -gentlemen assumed, or were entitled to. In one respect it deviated -from the physician's cane proper. It has a cross-bar almost like a -crook; whereas a physician's wand ought to have a knob at the top. -This knob in olden times was hollow, and contained a vinaigrette, -which the man of science always held to his nose when he approached a -sick person, so that its fumes might protect him from the noxious -exhalations of his patient. We know timid people who, on the same -plan, have their handkerchiefs washed in camphor-water, and bury their -faces in them whenever they pass the corner of a dingy street, or -cross an open drain, or come in contact with an ill-looking man. When -Howard, the philanthropist, visited Exeter, he found that the medical -officer of the county gaol had caused a clause to be inserted in his -agreement with the magistrates, exonerating him from attendance and -services during any outbreak of the gaol fever. Most likely this -gentleman, by books or experience, had been enlightened as to the -inefficacy of the vinaigrette. - -But though the doctor, like a soldier skulking from the field of -battle, might with impunity decline visiting the wretched captives, -the judge was forced to do his part of the social duty to them--to sit -in their presence during their trial in a close, fetid court; to -brow-beat them when they presumed to make any declaration of their -innocence beyond a brief "not guilty"; to read them an energetic -homily on the consequences of giving way to corrupt passions and evil -manners; and, finally, to order them their proper apportionments of -whipping, or incarceration, or banishment, or death. Such was the -abominable condition of our prisons, that the poor creatures dragged -from them and placed in the dock often by the noxious effluvia of -their bodies made seasoned criminal lawyers turn pale--partly, -perhaps, through fear, but chiefly through physical discomfort. Then -arose the custom of sprinkling aromatic herbs before the prisoners--so -that if the health of his Lordship and the gentlemen of the long robe -suffered from the tainted atmosphere, at least their senses of smell -might be shocked as little as possible. Then, also, came the -chaplain's bouquet, with which that reverend officer was always -provided when accompanying a criminal to Tyburn. Coke used to go -circuit carrying in his hand an enormous fan furnished with a handle, -in the shape of a goodly stick--the whole forming a weapon of offence -or defence. It is not improbable that the shrewd lawyer caused the end -of this cumbrous instrument to be furnished with a vinaigrette. - -So much for the head of the physician's cane. The stick itself was -doubtless a relic of the conjuring paraphernalia with which the -healer, in ignorant and superstitious times, worked upon the -imagination of the credulous. Just as the {~PRESCRIPTION TAKE~} which the doctor affixes -to his prescription is the old astrological sign (ill-drawn) of -Jupiter, so his cane descended to him from Hermes and Mercurius. It -was a relic of old jugglery, and of yet older religion--one of those -baubles which we know well where to find, but which our conservative -tendencies disincline us to sweep away without some grave necessity. - -The charming-stick, the magic AEsculapian wand of the Medicine-man, -differed in shape and significance from the pole of the -barber-surgeon. In the "British Apollo," 1703, No. 3, we read:-- - - "I'd know why he that selleth ale - Hangs out a chequer'd part per pale: - And why a barber at port-hole - Puts forth a parti-coloured pole?" - - ANSWER. - - "In ancient Rome, when men loved fighting, - And wounds and scars took much delight in, - Man-menders then had noble pay-- - Which we call surgeons to this day. - 'Twas order'd that a huge long pole, - With basin deck'd, should grace the hole, - To guide the wounded, who unlopt - Could walk, on stumps the other hopt; - But when they ended all their wars, - And men grew out of love with scars. - Their trade decaying, to keep swimming, - They joined the other trade of trimming; - And to their poles, to publish either, - Thus twisted both their trades together." - -The principal objection that can be made to this answer is that it -leaves the question unanswered, after making only a very lame attempt -to answer it. Lord Thurlow, in a speech delivered in the House of -Peers on 17th of July, 1797, opposing the surgeons' incorporation -bill, said that, "By a statute still in force, the barbers and -surgeons were each to use a pole. The barbers were to have theirs blue -and white, striped with no other appendage; but the surgeons', which -was the same in other respects, was likewise to have a gallipot and a -red rag, to denote the particular nature of their vocation." - -But the reason why the surgeon's pole was adorned with both blue and -red seems to have escaped the Chancellor. The chirurgical pole, -properly tricked, ought to have a line of blue paint, another of red, -and a third of white, winding round its length, in a regular -serpentine progression--the blue representing the venous blood, the -more brilliant colour the arterial, and the white thread being -symbolic of the bandage used in tying up the arm after withdrawing the -ligature. The stick itself is a sign that the operator possesses a -stout staff for his patients to hold, continually tightening and -relaxing their grasp during the operation--accelerating the flow of -the blood by the muscular action of the arm. The phlebotomist's staff -is of great antiquity. It is to be found amongst his properties, in an -illuminated missal of the time of Edward the First, and in an -engraving of the "Comenii Orbis Pictus." - -Possibly in ancient times the physician's cane and the surgeon's club -were used more actively. For many centuries fustigation was believed -in as a sovereign remedy for bodily ailment as well as moral failings, -and a beating was prescribed for an ague as frequently as for picking -and stealing. This process Antonius Musa employed to cure Octavius -Augustus of Sciatica. Thomas Campanella believed that it had the same -effect as colocynth administered internally. Galen recommended it as a -means of fattening people. Gordonius prescribed it in certain cases of -nervous irritability--"Si sit juvenis, et non vult obedire, -flagelletur frequenter et fortiter." In some rural districts ignorant -mothers still flog the feet of their children to cure them of -chilblains. And there remains on record a case in which club-tincture -produced excellent results on a young patient to whom Desault gave a -liberal dose of it. - -In 1792, when Sir Astley Cooper was in Paris, he attended the lectures -of Desault and Chopart in the Hotel Dieu. On one occasion, during this -part of his student course, Cooper saw a young fellow, of some sixteen -years of age, brought before Desault complaining of paralysis in his -right arm. Suspecting that the boy was only shamming, "Abraham," -Desault observed, unconcernedly, "Otez votre chapeau." - -Forgetting his paralytic story, the boy instantly obeyed, and -uncovered his head. - -"Donnez moi un baton!" screamed Desault; and he beat the boy -unmercifully. - -"D'ou venez vous?" inquired the operator when the castigation was -brought to a close. - -"Faubourg de St. Antoine," was the answer. - -"Oui, je le crois," replied Desault, with a shrug--speaking a truth -experience had taught him--"tous les coquins viennent de ce quartier -la." - -But enough for the present of the barber-surgeon and his pole. -"Tollite barberum,"--as Bonnel Thornton suggested, when in 1745 (a -year barbarous in more ways than one), the surgeons, on being -disjoined from the barbers, were asking what ought to be their motto. - -Next to his cane, the physician's wig was the most important of his -accoutrements. It gave profound learning and wise thought to lads just -out of their teens. As the horse-hair skull-cap gives idle Mr. -Briefless all the acuteness and gravity of aspect which one looks for -in an attorney-general, so the doctor's artificial locks were to him a -crown of honour. One of the Dukes of Holstein, in the eighteenth -century, just missed destruction through being warned not to put on -his head a poisoned wig which a traitorous peruke-maker offered him. -To test the value of the advice given him, the Duke had the wig put -upon the head of its fabricator. Within twelve minutes the man -expired! We have never heard of a physician finding death in a wig; -but a doctor who found the means of life in one is no rare bird in -history. - - "Each son of Sol, to make him look more big, - Had on a large, grave, decent, three-tailed wig; - His clothes full-trimmed, with button-holes behind, - Stiff were the skirts, with buckram stoutly lined; - The cloth-cut velvet, or more reverend black, - Full-made, and powder'd half-way down his back; - Large decent cuffs, which near the ground did reach, - With half a dozen buttons fix'd on each. - Grave were their faces--fix'd in solemn state, - These men struck awe; their children carried weight, - In reverend wigs old heads young shoulders bore, - And twenty-five or thirty seemed threescore." - -The three-tailed wig was the one worn by Will Atkins, the gout doctor -in Charles the Second's time (a good specialty then!). Will Atkins -lived in the Old Bailey, and had a vast practice. His nostrums, some -of which were composed of _thirty_ different ingredients, were -wonderful--but far less so than his wig, which was combed and frizzled -over each cheek. When Will walked about the town, visiting his -patients, he sometimes carried a cane, but never wore a hat. Such an -article of costume would have disarranged the beautiful locks, or, at -least, have obscured their glory. - - "Physic of old her entry made - Beneath th' immense full-bottom's shade; - While the gilt cane, with solemn pride, - To each sagacious nose applied, - Seem'd but a necessary prop - To bear the weight of wig at top." - -One of the most magnificent wigs on record was that of Colonel -Dalmahoy, which was celebrated in a song beginning:-- - - "If you would see a noble wig, - And in that wig a man look big, - To Ludgate Hill repair, my joy, - And gaze on Col'nel Dalmahoy." - -On Ludgate Hill, in close proximity to the Hall of the Apothecaries in -Water Lane, the Colonel vended drugs and nostrums of all -sorts--sweetmeats, washes for the complexion, scented oil for the -hair, pomades, love-drops, and charms. Wadd, the humorous collector of -anecdotes relating to his profession, records of him-- - - "Dalmahoy sold infusions and lotions, - Decoctions, and gargles, and pills; - Electuaries, powders, and potions, - Spermaceti, salts, scammony, squills. - - "Horse-aloes, burnt alum, agaric, - Balm, benzoine, blood-stone, and dill; - Castor, camphor, and acid tartaric, - With specifics for every ill. - - "But with all his specifics in store, - Death on Dalmahoy one day did pop; - And although he had doctors a score, - Made poor Dalmahoy shut up his shop." - -The last silk-coated physician was Henry Revell Reynolds, M. D., one -of the physicians who attended George III. during his long and -melancholy affliction. Though this gentleman came quite down to living -times, he persisted to the end in wearing the costume--of a -well-powdered wig, silk coat, breeches, stockings, buckled shoes, -gold-headed cane, and lace ruffles--with which he commenced his -career. He was the Brummel of the Faculty, and retained his fondness -for delicate apparel to the last. Even in his grave-clothes the -coxcombical tastes of the man exhibited themselves. His very cerements -were of "a good make." - - "Here well-dressed Reynolds lies. - As great a beau as ever; - We may perhaps see one as wise, - But sure a smarter never." - -Whilst Brocklesby's wig is still bobbing about in the distance, we may -as well tell a good story of him. He was an eccentric man, with many -good points, one of which was his friendship for Dr. Johnson. The -Duchess of Richmond requested Brocklesby to visit her maid, who was so -ill that she could not leave her bed. The physician proceeded -forthwith to Richmond House, in obedience to the command. On arriving -there he was shown up-stairs by the invalid's husband, who held the -post of valet to the Duke. The man was a very intelligent fellow, a -character with whom all visitors to Richmond House conversed freely, -and a vehement politician. In this last characteristic the Doctor -resembled him. Slowly the physician and the valet ascended the -staircase, discussing the fate of parties, and the merits of -ministers. They became excited, and declaiming at the top of their -voices entered the sick room. The valet--forgetful of his marital -duties in the delights of an intellectual contest--poured in a -broadside of sarcasms, ironical inquiries, and red-hot declamation; -the doctor--with true English pluck--returning fire, volley for -volley. The battle lasted for upwards of an hour, when the two -combatants walked down-stairs, and the man of medicine took his -departure. When the doctor arrived at his door, and was stepping from -his carriage, it flashed across his mind that he had not applied his -finger to his patient's pulse, or even asked her how she felt herself! - -Previous to Charles II.'s reign physicians were in the habit of -visiting their patients on horse-back, sitting sideways on foot-cloths -like women. Simeon Fox and Dr. Argent were the last Presidents of the -College of Physicians to go their rounds in this undignified manner. -With the "Restoration" came the carriage of the London physician. The -_Lex Talionis_ says, "For there must now be a little coach and two -horses; and, being thus attended, half-a-piece, their usual fee, is -but ill-taken, and popped into their left pocket, and possibly may -cause the patient to send for his worship twice before he will come -again to the hazard of another angel." - -The fashion, once commenced, soon prevailed. In Queen Anne's reign, no -physician with the slightest pretensions to practice could manage -without his chariot and four, sometimes even six, horses. In our own -day an equipage of some sort is considered so necessary an appendage -to a medical practitioner, that a physician without a carriage (or a -fly that can pass muster for one) is looked on with suspicion. He is -marked down _mauvais sujet_ in the same list with clergymen without -duty, barristers without chambers, and gentlemen whose Irish tenantry -obstinately refuse to keep them supplied with money. On the whole the -carriage system is a good one. It protects stair carpets from being -soiled with muddy boots (a great thing!), and bears cruelly on needy -aspirants after professional employment (a yet greater thing! and one -that manifestly ought to be the object of all professional -etiquette!). If the early struggles of many fashionable physicians -were fully and courageously written, we should have some heart-rending -stories of the screwing and scraping and shifts by which their first -equipages were maintained. Who hasn't heard of the darling doctor who -taught singing under the moustachioed and bearded guise of an Italian -Count, at a young ladies' school at Clapham, in order that he might -make his daily West-end calls between 3 p. m. and 6 p. m. in a -well-built brougham drawn by a fiery steed from a livery stable? There -was one noted case of a young physician who provided himself with the -means of figuring in a brougham during the May-fair morning, by -condescending to the garb and duties of a flyman during the hours of -darkness. He used the same carriage at both periods of the -four-and-twenty hours, lolling in it by daylight, and sitting on it by -gaslight. The poor fellow forgetting himself on one occasion, so far -as to jump _in_ when he ought to have jumped _on_, or jump _on_ when -he ought to have jumped _in_, he published his delicate secret to an -unkind world. - -It is a rash thing for a young man to start his carriage, unless he is -sure of being able to sustain it for a dozen years. To drop it is sure -destruction. We remember an ambitious Phaeton of Hospitals who -astonished the world--not only of his profession, but of all -London--with an equipage fit for an ambassador--the vehicle and the -steeds being obtained, like the arms blazoned on his panels, upon -credit. Six years afterwards he was met by a friend crushing the mud -on the Marylebone pavements, and with a characteristic assurance, that -even adversity was unable to deprive him of, said that his health was -so much deranged that his dear friend, Sir James Clarke, had -prescribed continual walking exercise for him as the only means of -recovering his powers of digestion. His friends--good-natured people, -as friends always are--observed that "it was a pity Sir James hadn't -given him the advice a few years sooner--prevention being better than -cure." - -Though physicians began generally to take to carriages in Charles -II.'s reign, it may not be supposed that no doctor of medicine before -that time experienced the motion of a wheeled carriage. In "Stowe's -Survey of London" one may read:-- - - "In the year 1563, Dr. Langton, a physician, rid in a car, - with a gown of damask, lined with velvet, and a coat of - velvet, and a cap of the same (such, it seems, doctors then - wore), but having a blue hood pinned over his cap; which was - (as it seems) a customary mark of guilt. And so came through - Cheapside on a market-day." - -The doctor's offence was one against public morals. He had loved not -wisely--but too well. The same generous weakness has brought learned -doctors, since Langton's day, into extremely ridiculous positions. - -The cane, wig, silk coat, stockings, side-saddle, and carriage, of the -old physician have been mentioned. We may not pass over his muff in -silence. That he might have his hands warm and delicate of touch, and -so be able to discriminate to a nicety the qualities of his patient's -arterial pulsations, he made his rounds, in cold weather, holding -before him a large fur muff, in which his fingers and fore-arm were -concealed. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -EARLY ENGLISH PHYSICIANS. - - "Medicine is a science which hath been, as we have said, - more professed than laboured, and yet more laboured than - advanced; the labour having been, in my judgment, rather in - circle than in progression. For I find much iteration, and - small progression."--Lord Bacon's _Advancement of Learning_. - - -The British doctor, however, does not make his first appearance in -sable dress and full-bottomed wig. Chaucer's physician, who was -"groundit in Astronomy and Magyk Naturel," and whose "study was but -lytyl in the Bible," had a far smarter and more attractive dress. - - "In sanguyn and in perse he clad was al, - Lined with taffata and with sendal." - -Taffeta and silk, of crimson and sky-blue colour, must have given an -imposing appearance to this worthy gentleman, who, resembling many -later doctors in his disuse of the Bible, resembled them also in his -love of fees. - - "And yit he was but esy of dispence, - He kepte that he won in pestelence; - For gold in physik is a cordial; - Therefore he lovede gold in special." - -Amongst our more celebrated and learned English physicians was John -Phreas, born about the commencement of the fifteenth century, and -educated at Oxford, where he obtained a fellowship on the foundation -of Balliol College. His M. D. degree he obtained in Padua, and the -large fortune he made by the practice of physic was also acquired in -Italy. He was a poet and an accomplished scholar. Some of his epistles -in MS. are still preserved in the Balliol Library and at the Bodleian. -His translation of Diodorus Siculus, dedicated to Paul II., procured -for him from that pontiff the fatal gift of an English bishopric. A -disappointed candidate for the same preferment is said to have -poisoned him before the day appointed for his consecration. - -Of Thomas Linacre, successively physician to Henry VII., Henry VIII., -Edward VI., and Princess Mary, the memory is still green amongst men. -At his request, in conjunction with the representations of John -Chambre, Fernandus de Victoria, Nicholas Halswell, John Fraunces, -Robert Yaxley (physicians), and Cardinal Wolsey, Henry VIII. granted -letters patent, establishing the College of Physicians, and conferring -on its members the sole privilege of practicing, and admitting persons -to practice, within the city, and a circuit of seven miles. The -college also was empowered to license practitioners throughout the -kingdom, save such as were graduates of Oxford and Cambridge--who were -to be exempt from the jurisdiction of the new college, save within -London and its precincts. Linacre was the first President of the -College of Physicians. The meetings of the learned corporation were -held at Linacre's private house, No. 5, Knight-Rider Street, Doctors' -Commons. This house (on which the Physician's arms, granted by -Christopher Barker, Garter King-at-arms, Sept. 20, 1546, may still be -seen,) was bequeathed to the college by Linacre, and long remained -their property and abode. The original charter of the brotherhood -states: "Before this period a great multitude of ignorant persons, of -whom the greater part had no insight into physic, nor into any other -kind of learning--some could not even read the letters and the -book--so far forth, that common artificers, as smiths, weavers and -women, boldly and accustomably took upon them great cures, to the high -displeasure of God, great infamy of the Faculty, and the grievous -hurt, damage, and destruction of many of the king's liege people." - -Linacre died in the October of 1524. Caius, writing his epitaph, -concludes, "Fraudes dolosque mire perosus, fidus amicis, omnibus juxta -charus; aliquot annos antequam obierat Presbyter factus; plenus annes, -ex hac vita migravit, multum desideratus." His motive for taking holy -orders towards the latter part of his life is unknown. Possibly he -imagined the sacerdotal garb would be a secure and comfortable -clothing in the grave. Certainly he was not a profound theologian. A -short while before his death he read the New Testament for the first -time, when so great was his astonishment at finding the rules of -Christians widely at variance with their practice, that he threw the -sacred volume from him in a passion, and exclaimed, "Either this is -not the gospel, or we are not Christians." - -Of the generation next succeeding Linacre's was John Kaye, or Key (or -Caius, as it has been long pedantically spelt). Like Linacre (the -elegant writer and intimate friend of Erasmus), Caius is associated -with letters not less than medicine. Born of a respectable Norfolk -family, Caius raised, on the foundation of Gonvil Hall, the college in -the University of Cambridge that bears his name--to which Eastern -Counties' men do mostly resort. Those who know Cambridge remember the -quaint humour with which, in obedience to the founder's will, the -gates of Caius are named. As a president of the College of Physicians, -Caius was a zealous defender of the rights of his order. It has been -suggested that Shakespeare's Dr. Caius, in "The Merry Wives of -Windsor," was produced in resentment towards the president, for his -excessive fervor against the surgeons. - -Caius terminated his laborious and honourable career on July the 29th, -1573, in the sixty-third year of his age.[2] He was buried in his -college chapel, in a tomb constructed some time before his decease, -and marked with the brief epitaph--"Fui Caius." In the same year in -which this physician of Edward VI., Mary, and Elizabeth died, was born -Theodore Turquet de Mayerne, Baron Aulbone of France, and Sir Theodore -Mayerne in England. Of Mayerne mention will be made in various places -of these pages. There is some difficulty in ascertaining to how many -crowned heads this lucky courtier was appointed physician. After -leaving France and permanently fixing himself in England, he kept up -his connection with the French, so that the list of his -monarch-patients may be said to comprise two French and three English -sovereigns--Henry IV. and Louis XIII. of France, and James I., Charles -I., and Charles II. of England. Mayerne died at Chelsea, in the -eighty-second year of his age, on the 15th of March, 1655. Like John -Hunter, he was buried in the church of St. Martin's-in-the-Fields. His -library went to the College of Physicians, and his wealth to his only -daughter, who was married to the Marquis of Montpouvillon. Though -Mayerne was the most eminent physician of his time, his prescriptions -show that his enlightenment was not superior to the prevailing -ignorance of the period. He recommended a monthly excess of wine and -food as a fine stimulant to the system. His treatise on Gout, written -in French, and translated into English (1676) by Charles II.'s -physician in ordinary, Dr. Thomas Sherley, recommends a clumsy and -inordinate administration of violent drugs. Calomel he habitually -administered in scruple doses. Sugar of lead he mixed largely in his -conserves; pulverized human bones he was very fond of prescribing; and -the principal ingredient in his gout-powder was "raspings of a human -skull unburied." But his sweetest compound was his "Balsam of Bats," -strongly recommended as an unguent for hypochondriacal persons, into -which entered adders, bats, suckling whelps, earth-worms, hog's -grease, the marrow of a stag, and the thigh-bone of an ox. After such -a specimen of the doctor's skill, possibly the reader will not care to -study his receipts for canine madness, communicated to the Royal -Society in 1687, or his "Excellent and well-approved Receipts and -Experiments in Cookery, with the best way of Preserving." Nor will the -reader be surprised to learn that the great physician had a firm -belief in the efficacy of amulets and charms. - - [2] In Dr. Moussett's "Health's Improvement; or Rules concerning Food" - is a curious passage relating to this eminent physician's decay. - -But the ignorance and superstition of which Mayerne was the -representative were approaching the close of their career; and Sir -Theodore's court celebrity and splendour were to become contemptible -by the side of the scientific achievements of a contemporary. The -grave closed over Mayerne in 1655; but in the December of 1652, the -College of Physicians had erected in their hall a statue of Harvey, -who died on the third of June, 1657, aged seventy-nine years. - - "The circling streams, once thought but pools of blood - (Whether life's fuel, or the body's food), - From dark oblivion Harvey's name shall save." - -Aubrey says of Harvey--"He was not tall, but of the lowest stature; -round-faced, olivaster (waintscott) complexion; little eie--round, -very black, full of spirit; his haire was black as a raven, but quite -white twenty years before he dyed. I remember he was wont to drink -coffee, which he and his brother Eliab did, before coffee-houses were -in fashion in London. He was, as all the rest of his brothers, very -cholerique; and in his younger days wore a dagger (as the fashion then -was); but this doctor would be apt to draw out his dagger upon every -slight occasion. He rode on _horse-back with a foot-cloath to visit -his patients, his man following on foot, as the fashion then was, was -very decent, now quite discontinued_." - -Harvey's discovery dates a new era in medical and surgical science. -Its influence on scientific men, not only as a stepping-stone to -further discoveries, but as a power rousing in all quarters a spirit -of philosophic investigation, was immediately perceptible. A new class -of students arose, before whom the foolish dreams of medical -superstition and the darkness of empiricism slowly disappeared. - -Of the physicians[3] of what may be termed the Elizabethan era, beyond -all others the most sagacious and interesting, is William Bulleyn. He -belongs to a bevy of distinguished Eastern Counties' physicians. Dr. -Butts, Henry VIII.'s physician, mentioned in Strype's "Life of -Cranmer," and made celebrated amongst doctors by Shakespeare's "Henry -the Eighth," belonged to an honourable and gentle family sprinkled -over Norfolk, Suffolk, and Cambridgeshire. The butcher king knighted -him by the style of William Butts of Norfolk. Caius was born at -Norwich; and the eccentric William Butler, of whom Mayerne, Aubrey, -and Fuller tell fantastic stories, was born at Ipswich, about the year -1535. - - [3] To the acquirements of the Elizabethan physicians in every - department of learning, _save_ the sciences immediately concerning - their own profession, Lord Bacon bears emphatic testimony--"For you - shall have of them antiquaries, poets, humanists, statesmen, - merchants, divines." - -William Bulleyn was born in the isle of Ely; but it is with the -eastern division of the county of Suffolk that his name is especially -associated. Sir William Bulleyn, the Sheriff of Norfolk and Suffolk -in the fifteenth year of Henry VII., and grandfather of the -unfortunate Anne Boleyn, was one of the magnates of the doctor's -family--members of which are still to be found in Ipswich and other -parts of East Anglia, occupying positions of high respectability. In -the reigns of Edward VI., Mary, and Elizabeth, no one ranked higher -than William Bulleyn as botanist and physician. The record of his -acuteness and learning is found in his numerous works, which are -amongst the most interesting prose writings of the Elizabethan era. If -Mr. Bohn, who has already done so much to render old and neglected -authors popular, would present the public with a well-edited reprint -of Bulleyn's works, he would make a valuable addition to the services -he has already conferred on literature. - -After receiving a preliminary education in the University of -Cambridge, Bulleyn enlarged his mind by extended travel, spending much -time in Germany and Scotland. During the reign of Queen Mary he -practiced in Norwich; but he moved to Blaxhall, in Suffolk (of which -parish it is believed his brother was for some years rector). Alluding -to his wealthy friend, Sir Thomas Rushe, of Oxford, he says, with a -pun, "I myself did know a Rushe, growing in the fenne side, by Orford, -in Suffolke, that might have spent three hundred marks by year. Was -not this a _rush_ of estimation? A fewe sutche rushes be better than -many great trees or bushes. But thou doste not know that countrey, -where sometyme I did dwell, at a place called Blaxall, neere to that -_Rushe Bushe_. I would all rushes within this realme were as riche in -value." (The ancient family still maintain their connection with the -county.) Speaking of the rushes near Orford, in Suffolk, and about the -isle of Ely, Bulleyn says, "The playne people make mattes and -horse-collars of the greater rushes, and of the smaller they make -lightes or candles for the winter. Rushes that growe upon dry groundes -be good to strewe in halles, chambers, and galleries, to walk -upon--defending apparell, as traynes of gownes and kirtles, from the -dust." - -He tells of the virtues of Suffolk sage (a herb that the nurses of -that county still believe in as having miraculous effects, when -administered in the form of "sage-tea"). Of Suffolk hops (now but -little grown in the county) he mentions in terms of high -praise--especially of those grown round Framlingham Castle, and "the -late house of nunnes at Briziarde." "I know in many places of the -country of Suffolke, where they brew theyr beere with hoppes that -growe upon theyr owne groundes, as in a place called Briziarde, near -an old famous castle called Framingham, and in many other places of -the country." Of the peas of Orford the following mention is -made:--"In a place called Orforde, in Suffolke, betwene the haven and -the mayne sea, wheras never plow came, nor natural earth was, but -stones onely, infinite thousand ships loden in that place, there did -pease grow, whose roots were more than iii fadome long, and the coddes -did grow uppon clusters like the keys of ashe trees, bigger than -fitches, and less than the fyeld peason, very sweete to eat upon, and -served many pore people dwelling there at hand, which els should have -perished for honger, the scarcity of bread was so great. In so much -that the playne pore people did make very much of akornes; and a -sickness of a strong fever did sore molest the commons that yere, the -like whereof was never heard of there. Now, whether th' occasion of -these peason, in providence of God, came through some shipwracke with -much misery, or els by miracle, I am not able to determine thereof; -but sowen by man's hand they were not, nor like other pease."[4] - - [4] The tradition of this timely and unaccountable growth of peas - still exists amongst the peasants in the neighbourhood of Orford. J. - C. J. - -In the same way one has in the Doctor's "Book of Simples" pleasant -gossip about the more choice productions of the garden and of -commerce, showing that horticulture must have been far more advanced -at that time than is generally supposed, and that the luxuries -imported from foreign countries were largely consumed throughout the -country. Pears, apples, peaches, quinces, cherries, grapes, raisins, -prunes, barberries, oranges, medlars, raspberries and strawberries, -spinage, ginger, and lettuces are the good things thrown upon the -board. - -Of pears, the author says: "There is a kynd of peares growing in the -city of Norwich, called the black freere's peare, very delicious and -pleasaunt, and no lesse profitable unto a hoate stomacke, as I heard -it reported by a ryght worshipful phisicion of the same city, called -Doctour Manfield." Other pears, too, are mentioned, "sutch as have -names as peare Robert, peare John, bishop's blessyngs, with other -prety names. The red warden is of greate vertue, conserved, roasted -or baken to quench choller." The varieties of the apple especially -mentioned are "the costardes, the greene cotes, the pippen, the queene -aple." - -Grapes are spoken of as cultivated and brought to a high state of -perfection in Suffolk and other parts of the country. Hemp is -humorously called "gallow grasse or neckweede." The heartesease, or -paunsie, is mentioned by its quaint old name, "three faces in one -hodde." Parsnips, radishes, and carrots are offered for sale. In the -neighborhood of London, large quantities of these vegetables were -grown for the London market; but Bulleyn thinks little of them, -describing them as "more plentiful than profytable." Of figs--"Figges -be good agaynst melancholy, and the falling evil, to be eaten. Figges, -nuts, and herb grace do make a sufficient medicine against poison or -the pestilence. Figges make a good gargarism to cleanse the throates." - -The double daisy is mentioned as growing in gardens. Daisy tea was -employed in gout and rheumatism--as herb tea of various sorts still is -by the poor of our provinces. With daisy tea (or _bellis-tea_) "I, -Bulleyn, did recover one Belliser, not onely from a spice of the -palsie, but also from the quartan. And afterwards, the same Belliser, -more unnatural than a viper, sought divers ways to have murthered me, -taking part against me with my mortal enemies, accompanied with bloudy -ruffins for that bloudy purpose." Parsley, also, was much used in -medicine. And as it was the custom for the doctor to grow his own -herbs in his garden, we may here see the origin of the old nursery -tradition of little babies being brought by the doctor from the -parsley bed.[5] - - [5] The classical reader who is acquainted with the significations of - the Greek {~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER SIGMA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER LAMDA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}, will not be at a loss to account for this - medicinal use of the crisp green leaves. - -Scarcely less interesting than "The Book of Simples" is Bulleyn's -"Dialogue betweene Soarenes and Chirurgi." It opens with an honourable -mention of many distinguished physicians and chirurgians. Dr. John -Kaius is praised as a worthy follower of Linacre. Dr. Turner's "booke -of herbes will always grow greene." Sir Thomas Eliot's "'castel of -health' cannot decay." Thomas Faire "is not deade, but is transformed -and chaunged into a new nature immortal." Androwe Borde, the father of -"Merry Andrews," "wrote also wel of physicke to profit the common -wealth withal." Thomas Pannel, the translator of the Schola -Saternitana, "hath play'd ye good servant to the commonwealth in -translating good bookes of physicke." Dr. William Kunyngham "hath wel -travailed like a good souldiour agaynst the ignorant enemy." Numerous -other less eminent practitioners are mentioned--such as Buns, Edwards, -Hatcher, Frere, Langton, Lorkin, Wendy--educated at Cambridge; Gee and -Simon Ludford, of Oxford; Huyck (the Queen's physician), Bartley, -Carr; Masters, John Porter, of Norwich; Edmunds of York, Robert -Baltrop, and Thomas Calfe, apothecary. - -"Soft chirurgians," says Bulleyn, "make foul sores." He was a bold and -courageous one. "Where the wound is," runs the Philippine proverb, -"the plaster must be." Bulleyn was of the same opinion; but, in -dressing a tender part, the surgeon is directed to have "a gladsome -countenance," because "the paciente should not be greatly troubled." -For bad surgeons he has not less hostility than he has for - - "Petty Foggers, in cases of the law, - Who make mountaynes of molhils, and trees of a straw." - -The state of medicine in Elizabeth's reign may be discovered by a -survey of the best recipes of this physician, who, in sagacity and -learning, was far superior to Sir Theodore Mayerne, his successor by a -long interval. - -"_An Embrocation._--An embrocation is made after this manner:--{~PRESCRIPTION TAKE~}. -Of a decoction of mallowes, vyolets, barly, quince seed, lettice -leaves, one pint; of barly meale, two ounces; of oyle of vyolets and -roses, of each, an ounce and half; of butter, one ounce; and then -seeth them all together till they be like a broathe, puttyng thereto, -at the ende, four yolkes of eggs; and the maner of applying them is -with peeces of cloth, dipped in the aforesaid decoction, being -actually hoate." - -"_A Good Emplaster._--You shall mak a plaster with these medicines -following, which the great learned men themselves have used unto their -pacientes:--{~PRESCRIPTION TAKE~}. Of hulled beanes, or beane flower that is -without the brane, one pound; of mallow-leaves, two handfuls; seethe -them in lye, til they be well sodden, and afterwarde let them be -stamped and incorporate with four ounces of meale of lint or flaxe, -two ounces of meale of lupina; and forme thereof a plaster with goat's -grease, for this openeth the pores, avoideth the matter, and -comforteth also the member; but if the place, after a daye or two of -the application, fall more and more to blackness, it shall be -necessary to go further, even to sacrifying and incision of the -place." - -Pearl electuaries and pearl mixtures were very fashionable medicines -with the wealthy down to the commencement of the eighteenth century. -Here we have Bulleyn's recipe for - -"_Electuarium de Gemmis._--Take two drachms of white perles; two -little peeces of saphyre; jacinth, corneline, emerauldes, granettes, -of each an ounce; setwal, the sweate roote doronike, the rind of -pomecitron, mace, basel seede, of each two drachms; of redde corall, -amber, shaving of ivory, of each two drachms; rootes both of white and -red behen, ginger, long peper, spicknard, folium indicum, saffron, -cardamon, of each one drachm; of troch, diarodon, lignum aloes, of -each half a small handful; cinnamon, galinga, zurubeth, which is a -kind of setwal, of each one drachm and a half; thin pieces of gold and -sylver, of each half a scruple; of musk, half a drachm. Make your -electuary with honey emblici, which is the fourth kind of mirobalans -with roses, strained in equall partes, as much as will suffice. This -healeth cold diseases of ye braine, harte, stomack. It is a medicine -proved against the tremblynge of the harte, faynting and souning, the -weaknes of the stomacke, pensivenes, solitarines. Kings and noble men -have used this for their comfort. It causeth them to be bold-spirited, -the body to smell wel, and ingendreth to the face good coloure." - -Truly a medicine for kings and noblemen! During the railway panic in -'46 an unfortunate physician prescribed for a nervous lady:-- - - {~PRESCRIPTION TAKE~}. Great Western, 350 shares. - Eastern Counties} - North Middlesex } a--a 1050 - Mft. Haust. 1. Om. noc. cap. - -This direction to a delicate gentlewoman, to swallow nightly two -thousand four hundred and fifty railway shares, was regarded as -evidence of the physician's insanity, and the management of his -private affairs was forthwith taken out of his hands. But assuredly it -was as rational a prescription as Bulleyn's "Electuarium de Gemmis." - -"_A Precious Water._--Take nutmegges, the roote called doronike, which -the apothecaries have, setwall, gatangall, mastike, long peper, the -bark of pomecitron, of mellon, sage, bazel, marjorum, dill, spiknard, -wood of aloes, cubebe, cardamon, called graynes of paradise, lavender, -peniroyall, mintes, sweet catamus, germander, enulacampana, rosemary, -stichados, and quinance, of eche lyke quantity; saffron, an ounce and -half; the bone of a harte's heart grated, cut, and stamped; and beate -your spyces grossly in a morter. Put in ambergrice and musk, of each -half a drachm. Distil this in a simple aqua vitae, made with strong -ale, or sackeleyes and aniseedes, not in a common styll, but in a -serpentine; to tell the vertue of this water against colde, phlegme, -dropsy, heavines of minde, comming of melancholy, I cannot well at -thys present, the excellent virtues thereof are sutch, and also the -tyme were to long." - -The cure of cancers has been pretended and attempted by a numerous -train of knaves and simpletons, as well as men of science. In the -Elizabethan time this most terrible of maladies was thought to be -influenced by certain precious waters--_i. e._ precious messes. - -"Many good men and women," says Bulleyn, "wythin thys realme have -dyvers and sundry medicines for the canker, and do help their -neighboures that bee in perill and daunger whyche be not onely poore -and needy, having no money to spende in chirurgie. But some do well -where no chirurgians be neere at hand; in such cases, as I have said, -many good gentlemen and ladyes have done no small pleasure to poore -people; as that excellent knyght, and worthy learned man, Syr Thomas -Eliot, whose works be immortall. Syr William Parris, of -Cambridgeshire, whose cures deserve prayse; Syr William Gascoigne, of -Yorkshire, that helped many soare eyen; and the Lady Tailor, of -Huntingdonshire, and the Lady Darrell of Kent, had many precious -medicines to comfort the sight, and to heale woundes withal, and were -well seene in herbes. - -"The commonwealth hath great want of them, and of theyr medicines, -whych if they had come into my handes, they should have bin written in -my booke. Among al other there was a knight, a man of great worshyp, a -Godly hurtlesse gentleman, which is departed thys lyfe, hys name is -Syr Anthony Heveningham. This gentleman learned a water to kyll a -canker of hys owne mother, whych he used all hys lyfe, to the greate -helpe of many men, women, and chyldren." - -This water "learned by Syr Anthony Heveningham" was, Bulleyn states on -report, composed thus:-- - -"_Precious Water to Cure a Canker_:--Take dove's foote, a herbe so -named, Arkangell ivy wyth the berries, young red bryer toppes, and -leaves, whyte roses, theyr leaves and buds, red sage, selandyne, and -woodbynde, of eche lyke quantity, cut or chopped and put into pure -cleane whyte wyne, and clarified hony. Then breake into it alum glasse -and put in a little of the pouder of aloes hepatica. Destill these -together softly in a limbecke of glasse or pure tin; if not, then in -limbecke wherein aqua vitae is made. Keep this water close. It will not -onely kyll the canker, if it be duly washed therewyth; but also two -droppes dayly put into the eye wyll sharp the syght, and breake the -pearle and spottes, specially if it be dropped in with a little fenell -water, and close the eys after." - -There is reason to wish that all empirical applications, for the cure -of cancer, were as harmless as this. - -The following prescription for pomatum differs but little from the -common domestic receipts for lip-salve in use at the present day:-- - -"_Sickness._--How make you pomatum? - -"_Health._--Take the fat of a young kyd one pound, temper it with the -water of musk roses by the space of foure dayes; then take five -apples, and dresse them, and cut them in pieces, and lard them with -cloves, then boyle them altogeather in the same water of roses, in one -vessel of glasse; set within another vessel; let it boyle on the fyre -so long until all be white; then wash them with ye same water of muske -roses; this done, kepe it in a glass; and if you wil have it to smel -better, then you must put in a little civet or musk, or of them both, -and ambergrice. Gentilwomen doe use this to make theyr faces smoth and -fayre, for it healeth cliftes in the lyppes, or in any other place of -the hands and face." - -The most laughable of all Bulleyn's receipts is one in which, for the -cure of a child suffering under a certain nervous malady, he -prescribes "a smal yong mouse rosted." To some a "rosted mouse" may -seem more palatable than the compound in which snails are the -principal ingredient. "Snayles," says Bulleyn, "broken from the -shelles and sodden in whyte wyne with oyle and sugar are very holsome, -because they be hoat and moist for the straightnes of the lungs and -cold cough. Snails stamped with camphory, and leven wil draw forth -prycks in the flesh." So long did this belief in the virtue of snails -retain its hold on Suffolk, that the writer of these pages remembers a -venerable lady (whose memory is cherished for her unostentatious -benevolence and rare worth) who for years daily took a cup of snail -broth, for the benefit of a weak chest. - -One minor feature of Bulleyn's works is the number of receipts given -in them for curing the bites of mad dogs. The good man's horror of -Suffolk witches is equal to his admiration of Suffolk dairies. Of the -former he says, "I dyd know wythin these few yeres a false witch, -called M. Line, in a towne of Suffolke called Derham, which with a -payre of ebene beades, and certain charmes, had no small resort of -foolysh women, when theyr chyldren were syck. To thys lame wytch they -resorted, to have the fairie charmed and the spyrite conjured away; -through the prayers of the ebene beades, whych she said came from the -Holy Land, and were sanctifyed at Rome. Through whom many goodly cures -were don, but my chaunce was to burn ye said beades. Oh that damnable -witches be suffred to live unpunished and so many blessed men burned; -witches be more hurtful in this realm than either quarten or -pestilence. I know in a towne called Kelshall in Suffolke, a witch, -whose name was M. Didge, who with certain _Ave Marias_ upon her ebene -beades, and a waxe candle, used this charme for S. Anthonies fyre, -having the sycke body before her, holding up her hande, saying-- - - 'There came two angels out of the North-east, - One brought fyre, the other brought frost,-- - Out fyre, and in frost!' - -"I could reherse an hundred of sutch knackes, of these holy gossips. -The fyre take them all, for they be God's enemyes." - -On leaving Blaxhall in Suffolk, Bulleyn migrated to the north. For -many years he practised with success at Durham. At Shields he owned a -considerable property. Sir Thomas, Baron of Hilton, Commander of -Tinmouth Castle under Philip and Mary, was his patron and intimate -friend. His first book, entitled "Government of Health," he dedicated -to Sir Thomas Hilton; but the MS., unfortunately, was lost in a -shipwreck before it was printed. Disheartened by this loss, and the -death of his patron, Bulleyn bravely set to work in London, to "revive -his dead book." Whilst engaged on the laborious work of recomposition, -he was arraigned on a grave charge of murder. "One William Hilton," he -says, telling his own story, "brother to the sayd Syr Thomas Hilton, -accused me of no less cryme then of most cruel murder of his owne -brother, who dyed of a fever (sent onely of God) among his owne -frends, fynishing his lyfe in the Christian fayth. But this William -Hilton caused me to be arraigned before that noble Prince, the Duke's -Grace of Norfolke, for the same; to this end to have had me dyed -shamefully; that with the covetous Ahab he might have, through false -witnes and perjury, obtayned by the counsel of Jezabell, a wineyard, -by the pryce of blood. But it is wrytten, _Testis mendax peribit_, a -fals witnes shal com to naught; his wicked practise was wisely espyed, -his folly deryded, his bloudy purpose letted, and fynallye I was with -justice delivered." - -This occurred in 1560. His foiled enemy afterwards endeavoured to get -him assassinated; but he again triumphed over the machinations of his -adversary. Settling in London, he obtained a large practice, though he -was never enrolled amongst the physicians of the college. His leisure -time he devoted to the composition of his excellent works. To the last -he seems to have kept up a close connection with the leading Eastern -Counties families. His "Comfortable Regiment and Very Wholsome order -against the moste perilous Pleurisie," was dedicated to the Right -Worshipful Sir Robart Wingfelde of Lethryngham, Knight. - -William Bulleyn died in London, on the 7th of January, 1576, and was -buried in the church of St. Giles's, Cripplegate, in the same tomb -wherein his brother Richard had been laid thirteen years before; and -wherein John Fox, the martyrologist, was interred eleven years later. - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -SIR THOMAS BROWNE AND SIR KENELM DIGBY. - - -Amongst the physicians of the seventeenth century were three -Brownes--father, son, and grandson. The father wrote the "Religio -Medici," and the "Pseudoxia Epidemica"--a treatise on vulgar errors. -The son was the traveller, and author of "Travels in Hungaria, Servia, -Bulgaria, Macedonia, Thessaly, Austria, Styria, Carinthia, Carniola, -Friuli &c.," and the translator of the Life of Themistocles in the -English version of "Plutarch's Lives" undertaken by Dryden. He was -also a physician of Bartholomew's, and a favourite physician of -Charles II., who on one occasion said of him, "Doctor Browne is as -learned as any of the college, and as well bred as any of the court." -The grandson was a Fellow of the Royal Society, and, like his father -and grandfather, a Fellow of the Royal College of Physicians; but he -was by no means worthy of his distinguished progenitors. Alike unknown -in literature, science, and art, he was a miserable sot, and was -killed by a fall from his horse, between Southfleet and Gravesend, -when in a state of intoxication. He was thus cut off in the July of -1710, having survived his father not quite two years. - -The author of the "Religio Medici" enjoys as good a chance of an -immortality of fame as any of his contemporaries. The child of a -London merchant, who left him a comfortable fortune, Thomas Browne was -from the beginning of his life (Oct. 19, 1605) to its close (Oct. 19, -1682), well placed amongst the wealthier of those who occupied the -middle way of life. From Winchester College, where his schoolboy days -were spent, he proceeded to the University of Oxford, becoming a -member of Broadgates Hall, i.e., Pembroke College--the college of -Blackstone, Shenstone, and Samuel Johnson. After taking his B.A. and -M.A. degrees, he turned his attention to medicine, and for some time -practised as a physician in Oxfordshire. Subsequently to this he -travelled over different parts of Europe, visiting France, Italy, and -Holland, and taking a degree of Doctor in Physic at Leyden. Returning -to England, he settled at Norwich, married a rich and beautiful -Norfolk lady, named Mileham; and for the rest of his days resided in -that ancient city, industriously occupied with an extensive practice, -the pursuits of literature, and the education of his children. When -Charles II. visited Norwich in 1671, Thomas Browne, M.D., was knighted -by the royal hand. This honour, little as a man of letters would now -esteem it, was highly prized by the philosopher. He thus alludes to it -in his "Antiquities of Norwich"--"And it is not for some wonder, that -Norwich having been for so long a time so considerable a place, so few -kings have visited it; of which number among so many monarchs since -the Conquest we find but four; viz., King Henry III., Edward I., -Queen Elizabeth, and our gracious sovereign now reigning, King Charles -II., of which I had a particular reason to take notice." - -Amongst the Norfolk people Sir Thomas was very popular, his suave and -unobtrusive manners securing him many friends, and his philosophic -moderation of temper saving him from ever making an enemy. The honour -conferred on him was a subject of congratulation--even amongst his -personal friends, when his back was turned. The Rev. John Whitefoot, -M.A., Rector of Heigham, in Norfolk, in his "Minutes for the Life of -Sir Thomas Browne," says, that had it been his province to preach his -funeral sermon, he should have taken his text from an uncanonical -book--"I mean that of Syracides, or Jesus, the son of Syrach, commonly -called Ecclesiasticus, which, in the 38th chapter, and the first -verse, hath these words, 'Honour a physician with the honour due unto -him; for the uses which you may have of him, for the Lord hath created -him; for of the Most High cometh healing, and he shall receive Honour -of the King' (as ours did that of knighthood from the present King, -when he was in this city). 'The skill of the physician shall lift up -his head, and in the sight of great men shall he be in admiration'; so -was this worthy person by the greatest man of this nation that ever -came into this country, by whom also he was frequently and personally -visited." - -Widely and accurately read in ancient and modern literature, and -possessed of numerous accomplishments, Sir Thomas Browne was in -society diffident almost to shyness. "His modesty," says Whitefoot, -"was visible in a natural habitual blush, which was increased upon the -least occasion, and oft discovered without any observable cause. Those -who knew him only by the briskness of his writings were astonished at -his gravity of aspect and countenance, and freedom from loquacity." As -was his manner, so was his dress. "In his habit of cloathing he had an -aversion to all finery, and affected plainness both in fashion and -ornaments." - -The monuments of Sir Thomas and his lady are in the church of St. -Peter's, Mancroft, Norwich, where they were buried. Some years since -Sir Thomas Browne's tomb was opened for the purpose of submitting it -to repair, when there was discovered on his coffin a plate, of which -Dr. Diamond, who happened at the time to be in Norwich, took two -rubbings, one of which is at present in the writer's custody. It bears -the following interesting inscription:--"Amplissimus vir Dr. Thomas -Browne Miles Medicinae Dr. Annos Natus et Denatus 19 Die Mensis Anno -Dmi., 1682--hoc loculo indormiens corporis spagyrici pulvere plumbum -in aurum convertit." - -The "Religio Medici" not only created an unprecedented sensation by -its erudition and polished style, but it shocked the nervous guardians -of orthodoxy by its boldness of inquiry. It was assailed for its -infidelity and scientific heresies. According to Coleridge's view of -the "Religio Medici," Sir Thomas Browne, "a fine mixture of humourist, -genius, and pedant," was a Spinosist without knowing it. "Had he," -says the poet, "lived nowadays, he would probably have been a very -ingenious and bold infidel in his real opinions, though the kindness -of his nature would have kept him aloof from vulgar, prating, -obtrusive infidelity." - -Amongst the adverse critics of the "Religio Medici" was the eccentric, -gallant, brave, credulous, persevering, frivolous, Sir Kenelm Digby. A -Maecenas, a Sir Philip Sydney, a Dr. Dee, a Beau Fielding, and a Dr. -Kitchener, all in one, this man is chief of those extravagant -characters that astonish the world at rare intervals, and are found -nowhere except in actual life. No novelist of the most advanced -section of the idealistic school would dare to create such a personage -as Sir Kenelm. The eldest son of the ill-fated Sir Everard Digby, he -was scarcely three years old when his father atoned on the scaffold -for his share in the gunpowder treason. Fortunately a portion of the -family estate was entailed, so Sir Kenelm, although the offspring of -attainted blood, succeeded to an ample revenue of about L3000 a-year. -In 1618 (when only in his fifteenth year) he entered Gloucester Hall, -now Worcester College, Oxford. In 1621 he commenced foreign travel. He -attended Charles I. (then Prince of Wales) at the Court of Madrid; and -returning to England in 1623, was knighted by James I. at -Hinchinbroke, the house of Lord Montague, on the 23rd of October in -that year. From that period he was before the world as courtier, cook, -lover, warrior, alchemist, political intriguer, and man of letters. He -became a gentleman of the bedchamber, and commissioner of the navy. In -1628 he obtained a naval command, and made his brilliant expedition -against the Venetians and Algerians, whose galleys he routed off -Scanderon. This achievement is celebrated by his client and friend, -Ben Jonson:-- - - "Though, happy Muse, thou know my Digby well, - Yet read in him these lines: he doth excel - In honour, courtesy, and all the parts - Court can call hero, or man could call his arts. - He's prudent, valiant, just, and temperate; - In him all virtue is beheld in state; - And he is built like some imperial room - For that to dwell in, and be still at home. - His breast is a brave palace, a broad street, - Where all heroic, ample thoughts do meet; - Where nature such a large survey hath ta'en, - As other souls, to his, dwelt in a lane: - Witness his action done at Scanderoon - Upon his birthday, the eleventh of June." - -Returning from war, he became once more the student, presenting in -1632 the library he had purchased of his friend Allen, to the Bodleian -Library, and devoting his powers to the mastery of controversial -divinity. Having in 1636 entered the Church of Rome, he resided for -some time abroad. Amongst his works at this period were his -"Conference with a Lady about the Choice of Religion," published in -1638, and his "Letters between Lord George Digby and Sir Kenelm Digby, -Knt., concerning Religion," not published till 1651. It is difficult -to say to which he was most devoted--his King, his Church, literature, -or his beautiful and frail wife, Venetia Stanley, whose charms -fascinated the many admirers on whom she distributed her favours, and -gained her Sir Kenelm for a husband when she was the discarded -mistress of Richard, Earl of Dorset. She had borne the Earl children, -so his Lordship on parting settled on her an annuity of L500 per -annum. After her marriage, this annuity not being punctually paid, Sir -Kenelm sued the Earl for it. Well might Mr. Lodge say, "By the -frailties of that lady much of the noblest blood of England was -dishonoured, for she was the daughter of Sir Edward Stanley, Knight -of the Bath, grandson of the great Edward, Earl of Derby, by Lucy, -daughter and co-heir of Thomas Percy, Earl of Northumberland." Such -was her unfair fame. "The _fair fame_ left to Posterity of that Truly -Noble Lady, the Lady Venetia Digby, late wife of Sir Kenelm Digby, -Knight, a Gentleman Absolute in all Numbers," is embalmed in the clear -verses of Jonson. Like Helen, she is preserved to us by the sacred -poet. - - "Draw first a cloud, all save her neck, - And out of that make day to break; - Till like her face it do appear, - And men may think all light rose there." - -In other and more passionate terms Sir Kenelm painted the same charms -in his "Private Memoirs." - -But if Sir Kenelm was a chivalric husband, he was not a less loyal -subject. How he avenged in France the honour of his King, on the body -of a French nobleman, may be learnt in a curious tract, "Sir Kenelme -Digby's Honour Maintained. By a most courageous combat which he fought -with Lord Mount le Ros, who by base and slanderous words reviled our -King. Also the true relation how he went to the King of France, who -kindly intreated him, and sent two hundred men to guard him so far as -Flanders. And now he is returned from Banishment, and to his eternall -honour lives in England." - -Sir Kenelm's "Observations upon Religio Medici," are properly -characterized by Coleridge as those of a pedant. They were written -whilst he was kept a prisoner, by order of the Parliament, in -Winchester House; and the author had the ludicrous folly to assert -that he both read the "Religio Medici" through for the first time, -and wrote his bulky criticism upon it, in less than twenty-four hours. -Of all the claims that have been advanced by authors for the -reputation of being rapid workmen, this is perhaps the most audacious. -For not only was the task one that at least would require a month, but -the impudent assertion that it was accomplished in less than a day and -night was contradicted by the title-page, in which "the observations" -are described as "occasionally written." Beckford's vanity induced him -to boast that "Vathek" was composed at one sitting of two days and -three nights; but this statement--outrageous falsehood though it -be--was sober truth compared with Sir Kenelm's brag. - -But of all Sir Kenelm's vagaries, his Sympathetic Powder was the -drollest. The composition, revealed after the Knight's death by his -chemist and steward, George Hartman, was effected in the following -manner:--English vitriol was dissolved in warm water; this solution -was filtered, and then evaporated till a thin scum appeared on the -surface. It was then left undisturbed and closely covered in a cool -place for two or three days, when fair, green, and large crystals were -evolved. "Spread these crystals," continues the chemist, "abroad in a -large flat earthen dish, and expose them to the heat of the sun in the -dog-days, turning them often, and the sun will calcine them white; -when you see them all white without, beat them grossly, and expose -them again to the sun, securing them from the rain; when they are well -calcined, powder them finely, and expose this powder again to the sun, -turning and stirring it often. Continue this until it be reduced to a -white powder, which put up in a glass, and tye it up close, and keep -it in a dry place." - -The virtues of this powder were unfolded by Sir Kenelm, in a French -oration delivered to "a solemn assembly of Nobles and Learned Men at -Montpellier, in France." It cured wounds in the following manner:--If -any piece of a wounded person's apparel, having on it the stain of -blood that had proceeded from the wound, was dipped in water holding -in solution some of this sympathetic powder, the wound of the injured -person would forthwith commence a healing process. It mattered not how -far distant the sufferer was from the scene of operation. Sir Kenelm -gravely related the case of his friend Mr. James Howel, the author of -the "Dendrologia," translated into French by Mons. Baudoin. Coming -accidentally on two of his friends whilst they were fighting a duel -with swords, Howel endeavoured to separate them by grasping hold of -their weapons. The result of this interference was to show the perils -that - - "Environ - The man who meddles with cold iron." - -His hands were severely cut, insomuch that some four or five days -afterwards, when he called on Sir Kenelm, with his wounds plastered -and bandaged up, he said his surgeons feared the supervention of -gangrene. At Sir Kenelm's request, he gave the knight a garter which -was stained with his blood. Sir Kenelm took it, and without saying -what he was about to do, dipped it in a solution of his powder of -vitriol. Instantly the sufferer started. - -"What ails you?" cried Sir Kenelm. - -"I know not what ails me," was the answer; "but I find that I feel no -more pain. Methinks that a pleasing kind of freshnesse, as it were a -cold napkin, did spread over my hand, which hath taken away the -inflammation that tormented me before." - -"Since that you feel," rejoined Sir Kenelm, "already so good an effect -of my medicament, I advise you to cast away all your plaisters. Only -keep the wound clean, and in moderate temper 'twixt heat and cold." - -Mr. Howel went away, sounding the praises of his physician; and the -Duke of Buckingham, hearing what had taken place, hastened to Sir -Kenelm's house to talk about it. The Duke and Knight dined together; -when, after dinner, the latter, to show his guest the wondrous power -of his powder, took the garter out of the solution, and dried it -before the fire. Scarcely was it dry, when Mr. Howel's servant ran in -to say that his master's hand was worse than ever--burning hot, as if -"it were betwixt coales of fire." The messenger was dismissed with the -assurance that ere he reached home his master would be comfortable -again. On the man retiring, Sir Kenelm put the garter back into the -solution--the result of which was instant relief to Mr. Howel. In six -days the wounds were entirely healed. This remarkable case occurred in -London, during the reign of James the First. "King James," says Sir -Kenelm, "required a punctuall information of what had passed touching -this cure; and, after it was done and perfected, his Majesty would -needs know of me how it was done--having drolled with me first (which -he could do with a very good grace) about a magician and sorcerer." On -the promise of inviolable secrecy, Sir Kenelm communicated the secret -to his Majesty; "whereupon his Majesty made sundry proofs, whence he -received singular satisfaction." - -The secret was also communicated by Sir Kenelm to Mayerne, through -whom it was imparted to the Duke of Mayerne--"a long time his friend -and protector." After the Duke's death, his surgeon communicated it to -divers people of quality; so that, ere long, every country-barber was -familiar with the discovery. The mention made of Mayerne in the -lecture is interesting, as it settles a point on which Dr. Aikin had -no information; viz.,--Whether Sir Theodore's Barony of Aubonne was -hereditary or acquired? Sir Kenelm says, "A little while after the -Doctor went to France, to see some fair territories that he had -purchased near Geneva, which was the Barony of Aubonne." - -For a time the Sympathetic Powder was very generally believed in; and -it doubtless did as much good as harm, by inducing people to throw -from their wounds the abominable messes of grease and irritants which -were then honoured with the name of plaisters. "What is this?" asked -Abernethy, when about to examine a patient with a pulsating tumour, -that was pretty clearly an aneurism. - -"Oh! that is a plaister," said the family doctor. - -"Pooh!" said Abernethy, taking it off, and pitching it aside. - -"That was all very well," said the physician, on describing the -occurrence; "but that 'pooh' took several guineas out of my pocket." - -Fashionable as the Sympathetic Powder was for several years, it fell -into complete disrepute in this country before the death of Sir -Kenelm. Hartman, the Knight's attached servant, could, of his own -experience, say nothing more for it than, when dissolved in water, it -was a useful astringent lotion in cases of bleeding from the nose; but -he mentions a certain "Mr. Smith, in the city of Augusta, in Germany, -who told me that he had a great respect for Sir D. K.'s books, and -that he made his sympatheticall powder every year, and did all his -chiefest cures with it in green wounds, with much greater ease to the -patient than if he had used ointments or plaisters." - -In 1643 Sir Kenelm Digby was released from the confinement to which he -had been subjected by the Parliament. The condition of his liberty was -that he forthwith retired to the Continent--having previously pledged -his word as a Christian and a gentleman, in no way to act or plot -against the Parliament. In France he became a celebrity of the highest -order. Returning to England with the Restoration, he resided in "the -last fair house westward in the north portico of Covent Garden," and -became the centre of literary and scientific society. He was appointed -a member of the council of the Royal Society, on the incorporation of -that learned body in the year 1663. His death occurred in his -sixty-second year, on the 11th of June, 1665; and his funeral took -place in Christ's Church, within Newgate, where, several years before, -he had raised a splendid tomb to the memory of the lovely and -abandoned Venetia. His epitaph, by the pen of R. Ferrar, is concise, -and not too eulogistic for a monumental inscription:-- - - "Under this tomb the matchless Digby lies-- - Digby the great, the valiant, and the wise; - This age's wonder for his noble parts, - Skill'd in six tongues, and learned in all the arts. - Born on the day he died--the Eleventh of June-- - And that day bravely fought at Scanderoon. - It's rare that one and the same day should be - His day of birth, and death, and victory." - -After his death, with the approval of his son, was published (1669), -"The Closet of the Eminently Learned Sir Kenelme Digbie, Kt., Opened: -Whereby is discovered Several ways for making of Metheglin, Sider, -Cherry-Wine, &c.; together with excellent Directions for Cookery: as -also for Preserving, Conserving, Candying, &c." The frontispiece of -this work is a portrait of Sir Kenelm, with a shelf over his head, -adorned with his five principal works, entitled, "Plants," "Sym. -Powder," "His Cookery," "Rects. in Physick, &c.," "Sr. K. Digby of -Bodyes." - -In Sir Kenelm's receipts for cookery the gastronome would find -something to amuse him, and more to arouse his horror. Minced pies are -made (as they still are amongst the homely of some counties) of -_meat_, raisins, and spices, mixed. Some of the sweet dishes very -closely resemble what are still served on English tables. The potages -are well enough. But the barley-puddings, pear-puddings, and oat-meal -puddings give ill promise to the ear. It is recommended to batter up a -couple of eggs and a lot of brown sugar in a cup of tea;--a not less -impious profanation of the sacred leaves than that committed by the -Highlanders, mentioned by Sir Walter Scott, who, ignorant of the -proper mode of treating a pound of fragrant Bohea, served it up -in--melted butter! - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -SIR HANS SLOANE. - - -The lives of three physicians--Sydenham, Sir Hans Sloane, and -Heberden--completely bridge over the uncertain period between old -empiricism and modern science. The son of a wealthy Dorsetshire -squire, Sydenham was born in 1624, and received the most important -part of his education in the University of Oxford, where he was -created Bachelor of Medicine 14th April, 1648. Settling in London -about 1661, he was admitted a Licentiate of the Royal College of -Physicians 25th June, 1665. Subsequently he acquired an M.D. degree at -Cambridge, but this step he did not take till 17th May, 1676. He also -studied physic at Montpellier; but it may be questioned if his -professional success was a consequence of his labours in any seat of -learning, so much as a result of that knowledge of the world which he -gained in the Civil war as a captain in the Parliamentary army. It was -he who replied to Sir Richard Blackmore's inquiry after the best -course of study for a medical student to pursue--"Read Don Quixote; it -is a very good book--I read it still." Medical critics have felt it -incumbent on themselves to explain away this memorable answer--attributing -it to the doctor's cynical temper rather than his scepticism with -regard to medicine. When, however, the state of medical science in the -seventeenth century is considered, one has not much difficulty in -believing that the shrewd physician meant exactly what he said. There -is no question but that as a practitioner he was a man of many doubts. -The author of the capital sketch of Sydenham in the "Lives of British -Physicians" says--"At the commencement of his professional life it is -handed down to us by tradition, that it was his ordinary custom, when -consulted by his patients for the first time, to hear attentively the -story of their complaints, and then say, 'Well, I will consider of -your case, and in a few days will order something for you.' But he -soon discovered that this deliberate method of proceeding was not -satisfactory, and that many of the persons so received forgot to come -again; and he was consequently obliged to adopt the usual practice of -prescribing immediately for the diseases of those who sought his -advice." A doctor who feels the need for such deliberation must labour -under considerable perplexity as to the proper treatment of his -patient. But the low opinion he expressed to Blackmore of books as -instructors in medicine, he gave publicly with greater decorum, but -almost as forcibly, in a dedication addressed to Dr. Mapletoft, where -he says, "The medical art could not be learned so well and so surely -as by use and experience; and that he who would pay the nicest and -most accurate attention to the symptoms of distempers would succeed -best in finding out the true means of cure." - -Sydenham died in his house, in Pall Mall, on the 29th of December, -1689. In his last years he was a martyr to gout, a malady fast -becoming one of the good things of the past. Dr. Forbes Winslow, in -his "Physic and Physicians"--gives a picture, at the same time painful -and laughable, of the doctor's sufferings. "Sydenham died of the gout; -and in the latter part of his life is described as visited with that -dreadful disorder, and sitting near an open window, on the ground -floor of his house, in St. James's Square, respiring the cool breeze -on a summer's evening, and reflecting, with a serene countenance and -great complacency, on the alleviation to human misery that his skill -in his art enabled him to give. Whilst this divine man was enjoying -one of these delicious reveries, a thief took away from the table, -near to which he was sitting, a silver tankard filled with his -favourite beverage, small beer, in which a sprig of rosemary had been -immersed, and ran off with it. Sydenham was too lame to ring his bell, -and too feeble in his voice to give the alarm." - -Heberden, the medical friend of Samuel Johnson, was born in London in -1710, and died on the 17th of May, 1801. Between Sydenham and Heberden -came Sir Hans Sloane, a man ever to be mentioned honourably amongst -those physicians who have contributed to the advancement of science, -and the amelioration of society. - -Pope says:-- - - "'Tis strange the miser should his cares employ, - To gain those riches he can ne'er enjoy; - Is it less strange the prodigal should waste - His wealth to purchase what he ne'er can taste? - Not for himself he sees, or hears, or eats, - Artists must chuse his pictures, music, meats; - He buys for Topham drawings and designs, - For Pembroke statues, dirty gods, and coins; - Rare monkish manuscripts, for Hearne alone, - And books for Mead, and butterflies for Sloane." - Pope's _Moral Essays_, Epistle IV. - -Hans Sloane (the seventh and youngest child of Alexander Sloane, -receiver-general of taxes for the county of Down, before and after the -Civil war, and a commissioner of array, after the restoration of -Charles II.) was born at Killileagh in 1660. An Irishman by birth, and -a Scotchman by descent, he exhibited in no ordinary degree the energy -and politeness of either of the sister countries. After a childhood of -extreme delicacy he came to England, and devoted himself to medical -study and scientific investigation. Having passed through a course of -careful labour in London, he visited Paris and Montpellier, and, -returning from the Continent, became the intimate friend of Sydenham. -On the 21st of January, 1685, he was elected a Fellow of the Royal -Society; and on the 12th of April, 1687, he became a Fellow of the -College of Physicians. In the September of the latter year he sailed -to the West Indies, in the character of physician to the Duke of -Albemarle, who had been appointed Governor of Jamaica. His residence -in that quarter of the globe was not of long duration. On the death of -his Grace the doctor attended the Duchess back to England, arriving -once more in London in the July of 1689. From that time he remained in -the capital--his professional career, his social position, and his -scientific reputation being alike brilliant. From 1694 to 1730, he was -a physician of Christ's Hospital. On the 30th of November, 1693, he -was elected Secretary of the Royal Society. In 1701 he was made an -M.D. of Oxford; and in 1705 he was elected into the fellowship of the -College of Physicians of Edinburgh. In 1708 he was chosen a Fellow of -the Royal Academy of Sciences of Paris. Four years later he was -elected a member of the Royal Society of Berlin. In 1719 he became -president of the College of Physicians; and in 1727 he was created -President of the Royal Society (on the death of Sir Isaac Newton), and -was appointed physician to King George II. In addition to these -honours, he won the distinction of being the first[6] medical -practitioner advanced to the dignity of a baronetcy. - - [6] The learned Librarian of the College of Physicians in a letter to - me, elicited by the first edition of "The Book About Doctors," - observes on this point: "Sir Hans Sloane is commonly stated to have - been the first medical baronet, but I think incorrectly. Sir Edmund - Greaves, M. D., a Fellow of the College, who died 11th Nov., 1680, is - said, and I am disposed to think with truth, to have been created a - Baronet at Oxford in 1645. Anthony A. Wood it is true calls him a - 'pretended baronet,' but he was acknowledged to be a true and - veritable one by his colleagues of our college, and considering the - jealousy of physicians, which is not quite so great by the way as you - seem to think, this is no small testimony in favour of my belief. In - the 5th edition of Guillim's Heraldry he is made to be the 450th - baronet from the first institution of the order, and is placed between - William de Borcel of Amsterdam and George Carteret of Jersey. If you - think the matter worthy of investigation you may turn to Nash's - Worcestershire, vol. i., p. 198." - -In 1742, Sir Hans Sloane quitted his professional residence at -Bloomsbury; and in the society of his library, museum, and a select -number of scientific friends, spent the last years of his life at -Chelsea, the manor of which parish he had purchased in 1722. - -In the _Gentleman's Magazine_ for 1748, there is a long but -interesting account of a visit paid by the Prince and Princess of -Wales to the Baronet's museum. Sir Hans received his royal guests and -entertained them with a banquet of curiosities, the tables being -cleverly shifted, so that a succession of "courses," under glass -cases, gave the charm of variety to the labours of observation. - -In his old age Sir Hans became sadly penurious, grudging even the -ordinary expenses of hospitality. His intimate friend, George Edwards, -F.R.S., gives, in his "Gleanings of Natural History," some particulars -of the old Baronet, which present a stronger picture of his parsimony -than can be found in the pages of his avowed detractors. - -"Sir Hans, in the decline of his life, left London and retired to his -manor-house, at Chelsea, where he resided about fourteen years before -he died. After his retirement at Chelsea, he requested it as a favour -to him (though I embraced it as an honour due to myself), that I would -visit him every week, in order to divert him for an hour or two with -the common news of the town, and with everything particular that -should happen amongst his acquaintance of the Royal Society, and other -ingenious gentlemen, many of whom I was weekly conversant with; and I -seldom missed drinking coffee with him on a Saturday, during the whole -time of his retirement at Chelsea. He was so infirm as to be wholly -confined to his house, except sometimes, though rarely, taking a -little air in his garden in a wheeled chair; and this confinement made -him very desirous to see any of his old acquaintance, to amuse him. He -was strictly careful that I should be at no expense in my journeys -from London to Chelsea to wait on him, knowing that I did not -superabound in the gifts of fortune. He would calculate what the -expense of coach-hire, waterage, or any other little charge that might -attend on my journeys backward and forward would amount to, and would -oblige me annually to accept of it, though I would willingly have -declined it." - -Such generosity speaks of a parsimonious temper and habit more -forcibly than positive acts of stinginess would. - -On the death of Sir Hans Sloane, on the 11th of January, 1753, his -museum and library passed into the hands of the nation for a -comparatively small sum of money, and became the nucleus of our -British Museum. - -The Royal Society of Sir Hans Sloane's time differed widely from the -Royal Society of the present day. The reader of Mr. Charles Weld's -history of that distinguished fraternity smiles a painful smile at the -feeble steps of its first members in the direction of natural science. -The efficacy of the divining rod, and the merits of Sir Kenelm Digby's -sympathetic powder, were the subjects that occupied the attention of -the philosophers of Charles II.'s reign. Entries such as the following -are the records of their proceedings:-- - -"_June 5._--Col. Tuke related the manner of the rain like corn at -Norwich, and Mr Boyle and Mr Evelyn were entreated to sow some of -those rained seeds to try their product. - -"Magneticall cures were then discoursed of. Sir Gilbert Talbot -promised to bring what he knew of sympathetical cures. Those that had -any powder of sympathy were desired to bring some of it at the next -meeting. - -"Mr Boyle related of a gentleman, who, having made some experiments of -the ayre, essayed the quicksilver experiment at the top and bottom of -a hill, when there was found three inches difference. - -"Dr Charleton promised to bring in that white powder, which, put into -water, heates that. - -"The Duke of Buckingham promised to cause charcoal to be distilled by -his chymist. - -"His Grace promised to bring into the society a piece of a unicorne's -horn. - -"Sir Kenelme Digby related that the calcined powder of toades -reverberated, applyed in bagges upon the stomach of a pestiferate -body, cures it by several applications." - -"_June 13._--Colonel Tuke brought in the history of rained seedes, -which were reported to have fallen downe from heaven in Warwickshire -and Shropshire, &c. - -"That the dyving engine be going forward with all speed, and the -treasurer to procure the lead and moneys. - -"Ordered, that Friday next the engine be tried at Deptford." - -"_June 26._--Dr Ent, Dr Clarke, Dr Goddard, and Dr Whistler, were -appointed curators of the proposition made by Sir G. Talbot, to -torment a man presently with the sympatheticall powder. - -"Sir G. Talbot brought in his experiments of the sympathetick cures." - -It is true that these passages relate to transactions of the Royal -Society that occurred long before Sir Hans was one of the body. But -even in his time the advances made towards greater enlightenment were -few and feeble, when compared with the strides of science during the -last century. So simple and childish were the operations and -speculations of the Society in the first half of the eighteenth -century, that even Sir John Hill was able to cover them with ridicule. - -Sir Hans had two medical successors in the presidentship of the Royal -Society--Sir John Pringle, Bart., elected Nov. 30, 1772, and William -Hyde Wollaston, M.D., elected June 29, 1820. The last-mentioned -physician had but a brief tenure of the dignity, for he retired from -the exalted post on Nov. 30, 1820, in favor of Sir Humphrey Davy, -Bart. - -Humphrey Davy (the son of the Penzance woodcarver, who was known to -his acquaintances as "Little Carver Davy") was the most acute natural -philosopher of his generation, and at the same time about the vainest -and most eccentric of his countrymen. With all his mental energy, he -was disfigured by a moral pettiness, which, to a certain extent, -justified Wordsworth's unaccustomed bitterness in "A Poet's -Epitaph":-- - - "Physician art thou? one all eyes; - Philosopher? a fingering slave, - One that would peep and botanize - Upon his mother's grave! - - "Wrapt closely in thy sensual fleece, - O turn aside--and take, I pray, - That he below may rest in peace, - Thy ever-dwindling soul away!" - -At the summit of his success, Davy was morbidly sensitive of the -humility of his extraction. That his father had been a respectable -mechanic--that his mother, on her husband's death, had established -herself as milliner in Penzance, in order to apprentice her son to an -apothecary in that town--that by his own intellects, in the hard -battle of life, he had raised himself from obscure poverty to a -brilliant eminence--were to him facts of shame, instead of pride. In -contradiction to this moral cowardice, there was in him, on some -points, an extravagant eccentricity, which, in most men, would have -pointed to imperviousness to ridicule. The demands of society, and the -labours of his laboratory, of course left him with but little leisure. -He, however, affected not to have time enough for the ordinary -decencies of the toilet. Cold ablutions neither his constitution nor -his philosophic temperament required, so he rarely washed himself. -And, on the plea of saving time, he used to put on his clean linen -over his dirty--so that he has been known to wear at the same time -five shirts and five pairs of stockings. On the rare occasions when he -divested himself of his superfluous integuments, he caused infinite -perplexity to his less intimate friends, who could not account for his -rapid transition from corpulence to tenuity. - -The ludicrousness of his costume did not end there. Like many other -men of powerful and excitable minds, he was very fond of angling; and -on the banks of the Thames he might be found, at all unsuitable -seasons, in a costume that must have been a source of no common -merriment to the river nymphs. His coat and breeches were of green -cloth. On his head he wore a hat that Dr. Paris describes as "having -been originally intended for a coal-heaver, but as having, when in its -raw state, been dyed green by some sort of pigment." In this attire -Davy flattered himself that he resembled vegetable life as closely as -it was possible for mortal to do. - -But if his angling dress was droll, his shooting costume was more so. -His great fear as an angler was that the fish should escape him; his -greatest anxiety as a bearer of a gun was to escape being shot. In the -one character, concealment was his chief object--in the other, -revelation. So that he might be seen from a distance, and run fewer -chances of being fired into by accident, he was accustomed on shooting -excursions, to crown himself with a broad-brimmed hat, covered with -scarlet. It never struck him that, in our Protestant England, he -incurred imminent peril of being mistaken for a cardinal, and knocked -over accordingly. - -Naturally, Davy was of a poetical temperament; and some of his boyish -poetry possesses merit that unquestionably justifies the anticipation -formed by his poet-friends of the flights his more mature muse would -take. But when his intellect became absorbed in the pursuits by which -he rendered inestimable service to his species, he never renewed the -bright imaginings of his day-spring. - -On passing (in 1809) through the galleries of the Louvre, he could -find nothing more worthy of admiration than the fine frames of the -pictures. "What an extraordinary collection of fine frames!" he -observed to the gentleman who acted as his guide, amidst the treasures -of art gathered from every part of the Continent. His attention was -directed to the "Transfiguration"; when, on its being suggested to him -that he was looking at a rather well-executed picture, he said, -coldly, "Indeed! I am glad I have seen it." In the same way, the -statues were to him simply blocks of material. In the Apollo -Belvidere, the Laocoon, and the Venus dei Medici, he saw no beauty; -but when his eyes rested on the Antinous, treated in the Egyptian -style, and sculptured in alabaster, he made an exclamation of delight, -and cried, "Gracious powers, what a beautiful stalactite!" - -More amusing than even these criticisms, is a story told of Lady Davy, -who accompanied her husband to Paris. She was walking in the Tuileries -garden, wearing the fashionable London bonnet of the day--shaped like -a cockle-shell. The Parisians, who just then were patronizing bonnets -of enormous dimensions, were astounded at the apparition of a -head-dress so opposed to their notions of the everlasting fitness of -things; and with the good breeding for which they are and have long -been proverbial, they surrounded the daring stranger, and stared at -her. This was sufficiently unpleasant to a timid English lady. But her -discomfort had only commenced. Ere another minute or two had elapsed, -one of the inspectors of the garden approached, and telling her -Ladyship that no cause of _rassemblement_ could be permitted in that -locality, requested her to retire. Alarmed and indignant, she appealed -to some officers of the Imperial Guard, but they could afford her no -assistance. One of them politely offered her his arm, and proposed to -conduct her to a carriage. But by the time she had decided to profit -by the courtesy, such a crowd had gathered together, that it was found -necessary to send for a guard of infantry, and remove _la belle -Anglaise_, surrounded with bayonets. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -THE APOTHECARIES AND SIR SAMUEL GARTH. - - -Baldwin Hamey, whose manuscript memoirs of eminent physicians are -among the treasures of the College, praises Winston because he treated -his apothecary as a master might a slave. "Heriliter imperavit," says -the Doctor. The learned Thomas Winston, anatomy lecturer at Gresham -College, lived to the age of eighty years, and died on the 24th of -October, 1655. He knew, therefore, apothecaries in the day of their -humility--before prosperity had encouraged them to compete with their -professional superiors. - -The apothecaries of the Elizabethan era compounded their medicines -much as medicines are compounded at the present--as far as -manipulation and measuring are concerned. Prescriptions have altered, -but shop-customs have undergone only a very slight change. The -apothecaries' table of weights and measures, still in use, was the -rule in the sixteenth century, and the symbols (for a pound, an ounce, -a drachm, a scruple, a grain, &c.) remain at this day just what they -were three hundred years ago. - -Our good friend, William Bulleyn, gave the following excellent rules -for an apothecary's life and conduct:-- - -"THE APOTICARYE. - -"1.--Must fyrst serve God, forsee the end, be clenly, pity the poore. - -"2.--Must not be suborned for money to hurt mankynde. - -"3.--His place of dwelling and shop to be clenly to please the sences -withal. - -"4.--His garden must be at hand with plenty of herbes, seedes, and -rootes. - -"5.--To sow, set, plant, gather, preserve and kepe them in due tyme. - -"6.--To read Dioscorides, to know ye natures of plants and herbes. - -"7.--To invent medicines to chose by coloure, tast, odour, figure, &c. - -"8.--To have his morters, stilles, pottes, filters, glasses, boxes, -cleane and sweete. - -"9.--To have charcoals at hand, to make decoctions, syrupes, &c. - -"10.--To kepe his cleane ware closse, and cast away the baggage. - -"11.--To have two places in his shop--one most cleane for the phisik, -and a baser place for the chirurgie stuff. - -"12.--That he neither increase nor diminish the physician's bill (_i. -e._ prescription), and kepe it for his own discharge. - -"13.--That he neither buy nor sel rotten drugges. - -"14.--That he peruse often his wares, that they corrupt not. - -"15.--That he put not in _quid pro quo_ (_i. e._, use one ingredient -in the place of another, when dispensing a physician's prescription) -without advysement. - -"16.--That he may open wel a vein for to helpe pleuresy. - -"17.--That he meddle only in his vocation. - -"18.--That he delyte to reede Nicolaus Myrepsus, Valerius Cordus, -Johannes Placaton, the Lubik, &c. - -"19.--That he do remember his office is only to be ye physician's -cooke. - -"20.--That he use true measure and waight. - -"21.--To remember his end, and the judgment of God: and thus I do -commend him to God, if he be not covetous, or crafty, seeking his own -lucre before other men's help, succour, and comfort." - -The apothecaries to whom these excellent directions were given were -only tradesmen--grocers who paid attention to the commands of -physicians. They were not required to have any knowledge of the -medical science, beyond what might be obtained by the perusal of two -or three writers; they were not to presume to administer drugs on -their own judgment and responsibility--or to perform any surgical -operation, except phlebotomy, and that only for one malady. The custom -was for the doctors to sell their most valuable remedies as nostrums, -keeping their composition a secret to themselves, and themselves -taking the price paid for them by the sick. The commoner drugs were -vended to patients by the drug-merchants (who invariably dealt in -groceries for culinary use, as well as in medicinal simples), acting -under the directions of the learned graduates of the Faculty. - -In the fourth year of James I., a charter was obtained, that "Willed, -ordained, and granted, that all and singular the Freemen of the -Mystery of Grocers and Apothecaries of the City of London ... should -and might be ... one body corporate and politique, in deed, fact, and -name, by the name of Warden and Commonalty of the Mystery of Grocers -of the City of London." But in the thirteenth year of the same king, -the apothecaries and grocers were disunited. At the advice of Theodore -de Mayerne and Henry Atkins, doctors in physick, another charter was -granted, constituting drug-venders a distinct company. Amongst the -apothecaries mentioned in this charter are the names of the most -respectable families of the country. Gideon de Laune, one of this -first batch of apothecaries, amassed a very large fortune in his -vocation, and founded a family at Sharsted, in Kent, from which -several persons of distinction draw part of their origin; and not a -few of De Laune's brethren were equally lucky. - -At their first foundation as a company the apothecaries were put -completely under control of the College of Physicians, who were -endowed with dangerous powers of inspecting their wares and punishing -their malpractices. But before a generation had passed away, the -apothecaries had gained such a firm footing in society that the more -prosperous of them could afford to laugh at the censures of the -College; and before the close of a century they were fawned upon by -young physicians, and were in a position to quarrel with the old. - -The doctors of that day knew so little that the apothecaries found it -easy to know as much. A knowledge of the herbals, an acquaintance with -the ingredients and doses of a hundred empirical compounds and -systems of maltreating eruptive fevers, gout, and consumption, -constituted all the medical learning of such men as Mayerne or -Gibbons. To pick up that amount of information was no hard task for an -ambitious apothecary. - -Soon the leading apothecaries began to prescribe on their own -responsibility, without the countenance of a member of the College. If -they were threatened with censure or other punishment by a regular -physician, they retorted by discontinuing to call him in to -consultations. Jealousies soon sprang up. Starving graduates, with the -diplomas of Oxford and Cambridge and the certificates of the College -in their pockets, were embittered by having to trudge the pavements of -London, and see the mean medicine-mixers (who had scarce scholarship -enough to construe a Latin bill) dashing by in their carriages. Ere -long the heartburnings broke out in a paper warfare, as rancorous and -disreputable as any squabble embalmed in literature. The scholars -called the rich tradesmen thieves, swindlers, and unlettered -blockheads. The rich tradesmen taunted the scholars with discontent, -falsehood, and ignorance of everything except Latin and Greek. - -Pope took the side of the physicians. Like Johnson, Parr, and all men -of enlightenment and sound scholarship, he had a high opinion of the -Faculty. It is indeed told of him, on questionable authority, that on -his death-bed, when he heard the bickerings of Dr. Burton and Dr. -Thompson, each accusing the other of maltreating his patient, he -levelled with his last breath an epigram at the two rivals-- - - "Dunces, rejoice, forgive all censures past-- - The greatest dunce has killed your foe at last." - -To Dr. Arbuthnot he wrote-- - - "Friend to my life, which did not you prolong, - The world had wanted many an idle song." - -His feeble health, making his life a long disease, never allowed him -vigour and confidence enough to display ingratitude to the Faculty, -and illustrate the truth of the lines-- - - "God and the doctor we alike adore, - But only when in danger, not before; - The danger o'er, both are alike requited, - God is forgotten, and the doctor slighted." - -His habitual tone, when speaking of the medical profession, was that -of warm admiration and affection. In the "Imitations of Horace" he -says-- - - "Weak though I am of limb, and short of sight, - Far from a lynx, and not a giant quite, - I'll do what Mead and Cheselden advise, - To keep these limbs, and to preserve these eyes." - -It is true that he elsewhere ridicules Mead's fondness for rare books -and Sloane's passion for butterflies; but at the close of his days he -wrote in a confidential letter to a friend of the Faculty, "They are -in general the most amiable companions and the best friends, as well -as the most learned men I know." - -In the protracted dissensions between the physicians and the -apothecaries Pope was a cordial supporter of the former. When he -accused, in the "Essay on Criticism," the penny-a-lining critics of -acquiring their slender knowledge of the poetic art from the poets -they assailed, he compared them to apothecaries whose scientific -information was pilfered from the prescriptions they were required to -dispense. - - "Then Criticism the Muse's handmaid proved, - To dress her charms and make her more beloved: - But following wits from that intention stray'd. - Who could not win the mistress, woo'd the maid; - Against the poets their own arms they turn'd, - Sure to hate most the men from whom they learn'd. - So modern 'Pothecaries, taught the art - By Doctors' bills to play the Doctor's part, - Bold in the practice of mistaken rules, - Prescribe, apply, and call their masters fools." - -The origin of the memorable Dispensarian Campaign between the College -of Physicians and the Company of Apothecaries is a story that can be -briefly told. The younger physicians, impatient at beholding the -prosperity and influence of the apothecaries, and the older ones -indignant at seeing a class of men they despised creeping into their -quarters and craftily laying hold of a portion of their monopoly, -concocted a scheme to reinstate themselves in public favour. Without a -doubt many of the physicians who countenanced this scheme gave it -their support from purely charitable motives; but it cannot be -questioned that as a body the dispensarians were actuated in their -humanitarian exertions by a desire to lower the apothecaries, and -raise themselves in the eyes of the world. With all its genuine and -sterling benevolence, the medical profession, by the unworthy and -silly conduct of its obscure members, has repeatedly laid itself open -to the charge of trading on its reputation for humanity. In Smollett's -time, as his novels show, the recognized mode employed by unknown -doctors to puff themselves into notoriety and practice, was to get up -little hospitals and infirmaries, and advertise to the charitable for -aid in the good task of ameliorating the condition of the poor. And -half the peddling little charitable institutions, infirmaries, -dispensaries, or hospitals, that at the present time rob the rich and -do harm to the poor in every quarter of London, originated in "the -friends" of young physicians and surgeons conspiring together to get -them "the position of being attached to an hospital staff." In 1687, -the physicians at a college-meeting, voted "that all members of the -College, whether Fellows, Candidates, or Licentiates, should give -their advice gratis to all their sick neighbouring poor, when desired, -within the city of London, or seven miles round." - -To give prescriptions to the very poor, unaccompanied with the means -of getting them dispensed, is of little use. Sir Astley Cooper used to -see in the vicinity of his residence the slips of paper, marked with -his pen, which it was his wont to distribute gratuitously to indigent -applicants. The fact was, the poor people, finding it beyond their -means to pay the druggist for dispensing them, threw them away in -disgust. It was just the same in 1687. The poor folk carried their -prescriptions to the apothecaries, to learn that the trade charge for -dispensing them was beyond their means. The physicians asserted that -the demands of the drug-venders were extortionate, and were not -reduced to meet the finances of the applicants, to the end that the -undertakings of benevolence might prove abortive. This was of course -absurd. The apothecaries knew their own interests better than so to -oppose a system which at least rendered drug-consuming fashionable -with the lower orders. Perhaps they regarded the poor as their -peculiar field of practice, and felt insulted at having the same -humble people--for whom they had pompously prescribed and put up -boluses at two-pence apiece--now entering their shops with papers -dictating what the two-penny bolus was to be composed of. But the -charge preferred against them was groundless. Indeed, a numerous body -of the apothecaries expressly offered to sell medicines "to the poor -within their respective parishes, at such rates as the committee of -physicians should think reasonable." - -But this would not suit the game of the physicians. "A proposal was -started by a committee of the College, that the College should furnish -the medicines of the poor, and perfect alone that charity which the -apothecaries refused to concur in; and after divers methods -ineffectually tried, and much time wasted in endeavouring to bring the -Apothecaries to terms of reason in relation to the poor, an instrument -was subscribed by divers charitably disposed members of the College, -now in number about fifty, wherein they obliged themselves to pay ten -pounds apiece towards the preparing and delivering medicines at their -intrinsic value." Such was the version of the affair given by the -College apologists. The plan was acted upon; and a dispensary was -eventually established (some nine years after the vote of 1687) in the -College of Physicians, Warwick Lane, where medicines were vended to -the poor at cost price. - -This measure of the College was impolitic and unjustifiable. It was -unjust to that important division of the trade who were ready to vend -the medicines at rates to be fixed by the College authorities--for it -took altogether out of their hands the small amount of profit which -they, as _dealers_, could have realized on those terms. It was also an -eminently unwise course. The College sank to the level of the -Apothecaries' Hall, becoming an emporium for the sale of medicines. -It was all very well to say that no profit was made on such sale--the -censorious world would not believe it. The apothecaries and their -friends denied that such was the fact, and avowed that the benevolent -dispensarians were bent only on underselling and ruining them. - -Again, the movement introduced dissension within the walls of the -College. Many of the first physicians, with the conservatism of -success, did not care to offend the apothecaries, who were continually -calling them in, and paying them fees. They therefore joined in the -cry against the dispensary. The profession was split up into -dispensarians and anti-dispensarians. The apothecaries combined and -agreed not to recommend the dispensarians. The anti-dispensarians -repaid this ill service by refusing to meet dispensarians in -consultation. Sir Thomas Millington, the president of the College, -Edward Hulse, Hans Sloane, John Woodward, Sir Edmund King, and Samuel -Garth were amongst the latter. Of them the last-named was the man who -rendered the most efficient service to his party. - -Garth is perhaps the most cherished by the present generation of all -the physicians of Pope's time. He was a Whig without rancour, and a -bon-vivant without selfishness. Full of jest and amiability, he did -more to create merriment at the Kit-Kat club than either Swift or -Arbuthnot. He loved wine to excess; but then wine loved him too, -ripening and warming his wit, and leaving no sluggish humour behind. -His practice was a good one, but his numerous patients prized his -_bon-mots_ more than his prescriptions. His enemies averred that he -was not only an epicure, but a profligate voluptuary and an infidel. -Pope, however, wrote of him after his death, "If ever there was a good -Christian, without knowing himself to be so, it was Dr. Garth." Pope -had honoured him when alive by dedicating his second pastoral to him. - - "Accept, O Garth, the muse's early lays, - That adds this wreath of ivy to thy bays; - Hear what from love unpractised hearts endure, - From love, the sole disease thou canst not cure." - -A good picture of Garth the politician is found in the "Journal to -Stella." "London, Nov. 17, 1711," writes Swift--"This is Queen -Elizabeth's birthday, usually kept in this town by apprentices, &c.; -but the Whigs designed a mighty procession by midnight, and had laid -out a thousand pounds to dress up the pope, devil, cardinals, -Sacheverel, &c., and carry them with torches about and burn them. They -did it by contribution. Garth gave five guineas; Dr. Garth I mean, if -ever you heard of him. But they were seized last night by order from -the Secretary.... The figures are now at the Secretary's Office at -Whitehall. I design to see them if I can." - -A Whig, but the friend of Tories, Garth cordially disliked Sir Richard -Blackmore, a member of his own profession and political party. -Blackmore was an anti-dispensarian, a bad poet, and a pure and rigid -moralist. Naturally Garth abominated him, and sneered at him for his -pomposity and bad scholarship. It is to be regretted that Garth, with -the vulgarity of the age, twitted him with his early poverty, and with -having been--a schoolmaster. To ridicule his enemy Garth composed the -following verses:-- - - "TO THE MERRY POETASTER, AT SADLER'S - HALL, IN CHEAPSIDE. - - "Unwieldy pedant, let thy awkward muse - With censures praise, with flatteries abuse; - To lash, and not be felt, in thee's an art, - That ne'er mad'st any but thy school-boys smart. - Then be advised and scribble not again-- - Thou'rt fashion'd for a flail and not a pen. - If B----l's immortal wit thou would'st decry, - Pretend 'tis he that wrote thy poetry. - Thy feeble satire ne'er can do him wrong-- - Thy poems and thy patients live not long." - -Garth's death, as described by William Ayre, was characteristic. He -was soon tired of an invalid's suffering and helplessness, the _ennui_ -and boredom of the sick-room afflicting him more than the bodily pain. -"Gentlemen," said he to the crowd of weeping friends who stood round -his bed, "I wish the ceremony of death was over." And so, sinking -lower in the bed, he died without a struggle. He had previously, on -being informed that his end was approaching, expressed pleasure at the -intelligence, because he was tired of having his shoes pulled off and -on. The manner of Garth's exit reminds one of the death of Rabelais, -also a physician. The presence of officious friends troubled him; and -when he saw his doctors consulting together, he raised his head from -his pillow and said with a smile, "Dear gentlemen, let me die a -natural death." After he had received extreme unction, a friend -approached him, and asked him how he did. "I am going on my journey," -was the answer--"they have greased my boots already." - -Garth has, apart from his literary productions, one great claim on -posterity. To him Dryden owed honourable interment. When the great -poet died, Garth caused his body to be conveyed to the College of -Physicians, and started a public subscription to defray the expenses -of the funeral. He pronounced an oration over the deceased at the -College in Warwick Lane, and then accompanied it to Westminster Abbey. - -Of the stories preserved of Garth's social humour some are exquisitely -droll. Writing a letter at a coffee-house, he found himself overlooked -by a curious Irishman, who was impudently reading every word of the -epistle. Garth took no notice of the impertinence, until he had -finished and signed the body of the letter, when he added a -postscript, of unquestionable legibility: "I would write you more by -this post, but there's a d---- tall impudent Irishman looking over my -shoulder all the time." - -"What do you mean, sir?" roared the Irishman in a fury. "Do you think -I looked over your letter?" - -"Sir," replied the physician, "I never once opened my lips to you." - -"Ay, but you have put it down, for all that." - -"'Tis impossible, sir, that you should know that, for you have never -once looked over my letter." - -Stumbling into a Presbyterian church one Sunday, for pastime, he found -a pathetic preacher shedding tears over the iniquity of the earth. - -"What makes the man greet?" asked Garth of a bystander. - -"By my faith," was the answer, "and you too would greet if you were in -his place and had as little to say." - -"Come along, my dear fellow," responded Garth to his new acquaintance, -"and dine with me. You are too good a fellow to be here." - -At the Kit-Kat he once stayed to drink long after he had said that he -must be off to see his patients. Sir Richard, more humane than the -physician, or possibly, like the rest of the world, not disinclined to -be virtuous at another's expense, observed, "Really, Garth, you ought -to have no more wine, but be off to see those poor devils." - -"It's no great matter," Garth replied, "whether I see them to-night or -not, for nine of them have such bad constitutions, that all the -physicians in the world can't save them; and the other six have such -good constitutions, that all the physicians in the world can't kill -them." - -Born of a respectable north-country family, Garth was educated first -at a provincial school, and then at Cambridge. He was admitted a -Fellow of the College of Physicians on June 26, 1692, just when the -quarrel of the Physicians and Apothecaries was waxing to its hottest, -_i. e._ between the College edict of 1687, ordaining gratuitous -advice, and the creation of the dispensary in 1696. As a young man he -saw that his right place was with the dispensarians--and he took it. -For a time his great poem, "The Dispensary," covered the apothecaries -and anti-dispensarians with ridicule. It rapidly passed through -numerous editions--in each of which, as was elegantly observed, the -world lost and gained much. To say that of all the books, pamphlets, -and broad-sheets thrown out by the combatants on both sides, it is by -far the one of the greatest merit, would be scant justice, when it -might almost be said that it is the only one of them that can now be -read by a gentleman without a sense of annoyance and disgust. There is -no point of view from which the medical profession appears in a more -humiliating and contemptible light than that which the literature of -this memorable squabble presents to the student. Charges of ignorance, -dishonesty, and extortion were preferred on both sides; and the -dispensarian physicians did not hesitate to taunt their brethren of -the opposite camp with playing corruptly into the hands of the -apothecaries--prescribing enormous and unnecessary quantities of -medicine, so that the drug-venders might make heavy bills, and, as a -consequence, recommend in all directions such complacent _superiors_ -to be called in. Garth's poem, unfair and violent though it is, seldom -offends against decency. As a work of art it cannot be ranked high, -and is now deservedly forgotten, although it has many good lines, and -some felicitous satire. Johnson rightly pointed to the secret of its -success, though he took a one-sided and unjust view of the dissensions -which called it forth. "The poem," observes the biographer, "as its -subject was present and popular, co-operated with passions and -prejudices then prevalent; and, with such auxiliaries to its intrinsic -merit, was universally and liberally applauded. It was on the side of -charity against the intrigues of interest, and of regular learning -against licentious usurpation of medical authority." - -Sir Samuel Garth (knighted by the sword of Marlborough) died January -18, 1718-19, and was buried at Harrow-on-the-Hill. - -But he lived to see the apothecaries gradually emancipate themselves -from the ignominious regulations to which they consented, when their -vocation was first separated from the grocery trade. Four years after -his death they obtained legal acknowledgment of their right to -dispense and sell medicines without the prescription of a physician; -and six years later the law again decided in their favour, with regard -to the physicians' right of examining and condemning their drugs. In -1721, Mr. Rose, an apothecary, on being prosecuted by the College for -prescribing as well as compounding medicines, carried the matter into -the House of Lords, and obtained a favourable decision. And from 1727, -in which year Mr. Goodwin, an apothecary, obtained in a court of law a -considerable sum for an illegal seizure of his wares (by Drs. -Arbuthnot, Bale, and Levit), the physicians may be said to have -discontinued to exercise their privileges of inspection. - -Arbuthnot did not exceed Garth in love to the apothecaries. His -contempt for, and dislike of, the fraternity, inspired him to write -his "Essay on an Apothecary." He thinks it a pity that, to prevent the -country from being overrun with apothecaries, it should not be allowed -to anatomize them, for the improvement of natural knowledge. He -ridicules them for pedantically "dressing all their discourse in the -language of the Faculty." - -"At meals," he says, "they distributed their wine with a little lymph, -dissected a widgeon, cohobated their pease-porridge, and amalgamated a -custard. A morsel of beef was a bolus; a grillard was sacrificed; -eating was mastication and deglutition; a dish of steaks was a -compound of many powerful ingredients; and a plate of soup was a very -exalted preparation. In dress, a suit of cloaths was a system, a -loophole a valve, and a surtout an integument. Cloth was a texture of -fibres spread into a drab or kersey; a small rent in it was cutaneous; -a thread was a filament; and the waistband of the breeches the -peritoneum." - -The superior branch of the Faculty invited in many ways the same -satire. Indeed, pedantry was the prevalent fault of the manners of the -eighteenth century. The physician, the divine, the lawyer, the -parliament-man, the country gentleman, the author by profession--all -had peculiarities of style, costume, speech, or intonation, by which -they were well pleased they should be recognised. In one respect, this -was well; men were proud of being what they were, and desired to be -known as belonging to their respective vocations. They had no anxiety -to be free from trade-marks. The barrister's smirk, the physician's -unctuous smiles, the pedagogue's frown, did not originate in a mean -desire to be taken for something of higher mark and esteem than they -really were. - -From the time when Bulleyn called him the physician's cook, down to -the present, generation, the pure apothecary is found holding a very -subordinate position. His business is to do unpleasant drudgery that a -gentleman finds it unpleasant to perform, but which cannot be left to -the hands of a nurse. The questions to be considered previous to -becoming an apprentice to an apothecary, put in Chemberlaine's -"Tyrocinium Medicum," well describe the state of the apothecary's -pupil. "Can you bear the thoughts of being obliged to get up out of -your warm bed, on a cold winter's night, or rather morning, to make up -medicines which your employer, just arrived through frost and snow, -prescribes for a patient taken suddenly or dangerously ill?--or, -supposing that your master is not in sufficient business to keep a -boy to take out medicines, can you make up your mind to think it no -hardship to take them to the patient after you have made them up?" -&c., &c. When such services were expected from pupils studying for -admittance to the craft, of course boys with ample means, or prospects -elsewhere, did not as a rule desire to become apothecaries. - -Within the last fifty years changes have been affected in various -departments of the medical profession, that have rendered the -apothecary a feature of the past, and transferred his old functions to -a new labourer. Prior to 1788, it is stated on authority there were -not in all London more than half-a-dozen druggists who dispensed -medicines from physicians' prescriptions. Before that time, the -apothecaries--the members of the Apothecaries' Company--were almost -the sole compounders and preparers of drugs. At the present time it is -exceptional for an apothecary to put up prescriptions, unless he is -acting as the family or ordinary medical attendant to the patient -prescribed for. As a young man, indeed, he sometimes condescends to -keep an open shop; but as soon as he can get on without "counter" -business, he leaves the commercial part of his occupation to the -druggist, as beneath his dignity. The dispensing chemists and -druggists, whose shops, flashing with blue bottles (last remnant of -empiric charlatanry), brighten our street corners and scare our horses -at night, are the apothecaries of the last century. The apothecary -himself--that is, the member of the Company--is hardly ever found as -an apothecary _pur et simple_. He enrolls himself at "the hall" for -the sake of being able to sue ungrateful patients for money due to -him. But in the great majority of cases he is also a Fellow or Member -of the College of Surgeons, and acts as a general practitioner; that -is, he does anything and everything--prescribes and dispenses his -prescriptions; is at the same time physician, surgeon, accoucheur, and -dentist. Physic and surgery were divided at a very early date in -theory, but in practice they were combined by eminent physicians till -a comparatively recent period. And yet later the physician performed -the functions of the apothecary, just as the apothecary presumed to -discharge the offices of physician. It was not derogatory to the -dignity of a leading physician, in the reign of Charles the Second, to -keep a shop, and advertise the wares vended in it, announcing in the -same manner their prices. Dr. Mead realized large sums by the sale of -worthless nostrums. And only a few years since, a distinguished -Cambridge physician, retaining as an octogenarian the popularity he -had achieved as a young man, in one of our eastern counties, used to -sell his "gout tincture"--a secret specific against gout--at so many -shillings per bottle. In many respects the general practitioner of -this century would consider his professional character compromised if -he adopted the customs generally in vogue amongst the physicians of -the last. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -QUACKS. - - "So then the subject being so variable, hath made the art by - consequence more conjectural; an art being conjectural hath - made so much the more place to be left for imposture. For - almost all other arts and sciences are judged by acts or - masterpieces, as I may term them, and not by the successes - and events. The lawyer is judged by the virtue of his - pleading, and not by the issue of the cause. The master of - the ship is judged by the directing his course aright, and - not by the fortune of the voyage. But the physician, and - perhaps the politician, hath no particular acts - demonstrative of his ability, but is judged most by the - event; which is ever but as it is taken: for who can tell, - if a patient die or recover, or if a state be preserved or - ruined, whether it be art or accident? and therefore many - times the impostor is prized, and the man of virtue taxed. - _Nay, we see the weakness and credulity of men is such, as - they will often prefer a mountebank or witch before a - learned physician._"--Lord Bacon's "_Advancement of - Learning_." - - -The history of quackery, if it were written on a scale that should -include the entire number of those frauds which may be generally -classed under the head of humbug, would be the history of the human -race in all ages and climes. Neither the benefactors nor the enemies -of mankind would escape mention; and a searching scrutiny would show -that dishonesty has played as important, though not as manifest, a -part in the operations of benevolence, as in the achievements of the -devil. But a more confined use of the word must satisfy us on the -present occasion. We are not about to enter on a philosophic inquiry -into the causes that contributed to the success of Mahomet and -Cromwell, but only to chronicle a few of the most humorous facts -connected with the predecessors of Dr. Townsend and Mr. Morrison. - -In the success that has in every century attended the rascally -enterprises of pretenders to the art of medicine, is found a touching -evidence of the sorrow, credulity, and ignorance of the generations -that have passed, or are passing, to the silent home where the pain -and joy, the simplicity and cunning, of this world are alike of -insignificance. The hope that to the last lurks in the breast of the -veriest wretch under heaven's canopy, whether his trials come from -broken health, or an empty pocket, or wronged affection, speaks aloud -in saddest tones, as one thinks of the multitudes who, worn with -bodily malady and spiritual dejection, ignorant of the source of their -sufferings, but thirsting for relief from them, have gone from -charlatan to charlatan, giving hoarded money in exchange for charms, -cramp-rings, warming-stones, elixirs, and trochees, warranted to cure -every ill that flesh is heir to. The scene, from another point of -view, is more droll, but scarcely less mournful. Look away for a few -seconds from the throng of miserable objects who press round the -empiric's stage; wipe out for a brief while the memory of their woes, -and regard the style and arts of the practitioner who, with a trunk -full of nostrums, bids disease to vanish, and death to retire from the -scenes of his triumph. There he stands--a lean, fantastic man, -voluble of tongue, empty-headed, full of loud words and menaces, -prating about kings and princes who have taken him by the hand and -kissed him in gratitude for his benefits showered upon them--dauntless, -greedy, and so steeped in falsehood that his crazy-tainted brain half -believes the lies that flow from his glib tongue. Are there no such -men amongst us now--not standing on carts at the street-corners, and -selling their wares to a dingy rabble, but having their seats of -exchange in honoured places, and vending their prescriptions to crowds -of wealthy clients? - -In the feudal ages medicine and quackery were the same, as far as any -principles of science are concerned. The only difference between the -physician and the charlatan was, that the former was a fool and the -latter a rogue. Men did not meddle much with the healing art. A few -clerks devoted themselves to it, and in the exercise of their -spiritual and medical functions discovered how to get two fleeces from -a sheep at one shearing; but the care of the sick was for the most -part left to the women, who then, as in every other period of the -world's history, prided themselves on their medical cunning, and, with -the exception of intrigue, preferred attending on the sick to any -other occupation. From the time of the Reformation, however, the -number of lady doctors rapidly diminished. The fair sex gradually -relinquished the ground they had so long occupied, to men, who, had -the monastic institutions continued to exist, would have assumed the -priestly garb and passed their days in sloth. Quackery was at length -fairly taken out of the hands of women and the shelter of domestic -life, and was practised, not for love, and in a superstitious belief -in its efficacy, but for money, and frequently with a perfect -knowledge of its worthlessness as a remedial system. - -As soon as the printing-press had become an institution of the -country, and there existed a considerable proportion of the community -capable of reading, the empirics seized hold of Caxton's invention, -and made it subservient to their honourable ends. The advertising -system was had recourse to in London, during the Stuart era, scarcely -less than it is now. Handbills were distributed in all directions by -half-starved wretches, whose withered forms and pallid cheeks were of -themselves a sufficient disproof of the assertions of their employers. - -The costume, language, style, and artifices of the pretenders to -physic in the seventeenth century were doubtless copied from models of -long standing, and differed little in essentials from those of their -predecessors. Professions retain their characteristics with singular -obstinacy. The doctor of Charles the Second's London transmitted all -his most salient features to the quack of the Regency. - -Cotgrave, in his "Treasury of "Wit and Language," published 1655, thus -paints the poor physician of his time:-- - - "My name is Pulsefeel, a poor Doctor of Physick, - That does wear three pile velvet in his hat, - Has paid a quarter's rent of his house before-hand, - And (simple as he stands here) was made doctor beyond sea. - I vow, as I am right worshipful, the taking - Of my degree cost me twelve French crowns, and - Thirty-five pounds of butter in Upper Germany. - I can make your beauty, and preserve it, - Rectifie your body and maintaine it, - Clarifie your blood, surfle your cheeks, perfume - Your skin, tinct your hair, enliven your eye, - Heighten your appetite; and as for Jellies, - Dentifrizes, Dyets, Minerals, Fricasses, - Pomatums, Fumes, Italia masks to sleep in, - Either to moisten or dry the superficies, Faugh! Galen - Was a goose, and Paracelsus a Patch, - To Doctor Pulsefeel." - -This picture would serve for the portrait of Dr. Pulsefeel in the -eighteenth and nineteenth, as well as the seventeenth century. How it -calls to mind the image of Oliver Goldsmith, when, with a smattering -of medical knowledge, a cane, and a dubious diploma, he tried to pick -out of the miseries and ignorance of his fellow-creatures the means of -keeping body and soul together! He too, poet and scholar though he -was, would have sold a pot of rouge to a faded beauty, or a bottle of -hair-dye, or a nostrum warranted to cure the bite of a mad dog. - -A more accurate picture, however, of the charlatan, is to be found in -"The Quack's Academy; or, The Dunce's Directory," published in 1678, -of which the following is a portion:-- - -"However, in the second place, to support this title, there are -several things very convenient: of which some are external -accoutrements, others internal qualifications. - -"Your outward requisites are a decent black suit, and (if your credit -will stretch so far in Long Lane) a plush jacket; not a pin the worse -though threadbare as a tailor's cloak--it shows the more reverend -antiquity. - -"Secondly, like Mercury, you must always carry a caduceus or conjuring -japan in your hand, capt with a civet-box; with which you must walk -with Spanish gravity, as in deep contemplation upon an arbitrament -between life and death. - -"Thirdly, a convenient lodging, not forgetting a hatch at the door; a -chamber hung with Dutch pictures, or looking-glasses, belittered with -empty bottles, gallipots, and vials filled with tapdroppings, or fair -water, coloured with saunders. Any sexton will furnish your window -with a skull, in hope of your custom; over which hang up the skeleton -of a monkey, to proclaim your skill in anatomy. - -"Fourthly, let your table be never without some old musty Greek or -Arabick author, and the 4th book of Cornelius Agrippa's 'Occult -Philosophy,' wide open to amuse spectators; with half-a-dozen of gilt -shillings, as so many guineas received that morning for fees. - -"Fifthly, fail not to oblige neighbouring ale-houses, to recommend you -to inquirers; and hold correspondence with all the nurses and midwives -near you, to applaud your skill at gossippings." - -The directions go on to advise loquacity and impudence, qualities -which quacks of all times and kinds have found most useful. But in -cases where the practitioner has an impediment in his speech, or -cannot by training render himself glib of utterance, he is advised to -persevere in a habit of mysterious silence, rendered impressive by -grave nods of the head. - -When Dr. Pulsefeel was tired of London, or felt a want of country air, -he concentrated his powers on the pleasant occupation of fleecing -rustic simplicity. For his journeys into the provinces he provided -himself with a stout and fast-trotting hack--stout, that it might bear -without fatigue weighty parcels of medicinal composition; and fleet of -foot, so that if an ungrateful rabble should commit the indecorum of -stoning their benefactor as an impostor (a mishap that would -occasionally occur), escape might be effected from the infatuated and -excited populace. In his circuit the doctor took in all the fairs, -markets, wakes, and public festivals; not, however, disdaining to stop -an entire week, or even month, at an assize town, where he found the -sick anxious to benefit by his wisdom. - -His plan of making acquaintance with a new place was to ride boldly -into the thickest crowd of a fair or market, with as much speed as he -could make without imperilling the lives of by-standers; and then, -when he had checked his steed, inform all who listened that he had -come straight from the Duke of Bohemia, or the most Serene Emperor of -Wallachia, out of a desire to do good to his fellow-creatures. He was -born in that very town,--yes, that very town in which he then was -speaking, and had left it when an orphan child of eight years of age, -to seek his fortune in the world. He had found his way to London, and -been crimped on board a vessel bound for Morocco, and so had been -carried off to foreign parts. His adventures had been wonderful. He -had visited the Sultan and the Great Mogul. There was not a part of -the Indies with which he was not familiar. If any one doubted him, let -his face be regarded, and his bronze complexion bear witness of the -scorching suns he had endured. He had cured hundreds--ay, -thousands--of emperors, kings, queens, princes, margravines, grand -duchesses, and generalissimos, of their diseases. He had a powder -which would stay the palsy, jaundice, hot fever, and cramps. It was -expensive; but that he couldn't help, for it was made of pearls, and -the dried leaves of violets brought from the very middle of Tartary; -still he could sell a packet of the medicine for a crown--a sum which -would just pay him back his outlaid money, and leave him no profit. -But he didn't want to make money of them. He was their fellow-townsman; -and in order to find them out and cure them he had refused offers of -wealth from the king of Mesopotamia, who wanted him to accept a -fortune of a thousand gold pieces a month, tarry with the -Mesopotamians, and keep them out of Death's clutches. Sometimes this -harangue was made from the back of a horse; sometimes from a rude -hustings, from which he was called _mountebank_. He sold all kinds of -medicaments: dyes for the hair, washes for the complexion, lotions to -keep young men youthful; rings which, when worn on the fore-finger of -the right hand, should make a chosen favourite desperately in love -with the wearer, and when worn on the same finger of the left hand, -should drive the said favourite to commit suicide. Nothing could -surpass the impudence of the fellow's lies, save the admiration with -which his credulous auditors swallowed his assertions. There they -stood,--stout yeomen, drunken squires, merry peasant girls, gawky -hinds, gabbling dames, deeming themselves in luck's way to have lived -to see such a miracle of learning. Possibly a young student home from -Oxford, with the rashness of inexperience, would smile scornfully, and -in a loud voice designate the pretender a quack--a quacksalvar -(kwabzalver), from the liniment he vended for the cure of wens. But -such an interruption, in ninety and nine cases out of every hundred, -was condemned by the orthodox friends of the young student, and he -was warned that he would come to no good if he went on as he had -begun--a contemptuous unbeliever, and a mocker of wise men. - -The author of the "Discourse de l'Origine des Moeurs, Fraudes, et -Impostures des Ciarlatans, avec leur Decouverte, Paris, 1662," says, -"Premierement, par ce mot de Ciarlatans, j'entens ceux que les -Italiens appellent Saltambaci, basteleurs, bouffons, vendeurs de -bagatelles, et generalement toute autre personne, laquelle en place -publique montee en banc, a terre, ou a cheval, vend medecines, baumes, -huilles ou poudres, composees pour guerir quelque infirmite, louant et -exaltant sa drogue, avec artifice, et mille faux sermens, en racontant -mille et mille merveilles. - - * * * * * - -"Mais c'est chose plaisante de voir l'artifice dont se servent ces -medecins de banc pour vendre leur drogue, quand avec mille faux -sermens ils affirment d'avoir appris leur secret du roi de Dannemarc, -au d'un prince de Transilvanie." - -The great quack of Charles the Second's London was Dr. Thomas Saffold. -This man (who was originally a weaver) professed to cure every disease -of the human body, and also to foretell the destinies of his patients. -Along Cheapside, Fleet-street, and the Strand, even down to the sacred -precincts of Whitehall and St. James's, he stationed bill-distributors, -who showered prose and poetry on the passers-by--just as the agents -(possibly the poets) of the Messrs. Moses cast their literature on the -town of Queen Victoria. When this great benefactor of his species -departed this life, on May the 12th, 1691, a satirical broadsheet -called on the world to mourn for the loss of one-- - - "So skilled in drugs and verse, 'twas hard to show it, - Whether was best, the doctor or the poet." - -The ode continues:-- - - "Lament, ye damsels of our London city, - (Poor unprovided girls) tho' fair and witty, - Who, maskt, would to his house in couples come, - To understand your matrimonial doom; - To know what kind of men you were to marry, - And how long time, poor things, you were to tarry; - Your oracle is silent, none can tell - On whom his astrologick mantle fell: - For he when sick refused all doctors' aid, - And only to his pills devotion paid! - Yet it was surely a most sad disaster, - The saucy pills at last should kill their master." - - EPITAPH. - - "Here lies the corpse of Thomas Saffold, - By death, in spite of physick, baffled; - Who, leaving off his working loom, - Did learned doctor soon become. - To poetry he made pretence, - Too plain to any man's own sense; - But he when living thought it sin - To hide his talent in napkin; - Now death does doctor (poet) crowd - Within the limits of a shroud." - -The vocation of fortune-teller was exercised not only by the quacks, -but also by the apothecaries, of that period. Garth had ample -foundation, in fact, for his satirical sketch of Horoscope's shop in -the second canto of "The Dispensary." - - "Long has he been of that amphibious fry, - Bold to prescribe and busie to apply; - His shop the gazing vulgars' eyes employs, - With foreign trinkets and domestick toys. - Here mummies lay most reverendly stale, - And there the tortoise hung her coat of mail. - Not far from some huge shark's devouring head - The flying fish their finny pinions spread; - Aloft in rows large poppy-heads were strung, - And near a scaly alligator hung; - In this place, drugs in musty heaps decay'd, - In that, dry'd bladders and drawn teeth were laid. - - "An inner room receives the num'rous shoals - Of such as pay to be reputed fools; - Globes stand by globes, volumes by volumes lye, - And planetary schemes amuse the eye. - The sage, in velvet chair, here lolls at ease, - To promise future health for present fees. - Then, as from Tripod, solemn shams reveals, - And what the stars know nothing of reveals. - - "One asks how soon Panthea may be won, - And longs to feel the marriage fetters on; - Others, convinced by melancholy proof, - Enquire when courteous fates will strike them off; - Some by what means they may redress the wrong, - When fathers the possession keep too long; - And some would know the issue of their cause, - And whether gold can solder up its flaws. - . . . . . - "Whilst Iris his cosmetick wash would try, - To make her bloom revive, and lovers die; - Some ask for charms, and others philters choose, - To gain Corinna, and their quartans lose." - -Queen Anne's weak eyes caused her to pass from one empiric to another, -for the relief they all promised to give, and in some cases even -persuaded that they gave her. She had a passion for quack oculists; -and happy was the advertising scoundrel who gained her Majesty's -favour with a new collyrium. For, of course, if the greatest personage -in the land said that Professor Bungalo was a wonderful man, a master -of his art, and inspired by God to heal the sick, there was no appeal -from so eminent an authority. How should an elderly lady with a crown -on her head be mistaken? Do we not hear the same arguments every day -in our own enlightened generation, when the new Chiropodist, or -Rubber, or inventor of a specific for consumption, points to the -social distinctions of his dupes as conclusive evidence that he is -neither supported by vulgar ignorance, nor afraid to meet the most -searching scrutiny of the educated? Good Queen Anne was so charmed -with two of the many knaves who by turns enjoyed her countenance, that -she had them sworn in as her own oculists in ordinary; and one of them -she was even so silly as to knight. This lucky gentleman was William -Reade, originally a botching tailor, and to the last a very ignorant -man, as his "Short and Exact Account of all Diseases Incident to the -Eyes" attests; yet he rose to the honour of knighthood, and the most -lucrative and fashionable physician's practice of his period. Surely -every dog has his day. Lazarus never should despair; a turn of fortune -may one fine day pick him from the rags which cover his nakedness in -the kennel, and put him to feast amongst princes, arrayed in purple -and fine linen, and regarded as an oracle of wisdom. It was true that -Sir William Reade was unable to read the book which he had written (by -the hand of an amanuensis), but I have no doubt that many worthy -people who listened to his sonorous voice, beheld his lace ruffles and -gold-headed cane, and saw his coach drawn along to St. James's by -superb horses, thought him in every respect equal, or even superior, -to Pope and Swift. - -When Sir William was knighted he hired a poet, who lived in Grub -Street, to announce the fact to posterity and "the town," in -decasyllabic verse. The production of this bard, "The Oculist, a -Poem," was published in the year 1705, and has already (thanks to the -British Museum, which like the nets of fishermen receiveth of "all -sorts") endowed with a century and a half of posthumous renown; and -no one can deny that so much fame is due, both to the man who bought, -and the scribbler who sold the following strain:-- - - "Whilst Britain's Sovereign scales such worth has weighed, - And Anne herself her smiling favours paid, - That sacred hand does your fair chaplet twist, - Great Reade her own entitled Oculist, - With this fair mark of honour, sir, assume - No common trophies from this shining plume; - Her favours by desert are only shared-- - Her smiles are not her gift, but her reward. - Thus in your new fair plumes of Honour drest, - To hail the Royal Foundress of the feast; - When the great Anne's warm smiles this favourite raise, - 'Tis not a royal grace she gives, but pays." - -Queen Anne's other "sworn oculist," as he and Reade termed themselves, -was Roger Grant, a cobbler and Anabaptist preacher. He was a -prodigiously vain man, even for a quack, and had his likeness engraved -in copper. Impressions of the plate were distributed amongst his -friends, but were not in all cases treated with much respect; for one -of those who had been complimented with a present of the eminent -oculist's portrait, fixed it on a wall of his house, having first -adorned it with the following lines:-- - - "See here a picture of a brazen face, - The fittest lumber of this wretched place. - A tinker first his scene of life began; - That failing, he set up for cunning man; - But wanting luck, puts on a new disguise, - And now pretends that he can mend your eyes; - But this expect, that, like a tinker true, - Where he repairs one eye he puts out two." - -The charge of his being a tinker was preferred against him also by -another lampoon writer. "In his stead up popped Roger Grant, the -tinker, of whom a friend of mine once sung.-- - - "'Her Majesty sure was in a surprise, - Or else was very short-sighted; - When a tinker was sworn to look after her eyes, - And the mountebank Reade was knighted.'" - -This man, according to the custom of his class, was in the habit of -publishing circumstantial and minute accounts of his cures. Of course -his statements were a tissue of untruths, with just the faintest -possible admixture of what was not altogether false. His plan was to -get hold of some poor person of imperfect vision, and, after treating -him with medicines and half-crowns for six weeks, induce him to sign a -testimonial to the effect that he had been born stone-blind, and had -never enjoyed any visual power whatever, till Providence led him to -good Dr. Grant, who had cured him in little more than a month. This -certificate the clergyman and churchwardens of the parish, in which -the patient had been known to wander about the streets in mendicancy, -were asked to attest; and if they proved impregnable to the cunning -representations of the importunate suitors, and declined to give the -evidence of their handwriting, either on the ground that they had -reason to question the fact of the original blindness, or because they -were not thoroughly acquainted with the particulars of the case, Dr. -Grant did not scruple to sign their names himself, or by the hands of -his agents. The _modus operandi_ with which he carried out these -frauds may be learned by the curious in a pamphlet, published in the -year 1709, and entitled "A Full and True Account of a Miraculous Cure -of a Young Man in Newington that was Born Blind." - -But the last century was rife with medical quacks. The Rev. John -Hancocke, D.D., Rector of St. Margaret's, Lothbury, London, -Prebendary of Canterbury, and chaplain to the Duke of Bedford, -preached up the water-cure, which Pliny the naturalist described as -being in his day the fashionable remedy in Rome. He published a work -in 1723 that immediately became popular, called "Febrifugum Magnum; -or, Common Water the best Cure for Fevers, and probably for the -Plague." - -The good man deemed himself a genius of the highest order, because he -had discovered that a draught of cold water, under certain -circumstances, is a powerful diaphoretic. His pharmacopeia, however, -contained another remedy--namely, stewed prunes, which the Doctor -regarded as a specific in obstinate cases of blood-spitting. Then -there was Ward, with his famous pill, whose praises that learned man, -Lord Chief Baron Reynolds, sounded in every direction. There was also -a tar-water mania, which mastered the clear intellect of Henry -Fielding, and had as its principal advocate the supreme intellect of -the age, Bishop Berkeley. In volume eighteen of the _Gentleman's -Magazine_ is a list of the quack-doctors then practising; and the -number of those named in it is almost as numerous as the nostrums, -which mount up to 202. These accommodating fellows were ready to -fleece every rank of society. The fashionable impostor sold his -specific sometimes at the rate of 2_s._ 6_d._ a pill, while the -humbler knave vended his boluses at 6_d._ a box. To account for -society tolerating, and yet more, warmly encouraging such a state of -things, we must remember the force of the example set by eminent -physicians in vending medicines the composition of which they kept -secret. Sir Hans Sloane sold an eye-salve; and Dr. Mead had a -favourite nostrum--a powder for the bite of a mad dog. - -The close of the seventeenth century was not in respect of its quacks -behind the few preceding generations. In 1789 Mr. and Mrs. -Loutherbourg became notorious for curing people without medicine. God, -they proclaimed, had endowed them with a miraculous power of healing -the impoverished sick, by looking upon them and touching them. Of -course every one who presumed to doubt the statement was regarded as -calling in question the miracles of holy writ, and was exclaimed -against as an infidel. The doctor's house was besieged with enormous -crowds. The good man and his lady refused to take any fee whatever, -and issued gratuitous tickets amongst the mob, which would admit the -bearers into the Loutherbourgian presence. Strange to say, however, -these tickets found their way into the hands of venal people, who sold -them to others in the crowd (who were tired of waiting) for sums -varying from two to five guineas each; and ere long it was discovered -that these barterers of the healing power were accomplices in the pay -of the poor man's friend. A certain Miss Mary Pratt, in all -probability a puppet acting in obedience to Loutherbourg's -instructions, wrote an account of the cures performed by the physician -and his wife. In a dedicatory letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury, -Miss Pratt says:--"I therefore presume when these testimonies are -searched into (which will corroborate with mine) your Lordship will -compose a form of prayer, to be used in all churches and chapels, that -nothing may impede or prevent this inestimable gift from having its -free course; and publick thanks may be offered up in all churches and -chapels, for such an astonishing proof of God's love to this favoured -land." The publication frankly states that "Mr. De Loutherbourg, who -lives on Hammersmith Green, has received a most glorious power from -the Lord Jehovah--viz. the gift of healing all manner of diseases -incident to the human body, such as blindness, deafness, lameness, -cancers, loss of speech, palsies." But the statements of "cases" are -yet more droll. The reader will enjoy the perusal of a few of them. - -"_Case of Thomas Robinson._--Thomas Robinson was sent home to his -parents at the sign of the Ram, a public-house in Cow Cross, so ill -with what is called the king's evil, that they applied for leave to -bring him into St Bartholomew's Hospital." (Of course he was -discharged as "incurable," and was eventually restored to health by -Mr. Loutherbourg.) "But how," continues Miss Pratt, "shall my pen -paint ingratitude? The mother had procured a ticket for him from the -Finsbury Dispensary, and with a shameful reluctance denied having seen -Mr De Loutherbourg, waited on the kind gentleman belonging to the -dispensary, and, _amazing_! thanked them for relief which they had no -hand in; for she told me and fifty more, she took the drugs and -medicines and threw them away, reserving the phials, &c. Such an -imposition on the public ought to be detected, as she deprived other -poor people of those medicines which might have been useful; not only -so--robbed the Lord of Life of the glory due to him only, by returning -thanks at the dispensary for a cure which they had never performed. -The lad is now under Mr De Loutherbourg's care, who administered to -him before me yesterday in the public healing-room, amongst a large -concourse of people, amongst whom was some of the first families in -the kingdom." - -"_Case.--Mary Ann Hughes._--Her father is chairman to her Grace the -Duchess of Rutland, who lives at No. 37, in Ogle Street. She had a -most violent fever, _fell into her knee_, went to Middlesex Hospital, -where they made every experiment in order to cure her--but in vain; -she came home worse than she went in, her leg contracted and useless. -In this deplorable state she waited on Mrs De Loutherbourg, who, with -infinite condescension, saw her, administered to her, and the second -time of waiting on Mrs De Loutherbourg she was perfectly cured." - -"_Case.--Mrs Hook._--Mrs Hook, Stableyard, St James's, has two -daughters born deaf and dumb. She waited on the lady above-mentioned, -_who looked on them with an eye of benignity, and healed them_. (I -heard them both speak.)" - -Mary Pratt, after enumerating several cases like the foregoing, -concludes thus: - -"Let me repeat, with horror and detestation, the wickedness of those -who have procured tickets of admission, and sold them for five and two -guineas apiece!--whereas this gift was chiefly intended for the poor. -Therefore Mr De Loutherbourg has retired from the practice into the -country (for the present), having suffered all the indignities and -contumely that man could suffer, joined to ungrateful behaviour, and -tumultuous proceedings. I have heard people curse him and threaten his -life, instead of returning him thanks; and it is my humble wish that -prayers may be put up in all churches for his great gifts to -multiply." - - "FINIS. - -"Report says three thousand persons have waited for tickets at a -time." - -Forming a portion of this interesting work by Miss Pratt is a -description of a case which throws the Loutherbourgian miracles into -the shade, and is apparently cited only for the insight it affords -into the state of public feeling in Queen Anne's time, as contrasted -with the sceptical enlightenment of George III.'s reign:-- - -"I hope the public will allow me to adduce a case which history will -evince the truth of. A girl, whose father and mother were French -refugees, had her hip dislocated from her birth. She was apprentice to -a milliner, and obliged to go out about the mistress's business; the -boys used to insult her for her lameness continually, as she limped -very much.... Providence directed her to read one of the miracles -performed by our blessed Saviour concerning the withered arm. The girl -exclaimed, 'Oh, madam, was Jesus here on earth he would cure me.' Her -mistress answered, 'If you have faith, his power is the same now.' She -immediately cried, 'I have faith!' and the bone flew into its place -with a report like the noise of a pistol. The girl's joy was ecstatic. -She jumped about the room in raptures. The servant was called, sent -for her parents, and the minister under whom she sat. They spent the -night praising God. Hundreds came to see her, amongst whom was the -Bishop of London, by the command of her Majesty Queen Anne (for in -those days people were astonished at this great miracle.)" - -Dr. Loutherbourg was not the first quack to fleece the good people of -Hammersmith. In the 572nd paper of the _Spectator_, dated July 26, -1714, there is a good story of a consummate artist, who surrounded -himself with an enormous crowd, and assured them that Hammersmith was -the place of his nativity; and that, out of strong natural affection -for his birth-place, he was willing to give each of its inhabitants a -present of five shillings. After this exordium, the benevolent fellow -produced from his cases an immense number of packets of a powder -warranted to cure everything and kill nothing. The price of each -packet was properly five shillings and sixpence; but out of love for -the people of Hammersmith the good doctor offered to let any of his -audience buy them at the rate of sixpence apiece. The multitude -availed themselves of this proposition to such an extent that it is to -be feared the friend of Hammersmith's humanity suffered greatly from -his liberality. - -Steele has transmitted to us some capital anecdotes of the empirics of -his day. One doctor of Sir Richard's acquaintance resided in Moore -Alley, near Wapping, and proclaimed his ability to cure cataracts, -_because he had lost an eye in the emperor's service_. To his patients -he was in the habit of displaying, as a conclusive proof of his -surgical prowess, a muster-roll showing that either he, or a man of -his name, had been in one of his imperial Majesty's regiments. At the -sight of this document of course mistrust fled. Another man professed -to treat ruptured children, because his father and grandfather were -born bursten. But more humorous even than either of these gentlemen -was another friend of Sir Richard's, who announced to the public that -"from eight to twelve and from two till six, he attended for the good -of the public to bleed for threepence." - -The fortunes which pretenders to the healing art have amassed would -justify a belief that empiricism, under favourable circumstances, is -the best trade to be found in the entire list of industrial -occupations. Quacks have in all ages found staunch supporters amongst -the powerful and affluent. Dr. Myersbach, whom Lettsom endeavoured to -drive back into obscurity, continued, long after the publication of -the "Observations," to make a large income out of the credulity of the -fashionable classes of English society. Without learning of any kind, -this man raised himself to opulence. His degree was bought at Erfurth -for a few shillings, just before that university raised the prices of -its academical distinctions, in consequence of the pleasant raillery -of a young Englishman, who paid the fees for a Doctor's diploma, and -had it duly recorded in the Collegiate archives as having been -presented to Anglicus Ponto; Ponto being no other than his mastiff -dog. With such a degree Myersbach set up for a philosopher. Patients -crowded to his consulting-room, and those who were unable to come sent -their servants with descriptions of their cases. But his success was -less than that of the inventor of Ailhaud's powders, which ran their -devastating course through every country in Europe, sending to the -silence of the grave almost as many thousands as were destroyed in all -Napoleon's campaigns. Tissot, in his "Avis au Peuple," published in -1803, attacked Ailhaud with characteristic vehemence, and put an end -to his destructive power; but ere this took place the charlatan had -mounted on his slaughtered myriads to the possession of three -baronies, and was figuring in European courts as the Baron de -Castelet. - -The tricks which these practitioners have had recourse to for the -attainment of their ends are various. Dr. Katterfelto, who rose into -eminence upon the evil wind that brought the influenza to England in -the year 1782, always travelled about the country in a large caravan, -containing a number of black cats. This gentleman's triumphant -campaign was brought to a disastrous termination by the mayor of -Shrewsbury, who gave him a taste of the sharp discipline provided at -that time by the law for rogues and vagabonds.--"The Wise Man of -Liverpool," whose destiny it was to gull the canny inhabitants of the -North of England, used to traverse the country in a chariot drawn by -six horses, attended by a perfect army of outriders in brilliant -liveries, and affecting all the pomp of a prince of the royal blood. - -The quacks who merit severe punishment the least of all their order -are those who, while they profess to exercise a powerful influence -over the bodies of their patients, leave nature to pursue her -operations pretty much in her own way. Of this comparatively harmless -class was Atwell, the parson of St. Tue, who, according to the account -given of him by Fuller, in his English Worthies, "although he now and -then used blood-letting, mostly for all diseases prescribed milk, and -often milk and apples, which (although contrary to the judgments of -the best-esteemed practitioners) either by virtue of the medicine, or -fortune of the physician, or fancy of the patient, recovered many out -of desperate extremities." Atwell won his reputation by acting on the -same principle that has brought a certain degree of popularity to the -homoeopathists--that, namely, of letting things run their own -course. The higher order of empirics have always availed themselves of -the wonderful faculty possessed by nature of taking good care of -herself. Simple people who enlarge on the series of miraculous cures -performed by their pet charlatan, and find in them proofs of his -honesty and professional worth, do not reflect that in ninety-and-nine -cases out of every hundred where a sick person is restored to health, -the result is achieved by nature rather than art, and would have been -arrived at as speedily without as with medicine. Again, the fame of an -ordinary medical practitioner is never backed up by simple and -compound addition. His cures and half cures are never summed up to -magnificent total by his employers, and then flaunted about on a -bright banner before the eyes of the electors. 'Tis a mere matter of -course that _he_ (although he _is_ quite wrong, and knows not half as -much about his art as any great lady who has tested the efficacy of -the new system on her sick poodle) should cure people. 'Tis only the -cause of globules which is to be supported by documentary evidence, -containing the case of every young lady who has lost a severe headache -under the benign influence of an infinitesimal dose of flour and -water. - -Dumoulin, the physician, observed at his death that "he left behind -him two great physicians, Regimen and River Water." A due appreciation -of the truth embodied in this remark, coupled with that masterly -assurance, without which the human family is not to be fleeced, -enabled the French quack, Villars, to do good to others and to himself -at the same time. This man, in 1723, confided to his friends that his -uncle, who had recently been killed by an accident at the advanced age -of one hundred years, had bequeathed to him the recipe for a nostrum -which would prolong the life of any one who used it to a hundred and -fifty, provided only that the rules of sobriety were never -transgressed. Whenever a funeral passed him in the street he said -aloud, "Ah! if that unfortunate creature had taken my nostrum, he -might be carrying that coffin, instead of being carried in it." This -nostrum was composed of nitre and Seine water, and was sold at the -ridiculously cheap rate of five francs a bottle. Those who bought it -were directed to drink it at certain stated periods, and also to lead -regular lives, to eat moderately, drink temperately, take plenty of -bodily exercise, go to and rise from bed early, and to avoid mental -anxiety. In an enormous majority of cases the patient was either cured -or benefitted. Some possibly died, who, by the ministrations of -science, might have been preserved from the grave. But in these cases, -and doubtless they were few, the blunder was set down to Nature, who, -somewhat unjustly, was never credited with any of the recoveries. The -world was charitable, and the doctor could say-- - - "The grave my faults does hide, - The world my cures does see; - What youth and time provide, - Are oft ascribed to me." - -Anyhow Villars succeeded, and won the approbation not only of his -dupes, but of those also who were sagacious enough to see the nature -of his trick. The Abbe Pons declared him to be the superior of the -marshal of the same name. "The latter," said he, "kills men--the -former prolongs their existence." At length Villars' secret leaked -out; and his patients, unwise in coming to him, unwisely deserted him. -His occupation was gone. - -The displeasure of Villars' dupes, on the discovery of the benevolent -hoax played upon them, reminds us of a good story. Some years since, -at a fashionable watering-place, on the south-east coast of England, -resided a young surgeon--handsome, well-bred, and of most pleasant -address. He was fast rising into public favour and a good practice, -when an eccentric and wealthy maiden lady, far advanced in years, sent -for him. The summons of course was promptly obeyed, and the young -practitioner was soon listening to a most terrible story of suffering. -The afflicted lady, according to her own account, had a year before, -during the performance of her toilet, accidentally taken into her -throat one of the bristles of her tooth-brush. This bristle had stuck -in the top of the gullet, and set up an irritation which, she was -convinced, was killing her. She had been from one surgeon of eminence -to another, and everywhere in London and in the country the Faculty -had assured her that she was only the victim of a nervous -delusion--that her throat was in a perfectly healthy condition--that -the disturbance existed only in her own imagination. "And so they go -on, the stupid, obstinate, perverse, unfeeling creatures," concluded -the poor lady, "saying there is nothing the matter with me, while I -am--dying--dying--dying!" "Allow me, my dear lady," said the adroit -surgeon in reply, "to inspect for myself--carefully--the state of -your throat." The inspection was made gravely, and at much length. "My -dear Miss ----," resumed the surgeon, when he had concluded his -examination, "you are quite right, and Sir Benjamin Brodie and Sir -James Clark are wrong. I can see the head of the bristle low down, -almost out of sight; and if you'll let me run home for my instruments, -I'll forthwith extract it for you." The adroit man retired, and in a -few minutes re-entered the room, armed with a very delicate pair of -forceps, into the teeth of which he had inserted a bristle taken from -an ordinary tooth-brush. The rest can be imagined. The lady threw back -her head; the forceps were introduced into her mouth; a prick--a -scream! and 'twas all over; and the surgeon, with a smiling face, was -holding up to the light, and inspecting with lively curiosity, the -extracted bristle. The patient was in raptures at a result that proved -that she was right, and Sir Benjamin Brodie wrong. She immediately -recovered her health and spirits, and went about everywhere sounding -the praises of "her saviour," as she persisted in calling the -dexterous operator. So enthusiastic was her gratitude, she offered him -her hand in marriage and her noble fortune. The fact that the young -surgeon was already married was an insuperable obstacle to this -arrangement. But other proofs of gratitude the lady lavishly showered -on him. She compelled him to accept a carriage and horses, a service -of plate, and a new house. Unfortunately the lucky fellow could not -keep his own counsel. Like foolish Samson with Delilah, he imparted -the secret of his cunning to the wife of his bosom; she confided it to -Louise Clarissa, her especial friend, who had been her bridesmaid; -Louise Clarissa told it under vows of inviolable secrecy to six other -particular friends; and the six other particular friends--base and -unworthy girls!--told it to all the world. Ere long the story came -round to the lady herself. Then what a storm arose! She was in a -transport of fury! It was of no avail for the surgeon to remind her -that he had unquestionably raised her from a pitiable condition to -health and happiness. That mattered not. He had tricked, fooled, -bamboozled her! She would not forgive him, she would pursue him with -undying vengeance, she would ruin him! The writer of these pages is -happy to know that the surgeon here spoken of, whose prosperous career -has been adorned by much genuine benevolence, though unforgiven, was -not ruined. - -The ignorant are remarkable alike for suspicion and credulity; and the -quack makes them his prey by lulling to sleep the former quality, and -artfully arousing and playing upon the latter. Whatever the field of -quackery may be, the dupe must ever be the same. Some years since a -canny drover, from the north of the Tweed, gained a high reputation -throughout the Eastern Counties for selling at high prices the beasts -intrusted to him as a salesman. At Norwich and Earl Soham, at Bury and -Ipswich, the story was the same--Peter M'Dougal invariably got more -per head for "a lot" than even his warmest admirers had calculated he -would obtain. He managed his business so well, that his brethren, -unable to compete with him, came to a conclusion not altogether -supported by the facts of the case, but flattering to their own -self-love. Clearly Peter could only surpass them by such a long -distance, through the agency of some charm or witch's secret. They -hinted as much; and Peter wisely accepted the suggestion, with a -half-assenting nod of cunning, and encouraged his mates to believe in -it. A year or so passed on, and it was generally allowed that Peter -M'Dougal was in league on honourable terms with the unseen world. To -contend with him was useless. The only line open to his would-be -imitators was to buy from him participations in his mysterious powers. -"Peter," at length said a simple southern, at the close of Halesworth -cattle-fair, acting as spokesman for himself and four other -conspirators, "lets us into yer secret, man. Yer ha' made here twelve -pun a yead by a lot that aren't woth sex. How ded yer doo it? We are -all owld friens. Lets us goo to 'Th' Alter'd Case,' an I an my mets -ull stan yar supper an a dead drunk o' whiskey or rom poonch, so be -yar jine hans to giv us the wink." Peter's eyes twinkled. He liked a -good supper and plenty of hot grog at a friend's expense. Indeed, of -such fare, like Sheridan with wine, he was ready to take any given -quantity. The bargain was made, and an immediate adjournment effected -to the public-house rejoicing in the title of "The Case is Altered." -The supper was of hot steak-pudding, made savoury with pepper and -onions. Peter M'Dougal ate plentifully and deliberately. Slowly also -he drank two stiff tumblers of whiskey punch, smoking his pipe -meanwhile without uttering a word. The second tumbler was followed by -a third, and as he sipped the latter half of it, his entertainers -closed round him, and intimated that their part of the contract being -accomplished, he, as a man of honour, ought to fulfill his. Peter was -a man of few words, and without any unnecessary prelude or comment, he -stated in one laconic speech the secret of his professional success. -Laying down his pipe by his empty glass, and emitting from his gray -eyes a light of strange humour, he said drily, "Ye'd knoo hoo it was I -cam to mak sae guid a sale o' my beasties? Weel, I ken it was joost -this--_I fund a fule!_" - -The drover who rises to be a capitalist, and the lawyer who mounts to -the woolsack, ascend by the same process. They know how to find out -fools, and how to turn their discoveries to advantage. - -It is told of a Barbadoes physician and slaveholder, that having been -robbed to a serious extent in his sugar-works, he discovered the thief -by the following ingenious artifice. Having called his slaves -together, he addressed them thus:--"My friends, the great serpent -appeared to me during the night, and told me that the person who stole -my money should, at this instant--_this very instant_--have a parrot's -feather at the point of his nose." On this announcement, the dishonest -thief, anxious to find out if his guilt had declared itself, put his -finger to his nose. "Man," cried the master instantly, "'tis thou who -hast robbed me. The great serpent has just told me so." - -Clearly this piece of quackery succeeded, because the quack had "fund -a fule." - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -JOHN RADCLIFFE. - - -Radcliffe, the Jacobite partisan, the physician without learning, and -the luxurious _bon-vivant_, who grudged the odd sixpences of his -tavern scores, was born at Wakefield in Yorkshire, in the year 1650. -His extraction was humble, his father being only a well-to-do yeoman. -In after life, when he lived on intimate terms with the leading -nobility of the country, he put in a claim for aristocratic descent; -and the Earl of Derwentwater recognized him as a kinsman deriving his -blood from the Radcliffes of Dilston, in the county of Northumberland, -the chiefs of which honourable family had been knights, barons, and -earls, from the time of Henry IV. It may be remembered that a similar -countenance was given to Burke's patrician pretensions, which have -been related by more than one biographer, with much humorous pomp. In -Radcliffe's case the Heralds interfered with the Earl's decision; for -after the physician's decease they admonished the University of Oxford -not to erect any escutcheon over or upon his monument. But though -Radcliffe was a plebeian, he contrived, by his shrewd humour, -arrogant simplicity, and immeasurable insolence, to hold both Whigs -and Tories in his grasp. The two factions of the aristocracy bowed -before him--the Tories from affection to a zealous adherent of regal -absolutism; and the Whigs, from a superstitious belief in his remedial -skill, and a fear that in their hours of need he would leave them to -the advances of Death. - -At the age of fifteen he became a member of the University College, -Oxford; and having kept his terms there, he took his B. A. degree in -1669, and was made senior-scholar of the college. But no fellowship -falling vacant there, he accepted one on the foundation of Lincoln -College. His M. B. degree he took in 1675, and forthwith obtained -considerable practice in Oxford. Owing to a misunderstanding with Dr. -Marshall, the rector of Lincoln College, Radcliffe relinquished a -fellowship, which he could no longer hold, without taking orders, in -1677. He did not take his M. D. degree till 1682, two years after -which time he went up to London, and took a house in Bow Street, next -that in which Sir Godfrey Kneller long resided; and with a facility -which can hardly be credited in these days, when success is achieved -only by slow advances, he stept forthwith into a magnificent income. - -The days of mealy-mouthed suavity had not yet come to the Faculty. -Instead of standing by each other with lip-service, as they now do in -spite of all their jealousies, physicians and surgeons vented their -mutual enmities in frank, honest abuse. Radcliffe's tongue was well -suited for this part of his business; and if that unruly member -created for him enemies, it could also contend with a legion of -adversaries at the same time. Foulks and Adams, then the first -apothecaries in Oxford, tried to discredit the young doctor, but were -ere long compelled to sue for a cessation of hostilities. Luff, who -afterwards became Professor of Physic in the University, declared that -all "Radcliffe's cures were performed only by guesswork"; and Gibbons, -with a sneer, said, "that it was a pity that his friends had not made -a scholar of the young man." In return Radcliffe always persisted in -speaking of his opponent as _Nurse_ Gibbons--because of his slops and -diet drinks, whereas he (Radcliffe the innovator) preached up the good -effects of fresh air, a liberal table, and cordials. This was the Dr. -Gibbons around whom the apothecaries rallied, to defend their -interests in the great Dispensarian contest, and whom Garth in his -poem ridicules, under the name of "Mirmillo," for entertaining -drug-venders:-- - - "Not far from that frequented theatre, - Where wandering punks each night at five repair, - Where purple emperors in buskins tread, - And rule imaginary worlds for bread; - Where Bentley, by old writers, wealthy grew, - And Briscoe lately was undone by new; - There triumphs a physician of renown, - To none, but such as rust in health, unknown. - . . . . . - The trading tribe oft thither throng to dine, - And want of elbow-room supply in wine." - -Gibbons was not the only dangerous antagonist that Radcliffe did -battle with in London. Dr. Whistler, Sir Edmund King, Sir Edward -Hannes, and Sir Richard Blackmore were all strong enough to hurt him -and rouse his jealousy. Hannes, also an Oxford man, was to the last a -dangerous and hated rival. He opened his campaign in London with a -carriage and four horses. The equipage was so costly and imposing that -it attracted the general attention of the town. "By Jove! Radcliffe," -said a kind friend, "Hannes's horses are the finest I have ever seen." -"Umph!" growled Radcliffe savagely, "then he'll be able to sell them -for all the more." - -To make his name known Hannes used to send his liveried footmen -running about the streets with directions to put their heads into -every coach they met and inquire, with accents of alarm, if Dr. Hannes -was in it. Acting on these orders, one of his fellows, after looking -into every carriage between Whitehall and the Royal Exchange, without -finding his employer, ran up Exchange Alley into Garraway's -Coffee-house, which was one of the great places of meeting for the -members of the medical profession. (Apothecaries used regularly to -come and consult the physicians, while the latter were over their -wine, paying only half fees for the advice so given, without the -patients being personally examined. Batson's coffee-house in Corn-hill -was another favourite spot for these Galenic re-unions, Sir William -Blizard being amongst the last of the medical authorities who -frequented that hostelry for the purpose of receiving apothecaries.) -"Gentlemen, can your honours tell me if Dr. Hannes is here?" asked the -man, running into the very centre of the exchange of medicine-men. -"Who wants Dr. Hannes, fellow?" demanded Radcliffe, who happened to be -present. "Lord A---- and Lord B----, your honour!" answered the man. -"No, no, friend," responded the doctor slowly, and with pleasant -irony, "you are mistaken. Those lords don't want your master--'tis he -who wants them." - -But Hannes made friends and a fine income, to the deep chagrin of his -contemptuous opponent. An incessant feud existed between the two men. -The virulence of their mutual animosity may be estimated by the -following story. When the poor little Duke of Gloucester was taken -ill, Sir Edward Hannes and Blackmore (famous as Sir Richard Blackmore, -the poet) were called in to attend him. On the case taking a fatal -turn, Radcliffe was sent for; and after roundly charging the two -doctors with the grossest mismanagement of a simple attack of rash, -went on, "It would have been happy for this nation had you, sir, been -bred up a basket-maker--and you, sir, had remained a country -schoolmaster, rather than have ventured out of your reach, in the -practice of an art which you are an utter stranger to, and for your -blunders in which you ought to be whipped with one of your own rods." -The reader will not see the force of this delicate speech if he is not -aware that Hannes was generally believed to be the son of a -basket-maker, and Sir Richard Blackmore had, in the period of his -early poverty, like Johnson and Oliver Goldsmith, been a teacher of -boys. Whenever the "Amenities of the Faculty" come to be published, -this consultation, on the last illness of Jenkin Lewis's little -friend, ought to have its niche in the collection. - -Towards the conclusion of his life, Radcliffe said that, "when a young -practitioner, he possessed twenty remedies for every disease; and at -the close of his career he found twenty diseases for which he had not -one remedy." His mode of practice, however, as far as anything is -known about it, at the outset was the same as that which he used at -the conclusion of his career. Pure air, cleanliness, and a wholesome -diet were amongst his most important prescriptions; though he was so -far from running counter to the interests of the druggists, that his -apothecary, Dandridge, whose business was almost entirely confined to -preparing the doctor's medicines, died worth 50,000_l_. For the -imaginary maladies of his hypochondriacal male and fanciful female -patients he had the greatest contempt, and neither respect for age or -rank, nor considerations of interest, could always restrain him from -insulting such patients. In 1686 he was appointed physician to -Princess Anne of Denmark, and was for some years a trusted adviser of -that royal lady; but he lacked the compliant temper and imperturbable -suavity requisite for a court physician. Shortly after the death of -Queen Mary, the Princess Anne, having incurred a fit of what is by the -vulgar termed "blue devils," from not paying proper attention to her -diet, sent in all haste to her physician. Radcliffe, when he received -the imperative summons to hurry to St. James's was sitting over his -bottle in a tavern. The allurements of Bacchus were too strong for -him, and he delayed his visit to the distinguished sufferer. A second -messenger arrived, but by that time the physician was so gloriously -ennobled with claret, that he discarded all petty considerations of -personal advantage, and flatly refused to stir an inch from the room -where he was experiencing all the happiness humanity is capable of. -"Tell her Royal Highness," he exclaimed, banging his fist on the -table, "that her distemper is nothing but the vapours. She's in as -good state of health as any woman breathing--only she can't make up -her mind to believe it." - -The next morning prudence returned with sobriety; and the doctor did -not fail to present himself at an early hour in the Princess's -apartment in St. James's Palace. To his consternation he was stopped -in the ante-room by an officer, and informed that he was dismissed -from his post, which had already been given to Dr. Gibbons. Anne never -forgave the sarcasm about "the vapours." It so rankled in her breast, -that, though she consented to ask for the Doctor's advice both for -herself and those dear to her, she never again held any cordial -communication with him. Radcliffe tried to hide the annoyance caused -him by his fall, in a hurricane of insolence towards his triumphant -rival: Nurse Gibbons had gotten a new nursery--Nurse Gibbons was not -to be envied his new acquisition--Nurse Gibbons was fit only to look -after a woman who merely fancied herself ill. - -Notwithstanding this rupture with the Court, Radcliffe continued to -have the most lucrative practice in town, and in all that regarded -money he was from first to last a most lucky man. On coming to town he -found Lower, the Whig physician, sinking in public favour--and Thomas -Short, the Roman Catholic doctor, about to drop into the grave. -Whistler, Sir Edmund King, and Blackmore had plenty of patients. But -there was a "splendid opening," and so cleverly did Radcliffe slip -into it, that at the end of his first year in town he got twenty -guineas per diem. The difference in the value of money being taken -into consideration, it may be safely affirmed that no living -physician makes more. Occasionally the fees presented to him were very -large. He cured Bentinck, afterwards Earl of Portland, of a -diarrhoea, and Zulestein, afterwards Earl of Rochford, of an attack -of congestion of the brain. For these services William III. presented -him with 500 guineas out of the privy-purse, and offered to appoint -him one of his physicians, with L200 per annum more than he gave any -other of his medical officers. Radcliffe pocketed the fee, but his -Jacobite principles precluded him from accepting the post. William, -however, notwithstanding the opposition of Bidloe and the rest of his -medical servants, held Radcliffe in such estimation that he -continually consulted him; and during the first eleven years of his -reign paid him, one year with another, 600 guineas per annum. And when -he restored to health William, Duke of Gloucester (the Princess of -Denmark's son), who in his third year was attacked with severe -convulsions, Queen Mary sent him, through the hand of her Lord -Chamberlain, 1000 guineas. And for attending the Earl of Albemarle at -Namur he had 400 guineas and a diamond ring, 1200 guineas from the -treasury, and an offer of a baronetcy from the King. - -For many years he was the neighbour of Sir Godfrey Kneller, in Bow -Street. A dispute that occurred between the two neighbours and friends -is worth recording. Sir Godfrey took pleasure in his garden, and -expended large sums of money in stocking it with exotic plants and -rare flowers. Radcliffe also enjoyed a garden, but loved his fees too -well to expend them on one of his own. He suggested to Sir Godfrey -that it would be a good plan to insert a door into the boundary wall -between their gardens, so that on idle afternoons, when he had no -patients to visit, he might slip into his dear friend's -pleasure-grounds. Kneller readily assented to this proposition, and -ere a week had elapsed the door was ready for use. The plan, however, -had not been long acted on when the painter was annoyed by Radcliffe's -servants wantonly injuring his parterres. After fruitlessly -expostulating against these depredations, the sufferer sent a message -to his friend, threatening, if the annoyance recurred, to brick up the -wall. "Tell Sir Godfrey," answered Radcliffe to the messenger, "that -he may do what he likes to the door, so long as he does not paint it." -When this vulgar jeer was reported to Kneller, he replied, with equal -good humour and more wit, "Go back and give my service to Dr. -Radcliffe, and tell him, I'll take anything from him--but physic." - -Radcliffe was never married, and professed a degree of misogyny that -was scarcely in keeping with his conduct on certain occasions. His -person was handsome and imposing, but his manners were little -calculated to please women. Overbearing, truculent, and abusive, he -could not rest without wounding the feelings of his companions with -harsh jokes. Men could bear with him, but ladies were like Queen Anne -in vehemently disliking him. King William was not pleased with his -brutal candour in exclaiming, at the sight of the dropsical ancles -uncovered for inspection, "I would not have your Majesty's legs for -your three kingdoms"; but William's sister-in-law repaid a much -slighter offence with life-long animosity. In 1693, however, the -doctor made an offer to a citizen's daughter, who had beauty and a -fortune of L15,000. As she was only twenty-four years of age, the -doctor was warmly congratulated by his friends when he informed them -that he, though well advanced in middle age, had succeeded in his -suit. Before the wedding-day, however, it was discovered that the -health of the lady rendered it incumbent on her honour that she should -marry her father's book-keeper. This mishap soured the doctor's temper -to the fair sex, and his sarcasms at feminine folly and frailty were -innumerable. - -He was fond of declaring that he wished for an Act of Parliament -entitling nurses to the sole and entire medical care of women. A lady -who consulted him about a nervous singing in the head was advised to -"curl her hair with a ballad." His scorn of women was not lessened by -the advances of certain disorderly ladies of condition, who displayed -for him that morbid passion which medical practitioners have often to -resist in the treatment of hysterical patients. Yet he tried his luck -once again at the table of love. "There's no fool so great as an old -fool." In the summer of 1709, Radcliffe, then in his sixtieth year, -started a new equipage; and having arrayed himself in the newest mode -of foppery, threw all the town into fits of laughter by paying his -addresses, with the greatest possible publicity, to a lady who -possessed every requisite charm--(youth, beauty, wealth)--except a -tenderness for her aged suitor. Again was there an unlucky termination -to the doctor's love, which Steele, in No. 44 of _The Tatler_, -ridiculed in the following manner:-- - -"This day, passing through Covent Garden, I was stopped in the Piazza -by Pacolet, to observe what he called _The Triumph of Love and Youth_. -I turned to the object he pointed at, and there I saw a gay gilt -chariot, drawn by fresh prancing horses, the coachman with a new -cockade, and the lacqueys with insolence and plenty in their -countenances. I asked immediately, 'What young heir, or lover, owned -that glittering equipage!' But my companion interrupted, 'Do not you -see there the mourning AEsculapius?' 'The mourning!' said I. 'Yes, -Isaac,' said Pacolet, 'he is in deep mourning, and is the languishing, -hopeless lover of the divine Hebe, the emblem of Youth and Beauty. -That excellent and learned sage you behold in that furniture is the -strongest instance imaginable that love is the most powerful of all -things. - -"'You are not so ignorant as to be a stranger to the character of -AEsculapius, as the patron and most successful of all who profess the -Art of Medicine. But as most of his operations are owing to a natural -sagacity or impulse, he has very little troubled himself with the -Doctrine of Drugs, but has always given Nature more room to help -herself than any of her learned assistants; and consequently has done -greater wonders than in the power of Art to perform; for which reason -he is half deified by the people, and has ever been courted by all the -world, just as if he were a seventh son. - -"'It happened that the charming Hebe was reduc'd, by a long and -violent fever, to the most extreme danger of Death; and when all skill -failed, they sent for AEsculapius. The renowned artist was touched with -the deepest compassion, to see the faded charms and faint bloom of -Hebe; and had a generous concern, too, in beholding a struggle, not -between Life, but rather between Youth, and Death. All his skill and -his passion tended to the recovery of Hebe, beautiful even in -sickness; but, alas! the unhappy physician knew not that in all his -care he was only sharpening darts for his own destruction. In a word, -his fortune was the same with that of the statuary who fell in love -with an image of his own making; and the unfortunate AEsculapius is -become the patient of her whom he lately recovered. Long before this, -AEsculapius was far gone in the unnecessary and superfluous amusements -of old age, in the increase of unwieldy stores, and the provision in -the midst of an incapacity of enjoyment, of what he had for a supply -of more wants than he had calls for in Youth itself. But these low -considerations are now no more; and Love has taken place of Avarice, -or rather is become an Avarice of another kind, which still urges him -to pursue what he does not want. But behold the metamorphosis: the -anxious mean cares of an usurer are turned into the languishments and -complaints of a lover. "Behold," says the aged AEsculapius, "I submit; -I own, great Love, thy empire. Pity, Hebe, the fop you have made. What -have I to do with gilding but on Pills? Yet, O Fate! for thee I sit -amidst a crowd of painted deities on my chariot, buttoned in gold, -clasp'd in gold, without having any value for that beloved metal, but -as it adorns the person and laces the hat of the dying lover. I ask -not to live, O Hebe! Give me but gentle death. Euthanasia, Euthanasia! -that is all I implore."' When AEsculapius had finished his complaint, -Pacolet went on in deep morals on the uncertainty of riches, with -this remarkable explanation--'O wealth! how impatient art thou! And -how little dost thou supply us with real happiness, when the usurer -himself cannot forget thee, for the love of what is foreign to his -felicity, as thou art!'" - -Seven days after the _Tatler_ resumed the attack, but with less happy -effect. In this picture, the justice of which was not questioned, even -by the Doctor's admirers, the avarice of the veteran is not less -insisted on as the basis of his character, than his amorousness is -displayed as a ludicrous freak of vanity. Indeed, love of money was -the master-defect of Radcliffe's disposition. Without a child, or a -prospect of offspring, he screwed and scraped in every direction. Even -his debaucheries had an alloy of discomfort that does not customarily -mingle in the dissipations of the rich. The flavour of the money each -bottle cost gave ungrateful smack to his wine. He had numerous poor -relations, of whom he took, during his life, little or no notice. Even -his sisters he kept at arm's distance, lest they should show their -affection for him by dipping their hands in his pockets. It is true, -he provided liberally for them at his death--leaving to the one (a -married lady--Mrs. Hannah Redshaw) a thousand a year for life, and to -the other (a spinster lady) an income of half that amount as long as -she lived. But that he treated them with unbrotherly neglect there is -no doubt. - -After his decease, a letter was found in his closet, directed to his -unmarried sister, Millicent Radcliffe, in which, with contrition, and -much pathos, he bids her farewell. "You will find," says he, in that -epistle, "by my will that I have taken better care of you than -perhaps you might expect from my former treatment of you; for which, -with my dying breath, I most heartily ask pardon. I had indeed acted -the brother's part much better, in making a handsome settlement on you -while living, than after my decease; and can plead nothing in excuse, -but that the love of money, which I have emphatically known to be the -root of all evil, was too predominant over me. Though, I hope, I have -made some amends for that odious sin of covetousness, in my last -dispositions of those worldly goods which it pleased the great -Dispenser of Providence to bless me with." - -What made this meanness of disposition in money matters the more -remarkable was, that he was capable of occasional munificence, on a -scale almost beyond his wealth, and also of a stoical fortitude under -any reverse of fortune that chanced to deprive him of some of his -beloved guineas. - -In the year 1704, at a general collection for propagating the Gospel -in foreign parts, he settled on the Society established for that -purpose L50 per annum for ever. And this noble gift he unostentatiously -made under an assumed name. In the same year he presented L520 to the -Bishop of Norwich, to be distributed among the poor non-juring clergy; -and this donation he also desired should be kept a secret from the -world. - -His liberality to Oxford was far from being all of the _post-mortem_ -sort. In 1687 he presented the chapel of University College with an -east window, representing, in stained glass, the Nativity, and having -the following inscription:--"D.D. Johan Radcliffe, M.D., hujus -Collegii quondam Socius, Anno Domini MDCLXXXVII." In 1707 he gave -Sprat, Bishop of Rochester, bills for L300, drawn under the assumed -name of Francis Andrews, on Waldegrave the goldsmith, of Russell -Street, Covent Garden, for the relief of distressed Scotch Episcopal -clergy. - -As another instance of how his niggard nature could allow him to do -good by stealth, and blush to find it fame, his liberality to James -Drake, the Tory writer, may be mentioned. Drake was a physician, as -well as a political author. As the latter, he was well liked, as the -former he was honestly hated by Radcliffe. Two of a trade--where one -of the two is a John Radcliffe--can never agree. Each of the two -doctors had done his utmost to injure the reputation of the other. But -when Drake, broken in circumstances by a political persecution, was in -sore distress from want of money, Radcliffe put fifty guineas into a -lady's hands, and begged her to convey it to Drake. "Let him," said -Radcliffe, with the delicacy of a fine heart, "by no means be told -whence it comes. He is a gentleman, and has often done his best to -hurt me. He could, therefore, by no means brook the receipt of a -benefit from a person whom he had used all possible means to make an -enemy." - -After such instances of Ratcliffe's generosity, it may seem -unnecessary to give more proofs of the existence of that quality, -disguised though it was by miserly habits. His friend Nutley, a loose -rollicking gentleman about town, a barrister without practice, a man -of good family, and no fortune, a jovial dog, with a jest always on -his lips, wine in his head, and a death's-head grinning over each -shoulder [such bachelors may still be found in London], was in this -case the object of the doctor's benevolence. Driven by duns and -tippling to the borders of distraction, Nutley crept out of his -chambers under the cover of night to the "Mitre Tavern," and called -for "a bottle." "A bottle" with Nutley meant "many bottles." The end -of it was that the high-spirited gentleman fell down in a condition of ----- well! in a condition that Templars, in this age of earnest -purpose and decent morals, would blush to be caught in. Mr. Nutley was -taken hold of by the waiters, and carried up-stairs to bed. - -The next morning the merry fellow is in the saddest of all possible -humours. The memory of a few little bills, the holders of which are -holding a parliament on his stair-case in Pump-court; the recollection -that he has not a guinea left--either to pacify those creditors with, -or to use in paying for the wine consumed over night; a depressing -sense that the prominent features of civilized existence are -tax-gatherers and sheriff's officers; a head that seems to be falling -over one side of the pillow, whilst the eyes roll out on the -other;--all these afflict poor Mr. Nutley! A knock at the door, and -the landlady enters. The landlady is the Widow Watts, daughter of the -widow Bowles, also in the same line. As now, so a hundred and fifty -years ago, ladies in licensed victualling circles played tricks with -their husbands' night-caps--killed them with kindness, and reigned in -their stead. The widow Watts has a sneaking fondness for poor Mr. -Nutley, and is much affected when, in answer to her inquiry how "his -honour feels his-self," he begins to sob like a child, narrate the -troubles of his infancy, the errors of his youth, and the sorrows of -his riper age. Mistress Watts is alarmed. Only to think of Mr. Nutley -going on like that, talking of his blessed mother who had been dead -these twenty years, and vowing he'd kill himself, because he is an -outcast, and no better than a disgrace to his family. "To think of it! -and only yesterday he were the top of company, and would have me drink -his own honourable health in a glass of his own wine." Mistress Watts -sends straightway for Squire Nutley's friend, the Doctor. When -Radcliffe makes his appearance, he sees the whole case at a glance, -rallies Billy Nutley about his rascally morals, estimates his -assertion that "it's only his liver a little out of order" exactly at -its worth, and takes his leave shortly, saying to himself, "If poor -Billy could only be freed from the depression caused by his present -pecuniary difficulties, he would escape for this once a return of the -deliri...." At the end of another half hour, a goldsmith's man enters -the bed-room, and puts into Nutley's hand a letter and a bag of gold -containing 200 guineas. The epistle is from Radcliffe, begging his -friend to accept the money, and to allow the donor to send him in a -few days 300 more of the same coins. Such was the physician's -prescription, in dispensing which he condescended to act as his own -apothecary. Bravo, doctor!--who of us shall say which of the good -deeds--thy gift to Billy Nutley or thy princely bequest to Oxford--has -the better right to be regarded as the offspring of sincere -benevolence? Some--and let no "fie!" be cried upon them--will find in -this story more to make them love thy memory than they have ever found -in that noble library whose dome stands up amidst the towers, and -steeples, and sacred walls of beloved Oxford. - -It would not be hard to say which of the two gifts has done the -greater good. Poor Will Nutley took his 500 guineas, and had "more -bottles," went a few more times to the theatres in lace and velvet and -brocade, roared out at a few more drinking bouts, and was carried off -by [his biographer calls it "a violent fever"] in the twenty-ninth -year of his age. And possibly since Willy Nutley was Willy Nutley, and -no one else, this was the best possible termination for him. That -Radcliffe, the head of a grave profession, and a man of fifty-seven -years of age, should have conceived an enthusiastic friendship for a -youngster of half his age, is a fact that shows us one of the -consequences of the tavern life of our great-grandfathers. It puts us -in mind of how Fielding, ere he had a beard, burst into popularity -with the haunters of coffee-houses. When roistering was in fashion, a -young man had many chances which he no longer possesses. After the -theatres were closed, he reeled into the hostels of the town, singing -snatches with the blithe, clear voice of youth, laughing and jesting -with all around, and frequently amongst that "all" he came in contact -with the highest and most powerful men of the time. A boy-adventurer -could display his wit and quality to statesmen and leaders of all -sorts; whereas now he must wait years before he is even introduced to -them, and years more ere he gets an invitation to their formal -dinners, at which Barnes Newcome cuts as brilliant a figure as the -best and the strongest. - -Throughout his life Radcliffe was a staunch and manly Jacobite. He was -for "the king"; but neither loyalty nor interest could bind him to -higher considerations than those of attachment to the individual he -regarded as the rightful head of the realm. In 1688, when Obadiah -Walker tried to wheedle him into the folly of becoming a Romanist, the -attempt at perversion proved a signal failure. Nothing can be more -truly manly than his manner of rejecting the wily advances of the -proselytizing pervert. "The advantages you propose to me," he writes, -"may be very great, for all that I know; God Almighty can do very much -and so can the king; but you'll pardon me if I cease to speak like a -physician for once, and, with an air of gravity, am very apprehensive -that I may anger the one in being too complaisant to the other. You -cannot call this pinning my faith to any man's sleeve; those that know -me are too well apprized of my quite contrary tendency. As I never -flattered a man myself, so 'tis my firm resolution never to be -wheedled out of my real sentiments--which are, that since it has been -my good fortune to be educated according to the usage of the Church of -England, established by law, I shall never make myself so unhappy as -to shame my teachers and instructors by departing from what I have -imbibed from them." - -Thus was Walker treated when he abused his position as head of -University College. But when the foolish man was deprived of his -office, he found a good friend in him whom he had tried to seduce from -the Church in which he had been reared. From the time of his first -coming to London from Oxford, on the abdication of James the Second, -up to the time of his death, Walker subsisted on a handsome allowance -made to him out of Radcliffe's purse. When, also, the discarded -principal died, it was the doctor who gave him an honourable interment -in Pancras churchyard, and years afterwards erected a monument to his -memory. - -As years passed on, without the restitution of the proscribed males of -the Stuart House, Radcliffe's political feelings became more bitter. -He was too cautious a man to commit himself in any plot having for its -object a change of dynasty; but his ill-humour at the existing state -of things vented itself in continual sarcasms against the chiefs of -the Whig party with whom he came in contact. He professed that he did -not wish for practice amongst the faction to which he was opposed. He -had rather only preserve the lives of those citizens who were loyal to -their king. One of the immediate results of this affectation was -increased popularity with his political antagonists. Whenever a Whig -leader was dangerously ill, his friends were sure to feel that his -only chance of safety rested on the ministrations of the Jacobite -doctor. Radcliffe would be sent for, and after swearing a score of -times that nothing should induce him to comply with the summons, would -make his appearance at the sick-bed, where he would sometimes tell the -sufferer that the devil would have no mercy on those who put -constitutional governments above the divine right of kings. If the -patient recovered, of course his cure was attributed to the Tory -physician; and if death was the result, the same cause was pointed -to. - -It might be fancied that, rather than incur a charge of positively -killing his political antagonists, Radcliffe would have left them to -their fates. But this plan would have served him the reverse of well. -If he failed to attend a Whig's death-bed to which he had been -summoned, the death was all the same attributed to him. "He might," -exclaimed the indignant survivors, "have saved poor Tom if he had -liked; only poor Tom was a Whig, and so he left him to die." He was -charged alike with killing Queen Mary, whom he did attend in her dying -illness--and Queen Anne, whom he didn't. - -The reader of the Harleian MS. of Burnet's "History" is amused with -the following passage, which does not appear in the printed -editions:--"I will not enter into another province, nor go out of my -own profession, and so will say no more of the physician's part, but -that it was universally condemned; so that the Queen's death was -imputed to the unskilfulness and wilfulness of Dr. Radcliffe, an -impious and vicious man, who hated the Queen much, but virtue and -religion more. He was a professed Jacobite, and was, by many, thought -a very bad physician; but others cried him up to the highest degree -imaginable. He was called for, and it appeared but too evident that -his opinion was depended on. Other physicians were called when it was -too late; all symptoms were bad, yet still the Queen felt herself -well." - -Radcliffe's negative murder of Queen Anne was yet more amusing than -his positive destruction of Mary. When Queen Anne was almost _in -extremis_, Radcliffe was sent for. The Queen, though she never forgave -him for his drunken ridicule of her vapours, had an exalted opinion -of his professional talents, and had, more than once, winked at her -ladies, consulting him about the health of their royal mistress. Now -that death was at hand, Lady Masham sent a summons for the doctor; but -he was at Carshalton, sick of his dying illness, and returned answer -that it would be impossible for him to leave his country-seat and wait -on her Majesty. Such was the absurd and superstitious belief in his -mere presence, that the Queen was popularly pictured as having died -because he was not present to see her draw her last breath. Whom he -liked he could kill, and whom he liked could keep alive and well. Even -Arbuthnot, a brother physician, was so tinctured with the popular -prejudice, that he could gravely tell Swift of the pleasure Radcliffe -had "in preserving my Lord Chief Justice Holt's wife, whom he attended -out of spite to her husband, who wished her dead." - -It makes one smile to read Charles Ford's letter to the sarcastic Dean -on the subject of the Queen's last illness. "She continued ill the -whole day. In the evening I spoke to Dr Arbuthnot, and he told me that -he did not think her distemper was desperate. Radcliffe was sent for -to Carshalton about noon, by order of council; but said he had taken -physic and could not come. _In all probability he had saved her life; -for I am told the late Lord Gower had been often in the condition with -the gout in the head, and Radcliffe kept him alive many years after._" -The author of Gulliver must have grinned as he read this sentence. It -was strange stuff to write about "that puppy Radcliffe" (as the Dean -calls the physician in his journal to Stella) to the man who coolly -sent out word to a Dublin mob that he had put off an eclipse to a -more suitable time. The absurdity of Ford's letter is heightened by -the fact that it was written before the Queen's death. It is dated -July 31, 1714, and concludes with the following postscript:--"The -Queen is something better, and the council again adjourned till eight -in the morning." Surely the accusation, then, of negative -womanslaughter was preferred somewhat prematurely. The next day, -however, the Queen died; and then arose a magnificent hubbub of -indignation against the impious doctor. The poor man himself sinking -into the grave, was at that country-seat where he had entertained his -medical friends with so many noisy orgies. But the cries for vengeance -reached him in his retreat. "Give us back our ten days!" screamed the -rabble of London round Lord Chesterfield's carriage. "Give us back our -Queen!" was the howl directed against Radcliffe. The accused was a -member of the House of Commons, having been elected M.P. for the town -of Buckingham in the previous year; and positively a member (one of -Radcliffe's intimate personal acquaintances) moved that the physician -should be summoned to attend in his place and be censured for not -attending her late Majesty. To a friend the doctor wrote from -Carshalton on August 7, 1714:--"Dear Sir,--I could not have thought so -old an acquaintance, and so good a friend as Sir John always professed -himself, would have made such a motion against me. God knows my will -to do her Majesty any service has ever got the start of my ability, -and I have nothing that gives me greater anxiety and trouble than the -death of that great and glorious Princess. I must do that justice to -the physicians that attended her in her illness, from a sight of the -method that was taken for her preservation, transmitted to me by Dr -Mead, as to declare nothing was omitted for her preservation; but the -people about her (the plagues of Egypt fall upon them!) put it out of -the power of physick to be of any benefit to her. I know the nature of -attending crowned heads to their last moments too well to be fond of -waiting upon them, without being sent for by a proper authority. You -have heard of pardons signed for physicians before a sovereign's -demise. However, as ill as I was, I would have went to the Queen in a -horse-litter, had either her Majesty, or those in commission next to -her, commanded me so to do. You may tell Sir John as much, and assure -him, from me, that his zeal for her Majesty will not excuse his ill -usage of _a friend who has drunk many a hundred bottles with him_, and -cannot, even after this breach of good understanding, that was ever -preserved between us, but have a very good esteem for him." - -So strong was the feeling against the doctor, that a set of maniacs at -large formed a plan for his assassination. Fortunately, however, the -plot was made known to him in the following letter:-- - -"Doctor,--Tho' I am no friend of yours, but, on the contrary, one that -could wish your destruction in a legal way, for not preventing the -death of our most excellent Queen, whom you had it in your power to -save, yet I have such an aversion to the taking away men's lives -unfairly, as to acquaint you that if you go to meet the gentlemen you -have appointed to dine with at the 'Greyhound,' in Croydon, on -Thursday next, you will be most certainly murthered. I am one of the -persons engaged in the conspiracy, with twelve more, who are resolved -to sacrifice you to the _Ghost of her late Majesty, that cries aloud -for blood_; therefore, neither stir out of doors that day, nor any -other, nor think of exchanging your present abode for your house at -Hammersmith, since there and everywhere else we shall be in quest of -you. I am touched with remorse, and give you this notice; but take -care of yourself, lest I repent of it, and give proofs of so doing, by -having it in my power to destroy you, who am your sworn enemy.--N. G." - -That thirteen men could have been found to meditate such a ridiculous -atrocity is so incredible, that one is inclined to suspect a hoax in -this epistle. Radcliffe, however, did not see the letter in that -light. Panic-struck, he kept himself a close prisoner to his house and -its precincts, though he was very desirous of paying another visit to -London--the monotony of his rural seclusion being broken only by the -customary visits of his professional associates who came down to -comfort and drink with him. The end, however, was fast approaching. -The maladies under which he suffered were exacerbated by mental -disquiet; and his powers suddenly failing him, he expired on the 1st -of November, 1714, just three months after the death of the murdered -Queen, of whose vapours he had spoken so disrespectfully. - -His original biographer (from whose work all his many memoirs have -been taken) tells the world that the great physician "_fell a victim -to the ingratitude of a thankless world, and the fury of the gout_." - -Radcliffe was an ignorant man, but shrewd enough to see that in the -then existing state of medical science the book-learning of the -Faculty could be but of little service to him. He was so notoriously -deficient in the literature of his profession, that his warmest -admirers made merry about it. Garth happily observed that for -Radcliffe to leave a library was as if a eunuch should found a -seraglio. Nor was Radcliffe ashamed to admit his lack of lore. Indeed, -he was proud of it; and on the inquiry being made by Bathurst, the -head of Trinity College, Oxford, where his study was, he pointed to a -few vials, a skeleton, and an herbal, and answered, "This is -Radcliffe's library." Mead, who rose into the first favour of the town -as the doctor retired from it, was an excellent scholar; but far from -assuming on that ground a superiority to his senior, made it the means -of paying him a graceful compliment. The first time that Radcliffe -called on Mead when in town he found his young friend reading -Hippocrates. - -"Do you read Hippocrates in Greek?" demanded the visitor. - -"Yes," replied Mead, timidly fearing his scholarship would offend the -great man. - -"I never read him in my life," responded Radcliffe, sullenly. - -"You, sir," was the rejoinder, "have no occasion--you are Hippocrates -himself." - -A man who could manufacture flattery so promptly and courageously -deserved to get on. Radcliffe swallowed the fly, and was glad to be -the prey of the expert angler. Only the day before, Mead had thrown -in his ground-bait. As a promising young man, Radcliffe had asked him -to a dinner-party at Carshalton, with the hospitable resolve of -reducing such a promising young man to a state of intoxication, in the -presence of the assembled elders of his profession. Mead, however, was -not to be so managed. He had strong nerves, and was careful to drink -as little as he could without attracting attention by his abstinence. -The consequence was that Mead saw magnate after magnate disappear -under the table, just as he had before seen magnum after magnum -disappear above it; and still he retained his self-possession. At last -he and his host were the only occupants of the banqueting-room left in -a non-recumbent position. Radcliffe was delighted with his youthful -acquaintance--loved him almost as well as he had loved Billy Nutley. - -"Mead," cried the enthusiastic veteran to the young man, who anyhow -had not _fallen_ from his chair, "you are a _rising_ man. You will -succeed me." - -"That, sir, is impossible," Mead adroitly answered; "You are Alexander -the Great, and no one can succeed Radcliffe; to succeed to one of his -kingdoms is the utmost of my ambition." - -Charmed with the reply, Radcliffe exclaimed, - -"By ----, I'll recommend you to my patients." - -The promise was kept; and Mead endeavoured to repay the worldly -advancement with spiritual council. "I remember," says Kennett (_vide_ -Lansdowne MSS., Brit. Mus.), "what Dr Mede has told to several of his -friends, that he fell much into the favour of Dr Radcliffe a few years -before his death, and visited him often at Carshalton, where he -observed upon occasion that there was no Bible to be found in the -house. Dr Mede had a mind to supply that defect, without taking any -notice of it; and therefore one day carried down with him a very -beautiful Bible that he had lately bought, which had lain in a closet -of King William for his Majesty's own use, and left it as a curiosity -that he had picked up by the way. When Dr Mede made the last visit to -him he found that Dr R. had read in it as far as the middle of the -Book of Exodus, from whence it might be inferred that he had never -before read the Scriptures; as I doubt must be inferred of Dr Linacre, -from the account given by Sir John Cheke." - -The allusion to "the kingdom of Alexander the Great" reminds one of -Arbuthnot's letter to Swift, in which the writer concludes his sketch -of the proposed map of diseases for Martinus Scriblerus with--"Then -the great diseases are like capital cities, with their symptoms all -like streets and suburbs, with the roads that lead to other diseases. -It is thicker set with towns than any Flanders map you ever saw. -Radcliffe is painted at the corner of the map, contending for the -universal empire of this world, and the rest of the physicians -opposing his ambitious designs, with a project of a treaty of -partition to settle peace." - -As a practitioner, Radcliffe served the public as well as he did his -own interests. The violent measures of bleeding, and the exhibition of -reducing medicines, which constituted the popular practice even to the -present generation, he regarded with distrust in some cases and horror -in others. There is a good story told of him, that well illustrates -his disapproval of a kill-or-cure system, and his hatred of Nurse -Gibbons. John Bancroft, the eminent surgeon, who resided in Russell -Street, Covent Garden, had a son attacked with inflammation of the -lungs. Gibbons was called in, and prescribed the most violent -remedies, or rather the most virulent irritants. The child became -rapidly worse, and Radcliffe was sent for. "I can do nothing, sir," -observed the doctor, after visiting his patient, "for the poor little -boy's preservation. He is killed to all intents and purposes. But if -you have any thoughts of putting a stone over him, I'll help you to an -inscription." The offer was accepted, and over the child's grave, in -Covent Garden churchyard, was placed a stone sculptured with a figure -of a child laying one hand on his side, and saying, "Hic dolor," and -pointing with the other to a death's head on which was engraved, "Ibi -medicus." This is about the prettiest professional libel which we can -point to in all the quarrels of the Faculty. - -The uses to which the doctor applied his wealth every one knows. -Notwithstanding his occasional acts of munificence, and a loss of -L5000 in an East Indian venture, into which Betterton, the tragedian, -seduced him, his accumulations were very great. In his will, after -liberally providing for the members of his family and his dependents, -he devoted his acquisitions to the benefit of the University of -Oxford. From them have proceeded the Radcliffe Library, the Radcliffe -Infirmary, the Radcliffe Observatory, and the Radcliffe Travelling -Fellowships. It is true that nothing has transpired in the history of -these last-mentioned endowments to justify us in reversing the -sentiment of Johnson, who remarked to Boswell: "It is wonderful how -little good Radcliffe's Travelling Fellowships have done. I know -nothing that has been imported by them." - -After lying in state at his own residence, and again in the -University, Radcliffe's body was interred, with great pomp, in St. -Mary's Church, Oxford. The royal gift of so large an estate (which -during life he had been unable thoroughly to enjoy) to purchase a -library, the contents of which he at no time could have read, of -course provoked much comment. It need not be said that the testator's -memory was, for the most part, extolled to the skies. He had died -rich--a great virtue in itself. He was dead; and as men like to deal -out censure as long as it can cause pain, and scatter praise when it -can no longer create happiness, Radcliffe, the physician, the friend -of suffering humanity, the benefactor of ancient and Tory Oxford, was -spoken of in "most handsome terms." One could hardly believe that this -great good man, this fervent Christian and sublime patriot, was the -same man as he whom Steele had ridiculed for servile vanity, and to -bring whom into contempt a play was written, and publicly acted, only -ten years before, to the intense delight of the Duchess of -Marlborough, and the applauding maids of honour. - -The philosophic Mandeville, far from approving the behaviour of the -fickle multitude, retained his old opinion of the doctor, and gave it -to the world in his "Essay on Charity and Charity Schools." "That a -man," writes Mandeville, "with small skill in physic, and hardly any -learning, should by vile arts get into practice, and lay up great -wealth, is no mighty wonder; but that he should so deeply work -himself into the good opinion of the world as to gain the general -esteem of a nation, and establish a reputation beyond all his -contemporaries, with no other qualities but a perfect knowledge of -mankind, and a capacity of making the most of it, is something -extraordinary. - -"If a man arrived to such a height of glory should be almost -distracted with pride--sometime give his attendance on a servant, or -any mean person, for nothing and at the same time neglect a nobleman -that gives exhorbitant fees--at other times refuse to leave his bottle -for his business, without any regard to the quality of the persons -that sent for him, or the danger they are in; if he should be surly -and morose, affect to be an humourist, treat his patients like dogs, -though people of distinction, and value no man but what would deify -him, and never call in question the certainty of his oracles; if he -should insult all the world, affront the first nobility, and extend -his insolence even to the royal family; if to maintain, as well as to -increase, the fame of his sufficiency, he should scorn to consult his -betters, on what emergency soever, look down with contempt on the most -deserving of his profession, and never confer with any other physician -but what will pay homage to his genius, creep to his humour, and ever -approach him with all the slavish obsequiousness a court flatterer can -treat a prince with; if a man in his life-time should discover, on the -one hand, such manifest symptoms of superlative pride, and an -insatiable greediness after wealth at the same time; and, on the -other, no regard to religion or affection to his kindred, no -compassion to the poor, and hardly any humanity to his fellow-creatures; -if he gave no proofs that he loved his country, had a public spirit, -or was a lover of the arts, of books, or of literature--what must we -judge of his motive, the principle he acted from, when, after his -death, we find that he has left a trifle among his relations who stood -in need of it, and an immense treasure to a University that did not -want it. - -"Let a man be as charitable as it is possible for him to be, without -forfeiting his reason or good sense, can he think otherwise, but that -this famous physician did, in the making of his will, as in everything -else, indulge his darling passion, entertaining his vanity with the -happiness of the contrivance?" - -This severe portrait is just about as true as the likeness of a man, -painted by a conscientious enemy, usually is. Radcliffe was not -endowed with a kindly nature. "Mead, I love you," said he to his -fascinating adulator; "and I'll tell you a sure secret to make your -fortune--use all mankind ill." Radcliffe carried out his rule by -wringing as much as possible from, and returning as little as possible -to, his fellowmen. He could not pay a tradesman's bill without a sense -of keen suffering. Even a poor pavior, who had been employed to do a -job to the stones before the doctor's house in Bloomsbury Square -(whither the physician removed from Bow Street), could not get his -money without a contest. "Why, you rascal!" cried the debtor, as he -alighted from his chariot, "do you pretend to be paid for such a piece -of work! Why, you have spoiled my pavement, and then covered it over -with earth to hide the bad work." - -"Doctor," responded the man, dryly, "mine is not the only bad work the -earth hides." - -Of course, the only course to pursue with a creditor who could dun in -this sarcastic style was to pay, and be rid of him. But the doctor -made up for his own avarice by being ever ready to condemn it in -others. - -Tyson, the miser, being near his last hour, magnanimously resolved to -pay two of his 3,000,000 guineas to Radcliffe, to learn if anything -could be done for his malady. The miserable old man came up with his -wife from Hackney, and tottered into the consulting-room in Bloomsbury -Square, with two guineas in his hand-- - -"You may go, sir," exclaimed Radcliffe, to the astonished wretch, who -trusted he was unknown--"you may go home, and die, and be ----, -without a speedy repentance; for both the grave and the devil are -ready for Tyson of Hackney, who has grown rich out of the spoils of -the public and the tears of orphans and widows. You'll be a dead man, -sir, in ten days." - -There are numerous stories extant relative to Radcliffe's practice; -but nearly all those which bear the stamp of genuineness are unfit for -publication in the present polite age. Such stories as the -hasty-pudding one, re-edited by the pleasant author of "The -Gold-headed Cane," can be found by the dozen, but the cumbrous -workmanship of Mr. Joseph Miller is manifest in them all. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -THE DOCTOR AS A BON-VIVANT. - - -"What must I do, sir!" inquired an indolent bon-vivant of Abernethy. - -"Live on sixpence a day, and earn it, sir," was the stern answer. - -Gabriel Fallopius, who has given his name to a structure with which -anatomists are familiar, gave the same reproof in a more delicate -manner. With a smile he replied in the words of Terence, - -"Otio abundas Antipho,"--"Sir, you're as lazy as Hall's dog." - -But, though medical practitioners have dealt in sayings like these, to -do them bare justice, it must be admitted that their preaching has -generally been contradicted by the practice. When medicine remained -very much in the hands of the ladies, the composition of remedies, and -the making of dinners, went on in the same apartment. Indeed hunger -and thirst were but two out of a list of diseases that were ministered -to by the attendants round a kitchen table. The same book held the -receipts for dishes and the recipes for electuaries. In many an old -hall of England the manual still remains from which three centuries -ago the lady of the house learned to dress a boar's head or cure a -cold. Most physicians would now disdain to give dietetic instruction -to a patient beyond the most general directions; but there are cases -where, even in these days, they stoop to do so, with advantage to -themselves and their patients. - -"I have ordered twelve dinners this morning," a cheery little doctor -said to the writer of these pages, on the white cliffs of a well-known -sea-side town. - -"Indeed--I did not know that was your business." - -"But it is. A host of rich old invalids come down here to be -medicinally treated. They can't be happy without good living, and yet -are so ignorant of the science and art of eating, that they don't know -how to distinguish between a luxurious and pernicious diet, and a -luxurious and wholesome one. They flock to the 'Duke's Hotel,' and I -always tell the landlord what they are to have. Each dinner costs -three or four guineas. They'd grudge them, and their consciences would -be uneasy at spending so much money, if they ordered their dinners -themselves. But when they regard the fare as medicine recommended by -the doctor, there is no drawback to their enjoyment of it. Their -confidence in me is unbounded." - -The bottle and the board were once the doctor's two favourite -companions. More than one eminent physician died in testifying his -affection for them. In the days of tippling they were the most -persevering of tavern-haunters. No wonder that some of them were as -fat as Daniel Lambert, and that even more died sudden deaths from -apoplexy. The obesity of Dr. Stafford was celebrated in an epitaph:-- - - "Take heed, O good traveller, and do not tread hard, - For here lies Dr. Stafford in all this churchyard." - -Dr. Beddoes was so stout that the Clifton ladies used to call him -their "walking feather-bed." - -Dr. Flemyng weighed twenty stone and eleven pounds, till he reduced -his weight by abstinence from the delicacies of the table, and by -taking a quarter of an ounce of common Castile soap every night. - -Dr. Cheyne's weight was thirty-two stone, till he cured himself by -persevering in a temperate diet. Laughing at two unwieldly noblemen -whose corpulence was the favourite jest of all the wits in the court, -Louis XV. said to one of them, "I suppose you take little or no -exercise." - -"Your Majesty will pardon me," replied the bulky duke, "for I -generally walk two or three times round my cousin every morning." - -Sir Theodore Mayerne, who, though he was the most eminent physician of -his time, did not disdain to write "Excellent and Well-Approved -Receipts in Cookery, with the best way of Preserving," was killed by -tavern wine. He died, after returning from supper in a Strand hotel; -his immediate friends attributing his unexpected death to the quality -of the beverage, but others, less charitable, setting it down to the -quantity. - -Not many years ago, about a score surgeons were dining together at a -tavern, when, about five minutes after some very "particular port" had -been sent round for the first time, they all fell back in their -chairs, afflicted in various degrees with sickness, vertigo, and -spasm. A more pleasant sight for the waiters can hardly be conceived. -One after one the gentlemen were conveyed to beds or sofas. -Unfortunately for the startling effect which the story would otherwise -have produced, they none of them expired. The next day they remembered -that, instead of relishing the "particular port," they had detected a -very unpleasant smack in it. The black bottles were demanded from the -trembling landlord, when chemical analysis soon discovered that they -had been previously used for fly-poison, and had not been properly -cleansed. A fine old crust of such a kind is little to be desired. - -It would perhaps have been well had old Butler (mentioned elsewhere in -these volumes) met with a similar mishap, if it had only made him a -less obstinate frequenter of beer-shops. He loved tobacco, deeming it - - "A physician - Good both for sound and sickly; - 'Tis a hot perfume - That expels cold Rheume, - And makes it flow down quickly." - -It is on record that he made one of his patients smoke twenty-five -pipes at a sitting. But fond though he was of tobacco, he was yet -fonder of beer. He invented a drink called "Butler's Ale," afterwards -sold at the Butler's Head, in Mason's Alley, Basinghall Street. -Indeed, he was a sad old scamp. Nightly he would go to the tavern, and -drink deeply for hours, till his maid-servant, old Nell, came between -nine and ten o'clock and _fetched_ him home, scolding him all the way -for being such a sot. But though Butler liked ale and wine for -himself, he thought highly of water for other people. When he occupied -rooms in the Savoy, looking over the Thames, a gentleman afflicted -with an ague came to consult him. Butler tipped the wink to his -servants, who flung the sick man, in the twinkling of an eye, slap out -of the window into the river. We are asked to believe that "the -surprise absolutely cured" the patient of his malady. - -The physicians of Charles the Second's day were jolly fellows. They -made deep drinking and intrigue part of their profession as well as of -their practice. Their books contain arguments in favour of indulgence, -which their passions suggested and the taste of the times approved. -Tobias Whitaker and John Archer, both physicians in ordinary to the -merry monarch, were representative men of their class. Whitaker, a -Norfolk man, practised with success at Norwich before coming up to -London. He published a discourse upon waters, that proved him very -ignorant on the subject; and a treatise on the properties of wine, -that is a much better testimony to the soundness of his understanding. -Prefixed to his "Elenchus of opinions on Small-Pox," is a portrait -that represents him as a well-looking fellow. That he was a sincere -and discerning worshipper of Bacchus, is shown by his "Tree of Humane -Life, or the Bloud of the Grape. Proving the possibilitie of -maintaining humane life from infancy to extreame old age without any -sicknesse by the use of Wine." In this work (sold, by the way, in the -author's shop, Pope's Head Alley) we read of wine,--"This is the -phisick that doth not dull, but sets a true edge upon nature, after -operation leaveth no venomous contact. Sure I am this was ancient -phisick, else what meant Avicenna, Rhasis, and Averroes, to move the -body twice every month with the same; as it is familiar to Nature, so -they used it familiarly. As for my own experience, though I have not -lived yet so long as to love excesse, yet have I seene such powerful -effects, both on my selfe and others, as if I could render no other -reason, they were enough to persuade me of its excellencie, seeing -extenuate withered bodies by it caused to be faire, fresh, plumpe, and -fat, old and infirme to be young and sound, when as water or -small-beer drinkers looke like apes rather than men." - -John Archer, the author of "Every Man his own Doctor," and "Secrets -Disclosed," was an advocate of generous diet and enlightened -sensuality. His place of business was "a chamber in a Sadler's howse -over against the Black Horse nigh Charing-cross," where his hours of -attendance for some years were from 11 A. M. to 5 P. M. each day. On -setting up a house at Knightsbridge, where he resided in great style, -he shortened the number of hours daily passed in London. In 1684 he -announced in one of his works--"For these and other Directions you may -send to the Author, at his chamber against the _Mews_ by -Charing-cross, who is certainly there from twelve to four, at other -times at his house at Knightsbridge, being a mile from Charing-cross, -where is good air for cure of consumptions, melancholy, and other -infirmities." He had also a business established in Winchester Street, -near Gresham College, next door to the _Fleece Tavern_. Indeed, -physician-in-ordinary to the King though he was, he did not think it -beneath him to keep a number of apothecaries' shops, and, like -Whitaker, to live by the sale of drugs as well as fees. His cordial -dyet drink was advertised as costing 2_s._ 6_d._ per quart; for a box -containing 30 morbus pills, the charge was 5_s._; 40 corroborating -pills were to be had for the same sum. Like Dr. Everard, he -recommended his patients to smoke, saying that "tobacco smoke purified -the air from infectious malignancy by its fragrancy, sweetened the -breath, strengthened the brain and memory, and revived the sight to -admiration." He sold tobacco, of a superior quality to the ordinary -article of commerce, at 2_s._ and 1_s._ an ounce. "The order of taking -it is like other tobacco at any time; its virtues may be perceived by -taking one pipe, after which you will spit more, and your mouth will -be dryer than after common tobacco, which you may moisten by drinking -any warm drink, as coffee, &c., or with sugar candy, liquorish, or a -raisin, and you will find yourself much refreshed." - -Whilst Whitaker and Archer were advising men to smoke and drink, -another physician of the Court was inventing a stomach-brush, in some -respects much like the bottle-brush with which fly-poison ought to be -taken from the interior of black bottles before wine is committed to -them. This instrument was pushed down the gullet, and then poked about -and turned round, much in the same way as a chimney-sweeper's brush is -handled by a dexterous operator on soot. It was recommended that -gentlemen should thus sweep out their insides not oftener than once a -week, but not less frequently than once a month. The curious may find -not only a detailed description but engraved likeness of this -remarkable stomach-brush in the _Gentleman's Magazine_, vol. xx., for -the year 1750. - -It would be unfair to take leave of Dr. Archer without mentioning his -three inventions, on which he justly prided himself not a little. He -constructed a hot steam-bath, an oven "which doth with a small faggot -bake a good quantity of anything," and "a compleat charriot that shall -with any ordinary horse run swift with four or five people within, and -there is place for more without, all which one horse can as easily -draw as two horses." In these days of vapour baths, bachelors' -kettles, and broughams, surely Dr. Archer ought to have a statue by -the side of Jenner in Trafalgar Square. - -The doctors of Anne's time were of even looser morals than their -immediate predecessors. In taverns, over wine, they received patients -and apothecaries. It became fashionable (a fashion that has lasted -down to the present day) for a physician to scratch down his -prescriptions illegibly; the mode, in all probability, arising from -the fact that a doctor's hand was usually too unsteady to write -distinctly. - -Freind continually visited his patients in a state of intoxication. To -one lady of high rank he came in such a state of confusion that when -in her room he could only grumble to himself, "Drunk--drunk--drunk, by -God!" Fortunately the fair patient was suffering from the same malady -as her doctor, who (as she learnt from her maid on returning to -consciousness) had made the above bluff comment on _her_ case, and -then had gone away. The next day, Freind was sitting in a penitent -state over his tea, debating what apology he should offer to his -aristocratic patient, when he was relieved from his perplexity by the -arrival of a note from the lady herself enclosing a handsome fee, -imploring her dear Dr. Freind to keep her secret, and begging him to -visit her during the course of the day. - -On another occasion Freind wrote a prescription for a member of an -important family, when his faculties were so evidently beyond his -control that Mead was sent for. On arriving, Mead, with a -characteristic delicacy towards his professional friend, took up the -tipsy man's prescription, and having looked at it, said, "'Pon my -honour, Dr. Freind can write a better prescription when drunk than I -can when sober." - -Gibbons--the "Nurse Gibbons" of our old friend Radcliffe--was a deep -drinker, disgusting, by the grossness of his debaucheries, the polite -and epicurean Garth. But Gibbons did something for English -dinner-tables worth remembering. He brought into domestic use the -mahogany with which we have so many pleasant associations. His -brother, a West Indian Captain, brought over some of the wood as -ballast, thinking it might possibly turn to use. At first the -carpenters, in a truly conservative spirit, refused to have anything -to do with the "new wood," saying it was too hard for their tools. Dr. -Gibbons, however, had first a candle-box and then a bureau made for -Mrs. Gibbons out of the condemned material. The bureau so pleased his -friends, amongst whom was the Duchess of Buckingham, that her Grace -ordered a similar piece of furniture, and introduced the wood into -high life, where it quickly became the fashion. - -Of Radcliffe's drunkenness mention is made elsewhere. As an eater, he -was a _gourmand_, not a _gourmet_. When Prince Eugene of Savoy came -over to England on a diplomatic mission, his nephew, the Chevalier de -Soissons, fell into the fashion of the town, roaming it at night in -search of frays--a roaring, swaggering mohock. The sprightly -Chevalier took it into his head that it would be a pleasant thing to -thrash a watchman; so he squared up to one, and threatened to kill -him. Instead of succumbing, the watchman returned his assailant's -blows, and gave him an awful thrashing. The next day, what with the -mauling he had undergone, and what with _delirium tremens_, the merry -roisterer was declared by his physician, Sieur Swartenburgh, to be in -a dying state. Radcliffe was called in, and acting on his almost -invariable rule, told Prince Eugene that the young man must die, -_because_ Swartenburgh had maltreated him. The prophecy was true, if -the criticism was not. The Chevalier died, and was buried amongst the -Ormond family in Westminster Abbey--it being given out to the public -that he had died of small-pox. - -Prince Eugene conceived a strong liking for Radcliffe, and dined with -him at the Doctor's residence. The dinner Radcliffe put before his -guest is expressive of the coarseness both of the times and the man. -On the table the only viands were barons of beef, jiggets of mutton, -legs of pork, and such other ponderous masses of butcher's stuff, -which no one can look at without discomfort, when the first edge has -been taken off the appetite. Prince Eugene expressed himself delighted -with "the food and liquors!" - -George Fordyce, like Radcliffe, was fond of substantial fare. For more -than twenty years he dined daily at Dolly's Chop-house. The dinner he -there consumed was his only meal during the four-and-twenty hours, but -its bulk would have kept a boa-constrictor happy for a twelvemonth. -Four o'clock was the hour at which the repast commenced, when, -punctual to a minute, the Doctor seated himself at a table specially -reserved for him, and adorned with a silver tankard of strong ale, a -bottle of port-wine, and a measure containing a quarter of a pint of -brandy. Before the dinner was first put on, he had one light dish of a -broiled fowl, or a few whitings. Having leisurely devoured this plate, -the doctor took one glass of brandy, and asked for his steak. The -steak was always a prime one, weighing one pound and a half. When the -man of science had eaten the whole of it, he took the rest of his -brandy, then drank his tankard of heady ale, and, lastly, sipped down -his bottle of port. Having brought his intellects, up or down, to the -standard of his pupils, he rose and walked down to his house in Essex -Street to give his six o'clock lecture on Chemistry. - -Dr. Beauford was another of the eighteenth-century physicians who -thought temperance a vice that hadn't even the recommendation of -transient pleasure. A Jacobite of the most enthusiastic sort, he was -not less than Freind a favourite with the aristocracy who countenanced -the Stuart faction. As he was known to be very intimate with Lord -Barrymore, the Doctor was summoned, in 1745, to appear before the -Privy-Council, and answer the questions of the custodians of his -Majesty's safety and honour. - -"You know Lord Barrymore?" said one of the Lords of Council. - -"Intimately--most intimately,"--was the answer. - -"You are continually with him?" - -"We dine together almost daily when his Lordship is in town." - -"What do you talk about?" - -"Eating and drinking." - -"And what else?" - -"Oh, my lord, we never talk of anything except eating and -drinking--drinking and eating." - -A good deal of treasonable sentiment might have been exchanged in -these discussions of eating and drinking. "God send this _crum-well -down_!" was the ordinary toast of the Cavalier during the glorious -Protectorate of Oliver. And long afterwards, English gentlemen of -Jacobite sympathies, drinking "to the King," before they raised the -glass to their lips, put it over the water-bottle, to indicate where -the King was whose prosperity they pledged. - -At the tavern in Finch Lane, where Beauford received the apothecaries -who followed him, he drank freely, but never was known to give a glass -from his bottle to one of his clients. In this respect he resembled -Dr. Gaskin of Plymouth, a physician in fine practice in Devonshire at -the close of the last century, who once said to a young beginner in -his profession, "Young man, when you get a fee, don't give fifteen -shillings of it back to your patient in beef and port-wine." - -Contemporary with Beauford was Dr. Barrowby--wit, scholar, political -partisan, and toper. Barrowby was the hero of an oft-told tale, -recently attributed in the newspapers to Abernethy. When canvassing -for a place on the staff of St. Bartholomew's Hospital, Barrowby -entered the shop of one of the governors, a grocer on Snow-hill, to -solicit his influence and vote. The tradesman, bursting with -importance, and anticipating the pleasure of getting a very low bow -from a gentleman, strutted up the shop, and, with a mixture of -insolent patronage and insulting familiarity, cried, "Well, friend, -and what is your business?" - -Barrowby paused for a minute, cut him right through with the glance of -his eye, and then said, quietly and slowly, "I want a pound of plums." - -Confused and blushing, the grocer did up the plums. Barrowby put them -in his pocket, and went away without asking the fellow for his vote. - -A good political story is told of Barrowby, the incident of which -occurred in 1749, eleven years after his translation of Astruc's -"Treatise" appeared. Lord Trentham (afterwards Lord Gower) and Sir -George Vandeput were contesting the election for Westminster. -Barrowby, a vehement supporter of the latter, was then in attendance -on the notorious Joe Weatherby, master of the "Ben Jonson's Head," in -Russell Street, who lay in a perilous state, emaciated by nervous -fever. Mrs. Weatherby was deeply afflicted at her husband's condition, -because it rendered him unable to vote for Lord Trentham. Towards the -close of the polling days the Doctor, calling one day on his patient, -to his great astonishment found him up, and almost dressed by the -nurse and her assistants. - -"Hey-day! what's the cause of this?" exclaims Barrowby. "Why are you -up without my leave?" - -"Dear Doctor," says Joe, in a broken voice, "I am going to poll." - -"To poll!" roars Barrowby, supposing the man to hold his wife's -political opinions, "you mean going to the devil! Get to bed, man, the -cold air will kill you. If you don't get into bed instantly you'll be -dead before the day is out." - -"I'll do as you bid me, doctor," was the reluctant answer. "But as my -wife was away for the morning, I thought I could get as far as Covent -Garden Church, and vote for Sir George Vandeput." - -"How, Joe, for Sir George?" - -"Oh, yes, sir, I don't go with my wife. I am a Sir George's man." - -Barrowby was struck by a sudden change for the better in the man's -appearance, and said, "Wait a minute, nurse. Don't pull off his -stockings. Let me feel his pulse. Humph--a good firm stroke! You took -the pills I ordered you?" - -"Yes, sir, but they made me feel very ill." - -"Ay, so much the better; that's what I wished. Nurse, how did he -sleep?" - -"Charmingly, sir." - -"Well, Joe," said Barrowby, after a few seconds' consideration, "if -you are bent on going to this election, your mind ought to be set at -rest. It's a fine sunny day, and a ride will very likely do you good. -So, bedad, I'll take you with me in my chariot." - -Delighted with his doctor's urbanity, Weatherby was taken off in the -carriage to Covent Garden, recorded his vote for Sir George Vandeput, -was brought back in the same vehicle, and died _two_ hours afterwards, -amidst the reproaches of his wife and her friends of the Court party. - -Charles the Second was so impressed with the power of the Medical -Faculty in influencing the various intrigues of political parties, -that he averred that Dr. Lower, Nell Gwynn's physician, did more -mischief than a troop of horse. But Barrowby was prevented, by the -intrusion of death, from rendering effectual service to his party. -Called away from a dinner-table, where he was drinking deeply and -laughing much, to see a patient, he got into his carriage, and was -driven off. When the footman opened the door, on arriving at the house -of sickness, he found his master dead. A fit of apoplexy had struck -him down, whilst he was still a young man, and just as he was -ascending to the highest rank of his profession. - -John Sheldon was somewhat addicted to the pleasures of the table. On -one occasion, however, he had to make a journey fasting. The son of a -John Sheldon, an apothecary who carried on business in the Tottenham -Court Road, a few doors from the Black Horse Yard, Sheldon conceived -in early life a strong love for mechanics. At Harrow he was birched -for making a boat and floating it. In after life he had a notable -scheme for taking whales with poisoned harpoons; and, to test its -merit, actually made a voyage to Greenland. He was moreover the first -Englishman to make an ascent in a balloon. He went with Blanchard, and -had taken his place in the car, when the aeronaut, seeing that his -machine was too heavily weighted, begged him to get out. - -"If you are my friend, you will alight. My fame, my all, depends on -success," exclaimed Blanchard. - -"I won't," bluntly answered Sheldon, as the balloon manifested -symptoms of rising. - -In a furious passion, the little air-traveller exclaimed, "Then I -starve you! Point du chicken, by Gar, you shall have no chicken." So -saying, he flung the hamper of provisions out of the car, and, thus -lightened, the balloon went up. - -Abernethy is said to have reproved an over-fed alderman for his -excesses at table in the following manner. The civic footman was -ordered to put a large bowl under the sideboard, and of whatever he -served his master with to throw the same quantity into the bowl as he -put on the gourmand's plate. After the repast was at an end, the sated -feaster was requested to look into the bowl at a nauseous mess of mock -turtle, turbot, roast-beef, turkey, sausages, cakes, wines, ale, -fruits, cheese. - -Sir Richard Jebb showed little favour to the digestion thinking it was -made to be used--not nursed. Habitually more rough and harsh than -Abernethy in his most surly moods, Jebb offended many of his patients. -"That's _my_ way," said he to a noble invalid, astonished at his -rudeness. "Then," answered the sick man, pointing to the door, "I beg -you'll make that your way." - -To all questions about diet Jebb would respond tetchily or carelessly. - -"Pray, Sir Richard, may I eat a muffin?" asked a lady. - -"Yes, madam, 'tis the _best_ thing you can take." - -"Oh, dear! Sir Richard, I am glad of that. The other day you said it -was the worst thing in the world for me." - -"Good, madam, I said so last Tuesday. This isn't a Tuesday--is it?" - -To another lady who asked what she might eat he said contemptuously, -"Boiled turnips." - -"Boiled turnips!" was the answer; "you forget, Sir Richard--I told you -I could not bear boiled turnips." - -"Then, madam," answered Sir Richard, sternly, as if his sense of the -moral fitness of things was offended, "you must have a d----d vitiated -appetite." - -Sir Richard's best set of dietetic directions consisted of the -following negative advice, given to an old gentleman who put the -everlasting question, "What may I eat?" "My directions, sir, are -simple. You must not eat the poker, shovel, or tongs, for they are -hard of digestion; nor the bellows; but anything else you please." - -Even to the King, Sir Richard was plain-spoken. George the Third -lamented to him the restless spirit of his cousin, Dr. John Jebb, the -dissenting minister. "And please your Majesty," was the answer, "if my -cousin were in heaven he would be a reformer." - -Dr. Babington used to tell a story of an Irish gentleman, for whom he -prescribed an emetic, saying, "My dear doctor, it is of no use your -giving me an emetic. I tried it twice in Dublin, and it would not stay -on my stomach either time." Jebb's stomach would have gone on -tranquilly, even when entertaining an emetic. - -Jebb, with all his bluntness, was a mean lover of the atmosphere of -the Court. His income was subject to great fluctuations, as the whims -of his fashionable employers ran for or against him. Sir Edward -Wilmont's receipts sank from L3000 to L300, in consequence of his -having lost two ladies of quality at the Court. Jebb's revenue never -varied so much as this, but the L15,000 (the greatest sum he ever made -in one year) often fell off by thousands. This fact didn't tend to -lessen his mortification at the loss of a great patient. When George -the Third dismissed him, and took Sir George Baker in his place, he -nearly died of chagrin. And when he was recalled to attend the royal -family in the measles, he nearly died of delight. This ruling passion -exhibited itself strongly in death. When he was on his death-bed, the -Queen, by the hand of a German lady, wrote to inquire after his -condition. So elated was the poor man with this act of royal -benignity, that he grasped the letter, and never let go his hold of it -till the breath of life quitted his attenuated body. - -This chapter has been for the most part on the feasting of physicians. -We'll conclude it with a few words on their fasts. In the house of a -Strand grocer there used to be a scientific club, of which the -principal members were--W. Heberden, M.D., J. Turton, M.D., G. Baker, -M.D., Sir John Pringle, Sir William Watson, and Lord C. Cavendish who -officiated as president. Each member paid sixpence per evening for the -use of the grocer's dining-room. The club took in one newspaper, and -the only refreshment allowed to be taken at the place of meeting -was--water. - -The most abstemious of eminent physicians was Sir Hans Sloane, the -president of the Royal Society and of the College of Physicians, and -(in a certain sense) the founder of the British Museum. A love of -money made him a hater of all good things, except money and his -museum. He gave up his winter soirees in Bloomsbury Square, in order -to save his tea and bread and butter. At one of these scientific -entertainments Handel offended the scientific knight deeply by laying -a muffin on one of his books. "To be sure it was a gareless trick," -said the composer, when telling the story, "bud it tid no monsdrous -mischief; pode it but the old poog-vorm treadfully oud of sorts. I -offered my best apologies, but the old miser would not have done with -it. If it had been a biscuit, it would not have mattered; but muffin -and pudder. And I said, _Ah, mine Gotd, that is the rub!--it is the -pudder!_ Now, mine worthy friend, Sir Hans Sloane, you have a nodable -excuse, you may save your doast and pudder, and lay it to that -unfeeling gormandizing German; and den I knows it will add something -to your life by sparing your _burse_." - -The eccentric Dr. Glyn of Cambridge, rarely dined, but used to satisfy -his hunger at chance times by cutting slices off a cold joint (a -constant ornament of the side-table in his study), and eating them -while standing. To eat such a dinner in such an attitude would be to -fare little better than the ascetic physician who used twice a week to -dine off two Abernethy biscuits, consumed as he walked at the pace of -four miles an hour. However wholesome they may be, the hard biscuits, -known as Abernethies (but in the construction of which, by-the-by, -Abernethy was no more concerned than were Wellington and Blucher in -making the boots that bear their names), are not convivial cates, -though one would rather have to consume them than the calomel -sandwiches which Dr. Curry (popularly called Dr. Calomel Curry) used -to give his patients. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -FEES. - - -From the earliest times the Leech (Leighis), or healer, has found, in -the exercise of his art, not only a pleasant sense of being a public -benefactor, but also the means of private advancement. The use the -churchmen made of their medical position throughout Christendom (both -before and after that decree of the council of Tours, A.D. 1163, which -forbade priests and deacons to perform surgical operations in which -cauteries and incisions were employed), is attested by the broad acres -they extracted, for their religious corporations, as much from the -gratitude as from the superstition of their patients. And since the -Reformation, from which period the vocations of the spiritual and the -bodily physician have been almost entirely kept apart, the -practitioners of medicine have had cause to bless the powers of -sickness. A good story is told of Arbuthnot. When he was a young man -(ere he had won the patronage of Queen Anne, and the friendship of -Swift and Pope), he settled at Dorchester, and endeavoured to get -practice in that salubrious town. Nature obviated his good intentions: -he wished to minister to the afflicted, if they were rich enough to -pay for his ministrations, but the place was so healthy that it -contained scarce half-a-dozen sick inhabitants. Arbuthnot determined -to quit a field so ill-adapted for a display of his philanthropy. -"Where are you off to?" cried a friend, who met him riding post -towards London. "To leave your confounded place," was the answer, "for -a man can neither live nor die there." But to arrive at wealth was not -amongst Arbuthnot's faculties; he was unable to use his profession as -a trade; and only a few weeks before his death he wrote, "I am as well -as a man can be who is gasping for breath, and has a house full of men -and women unprovided for." - -Arbuthnot's ill-luck, however, was quite out of the ordinary rule. -Fuller says (1662), "Physic hath promoted many more, and that since -the reign of King Henry VIII. Indeed, before his time, I find a doctor -of physic, father to Reginald, first and last Lord Bray. But this -faculty hath flourished much the three last fifty years; it being true -of physic, what is said of Sylla, 'suos divitiis explevit.' Sir -William Butts, physician to King Henry VIII., Doctor Thomas Wendy, and -Doctor Hatcher, Queen Elizabeth's physician, raised worshipful -families in Norfolk, Cambridge, and Lincolnshire, having borne the -office of Sheriff in this county." Sir William Butts was rewarded for -his professional services by Henry VIII. with the honour of -Knighthood, and he attended that sovereign when the royal confirmation -was given, in 1512, to the charter of the barber-surgeons of London. -Another eminent physician of the same period, who also arrived at the -dignity of knighthood, was John Ayliffe, a sheriff of London, and -merchant of Blackwell-Hall. His epitaph records:-- - - "In surgery brought up in youth, - A knight here lieth dead; - A knight and eke a surgeon, such - As England seld' hath bred. - - "For which so sovereign gift of God, - Wherein he did excell, - King Henry VIII. called him to court, - Who loved him dearly well. - - "King Edward, for his service sake, - Bade him rise up a knight; - A name of praise, and ever since - He Sir John Ayliffe hight." - -This mode of rewarding medical services was not unfrequent in those -days, and long before. Ignorance as to the true position of the barber -in the middle ages has induced the popular and erroneous belief that -the barber-surgeon had in olden times a contemptible social status. -Unquestionably his art has been elevated during late generations to a -dignity it did not possess in feudal life; but it might be argued with -much force, that the reverse has been the case with regard to his -rank. Surgery and medicine were arts that nobles were proud to -practise for honour, and not unfrequently for emolument. The reigns of -Elizabeth and her three predecessors in sovereign power abounded in -medical and surgical amateurs. Amongst the fashionable empirics -Bulleyn mentions Sir Thomas Elliot, Sir Philip Paris, Sir William -Gasgoyne, Lady Taylor and Lady Darrel, and especially that "goodly -hurtlesse Gentleman, Sir Andrew Haveningham, who learned water to kill -a canker of his own mother." Even an Earl of Derby, about this time, -was celebrated for his skill in _chirurgerie_ and _bone-setting_, as -also was the Earl of Herfurth. The Scots nobility were enthusiastic -dabblers in such matters; and we have the evidence of Buchanan and -Lindsay as to James IV. of Scotland, "quod vulnera scientissime -tractaret," to use the former authority's words, and in the language -of the latter, that he was "such a _cunning chirurgeon_, that none in -his realm who used that craft but would take his counsel in all their -proceedings." The only art which fashionable people now-a-days care -much to meddle with is literature. In estimating the difference -between the position of an eminent surgeon now, and that which he -would have occupied in earlier times, we must remember that life and -hereditary knighthood are the highest dignities to which he is now -permitted to aspire; although since this honour was first accorded to -him it has so fallen in public estimation, that it has almost ceased -to be an honour at all. It can scarcely be questioned that if Sir -Benjamin Brodie were to be elevated to the rank of a Baron of the -realm, he would still not occupy a better position, in regard to the -rest of society, than that which Sir William Butts and Sir John -Ayliffe did after they were knighted. A fact that definitely fixes the -high esteem in which Edward III. held his medical officers, is one of -his grants--"Quod Willielmus Holme Sirurgicus Regis pro vita sua -possit, fugare, capere, et asportare omnimodas feras in quibuscunque -forestis, chaccis parcis et warrennis regis." Indeed, at a time when -the highest dignitaries of the Church, the proudest bishops and the -wealthiest abbots, practised as physicians, it followed, as a matter -of course, that everything pertaining to their profession was -respected. - -From remote antiquity the fee of the healer has been regarded as a -voluntary offering for services gratuitously rendered. The pretender -to the art always stuck out for a price, and in some form or other -made the demand which was imprinted on the pillboxes of Lilly's -successor, John Case, - - "Here's fourteen pills for thirteen pence, - Enough in any man's own con-sci-ence." - -But the true physician always left his reward to be measured by the -gratitude and justice of the benefited. He extorted nothing, but -freely received that which was freely given. Dr. Doran, with his -characteristic erudition, says, "Now there is a religious reason why -fees are supposed not to be taken by physicians. Amongst the Christian -martyrs are reckoned the two eastern brothers, Damian and Cosmas. They -practised as physicians in Cilicia, and they were the first mortal -practitioners who refused to take recompense for their work. Hence -they were called Anargyri, or 'without money.' All physicians are -pleasantly supposed to follow this example. They never take fees, like -Damian and Cosmas; but they meekly receive what they know will be -given out of Christian humility, and with a certain or uncertain -reluctance, which is the nearest approach that can be made in these -times to the two brothers who were in partnership at Egea in Cilicia." - -But, with all due respect to our learned writer, there is a much -better reason for the phenomenon. Self-interest, and not a Christian -ambition to resemble the charitable Cilician brothers, was the cause -of physicians preferring a system of gratuities to a system of legal -rights. They could scarcely have put in _a claim_ without defining the -_amount claimed_; and they soon discovered that a rich patient, left -to his generosity, folly, and impotent anxiety to propitiate the -mysterious functionary who presided over his life, would, in a great -majority of cases, give ten, or even a hundred times as much as they -in the wildest audacity of avarice would ever dare to ask for. - -Seleucus, for having his son Antiochus restored to health, was fool -enough to give sixty thousand crowns to Erasistratus: and for their -attendance on the Emperor Augustus, and his two next successors, no -less than four physicians received annual pensions of two hundred and -fifty thousand sesterces apiece. Indeed, there is no saying what a -sick man will not give his doctor. The "cacoethes donandi" is a -manifestation of enfeebled powers which a high-minded physician is -often called upon to resist, and an unprincipled one often basely -turns to his advantage. Alluding to this feature of the sick, a -deservedly successful and honourable practitioner, using the language -of one of our Oriental pro-consuls, said with a laugh to the writer of -these pages, "I wonder at my moderation." - -But directly health approaches, this desirable frame of mind -disappears. When the devil was sick he was a very different character -from what he was on getting well. 'Tis so with ordinary patients, not -less than satanic ones. The man who, when he is in his agonies, gives -his medical attendant double fees three times a day (and vows, please -God he recover, to make his fortune by trumpeting his praises to the -world), on becoming convalescent, grows irritable, suspicious, and -distant,--and by the time he can resume his customary occupations, -looks on his dear benefactor and saviour as a designing rascal, bent -on plundering him of his worldly possessions. Euricus Cordus, who died -in 1535, seems to have taken the worst possible time for getting his -payment; but it cannot be regretted that he did so, as his experiences -inspired him to write the following excellent epigram:-- - - "Tres medicus facies habet; unam quando rogatur, - Angelicam; mox est, cum juvat, ipse Deus. - Post ubi curato, poscit sua proemia, morbo, - Horridus apparet, terribilisque Sathan." - - "Three faces wears the doctor: when first sought, - An angel's--and a God's the cure half wrought: - But when, that cure complete, he seeks his fee, - The Devil looks then less terrible than he." - -Illustrative of the same truth is a story told of Bouvart. On entering -one morning the chamber of a French Marquis, whom he had attended -through a very dangerous illness, he was accosted by his noble patient -in the following terms:-- - -"Good day to you, Mr. Bouvart; I feel quite in spirits, and think my -fever has left me." - -"I am sure it has," replied Bouvart, dryly. "The very first expression -you used convinced me of it." - -"Pray, explain yourself." - -"Nothing is easier. In the first days of your illness, when your life -was in danger, I was your _dearest friend_; as you began to get -better, I was your _good Bouvart_; and now I am Mr. Bouvart: depend -upon it you are quite recovered." - -In fact, the affection of a patient for his physician is very like the -love a candidate for a borough has for an individual elector--he is -very grateful to him, till he has got all he wants out of him. The -medical practitioner is unwise not to recognize this fact. Common -prudence enjoins him to act as much as possible on the maxim of -"accipe dum dolet"--"take your fee while your patient is in pain." - -But though physicians have always held themselves open to take as much -as they can get, their ordinary remuneration has been fixed in divers -times by custom, according to the locality of their practice, the rank -of their patients, the nature of the particular services rendered, and -such other circumstances. In China the rule is "no cure, no pay," save -at the Imperial court, where the physicians have salaries that are cut -off during the continuance of royal indisposition. For their sakes it -is to be hoped that the Emperor is a temperate man, and does not -follow the example of George the Fourth, who used to drink Maraschino -between midnight and four o'clock in the morning; and then, when he -awoke with a furred tongue, from disturbed sleep, used to put himself -under the hands of his doctors. Formerly the medical officers of the -English monarch were paid by salary, though doubtless they were -offered, and were not too proud to accept, fees as well. Coursus de -Gungeland, Edward the Third's apothecary, had a pension of sixpence -a-day--a considerable sum at that time; and Ricardus Wye, the surgeon -of the same king, had twelve-pence a day, and eight marks per annum. -"Duodecim denarios per diem, et octo marcas per annum, pro vadiis suis -pro vita." In the royal courts of Wales, also, the fees of surgeons -and physicians were fixed by law--a surgeon receiving, as payment for -curing a slight wound, only the blood-stained garments of the injured -person; but for healing a dangerous wound he had the bloody apparel, -his board and lodging during the time his services were required, and -one hundred and eighty pence. - -At a very early period in England a doctor looked for his palm to be -crossed with gold, if his patient happened to be a man of condition. -In Henry VIII.'s reign a Cambridge physician was presented by the Earl -of Cumberland with a fee of L1--but this was at least double what a -commoner would then have paid. Stow complains that while in Holland -half-a-crown was looked upon as a proper remuneration for a single -visit paid by a skilled physician, the medical practitioners of London -scorned "to touch any metal but gold." - -It is no matter of uncertainty what the physician's ordinary fee was -at the close of the sixteenth and the commencement of the seventeenth -century. It was ten shillings, as is certified by the following -extract from "Physick lies a-bleeding: the Apothecary turned -Doctor"--published in 1697:-- - -"_Gallipot_--Good sir, be not so unreasonably passionate and I'll tell -you. Sir, the Pearl Julep will be 6_s._ 8_d._, Pearls being dear since -our clipt money was bought. The Specific Bolus, 4_s._ 6_d._, I never -reckon less; my master in Leadenhall Street never set down less, be it -what it would. The Antihysterick Application 3_s._ 6_d._ (a common one -is but 2_s._ 6_d._), and the Anodyne Draught 3_s._ 4_d._--that's all, -sir; a small matter and please you, sir, for your lady. My fee is what -you please, sir. All the bill is _but_ 18_s._ - -"_Trueman_--Faith, then, d'ye make a _but_ at it? I do suppose, to be -very genteel, I must give you a crown. - -"_Gallipot_--If your worship please; I take it to be a fair and an -honest bill. - -"_Trueman_--Do you indeed? But I wish you had called a doctor, perhaps -he would have advised her to have forebore taking anything, as yet at -least, so I had saved 13_s._ in my pocket." - -"Physick lies a-bleeding" was written during the great Dispensarian -War, which is touched upon in another part of these pages; and its -object was to hold up physicians as models of learning and probity, -and to expose the extortionate practices of the apothecaries. It must -therefore be read with caution, and with due allowance for the license -of satire, and the violence of a party statement. But the statement -that 10_s._ was the _customary_ fee is clearly one that may be -accepted as truthful. Indeed, the unknown and needy doctors were glad -to accept less. The author of "The Dispensarians are the Patriots of -Britain," published in 1708, represents the humbler physicians being -nothing better than the slaves of the opulent apothecaries, accepting -half their right fee, and taking instead 25 or 50 per cent. of the -amount paid for drugs to the apothecary. "They (the powerful -traders)," says the writer, "offered the Physicians 5_s._ and 10_s._ -in the pound, to excite their industry to prescribe the larger -abundance to all the disorders." - -But physicians daily received more than their ten shillings at a time. -In confirmation of this, a good anecdote may be related of Sir -Theodore Mayerne. Sir Theodore Mayerne, a native of Geneva, was -physician to Henry IV. and Louis XIII. of France, and subsequently to -James I., Charles I., and Charles II. of England. As a physician, who -had the honour of attending many crowned heads, he ranks above Caius, -who was physician to Edward VI., Mary, and Elizabeth--Ambrose Pare, -the inventor of ligatures for severed arteries, who was physician and -surgeon to Henry II., Francis II., Charles IX., and Henry III. of -France--and Sir Henry Halford, who attended successively George III., -George IV., William IV., and Victoria. It is told of Sir Theodore, -that when a friend, after consulting him, foolishly put two broad gold -pieces (six-and-thirty shillings each) on the table, he quietly -pocketed them. The patient, who, as a friend, expected to have his fee -refused, and therefore (deeming it well to indulge in the magnificence -of generosity when it would cost him nothing) had absurdly exhibited -so large a sum, did not at all relish the sight of its being netted. -His countenance, if not his tongue, made his mortification manifest. -"Sir," said Sir Theodore, "I made my will this morning; and if it -should appear that I refused a fee, I might be deemed _non compos_." - -The "Levamen Infirmi," published in 1700, shows that a century had -not, at that date, made much difference in the scale of remuneration -accorded to surgeons and physicians. "To a graduate in physick," this -authority states, "his due is about ten shillings, though he commonly -expects or demands twenty. Those that are only licensed physicians, -their due is no more than six shillings and eight-pence, though they -commonly demand ten shillings. A surgeon's fee is twelve-pence a mile, -be his journey far or near; ten groats to set a bone broke, or out of -joint; and for letting blood one shilling; the cutting off or -amputation of any limb is five pounds, but there is no settled price -for the cure." These charges are much the same as those made at the -present day by country surgeons to their less wealthy patients, with -the exception of a fee for setting a bone, or reducing a dislocation, -which is absurdly out of proportion to the rest of the sums mentioned. - -Mr William Wadd, in his very interesting "Memorabilia," states, that -the physicians who attended Queen Caroline had five hundred guineas, -and the surgeons three hundred guineas each; and that Dr. Willis was -rewarded for his successful attendance on his Majesty King George -III., by L1500 per annum for twenty years, and L650 per annum to his -son for life. The other physicians, however, had only thirty guineas -each visit to Windsor, and ten guineas each visit to Kew. - -These large fees put us in mind of one that ought to have been paid to -Dr. King for his attendance on Charles the Second. Evelyn -relates--"1685, Feb. 4, I went to London, hearing his Majesty had ben, -the Monday before (2 Feb.), surprised in his bed-chamber with an -apoplectic fit; so that if, by God's providence, Dr King (that -excellent chirurgeon as well as physitian) had not been actually -present, to let his bloud (having his lancet in his pocket), his -Majesty had certainly died that moment, which might have ben of -direful consequence, there being nobody else present with the king -save this doctor and one more, as I am assured. It was a mark of the -extraordinary dexterity, resolution, and presence of mind in the Dr -to let him bloud in the very paroxysm, without staying the coming of -other physicians, which regularly should have ben done, and for want -of which he must have a regular pardon, as they tell me." For this -promptitude and courage the Privy-Council ordered L1000 to be given to -Dr. King--but he never obtained the money. - -In a more humourous, but not less agreeable manner, Dr. Hunter (John -Hunter's brother), was disappointed of payment for his professional -services. On a certain occasion he was suffering under such severe -indisposition that he was compelled to keep his bed, when a lady -called and implored to be admitted to his chamber for the benefit of -his advice. After considerable resistance on the part of the servants, -she obtained her request; and the sick physician, sitting up in his -bed, attended to her case, and prescribed for it. "What is your fee, -sir?" the lady asked when the work was done. The doctor, with the -prudent delicacy of his order, informed his patient that it was a rule -with him never to fix his fee; and, on repeated entreaty that he would -depart from his custom, refused to do so. On this the lady rose from -her seat, and courteously thanking the doctor, left him--not a little -annoyed at the result of his squeamishness or artifice. - -This puts us in mind of the manner in which an eminent surgeon not -long since was defrauded of a fee, under circumstances that must rouse -the indignation of every honourable man against the delinquent. Mr. ----- received, in his consulting room, a gentleman of military and -prepossessing exterior, who, after detailing the history of his -sufferings, implored the professional man he addressed to perform for -him a certain difficult and important operation. The surgeon -consented, and on being asked what remuneration he would require, said -that his fee was a hundred guineas. - -"Sir," replied the visitor with some embarrassment, "I am very sorry -to hear you say so. I feel sure my case without you will terminate -fatally; but I am a poor half-pay officer, in pecuniary difficulties, -and I could not, even if it were to save my soul, raise half the sum -you mention." - -"My dear sir," responded the surgeon frankly, and with the generosity -which is more frequently found amongst medical practitioners than any -other class of men, "don't then disturb yourself. I cannot take a less -fee than I have stated, for my character demands that I should not -have two charges, but I am at liberty to remit my fee altogether. -Allow me, then, the very great pleasure of attending a retired officer -of the British army gratuitously." - -This kindly offer was accepted. Mr. ---- not only performed the -operation, but visited his patient daily for more than three weeks -without ever accepting a guinea--and three months after he had -restored the sick man to health, discovered that, instead of being in -necessitous circumstances, he was a magistrate and deputy-lieutenant -for his county, and owner of a fine landed estate. - -"And, by ----!" exclaimed the fine-hearted surgeon--when he narrated -this disgraceful affair, "I'll act exactly in the same way to the next -poor man who gives me his _word of honour_ that he is not rich enough -to pay me." - -The success of Sir Astley Cooper was beyond that of any medical -practitioner of modern times; but it came very gradually. His earnings -for the first nine years of his professional career progressed -thus:--In the first year he netted five guineas; in the second, -twenty-six pounds; in the third, sixty-four pounds; in the fourth, -ninety-six pounds; in the fifth, a hundred pounds; in the sixth, two -hundred pounds; in the seventh, four hundred pounds; in the eighth, -six hundred and ten pounds; and in the ninth, the year in which he -secured his hospital appointment, eleven hundred pounds. But the time -came when the patients stood for hours in his ante-rooms waiting to -have an interview with the great surgeon, and after all, their -patients were dismissed without being admitted to the consulting-room. -Sir Astley's man, Charles, with all the dignity that became so eminent -a man's servant, used to say to these disappointed applicants, in a -tone of magnificent patronage, when they reappeared the next morning -after their effectless visit, "I am not at all sure that _we_ shall be -able to attend to-day to you, gentlemen, for _we_ are excessively -busy, and our list is perfectly full for the day; but if you'll wait I -will see what can be done for you!" - -The highest amount that Sir Astley received in any one year was -L21,000. This splendid income was an exceptional one. For many years, -however, he achieved more than L15,000 per annum. As long as he lived -in the City after becoming celebrated he made an enormous, but -fluctuating, revenue, the state of the money-market having an almost -laughable effect on the size of the fees paid him. The capitalists -who visited the surgeon in Broad Street, in three cases out of four, -paid in cheques, and felt it beneath their dignity to put pen to paper -for a smaller sum than five guineas. After Sir Astley moved to the -West End he had a more numerous and at the same time more aristocratic -practice; but his receipts were never so much as they were when he -dwelt within the Lord Mayor's jurisdiction. His more distinguished -patients invariably paid their guineas in cash, and many of them did -not consider it inconsistent with patrician position to give single -fees. The citizens were the fellows to pay. Mr. William Coles, of -Mincing Lane, for a long period paid Sir Astley L600 a year, the -visits of the latter being principally made to Mr. Cole's seat near -Croydon. Another "City man," who consulted the surgeon in Broad -Street, and departed without putting down any honorarium whatever, -sent a cheque for L63 10_s._, with the following characteristic -note:-- - -"DEAR SIR--When I had first the pleasure of seeing you, you requested, -as a favour, that I would consider your visit on the occasion as a -friend. I now, sir, must request you will return the compliment by -accepting the enclosed draft as an act of friendship. It is the profit -on L2000 of the ensuing loan, out of a small sum Sir F. Baring had -given, of appropriating for your chance." - -The largest fee Sir Astley Cooper ever received was paid him by a West -Indian millionaire named Hyatt. This gentleman having occasion to -undergo a painful and perilous operation, was attended by Drs. Lettsom -and Nelson as physicians, and Sir Astley as chirurgeon. The wealthy -patient, his treatment having resulted most successfully, was so -delighted that he fee'd his physicians with 300 guineas each. "But -you, sir," cried the grateful old man, sitting up in his bed, and -speaking to his surgeon, "shall have something better. There, -sir--take _that_." The _that_ was the convalescent's night-cap, which -he flung at the dexterous operator. "Sir," replied Sir Astley, picking -up the cap, "I'll pocket the affront." It was well he did so, for on -reaching home he found in the cap a draft for 1000 guineas. This story -has been told in various ways, but all its tellers agree as to the -amount of the prize. - -Catherine, the Empress of Russia, was even more munificent than the -West Indian planter. When Dr. Dimsdale, for many years a Hertford -physician, and subsequently the parliamentary representative of that -borough, went over to Russia and inoculated the Empress and her son, -in the year 1768, he was rewarded with a fee of L12,000, a pension for -life of L500 per annum, and the rank of Baron of the Empire. But if -Catherine paid thus handsomely for increased security of life, a -modern emperor of Austria put down a yet more royal fee for his -death-warrant. When on his death-bed the Emperor Joseph asked Quarin -his opinion of his case, the physician told the monarch that he could -not possibly live forty-eight hours. In acknowledgment of this frank -declaration of the truth, the Emperor created Quarin a Baron, and gave -him a pension of more than L2000 per annum to support the rank with. - -A goodly collection might be made of eccentric fees given to the -practitioners of the healing art. William Butler, who, in his -moroseness of manner, was the prototype of Abernethy, found (_vide_ -Fuller's "English Worthies") more pleasure in "presents than money; -loved what was pretty rather than what was costly; and preferred -rarities to riches." The number of physicians is large who have won -the hands of heiresses in the discharge of their professional -avocations. But of them we purpose to speak at length hereafter. -Joshua Ward, the Thames Street drysalter, who made a fortune by his -"Drop and Pill," - - "Of late, without the least pretence to skill, - Ward's grown a famed physician by a pill," - -was so successfully puffed by Lord Chief Baron Reynolds and General -Churchill, that he was called in to prescribe for the king. The royal -malady disappeared in consequence, or in spite, of the treatment; and -Ward was rewarded with a solemn vote of the House of Commons, -protecting him from the interdictions of the College of Physicians; -and, as an additional fee, he asked for, and obtained, the privilege -of driving his carriage through St. James's Park. - -The pertinacity with which the members of the medical profession cling -to the shilling of "the guinea" is amusing. When Erskine used to order -"The Devil's Own" to _charge_, he would cry out "Six-and-eightpence!" -instead of the ordinary word of command. Had his Lordship been colonel -of a volunteer corps of physicians, he would have roused them to an -onward march by "A guinea!" Sometimes patients object to pay the extra -shilling over the sovereign, not less than their medical advisers -insist on having it. "We surgeons do things by guineas," we recollect -a veteran hospital surgeon saying to a visitor who had put down the -largest current gold piece of our present coinage. The patient (an -irritable old gentleman) made it a question of principle; he hated -humbug--he regarded "that shilling" as sheer humbug, and he would not -pay it. A contest ensued, which terminated in the eccentric patient -paying, not the shilling, but an additional sovereign. And to this day -he is a frequent visitor of our surgical ally, and is well content to -pay his two sovereigns, though he would die rather than countenance "a -sham" by putting down "a guinea." - -But of all the stories told of surgeons who have grown fat at the -expense of the public, the best is the following one, for which Mr. -Alexander Kellet, who died at his lodgings in Bath, in the year 1788 -is our authority. A certain French surgeon residing in Georgia was -taken prisoner by some Indians, who having acquired from the French -the art of larding their provisions, determined to lard this -particular Frenchman, and then roast him alive. During the culinary -process, when the man was half larded, the operators were surprised by -the enemy, and their victim, making his escape, lived many days in the -woods on the bacon he had in his skin. - -If full reliance may be placed on the following humorous verses, it is -not unknown for a physician to be paid in commodities, without the -intervention of the circulating medium, or the receipt of such -creature comforts as Johnson's friendly apothecary was wont to accept -in lieu of cash:-- - - "An adept in the sister arts, - Painter, poet, and musician, - Employ'd a doctor of all parts, - Druggist, surgeon, and physician. - - "The artist with M.D. agrees, - If he'd attend him when he grew sick, - Fully to liquidate his fees - With painting, poetry, and music. - - "The druggist, surgeon, and physician, - So often physick'd, bled, prescribed, - That painter, poet, and musician - (Alas! poor artist!) sunk--and died. - - "But ere death's stroke, 'Doctor,' cried he, - 'In honour of your skill and charge, - Accept from my professions three-- - A _hatchment_, _epitaph_, and _dirge_.'" - -A double fee for good news has long been a rule in the profession. A -father just presented with an heir, or a lucky fellow just made one, -is expected to bleed freely for the benefit of the Faculty. - - "Madam scolded one day so long, - She sudden lost all use of tongue! - The doctor came--with hum and haw, - Pronounc'd th' affection a lock'd jaw! - - 'What hopes, good sir?'--'Small, small, I see!' - The husband slips a _double fee_; - 'What, no hopes, doctor?'--'None, I fear;' - Another fee for issue clear. - - "Madam deceased--'Pray, sir, don't grieve!' - 'My friends, one comfort I receive-- - A _lock'd jaw_ was the only case - From which my wife could die--in peace.'" - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -PEDAGOGUES TURNED DOCTORS. - - -In the church of St. Mary Magdalen, Taunton, is a monumental stone -engraved with the following inscription:-- - - "Qui medicus doctus, prudentis nomine clarus, - Eloquii splendor, Pieridumque decus, - Virtutis cultor, pietatis vixit amicus; - Hoc jacet in tumulo, spiritus alta tenet." - -It is in memory of John Bond, M.A., the learned commentator on Horace -and Persius. Educated at Winchester school, and then at New College, -Oxford, he was elected master of the Taunton Grammar-school in the -year 1579. For many years he presided over that seminary with great -efficiency, and sent out into the world several eminent scholars. On -arriving, however, at the middle age of life, he relinquished the -mastership of the school, and turned his attention to the practice of -medicine. His reputation and success as a physician were great--the -worthy people of Taunton honouring him as "a wise man." He died August -3, 1612. - -More than a century later than John Bond, schoolmaster and physician, -appeared a greater celebrity in the person of James Jurin, who, from -the position of a provincial pedagogue, raised himself to be regarded -as first of the London physicians, and conspicuous amongst the -philosophers of Europe. Jurin was born in 1684, and received his early -education at Christ's Hospital--better known to the public as the -Bluecoat school. After graduating in arts at Cambridge, he obtained -the mastership of the grammar-school of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, January, -1710. In the following year he acquired the high academic distinction -of a fellowship on the foundation of Trinity College; and the year -after (1712) he published through the University press, his edition of -Varenius's Geography, dedicated to Bentley. In 1718 and 1719 he -contributed to the Philosophical Transactions the essays which -involved him in controversies with Keill and Senac, and were, in the -year 1732, reprinted in a collected form, under the title of -"Physico-Mathematical Dissertations." Another of his important -contributions to science was "An Essay on Distinct and Indistinct -Vision," added to Smith's "System of Optics." Voltaire was not without -good reason for styling him, in the _Journal de Savans_, "the famous -Jurin." - -Besides working zealously in his school, Jurin delivered lectures at -Newcastle, on Experimental Philosophy. He worked very hard, his -immediate object being to get and save money. As soon as he had laid -by a clear thousand pounds, he left Newcastle, and returning to his -University devoted himself to the study of medicine. From that time -his course was a prosperous one. Having taken his M.D. degree, he -settled in London, became a Fellow of the College of Physicians, a -Fellow of the Royal Society (to which distinguished body he became -secretary on the resignation of Dr. Halley in 1721), and a Physician -of Guy's Hospital, as well as Governor of St. Thomas's. The friend of -Sir Isaac Newton and Bentley did not lack patients. The -consulting-rooms and ante-chambers of his house in Lincoln's Inn -Fields received many visitors; so that he acquired considerable -wealth, and had an estate and an imposing establishment at Clapton. -Nichols speaks of him in one of his volumes as "James Jurin, M.D., -sometime of Clapton in Hackney." It was, however, at his town -residence that he died, March 22, 1750, of what the _Gentleman's -Magazine_ calls "a dead palsy," leaving by his will a considerable -legacy to Christ's Hospital. - -One might make a long list of Doctors Pedagogic, including poor Oliver -Goldsmith, who used to wince and redden with shame and anger when the -cant phrase, "It's all a holiday at Peckham," saluted his ears. -Between Bond and Jurin, however, there were two tutors turned -physicians, who may not be passed over without especial attention. -Only a little prior to Jurin they knew many of his friends, and -doubtless met him often in consultation. They were both authors--one -of rare wit, and the other (as he himself boasted) of no wit; and they -hated each other, as literary men know how to hate. In every respect, -even down to the quarters of town which they inhabited, they were -opposed to each other. One was a brilliant talker and frequented St. -James's; the other was a pompous drone, and haunted the Mansion-house: -a Jacobite the one, a Whig the other. The reader sees that these two -worthies can be none other than Arbuthnot and Blackmore. - -A wily, courtly, mirth-loving Scotchman, Arbuthnot had all the best -qualities that are to be ordinarily found in a child of North Britain. -Everybody knew him--nearly every one liked him. His satire, that was -only rarely tinctured with bitterness--his tongue, powerful to mimic, -flatter, or persuade--his polished manners and cordial bearing, would -alone have made him a favourite with the ladies, had he not been what -he was--one of the handsomest men about town. (Of course, in -appearance he did not approach that magnificent gentleman, Beau -Fielding). In conversation he was frank without being noisy; and there -hung about him--tavern-haunting wit though he was--an air of -simplicity, tempering his reckless fun, that was very pleasant and -very winning. Pope, Parnell, Garth, Gay, were society much more to his -taste than the stately big-wigs of Warwick Hall. And next to drinking -wine with such men, the good-humoured doctor enjoyed flirting with the -maids of honour, and taking part in a political intrigue. No wonder -that Swift valued him as a priceless treasure--"loved him," as he -wrote to Stella, "ten times as much" as jolly, tippling Dr. Freind. - -It was arm in arm with him that the Dean used to peer about St. -James's, jesting, snarling, laughing, causing dowagers to smile at -"that dear Mr. Dean," and young girls, up for their first year at -Court--green and unsophisticated--to blush with annoyance at his -coarse, shameless badinage; bowing to this great man (from whom he -hoped for countenance), staring insolently at that one (from whom he -was sure of nothing but enmity), quoting Martial to a mitred courtier -(because the prelate couldn't understand Latin), whispering French to -a youthful diplomatist (because the boy knew no tongue but English), -preparing impromptu compliments for "royal Anna" (as our dear worthy -ancestors used to call Mrs. Masham's intimate friend), or with his -glorious blue eyes sending a glance, eloquent of admiration and -homage, at a fair and influential supporter; cringing, fawning, -flattering--in fact, angling for the bishopric he was never to get. -With Arbuthnot it was that Swift tried the dinners and wine of every -hotel round Covent Garden, or in the city. From Arbuthnot it was that -the Dean, during his periods of official exile, received his best and -surest information of the battles of the cliques, the scandals of the -Court, the contentions of parties, the prospects of ministers, and -(most important subject by far) the health of the Queen. - -Some of the most pleasant pictures in the "Journal to Stella" are -those in which the kindly presence of the Doctor softens the asperity -of the Dean. Most readers of these pages have accompanied the two -"brothers" in their excursion to the course the day before the -horse-races, when they overtook Miss Forrester, the pretty maid of -honour, and made her accompany them. The lady was taking the air on -her palfrey, habited in the piquant riding-dress of the period--the -natty three-cornered cocked hat, ornamented with gold lace, and -perched on the top of a long flowing periwig, powdered to the -whiteness of snow, the long coat cut like a coachman's, the waistcoat -flapped and faced, and lastly the habit-skirt. One sees the belle at -this time smiling archly, with all the power of beauty, and shaking -the handle of her whip at the divine and the physician. So they took -her with them (and they weren't wrong in doing so). Then the old Queen -came by, gouty and hypochondriac. Off went the hats of the two -courtiers in the presence of her Majesty. The beauty, too, raised her -little three-cornered cock-boat (rising on her stirrup as she did so), -and returned it to the summit of the flowing wig, with a knowing -side-glance, as much as to say, "See, sirs, we women can do that sort -of thing quite as gracefully as the lords of the creation." (Oh, Mr. -Spectator, how could you find it in you to quarrel with that costume?) -Swift was charmed, and described enough of the scene to make that -foolish Stella frantically jealous; and then, prudent, canny -love-tyrant that he was, added with a sneer--"I did not like her, -though she be a toast, and was dressed like a man." And you may be -sure that poor little Stella was both fool enough and wise enough both -to believe and disbelieve this assurance at the same time. - -Arbuthnot owed his success in no degree whatever to the influence of -his family, and only in a very slight degree to his professional -knowledge. His father was only a poor episcopalian clergyman, and his -M.D. degree was only an Aberdeen one. He rose by his wit, rare -conversational powers, and fascinating address, achieving eminence at -Court because he was the greatest master of fence with the weapon that -is most used in courts--the tongue. He failed to get a living amongst -rustic boors, who appreciated no effort of the human voice but a -fox-hunter's whoop. Dorchester, where as a young man he endeavoured -to establish himself in practice, refused to give him an income, but -it doubtless maintained more than one dull empiric in opulence. In -London he met with a different reception. For a time he was very poor, -and resorted to the most hateful of all occupations--the personal -instruction of the ignorant. How long he was so engaged is uncertain. -Something of Goldsmith's "Peckham" sensibility made him not care in -after-life to talk of the days when he was a teacher of -mathematics--starving on pupils until he should be permitted to grow -fat on patients. - -The patients were not long in coming. The literary reputation he -obtained by his "Examination of Dr Woodward's Account of the Deluge," -elicited by Woodward's "Essay towards a Natural History of the Earth," -instead of frightening the sick from him, brought them to him. -Accidentally called in to Prince George of Denmark, when his Royal -Highness was suddenly taken ill at Epsom, he made himself so agreeable -that the casual introduction became a permanent connection. In 1709, -on the illness of Hannes (a physician who also understood the art of -rising in spite of obstacles) he was appointed physician-in-ordinary -to Queen Anne. - -To secure the good graces of his royal patient, and rise yet higher in -them, he adopted a tone of affection for her as a person, as well as -loyal devotion to her as a queen. The fall of Radcliffe warned him -that he had need of caution in dealing with the weak-minded, -querulous, crotchety, self-indulgent invalid. - -"What's the time?" asked the Queen of him one day. - -"Whatever it may please your Majesty," answered the court-physician, -with a graceful bow. - -After all, the best testimony of a man's merit is the opinion held of -him by those of his acquaintance who know him intimately--at home as -well as abroad. By all who came within the circle of Arbuthnot's -privacy he was respected as much as loved. And his associates were no -common men. Pope, addressing him as "the friend of his life," says:-- - - "Why did I write? what sin, to me unknown, - Dipp'd me in ink?--my parents' or my own? - As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame, - I lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came. - I left no calling for this idle trade, - No duty broke, no father disobey'd. - The muse but served to ease some friend, not wife, - To help me through this long disease, my life, - To second, Arbuthnot! thy art and care, - And teach the being you preserved to bear." - -Pope's concluding wish-- - - "Oh, friend! may each domestic bliss be thine." - -was ineffectual. Arbuthnot's health failed under his habits of -intemperance, and during his latter years he was a terrible sufferer -from asthma and melancholy. After the Queen's death he went for the -benefit of his health on the continent, and visited his brother, a -Paris banker. Returning to London he took a house in Dover Street, -from which he moved to the residence in Cork Street, Burlington -Gardens, where he died Feb. 27, 1734-5. He died in straitened -circumstances; for unlike his fellow-countryman, Colonel Chartres, he -had not the faculty of saving. But with failing energies, an -excruciated frame, and the heart-burden of a family unprovided for, he -maintained a philosophic equanimity, and displayed his old unvarying -consideration for all who surrounded him. - -Arbuthnot's epitaph on Colonel Chartres (almost as well known as -Martinus Scriblerus) is a good specimen of his humour:-- - - "Here continueth to rot, - The Body of Francis Chartres. - Who, with an indefatigable constancy, - And inimitable Uniformity of life, - Persisted, - In spite of Age and Infirmities, - In the practice of every Human Vice, - Excepting Prodigality and Hypocrisy: - His insatiable Avarice exempting him from the First, - His matchless impudence from the Second. - Nor was he more singular in the Undeviating Pravity - Of his manners, than successful - In accumulating Wealth: - For, without Trade or Profession, - Without trust of public money, - And without bribe-worthy service, - He acquired, or more properly created, - A ministerial estate. - He was the only person of this time - Who could cheat without the Mask of Honesty, - Retain his primaeval meanness when possessed of - Ten thousand a-year: - And having duly deserved the Gibbet for what he did, - Was at last condemned to it for what he could not do. - Oh, indignant reader! - Think not his life useless to mankind: - Providence connived at his execrable designs, - To give to After-age a conspicuous - Proof and Example - Of how small estimation is exorbitant Wealth - In the sight of God, by His bestowing it on - The most unworthy of Mortals." - -The history of the worthy person whose reputation is here embalmed is -interesting. Beginning life as an ensign in the army, he was drummed -out of his regiment, banished Brussels, and ignominiously expelled -from Ghent, for cheating. As a miser he saved, and as a usurer he -increased, the money which he won as a blackleg and card-sharper. -Twice was he condemned to death for heinous offences, but contrived to -purchase pardon; and, after all, he was fortunate enough to die in his -own bed, in his native country, Scotland, A. D. 1731, aged sixty-two. -At his funeral the indignant mob, feeling that justice had not been -done to the dear departed, raised a riot, insulted the mourners, and, -when the coffin was lowered into the grave, threw upon it a -magnificent collection of dead dogs! - -In a similar and scarcely less magnificent vein of humour, Arbuthnot -wrote another epitaph--on a greyhound:-- - - "To the memory of - Signor Fido, - An Italian of Good Extraction: - Who came into England, - Not to bite us, like most of his countrymen, - But to gain an honest livelihood: - He hunted not after fame, - Yet acquired it: - Regardless of the Praise of his Friends, - But most sensible of their love: - Tho' he liv'd amongst the great, - He neither learn'd nor flatter'd any vice: - He was no Bigot, - Tho' he doubted of none of the thirty-nine articles; - And if to follow Nature, - And to respect the laws of Society, - Be Philosophy, - He was a perfect Phi losopher, - A faithful Friend, - An agreeable Companion, - A loving Husband, - Distinguished by a numerous Offspring, - All of which he lived to see take good _courses_; - In his old age he retired - To the House of a Clergyman in the Country, - Where he finished his earthly Race, - And died an Honour and an Example to the whole Species. - Reader, - This stone is guiltless of Flattery, - For he to whom it is inscribed - Was not a man, - But a - Greyhound." - -In the concluding lines there is a touch of Sterne. They also call to -mind Byron's epitaph on his dog. - -These epitaphs put the writer in mind of the literary ambition of the -eminent Dr. James Gregory of Edinburgh. His great aim was to be _the_ -Inscriptor (as he styled it) of his age. No distinguished person died -without the doctor promptly striking off his characteristics in a -mural legend. For every statue erected to heroes, real or sham, he -composed an inscription, and interested himself warmly to have it -adopted. Amongst the public monuments on which his compositions may be -found are the Nelson Monument at Edinburgh, and the Duke of -Wellington's shield at Gibraltar. On King Robert Bruce, Charles Edward -Stuart, his mother, Sir James Foulis de Collington, and Robertson the -historian, he also produced commemorative inscriptions of great -excellence. As a very fair specimen of his style the inscription on -the Seott Flagon is transcribed:-- - - "Gualterum Scott, - De Abbotsford, - Virum summi Ingenii - Scriptorem Elegantem - Poetarum sui seculi facile Principem - Patriae Decus - Ob varia ergo ipsam merita - In civium suorum numerum - Grata adscripsit Civitas Edinburgensis - Et hoc Cantharo donavit - A. D. MDCCCXIII." - -Sir Richard Blackmore, the other pedagogue physician, was one of those -good, injudicious mortals who always either praise or blame too -much--usually the latter. The son of a Wiltshire attorney, he was -educated at Westminster School and Oxford, taking his degree of M.A. -June, 1676, and residing, in all, thirteen years in the university, -during a portion of which protracted period of residence he was -(though Dr. Johnson erroneously supposed the reverse) a laborious -student. On leaving Oxford he passed through a course of searching -poverty, and became a schoolmaster. In this earlier part of his life -he travelled in France, Germany, the Low Countries, and Italy, and -took his doctor's degree in the University of Padua. On turning his -attention to medicine, he consulted Sydenham as to what authors he -ought to read. "Don Quixote," replied the veteran. A similar answer -has been attributed to Lord Erskine on being asked by a law student -the best literary sources for acquiring legal knowledge and success. -The scepticism of the reply reminds one of Garth, who, to an anxious -patient inquiring what physician he had best call in in case of his -(Garth's) death, responded, "One is e'en as good as t'other, and -surgeons are not less knowing." - -As a poet, Blackmore failed, but as a physician he was for many years -one of the most successful men in his profession. Living at Sadler's -Hall, Cheapside, he was the oracle of all the wealthiest citizens, and -was blessed with an affluence that allowed him to drive about town in -a handsome equipage, and make an imposing figure to the world. -Industrious, honourable, and cordially liked by his personal friends, -he was by no means the paltry fellow that Dryden and Pope represented -him. Johnson, in his brilliant memoir, treated him very unfairly, and -clearly was annoyed that his conscience would not allow him to treat -him worse. On altogether insufficient grounds the doctor argued that -his knowledge of ancient authors was superficial, and for the most -part derived from secondary sources. Passages indeed are introduced to -show that the ridicule and contempt showered on the poet by his -adversaries, and re-echoed by the laughing world, were unjust; but the -effect of these admissions, complete in themselves, is more than -counterbalanced by the sarcasms (and some of them vulgar sarcasms too) -which the biographer, in imitation of Colonel Codrington, Sir Charles -Sedley, and Colonel Blount, directs against the city knight. - -A sincerely religious man, Blackmore was offended with the gross -licentiousness of the drama, and all those productions of the poets -which constituted the light literature of the eighteenth century. To -his eternal honour, Blackmore was the first man who had the courage to -raise his voice against the evil, and give utterance to a manly -indignation at the insults offered nightly in every theatre to public -decency. Unskilled in the use of the pen, of an age when he could not -hope to perfect himself in an art to which he had not in youth -systematically trained himself, and immersed in the cares of an -extensive practice, he set himself to work on the production of a -poem, which should elevate and instruct, not vitiate and deprave -youthful readers. In this spirit "Prince Arthur" was composed and -published in 1695, when the author was between forty and fifty years -of age. It was written, as he frankly acknowledged, "by such catches -and starts, and in such occasional uncertain hours as his profession -afforded, and for the greatest part in coffee-houses, or in passing up -and down streets." The wits laughed at him for writing "to the -rumbling of his chariot-wheels," but at this date, ridicule thrown on -a man for doing good at odd scraps of a busy day, has a close -similarity to the laughter of fools. Let any reader compare the -healthy gentlemanlike tone of the preface to "Prince Arthur," with the -mean animosity of all the virulent criticisms and sarcasms that were -directed against the author and his works, and then decide on which -side truth and good taste lie. - -Blackmore made the fatal error of writing too much. His long poems -wearied the patience of those who sympathized with his goodness of -intention. What a list there is of them, in Swift's inscription, "to -be put under Sir Richard's picture!" - - "See, who ne'er was, or will be half read, - Who first sung Arthur, then sung Alfred,[7] - Praised great Eliza[8] in God's anger, - Till all true Englishmen cried, hang her! - . . . . . - Then hiss'd from earth, grown heavenly quite, - Made every reader curse the light.[9] - Mauled human wit in one thick satire;[10] - Next, in three books, spoil'd human nature;[11] - Ended Creation[12] at a jerk, - And of Redemption[13] made damn'd work: - Then took his muse at once, and dipp'd her - Full in the middle of the Scripture. - What wonders there the man grown old did! - Sternhold himself he out-sternholded; - Made David[14] seem so mad and freakish, - All thought him just what thought king Achish. - No mortal read his Solomon,[15] - But judged R'oboam his own son. - Moses[16] he served, as Moses Pharaoh, - And Deborah as she Sisera: - Made Jeremy[17] full sore to cry, - And Job[18] himself curse God and die." - - [7] Two heroic Poems, folio, twenty books. - - [8] An heroic Poem, in twelve books. - - [9] Hymn to Light. - - [10] Satire against Wit. - - [11] Of the Nature of Man. - - [12] Creation, in seven books. - - [13] Redemption, in six books. - - [14] Translation of all the Psalms. - - [15] Canticles and Ecclesiastes. - - [16] Canticles of Moses, Deborah, &c. - - [17] The Lamentations. - - [18] The Whole Book of Job, in folio. - -Nor is this by any means a complete list of Sir Richard's works; for -he was also a voluminous medical writer, and author of a "History of -the Conspiracy against the Person and Government of King William the -Third, of glorious memory, in the year 1695." - -Dryden, unable to clear himself of the charge of pandering for gain to -the licentious tastes of the age, responded to his accuser by calling -him an "ass," a "pedant," a "quack," and a "canting preacher." - - "Quack Maurus, though he never took degrees - In either of our universities, - Yet to be shown by some kind wit he looks, - Because he play'd the fool, and writ three books. - But if he would be worth a poet's pen, - He must be more a fool, and write again; - For all the former fustian stuff he wrote - Was dead-born doggerel, or is quite forgot: - His man of Uz, stript of his Hebrew robe, - Is just the proverb, and 'as poor as Job.' - One would have thought he could no longer jog; - But Arthur was a level, Job's a bog. - There though he crept, yet still he kept in sight; - But here he founders in, and sinks downright. - . . . . . - At leisure hours in epic song he deals, - Writes to the rumbling of his coach's wheels. - . . . . . - Well, let him go--'tis yet too early day - To get himself a place in farce or play; - We know not by what name we should arraign him, - For no one category can contain him. - A pedant, canting preacher, and a quack, - Are load enough to break an ass's back. - At last, grown wanton, he presumed to write, - Traduced two kings, their kindness to requite; - One made the doctor, and one dubbed the knight." - -The former of the kings alluded to is James the Second, Blackmore -having obtained his fellowship of the College of Physicians, April 12, -1687, under the new charter granted to the college by that monarch; -the latter being William the Third, who, in recognition of the -doctor's zeal and influence as a Whig, not less than of his eminence -in his profession, made him a physician of the household, and knighted -him. - -Pope says:-- - - "The hero William, and the martyr Charles, - One knighted Blackmore, and one pension'd Quarles." - -The bard of Twickenham had of course a few ill words for Blackmore. In -the Dunciad he says:-- - - "Ye critics, in whose heads, as equal scales, - I weigh what author's heaviness prevails; - Which most conduce to soothe the soul in slumbers, - My H----ley's periods, or my Blackmore's numbers." - -Elsewhere, in the same poem, the little wasp of poetry continues his -hissing song:-- - - "But far o'er all, sonorous Blackmore's strain, - Walls, steeples, skies, bray back to him again. - In Tot'nham fields, the brethren, with amaze, - Prick all their ears up, and forget to graze; - 'Long Chancery Lane retentive rolls the sound, - And courts to courts return it round and round; - Thames wafts it thence to Rufus' roaring hall, - And Hungerford re-echoes bawl for bawl; - All hail him victor in both gifts and song, - Who sings so loudly, and who sings so long." - -Such being the tone of the generals, the reader can imagine that of -the petty scribblers, the professional libellers, the coffee-house -rakes, and literary amateurs of the Temple, who formed the rabble of -the vast army against which the doctor had pitted himself, in defence -of public decency and domestic morality. Under the title of -"Commendatory Verses, on the author of the two Arthurs, and the Satyr -against Wit, by some of his particular friends," were collected, in -the year 1700, upwards of forty sets of ribald verses, taunting Sir -Richard with his early poverty, with his having been a school-master, -with the unspeakable baseness of--living in the city. The writers of -these wretched dirty lampoons, that no kitchen-maid could in our day -read without blushing, little thought what they were doing. Their -obscene stupidity has secured for them the lasting ignominy to which -they imagined they were consigning their antagonist. What a crew they -are!--with chivalric Steel and kindly Garth, forgetting their better -natures, and joining in the miserable riot! To "The City Quack"; "The -Cheapside Knight"; "The Illustrious Quack, Pedant, Bard"; "The Merry -Poetaster of Sadler's Hall"--such are the titles by which they address -the doctor, who had presumed to say that authors and men of wit ought -to find a worthier exercise for their intellects than the manufacture -of impure jests. - -Colonel Codrington makes his shot thus-- - - "By Nature meant, by Want a Pedant made, - Blackmore at first profess'd the whipping trade; - . . . . . - In vain his drugs as well as Birch he try'd-- - His boys grew blockheads, and his patients dy'd. - Next he turn'd Bard, and, mounted on a cart, - Whose hideous rumbling made Apollo start, - Burlesqued the Bravest, Wisest son of Mars, - In ballad rhymes, and all the pomp of Farce. - . . . . . - -The same dull sarcasms about killing patients and whipping boys into -blockheads are repeated over and over again. As if to show, with the -greatest possible force, the pitch to which the evil of the times had -risen, the coarsest and most disgusting of all these lampoon-writers -was a lady of rank--the Countess of Sandwich. By the side of her -Ladyship, Afra Behn and Mistress Manley become timid blushing maidens. -A better defence of Sir Richard than the Countess's attack on him it -would be impossible to imagine. - -And after all--the slander and the maledictions--Sir Richard Blackmore -gained the victory, and the wits who never wearied of calling him "a -fool" were defeated. The preface to "Prince Arthur" provoked -discussion; the good sense and better taste of the country were -roused, and took the reformer's side of the controversy. Pope and his -myrmidons, it was true, were still able to make the _beau monde_ merry -about the city knight's presumption--but they could not refute the -city knight's arguments; and they themselves were compelled to shape -their conduct, as writers, in deference to a new public feeling which -he was an important instrument in calling into existence. "Prince -Arthur" appeared in 1695, and to the commotion caused by its preface -may be attributed much of the success of Jeremy Collier's "Short View -of the Immorality and Profaneness of the Stage," which was published -some three years afterwards. - -As a poet Sir Richard Blackmore can command only that praise which the -charitable bestow on goodness of intention. His muse was a pleasant, -well-looking, right-minded young lady, but nothing more. But it must -be remembered, before we measure out our criticisms on his -productions, that he never arrogated to himself the highest honours of -poesy. "I am a gentleman of taste and culture, and though I cannot -ever hope to build up the nervous lines of Dryden, or attain the -polish and brilliance of Congreve, I believe I can write what the -generation sorely needs--works that intelligent men may study with -improvement, devout Christians may read without being offended, and -pure-minded girls may peruse without blushing from shame. 'Tis true I -am a hard-worked doctor, spending my days in coffee-houses, receiving -apothecaries, or driving over the stones in my carriage, visiting my -patients. Of course a man so circumstanced must fail to achieve -artistic excellence, but still I'll do my best." Such was the language -with which he introduced himself to the public. - -His best poem, _The Creation_, had such merit that his carping -biographer, Johnson, says, "This poem, if he had written nothing else, -would have transmitted him to posterity one of the first favourites of -the English muse"; and Addison designated the same poem "one of the -most useful and noble productions in our English verse." - -Of Sir Richard's private character Johnson remarks--"In some part of -his life, it is not known when, his indigence compelled him to teach a -school--a humiliation with which, though it certainly lasted but a -little while, his enemies did not forget to reproach him when he -became conspicuous enough to excite malevolence; and let it be -remembered, for his honour, that to have been a schoolmaster is the -only reproach which all the perspicacity of malice, animated by wit, -has ever fixed upon his private life." - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - -THE GENEROSITY AND THE PARSIMONY OF PHYSICIANS. - - -Of the generosity of physicians one _need_ say nothing, for there are -few who have not experienced or witnessed it; and one _had better_ say -nothing, as no words could do justice to such a subject. This writer -can speak for at least one poor scholar, to whose sick-bed physicians -have come from distant quarters of the town, day after day, never -taking a coin for their precious services, and always in their -graceful benevolence seeming to find positive enjoyment in their -unpaid labour. In gratitude for kindness shown to himself, and yet -more for beneficence exhibited to those whom he loves, that man of the -goose-quill and thumbed books would like to put on record the names of -certain members of "the Faculty" to whom he is so deeply indebted. Ah, -dear Dr. ---- and Dr. ---- and Dr. ----, do not start!--your names -shall not be put down on this cheap common page. Where they are -engraved, you know! - -Cynics have been found in plenty to rail at physicians for loving -their fees; and one might justly retort on the Cynics, that they love -_nothing but_ their fees. Who doesn't love the sweet money earned by -his labour--be it labour of hand or brain, or both? One thing is -sure--that doctors are underpaid. The most successful of them in our -own time get far less than their predecessors of any reign, from Harry -the Eighth downwards. And for honours, though the present age has seen -an author raised to the peerage, no precedent has as yet been -established for ennobling eminent physicians and surgeons. - -Queen Elizabeth gave her physician-in-ordinary L100 per annum, besides -diet, wine, wax, and other perquisites. Her apothecary, Hugo Morgan, -must too have made a good thing out of her. For a quarter's bill that -gentleman was paid L83 7_s._ 8_d._, a large sum in those days; but -then it was for such good things. What Queen of England could grudge -eleven shillings for "a confection made like a manus Christi, with -bezoar stone and unicorn's horn"?--sixteen pence for "a royal -sweetmeat with incised rhubarb"?--twelve pence for "Rosewater for the -King of Navarre's ambassador"?--six shillings for "a conserve of -barberries, with preserved damascene plums, and other things for Mr. -Raleigh"?--two shillings and sixpence for "sweet scent to be used at -the christening of Sir Richard Knightley's son"? - -Coytier, the physician of Charles the XI. of France, was better paid -by far. The extent to which he fleeced that monarch is incredible. -Favour after favour he wrung from him. When the royal patient resisted -the modest demands of his physician, the latter threatened him with -speedy dissolution. On this menace the king, succumbing to that fear -of death which characterized more than one other of his family, was -sure to make the required concession. Theodore Hook's valet, who was a -good servant in the first year of his service, a sympathizing friend -in the second, and a hard tyrant in the third, was a timid slave -compared with Coytier. Charles, in order to be freed from his -despotism, ordered him to be dispatched. The officer, intrusted with -the task of carrying out the royal wishes, waited on Coytier, and -said, in a most gentlemanlike and considerate manner, "I am very -sorry, my dear fellow, but I must kill you. The king can't stand you -any longer." "All right," said Coytier, with perfect unconcern, -"whenever you like. What time would it be most convenient for you to -kill me? But still, I am deuced sorry for his Majesty, for I know by -occult science that he can't outlive me more than four days." The -officer was so struck with the announcement, that he went away and -forthwith imparted it to the king. "Liberate him instantly--don't hurt -a hair of his head!" cried the terrified monarch. And Coytier was once -again restored to his place in the king's confidence and pocket. - -Henry Atkins managed James the First with some dexterity. Atkins was -sent for to Scotland, to attend Charles the First (then an infant), -who was dangerously ill of a fever. The king gave him the handsome fee -of L6000. Atkins invested the money in the purchase of the manor of -Clapham. - -Radcliffe, with a rare effort of generosity, attended a friend for a -twelvemonth gratuitously. On making his last visit his friend said, -"Doctor, here is a purse in which I have put every day's fee; and your -goodness must not get the better of my gratitude. Take your money." -Radcliffe looked, made a resolve to persevere in benevolence, just -touched the purse to reject it, heard the chink of the gold pieces in -it, and put the bag into his pocket. "Singly, sir, I could have -refused them for a twelvemonth; but, all together, _they are -irresistible_," said the doctor, walking off with a heavy prize and a -light heart. - -Louis XIV. gave his physician and his surgeon 75,000 crowns each, -after successfully undergoing a painful and at that time novel -operation. By the side of such munificence, the fees paid by Napoleon -I. to the Faculty who attended Marie Louise in March, 1811, when the -Emperor's son was born, seem insufficient. Dubois, Corvisart, -Bourdier, and Ivan were the professional authorities employed, and -they had among them a remuneration of L4000, L2000 being the portion -assigned to Dubois. - -Even more than fee gratefully paid does a humorous physician enjoy an -extra fee adroitly drawn from the hand of a reluctant payer. Sir -Richard Jebb was once paid three guineas by a nobleman from whom he -had a right to expect five. Sir Richard dropped the coins on the -carpet, when a servant picked them up and restored them--three, and -only three. Instead of walking off Sir Richard continued his search on -the carpet. "Are all the guineas found?" asked his Lordship looking -round. "There must be two still on the floor," was the answer, "for I -have only three." The hint of course was taken and the right sum put -down. An eminent Bristol doctor accomplished a greater feat than this, -and took a fee from--a dead commoner, not a live lord. Coming into his -patient's bed-room immediately after death had taken place, he found -the right hand of the deceased tightly clenched. Opening the fingers -he discovered within them a guinea. "Ah, that was for me--clearly," -said the doctor putting the piece into his pocket. - -Reminding the reader, in its commencement, of Sir Richard Jebb's -disappointment at the three-guinea fee, the following story may here -be appropriately inserted. A physician on receiving two guineas, when -he expected three, from an old lady patient, who was accustomed to -give him the latter fee, had recourse to one part of Sir Richard's -artifice, and assuming that the third guinea had been dropt through -his carelessness on the floor, looked about for it. "Nay, nay," said -the lady with a smile, "you are not in fault. It is I who dropt it." - -There is an abundance of good stories of physicians fleecing their -lambs. To those that are true the comment may be made--"Doubtless the -lambs were all the better for being shorn." For the following anecdote -we are indebted to Dr. Moore, the author of "Zeluco." A wealthy -tradesman, after drinking the Bath waters, took a fancy to try the -effect of the Bristol hot wells. Armed with an introduction from a -Bath physician to a professional brother at Bristol, the invalid set -out on his journey. On the road he gave way to his curiosity to read -the doctor's letter of introduction, and cautiously prying into it -read these instructive words: "Dear sir, the bearer is a fat Wiltshire -clothier--make the most of him." - -Benevolence was not a virtue in old Monsey's line; but he could be -generous at another's expense, when the enjoyment his malignity -experienced in paining one person counterbalanced his discomfort at -giving pleasure to another. Strolling through Oxford market he heard -a poor woman ask the price of a piece of meat that lay on a butcher's -stall. - -"A penny a pound!" growled the man to whom the question was put, -disdaining to give a serious answer to such a poverty-stricken -customer. - -"Just weigh that piece of beef, my friend," said Monsey, stepping up. - -"Ten pounds and a half, sir," observed the butcher, after adjusting -the scales and weights. - -"Here, my good woman," said Monsey, "out with your apron, and put the -beef into it, and make haste home to your family." - -Blessing the benevolent heart of the eccentric old gentleman, the -woman did as she was bid, took possession of her meat, and was -speedily out of sight. - -"And there, my man," said Monsey, turning to the butcher, "is tenpence -halfpenny, the price of your beef." - -"What do you mean?" demanded the man. - -"Simply that that's all I'll pay you. You said the meat was a penny a -pound. At that price I bought it of you--to give to the poor woman. -Good morning!" - -A fee that Dr. Fothergill took of Mr. Grenville was earned without -much trouble. Fothergill, like Lettsom, was a Quaker, and was warmly -supported by his brother sectarians. In the same way Mead was brought -into practice by the Nonconformists, to whom his father ministered -spiritually. Indeed, Mead's satirists affirmed that when his servant -(acting on instructions) had called him out from divine service, the -parson took his part in the "dodge" by asking the congregation to -pray for the bodily and ghostly welfare of the patient to whom his son -had just been summoned. Dissenters are remarkable for giving staunch -support, and thorough confidence, to a doctor of their own persuasion. -At the outbreak of the American war, therefore Grenville knew that he -could not consult a better authority than the Quaker doctor, -Fothergill, on the state of feeling amongst the Quaker colonists. -Fothergill was consequently summoned to prescribe for the politician. -The visit took the form of an animated discussion on American affairs, -which was brought to a conclusion by Grenville's putting five guineas -into the physician's hand, saying--"Really, doctor, I am so much -better, that I don't want you to prescribe for me." With a canny -significant smile Fothergill, keeping, like a true Quaker, firm hold -of the money, answered, "At this rate, friend, I will spare thee an -hour now and then." - -Dr. Glynn, of Cambridge, was as benevolent as he was eccentric. His -reputation in the fen districts as an ague doctor was great, and for -some years he made a large professional income. On one occasion a poor -peasant woman, the widowed mother of an only son, trudged from the -heart of the fens into Cambridge, to consult the doctor about her boy, -who was ill of an ague. Her manner so interested the physician, that -though it was during an inclement winter, and the roads were almost -impassable to carriages, he ordered horses, and went out to see the -sick lad. After a tedious attendance, and the exhibition of much port -wine and bark (bought at the doctor's expense), the patient recovered, -and Glynn took his leave. A few days after the farewell visit, the -poor woman again presented herself in the consulting room. - -"I hope, my good woman," said Glynn, "your son is not ill again?" - -"No, sir, he was never better," answered the woman, gratefully; "but -we can't get no rest for thinking of all the trouble that you have -had, and so my boy resolved this morning on sending you his favourite -magpie." - -In the woman's hand was a large wicker basket, which she opened at the -conclusion of the speech, affording means of egress to an enormous -magpie, that hopped out into the room, demure as a saint and bold as a -lord. It was a fee to be proud of! - -The free-will offerings of the poor to their doctors are sometimes -very droll, and yet more touching. They are presented with such -fervour and simplicity, and such a sincere anxiety that they should be -taken as an expression of gratitude for favours past, not for favours -to come. The writer of these pages has known the humble toilers of -agricultural districts retain for a score of years the memory of kind -services done to them in sickness. He could tell of several who, at -the anniversary of a particular day (when a wife died, or child was -saved from fever, or an accident crushed a finger or lacerated a -limb), trudge for miles over the country to the doctor's house, and -leave there a little present--a pot of honey, a basket of apples, a -dish of the currants from the bush which "the doctor" once praised, -and said was fit for a gentleman's garden. - -Of eminent physicians Dr. Gregory of Edinburgh was as remarkable for -his amiability as for his learning. It was his custom to receive from -new pupils at his own house the fees for the privilege of attending -his lectures. Whilst thus engaged one day, he left a student in his -consulting-room, and went into an adjoining apartment for a fresh -supply of admission tickets. In a mirror the doctor saw the student -rise from his seat, and sweep into his pocket some guineas from a heap -of gold (the fees of other students) that lay on the consulting-room -table. Without saying a word at the moment, Dr. Gregory returned, -dated the admission ticket, and gave it to the thief. He then politely -attended him to the door, and on the threshold said to the young man, -with deep emotion, "I saw what you did just now. Keep the money. I -know what distress you must be in. But for God's sake never do it -again--it can never succeed." The pupil implored Gregory to take back -the money, but the doctor said, "Your punishment is this, you must -keep it--now you have taken it." The reproof had a salutary effect. -The youth turned out a good and honest man. - -An even better anecdote can be told of this good physician's -benevolence. A poor medical student, ill of typhus fever, sent for -him. The summons was attended to, and the visit paid, when the invalid -proffered the customary guinea fee. Dr. Gregory turned away, insulted -and angry. "I beg your pardon, Dr. Gregory," exclaimed the student, -apologetically, "I didn't know your rule. Dr. ---- has always taken -one." "Oh," answered Gregory, "he has--has he? Look you, then, my -young friend; ask him to meet me in consultation, and then offer him a -fee; or stay--offer me the fee first." The directions were duly acted -upon. The consultation took place, and the fee was offered. "Sir," -exclaimed the benevolent doctor, "do you mean to insult me? Is there a -professor who would in this University degrade himself so far as to -take payment from one of his brotherhood--and a junior?" The confusion -of the man on whom this reproof was really conferred can be imagined. -He had the decency, ere the day closed, to send back to the student -all the fees he had taken of him. - -Amongst charitable physicians a high place must be assigned to -Brocklesby, of whom mention is made in another part of these pages. An -ardent Whig, he was the friend of enthusiastic Tories as well as of -the members of his own body. Burke on the one hand, and Johnson on the -other, were amongst his intimate associates, and experienced his -beneficence. To the latter he offered a hundred-a-year for life. And -when the Tory writer was struggling with the heavy burden of -increasing disease, he attended him with affectionate solicitude, -taking no fee for his services--Dr. Heberden, Dr. Warren, Dr. Butler, -and Mr. Cruikshank the surgeon, displaying a similar liberality. It -was Brocklesby who endeavored to soothe the mental agitation of the -aged scholar's death-bed, by repeating the passage from the Roman -satirist, in which occurs the line:-- - - "Fortem posce animum et mortis terrore carentem." - -Burke's pun on Brocklesby's name is a good instance of the elaborate -ingenuity with which the great Whig orator adorned his conversation -and his speeches. Pre-eminent amongst the advertising quacks of the -day was Dr. Rock. It was therefore natural that Brocklesby should -express some surprise at being accosted by Burke as Dr. Rock, a title -at once infamous and ridiculous. "Don't be offended. Your name is -Rock," said Burke, with a laugh; "I'll prove it algebraically: -_Brock--b = Rock_; or, Brock less _b_ makes Rock." Dr. Brocklesby, on -the occasion of giving evidence in a trial, had the ill fortune to -offend the presiding judge, who, amongst other prejudices not uncommon -in the legal profession, cherished a lively contempt for medical -evidence. "Well, gentlemen of the jury," said the noble lawyer in his -summing up, "what's the medical testimony? First we have a Dr. -Rocklesby or--Brocklesby. What does he say? _First of all he_ -swears--_he's a physician_." - -Abernethy is a by-word for rudeness and even brutality of manner; but -he was as tender and generous as a man ought to be, as a man of great -intelligence usually is. The stories current about him are nearly all -fictions of the imagination; or, where they have any foundation in -fact, relate to events that occurred long before the hero to whom they -are tacked by anecdote-mongers had appeared on the stage. He was -eccentric--but his eccentricities always took the direction of common -sense; whereas the extravagances attributed to him by popular gossip -are frequently those of a heartless buffoon. His time was precious, -and he rightly considered that his business was to set his patients in -the way of recovering their lost health--not to listen to their -fatuous prosings about their maladies. He was therefore prompt and -decided in checking the egotistic garrulity of valetudinarians. This -candid expression of his dislike to unnecessary talk had one good -result. People who came to consult him took care not to offend him by -bootless prating. A lady on one occasion entered his consulting-room, -and put before him an injured finger, without saying a word. In -silence Abernethy dressed the wound, when instantly and silently the -lady put the usual fee on the table, and retired. In a few days she -called again, and offered the finger for inspection. "Better?" asked -the surgeon. "Better," answered the lady, speaking to him for the -first time. Not another word followed during the rest of the -interview. Three or four similar visits were made, at the last of -which the patient held out her finger free from bandages and perfectly -healed. "Well?" was Abernethy's monosyllabic inquiry. "Well," was the -lady's equally brief answer. "Upon my soul, madam," exclaimed the -delighted surgeon, "_you are the most rational woman I ever met -with_." - -To curb his tongue, however, out of respect to Abernethy's humour, was -an impossibility to John Philpot Curran. Eight times Curran -(personally unknown to Abernethy) had called on the great surgeon; and -eight times Abernethy had looked at the orator's tongue (telling him, -by-the-by, that it was the most unclean and utterly abominable tongue -in the world), had curtly advised him to drink less, and not abuse his -stomach with gormandizing, had taken a guinea, and had bowed him out -of the room. On the ninth visit, just as he was about to be dismissed -in the same summary fashion, Curran, with a flash of his dark eye, -fixed the surgeon, and said--"Mr. Abernethy, I have been here on eight -different days, and I have paid you eight different guineas; but you -have never yet listened to the symptoms of my complaint. I am -resolved, sir, not to leave the room till you satisfy me by doing -so." With a good-natured laugh, Abernethy, half suspecting that he had -to deal with a madman, fell back in his chair and said--"Oh! very -well, sir; I am ready to hear you out. Go on, give me the whole--your -birth, parentage, and education. I wait your pleasure. Pray be as -minute and tedious as you can." With perfect gravity Curran -began--"Sir, my name is John Philpot Curran. My parents were poor, but -I believe honest people, of the province of Munster, where also I was -born, at Newmarket, in the county of Cork, in the year one thousand -seven hundred and fifty. My father being employed to collect the rents -of a Protestant gentleman of small fortune, in that neighbourhood, -procured my admission into one of the Protestant free-schools, where I -obtained the first rudiments of my education. I was next enabled to -enter Trinity College, Dublin, in the humble sphere of a sizar--" And -so he went steadily on, till he had thrown his auditor into -convulsions of laughter. - -Abernethy was very careful not to take fees from patients if he -suspected them to be in indigent circumstances. Mr. George Macilwain, -in his instructive and agreeable "Memoirs of John Abernethy," mentions -a case where an old officer of parsimonious habits, but not of -impoverished condition, could not induce Abernethy to accept his fee, -and consequently forbore from again consulting him. On another -occasion, when a half-pay lieutenant wished to pay him for a long and -laborious attendance, Abernethy replied, "Wait till you're a general; -then come and see me, and we'll talk about fees." To a gentleman of -small means who consulted him, after having in vain had recourse to -other surgeons, he said--"Your recovery will be slow. If you don't -feel much pain, depend upon it you are gradually getting round; if you -do feel much pain, then come again, _but not else_. I don't want your -money." To a hospital student (of great promise and industry, but in -narrow circumstances), who became his dresser, he returned the -customary fee of sixty guineas, and requested him to expend them in -the purchase of books and securing other means of improvement. To a -poor widow lady (who consulted him about her child), he, on saying -good-bye in a friendly letter, returned all the fees he had taken from -her under the impression that she was in good circumstances, and added -L50 to the sum, begging her to expend it in giving her child a daily -ride in the fresh air. He was often brusque and harsh, and more than -once was properly reproved for his hastiness and want of -consideration. - -"I have heard of your rudeness before I came, sir," one lady said, -taking his prescription, "but I was not prepared for such treatment. -What am I to do with this?" - -"Anything you like," the surgeon roughly answered. "Put it on the fire -if you please." - -Taking him at his word, the lady put her fee on the table, and the -prescription on the fire; and making a bow, left the room. Abernethy -followed her into the hall, apologizing, and begging her to take back -the fee or let him write another prescription; but the lady would not -yield her vantage-ground. - -Of operations Abernethy had a most un-surgeon-like horror--"like -Cheselden and Hunter, regarding them as the reproach of the -profession." "I hope, sir, it will not be long," said a poor woman, -suffering under the knife. "No, indeed," earnestly answered Abernethy, -"that would be too horrible." This humanity, on a point on which -surgeons are popularly regarded as being devoid of feeling, is very -general in the profession. William Cooper (Sir Astley's uncle) was, -like Abernethy, a most tender-hearted man. He was about to amputate a -man's leg, in the hospital theatre, when the poor fellow, terrified at -the display of instruments and apparatus, suddenly jumped off the -table, and hobbled away. The students burst out laughing; and the -surgeon, much pleased at being excused from the performance of a -painful duty, exclaimed, "By God, I am glad he's gone!" - -The treatment which one poor fellow received from Abernethy may at -first sight seem to militate against our high estimate of the -surgeon's humanity, and dislike of inflicting physical pain. Dr. ----, -an eminent physician still living and conferring lustre on his -profession, sent a favourite man-servant with a brief note, -running--"Dear Abernethy, Will you do me the kindness to put a seton -in this poor fellow's neck? Yours sincerely, ----." The man, who was -accustomed and encouraged to indulge in considerable freedom of speech -with his master's friends, not only delivered the note to Abernethy, -but added, in an explanatory and confiding tone, "You see, sir, I -don't get better, and as master thinks I ought to have a seton in my -neck, I should be thankful if you'd put it in for me." It is not at -all improbable that Abernethy resented the directions of master and -man. Anyhow he inquired into the invalid's case, and then taking out -his needles did as he was requested. The operation was attended with a -little pain, and the man howled, as only a coward can howl, under the -temporary inconvenience. "Oh! Lor' bless you! Oh, have mercy on me! -Yarra--yarra--yarr! Oh, doctor--doctor--you'll kill me!" In another -minute the surgeon's work was accomplished, and the acute pain having -passed away, the man recovered his self-possession and impudence. - -"Oh, well, sir, I do hope, now that it's done, it'll do me good. I do -hope that." - -"But it won't do you a bit of good." - -"What, sir, no good?" cried the fellow. - -"No more good," replied Abernethy, "than if I had spat upon it." - -"Then, sir--why--oh, yarr! here's the pain again--why did you do it?" - -"Confound you, man!" answered the surgeon testily. "Why did I do -it?--why, _didn't you ask me to put a seton in your neck_?" - -Of course the surgical treatment employed by Abernethy in this case -was the right one; but he was so nettled with the fellow's impudence -and unmanly lamentations, that he could not forbear playing off upon -him a barbarous jest. - -If for this outbreak of vindictive humour the reader is inclined to -call Abernethy a savage, let his gift of L50 to the widow lady, to pay -for her sick child's carriage exercise, be remembered. _Apropos_ of -L50, Dr. Wilson of Bath sent a present of that sum to an indigent -clergyman, against whom he had come in the course of practice. The -gentleman who had engaged to convey the gift to the unfortunate -priest said, "Well, then, I'll take the money to him to-morrow." "Oh, -my dear sir," said the doctor, "take it to him to-night. Only think of -the importance to a sick man of one good night's rest!" - -Side by side with stories of the benevolence of "the Faculty," piquant -anecdotes of their stinginess might be told. This writer knew formerly -a grab-all-you-can-get surgeon, who was entertaining a few -professional brethren at a Sunday morning's breakfast, when a patient -was ushered into the ante-room of the surgeon's bachelor chambers, and -the surgeon himself was called away to the visitor. Unfortunately he -left the folding-doors between the breakfast-room and the ante-room -ajar, and his friends sitting in the former apartment overheard the -following conversation: - -"Well, my friend, what's the matter?"--the surgeon's voice. - -The visitor's voice--"Plaze, yer honner, I'm a pore Hirish labourer, -but I can spill a bit, and I read o' yer honner's moighty foine cure -in the midical jarnal--the _Lancet_. And I've walked up twilve miles -to have yer honner cure me. My complaint is ----" - -Surgeon's voice, contemptuously--"Oh, my good man, you've made a -mistake. You'd better go to the druggist's shop nearest your home, and -he'll do for you all you want. You couldn't pay me as I require to be -paid." - -Visitor's voice, proudly and triumphantly--"Och, an' little ye know an -Irish gintleman, dochter, if ye think he'd be beholden to the best of -you for a feavor. Here's a bit o' gould--nocht liss nor a tin shillin' -piece, but I've saved it up for ye, and ye'll heve the whole, tho' its -every blissed farthing I hev." - -The surgeon's voice altered. The case was gone into. The prescription -was written. The poor Irish drudge rose to go, when the surgeon, with -that delicate quantity of conscience that rogues always have to make -themselves comfortable upon, said, "Now, you say you have no more -money, my friend. Well, the druggist will charge you eighteenpence for -the medicine I have ordered there. So there's eighteenpence for you -out of your half-sovereign." - -We may add that this surgeon was then, at a moderate computation, -making three thousand a year. We have heard of an Old Bailey barrister -boasting how he wrung the shillings (to convert the sovereigns already -paid with his brief into guineas) from the grimed hands of a prisoner -actually standing in the dock for trial, ere he would engage to defend -him. But compared with this surgeon the man of the long robe was a -disinterested friend of the oppressed. - -A better story yet of a surgeon who seized on his fee like a hawk. A -clergyman of ----shire, fell from a branch of a high pear-tree to the -grass-plot of the little garden that surrounded his vicarage-house, -and sustained, besides being stunned, a compound fracture of the right -arm. His wife, a young and lovely creature, of a noble but poor -family, to whom he had been married only three or four years, was -terribly alarmed, and without regulating her conduct by considerations -of her pecuniary means, dispatched a telegraphic message to an eminent -London surgeon. In the course of three or four hours the surgeon made -his appearance, and set the broken limb. - -"And what, sir," the young wife timidly asked of the surgeon, when he -had come down-stairs into her little drawing-room, "is your fee?" - -"Oh, let's see--distance from town, hundred miles. Yes. Then my fee is -a hundred guineas!" - -Turning deadly pale with fright (for the sum was ten times the highest -amount the poor girl had thought of as a likely fee) she rose, and -left the room, saying, "Will you be kind enough to wait for a few -minutes?" - -Luckily her brother (like her husband, a clergyman, with very moderate -preferment) was in the house, and he soon made his appearance in the -drawing-room. "Sir," said he, addressing the operator, "my sister has -just now been telling me the embarrassment she is in, and I think it -best to repeat her story frankly. She is quite inexperienced in money -matters, and sent for you without ever asking what the ordinary fee to -so distinguished a surgeon as yourself, for coming so far from London, -might be. Well, sir, it is right you should know her circumstances. My -brother-in-law has no property but his small living, which does not -yield him more than L400 per annum, and he has already two children. -My sister has no private fortune whatever, at present, and all she has -in prospect is the reversion of a trifling sum--at a distant period. -Poverty is the only stigma that time has fixed upon my family. Now, -sir, under the circumstances, if professional etiquette would allow of -your reducing your fee to the straitened finances of my sister, it -really would--would be--" - -"Oh, my dear sir," returned the surgeon, in a rich, unctuous voice of -benevolence, "pray don't think I'm a shark. I am really deeply -concerned for your poor sister. As for my demand of _a hundred -guineas_, since it would be beyond her means to satisfy it, why, my -dear sir, I shall be only too delighted to be allowed--_to take a -hundred pounds_!" - -The fee-loving propensities of doctors are well illustrated by the -admirable touches of Froissart's notice of Guyllyam of Harseley, who -was appointed physician to Charles the Sixth, King of France, during -his derangement. The writer's attention was first called to -Friossart's sketch of the renowned mad-doctor by his friend Mr. -Edgar--a gentleman whose valuable contributions to historical -literature have endeared his name to both young and old. Of the -measures adopted by Guyllyam for the king's cure the readers of -Froissart are not particularly informed; but it would appear, from the -physician's parting address to the "dukes of Orlyance, Berrey, -Burgoyne, and Burbone," that his system was, in its enlightened -humanity, not far behind that adopted at the present day by Dr. -Conolly and Dr. Forbes Winslow. But, however this may be, Guyllyam's -labours must be regarded as not less consonant with sound nosological -views than those of the afflicted monarch's courtiers, until it can be -shown that his treatment was worse than leaving Nature to herself. -"They," says Froissart, "that were about the kynge sente the kynge's -offrynge to a town called Aresneche, in the countie of Heynaulte, -between Cambrey and Valancennes, in the whiche towne there was a -churche parteyning to an Abbey of Saynt Waste in Arrasce wherein there -lyeth a saynte, called Saynt Acquayre, of whom there is a shrine of -sylver, which pylgrimage is sought farre and nere for the malady of -the fransey; thyder was sent a man of waxe, representynge the Frenche -Kynge, and was humbly offred to the Saynt, that he might be meane to -God, to asswage the kynge's malady, and to sende him helthe. In -lykewise the kynge's offrynge was sent to Saynt Hermyer in Romayes, -which saynt had meryte to heal the fransey. And in lykewise offrynges -were sent into other places for ye same entent." - -The conclusion of Guyllyam's attendance is thus described:--"Trewe it -is this sycknesse that the kyng took in the voyage towards Bretagne -greatly abated the ioye of the realme of France, and good cause why, -for when the heed is sicke the body canne have no ioye. No man durste -openly speke thereof, but kepte it privy as moche as might be, and it -was couertly kept fro the queene, for tyll she was delyuered and -churched she knewe nothynge thereof, which tyme she had a doughter. -The physician, myster Guyllyam, who had the chefe charge of healynge -of the kynge, was styll aboute hym, and was ryght dyligent and well -acquyted hymselfe, whereby he gate bothe honour and profyte; for -lytell and lytell he brought the kynge in good estate, and toke away -the feuer and the heate, and made hym to haue taste and appetyte to -eate and drinke, slepe and rest, and knowledge of every thynge; -howebeit, he was very feble, and lytell and lytell he made the kynge -to ryde a huntynge and on hawkynge; and whanne tydynges was knowen -through France howe the kynge was well mended, and had his memory -again, every man was ioyfull and thanked God. The kynge thus beyng at -Crayell, desyred to se the quene his wyfe and the dolphyn his sonne; -so the quene came thyder to hym, and the chylde was brought thyder, -the kynge made them good chere, and so lytell and lytell, through the -helpe of God, the kynge recouered his helthe. And when mayster -Guyllyam sawe the kynge in so good case he was ryght ioyfull, as -reasone was, for he hade done a fayre cure, and so delyuered him to -the dukes of Orlyance, Berrey, Burgoyne, and Burbone, and sayd: 'My -lordes, thanked be God, the kynge is nowe in good state and helth, so -I delyuer him, but beware lette no mane dysplease hym, for as yet his -spyrytes be no fully ferme nor stable, but lytell and lytell he shall -waxe stronge; reasonable dysporte, rest, and myrthe shall be moste -profytable for hym; and trouble hym as lytell as may be with any -counsayles, for he hath been sharpely handeled with a hote malady.' -Than it was consydred to retaygne this mayster Guyllyam, and to gyve -hym that he shulde be content with all, _whiche is the ende that all -physicians requyre, to haue gyftes and rewardes_; he was desyred to -abyde styll about the kynge, but he excused hymselfe, and sayd howe he -was an olde impotent man, and coulde note endure the maner of courte, -wherfore he desyred to returne into his owne countrey. Whan the -counsayle sawe he wolde none otherwyse do, they gaue him leaue, and at -his departing _gave him a thousand crownes, and retayned hym in wages -with four horses whansover he wolde resorte to the courte_; howbeit, I -beleve he never came there after, for whan he retournd to the cytie of -Laon, there he contynued and dyed a ryche man: he left behynde him a -xxx thousand frankes. All his dayes he was one of the greatest -nygardes that ever was: all his pleasure was to get good and to spende -nothynge, for in his howse he neuer spente past two souses of Parys -in a day, but wolde eate and drinke in other mennes howses, where as -he myght get it. _With this rodde lyghtly all physicyons are -beaten._"[19] - - [19] Froissart's Chronicles, translated by John Bouchier, Lord - Berners. - -The humane advice given by Guyllym countenances the tradition that -cards were invented for the amusement of his royal patient. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - -BLEEDING. - - -Fashion, capricious everywhere, is especially so in surgery and -medicine. Smoking we are now taught to regard as a pernicious -practice, to be abhorred as James the First abhorred it. Yet Dr. -Archer, and Dr. Everard in his "Panacea, or a Universal Medicine, -being a discovery of the wonderful virtues of Tobacco" (1659), warmly -defended the habit, and for long it was held by the highest -authorities to be an efficacious preservative against disease. What -would schoolboys now say to being flogged for _not_ smoking? Yet -Thomas Hearne, in his diary (1720-21) writes--"Jan. 21, I have been -told that in the last great plague in London none that kept -tobacconists' shops had the plague. It is certain that smoking was -looked upon as a most excellent preservative. In so much, that even -children were obliged to smoak. And I remember that I heard formerly -Tom Rogers, who was yeoman beadle, say, that when he was that year, -when the plague raged, a school-boy at Eton, all the boys of that -school were obliged to smoak in the school every morning, and that he -was never whipped so much in his life as he was one morning for not -smoaking." - -Blood-letting, so long a popular remedy with physicians, has, like -tobacco-smoking for medicinal purposes, fallen into disuse and -contempt. From Hippocrates to Paracelsus, who, with characteristic -daring, raised some objections to the practice of venesection, doctors -were in the habit of drawing disease from the body as vintners extract -claret from a cask, in a ruddy stream. In the feudal ages bleeding was -in high favour. Most of the abbeys had a "flebotomaria" or -"bleeding-house," in which the sacred inmates underwent bleedings (or -"minutions" as they were termed) at stated periods of the year, to the -strains of psalmody. The brethren of the order of St. Victor underwent -five munitions annually--in September, before Advent, before Lent, -after Easter, and at Pentecost. - -There is a good general view of the superstitions and customs -connected with venesection, in "The Salerne Schoole," a poem of which -mention continually occurs in the writings of our old physicians. The -poem commences with the following stanza:-- - - "The 'Salerne Schoole' doth by these lines impart - All health to England's king, and doth advise - From care his head to keepe, from wrath his hart. - Drink not much wine, sup light and soon arise, - When meat is gone long sitting breedeth smart; - And afternoon still waking keep your eies. - . . . . . - Use three physicians still--first Doctor _Quiet_, - Next Doctor _Merriman_ and Doctor _Dyet_. - - "Of bleeding many profits grow and great - The spirits and sences are renew'd thereby, - Thogh these mend slowly by the strength of meate, - But these with wine restor'd are by-and-by; - By bleeding to the marrow commeth heate, - It maketh cleane your braine, releeves your eie, - It mends your appetite, restoreth sleepe, - Correcting humors that do waking keep: - All inward parts and sences also clearing, - It mends the voice, touch, smell, and taste, and hearing. - - "_Three special months_, _September_, _Aprill_, _May_, - There are in which 'tis good to ope a vein-- - In these three months the moon beares greatest sway, - Then old or young, that store of blood containe, - May bleed now, though some elder wizards say, - Some daies are ill in these, I hold it vaine; - September, Aprill, May have daies apeece, - That bleeding do forbid and eating geese, - And those are they, forsooth, of May the first, - Of t'other two, the last of each are worst. - - "But yet those daies I graunt, and all the rest, - Haue in some cases just impediment, - As first, if nature be with cold opprest, - Or if the Region, Ile, or Continent, - Do scorch or freez, if stomach meat detest, - If Baths you lately did frequent, - Nor old, nor young, nor drinkers great are fit, - Nor in long sickness, nor in raging fit, - Or in this case, if you will venture bleeding, - The quantity must then be most exceeding. - - "When you to bleed intend, you must prepare - Some needful things both after and before: - Warm water and sweet oyle both needfull are, - And wine the fainting spirits to restore; - Fine binding cloths of linnen, and beware - That all the morning you do sleepe no more; - Some gentle motion helpeth after bleeding, - And on light meals a spare and temperate feeding - To bleed doth cheare the pensive, and remove - The raging furies bred by burning love. - - "Make your incision large and not too deep, - That blood have speedy yssue with the fume; - So that from sinnews you all hurt do keep. - Nor may you (as I toucht before) presume - In six ensuing houres at all to sleep, - Lest some slight bruise in sleepe cause an apostume; - Eat not of milke, or aught of milke compounded, - Nor let your brain with much drinke be confounded; - Eat no cold meats, for such the strength impayre, - And shun all misty and unwholesome ayre. - - "Besides the former rules for such as pleases - Of letting bloud to take more observation; - . . . . . - To old, to young, both letting blood displeases. - By yeares and sickness make your computation. - First in the spring for quantity you shall - Of bloud take twice as much as in the fall; - In spring and summer let the right arme bloud, - The fall and winter for the left are good." - -Wadd mentions an old surgical writer who divides his chapter on -bleeding under such heads as the following:--1. What is to limit -bleeding? 2. Qualities of an able phlebotomist; 3. Of the choice of -instruments; 4. Of the band and bolster; 5. Of porringers; 6. -_Circumstances to be considered at the bleeding of a Prince._ - -Simon Harward's "Phlebotomy, or Treatise of Letting of Bloud; fitly -serving, as well for an advertisement and remembrance to all -well-minded chirurgians, as well also to give a caveat generally to -all men to beware of the manifold dangers which may ensue upon rash -and unadvised letting of bloud," published in the year 1601, contains -much interesting matter on the subject of which it treats. But a yet -more amusing work is one that Nicholas Gyer wrote and published in -1592, under the following title:-- - -"The English Phlebotomy; or, Method and Way of Healing by Letting of -Bloud." - -On the title-page is a motto taken from the book of Proverbs--"The -horse-leach hath two daughters, which crye, 'give, give.'" - -[Illustration: _THE FOUNDERS OF THE MEDICAL SOCIETY OF LONDON_] - -The work affords some valuable insight into the social status of the -profession in the sixteenth century. - -In his dedicatory letter to Master Reginald Scot, Esquire, the author -says that phlebotomy "is greatly abused by vagabund horse-leaches -and travailing tinkers, who find work almost in every village through -whom it comes (having in truth neither knowledge, nor witte, nor -honesty), the sober practitioner and cunning chirurgian liveth basely, -is despised, and accounted a very abject amongst the vulgar sort." Of -the medical skill of Sir Thomas Eliot, and Drs. Bulleyn, Turner, -Penie, and Coldwel, the author speaks in terms of warm eulogy; but as -for the tinkers aforementioned, he would regard them as murderers, and -"truss them up at Tyborne." - -Gyer, who indulges in continual reference to the "Schola Salerni," -makes the following contribution to the printed metrical literature on -Venesection:-- - - "_Certaine very old English verses, concerning the veines - and letting of bloud, taken out of a very auncient paper - book of Phisicke notes_:-- - - "Ye maisters that usen bloud-letting, - And therewith getten your living; - Here may you learn wisdome good, - In what place ye shall let bloud. - For man, in woman, or in child, - For evils that he wood and wild. - There beene veynes thirty-and-two, - For wile is many, that must he undo. - Sixteene in the head full right, - And sixteene beneath I you plight. - In what place they shall be found, - I shall you tell in what stound. - Beside the eares there beene two, - That on a child mote beene undoe; - To keep his head from evil turning - And from the scale withouten letting. - And two at the temples must bleede, - For stopping and aking I reede; - And one is in the mid forehead, - For Lepry or for sawcefleme that mote bleede. - Above the nose forsooth is one, - That for the frensie mote be undone. - Also when the eien been sore, - For the red gowt evermore. - And two other be at the eien end. - If thy bleeden them to amend. - And the arch that comes thorow smoking, - I you tell withouten leasing. - And at the whole of the throat, there beene two, - That Lepry and straight breath will undoo. - In the lips foure there beene, - Able to bleede I tell it be deene, - Two beneath, and above also - I tell thee there beene two. - For soreness of the mouth to bleede, - When it is flawne as I thee reede. - And two in the tongue withouten lie, - Mote bleede for the quinancie. - And when the tongue is aught aking, - For all manner of swelling. - Now have I tolde of certaine, - That longer for the head I weene, - And of as many I will say, - That else where there beene in fay. - In every arme there beene fife, - Full good to blede for man and wife, - _Cephalica_ is one I wis, - The head veyne he cleaped is, - The body above and the head; - He cleanseth for evil and qued. - In the bought of the arme also, - An order there must he undoo; - Basilica his name is, - Lowest he sitteth there y wis; - Forsooth he cleanseth the liver aright, - And all other members beneath I twight. - The middle is between the two, - Corall he is clipped also - That veine cleanseth withouten doubt; - Above and beneath, within and without. - For Basilica that I of told, - One braunched veine ety up full bold, - To the thomb goeth that one braunch; - The cardiacle he wil staunch, - That there braunch full right goeth, - To the little finger withouten oth; - _Saluatell_ is his name, - He is a veine of noble fame; - There is no veine that cleanseth so clene, - The stopping of the liver and splene. - Above the knuckles of the feet, - With two veines may thou meet, - Within sitteth _Domestica_, - And without _Saluatica_. - . . . . . - All the veines thee have I told, - That cleanseth man both yong and old. - If thou use them at thy need, - These foresaid evils they dare not dread; - So that our Lord be them helping, - That all hath in his governing. - So mote it be, so say all wee, - Amen, amen, for charitee." - -To bleed on May-day is still the custom with ignorant people in a few -remote districts. The system of vernal minutions probably arose from -that tendency in most men to repeat an act (simply because they have -done it once) until it has become a habit, and then superstitiously to -persevere in the habit, simply because it is a habit. How many aged -people read certain antiquated journals, as they wear exploded -garments, for no other reason than that they read the same sort of -literature, and wore the same sort of habiliments, when young. To miss -for once the performance of a periodically recurring duty, and so to -break a series of achievements, would worry many persons, as the -intermitted post caused Dr. Johnson discomfort till he had returned -and touched it. As early as the sixteenth century, we have Gyer -combating the folly of people having recourse to periodic -venesections. "There cometh to my minde," he says, "a common opinion -among the ignorant people, which do certainly beleeve that, if any -person be let bloud one yere, he must be let bloud every yere, or else -he is (I cannot tell, nor they neither) in how great danger. Which -fonde opinion of theirs, whereof soever the same sprong first, it is -no more like to be true, than if I should say: when a man hath -received a great wound by chaunce in any part of his body, whereby he -loseth much bloud; yet after it is healed, he must needs have the like -wounde againe there the next yeare, to avoid as much bloud, or els he -is in daunger of great sickness, yea, and also in hazard to lose his -life." - -The practitioners of phlebotomy, and the fees paid for the operation, -have differed widely. In the middle of the last century a woman used -the lancet with great benefit to her own pocket, if not to her -patients, in Marshland, in the county of Norfolk. What her charge was -is unknown, probably, however, only a few pence. A distinguished -personage of the same period (Lord Radnor) had a great fondness for -letting the blood (at the point of an amicable lancet--not a hostile -sword) of his friends. But his Lordship, far from accepting a fee, was -willing to remunerate those who had the courage to submit to his -surgical care. Lord Chesterfield, wanting an additional vote for a -coming division in the House of Peers, called on Lord Radnor, and, -after a little introductory conversation, complained of a distressing -headache. - -"You ought to lose blood then," said Lord Radnor. - -"Gad--do you indeed think so? Then, my dear lord, do add to the -service of your advice by performing the operation. I know you are a -most skilful surgeon." - -Delighted at the compliment, Lord Radnor in a trice pulled out his -lancet-case, and opened a vein in his friend's arm. - -"By-the-by," asked the patient, as his arm was being adroitly bound -up, "do you go down to the House to-day?" - -"I had not intended going," answered the noble operator, "not being -sufficiently informed on the question which is to be debated; but you, -that have considered it, which side will you vote on?" - -In reply, Lord Chesterfield unfolded his view of the case; and Lord -Radnor was so delighted with the reasoning of the man (who held his -surgical powers in such high estimation), that he forthwith promised -to support the wily earl's side in the division. - -"I have shed my blood for the good of my country," said Lord -Chesterfield that evening to a party of friends, who, on hearing the -story, were convulsed with laughter. - -Steele tells of a phlebotomist who advertised, for the good of -mankind, to bleed at "threepence per head." Trade competition has, -however, induced practitioners to perform the operation even without -"the threepence." In the _Stamford Mercury_ for March 28, 1716, the -following announcement was made:--"Whereas the majority of -apothecaries in Boston have agreed to pull down the price of bleeding -to sixpence, let these certifie that Mr Clarke, apothecary, will bleed -anybody at his shop _gratis_." - -The readers of Smollett may remember in one of his novels the story of -a gentleman, who, falling down in his club in an apoplectic fit, was -immediately made the subject of a bet between two friendly bystanders. -The odds were given and accepted against the sick man's recovery, and -the wager was duly registered, when a suggestion was made by a more -humane spectator that a surgeon ought to be sent for. "Stay," -exclaimed the good fellow interested in having a fatal result to the -attack, "if he is let blood, or interfered with in any way, the bet -doesn't hold good." This humorous anecdote may be found related as an -actual occurrence in Horace Walpole's works. It was doubtless one of -the "good stories" current in society, and was so completely public -property, that the novelist deemed himself entitled to use it as he -liked. In certain recent books of "ana" the incident is fixed on -Sheridan and the Prince Regent, who are represented as the parties to -the bet. - -Elsewhere mention has been made of a thousand pounds _ordered_ to be -paid Sir Edmund King for promptly bleeding Charles the Second. A -nobler fee was given by a French lady to a surgeon, who used his -lancet so clumsily that he cut an artery instead of a vein, in -consequence of which the lady died. On her death-bed she, with -charming humanity and irony, made a will, bequeathing the operator a -life annuity of eight hundred livres, on condition "that he never -again bled anybody so long as he lived." In the _Journal -Encylopedique_ of Jan. 15, 1773, a somewhat similar story is told of a -Polish princess, who lost her life in the same way. In her will, made -_in extremis_, there was the following clause:--"Convinced of the -injury that my unfortunate accident will occasion to the unhappy -surgeon who is the cause of my death, I bequeath to him a life annuity -of two hundred ducats, secured by my estate, and forgive his mistake -from my heart: I wish this may indemnify him for the discredit which -my sorrowful catastrophe will bring upon him." - -A famous French Marechal reproved the clumsiness of a phlebotomist in -a less gratifying manner. Drawing himself away from the bungling -operator, just as the incision was about to be made, he displayed an -unwillingness to put himself further in the power of a practitioner, -who, in affixing the fillet, had given him a blow with the elbow in -the face. - -"My Lord," said the surgeon, "it seems that you are afraid of the -bleeding." - -"No," returned the Marechal, "not of the bleeding--but the bleeder." - -Monsieur, brother of Louis XIV., had an insuperable aversion to the -operation, however dexterous might be the operator. At Marly, while at -table with the King, he was visited with such ominous symptoms, that -Fochon, the first physician of the court, said--"You are threatened -with apoplexy, and you cannot be too soon blooded." - -But the advice was not acted on, though the King entreated that it -might be complied with. - -"You will find," said Louis, "what your obstinacy will cost you. We -shall be awoke some of these nights to be told that you are dead." - -The royal prediction, though not fulfilled to the letter, soon proved -substantially true. After a gay supper at St. Cloud, Monsieur, just as -he was about to retire to bed, quitted the world. He was asking M. de -Ventadour for a glass of liqueur sent him by the Duke of Savoy, when -he dropped down dead. Anyhow Monsieur went out of this life thinking -of something nice. The Marquis of Hertford, with all his -deliberation, could not do more. - -The excess to which the practice of venesection was carried in the -last century is almost beyond belief. The _Mercure de France_ (April, -1728, and December, 1729) gives the particulars of the illness of a -woman named Gignault. She was aged 24 years, was the wife of an -hussar, and resided at St. Sauge, a town of the Nivernois. Under the -direction of Monsieur Theveneau, Seigneur de Palmery, M.D., of St. -Sauge, she was bled three thousand nine hundred and four times in nine -months (_i. e._ from the 6th of September, 1726, to the 3rd of June, -1727). By the 15th of July, in the same year, the bleedings numbered -four thousand five hundred and fifty-five. From the 6th of September, -1726, to the 1st of December, 1729, the blood-lettings amounted to -twenty-six thousand two hundred and thirty. Did this really occur? Or -was the editor of the _Mercure de France_ the original Baron -Munchausen? - -Such an account as the above ranges us on the side of the German -physician, who petitioned that the use of the lancet might be made -penal. Garth's epigram runs:-- - - "Like a pert skuller, one physician plies, - And all his art and all his skill he tries; - But two physicians, like a pair of oars, - Conduct you faster to the Stygian shores." - -It would, however, be difficult to imagine a quicker method to destroy -human life than that pursued by Monsieur Theveneau. A second adviser -could hardly have accelerated his movements, or increased his -determination not to leave his reduced patient a chance of recovery. - -"A rascal," exclaimed a stout, asthmatic old gentleman, to a -well-dressed stranger on Holborn Hill--"a rascal has stolen my hat. I -tried to overtake him--and I'm--so--out of breath--I can't stir -another inch." The stranger eyed the old gentleman, who was panting -and gasping for hard life, and then pleasantly observing, "Then I'm -hanged, old boy, if I don't have your wig," scampered off, leaving his -victim bald as a baby. M. Theveneau was the two thieves in one. He -first brought his victim to a state of helplessness, and then "carried -out his little system." It would be difficult to assign a proper -punishment to such a stupid destroyer of human life. Formerly, in the -duchy of Wurtemberg, the public executioner, after having sent out of -the world a certain number of his fellow-creatures, was dignified with -the degree of doctor of physic. It would not be otherwise than well to -confer on such murderous physicians as M. Theveneau the honorary rank -of hangman extraordinary. - -The incomes that have been realized by blood-letting alone are not -less than those which, in the present day, are realized by the -administration of chloroform. An eminent phlebotomist, not very many -years since, made a thousand per annum by the lancet. - -About blood-letting--by the lancet, leeches, and cupping (or _boxing_, -as it was called in Elizabeth's days, and much later)--the curious can -obtain many interesting particulars in our old friend Bulleyn's works. - -To open a vein has for several generations been looked on as beneath -the dignity of the leading professors of medicine or surgery. In some -cases phlebotomy was practised as a sort of specialty by surgeons of -recognised character: but generally, at the close of the last century, -it was left, as a branch of practice, in the hands of the apothecary. -The occasions on which physicians have of late years used the lancet -are so few, that it is almost a contribution to medical gossip to -bring up a new instance. One of the more recent cases of a notability -being let blood by a physician, was when Sir Lucas Pepys, on Oct. 2, -1806, bled the Princess of Wales. On that day, as her Royal Highness -was proceeding to Norbury Park, to visit Mr. Locke, in a barouche -drawn by four horses, the carriage was upset at Leatherhead. Of the -two ladies who accompanied the Princess, one (Lady Sheffield) escaped -without a bruise, but the other (Miss Cholmondley) was thrown to the -ground and killed on the spot. The injuries sustained by the Princess -were very slight, but Sir Lucas Pepys, who luckily happened to be in -the neighbourhood at the time of the accident, bled her on his own -responsibility, and with his own hand. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -RICHARD MEAD. - - -"Dr. Mead," observed Samuel Johnson, "lived more in the broad sunshine -of life than almost any man." - -Unquestionably the lot of Richard Mead was an enviable one. Without -any high advantages of birth or fortune, or aristocratic connection, -he achieved a European popularity; and in the capital of his own -country had a social position that has been surpassed by no member of -his profession. To the sunshine in which Mead basked, the -lexicographer contributed a few rays; for when James published his -Medicinal Dictionary, the prefatory letter to Mead, affixed to the -work, was composed by Johnson in his most felicitous style. - -"Sir,--That the Medicinal Dictionary is dedicated to you, is to be -imputed only to your reputation for superior skill in those sciences -which I have endeavoured to explain and to facilitate; and you are, -therefore, to consider the address, if it be agreeable to you, as one -of the rewards of merit; and, if otherwise, as one of the -inconveniences of eminence. - -"However you shall receive it, my design cannot be disappointed; -because this public appeal to your judgment will show that I do not -found my hopes of approbation upon the ignorance of my readers, and -that I fear his censure least whose knowledge is the most extensive. I -am, sir, your most obedient humble servant,--R. JAMES." - -But the sunshine did not come to Mead. He attracted it. Polished, -courtly, adroit, and of an equable temper, he seemed pleased with -everybody, and so made everybody pleased with him. Throughout life he -was a Whig--staunch and unswerving, notwithstanding the charges -brought against him by obscure enemies of being a luke-warm supporter -of the constitutional, and a subservient worshipper of the -monarchical, party. And yet his intimate friends were of the adverse -faction. The overbearing, insolent, prejudiced Radcliffe forgave him -his scholarship and politics, and did his utmost to advance his -interests. - -Mead's family was a respectable one in Buckinghamshire. His father was -a theological writer, and one of the two ministers of Stepney, but was -ejected from his preferment for non-conformity on the 24th of August, -1662. Fortunately the dispossessed clerk had a private fortune on -which to maintain his fifteen children, of whom Richard, the eleventh, -was born on the eleventh of August, 1673. The first years of Richard's -life were spent at Stepney, where the Rev. Matthew Mead continued to -minister to a noncomformist congregation, keeping in house Mr. John -Nesbitt, afterwards a conspicuous nonconformist minister, as tutor to -his children. In 1683 or 1684, it being suspected that Mr. Mead was -concerned in certain designs against the government, the worthy man -had to quit his flock and escape from the emissaries of power to -Holland. During the father's residence abroad, Richard was sent to a -classical school kept in Clerkenwell Close, by the nonconformist, -Thomas Singleton, who had formerly been second master of Eton. It was -under this gentleman's tuition that the boy acquired a sound and -extensive knowledge of Latin and Greek. In 1690 he went to Utrecht; -and after studying there for three years, proceeded to Leyden, where -he studied botany and physic. His academical studies concluded, he -travelled with David Polhill and Dr. Thomas Pellet, afterwards -President of the College of Physicians, through Italy, stopping at -Florence, Padua, Naples, and Rome. In the middle of 1696 he returned -to London, with stores of information, refined manners, and a degree -of Doctor of Philosophy and Physic, conferred on him at Padua, on the -sixteenth of August, 1695. Settling at Stepney, and uniting himself -closely with the nonconformists, he commenced the practice of his -profession, in which he rapidly advanced to success. On the ninth of -May, 1703, before he was thirty years of age, he was chosen physician -of St. Thomas's Hospital, in Southwark. On obtaining this preferment -he took a house in Crutched Friars, and year by year increased the -sphere of his operations. In 1711 he moved to Austin Friars, to the -house just vacated by the death of Dr. Howe. The consequences of this -step taught him the value, to a rising doctor, of a house with a good -reputation. Many of Howe's patients had got into a habit of coming to -the house as much as to the physician, and Mead was only too glad to -feel their pulses and flatter them into good humour, sound health, and -the laudable custom of paying double fees. He was appointed Lecturer -on Anatomy to the Company of Barbers and Surgeons. - -He kept himself well before the public, as an author, with his -"Mechanical Account of Poisons," published in 1702; and his treatise -(1704), "De Imperio Solis et Lunae in Corpora humana, et Morbis inde -oriundis." He became a member of the Royal Society; and, in 1707, he -received his M.D. diploma from Oxford, and his admission to the -fellowship of the College of Physicians. - -It has already been stated how Radcliffe engaged to introduce Mead to -his patients. When Queen Anne was on her death-bed, the young -physician was of importance enough to be summoned to the couch of -dying royalty. The physicians who surrounded the expiring queen were -afraid to say what they all knew. The Jacobites wanted to gain time, -to push off the announcement of the queen's state to the last possible -moment, so that the Hanoverians should not be able to take steps for -quietly securing the succession which they desired. Mead, however, was -too earnest a Whig to sacrifice what he believed to be the true -interests of the country to any considerations of the private -advantage that might be derived by currying favour with the Tory -magnates, who, hovering about the Court, were debating how they could -best make their game. Possibly his hopes emboldened him to speak the -truth. Anyhow, he declared, on his first visit, that the queen would -not live an hour. Charles Ford, writing to Swift, said, "This morning -when I went there before nine, they told me she was just expiring. -That account continued above three hours, and a report was carried to -town that she was actually dead. She was not prayed for even in her -own chapel at St. James's; and, _what is more infamous (!)_ stocks -arose three _per cent._ upon it in the city. Before I came away, she -had recovered a warmth in her breast and one of her arms; and all the -doctors agreed she would, in all probability, hold out till -to-morrow--_except Mead, who pronounced, several hours before, she -could not live two minutes, and seems uneasy it did not happen so_." -This was the tone universally adopted by the Jacobites. According to -them, poor Queen Anne had hard measure dealt out to her by her -physicians;--the Tory Radcliffe negatively murdered her by not saving -her; the Whig Mead earnestly desired her death. Certainly the -Jacobites had no reason to speak well of Mead, for the ready courage -with which he stated the queen's demise to be at hand gave a -disastrous blow to their case, and did much to seat George I. quietly -on the throne. Miss Strickland observes, "It has always been -considered that the prompt boldness of this political physician (_i. -e._ Mead) occasioned the peaceable proclamation of George I. The -queen's demise in one hour was confidently predicted by her Whig -doctor. He was often taunted afterwards with the chagrin his -countenance expressed when the royal patient, on being again blooded, -recovered her speech and senses." - -On the death of Radcliffe, the best part of his empire descended to -Mead, who, having already reaped the benefit of occupying the nest -which Howe vacated at the summons of death, wisely resolved to take -possession of Radcliffe's vacated mansion in Bloomsbury Square. This -removal from Austin Friars to the more fashionable quarter of town was -effected without delay. Indeed, Radcliffe was not buried when Mead -entered his house. As his practice lay now more in the West than the -East end of town, the prosperous physician resigned his appointment at -St. Thomas's, and, receiving the thanks of the grand committee for his -services, was presented with the staff of a governor of the charity. -Radcliffe's practice and house were not the only possessions of that -sagacious practitioner which Mead contrived to acquire. Into his hands -also passed the doctor's gold-headed cane of office. This wand became -the property successively of Radcliffe, Askew, Pitcairn, and Baillie, -the arms of all which celebrated physicians are engraved on its head. -On the death of Dr. Baillie, Mrs. Baillie presented the cane, as an -interesting professional relic, to the College of Physicians, in the -library of which august and learned body it is now preserved. Some -years since the late respected Dr. Macmichael made the adventures of -this stick the subject of an agreeable little book, which was -published under the title of "The Gold-Headed Cane." - -The largest income Mead ever made in one year was L7000. For several -years he received between L5000 and L6000 per annum. When the great -depreciation of the currency is taken into account, one may affirm, -with little fear of contradiction, that no living physician is at the -present time earning as much. Mead, however, made his income without -any avaricious or stingy practices. In every respect he displayed -that generosity which has for generations been the glorious -distinction of his profession. At home his fee was a guinea. When he -visited a patient of good rank and condition, in consultation or -otherwise, he expected to have two guineas, or even more. But to the -apothecaries who waited on him at his coffee-houses, he charged (like -Radcliffe) only half-a-guinea for prescriptions, written without -seeing the patient. His evening coffee-house was Batson's, frequented -by the profession even down to Sir William Blizard; and in the -forenoons he received apothecaries at Tom's, near Covent Garden. In -Mead's time the clergy, as a body, were unable to pay the demands -which professional etiquette would have required the physician to make -on them if he had any. It is still the humane custom of physicians and -eminent surgeons not to accept fees from curates, half-pay officers in -the army and navy, and men of letters; and no one has more reason than -the writer of these pages to feel grateful for the delicacy with which -they act on this rule, and the benevolent zeal with which they seem -anxious to drown the sense of obligation (which a gratuitous patient -necessarily experiences) in increased attention and kindness, as if -their good deeds were a peculiar source of pleasure to themselves. - -But in the last century the beneficed clergy were in a very different -pecuniary condition from that which they at present enjoy. Till the -Tithe Communication Act passed, the parson (unless he was a sharp man -of business, shrewd and unscrupulous as a horse-jobber, and ready to -have an unintermittent war with his parishioners) never received -anything like what he was entitled to of the produce of the land. -Often he did not get half his dues; and even when he did obtain a fair -tithe, his receipts were small compared with what his successor in the -present generation has from the same source. Agriculture was then in -such a backward state, and land was so ill-cultivated, that the rector -of a large parish of good land was justly entitled only to a sum that -a modern rent-charge holder would regard with painful surprise if told -that he might take nothing more for his share in the fruits of the -earth. The beneficed clergy were a comparatively poor body. The curate -perhaps was not in a worse state than he is in now, for the simple -reason that a worse can hardly be. To add to the impoverished -appearance of the clerical profession, there existed in every capital -and country town the luckless nonconforming clergy, bereft of the -emoluments of their vocation, and often reduced to a condition -scarcely--if at all--removed from begging. The title of _Reverend_ was -still affixed to their names--their costume was still that of their -order--and by large masses of the people they were regarded with more -reverence and affection than the well-fed Vicars of Bray, who, with -mealy mouths and elastic consciences, saw only the butter on one side -of their bread, and not the dirt on the other. Archbishop Sancroft -died on his little farm in Suffolk, having for years subsisted on -about fifty pounds a-year. When such was the fate of an Archbishop of -Canterbury, the straits to which the ejected vicars or disabled -curates were brought can be imagined--but scarcely described. In the -great towns these unfortunate gentlemen swarmed, gaining a wretched -subsistence as ushers in schools, tutors, secretaries--not -unfrequently as domestic servants. - -In such a condition of the established church, the rule of never -taking money from "the cloth" was almost invariably observed by the -members of the medical profession. - -Mead once--and only once--departed from this rule. Mr. Robert Leake, a -fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge, called on the doctor and -sought his advice. The patient's ill-health had been in a great degree -effected by doctoring himself--that is, exhibiting, according to his -own notions of medical practice, some of Dr. Cheyne's prescriptions. - -"Do as I tell you," said Mead, "and I'll set you up again." - -For a time Leake cheerfully obeyed; but soon--although his case was -progressing most favourably--he had the bad taste to suggest that a -recurrence to some of Cheyne's prescriptions would be advisable. Mead, -of course, was not pleased with such folly, but continued his -attendance till his patient's health was restored. Leake then went -through the form of asking to what amount he was in the physician's -debt. - -"Sir," answered Mead, "I have never yet, in the whole course of my -practice, taken or demanded the least fee from any clergyman; but, -since you have been pleased, contrary to what I have met with in any -other gentleman of your profession, to prescribe to me rather than -follow my prescriptions, when you had committed the care of your -recovery to my skill and trust, you must not take it amiss, nor will, -I hope, think it unfair, if I demand ten guineas of you." - -With much reluctance, and a wry face, Leake paid the money, but the -doctor subsequently returned him more than half of it. - -Of course Mead did not gain the prize of his profession without a few -rough contests with competitors in the race of honour. Woodward, the -Professor of Physic at the Gresham College, attacked him with -bitterness in his "State of Physic and Diseases," and made himself -even more obnoxious in his personal demeanour to him in public. Some -insult offered to him by Woodward so infuriated Mead, that the latter -drew his sword and ordered his adversary to defend himself. The duel -terminated in Mead's favour, as far as martial prowess was concerned, -for he disarmed Woodward and ordered him to beg for his life. - -"Never, till I am your patient," answered Woodward, happily. - -The memory of this AEsculapian battle is preserved in an engraving in -Ward's "Lives of the Gresham Professors." The picture is a view of -Gresham Street College, with a gateway entering from Broad Street, -marked 25, within which Woodward is represented as kneeling and -submissively yielding his sword to Mead. Ward was one of Mead's -warmest friends, and certainly on this occasion displayed his -friendship in a very graceful and effective manner. - -The doctor would gladly have never had to deal with a more dangerous -antagonist than Woodward; but the time came when he had to run for -safety, and that too from a woman. He was in attendance by the -bed-side of the Duke of Marlborough, who was suffering from -indisposition, when her Grace--the celebrated Sarah--flew into a -violent rage at some remark which the physician had dared to make. She -even threatened him with personal chastisement, and was proceeding to -carry out her menaces, when Mead, recognizing the peril of his -position, turned and fled from the room. The duchess ran after him, -and, pursuing him down the grand staircase, vowed she would pull off -his wig, and dash it in his face. The doctor luckily was a better -runner than her Grace, and escaped. - -Envy is the shadow of success, and detraction is the echo of its -voice. A host of pamphleteers, with just courage enough to print lies, -to which they had not the spirit to affix their obscure names, hissed -their malignity at the fortunate doctor. The members of the Faculty, -accustomed though they are to the jealousies and animosities which are -important undercurrents in every fraternity, would in these days -scarcely credit the accounts which could be given of the coarseness -and baseness of the anonymous rascals who lampooned Mead. It is -painful to know that some of the worst offenders were themselves -physicians. In 1722, appeared "The Art of getting into Practice in -Physick, here at present in London. In a letter to that very ingenious -and most learned Physician (Lately come to Town), Dr Timothy -Vanbustle, M.D.--A.B.C.," the writer of this satire attributes to the -dead Radcliffe the practices to which Hannes was accused of having -resorted. "Thus the famous R----fe, 'tis said, on his first arrival, -had half the porters in town employed to call for him at all the -coffee-houses and public places, so that his name might be known." The -sting of the publication, the authorship of which by a strange error -has been attributed _to_ Mead, is throughout directed _at_ him. It is -more than suggested that he, to creep up into practice, had associated -in early life with "women, midwives, nurses, and apothecaries," and -that he had interested motives for being very gentle "in taking fees -of the clergy, of whatsoever sect or opinion." Here is a stab that the -reader of the foregoing pages can appreciate: "As to _Nostrums_, I -cannot much encourage you to trade in these if you would propose to -get universal business; for though they may serve to make you known at -first, particularly in such a way, yet it will not promote general -business, but on the contrary. _I rather therefore would advise you to -court, flatter, and chime in with the chief in Play, and luckily a -noted practitioner should drop, do you be as sure and ready to get -into his house as he is into his coffin._" - -More scandal of this sort may be found in "An account of a Strange and -Wonderful Dream. Dedicated to Doctor M----d," published 1719. It is -insinuated in the dream that his Latin writings were not his own -composition. The troubles of his domestic life are dragged before the -public. "It unluckily happen'd that, just as Mulso discovered his -wife's intrigues, his effects were seized on by his creditors, his -chariot and horses were sold, and he himself reduced to the state of a -foot-quack. In this condition he had continued to this day, had he not -been retrieved from poverty and contempt by the recommendation of a -physician of great note. Upon this he spruced up, looked gay, roll'd -about in a chariot. At this time he fell ill of the _scribendi -cacoethes_, and, by the help of two mathematicians and an usher, was -delivered of a book in a learned language." - -Mead did not long occupy Radcliffe's house in Bloomsbury Square. In -1719 he moved to the imposing residence in Ormond Street, to which in -1732 he added a gallery for the accommodation of his library and -museum. - -Of Mead's various contributions to medical literature it is of course -not the province of this work to speak critically. The _Medica Sacra_ -is a literary curiosity, and so is the doctor's paper published in -1735, in which he recommends a compound of pepper and _lichen cinereus -terrestris_ as a specific against the bite of a mad dog. Dampier, the -traveller, used this lichen for the same purpose. The reader need not -be reminded of the popularity attained by this antidote, dividing the -public favour, as it did, with Dr. James's _Turpeth Mineral_, and the -_Musk_ and _Cinnabar_. - -Mead was married twice. His first wife was Ruth Marsh, the daughter of -a pious London tradesman. She died in 1719, twenty years after her -marriage, leaving behind her four children--three daughters, who all -married well, and one son, William Mead. If any reliance is to be -placed on the statements of the lampoon writers, the doctor was by no -means fortunate in this union. He married, however, a second -time--taking for his bride, when he was more than fifty years old, -Anne, the daughter of Sir Rowland Alston, of Odell, a Bedfordshire -baronet. - -One of the pleasant episodes in Mead's life is his conduct towards his -dear friend and political antagonist, Freind--the Jacobite physician, -and Member of Parliament for Launceston. On suspicion of being -concerned in the Atterbury plot, Freind was committed to the Tower. -During his confinement, that lasted some months, he employed himself -calmly on the composition of a Latin letter, "On certain kinds of -Small-Pox," and the "History of Physic, from the time of Galen to the -Commencement of the Sixteenth Century." Mead busied himself to obtain -his friend's release; and, being called to attend Sir Robert Walpole, -pleaded so forcibly for the prisoner, that the minister allowed him to -be discharged on bail--his sureties being Dr. Mead, Dr. Hulse, Dr. -Levet, and Dr. Hale. To celebrate the termination of Freind's -captivity, Mead called together on a sudden a large party in Ormond -Street, composed of men of all shades of opinion. Just as Freind was -about to take his leave for his own residence in Albemarle Street, -accompanied by Arbuthnot, who resided in Cork Street, Burlington -Gardens, Mead took him aside into a private room, and presented him -with a case containing the fees he had received from the Tory doctor's -patients during his imprisonment. They amounted to no less than five -thousand guineas. - -Mead's style of living was very liberal. From the outset to the close -of his career he was the companion of men whom it was an honour to -treat hospitably. He was the friend of Pope, Newton, and Bentley. His -doors were always open to every visitor who came from a foreign -country to these shores, with any claim whatever on the goodwill of -society. To be at the same time a patron of the arts, and a liberal -entertainer of many guests, demands no ordinary expenditure. Mead died -comparatively poor. The sale of his library, pictures, statues, and -curiosities, realized about L16,000, and he had other property -amounting to about L35,000; but, after the payment of his debts, not -more than L20,000 remained to be divided amongst his four children. -His only son, however, was amply provided for, having entered into the -possession of L30,000 under will of Dr. Mead's unmarried brother -Samuel, an eminent barrister, and a Commissioner of the Customs. - -Fortunate beyond fortunate men, Mead had the great misfortune of -living too long. His sight failed, and his powers underwent that -gradual decay which is the saddest of all possible conclusions to a -vigorous and dignified existence. Stories might be ferreted up of the -indignities to which he submitted at the hands of a domineering valet. -Long, however, before he sunk into second childhood, he excited the -ridicule of the town by his vanity, and absurd pretensions to be a -lady-killer. The extravagances of his amorous senility were whispered -about; and, eventually, some hateful fellow seized hold of the -unpleasant rumours, and published them in a scandalous novelette, -called "The Cornutor of Seventy-five; being a genuine narrative of the -Life, Adventures, and Amours of _Don Ricardo Honeywater_, Fellow of -the Royal College of Physicians at Madrid, Salamanca, and Toledo, and -President of the Academy of Sciences in Lapland; containing, amongst -other most diverting particulars, his intrigue with Donna Maria -W----s, of Via Vinculosa--_anglice_, Fetter Lane--in the city of -Madrid. Written, originally, in Spanish, by the Author of Don Quixot, -and translated into English by a Graduate of the College of Mecca, in -Arabia." The "Puella fabri," as Greenfield designates the damsel who -warmed the doctor's aged heart, was the daughter of a blacksmith in -Fetter Lane; and to please her, Mead--long past threescore years and -ten--went to Paris, and learnt dancing, under Dupre, giving as an -excuse that his health needed active muscular exercise. - -Dr. Mead died on February 16, 1754, in his eighty-first year. He was -buried in the Temple Church, by the side of his brother Samuel. His -memory has been honoured with busts and inscriptions--in Westminster -Abbey, and the College of Physicians. - -Mead was not the first of his name to enter the medical profession. -William George Meade was an eminent physician at Tunbridge Wells; and -dying there on the 4th of November, 1652, was buried at Ware, in -Hertfordshire. This gentleman left L5 a-year for ever to the poor; but -he is more remarkable for longevity than generosity. He died at the -extraordinary age of 148 years and nine months. This is one of the -most astonishing instances of longevity on record. Old Parr, dying at -152 years of age, exceeded it only by 4 years. The celebrated Countess -Desmond was some years more than 140 at the time of her death. Henry -Read, minister of Hardwicke, Co. Northampton, numbered only 132 years; -and the Lancashire woman (the _Cricket of the Hedge_) did not outlive -the 141st year. But all these ages become insignificant when put by -the side of the 169 years to which Henry Jenkins protracted his -earthly sojourn. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -IMAGINATION AS A REMEDIAL POWER. - - -Astrology, alchemy, the once general belief in the healing effects of -the royal touch, the use of charms and amulets, and mesmerism, are -only various exhibitions of one superstition, having for their essence -the same little grain of truth, and for their outward expression -different forms of error. Disconnected as they appear at first sight, -a brief examination discovers the common features which prove them to -be of one family. By turns they have--each of them--given humiliating -evidence of the irrational extravagances that reasoning creatures are -capable of committing; and each of them, also, has conferred some -benefits on mankind. The gibberish of Geber, and the alchemists who -preceded and followed him, led to the study of chemistry, the utility -and importance of which science we have only begun rightly to -appreciate; and a curiosity about the foolishness of astrology led Sir -Isaac Newton to his astronomical inquiries. Lord Bacon says--"The sons -of chemistry, while they are busy seeking the hidden gold--whether -real or not--have by turning over and trying, brought much profit and -convenience to mankind." And if the delusions of talismans, amulets, -and charms, and the impostures of Mesmer, have had no greater -consequences, they have at least afforded, to the observant and -reflective, much valuable instruction with regard to the constitution -of the human mind. - -In the history of these superstitions we have to consider the -universal faith which men in all ages have entertained in planetary -influence, and which, so long as day and night, and the moon and tides -endure, few will be found so ignorant or so insensible as to question. -The grand end of alchemy was to transmute the base metals into gold; -and it proposed to achieve this by obtaining possession of the -different fires transmitted by the heavenly bodies to our planet, and -subjecting, according to a mysterious system, the comparatively -worthless substances of the mineral world to the forces of these -fires. - -"Now," says Paracelsus, in his "Secrets of Alchemy," "we come to -speake of a manifold spirit or fire, which is the cause of variety and -diversity of creatures, so that there cannot one be found right like -another, and the same in every part; as it may be seen in metals, of -which there is none which hath another like itself; the _Sun_ -produceth his gold; the _Moon_ produceth another metal far different, -to wit, silver; _Mars_ another, that is to say, iron; _Jupiter_ -produceth another kind of metal to wit, tin; _Venus_ another, which is -copper; and _Saturn_ another kind, that is to say, lead: so that they -are all unlike, and several one from another; the same appeareth to be -as well amongst men as all other creatures, the cause whereof is the -multiplicity of fire.... Where there is no great mixture of the -elements, the Sun bringeth forth; where it is a little more thick, the -Moon; where more gross, Venus; and thus, according to the diversity of -mixtures, are produced divers metals; so that no metal appeared in the -same mine like another." - -This, which is an extract from Turner's translation of Paracelsus's -"Secrets of Alchemy" (published in 1655), may be taken as a fair -sample of the jargon of alchemy. - -The same faith in planetary influence was the grand feature of -astrology, which regarded all natural phenomena as the effects of the -stars acting upon the earth. Diseases of all kinds were referable to -the heavenly bodies; and so, also, were the properties of those herbs -or other objects which were believed in as remedial agents. In ancient -medicine, pharmacy was at one period only the application of the -dreams of astrology to the vegetable world. The herb which put an ague -or madness to flight, did so by reason of a mystic power imparted to -it by a particular constellation, the outward signs of which quality -were to be found in its colour or aspect. Indeed, it was not enough -that "a simple," impregnated with curative power by heavenly beams, -should be culled; but it had to be culled at a particular period of -the year, at a particular day of the month, even at a particular hour, -when the irradiating source of its efficacy was supposed to be -affecting it with a peculiar force; and, moreover, it had to be -removed from the ground or the stem on which it grew with a particular -instrument or gesture of the body--a disregard of which forms would -have obviated the kindly influence of the particular star, without -whose benignant aid the physician and the drug were alike powerless. - -Medical practitioners smile now at the mention of these absurdities. -But many of them are ignorant that they, in their daily practice, help -to perpetuate the observance of one of these ridiculed forms. The sign -which every member of the Faculty puts before his prescriptions, and -which is very generally interpreted as an abbreviation for _Recipe_, -is but the astrological symbol of Jupiter. - -[Illustration: _AN ACCIDENT_] - -It was on this principle that a belief became prevalent that certain -objects, either of natural formation or constructed by the instruments -of art, had the power of counteracting noxious agents. An intimate -connection was supposed to exist between the form or colour of an -external substance and the use to which it ought to be put. Red -objects had a mysterious influence on inflammatory diseases; and -yellow ones had a similar power on those who were discoloured with -jaundice. Edward II.'s physician, John of Gaddesden, informs us, "When -the son of the renowned King of England lay sick of the small-pox, I -took care that everything round the bed should be of a red colour, -which succeeded so completely that the Prince was restored to perfect -health without a vestige of a pustule remaining." Even as late as -1765, this was put in practice to the Emperor Francis I. The earliest -talismans were natural objects, with a more or less striking external -character, imagined to have been impressed upon them by the planets of -whose influence they were especially susceptible, and of whose virtues -they were beyond all other substances the recipients. The amulet -(which differs little from the talisman, save in that it must be -worn suspended upon the person it is to protect, whereas the talisman -might be kept by its fortunate possessor locked up in his -treasure-house) had a like origin. - -But when once a superstitious regard was paid to the external marks of -a natural object, it was a short and easy step to produce the -semblances of the revered characters by an artificial process, and -then bestow on them the reverential feelings which had previously been -directed to their originals. The ordinary course taken by a -superstition in its degradation is one where its first sentiment -becomes lost to sight, and its form is dogmatically insisted on. It -was so in that phase of feticism which consisted in the blind reliance -put on artificial talismans and amulets. The original significance of -the talisman--the truth which was embodied in it as the emblem of the -unseen powers that had produced it, in accordance with natural -operations--was forgotten. The rows of lines and scratches, and the -variegations of its colour, were only thought of; and the cunning of -man--ever ready to make a god for himself--was exerted to improve upon -them. In the multitude of new devices came inscriptions of mystic -numbers, strange signs, agglomerations of figures, and scraps from -sacred rituals--Abraxas and Abracadabra, and the Fi-fo-fum nonsense of -the later charms. - -Creatures that were capable of detecting the influence of the -planetary system on that portion of Nature which is unquestionably -affected by it, and of imagining its presence in inanimate objects, -which, to use cautious language, have never been proved by science to -be sensible of such a power, of course magnified its consequences in -all that related to the human intellect and character. The instant in -which a man entered the world was regarded as the one when he was most -susceptible. Indeed, a babe was looked upon as a piece of warm and -pliant wax: and the particular planet which was in the ascendant when -the nurse placed the new child of Adam amongst the people of earth -stamped upon it a distinctive charactery. To be born under a -particular star was then an expression that meant something. On the -nature of the star it depended whether homunculus, squealing out its -first agonies, was to be morose or gentle, patient or choleric, lively -or saturnine, amorous or vindictive--a warrior or a poet--a dreamer or -a man of action. - -Laughing at the refinements of absurdity at which astrology had -arrived in his day, the author of "Hudibras" says:-- - - "There's but the twinkling of a star - Between a man of peace and war; - A thief and justice, fool and knave, - A huffing officer and slave; - A crafty lawyer and a pickpocket, - A great philosopher and a blockhead; - A formal preacher and a player, - A learned physician and manslayer. - As if men from stars did suck - Old age, diseases, and ill-luck, - Wit, folly, honour, virtue, vice, - Travel and women, trade and dice; - And draw, with the first air they breathe, - Battle and murder, sudden death. - Are not these fine commodities - To be imported from the skies, - And vended here amongst the rabble - For staple goods and warrantable?" - -Involved in this view of the universe was the doctrine that some -exceptional individuals were born far superior to the mass of their -fellow-creatures. Absurd as astrology was, still, its postulates -having once been granted, the logic was unassailable which argued that -those few on whose birth lucky stars had shone benignantly, had a -destiny and an organization distinct from those of ordinary mortals. -The dicta of modern liberalism, and the Transatlantic dogma that "all -men are by nature born equal," would have appeared to an orthodox -believer in this planetary religion nothing better than the ravings of -madness or impiety. Monarchs of men, whatever lowly station they at -first occupied in life, were exalted above others because they -possessed a distinctive excellence imparted to them at the hour of -birth by the silent rulers of the night. It was useless to strive -against such authority. To contend with it would have been to wrestle -with the Almighty--ever present in his peculiarly favoured creatures. - -Rulers being such, it was but natural for their servile worshippers to -believe them capable of imparting to others, by a glance of the eye or -a touch of the hand, an infinitesimal portion of the virtue that dwelt -within them. To be favoured with their smiles was to bask in sunshine -amid perfumes. To be visited with their frowns was to be chilled to -the marrow, and feel the hail come down like keen arrows from an angry -sky. To be touched by their robes was to receive new vigour. Hence -came credence in the miraculous power of the imposition of royal, or -otherwise sacred hands. Pyrrhus and Vespasian cured maladies by the -touch of their fingers; and, long before and after them, earthly -potentates and spiritual directors had, both in the East and the West, -to prove their title to authority by displaying the same faculty. - -In our own country more than in any other region of Christendom this -superstition found supporters. From Edward the Confessor down to Queen -Anne, who laid her healing hands on Samuel Johnson, it flourished; and -it was a rash man who, trusting to the blind guidance of human reason -dared to question that manifestation of the divinity which encircles -kingship. Doubtless the gift of money made to each person who was -touched did not tend to bring the cure into dis-esteem. It can be -easily credited that, out of the multitude who flocked to the presence -of Elizabeth and the Stuart kings for the benefit of their miraculous -manipulations, there were many shrewd vagabonds who had more faith in -the coin than in the touch bestowed upon them. The majority, however, -it cannot be doubted, were as sincere victims of delusion as those -who, at the close of the last century, believed in the efficacy of -metallic tractors, and those who now unconsciously expose their -intellectual infirmity as advocates of electro-biology and -spirit-rapping. The populace, as a body, unhesitatingly believed that -their sovereigns possessed this faculty as the anointed of the Lord. A -story is told of a Papist, who, much to his astonishment, was cured of -the king's evil by Elizabeth, after her final rupture with the court -of Rome. - -"Now I perceive," cried the man, "by plain experience that the -excommunication against the Queen is of no effect, since God hath -blessed her with such a gift." - -Nor would it be wise to suppose that none were benefited by the -treatment. The eagerness with which the vulgar crowd to a sight, and -the intense excitement with which London mobs witness a royal -procession to the houses of Parliament, or a Lord Mayor's pageant on -its way from the City to Westminster, may afford us some idea of the -inspiriting sensations experienced by a troop of wretches taken from -their kennels to Whitehall, and brought into personal contact with -their sovereign--their ideal of grandeur! Such a trip was a stimulus -to the nervous system, compared with which the shock of a galvanic -battery would have been but the tickling of a feather. And, over and -above this, was the influence of imagination, which in many ways may -become an agent for restoring the tone of the nervous system, and so -enabling Nature to overcome the obstacles of her healthy action. - -Montaigne admirably treated this subject in his essay, "Of the Force -of Imagination"; and his anecdote of the happy results derived by an -unfortunate nobleman from the use of a flat gold plate, graven with -celestial figures, must have occurred to many of his readers who have -witnessed the beneficial effects which are frequently produced by the -practices of quackery. - -"These apes' tricks," says Montaigne, "are the main cause of the -effect, our fancy being so far seduced as to believe that such strange -and uncouth formalities must of necessity proceed from some abstruse -science. Their very inanity gives them reverence and weight." - -And old Burton, touching, in his "Anatomy of Melancholy," on the -power of imagination, says, quaintly:-- - -"How can otherwise blear eyes in one man cause the like affection in -another? Why doth one man's yawning make another man yawn? Why do -witches and old women fascinate and bewitch children; but, as Wierus, -Paracelsus, Cardan, Migaldus, Valleriola, Caesar Vanninus, Campanella, -and many philosophers think, the forcible imagination of one party -moves and alters the spirits of the other. Nay more, they cause and -cure, not only diseases, maladies, and several infirmities by this -means, as 'Avicenna de Anim. 1. 4, sect. 4,' supposeth in parties -remote, but move bodies from their places, cause thunder, lightning, -tempests; which opinion Alkindus, Paracelsus, and some others approve -of." - -In this passage Burton touches not only on the effects of the -imagination, but also on the impression which the nervous energy of -one person may create upon the nervous sensibility of another. That -such an impression can be produced, no one can question who observes -the conduct of men in their ordinary relations to each other. By -whatever term we christen it--endeavouring to define either the cause -or its effect--we all concur in admitting that decision of character, -earnestness of manner, enthusiasm, a commanding aspect, a piercing -eye, or a strong will, exercise a manifest control over common -natures, whether they be acting separately or in masses. - -Of the men who, without learning, or an ennobling passion for truth, -or a high purpose of any kind, have, unaided by physical force, -commanded the attention and directed the actions of large numbers of -their fellow creatures, Mesmer is perhaps the most remarkable in -modern history. But we will not speak of him till we have paid a few -minutes' attention to one of his predecessors. - -The most notable forerunner of Mesmer in this country was Valentine -Greatrakes, who, in Charles the Second's reign, performed "severall -marvaillous cures by the stroaking of the hands." He was a gentleman -of condition, and, at first, the dupe of his own imagination rather -than a deliberate charlatan. He was born on the 14th of February, -1628, on his father's estate of Affane, in the County of Waterford, -and was, on both sides, of more than merely respectable extraction, -his father being a gentleman of good repute and property, and his -mother being a daughter of Sir Edward Harris, Knt, a Justice of the -King's Bench in Ireland. The first years of his school-life were -passed in the once famous Academy of Lismore; but when he had arrived -at thirteen years of age his mother (who had become a widow), on the -outbreak of the rebellion, fled with him and his little brothers and -sisters to England, where the fugitive family were hospitably -entertained by Mr. Edmund Harris, a gentleman of considerable -property, and one of the justice's sons. After concluding his -education in the family of one John Daniel Getseus, a High-German -minister of Stock Gabriel, in the County of Devon, Valentine returned -to Ireland, then distracted with tumult and armed rebellion; and, by -prudently joining the victorious side, re-entered on the possession of -his father's estate of Affane. He served for six years in Cromwell's -forces (from 1650 to 1656) as a lieutenant of the Munster Cavalry, -under the command of the Earl of Orrery. Valentine's commission was -in the earl's regiment; and, from the time of entering the army till -the close of his career is lost sight of, he seems to have enjoyed the -patronage and friendship of that nobleman's family. - -When the Munster horse was disbanded in 1656, Valentine retired to -Affane, and for a period occupied himself as an active and influential -country gentleman. He was made Clerk of the Peace for the County of -Cork, a Register for Transplantation, and a Justice of the Peace. In -the performance of the onerous duties which, in the then disturbed -state of Ireland, these offices brought upon him, he gained deserved -popularity and universal esteem. He was a frank and commanding -personage, of pleasant manners, gallant bearing, fine figure, and -singularly handsome face. With a hearty and musical voice, and a -national stock of high animal spirits, he was the delight of all -festive assemblies, taking his pleasure freely, but never to excess. -Indeed, Valentine was a devout man, not ashamed, in his own household, -and in his bearing to the outer world, to avow that it was his -intention to serve the Lord. But, though he had all the purity of -Puritanism, there was in him no taint of sectarian rancour or -uncharitableness. When an anonymous writer aspersed his reputation, he -responded--and no one could gainsay his words--with regard to his -public career:--"I studied so to acquit myself before God and man in -singleness and integrity of heart, that, to the comfort of my soul, -and praise of God that directed me, I can with confidence say I never -took bribe nor reward from any man, though I had many and great ones -before me (when I was Register for Transplantation); nor did I ever -connive at or suffer a malefactor to go unpunished, if the person were -guilty of any notorious crime (when I had power), nor did I ever take -the fee belonging to my office, if I found the person were injured, or -in want; nor did I ever commit any one for his judgment and conscience -barely, so it led him not to do anything to the disturbance of the -civil peace of the nation; nor did I take anything for my fee when he -was discharged--for I bless God he has taken away a persecuting spirit -from me, who would persuade all men to be Protestants, those -principles being most consonant to Truth and the Word of God, in my -judgment, and that profession which I have ever been of, and still -am.... Yet (though there were orders from the power that then was, to -all Justices of the Peace, for Transplanting all Papists that would -not go to church), I never molested any one that was known or esteemed -to be innocent, but suffered them to continue in the English quarters, -and that without prejudice. So that I can truly say, I never injured -any man for his conscience, conceiving that ought to be informed and -not enforced." - -On the Restoration, Valentine Greatrakes lost his offices, and was -reduced to the position of a mere private gentleman. His estate at -Affane was a small one; but he laboured on it with good results, -introducing into his neighbourhood a more scientific system of -agriculture than had previously been known there, and giving an -unprecedented quantity of employment to the poor. Perhaps he missed -the excitement of public business, and his energies, deprived of the -vent they had for many years enjoyed, preyed upon his sensitive -nature. Anyhow, he became the victim of his imagination, which, acting -on a mind that had been educated in a school of spiritual earnestness -and superstitious introspection, led him into a series of remarkable -hallucinations. He first had fits of pensiveness and dejection, -similar to those which tormented Cromwell ere his genius found for -itself a more fit field of display than the management of a brewery -and a few acres of marsh-land. Ere long he had an impulse, or a -strange persuasion in his own mind (of which he was not able to give -any rational account to another), which did very frequently suggest to -him that there was bestowed on him the gift of curing the King's Evil, -which for the extraordinariness of it, he thought fit to conceal for -some time, but, at length communicated to his wife, and told her, -"That he did verily believe that God had given him the blessing of -curing the King's Evil; for, whether he were in private or publick, -sleeping or waking, still he had the same impulse; but her reply was -to him, that she conceived this was a strange imagination." Such is -his statement. - -Patients either afflicted with King's Evil, or presumed to be so, were -in due course brought before him; and, on his touching them, they -recovered. It may be here remarked that in the days when the Royal -Touch was believed in as a cure for scrofula, the distinctions between -strumous and other swellings were by no means ascertained even by -physicians of repute; and numbers of those who underwent the -manipulation of Anointed Rulers were suffering only from aggravated -boils and common festering sores, from which, as a matter of course, -nature would in the space of a few weeks have relieved them. -Doubtless many of Valentine's patients were suffering, not under -scrofulous affections, but comparatively innocent tumours; for his -cures were rapid, complete, and numerous. A second impulse gave him -the power of curing ague; and a third inspiration of celestial aura -imparted to him command, under certain conditions, over all human -diseases. His modes of operation were various. When an afflicted -person was laid before him, he usually offered up a prayer to God to -help him, to make him the humble instrument of divine mercy. And -invariably when a patient derived benefit from his treatment, he -exhorted him to offer up his thanks to his Heavenly Father. After the -initiatory supplication the operator passed his hands over the -affected part of the sick person's body, sometimes over the skin -itself and sometimes over the clothes. The manipulations varied in -muscular force from delicate tickling to violent rubbing, according to -the nature of the evil spirits by which the diseased people were -tormented. Greatrakes's theory of disease was the scriptural one: the -morbific power was a devil, which had to be expelled from the frame in -which it had taken shelter. Sometimes the demon was exorcised by a few -gentle passes; occasionally it fled at the verbal command of the -physician, or retreated on being gazed at through the eyes of the -mortal it tormented; but frequently the victory was not gained till -the healer rubbed himself--like the rubber who in our own day makes -such a large income at Brighton--into a red face and a copious -perspiration. Henry Stubbe, a famous physician in Stratford-upon-Avon, -in his "Miraculous Conformist," published in 1666, gives the -following testimony:-- - -"_Proofs that he revives the Ferment of the Blood._--Mr Bromley's -brother, of Upton upon Severne, after a long quartane Ague, had by a -Metastasis of the Disease such a chilnesse in the habit of the body, -that no clothes could possibly warme him; he wore upon his head many -spiced caps, and tenne pounds weight of linen on his head. Mr -Greatarick stripped him, and rubbed him all over, and immediately he -sweat, and was hot all over, so that the bath never heated up as did -the hand of Mr Greatarick's; this was his own expression. But Mr -Greatarick causing him to cast off all that multitude of caps and -cloaths, it was supposed that it frustrated the happy effect, for he -felt the recourse of his disease in some parts rendered the cure -suspicious. But as often as Mr Greatarick came and rubbed him he would -be all in a flame againe for half-an-hour: the experiment whereof was -frequently practised for five or six dayes at Ragly." - -Greatrakes himself also speaks of his more violent curative exertions -making him very hot. But it was only occasionally that he had to -labour so vehemently. His eye, the glance of which had a fascinating -effect on people of a nervous organization, and his fantastic -ticklings, usually produced all the results required by his mode of -treatment. - -The fame of the healer spread far and wide. Not only from the most -secluded parts of Ireland, but from civilized England, the lame and -blind, the deaf, dumb, and diseased, made pilgrimages to the Squire of -Affane. His stable, barn, and malt-house were crowded with wretches -imploring his aid. The demands upon his time were so very many and -great, that he set apart three days in the week for the reception of -patients; and on those days, from six in the morning till six in the -evening, he ministered to his wretched clients. He took no fee but -gratitude on the part of those he benefited, and a cheering sense that -he was fulfilling the commands of the founder of his religion. The -Dean of Lismore cited him to appear before the ecclesiastical court, -and render an account of his proceedings. He went, and on being asked -if he had worked any cures, replied to the court that they might come -to his house and see. The judge asked if he had a licence to practise -from the ordinary of the diocese; and he replied that he knew of no -law which prohibited any man from doing what good he could to others. -He was, however, commanded by the court not to lay his hands again on -the sick, until he had obtained the Ordinary's licence to do so. He -obeyed for two days only, and went on again more earnestly than ever. - -Let a charlatan or an enthusiast spread his sails, the breeze of -fashion is always present, and ready to swell them. The Earl of Orrery -took his quondam lieutenant by the hand, and persuaded him to go over -to England to cure the Viscountess Conway of a violent headache, -which, in spite of the ablest physicians of England and France, she -had suffered from for many years. Lord Conway sent him an urgent -invitation to do so. He complied, and made his way to Rugby, in -Warwickshire, where he was unable to give relief to his hostess, but -was hospitably entertained for a month. His inability to benefit Lady -Conway did not injure his reputation, for he did not profess to be -able to cure every one. An adverse influence--such as the sins of a -patient, or his want of faith--was enough to counteract the healing -power. In the jargon of modern mesmerism, which _practically_ was only -a revival of Greatrakes's extravagances, the physician could affect -only those who were susceptible. But though Lady Conway was beyond the -reach of his mysterious agency, the reverse was the case with others. -The gentry and commonalty of Warwickshire crowded by thousands to him; -and he touched, prayed over, and blessed them, and sent them away -rejoicing. From Rugby he went to Worcester, at the request of the Lord -Mayor and Aldermen of that city; and from Worcester he was carried up -to London. Lord Arlington commanded him to appear at Whitehall, and -mumble in his particular fashion for the amusement of Charles II. A -man who could cure gout by a touch would have been an acquisition to -such a court as then presided over English manners. - -In London he immediately became a star. The fashion of the West, and -the wary opulence of the East, laid their offerings at his feet. For a -time he ruled from Soho to Wapping. Mr. Justice Godfrey gave him rooms -for the reception of patients in his mansion in Lincoln's-inn-Fields; -and thither flocked the mob of the indigent and the mob of the wealthy -to pay him homage. Mr. Boyle (the brother of the Earl of Orrery), Sir -William Smith, Dr. Denton, Dr. Fairclough, Dr. Faber, Sir Nathaniel -Hobart, Sir John Godolphin, Dr. Wilkins, Dr. Whichcot, and Dr. -Cudworth, were amongst his most vehement supporters of the sterner -sex. But the majority of his admirers were ladies. The Countess of -Devonshire entertained him in her palace; and Lady Ranelagh frequently -amused the guests at her routs with Mr. Valentine Greatrakes, who, in -the character of _the lion_ of the season, performed with wondrous -results on the prettiest or most hysterical of the ladies present. It -was held as certain by his intimate friends that the curative property -that came from him was a subtle aura, effulgent, and of an exquisitely -sweet smell, that could only be termed the divine breath. "God," says -Dr. Henry Stubbe, "had bestowed upon Mr. Greaterick a peculiar -temperament, or composed his body of some particular ferments, the -effluvia whereof, being introduced sometimes by a light, sometimes by -a violent friction, should restore the temperament of the debilitated -parts, re-invigorate the blood, and dissipate all heterogeneous -ferments out of the bodies of the diseased by the eyes, nose, mouth, -hands, and feet. I place the gift of healing in the temperament or -composure of his body, because I see it is necessary that he touch -them. Besides, the Right Honourable the Lord Conway observed one -morning, as he came into his Lordship's chamber, a smell strangely -pleasant, as if it had been of sundry flowers; and demanding of his -man what sweet water he had brought into the room, he answered, -_None_; whereupon his Lordship smelled upon the hand of Mr. -Greaterick, and found the fragrancy to issue thence; and examining his -bosom, he found the like scent there also." Dean Rust gave similar -testimony; and "Sir Amos Meredith, who had been Mr. Greaterick's -bed-fellow," did the like. - -Amongst the certificates of cures performed, which Greatrakes -published, are two to which the name of Andrew Marvell is affixed, as -a spectator of the stroking. One of them is the following:-- - - "MR NICHOLSON'S CERTIFICATE. - - "I, Anthony Nicholson, of Cambridge, Bookseller, have been - affected sore with pains all over my body, for - three-and-twenty years last past, have had advice and best - directions of all the doctors there; have been at the bath - in Somersetshire, and been at above one hundred pounds - expense to procure ease, or a cure of these pains; and have - found all the means I could be advised or directed to - ineffectual for either, till, by the advice of Dr Benjamin - Whichcot and Dean Rust, I applyed myself to Mr Greatrake's - for help upon Saturday was sevenight, being the latter end - of March, and who then stroked me; upon which I was very - much worse, and enforced to keep my bed for five or six - days; but then being stroked twice since, by the blessing of - God upon Mr Greatrake's endeavours, I am perfectly eas'd of - all pains, and very healthy and strong, insomuch as I intend - (God willing) to return home towards Cambridge to-morrow - morning, though I was so weak as to be necessitated to be - brought up in men's arms, on Saturday last about 11 of the - clock, to Mr Greatrake's. Attested by me this tenth day of - April, 1666. I had also an hard swelling in my left arm, - whereby I was disabled from using it; which being taken out - by the said Mr Greatrake's, I am perfectly freed of all - pain, and the use thereof greatly restored. - - "ANTHONY NICHOLSON. - - "In the presence of Andrew Marvell, Jas. Fairclough, Tho. - Alured, Tho. Pooley, W. Popple." - -There were worse features of life in Charles the Second's London than -the popularity of Valentine Greatrakes; but his triumph was of short -duration. His professions were made the butts of ridicule, to which -his presence of mind and volubility were unable to respond with -effect. It was asserted by his enemies that his system was only a -cloak under which he offended the delicacy of virtuous women, and -roused the passions of the unchaste. His tone of conversation was -represented as compounded of the blasphemy of the religious enthusiast -and the blasphemy of the profligate. His boast that he never received -a fee for his remedial services was met by flat contradiction, and a -statement that he received presents to the amount of L100 at a time -from a single individual. This last accusation was never clearly -disposed of; but it is probable that the reward he sought (if he -looked for any) was restoration, through Court influence, to the -commission of magistrates for his county, and the lost clerkship of -the peace. The tide of slander was anyhow too strong for him, and he -retired to his native country a less honoured though perhaps a not -less honest man than he left it. Of his sincerity at the outset of his -career as a healer there can be little doubt. - -Valentine Greatrakes did unconsciously what many years after him -Mesmer did by design. He in his remarkable career illustrated the -power which a determined man may exercise over the will and nervous -life of another. - -As soon as the singular properties of the loadstone were discovered, -they were presumed to have a strong medicinal effect; and in this -belief physicians for centuries--and indeed almost down to present -times--were in the habit of administering pulverized magnet in salves, -plaisters, pills, and potions. It was not till the year 1660 that it -was for the first time distinctly recorded in the archives of science, -by Dr. Gilbert, of Colchester, that in a state of pulverization the -loadstone no longer possessed any magnetic powers. But it was not till -some generations after this that medical practitioners universally -recognized the fact that powder of magnet, externally or internally -administered, was capable of producing no other results than the -presence of any ordinary ferruginous substance would account for. But -long after this error had been driven from the domains of science, an -unreasonable belief in the power of magnets applied externally to the -body held its ground. In 1779-80, the Royal Society of Medicine in -Paris made numerous experiments with a view to arrive at a just -appreciation of the influence of magnets on the human system, and came -to the conclusion that they were medicinal agents of no ordinary -efficacy. - -Such was the state of medical opinion at the close of the last -century, when Perkins's tractors, which were supposed to act -magnetically, became the fashion. Mr. Perkins was a citizen of -Connecticut, and certainly his celebrated invention was worthy of the -'cutest people on the 'varsal earth. Barnum's swindles were modest -ventures by comparison. The entire world, old and new, went -tractor-mad. Every valetudinarian bought the painted nails, composed -of an alloy of various metals (which none but Perkins could make, and -none but Perkins sell), and tickled with their sharp ends those parts -of his frame which were regarded as centres of disease. - -The phenomena apparently produced by these instruments were -astounding, and misled every observer of them; until Dr. Haygarth of -Bath proved by a process to which objections was impossible, that they -were referable not to metal points, but to the mental condition of -those who used them. "Robert Thomas," says Dr. Haygarth in his -interesting work, "aged forty-three, who had been for some time under -the care of Dr. Lovell, in the Bristol Infirmary, with a rheumatic -affection of the shoulder, which rendered his arm perfectly useless, -was pointed out as a proper object of trial by Mr. J. W. Dyer, -apothecary to the house. Tuesday, April 19th, having everything in -readiness, I passed through the ward, and, in a way that he might -suspect nothing, questioned him respecting his complaint. I then told -him that I had an instrument in my pocket which had been very -serviceable to many in his state; and when I had explained to him how -simple it was, he consented to undergo the operation. In six minutes -no other effect was produced than a warmth upon the skin, and I feared -that this _coup d'essai_ had failed. The next day, however, he told me -that 'he had received so much benefit that it had enabled him to lift -his hand from his knee, which he had in vain several times attempted -on Monday evening, as the whole ward witnessed.' The tractors I used -being made of lead, I thought it advisable to lay them aside, lest, -being metallic points, the proof against the fraud might be less -complete. Thus much, however, was proved, that the patent tractors -possessed no specific power independent of simple metals. Two pieces -of wood, properly shaped and painted, were next made use of; and in -order to add solemnity to the farce, Mr. Barton held in his hand a -stop-watch, whilst Mr. Lax minuted the effects produced. In four -minutes the man raised his hand several inches; and he had lost also -the pain in his shoulder, usually experienced when attempting to lift -anything. He continued to undergo the operation daily, and with -progressive good effect; for on the twenty-fifth he could touch the -mantel-piece. On the twenty-seventh, in the presence of Dr. Lovell and -Mr. J. P. Noble, two common iron nails, disguised with sealing-wax, -were substituted for the pieces of mahogany before used. In three -minutes he felt something moving from his arm to his hand, and soon -after he touched the board of rules which hung a foot above the -fire-place. This patient at length so far recovered that he could -carry coals and use his arm sufficiently to help the nurse; yet, -previous to the use of the spurious tractors, he could no more lift -his hand from his knee than if a hundredweight were upon it, or a nail -driven through it--as he declared in the presence of several -gentlemen, whose names I shall have frequent occasion to mention. The -fame of this case brought applications in abundance; indeed, it must -be confessed that it was more than sufficient to act upon weak minds, -and induce a belief that these pieces of wood and iron were endowed -with some peculiar virtues." - -The result of Dr. Haygarth's experiments was the overthrow of Perkins, -and the enlightenment of the public as to the real worth of the -celebrated metallic tractors. In achieving this the worthy physician -added some interesting facts to the science of psychology. But of -course his influence upon the ignorant and foolish persons he -illuminated was only transient. Ere a few short years or even months -were over, they had embraced another delusion--not less ridiculous, -but more pernicious. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - -IMAGINATION AND NERVOUS EXCITEMENT. MESMER. - - -At a very early date the effects of magnetic influences, and the -ordinary phenomena of nervous excitement, were the source of much -confusion and perplexity to medical speculators, who, with an unsound -logic that is perhaps more frequent than any other form of bad -reasoning, accounted for what they could not understand by pointing to -what they were only imperfectly acquainted with. The power of the -loadstone was a mystery; the nervous phenomena produced by a strong -will over a weak one were a mystery:--clearly the mysterious phenomena -were to be attributed to the mysterious power. In its outset animal -magnetism committed no other error than this. Its wilder extravagances -were all subsequent to this assumption, that two sets of phenomena, -which it has never yet been proved are nearly allied, were connected, -the one with the other, in the relation of cause and effect, or as -being the offspring of one immediate and common cause. - -To support this theory, Mesmerism called into its service the old -astrological views regarding planetary influence. But it held also -that the subtle fluid, so transmitted to the animal life of our -planet, was capable of being passed on in greater or less volumes of -quantity and intensity. Nervous energy was only that subtle fluid -which was continually passing and repassing in impalpable currents -between the earth and the celestial bodies; and when, by reason of the -nervous energy within him, any one exercised control over another, he -was deemed only to have infused him with some of his own stock of -spiritual aura. Here was a new statement of the old dream which had -charmed the poets and philosophers of buried centuries; and as it was -a view which did not admit of positive disproof, it was believed by -its excited advocates to be proved. - -One of the first British writers on animal magnetism was William -Maxwell, a Scotch physician, who enunciated his opinions with a -boldness and perspicacity which do him much credit. The first four of -his twelve conclusions are a very good specimen of his work:-- - -"_Conclusio 1._--Anima non solum in corpore proprio visibili, sed -etiam extra corpus est, nec corpore organico circumscribitur. - -"_Conclusio 2._--Anima extra corpus proprium, communiter sic dictum, -operatur. - -"_Conclusio 3._--Ab omni corpore radii corporales fluunt, in quibus -anima sua praesentia, operatur; hisque energiam et potentiam operandi -largitur. Sunt vero radii hi non solum corporales, sed et diversarum -partium. - -"_Conclusio 4._--Radii hi, qui ex animalium corporibus emittuntur, -spiritu vitali gaudent, per quem animae mutationes dispensantur." - -The sixty-fifth of the aphorisms with which Maxwell concludes his book -is an amusing one, as giving the orthodox animal-magnetic view of that -condition of the affections which we term love, and also as -illustrating the connection between astrology and charms. - -"_Aphorism 65._--Imaginatione vero producitur amor, quando imaginatio -exaltata unius imaginationi alterius dominatur, eamque fingit -sigillatque; atque hoc propter miram imaginationis volubilitatem -vicissim fieri potest. Hinc incantationes effectum nanciscuntur, licet -aliqualem forsan in se virtutem possideant, sine imaginatione tamen -haec virtus propter universalitatem distribui nequit." - -Long before animal magnetism was a stock subject of conversation at -dinner-parties, there was a vague knowledge of its pretensions -floating about society; and a curiosity to know how far its principles -were reconcilable with facts, animated men of science and lovers of -the marvellous. Had not this been the state of public feeling, the -sensations created by Sir Kenelm Digby's sympathetic cures, -Greatrake's administrations, Leverett's manual exercises, and -Loutherbourg's manipulations, would not have been so great and -universal. - -But the person who turned the credulity of the public on this point to -the best account was Frederick Anthony Mesmer. This man did not -originate a single idea. He only traded on the old day-dreams and -vagaries of departed ages; and yet he managed to fix his name upon a -science (?), in the origination or development of which he had no part -whatever; and, by daring charlatanry, he made it a means of grasping -enormous wealth. Where this man was born is uncertain. Vienna, -Werseburg in Swabia, and Switzerland, contend for the honour of having -given him to the world. At Vienna he took his M.D. degree, having -given an inaugural dissertation on "The Influence of the Planets upon -the Human Body." His course of self-delusion began with using magnets -as a means of cure, when applied externally; and he had resolutely -advanced on the road of positive knavery, when, after his quarrel with -his old instructor, Maximilian Hel, he threw aside the use of steel -magnets, and produced, by the employment of his fingers and eyes, -greater marvels than had ever followed the application of the -loadstone or Perkins's tractors. As his prosperity and reputation -increased, so did his audacity--which was always laughable, when it -did not disgust by its impiety. - -On one occasion, Dr. Egg Von Ellekon asked him why he ordered his -patients to bathe in river, and not in spring water? "Because," was -the answer, "river water is exposed to the sun's rays." "True," was -the reply, "the water is sometimes warmed by the sun, but not so much -so that you have not sometimes to warm it still more. Why then should -not spring water be preferable?" Not at all posed, Mesmer answered, -with charming candour, "Dear doctor, the cause why all the water which -is exposed to the rays of the sun is superior to all other water is -because it is magnetized. I myself magnetized the sun some twenty -years ago." - -But a better story of him is told by Madame Campan. That lady's -husband was attacked with pulmonary inflammation. Mesmer was sent for, -and found himself called upon to stem a violent malady, not to gull -the frivolous Parisians, who were then raving about the marvels of the -new system. He felt his patient's pulse, made certain inquiries, and -then, turning to Madame Campan, gravely assured her that the only way -to restore her husband to health was to lay in his bed, by his side -one of three things--a young woman of brown complexion, a black hen, -or an old bottle. "Sir," replied Madame Campan, "if the choice be a -matter of indifference, pray try the empty bottle." The bottle was -tried, but Mons. Campan grew worse. Madame Campan left the room, -alarmed and anxious, and, during her absence, Mesmer bled and -blistered his patient. This latter treatment was more efficacious. But -imagine Madame Campan's astonishment, when on her husband's recovery, -Mesmer asked for and obtained from him a written certificate that he -had been cured by Mesmerism! - -It is instructive to reflect that the Paris which made for a short day -Mesmer its idol, was not far distant from the Paris of the Reign of -Terror. In one year the man received 400,000 francs in fees; and -positively the French government, at the instigation of Maurepas, -offered him an annual stipend of 20,000 francs, together with an -additional 10,000 to support an establishment for patients and pupils, -if he would stay in France. One unpleasant condition was attached to -this offer: he was required to allow three nominees of the Crown to -watch his proceedings. So inordinately high did Mesmer rate his -claims, that he stood out for better terms, and like the dog of the -fable, by endeavoring to get too much, lost what he might have -secured. Ere long the Parisians recovered something of common sense. -The enthusiasm of the hour subsided: and the Royal Commission, -composed of some of the best men of science to be found in the entire -world, were enabled to explain to the public how they had been fooled -by a trickster, and betrayed into practices scarcely less offensive to -modesty than to reason. In addition to the public report, another -private one was issued by the commissioners, urging the authorities, -in the name of morality, to put a stop to the mesmeric mania. - -Mesmer died in obscurity on the 5th of March, in the year 1815. - -Animal magnetism, under the name of mesmerism, has been made familiar -of late years to the ears of English people, if not to their -understandings, by the zealous and indiscreet advocacy which its -absurdities have met with in London and our other great cities. It is -true that the disciples have outrun their master--that Mesmer has been -out-mesmerized; but the same criticisms which have been here made on -the system of the arch-charlatan may be applied to the vagaries of his -successors, whether they be dupes or rogues. To electro-biologists, -spirit-rappers, and table-turners the same arguments must be used as -we employ to mesmerists. They must be instructed that phenomena are -not to be referred to magnetic influence, simply because it is -difficult to account for them; that it is especially foolish to set -them down to such a cause, when they are manifestly the product of -another power; and that all the wonders which form the stock of their -conversation, and fill the pages of the _Zoist_, are to be attributed, -not to a lately discovered agency, but to nervous susceptibility, -imagination, and bodily temperament, aroused by certain well-known -stimulants. - -They will doubtless be disinclined to embrace this explanation of -their marvels, and will argue that it is much more likely that a table -is made by ten or twelve gentlemen and ladies to turn rapidly round, -without the application of muscular force, than that these ladies and -gentlemen should delude themselves into an erroneous belief that such -a phenomenon has been produced. To disabuse them of such an opinion, -they must be instructed in the wondrous and strangely delicate -mechanism of the human intellect and affections. And after such -enlightenment they must be hopelessly dull or perverse if they do not -see that the metaphysical explanation of "their cases" is not only the -true one, but that it opens up to view far more astonishing features -in the constitution of man than any that are dreamt of in the vain -philosophy of mesmerism. It is humiliating to think that these remarks -should be an appropriate comment on the silliness of the so-called -educated classes of the nineteenth century. That they are out of -place, none can advance, when one of the most popular pulpit orators -of London has not hesitated to commit to print, in a work of religious -pretensions, the almost blasphemous suggestion that table-turning is a -phenomenon consequent upon the first out-poured drops of "the seventh -vial" having reached the earth. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -MAKE WAY FOR THE LADIES! - - "For in all times, in the opinion of the multitude, witches - and old women and impostors have had a competition with - physicians. And what followeth? Even this, that physicians - say to themselves, as Solomon expresseth it upon a higher - occasion, 'If it befall to me as befalleth to the fools, why - should I labour to be more wise?'"--Lord Bacon's - _Advancement of Learning_. - - -It is time to say something about the ladies as physicians. Once they -were the chief practitioners of medicine; and even to recent times had -a monopoly of that branch of art over which Dr. Locock presides. The -question has lately been agitated whether certain divisions of -remedial industry ought not again to be set aside for them; and the -patronage afforded to the lady who (in spite of the ridicule thrown on -her, and the rejection of her advances by various medical schools to -which she applied for admission as a student), managed to obtain a -course of medical instruction at one of the London schools, and -practised for a brief time in London previous to her departure for a -locality more suited to her operations, would seem to indicate that -public feeling is not averse to the thought of employing--under -certain conditions and for certain purposes--female physicians. - -Of the many doctresses who have flourished in England during the last -200 years, only a few have left any memorial of their actions behind -them. Of _the wise women_ (a class of practitioners, by-the-by, still -to be found in many rural villages and in certain parts of London) in -whom our ancestors had as much confidence as we of the present -generation have in the members of the College of Physicians, we -question if twoscore, including Margaret Kennix and Mrs. Woodhouse, of -the Elizabethan era, could be rescued from oblivion. Some of them -wrote books, and so, by putting their names "in print," have a slight -hold on posthumous reputation. Two of them are immortalized by mention -in the records of the "Philosophical Transactions for 1694." These -ladies were Mrs. Sarah Hastings and Mrs. French. The curious may refer -to the account there given of the ladies' skill; and also, for further -particulars relative to Sarah Hastings, a glance may be given to M. de -la Cross's "Memoirs for the Ingenious," published in the month of -July, 1693. We do not care to transcribe the passages into our own -pages; though, now that it is the fashion to treat all the unpleasant -details of nursing as matters of romance, we presume there is nothing -in the cases mentioned calculated to shock public delicacy. - -A most successful "wise woman" was Joanna Stephens, an ignorant and -vulgar creature, who, just before the middle of the last century, -proclaimed that she had discovered a sovereign remedy for a painful -malady, which, like the smallpox, has become in the hands of modern -surgery so manageable that ere long it will rank as little more than -"a temporary discomfort." Joanna was a courageous woman. She went -straightway to temporal peers, bishops, duchesses, and told them she -was the woman for their money. They believed her, testified to the -marvellous cures which she had effected, and allowed her to make use -of their titles to awe sceptics into respect for her powers. Availing -herself of this permission, she published books containing lists of -her cures, backed up by letters from influential members of the -nobility and gentry. - -In the April number of the _Gentleman's Magazine_ for the year 1738, -one reads--"Mrs. Stephens has proposed to make her medicine publick, -on consideration of L5000 to be raised by contribution and lodged with -Mr. Drummond, banker; he has received since the 11th of this month -about L500 on that account." By the end of the month the banker had in -his hands L720 8_s._ 6_d._ - -This generous offer was not made until the inventor of the nostrums -had enriched herself by enormous fees drawn from the credulity of the -rich of every sect and rank. The subscription to pay her the amount -she demanded for her secret was taken up enthusiastically. Letters -appeared in the Journals and Magazines, arguing that no humane or -patriotic man could do otherwise than contribute to it. The movement -was well whipped up by the press. The Bishop of Oxford gave L10 -10_s._; Bishop of Gloucester, L10 10_s._; The Earl of Pembroke, L50; -Countess of Deloraine, L5 5_s._; Lady Betty Jermaine, L21; Lady Vere -Beauclerc, L10 10_s._; Earl of Godolphin, L100; Duchess of Gordon, L5 -5_s._: Viscount Lonsdale, L52 10_s._; Duke of Rutland, L50; the -Bishop of Salisbury, L25; Sir James Lowther, Bart., L25; Lord Cadogan, -L2 2_s._; Lord Cornwallis, L20; Duchess of Portland, L21; Earl of -Clarendon, L25; Lord Lymington, L5; Duke of Leeds, L21; Lord Galloway, -L30; General Churchill (Spot Ward's friend), L10 10_s._; Countess of -Huntingdon, L10 10_s._; Hon. Frances Woodhouse, L10 10_s._; Sir Thomas -Lowther, Bart., L5 5_s._; Duke of Richmond, L30; Sir George Saville, -Bart., L5 5_s._ - -These were only a few of the noble and distinguished dupes of Joanna -Stephens. Mrs. Crowe, in her profound and philosophic work, -"Spiritualism, and the Age we live in," informs us that "the -solicitude" about the subject of table-turning "displayed by many -persons in high places, is the best possible sign of the times; and it -is one from which she herself hopes that the period is arrived when we -shall receive further help from God." Hadn't Joanna Stephens reason to -think that the period had arrived when she and her remedial system -would receive further help from God? What would not Read (we do not -mean the empiric oculist knighted by Queen Anne, but the cancer quack -of our own time) give to have such a list of aristocratic supporters? -What would not Mrs. Doctor Goss (who in this year, 1861, boasts of the -patronage of "ladies of the highest distinction") give for a similar -roll of adherents? - -The agitation, however, for a public subscription for Joanna Stephens -was not so successful as her patrician supporters anticipated. They -succeeded in collecting L1356 3_s._ But Joanna stood out: her secret -should not go for less than L5000. "No pay, no cure!" was her cry. The -next thing her friends did was to apply to Parliament for the -required sum--and, positively, their request was granted. The nation, -out of its taxes, paid what the individuals of its wealthy classes -refused to subscribe. A commission was appointed by Parliament, that -gravely inquired into the particulars of the cures alleged to be -performed by Joanna Stephens; and, finding the evidence in favour of -the lady unexceptionable, they awarded her the following certificate, -which ought to be preserved to all ages as a valuable example of -senatorial wisdom:-- - - "THE CERTIFICATE REQUIRED BY THE ACT OF - PARLIAMENT. - - March 5, 1739. - - "We, whose names are underwritten, being the major part of - the Justices appointed by an Act of Parliament, entitled, - '_An Act for providing a Reward to Joanna Stephens, upon - proper discovery to be made by her, for the use of the - Publick, of the Medicines prepared by her_-- --' --do - certify, that the said Joanna Stephens did, with all - convenient speed after the passing of the said Act, make a - discovery to our satisfaction, for the use of the publick, - of the said medicines, and of her method of preparing the - same; and that we have examined the said medicines, and of - her method of preparing of the same, and are convinced by - experiment of the _Utility_, _Efficacy_, and _Dissolving - Power_ thereof. - - "JO. CANT, THO. OXFORD, - HARDWICKE, C., STE. POYNTZ, - WILMINGTON, P., STEPHEN HALES, - GODOLPHIN, C. P. S., JO. GARDINER, - DORSET, SIM BURTON, - MONTAGUE, PETER SHAW, - PEMBROKE, D. HARTLEY, - BALTIMORE, W. CHESELDEN, - CORNBURY, C. HAWKINS, - M. GLOUCESTER, SAM. SHARP." - -When such men as Cheselden, Hawkins, and Sharp could sign such a -certificate, we need feel no surprise at the conduct of Dr. Nesbit and -Dr. Pellet (Mead's early friend, who rose to be president of the -College of Physicians). These two gentlemen, who were on the -commission, having some scruples about the words "dissolving power," -gave separate testimonials in favour of the medicines. St. John Long's -cause, it may be remembered, was advocated by Dr. Ramadge, a Fellow of -the College. - -The country paid its money, and obtained Joanna's prescriptions. Here -is a portion of the lady's statement:-- - - "_A full Discovery of the Medicines given by me, Joanna - Stephens, and a particular account of my method of preparing - and giving the same._ - -"My medicines are a Powder, a Decoction, and Pills. - -"The Powder consists of egg-shells and snails--both calcined. - -"The Decoction is made by boiling some herbs (together with a ball -which consists of soap, swine's-cresses burnt to a blackness, and -honey) in water. - -"The Pills consist of snails calcined, wild carrot seeds, burdock -seeds, ashen keys, hips and hawes--all burnt to a blackness--soap and -honey. - -"The powder is thus prepared:--Take hen's egg-shells, well drained -from the whites, dry and clean; crush them small with the hands, and -fill a crucible of the twelfth size (which contains nearly three -pints) with them lightly, place it on the fire till the egg-shells be -calcined to a greyish white, and acquire an acrid, salt taste: this -will take up eight hours, at least. After they are thus calcined, put -them in a dry, clean earthen pan, which must not be above three parts -full, that there may be room for the swelling of the egg-shells in -stacking. Let the pan stand uncovered in a dry room for two months, -and no longer; in this time the egg-shells will become of a milder -taste, and that part which is sufficiently calcined will fall into a -powder of such a fineness, as to pass through a common hairsieve, -which is to be done accordingly. - -"In like manner, take garden snails, with their shells, cleaned from -the dirt; fill a crucible of the same size with them whole, cover it, -and place it on the fire as before, till the snails have done -smoaking, which will be in about an hour--taking care that they do not -continue in the fire after that. They are then to be taken out of the -crucible, and immediately rubbed in a mortar to a fine powder, which -ought to be of a very dark-grey colour. - - "_Note._--If pit-coal be made use of, it will be proper--in - order that the fire may the sooner burn clear on the - top--that large cinders, and not fresh coals, be placed upon - the tiles which cover the crucibles. - -"These powders being thus prepared, take the egg-shell powder of six -crucibles, and the snail-powder of one; mix them together, and rub -them in a mortar, and pass them through a cypress sieve. This mixture -is immediately to be put up into bottles, which must be close stopped, -and kept in a dry place for use. I have generally added a small -quantity of swine's-cresses, burnt to a blackness, and rubbed fine; -but this was only with a view to disguise it. - -"The egg-shells may be prepared at any time of the year, but it is -best to do them in summer. The snails ought only to be prepared in -May, June, July, and August; and I esteem those best which are done in -the first of these months. - -"The decoction is thus prepared:--Take four ounces and a half of the -best Alicant soap, beat it in a mortar with a large spoonful of -swine's-cresses burnt to a blackness, and as much honey as will make -the whole of the consistence of paste. Let this be formed into a ball. -Take this ball, and green camomile, or camomile flowers, sweet fennel, -parsley, and burdock leaves, of each an ounce (when there are not -greens, take the same quantity of roots); slice the ball, and boil -them in two quarts of soft water half an hour, then strain it off, and -sweeten it with honey. - -"The pills are thus prepared:--Take equal quantities by measure of -snails calcined as before, of wild carrot seeds, burdock seeds, ashen -keys, hips and hawes, all burnt to a blackness, or, which is the same -thing, till they have done smoaking; mix them together, rub them in a -mortar, and pass them through a cypress sieve. Then take a large -spoonful of this mixture, and four ounces of the best Alicant soap, -and beat them in a mortar with as much honey as will make the whole of -a proper consistence for pills; sixty of which are to be made out of -every ounce of the composition." - -Five thousand pounds for such stuff as this!--and the time was coming -when the nation grudged an inadequate reward to Jenner, and haggled -about the purchase of Hunter's Museum! - -But a more remarkable case of feminine success in the doctoring line -was that of Mrs. Mapp, who was a contemporary of Mrs. Stephens. Under -the patronage of the Court, "Drop and Pill" Ward (or "Spot" Ward, as -he was also called, from a mole on his cheek) was astonishing London -with his cures, and his gorgeous equipage which he had the royal -permission to drive through St. James Park, when the attention of the -fashionable world was suddenly diverted to the proceeding of "Crazy -Sally of Epsom." She was an enormous, fat, ugly, drunken woman, known -as a haunter of fairs, about which she loved to reel, screaming and -abusive, in a state of roaring intoxication. This attractive lady was -a bone-setter; and so much esteemed was she for skill in her art, that -the town of Epsom offered her L100 if she would reside there for a -year. The following passage we take from the _Gentleman's Magazine_ -for 1736: "Saturday 31. In the _Daily Advertiser_, July 28, Joshua -Ward, Esq., having the queen's leave, recites seven extraordinary -cases of persons which were cured by him, and examined before her -Majesty, June 7, objections to which had been made in the _Grub Street -Journal_, June 24. But the attention of the public has been taken off -from the wonder-working Mr. Ward to a strolling woman now at Epsom, -who calls herself Crazy Sally; and had performed cures in bone-setting -to admiration, and occasioned so great a resort, that the town -offered her 100 guineas to continue there a year." - -"Crazy Sally" awoke one morning and found herself famous. Patients of -rank and wealth flocked in from every quarter. Attracted by her -success, an Epsom swain made an offer of marriage to Sally, which she -like a fool accepted. Her maiden name of Wallin (she was the daughter -of a Wiltshire bone-setter of that name) she exchanged at the altar -for that of Mapp. If her marriage was not in all respects fortunate, -she was not burdened with much of her husband's society. He lived with -her only for a fortnight, during which short space of time he thrashed -her soundly twice or thrice, and then decamped with a hundred guineas -of her earnings. She found consolation for her wounded affections in -the homage of the world. She became a notoriety of the first water, -and every day some interesting fact appeared about her in the prints -and public journals. In one we are told "the cures of the woman -bone-setter of Epsom are too many to be enumerated: her bandages are -extraordinary neat, and her dexterity in reducing dislocations and -setting fractured bones wonderful. She has cured persons who have been -twenty years disabled, and has given incredible relief in the most -difficult cases. The lame come daily to her, and she gets a great deal -of money, persons of quality who attend her operations making her -presents." - -Poets sounded her praises. Vide _Gentleman's Magazine_, August, 1736: - - "ON MRS MAPP, THE FAMOUS BONE-SETTER OF EPSOM. - - "Of late, without the least pretence to skill, - Ward's grown a fam'd physician by a pill; - Yet he can but a doubtful honour claim, - While envious Death oft blasts his rising fame. - Next travell'd Taylor fills us with surprise, - Who pours new light upon the blindest eyes; - Each journal tells his circuit through the land, - Each journal tells the blessings of his hand; - And lest some hireling scribbler of the town - Injure his history, he writes his own. - We read the long accounts with wonder o'er; - Had he wrote less, we had believed him more. - Let these, O Mapp, thou wonder of the age! - With dubious arts endeavor to engage; - While you, irregularly strict to rules, - Teach dull collegiate pedants they are fools; - By merit, the sure path to fame pursue-- - For all who see thy art must own it true." - -Mrs. Mapp continued to reside in Epsom, but she visited London once a -week. Her journeys to and from the metropolis she performed in a -chariot drawn by four horses, with servants wearing splendid liveries. -She used to put up at the Grecian Coffee-House, where Sir Hans Sloane -witnessed her operations, and was so favourably impressed by them, -that he put under her charge his niece, who was suffering from a -spinal affection, or, to use the exact and scientific language of the -newspapers, "whose back had been broke nine years, and stuck out two -inches." The eminent lady went to the playhouse in Lincoln's-Inn-Fields -to see the _Husband's Relief_ acted. Her presence not only produced a -crowded house, but the fact that she sate between Taylor the quack -oculist on one side, and Ward the drysalter on the other, gave -occasion for the production of the following epigram, the point of -which is perhaps almost as remarkable as its polish:-- - - "While Mapp to the actors showed a kind regard, - On one side _Taylor_ sat, on the other _Ward_; - When their mock persons of the drama came, - Both _Ward_ and _Taylor_ thought it hurt their fame; - Wonder'd how Mapp could in good humour be, - '_Zoons!_' crys the manly dame, 'it hurts not me; - Quacks without art may either blind or kill, - But demonstration proves that mine is skill.'" - -On the stage, also, a song was sung in honour of Mrs. Mapp, and in -derision of Taylor and Ward. It ran thus:-- - - "You surgeons of London, who puzzle your pates, - To ride in your coaches, and purchase estates, - Give over for shame, for pride has a fall, - And the doctress of Epsom has out-done you all. - Derry down, &c. - - "What signifies learning, or going to school, - When a woman can do, without reason or rule, - What puts you to nonplus, and baffles your art; - For petticoat practice has now got the start. - Derry down, &c. - - "In physic, as well as in fashions, we find - The newest has always its run with mankind; - Forgot is the bustle 'bout Taylor and Ward, - And Mapp's all the cry, and her fame's on record. - Derry down, &c. - - "Dame Nature has given a doctor's degree-- - She gets all the patients, and pockets the fee; - So if you don't instantly prove her a cheat, - She'll loll in her carriage, whilst you walk the street. - Derry down, &c." - -On one occasion, as this lady was proceeding up the Old Kent Road to -the Borough, in her carriage and four, dressed in a loosely-fitting -robe-de-chambre, and manifesting by her manner that she had partaken -somewhat too freely of Geneva water, she found herself in a very -trying position. Her fat frame, indecorous dress, intoxication, and -dazzling equipage, were in the eyes of the mob such sure signs of -royalty, that she was immediately taken for a Court lady, of German -origin and unpopular repute, whose word was omnipotent at St. James's. - -Soon a crowd gathered round the carriage, and, with the proper amount -of swearing and yelling, were about to break the windows with stones, -when the spirited occupant of the vehicle, acting very much as Nell -Gwyn did on a similar occasion, rose from her seat, and letting down -the glasses, exclaimed, with an imprecation more emphatic than polite, -"-- --! Don't you know me? I am Mrs. Mapp, the bone-setter!" - -This brief address so tickled the humour of the mob, that the lady -proceeded on her way amidst deafening acclamations and laughter. - -The Taylor mentioned as sitting on one side of Mrs. Mapp in the -playhouse was a notable character. A cunning, plausible, shameless -blackguard, he was eminently successful in his vocation of quack. Dr. -King, in his "Anecdotes of his own Times," speaks of him with respect. -"I was at Tunbridge," says the Doctor, "with Chevalier Taylor, the -oculist. He seems to understand the anatomy of the eye perfectly well; -he has a fine hand and good instruments, and performs all his -operations with great dexterity; but he undertakes everything (even -impossible cases), and promises everything. No charlatan ever appeared -with fitter and more excellent talents, or to greater advantage; he -has a good person, is a natural orator, and has a faculty of learning -foreign languages. He has travelled over all Europe, and has always -with him an equipage suitable to a man of the first quality; and has -been introduced to most of the sovereign princes, from whom he has -received many marks of their liberality and esteem." - -Dr. King, in a Latin inscription to the mountebank, says:-- - - "Hic est, hic vir est, - Quem docti, indoctique omnes impense mirantur, - Johannes Taylor; - Coecigenorum, coecorum, coecitantium, - Quot quot sunt ubique, - Spes unica--Solamen--Salus." - -The Chevalier Taylor (as he always styled himself), in his travels -about the country, used to give lectures on "The Eye," in whatever -place he tarried. These addresses were never explanatory of the -anatomy of the organ, but mere absurd rhapsodies on it as an ingenious -and wonderful contrivance. - -Chevalier's oration to the university of Oxford, which is still -extant, began thus:-- - -"The eye, most illustrious sons of the muses, most learned Oxonians, -whose fame I have heard celebrated in all parts of the globe--the eye, -that most amazing, that stupendous, that comprehending, that -incomprehensible, that miraculous organ, the eye, is the Proteus of -the passions, the herald of the mind, the interpreter of the heart, -and the window of the soul. The eye has dominion over all things. The -world was made for the eye, and the eye for the world. - -"My subject is Light, most illustrious sons of -literature--intellectual light. Ah! my philosophical, metaphysical, my -classical, mathematical, mechanical, my theological, my critical -audience, my subject is the eye. You are the eye of England! - -"England has two eyes--Oxford and Cambridge. They are the two eyes of -England, and two intellectual eyes. You are the right eye of England, -the elder sister in science, and the first fountain of learning in all -Europe. What filial joy must exult in my bosom, in my vast circuit, as -copious as that of the sun himself, to shine in my course, upon this -my native soil, and give light even at Oxford! - -"The eye is the husband of the soul! - -"The eye is indefatigable. The eye is an angelic faculty. The eye in -this respect is a female. The eye is never tired of seeing; that is, -of taking in, assimilating, and enjoying all Nature's vigour." - -When the Chevalier was ranting on in this fashion at Cambridge (of -course there terming Oxford the _left_ eye of England), he undertook -to express every passion of the mind by the eye alone. - -"Here you have surprise, gentlemen; here you have delight; here you -have terror!" - -"Ah!" cried an undergraduate, "there's no merit in that, for you tell -us beforehand what the emotion is. Now next time say nothing--and let -me guess what the feeling is you desire to express." - -"Certainly," responded the Doctor, cordially; "nothing can be more -reasonable in the way of a proposition. Now then, sir, what is this?" - -"Oh, veneration, I suppose." - -"Certainly--quite right--and this?" - -"Pity." - -"Of course, sir: you see it's impossible for an observant gentleman -like yourself to misunderstand the language of the eye," answered the -oculist, whose plan was only to assent to his young friend's -decisions. - -In the year 1736, when the Chevalier was at the height of his fame, -he received the following humorous letter:-- - -"DOMINE,--O tu, qui in oculis hominum versaris, et quamcunque tractas -rem, _acu_ tangis, salve! Tu, qui, instar Phoebi, lumen orbi, et -orbes luminibus reddis, iterum salve! - -"Cum per te Gallia, per te nostrae academiae, duo regni lumina, clarius -intuentur, cur non ad urbem Edinburgi, cum toties ubique erras, cursum -tendis? nam quaedam coecitas cives illic invasit. Ipsos magistratus -_Gutta Serena_ occupavit, videntur enim videre, sed nihil vident. -Idcirco tu istam _Scoticam Nebulam_ ex oculis remove, et quodcunque -latet in tenebris, in lucem profer. Illi violenter carcerem, tu oculos -leniter reclude; illi lucem Porteio ademerunt, tu illis lucem -restitue, et quamvis fingant se dupliciter videre, fac ut simpliciter -tantum oculo irretorto conspiciant. Peractoque cursu, ad Angliam redi -artis tuae plenus, Toriosque (ut vulgo vocantur) qui adhuc coecutiant -et hallucinantur, illuminato. Ab ipsis clericis, si qui sint coeci -ductores, nubem discute; immo ipso Sole lunaque, cum laborant eclipsi, -quae, instar tui ipsius, transit per varias regiones obumbrans, istam -molem caliginis amoveto. Sic eris Sol Mundi, sic eris non solum nomine -Sartor, sed re Oculorum omnium resarcitor; sic omuis Charta Publica -tuam Claritudinem celebrabit, et ubicunque frontem tuam ostendis, nemo -non te, O vir spectatissime, admirabitur. Ipse lippus scriptor hujus -epistolae maxime gauderet te Medicum Illustrissimum, cum omnibus tuis -oculatis testibus, Vindsoriae videre.--VALE." - -The Chevalier had a son and a biographer in the person of John Taylor, -who, under the title of "John Taylor, Junior," succeeded to his -father's trumpet, and blew it with good effect. The title-page of his -biography of his father enumerates some half-hundred crowned or royal -heads, to whose eyes the "Chevalier John Taylor, Opthalmiater -Pontifical, Imperial, and Royal," administered. - -But this work was feeble and contemptible compared with the -Chevalier's autobiographic sketch of himself, in his proposal for -publishing which he speaks of his loves and adventures, in the -following modest style:-- - -"I had the happiness to be also personally known to two of the most -amiable ladies this age has produced--namely, Lady Inverness and Lady -Mackintosh; both powerful figures, of great abilities, and of the most -pleasing address--both the sweetest prattlers, the prettiest -reasoners, and the best judges of the charms of high life that I ever -saw. When I first beheld these wonders I gazed on their beauties, and -my attention was busied in admiring the order and delicacy of their -discourse, &c. For were I commanded to seek the world for a lady -adorned with every accomplishment that man thinks desirable in the -sex, I could only be determined by finding their resemblance.... - -"I am perfectly acquainted with the history of Persia, as well before -as since the death of Thamas Kouli Khan; well informed of the -adventures of Prince Heraclius; was personally known to a minister he -sent to Moscow in his first attempt to conquer that country; and am -instructed in the cruel manner of putting out the eyes of conquered -princes, and of cutting away the eyelids of soldiers taken in war, to -make them unfit for service. - -"I have lived in many convents of friars of different orders, been -present at their creation to various degrees, and have assisted at -numberless entertainments upon those occasions. - -"I have been in almost every female nunnery in all Europe (_on account -of my profession_), and could write many volumes on the adventures of -these religious beauties. - -"I have been present at the making of nuns of almost every order, and -assisted at the religious feasts given on those occasions. - -"I have met with a very great variety of singular religious people -called Pilgrims. - -"I have been present at many extraordinary diversions designed for the -amusement of the sovereign, viz. hunting of different sorts of wild -beasts, as in Poland; bull-fighting, as in Spain. - -"I am well acquainted with all the various punishments for different -crimes, as practised in every nation--been present at the putting of -criminals to death by various ways, viz. striking off heads, breaking -on the wheel, &c. - -"I am also well instructed in the different ways of giving the torture -to extract confession--and am no stranger to other singular -punishments, such as impaling, burying alive with head above ground, -&c. - -"And lastly, I have assisted, have seen the manner of embalming dead -bodies of great personages, and am well instructed in the manner -practised in some nations for preserving them entire for ages, with -little alteration of figure from what they were when first deprived of -life.... - -"All must agree that no man ever had a greater variety of matter -worthy to be conveyed to posterity. I shall, therefore, give my best -care to, so to paint my thoughts, and give such a dress of the story -of my life, that tho' I shall talk of the Great, the Least shall not -find cause of offence." - -The occasion of this great man issuing so modest a proposal to the -public is involved in some mystery. It would seem that he determined -to publish his own version of his adventures, in consequence of being -dissatisfied with his son's sketch of them. John Taylor, Junior, was -then resident in Hatton Garden, living as an eye-doctor, and entered -into an arrangement with a publisher, without his father's consent, to -write the Chevalier's biography. Affixed to the indecent pamphlet, -which was the result of this agreement, are the following epistolary -statements:-- - -"MY SON,--If you should unguardedly have suffered your name at the -head of a work which must make us all contemptible, this must be -printed in it as the best apology for yourself and father:-- - - "TO THE PRINTER. - - "Oxford, Jan. 10, 1761. - -"My dear and only son having respectfully represented to me that he -has composed a work, intitled _My Life and Adventures_, and requires -my consent for its publication, notwithstanding I am as yet a stranger -to the composition, and consequently can be no judge of its merits, I -am so well persuaded that my son is in every way incapable of saying -aught of his father but what must redound to his honour and -reputation, and so perfectly convinced of the goodness of his heart, -that it does not seem possible I should err in my judgment, by giving -my consent to a publication of the said work. And as I have long been -employed in writing my own Life and Adventures, which will with all -expedition be published, 'twill hereafter be left with all due -attention to the candid reader, whether the Life of the Father written -by the son, or the Life of the Father written by himself, best -deserves approbation. - - "THE CHEVALIER TAYLOR, - - "Opthalmiater, Pontifical, Imperial, and Royal. - - "* * * The above is a true copy of the letter my Father sent - me. All the answer I can make to the bills he sends about - the town and country is, that I have maintained my mother - these eight years, and do this at the present time; and - that, two years since, I was concerned for him, for which I - have paid near L200. - - "As witness my hand, - "JOHN TAYLOR, _Oculist_." - - "Hatton Garden." - - -It is impossible to say whether these differences were genuine, or -only feigned by the two quacks, in order to keep silly people -gossiping about them. Certainly the accusations brought against the -Chevalier, that he had sponged on his son, and declined to support his -wife, are rather grave ones to introduce into a make-believe quarrel. -But, on the other hand, when the Chevalier's autobiography appeared it -was prefaced with the following dedicatory letter to his son:-- - - "MY DEAR SON,--Can I do ill when I address to you the story - of your father's life? Whose name can be so proper as your - own to be prefixed to a work of this kind? You who was born - to represent me living, when I shall cease to be--born to - pursue that most excellent and important profession to which - I have for so many years labored to be useful--born to - defend my cause and support my fame--may I not _presume_, my - son, that you will defend your father's cause? May I not - _affirm_ that you, my son, will support your father's fame? - After having this said, need I add more than remind - you--that, to a father, nothing can be so dear as a - deserving son--nor state so desirable as that of the man who - holds his successor, and knows him to be worthy. Be - prosperous. Be happy. - - "I am, your affectionate Father, - "THE CHEVALIER JOHN TAYLOR." - - -This unctuous address to "my lion-hearted boy" is equalled in drollery -by many passages of the work itself, which (in the language of the -title-page) "contains all most worthy the attention of a -Traveller--also a dissertation on the Art of Pleasing, with the most -interesting observations on the Force of Prejudice; numberless -adventures, as well amongst nuns and friars as with persons in high -life; with a description of a great variety of the most admirable -relations, which, though told in his well-known peculiar manner, each -one is strictly true, and within the Chevalier's own observations and -knowledge." - -Apart from the bombast of his style, the Chevalier's "well-known -peculiar manner" was remarkable for little besides tautology and a -fantastic arrangement of words. In his orations, when he aimed at -sublimity, he indulged in short sentences each of which commenced with -a genitive case followed by an accusative; after which came the verb -succeeded by the nominative. Thus, at such crises of grandiloquence, -instead of saying, "I will lecture on the wonders of the eye," he -would invert the order to, "Of the eye on the wonders lecture will I." -By doing this, he maintained that he surpassed the finest periods of -Tully! There is a letter in Nichols's "Literary Anecdotes," in which a -lecture given by this mountebank at Northampton is excellently -described. "The doctor," says the writer, "appeared dressed in black, -with a long light flowing ty'd wig; ascended a scaffold behind a large -table raised about two feet from the ground, and covered with an old -piece of tapestry, on which was laid a dark-coloured cafoy -chariot-seat with four black bunches (used upon hearses) tyed to the -corners for tassels, four large candles on each side of the cushion, -and a quart decanter of drinking water, with a half-pint glass, to -moisten his mouth." - -The fellow boasted that he was the author of forty-five works in -different languages. Once he had the audacity to challenge Johnson to -talk Latin with him. The doctor responded with a quotation from -Horace, which the charlatan took to be the doctor's own composition. -"_He said a few words well enough_," Johnson said magnanimously when -he repeated the story to Boswell. "Taylor," said the doctor, "is the -most ignorant man I ever knew, but sprightly; Ward, the dullest." - -John Taylor, Junr., survived his father more than fifteen years, and -to the last had a lucrative business in Hatton Garden. His father had -been oculist to George the Second; but this post, on the death of the -Chevalier, he failed to obtain, it being given to a foreign _protege_ -of the Duke of Bedford's. He made a great noise about the sufferings -of the poor, and proposed to the different parishes of London to -attend the paupers labouring under diseases of the eye at two guineas -a-year for each parish. He was an illiterate, vulgar, and licentious -scoundrel; and yet when he died, on the 17th September, 1787, he was -honoured with a long memoir in the _Gentleman's Magazine_, as one -"whose philanthropy was exerted so fully as to class him with a Hanway -or a Howard." - -If an apology is needed for giving so much space, in a chapter devoted -to the ladies, to the John Taylors, it must be grounded on the fact -that the Chevalier was the son of an honest widow woman who carried on -a respectable business, as an apothecary and doctress, at Norwich. In -this she resembled Mrs. Blood, the wife of the Colonel of that name, -who for years supported herself and son at Romford, by keeping an -apothecary's shop under the name of Weston. Colonel Blood was also -himself a member of the Faculty. For some time, whilst meditating his -_grand coup_, he practised as a doctor in an obscure part of the City, -under the name of Ayliffe. - -Two hundred years since the lady practitioners of medicine in the -provinces not seldom had working for them pupils and assistants of the -opposite sex, and this usage was maintained in secluded districts till -a comparatively recent date. In Houghton's Collection, Nov. 15, 1695, -is the following advertisement,--"If any Apothecary's Widow that keeps -a shop in the country wants a journeyman that has lived 25 years for -himself in London, and has had the conversation of the eminent -physicians of the colledge, I can help to such an one." - - - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -MESSENGER MONSEY. - - -Amongst the celebrities of the medical profession, who have left no -memorial behind them more durable or better known than their wills in -Doctors' Commons, was Messenger Monsey, the great-grandfather of our -ex-Chancellor, Lord Cranworth. - -We do not know whether his Lordship is aware of his descent from the -eccentric physician. Possibly he is not, for the Monseys, though not -altogether of a plebeian stock, were little calculated to throw eclat -over the genealogy of a patrician house. - -Messenger Monsey, who used with a good deal of unnecessary noise to -declare his contempt of the ancestral honours which he in reality -possessed, loved to tell of the humble origin of his family. The first -Duke of Leeds delighted in boasting of his lucky progenitor, Jack -Osborn, the shop lad, who rescued his master's daughter from a watery -grave, in the Thames, and won her hand away from a host of noble -suitors, who wanted--literally, the young lady's _pin_-money. She was -the only child of a wealthy pinmaker carrying on his business on -London Bridge, and the jolly old fellow, instead of disdaining to -bestow his heiress on a 'prentice, exclaimed, "Jack won her, and he -shall wear her!" Dr. Monsey, in the hey-day of his social fame, told -his friends that the first of his ancestors of any note was a baker, -and a retail dealer in hops. At a critical point of this worthy man's -career, when hops were "down" and feathers were "up," to raise a small -sum of money for immediate use he ripped open his beds, sold the -feathers, and stuffed the tick with unsaleable hops. Soon a change in -the market occurred, and once more operating on the couches used by -himself and children, he sold the hops at a profit, and bought back -the feathers. "That's the way, sir, by which my family hopped from -obscurity!" the doctor would conclude. - -We have reason for thinking that this ancestor was the physician's -great-grandfather. As is usually found to be the case, where a man -thinks lightly of the advantages of birth, Messenger was by no means -of despicable extraction. His grandfather was a man of considerable -property, and married Elizabeth Messenger, co-heir of Thomas -Messenger, lord of Whitwell Manor, in the county of Norfolk, a -gentleman by birth and position; and his father, the Rev. Robert -Monsey, a Norfolk rector, married Mary, the daughter of Roger Clopton, -rector of Downham. Of the antiquity and importance of the Cloptons -amongst the gentle families of England this is no place to speak; but -further particulars relative to the Monsey pedigree may be found by -the curious in Bloomfield's "History of Norfolk." On such a descent a -Celt would persuade himself that he represented kings and rulers. -Monsey, like Sydney Smith after him, preferred to cover the whole -question with jolly, manly ridicule, and put it out of sight. - -Messenger Monsey was born in 1693, and received in early life an -excellent education; for though his father at the Revolution threw his -lot in with the nonjurors, and forfeited his living, the worthy -clergyman had a sufficient paternal estate to enable him to rear his -only child without any painful considerations of cost. After spending -five years at St. Mary's Hall, Cambridge, Messenger studied physic for -some time under Sir Benjamin Wrench, at Norwich. Starting on his own -account, he practised for a while at Bury St. Edmunds, in Suffolk, but -with little success. He worked hard, and yet never managed in that -prosperous and beautiful country town to earn more than three hundred -guineas in the same year. If we examined into the successes of medical -celebrities, we should find in a great majority of cases fortune was -won by the aspirant either annexing himself to, and gliding into the -confidence of, a powerful clique, or else by his being through some -lucky accident thrown in the way of a patron. Monsey's rise was of the -latter sort. He was still at Bury, with nothing before him but the -prospect of working all his days as a country doctor, when Lord -Godolphin, son of Queen Anne's Lord Treasurer, and grandson of the -great Duke of Marlborough, was seized, on the road to Newmarket, with -an attack of apoplexy. Bury was the nearest point where medical -assistance could be obtained. Monsey was summoned, and so fascinated -his patient with his conversational powers that his Lordship invited -him to London, and induced him to relinquish his country practice. - -From that time Monsey's fortune was made. He became to the Whigs very -much what, in the previous generation, Radcliffe had been to the -Tories. Sir Robert Walpole genuinely loved him, seizing every -opportunity to enjoy his society, and never doing anything for him; -and Lord Chesterfield was amongst the most zealous trumpeters of his -medical skill. Lively, sagacious, well-read, and brutally sarcastic, -he had for a while a society reputation for wit scarcely inferior to -Swift's; and he lived amongst men well able to judge of wit. Garrick -and he were for many years intimate friends, until, in a contest of -jokes, each of the two brilliant men lost his temper, and they parted -like Roland and Sir Leoline--never to meet again. Garrick probably -would have kept his temper under any other form of ridicule, but he -never ceased to resent Monsey's reflection on his avarice to the -Bishop of Sodor and Man. - -"Garrick is going to quit the stage," observed the Bishop. - -"That he'll never do," answered Monsey, making use of a Norfolk -proverb, "so long as he knows a guinea is cross on one side and pile -on the other." - -This speech was never forgiven. Lord Bath endeavoured to effect a -reconciliation between the divided friends, but his amiable intention -was of no avail. - -"I thank you," said Monsey; "but why will your Lordship trouble -yourself with the squabbles of a Merry Andrew and quack doctor?" - -When the tragedian was on his death-bed, Monsey composed a satire on -the sick man, renewing the attack on his parsimony. Garrick's illness, -however, terminating fatally, the doctor destroyed his verses, but -some scraps of them still remain to show their spirit and power. A -consultation of physicians was represented as being held over the -actor:-- - - "Seven wise physicians lately met, - To save a wretched sinner; - Come, Tom, said Jack, pray let's be quick, - Or I shall lose my dinner. - . . . . . - "Some roared for rhubarb, jalap some, - And some cried out for Dover; - Lets give him something, each man said-- - Why e'en let's give him--over." - -After much learned squabbling, one of the sages proposed to revive the -sinking energies of the poor man by jingling guineas in his ears. The -suggestion was acted upon, when-- - - "Soon as the fav'rite sound he heard, - One faint effort he try'd; - He op'd his eyes, he stretched his hands, - He made one grasp--and dy'd." - -Though, on the grave closing over his antagonist, Monsey suppressed -these lines, he continued to cherish an animosity to the object of -them. The spirit in which, out of respect to death, he drew a period -to their quarrel, was much like that of the Irish peasant in the song, -who tells his ghostly adviser that he forgives Pat Malone with all his -heart (supposing death should get the better of him)--but should he -recover, he means to pay the rascal off roundly. Sir Walter Scott -somewhere tells a story of a Highland chief, in his last moments -declaring that he from the bottom of his heart forgave his old enemy, -the head of a hostile clan--and concluding this Christian avowal with -a final address to his son--"But may all evil light upon ye, Ronald, -if ye e'er forgie the heathen." - -Through Lord Godolphin's interest, Monsey was appointed physician to -Chelsea College, on the death of Dr. Smart. For some time he continued -to reside in St. James's: but on the death of his patron he moved to -Chelsea, and spent the last years of his life in retirement--and to a -certain extent banishment--from the great world. The hospital offices -were then filled by a set of low-born scoundrels, or discharged -servants, whom the ministers of various Cabinets had had some reason -of their own for providing for. The surgeon was that Mr. Ranby who -positively died of rage because Henry Fielding's brother (Sir John) -would not punish a hackney coachman who had been guilty of the high -treason of--being injured and abused by the plaintiff. With this man -Monsey had a tremendous quarrel; but though in the right, he had to -submit to Ranby's powerful connections. - -This affair did not soften his temper to the other functionaries of -the hospital with whom he had to associate at the hall table. His -encounter with the venal elector who had been nominated to a Chelsea -appointment is well known, though an account of it would hurt the -delicacy of these somewhat prudish pages. Of the doctor's insolence -the following is a good story:-- - -A clergyman, who used to bore him with pompous and pedantic talk, was -arguing on some point with Monsey, when the latter exclaimed:-- - -"Sir, if you have faith in your opinion, will you venture a wager upon -it?" - -"I could--but I won't," was the reply. - -"Then," rejoined Monsey, "you have very little wit, or very little -money." The logic of this retort puts one in mind of the eccentric -actor who, under somewhat similar circumstances, asked indignantly, -"Then, sir, how _dare_ you advance a statement in a public room which -you are not prepared to substantiate with a bet!" - -Monsey was a Unitarian, and not at all backward to avow his creed. As -he was riding in Hyde Park with a Mr. Robinson, that gentleman, after -deploring the corrupt morals of the age, said, with very bad taste, -"But, Doctor, I talk with one who believes there is no God." "And I," -retorted Monsey, "with one who believes there are three." Good Mr. -Robinson was so horrified that he clapped spurs to his horse, galloped -off, and never spoke to the doctor again. - -Monsey's Whiggism introduced him to high society, but not to lucrative -practice. Sir Robert Walpole always extoled the merits of his "Norfolk -Doctor," but never advanced his interests. Instead of covering the -great minister with adulation, Monsey treated him like an ordinary -individual, telling him when his jokes were poor, and not hesitating -to worst him in argument. "How happens it," asked Sir Robert, over his -wine, "that nobody will beat me at billiards, or contradict me, but -Dr. Monsey!" "Other people," put in the doctor, "get places--I get a -dinner and praise." The Duke of Grafton treated him even worse. His -Grace staved off paying the physician his bill for attending him and -his family at Windsor, with promises of a place. When "the little -place" fell vacant, Monsey called on the duke, and reminded him of his -promise. "Ecod--ecod--ecod," was the answer, "but the Chamberlain has -just been here to tell me he has promised it to Jack ----." When the -disappointed applicant told the lord-chamberlain what had transpired, -his Lordship replied, "Don't, for the world, tell his Grace; but -before he knew I had promised it, here is a letter he sent me, -soliciting for _a third person_." - -Amongst the vagaries of this eccentric physician was the way in which -he extracted his own teeth. Round the tooth sentenced to be drawn he -fastened securely a strong piece of catgut, to the opposite end of -which he affixed a bullet. With this bullet and a full measure of -powder a pistol was charged. On the trigger being pulled, the -operation was performed effectually and speedily. The doctor could -only rarely prevail on his friends to permit him to remove their teeth -by this original process. Once a gentleman who had agreed to try the -novelty, and had even allowed the apparatus to be adjusted, at the -last moment exclaimed, "Stop, stop, I've changed my mind!" "But I -haven't, and you're a fool and a coward for your pains," answered the -doctor, pulling the trigger. In another instant the tooth was -extracted, much to the timid patient's delight and astonishment. - -At Chelsea, to the last, the doctor saw on friendly terms all the -distinguished medical men of his day. Cheselden, fonder of having his -horses admired than his professional skill extolled, as Pope and -Freind knew, was his frequent visitor. He had also his loves. To Mrs. -Montague, for many years, he presented a copy of verses on the -anniversary of her birth-day. But after his quarrel with Garrick, he -saw but little of the lady, and was rarely, if ever, a visitor at her -magnificent house in Portman Square. Another of his flames, too, was -Miss Berry, of whom the loss still seems to be recent. In his old age, -avarice--the very same failing he condemned so much in Garrick--developed -itself in Monsey. In comparatively early life his mind was in a -flighty state about money matters. For years he was a victim of that -incredulity which makes the capitalist imagine a great and prosperous -country to be the most insecure of all debtors. He preferred investing -his money in any wild speculation to confiding it to the safe custody -of the funds. Even his ready cash he for long could not bring himself -to trust in the hands of a banker. When he left town for a trip, he -had recourse to the most absurd schemes for the protection of his -money. Before setting out, on one occasion, for a journey to Norfolk, -incredulous with regard to cash-boxes and bureaus, he hid a -considerable quantity of gold and notes in the fireplace of his study, -covering them up artistically with cinders and shavings. A month -afterwards, returning (luckily a few days before he was expected), he -found his old house-maid preparing to entertain a few friends at tea -in her master's room. The hospitable domestic was on the point of -lighting the fire, and had just applied a candle to the doctor's -notes, when he entered the room, seized on a pail of water that -chanced to be standing near, and, throwing its contents over the fuel -and the old woman, extinguished the fire and her presence of mind at -the same time. Some of the notes, as it was, were injured, and the -Bank of England made objections to cashing them. - -To the last Monsey acted by his own rules instead of by those of other -people. He lived to extreme old age, dying in his rooms in Chelsea -College, on December 26th, 1788, in his ninety-fifth year; and his -will was as remarkable as any other feature of his career. To a young -lady mentioned in it, with the most lavish encomiums on her wit, -taste, and elegance, was left an old battered snuff-box--not worth -sixpence; and to another young lady, whom the testator says he -intended to have enriched with a handsome legacy, he leaves the -gratifying assurance that he changed his mind on finding her "a pert, -conceited minx." After inveighing against bishops, deans, and -chapters, he left an annuity to two clergymen who had resigned their -preferment on account of the Athanasian doctrine. He directed that his -body should not be insulted with any funeral ceremony, but should -undergo dissection; after which, the "remainder of my carcase" (to use -his own words) "may be put into a hole, or crammed into a box with -holes, and thrown into the Thames." In obedience to this part of the -will, Mr. Forster, surgeon, of Union Court, Broad Street, dissected -the body, and delivered a lecture on it to the medical students in the -theatre of Guy's Hospital. The bulk of the doctor's fortune, amounting -to about L16,000, was left to his only daughter for life, and after -her demise, by a complicated entail, to her _female_ descendants. This -only child, Charlotte Monsey, married William Alexander, a -linen-draper in Cateaton Street, City, and had a numerous family. One -of her daughters married the Rev. Edmund Rolfe, rector of Cockley -Clay, Norfolk, of which union Robert Monsey Rolfe, Baron Cranworth of -Cranworth, county of Norfolk, is the offspring. - -Before making the above-named and final disposition of his body, the -old man found vent for his ferocious cynicism and vulgar infidelity in -the following epitaph, which is scarcely less characteristic of the -society in which the writer had lived, than it is of the writer -himself:-- - - "MOUNSEY'S EPITAPH, WRITTEN BY HIMSELF." - - "Here lie my old bones; my vexation now ends; - I have lived much too long for myself and my friends. - As to churches and churchyards, which men may call holy, - 'Tis a rank piece of priestcraft, and founded on folly. - What the next world may be never troubled my pate; - And be what it may, I beseech you, O fate, - When the bodies of millions rise up in a riot, - To let the old carcase of Mounsey be quiet." - -Unpleasant old scamp though he in many respects was, Monsey retains -even at this day so firm a hold of the affections of all students who -like ferreting into the social history of the last century, that no -chance letter of his writing is devoid of interest. The following -specimen of his epistolary style, addressed to his fair patient, the -accomplished and celebrated Mrs. Montague (his acquaintance with which -lady has already been alluded to), is transcribed from the original -manuscript in the possession of Dr. Diamond:-- - - "4th of March, a minute past 12. - "DEAR MADAME, - - "Now dead men's ghosts are getting out of their graves, and - there comes the ghost of a doctor in a white sheet to wait - upon you. Your Tokay is got into my head and your love into - my heart, and they both join to club their thanks for the - pleasantest day I have spent these seven years; and to my - comfort I find a man may be in love, and be happy, provided - he does not go to book for it. I could have trusted till - the morning to show my gratitude, but the Tokay wou'd have - evaporated, and then I might have had nothing to talk of but - an ache in my head and pain in my heart. Bacchus and Cupid - should always be together, for the young gentleman is very - apt to be silly when he's alone by himself; but when old - toss-pot is with him, if he pretends to fall a whining, he - hits him a cursed knock on the pate, and says: 'Drink about, - you....' 'No, Bacchus, don't be in a passion. Upon my soul - you have knocked out one of my eyes!' 'Eyes, ye scroundrel? - Why, you have never had one since you were born.... Apollo - would have couched you, but your mother said no; for then, - says she, "he can never be blamed for his shot, any more - than the people that are shot at." She knew 'twould bring - grist to her mill; for what with those who pretended they - were in love and were not so, and those who were really so - and wouldn't own it, I shall find rantum scantum work at - Cyprus, Paphos, and Cythera. Some will come to acquire what - they never had, and others to get rid of what they find very - troublesome, and I shall mind none of 'em.' You see how the - goddess foresaw and predicted my misfortunes. She knew I was - a sincere votary, and that I was a martyr to her serene - influence. Then how could you use me so like an Hyrcanian - tygress, and be such an infidel to misery; that though I - hate you mortally, I wish you may feel but one poor - _half-quarter-of-an-hour_ before you slip your breath--how - shall I rejoice at your horrid agonies? _Nec enim lex - justior ulla Quam necis artifices arte perire sua_--Remember - Me. - - "My ills have disturbed my brain, and the revival of old - ideas has set it a-boyling, that, till I have skim'd off - the froth, I can't pretend to say a word for myself; and by - the time I have cleared off the scum, the little grudge that - is left may be burnt to the bottom of the pot. - - "My mortal injuries have turned my mind, - And I could hate myself for being blind - But why should I thus rave of eyes and looks? - All I have felt is fancy--all from Books. - I stole my charmers from the cuts of Quarles, - And my dear Clarissa from the grand Sir Charles. - But if his mam or Cupid live above, - Who have revenge in store for injured love, - O Venus, send dire ruin on her head, - Strike the Destroyer, lay the Victress dead; - Kill the Triumphress, and avenge my wrong - In height of pomp, while she is warm and young. - Grant I may stand and dart her with my eyes - While in the fiercest pangs of life she lies, - Pursue her sportive soul and shoot it as it flies, - And cry with joy--There Montague lies flat, - Who wronged my passion with her barbarous Chat, - And was as cruel as a Cat to Rat, - As cat to rat--ay, ay, as cat to rat. - And when you got her up into your house, - Clinch yr, fair fist, and give her such a souse: - There, Hussy, take you that for all your Prate, - Your barbarous heart I do a-bo-mi-nate. - I'll take your part, my dearest faithful Doctor! - I've told my son, and see how he has mockt her! - He'll fire her soul and make her rant and rave; - See how she groans to be old Vulcan's slave. - The fatal bow is bent. Shoot, Cupid, shoot, - And there's your Montague all over soot. - Now say no more my little Boy is blind, - For sure this tyrant he has paid in kind. - She fondly thought to captivate a lord. - A lord, sweet queen? 'Tis true, upon my word. - And what's his name? His name? Why-- - And thought her parts and wit the feat had done. - But he had parts and wit as well as she. - Why then, 'tis strange those folks did not agree. - Agree? Why, had she lived one moment longer, - His love was strong, but madam's grew much stronger. - _Hiatus valde deflendus._ - So for her long neglect of Venus' altar - I changed Cu's Bowstring to a silken Halter; - I made the noose, and Cupid drew the knot. - Dear mam! says he, don't let her lie and rot, - She is too pretty. Hold your tongue, you sot! - The pretty blockhead? None of yr. rogue's tricks. - Ask her, she'll own she's turned of thirty-six. - I was but twenty when I got the apple, - And let me tell you, 'twas a cursed grapple. - Had I but staid till I was twenty-five, - I'ad surely lost it, as you're now alive! - Paris had said to Juno and Minerva, - Ladies, I'm yours, and shall be glad to serve yer; - I must have bowed to wisdom and to power. - And Troy had stood it to this very hour, - Homer had never wrote, nor wits had read - Achilles' anger or Patroclus dead. - We gods and goddesses had lived in riot, - And the blind fool had let us all be quiet. - Mortals had never been stunn'd with!!!!!!!-- - Nor Virgil's wooden horse play'd Hocus Pocus. - Hang the two Bards! But Montague is pretty. - Sirrah, you lie; but I'll allow she's witty. - Well! but I'm told she was so at fifteen, - Ay, and the veriest so that e'er was seen. - Why that I own; and I myself---- - - "But, hold! as in all probability I am going to tell a - parcel of cursed lies, I'll travel no further, lay down my - presumptuous pen, and go to bed; for it's half-past two, and - two hours and an half is full long enough to write nonsense - at one time. You see what it is to give a Goth Tokay: you - manure your land with filth, and it produces Tokay; you - enrich a man with Tokay, and he brings forth the froth and - filth of nonsense. You will learn how to bestow it better - another time. I hope what you took yourself had a better, or - at least no bad, effect. I wish you had wrote me a note - after your first sleep. There wou'd have been your sublime - double-distilled, treble-refined wit. I shouldn't have known - it to be yours if it could have been anybody's else. - - "Pray don't show these humble rhimes to R----y. That puppy - will write notes upon 'em or perhaps paint 'em upon - sign-posts, and make 'em into an invitation to draw people - to see the Camel and Dromedary--for I see he can make - anything of anything; but, after all, why should I be - afraid? Perhaps he might make something of nothing. I have - wrote in heroics. Sure the wretch will have a reverence for - heroics, especially for such as he never saw before, and - never may again. Well, upon my life I will go to bed--'tis a - burning shame to sit up so. I lie, for my fire is out, and - so will my candle too if I write a word more. - - "So I will only make my mark. =X= - - "God eternally bless and preserve you from such writers." - - - "March 5th, 12 o'clock. - "DEAR MRS. MONTAGUE, - - "My fever has been so great that I have not had any time to - write to you in such a manner as to try and convince you - that I had recovered my senses, and I could write a sober - line. Pray, how do you do after your wine and its effects on - you, as well as upon me? You are grown a right down rake, - and I never expect you for a patient again as long as we - live, the last relation I should like to stand to you in, - and which nothing could make bearable but serving you, and - that is a _J'ay pays_ for all my misery in serving you ill. - - "I am called out, so adieu." - - "March 6th. - - "How do you stand this flabby weather? I tremble to hear, - but want to hear of all things. If you have done with my - stupid West India Ly., pray send 'em, for they go to-morrow - or next day at latest. 'Tis hardly worth while to trouble - Ld L with so much chaff and so little wheat--then why you! - - "Very true. 'Tis a sad thing to have to do with a fool, who - can't keep his nonsense to himself. You know I am a rose, - but I have terrible prickles. Dear madam, adieu. Pray God I - may hear you are well, or that He will enable me to make you - so, for you must not be sick or die. I'll find fools and - rogues enough to be that for you, that are good for nothing - else, and hardly, very hardly, good enough for that. Adieu, - Adieu! I say Adieu, Adieu. - - "M. M." - -Truly did Dr. Messenger Monsey understand the art of writing a long -letter about nothing. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII. - -AKENSIDE. - - -There were two Akensides--Akenside the poet, and Akenside the man; and -of the _man_ Akenside there were numerous subdivisions. Remarkable as -a poet, he was even yet more noteworthy a private individual in his -extreme inconsistency. No character is more commonplace than the one -to which is ordinarily applied the word contradictory; but Akenside -was a curiosity from the extravagance in which this form of "the -commonplace" exhibited itself in his disposition and manners. - -By turns he was placid, irritable, simple, affected, gracious, -haughty, magnanimous, mean, benevolent, harsh, and sometimes even -brutal. At times he was marked by a childlike docility, and at other -times his vanity and arrogance displayed him almost as a madman. Of -plebeian extraction, he was ashamed of his origin, and yet was -throughout life the champion of popular interests. Of his real -humanity there can be no doubt, and yet in his demeanour to the -unfortunate creatures whom, in his capacity of a hospital-physician, -he had to attend, he was always supercilious, and often cruel. - -Like Byron, he was lame, one of his legs being shorter than the other; -and of this personal disfigurement he was even more sensitive than was -the author of "Childe Harold" of his deformity. When his eye fell on -it he would blush, for it reminded him of the ignoble condition in -which he was born. His father was a butcher at Newcastle-upon-Tyne; -and one of his cleavers, falling from the shop-block, had irremediably -injured the poet's foot, when he was still a little child. - -Akenside was not only the son of a butcher--but, worse still, a -Nonconformist butcher; and from an early period of his life he was -destined to be a sectarian minister. In his nineteenth year he was -sent to Edinburgh to prosecute his theological studies, the expenses -of this educational course being in part defrayed by the Dissenters' -Society. But he speedily discovered that he had made a wrong start, -and persuaded his father to refund the money the Society had advanced, -and to be himself at the cost of educating him as a physician. The -honest tradesman was a liberal and affectionate parent. Mark remained -three years at Edinburgh, a member of the Medical Society, and an -industrious student. On leaving Edinburgh he practised for a short -time as a surgeon at Newcastle; after which he went to Leyden, and -having spent three months in that university took his degree of doctor -of physic, May 16, 1744. At Leyden he became warmly attached to a -fellow-student named Dyson; and wonderful to be related, the two -friends, notwithstanding one was under heavy pecuniary obligations to -the other, and they were very unlike each other in some of their -principal characteristics, played the part of Pylades and Orestes, -even into the Valley of Death. Akenside was poor, ardent, and of a -nervous, poetic temperament. Dyson was rich, sober, and -matter-of-fact, a prudent place-holder. He rose to be clerk of the -House of Commons, and a Lord of the Treasury; but the atmosphere of -political circles and the excitement of public life never caused his -heart to forget its early attachment. Whilst the poet lived Dyson was -his munificent patron, and when death had stepped in between them, his -literary executor. Indeed, he allowed him for years no less a sum than -L300 per annum. - -Akenside was never very successful as a physician, although he -thoroughly understood his profession, and in some important -particulars advanced its science. Dyson introduced him into good -society, and recommended him to all his friends; but the greatest -income Akenside ever made was most probably less than what he obtained -from his friend's generosity. Still, he must have earned something, -for he managed to keep a carriage and pair of horses; and L300 per -annum, although a hundred years ago that sum went nearly twice as far -as it would now, could not have supported the equipage. His want of -patients can easily be accounted for. He was a vain, tempestuous, -crotchety little man, little qualified to override the prejudices -which vulgar and ignorant people cherish against lawyers and -physicians who have capacity and energy enough to distinguish -themselves in any way out of the ordinary track of their professional -duties. - -He was admitted, by mandamus, to a doctor's degree at Cambridge; and -became a fellow of the Royal Society, and a fellow of the Royal -College of Physicians. He tried his luck at Northampton, and found he -was not needed there; he became an inhabitant of Hampstead, but failed -to ingratiate himself with the opulent gentry who in those days -resided in that suburb; and lastly fixed himself in Bloomsbury Square -(aetat. 27), where he resided till his death. After some delay, he -became a physician of St. Thomas's Hospital, and an assistant -physician of Christ's Hospital--read the Gulstonian Lectures before -the College of Physicians, in 1755--and was also Krohnian Lecturer. In -speeches and papers to learned societies, and to various medical -treatises, amongst which may be mentioned his "De Dysentaria -Commentarius," he tried to wheedle himself into practice. But his -efforts were of no avail. Sir John Hawkins, in his absurd Life of Dr. -Johnson, tells a good story of Saxby's rudeness to the author of the -"Pleasures of Imagination." Saxby was a custom-house clerk, and made -himself liked in society by saying the rude things which other people -had the benevolence to feel, but lacked the hardihood to utter. One -evening, at a party, Akenside argued, with much warmth and more -tediousness, that physicians were better and wiser men than the world -ordinarily thought. - -"Doctor," said Saxby, "after all you have said, my opinion of the -profession is this: the ancients endeavoured to make it a science, and -failed; and the moderns to make it a trade, and succeeded." - -He was not liked at St. Thomas's Hospital. The gentle Lettsom, whose -mild poetic nature had surrounded the author of "The Pleasures of -Imagination" with a halo of romantic interest, when he entered himself -a student of that school, was shocked at finding the idol of his -admiration so irritable and unkindly a man. He was, according to -Lettsom's reminiscences, thin and pale, and of a strumous countenance. -His injured leg was lengthened by a false heel. In dress he was -scrupulously neat and delicate, always having on his head a -well-powdered white wig, and by his side a long sword. Any want of -respect to him threw him into a fit of anger. One amongst the students -who accompanied him on a certain occasion round the wards spat on the -floor behind the physician. Akenside turned sharply on his heel, and -demanded who it was that dared to spit in his face. To the poor women -who applied to him for medical advice he exhibited his dislike in the -most offensive and cruel manner. The students who watched him closely, -and knew the severe disappointment his affections had suffered in -early life, whispered to the novice that the poet-physician's -moroseness to his female patients was a consequence of his having felt -the goads of despised love. The fastidiousness of the little fellow at -having to come so closely in contact with the vulgar rabble, induced -him sometimes to make the stronger patients precede him with brooms -and clear a way for him through the crowd of diseased wretches. Bravo, -my butcher's boy! This story of Akenside and his lictors, pushing back -the unsightly mob of lepers, ought to be read side by side with that -of the proud Duke of Somerset, who, when on a journey, used to send -outriders before him to clear the roads, and prevent vulgar eyes from -looking at him. - -On one occasion Akenside ordered an unfortunate male patient of St. -Thomas's to take boluses of bark. The poor fellow complained that he -could not swallow them. Akenside was so incensed at the man's -presuming to have an opinion on the subject, that he ordered him to be -turned out of the hospital, saying, "He shall not die under my care." -A man who would treat his _poor_ patients in this way did not deserve -to have any _rich_ ones. These excesses of folly and brutality, -however, ere long reached the ears of honest Richard Chester, one of -the governors, and that good fellow gave the doctor a good scolding, -roundly telling him, "Know, thou art a servant of this charity." - -Akenside's self-love received a more humorous stab than the poke -administered by Richard Chester's blunt cudgel, from Mr. Baker, one of -the surgeons at St. Thomas's. To appreciate the full force of the -story, the reader must recollect that the jealousy, which still exists -between the two branches of the medical profession, was a century -since so violent that even considerations of interest failed in some -cases to induce eminent surgeons and physicians to act together. One -of Baker's sons was the victim of epilepsy, and frequent fits had -impaired his faculties. Baker was naturally acutely sensitive of his -child's misfortune, and when Akenside had the bad taste to ask to what -study the afflicted lad intended to apply, the father answered, "I -find he is not capable of making a surgeon, so I have sent him to -Edinburgh to make a physician of him." Akenside felt this sarcasm so -much, that he for a long time afterward refused to hold any -intercourse with Baker. - -But Akenside had many excuses for his irritability. He was very -ambitious, and failed to achieve that success which the possession of -great powers warranted him in regarding as his due. It was said of -Garth that no physician understood his art more, or his trade less! -and this, as Mr. Bucke, in his beautiful "Life of Arkenside," remarks, -was equally true of the doctor of St. Thomas's. He had a thirst for -human praise and worldly success, and a temperament that caused him, -notwithstanding all his sarcasms against love, to estimate at their -full worth the joys of married life; yet he lived all his days a poor -man, and died a bachelor. Other griefs also contributed to sour his -temper. His lot was cast in times that could not justly appreciate his -literary excellences. His sincere admiration of classic literature and -art and manners was regarded by the coarse herd of rich and stupid -Londoners as so perfectly ridiculous, that when Smollett had the bad -taste to introduce him into _Peregrine Pickle_, as the physician who -gives a dinner after the manner of the ancients, the applause was -general, and every city tradesman, with scholarship enough to read the -novel, had a laugh at the expense of a man who has some claims to be -regarded as the greatest literary genius of his time. The polished and -refined circles of English life paid homage to his genius, but even in -them he failed to meet with the cordial recognition he deserved. -Johnson, though he placed him above Gray and Mason, did not do him -justice. Boswell didn't see much in him. Horace Walpole differed from -the friend who asked him to admire the "Pleasures of Imagination." -The poets and wits of his own time had a high respect for his critical -opinion, and admitted the excellence of his poetry--but almost -invariably with some qualification. And Akenside was one who thirsted -for the complete assent of the applauding world. He died after a brief -illness in his forty-ninth year, on the 23rd of June, 1770; and we -doubt not, when the Angel of Death touched him, the heart that ceased -to beat was one that had known much sorrow. - -Akenside's poetical career was one of unfulfilled promise. At the age -of twenty-three he had written "The Pleasures of the Imagination." -Pope was so struck with the merits of the poem, that when Dodsley -consulted him about the price set on it by the author (L120), he told -him to make no niggardly offer, for it was the work of no every-day -writer. But he never produced another great work. Impressed with the -imperfections of his achievement, he occupied himself with incessantly -touching and re-touching it up, till he came to the unwise -determination of re-writing it. He did not live to accomplish this -suicidal task; but the portion of it which came to the public was -inferior to the original poem, both in power and art. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX. - -LETTSOM. - - -High amongst literary, and higher yet amongst benevolent, physicians -must be ranked John Coakley Lettsom, formerly president of the -Philosophical Society of London. A West Indian, and the son of a -planter, he was born on one of his father's little islands, Van Dyke, -near Tortola, in the year 1744. Though bred a Quaker, he kept his -heart so free from sectarianism, and his life so entirely void of the -formality and puritanic asceticism of the Friends, that his ordinary -acquaintance marvelled at his continuing to wear the costume of the -brotherhood. At six years of age he was sent to England for education, -being for that purpose confided to the protection of Mr. Fothergill, -of Warrington, a Quaker minister, and younger brother of Dr. John -Fothergill. After receiving a poor preparatory education, he was -apprenticed to a Yorkshire apothecary, named Sutcliffe, who, by -industry and intelligence, had raised himself from the position of a -weaver to that of the first medical practitioner of Settle. In the -last century a West Indian was, to the inhabitants of a provincial -district, a rare curiosity; and Sutcliffe's surgery, on the day that -Lettsom entered it in his fifteenth year, was surrounded by a dense -crowd of gaping rustics, anxious to see a young gentleman accustomed -to walk on his head. This extraordinary demonstration of curiosity was -owing to the merry humour of Sutcliffe's senior apprentice, who had -informed the people that the new pupil, who would soon join him, came -from a country where the feet of the inhabitants were placed in an -exactly opposite direction to those of Englishmen. - -Sutcliffe did not find his new apprentice a very handy one. "Thou -mayest make a physician, but I think not a good apothecary," the old -man was in the habit of saying; and the prediction in due course -turned out a correct one. Having served an apprenticeship of five -years, and walked for two the wards of St. Thomas's Hospital, where -Akenside was a physician, conspicuous for supercilious manner and want -of feeling, Lettsom returned to the West Indies, and settled as a -medical practitioner in Tortola. He practised there only five months, -earning in that time the astonishing sum of L2000; when, ambitious of -achieving a high professional position, he returned to Europe, visited -the medical schools of Paris and Edinburgh, took his degree of M.D. at -Leyden on the 20th of June, 1769, was admitted a licentiate of the -Royal College of Physicians of London in the same year, and in 1770 -was elected a fellow of the Society of Antiquaries. - -From this period till his death, in 1815 (Nov. 20), he was one of the -most prominent figures in the scientific world of London. As a -physician he was a most fortunate man; for without any high reputation -for professional acquirements, and with the exact reverse of a good -preliminary education, he made a larger income than any other -physician of the same time. Dr. John Fothergill never made more than -L5000 in one year; but Lettsom earned L3600 in 1783--L3900 in -1784--L4015 in 1785-and L4500 in 1786. After that period his practice -rapidly increased, so that in some years his receipts were as much as -L12,000. But although he pocketed such large sums, half his labours -were entirely gratuitous. Necessitous clergymen and literary men he -invariably attended with unusual solicitude and attention, but without -ever taking a fee for his services. Indeed, generosity was the ruling -feature of his life. Although he burdened himself with the public -business of his profession, was so incessantly on the move from one -patient to another that he habitually knocked up three pairs of horses -a-day, and had always some literary work or other upon his desk, he -nevertheless found time to do an amount of labour, in establishing -charitable institutions and visiting the indigent sick, that would by -itself have made a reputation for an ordinary person. - -To give the mere list of his separate benevolent services would be to -write a book about them. The General Dispensary, the Finsbury -Dispensary, the Surrey Dispensary, and the Margate Sea-bathing -Infirmary, originated in his exertions; and he was one of the first -projectors of--the Philanthropic Society, St. Georges-in-the-Fields, -for the Prevention of Crimes, and the Reform of the Criminal Poor; the -Society for the Discharge and Relief of Persons Imprisoned for Small -Debts; the Asylum for the Indigent Deaf and Dumb; the Institution for -the Relief and Employment of the Indigent Blind; and the Royal Humane -Society, for the recovery of the apparently drowned or dead. And year -by year his pen sent forth some publication or other to promote the -welfare of the poor, and succour the afflicted. Of course there were -crowds of clever spectators of the world's work, who smiled as the -doctor's carriage passed them in the streets, and said he was a deuced -clever fellow to make ten thousand a-year so easily; and that, after -all, philanthropy was not a bad trade. But Lettsom was no calculating -humanitarian, with a tongue discoursing eloquently on the sufferings -of mankind, and an eye on the sharp look-out for his own interest. -What he was before the full stare of the world, that he was also in -his own secret heart, and those private ways into which hypocrisy -cannot enter. At the outset of his life, when only twenty-three years -old, he liberated his slaves--although they constituted almost his -entire worldly wealth, and he was anxious to achieve distinction in a -profession that offers peculiar difficulties to needy aspirants. And -when his career was drawing to a close, he had to part with his -beloved countryseat because he had impoverished himself by lavish -generosity to the unfortunate. - -There was no sanctimonious affectation in the man. He wore a drab coat -and gaiters, and made the Quaker's use of _Thou_ and _Thee_; but he -held himself altogether apart from the prejudices of his sect. A poet -himself of some respectability, he delighted in every variety of -literature, and was ready to shake any man by the hand--Jew or -Gentile. He liked pictures and works of sculpture, and spent large -sums upon them; into the various scientific movements of the time he -threw himself with all the energy of his nature; and he disbursed a -fortune in surrounding himself at Camberwell with plants from the -tropics. He liked good wine, but never partook of it to excess, -although his enemies were ready to suggest that he was always glad to -avail himself of an excuse for getting intoxicated. And he was such a -devoted admirer of the fair sex, that the jealous swarm of needy men -who envied him his prosperity, had some countenance for their slander -that he was a Quaker debauchee. He married young, and his wife -outlived him; but as a husband he was as faithful as he proved in -every other relation of life. - -Saturday was the day he devoted to entertaining his friends at Grove -Hill, Camberwell; and rare parties there gathered round -him--celebrities from every region of the civilized world, and the -best "good fellows" of London. Boswell was one of his most frequent -guests, and, in an ode to Charles Dilly, celebrated the beauties of -the physician's seat and his humane disposition:-- - - "My cordial Friend, still prompt to lend - Your cash when I have need on't; - We both must bear our load of care-- - At least we talk and read on't." - - "Yet are we gay in ev'ry way, - Not minding where the joke lie; - On Saturday at bowls we play - At Camberwell with Coakley." - - "Methinks you laugh to hear but half - The name of Dr. Lettsom: - From him of good--talk, liquors, food-- - His guests will always get some." - - "And guests has he, in ev'ry degree, - Of decent estimation: - His liberal mind holds all mankind - As an extended Nation. - - "O'er Lettsom's cheer we've met a peer-- - A peer--no less than Lansdowne! - Of whom each dull and envious skull - Absurdly cries--'The man's down!' - - "Down do they say? How then, I pray, - His king and country prize him! - Through the whole world known, his peace alone - Is sure t' immortalize him. - - "Lettsom we view a _Quaker_ true, - 'Tis clear he's so in one sense: - His _spirit_, strong, and ever young, - Refutes pert Priestley's nonsense. - - "In fossils he is deep, we see; - Nor knows Beasts, Fishes, Birds ill; - With plants not few, some from Pelew, - And wondrous Mangel Wurzel! - - "West India bred, warm heart, cool head, - The city's first physician; - By schemes humane--want, sickness, pain, - To aid in his ambition. - - "From terrace high he feasts his eye, - When practice grants a furlough; - And, while it roves o'er Dulwich groves, - Looks down--even upon Thurlow." - -The concluding line is an allusion to the Lord Chancellor's residence -at Dulwich. - -In person, Lettsom was tall and thin--indeed, almost attenuated: his -face was deeply lined, indicating firmness quite as much as -benevolence; and his complexion was of a dark yellow hue. His -eccentricities were numerous. Like the founder of his sect, he would -not allow even respect for royalty to make an alteration in his -costume which his conscience did not approve; and George III., who -entertained a warm regard for him, allowed him to appear at Court in -the ordinary Quaker garb, and to kiss his hand, though he had neither -powder on his head, nor a sword by his side. Lettsom responded to his -sovereign's courtesy by presenting him with some rare and -unpurchasable medals. - -Though his writings show him to have been an enlightened physician for -his time, his system of practice was not of course free from the -violent measures which were universally believed in during the last -century. He used to say of himself, - - "When patients sick to me apply, - I physics, bleeds and sweats 'em; - Then--if they choose to die, - What's that to me--I lets 'em."--(I. Lettsom.) - -But his prescriptions were not invariably of a kind calculated to -depress the system of his patient. On one occasion an old American -merchant, who had been ruined by the rupture between the colonies and -the mother country, requested his attendance and professional advice. -The unfortunate man was seventy-four years of age, and bowed down with -the weight of his calamities. - -"Those trees, doctor," said the sick man, looking out of his bed-room -window over his lawn, "I planted, and have lived to see some of them -too old to bear fruit; they are part of my family: and my children, -still dearer to me, must quit this residence, which was the delight of -my youth, and the hope of my old age." - -The Quaker physician was deeply affected by these pathetic words, and -the impressive tone with which they were uttered. He spoke a few words -of comfort, and quitted the room, leaving on the table as his -prescription--a cheque for a large sum of money. Nor did his goodness -end there. He purchased the house of his patient's creditors, and -presented it to him for life. - -As Lettsom was travelling in the neighbourhood of London, a highwayman -stopped his carriage, and, putting a pistol into the window, demanded -him to surrender his money. The faltering voice and hesitation of the -robber showed that he had only recently taken to his perilous -vocation, and his appearance showed him to be a young man who had -moved in the gentle ranks of life. Lettsom quickly responded that he -was sorry to see such a well-looking young man pursuing a course which -would inevitably bring him to ruin; that he would _give_ him freely -all the money he had about him, and would try to put him in a better -way of life, if he liked to call on him in the course of a few days. -As the doctor said this, he gave his card to the young man, who turned -out to be another victim of the American war. He had only made one -similar attempt on the road before, and had been driven to lawless -action by unexpected pennilessness. Lettsom endeavoured in vain to -procure aid for his _protege_ from the commissioners for relieving the -American sufferers; but eventually the Queen, interested in the young -man's case, presented him with a commission in the army; and in a -brief military career, that was cut short by yellow fever in the West -Indies, he distinguished himself so much that his name appeared twice -in the _Gazette_. - -On one of his benevolent excursions the doctor found his way into the -squalid garret of a poor woman who had seen better days. With the -language and deportment of a lady she begged the physician to give -her a prescription. After inquiring carefully into her case, he wrote -on a slip of paper to the overseers of the parish-- - -"A shilling per diem for Mrs Moreton. Money, not physic, will cure -her. - "LETTSOM." - -Of all Lettsom's numerous works, including his contributions to the -_Gentleman's Magazine_, under the signature of "Mottles," the anagram -of his own name, the one most known to the general reader, is the -"History of some of the Effects of Hard Drinking." It concludes with a -scale of Temperance and Intemperance, in imitation of a thermometer. -To each of the two conditions seventy degrees are allotted. Against -the seventieth (or highest) degree of Temperance is marked "Water," -under which, at distances of ten degrees, follow "Milk-and-Water," -"Small Beer," "Cyder and Perry," "Wine," "Porter," "Strong Beer." The -tenth degree of Intemperance is "Punch"; the twentieth, "Toddy and -Crank"; the thirtieth, "Grog and Brandy and Water"; the fortieth, -"Flip and Shrub"; the fiftieth, "Bitters infused in Spirits, -Usquebaugh, Hysteric Water"; the sixtieth, "Gin, Aniseed, Brandy, Rum, -and Whisky," in the morning; the seventieth, like the sixtieth, only -taken day and night. Then follow, in tabular order, the vices, -diseases, and punishments of the different stages of Intemperance. The -mere enumeration of them ought to keep the most confirmed toper sober -for the rest of his days:-- - -"_Vices._--Idleness, Peevishness, Quarrelling, Fighting, Lying, -Swearing, Obscenity, Swindling, Perjury, Burglary, Murder, Suicide. - -"_Diseases._--Sickness, Tremors of the Hands in the Morning, -Bloatedness, Inflamed Eyes, Red Nose and Face, Sore and Swelled Legs, -Jaundice, Pains in the Limbs, Dropsy, Epilepsy, Melancholy, Madness, -Palsy, Apoplexy, Death. - -"_Punishments._--Debt, Black Eyes, Rags, Hunger, Hospital, Poor-house, -Jail, Whipping, the Hulks, Botany Bay, Gallows!" - -This reads like Hogarth's Gin Lane. - - - - -CHAPTER XX. - -A FEW MORE QUACKS. - - The term quack is applicable to all who, by pompous - pretences, mean insinuations, and indirect promises, - endeavour to obtain that confidence to which neither - education, merit, nor experience entitles them.--_Samuel - Parr's Definition._ - - -Of London's modern quacks, one of the most daring was James Graham, M. -D., of Edinburgh, who introduced into England the juggleries of -Mesmer, profiting by them in this country scarcely less than his -master did on the Continent. His brother married Catherine Macaulay, -the author of the immortal History of England, which no one now-a-days -reads; the admired of Horace Walpole; the lady whose statue during her -life-time, was erected in the chancel of the church of St. Stephen's, -Walbrook. Graham's sister was married to Dr. Arnold, of Leicester, the -author of a valuable book on Insanity. - -With a little intellect and more knavery, Dr. Graham ran a course very -similar to Mesmer. Emerging from obscurity in or about the year 1780, -he established himself in a spacious mansion in the Royal Terrace, -Adelphi, overlooking the Thames, and midway between the Blackfriars -and Westminster Bridges. The river front of the house was ornamented -with classic pillars; and inscribed over the principal entrance, in -gilt letters on a white compartment, was "Templum AEsculapio Sacrum." -The "Temple of Health," as it was usually spoken of in London, quickly -became a place of fashionable resort. Its spacious rooms were supplied -with furniture made to be stared at--sphynxes, dragons breathing -flame, marble statues, paintings, medico-electric apparatus, rich -curtains and draperies, stained glass windows, stands of armour, -immense pillars and globes of glass, and remarkably arranged plates of -burnished steel. Luxurious couches were arranged in the recesses of -the apartments, whereon languid visitors were invited to rest; whilst -the senses were fascinated with strains of gentle music, and the -perfumes of spices burnt in swinging censers. The most sacred shrine -of the edifice stood in the centre of "The Great Apollo Apartment," -described by the magician in the following terms:--"This room is -upwards of thirty feet long, by twenty wide, and full fifteen feet -high in the ceiling; on entering which, words can convey no adequate -idea of the astonishment and awful sublimity which seizes the mind of -every spectator. The first object which strikes the eye, astonishes, -expands, and ennobles the soul of the beholder, is a magnificent -temple, sacred to health, and dedicated to Apollo. In this tremendous -edifice are combined or singly dispensed the irresistible and -salubrious influences of electricity, or the elementary fire, air, and -magnetism; three of the greatest of those agents of universal -principles, which, pervading all created being and substances that we -are acquainted with, connect, animate, and keep together all -nature;--or, in other words, principles which constitute, as it were, -the various faculties of the material soul of the universe: _the -Eternally Supreme Jehovah Himself_ being the essential source--the -Life of that Life--the Agent of those Agents--the Soul of that -Soul--the All-creating, all-sustaining, all-blessing God!--not of this -world alone--not of the other still greater worlds which we know -compose our solar system! Not the creator, the soul, the preserver of -this world alone--or of any of those which we have seen roll with -uninterrupted harmony for so many thousands of years!--not the God of -the millions of myriads of worlds, of systems, and of various ranks -and orders of beings and intelligences which probably compose the -aggregate of the grand, the vast, the incomprehensible system of the -universe!--but the eternal, infinitely wise, and infinitely powerful, -infinitely good God of the whole--the Great Sun of the Universe!" - -This blasphemy was regarded in Bond Street and Mayfair as inspired -wisdom. It was held to be wicked not to believe in Dr. Graham. The -"Temple" was crowded with the noble and wealthy; and Graham, mingling -the madness of a religious enthusiast with the craft of a charlatan, -preached to his visitors and prayed over them with the zeal of Joanna -Southcote. He composed a form of prayer to be used in the Temple, -called "the Christian's Universal Prayer," a long rigmarole of -spasmodic nonsense, to the printed edition of which the author affixed -the following note: "The first idea of writing this prayer was -suggested by hearing, one evening, the celebrated Mr Fischer play on -the hautboy, with inimitable sweetness, _his long-winded_ variations -on some old tunes. I was desirous to know what effect that would have -when extended to literary composition. I made the experiment as soon -as I got home, on the Lord's Prayer, and wrote the following in bed, -before morning:" - -About the "Temple of Health" there are a few other interesting -particulars extant. The woman who officiated in the "Sanctum -Sanctorum" was the fair and frail Emma--in due course to be the wife -of Sir William Hamilton, and the goddess of Nelson. The charges for -consulting the oracle, or a mere admission in the Temple, were thus -arranged. "The nobility, gentry, and others, who apply through the -day, viz., from ten to six, must pay a guinea the first consultation, -and half a guinea every time after. No person whomsoever, even -personages of the first rank, need expect to be attended at their own -houses, unless confined to bed by sickness, or to their room through -extreme weakness; and from those whom he attends at their houses two -guineas each visit is expected. Dr Graham, for reasons of the highest -importance to the public as well as to himself, has a chymical -laboratory and a great medicinal cabinet in his own house; and in the -above fixed fees either at home or abroad, every expense attending his -advice, medicines, applications, and operations, and _influences_, are -included--a few tedious, complex, and expensive operations in the -Great Apollo apartment only excepted." - -But the humour of the man culminated when he bethought himself of -displaying the crutches and spectacles of restored patients, as -trophies of his victories over disease. "Over the doors of the -principal rooms, under the vaulted compartments of the ceiling, and -in each side of the centre arches of the hall, are placed -walking-sticks, ear-trumpets, visual glasses, crutches, &c., left, and -here placed as most honourable trophies, by deaf, weak, paralytic, and -emaciated persons, cripples, &c., who, being cured, have happily no -longer need of such assistances." - -Amongst the furniture of the "Temple of Health" was a celestial bed, -provided with costly draperies, and standing on glass legs. Married -couples, who slept on this couch, were sure of being blessed with a -beautiful progeny. For its use L100 per night was demanded, and -numerous persons of rank were foolish enough to comply with the terms. -Besides his celestial bed and magnetic tomfooleries, Graham vended an -"Elixir of Life," and subsequently recommended and superintended -earth-bathing. Any one who took the elixir might live as long as he -wished. For a constant supply of so valuable a medicine, L1000, paid -in advance, was the demand. More than one nobleman paid that sum. The -Duchess of Devonshire patronized Graham, as she did every other quack -who came in her way; and her folly was countenanced by Lady Spencer, -Lady Clermont, the Comtesse de Polignac, and the Comtesse de Chalon. - -Of all Dr. Graham's numerous writings one of the most ridiculous is "A -clear, full, and faithful Portraiture, or Description, and ardent -Recommendation of a certain most beautiful and spotless Virgin -Princess, of Imperial descent! To a certain youthful Heir-Apparent, in -the possession of whom alone his Royal Highness can be truly, -permanently, and supremely happy. Most humbly dedicated to his Royal -Highness, George, Prince of Wales, and earnestly recommended to the -attention of the Members of both Houses of Parliament." When George -the Third was attacked for the first time with mental aberration, -Graham hastened down to Windsor, and obtaining an interview there with -the Prince Regent, with thrilling earnestness of manner assured his -Royal Highness that he would suffer in the same way as his father -unless he married a particular princess that he (Dr. Graham) was ready -to introduce to him. On the Prince inquiring the name of the lady, -Graham answered, "Evangelical Wisdom." Possibly the royal patient -would have profited, had he obeyed the zealot's exhortation. The work, -of which we have just given the title, is a frantic rhapsody on the -beauties and excellence of the Virgin Princess Wisdom, arranged in -chapters and verses, and begins thus:-- - -"CHAP. 1." - -"Hear! all ye people of the earth, and understand; give ear -attentively, O ye kings and princes, and be admonished; yea, learn -attentively, ye who are the rulers and the judges of the people." - -"2. Let the inhabitants of the earth come before me with all the -innocency and docility of little children; and the kings and -governors, with all purity and simplicity of heart. - -"3. For the Holy Spirit of Wisdom! or celestial discipline! flees from -duplicity and deceit, and from haughtiness and hardness of heart; it -removes far from the thoughts that are without understanding; and will -not abide when unrighteousness cometh in." - -The man who was fool enough to write such stuff as this had, however, -some common sense. He detected the real cause of the maladies of half -those who consulted him, and he did his utmost to remove it. Like the -French quack Villars, he preached up "abstinence" and "cleanliness." -Of the printed "general instructions" to his patients, No. 2 runs -thus:--"It will be unreasonable for Dr Graham's patients to expect a -complete and lasting cure, or even great alleviation of their peculiar -maladies, unless they keep their body and limbs most perfectly clean -with frequent washings, breathe fresh open air day and night, be -simple in the quality and moderate in the quantity of their food and -drink, and totally give up using deadly poisons and weakeners of both -body and soul, and the canker-worms of estates, called foreign tea and -coffee, red port wine, spirituous liquors, tobacco and snuff, gaming -and late hours, and all sinful and unnatural and excessive indulgence -of the animal appetites, and of the diabolical and degrading mental -passions. On practising the above rules, and a widely-open window day -and night, and on washing with cold water, and going to bed every -night by eight or nine, and rising by four or five, depends the very -perfection of bodily and mental health, strength, and happiness." - -Many to whom this advice was given thought that ill-health, which made -them unable to enjoy anything was no worse an evil than health brought -on terms that left them nothing to enjoy. During his career Graham -moved his "Temple of Health" from the Adelphi to Pall-Mall. But he did -not prosper in the long-run. His religious extravagances for a while -brought him adherents, but when they took the form of attacking the -Established Church, they brought on him an army of adversaries. He -came also into humiliating collision with the Edinburgh authorities. - -Perhaps the curative means employed by Graham were as justifiable and -beneficial as the remedies of the celebrated doctors of Whitworth in -Yorkshire, the brothers Taylor. These gentlemen were farriers, by -profession, but condescended to prescribe for their own race as well, -always, however, regarding the vocation of brute-doctor as superior in -dignity to that of a physician. Their system of practice was a -vigorous one. They made no gradual and insidious advances on disease, -but opened against it a bombardment of shot and shell from all -directions. They bled their patients by the gallon, and drugged them -by the stone. Their druggists, Ewbank and Wallis of York, used to -supply them with a ton of Glauber's salts at a time. In their -dispensary scales and weights were regarded as the bugbears of ignoble -minds. Every Sunday morning they bled _gratis_ any one who liked to -demand a prick from their lancets. Often a hundred poor people were -seated on the surgery benches at the same time, waiting for -venesection. When each of the party had found a seat the two brothers -passed rapidly along the lines of bared arms, the one doctor deftly -applying the ligature above the elbow, and the other immediately -opening the vein, the crimson stream from which was directed to a -wooden trough that ran round the apartment in which the operations -were performed. The same magnificence of proportion characterized -their administration of kitchen physic. If they ordered a patient -broth, they directed his nurse to buy a large leg of mutton, and boil -it in a copper of water down to a strong decoction, of which a quart -should be administered at stated intervals. - -When the little Abbe de Voisenon was ordered by his physician to drink -a quart of ptisan per hour he was horrified. On his next visit the -doctor asked, - -"What effect has the ptisan produced?" - -"Not any," answered the little Abbe. - -"Have you taken it all?" - -"I could not take more than half of it." - -The physician was annoyed, even angry that his directions had not been -carried out, and frankly said so. - -"_Ah, my friend_," pleaded the Abbe, "_how could you desire me to -swallow a quart an hour?--I hold but a pint!_" - -This reminds us of a story we have heard told of an irascible -physician who died, after attaining a venerable age, at the close of -the last century. The story is one of those which, told once, are told -many times, and affixed to new personages, according to the whim or -ignorance of the narrator. - -"Your husband is very ill--very ill--high fever," observed the Doctor -to the poor labourer's wife; "and he's old, worn, emaciated: his hand -is as dry as a Suffolk cheese. You must keep giving him water--as much -as he'll drink; and, as I am coming back to-night from Woodbridge, -I'll see him again. There--don't come snivelling about me!--my heart -is a deuced deal too hard to stand that sort of thing. But, since you -want something to cry about, just listen--your husband _isn't going to -die yet_! There, now you're disappointed. Well, you brought it on -yourself. Mind lots of water--as much as he'll drink" - -The doctor was ashamed of the feminine tenderness of his heart, and -tried to hide it under an affectation of cynicism, and a manner at -times verging on brutality. Heaven bless all his descendants, -scattered over the whole world, but all of them brave and virtuous! A -volume might be written on his good qualities; his only bad one being -extreme irascibility. His furies were many, and sprung from divers -visitations; but nothing was so sure to lash him into a tempest as to -be pestered with idle questions. - -"Water, sir?" whined Molly Meagrim. "To be sure, your honour--water he -shall have, poor dear soul! But, your honour, how much water ought I -to give him?" - -"Zounds, woman! haven't I told you to give him as much as he'll -take?--and you ask me how much! _How much?_--give him a couple of -pails of water, if he'll take 'em. Now, do you hear me, you old fool? -Give him a couple of pails." - -"The Lord bless your honour--yes," whined Molly. - -To get beyond the reach of her miserable voice the Doctor ran to his -horse, and rode off to Woodbridge. At night as he returned, he stopped -at the cottage to inquire after the sick man. - -"He's bin took away, yer honour," said the woman, as the physician -entered. "The water didn't fare to do him noan good--noan in the -lessest, sir. Only then we couldn't get down the right quantity, -though we did our best. We got down better nor a pail and a half, -when he slipped out o' our hands. Ah, yer honour! if we could but ha' -got him to swaller the rest, he might still be alive! But we did our -best, Doctor!" - -Clumsy empirics, however, as the Taylors were, they attended people of -the first importance. The elder Taylor was called to London to attend -Thurlow, Bishop of Durham, the brother of Lord Chancellor Thurlow. The -representative men of the Faculty received him at the bishop's -residence, but he would not commence the consultation till the arrival -of John Hunter. "I won't say a word till Jack Hunter comes," roared -the Whitworth doctor; "he's the only man of you who knows anything." -When Hunter arrived, Taylor proceeded to his examination of the -bishop's state, and, in the course of it, used some ointment which he -took from a box. - -"What's it made of?" Hunter asked. - -"That's not a fair question," said Taylor, turning to the Lord -Chancellor, who happened to be present. "No, no, Jack. I'll send you -as much as you please, but I won't tell you what it's made of." - - - - -CHAPTER XXI. - -ST. JOHN LONG. - - -In the entire history of charlatanism, however, it would be difficult -to point to a career more extraordinary than the brilliant though -brief one of St. John Long, in our own cultivated London, at a time -scarcely more than a generation distant from the present. Though a -pretender, and consummate quack, he was distinguished from the vulgar -herd of cheats by the possession of enviable personal endowments, a -good address, and a considerable quantity of intellect. The son of an -Irish basket-maker, he was born in or near Doneraile, and in his -boyhood assisted in his father's humble business. His artistic -talents, which he cultivated for some time without the aid of a -drawing-master, enabled him, while still quite a lad, to discontinue -working as a rush-weaver. For a little while he stayed at Dublin, and -had some intercourse with Daniel Richardson the painter; after which -he moved to Limerick county, and started on his own account as a -portrait-painter, and an instructor in the use of the brush. That his -education was not superior to what might be expected in a clever -youth of such lowly extraction, the following advertisement, copied -from a Limerick paper of February 10, 1821, attests:-- - -"Mr John Saint John Long, Historical and Portrait Painter, the only -pupil of Daniel Richardson, Esq., late of Dublin, proposes, during his -stay in Limerick, to take portraits from Ittalian Head to whole -length; and parson desirous of getting theirs done, in historical, -hunting, shooting, fishing, or any other character; or their family, -grouped in one or two paintings from life-size to miniature, so as to -make an historical subject, choseing one from history." - -"The costume of the period from whence it would be taken will be -particularly attended to, and the character of each proserved." - -"He would take views in the country, terms per agreement. Specimens to -be seen at his Residence, No. 116, Georges Street, opposite the -Club-house, and at Mr James Dodds, Paper-staining Warehouse, Georges -Street. - -"Mr Long is advised by his several friends to give instructions in the -Art of Painting in Oils, Opeak, Chalk, and Water-colours, &c., to a -limited number of Pupils of Respectability two days in each week at -stated hours." - -"Gentlemen are not to attend at the same hour the Ladies attend at. He -will supply them in water-colours, &c." - -How the young artist acquired the name of St. John is a mystery. When -he blazed into notoriety, his admirers asserted that it came to him in -company with noble blood that ran in his veins; but more unkind -observers declared that it was assumed, as being likely to tickle the -ears of his credulous adherents. His success as a provincial -art-professor was considerable. The gentry of Limerick liked his manly -bearing and lively conversation, and invited him to their houses to -take likenesses of their wives, flirt with their daughters, and -accompany their sons on hunting and shooting excursions. Emboldened by -good luck in his own country, and possibly finding the patronage of -the impoverished aristocracy of an Irish province did not yield him a -sufficient income, he determined to try his fortune in England. Acting -on this resolve, he hastened to London, and with ingratiating manners -and that persuasive tongue which nine Irishmen out of ten possess, he -managed to get introductions to a few respectable drawing-rooms. He -even obtained some employment from Sir Thomas Lawrence, as -colour-grinder and useful assistant in the studio; and was elected a -member of the Royal Society of Literature, and also of the Royal -Asiatic Society. But like many an Irish adventurer, before and after -him, he found it hard work to live on his impudence, pleasant manners, -and slender professional acquirements. He was glad to colour -anatomical drawings for the professors and pupils of one of the minor -surgical schools of London; and in doing so picked up a few pounds and -a very slight knowledge of the structure of the human frame. The -information so obtained stimulated him to further researches, and, ere -a few more months of starvation had passed over, he deemed himself -qualified to cure all the bodily ailments to which the children of -Adam are subject. - -He invented a lotion or liniment endowed with the remarkable faculty -of distinguishing between sound and unsound tissues. To a healthy part -it was as innocuous as water; but when applied to a surface under -which any seeds of disease were lurking, it became a violent irritant, -creating a sore over the seat of mischief, and stimulating nature to -throw off the morbid virus. He also instructed his patients to inhale -the vapour which rose from a certain mixture compounded by him in -large quantities, and placed in the interior of a large mahogany case, -which very much resembled an upright piano. In the sides of this piece -of furniture were apertures, into which pipe-stalks were screwed for -the benefit of afflicted mortals, who, sitting on easy lounges, smoked -away like a party of Turkish elders. - -With these two agents St. John Long engaged to combat every form of -disease--gout, palsy, obstructions of the liver, cutaneous affections; -but the malady which he professed to have the most complete command -over was consumption. His success in surrounding himself with patients -was equal to his audacity. He took a large house in Harley Street, and -fitted it up for the reception of people anxious to consult him; and -for some seasons every morning and afternoon (from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m.) -the public way was blocked up with carriages pressing to his door. The -old and the young alike flocked to him; but nine of his patients out -of every ten were ladies. For awhile the foolish of every rank in -London seemed to have but one form in which to display their folly. -Needy matrons from obscure suburban villages came with their guineas -to consult the new oracle; and ladies of the highest rank, fashion, -and wealth, hastened to place themselves and their daughters at the -mercy of a pretender's ignorance. - -Unparalleled were the scenes which the reception-rooms of that -notorious house in Harley Street witnessed. In one room were two -enormous inhalers, with flexible tubes running outwards in all -directions, and surrounded by dozens of excited women--ladies of -advanced years, and young girls giddy with the excitement of their -first London season--puffing from their lips the medicated vapour, or -waiting till a mouth-piece should be at liberty for their pink lips. -In another room the great magician received his patients. Some he -ordered to persevere in inhalation, others he divested of their -raiment, and rubbed his miraculous liniment into their backs, between -their shoulders or over their bosoms. Strange to say, these lavations -and frictions--which invariably took place in the presence of third -persons, nurses or invalids--had very different results. The fluid, -which, as far as the eye could discern, was taken out of the same -vessel, and was the same for all, would instantaneously produce on one -lady a burning excoriation, which had in due course to be dressed with -cabbage-leaves; but on another would be so powerless that she could -wash in it, or drink it copiously, like ordinary pump-water, with -impunity. "Yes," said the wizard, "that was his system, and such were -its effects. If a girl had tubercles in her lungs, the lotion applied -to the outward surface of her chest would produce a sore, and extract -the virus from the organs of respiration. If a gentleman had a gouty -foot, and washed it in this new water of Jordan, at the cost of a -little temporary irritation the vicious particles would leave the -affected part. But on any sound person who bathed in it the fluid -would have no power whatever." - -The news of the wonderful remedy flew to every part of the kingdom; -and from every quarter sick persons, wearied of a vain search after an -alleviation of their sufferings, flocked to London with hope renewed -once more. St. John Long had so many applicants for attention that he -was literally unable to give heed to all of them; and he availed -himself of this excess of business to select for treatment those cases -only where there seemed every chance of a satisfactory result. In this -he was perfectly candid, for time after time he declared that he would -take no one under his care who seemed to have already gone beyond -hope. On one occasion he was called into the country to see a -gentleman who was in the last stage of consumption; and after a brief -examination of the poor fellow's condition, he said frankly-- - -"Sir, you are so ill that I cannot take you under my charge at -present. You want stamina. Take hearty meals of beefsteaks and strong -beer; and if you are better in ten days, I'll do my best for you and -cure you." - -It was a safe offer to make, for the sick man lived little more than -forty-eight hours longer. - -But, notwithstanding the calls of his enormous practice, St. John Long -found time to enjoy himself. He went a great deal into fashionable -society, and was petted by the great and high-born, not only because -he was a notoriety, but because of his easy manners, imposing -carriage, musical though hesitating voice, and agreeable disposition. -He was tall and slight, but strongly built; and his countenance, thin -and firmly set, although frank in expression, caused beholders to -think highly of his intellectual refinement, as well as of his -decision and energy. Possibly his personal advantages had no slight -influence with his feminine applauders. But he possessed other -qualities yet more fitted to secure their esteem--an Irish impetuosity -of temperament and a sincere sympathy with the unfortunate. He was an -excellent horseman, hunting regularly, and riding superb horses. On -one occasion, as he was cantering round the Park, he saw a man strike -a woman, and without an instant's consideration he pulled up, leaped -to the ground, seized the fellow bodily, and with one enormous effort -flung him slap over the Park rails. - -But horse-exercise was the only masculine pastime he was very fond of. -He was very temperate in his habits; and although Irish gentlemen -_used_ to get tipsy, he never did. Painting, music, and the society of -a few really superior women, were the principal sources of enjoyment -to which this brilliant charlatan had recourse in his leisure hours. -Many were the ladies of rank and girls of gentle houses who would have -gladly linked their fortunes to him and his ten thousand a year.[20] -But though numerous matrimonial overtures were made to him, he -persevered in his bachelor style of life; and although he was received -with peculiar intimacy into the privacy of female society, scandal -never even charged him with a want of honour or delicacy towards -women, apart from his quackery. Indeed, he broke off his professional -connection with one notorious lady of rank, rather than gratify her -eccentric wish to have her likeness taken by him in that remarkable -costume--or no costume at all--in which she was wont to receive her -visitors. - - [20] A writer in the _Gentleman's Magazine_ for 1843 observes:--"In - England, after Sir Astley, whose superiority of mind or dexterity of - hand stood uncontested, another practitioner in that category of the - Faculty of which it has been said, 'Periculis nostris, et experimenta - per mortes agunt medici,' the once famous St John Long was, I believe, - the most largely requited. I had some previous knowledge of him, and - in 1830 he showed me his pass-book with his bankers, Sir Claude Scott - and Co., displaying a series of credits from July, 1829, to July, - 1830, or a single year's operations, to the extent of L13,400, But the - delusion soon vanished. One act of liberality on his part at that - period, however, I think it fair to record. To a gentleman who had - rendered him some literary aid, which his defective education made - indispensable, he presented double, not only what he was assured would - be an ample remuneration, but what exceeded fourfold the sum his - friend would have been satisfied with, or had expected." - -In the exercise of his art he treated women unscrupulously. Amidst the -crowd of ladies who thronged his reception-rooms he moved, smiling, -courteous, and watchful, listening to their mutual confidences about -their maladies, the constitutions of their relations, and their family -interests. Every stray sentence the wily man caught up and retained in -his memory, for future use. To induce those to become his patients who -had nothing the matter with them, and consequently would go to swell -the list of his successful cases, he used the most atrocious -artifices. - -"Ah, Lady Emily, I saw your dear sister," he would say to a patient, -"yesterday--driving in the Park--lovely creature she is! Ah, poor -thing!" - -"Poor thing, Mr. Long!--why, Catherine is the picture of health!" - -"Ah," the adroit fellow would answer, sadly, "you think so--so does -she--and so does every one besides myself who sees her; -but--but--unless prompt remedial measures are taken that dear girl, -ere two short years have flown, will be in her grave." This mournful -prophecy would be speedily conveyed to Catherine's ears; and, under -the influence of that nervous dread of death which almost invariably -torments the youthful and healthy, she would implore the great -physician to save her from her doom. It was not difficult to quiet her -anxious heart. Attendance at 41, Harley Street, for six weeks, during -which time a sore was created on her breast by the corrosive liniment, -and cured by the application of cabbage-leaves and nature's kindly -processes, enabled her to go out once more into the world, sounding -her saviour's praises, and convinced that she might all her life long -expose herself to the most trying changes of atmosphere, without -incurring any risk of chest-affection. - -But Mr. Long had not calculated that, although nine hundred and -ninety-nine constitutions out of every thousand would not be -materially injured by his treatment, he would at rare intervals meet -with a patient of delicate organization, on whom the application of -his blistering fluid would be followed by the most serious -consequences. In the summer of the year 1830, two young ladies, of a -good Irish family, named Cashin, came to London, and were inveigled -into the wizard's net. They were sisters; and the younger of them, -being in delicate health, called on Mr. Long, accompanied by her -elder sister. The ordinary course of inhalation and rubbing was -prescribed for the invalid; and ere long, frightened by the quack's -prediction that, unless she was subjected to immediate treatment, she -would fall into a rapid consumption, the other young lady submitted to -have the corrosive lotion rubbed over her back and shoulders. The -operation was performed on the 3rd of August. Forthwith a violent -inflammation was established: the wound, instead of healing, became -daily and hourly of a darker and more unhealthy aspect; unable to bear -the cabbage-leaves on the raw and suppurating surface, the sufferer -induced her nurse to apply a comforting poultice to the part, but no -relief was obtained from it. St. John Long was sent for, and the 14th -(just eleven days after the exhibition of the corrosive liniment), he -found his victim in a condition of extreme exhaustion and pain, and -suffering from continued sickness. Taking these symptoms as a mere -matter of course, he ordered her a tumbler of mulled wine, and took -his departure. On the following day (Sunday, 15th) he called again, -and offered to dress the wound. But the poor girl, suddenly waking up -to the peril of her position, would not permit him to touch her, and, -raising herself with an effort in her bed, exclaimed-- - -"Indeed, Mr. Long, you shall not touch my back again--you very well -know that when I became your patient I was in perfect health, but now -you are killing me!" Without losing his self-command at this pathetic -appeal, he looked into her earnest eyes, and said, impressively-- - -"Whatever inconvenience you are now suffering, it will be of short -duration, for in two or three days you will be in better health than -you ever were in your life." - -But his words did not restore her confidence. The next day (the 16th) -Mr., now Sir Benjamin, Brodie was sent for, and found on the wretched -girl's back an inflamed surface about the size of a plate, having in -the centre a spot as large as the palm of his hand, which was in a -state of mortification. The time for rescue was past. Sir Benjamin -prescribed a saline draught to allay the sickness; and within -twenty-four hours Catherine Cashin, who a fortnight before had been in -perfect health and high spirits--an unusually lovely girl, in her 25th -year--lay upon her bed in the quiet of death. - -An uproar immediately ensued; and there was an almost universal cry -from the intelligent people of the country, that the empiric should be -punished. A coroner's inquest was held; and, in spite of the efforts -made by the charlatan's fashionable adherents, a verdict was obtained -from the jury of man-slaughter against St. John Long. Every attempt -was made by a set of influential persons of high rank to prevent the -law from taking its ordinary course. The issue of the warrant for the -apprehension of the offender was most mysteriously and scandalously -delayed: and had it not been for the energy of Mr. Wakley, who, in a -long and useful career of public service, has earned for himself much -undeserved obloquy, the affair would, even after the verdict of the -coroner's jury, have been hushed up. Eventually, however, on Saturday, -October 30, St. John Long was placed in the dock of old Bailey, -charged with the manslaughter of Miss Cashin. Instead of deserting him -in his hour of need, his admirers--male and female--presented -themselves at the Central Criminal Court, to encourage him by their -sympathy, and to give evidence in his favour. The carriages of -distinguished members of the nobility brought fair freights of the -first fashion of May-fair down to the gloomy court-house that adjoins -Newgate; and belles of the first fashion sat all through the day in -the stifling atmosphere of a crowded court, looking languishingly at -their hero in the dock, who, from behind his barrier of rue and -fennel, distributed to them smiles of grateful recognition. The Judge -(Mr. Justice Park) manifested throughout the trial a strong -partisanship with the prisoner; and the Marchioness of Ormond, who was -accommodated with a seat on the bench by his Lordship's side, -conversed with him in whispers during the proceedings. The summing up -was strongly in favour of the accused; but, in spite of the partial -judge, and an array of fashionable witnesses in favour of the -prisoner, the jury returned a verdict of guilty. - -As it was late on Saturday when the verdict was given, the judge -deferred passing sentence till the following Monday. At the opening of -the court on that day a yet greater crush of the _beau monde_ was -present; and the judge, instead of awarding a term of imprisonment to -the guilty man, condemned him merely to pay a fine of L250, or to be -imprisoned till such fine was paid. Mr. St. John Long immediately took -a roll of notes from his pocket, paid the mulct, and leaving the court -with his triumphant friends, accepted a seat in Lord Sligo's -curricle, and drove to the west end of the town. - -The scandalous sentence was a fit conclusion to the absurd scenes -which took place in the court of the Old Bailey, and at the coroner's -inquest. At one or the other of these inquiries the witnesses advanced -thousands of outrageous statements, of which the following may be -taken as a fair specimen:-- - -One young lady gave evidence that she had been cured of consumption by -Mr. Long's liniment; she knew she had been so cured, because she had a -very bad cough, and, after the rubbing in all the ointment, the cough -went away. An old gentleman testified that he had for years suffered -from attacks of the gout, at intervals of from one to three months; he -was convinced Mr. Long had cured him, because he had been free from -gout for five weeks. Another gentleman had been tortured with -headache; Mr. Long applied his lotion to it--the humour which caused -his headache came away in a clear limpid discharge. A third gentleman -affirmed that Mr. Long's liniment had reduced a dislocation of his -child's hip-joint. The Marchioness of Ormond, on oath, stated that she -_knew_ that Miss Cashin's back was rubbed with the same fluid as she -and her daughters had used to wash their hands with; but she admitted -that she neither _saw_ the back rubbed, nor _saw_ the fluid with which -it was rubbed taken from the bottle. Sir Francis Burdett also bore -testimony to the harmlessness of Mr. Long's system of practice. Mr. -Wakley, in the _Lancet_, asserted that Sir Francis Burdett had called -on Long to ask him if his liniment would give the Marquis of Anglesea -a leg, in the place of the one he lost at Waterloo, if it were -applied to the stump. Long gave an encouraging answer; and the lotion -was applied, with the result of producing not an entire foot and -leg--but a great toe! - -Miss Cashin's death was quickly followed by another fatal case. A Mrs. -Lloyd died from the effects of the corrosive lotion; and again a -coroner's jury found St. John Long guilty of manslaughter, and again -he was tried at the Old Bailey--but this second trial terminated in -his acquital. - -It seems scarcely creditable, and yet it is true, that these exposures -did not have the effect of lessening his popularity. The respectable -organs of the Press--the _Times_, the _Chronicle_, the _Herald_, the -_John Bull_, the _Lancet_, the _Examiner_, the _Spectator_, the -_Standard_, the _Globe_, _Blackwood_, and _Fraser_, combined in doing -their best to render him contemptible in the eyes of his supporters. -But all their efforts were in vain. His old dupes remained staunch -adherents to him, and every day brought fresh converts to their body. -With unabashed front he went everywhere, proclaiming himself a martyr -in the cause of humanity, and comparing his evil treatment to the -persecutions that Galileo, Harvey, Jenner, and Hunter underwent at the -hands of the prejudiced and ignorant. Instead of uncomplainingly -taking the lashes of satirical writers, he first endeavored to bully -them into silence, and swaggering into newspaper and magazine offices -asked astonished editors how they _dared_ to call him a _quack_. -Finding, however, that this line of procedure would not improve his -position, he wrote his defence, and published it in an octavo volume, -together with numerous testimonials of his worth from grateful -patients, and also a letter of cordial support from Dr. Ramadge, M.D., -Oxon., a fellow of the College of Physicians. In a ridiculous and -ungrammatical epistle, defending this pernicious quack, who had been -convicted of manslaughter, Dr. Ramadge displayed not less anxiety to -blacken the reputation of his own profession, than he did to clear the -fame of the charlatan whom he designated "_a guiltless and a cruelly -persecuted individual!!!_" The book itself is one of the most -interesting to be found in quack literature. On the title-page is a -motto from Pope--"No man deserves a monument who could not be wrapped -in a winding-sheet of papers written against him"; and amongst pages -of jargon about humoral pathology, it contains confident predictions -that if his victims had _continued_ in his system, they would have -lived. The author accuses the most eminent surgeons and physicians of -his time of gross ignorance, and of having conspired together to crush -him, because they were jealous of his success and envious of his -income. He even suggests that the same saline draught, prescribed by -Sir Benjamin Brodie, killed Miss Cashin. Amongst those whose -testimonials appear in the body of the work are the _then_ Lord -Ingestre (his enthusiastic supporter), Dr. Macartney, the Marchioness -of Ormond, Lady Harriet Kavanagh, the Countess of Buckinghamshire, and -the Marquis of Sligo. The Marchioness of Ormond testifies how Mr. Long -had miraculously cured her and her daughter of "headaches," and her -youngest children of "smart attacks of feverish colds, one with -inflammatory sore throat, the others with more serious bad symptoms." -The Countess of Buckinghamshire says she is cured of "headache and -lassitude"; and Lord Ingestre avows his belief that Mr. Long's system -is "preventive of disease," because he himself is much less liable to -catch cold than he was before trying it. - -Numerous pamphlets also were written in defence of John St. John Long, -Esq., M.R.S.L., and M.R.A.S. An anonymous author (calling himself a -graduate of Trinity College, Cambridge, and Member of the Middle -Temple), in a tract dated 1831, does not hesitate to compare the -object of his eulogy with the author of Christianity. "But who can -wonder at Mr Long's persecutions? The brightest character that ever -stept was persecuted, even unto death! His cures were all perverted, -but they were not the less complete; they were miraculous, but they -were not the less certain!" - -To the last St. John Long retained his practice; but death removed him -from the scene of his triumphs while he was still a young man. The -very malady, his control over which he had so loudly proclaimed, -brought his career--in which knavery or self-delusion, doubtless both, -played a part--to an end. He died of consumption, at the age of -thirty-seven years. Even in the grave his patients honoured him, for -they erected an elegant and costly monument to his memory, and adorned -it with the following inscription. - - "It is the fate of most men - To have many enemies, and few friends. - This monumental pile - Is not intended to mark the career, - But to shew - How much its inhabitant was respected - By those who knew his worth, - And the benefits - Derived from his remedial discovery. - He is now at rest, - And far beyond the praises or censures - Of this world. - Stranger, as you respect the receptacle of the dead - (As one of the many who will rest here), - Read the name of - John Saint John Long - without comment." - -Notwithstanding the exquisite drollery of this inscription, in -speaking of a plebeian quack-doctor (who, by the exercise of -empiricism, raised himself to the possession of L5000 per annum, and -the intimate friendship of numbers of the aristocracy) as the victim -of "many enemies and few friends," it cannot be said to be open to -much censure. Indeed, St. John Long's worshippers were for the most -part of that social grade in which bad taste is rare, though weakness -of understanding possibly may not be uncommon. - -The sepulchre itself is a graceful structure, and occupies a prominent -position in the Kensal Green cemetery, by the side of the principal -carriage-way, leading from the entrance-gate to the chapel of the -burial-ground. Immediately opposite to it, on the other side of the -gravel drive, stands, not inappropriately, the flaunting sepulchre of -Andrew Ducrow, the horse-rider, "whose death," the inscription informs -us, "deprived the arts and sciences of an eminent professor and -liberal patron." When any cockney bard shall feel himself inspired to -write an elegy on the west-end grave-yard, he will not omit to compare -John St. John Long's tomb with that of "the liberal patron of the arts -and sciences," and also with the cumbrous heap of masonry which -covers the ashes of Dr. Morrison, hygeist, which learned word, being -interpreted, means "the inventor of Morrison's pills." - -To give a finishing touch to the memoir of this celebrated charlatan, -it may be added that after his death his property became the subject -of tedious litigation; and amongst the claimants upon it was a woman -advanced in years, and of an address and style that proved her to -belong to a very humble state of life. This woman turned out to be St. -John Long's wife. He had married her when quite a lad, had found it -impossible to live with her, and consequently had induced her to -consent to an amicable separation. This discovery was a source of -great surprise, and also of enlightenment to the numerous high-born -and richly-endowed ladies who had made overtures of marriage to the -idolized quack, and, much to their surprise, had had their advances -adroitly but firmly declined. - -There are yet to be found in English society, ladies--not silly, -frivolous women, but some of those on whom the world of intellect has -put the stamp of its approval--who cherish such tender reminiscences -of St. John Long, that they cannot mention his name without their eyes -becoming bright with tears. Of course this proves nothing, save the -credulity and fond infatuation of the fair ones who love. The hands of -women decked Nero's tomb with flowers. - -[Illustration: _THE ANATOMIST_] - - - - -CHAPTER XXII. - -THE QUARRELS OF PHYSICIANS. - - -For many a day authors have had the reputation of being more sensitive -and quarrelsome than any other set of men. Truth to tell, they are not -always so amiable and brilliant as their works. There is in them the -national churlishness inducing them to nurse a contempt for every one -they don't personally know, and a spirit of antagonism towards nearly -every one they do. But to say this is only to say that they are made -of British oak. Unfortunately, however, they carry on their -contentions in a manner that gives them a wide publicity and a -troublesome duration of fame. Soldiers, when they quarrelled in the -last century, shot one another like gentlemen, at two paces' distance, -and with the crack of their pistols the whole noise of the matter -ceased. Authors, from time immemorial, have in their angry moments -rushed into print, and lashed their adversaries with satire, rendered -permanent by aid of the printer's devil,--thus letting posterity know -all the secrets of their folly, whilst the merciful grave put an end -to all memorial of the extravagances of their friends. There was -less love between Radcliffe and Hannes, Freind and Blackmore, Gibbons -and Garth, than between Pope and Dennis, Swift and Grub Street. But we -know all about the squabbles of the writers from their poems; whereas -only a vague tradition, in the form of questionable anecdotes, has -come down to us of the animosities of the doctors--a tradition which -would long ere this have died out, had not Garth--author as well as -physician--written the "Dispensary," and a host of dirty little -apothecaries contracted a habit of scribbling lampoons about their -professional superiors. - -Luckily for the members of it, the Faculty of Medicine is singularly -barren of biographies. The career of a physician is so essentially one -of confidence, that even were he to keep a memorial of its interesting -occurrences, his son wouldn't dare to sell it to a publisher as the -"Revelations of a Departed Physician." Long ere it would be decent or -safe to print such a diary, the public would have ceased to take an -interest in the writer. Pettigrew's "Life of Lettsom," and Macilwain's -"Memoirs of Abernethy," are almost the only two passable biographies -of eminent medical practitioners in the English language; and the last -of these does not presume to enter fully on the social relations of -the great surgeon. The lives of Hunter and Jenner are meagre and -unworthily executed, and of Bransby Cooper's Life of his uncle little -can be said that is not in the language of emphatic condemnation. - -From this absence of biographical literature the medical profession at -least derives this advantage--the world at large knows comparatively -little of their petty feuds and internal differences than it would -otherwise. - -The few memorials, however, that we have of the quarrels of physicians -are of a kind that makes us wish we had more. Of the great battle of -the apothecaries with the physicians we have already spoken in the -notice of Sir Samuel Garth. To those who are ignorant of human nature -it may appear incredible that a body, so lovingly united against -common foes, should have warred amongst themselves. Yet such was the -case. A London druggist once put up at the chief inn of a provincial -capital, whither he had come in the course of his annual summer ride. -The good man thought it would hurt neither his health nor his -interests to give "a little supper" to the apothecaries of the town -with whom he was in the habit of doing business. Under the influence -of this feeling he sallied out from "The White Horse," and spent a few -hours in calling on his friends--asking for orders and delivering -invitations. On returning to his inn, he ordered a supper for -twelve--as eleven medical gentlemen had engaged to sup with him. When -the hour appointed for the repast was at hand, a knock at the door was -followed by the appearance of guest A, with a smile of intense -benevolence and enjoyment. Another rap--and guest B entered. A looked -blank--every trace of happiness suddenly vanishing from his face. B -stared at A, as much as to say, "You be ----!" A shuffled with his -feet, rose, made an apology to his host for leaving the room to attend -to a little matter, and disappeared. Another rap--and C made his bow -of greeting. "I'll try to be back in five minutes, but if I'm not, -don't wait for me," cried B, hurriedly seizing his hat and rushing -from the apartment. C, a cold-blooded, phlegmatic man, sat down -unconcernedly, and was a picture of sleeping contentment till the -entry of D, when his hair stood on end, and he fled into the inn-yard, -as if he were pursued by a hyena. E knocked and said, "How d' you do?" -D sprung from his chair, and shouted, "Good-bye!" And so it went on -till, on guest No. 11 joining the party--that had received so many new -comers, and yet never for an instant numbered more than three--No. 10 -jumped through the window, and ran down the street to the bosom of his -family. The hospitable druggist and No. 11 found, on a table provided -for twelve, quite as much supper as they required. - -Next morning the druggist called on A for an explanation of his -conduct. "Sir," was the answer, "I could not stop in the same room -with such a scoundrel as B." So it went straight down the line. B had -vowed never to exchange words with C. C would be shot rather than sit -at the same table with such a scoundrel as D. - -"You gentlemen," observed the druggist, with a smile to each, "seem to -be almost as well disposed amongst yourselves as your brethren in -London; only they, when they meet, don't run from each other, but draw -up, square their elbows, and fight like men." - -The duel between Mead and Woodward, as it is more particularly -mentioned in another part of these volumes, we need here only to -allude to. The contest between Cheyne and Wynter was of a less bloody -character. Cheyne was a Bath physician, of great practice and yet -greater popularity--dying in 1743, at the age of seventy-two. At one -time of his life he was so prodigiously fat that he weighed 32 stone, -he and a gentleman named Tantley being the two stoutest men in -Somersetshire. One day, after dinner, the former asked the latter what -he was thinking about. - -"I was thinking," answered Tantley, "how it will be possible to get -either you or me into the grave after we die." - -Cheyne was nettled, and retorted, "Six or eight stout fellows will do -the business for me, but you must be taken at twice." - -Cheyne was a sensible man, and had more than one rough passage of arms -with Beau Nash, when the beau was dictator of the pump-room. Nash -called the doctor in and asked him to prescribe for him. The next day, -when the physician called and inquired if his prescription had been -followed, the beau languidly replied:-- - -"No, i' faith, doctor, I haven't followed it. 'Pon honour, if I had I -should have broken my neck, for I threw it out of my bed-room window." - -But Cheyne had wit enough to reward the inventor of the white hat for -this piece of insolence. One day he and some of his learned friends -were enjoying themselves over the bottle, laughing with a heartiness -unseemly in philosophers, when, seeing the beau draw near, the doctor -said:-- - -"Hush, we must be grave now, here's a fool coming our way." - -Cheyne became ashamed of his obesity, and earnestly set about -overcoming it. He brought himself down by degrees to a moderate diet, -and took daily a large amount of exercise. The result was that he -reduced himself to under eleven stone, and, instead of injuring his -constitution, found himself in the enjoyment of better health. -Impressed with the value of the discovery he had made, he wrote a book -urging all people afflicted with chronic maladies to imitate him and -try the effects of temperance. Doctors, notwithstanding their precepts -in favour of moderation, neither are, nor ever have been, averse to -the pleasures of the table. Many of them warmly resented Cheyne's -endeavours to bring good living into disrepute, possibly deeming that -their interests were attacked not less than their habits. Dryden -wrote, - - "The first physicians by debauch were made. - Excess began, and sloth sustained the trade; - By chase our long-liv'd fathers earned their food, - Toil strung their nerves and purified their blood; - But we, their sons, a pamper'd race of men, - Are dwindled down to threescore years and ten. - Better to hunt in fields for health unbought, - Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught; - The wise for cure on exercise depend, - God never made his work for man to mend." - -Dr. Wynter arose to dispose of Cheyne in a summary fashion. Wynter had -two good reasons for hating Cheyne: Wynter was an Englishman and loved -wine, Cheyne was a Scotchman and loved milk. - - DR. WYNTER TO DR. CHEYNE. - - "Tell me from whom, fat-headed Scot, - Thou didst thy system learn; - From Hippocrate thou hadst it not, - Nor Celsus, nor Pitcairn. - - "Suppose we own that milk is good, - And say the same of grass; - The one for babes is only food, - The other for an ass. - - "Doctor, one new prescription try - (A friend's advice forgive), - Eat grass, reduce thyself, and die, - Thy patients then may live." - -Cheyne responded, with more wit and more good manners, in the -following fashion:-- - - "DR. CHEYNE TO DR. WYNTER. - - "My system, doctor, is my own, - No tutor I pretend; - My blunders hurt myself alone, - But yours your dearest friend. - - "Were you to milk and straw confin'd, - Thrice happy might you be; - Perhaps you might regain your mind, - And from your wit be free." - - "I can't your kind prescription try, - But heartily forgive; - 'Tis natural you should wish me die, - That you yourself may live." - -The concluding two lines of Cheyne's answer were doubtless little to -the taste of his unsuccessful opponent. - -In their contentions physicians have not often had recourse to the -duel. With them an appeal to arms has rarely been resorted to, but -when it has been deliberately made the combatants have usually fought -with decision. The few duels fought between women have for the most -part been characterized by American ferocity. Madame Dunoyer mentions -a case of a duel with swords between two ladies of rank, who would -have killed each other had they not been separated. In a feminine duel -on the Boulevard St. Antoine, mentioned by De la Colombeire, both the -principals received several wounds on the face and bosom--a most -important fact illustrative of the pride the fair sex take in those -parts.[21] Sometimes ladies have distinguished themselves by fighting -duels with men. Mademoiselle Dureux fought her lover Antinotti in an -open street. The actress Maupin challenged Dumeny, but he declined to -give her satisfaction; so the lady stripped him of watch and -snuff-box, and bore them away as trophies of victory. The same lady, -on another occasion, having insulted in a ball-room a distinguished -personage of her own sex, was requested by several gentlemen to quit -the entertainment. She obeyed, but forthwith challenged and fought -each of the meddlesome cavaliers--and killed them all! The slaughter -accomplished, she returned to the ball-room, and danced in the -presence of her rival. The Marquise de Nesle and the Countess -Polignac, under the Regency, fought with pistols for the possession of -the Duc de Richelieu. In or about the year 1827, a lady of -Chateauroux, whose husband had received a slap in the face, called out -the offender, and severely wounded him in a duel fought with swords. -The most dramatic affair of honour, however, in the annals of female -duelling occurred in the year 1828, when a young French girl -challenged a _garde du corps_ who had seduced her. At the meeting the -seconds took the precaution of loading without ball, the fair -principal of course being kept in ignorance of the arrangement. She -fired first and saw her seducer remain unhurt. Without flinching, or -changing colour, she stood watching her adversary, whilst he took a -deliberate aim (in order to test her courage), and then, after a -painful pause, fired into the air. - - [21] _Vide_ Millingen's "History of Duelling." - -Physicians have been coupled with priests, as beings holding a -position between the two sexes. In the Lancashire factories they -allow women and clergymen the benefit of an entree--because they don't -understand business. Doctors and ladies could hardly be coupled -together by the same consideration; but they might be put in one class -out of respect to that gentleness of demeanour and suavity of voice -which distinguish the members of the medical profession, in common -with well-bred women. - -Gentle though they be, physicians have, however, sometimes indulged in -wordy wrangling, and then had recourse to more sanguinary arguments. - -The duel between Dr. Williams and Dr. Bennet was one of the bloodiest -in the eighteenth century. They first battered each other with -pamphlets, and then exchanged blows. Matters having advanced so far, -Dr. Bennet proposed that the fight should be continued in a -gentlemanly style--with powder instead of fists. The challenge was -declined; whereupon Dr. Bennet called on Dr. Williams, to taunt him -with a charge of cowardice. No sooner had he rapped at the door, than -it was opened by Williams himself, holding in his hand a pistol loaded -with swan-shot, which he, without a moment's parley, discharged into -his adversary's breast. Severely wounded, Bennet retired across the -street to a friend's house, followed by Williams, who fired another -pistol at him. Such was the demoniacal fury of Williams, that, not -contented with this outrage, he drew his sword, and ran Bennet through -the body. But this last blow was repaid. Bennet managed to draw his -rapier, and give his ferocious adversary a home-thrust--his sword -entering the breast, coming out through the shoulder-blade, and -snapping short. Williams crawled back in the direction of his house, -but before he could reach it fell down dead. Bennet lived only four -hours. A pleasant scene for the virtuous capital of a civilized and -Christian people! - -The example of Dr. Bennet and Dr. Williams was not lost upon the -physicians of our American cousins. In the August of 1830, a meeting -took place, near Philadelphia, between Dr. Smith and Dr. Jeffries. -They exchanged shots at eight paces, without inflicting any injury, -when their friends interposed, and tried to arrange the difficulty; -but Dr. Jeffries swore that he would not leave the ground till some -one had been killed. The principals were therefore put up again. At -the second exchange of shots Dr. Smith's right arm was broken, when he -gallantly declared that, as he was wounded, it would be gratifying to -his feelings, to be killed. Third exchange of shots, and Dr. Smith, -firing with his left arm, hits his man in the thigh, causing immense -loss of blood. Five minutes were occupied in bandaging the wound; when -Dr. Jeffries, properly primed with brandy, requested that no further -obstacles might be raised between him and satisfaction. For a fourth -time the mad men were put up--at the distance of six feet. The result -was fatal to both. Dr. Smith dropped dead with a ball in his heart. -Dr. Jeffries was shot through the breast, and survived only a few -hours. The conduct of Dr. Jeffries during those last few hours was -admirable, and most delightfully in keeping with the rest of the -proceeding. On seeing his antagonist prostrate, the doctor asked if he -was dead. On being assured that his enemy lived no longer, he -observed, "Then I die contented." He then stated that he had been a -school-mate with Dr. Smith, and that, during the fifteen years -throughout which they had been on terms of great intimacy and -friendship, he had valued him highly as a man of science and a -gentleman. - -One of the latest duels in which an English physician was concerned as -a principal was that fought on the 10th of May, 1833, near Exeter, -between Sir John Jeffcott and Dr. Hennis. Dr. Hennis received a wound, -of which he died. The affair was brought into the Criminal Court, and -was for a short time a _cause celebre_ on the western circuit; but the -memory of it has now almost entirely disappeared. - -As we have already stated, duels have been rare in the medical -profession. Like the ladies, physicians have, in their periods of -anger, been content with speaking ill of each other. That they have -not lost their power of courteous criticism and judicious abuse, any -one may learn, who, for a few hours, breathes the atmosphere of their -cliques. It is good to hear an allopathic physician perform his duty -to society by frankly stating his opinion of the character and conduct -of an eminent homoeopathic practitioner. Perhaps it is better still -to listen to an apostle of homoeopathy, when he takes up his parable -and curses the hosts of allopathy. "Sir, I tell you in confidence," -observed a distinguished man of science, tapping his auditor on the -shoulder, and mysteriously whispering in his ear, "I know _things_ -about _that man_ that would make him end his days in penal servitude." -The next day the auditor was closeted in the consulting-room of _that -man_, when that man said--quite in confidence, pointing as he spoke to -a strong box, and jingling a bunch of keys in his pocket--"I have -_papers_ in that box, which, properly used, would tie a certain friend -of ours up by the neck." - -Lettsom, loose-living man though he was for a member of the Society of -Friends, had enough of the Quaker element in him to be very fond of -controversy. He dearly loved to expose quackery, and in some cases did -good service in that way. In the _Medical Journal_ he attacked, A. D. -1806, no less a man than Brodum, the proprietor of the Nervous -Cordial, avowing that that precious compound had killed thousands; and -also stating that Brodum had added to the crime of wholesale murder -the atrocities of having been born a Jew, of having been a shoe-black -in Copenhagen, and of having at some period of his chequered career -carried on an ignoble trade in oranges. Of course Brodum saw his -advantage. He immediately brought an action against Phillips, the -proprietor of the _Medical Journal_, laying his damages at L5000. The -lawyers anticipated a harvest from the case, and were proceeding not -only against Phillips, but various newsvendors also, when a newspaper -editor stept in between Phillips and Brodum, and contrived to settle -the dispute. Brodum's terms were not modest ones. He consented to -withdraw his actions, if the name of the author was given up, and if -the author would whitewash him in the next number of the Journal, -under the same signature. Lettsom consented, paid the two attorneys' -bills, amounting to L390, and wrote the required puff of Brodum and -his Nervous Cordial. - -One of the singular characters of Dublin, a generation ago, was John -Brenan, M.D., a physician who edited the _Milesian Magazine_, a -scurrilous publication of the satirist class, that flung dirt on every -one dignified enough for the mob to take pleasure in seeing him -bespattered with filth. The man certainly was a great blackguard, but -was not destitute of wit. How he carried on the war with the members -of his own profession the following song will show:-- - - "THE DUBLIN DOCTORS. - - "My gentle muse, do not refuse - To sing the Dublin Doctors, O; - For they're the boys - Who make the joys - Of grave-diggers and proctors, O. - - We'll take 'em in procession, O, - We'll take 'em in succession, O; - But how shall we - Say who is he - Shall lead the grand procession, O? - - Least wit and greatest malice, O, - Least wit and greatest malice, O, - Shall mark the man - Who leads the van, - As they march to the gallows, O. - - First come then, Doctor Big Paw, O, - Come first then, Doctor Big Paw, O; - Mrs Kilfoyle - Says you would spoil - Its shape, did you her wig paw, O. - - Come next, dull Dr Labat, O, - Come next, dull Dr Labat, O; - Why is it so, - You kill the doe, - Whene'er you catch the rabbit, O? - - Come, Harvey, drunken dandy, O, - Come, Harvey, drunken dandy, O; - Thee I could paint - A walking saint, - If you lov'd God like brandy, O. - - Come next, Doctor Drumsnuffle, O, - Come next, Doctor Drumsnuffle, O; - Well stuffed with lead, - Your leather head - Is thick as hide of Buffaloe. - - Come next, Colossus Jackson, O, - Come next, Colossus Jackson, O; - As jack-ass mute, - A burthen brute, - Just fit to trot with packs on, O. - - Come next, sweet Paddy Rooney, O, - Come next, sweet Paddy Rooney, O; - Tho' if you stay - Till judgment's day, - You'll come a month too soon-y, O. - - Come next, sweet Breeny Creepmouse, O, - Come next, sweet Breeny Creepmouse, O; - Thee heaven gave - Just sense to shave - A corpse, or an asleep mouse, O. - - For I say, creep-mouse Breeny, O, - For I say, creep-mouse Breeny, O; - Thee I can't sing - The fairy's king, - But I'll sing you their Queen-y O; - - For I say, Dr Breeny, O, - For I say, Dr Breeny, O; - If I for once - Called you a dunce, - I'd shew a judgment weeny, O. - - Come, Richards dull and brazen, O, - Come, Richards dull and brazen, O; - A prosperous drone, - You stand alone, - For wondering sense to gaze on, O. - - Then come, you greasy blockhead, O, - Then come, you greasy blockhead, O; - Balked by your face, - We quickly trace, - Your genius to your pocket, O. - - Come, Crampton, man of capers, O, - Come, Crampton, man of capers, O; - . . . . . - - And come, long Doctor Renney, O, - And come, long Doctor Renney, O; - If sick I'd fee - As soon as thee, - Old Arabella Denny, O. - - Come, Tandragee Ferguson, O, - Come, Tandragee Ferguson, O; - Fool, don't recoil, - But as your foil - Bring Ireland or Puke Hewson, O. - - Come, ugly Dr Alman, O, - Come, ugly Dr Alman, O; - But bring a mask, - Or do not ask, - When come, that we you call man, O. - . . . . . - - Come, Boyton, king of dunces, O, - Come, Boyton, king of dunces, O; - Who call you knave - No lies receive, - Nay, that your name each one says, O. - - Come, Colles, do come, Aby, O, - Come, Colles, do come, Aby, O; - Tho' all you tell, - You'll make them well, - You always 'hould say may be, O. - - Come, beastly Dr Toomy, O, - Come, beastly Dr Toomy, O; - If impudence - Was common sense - As you no sage ere knew me, O. - - Come, smirking, smiling Beattie, O, - Come, smirking, smiling Beattie, O; - In thee I spy - An apple eye - Of cabbage and potaty, O. - - Come, louse-bit Nasom Adams, O, - Come, louse-bit Nasom Adams, O; - In jail or dock - Your face would shock - It thee as base and bad damus, O. - - Come next, Frank Smyth on cockney, O, - Come next, Frank Smyth on cockney, O; - Sweet London's pride, - I see you ride, - Despising all who flock nigh, O. - - And bring your partner Bruen, O, - And bring your partner Bruen, O; - And with him ride - All by your side, - Like two fond turtles cooing, O. - - Come next, Spilsberry Deegan, O, - Come next, Spilsberry Deegan, O; - With grace and air - Come kill the fair, - Your like we'll never, see 'gain, O. - - Come, Harry Grattan Douglass, O, - Come, Harry Grattan Douglass, O; - A doctor's name - I think you claim, - With right than my dog pug less, O. - - Come, Oronoko Harkan, O, - Come, Oronoko Harkan, O; - I think your face - Is just the place - God fix'd the blockhead's mark on, O. - - Come, Christ-denying Taylor, O, - Come, Christ-denying Taylor, O; - Hell made your phiz - On man's a quiz, - But made it for a jailor, O. - - Come, Packwood, come, Carmichael, O, - Come, Packwood, come, Carmichael, O; - Your cancer-paste, - The fools who taste, - Whom it kills not does nigh kill, O. - - Come next, Adonis Harty, O, - Come next, Adonis Harty, O; - Your face and frame - Shew equal claim, - Tam Veneri quam Marti, O. - - Here ends my song on Doctors, O, - Here ends my song on Doctors, O; - Who, when all damn'd - In hell are cramm'd, - Will beggar all the Proctors, O." - -Brenan (to do him justice) was as ready to fell a professional -antagonist and brother with a bludgeon, hunting-whip, or pistol, as he -was to scarify him with doggerel. He was as bold a fellow as Dr. -Walsh, the Hibernian AEsculapius, who did his best to lay Dr. Andrew -Marshall down amongst the daisies and the dead men. Andrew Marshall, -when a divinity-student at Edinburgh, was insulted (whilst officiating -for Stewart, the humanity professor) by a youngster named Macqueen. -The insolence of the lad was punished by the professor (_pro tem._) -giving him a caning. Smarting with the indignity offered him, Macqueen -ran home to his father, imploring vengeance; whereupon the irate sire -promptly sallied forth, and entering Marshall's lodgings, exclaimed:-- - -"Are you the scoundrel that dared to attack my son?" - -"Draw and defend yourself!" screamed the divinity student, springing -from his chair, and presenting a sword-point at the intruder's breast. -Old Macqueen, who had expected to have to deal only with a timid -half-starved usher ready to crouch whiningly under personal -castigation, was so astonished at this reception that he turned and -fled precipitately. This little affair happened in 1775. As a -physician Andrew Marshall was not less valiant than he had been when -a student of theology. On Walsh challenging him, he went out and stood -up at ten paces like a gentleman. Walsh, a little short fellow, -invisible when looked at side-ways, put himself in the regular -attitude, shoulder to the front. Marshall disdained such mean -prudence, and faced his would-be murdered with his cheeks and chest -inflated to the utmost. Shots were exchanged, Dr. Andrew Marshall -receiving a ball in his right arm, and Dr. Walsh, losing a lock of -hair--snipped off by his opponent's bullet, and scattered by the -amorous breeze. Being thus the _gainer_ in the affair, Dr. Andrew -Marshall made it up with his adversary, and they lived on friendly -terms ever afterwards. Why don't some of our living _medici_ bury the -hatchet with a like effective ceremony? - -An affair that ended not less agreeably was that in which Dr. -Brocklesby was concerned as principal, where the would-be belligerents -left the ground without exchanging shots, because their seconds could -not agree on the right number of paces at which to stick up their man. -When Akenside was fool enough to challenge Ballow, a wicked story went -about that the fight didn't come off because one had determined never -to fight in the morning, and the other that he would never fight in -the afternoon. But the fact was--Ballow was a paltry mean fellow, and -shirked the peril into which his ill-manners had brought him. The -lively and pleasant author of "Physic and Physicians," countenancing -this unfair story, reminds us of the off-hand style of John Wilkes in -such little affairs. When asked by Lord Talbot "How many times they -were to fire?" the brilliant demagogue responded-- - -"Just as often as your Lordship pleases--I have brought _a bag of -bullets and a flask of gunpowder_ with me." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII. - -THE LOVES OF PHYSICIANS. - - -Honour has flowed to physicians by the regular channels of -professional duty in but scant allowance. Their children have been -frequently ennobled by marriage or for political services. Sir Hans -Sloane's daughter Elizabeth, and manor of Chelsea, passed into the -Cadogan family, the lady marrying the second Baron Cadogan. Like Sir -Hans, Dr. Huck Sanders left behind him two daughters, co-heiresses of -his wealth, of whom one (Jane) was ennobled through wedlock, the tenth -Earl of Westmoreland raising her to be his second wife. Lord -Combermere married the heiress of Dr. Gibbings, of Cork. In the same -way Dr. Marwood's property came to the present Sir Marwood Elton by -the marriage of his grandfather with Frances, the daughter and heiress -of the Devonshire doctor. On the other hand, as instances of the -offspring of physicians exalted to the ranks of the aristocracy for -their political services, the Lords Sidmouth, Denman, and Kingsdown -may be mentioned. Henry Addington, created Viscount Sidmouth, of the -county of Devon, was the eldest son of Anthony Addington, M.D., of -Reading--the physician who objected to fighting any brother physician -who had not graduated at either Oxford or Cambridge. Dr. Anthony was -the enthusiastic toady of the great Earl of Chatham. Devoted to his -own interests and the Pitt family, he rose from the humble position of -keeper of a provincial lunatic asylum to eminence in the medical -profession. Coming up to town in 1754, under the patronage of Pitt, he -succeeded in gaining the confidence of the Court, and was, with Dr. -Richard Warren, Dr. Francis Willis, Dr. Thomas Gisborne, Sir Lucas -Pepys, and Dr. Henry Revell Reynolds, examined, in 1782, by the -committee appointed to examine "the physicians who attended his -illness, touching the state of his Majesty's health." He took a very -hopeful view of the king's case; and on being asked the foundation of -his hopes, alluded to his experience in the treatment of the insane at -Reading. The doctor had himself a passion for political intrigue, -which descended to his son. The career of this son, who raised himself -to the Speaker's chair in the House of Commons, to the dignity of -First Minister of the Crown, and to the peerage of the realm, is -matter of history. - -Lord Denman was closely connected with the medical profession by -family ties: his father being Dr. Denman, of Mount Street, Grosvenor -Square, the author of a well-known work on a department of his -profession; his uncle being Dr. Joseph Denman of Bakewell; and his two -sisters having married two eminent physicians, Margaret being the wife -of Sir Richard Croft, Bart., and Sophia the wife of Dr. Baillie. Lord -Kingsdown's medical ancestor was his grandfather, Edward Pemberton, -M.D., of Warrington. - -But though the list of the ennobled descendants of medical -practitioners might be extended to the limits of a volume, the writer -of these pages is not aware of any case in which a doctor has, by the -exercise of his calling, raised himself to the peerage. As yet, the -dignity of a baronetcy is the highest honour conferred on the most -illustrious of the medical faculty, Sir Hans Sloane being the first of -the order to whom that rank was presented. More than once a physician -has won admission into the _noblesse_, but the battle resulting in -such success has been fought in the arena of politics or the bustle of -the law courts. Sylvester Douglas deserted the counter, at which he -commenced life an apothecary, and after a prolonged servitude to, or -warfare with, the cliques of the House of Commons, had his exertions -rewarded and his ambition gratified with an Irish peerage and a -patrician wife. On his elevation he was of course taunted with the -humility of his origin, and by none was the reproach flung at him with -greater bitterness than it was by a brother _parvenu_ and brother -poet. - -"What's his title to be?" asked Sheridan, as he was playing at cards; -"what's Sylvester Douglas to be called?" - -"Lord Glenbervie," was the answer. - -"Good Lord!" replied Sheridan; and then he proceeded to fire off an -_impromptu_, which he had that morning industriously prepared in bed, -and which he subsequently introduced into one of his best satiric -pieces. - - "Glenbervie, Glenbervie, - What's good for the scurvy? - For ne'er be your old trade forgot. - In your arms rather quarter - A pestle and mortar, - And your crest be a spruce gallipot." - -The brilliant partizan and orator displayed more wit, if not better -taste, in his ridicule of Addington, who, in allusion to the rise of -his father from a humble position in the medical profession, was -ordinarily spoken of by political opponents as "The Doctor." On one -occasion, when the Scotch members who usually supported Addington -voted in a body with the opposition, Sheridan, with a laugh of -triumph, fired off a happy mis-quotation from Macbeth,--"Doctor, the -Thanes fly from thee." - -Henry Bickersteth, Lord Langdale, was the luckiest of physicians and -lawyers. He used the medical profession as a stepping-stone, and the -legal profession as a ladder, and had the fortune to win two of the -brightest prizes of life--wealth and a peerage--without the -humiliation and toil of serving a political party in the House of -Commons. The second son of a provincial surgeon, he was apprenticed to -his father, and educated for the paternal calling. On being qualified -to kill, he became medical attendant to the late Earl of Oxford, -during that nobleman's travels on the Continent. Returning to his -native town, Kirby Lonsdale, he for awhile assisted his father in the -management of his practice; but resolved on a different career from -that of a country doctor, he became a member of Caius College, -Cambridge, and devoted himself to mathematical study with such success -that, in 1808, when he was twenty-eight years old, he became Senior -Wrangler and First Smith's prizeman. As late as the previous year he -was consulted medically by his father. In 1811 he was called to the -bar by the Inner Temple, and from that time till his elevation to the -Mastership of the Rolls he was both the most hard-working and -hard-worked of the lawyers in the Equity Courts, to which he confined -his practice. In 1827 he became a bencher of his Inn; and, in 1835, -although he was a staunch and zealous liberal, and a strenuous -advocate of Jeremy Bentham's opinions, he was offered a seat on the -judicial bench by Sir Robert Peel. This offer he declined, though he -fully appreciated the compliment paid him by the Tory chieftain. He -had not, however, to wait long for his promotion. In the following -year (1836) he was, by his own friends, made Master of the Rolls, and -created a peer of the realm, with the additional honour of being a -Privy-Councillor. His Lordship died at Tunbridge Wells, in 1851, in -his sixty-eighth year. It would be difficult to point to a more -enviable career in legal annals than that of this medical lawyer, who -won the most desirable honours of his profession without ever sitting -in the House of Commons, or acting as a legal adviser of the -Crown--and when he had not been called quite twenty-five years. To -give another touch to this picture of a successful life, it may be -added, that Lord Langdale, after rising to eminence, married -Elizabeth, daughter of the Earl of Oxford, to whom he had formerly -been travelling medical attendant. - -Love has not unfrequently smiled on doctors, and elevated them to -positions at which they would never have arrived by their professional -labours. Sir Lucas Pepys, who married the Countess De Rothes, and Sir -Henry Halford, whose wife was a daughter of the eleventh Lord St. John -of Blestoe, are conspicuous amongst the more modern instances of -medical practitioners advancing their social condition by aristocratic -alliances. Not less fortunate was the farcical Sir John Hill, who -gained for a bride the Honourable Miss Jones, a daughter of Lord -Ranelagh--a nobleman whose eccentric opinion, that the welfare of the -country required a continual intermixture of the upper and lower -classes of society, was a frequent object of ridicule with the -caricaturists and lampoon-writers of his time. But the greatest prize -ever made by an AEsculapius in the marriage-market was that acquired by -Sir Hugh Smithson, who won the hand of Percy's proud heiress, and was -created Duke of Northumberland. The son of a Yorkshire baronet's -younger son, Hugh Smithson was educated for an apothecary--a vocation -about the same time followed for several years by Sir Thomas Geery -Cullum, before he succeeded to the family estate and dignity. Hugh -Smithson's place of business was Hatton Garden, but the length of time -that he there presided over a pestle and mortar is uncertain. In 1736 -he became a Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries, but he withdrew from -that learned body, on the books of which his signature may be found, -in the year 1740. A few months after this secession, Sir Hugh led to -the altar the only child and heiress of Algernon Seymour, Duke of -Somerset. There still lives a tradition that the lady made the offer -to Sir Hugh immediately after his rejection by a famous belle of -private rank and modest wealth. Another version of the story is that, -when she heard of his disappointment, she observed publicly, "that the -disdainful beauty was a fool, and that no other woman in England would -be guilty of like folly." On hearing this, the baronet, a singularly -handsome man, took courage to sue for that to which men of far higher -rank would not have presumed to aspire. The success that followed his -daring, of course, brought upon him the arrows of envy. He had won so -much, however, that he could, without ill-humour, bear being laughed -at. On being created Duke of Northumberland in 1766, he could afford -to smile at a proposition that his coronet should be surrounded with -senna, instead of strawberry-leaves; for, however much obscure -jealousy might affect to contemn him, he was no fit object for -disdain--but a gentleman of good intellect and a lordly presence, and -(though he had mixed drugs behind a counter) descended from an old and -honourable family. The reproach of being a Smithson, and no Percy, had -more force when applied to the second duke in the Anti-Jacobin, than -it had when hurled vindictively at the ex-doctor himself by the -mediocrities of the _beau monde_, whom he had beaten on their own -ground by superior attractions and accomplishments. - - "Nay," quoth the Duke, "in thy black scroll - Deductions I espye-- - For those who, poor, and mean, and low, - With children burthen'd lie. - - "And though full sixty thousand pounds - My vassals pay to me, - From Cornwall to Northumberland, - Through many a fair countree; - - "Yet England's church, its king, its laws, - Its cause I value not, - Compared with this, my constant text, - _A penny saved is got_. - - "No drop of princely Percy's blood - Through these cold veins doth run; - With Hotspur's castles, blazon, name, - I still am _poor_ Smithson." - -Considering the opportunities that medical men have for pressing a -suit in love, and the many temptations to gentle emotion that they -experience in the aspect of feminine suffering, and the confiding -gratitude of their fair patients, it is perhaps to be wondered at that -only one medical duke is to be found in the annals of the peerage. -When Swift's Stella was on her death-bed, her physician said, -encouragingly--"Madam, you are certainly near the bottom of the hill, -but we shall endeavour to get you up once more," the _naive_ reply of -the poor lady was, "Doctor, I am afraid I shall be out _of breath_ -before I get to the top again." Not less touching was the fear -expressed by Steele's merry daughter to her doctor, that she should -"die _before the holidays_." Both Stella and Sir Richard's child had -left their personal charms behind them when they so addressed their -physicians; but imagine, my brother, what the effect of such words -would be on your susceptible heart, if they came from the lips of a -beautiful girl. Would you not (think you) try to win other such -speeches from her?--and if you tried, dear sir, surely _you_ would -succeed! - -Prudence would order a physician, endowed with a heart, to treat it in -the same way as Dr. Glynn thought a cucumber ought to be dressed--to -slice it very thin, pepper it plentifully, pour upon it plenty of the -best vinegar, and then--throw it away. A doctor has quite enough work -on his hands to keep the affections of his patients in check, without -having to mount guard over his own emotions. Thackeray says that girls -make love in the nursery, and practise the arts of coquetry on the -page-boy who brings the coals upstairs--a hard saying for simple young -gentlemen triumphing in the possession of a _first_ love. The writer -of these pages could point to a fair dame, who enjoys rank amongst the -highest and wealth equal to the station assigned her by the heralds, -who not only aimed tender glances, and sighed amorously to a young -waxen-faced, blue-eyed apothecary, but even went so far as to write -him a letter proposing an elopement, and other merry arrangements, in -which a carriage, everlastingly careering over the country at the -heels of four horses, bore a conspicuous part. The silly maiden had, -like Dinah, "a fortune in silvyer and gold," amounting to L50,000, and -her blue-eyed Adonis was twice her age; but fortunately he was a -gentleman of honour, and, without divulging the mad proposition of the -young lady, he induced her father to take her away for twelve months' -change of air and scene. Many years since the heroine of this little -episode, after she had become the wife of a very great man, and the -mother of children who bid fair to become ornaments to their -illustrious race, expressed her gratitude cordially to this Joseph of -the doctors, for his magnanimity in not profiting by the absurd -fancies of a child, and the delicacy with which he had taken prompt -measures for her happiness; and, more recently, she manifested her -good will to the man who had offered her what is generally regarded as -the greatest insult a woman can experience, by procuring a commission -in the army for his eldest son. - -The embarrassments Sir John Eliot suffered under from the emotional -overtures of his fair patients are well known. St. John Long himself -had not more admirers amongst the _elite_ of high-born English ladies. -The king had a strong personal dislike to Sir John,--a dislike -possibly heightened by a feeling that it was sheer impudence in a -doctor to capture without an effort the hearts of half the prettiest -women amongst his subjects--and then shrug his shoulders with chagrin -at his success. Lord George Germain had hard work to wring a baronetcy -out of his Majesty for this victim of misplaced affection. - -"Well," said the king, at last grudgingly promising to make Eliot a -baronet--"my Lord, since you desire it, let it be; but remember he -shall not be my physician." - -"No, sir," answered Lord George--"he shall be your Majesty's baronet, -and my physician." - -Amongst other plans Sir John resorted to, to scare away his patients -and patronesses, he had a death's-head painted on his carriage-panels; -but the result of this eccentric measure on his practice and on his -sufferings was the reverse of what he desired. One lady--the daughter -of a noble member of a Cabinet--ignorant that he was otherwise -occupied, made him an offer, and on learning to her astonishment that -he was a married man, vowed that she would not rest till she had -assassinated his wife. - -Poor Radcliffe's loves were of a less flattering sort, though they -resembled Sir John Eliot's in respect of being instances of -reciprocity all on one side. But the amorous follies of Radcliffe, -ludicrous though they became under the touches of Steele's pen, are -dignified and manly when compared with the senile freaks of Dr. Mead, -whose highest delight was to comb the hair of the lady on whom, for -the time being, his affections were set. - -Dr. Cadogan, of Charles the Second's time, was, like Sir John Eliot, a -favourite with the ladies. His wont was to spend his days in shooting -and his evenings in flirtation. To the former of these tastes the -following lines refer:-- - - "Doctor, all game you either ought to shun, - Or sport no longer with the unsteady gun; - But like physicians of undoubted skill, - Gladly attempt what never fails to kill, - Not lead's uncertain dross, but physic's deadly pill." - -Whether he was a good shot we cannot say; but he was sufficiently -adroit as a squire of dames, for he secured as his wife a wealthy -lady, over whose property he had unfettered control. Against the -money, however, there were two important points figuring under the -head of "set-off"--the bride was old and querulous. Of course such a -woman was unfitted to live happily with an eminent physician, on whom -bevies of court ladies smiled whenever he went west of Charing Cross. -After spending a few months in alternate fits of jealous hate and -jealous fondness, the poor creature conceived the terrible fancy that -her husband was bent on destroying her with poison, and so ridding his -life of her execrable temper. One day, when surrounded by her friends, -and in the presence of her lord and master, she fell on her back in a -state of hysterical spasms, exclaiming:-- - -"Ah! he has killed me at last. I am poisoned!" - -"Poisoned!" cried the lady-friends, turning up the whites of their -eyes. "Oh! gracious goodness!--you have done it, doctor!" - -"What do you accuse me of?" asked the doctor, with surprise. - -"I accuse you--of--killing me--ee," responded the wife, doing her best -to imitate a death-struggle. - -"Ladies," answered the doctor, with admirable _nonchalance_, bowing to -Mrs. Cadogan's bosom associates, "it is perfectly false. You are quite -welcome to open her at once, and then you'll discover the calumny." - -John Hunter administered a scarcely less startling reproof to his -wife, who, though devoted in her attachment to him, and in every -respect a lady worthy of esteem, caused her husband at times no little -vexation by her fondness for society. She was in the habit of giving -enormous routs, at which authors and artists, of all shades of merit -and demerit, used to assemble to render homage to her literary powers, -which were very far from common-place. A lasting popularity has -attested the excellence of her song:-- - - "My mother bids me bind my hair - With bands of rosy hue; - Tie up my sleeves with ribbons rare, - And lace my boddice blue. - - "'For why,' she cries, 'sit still and weep, - While others dance and play?' - Alas! I scarce can go or creep, - While Lubin is away. - - "'Tis sad to think the days are gone, - When those we love are near; - I sit upon this mossy stone, - And sigh when none can hear. - - "And while I spin my flaxen thread, - And sing my simple lay, - The village seems asleep or dead, - Now Lubin is away." - -John Hunter had no sympathy with his wife's poetical aspirations, -still less with the society which those aspirations led her to -cultivate. Grudging the time which the labours of practice prevented -him from devoting to the pursuits of his museum and laboratory he -could not restrain his too irritable temper when Mrs. Hunter's -frivolous amusements deprived him of the quiet requisite for study. -Even the fee of a patient who called him from his dissecting -instruments could not reconcile him to the interruption. "I must go," -he would say reluctantly to his friend Lynn, when the living summoned -him from his investigations among the dead, "and earn this d----d -guinea, or I shall be sure to want it to-morrow." Imagine the wrath of -such a man, finding, on his return from a long day's work, his house -full of musical professors, connoisseurs, and fashionable idlers--in -fact, all the confusion and hubbub and heat of a grand party, which -his lady had forgotten to inform him was that evening to come off! -Walking straight into the middle of the principal reception-room, he -faced round and surveyed his unwelcome guests, who were not a little -surprised to see him--dusty, toilworn, and grim--so unlike what "the -man of the house" ought to be on such an occasion. - -"I knew nothing," was his brief address to the astounded crowd--"I -knew nothing of this kick-up, and I ought to have been informed of it -beforehand; but, as I have now returned home to study, I hope the -present company will retire." - -Mrs Hunter's drawing-rooms were speedily empty. - -One of the drollest love stories in medical ana is that which relates -to Dr. Thomas Dawson, a century since alike admired by the inhabitants -of Hackney as a pulpit orator and a physician. Dawson was originally a -Suffolk worthy, unconnected, however, with the eccentric John Dawson, -who, in the reign of Charles the Second, was an apothecary in the -pleasant old town of Framlingham, in that county. His father, a -dissenting minister, had seven sons, and educated six of them for the -Nonconformist pulpit. Of these six, certainly three joined the -Established Church, and became rectors--two of the said three, -Benjamin and Abraham, being controversial writers of considerable -merit. Thomas Dawson adhered to the tenets of his father, and, -combining the vocations of divine and physic-man, preached on Sundays, -and doctored during the rest of the week. He was Mead and Mead's -father in one: though the conditions of human existence, which render -it impossible for one person to be in two places at the same time, -prevented him from leaving chapel to visit his patients, and the next -minute urging the congregation to offer up a prayer for the welfare of -the unfortunate sufferers. Amongst the doctor's circle of acquaintance -Miss Corbett of Hackney was at the same time the richest, the most -devout, and the most afflicted in bodily health. Ministering to her -body and soul, Dr. Dawson had frequent occasions for visiting her. One -day he found her alone, sitting with the large family Bible before -her, meditating on perhaps the grandest chapter in all the Old -Testament. The doctor read the words to which the forefinger of her -right hand pointed--the words of Nathan to David: "_Thou art the -man_." The doctor took the hint; and on the 29th of May, 1758, he -found a wife--and the pious lady won a husband. The only offspring of -this strange match was one son, a Mr. Dawson, who still resides at a -very advanced age of life in the charming village of Botesdale, in -Suffolk. When the writer of these pages was a happy little boy, making -his first acquaintance with Latin and Greek, at the Botesdale Grammar -School, then presided over by the pious, manly, and gentle ----, he -was an especial pet with Mr. Dawson. The worthy gentleman's little -house was in the centre of a large garden, densely stocked with apple -and other fruit trees; and in it he led a very retired life, visited -by only a very few friends, and tended by two or three servants--of -whom one, an ancient serving man, acted as a valet, gardener, and -groom to an antique horse which constituted Mr. Dawson's entire stud. -The small urchin before-mentioned had free access at all times to the -venerable gentleman, and used to bring him the gossip of the town and -school, in exchange for apples and other substantial gifts. Thin and -attenuated, diminutive, so as to be little more than a dwarf, with -vagrant eager eye, hooked as to his nose, and with a long beard, -snowy-white, streaming over his waistcoat, the octogenarian used to -receive his fair-haired child-visitor. May he be happy--as may all old -gentlemen be, who are kind to little schoolboys, and give them apples -and "tips!" - -The day that Abernethy was married he went down to the lecture-room to -deliver his customary instruction to his pupils. His selection of a -wife was as judicious as his marriage was happy; and the funny -stories for long current about the mode in which he made his offer are -known to be those most delusive of fabrications, fearless and extreme -exaggerations of a little particle of the truth. The brutality of -procedure attributed to the great surgeon by current rumour was -altogether foreign to his nature. The Abernethy biscuit was not more -audaciously pinned upon his reputation, than was the absurd falsehood -that when he made his offer to his future wife he had only seen her -once, and then wrote saying he should like to marry her, but as he was -too busy to "make love," she must entertain his proposal without -further preliminaries, and let him know her decision by the end of the -week. - -Of Sir John Eliot the fortunate, mention has already been made in this -chapter. Let us now speak of John Eliot, the luckless hero of a -biography published in 1787, under the title of "A Narrative of the -Life and Death of John Eliot, M.D., containing an account of the Rise, -Progress, and Catastrophe of his unhappy passion for Miss Mary -Boydell." A native of Somersetshire, John Elliot wrote a tragedy when -only twelve years of age, and after serving an apprenticeship to a -London apothecary, fell in love with one Miss Mary Boydell, a niece of -a city alderman. The course of this gentleman's love ran smoothly till -he chanced, by evil fortune, to read an announcement in a newspaper, -that a Miss Boydell had, on the previous day, been led to the altar by -some gentleman--not called Dr. John Elliot, certainly not himself. -Never doubting that _the_ Miss Boydell of the newspaper was _his_ Miss -Boydell, the doctor, without making any further inquiries after the -perfidious fair one, sold his shop and fixtures, and ran off from the -evil city of heartless women, to commune with beasts of the field and -birds of the air in sylvan retirement. Not a little chagrined was Miss -Boydell at the sudden disappearance of her ideal apothecary, whom her -uncle, the alderman, stigmatized in round, honest, indignant language, -as a big blackguard. After twelve years spent in wandering, "a forlorn -wretch, over the kingdom," Dr. Elliott returned to London, set up once -more in business, and began, for a second time, to drive a thriving -trade, when Delilah again crossed his path. "One day," he says, -telling his own story, "entering my shop (for I had commenced again -the business of apothecary) I found two ladies sitting there, one of -whom I thought I could recognize. As soon as she observed me, she -cried out, 'Mr. Elliot! Mr. Elliot!' and fell back in a swoon. The -well-known voice struck me like a shock of electricity--my affections -instantly gushed forth--I fell senseless at her feet. When I came to -myself, I found Miss Boydell sitting by my side." And _his_ Miss -Boydell was Miss Boydell still--innocent of wedlock. - -Imogene being proved true, and Alonzo having come to life, the -youthful couple renewed the engagement entered into more than twelve -years before. The wedding-day was fixed, the wedding-clothes were -provided, when uncle (the alderman), distrustful that his niece's -scranny lover would make a good husband, induced her at the last -moment to jilt him, and marry Mr. Nicols, an opulent bookseller. The -farce was now to wear an aspect of tragedy. Infuriated at being, -after all, _really_ deceived, Dr. Elliot bought two brace of pistols, -and bound them together in pairs. One pair he loaded only with powder; -into the other he put the proper quantum of lead, as well as the -pernicious dust. Armed with these weapons, he lay in wait for the -destroyer of his peace. After some days of watching he saw her in -Prince's Street, walking with the triumphant Nicols. Rushing up, he -fired at her the two pistols (not loaded with ball), and then -snatching the other brace from his pocket, was proceeding to commit -suicide, when he was seized by the bystanders and disarmed. - -The next scene in the drama was the principal court of the Old Bailey, -with Dr. Elliot in the dock, charged with an attempt to murder Miss -Boydell. The jury, being satisfied that the pistols were not loaded -with ball, and that the prisoner only intended to create a startling -impression on Miss Boydell's mind, acquitted him of that charge, and -he was remanded to prison to take his trial for a common assault. -Before this second inquiry, however, could come off, the poor man died -in Newgate, July 22, 1787, of a broken heart--or jail fever. Ere his -death, he took a cruel revenge of the lady, by writing an -autobiographic account of his love experiences, in which appeared the -following passage:--"Fascinated as I was by the charms of this -faithless woman, I had long ceased to be sensible to these defects, or -rather my impassioned imagination had converted them into perfections. -But those who did not labour under the power of this magic were struck -by her ungraceful exterior, and mine ears have not unfrequently been -shocked to hear the tongue of indifference pronounce that the object -of my passion was _ugly and deformed_. Add to this, that Miss Boydell -has long since ceased to boast the bloom of youth, and then let any -person, impartial and unprejudiced, decide whether a passion for her, -so violent as that I have manifested, could be the produce of a slight -and recent acquaintance, or whether it must not rather be the -consequence of a long habit and inveterate intimacy." Such was the -absurd sad story of John Elliot, author of "The Medical Almanack," -"Elements of the Branches of Natural Philosophy," and "Experiments and -Observations on Light and Colours." - -The mournful love-story of Dr. John Elliot made a deep impression on -the popular mind. It is found alluded to in ballads and chap-books, -and more than one penny romance was framed upon it. Not improbably it -suggested the composition of the following parody of Monk Lewis's -"Alonzo the Brave and the Fair Imogene," which appeared at the close -of the last century, during the first run of popularity which that -familiar ballad obtained:-- - - "GILES BOLUS THE KNAVE AND BROWN - SALLY GREEN. - - "A ROMANCE BY M. G. LEWIS. - - "A Doctor so grave and a virgin so bright, - Hob-a-nobbed in some right marasquin; - They swallowed the cordial with truest delight, - Giles Bolus the knave was just five feet in height, - And four feet the brown Sally Green. - - "'And as,' said Giles Bolus, 'to-morrow I go - To physic a feverish land, - At some sixpenny hop, or perhaps the mayor's show, - You'll tumble in love with some smart city beau, - And with him share your shop in the Strand.' - - "'Lord! how can you think so?' Brown Sally Green said, - 'You must know mighty little of me; - For if you be living, or if you be dead, - I swear, 'pon my honour, that none in your stead, - Shall husband of Sally Green be. - - "'And if e'er I by love or by wealth led aside - Am false to Giles Bolus the knave; - God grant that at dinner so amply suppli'd, - Over-eating may give me a pain in the side, - May your ghost then bring rhubarb to physic the bride, - And send her well-dosed to the grave.' - - "To Jamaica the doctor now hastened for gold, - Sally wept till she blew her nose sore; - Yet scarce had a twelvemonth elaps'd, when behold! - A brewer quite stylish his gig that way roll'd, - And stopped it at Sally Green's door. - - "His barrels, his bungs, and his brass-headed cane, - Soon made her untrue to his vows; - The stream of small beer now bewildered her brain; - He caught her while tipsy--denials were vain-- - So he carried her home as his spouse. - - "And now the roast-beef had been blest by the priest, - To cram now the guests had begun; - Tooth and nail, like a wolf, fell the bride on the feast - Nor yet had the clash of her knife and fork ceased, - When a bell (t'was the dustman's) toll'd one. - - "Then first, with amazement, brown Sally Green found, - That a stranger was stuck by her side. - His cravat and his ruffles with snuff were embrown'd; - He ate not--he drank not--but, turning him round, - Sent some pudding away to be fried. - - "His wig was turned forwards, and wort was his height, - His apron was dirty to view; - The women (oh! wondrous) were hushed at the sight, - The cats as they eyed him drew back (well they might), - For his body was pea-green and blue. - - "Now, as all wish'd to speak, but none knew what to say, - They look'd mighty foolish and queer: - At length spoke the lady with trembling--'I pray, - Dear sir, that your peruke aside you would lay, - And partake of some strong or small beer.' - - "The bride shuts her fly-trap--the stranger complies, - And his wig from his phiz deigns to pull. - Adzooks! what a squall Sally gave through surprise! - Like a pig that was stuck, how she opened her eyes, - When she recognized Giles's bare skull. - - "Each miss then exclaimed, while she turn'd up her snout, - 'Sir, your head isn't fit to be seen!'-- - The pot-boys ran in, and the pot-boys ran out, - And couldn't conceive what the noise was about, - While the doctor addressed Sally Green. - - "'Behold me, thou jilt-flirt! behold me!' he cri'd-- - 'I'm Bolus, whom some call the 'knave!' - God grant, that to punish your falsehood and pride, - You should feel at this moment a pain in your side. - Quick, swallow this rhubarb!--I'll physic the bride, - And send her well-dosed to the grave!' - - "Thus saying, the physic her throat he forced down, - In spite of whate'er she could say: - Then bore to his chariot the maiden so brown, - Nor ever again was she seen in that town, - Or the doctor who whisked her away. - - "Not long lived the brewer, and none since that time - To inhabit the brew-house presume; - For old women say that by order sublime - There Sally Green suffers the pain of her crime, - And bawls to get out of the room. - - "At midnight four times in each year does her sprite - With shrieks make the chamber resound. - 'I won't take the rhubarb!' she squalls in affright, - While a cup in his left hand, a draught in his right, - Giles Bolus pursues her around. - - "With wigs so well powdered, twelve doctors so grave, - Dancing hornpipes around them are seen; - They drink chicken-broth, and this horrible stave - Is twanged through each nose, 'To Giles Bolus the knave, - And his patient the sick Sally Green.'" - -In the court of love, Dr. Van Buchell, the empiric, may pass muster as -a physician. When that droll charlatan lost his first wife, in 1775, -he paid her the compliment of preserving her body with great care. Dr. -Hunter, with the assistance of Mr. Cruikshank, injected the -blood-vessels of the corpse with a carmine fluid, so that the cheeks -and lips had the hue of healthy life; the cavities of the body were -artistically packed with the antiseptics used by modern embalmers; and -glass eyes were substituted in place of the filmy balls which Death -had made his own. Decked in a dainty apparel of lace and finest linen, -the body was then placed in a bed of thin paste of plaster of Paris, -which, crystallizing, made a most ornamental couch. The case -containing this fantastic horror had a glass lid, covered with a -curtain; and as Van Buchell kept it in his ordinary sitting-room, he -had the pleasure of introducing his visitors to the lifeless form of -his "dear departed." For several years the doctor lived very happily -with this slough of an immortal soul--never quarrelling with it, never -being scolded by it--on the whole, enjoying an amount of domestic -tranquility that rarely falls to one man's lot. Unwisely he made in -advanced years a new alliance, and manifested a desire to be on with -the new and the old love at the same time. To this Mrs. Van Buchell -(No. 2) strongly objected, and insisted that the quaint coffin of Mrs. -Van Buchell (No. 1) should be removed from the parlour in which she -was expected to spend the greatest part of her days. The eccentric -mode in which Buchell displayed his affection for his first wife was -scarcely less repulsive than the devotion to the interests of -anatomical science which induced Rondeletius to dissect the dead body -of his own child in his theatre at Montpelier. - -Are there no more loves to be mentioned? Yes; let these concluding -pages tell an interesting story of the last generation. - -Fifty years ago the picturesque, sunny town of Holmnook had for its -physician one Dr. Kemp, a grave and reverend AEsculapius, punctilious -in etiquette, with an imposing formality of manner, accurate in -costume, in every respect a courtier of the old school. Holmnook is an -antique market-town, square and compact, a capital in miniature, lying -at the foot of an old feudal castle, in which the Bigods once held -sway. That stronghold of moated towers was three centuries since the -abode of a mighty Duke; Surrey, the poet earl, luckless and inspired, -was born within its walls. The noble acres of the princely house fell -into the hands of a _parvenu_--a rich, grasping lawyer;--that was bad. -The lawyer died and went to his place, leaving the land to the -poor;--that was better. And now the produce of the rich soil, which -whilom sent forth a crop of mailed knights, supports a college of toil -and time-worn peasants, saving their cold thin blood from the penury -of the poor-house, and sheltering them from the contumelies -of--Guardians of the Poor. Hard by the college, housing these ancient -humble children of man, is a school, based on the same beneficent -foundation, where the village lads are taught by as ripe a scholar and -true a gentleman as ever came from the banks of Isis; and round which -temple of learning they play their rough, noisy games, under the -observation of the veterans of the bourg--the almsmen and almswomen -who sit in the sun and on benches before their college, clad in the -blue coats of the charity, and feeling no shame in them, though the -armorial badge of that old lawyer is tacked upon them in red cloth. - -Holmnook is unlike most other English towns of its size, abounding as -it does in large antique mansions, formerly inhabited by the great -officers and dependents on the ducal household, who in many cases were -blood relations of the duke himself. Under the capacious windows of -these old houses, in the streets, and round the market-square, run -rows of limes, spreading their cool shade over the pinnacles of gabled -roofs, and flinging back bars across the shining shingle which -decorates the plaster walls of the older houses. In the centre of the -town stands an enormous church, large enough to hold an entire army of -Christians, and containing many imposing tombs of earls and leaders, -long since gone to their account. - -Think of this old town, its venerable dwellings--each by itself -suggesting a romance. Hear the cooing and lazy flapping of pigeons, -making continual holiday round the massive chimneys. Observe, without -seeming to observe, the mayor's pretty daughter sitting at the open -oriel window of the Guild-hall, merrily singing over her needle-work, -and wondering if her bright ribbon has a good effect on passers below. -Heed the jingle of a harpsichord in the rector's parlour. Be pleased -to remember that the year is 1790--not 1860. Take a glass of stinging -ale at "The Knight of Armour" hostelry--and own you enjoy it. Take -another, creaming good-naturedly up under your lip, and confess you -like it better than its predecessor. See the High Sheriff's carriage -pass through the excited town, drawn by four enormous black horses, -and having three Bacchic footmen hanging on behind. Do all this, and -then you'll have a faint notion of Holmnook, its un-English -picturesqueness, its placid joy, and experience of pomp. - -Who is the gentleman emerging from the mansion on the causeway, in -this year 1790--with white peruke and long pig-tail, snuff-coloured -coat and velvet collar, tight dark nether garments, silk stockings, -and shoes with buckles, volumes of white shirt-frill rising up under -his chin? As he taps his shoes on his doorstep you can see he is proud -of his leg, a pleasant pride, whether one has reason for it or not! - -Seventy years of age, staid, decorous, and thoroughly versed in the -social proprieties of the old world, now gone clean from us, like -chivalry or chartism, Dr. Kemp was an important personage in Holmnook -and its vicinity. An _eclat_ was his that a country doctor does not -usually possess. For he was of gentle blood, being a cadet of an old -and wealthy family on the other side of the country, the -representative of which hailed him "cousin," and treated him with the -intimacy of kinship--the kinship of 1790. - -Michael Kemp's youth had been spent away from Holmnook. Doubtless so -polite and dignified a gentleman had once aimed at a brighter lot than -a rural physician's. Doubtless he had a history, but he kept it to -himself. He had never married! The rumour went that he had been -disappointed--had undertaken the conquest of a high-born lady, who -gave another ending to the game; and having conquered him, went off to -conquer others. Ladies could do such things in the last century--when -men had hearts. - -Anyhow, Michael Kemp, M.D., was an old bachelor, of spotless honour, -and a reputation that scandal never dared to trifle with. - -A lady, much respected by the simple inhabitants of Holmsnook, kept -his house. - -Let us speak of her--fair and forty, comely, with matronly outlines, -but graceful. Pleasant of voice, cheerful in manner, active in -benevolence, Mistress Alice was a great favourite; no christening or -wedding could go off without her for miles around. The doctor's -grandest patients treated her as an equal; for apart from her personal -claims to respect and good-will, she was, it was understood, of the -doctor's blood--a poor relation, gentle by birth as she was by -education. Mistress Alice was a great authority amongst the Holmnook -ladies, on all matters pertaining to dress and taste. Her own ordinary -costume was an artistic one. A large white kerchief, made so as to sit -like a jacket, close and high round the throat, concealed her fair -arms and shoulders, and reached down to the waist of her dress, which, -in obedience to the fashion of the time, ran close beneath her arms. -In 1790 a lady's waist at Holmnook occupied just about the same place -where the drapery of a London belle's Mazeppa harness offers its first -concealment to its wearer's charms. But it was on her foot-gear that -Mistress Alice devoted especial care. The short skirts of that day -encouraged a woman to set her feet off to the best advantage. Mistress -Alice wore natty high-heeled shoes and clocked stockings--bright -crimson stockings with yellow clocks. - -Do you know what clocked stockings were, ladies? This writer is not -deeply learned on such matters, but having seen a pair of Mistress -Alice's stockings, he can tell you that they had on either side, -extending from the heel upwards some six inches, flowers gracefully -embroidered with a light yellow silk on the crimson ground. And these -wreaths of broidery were by our ancestors called clocks. This writer -could tell something else about Mistress Alice's apparel. She had for -grand evenings of high festivity white kid gloves reaching up to the -elbow, and having a slit at the tips of the forefinger and thumb of -each hand. It was an ordinary fashion long syne. So, ladies could let -out the tips of those digits to take a pinch of snuff! - -One night Michael Kemp, M.D., Oxon., was called up to come with every -possible haste to visit a sick lady, urgently in want of him. The -night-bell was rung violently, and the messenger cried to the doctor -over and over from the pavement below to make good speed. The doctor -did his best to comply; but, as ill-luck would have it, after he had -struck a light the candle illumined by it fell down, and left the -doctor in darkness. This was very annoying to the good man, for he -could not reconcile it to his conscience to consume time in lighting -another, and yet it was hard for such a decorous man to make his hasty -toilet in the dark. - -He managed, however, better than he expected. His peruke came to hand -all right; so did the tight inexpressibles; so did the snuff-coloured -coat with high velvet collar; so did the buckled shoes. Bravo! - -In another five minutes the active physician had groped his way -down-stairs, emerged from his stately dwelling, and had run to his -patient's house. - -In a trice he was admitted; in a twinkle he was up the stairs; in -another second he was by the sick lady's bedside, round which were -seated a nurse and three eminent Holmnook gossips. - -He was, however, little prepared for the reception he met with--the -effect his appearance produced. - -The sick lady, struggling though she was with severe pain, laughed -outright. - -The nurse said, "Oh my!--Doctor Kemp!" - -Gossip No. 1 exclaimed, "Oh, you'll kill me!" - -Gossip No. 2 cried, "I can't believe my eyes!" - -Gossip No. 3 exploded with--"Oh, Doctor Kemp, do look at your -stockings!" - -And the doctor, obeying, did look at his stockings. One was of black -silk--the other was a crimson one, with yellow clocks. - -Was there not merry talk the next day at Holmnook! Didn't one hear -blithe hearty laughter at every street corner--at every window under -the limes? - -What did they laugh about? What did they say? - -Only this, fair reader-- - - "_Honi soit qui mal y pense_." - -God bless thee, Holmnook! The bells of thy old church-tower are -jangling in my ears though thou art a hundred miles away. I see the -blue heavens kissing thy limes! - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV. - -LITERATURE AND ART. - - -The old proverb says, "Every man is a physician or a fool by forty." -Sir Henry Halford happening to quote the old saw to a circle of -friends, Canning, with a pleasant humour smiling in his eyes, -inquired, "Sir Henry, mayn't he be both?" - -John Locke, according to academic registration, was not a physician -till he was past forty. Born in 1632, he took his M.B. degree Feb. -6th, 1674. To what extent he exercised his profession is still a -matter of dispute; but there is no doubt that he was for some period -an active practitioner of it. Of his letters to Hans Sloane, that are -still extant, the following is one:-- - - - "DEAR SIR,-- - - "I have a patient here sick of the fever at this season. It - seems not violent; but I am told 'tis a sort that is not - easily thrown off. I desire to know of you what your fevers - in town are, and what methods you find most successful in - them? I shall be obliged by your favour if you will give me - a word or two by to-morrow's post, and direct it to me, to - be left at Mr Harrison's, in the 'Crown,' at Harlow. - - "I am, Sir, - "Your most humble servant, - "J LOCKE." - - -Popularly the name of Locke is as little associated with the -profession of medicine as that of Sir James Mackintosh, who was a -practising physician, till ambition and poverty made him select a more -lucrative vocation, and turn his energies to the bar. - -Distinguished amongst literary physicians was Andrew Borde, who -studied Medicine at Oxford and Montpelier, and it is said acted as a -physician in the service of Henry the Eighth. Borde's career has -hitherto been a puzzle to antiquaries who, though interested in it, -have been able to discover only little about it. It was his whim to -sign himself Andrew Perforatus (his name really signifying "a -cottage,"--"bordarius=a cottager"). In the same way after him Robert -Fludd, the Rosicrucian doctor, adopted for his signature Robertus de -Fluctibus. In his works he occasionally gives the reader a glimpse of -his personal adventures; and from contemporary literature, as well as -tradition, we learn enough to feel justified in believing that he -created the cant term "Merry Andrew." - -Of his freaks, about the most absurd was his conduct when acting as -foreman of a jury in a small borough town. A prisoner was charged with -stealing a pair of leather breeches, but though appearances were -strongly against the accused (who was a notorious rogue), the evidence -was so defective that to return a verdict of guilty on the charge was -beyond the logic and conscience of the twelve good men and true. No -course seemed open to them but to acquit the knave; when Andrew Borde -prevailed on them, _as_ the evidence of stealing the leather breeches -was so defective, to bring him in guilty of manslaughter. - -It is needless to say that the jurymen took Andrew's advice, and -finding a verdict to the best of those abilities with which it had -pleased God to bless them, astonished the judge and the public, not -less than the prisoner, with the strange conclusion at which they had -arrived. - -Anthony a Wood and Hearne tell us the little that has hitherto been -known of this eccentric physician. To that little an important -addition may be made from the following letter, never before -published, the original of which is in the State-Paper Office. The -epistle is penned to Henry the Eighth's minister, Thomas Cromwell. - - "Jesus. - - "Offering humbly salutacyon with dew reverance. I certyffy - yor mastershepp that I am now in Skotlonde in a lyttle - universite or study namyd Glasko, where I study and practyce - physyk as I have done in dyverse regyons and servyces for - the sustentacyon off my lyvyng, assewring you that in ye - parts that I am yn ye king's grace hath many hundred and in - manner all men of presence (except some skolastycall men) - that be hys adversarys. I resortt to ye Skotysh king's howse - and to ye erle of Aryn, namyd Hamylton, and to ye Lord - Evyndale, namyd Stuerd, and to many lords and lards as well - spyrytuall as temporal, and truly I know their mynds, for - they takyth me for a Skotysh man's sone, for I name my - selff Karre, and so ye Karres kallyth me cosyn, thorow ye - which I am in the more favor. Shortly to conclude; trust you - no Skott for they wyll yowse flatterying wordes and all ys - falshold. I suppose veryly that you have in Ynglond by - hundred and thowsand Skotts and innumerable other alyons, - which doth (specyally ye Skotts) much harme to the king's - leege men throw their evyll wordes, for as I went thorow - Ynglond I mett and was in company off many rurall felows, - Englishmen that love nott our gracyose kyng. Wold to Jesu - that some were ponyshed to geve others example. Wolde to - Jesu also that you had never an alyen in yor realme, - specyally Skotts, for I never knew alyen good for Ynglond - except they knew proffytt and lucre should come to them so. - In all parts of Chrystyndome that I have travylled in I know - nott V Englishmen inhabytants except only scholers for - learning. I pray to Jesu that alyens do in Ynglond no more - harme to Ynglonde, and yff I myght do Ynglonde any servyce, - specyally to my soveryn lord the kyng and to you, I would do - ytt to spend and putt my lyfe in danger and jeberdy as far - as any man. God be my judge. You have my hartt and shall be - sure of me to the uttermost of my pore power. for I am never - able to make you amends, for when I was in greatt thraldom, - both bodyly and goastly, you of yor gentylnes sett me att - liberte. Also I thank yor mastershepp for yor grett kyndnes - that you have shewed me att Bysshopps Waltham, and that you - gave me lycense to come to you ons in a qwarrtter. as sone - as I come home I intende to come to you to submytt my selff - to you to do with me what you wyll. for for lak of wytt - paradventter I may in this wrettyng say that shall nott - content you. but god be my judge I mene trewly both to my - sovereyngne lord the kyng and to you. when I was kept in - thrawldom in ye charterhouse and know neither ye kyngs noble - acts nor you, then stultycyusly throw synstrall wordes I dyd - as man of the others doth, butt after I was att lyberte - manyfestly I aparsevyd ye ignorance and blyndnes that they - and I wer yn. for I could never know no thynge of no maner - of matter butt only by them, and they wolde cawse me wrett - full incypyently to ye prior of London when he was in ye - tower before he was putt to exicuyon. for ye which I trustt - yor mastershepp hath pardonyd me, for god knoweth I was - keppt in prison straytly, and glad I was to wrett att theyr - request, but I wrott nothyng that I thought shold be agenst - my prince nor you nor no other man. I pray god that you may - provyde a good prior for that place of London, for truly - there be many wylfull and obstynatt yowng men that stondeth - to much in their owne consaytt and wyll nott be reformyd - butt playth ye chyldryn, and a good prior wolde so serve - them lyke chyldryn. News I have to wrett to you butt I - yntende to be with ou shortly. for I am half wery off this - baryn contry, as Jesu Chryst knowth, who ever keppe you in - helthe and honor. a myle from Edynborough, the fyrst day off - Apryll, by the hand of yor poer skoler and servantt,--Andrew - Boorde Preest." - -Literary physicians have, as a rule, not prospered as medical -practitioners. The public harbour towards them the same suspicious and -unfavourable prejudices as they do to literary barristers. A man, it -is presumed, cannot be a master of two trades at the same time, and -where he professes to carry on two it is usually concluded that he -understands neither. To display the injustice of such views is no part -of this writer's work, for the task is in better hands--time and -experience, who are yearly adding to the cases that support the -converse proposition that if a man is really a proficient in one -subject, the fact is of itself a reason for believing him a master of -a second. - -Still, the number of brilliant writers who have enrolled themselves in -the medical fraternity is remarkable. If they derived no benefit from -their order, they have at least generously conferred lustre upon it. -Goldsmith--though no one can say on what his claim to the title of -doctor rested, and though in his luckless attempts to get medical -employment he underwent even more humiliation and disgrace than fell -to his lot as the drudge of Mrs. Griffiths--is one of the most -pleasant associations that our countrymen have in connection with the -history of "the Faculty." Smollett, like Goldsmith, tried -ineffectually to escape from literary drudgery to the less irksome and -more profitable duties that surround the pestle and mortar. Of Garth, -Blackmore, Arbuthnot, and Akenside, notice has already been taken. - -Anything like a complete enumeration of medical men who have made -valuable contributions to _belles lettres_ would fill a volume, by the -writing of which very little good would be attained. By no means the -least of them was Armstrong, whose portrait Thomson introduced into -the "Castle of Indolence." - - "With him was sometimes joined in silken walk - (Profoundly silent--for they never spoke), - One shyer still, who quite detested talk; - If stung by spleen, at once away he broke - To grove of pine and broad o'ershadowing oak. - There, inly thrilled, he wandered all alone, - And on himself his pensive fury woke: - He never uttered word, save when first shone - The glittering star of eve--'Thank Heaven, the day is done.'" - -His medical writings, and his best known poem, "The Art of Health," -had he written nothing else, would in all probability have brought him -patients, but the licentiousness of "The Economy of Love" effectually -precluded him from ever succeeding as a family physician. Amongst -Armstrong's poet friends was Grainger, the amiable and scholarly -physician who enjoyed the esteem of Percy and Samuel Johnson, -Shenstone and Sir Joshua. Soon after the publication of his -translation of the "Elegies of Tibullus," (1758), Grainger went to the -island of St. Christopher's, and established himself there as a -physician. The scenery and industrial occupations of the island -inspired him to write his most important poem, "The Sugar-Cane," -which, in escaping such derision as was poured on Blackmore's -effusions, owed its good fortune to the personal popularity of the -author rather than its intrinsic merits. The following sample is a -fair one:-- - - "Destructive on the upland groves - The monkey nation preys: from rocky heights, - In silent parties they descend by night, - And posting watchful sentinels, to warn - When hostile steps approach, with gambols they - Pour o'er the cane-grove. Luckless he to whom - That land pertains! in evil hour, perhaps, - And thoughtless of to-morrow, on a die - He hazards millions; or, perhaps, reclines - On luxury's soft lap, the pest of wealth; - And, inconsiderate, deems his Indian crops - Will amply her insatiate wants supply. - - "From these insidious droles (peculiar pest - Of Liamigia's hills) would'st thou defen - Thy waving wealth, in traps put not thy trust, - However baited: treble every watch, - And well with arms provide them; faithful dogs, - Of nose sagacious, on their footsteps wait. - With these attack the predatory bands; - Quickly, th' unequal conflict they decline, - And chattering, fling their ill-got spoils away. - So when, of late, innumerous Gallic hosts, - Fierce, wanton, cruel, did by stealth invade - The peaceable American's domains, - While desolation mark'd their faithless rout; - No sooner Albion's martial sons advanc'd, - Than the gay dastards to their forests fled, - And left their spoils and tomahawks behind. - "_Nor with less haste the whisker'd vermin race, - A countless clan, despoil the low-land cane._ - "These to destroy, &c." - -When the poem was read in MS. at Sir Joshua's house, the lines printed -in italics were not part of the production, but in their place stood-- - - "Now, Muse, let's sing of _rats_." - -The immediate effect of such _bathos_ was a burst of inextinguishable -laughter from the auditors, whose sense of the ridiculous was by no -means quieted by the fact that one of the company, slyly overlooking -the reader, discovered that "the word had originally been _mice_, and -had been altered to _rats_, as more dignified." - -Above the crowd of minor medical _litterateurs_ are conspicuous, -Moore, the author of "Zeluco"; Dr. Aikin, one of whose many works has -been already referred to; Erasmus Darwin, author of "The Botanic -Garden"; Mason Good, the translator of "Lucretius," and author of the -"Study of Medicine"; Dr. Ferriar, whose "Illustrations of Sterne" just -doubled the value in the market of "Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy"; -Cogan, the author of "Life and Opinions of John Buncle, jun."; Dr. -Harrington, of Bath, editor of the "Nugae Antiquae"; Millingen, who -wrote "The Curiosities of Medical Practice," and "The History of -Duelling"; Dr. Paris, whose "Life of Sir Humphrey Davy," -unsatisfactory as it is in many places, is still a useful book, and -many of whose other writings will long remain of great value; Wadd, -the humourous collector of "Medical Ana"; Dr. Merriman, the late -contributor to the _Gentleman's Magazine_ and _Notes and Queries_; and -Pettigrew, the biographer of Lettsom. If the physicians and surgeons -still living, who have openly or anonymously written with good effect -on subjects not immediately connected with their profession, were -placed before the reader, there would be found amongst them many of -the most distinguished of their fraternity. - -_Apropos_ of the Dr. Harrington mentioned above, a writer says--"The -Doctor for many years attended the Dowager Lady Trevor, relict of Lord -Trevor, and last surviving daughter of Sir Richard Steele. He spoke of -this lady as possessing all the wit, humour, and gaiety of her father, -together with most of his faults. She was extravagant, and always in -debt; but she was generous, charitable, and humane. She was -particularly partial to young people, whom she frequently entertained -most liberally, and delighted them with the pleasantry and volubility -of her discourse. Her person was like that which her pleasant father -described himself in the _Spectator_, with his short face, &c. A -little before her death (which was in the month of December) she sent -for her doctor, and, on his entering her chamber, he said, 'How fares -your Ladyship!' She replied, 'Oh, my dear Doctor, ill fare! I am -going to break up before the holidays!' This agreeable lady lived many -years in Queen's Square, Bath, and, in the summer months, at St. Ann's -Hill, Surrey, the late residence of Rt. Hon. Chas. James Fox." - -Wolcot, better known as Peter Pindar, was a medical practitioner, his -father and many of his ancestors having followed the same calling in -Devonshire and Cornwall, under the names of Woolcot, Wolcott, -Woolacot, Walcot, or Wolcot. After acquiring a knowledge of his -profession in a somewhat irregular manner Wolcot found a patron in Sir -William Trelawny, Bart., of Trelawny, co. Cornwall, who, on going out -to assume the governorship of Jamaica, took the young surgeon with him -to act as medical officer to his household. In Jamaica Wolcot figured -in more characters than one. He was the governor's grand-master of the -ceremonies, private secretary, and chaplain. When the King of the -Mosquitoes waited on the new governor to express his loyal devotion to -the King of England's representative, Wolcot had to entertain the -royal guest--no difficult task as long as strong drink was in the way. - -His Majesty--an enormously stout black brute--regarded intoxication as -the condition of life most fit for kings. - - "Champagne the courtier drinks, the spleen to chase, - The colonel Burgundy, and port his Grace." - -The autocrat of the Mosquitoes, as the greatest only are, in his -simplicity sublime, was contented with rum or its equivalent. - -"Mo' drink for king! Mo' drink for king!" he would bellow, dancing -round the grand-master of the governor's household. - -"King," the grand-master would reply, "you are drunk already." - -"No, no; king no drunk. Mo' drink for king! Broder George" (_i. e._ -George III.) "love drink!" - -_Grand-Master._--"Broder George does not love drink: he is a sober -man." - -_Autocrat._--"But King of Musquito love drink. Me will have mo' drink. -Me love drink like devil. Me drink whole ocean!" - -The different meagre memoirs of Peter Pindar are conflicting as to -whether he ever received ordination from the hands of the Bishop of -London. It seems most probable that he never did. But, consecrated or -not, there is no doubt that he officiated as a colonial rector for -some time. Droll stories of him as a parish priest used to circulate -amongst his friends, as well as amongst his enemies. He read prayers -and preached whenever a congregation appeared in his church, but three -Sundays out of every four not a soul came to receive the benefit of -his ministrations. - -The rector was an admirable shot, and on his way from his house to -church used to amuse himself with shooting pigeons, his clerk--also an -excellent shot--walking behind with a fowling-piece in his hand, and -taking part in the sport. Having reached the sacred edifice, his -reverence and attendant opened the church door and waited in the porch -ten minutes for the advent of worshippers. If none had presented -themselves at the end of ten minutes, the pastor beat a retreat. If -only a few black Christians straggled up, the rector bought them off -with a few coins and then went home. One cunning old negro, who saw -that the parson's heart was more with the wild-fowl of the neighboring -bay than bent on the discharge of his priestly functions, after a -while presented himself every Sunday, when the following interview and -arrangement were regularly repeated:-- - -"What do you come here for, blackee?" the parson would exclaim. - -"Why, massa, to hear your good sermon and all de prayer ob de church." - -"Would not a _bit_ or two do you more good?" - -"Yes, massa doctor--me lub prayer much, but me lub money too." - -The "bit or two" would then be paid, and the devotee would retire -speedily from the scene. For an entire twelve-month was this -_black_-mail exacted. - -On his return to England, Wolcot, after a few unsuccessful attempts to -establish himself in practice, relinquished the profession of physic -as well as that of divinity, and, settling himself in London, made -both fame and a good income by his writings. As a political satirist -he was in his day almost without a rival, and the popularity of his -numerous works would have placed a prudent man in lasting affluence. -Improvidence, however, necessitated him to sell the copyright of his -works to Messrs. Robinson, Golding, and Walker for an annuity of L250, -payable half-yearly, during the remainder of his life. Loose -agreements have always been the fashion between authors and -publishers, and in the present case it was not clearly stated what -"copyright of his works" meant. The publishers interpreted it as the -copyright of both what the author had written at the time of making -the agreement, and also of what he should subsequently write. Wolcot, -however, declared that he had in the transaction only had regard to -his prior productions. After some litigation and more squabbling, the -publishers consented to take Wolcot's view of the case; but he never -forgave them the discomfort they had caused him. His rancour against -"the trade" increased with time, and inspired some of his most violent -and unjust verses:-- - - "Fired with the love of rhyme, and, let me say, - Or virtue, too, I sound the moral lay; - Much like St. Paul (who solemnly protests - He battled hard at Ephesus with beasts), - I've fought with lions, monkeys, bulls, and bears, - And got half Noah's ark about my ears; - Nay, more (which all the courts of justice know), - Fought with the brutes of Paternoster Row." - -For medicine Peter Pindar had even less respect than Garth had. He -used to say "that he did not like the practice of it as an art. He was -entirely ignorant, indeed, whether the patient was cured by the vis -_medicatrix naturae_, or the administration of a little pill, which was -either directly or indirectly to reach the part affected." And for the -practitioners of the art held in such low esteem, he cherished a -contempt that he would at times display with true Pindaric warmth. In -his two-act farce, "Physic and Delusion; or Jezebel and the Doctors," -the dialogue is carried on in the following strain:-- - - "_Blister._-- By God, old prig! - Another word, and by my wig---- - - "_Bolus._--Thy wig? Great accoucheur, well said, - 'Tis of more value than thy head; - And 'mongst thy customers--poor ninnies! - Has helped thee much to bag thy guineas." - -Amongst Peter Pindar's good services to the world was the protection -he afforded to Opie (or Oppy, as it was at one time less euphoniously -spelt and pronounced) the artist, when he was a poor country clown, -rising at three o'clock in the summer mornings, to pursue his art with -rude pieces of chalk and charcoal. Wolcot presented the boy with his -first pencils, colours, and canvas, and put him in the way to paint -portraits for the magnificent remuneration of half-a-guinea, and -subsequently a guinea a-head. And it was to the same judicious friend -that Opie, on leaving the provinces, owed his first success in London. - -Wolcot used to tell some droll stories about his artist friend. Opie's -indiscreet manner was a source of continual trouble to those who -endeavoured to serve him; for, priding himself on being "a rough -diamond," he took every pains that no one should fail to see the -roughness. A lady sitter was anxious that her portrait should be "very -handsome," and frankly told the painter so. "Then, madam," was the -reply, "you wish to be painted otherwise than you are. I see you do -not want your own face." Not less impudent was he at the close of his -first year in London, in taking out writs against several sitters who -were rather tardy in their payments. - -Opie was not the only artist of celebrity deeply indebted to Peter -Pindar. Bone, the painter in enamel, found an efficient friend in the -same discerning lover of the arts. In this respect Wolcot was worthy -of the profession which he deserted, and affected to despise; and his -name will ever be honourably mentioned amongst those physicians who -have fostered art, from the days of picture-loving Mead, down to those -of the writer's very kind friend, Dr. Diamond, who gathered from -remote quarters "The Diamond Collection of Portraits," which may be -seen amongst the art treasures of Oxford. - -One of the worthies of Dr. Diamond's family was Robertus Fludd, or De -Fluctibus, the writer of Rosicrucian celebrity who gave Sterne more -than one lesson in the arts of eccentricity. Sir Thomas Fludd of -Milgate, Bearsted, co. Kent (grandson of David Fludd, _alias_ Lloyd of -Morton, in Shropshire), had five sons and a daughter. Of this -offspring, one son, Thomas, purchased Gore Court, and fixed there a -family, the vicissitudes of which may be learnt by a reference to -Hasted's Kent. From this branch of the Fludds descended Dr. Diamond, -who, amongst other curious family relics, possesses the diploma of -Robertus de Fluctibus. - -When Robertus de Fluctibus died, Sept. 8, 1637, in Coleman St., -London, his body, under the protection of a herald of arms, was -conveyed to the family seat in Kent, and was then buried in Bearsted -Church, under a stone which he had before laid for himself. The -monument over his ashes was ordered by him in his last will to be made -after that of William Camden in the Abbey at Westminster. The -inscription which marks his resting-place declares his, rather than -our, estimate of his intellectual greatness; - - Magnificus non haec sub odoribus urna vaporat, - Crypta tegit cineres nec speciosa tuos. - Quod mortale minus, tibi te committimus unum; - Ingenii vivent hic monumenta tui - Nam tibi qui similis scribit, moriturque, sepulchrum - Pro tota aeternum posteritate facit. - -More modest, and at the same time more humorous, is the epitaph, in -Hendon Church, of poor Thomas Crossfield, whose name, alike as surgeon -and politician, has passed from among men:-- - - "Underneath Tom Crossfield lies, - Who cares not now who laughs or cries. - He always laughed, and when mellow - Was a harum scarum sort of fellow. - To none gave designed offence, - So--_Honi soit qui mal y pense_." - -Amongst the medical poets there is one whom all scholarly physicians -jealously claim as of their body--John Keats; he who, dying at Rome, -at the age of twenty-six, wished his epitaph to be, "Here lies one -whose name was writ in water." After serving his apprenticeship under -an Edmonton surgeon, the author of "Endymion" became a medical student -at St. Thomas's hospital. - -Mention here, too, may be made of Dr. Macnish, the author of "The -Anatomy of Drunkenness," and "The Modern Pythagorean"; and of Dr. -Moir, the poet, whose death, a few years since, robbed the world of a -simple and pathetic writer, and his personal acquaintance of a -noble-hearted friend. - -But of all modern English poets who have had an intimate personal -connection with the medical profession, the greatest by far is -Crabbe-- - - "Nature's sternest painter, yet the best." - -In 1754 George Crabbe was born in the old sea-faring town of -Aldborough, in the county of Suffolk. His father, the collector of -salt-duties, or salt-master of the town, was a churlish sullen fellow -at the best of times; but, falling upon adversity in his old days, he -became the _beau-ideal_ of a domestic tyrant. He was not, however, -without his respectable points. Though a poor man, he did his best to -educate his children above the ranks of the very poor. One of them -became a thriving glazier in his native town; another went to sea, and -became captain of a Liverpool slave-ship; and a third, also a sailor, -met with strange vicissitudes--at one time enjoying a very -considerable amount of prosperity, and then suffering penury and -persecution. A studious and a delicate lad, George, the eldest of the -party, was designed for some pursuit more adapted to his disposition -and physical powers than the avocations of working mechanics, or the -hard duties of the marine service. When quite a child, he had, amongst -the inhabitants of Aldborough, a reputation for mental superiority -that often did him good service. On one occasion he chanced to offend -a playmate--his senior and "master," as boys and savages term it--and -was on the point of receiving a good thrashing nigh the roaring waves -of old ocean, when a third boy, a common acquaintance, exclaimed in a -voice of affright:-- - -"Yar marn't middle a' him; lit him aloone--he ha' got l'arning." - -The plea was admitted as a good one, and the future bard, taking his -benefit of clergy, escaped the profanation of a drubbing. - -George was sent to two respectable schools, the one at Bungay, in -Suffolk, and the other (the better of the two) at Stowmarket, in the -same county. The expense of such an education, even if it amounted to -no more than L20 per annum, was no small undertaking for the -salt-master of a fishing-village; for Aldborough--now a handsome and -much frequented provincial watering-place--was in 1750 nothing better -than a collection of huts, whose humble inhabitants possessed little -stake in the commonweal beyond the right of sending to parliament two -members to represent their interests and opinions. On leaving school, -in his fourteenth year, George was apprenticed to a country doctor of -a very rough sort, who plied his trade at Wickham Brook, a small -village near Bury St. Edmunds. It is a fact worthy of note, as -throwing some light on the state of the profession in the provinces, -that the apprentice shared the bed of his master's stable-boy. At -Wickham Brook, however, the lad did not remain long to endure such -indignity. He was removed from that scene of trial, and placed under -the tutelage of Mr. Page, a surgeon of Woodbridge, a gentleman of good -connections and polite tastes, and through the marriage of his -daughter with the late famous Alderman Wood, an ancestor of a learned -judge, who is not more eminent as a lawyer than beloved as a man. - -It was during his apprenticeship to Mr. Page of Woodbridge that Crabbe -made his first important efforts in poetry, publishing, in the year -1772, some fugitive pieces in _Wheble's Magazine_, and in 1775 -"Inebriety, a poem, in three parts. Ipswich: printed and sold by C. -Punchard, bookseller, in the Butter-market." While at Woodbridge, too, -his friend Levett, a young surgeon of the neighborhood, took him over -to Framlingham, introducing him to the families of that picturesque -old town. William Springall Levett was at that time engaged to Alethea -Brereton, a lady who, under the _nom de plume_ of "Eugenia Acton," -wrote certain novels that created a sensation in their brief day. -Amongst them were "Vicissitudes of Genteel Life," "The Microcosm," -and "A Tale without a Title." The love-making of Mr. Levett and Miss -Eugenia de Acton was put a stop to by the death of the former, in -1774. The following epitaph, transcribed from the History of -Framlingham, the work of the able antiquarian, Mr. Richard Green, is -interesting as one of Crabbe's earlier compositions. - - "What! though no trophies peer above his dust, - Nor sculptured conquests deck his sober bust; - What! though no earthly thunders sound his name, - Death gives him conquest, and our sorrows fame! - One sigh reflection heaves, but shuns excess, - More should we mourn him, did we love him less." - -Subsequently Miss Brereton married a gentleman named Lewis, engaged in -extensive agricultural operations. However brief her literary -reputation may have been, her pen did her good service; for, at a -critical period of her husband's career, it brought her sums of -much-needed money. - -Mr. Levett's romance closed prematurely together with his life, but -through him Crabbe first became acquainted with the lovely girl whom -he loved through years of trial, and eventually made his wife. Sarah -Elmy was the niece of John Tovell, _yeoman_, not _gentleman_--he would -have scorned the title. Not that the worthy man was without pride of -divers kinds, or that he did not hold himself to be a gentleman. He -believed in the Tovells as being one of the most distinguished -families of the country. A Tovell, by mere right of being a Tovell, -could thrash more Frenchmen than any Englishman, not a Tovell, could. -When the good man said, "I am nothing more than a plain yeoman," he -never intended or expected any one to believe him, or to regard his -words in any other light than as a playful protest against being -deemed "a plain yeoman," or that modern hybrid, "a gentleman farmer." - -He was a well-made, handsome, pleasant fellow--riding a good horse -with the hounds--loving good cheer--enjoying laughter, without being -very particular as to the cause of it--a little too much addicted to -carousing, but withal an agreeable and useful citizen; and he lived at -Parham Lodge, a house that a peer inhabited after him, without making -any important alterations in the place. - -On Crabbe's first introduction to Parham Lodge he was received with -cordiality; but when it was seen that he had fallen in love with the -squire's niece, it was only natural that "his presumption" should not -at first meet the approval either of Mrs. Tovell or her husband. But -the young people plighted troth to each other, and the engagement was -recognized by the lady's family. It was years, however, before the -wedding bells were set ringing. Crabbe's apprenticeship to Mr. Page -finished, he tried ineffectually to raise the funds for a regular -course of hospital instruction in London. Returning to Aldborough, he -furnished a shop with a few bottles and a pound's worth of drugs, and -set up as "an apothecary." Of course it was only amongst the poor of -his native town that he obtained patients, the wealthier inhabitants -of the borough distrusting the knowledge of a doctor who had not -walked the hospitals. In the summer of 1778, however, he was appointed -surgeon to the Warwickshire militia, then stationed at Aldborough, and -in the following winter, on the Warwickshire militia being moved and -replaced by the Norfolk militia, he was appointed surgeon to the -latter regiment also. But these posts were only temporary, and -conferred but little emolument on their holder. At length poverty -drove the poet from his native town. The rest of his career is matter -of notoriety. Every reader knows how the young man went to London and -only escaped the death of Otway or Chatterton by the generous -patronage of Burke, how through Burke's assistance he was ordained, -became the Duke of Rutland's chaplain, obtained comfortable church -preferment, and for a long span enjoyed an amount of domestic -happiness that was as great and richly deserved as his literary -reputation. - -Crabbe's marriage with Sarah Elmy eventually conferred on him and his -children the possession of Parham Lodge, which estate, a few years -since, passed from them into the hands of wealthy purchasers. The poet -also succeeded to other wealth through the same connection, an -old-maid sister of John Tovell leaving him a considerable sum of -money. "I can screw Crabbe up and down like an old fiddle," this -amiable lady was fond of saying; and during her life she proved that -her boast was no empty one. But her will was a handsome apology for -all her little tiffs. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV. - -NUMBER ELEVEN--A HOSPITAL STORY. - - -"Then, sir," said Mrs. Mallet, "if you'll only not look so frightened, -I'll tell you how it was. It is now twenty years ago that I was very -unfortunate. I was not more than thirty years of age, but I was old -enough to have just lost a good husband and a dear little babe; and -then, when I hadn't a sixpence in my pocket, I caught the fever, and -had to go to a hospital. I wasn't used to trouble; for although I was -nothing better than a poor man's child, I had known all my life -nothing but kindness. I never had but one mistress,--my lady, who when -she was the most beautiful young lady in all Devonshire, took me out -of a village school, and raised me to be her maid; and her maid I was -for twelve years--first down in Devonshire, and afterwards up in -London, when she married (somewhat against the will of her family) a -thorough good gentleman, but a poor one, who after a time took her out -to India, where he became a judge, and she a grand lady. My dear -mistress would have taken me out to India with her, only she was then -too poor to pay for my passage out, and bear the expense of me there, -where labour can be got so cheap, and native servants can live on a -handful of rice a day. She, sir, is Lady Burridge--the same who gave -me the money to start in this house with, and whose carriage you saw -yesterday at my door. - -"So my mistress went eastward, and I was left behind to marry a young -man I had loved for some few years, and who had served during that -time as clerk to my lady's husband. I was a young woman, and young -women, to the end of the chapter, will think it a brave thing to fall -in love. I thought my sweetheart was a handsomer and cleverer man than -any other of his station in all London. I wonder how many girls have -thought the same of their favourites! I went to church one morning -with a fluttering heart and trembling knees, and came out under the -porch thinking that all my life would ever afterwards be brighter, and -lighter, and sunnier than it had been before. Well! in dancing into -that pretty blunder, I wasn't a bigger fool than lots of others. - -"And if a good husband is a great blessing (and she must be a paltry -woman who can say nay to that), I was born to luck; for my husband was -kind, good, and true--his temper was as sweet at home as his manners -were abroad--he was hard-working and clever, sober and devout; -and--though you may laugh at a woman of my age talking so like a -romance--I tell you, sir, that if my life had to come all over again, -I'd rather have the mischance of marrying my dear Richard, that the -good fortune of wedding a luckier man. - -"There's no doubt the game turned out ill for me. At first it seemed -as if it would be just otherwise, for my husband had good health, -plenty of work, and sufficient pay; so that, when my little girl came, -her sweet face brought no shadow of anxiety with it, and we hoped she -would be followed in due course by half-a-dozen more. But ere the dear -babe had learned to prattle, a drear change came over the happy -prospect. The fever crept over the gentle darling, and after she had -suffered for a week or more, lying on my arms, God raised her from me -into his happy home, where the beauty of summer reigns for ever, and -the coldness of winter never enters. Richard and I took the body of -our babe to the burial-ground, and saw it covered up in the earth -which by turns gives all we get, and takes away from us all we have; -and as we walked back to our deserted home, arm-in-arm, in the light -of the summer's evening, we talked to each other more solemnly and -tenderly than we had done for many a day. And the next morning he went -back to his work in the office, from which he had absented himself -since our child's death; and I encouraged him to cheer up, and not to -give way to sorrow when I was not nigh to comfort him, but toil -bravely and hopefully, as a man should; and in so advising him, I do -not blush to say that I thought not only of what was best for his -spirits, but also of what our necessity required--for we were only -poor people, not at any time beforehand in the world, and now reduced -by the cost of our little one's illness and funeral; and, sir, in this -hard world we women, most times, have the best of it, for when the -house is full of sorrow, we have little else to do but weep, but the -men have to grieve and toil too. - -"But poor Richard could not hold up his head. He came back from work -that day pale and faint, and in the evening he had a chill and a -heat-fit, that let me know the fever which had killed our little one -had passed into him. The next day he could not leave his bed, and the -doctor (a most kind man, who was always making rough jokes in a rough -voice--just to hide his womanliness) said to me, 'If your husband goes -down to his master's chambers in the Temple to-day, he had better stop -at the coffin-maker's, in the corner of Chancery Lane, and leave his -measure.' But Richard's case was not one for a jest, and he rapidly -became worse than the doctor fancied he would be when he made that -light speech. He was ill for six weeks, and then began slowly to mend; -he got on so far as to sit up for two days for half-an-hour while he -had his tea, and we were hoping that soon he would be able to be moved -into the country--to my sister's, whose husband was an engineer at -Stratford; but, suddenly, he had a relapse, and on the morning that -finished the tenth week from his being seized, his arms let go their -hold on my neck--and I was left alone! - -"All during my babe's and Richard's long illness my sister Martha had -behaved like a true sister to me. She was my only sister, and, to the -best of my knowledge, the only relation I had in the world--and a good -one she was; from girl to woman her heart always rung out clear like a -bell. She had three young children, but even fear of contagion -reaching them could not keep her from me in my trouble. She kept -making the journey backwards and forwards, at least once a week, in -the carrier's cart; and, though she had no money to spare, she -brought me, with her husband's blessing, presents of wine, and -jellies, and delicate meat, to buy which, I knew right well, she and -her husband and her children must have pinched themselves down to -scanty rations of bread and water. Her hands helped mine to put the -flowers in poor Richard's coffin; she bore me up while I followed it, -pale and trembling, to the grave; and when that horrible day was -coming to an end, and she was about to return home, she took me into -her arms, and covering me with kisses and caressings, and a thousand -gentle sayings, as if I had been a child of her own, instead of her -sister and a grown woman, she made me promise to come down to her at -Stratford at the end of the week, and stay with her till God should -give me strength and spirits and guidance, to work for myself again. - -"But that promise was not kept. Next morning the rough-tender doctor -came in, out of his mere goodness, to give me a friendly look, and a -'God speed you,' and found me, too, sickening for an illness. I knew, -sir, he had made the discovery before his lips confessed a word; for -when he had taken my wrist and felt my pulse, and looked up into my -worn face, he turned pale, as if almost frightened, and such a look of -grief came on his eyes and lips that he could not have said plainer, -'My poor woman! my poor woman! what I feared from the beginning, and -prayed God not to permit, has come to pass at last.' - -"Then I fairly broke down and cried bitterly; and I told the doctor -how sore afflicted I was--how God had taken my husband and babe from -me--how all my little means had been consumed in the expenses of -nursing--how the little furniture in my rooms would not pay half what -I owed to honest folk--and how, even in my unspeakable wretchedness, I -could not ask the Almighty to take away my life, for I could not rest -in death if I left the world without paying my just debts. Well, sir, -the doctor sate down by me, and said, in his softest and simplest -way:-- - -"'Come, come, neighbour, don't you frighten yourself. Be calm, and -listen to me. Don't let the thought of debts worry you. What little I -have done in the way of business for your poor child and husband I -never wish to be paid for--so there's your greatest creditor disposed -of. As for the others, they won't trouble you, for I'll undertake to -see that none of them shall think that you have wronged 'em. I wish I -could do more, neighbor; but I ain't a rich man, and I have got a wife -and a regiment of little ones at home, who won't help, in the long -run, to make me richer--although I am sure they'll make me happier. -But now for yourself; you must go to the fever-hospital, to have your -illness out; the physician who'll take care of you there is the -cleverest in all London; and, as he is an old friend of mine, I can -ask him to pay especial attention to you. You'll find it a pleasant, -cheerful place, much more cool and comfortable than your rooms here; -the nurses are all of them good people; and while lying on your bed -there you won't have to fret yourself with thinking how you are to pay -for the doctors, and medicine, and kitchen physic.' - -"I was only too thankful to assent to all the doctor said; and -forthwith he fetched a coach, put me into it, and took me off to the -fever-hospital, to which his influence procured me instant -admittance. Without delay I was conveyed to a large and comfortable -bed, which, with another similar bed parallel to it, was placed -against the wall at the end of a long gallery, containing twenty other -beds. The first day of my hospital life I spent tranquilly enough; the -languor of extreme exhaustion had soothed me, and my malady had not -robbed me of my senses. So I lay calmly on my couch and watched all -the proceedings and arrangements of the great bed-room. I noticed how -clean and white all the beds looked, and what kindly women the nurses -were; I remarked what a wide space there was down the middle of the -room between the two rows of beds, and again what large intervals -there were between the beds on each side; I observed, too, that over -every bed there was a ventilator set in the wall, and beneath the -ventilator a board, on which was pinned a paper, bearing, in a -filled-up printed form, the number of the bed to which it belonged, -the date when the occupant was admitted to the ward, the names of the -physician and nurse under whose charge she was, the medicine she was -taking, and the diet on which she was put. It made me smile, moreover, -to note how the nurses, when giving physic or nourishment, or -otherwise attending to their charges, would frequently address them by -the numbers on their boards, instead of their names. - -"'Nurse, dear,' I asked, with a smile, when my attendant came near me, -'what's my name?' - -"'Oh, dear!' said she, looking up at the board which had already been -fixed over my head, 'your name is Number Eleven.' - -"It would be hard for me to give you, sir, any notion of how these -words, _Number Eleven_, took possession of my mind. This was the more -strange, because the nurse did not usually call me by them; for she -was a motherly creature, and almost always addressed me as 'poor -dear,' or 'poor child'; and the doctors who had the charge of me spoke -to me as 'friend,' or 'old friend,' or 'neighbor.' But all the same -for that, I always thought of myself as Number Eleven; and ere many -days, if any one had asked me what my name was, I could not for the -life of me have remembered Abigail Mallet, but should have answered -Number Eleven. The patient in the next bed to me was Number -Twenty-two; she was, like myself, a poor woman who had just lost a -husband and child by the fever, and both of us were much struck, and -then drawn to each other, by discovering how we had suffered alike. We -often interchanged a few words during the sorrowful hours of the long, -hot nights, but our whisperings always turned on the same subject. -'Number Eleven,' I used to hear her poor thin lips murmur, 'are you -thinking of your baby, dear?' 'To be sure, darling,' I would answer; -'I am awake, and when I am awake, I am always thinking of her.' Then -most times she would inquire, 'Number Eleven, dear, which do you think -of most--the little one or her father?' Whereto I would reply, 'I -think of both alike, dear, for whenever I look at her, a fair young -angel in heaven--she seems to be lying in her father's arms.' And -after we had conversed so, No. 22 would be quiet for a few minutes; -and often, in the silence of the night, I could at such times hear -that which informed me the poor woman was weeping to herself--in such -a way that she was happier for her tears. - -"But my malady progressed unfavourably. Each succeeding night was -worse to endure; and the morning light, instead of bringing -refreshment and hope, only gave to me a dull, gloomy consciousness -that I had passed hours in delirium, and that I was weaker and heavier -in heart, and more unlikely than ever to hold my head up again. They -cut all the hair off my head, and put blisters at the back of my neck; -but the awful weight of sorrow and the gnawing heat kept on my brain -all the same. I could no longer amuse myself with looking at what went -on in the ward; I lost all care for the poor woman who lay in the next -bed; and soon I tossed to and fro, and heeded nothing of the outer -world except the burning, and aching, and thirst, and sleeplessness -that encased me. - -"One morning I opened my eyes and saw the doctor standing between me -and No. 22, talking to the nurse. A fit of clearness passed over my -understanding, such as people suffering under fever often experience -for a few seconds, and I heard the physician say softly to the nurses, -'We must be careful and do our best, sister, and leave the rest to -God. They are both very ill; this is now the fourth day since either -of them recognized me. They must have more wine and brandy to help -them through. Here, give me their boards.' On this, the nurse took -down the boards, and handed them, one after the other, to the -physician, and he, taking a pen from a clerk, who always attended him, -wrote his directions on the papers, and handed them back to the nurse. -Having heard and seen all this, I shifted in my bed, and after a few -weak efforts to ponder on my terrible condition, and how awful a thing -it is to die, I fell back into my former state of delirium and -half-consciousness. - -"The next distinct memory I have of my illness was when I opened my -eyes and beheld a wooden screen standing between me and the next bed. -My head felt as if it had been put into a closely fitting cap of ice; -but apart from this strange sensation, I was free from pain. My body -was easy, and my mind was tranquil. My nurse was standing at the foot -of my bed, looking towards me with an expression of solemn tenderness; -and by her side was another woman--as I afterwards found out, a new -nurse, unaccustomed to the ways of the hospital. - -"'What is that screen there for?' asked the novice. - -"My nurse lowered her voice, and answered slowly, 'Number Eleven, poor -soul, is dying; she'll be dead in half an hour; and the screen is -there so that Number Twenty-Two mayn't see her.' - -"'Poor soul!' said the novice, 'may God have mercy upon her!' - -"They spoke scarcely above a whisper, but I heard them distinctly; and -a solemn gladness, such as I used to feel, when I was a young girl, at -the sound of church music, came over me at learning that I was to die. -Only half an hour, and I should be with baby and Richard in heaven! -Mixed with this thought, too, there was a pleasant memory of those I -had loved and who had loved me--of sister Martha and her husband and -children, of the doctor who had been so good to me and brought me to -the hospital, of my lady in India, of many others; and I silently -prayed the Almighty with my dying heart to protect and bless them. -Then passed through me a fluttering of strange, soft fancies, and it -was revealed to me that I was dead. - -"By-and-by the physician came his round of the ward, stepping lightly, -pausing at each bed, speaking softly to nurses and patients, and, -without knowing it, making many a poor woman entertain kinder thoughts -than she had ever meant to cherish of the wealthy and gentle. When he -came to the end of the ward, his handsome face wore a pitiful air, and -it was more by the movement of his lips than by the sound of his mouth -that I knew what passed from him to the nurse. - -"'Well, sister, well,' he said, 'she sleeps quietly at last. Poor -thing! I hope and believe the next life will be a fairer one for her -than this has been.' - -"'Her sister has been written to,' observed the nurse. - -"'Quite right; and how is the other?' - -"'Oh, No. 22 is just the same--quite still, not moving at all, -scarcely breathing, sir!' - -"'Um!--you must persevere. Possibly she'll pull through. Good-bye, -sister.' - -"Late in the evening my sister Martha came. She was dressed in black, -and led with her hand Rhoda, her eldest daughter. Poor Martha was very -pale, and worn, and ill; when she approached the bed on which I lay, -she seemed as if she would faint, and she trembled so painfully that -my kind nurse led her behind the screen, so that she might recover -herself out of my sight. After a few seconds--say two minutes--she -stood again at the foot of my bed--calmer, but with tears in her eyes, -and such a mournful loveliness in her sweet face as I had never seen -before. - -"'I shouldn't have known her, nurse,' she said, gazing at me for a -short space and then withdrawing her eyes--'she is so much altered.' - -"'Ah, dear!' answered the nurse, 'sickness alters people much--and -death more.' - -"'I know it, nurse--I know it. And she looks very calm and -blissful--her face is so full of rest--so full of rest!' - -"The nurse fetched some seats, and made Martha and Rhoda sit down side -by side; and then the good woman stood by them, ready to afford them -all comfort in her power. - -"'How did she bear her illness?' inquired Martha. - -"'Like an angel, dear,' answered the nurse. 'She had a sweet, -grateful, loving temper. Whatever I did for her, even though my duty -compelled me to give her pain, she was never fretful, but always -concealed her anguish and said, "Thank you, dear, thank you, you are -very good; God will reward you for all your goodness"; and as the end -came nigher I often fancied that she had reasonable and happy moments, -for she would fold her hands together, and say scraps of prayers which -children are taught.' - -"'Nurse,' replied my sister after a pause, 'she and I were the only -children of our father, and we were left orphans very young. She was -two years older than I, and she always thought for me and did for me -as if she had been my mother. I could fill whole hours with telling -you all the goodness and forbearance and love she displayed to me, -from the time I was little or no bigger than my child here. I was -often wayward and peevish, and gave her many hours of trouble, but -though at times she could be hot to others she never spoke an unkind -word to me. There was no sacrifice that she would not have made for -me; but all the return I ever made was to worry her with my evil -jealous temper. I was continually imagining unchristian things against -her: that she slighted me; that, because she had a mistress who made -much of her, she didn't care for me; that she didn't think my children -fit to be proud of. And I couldn't keep all these foolish thoughts in -my head to myself, but I must needs go and speak them out to her, and -irritate her to quarrel with me. But she always returned smooth words -to my angry ones, and I had never a fit of my unjust temper but she -charmed me out of it, and showed me my error in such a way that I was -reproved, without too much humiliation, and loved her more than ever. -Oh! dear friend, dear good nurse, if you have a sister, don't treat -her, as I did Abigail, with suspicion and wicked passion; for should -you, all the light speeches of your frowardness will return to you, -and lie heavy on your heart when hers shall beat no more.' - -"When Martha had said this she cried very bitterly; and as I lay dead -on my bed, and listened to her unfair self-reproaches, I longed to -break the icy bonds that held me, and yearned to clasp her to my -breast. Still, though I could neither move nor utter a sound, it -thrilled me with gladness to see how she loved me. - -"'Mother,' said little Rhoda, softly, 'don't cry. We shan't be long -away from Aunt and her baby, for when this life is done we shall go -to them. You know, mother, you told me so last night.' - -"It was not permitted to me to hear any more. A colder chill came over -my brain--and, wrapt in unconsciousness and deep stillness, I lay upon -my bed. - -"My next recollection is of beholding the gray dawn stream in through -the half-opened windows, and of wondering, amid vague reminiscences of -my previous sensations, how it was that a dead person could take -notice of the world it moved in when alive. It is not enough to say -that my experience of the last repose was pleasant to me; I was -rejoiced and greatly delighted by it. Death, it seemed then, was no -state of cold decay for men to shudder at with affright--but a -condition of tranquility and mental comfort. I continued to muse on -this remarkable discovery for an hour and more, when my favourite -nurse reappeared to relieve the woman who had taken the night-watch, -and approached me. - -"'Ah!' she surprised me by saying, as a smile of congratulation -lighted her face, 'then you are alive this morning, dear, and have -your handsome eyes wide open.' - -"This in my opinion was a singularly strange and inappropriate -address; but I made no attempt to respond to it, for I knew that I was -dead. and that the dead do not speak. - -"'Why, dear heart,' resumed the nurse, kneeling by my side and kissing -me, 'can't you find your tongue? I know by your eyes that you know me; -the glassy stare has left them. Come, do say a word, and say you are -better.' - -"Then a suspicion flashed across my brain, and raising my right hand -slightly, I pointed to the bed of No. 22, and asked, 'How is she?--how -is she?' - -"'Don't frighten yourself, dear,' answered the nurse, 'she isn't -there. She has been moved. She doesn't have that bed my longer!' - -"'Then it is _she_ who is dead, nurse; and all the rest was a dream? -It is she who is dead?' - -"'Hush, hush, dear! she has gone to rest--' - -"Yes! it was all clear to me. Not I but my unfortunate companion had -died; and in my delirious fancy I had regarded the friends who came to -see her, and convey her to the grave, as my sister Martha and her -little daughter Rhoda. I did not impart to the nurse the delusion of -which I had been the victim; for, as is often the case with the sick, -I was sensitive with regard to the extreme mental sickness into which -I had fallen, and the vagaries of my reason. So I kept my secret to -the best of my power; and having recognised how much better I was, how -the fever had quitted my veins and the weight had left my head, I -thanked God in my heart for all his mercies, and once more cherished a -hope that he might see fit to restore me to health. - -"My recovery was rapid. At the end of a fortnight I was moved into the -convalescents' ward, and was fed up with wine and meat in abundance. I -had every reason to be thankful for all the kindness bestowed on me in -the hospital, and all the good effect God permitted that kindness to -have. But one thing troubled me very much and cut me to the quick. -Ever since I had been in the hospital my sister had neither been to -see me, nor sent to inquire after me. It was no very difficult -business to account for her neglect of me. She had her good qualities -(even in the height of my anger I could not deny that), but she was of -a very proud high temper. She could sacrifice anything but her pride -for love of me. I had gone into an hospital, had received public -charity, and she hadn't courage to acknowledge a sister who had sunk -so low as that! But if she was proud so was I; I could be as high and -haughty as she; and, what was more, I would show her that I could be -so! What, to leave her own sister--her only sister--who had worked for -her when she was little, and who had loved her as her own heart! I -would resent it! Perhaps fortune might yet have a turn to make in my -favour; and if so I would in my prosperity remember how I had been -treated in my adversity. I am filled with shame now, when I think on -the revengeful imaginations which followed each other through my -breast. I am thankful that when my animosity was at its height my -sister did not present herself before me; for had she done so, I fear -that, without waiting for an explanation from her, I should have -spoken hasty words that (however much I might have afterwards repented -them, and she forgiven them) would have rendered it impossible for us -to be again the same as we were before. I never mentioned to any -one--nurse or patient--in the convalescent ward, the secret of my -clouded brows, or let out that I had a friend in the world to think of -me or to neglect me. Hour after hour I listened to women and girls and -young children, talking of home pleasures and longing to be quite -well, and dismissed from the confinement of the hospital, and -anticipating the pleasure which their husbands, or mothers, or -sisters, or children, would express at welcoming them again; but I -never gave a word of such gossip; I only hearkened, and compared their -hopes with my desolation, morosely and vindictively. Before I was -declared perfectly restored I got very tired of my imprisonment; -indeed the whole time I was in the convalescent ward my life was -wearisome, and without any of the pleasures which the first days of my -sickness had had. There was only one inmate of the ward to which I was -at first admitted, as yet, amongst the convalescents; none of them -knew me, unless it was by my number--a new one now, for on changing my -ward I had changed my number also. The nurses I didn't like so well as -my first kind attendant; and I couldn't feel charitably, or in any way -as a Christian ought to feel, to the poor people by whom I was -surrounded. - -"At length the day came for my discharge. The matron inquired of me -where I was going; but I would not tell her; I would not acknowledge -that I had a sister--partly out of mere perverseness, and partly out -of an angry sense of honour; for I was a country-bred woman, and -attached to the thought of 'going into a hospital' a certain idea of -shame and degradation, such as country people attach to 'going on the -parish', and I was too proud to let folk know that my sister had a -sister in an hospital, when she clearly flinched from having as much -said of her. - -"Well, finding I was not in a communicative humour, the matron asked -no more questions; but, giving me a bundle containing a few articles -of wearing apparel, and a small donation of money, bade me farewell; -and without saying half as much in the way of gratitude as I ought to -have said, I walked out from the hospital garden into the wide streets -of London. I did not go straight to my old lodgings, or to the house -of the doctor who had been so kind to me; but I directed my steps to -an inn in Holborn, and took a place in the stage-cart for Stratford. -As I rode slowly to my sister's town I thought within myself how I -should treat her. Somehow my heart had softened a great deal towards -her during the few last days; a good spirit within me had set me -thinking of how she had helped me to nurse my husband and baby--how -she had accompanied me when I followed them to their graves--how she -and her husband had sacrificed themselves so much to assist me in my -trial; and the recollection of these kindnesses and proofs of sisterly -love, I am thankful to know, made me judge Martha much less harshly. -Yes! yes! I would forgive her! She had never offended me before! She -had not wronged me seven times, or seventy times seven, but only -_once_! After all, how much she had done for me! Who was I, that I -should forget all that she had done, and judge her only by what she -had left undone? - -"The stage-cart reached Stratford as the afternoon began to close into -evening; and when I alighted from it, I started off at a brisk pace, -and walked to my sister's cottage that stood on the outskirts of the -town. Strange to say, as I got nearer and nearer to her door my angry -feelings became fainter and fainter, and all my loving memories of her -strong affection for me worked so in me that my knees trembled beneath -me, and my eyes were blinded with tears--though, if I had trusted my -deceitful, wicked, malicious tongue to speak, I should still have -declared she was a bad, heartless, worthless, sister. - -"I reached the threshold, and paused on the step before it, just to -get my breath and to collect as much courage and presence of mind as -would let Martha know that, though I forgave her, I still was fully -aware she might have acted more nobly. When I knocked, after a few -seconds, little Rhoda's steps pattered down the passage, and opened -the door. Why, the child was in black! What did that mean? Had -anything happened to Martha or her husband, or little Tommy? But -before I could put the question Rhoda turned deadly white, and ran -back into the living-room. In another instant I heard Tommy screaming -at the top of his voice; and in a trice I was in the room, with -Martha's arms flung round my neck, and her dear blessed eyes covering -me with tears. - -"She was very ill in appearance; white and haggard, and, like Rhoda -and Tommy, she too was dressed in black. For some minutes she could -not speak a word for sobbing hysterically; but when at last I had -quieted her and kissed Rhoda, and cossetted Tommy till he had left off -screaming, I learnt that the mourning Martha and her children wore was -in my honour. Sure enough Martha had received a notice from the -hospital of my death; and she and Rhoda had not only presented -themselves at the hospital, and seen there a dead body which they -believed to be mine, but they had also, with considerable expense, and -much more loving care, had it interred in the Stratford churchyard, -under the impression that in so doing they were offering me the last -respect which it would be in their power to render me. The worst of -it was that poor Martha had pined and sorrowed so for me that she -seemed likely to fall into some severe illness. - -"On inquiry it appeared that the morning when I and No. 22 were so -much worse, and the doctor altered the directions of our boards, the -nurse by mistake put the No. 22 board over my bed, and my board (No. -11) over the bed of the poor woman who had died. The consequence was -that, when the hospital clerk was informed that No. 11 had died, he -wrote to the doctor who placed me in the hospital, informing him of my -death, and the doctor communicated the sad intelligence to my sister. - -"The rest of the story you can fill up, sir, for yourself, and without -my assistance you can imagine how it was that, while in a state of -extreme exhaustion, and deeming myself dead, I heard my sister, in a -strong agony of sorrow and self-reproach, say to my nurse, 'Oh, dear -friend--dear good nurse--if you have a sister, don't treat her, as I -did Abigail, with suspicion and wicked passion; for should you, all -the light speeches of your frowardness will return to you, and lie -heavy on your heart when hers shall beat no more.'" - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI. - -MEDICAL BUILDINGS. - - -The medical buildings of London are seldom or never visited by the -sight-seers of the metropolis. Though the science and art of nursing -have recently been made sources of amusement to the patrons of -circulating libraries, the good sense and delicacy of the age are -against converting the wards of an hospital into galleries for public -amusement. In the last century the reverse was the case. Fashionable -idlers were not indeed anxious to pry into the mysteries of -Bartholomew's, Guy's, and St. Thomas's hospitals; for a visit to those -magnificent institutions was associated in their minds with a risk of -catching fevers or the disfiguring small-pox. But Bethlehem, devoted -to the entertainment and cure of the insane, was a favourite haunt -with all classes. "Pepys," "The London Spy," "The Tatler," and "The -Rake's Progress," give us vivid pictures of a noisy rout of Pall Mall -beaus and belles, country fly-catchers, and London scamps, passing up -and down the corridors of the great asylum, mocking its unhappy -inmates with brutal jests, or investigating and gossiping about their -delusions and extravagances with unfeeling curiosity. Samuel Johnson -enlivened himself with an occasional stroll amongst the lunatics, just -as he periodically indulged himself with witnessing a hanging, a -judicial flogging, or any other of the pleasant spectacles with which -Hogarth's London abounded. Boswell and he once strolled through the -mansions of the insane; and on another occasion, when he visited the -same abode with Murphy, Foote, and Wedderburne (afterwards Lord -Loughborough), the philosopher's "attention was arrested by a man who -was very furious, and who, while beating his straw, supposed it was -William, Duke of Cumberland, whom he was punishing for his cruelties -in Scotland in 1746." Steele, when he took three schoolboys (imagine -the glee of Sir Richard's schoolboy friends out with him for a frolic) -in a hackney coach to show them the town, paid his respects to "the -lions, the tombs, Bedlam, and the other places, which are -entertainments to raw minds because they strike forcibly on the -fancy." In the same way Pepys "stept into Bedlam, and saw several poor -miserable creatures in chains, one of whom was _mad with making -verses_," a form of mental aberration not uncommon in these days, -though we do not deem it necessary to consign the victims of it to -medical guardianship. - -The original Bethlehem hospital was established by Henry VIII., in a -religious house that had been founded in 1246, by Simon Fitz-Mary, -Sheriff of London, as an ecclesiastical body. The house was situated -at Charing-cross, and very soon the king began to find it (when used -for the reception of lunatics) disagreeably near his own residence. -The asylum was therefore removed, at a "cost nigh L17,000," to -Bishopgate Without, where it remained till 1814, and the inmates were -removed to the present noble hospital in St. George's Fields, the -first stone of which was laid April 18th, 1812. - -One of the regulations of old Bedlam has long since been disused. The -harmless lunatics were allowed to roam about the country with a tin -badge--the star of St. Bethlehem--on the right arm. Tenderness towards -those to whom the Almighty has denied reason is a sentiment not -confined to the East. Wherever these poor creatures went they received -alms and kindly entreatment. The ensign on the right arm announced to -the world their lamentable condition and their need of help, and the -appeal was always mercifully responded to. Aubrey thus describes their -appearance and condition:-- - -"Till the breaking out of the Civil Wars Tom o' Bedlams did travel -about the country. They had been poor distracted men, but had been put -into Bedlam, where recovering some soberness, they were licentiated to -go a-begging, _i. e._ they had on their left arm an armilla of tin, -about four inches long; they could not get it off. They wore about -their necks a great horn of an ox in a string of baudry, which, when -they came to an house for alms, they did wind, and they did put the -drink given them into this horn, whereto they did put the stopple. -Since the wars I do not remember to have seen any one of them." - -The custom, however, continued long after the termination of the Civil -War. It is not now the humane practice to label our fools, so that -society may at once recognise them and entertain them with kindness. -They still go at large in our public ways. Facilities are even given -them for effecting an entrance into the learned professions. -Frequently they are docketed with titles of respect, and decked with -the robes of office. But however gratifying this plan may be to their -personal vanity it is not unattended with cruelty. Having about them -no external mark of their sad condition, they are often, through -carelessness and misapprehension--not through hardness of -heart--chastised with undue severity. "Poor Tom, thy horn is dry," -says Edgar, in "Lear." Never may the horn of mercy be dry to such poor -wretches! - -It is needless to say that Easter holiday-makers are no longer -permitted in swarms, on the payment of two-pence each, to race through -the St. Bethlehem galleries, insulting with their ribaldry the most -pitiable of God's afflicted creatures. A useful lesson, however, is -taught to the few strangers who still, as merely curious observers, -obtain admission for a few minutes within the walls of the asylum--a -lesson conveyed, not by the sufferings of the patients, so much as by -the gentle discipline, the numerous means of innocent amusement, and -the air of quiet contentment, which are the characteristics of a -well-managed hospital for the insane. - -Not less instructive would it be for many who now know of them only -through begging circulars and charity dinners, to inspect the -well-ventilated, cleanly--and it may be added, _cheerful_--dwellings -of the impoverished sick of London. The principal hospitals of the -capital, those, namely, to which medical schools are attached, are -eleven in number--St. George's, the London (at Mile End), University -College, King's, St. Mary's, Westminster, Middlesex, and -Charing-cross, are for the most part dependent on voluntary -contributions for support, the Westminster Hospital (instituted 1719) -being the first hospital established in this kingdom on the voluntary -system. The three other hospitals of the eleven have large endowments, -Bartholomew's and Guy's being amongst the wealthiest benevolent -foundations of the country. - -Like Bethlehem, St. Thomas's Hospital was originally a religious -house. At the dissolution of the monasteries it was purchased by the -citizens of London, and, in the year 1552, was opened as an hospital -for the sick. At the commencement of the last century it was rebuilt -by public subscription, three wards being erected at the cost of -Thomas Frederick, and three by Guy, the founder of Guy's Hospital. - -The first place of precedency amongst the London Hospitals is -contended for by St. Bartholomew's and Guy's. They are both alike -important by their wealth, the number of patients entertained within -their walls, and the celebrity of the surgeons and physicians with -whom their schools have enriched the medical profession; but the -former, in respect of antiquity, has superior claims to respect. -Readers require no introduction to the founder of Bartholomew's, for -only lately Dr. Doran, in his "Court Fools," gave a sketch of -Rahere--the minstrel and jester, who spent his prime in the follies -and vices of courts, and his riper years in the sacred offices of the -religious vocation. He began life a buffoon, and ended it a -prior--presiding over the establishment to the creation of which he -devoted the wealth earned by his abused wit. The monk chronicler says -of him: "When he attained the flower of youth he began to haunt the -households of noblemen and the palaces of princes; where, under every -elbow of them, he spread their cushions with apeings and flatterings, -delectably anointing their eyes--by this manner to draw to him their -friendships. And yet he was not content with this, but often haunted -the king's palace; and, among the press of that tumultuous court, -enforced himself with jollity and carnal suavity, by the which he -might draw to him the hearts of many one." But the gay adventurer -found that the ways of mirth were far from those of true gladness; -and, forsaking quips, and jeers, and wanton ditties for deeds of -mercy, and prayer, and songs of praise, he long was an ensample unto -men of holy living; and "after the years of his prelacy (twenty-two -years and six months), the 20th day of September (A. D. 1143), the -clay-house of this world forsook, and the house everlasting entered." - -In the church of St. Bartholomew may still be seen the tomb of Dr. -Francis Anthony, who, in spite of the prosecutions of the College of -Physicians, enjoyed a large practice, and lived in pomp in Bartholomew -Close, where he died in 1623. The merits of his celebrated nostrum, -the _aurum potabile_, to which Boyle gave a reluctant and qualified -approval, are alluded to in the inscription commemorating his -services:-- - - "There needs no verse to beautify thy praise, - Or keep in memory thy spotless name. - Religion, virtue, and thy skill did raise - A three-fold pillar to thy lasting fame. - - Though poisonous envy ever sought to blame - Or hide the fruits of thy intention, - Yet shall all they commend that high design - Of purest gold to make a medicine, - That feel thy help by that thy rare invention." - -Boyle's testimony to the good results of the _aurum potabile_ is -interesting, as his philosophic mind formed a decided opinion on the -efficacy of the preparation by observing its operation in _two_ -cases--persons of great note. "Though," he says, "I have long been -prejudiced against the _aurum potabile_, and other boasted -preparations of gold, for most of which I have no great esteem, yet I -saw such extraordinary and surprising effects from the tincture of -gold I spake of (prepared by two foreign physicians) upon persons of -great note, with whom I was particularly acquainted, both before they -fell sick and after their dangerous recovery, that I could not but -change my opinion for a very favourable one as to some preparations of -gold." - -Attached to his priory of St. Bartholomew's, Rahere founded an -hospital for the relief of poor and sick persons, out of which has -grown the present institution, over the principal gateway of which -stands, burly and with legs apart--like a big butcher watching his -meat-stall--an effigy of Henry VIII. Another of the art treasures of -the hospital is the staircase painted by Hogarth. - -If an hospital could speak it could tell strange tales--of misery -slowly wrought, ambition foiled, and fair promise ending in shame. -Many a toilworn veteran has entered the wards of St. Bartholomew's to -die in the very couch by the side of which in his youth he daily -passed--a careless student, joyous with the spring of life, and -little thinking of the storm and unkind winds rising up behind the -smiles of the nearer future. Scholars of gentle birth, brave soldiers -of proud lineage, patient women whose girlhood, spent in luxury and -refinement, has been followed by penury, evil entreatment, and -destitution, find their way to our hospitals--to pass from a world of -grief to one where sorrow is not. It is not once in awhile, but daily, -that a physician of any large charitable institution of London reads a -pathetic tale of struggle and defeat, of honest effort and bitter -failure, of slow descent from grade to grade of misfortune--in the -tranquil dignity, the mild enduring quiet, and noiseless gratitude of -poor sufferers--gentle once in fortune, gentle still in nature. One -hears unpleasant stories of medical students, their gross dissipations -and coarse manners. Possibly these stories have their foundation in -fact, but at best they are broad and unjust caricatures. This writer -in his youth lived much amongst the students of our hospitals, as he -did also amongst those of our old universities, and he found them -simple and manly in their lives, zealous in the pursuit of knowledge, -animated by _a professional esprit_ of the best sort, earnestly -believing in the dignity of their calling, and characterised by a -singular ever-lively compassion for all classes of the desolate and -distressed. And this quality of mercy, which unquestionably adorns in -an eminent degree the youth of our medical schools, he has always -regarded as a happy consequence of their education, making them -acquainted, in the most practical and affecting manner, with the sad -vicissitudes of human existence. - -Guy's hospital was the benevolent work of a London bookseller, who, by -perseverance, economy, and lucky speculation, amassed a very large -fortune. Thomas Guy began life with a stock of about L200, as a -stationery and bookseller in a little corner house between Cornhill -and Lombard-st., taking out his freedom of the Stationers' Company in -1668. He was a thrifty tradesman, but he won his wealth rather by -stock-jobbing than by the sale of books, although he made important -sums by his contract with the University of Oxford for their privilege -of printing bibles. Maitland informs us, "England being engaged in an -expensive war against France, the poor seamen on board the royal navy, -for many years, instead of money received tickets for their pay, which -those necessitous but very useful men were obliged to dispose of at -thirty, forty, and sometimes fifty in the hundred discount. Mr. Guy, -discovering the sweets of this traffick, became an early dealer -therein, as well as in other government securities, by which, and his -trade, he acquired a very great estate." In the South-sea stock he was -not less lucky. He bought largely at the outset, held on till the -bubble reached its full size, and ere the final burst sold out. It may -be questioned whether Guy's or Rahere's money was earned the more -honourably,--whether to fawn, flatter, and jest at the table of -princes was a meaner course of exertion than to drive a usurious trade -with poor sailors, and fatten on a stupendous national calamity. But -however basely it may have been gathered together, Guy's wealth was -well expended, in alleviating the miseries of the same classes from -whose sufferings it had been principally extracted. In his old age -Guy set about building his hospital, and ere his death, in 1724, saw -it completed. On its erection and endowment he expended L238,292 -16_s._ 5_d._ To his honour it must be stated that, notwithstanding -this expenditure and his munificent contributions to other charities, -he had a considerable residue of property, which he distributed -amongst his poor relations. - -Of the collegiate medical buildings of London, the one that belongs to -the humblest department of the profession is the oldest, and for that -reason--apart from its contents, which are comparatively of little -value--the most interesting. Apothecaries' Hall, in Water Lane, -Blackfriars, was built in 1670. Possibly the size and imposing aspect -of their college stimulated the drug-vendors to new encroachments on -the prescriptive and enacted rights of the physicians. The rancour of -"The Dispensary" passes over the merits (graces it has none) of the -structure, and designates it by mentioning its locality-- - - "Nigh where Fleet Ditch descends in sable streams, - To wash his sooty Naiads in the Thames, - There stands a structure on a rising hill, - Where tyros take their freedom out to kill." - -Amongst the art-treasures of the hall are a portrait of James I. (who -first established the apothecaries as a company distinct from the -grocers), and a bust of Delaune, the lucky apothecary of that -monarch's queen, who has already been mentioned in these pages. - -The elegant college of the physicians, in Pall Mall east, was not -taken into use till the 25th of June, 1825, the doctors migrating to -it from Warwick Hall, which is now in the occupation of the butchers -of Newgate Market. Had the predecessors of the present tenants been -"the surgeons," instead of "the physicians," the change of masters -would have given occasion for a joke. As it is, not even the -consolation of a jest can be extracted from the desecration of an -abode of learning that has many claims on our affection. - -In "The Dispensary," the proximity of the college dome to the Old -Bailey is playfully pointed at:-- - - "Not far from that most celebrated place, - Where angry justice shows her awful face, - Where little villains must submit to fate, - That great ones may enjoy the world in state, - There stands 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: - This pile was, by the pious patron's aim, - Raised for a use as noble as its frame. - Nor did the learn'd society decline - The propagation of that great design; - In all her mazes, Nature's face they view'd, - And, as she disappear'd, their search pursued. - Wrapt in the shade of night, the goddess lies, - Yet to the learn'd unveils her dark disguise, - But shuns the gross access of vulgar eyes." - -The Warwick Lane college was erected on the college at Amen Corner (to -which the physicians removed on quitting their original abode in -Knight-Rider Street), being burnt to the ground in the great fire of -1666. Charles II. and Sir John Cutler were ambitious of having their -names associated with the new edifice, the chief fault of which was -that, like all the other restorations following the memorable -conflagration, it was raised near the old site. Charles became its -pious patron, and Sir John Cutler its munificent benefactor. The -physicians duly thanked them, and honoured them with statues, Cutler's -effigy having inscribed beneath it, "Omnis Cutleri cedat labor -Amphitheatro." - -So far, so good. The fun of the affair remains to be told. On Sir -John's death, his executors, Lord Radnor and Mr. Boulter, demanded of -the college L7000, which covered in amount a sum the college had -borrowed of their deceased benefactor, and also the sum he pretended -to have given. Eventually the executors lowered their claim to L2000 -(which, it is reasonable to presume, had been _lent_ by Sir John), and -discontinued their demand for the L5000 given. Such being the stuff of -which Sir John was made, well might Pope exclaim:-- - - "His Grace's fate sage Cutler could foresee, - And well (he thought) advised him, 'Live like me.' - As well his Grace replied, 'Like you, Sir John? - That I can do when all I have is gone.'" - -In consideration of the L5000 retained of the niggard's money, the -physicians allowed his statue to remain, but they erased the -inscription from beneath it. - -The Royal College of Surgeons in London was not incorporated till the -year 1800--more than half a century after the final disruption of the -surgeons from the barbers--and the college in Lincoln's Inn Fields was -not erected till 1835. Its noble museum, based on the Hunterian -Collection, which the nation purchased for L15,000, contains, amongst -its treasures, a few preparations that are valuable for their -historical associations or sheer eccentricity, rather than for any -worth from a strictly scientific point of view. Amongst them are -Martin Van Buchell's first wife, whose embalmment by William Hunter -has already been mentioned; the intestines of Napoleon, showing the -progress of the disease which was eventually fatal to him; and the -fore-arms (preserved in spirits) of Thomas Beaufort, third son of John -of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster. - -The writer had recently submitted to his notice, by Dr. Diamond of -Twickenham, a very interesting and beautifully penned manuscript, -relating to these remains, of which the following is a copy:-- - - "BURY ST EDMUNDS. - - "_Joseph Pater scripsit, when thirteen years of age._ - -"On the 20th of February, 1772, some labourers, employed in breaking -up part of the old abbey church, discovered a leaden coffin, which -contained an embalmed body, as perfect and entire as at the time of -its death; the features and lineaments of the face were perfect, which -were covered with a mask of embalming materials. The very colour of -the eyes distinguishable; the hairs of the head a brown, intermixed -with some few gray ones; the nails fast upon the fingers and toes as -when living; stature of the body about six feet tall, and genteelly -formed. The labourers, for the sake of the lead (which they sold to Mr -Faye, a plummer, in this town, for about 15s), stript the body of its -coffin, and threw it promiscuously amongst the rubbish. From the place -of its interment it was soon found to be the remains of Thomas -Beaufort, third son of John de Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, by his third -duchess, Lady Catherine Swineford, relict of Sir Otho de Swineford, of -Lincolnshire. He took the name of Beaufort from the place of his -birth, a castle of the duke's, in France. He was half-brother to King -Henry IV., created Duke of Exeter and Knight of the Garter; in 1410, -Lord Chancellor of England; in 1412, High Admiral of England, and -Captain of Calais; he commanded the Rear-Guard of his nephew King -Henry the Fifth's army at the battle of Agincourt, on the 25th of -October, 1415; and in 1422, upon the death of King Henry the Fifth, -was jointly with his brother, Henry, Cardinal Bishop of Winchester, -appointed by the Parliament to the government, care, and education of -the royal infant, Henry the Sixth. He married Margaret, daughter of -Sir Thomas Nevil, by whom he had issue only one son, who died young. -He was a great benefactor to this church, died at East Greenwich, -1427, in the 5th year of King Henry ye Sixth, and was interred in this -Abbey, near his duchess (as he had by his will directed), at the -entrance of the Chapel of our Lady, close to the wall. On the 24th of -February following, the mangled remains were enclosed in an oak -coffin, and buried about eight feet deep, close to the north side of -the north-east pillar, which formerly assisted to support the Abbey -belfry. Before its re-interment, the body was mangled and cut with the -most savage barbarity by Thomas Gery Cullum, a young surgeon in this -town, lately appointed Bath King-at-Arms. The skull sawed in pieces, -where the brain appeared it seemed somewhat wasted, but perfectly -contained in its proper membranes; the body ript open from the neck to -the bottom, the cheek cut through by a saw entering at the mouth; his -arms chopped off below the elbows and taken away. One of the arms the -said Cullum confesses to have in spirits. The crucifix, supposed to be -a very valuable one, is missing. It is believed the body of the -duchess was found (within about a foot of the Duke's) on the 24th of -February. If she was buried in lead she was most likely conveyed away -clandestinely the same night. In this church several more of the -antient royal blood were interred, whose remains are daily expected to -share the same fate. Every sensible and humane mind reflects with -horror at the shocking and wanton inhumanity with which the princely -remains of the grandson of the victorious King Edward the Third have -been treated--worse than the body of a common malefactor, and 345 -years after his death. The truth of this paragraph having been -artfully suppressed, or very falsely represented in the county -newspapers, and the conveyance of public intelligence rendered -doubtful, no method could be taken to convey a true account to the -public but by this mode of offering it." - -The young surgeon whose conduct is here so warmly censured was the -younger son of a Suffolk baronet. On the death of his brother he -succeeded to the family estate and honours, and having no longer any -necessity to exert himself to earn money, relinquished medical -practice. He was born in 1741 and died in 1831. It is from him that -the present baronet, of Hawstead Place and Hardwicke House, in the -county of Suffolk, is descended. - -The fore-arms, now in the custody of the College of Surgeons, were for -a time separated. One of them was retained by Mr. Cullum, and the -other, becoming the property of some mute inglorious Barnum, was taken -about to all the fairs and wakes of the county, and exhibited as a -raree-show at a penny a peep. The vagrant member, however, came back -after a while to Mr. Cullum, and he presented both of the mutilated -pertions to their present possessors. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII. - -THE COUNTRY MEDICAL MAN. - - -The country doctor, such as we know him--a well-read and observant -man, skilful in his art, with a liberal love of science, and in every -respect a gentleman--is so recent a creation, that he may almost be -spoken of as a production of the present century. There still linger -in the provinces veteran representatives of the ignorance which, in -the middle of the last century, was the prevailing characteristic of -the rural apothecary. Even as late as 1816, the law required no -medical education in a practitioner of the healing art in country -districts, beyond an apprenticeship to an empiric, who frequently had -not information of any kind, beyond the rudest elements of a -druggist's learning, to impart to his pupils. Men who commenced -business under this system are still to be found in every English -county, though in most cases they endeavour to conceal their lack of -scientific culture under German or Scotch diplomas--bought for a few -pounds. - -Scattered over these pages are many anecdotes of provincial doctors in -the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, from which a truthful but -not complimentary picture of their order may be obtained. Indeed, they -were for the most part vulgar drunken knaves, with just learning -enough to impose on the foolish crowds who resorted to them. The most -brilliant of the fraternity in Henry the Eighth's reign was Andrew -Borde, a Winchester practitioner. This gentleman was author and -buffoon, as well as physician. He travelled about the country from -market to fair, and from fair to market, making comic orations to the -crowds who purchased his nostrums, singing songs, and enlivening the -proceedings when they were becoming dull with grimaces of -inexpressible drollery. It was said of Sir John Hill, - - "For physic and farces - His equal there scarce is; - His farces are physic, - His physic a farce is." - -Borde's physic doubtless was a farce; but if his wit resembled physic, -it did so, not (like Hill's) by making men sick, but by rousing their -spirits and bracing their nerves with good hearty laughter. Everywhere -he was known as "Merry Andrew," and his followers, when they mounted -the bank, were proud to receive the same title. - -Mr. H. Fleetwood Sheppard communicated in the year 1855, some amusing -anecdotes to "Notes and Queries" about the popular Dorsetshire -doctor--little Dr. Grey. Small but warlike, this gentleman, in the -reign of James the First, had a following of well-born roisterers that -enabled him to beard the High Sheriff at the assizes. He was always in -debt, but as he always carried a brandy-flask and a brace of loaded -pistols in his pocket or about his neck, he neither experienced the -mental harass of impecuniosity nor feared bailiffs. In the hour of -peril he blew a horn, which he wore suspended to his person, and the -gentlemen of his body-guard rallied round him, vowing they were his -"sons," and would die for him. Says the MS.--"This Doctor Grey was -once arreste by a pedler, who coming to his house knocked at ye dore -as yey (he being desirous of Hobedyes) useth to doe, and ye pedler -having gartars upon his armes, and points, &c., asked him whether he -did wante any points or gartars, &c., pedler like. Grey hereat began -to storme, and ye other tooke him by ye arme, and told him that he had -no neede be so angry, and holdinge him fast, told him y he had ye -kinge's proces for him, and showed him his warrant. 'Hast thou?' quoth -Grey, and stoode stil awhile; but at length, catchinge ye fellowe by -both ends of his collar before, held him fast, and _drawinge out a -great rundagger, brake his head in two or three places_." - -Again, Dr. Grey "came one day at ye assizes, wheare ye sheriffe had -some sixty men, and he wth his twenty sonnes, ye trustyest young -gentlemen and of ye best sort and rancke, came and drancke in -Dorchester before ye sheriffe, and bad who dare to touch him; _and so -after awhile blew his horn and came away_." On the same terms who -would not like to be a Dorsetshire physician? - -In 1569 (_vide_ "Roberts' History of the Southern Counties") Lyme had -no medical practitioner. And at the beginning of the seventeenth -century Sir Symonds D'Ewes was brought into the world at Coxden Hall, -near Axminster, by a female practitioner, who deformed him for life by -her clumsiness. Yet more, Mrs. D'Ewes set out with her infant for -London, when the babe, unable to bear the jolting of the carriage, -screamed itself into a violent illness, and had to be left behind at -Dorchester under the care of another doctress--Mrs. Margaret Waltham. -And two generations later, in 1665, the Rev. Giles Moore, of Essex, -had to send twenty-five miles for an ordinary medical man, who was -paid 12_s._ per visit, and the same distance for a physician, whose -fee was L1--a second physician, who came and stayed two days, being -paid L1 10_s._ - -Of the country doctors of the middle and close of the last century, -Dr. Slop is a fair specimen. They were a rude, vulgar, keen-witted set -of men, possessing much the same sort of intelligence, and disfigured -by the same kind of ignorance, as a country gentleman expects now to -find in his farrier. They had to do battle with the village nurses at -the best on equal terms, often at a disadvantage; masculine dignity -and superior medical erudition being in many districts of less account -than the force of old usage, and the sense of decorum that supported -the lady practitioners. Mrs. Shandy had an express provision in her -marriage settlement, securing her from the ignorance of country -doctors. Of course, in respect to learning and personal acquirements, -the rural practitioners, as a class, varied very much, in accordance -with the intelligence and culture of the district in which their days -were spent, with the class and character of their patients, and with -their own connections and original social condition. On his Yorkshire -living Sterne came in contact with a rought lot. The Whitworth Taylors -were captains and leaders of the army in which Dr. Slop was a -private. The original of the last-mentioned worthy was so ill-read -that he mistook Lithopaedii Senonensis Icon for the name of a -distinguished surgical authority, and, under this erroneous -impression, quoted Lithopaedus Senonensis with the extreme of gravity. - -This Lithopaedus Senonensis story is not without its companions. A -prescription, in which a physician ordered _extract, rad valer._, and -immediately under it, as an ingredient in the same mixture, a certain -quantity of _tinctura ejusdem_, sorely perplexed the poor apothecary -to who it was sent to be dispensed. _Tinctura ejusdem!_ What could it -be! _Ejusdem!_ In the whole pharmacopoeia such a drug was not named. -Nothing like it was to be found on any label in his shop. At his wits' -end, the poor fellow went out to a professional neighbour, and asked, -in an off-hand way, "How are you off for _Tinctura Ejusdem_? I am out -of it. So can you let me have a little of yours." The neighbour, who -was a sufficiently good classical scholar to have _idem_, _eadem_, -_idem_ at his tongue's end, lamented that he too was "out of the -article." and sympathizingly advised his _confrere_, without loss of -time, to apply for some at Apothecaries' Hall. What a delightful -blunder to make to a _friend_, of all the people in the world! The -apothecary must have been a dull as well as an unlettered fellow, or -he would have known the first great rule of his art--"When in -doubt--_Use water!_" A more awkward mistake still was that made by the -young dispenser, who, for the first time in his life, saw at the end -of a prescription the words _pro re nata_. What could they mean? _pro -re nata!_ What could _pro re nata_ have to do with a mixture sent to -a lady who had just presented her husband with an heir. With the aid -of a Latin Dictionary, the novice rendered _pro re nata_ "for the -thing born." Of course. Clearly the mixture was for the baby. And in a -trice the compound to be taken by an adult, as circumstances should -indicate a necessity for a dose, was sent off for the "little -stranger." - -May not mention here be made of thee, ancient friend of childhood, -Roland Trevor? The whole country round, for a circle of which the -diameter measured thirty fair miles, thou wert one of the most popular -doctors of East Anglia. Who rode better horses? Who was the bolder in -the hunt, or more joyous over the bottle? Cheery of voice, with hearty -laughter rolling from purple lips, what company thou wert to festive -squires! The grave some score years since closed over thee, when -ninety-six years had passed over thy head--covering it with silver -tresses, and robbing the eye of its pristine fire, and the lip of its -mirthful curl. The shop of a country apothecary had been thy only -_Alma Mater_; so, surely, it was no fault of thine if thy learning was -scanty. Still, in the pleasant vales of Loes and Wilford is told the -story of how, on being asked if thou wert a believer in _phrenology_, -thou didst answer with becoming gravity, "I never keep it, and I never -use it. But I think it highly probable that, given frequently and in -liberal doses, it would be very useful in certain cases of irregular -gout." - -Another memory arises of a country doctor of the old school. A huge, -burly, surly, churlish old fellow was Dr. Standish. He died in -extremely advanced age, having lived twenty-five years in the present -century. A ferocious radical, he was an object of considerable public -interest during the period of political excitement consequent on the -French Revolution. Tom Paine, the Thetford breeches-maker of whom the -world has heard a little, was his familiar friend and correspondent. -It was rumoured throughout the land that "government" had marked the -doctor out for destruction. - -"Thar sai," the humbler Suffolk farmers used to gossip amongst -themselves, "thar sai a picter-taikin chap hav guv his poortright to -the King. And Billy Pitt ha'sin it. And oold King Georgie ha' swaren -as how that sooner nor later he'll hav his hid" (_i. e._ head). - -The "upper ten" of Holmnook, and the upper ten-times-ten of the -distance round about Holmnook, held themselves aloof from such a -dangerous character. But the common folk believed in and admired him. -There was something of romance about a man whom George III. and Billy -Pitt were banded together to destroy. - -Standish was a man of few words. "Down with the bishops!" "Up with the -people!" were his stock sentiments. He never approached nearer poetry -than when (yellow being then the colour of the extreme liberal party -in his district) he swore "there worn't a flower in the who' o' -crashun warth lookin' at but a sunflower, for that was yallow, and a -big un." - -The man had no friends in Holmnook or the neighbourhood; but every -evening for fifty years he sate, in the parlour of the chief inn, -drinking brandy-and-water, and smoking a "churchwarden." His -wife--(his wooing must have been of a queer sort)--a quiet, -inoffensive little body, sometimes forgot she was but a woman, and -presumed to have an opinion of her own. On such occasions Standish -thrashed her soundly with a dog-whip. In consequence of one of these -castigations she ran away from her tyrant. Instead of pursuing her, -Dr. Standish merely inserted the following advertisement in the county -paper:-- - -"_Dr Standish to all whom it may concern._--Dr Standish's wife having -run away, he wants a housekeeper. Dr Standish doesn't want good looks -in a woman: but she must know how to hold her tongue and cook a plain -joint. He gives ten pounds. Mrs Standish needn't apply--she's too much -of a lady." - -But poor Mrs. Standish did apply, and, what is more, obtained the -situation. She and her lord never again had any quarrel that obtained -publicity; and so the affair ended more happily than in all -probability it would have done had Sir Creswell Creswell's court been -then in existence. Standish's practice lay principally amongst the -mechanics and little farmers of the neighborhood. Much of his time was -therefore spent in riding his two huge lumbering horses about the -country. In his old age he indulged himself in a gig (which, out of -respect to radical politics, he painted with a flaring yellow paint); -but, at the commencement of the present century, the by-roads of -Suffolk--now so good that a London brougham drawn by one horse can -with ease whisk over the worst of them at the rate of ten miles an -hour--were so bad that a doctor could not make an ordinary round on -them in a wheeled carriage. Even in the saddle he ran frequent risk -of being mired, unless his horse had an abundance of bone and pluck. - -Standish's mode of riding was characteristic of the man. Straight on -he went, at a lumbering six miles an hour trot--dash, dosh, -dush!--through the muddy roads, sitting loosely in his seat, heavy and -shapeless as a sack of potatoes, looking down at his brown corduroy -breeches and his mahogany top-boots (the toes of which pointed in -directly opposite directions), wearing a perpetual scowl on his brows, -and never either rising in his stirrups or fixing himself to the -saddle with his knees. Not a word would he speak to a living creature -in the way of civil greeting. - -"Doctor, good morning to you," an acquaintance would cry out; "'tis a -nice day!" - -"Ugh!" Standish would half grunt, half roar, trotting straight -on--dish, dosh, dush! - -"Stop, doctor, I am out of sorts, and want some physic," would be the -second form of address. - -"Then why the ---- ---- didn't you say so, instead of jawing about the -weather?" the urbane physician would say, checking his horse. - -Standish never turned out an inch for any wayfarer. Sullen and -overbearing, he rode straight on upon one side of the road; and, -however narrow the way might be, he never swerved a barley-corn from -his line for horse or rider, cart or carriage. Our dear friend Charley -Halifax gave him a smart lesson in good manners on this point. Charley -had brought a well-bred hackney, and a large fund of animal spirits, -down from Cambridge to a title for orders in mid-Suffolk. He had met -Standish in the cottages of some of his flock, and afterwards meeting -elsewhere, had greeted him, and had no greeting in return. It was not -long ere Charley learnt all about the clownish apothecary, and -speedily did he devise a scheme for humbling him. The next time he saw -Standish in the distance, trotting on towards him, Charley put his -heels to his horse, and charged the man of drugs at full gallop. -Standish came lumbering on, disdaining to look before him and -ascertain who was clattering along at such a pace. On arriving within -six feet of Standish's horse, Halifax fell back on his curb-rein, and -pulled up sharp. Astonished, but more sensible than his master, -Standish's horse (as Charley knew would be the case) suddenly came to -a dead stop, on which Standish rolled over its head into the muddy -highway. As he rolled over, he threw out a volley of oaths. "Ah, -doctor," cried Charley, good-humoredly, "I said I would make you speak -to me." Standish was six feet high, and a powerful man. For a few -moments, on recovering his legs, he looked as if he contemplated an -assault on the young parson. But he thought better of it; and, -climbing into his seat once more, trotted on, without another -word--dish, dosh, dush! The incident didn't tend to soften his -feelings toward the Established Church. - -The country doctor of the last century always went his rounds on -horseback booted and spurred. The state of the roads rendered any -other mode of travelling impracticable to men who had not only to use -the highways and coach-roads, but to make their way up bridle-paths, -and drifts, and lanes, to secluded farmsteads and outlying villages. -Even as late as the last generation, in Suffolk, where now people -drive to and fro at the rate of twelve miles an hour, a doctor (whom -the writer of these pages has reason to think of with affection) was -more than once mired, on a slightly-built blood horse, so effectually, -that he had to dismount ere the animal could be extricated; and this -happened in roads that at the present time are, in all seasons, firm -as a garden walk. - -Describing the appearance of a country doctor of this period, a writer -observes--"When first I saw him, it was on Frampton Green. I was -somewhat his junior in years, and had heard so much of him that I had -no small curiosity to see him. He was dressed in a blue coat and -yellow buttons, buckskins, well-polished jockey-boots, with handsome -silver spurs, and he carried a smart whip with a silver handle. His -hair, after the fashion, was done up in a club, and he wore a -broad-brimmed hat." Such was the appearance of Jenner, as he galloped -across the vale of Gloucester, visiting his patients. There is little -to remind us of such a personage as this in the statue in Trafalgar -Square, which is the slowly-offered tribute of our gratitude to Edward -Jenner for his imperishable services to mankind. The opposition that -Jenner met with in his labours to free our species from a hideous -malady that, destroying life and obliterating beauty, spared neither -the cottage nor the palace, is a subject on which it is painful to -reflect. The learned of his own profession and the vulgar of all ranks -combined to persecute and insult him; and when the merit of his -inestimable discovery was acknowledged by all intelligent persons, he -received from his country a remuneration that was little better than -total neglect. - -While acting as an apprentice to a country surgeon he first conceived -the possibility of checking the ravages of small-pox. A young servant -woman, who accidentally said that she was guarded from that disease by -having "had cow-pox," first apprized him that amongst the servants of -a rural population a belief existed that the virus from the diseased -cow, on being absorbed by the human system, was a preventive against -small-pox. From that time, till the ultimate success of his inquiries, -he never lost sight of the subject. - -The ridicule and misrepresentation to which he was subjected are at -this date more pleasant for us to laugh at than, at the time, they -were for him to bear. The ignorant populace of London was instructed -that people, on being vaccinated, ran great risks of being converted -into members of the bovine family. The appearance of hair covering the -whole body, of horns and a tail, followed in many cases the operation. -The condition of an unhappy child was pathetically described, who, -brutified by vaccine ichor, persisted in running on all-fours and -roaring like a bull. Dr. Woodville and Dr. Moseley opposed Jenner, the -latter with a violence that little became a scientific inquirer. -Numerous were the squibs and caricatures the controversy called forth. -Jenner was represented as riding on a cow--an animal certainly not -adapted to show the doctor ("booted and spurred" as we have just seen -him) off to the best advantage. Of Moseley the comic muse sung: - - "Oh, Moseley! thy book, nightly phantasies rousing, - Full oft makes me quake for my heart's dearest treasure; - For fancy, in dreams, oft presents them all browsing - On commons, just like little Nebuchadnezzar. - _There_, nibbling at thistle, stand Jem, Joe, and Mary, - On their foreheads, O horrible! crumpled horns bud: - There Tom with his tail, and poor William all hairy, - Reclined in a corner, are chewing the cud." - -If London was unjust to him, the wiseacres of Gloucestershire thought -that burning was his fit punishment. One dear old lady, whenever she -saw him leaving his house, used to run out and attack him with -indescribable vivacity. "So your book," cried this charming matron, in -genuine Gloucestershire dialect, "is out at last. Well! I can tell you -that there bean't a copy sold in our town, nor shan't neither, if I -can help it." On hearing, subsequent to the publication of the book (a -great offence to the old lady!), some rumours of vaccination failures, -the same goodie bustled up to the doctor and cried, with galling -irony, "Shan't us have a general inoculation now?" - -But Jenner was compensated for this worthy woman's opposition in the -enthusiastic support of Rowland Hill, who not only advocated -vaccination in his ordinary conversation, but from the pulpit used to -say, after his sermon to his congregation, wherever he preached, "I am -ready to vaccinate to-morrow morning as many children as you choose; -and if you wish them to escape that horrid disease, the small-pox, you -will bring them." A Vaccine Board was also established at the Surrey -Chapel--_i. e._ the Octagon Chapel, in Blackfriars Road. - -"My Lord," said Rowland Hill once to a nobleman, "allow me to present -to your Lordship my friend, Dr. Jenner, who has been the means of -saving more lives than any other man." - -"Ah!" observed Jenner, "would that I, like you, could say--souls." - -There was no cant in this. Jenner was a simple, unaffected, and devout -man. His last words were, "I do not marvel that men are grateful to -me, but I am surprised that they do not feel gratitude to God for -making me a medium of good." - -Of Jenner's more sprightly humour, the following epigrams from his pen -(communicated to the writer of these pages by Dr. E. D. Moore of -Salop), are good specimens. - - - "TO MY SPANISH CIGAR. - - "Soother of an anxious hour! - Parent of a thousand pleasures! - With gratitude I owe thy power - And place thee 'mongst my choicest treasures. - Thou canst the keenest pangs disarm - Which care obtrudes upon the heart; - At thy command, my little charm, - Quick from the bosom they depart." - - - "ON THE DEATH OF JOHN AND BETTY COLE. - - "Why, neighbours, thus mournfully sorrow and fret? - Here lie snug and cosy old John and his Bet; - Your sighing and sobbing ungodly and rash is, - For two knobs of coal that have now gone to ashes." - - -"ON MISS JENNER AND MISS EMILY WORTHINGTON TEARING THE "GLOBE" - NEWSPAPER. - - "The greatest curse that hath a name - Most certainly from woman came. - Two of the sex the other night-- - Well arm'd with talons, venom, spite,-- - Pull'd caps, you say?--a great wonder! - By Jove, they pull'd the globe asunder!" - -Dr. Jenner was very fond of scribbling _currente calamo_ such verses -as these. The following specimens of his literary prowess have, we -believe, never before been published. - - HANNAH BALL.--A SONG. - - "Farewell, ye dear lasses of town and of city, - Sweet ladies, adieu to you all! - Don't show a frown, though I tune up a ditty - In praise of fair Hannah Ball. - - "T'other eve, as I rambled her snug cottage by, - Sly Cupid determined my fall, - The rogue, 'stead of darts, shot the beams of her eye, - The eye of my fair Hannah Ball. - - "So sweetly she look'd, when attired so fine, - In her Dunstable hat and her shawl, - Enraptured I cried--''Tis a Goddess divine.' - 'No indeed'--she replied--'Hannah Ball.' - - "The bosom of Delia, tho' whiter than snow, - Is no more than black velvet pall-- - Compared with my Hannah's--I'd have you to know-- - The bosom of fair Hannah Ball. - - "The honey the bee from her jessamine sips - You'd swear was as bitter as gall, - Could you taste but the sweets that exhale from the lips, - From the lips of the fair Hannah Ball. - - "What's rouge, or carmine, or the blush of the rose? - Why, dead as the lime on the wall, - Compared with the delicate colour that glows - On the cheek of my fair Hannah Ball. - - "When David melodiously play'd to appease - The troubled emotions of Saul, - Were his sounds more enchanting--ah, tell me, than these? - 'Hannah Ball, oh! the fair Hannah Ball.' - - "Near yonder fair copse as I pensively rove - In an eve, when the dews 'gin to fall; - To my sighs how kind echo responds from the grove-- - 'Hannah Ball, oh! the fair Hannah Ball.' - - "With graces so winning see Rossi advance - But what's all his grace?--Why a sprawl-- - With my Hannah compared, as she skims through the dance-- - The lovely, the fair Hannah Ball. - - "The song of the Mara--tho' great is her skill, - Believe me's no more than a squall, - Compared with the rapturous magical trill - Of my charming, my fair Hannah Ball. - - "For oft in the meads at the close of the day, - Near yon murmuring rivulet's fall, - Have I heard the soft nightingale's soul-piercing lay, - And thought 'twas my fair Hannah Ball. - - "To her eyes in Love's language I've told a soft tale, - But, alas! they replied not at all; - Yet bashfulness oft will our passions conceal; - Oh! the modest, the fair Hannah Ball. - - "Ye Gods! would you make the dear creature my wife, - With thanks would I bow to you all; - How smoothly would then run the wheels of my life, - With my charming, my fair Hannah Ball. - - "But should my petition be flung from the skies, - I'll take the bare bodkin or awl; - Yes! the cold seal of Death shall be fix'd on my eyes,-- - What's Life without fair Hannah Ball." - -This is a happy little satire on a vilage scandal. The Methodist -parson and Roger were amongst the doctor's rustic neighbours. - - On a quarrel between Butler, the Methodist parson of - Frampton, and Roger his clerk. Butler accused the clerk of - stealing his liquors, and the clerk accused Butler of - stealing his bacon. - - "Quoth good parson Butler to Rogers his clerk, - 'How things come to light that are done in the dark! - My wine is all pilfer'd,--a sad piece of work,-- - But a word with thee, Richard--I see thou'rt no Turk.' - - "'What evil befall us!'--quoth Dick in reply, - Whilst contempt methodistical glanced from his eye,-- - 'My bacon's slipt off too--alas, sir! 'tis true, - And the fact seems to whisper that--you are no Jew.'" - -The most daring of Jenner's epigrams, out of the scores that we have -perused, is the following-- - - - ON READING ADAM SMITH. - - "The priests may exclaim against cursing and swearing, - And tell us such things are quite beyond bearing; - But 'tis clear as the day their denouncing's a sham; - For a thousand good things may be learnt from _Adam_." - -Babbage, in his "Decline of Science in England," has remarked that -"some of the most valuable names which adorn the history of English -science have been connected with this (the medical) profession." Of -those names many have belonged to country doctors; amongst which -Jenner has a conspicuous place.[22] - - [22] Medical readers will be amused with the following letter, written - by Dr. Jenner, showing as it does the excess of caution with which he - prepared his patients for the trifling operation of vaccination. - - "Sir, - - "I was absent from home when your obliging letter of the - 24th November arrived; but I do not think this is likely to - occur again for some time, and I shall therefore be very - happy to take your little family under my care at the time - you mention--the latter end of January. Our arrangements - must be carefully made, as the children must be met here by - proper subjects for transferring the Vaccine Lymph; for on - the accuracy of this part of the process much depends. It - may be necessary to observe also, that among the greatest - impediments to vaccination (indeed the greatest) is an - eruptive state of the skin on the child intended to receive - the infection. On this subject I wrote a paper so long ago - as the year 1804, and took much pains to circulate it; but I - am sorry to say the attention that has been paid to it by - the Faculty in general has been by no means equal to its - importance. This is a rock on which vaccination has been - often wreck'd; but there is no excuse, as it was so clearly - laid down in the chart. - - "I am, Sir, your obedient - "and very humble servant, - "EDWARD JENNER." - - -Jenner was a bright representative of that class of medical -practitioners--sagacious, well-instructed, courageous, and -self-dependent in intellect--who, at the close of the last century, -began to spring up in all parts of the country, and have rapidly -increased in number; so that now the prejudiced, vulgar, pedantic -doctors of Sterne's and Smollett's pages are extinct--no more to be -found on the face of the earth than are the drunken squires who -patronized and insulted them. - -Of such a sort was Samuel Parr, the father of the famous classic -scholar and Whig politician of the same name. The elder Parr was a -general practitioner at Harrow, "a man" (as his son described him) "of -a very robust and vigorous intellect." Educated in his early years at -Harrow School, Samuel Parr (the son) was taken from that splendid -seminary at the age of fourteen years and apprenticed to his father. -For three or four years he applied himself to the mastery of the -elements of surgical and medical knowledge--dispensing medicines, -assisting at operations, and performing all the duties which a country -doctor's pupil was expected to perform. But he had not nerve enough -for the surgical department of the profession. "For a physician," he -used to say, "I might have done well, but for a surgeon never." His -father consequently sent him to Cambridge, and allowed him to turn his -intellects to those pursuits in which Nature had best fitted him to -excel. Dr. Parr's reminiscences of this period of medical instruction -were nearly all pleasant--and some of them were exquisitely droll. At -that early age his critical taste and faculty caused him to subject -the prescriptions that came under his notice to a more exact scrutiny -than the dog-Latin of physicians usually undergoes. - -"Father," cried the boy, glancing his eye over a prescription, "here's -another mistake in the grammar!" - -"Sam," answered the irritable sire, "d---- the prescription, make up -the medicine." - -Laudanum was a preparation of opium just then coming into use. Mr. -Parr used it at first sparingly and cautiously. On one occasion he -administered a small quantity to a patient, and the next day, pleased -with the effects of the dose, expressed his intention (but -hesitatingly) to repeat it. - -"You may do that safely, sir," said the son. - -"Don't be rash, boy. Beginners are always too bold. How should you -know what is safe?" asked the father. - -"Because, sir," was the answer, "when I made up the prescription -yesterday, I doubled the dose." - -"Doubled the dose! How dared you do that?" exclaimed the angry senior. - -"Because, sir," answered little Sam, coolly, "_I saw you hesitate._" - -The father who would not feel pride in such a son would not deserve to -have him. - -Though Parr made choice of another profession he always retained a -deep respect for his father's calling and the practitioners of it; -medical men forming a numerous and important portion of his -acquaintance. In his years of ripest judgment he often declared that -"he considered the medical professors as the most learned, -enlightened, moral, and liberal class of the community." - -How many pleasant reminiscences this writer has of country surgeons--a -class of men interesting to an observer of manners, as they comprise -more distinct types of character than any other professional body. -Hail to thee, Dr. Agricola! more yeoman than _savant_, bluff, hearty, -and benevolent, hastening away from fanciful patients to thy farm, -about which it is thy pleasure, early and late, to trudge, vigilant -and canny, clad in velveteen jacket and leathern gaiters, armed with -spud-stick or double-barrel gun, and looking as unlike Andrew Borde -or Dr. Slop as it is possible to conceive mortal! What an eccentric, -pious, tyrannical, most humane giant thou art! When thou wast mayor of -thy borough, what lawless law didst thou maintain! With thine own arm -and oaken stick didst thou fustigate the drunken poacher who beat his -wife; and the little children, who made a noise in the market-square -on a Sunday, thou didst incarcerate (for the sake of public morality) -in "the goose-house" for two hours; but (for the sake of mercy) thou -didst cause to be served out to each prisoner one large gingerbread -bun--to soften the hardships of captivity. When the ague raged, and -provisions were scarce in what the poor still refer to as "the bad -year," what prescriptions didst thou, as parish doctor, shower down on -the fever-ridden?--Mutton and gin, beef and wine--such were thy -orders! The parsons said bravo! and clapt thee on the back; but the -guardians of the poor and the relieving officers were up in arms, and -summoned thee before a solemn tribunal at the union-house--"the -board!" in fact. What an indignant oath and scream of ridicule didst -thou give, when an attorney (Sir Oracle of "the board") endeavoured to -instil into thy mind the first principles of supply and demand, and -that grandest law of political economy--to wit, if there are too many -poor people in a neighbourhood, they must be starved out of it into -one where they will not be in the way; and if there are too many poor -people in the entire world, they must be starved out of that also into -another, where there'll be more room for them! And what was thy answer -to the chairman's remark, "Doctor, if mutton and gin are the only -medicines that will cure the sick poor, you must supply them -yourself, in accordance with your contract"? What was thy answer? Why, -a shower of butchers' and vintners' bills, pulled from the pockets of -thy ancient gray coat--bills all receipted, and showing that, before -asking the ratepayers for a doit, thou hadst expended every penny of -thy salary of L150 on mutton and gin, beef and wine--for the sick -poor! What a noble answer to a petty taunt! The chairman blushed. The -attorney hurried away, saying he had to be present at an auction. The -great majority of "the board" came to a resolution, engaging to -support you in your schemes for helping the poor through the bad year. -But the play was not yet at an end. Some rumours of what had occurred -at the board reaching the ears of a few poor peasants, they made bold -to thank thee for thy exertions in their behalf. How didst thou -receive them?--With a violent harrangue against their incorrigible -laziness and dishonesty--an assurance that half their sufferings -sprung from their own vices--and a vehement declaration that, far from -speaking a good word for them to the guardians, thou didst counsel the -sternest and cruellest of measures. - -A man of another mould and temper was the writer's dear friend, Felix. -Gentle and ardent, tranquil as a summer evening, and unyielding as a -rock, modest but brave, unobtrusive but fearless, he had a mind that -poets only could rightly read. Delicate in frame, as he was refined in -intellect, he could not endure rude exertion or vulgar pleasure. -Active in mind, he still possessed a vein of indolence, thoroughly -appreciating the pleasure of dreaming the whole day long on a sunny -chair in a garden, surrounded with bright flowers and breathing a -perfumed air. In the hot season the country people used to watch their -doctor traversing the country in his capacious phaeton. Alone, without -a servant by his side, he held the reins in his hands, but in his -reveries altogether forgot to use them. Sometimes he would fall -asleep, and travel for miles in a state of unconsciousness, his great -phlegmatic horse pounding the dust at the rate of five miles an hour. -The somni-driverous doctor never came to harm. His steed knew how to -keep on the left-hand side of the road, under ordinary circumstances -passing all vehicles securely, but never thinking of overtaking any; -and the country people, amongst whom the doctor spent his days, made -his preservation from bodily harm an object of their especial care. -Often did a rustic wayfarer extricate the doctor's equipage from a -perilous position, and then send it onwards without disturbing the -gentleman by waking him. The same placid, equable man was Felix in -society, that he was on these professional excursions--nothing -alarming or exciting him. It was in his study that the livelier -elements of his nature came into play. Those who, for the first time, -conversed with him in private on his microscopic and chemical -pursuits, his researches in history, or his labours in speculative or -natural philosophy, caught fire from his fire and were inspired with -his enthusiasm. - -Felix belonged to a class daily becoming more numerous; Miles was of a -species that has already become rare--the army surgeon. The -necessities of the long war caused the enrolment of numbers of young -men in the ranks of the medical profession, whose learning was not -their highest recommendation to respect. An old navy surgeon, of no -small wit, and an infinite capacity for the consumption of strong -liquors--wine, brandy, whisky, usquebaugh (anything, so long as it was -strong)--gave a graphic description to this writer of his examination -on things pertaining to surgery by the Navy Board. - -"Well," said the narrator, putting down his empty glass and filling it -again with Madeira--"I was shown into the examination-room. Large -table, and half-a-dozen old gentlemen at it. 'Big-wigs, no doubt,' -thought I; 'and sure as my name is Symonds, they'll pluck me like a -pigeon.' - -"'Well, sir, what do you know about the science of your profession?' -asked the stout man in the chair. - -"'More than he does of the practice, I'll be bound,' tittered a little -wasp of a dandy--a West End ladies' doctor. - -"I trembled in my shoes. - -"'Well, sir,' continued the stout man, 'what would you do if a man was -brought to you during action with his arms and legs shot off? Now, -sir, don't keep the Board waiting! What would you do? Make haste!' - -"'By Jove, sir!' I answered--a thought just striking me--'I should -pitch him overboard, and go on to some one else I could be of more -service to.' - -"By -- --! every one present burst out laughing; and they passed me -directly, sir--passed me directly!" - -The examiners doubtless felt that a young man who could manifest such -presence of mind on such an occasion, and so well reply to a -terrorizing question, might be trusted to act wisely on other -emergencies. - -Many stories of a similar kind are very old acquaintances of most of -our readers. - -"What"--an examiner of the same Board is reported to have said to a -candidate--"would you have recourse to if, after having ineffectually -tried all the ordinary diaphoretics, you wanted to throw your patient, -in as short a time as possible, into a profuse perspiration?" - -"I should send him here, sir, to be examined," was the reply. - -Not less happy was the audacity of the medical student to Abernethy. - -"What would you do," bluntly inquired the surgeon, "if a man was -brought to you with a broken leg?" - -"Set it, sir," was the reply. - -"Good--very good--you're a very pleasant, witty young man; and -doubtless you can tell me what muscles of my body I should set in -motion if I kicked you, as you deserve to be kicked, for your -impertinence." - -"You would set in motion," responded the youth, with perfect coolness, -"the flexors and extensors of my right arm; for I should immediately -knock you down." - -If the gentlemen so sent forth to kill and cure were not overstocked -with professional learning, they soon acquired a knowledge of their -art in that best of all schools--experience. At the conclusion of the -great war they were turned loose upon the country, and from their body -came many of the best and most successful practitioners of every -county of the kingdom. The race is fast dying out. A Waterloo banquet -of medical officers, serving in our army at that memorable battle, -would at the present time gather together only a small number of -veterans. This writer can remember when they were plentiful; and, in -company with two or three of the best of their class, he spent many of -the happiest days of his boyhood. An aroma of old camp life hung about -them. They rode better horses, and more boldly, than the other doctors -round about. However respectable they might have become with increased -years and prosperity, they retained the military knack of making -themselves especially comfortable under any untoward combination of -external circumstances. To gallop over a bleak heath, through the cold -fog of a moonless December night; to sit for hours in a stifling -garret by a pauper's pallet; to go for ten days without sleeping on a -bed, without undressing, and with the wear of sixteen hours out of -every twenty-four spent on horseback--were only features of "duty," -and therefore to be borne manfully, and with generous endurance, at -the time--and, in the retrospect, to be talked of with positive -contentment and hilarity. They loved the bottle, too--as it ought to -be loved: on fit occasions drinking any given quantity, and, in -return, giving any quantity to drink; treating claret and the thinner -wines with a levity at times savouring of disdain; but having a deep -and unvarying affection for good sound port, and, at the later hours, -very hot and very strong whisky and water, _with_ a slice of lemon in -each tumbler. How they would talk during their potations! What stories -and songs! George the Fourth (even according to his own showing) had -scarce more to do in bringing about the victory at Waterloo than -they. Lord Anglesey's leg must have been amputated thrice; for this -writer knew three surgeons who each--separately and by himself--performed -the operation. But this sort of boasting was never indulged in before -the --th tumbler. - -May a word not be here said on the toping country doctor? Shame on -these times! ten years hence one will not be able to find a bibulous -apothecary, though search be made throughout the land from Dan to -Beersheba! Sailors, amongst the many superstitions to which they cling -with tenacity, retain a decided preference for an inebrious to a sober -surgeon. Not many years since, in a fishing village on the eastern -coast, there flourished a doctor in great repute amongst the poor; and -his influence over his humble patients literally depended on the fact -that he was sure, once in the four-and-twenty hours, to be handsomely -intoxicated. Charles Dickens has told the public how, when he bought -the raven immortalised in "Barnaby Rudge," the vendor of that -sagacious bird, after enumerating his various accomplishments and -excellences, concluded, "But, sir, if you want him to come out very -strong, you must show him a drunk man." The simple villagers of -Flintbeach had a firm faith in the strengthening effects of looking at -a tipsy doctor. They always postponed their visits to Dr. Mutchkin -till evening, because then they had the benefit of the learned man in -his highest intellectual condition. "Dorn't goo to he i' the mornin', -er can't doctor noways to speak on tills er's had a glass," was the -advice invariably given to a stranger not aware of the doctor's little -peculiarities. - -Mutchkin was unquestionably a shrewd fellow, although he did his best -to darken the light with which nature had endowned him. One day, -accompanied by his apprentice, he visited a small tenant farmer who -had been thrown on his bed with a smart attack of bilious fever. After -looking at his patient's tongue and feeling his pulse, he said -somewhat sharply:-- - -"Ah! 'tis no use doing what's right for you, if you will be so -imprudent." - -"Goodness, doctor, what do you mean?" responded the sick man; "I have -done nothing imprudent." - -"What!--nothing imprudent? Why, bless me, man, you have had green peas -for dinner." - -"So I have, sir. But how did you find that out?" - -"In your pulse--in your pulse. It was very foolish. Mind, you mayn't -commit such an indiscretion again. It might cost you your life." - -The patient, of course, was impressed with Mutchkin's acuteness, and -so was the apprentice. When the lad and his master had retired, the -former asked:-- - -"How did you know he had taken peas for dinner, sir? Of course it -wasn't his pulse that told you." - -"Why, boy," the instructor replied, "I saw the pea-shells that had -been thrown into the yard, and I drew my inference." - -The hint was not thrown away on the youngster. A few days afterwards, -being sent to call on the same case, he approached the sick man, and, -looking very observant, felt the pulse. - -"Ah!--um--by Jove!" exclaimed the lad, mimicking his master's manner, -"this is very imprudent. It may cost you your life. Why, man, you've -eaten a horse for your dinner." - -The fever patient was so infuriated with what he naturally regarded as -impertinence, that he sent a pathetic statement of the insult offered -him to Mutchkin. On questioning his pupil as to what he meant by -accusing a man, reduced with sickness, of having consumed so large and -tough an animal, the doctor was answered-- - -"Why, sir, as I passed through from the yard I saw the saddle hanging -up in the kitchen." - -This story is a very ancient one. It may possibly be found in one of -the numerous editions of Joe Miller's facetiae. The writer has, -however, never met with it in print, and the first time he heard it, -Dr. Mutchkin, of Flintbeach, was made to figure in it in the matter -above described. - -The shrewdness of Mutchkin's apprentice puts us in mind of the -sagacity of the hydropathic doctor, mentioned in the "Life of Mr -Assheton Smith." A gentleman devoted to fox-hunting and deep potations -was induced, by the master of the Tedworth Hunt, to have recourse to -the water cure, and see if it would not relieve him of chronic gout, -and restore something of the freshness of youth. The invalid acted on -the advice, and in obedience to the directions of a hydropathic -physician, proceeded to swathe his body, upon going to his nightly -rest, with wet bandages. The air was chill, and the water -looked--very--cold. The patient shivered as his valet puddled the -bandages about in the cold element. He paused, as a schoolboy does, -before taking his first "header" for the year on a keen May morning; -and during the pause much of his noble resolve oozed away. - -"John," at last he said to his valet, "put into that d---- water half -a dozen bottles of port wine, to warm it." - -John having carried out the direction, the bandages, saturated with -port wine and water, were placed round the corpulent trunk of the -invalid. The next morning the doctor, on paying his visit and -inspecting the linen swathes, instead of expressing astonishment at -their discoloration with the juice of the grape, observed, with the -utmost gravity:-- - -"Ah, the system is acting beautifully. See, the port wine is already -beginning to leave you!" - -A different man from Dr. Mutchkin was jovial Ambrose Harvey. Twenty -years ago no doctor throughout his county was more successful--no man -more beloved. By natural strength of character he gained leave from -society to follow his own humours without let, hindrance, or censure. -Ladies did not think the less highly of his professional skill because -he visited them in pink, and left their bedsides to ride across the -country with Lord Cheveley's hounds. Six feet high, handsome, hearty, -well-bred, Ambrose had a welcome wherever there was joy or sickness. -To his little wife he was devotedly attached and very considerate; and -she in return was very fond, and--what with woman is the same -thing--very jealous of him. He was liked, she well knew, by the -country ladies, many of whom were so far her superiors in rank and -beauty and accomplishments, that it was only natural in the good -little soul to entertain now and then a suspicious curiosity about the -movements of her husband. Was it nothing but the delicate health of -Lady Ellin that took him so frequently to Hove Hall? How it came -about, from what charitable whisperings on the part of kind friends, -from what workings of original sin in her own gentle breast, it would -be hard to say; but 'tis a fact that, when Hove Hall was mentioned, a -quick pain seized the little wife's heart and colour left her cheek, -to return again quickly, and in increased quantity. The time came when -she discovered the groundlessness of her fears, and was deeply -thankful that she had never, in any unguarded moment, by clouded brow, -or foolish tears, or sharp reply, revealed the folly of her heart. -Just at the time that Mrs. Ambrose was in the midst of this trial of -her affection, Ambrose obtained her permission to drive over to a town -twelve miles distant, to attend the hunt dinner. The night of that -dinner was a memorable one with the doctor's wife. Ambrose had -promised to be home at eleven o'clock. But twelve had struck, and here -he had not returned. One o'clock--two o'clock! No husband! The -servants had been sent to bed four hours ago; and Mrs. Ambrose sate -alone in her old wainscotted parlour, with a lamp by her side, sad, -and pale, and feverish--as wakeful as the house-dog out of doors, that -roamed round the house, barking out his dissatisfaction at the -prolonged absence of his master. - -At length, at half-past two, a sound of wheels was at the door, and in -another minute Ambrose entered the hall, and greeted his little wife. -Ah, Mrs. Ellis, this writer will not pain you by entering into details -in this part of his story. In defence of Ambrose, let it be said that -it was the only time in all his married life that he paid too -enthusiastic homage to the god of wine. Something he mumbled about -being tired, and having a headache, and then he walked, not -over-steadily, upstairs. Poor Mrs. Ambrose! It was not any good asking -_him_, what had kept him out so late. Incensed, frightened, and -jealous, the poor little lady could not rest. She must have one doubt -resolved. Where had her husband been all this time? Had he been round -by Hove Hall? Had she reflected, she would have seen his Bacchic -drowsiness was the best possible evidence that he had not come from a -lady's drawing-room. But jealousy is love's blindness. A thought -seized the little woman's head; she heard the step of Ambrose's man in -the kitchen, about to retire to rest. Ah, he could tell her. A word -from him would put all things right. Quick as thought, without -considering her own or her husband's dignity, the angry little wife -hastened down-stairs, and entered the kitchen where John was paying -his respects to some supper and mild ale that had been left out for -him. As evil fortune would have it, the step she had taken to mend -matters made them worse. - -"Oh, John," said the lady, telling a harmless fib, "I have just come -to see if cook left you out a good supper." - -John--most civil and trustworthy of grooms--rose, and posing himself -on his heels, made a respectful obeisance to his mistress, not a -little surprised at her anxiety for his comfort. But, alas! the -potations at the hunt-dinner had not been confined to the gentlemen of -the hunt. John had, in strong ale, taken as deep draughts of gladness -as Ambrose had in wine. At a glance his mistress saw the state of the -case, and in her fright, losing all caution, put her question -point-blank, and with imperious displeasure--"John, where have you and -your master been?--tell me instantly." - -An admirable servant--honest and well-intentioned at all times--just -then confused and loquacious--John remembered him how often his master -had impressed upon him that it was his duty not to gossip about the -places he stopped at in his rounds, as professional secrecy was a -virtue scarcely less necessary in a doctor's man-servant than in a -doctor. Acting on a muddle-headed reminiscence of his instructions, -John reeled towards his mistress, endeavouring to pacify her with a -profusion of duteous bobbings of the head, and in a tone of piteous -sympathy, and with much incoherence, made this memorable answer to her -question: "I'm very sorry, mum, and I do hope, mum, you won't be -angry. I allus wish to do you my best duty--that I do, mum--and you're -a most good, affable missus, and I, and cook, and all on us are very -grateful to you." - -"Never mind that. Where have you and your master been? That's my -question." - -"Indeed, mum--I darnatellye, it would bes goodasmeplace wi' master. I -dare not say where we ha' been. For master rekwested me patikler not -to dewulge." - -But thou hadst not wronged thy wife. It was not thine to hurt any -living thing, dear friend. All who knew thee will bear witness that to -thee, and such as thee, Crabbe pointed not his bitter lines:-- - - "But soon a loud and hasty summons calls, - Shakes the thin roof, and echoes round the walls; - Anon a figure enters, quaintly neat, - All pride and business, bustle and conceit, - With looks unalter'd by these scenes of woe, - With speed that entering speaks his haste to go; - He bids the gazing throng around him fly, - And carries Fate and Physic in his eye; - A potent quack, long versed in human ills, - Who first insults the victim whom he kills, - Whose murd'rous hand a drowsy bench protect, - And whose most tender mercy is neglect. - Paid by the Parish for attendance here, - He wears contempt upon his sapient sneer. - In haste he seeks the bed where misery lies, - Impatience mark'd in his averted eyes; - And, some habitual queries hurried o'er, - Without reply, he rushes to the door; - His drooping patient, long inured to pain, - And long unheeded, knows remonstrance vain; - He ceases now the feeble help to crave - Of man, and mutely hastens to the grave." - - - THE END. - - - - -INDEX. - - - Abernethy, Dr. John, 48, 158, 159, 180, 213, 214, 216, 375, 407. - - Abernethy, Biscuit, 162. - - Addington, Dr. Anthony, 394. - - Agricola, Dr., 496. - - Agrippa, Cornelius, 87. - - Aikin, Dr., 48, 428. - - Ailhaud's Powder, 102. - - Akenside, Dr., 327, 381. - - Albemarle, Duke of, 54, 118. - - Alexander, William, 320. - - Allan, 43. - - Alston, Sir Richard, 257. - - Alured, Thomas, 274. - - Andrew, Merry, 29, 422. - - Anne, Queen, 92, 93, 94, 116, 117, 119, 131, 163, 189, 242, 262. - - Anthony, Dr. Francis, 467. - - Antiochus, 168. - - Arbuthnot, Dr., 62, 72, 132, 138, 144, 163, 186, 187, 190, 191, 192. - - Archer, Dr. John, 148, 149, 150, 225. - - Argent, Dr., 17. - - Armstrong, Dr., 426. - - Arnold, Dr., 345. - - Askew, Dr., 10, 244. - - Atkins, Dr. Henry, 66, 204. - - Atkins, Will, 15. - - Aubrey, John, 25, 464. - - Augustus, 13, 168. - - Ayliffe, Sir John, 165, 166. - - Ayre, William, 74. - - - Bacon, Lord, 82, 255, 287. - - Baillie, Dr., 10, 244, 394. - - Baker, Dr., 161, 332. - - Ballow, Mr., 381. - - Baltrop, Dr. Robert, 29. - - Bancroft, Dr. John, 139. - - Barber--surgeons, 12. - - Baring, Sir F., 178. - - Barrowby, Dr., 155, 156. - - Barrymore, Lord, 154. - - Bartley, Dr., 29. - - Barton, Mr. 278. - - Bayle, Dr., 78. - - Beauclerc, Lady Vere, 289. - - Beauford, Dr., 154, 155. - - Beauford, Thomas, 474. - - Beckford, 45. - - Beddoes, Dr. 146. - - Bedford, Duke of, 96, 309. - - Behn, Afra, 200. - - Bennet, Dr., 382. - - Bentham, Jeremy, 397. - - Bentley, 184, 185, 252. - - Berkeley, Bishop, 96. - - Berry, Miss, 318. - - Betterton, 139. - - Bickersteth, Dr. Henry, 396. - - Bidloe, Dr., 118. - - Blackmore, Sir Richard, 39, 51, 73, 74, 113, 115, 117, 186, - 193, 375, 427. - - Bleeding, 225. - - Blizard, Sir William, 114, 245. - - Blood, Mrs., 309. - - Blount, Col., 195. - - Bohn, Mr., 26. - - Bond, John, M. A., 183. - - Borcel, William de, 55. - - Borde, Andrew, 29, 423, 479. - - Boswell, James, 140, 308, 333, 339, 463. - - Boulter, Mr., 473. - - Bourdier, Dr., 205. - - Bouvart, Dr., 169. - - Boydell, Mary, 408. - - Boyle, Mr., 57, 58, 272, 467. - - Brennen, Dr. John, 386. - - Brocklesby, Dr., 16, 211, 381. - - Brodie, Sir Benjamin, 107, 166, 366, 370. - - Bruce, Robert, 193. - - Browne, Sir Thomas, 38. - - Buckle, Mr., 333. - - Buckingham, Duchess of, 152. - - Buckingham, Duke of, 47, 58. - - Buckinghampshire, Countess of, 370. - - Bulleyn, Richard, 37. - - Bulleyn, Dr. William, 25, 26, 29, 37, 64, 165, 229. - - Bungalo, Prof., 92. - - Buns, Dr., 29. - - Burke, Edmund, 211, 441. - - Burnet, Gilbert, 131. - - Burton, Dr., 67. - - Burton, Robert, 263, 428. - - Burton, Sim, 292. - - Busby, Dr., 9. - - Butler, Dr., 211. - - Butler, Samuel, 260. - - Butler, Dr. William, 25, 179. - - Butts, Sir William, 25, 164, 166. - - Byron, Lord, 193, 328. - - - Cadogan, Lord, 290, 393. - - Cains, 22. - - Calfe, Thomas, 29. - - Chambre, Dr. John, 21. - - Campan, Madame, 283. - - Campanella, Thomas, 13, 264. - - Cane, 11. - - Canker, 33. - - Canning, 421. - - Cardan, 264. - - Caroline, Queen, 174. - - Carr, Dr., 29. - - Carriages, 17. - - Carteret, George, 55. - - Case, John, 167. - - Cashin, Catherine, 364, 370. - - Catherine, Empress, 179. - - Cavendish, Lord C., 161. - - Chalon, Comtesse de, 349. - - Charles I., 23, 42, 173, 204. - - " II., 15, 17, 23, 38, 40, 57, 148, 157, 173, 174, 234, 472. - - " VI., 221. - - " IX., 173. - - " XI., 203. - - Charleton, Dr., 58. - - Chartres, Francis, 191. - - Chatham, Earl of, 394. - - Chaucer, 20. - - Cheke, Sir John, 138. - - Chemberline, 79. - - Cheselden, Dr., 68, 215, 292. - - Chester, Richard, 332. - - Chesterfield, Lord, 233, 314. - - Cheyne, Dr., 146, 247, 377, 399. - - Cholmondley, Miss, 238. - - Churchill, General, 180, 290. - - Clarke, Mr., 233. - - Clarke, Sir James, 18, 107. - - Clermont, Lady, 349. - - Clopton, Roger, 312. - - Coakley, Dr., 339. - - Codrington, Col., 195, 199. - - Cogan, Dr., 428. - - Coke, 11. - - Coldwell, Dr., 229. - - Coleridge, S. T., 41. - - Coles, William, 178. - - Collier, Jeremy, 200. - - Collington, Sir James, 193. - - Colombeire, De la, 380. - - Combermer, Lord, 393. - - Congreve, 201. - - Conolly, Dr., 221. - - Conway, Lady, 271, 272. - - Conway, Lord, 273. - - Cooper, Sir Astley, 13, 70, 177, 362, 375. - - Cooper, Bransby, 375. - - Cooper, Dr. William, 216. - - Cordus, Euricus, 168. - - Cordus, Valerius, 65. - - Cornwallis, Lord, 290. - - Corvisart, Dr., 205. - - Cotgrave, 85. - - Coytier, Dr., 203. - - Crabbe, George, 436. - - Cranworth, Lord, 311, 320. - - Creswell, Sir Creswell, 485. - - Croft, Sir Richard, 394. - - Cromwell, 83. - - Crossfield, Thomas, 435. - - Crowe, Mrs., 290. - - Cruikshank, George, 413. - - " Dr., 211. - - Cudworth, Dr., 272. - - Cullum, Sir Thomas Geery, 398. - - Cumberland, Earl of, 171. - - Curran, John Philpot, 213. - - Curray, Dr. "Calomel," 162. - - Cutler, Sir John, 472. - - - Dalmahoy, Colonel, 15. - - Darrell, Lady, 33, 165. - - Darwin, Dr. Erasmus, 428. - - Davy, Sir Humphrey, 59, 60, 61, 62, 429. - - Davy, Lady, 62. - - Dawson, John, 406. - - Dawson, Dr. Thomas, 406. - - Dee, Dr., 42. - - Delaune, 471. - - Denman, Dr. Joseph, 394. - - Denman, Lord, 393, 394. - - Dennis, 375. - - Denton, Dr., 272. - - Derby, Edward, Earl of, 44, 165. - - De Rothes, Countess, 398. - - Derwentwater, Earl of, 111. - - Desault, 13. - - Desmond, Countess of, 254. - - Devonshire, Duchess, 349. - - D'Ewes, Sir Symonds, 480. - - Diamond, Dr., 41, 321, 434. - - Dickens, Charles, 503. - - Digby, Sir Everard, 42. - - Digby, Sir Kenelm, 38, 57, 58, 282. - - Dilly, Charles, 339. - - Dimsdale, Dr., 179. - - Dioscorides, 64. - - Dodds, James, 357. - - Dodsley, 328. - - Doran, John, 167, 466. - - Dorset, Richard, Earl of, 343. - - Douglas, Sylvester, 395. - - Drake, Dr. James, 125. - - Dryden, John, 38, 74, 194, 197, 201, 379. - - Dubois, Dr., 205. - - Ducrow, Andrew, 372. - - Dumeny, 381. - - Dumoulin, Dr., 104. - - Dunoyer, Madame, 380. - - Dureux, Madame, 381. - - Dwyer, J. W., 277. - - Dyson, Dr., 328. - - - Edmunds, Dr., 29. - - Edward I., 40. - - " II., 258. - - " III., 166, 170, 476. - - " VI., 21, 173. - - Edwards, Dr., 29. - - Edwards, George, 56. - - Eliot, Sir John, 402, 403, 408. - - Elizabeth, Queen, 40, 164, 173, 203. - - Elliot, Sir Thomas, 29, 33, 165, 229. - - Elmy, Sarah, 438. - - Elton, Sir Marwood, 393. - - Embrocations, 30. - - Ent, Dr., 58. - - Erasistratus, 168. - - Erskine, 180, 194. - - Eugene, Prince, 153. - - Evelyn, John, 57, 174. - - Everard, Dr., 150, 225. - - - Faber, Dr., 272. - - Fairclough, Dr. James, 272, 274. - - Faire, Thomas, 29. - - Fallopius, Gabriel, 144. - - Fees, 163. - - Ferriar, Dr., 428. - - Fielding, Beau, 42, 186. - - Fielding, Henry, 96, 316. - - Fielding, Sir John, 316. - - Flemyng, Dr., 146. - - Fludd, Dr. Robert, 422, 436. - - Fludd, Dr. Thomas, 435. - - Foote, Samuel, 463. - - Ford, Charles, 132. - - Fordyce, Dr. George, 153. - - Forster, Dr., 320. - - Fothergill, Dr. John, 207, 335, 337. - - Fox, Charles James, 430. - - Fox, Simeon, 17. - - Francis II., 173. - - French, Mrs., 288. - - Frere, Dr., 29. - - Freind, Dr., 152, 186, 251, 252, 318, 375. - - Froissart, 221. - - Fuller, Thomas, 25, 180. - - - Gaddesden, John of, 258. - - Galen, 13. - - Galileo, 369. - - Gardiner, Joseph, 292. - - Garrick, David, 314. - - Garth, Sir Samuel, 63, 92, 113, 152, 186, 194, 199, 333, - 375, 376, 433, 472. - - Gascoigne, Sir William, 33, 165. - - Gaskin, Dr., 155. - - Gay, John, 186. - - Geber, 255. - - Gee, Dr., 29. - - George I., 243. - - " III., 160, 173, 174, 340, 350, 431. - - " IV., 170, 173. - - Germain, Lord George, 402. - - Getseus, John Daniel, 265. - - Gibbons, Dr., 113, 117, 139, 152, 375. - - Gilbert, Dr., 276. - - Gisborne, Dr. Thomas, 394. - - Gloucester, Duke of, 118. - - Glynn, Dr., 162, 208, 400. - - Goddard, Dr., 58. - - Godolphin, Sir John, 272, 313, 316. - - Goldsmith, Oliver, 86, 115, 185, 189, 426. - - Good, Dr. Mason, 428. - - Goodwin, Mr., 78. - - Gordonius, 13. - - Gout, 23. - - Gower, Lord, 156. - - Grafton, Duke of, 317. - - Graham, Dr. James, 345, 350, 351. - - Grainger, 427. - - Grant, Roger, 94, 95. - - Gray, Thomas, 333. - - Greatrakes, Valentine, 265-273. - - Greaves, Sir Edmund, 55. - - Green, Richard, 439. - - Gregory, Dr. James, 193, 209. - - Grenville, Lord, 207. - - Grey, Dr., 479. - - Griffith, Mrs., 426. - - Gungeland, Coursus de, 170. - - Guy, Thomas, 466, 470. - - Guyllyam, Dr., 221. - - Gwynn, Nell, 157. - - Gyer, Nicholas, 228. - - - Hale, Dr., 252. - - Hales, Stephen, 291. - - Halford, Sir Henry, 173, 393, 421. - - Halifax, Charley, 486. - - Halley, Dr., 185. - - Hamey, Baldwin, 63. - - Hamilton, Sir William, 348. - - Hancock, The Rev. John, 95. - - Handel, 161. - - Hannes, Sir Edward, 113, 114, 115, 249, 375, 384. - - Harrington, Dr., 429. - - Harris, Sir Edward, 265. - - Harris, Edmund, 265. - - Hartley, Dr. D., 292. - - Hartman, George, 45. - - Harvey, Dr. John, 24, 369. - - Harvey, Dr. Ambrose, 506. - - Harward, Simon, 228. - - Hastings, Mrs. Sarah, 288. - - Hatcher, Dr., 29, 164. - - Haveningham, Sir Anthony, 33, 165. - - Hawkins, Dr. C., 292. - - Hawkins, Sir John, 330. - - Haygarth, Dr., 277. - - Hearne, Thomas, 225, 423. - - Heberden, Dr. W., 51, 53, 161, 211. - - Hel, Dr. Maximilian, 283. - - Henry III., 40, 173. - - " IV., 23, 173. - - " VII., 21. - - " VIII., 21, 164, 171, 422, 468. - - Heraclius, Prince, 303. - - Herfurth, Earl of, 166. - - Hermes, 9, 11. - - Hertford, Marquis of, 235. - - Hill, Sir John, 59, 398, 479. - - Hill, Sir Rowland, 490. - - Hilton, Sir Thomas, 36. - - Hilton, William, 36. - - Hippocrates, 226. - - Hobart, Sir Nathaniel, 272. - - Hogarth, 463, 468. - - Hook, Mrs., 99. - - Horace, 308. - - Howe, Dr., 212. - - Howell, James, 46. - - Hughes, Mary Ann, 99. - - Hulse, Dr. Edward, 72, 252. - - Hunter, Dr. John, 23, 215, 295, 355, 369, 375, 405, 413. - - Hunter, Dr. William, 175. - - Huyck, Dr., 29. - - Hyatt, Mr., 178. - - - Ingestre, Lord, 370. - - Inverness, Lady, 303. - - Ivan, Dr., 205. - - - James I., 42, 47, 173, 204, 225, 471, 479. - - " II., 198. - - " IV., 166. - - James, Dr., 251. - - Jebb, Dr. John, 160. - - Jebb, Sir Richard, 159, 160, 205. - - Jeffcott, Sir John, 384. - - Jeffries, Dr., 383. - - Jenkins, Henry, 254. - - Jenner, Dr. Edward, 295, 369, 375, 488. - - Jermaine, Lady Betty, 289. - - Johnson, Samuel, 16, 39, 53, 67, 115, 140, 194, 201, 232, - 239, 262, 308, 330, 333, 427, 463. - - Jonson, Ben, 42, 44. - - Joseph, Emperor, 179. - - Jurin, Dr. James, 184. - - - Katterfelts, Dr., 103. - - Kavanaugh, Lady Harriet, 370. - - Kaye, John, 22, 29. - - Keats, John, 436. - - Keill, 184. - - Kellet, Alexander, 181. - - Kemp, Dr. Mitchell, 415. - - Kennix, Margaret, 288. - - King, Sir Edmund, 72, 113, 117, 234. - - King, Dr., 299. - - Kingsdown, Lord, 393, 394. - - Kitchener, Dr., 42. - - Kahn, Thamas Kouli, 303. - - Kneller, Sir Godfrey, 118, 119. - - Knightley, Sir Richard, 203. - - Kunyngham, Dr. William, 29. - - - Lambert, Daniel, 145. - - Langdale, Lord, 396. - - Langton, Dr., 19, 29. - - Lawrence, Sir Thomas, 358. - - Lax, Mr., 278. - - Leake, Robert, 247. - - Lettsom, Dr. John Coakley, 178, 207, 335, 375, 385. - - Levit, John, 78, 252. - - Levitt, William Springall, 438. - - Lewis, Jenkin, 115. - - Lewis, M. G., 411. - - Linacre, 22, 29, 138. - - Lloyd, Mrs., 369. - - Locke, Dr. John, 421. - - Locock, Dr., 287. - - Lodge, Edmund, 43. - - Long, John St. John, 356, 402. - - Louis XIII., 23, 173. - - " XIV., 205, 235. - - Louis XV., 146. - - Loutherbourg, Mr. and Mrs., 97, 98, 99, 100, 101. - - Lovell, Dr., 277. - - Lovkin, Dr., 29. - - Lower, Dr., 157. - - Lowther, Sir James, 290. - - Ludford, Dr. Simon, 29. - - Luff, Dr., 113. - - - Macartney, Dr., 370. - - Macaulay, Catherine, 345. - - M'Dougal, Peter, 108, 109, 110. - - Macilwain, George, 214, 375. - - Mackintosh, Lady, 303. - - Macnish, Dr., 436. - - Maecenas, 48. - - Mahomet, 83. - - Mandeville, 140. - - Manfield, Dr., 28. - - Manley, Mrs., 200. - - Mapletoft, Dr., 52. - - Mapp, Mrs., 295. - - Marie Louise, 205. - - Marlborough, Duke of, 77, 248, 313. - - " Duchess of, 140. - - Marshall, Dr., 112, 389. - - Martial, 186. - - Marvel, Andrew, 272. - - Mary, Queen, 175. - - Marwood, Dr., 393. - - Masham, Lady, 132, 137. - - Mason, William, 333. - - Masters, Dr., 29. - - Maupin, 381. - - Maxwell, Dr. William, 281. - - Mayerne, Sir Theodore, 23, 25, 48, 66, 146, 170. - - Mead, The Rev. Matthew, 240. - - Mead, Dr. Richard, 10, 68, 81, 97, 134, 136, 137, 142, 152, - 207, 239, 292, 377, 403, 434. - - Meade, Dr. William G., 254. - - Meagrim, Molly, 354. - - Mercurius, 11. - - Mercury, 9. - - Meredith, Sir Amos, 373. - - Mesmer, Dr. Frederick Anthony, 256, 264, 265, 275, 280, 345. - - Messenger, Elizabeth, 312. - - Messenger, Thomas, 312. - - Migaldus, 264. - - Miller, Joseph, 143. - - Millingen, Dr., 382, 429. - - Millington, Sir Thomas, 72. - - Moir, Dr., 436. - - Monsey, Dr. Messenger, 311. - - Monsey, Dr. Robert, 312. - - Montague, Lord, 42. - - " Mrs., 318, 321. - - Montaigne, 263. - - Moore, Dr. E. D., 491. - - Moore, Rev. Giles, 481. - - Moore, Dr. John, 428. - - Morgan, Hugo, 203. - - Morrison, Mr., 83. - - Morrison's pills, 373. - - Moseley, Dr., 489. - - Moussett, Dr., 21. - - Munchausen, 236. - - Murphy, Arthur, 463. - - Musa, Antonius, 13. - - Mutchkin, Dr., 503. - - Myersbach, Dr., 102. - - Myrepsus, Nicholas, 65. - - - Napoleon, 205. - - Nash, Beau, 378. - - Nelson, Dr., 178. - - Nelson, Lord, 193. - - Nesbitt, Dr., 240, 292. - - Nesle, Marquise de, 381. - - Newton, Sir Isaac, 185, 252, 255. - - Nicholson, Anthony, 273. - - Noble, J. P., 277. - - Northumberland, Earl of, 44. - - Nutley, Billy, 125. - - - Opie, John, 433. - - Ormond, Marchioness, 368, 370. - - Orrery, Earl of, 266, 271. - - Osborn, Jack, 311. - - - Page, Mr., 438. - - Palmery, Dr., 236. - - Pannel, Dr. Thomas, 29. - - Paracelsus, 226, 256, 257, 264. - - Pare, Ambrose, 173. - - Park, Judge, 367. - - Parnell, 186. - - Parr, Samuel, 67, 345, 494. - - Paris, Sir Philip, 165. - - Paris, Sir William, 33, 66. - - Pedagogues, 183. - - Peel, Sir Robert, 397. - - Pellet, Dr. Thomas, 241, 292. - - Pemberton, Dr. Edward, 395. - - Penie, Dr., 229. - - Pepys, Sir Lucas, 238, 394, 397. - - Pepys, Samuel, 465. - - Percy, Thomas, 44, 427. - - Perkins's tractors, 276, 283. - - Pettigrew, Dr., 375. - - Phillips, 285. - - Phreas, Dr. John, 20. - - Pindar, Peter, 430. - - Pitcairn, Dr., 20, 244. - - Placaton, Johannes, 65. - - Plasters, 30. - - Polhill, David, 241. - - Polignac, Countess, 381. - - Pooley, Thomas, 274. - - Pope, Alexander, 53, 67, 68, 93, 186, 190, 194, 198, 200, - 252, 318, 334, 370, 473. - - Popple, W., 274. - - Porter, Dr. John, 29. - - Portland, Earl of, 118. - - Pratt, Mary, 97, 98, 99, 100. - - Precious water, 30. - - Pringle, Sir John, 59, 161. - - - Quacks, 82. - - Quarin, Dr., 179. - - Quarrels, 374. - - - {~PRESCRIPTION TAKE~}., 11. - - Radcliffe, Dr. John, 10, 111, 152, 153, 204, 242, 243, 244, - 249, 314, 375, 403. - - Radnor, Lord, 232, 473. - - Rahere, Dr., 468. - - Raleigh, Sir Walter, 203. - - Ramadge, Dr., 370. - - Ranby, Mr., 316. - - Ranelagh, Lady, 273. - - Ranelagh, Lord, 398. - - Read, Henry, 254. - - Reade, Sir William, 93, 95. - - Redshaw, Mrs. Hannah, 123. - - Reynolds, Baron, 96, 180. - - Reynolds, Dr. Henry Revel, 13, 394. - - Reynolds, Sir Joshua, 427. - - Richardson, Daniel, 356, 357. - - Richelieu, 381. - - Robertson, William, 193. - - Robinson, Mr., 317. - - Robinson, Thomas, 98. - - Rochford, Earl of, 118. - - Rock, Dr., 212. - - Rogers, Tom, 225. - - Rolfe, The Rev. Edmund, 320. - - Rolfe, Robert Monsey, 320. - - Rose, Mr., 78. - - Rushe, Sir Thomas, 25. - - Rust, Dean, 273, 274. - - Rutland, Duke of, 441. - - - Saffold, Dr. Thomas, 90, 91. - - Sally, Crazy, 296. - - Sanders, Dr. Huck, 393. - - Saville, Sir George, 290. - - Savoy, Duke of, 235. - - Saxby, Dr., 330. - - Scott, Claude and Co., 363. - - Scott, Reginald, 229. - - Scott, Sir Walter, 50, 315. - - Sedley, Sir Charles, 195. - - Seleucus, 168. - - Seymour, Algernon, 398. - - Shandy, Mrs., 481. - - Sharp, Dr. Sam, 292. - - Shaw, Peter, 292. - - Sheffield, Lady, 238. - - Sheldon, Dr. John, 158. - - Shenstone, 39, 427. - - Sheppard, H. Fleetwood, 479. - - Sheridan, R. B., 395. - - Shirley, Dr. Thomas, 23. - - Short, Dr. Thomas, 117. - - Sidmouth, Lord, 393. - - Sligo, Lord, 368, 370. - - Sloane, Sir Hans, 51, 68, 72, 96, 161, 297, 393, 395, 421. - - Slop, Dr., 481. - - Smart, Dr., 316. - - Smith, Adam, 493. - - Smith, Sir William, 272. - - Smith, Dr., 383. - - Smithson, Sir Hugh, 398. - - Smollett, T. G., 69, 233, 333, 426. - - Soissons, Chevalier, 152. - - Somerset, Duke of, 398. - - Southcote, Joanna, 347. - - Spencer, Lady, 349. - - Sprat, Bishop, 129. - - Stafford, Dr., 145, 146. - - Standish, Dr., 484. - - Stanley, Sir Edward, 44. - - Stanley, Venetia, 43. - - Steele, Sir Richard, 101, 120, 199, 400, 428, 463. - - Stephens, Joanna, 288, 289. - - Sterne, Laurence, 193, 428, 481. - - Stowe, John, 19, 171. - - Strickland, Agnes, 243. - - Stuart, Charles Edward, 193. - - Stubbe, Dr. Henry, 169, 273. - - Sutcliffe, Dr., 335. - - Swartenburgh, Dr. Sieur, 153. - - Swift, Jonathan, 72, 73, 93, 132, 186, 187, 188, 197, 314, 375, 400. - - Sydenham, Dr., 51, 52. - - Sydney, Sir Philip, 42. - - Sympathetic powder, 45. - - - Tailor, Lady, 33, 165. - - Talbot, Sir G., 58, 381. - - Tantley, 378. - - Tatler, The, 126. - - Taylor, Chevalier, 297, 299, 310, 352, 355. - - Taylor, John, Jr., 302. - - Thackeray, 401. - - Theveneau, Dr., 236. - - Thompson, Dr., 67. - - Thornton, Bonnel, 14. - - Thurlow, Bishop, 355. - - Thurlow, Lord, 12. - - Tissot, 102. - - Tovell, John, 439. - - Townsend, Dr., 83. - - Trelawny, Sir William, 430. - - Trevor, Lord, 429. - - Tuke, Col., 37, 58. - - Turner, Dr., 29, 229. - - Turton, Dr. J., 161. - - Tyson of Hackney, 143. - - - Valleriola, 264. - - Van Buchell, Dr., 413. - - Vandeput, Sir George, 156. - - Vanninus, 264. - - Ventadour, M. De, 235. - - Vespasian, 261. - - Victoria, Dr. Fernandus de, 21. - - Victoria, Queen, 173. - - Villars, 105, 106, 107, 351. - - Von Ellekon, Dr., 283. - - - Wadd, Dr. William, 174, 228. - - Wakley, Mr., 366. - - Walker, Obadiah, 129, 130. - - Walpole, Horace, 234, 333. - - Walpole, Robert, 252, 314. - - Walsh, Dr., 380. - - Waltham, Mrs. Margaret, 481. - - Ward, 248, 295, 297, 308. - - Ward's pills, 96. - - Warren, Dr., 211, 394. - - Watson, Sir William, 161. - - Weatherby, Jo., 156. - - Wedderburne, 465. - - Weld, Charles, 57. - - Wellington, Duke of, 193. - - Wendy, Dr. Thomas, 29, 164. - - Whichot, Dr. Benjamin, 272, 274. - - Whistler, Dr., 113, 117. - - Whitaker, Dr. Tobias, 148. - - Whitefood, The Rev. John, 40. - - Wierus, 264. - - Wigs, 15. - - Wilkes, John, 381. - - Wilkins, Dr., 272. - - William III., 118, 119, 138, 198. - - " IV., 173. - - Williams, Dr., 382. - - Willis, Dr., 174, 394. - - Wilson, 217. - - Wingfield, Sir Robert, 37. - - Winslow, Dr. Forbes, 53, 321. - - Winston, Dr. Thomas, 63. - - Wolcot, John, 430. - - Wollaston, Dr. William Hyde, 59. - - Wolsey, Cardinal, 21. - - Wood, Anthony a, 55, 423. - - Woodhouse, The Hon. Francis, 298. - - Woodhouse, Mrs., 288. - - Woodville, Dr., 489. - - Woodward, Dr. John, 72, 248, 377. - - Wordsworth, William, 59. - - Wrench, Sir Benjamin, 313. - - Wynter, Dr., 377, 379. - - - Yaxley, Dr. Robert, 21. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's A Book about Doctors, by John Cordy Jeaffreson - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A BOOK ABOUT DOCTORS *** - -***** This file should be named 40161.txt or 40161.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/0/1/6/40161/ - -Produced by Irma Spehar and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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