diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/69406-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/69406-0.txt | 10168 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 10168 deletions
diff --git a/old/69406-0.txt b/old/69406-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 8c62e01..0000000 --- a/old/69406-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10168 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Eminent doctors, by George Thomas -Bettany - -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: Eminent doctors - Their lives and their work; Vol. 1 of 2 - -Author: George Thomas Bettany - -Release Date: November 22, 2022 [eBook #69406] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Bob Taylor, Emmanuel Ackerman and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The - Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EMINENT DOCTORS *** - - - - - - Transcriber’s Note - - Italic text displayed as: _text_ - - - - - EMINENT DOCTORS. - - - - - Ballantyne Press - BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO. - EDINBURGH AND LONDON - - - - - EMINENT DOCTORS: - - Their Lives and their Work. - - BY - - G. T. BETTANY, M.A. (CAMB.), B.Sc. (LOND.), F.L.S. - - AUTHOR OF “FIRST LESSONS IN PRACTICAL BOTANY,” - “ELEMENTARY PHYSIOLOGY,” ETC. - AND LECTURER ON BOTANY IN GUY’S HOSPITAL MEDICAL SCHOOL. - - “There is to me an inexpressible charm in the lives of the good, - brave, learned men, whose only objects have been, and are, to - alleviate pain and to save life.” - - —G. A. SALA. - - _IN TWO VOLUMES._ - - VOL. I. - - [Illustration: Bookmaker’s Mark] - - LONDON: - JOHN HOGG, PATERNOSTER ROW. - - [_All rights reserved._] - - - - - PREFACE. - - -Medical Biography has not taken its due place in the thoughts of our -countrymen, nor has it received deserved attention from literary -men. Anecdotes of big fees, brilliant operations, brusque actions, -or suave politeness, have too exclusively contributed to form the -popular idea of eminent physicians and surgeons. Aikin’s incomplete -“Biographical Memoirs of Medicine,” Macmichael’s “Lives of British -Physicians,” and Pettigrew’s “Medical Portrait Gallery,” have been -the chief collective records of British medical men; and the latter, -owing to its expensive form, was inaccessible to most persons. -Munk’s “Roll of the College of Physicians” is a mine of information -about members of that College, and a similar record of members of -the College of Surgeons would be invaluable. In 1865 Dr. Herbert -Barker commenced, and after his lamented death Dr. Tindal Robertson -continued, a series of memoirs of living medical men, accompanied by -photographs. The _Midland Medical Miscellany_ commenced to publish -a somewhat similar series of memoirs, with portraits, in 1882. The -medical press has been distinguished for the ability and general -fidelity of its biographical notices of deceased members of the -profession. - -There is no book, however, in current literature which supplies -medical men or the general public with biographical accounts of the -most notable men who in this kingdom have contributed to make the -medicine and surgery of to-day what they are. It is the aim of the -present book to occupy this vacant place. It is hoped that this has -been done in a form neither too technical for the general reader, nor -unsuitable for the busy practitioner, who has very little time to -read elaborate biographies, but would fain store his mind with the -principal facts and lessons of the lives of his great predecessors -and teachers. - -The difficulty of selection has been great. It was felt that sure -ground would be occupied by taking the foundation of the London -College of Physicians as a starting-point, and giving a place only -to those celebrated men in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries -whose title to fame none would deny. Paucity of biographical -materials has prevented the introduction of some names; others have -been excluded because they were rather notorious for their fees, -their _bonmots_, or their fantastic behaviour, than for their solid -contributions to medicine. - -In regard to men of the present century, the task of selection -has been still more difficult. For the most part distinguished -physiologists, zoologists, &c., do not find a place in these pages, -unless they have also won distinction in medical practice. It cannot -be expected that the list of living names will satisfy everybody. -Others as worthy might have been included. If in refraining from -commenting on the career of his present colleagues at Guy’s Hospital, -the author may appear to have done injustice to their great merits, -he is convinced that he has thereby best steered clear of the dangers -of partiality. The utmost care has been taken to avoid giving details -which should be private during a man’s life, and to state only those -facts about living men which have already for the most part been -made generally accessible. - -The task of reading hundreds of biographical memoirs, medical -treatises, scattered pamphlets and papers, has been exceedingly -heavy. All those named in the following pages have been consulted; -and where details are not given of controversies or incidents which -some may be surprised to see passed over, this has been the result -of careful deliberation. The author desires specially to acknowledge -his great obligations to the _Lancet_ and other medical journals. He -trusts he has contributed to the object which they, like himself, -have at heart, of elevating the medical profession in the public -estimation. - - - DULWICH, _September 1885_. - - - - - CONTENTS OF VOL. I. - - - PAGE - - PREFACE v - - CHAP. - - I. LINACRE, CAIUS, AND THE FOUNDATION OF BRITISH - MEDICINE 1 - - II. WILLIAM HARVEY AND THE CIRCULATION OF THE - BLOOD 25 - - III. THOMAS SYDENHAM, THE BRITISH HIPPOCRATES 52 - - IV. THE MONROS, CULLEN, THE GREGORYS, JOHN BELL, - AND THE FOUNDATION OF THE EDINBURGH SCHOOL - OF MEDICINE 71 - - V. WILLIAM AND JOHN HUNTER AND THE APPLICATIONS - OF ANATOMY AND PHYSIOLOGY TO SURGERY 119 - - VI. EDWARD JENNER AND VACCINATION 169 - - VII. SIR ASTLEY COOPER AND ABERNETHY: THE KNIFE - _versus_ REGIMEN 202 - - VIII. SIR CHARLES BELL AND THE FUNCTIONS OF THE - NERVOUS SYSTEM 242 - - IX. MARSHALL HALL AND THE DISCOVERY OF REFLEX - ACTION 264 - - X. SIR BENJAMIN BRODIE AND SIR WILLIAM LAWRENCE, - TWO GREAT PRACTICAL SURGEONS 286 - - - - -EMINENT DOCTORS. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -_LINACRE, CAIUS, AND THE FOUNDATION OF BRITISH MEDICINE._ - - -The name of THOMAS LINACRE must stand at the head of any account of -the history of British medicine, for before his accession to the -office of tutor and physician to Prince Arthur, eldest son of Henry -VII., in 1501, no physician of such ability as to have left works -of permanent value had arisen in this country. To him belongs the -honour of having founded the Royal College of Physicians of London, -the earliest of the British medical corporations; and by that one act -he may be said to have constituted medicine a distinct profession. -The slightness of the emphasis which can be laid upon the medical -profession up to Linacre’s time may be recognised from the fact that -he was both tutor and medical attendant to a prince, and that he -subsequently became a not undistinguished ecclesiastic. - -Canterbury gave birth to this founder of British medicine about -1460. He derived his descent, however, from a Derbyshire family -of Saxon blood flourishing before the Conquest at Linacre, near -Chesterfield. His school-days were passed under the superintendence -of William Selling, at the monastic school of Christchurch in -Canterbury. Selling was an enlightened man for his time, and had -travelled in Italy, where he studied Greek with one of the most -eager students of the time, Politian, and had brought home with him -numerous valuable manuscripts. A fellow of All Souls’ himself, he -doubtless had some influence in securing the election of his pupil to -a fellowship there at an early age, in 1484. At Oxford Linacre was a -pupil of Cornelio Vitelli, an Italian, one of the earliest teachers -who brought Greek learning into this country. - -Before long Linacre himself took charge of pupils, the most famous of -whom afterwards became Sir Thomas More. Linacre accompanied Selling -to Italy when Henry VII. appointed the latter on a mission to the -Roman pontiff. In Italy he received the benefit of introductions -to, and instructions from, Politian and others, and formed an -acquaintance with Aldus Manutius, the celebrated printer, at Venice. -At Florence he was introduced to Lorenzo de Medici, who specially -approved of his companionship with his sons both in their studies -and their amusements. After taking the degree of Doctor of Medicine -in the University of Padua with great applause, owing to the skill -with which he defended the positions of his thesis, he returned to -England. He apparently betook himself at once to Oxford, where he was -incorporated M.D. It is presumed that he was still most concerned -in academical pursuits; and he was the first Englishman to publish -a correct rendering of a Greek author after the revival of letters, -namely, the “Sphere” of Proclus, printed by Aldus at Venice in 1499. -Whether he was also incorporated at Cambridge, as Dr. Caius relates, -cannot now be proved, but it is rendered probable by the fact of his -subsequent foundation of a lectureship in medicine at that university. - -At this period of his life Linacre had the good fortune to be the -instructor, especially in Greek, of no less a person than Erasmus. -The latter was evidently a most appreciative admirer of our erudite -doctor, as well as of the facilities for classical study afforded -in England. “In Colet,” says he, writing to Robert Fisher, “I hear -Plato himself. Who does not admire the perfect compass of science -in Grocyn? Is aught more acute, more exalted, or more refined than -the judgment of Linacre? Has nature framed anything either milder, -sweeter, or happier than the disposition of More? It is wonderful -how universally copious is here the harvest of ancient learning, -wherefore you should hasten your return.” - -With the beginning of the sixteenth century, however, a new era in -Linacre’s life dawns. Whether or not he was introduced to court in -1501 in connection with the visit of Prince Arthur to Oxford, it is -certain that about the period when the prince was contracted in -marriage to Catherine of Arragon, his health and further education -were intrusted to Dr. Linacre; and it is believed, though without -sure grounds, that he also became one of the king’s domestic -physicians. - -The death of the young prince, however, relieving Linacre of his -tutorial duties, appears to have had the effect of throwing him with -ardent zeal into the practice of the medical profession. Erasmus had -availed himself of his skill, as is testified by a letter of his from -Paris in 1506, giving an account of his complaints, and lamenting the -want of his accustomed advice and prescriptions. His friends even -found that he was too devoted to his studies and practice, and begged -him to relax so far as to write to them occasionally. Probably the -economical disposition of Henry VII. prevented Linacre from reaping -too great a reward from his connection with the court, and he would -hail with hopeful feelings the accession of Henry VIII. with his more -liberal tendencies. His position was soon assured by his appointment -as one of the king’s physicians, apparently the principal one; and -his estimation at court was higher than his office alone would have -occasioned, in consequence of his learning and social qualities. His -other patients included Cardinal Wolsey, Archbishop Warham, and Fox, -Bishop of Winchester. - -About the commencement of Henry VIII.’s reign Linacre took up the -study of theology, which he had previously neglected in his zeal for -the revival of letters; and, in accordance with the practice of the -age, on becoming convinced of the importance of Christian doctrines, -he sought ordination. In October 1509 the Primate gave him the -rectory of Merstham, in Kent, which he held only a month, receiving -in December a prebendal stall in the cathedral of Wells, and in 1510 -the cure of Hawkhurst, in Kent, which he held till 1524. Still higher -preferment, however, awaited him, for he became canon and prebend -of Westminster in 1517. Numerous other appointments followed, which -we will not particularise. It does not appear certain that Linacre -gained any conspicuous distinction in theology, but his preferments -were rather acknowledgments of his general learning and merit, being -the most convenient form in which such recognition could at that time -be given. - -Linacre’s intercourse with Erasmus continued, but was somewhat -embarrassed by reason of the latter’s constant demand for pecuniary -aid. We gain a glimpse of the prudence which Linacre had attained, -from a letter of Erasmus in 1521, complaining of the unfavourable -reception of his applications for money, mentioning that though -his health was infirm, and though he possessed only six angels, he -had been advised to curtail his expenses and bear his poverty with -fortitude, rather than apply further to the Primate and Lord Mountjoy. - -We have now to recur to Linacre’s medical pursuits, which were not -interrupted to any serious extent by his clerical preferments. Early -in Henry VIII.’s reign, he read before the University of Oxford a -“Shagglyng” lecture, of which nothing but the name is preserved. -His renewed connection with Oxford occasioned it to be bruited -abroad that he had a special design of making benefactions to the -university, and the authorities bethought themselves that they had -somewhat neglected their distinguished alumnus. Consequently they -presented him with an address, in which they seem to have been -actuated by that kind of gratitude which consists in a lively sense -of favours to come. Part of it runs thus (translated from Latin), -showing how much dignity a learned university then possessed:— - - “To Thomas Linacre, the most skilful physician of the king.” - -“We are not a little troubled, excellent sir (to mention nothing -besides), and most learned of physicians, since till now we -have never greeted your pre-eminence by letter (let us confess -the truth), how we may readily devise the means by which we may -handsomely remove from ourselves the stain of ingratitude which we -have incurred, were we otherwise than assured that you are rather -displeased at the greater goodwill, nay the more ardent affection, -which your courtesy has entertained towards our university, -than at any negligence, not to say sluggishness of our own. How -excellent the mind, how liberal the devotion of him, who, whilst -he is the most eminent, is indisputably the most eloquent of his -contemporaries, towards the university of Oxford, is a secret -to none. How well you think of us, and how generously you have -resolved to provide for our interests, we have fully learned from -the report of our colleagues, who have discoursed with you.... But -that we have yet made no returns for your extraordinary bounty -towards us (to repay, alas! accords not with our poverty), which -we can only do with our whole hearts ... we give you truly our -fullest thanks, resting our chief hope in you, whose reputation -stands so high with the king’s majesty, that we may with good -reason commemorate you amongst the most active leaders and foremost -patrons of our academical host.” - - -The form which very many attempts to promote the progress of medicine -in that age took was that of translations of and commentaries on the -works of Galen, which in the original Greek were inaccessible to -nearly every one. - -After spending much time on executing his share of a scheme for -translating Aristotle’s entire works into Latin, in conjunction -with Grocyn and Thomas Latimer, and which unfortunately never was -published, Dr. Linacre betook himself to the congenial task of -translating into Latin Galen’s works, the first portion of which, -on the Preservation of Health, was published at Paris in 1517, and -dedicated to Henry VIII. The feelings which moved him to this act -arose, as he declares to the king, from finding himself wanting in -the means of vying with those who, allured by the renown and glory -of his name, daily contended in the number and variety of their -gifts. For this reason he knew nothing more becoming his duty or his -calling, than the dedication of some memorial of his studies, that -he might satisfactorily account for the leisure which, by the royal -indulgence, he sometimes stole from his appointed attendance, and at -the same time show that he not only spent the hours of office, but -even of recreation from its duties, in accomplishing, to the best of -his ability, what he thought would be acceptable to him. A copy of -this work on vellum, and magnificently embellished, was presented to -Wolsey, with an adulatory letter. These are still preserved in the -British Museum. - -This translation was followed by several others from Galen, including -the Method of Healing, 1519, dedicated to the king; the treatise on -Temperaments, 1521, dedicated to Leo X.; on the Natural Functions, -1523, dedicated to Warham; on the Pulse, 1523, dedicated to Wolsey. -Other treatises left complete at Linacre’s death were printed by -Pynson in 1524. Of the treatises on grammar and language, compiled by -Linacre, we need not here attempt to give an account. - -Most important of all Linacre’s achievements towards the advancement -of medicine was undoubtedly his securing the foundation of the -Royal College of Physicians. “The practice of medicine,” says his -biographer, Dr. J. N. Johnson, “when this scheme was carried into -effect, was scarcely elevated above that of the mechanical arts; -nor were the majority of its practitioners better educated than -mechanics. No society as yet existed, independent of the monastic and -ecclesiastical, which could at all be considered learned.” - -Linacre was at the sole expense of founding the college, for the -crown merely granted the letters patent. These were issued in 1518, -incorporating all physicians in London as one faculty and college, -with power to elect a president, to use a common seal, and to hold -lands not exceeding the annual value of £12. They were to hold -assemblies and govern their faculty in London and within seven miles, -all persons being interdicted from practice who did not hold their -license. Four censors were to be chosen yearly, for the correction -and government of physic and its professors, the examination of -medicines, and the punishment of offenders; and physicians were to be -exempt from attendance at assizes, inquests, and juries. The power -of correction by fine or imprisonment occasioned some embarrassment -at a subsequent period, for when some offenders were committed -by the college, the gaolers would not receive them into prison, -considering the college must charge itself with the custody of its -own culprits. To obviate this difficulty a statute (I Mary, sess. -2, c. 9) was passed, requiring gaolers to receive persons committed -by the college, and also enjoining all justices, mayors, &c., in -London to assist the President of the college in searching for faulty -apothecary wares. - -Various defects having been found in the original letters patent, -they were confirmed by a statute, 14 Henry VIII. (1523), which -provided among other things that no person except graduates of Oxford -or Cambridge should be permitted to practise physic throughout -England, unless examined and approved by the President of the College -of Physicians of London, and at least three other selected members. -Previous to Linacre’s time, the bishops or their vicars-general -were the persons who could grant licences to practise medicine (in -addition to the universities), and this power was long after this -retained by them, although they called in physicians to assist them -in determining to whom licences should be granted. - -As was but natural, Linacre was the first President of the college -which owed its existence to himself, and he held that office till his -death. His residence, the Stone House, in Knight-Rider Street, Paul’s -Wharf, convenient for access to the Court, then kept up at Bridewell, -was also the meeting-place of the college. The front portion of the -house, a parlour below, and a council room and library above, were -given to the college during his lifetime, and remained the property -of the college until 1860. - -In considering the import of Linacre’s endeavours to promote the -study of medicine at Oxford and Cambridge, it must be remembered that -the idea of establishing lectureships or professorships for public -instruction was quite a novel one in England, and that Fox, Bishop -of Winchester, appears to have been the first, in 1517, to endow -lectures in Greek and Latin. And Linacre unquestionably has the merit -of first applying such an idea to the improvement of instruction in -medicine. His foundations did not take full effect till 1524. Again, -we have a letter from the University of Oxford “to the renowned -Dr. Linacre,” couched in the most exaggerated style of panegyric, -thanking him for his proposition to endow “splendid lectures” in -medicine, lauding his “sober gravity and erudite judgment,” “his -greatness,” “the transcendency of his gifts.” The letters patent -founding the lectures were dated on the 12th of October, 1524, only -eight days before his death. Two of the lectureships were to be -founded at Oxford and one at Cambridge, and to be named Linacre’s -Lectures. Thirty pounds a year, a considerable sum then, was to be -devoted to this purpose by his trustees, out of the proceeds of two -manors at Newington, near Sittingbourne. But although the trustees, -Sir Thomas More, Tonstal, Stokesley, Tonstal’s successor, and John -Shelley, were men who might have been expected to pay attention to -Linacre’s desires, yet, probably owing to the busy occupations in -which they were engaged, they failed to carry them into full effect; -and it was not till the third year of Edward VI. that Tonstal, the -surviving trustee, assigned two of the lecturers to Merton College, -Oxford, and one to St. John’s College, Cambridge. Their office was -to expound publicly certain parts of Hippocrates or Galen. That his -lectures failed to become what Linacre would have wished, was due to -the common defect of that age in not foreseeing the revolutions in -learning that were to come, and not providing any elasticity in their -foundations. Thus these lectureships, which might have powerfully -aided the development of medicine, remained of little use till modern -times, when they have been placed on an improved footing. - -“It has been questioned,” writes his biographer, “whether he was -a better Latinist or Grecian, a better grammarian or physician, a -better scholar or man. That Linacre was of a great natural sagacity, -and of a discerning judgment in his own profession, we have the -concurrent testimony of the most knowing of his contemporaries. -In many cases which were considered desperate, his practice was -successful. In the case of his friend Lilye, he foretold his certain -death if he submitted to the opinion of some rash persons who advised -him and prevailed with him to have a malignant strumous tumour in his -hip cut off, and his prognostic was justified by the event. - -“In private life he had an utter detestation of everything that was -dishonourable; he was a faithful friend, and was valued and beloved -by all ranks in life. He showed a remarkable kindness to young -students in his profession; and those whom he found distinguished for -ingenuity, modesty, learning, good manners, or a desire to excel, he -assisted with his advice, his interest, and his purse.” - -Linacre had suffered for years from stone in the bladder, which had -limited his usefulness and the perfection of several of his designs; -and he died of ulceration of the bladder, on the 20th October, 1524, -having made his will four months previously. He was buried in St. -Paul’s Cathedral, in a spot chosen by himself, and expressly named -in his will. No memorial was erected over his grave until 1557, when -Dr. Caius, one of his successors, reared a monument with a suitable -inscription, ending with a favourite expression which he afterwards -placed on his own tomb, “Vivit post funera virtus.” - -The will of Dr. Linacre includes annuities to his two sisters, a -bequest to his brother, and other legacies. To his nieces Alice and -Margaret he bequeathed each a bed, Margaret to have the better; and -to William Dancaster, a priest who witnessed the will, a feather-bed -and two Irish blankets were left. The simplicity of these details -shows that a man of high distinction in many ways at that time -counted as important possessions articles now universal.[1] - - * * * * * - -JOHN KAYE or KEY, better known by the Latinised form CAIUS, which -retains nevertheless the pronunciation derived from the English -original, Keys, was born at Norwich on the 6th of October, 1510, -being thus fourteen years old at Linacre’s death. He entered -Gonville Hall, Cambridge, on the 12th September, 1529, and here he -early distinguished himself by translating from Greek into Latin two -treatises—one by Chrysostom—and by making an abridgment of Erasmus’s -“De Verâ Theologiâ.” He took the degree of B.A. in 1532-3, and was -appointed principal of Physwick Hostel on the 12th November, 1533, -being elected to a fellowship of Gonville Hall on December 6th -following. Proceeding M.A. in 1535, he is recorded as subscribing, -with the master and fellows of Gonville Hall, the submission to Henry -VIII.’s injunctions. - -In 1539 he went to Italy, and studied medicine at Padua under -Montanus, lodging in the same house with Vesalius, who became the -most distinguished anatomist of his time. In 1541 the degree of -Doctor of Medicine was conferred upon him at Padua, where in the -next year we find him delivering public lectures on the Greek text -of Aristotle, in conjunction with Realdus Columbus, the stipend for -which was provided by some Venetian nobles. The next year, 1543, he -largely occupied in visiting all the most celebrated libraries of -Italy, collating manuscripts, principally with a view to publishing -correct editions of Galen and Celsus. - -Returning to England after further travels in France and Germany, -he was incorporated M.D. at Cambridge, and practised apparently at -Cambridge, Norwich, and Shrewsbury, with such success that he was -appointed physician to Edward VI., an appointment he continued to -hold under Queens Mary and Elizabeth. On the 22d December, 1547, -he was admitted a Fellow of the College of Physicians, and in 1550 -became an Elect, in 1552 Censor. In the latter year appeared his -English treatise on the Sweating Sickness, which had broken out at -Shrewsbury in 1551. This was afterwards enlarged and published in -Latin. - -“The Boke or Counseill against the Sweatyng Sicknesse,” was dedicated -by Dr. Caius to William, Earl of Pembroke. The dedication begins -thus: “In the fearful time of the sweat, many resorted unto me for -counsel, among whom some being my friends and acquaintance, desired -me to write unto them some little counsel how to govern themselves -therein.... At whose request at that time, I wrote divers counsels -so shortly as I could for the present necessity, which they both -used and did give abroad to many others, and further appointed in -myself to fulfil the other part of their honest request for the time -to come. The which the better to execute and bring to pass, I spared -not to go to all those that sent for me, both poor and rich, day and -night. And that not only to do them that ease that I could, and to -instruct them for their recovery; but to note also thoroughly the -cases and circumstances of the disease in divers persons, and to -understand the nature and causes of the same fully, for so much as -might be.” - -A certain conceit is evident throughout the brief treatise, as when -he describes his early translations from Latin into English, and -partially apologises for writing in English, then gives an account -of the life and writings of his friend, William Framingham, a -fellow-townsman of his who died young. The description of the disease -which he gives indicates a very acute rheumatic affection, inasmuch -as perspirations of disagreeable odour, acute pains in the limbs, -delirium, quick and irritable pulse, &c., were prominent among them. - -It is notable how little medical science was progressing beyond -Galenic principles. Dr. Caius says, “This disease is not a sweat -only, but a fever in the spirits by putrefaction venomous, with a -fight, travail, and labour of nature against the infection received -in the spirits, whereupon by chance followeth a sweat, or issueth an -humour, compelled by nature, as also chanceth in other sicknesses -which consist in humours.” Still, a glimpse of truth is shown in -the view expressed that “our bodies can not suffer anything or hurt -by corrupt and infective causes, except there be in them a certain -matter prepared, apt and like to receive it, else if one were sick, -all should be sick.” - -Dr. Caius showed himself notably before his age also in his censures -of excess in eating and drinking, his commendation of the bath, and -of muscular exercise. His advice to his readers to have recourse -to a good physician, and to be at least as good to their bodies -as to their hose or their shoes, is followed by a picture of the -army of quacks who in default of science preyed upon the masses. -“Simple-women, carpenters, pewterers, braziers, soapball-sellers, -apothecaries, avaunters themselves to come from Pole, -Constantinople, Italy, Almaine, Spain, France, Greece, Turkey, India, -Egypt or Jury; from the service of emperors, kings, and queens, -promising help of all diseases, yea incurable, with one or two -drinks, by drinks of great and high prices, as though they were made -of the sun, moon, or stars, by blessings and blowings, hypocritical -prayings, and foolish smokings of shirts, smocks, and kerchiefs, with -such others, their phantasies and mockeries, meaning nothing else but -to abuse your light belief, and scorn you behind your backs, with -their medicines (so filthy, that I am ashamed to name them), for your -single wit and simple belief, in trusting them most, which you know -not at all, and understand least; like to them which think far fowls -have fair feathers, although they be never so evil favoured and foul; -as though there could not be so cunning an Englishman, as a foolish -running stranger, or so perfect health by honest learning, as by -deceitful ignorance.” From all which the reader may judge whether -somewhat similar remarks might not be applicable to the last century, -and even to a great part of the present, in its credulity of the -efficacy of quack medicines and the powers of audacious empirics. - -In 1555 Dr. Caius was elected President of the College of Physicians, -an office which he continued to hold until 1561. He applied himself -with devoted energy to promoting the interests of the college, -commencing to record its annals, till then unpreserved, procuring -the copying and binding in grand style of the college statutes, -designing the insignia, the cushion of crimson velvet edged with -gold on which the statutes were laid, the silver staff ornamented -with the college arms borne by the President, to remind him, -according to Caius, by its material (silver), to govern with patience -and courtesy, and by its symbols (the serpents), with judgment -and wisdom. His zeal further exhibited itself in protecting the -privileges of the college, as when he appeared successfully, in -Elizabeth’s reign, against the barber surgeons, who were claiming the -right to prescribe medicines for internal administration in cases -where their operative assistance was called in. - -One of the most striking innovations which Dr. Caius introduced into -this country was unquestionably the practice of dissection of the -human body. He had actually taught practical anatomy in the Barber -Surgeons’ Hall, not long after his return from Italy; and he further -provided for the development of that science by procuring from Queen -Elizabeth, about 1564, a grant to the College of Physicians to take -annually the bodies of two criminals after execution, for dissection, -and the fellows were required, under penalty of a fine for refusing, -to give demonstrations and lectures on anatomy in turn. He left a -fund for defraying the expenses attending these dissections. - -Dr. Caius had never wavered in his attachment to learning, and -to his alma mater, Cambridge. Notwithstanding his numerous public -interests, the court, the college, and private practice, he developed -fully and had the pleasure of carrying into execution a design for -improving and enlarging Gonville Hall, which under his auspices -became a college, with the addition of his name to its title. He -added to its resources very considerably, founded three fellowships -and twenty scholarships, and enlarged it by building an entirely -new court, known as Caius Court. Together with this enlargement he -pleased his taste by erecting three new gates, two on its external -boundaries, and one within it. The first, severely simple, was -inscribed “Humilitatis;” the second, more lofty, and surmounted -by several rooms, was on one side inscribed “Virtutis,” on the -other “Jo. Caius posuit Sapientiæ.” The last, smaller, but highly -decorated, leading to the Senate House and the Schools, bore the -word “Honoris;” and thus the worthy doctor signified that by way of -humility we attain to virtue and honour. - -By the authority of letters patent granted by Philip and Mary, 4th -September, 1557, Dr. Caius was authorised to frame new statutes -for Gonville and Caius College. It was not till 1558 that he -was incorporated M.D. at Cambridge, and the next January he -was reluctantly induced to accept the dignity of master of the -college, which then fell vacant. He made this a further occasion of -benefaction by refusing the stipend and emoluments of the office, -which he held till one month before his death. For one year he -resigned the presidency of the College of Physicians, that he might -more uninterruptedly superintend the erection of his new court at -Cambridge; but he returned to the presidency for 1562-3, and again in -1571. - -A man of Dr. Caius’s incessant activity and zeal for his own opinions -could not hope to remain without enemies. In 1565 three fellows of -his college, whom he had expelled, charged him with atheism and -opposition to professors of the Gospel. His maintenance of his -post at court under sovereigns of opposite religious professions, -notwithstanding his attachment to Romanism, was made a subject of -accusation of unsteadiness in his religious principles. Fuller -remarks that “his being a reputed papist was no great crime to such -who consider the time when he was born, and foreign places wherein -he was bred. However, this I dare say in his just defence: he never -mentioneth Protestants but with due respect, and sometimes doth -occasionally condemn the superstitious credulity of popish miracles.” -Nevertheless, he retained in his college certain books and vestments -formerly used in the Roman Catholic service, and Bishop Sandys -having written to the vice-chancellor, Dr. Byng, complaining of -this, they were collected and burnt in 1572 (Dec. 13), much to Dr. -Caius’s vexation, who considered Dr. Byng’s action most arbitrary, -and inveighed strongly against the conduct of certain fellows of his -college in the matter. - -Previous to this time, in 1570, Dr. Caius had published an account -of British dogs, which is the earliest scientific description of the -kind of dogs then occurring in this country. It had been the result -of a request by the celebrated naturalist, Gesner, whose death in -1565 prevented its earlier publication. Numerous other accounts of -British natural history had been furnished by Dr. Caius to Gesner, -and were inserted in his works. To give an idea of our doctor’s -ability in descriptive natural history, we subjoin his account “Of -the dog called a Bloodhound.” - -“The greater sort which serve to hunt, having lips of a large size, -and ears of no small length, do not only chase the beast while it -liveth, but being dead also by any manner of casualty, make recourse -to the place where it lieth, having in this point an assured and -infallible guide, namely the scent and savour of the blood sprinkled -here and there upon the ground. For whether the beast being wounded, -doth notwithstanding enjoy life, and escapeth the hands of the -huntsman, or whether the said beast being slain is conveyed cleanly -out of the park (so that there be some signification of blood shed), -these dogs with no less facility and easiness than avidity and -greediness, can disclose and bewray the same by smelling, applying -to their pursuit agility and nimbleness without tediousness. And -albeit peradventure it may chance that a piece of flesh be subtilly -stolen and cunningly conveyed away with such provisos and precaveats -as thereby all appearance of blood is either prevented, excluded, -or concealed, yet these kind of dogs by a certain direction of an -inward assured notice and privy mark, pursue the deed-doers, through -long lanes, crooked reaches, and weary ways, without wandering awry -out of the limits of the land whereon those desperate purloiners -prepared their speedy passage. Yea, the nature of these dogs is such, -and so effectual is their foresight, that they can bewray, separate, -and pick them out from among an infinite multitude and an innumerable -company—creep they never so far into the thickest throng, they will -find him out notwithstanding he lie hidden in wild woods, in close -and overgrown groves, and lurk in hollow holes apt to harbour such -ungracious guests. Moreover, although they should pass over the -water, thinking thereby to avoid the pursuit of the hounds, yet will -not these dogs give over their attempt, but presuming to swim through -the stream, persevere in their pursuit, and when they be arrived and -gotten the furthen bank, they hunt up and down, to and fro run they, -from place to place shift they, until they have attained to that plot -of ground where they passed over.” - -This treatise was so highly esteemed by Pennant that he inserted it -in his British Zoology; and it was reprinted in a very neat form in -1880.[2] - -We need not particularise the very numerous editions and translations -from Galen, Celsus, Hippocrates, which Dr. Caius published or left -in manuscript. His own original medical works were the Method of -Healing, based however upon Galen and Montanus, and the account of -the sweating sickness, concerning which Hecker remarks, “Although, -judged according to a modern standard, it is far from satisfactory, -yet it contains an abundance of valuable matter, and proves its -author to be a good observer.”[3] - -Dr. Caius is credited with having predicted the very day of his -death. He had his own grave prepared in Caius College Chapel, on the -2d, 3d, and 4th of July, 1573, and died at his London house on the -29th of the same month, aged sixty-three. His body being removed -to Cambridge as he had directed, the master and fellows of his -college and the principal members of the university in procession -met it at Trumpington. The inscription on his tomb in Caius Chapel -is characteristic of the man, in whose eyes his own works and -achievements, undoubtedly considerable, loomed large. “Vivit post -funera virtus,” as he had recorded on Linacre’s monument. “Fui -Caius,” he adds, as a pithy if egotistic comment. - - * * * * * - -Among other notable men of the sixteenth century must be mentioned -WILLIAM GILBERT, M.D., a native of Colchester, who was born in 1540, -and became senior fellow of St. John’s College, Cambridge, in 1569. -Having settled in London in 1573, his distinction was such that he -became physician to Queen Elizabeth. But he was one of the first -of the illustrious series of English physicians who employed their -leisure in philosophical research. By his book, “On the Magnet, on -Magnetic Bodies, and the Great Magnet the Earth,” published in 1600, -he had the good fortune to become the stimulator of Galileo himself -to the study of magnetism, and that master described him as “great to -a degree which might be envied.” Queen Elizabeth added to her titles -to regard by conferring a pension on Gilbert, which aided him in -prosecuting his experiments. Gilbert was in fact a great originator -in science, having discovered the earth’s magnetism, and that to this -is due both the direction of the magnetic needle north and south, -and the variation and dipping of the needle. Thus he stands as the -discoverer of the facts on which the science of magnetism was based. -He is said to have been no less exact in chemistry, but unfortunately -nothing of his is extant on that subject. Fuller says of him in the -“Worthies”—“Mahomet’s tomb at Mecca is said strangely to hang up, -attracted by some invisible loadstone; but the memory of this doctor -will never fall to the ground, which his incomparable book, ‘_De -Magnete_,’ will support to eternity.” Gilbert died in 1603, shortly -after being appointed physician to James I. - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[1] Life of Thomas Linacre. By J. Noble Johnson, M.D. London, 1835. - -[2] “Of Englishe Dogges:” 170 Strand, W.C. - -[3] “Epidemics of the Middle Ages.” Sydenham Soc. Publ. London 1844. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -_WILLIAM HARVEY AND THE CIRCULATION OF THE BLOOD._ - - “Oft have I seen a timely-parted ghost, - Of ashy semblance, meagre, pale, and bloodless, - Being all descended to the labouring heart, - Who in the conflict that he holds with death, - Attracts the same for aidance ’gainst the enemy; - Which with the heart there cools, and ne’er returneth - To blush and beautify the cheek again.” - -If the man who discovered a new material world deserves immortality, -equally meritorious is he who revealed a new world of activity, and -promulgated the first true conception of the ceaseless round of vital -processes. As Dr. Parkes says in his Harveian Oration, 1876, “When -any one examines into this discovery of Harvey’s, and gradually -recognises its extraordinary importance, he cannot but be seized with -an urgent wish to know how the mind which solved so great a problem -was constituted; how it worked and how it reached, not merely the -probability, but the certainty, of a grand natural law.... There -was no accident about it—no help from what we call chance; it was -worked out and thought out, point after point, until all was clear as -sunshine in midsummer. Nor had it been anticipated.” - -WILLIAM HARVEY, eldest son of Thomas Harvey and Joan Halke, was -born at Folkestone in Kent, on the 1st of April, 1578, and that -his parents were in easy circumstances may be judged by the fact -that five of his brothers became substantial London merchants. Of -his mother it is recorded on her monumental tablet that she was “a -careful, tender-hearted mother, dear to her husband, reverenced of -her children, beloved of her neighbours.” Her eldest son, after -some years’ education at Canterbury, was entered at Gonville and -Caius College in 1593, where he remained till 1597, when he left the -university with the B.A. degree, and betook himself to Padua. This -renowned university then boasted among its professors Fabricius, the -anatomist, whose influence upon Harvey was evidently remarkable. -After five years, Harvey obtained his doctorate in medicine, couched -in terms of the utmost praise of his astonishing ability, memory, -and knowledge, and returned to England. He was admitted to the same -degree at Cambridge, and settled in practice in London, marrying the -daughter of Dr. Launcelot Browne in his twenty-sixth year—a union -which proved childless. - -Having become a candidate for the Fellowship of the College of -Physicians in 1604, he was admitted in 1607 after due probation; and -we find him in 1609 seeking the reversion of the physiciancy to St. -Bartholomew’s Hospital, gaining the king’s letters recommendatory, -and producing such testimonials from the President of the College of -Physicians and others that he was chosen before the vacancy occurred, -and on the death of Dr. Wilkinson was appointed to the office, -October 14, 1609. - -Harvey now rapidly advanced in general favour as a physician, and in -1615 was appointed Lumleian Lecturer at the College of Physicians, -an office then held for life. His first lectures were given in April -1616, and in this and subsequent years he gradually unfolded the -novel views on the heart and the circulation of the blood which he -was acquiring, and which he published in 1628. The novelty of his -views does not, however, consist in the idea that the blood actually -moves in the vessels. This was known before, and Shakespeare gives -expression to a current conception in the passage at the head of -this chapter. Servetus, in 1553,[4] had asserted that the blood -finds access from the right side of the heart to the left through -the lungs, thus explaining the intermixture in the heart of the two -kinds of blood appropriate to arteries and veins respectively. For -a long time the partition between the ventricles was believed to be -perforated like a sieve, so that a mixture of venous and arterial -blood could take place. But this had been completely disproved by -Berengarius and Vesalius. Consequently the two kinds of blood, -according to this view, after meeting in the head, thorax, and -abdomen, returned to the heart by the way they came, for a fresh -supply of the exhausted or enfeebled spirits on which the principal -functions of the body depended. Servetus, it is true, asserts -a communication between the pulmonary artery and veins; but he -particularly declares that “the vital spirit has its origin in the -left ventricle, the lungs assisting especially in its generation,” -and that “it is engendered from the mixture that takes place in the -lungs of the inspired air with the elaborated subtile blood which the -right ventricle of the heart communicates to the left.” The extent of -his knowledge is further shown by his statement that “the blood is -mixed in the pulmonary vein with the inspired air, and by the act of -expiration is purified from fuliginous vapours, when having become -the fit recipient of the vital spirit, it is at length attracted by -the diastole.” Still very great credit is due to the man who first -declared that “the crimson colour is imparted to the spirituous blood -by the lungs, not the heart.” - -Servetus was, however, ignorant of the force by which the blood is -impelled into the arteries, and the contractile functions of the -heart were unknown. The ventricle was believed to dilate from some -undiscovered cause, and thus to suck in the purified “spiritus -vitalis.” But Servetus’s explanation, whatever it was worth, occurred -in a theological work, the issue of which led to the author’s death -at Calvin’s persecuting hands, and the work remained unknown—for -Calvin carefully burnt every copy possible—until 1694, when Sir Henry -Wotton disinterred it. - -Realdus Columbus, the associate of Dr. Caius at Padua, had in 1559 -published a treatise containing some advanced views, showing that the -blood once having entered the right ventricle from the vena cava, -cannot return in consequence of the opposition of the tricuspid -valves, and he further perceived the effect of the pulmonary valves; -but he still held the idea that the blood had to be converted in -the lungs into a kind of spirit, and looked upon the liver as the -fountain-head of the blood. Finally, he denied the muscular structure -of the heart. - -Cæsalpinus added to this some more complete idea of the greater -circulation, but he knew nothing of the valves in the veins, and held -to the belief that there were two kinds of blood, one for the growth, -another for the nourishment of the body. He imagined that it was only -during sleep that the veins become distended while the pulsations -of the arteries become moderated. He had no idea of the connection -between the emptying of the arteries and the filling of the veins, -nor of the heart being the cause of the blood’s movement. - -Fabricius, Harvey’s teacher of anatomy, had made such a distinct step -in advance in discovering the valves of the veins and the effect -they must have, that it is quite astonishing that he should not have -proceeded farther. But the fact is, that without the microscope as -developed in after years,[5] it was impossible to solve a multitude -of questions satisfactorily, and we may rather marvel that Harvey was -able to achieve so much with the means at his disposal. The principal -means he employed to this end was undoubtedly the vivisection of -animals. - -Chapter i. of his celebrated treatise on the Motion of the Heart -and the Blood (Frankfort, 1628) begins emphatically, “When I first -gave my mind to vivisections, as a means of discovering the motions -and uses of the heart, and sought to discover these from actual -inspection, and not from the writings of others, I found the task so -truly arduous, so full of difficulties, that I was almost tempted to -think, with Fracastorius, that the motion of the heart was only to be -comprehended by God.[6] - -“At length, and by using greater and daily diligence, having frequent -recourse to vivisections, employing a variety of animals for the -purpose, ... I thought ... that I had discovered what I so much -desired, with the motion and the use of the heart and arteries.... - -“These views, as usual, pleased some more, others less; some chid -and calumniated me, and laid it to me as a crime that I had dared -to depart from the precepts and opinions of all anatomists.... At -length, yielding to the requests of my friends, that all might be -made participators in my labours, and partly moved by the envy of -others, who, receiving my views with uncandid minds and understanding -them indifferently, have essayed to traduce me publicly, I have been -moved to commit these things to the press.... Finally, if any use or -benefit to this department of the republic of letters should accrue -from my labours, it will perhaps be allowed that I have not lived -idly, and, as the old man in the comedy says:— - - ‘For never yet hath any one attained - To such perfection, but that time, and place, - And use, have brought addition to his knowledge; - Or made correction, or admonished him, - That he was ignorant of much which he - Had thought he knew; or led him to reject - What he had once esteemed of highest price.’ - -“So will it, perchance, be found with reference to the heart at this -time; or others, at least, starting from hence, the way pointed out -to them, advancing under the guidance of a happier genius, may make -occasion to proceed more fortunately, and to inquire more accurately.” - -In the second chapter, after a vivid description of the behaviour of -the heart, he thus declares its muscular nature. “The motion of the -heart consists in a certain universal tension—both contraction in -the line of its fibres, and constriction in every sense. It becomes -erect, hard, and of diminished size during its action; the motion is -plainly of the same nature as that of the muscles when they contract -in the line of their sinews and fibres; for the muscles, when in -action, acquire vigour and tenseness, and from soft become hard, -prominent, and thickened: in the same manner the heart.”... - -“These things, therefore, happen together or at the same instant: -the tension of the heart, the pulse of its apex, which is felt -externally by its striking against the chest, the thickening of its -parietes, and the forcible expulsion of the blood it contains by the -constriction of its ventricles.” - -In further chapters he establishes separately, and in a masterly -manner, the facts that the pulse in the arteries depends on the -contraction of the ventricles; that when the left ventricle ceases -to contract, the pulse in the arteries also ceases; that the two -auricles contract together, and also the two ventricles together, -but the ventricles following the auricles in a certain rhythm; that -the heart accomplishes a transfusion of the blood from the veins to -the arteries; and that the blood sent into the lungs from the right -ventricle passes through the porous structure of the lungs and back -to the left ventricle. - -In his eighth chapter, Harvey feels himself to be bringing forward -considerations of so novel a character, that “I tremble,” he says, -“lest I have mankind at large for my enemies, so much doth wont and -custom, that become as another nature, and doctrine once sown and -that hath struck deep root, and respect for antiquity influence all -men: _still the die is cast, and my trust is in my love of truth, -and the candour that inheres in cultivated minds_.” He found it -impossible to account for the constant influx of blood into the -arteries, and the return of blood to the heart, unless there was “a -motion, as it were, in a circle.” And he shows by calculations of -the quantity passing through the heart in an hour, that it is much -more than the whole body contains, and that there is no way except -by communications taking place from arteries to veins in every part -of the body. Finally, he clearly shows how the valves in the veins -promote the return of blood to the heart. - -Throughout the whole of this treatise considerations from comparative -anatomy, from the phenomena of human diseases, and from natural -philosophy, are thickly interspersed, and imagery of the most -suggestive character is called into requisition; the whole forming -a treatise that every scientific man might well read, and that -no doctor should consider himself fully educated without having -attentively perused. In a subsequent letter to John Riolan the -younger, Professor of Anatomy in the University of Paris, Harvey lays -down—in opposition to those who repudiate the circulation because -they cannot see the efficient nor final cause of it, and who exclaim, -_Cui bono?_—the fundamental scientific axiom, “Our first duty is to -inquire whether the thing be or not, before asking wherefore it is.” -Again, “He who truly desires to be informed of the question in hand, -and whether the facts alleged be sensible, visible, or not, must -be held bound, either to look for himself, or to take on trust the -conclusions to which they have come who have looked; and indeed there -is no higher method of attaining to assurance and certainty.” - -Everything that Harvey wrote shows him to have been pre-eminently an -example of the scientific mind, that which submits everything to the -test of experiment and observation. Anatomy he professed to learn and -teach, not from books, but from dissections, not from the positions -of philosophers, but from the fabric of Nature. In the introduction -to his Treatise on Generation he praises the “more excellent way” -of those “who, following the traces of nature with their own eyes, -pursued her through devious but most assured ways till they reached -her in the citadel of truth. And truly in such pursuits,” he goes -on, “it is sweet not merely to toil, but even to grow weary, when -the pains of discovering are amply compensated by the pleasures -of discovery. Eager for novelty, we are wont to travel far into -unknown countries, that with our own eyes we may witness what we -have heard reported as having been seen by others, where, however, -we for the most part find that the presence lessens the repute. It -were disgraceful, therefore, with this most spacious and admirable -realm of nature before us, and where the reward ever exceeds the -promise, did we take the reports of others upon trust, and go on -coining crude problems out of these, and on them hanging knotty and -captious and petty disputations. Nature is herself to be addressed; -the paths she shows us are to be boldly trodden; for thus, and whilst -we consult our proper senses, from inferior advancing to superior -levels, shall we penetrate at length into the heart of her mystery.” - -True and scientific as the Treatise on the Heart and the Circulation -was, or rather because it was so true and scientific, its -publication gave a decided and severe check to Harvey’s professional -prosperity. It was believed by the vulgar, says Aubrey, that he was -crack-brained. Writing many years after the publication, Aubrey says -that though he was allowed to be an excellent anatomist, nobody -admired his therapeutic methods. It was said by practitioners that -they could not tell by his prescriptions what he aimed at. Yet he -continued well in favour with the court, and with numerous persons -of distinction. Having become Physician Extraordinary to James I. -in 1618 or earlier, he was in 1623 promised the reversion of the -office of Physician in Ordinary when a vacancy should occur. But his -accession to this post only took place in 1630 under Charles I.[7] - -Harvey became Treasurer of the College of Physicians in 1628, but -resigned this office and also procured the appointment of a deputy -at St. Bartholomew’s Hospital in 1630, when he was commanded by -the King to attend the young Duke of Lennox in his travels on the -Continent. Having returned from this expedition, in 1632 he was sworn -in Physician in Ordinary for his Majesty’s household, and in 1639 -we find a letter in the Lord Steward’s office, giving orders for -settling a diet of three dishes of meat a meal with all incidents -thereunto belonging upon Dr. Harvey. But later on, in 1640, the -King when at York makes another arrangement, devoting £200 a year -to Dr. Harvey, the three dishes of meat probably not having been -readily forthcoming just then. In 1632-3 a deputy had again to be -appointed at St. Bartholomew’s; in 1636 he was required to accompany -the Earl of Arundel on his embassy to the Emperor of Germany. This -gave him an opportunity of personally explaining the circulation to -various eminent physicians in the principal German cities. On one -of these occasions, at Nuremberg, we find it recorded that Harvey -gave a public demonstration of the circulation, which satisfied all -except Caspar Hofmann.[8] Returning to England, Harvey accompanied -Charles I. in his expeditions, such as that to Scotland in 1639; -and we may remark that, being in such close proximity to the royal -person, he contrived very skilfully not to become involved in court -intrigues, his best protection being his devotion to his medical and -physiological investigations.[9] Even when war had broken out, Harvey -became in no way obnoxious to the Parliament, for he tells us himself -that he attended the King not only with the consent but by the desire -of Parliament. In this way Harvey was present on the very field at -the battle of Edgehill. - -“During the fight,” says Aubrey, “the Prince and Duke of York were -committed to his care. He told me that he withdrew with them under -a hedge, and took out of his pocket a book and read. But he had not -read very long before a bullet of a great gun grazed on the ground -near him, which made him remove his station.” We cannot but admire -the coolness and serenity of mind which could thus occupy itself with -reading in the midst of carnage, having evidently no sort of belief -in, or vocation for, the employment of force in the arbitrament -between opposing opinions. Accompanying Charles to Oxford, he found -congenial society, and was incorporated Doctor of Medicine on the -7th December, 1642. “I first saw him at Oxford,” says Aubrey, “1642, -after Edgehill fight; but was then too young to be acquainted with -so great a doctor. I remember he came several times to our college -(Trinity) to George Bathurst, B.D., who had a hen to hatch eggs in -his chamber, which they opened daily to see the progress and way of -generation.” - -Thus we see Harvey continuing engaged in that study of the mysteries -of reproduction and development to which he devoted so many years and -so many toils. He must have commenced his studies on this subject at -least early in Charles’s reign. - -In 1645, while the King and his physician still remained at Oxford, -Sir Nathaniel Brent having quitted Merton College, of which he was -Warden, and taken the Covenant, Harvey was appointed Warden in his -place by virtue of a royal mandate. He had indeed lost more than -his time in following the royal fortunes, and deserved any reward -the King could bestow upon him. At the close of the sixty-eighth -section of his treatise on Generation Harvey says, “Let gentle minds -forgive me if, recalling the irreparable injuries I have suffered, -I here give vent to a sigh. This is the cause of my sorrow: whilst -in attendance on his Majesty during our late troubles and more than -civil wars, not only with the permission but by the command of the -Parliament, certain rapacious hands stripped not only my house of all -its furniture, but what is subject of far greater regret with me, my -enemies abstracted from my museum the fruits of many years of toil. -Whence it has come to pass that many observations, particularly on -the generation of insects, have perished, with detriment, I venture -to say, to the republic of letters.”[10] - -The Wardenship of Merton was not long Dr. Harvey’s, for when Oxford -surrendered to the Parliamentary forces in July 1646, he quitted -the university and returned to London, and Sir Nathaniel Brent was -reinstated in his former position. Nothing has been ascertained of -the reason for Harvey’s cessation of personal attendance on the King -at this period, but it is certain that he took refuge in the homes -of his brothers, each of whom, whether in the City, at Lambeth, at -Roehampton, or at Combe, kept special apartments reserved for him. -It is most pleasing, indeed, to note the great brotherly affection -existing in this family. The earliest of them to die, Thomas Harvey, -in 1622, has the following inscription on his monumental tablet. -“As in a Sheaf of Arrows. _Vis unita fortior._ The Band of Love -the Uniter of Brethren.” Thus, leaving his financial concerns in -charge of his brother Eliab, William devoted himself, at the age of -sixty-eight, more fully to his researches on Generation, which his -friend Dr. Ent extracted from him at Christmas 1650. - -Dr. Ent, addressing the President and Fellows of the College of -Physicians, writes an introduction to this work, in which he gives -us a pleasing view of Harvey in his retirement. He says: “Harassed -with anxious, and in the end not much availing cares, about Christmas -last, I sought to rid my spirit of the cloud which oppressed it by -a visit to that great man, the chief honour and ornament of our -college, Dr. William Harvey, then dwelling not far from the city. I -found him, Democritus like, busy with the study of natural things, -his countenance cheerful, his mind serene, embracing all within -its sphere. I forthwith saluted him, and asked if all were well -with him. ‘How can it,’ said he, ‘while the Commonwealth is full of -distractions, and I myself am still in the open sea? And truly,’ he -continued, ‘did I not find solace in my studies, and a balm for my -spirit in the memory of my observations of former years, I should -feel little desire for longer life. But so it has been, that this -life of obscurity, this vacation from public business, which causes -tedium and disgust to so many, has proved a sovereign remedy to me.’” -An extended conversation is recorded, in which Harvey discourses -in his wisest vein on the value of the interrogation of nature in -every possible way. Dr. Ent informed him that the learned world were -eagerly looking for his further experiments. Harvey rejoined, “You -know full well what a storm my former lucubrations raised. Much -better is it oftentimes to grow wise at home and in private, than by -publishing what you have amassed with infinite labour, to stir up -tempests that may rob you of peace and quiet for the rest of your -days.” He at last produced the treatise on generation of animals, -and Dr. Ent urging him to publish it both in consideration of his -own fame, and the public benefit, and offering to see it through -the press, the author consented to its publication at once or at -some future time. Dr. Ent was exultant, feeling, like another Jason, -laden with the golden fleece. “Our Harvey,” he says, “rather seems as -though discovery were natural to him, a thing of ease and of course, -a matter of ordinary business; though he may nevertheless have -expended infinite labour and study on his works. And we have evidence -of his singular candour in this, that he never hostilely attacks any -previous writer, but ever courteously sets down and comments upon the -opinions of each; and indeed he is wont to say, that it is argument -of an indifferent cause when it is contended for with violence and -distemper, and that truth scarce wants an advocate.” - -This great work, published in 1651, begins by describing the hen’s -egg and its development, the doctrine being enunciated that all -animals as well as plants are produced from ova. Incidentally, as -well as subsequently, observations of great merit and value on -reproduction in all kinds of animals are given, and it is clearly -shown that instead of containing, from the first, excessively -minute but complete animals, eggs at first include extremely simple -structures, which by successive and gradual changes come to be like -the adults from which they have sprung. It is true that Harvey, with -Aristotle, believed that the germs of lower animals could arise out -of non-living matter; but it is only in the most recent days that -the most elaborate microscopical investigations seem finally to have -disposed of this view. The doctrine that the simply constructed germ -grows by feeding on non-living matter, converting it into living -matter, and gradually transforming it into the form characterising -the parent, was a great innovation in Harvey’s age, and it hung fire -till Caspar Wolff, in 1759, securely established it. But this has -remained till the present century to be made fruitful. - -Throughout Harvey’s treatise it is evident how greatly the lack -of powers such as those of the microscope crippled the entire -investigation, although it is truly wonderful how much was -accomplished without its aid. Incidental remarks show the acute mind -everywhere tending towards sound procedure, as in tying the main -artery of a tumour he wished to destroy; arriving on the brink of -a discovery even when its full perception did not come, as when in -regard to the lungs he says, “Air is given neither for the cooling -nor the nutrition of animals,” contrary to the prevailing notion. But -the absence of chemical knowledge in that age prevented his going -farther. - -His published works only represent a portion of Harvey’s life-work. -We find allusions to his “Medical Observations” and “Medical -Anatomy,” which, if written, were probably destroyed in the College -of Physicians at the Great Fire. In one place Harvey states that in -his medical anatomy he meant, “from the many dissections he had made -of the bodies of persons worn out by serious and strange affections, -to relate how and in what way the internal organs were changed in -their situation, size, structure, figure, consistency, and other -sensible qualities, from their natural forms and appearances, such -as they are usually described by anatomists, and in what various -and remarkable ways they were affected. For even as the dissection -of healthy and well-constituted bodies contributes essentially to -the advancement of philosophy and sound physiology, so does the -inspection of diseased and cachectic subjects powerfully assist -philosophical pathology.” Thus it appears that, had we possessed -Harvey’s pathological observations, he would also have merited the -title of founder of pathology. - -About the time of the publication of the Treatise on Generation, -Harvey’s work on the Heart and Circulation was gaining continued and -widespread adhesion on the Continent. In Italy, Trullius, a Roman -professor; in France, John Pecquet of Dieppe; in Leyden, Thomas -Bartholin, were occupied in promulgating Harvey’s views. A notable -convert was Plempius of Louvain, who, having given himself up to the -refutation of Harvey, found himself compelled to retract when he -himself made some experiments on living dogs. - -Harvey was constantly solicitous for the welfare of the College -of Physicians, before which he continued to deliver the Lumleian -Lectures up to 1656. At an extraordinary meeting held on 4th July, -1651, Dr. Prujean, the President, read to the Fellows the following -anonymous proposal: “If I can procure one that will build us a -library, and a repository for simples and rarities, such a one as -shall be suitable and honourable to the college, will you assent -to have it done or no?” The offer was of course unanimously and -gratefully accepted, but it does not appear at what period it -transpired that Harvey was the munificent donor. However, on 22d -December, 1652, the college decreed a statue to him, which was -executed in his doctor’s cap and gown, inscribed “Viro monumentis -suis immortali.” It was not, however, till the 2d of February, -1653-4, that the new building was opened, consisting, as Aubrey -tells us, of a noble building of Roman architecture (of rustic work -with Corinthian pilasters), comprising a great parlour, a kind of -convocation-room for the Fellows to meet in below, and a library -above. Harvey was present on the opening occasion, having provided a -handsome entertainment, and formally handed over the title-deeds and -entire interest in the building in a speech of the utmost benevolence -and goodwill. He had contributed not merely the building, but also a -considerable library, and many surgical instruments and objects of -interest to the museum. - -On the 30th September, 1654, Harvey was elected in his absence to the -presidency of the college, which, however, he declined on the next -day, owing to his age and growing infirmities, and recommending the -continuance in office of Dr. Prujean, who nominated him as one of the -council, which office he did not refuse. He continued to lecture, -although his strength was diminished by severe attacks of gout, but -in July 1656 he resigned his lectureship. In taking leave of the -college, at a grand banquet which he gave, he presented it with his -patrimonial estate at Burmarsh in Kent. One special provision settled -a salary for a librarian, and another established what has since been -known as the Harveian Oration, delivered yearly in commemoration of -benefactors to the college, and now extended to those who have added -to medical science during the year. - -The long and truly fortunate career of Harvey—for fortunate he must -be deemed, who, like Darwin, having enunciated an epoch-making -discovery, lived to see it inculcated as a canon—was now drawing to -a close. In several of his later letters he expresses his feelings -of infirmity. Writing in 1655 to Dr. Horst, at Hesse-Darmstadt, he -speaks of “advanced age, which unfits us for the investigation of -novel subtleties, and the mind which inclines to repose after the -fatigues of lengthened labours.” Later, on the 24th April, 1657, -writing to Dr. Vlackveld, at Harlem, he says: “It is in vain that -you apply the spur to urge me, at my present age—not mature merely, -but declining—to gird myself for any new investigation. For I now -consider myself entitled to my discharge from duty.” - -Harvey died on the 3d of June, 1657, in the eightieth year of his -age, and the Fellows of his college followed his remains far out of -the city towards Hempstead, in Essex, where his brother Eliab had a -vault. His will is a characteristic document. He thus expresses his -Christian faith: “I do most humbly render my soul to Him that gave -it, and to my blessed Lord and Saviour Christ Jesus.” Making his -brother Eliab executor and residuary legatee, he bequeaths legacies -to all his relations with most affectionate expressions: we do not -know the date of his wife’s death (she was still living in 1645), but -she is here mentioned as “my dear deceased loving wife.” “I give to -the College of Physicians all my books and papers, and my best Persia -long carpet, and my blue satin embroidered cushion, one pair of brass -andirons, with fireshovel and tongs of brass, for the ornament of the -meeting-room I have erected.” It seems very probable that these books -and papers included some much-regretted observations of Harvey’s, -which were destroyed, with the building which he erected and the -statue to his memory, in the great fire of 1666. He left £10 to his -friend Hobbes of Malmesbury, who describes Harvey as the only one -that he knew who conquered envy and established a new doctrine in his -lifetime. - -“The private character of this great man,” says Aikin, in his -Biographical Memoirs of Medicine in Great Britain, “appears to have -been in every respect worthy of his public reputation. Cheerful, -candid, and upright, he was not the prey of any mean or ungentle -passion. He was as little disposed by nature to detract from the -merits of others, or make an ostentatious display of his own, as -necessitated to use such methods for advancing his fame. The many -antagonists whom his renown and the novelty of his opinions excited -were, in general, treated by him with modest and temperate language, -frequently very different from their own; and while he refuted -their arguments, he decorated them with all due praises. He lived -on terms of perfect harmony and friendship with his brethren of the -college; and seems to have been very little ambitious of engrossing -a disproportionate share of medical practice. In extreme old age, -pain and sickness were said to have rendered him somewhat irritable -in his temper.... It is certain that the profoundest veneration -for the great Cause of all those wonders he was so well acquainted -with appears eminently conspicuous in every part of his works. He -was used to say, that he never dissected the body of any animal -without discovering something which he had not expected or conceived -of, and in which he recognised the hand of an all-wise Creator. To -His particular agency, and not to the operation of general laws, -he ascribed all the phenomena of nature. In familiar conversation -Harvey was easy and unassuming, and singularly clear in expressing -his ideas. His mind was furnished with an ample store of knowledge, -not only in matters connected with his profession, but in most of the -objects of liberal inquiry, especially in ancient and modern history, -and the science of politics. He took great delight in reading the -ancient poets, Virgil in particular, with whose divine productions he -is said to have been sometimes so transported as to throw the book -from him with exclamations of rapture. To complete his character, he -did not want that polish and courtly address which are necessary to -the scholar who would also appear as a gentleman.” - -According to Aubrey, who knew him well, Harvey was not tall, but -of the lowest stature; round-faced, olivaster in complexion, with -little round eyes, very black and full of spirit, his hair black -as a raven, but quite white twenty years before he died. His -portrait in the College of Physicians corresponds with this account, -indicating a nervous, bilious temperament, and showing a compact, -square, wide forehead. The general expression is highly intellectual, -contemplative, and manly. - -Harvey has the rare distinction of standing at the head of three -departments of science in England—comparative anatomy, physiology, -and medicine. When these scarcely existed, he evolved them into -living form from chaos. The extent of his achievements must be gauged -by the extent of the superstructure built upon his foundations. He -laid the foundations broad and firm, and practised the true method of -science. Notwithstanding Harvey’s infirmities, his mind in old age -was characterised by an abiding youthfulness and desire to learn, -so that Aubrey found him studying Oughtred’s “Clavis Mathematica,” -and working problems not long before he died. He was equally pleased -to communicate his knowledge to others, and, as Aubrey relates, “to -instruct any that were modest and respectful to him. In order to -my journey (I was at that time bound for Italy), he dictated to me -what to see, what company to keep, what books to read, how to manage -my studies—in short, he bid me go to the fountain-head and read -Aristotle, Cicero, Avicenna.” He was always very contemplative, and -was wont to frequent the leads of Cockaine House, which his brother -Eliab had bought, having there his several stations in regard to -the sun and the wind, for the indulgence of his fancy. At the house -at Combe, in Surrey, he had caves made in the ground, in which he -delighted in the summer-time to meditate. He also loved darkness, as -he could then best contemplate. The activity of his mind would often -deprive him of sleep, when he would rise and walk about in his shirt, -until he was cooled and could gain sleep. Similarly he treated his -attacks of gout; he would sit with his legs bare, even in frost, on -the leads of Cockaine House, and put them into a pail of water until -he was almost dead with cold, and thus he found his attacks could be -moderated. - -His great works were, according to the custom of the age, written in -Latin; and Dr. Willis, who has translated all of them into English, -describes his Latin as generally easy, often elegant, and not -unfrequently copious and imaginative—he never seems to feel in the -least fettered by the language he is using. - -The College of Physicians, says Dr. Munk, possesses some interesting -memorials of Harvey, two of which may be mentioned. One the whalebone -probe or rod, tipped with silver, with which he demonstrated -the parts in his Lumleian Lectures at the college. The other, -consisting of six tables of wood, upon which are spread the different -blood-vessels and nerves of the human body, carefully dissected out, -probably prepared by Harvey himself, and presumed to have been -used by him in his lectures. They were presented to the college by -the Earl of Winchelsea, one of whose ancestors, the Lord-Chancellor -Nottingham, had married the niece of Harvey. - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[4] Restitutio Christianismi. - -[5] Malpighi first saw the blood circulating. In 1661 he records his -having seen the circulation of the blood in the frog’s lungs. Later -he saw it also in the frog’s mesentery. - -[6] Dr. Willis’s Translation of Harvey’s Works. Sydenham Soc. 1847. - -[7] Harvey’s personal history is comparatively little concerned -with the controversy which arose in establishing the truth of -his discovery. His lectures and demonstrations at the College of -Physicians were so convincing that he met with but slight opposition -from capable critics in England. Continental professors, however, -were slower to accept his teaching. “The Circulation of the Blood,” -he says in his first answer to Riolan in 1649, “has now been before -the world for many years, illustrated by proofs cognizable to the -senses, and confirmed by numerous experiments; but no one has yet -attempted opposition to it on the ground of ocular testimony. Empty -assertions, baseless arguments, captious cavillings, and contumelious -epithets are all that have been levelled against the doctrine and its -author.” We need not, therefore, follow here the history of the final -and full triumph of Harvey’s views on the Continent. - -[8] That Harvey’s scientific ardour was in full operation during -this journey we also learn from a remark of Hollar the artist, who -accompanied the ambassador: “He would still be making of excursions -into the wood, making observations of strange trees, plants, earths, -&c., and sometimes like to be lost; so that my lord ambassador would -be really angry with him, for there was not only danger of wild -beasts, but of thieves.” - -In a letter written on this journey, Harvey says: “By the way we -could scarce see a dog, crow, kite, raven, or any bird, or anything -to anatomize; only some few miserable people, the reliques of the war -and the plague, whom famine had made anatomies before I came.” - -[9] There is every reason to believe that by this course of conduct -Harvey lost nothing of the King’s favour and regard. Harvey records -that on several occasions the King had exhibited to him the beating -heart of the chick in the shell. We learn that he placed at Harvey’s -disposal several does for his experiments, and was present on various -occasions at his dissections. Though it is not definitely recorded, -Harvey appears to have accompanied Charles on at least one of his -journeys to Scotland, and to have visited the Bass Rock. In his work -on Generation he incidentally describes the seabirds which he found -so abundant there. - -[10] It is in reference to this that Cowley says:— - - “O cursed war! who can forgive thee this? - Houses and towns may rise again, - And ten times easier ’tis - To rebuild Paul’s than any work of his.” - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -_THOMAS SYDENHAM, THE BRITISH HIPPOCRATES._ - - -In the front rank of practical physicians in England stands THOMAS -SYDENHAM, descended from an ancient Somersetshire family, one branch -of which migrated into Dorsetshire in the reign of Henry VIII., and -settled at Winford Eagle. Here he was born in 1624. We know nothing -of his early years till we find him entered at Magdalen Hall, Oxford, -in 1642. His studies were interrupted by Charles I.’s residence -there, and it is very probable that he took arms on the side of the -Parliament, while it is certain that his brothers did so—one of -them, William Sydenham, having been a well-known Parliamentarian -commissioner, and Governor of the Isle of Wight. His mother, too, -was in some way, of which we have no account, “killed in the civil -wars” in 1644, so that there is sufficient reason why Thomas Sydenham -should have withdrawn from Oxford at this time. Sir Richard Blackmore -indeed describes him as a disbanded officer, and this appears -possible from what Sydenham himself states. - -In his letter dedicatory to Dr. John Mapletoft of the third edition -of his “Medical Observations,” Sydenham says: “It is now thirty -years since I had the good fortune to fall in with the learned -and ingenuous Master Thomas Coxe, Doctor.... I myself was on my -way to London, with the intention of going thence to Oxford, the -breaking out of the war having kept me away for some years. With -his well-known kindness and condescension, Dr. Coxe asked me what -pursuit I was prepared to make my profession.... Upon this point my -mind was unfixed, whilst I had not so much as dreamed of medicine. -Stimulated, however, by the recommendation and encouragement of so -high an authority, I prepared myself seriously for that pursuit. -Hence all the little merit that my works may have earned in the eyes -of the public is to be thankfully referred to him who was the patron -and promoter of my first endeavours.” - -Dr. Lettsom in 1801 communicated to the _Gentleman’s Magazine_ a -MS. anecdote which has since been found to be derived from “The -Vindicatory Schedule,” by Dr. Andrew Brown, published two years after -Sydenham’s death. “Dr. Thos. Sydenham was an actor in the late civil -war, and discharged the office of captain. He being in his lodgings -in London, and going to bed at night with his clothes loosed, a mad -drunken fellow, a soldier, likewise in the same lodging, entered his -room, with one hand gripping him by the breast of his shirt, with the -other discharged a loaded pistol into his bosom; yet, oh strange! -without any hurt to him.” The story then goes on to relate how the -bullet happened to be discharged in the line of all the bones of the -palm of the hand edgeways, so that it lost its force and was spent -without doing any harm to Sydenham. - -When Oxford surrendered to the Parliament, Sydenham returned to -Magdalen Hall, and was soon afterwards elected a fellow of All Souls’ -in place of an expelled Royalist. The degree of M.B. he took in 1648, -without taking a degree in arts; and he appears to have resided -at Oxford for some years, with possibly an interval spent at the -Montpellier School of Medicine. Soon after taking his degree he began -to suffer from gout and symptoms of stone, to which he was a martyr -more or less for the rest of his life. - -We do not know in what year Sydenham finally quitted Oxford and went -to London. He gives an account of the epidemics of 1661 in London, -where he must then have been settled. In 1663 he became a licentiate -of the College of Physicians, but could not proceed further without -a doctor’s degree, which he did not take till comparatively late in -life, in 1676. - -In 1666 appeared Sydenham’s first work, the first edition of the -“Method of Curing Fevers,” dealing with continued and intermittent -fevers, and with smallpox. - -This first edition was dedicated to Robert Boyle, whom Sydenham -describes as “truly and wholly noble,” and to whom he ascribes -transcendent parts, such as to raise him to the level of the most -famous names of foregone ages. He acknowledges many and great -favours conferred upon him by his friend; and he states soberly that -it was on Boyle’s persuasion and recommendation that he undertook to -write the book, and by his experience that some portions of it had -been tested. Boyle occasionally accompanied Sydenham in his visits -to the sick. The physician hopes his book will not find less favour -for being “neither vast in bulk, nor stuffed out with the spoils of -former authors.” “I have no wish to disturb their ashes,” he remarks. - -The preface to the first edition begins thus: “Whoever takes up -medicine should seriously consider the following points: firstly, -that he must one day render to the Supreme Judge an account of -the lives of those sick men who have been intrusted to his care. -Secondly, that such skill and science as, by the blessing of God, -he has attained, are to be specially directed towards the honour of -his Maker and the welfare of his fellow-creatures, since it is a -base thing for the great gifts of heaven to become the servants of -avarice or ambition. Thirdly, he must remember that it is no mean -ignoble animal that he deals with. We may ascertain the worth of -the human race, since for its sake God’s only-begotten Son became -man, and thereby ennobled the nature that He took upon Him. Lastly, -he must remember that he himself hath no exemption from the common -lot, but that he is bound by the same laws of mortality, and liable -to the same ailments and afflictions with his fellows. For these -and like reasons let him strive to render aid to the distressed with -the greater care, with the kindlier spirit, and with the stronger -fellow-feeling.” - -The candid and philosophic temperament of the man is also well -exemplified in the conclusion of the same preface. He foresees -that “even where my practice has been tried, and its results been -recognised, it will be asserted that my statements are anything but -new, and that the world has long known them. I have, notwithstanding, -never allowed myself to be deterred from communicating the following -pages to those of my fellow-creatures who unite the love of truth -with the love of their kind. It is my temper and disposition to be -careless both of the sayings and the doings of the over-proud and the -over-critical. To the wise, however, and the honest, I wish to say -this much:—I have in no wise distorted either fact or experiment; -I told the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.... -In the meanwhile I ask the pardon, and submit to the arguments, of -better judges than myself, for all errors of theory. Perhaps I may -myself hereafter on many points change my mind of my own accord. As I -have no lack of charity for the errors of others, I have no love of -obstinately persisting in my own.” - -At the outset of his treatise he asserts that a disease is an effort -of nature which strives with might and main to restore the health -of the patient by the elimination of the morbific matter. Yet he is -so far in accord with modern discovery of bacterial germs, that -he refers the specific differences between fevers to some unknown -constitution of the atmosphere. His wisdom is conspicuous when -he says he prefers nothing, on the outbreak of a new fever, to a -little delay, and diligently observes the character and cause of the -disease, and what kinds of treatment do good or harm. He discerns -thoroughly that the scientific working out of the characteristics -and phenomena of each disease must be accomplished before it can be -asserted that any good work worthy of mention has been got through. -It would be difficult to exhibit a more modest and a more truly -philosophical spirit than that shown in the following lines at the -close of his second chapter: “One thing most especially do I aim -at. It is my wish to state how things have gone lately; how they -have been in this the city which we live in. The observations of -some years form my groundwork. It is thus that I would add my mite, -such as it is, towards the foundation of a work that, in my humble -judgment, shall be beneficial to the human race. Posterity will -complete it, since to them it shall be given to take the full view of -the whole cycle of epidemics in their mutual sequences for years yet -to come.” - -A signal instance of his philosophic moderation is given in the -following extract: “For my own part, I am not ambitious of the name -of a philosopher, and those who think themselves so, may perhaps -consider me blameable on the score of my not having attempted to -pierce into those penetralia. Now, writers like these I would just -recommend, before they blame others, to try their hand upon some -common phenomena of nature that meet us at every turn. For instance, -I would fain know why a horse attains its prime at seven, and a man -at one-and-twenty years? Why, in the vegetable kingdom, some plants -blow in May and others in June? There are numberless questions of -this sort. Hence, if many men of consummate wisdom are not ashamed to -proclaim their ignorance in these matters, I cannot see why I am to -be called in question for doing the same. Etiology is a difficult, -and, perhaps, an inexplicable affair; and I choose to keep my -hands clear of it. _I am convinced, however, that Nature here, as -elsewhere, moves in a regular and orderly manner._” - -In how wise and firm a tone does Sydenham denounce and demolish the -quacks and patent medicine vendors! He considers that any man who -can, by any sure line of treatment, or by the application of any -specific remedy, control the course of diseases or cut them short, -is bound by every possible bond to reveal to the world in general so -great a blessing to his race. If he withheld it, he pronounced him a -bad citizen and an unwise man; for no good citizen would monopolise -for himself a general benefit for his kind, and no wise man would -divest himself of the blessing he might reasonably expect from his -Maker in contributing to the welfare of the world. - -Sydenham stands out as a great advocate and champion of Peruvian -bark, which, in its modern form of quinine, has justified all that he -claimed for it. He is also the founder of the “expectant” treatment. -“My chief care,” he says, “in the midst of so much darkness and -ignorance, is to wait a little, and proceed very slowly, especially -in the use of powerful remedies, in the meantime observing its nature -and procedure, and by what means the patient was relieved or injured.” - -The new treatise at once attracted attention, and was reviewed in -the Philosophical Transactions for 1666. In the same year there -appeared a Dutch edition of the Method. The value and the effect of -this treatise we can scarcely fully appreciate at the present time, -but its pith is well given by Dr. John Brown, author of the “Horæ -Subsecivæ.” “Besides their broad, accurate, vivid delineations of -disease—portraits drawn to the life, and by a great master—and their -wise, simple, rational rules for treatment, active and negative, -general and specific—there are two great principles continually -referred to as supreme in the art of medicine. The first is that -nature cures diseases; that there is a recuperative and curative -power, the _vis medicatrix_, in every living organism, implanted in -it by the Almighty, and that it is by careful reverential scrutiny -of this law of restoration that all our attempts at cure are to be -guided; that we are its ministers and interpreters, and neither -more nor less; and the second, that symptoms are the language of a -suffering and disordered and endangered body, which it is the duty -of the physician to listen to, and as far as he can to explain and -satisfy, and that, like all other languages, it must be studied. This -is what he calls the natural history of diseases.... What Locke did -for the science of mind, what Harvey and Newton did for the sciences -of organic and inorganic matter, Sydenham did for the art of healing -and of keeping men whole: he made it in the main observational; he -founded it upon what he himself calls downright matter of fact, -and did this not by unfolding a system of doctrines or raising up -a scaffolding of theory, but by pointing to a road, by exhibiting -a method—and moreover teaching this by example, not less than by -precept—walking in the road, not acting merely as a finger-post, and -showing himself to be throughout a true artsman and master of his -tools. The value he puts upon sheer, steady, honest observation, as -the one initial act and process of all true science of nature, is -most remarkable; and he gives himself, in his descriptions of disease -in general and of particular cases, proofs quite exquisite of his own -powers of persevering, minute, truthful scrutiny.” - -In 1668 a second edition of the Method was published, with additions, -especially a chapter on the Plague, and prefaced by a eulogistic -address in Latin verse, extending to fifty-four lines, by the -illustrious Locke. In 1676 appeared the third edition of the Method, -so much enlarged that it is better regarded as the first edition of -the “Medical Observations.” In the same year Sydenham proceeded to -the degree of Doctor of Medicine, not at Oxford, but at Cambridge, -this choice being probably due to the fact that his son had entered -at Pembroke College, Cambridge, two years before. - -From the preface to his treatise on gout and dropsy, published in -1683, we find that Sydenham was compelled to lay aside his project of -a complete book on chronic diseases by the extreme attacks of gout -which his labours brought on. “Whenever I returned to my studies,” -he says, “my gout returned to me.” A few years before, in 1677, he -had been prevented from practising by a severe attack of gout, and -he was compelled to spend another three months in the country to -restore his health. He continued his labours, however, it is to be -believed, beyond his strength, and several editions of his works, -with fresh observations, were issued in the later years of his life. -He died at his house in Pall Mall on the 29th of December, 1689, -aged sixty-five, being buried at St. James’s, Westminster. The truly -appropriate description, “Medicus in omne ævum nobilis,” was given -of him by the College of Physicians in 1810, when a mural tablet was -raised to his memory near his place of burial. - -Sydenham’s will shows that he had three sons—William, Henry, and -James—the eldest of whom received entailed estates in Hertfordshire -and Leicestershire. He bequeathed £30 for the professional education -of his nephew James, afterwards Sir James Thornhill, Hogarth’s -father-in-law. Sydenham’s executor was Mr. Malthus, an apothecary of -Pall Mall (great-grandfather of Professor Malthus), whom he enjoins -to bury him with a careful abstinence from all ostentatious funeral -pomp. - -It is perhaps not necessary to regret so acutely the lack of -biographical details regarding Dr. Sydenham, as many have done, for -we think that his character stands out clearly in his writings. In -his letter to Dr. Mapletoft, already referred to, he says:— - -“After a few years spent in the arena of the university, I returned -to London for the practice of medicine. The more I observed the facts -of this science with an attentive eye, and the more I studied them -with due and proper diligence, the more I became confirmed in the -opinion which I have held up to the present hour, viz., _that the art -of medicine was to be properly learnt only from its practice and its -exercise_; and that, in all probability, he would be the best skilled -in the detection of the true and genuine indications of treatment -who had the most diligently and the most accurately attended to the -natural phenomena of disease.” - -The same preface contains Sydenham’s opinion of a great contemporary -and valued friend of his. “You know also how thoroughly an intimate -and common friend, and one who has closely and exhaustively examined -the question, agrees with me as to the method I am speaking of—a man -who, in the acuteness of his intellect, in the steadiness of his -judgment, in the simplicity (and by _simplicity_ I mean _excellence_) -of his manners, has amongst the present generation few equals and -no superiors. This praise I may confidently attach to the name of -John Locke.” Dugald Stewart, commenting on this, says: “The merit of -the Method therefore may be presumed to have belonged in part to Mr. -Locke.” There is no reason, however, in the co-operation of these -great minds, for detracting from the praise of either. - -Sydenham’s idea of a satisfactory method of curing was a line of -practice based upon a sufficient number of experiments. His business -was, he says, to support his own observations, not to discuss the -opinions of others. The facts would speak for themselves, and would -alone show whether he acted with truth and honesty, or, like a -profligate and immoral man, was to be a murderer even when in his -grave. In the preface to the third edition he says, “The breath of -life would have been to me a vain gift, unless I contributed my mite -to the treasury of physic.” He considered that medicine was to be -advanced in two main ways—by a history of diseases, by descriptions -at once graphic and natural, and by formulating a praxis or method -of treating them. The most modern thought could produce no sounder -principle for describing disease than the following: “In writing -the history of a disease, every philosophical hypothesis whatsoever -that has previously occupied the mind of the author should lie in -abeyance. This being done, the clear and natural phenomena of the -disease should be noted—these and these only. These should be noted -accurately and in all their minuteness.” He wittily remarks that -it often happens that the character of the complaint varies with -the nature of the remedies, and that symptoms may be referred less -to the disease than to the doctor. He traces the lack of accurate -descriptions of diseases to an idea that disease was but a confused -and disordered effort of nature defending herself in vain, so that -men had classed the attempts at a just description with the attempts -to wash blackamoors white. - -Sydenham conceived the idea, too, of paying some attention to the -wishes and tastes of the patient. “A person in a burning fever -desires to drink freely of some small liquor; but the rules of art, -built upon some hypothesis, having a different design in view, -thwart the desire, and instead thereof order a cordial. In the -meantime the patient, not being suffered to drink what he wishes, -nauseates all kinds of food, but art commands him to eat. Another, -after a long illness, begs hard, it may be, for something odd or -questionable; here, again, impertinent art thwarts him and threatens -him with death. How much more excellent the aphorism of Hippocrates: -‘Such food as is most grateful, though not so wholesome, is to be -preferred to that which is better, but distasteful.’” He has nothing -of the meddlesome practitioner about him. “Indeed, if I may speak my -mind freely, I have been long of opinion that I act the part of an -honest man and a good physician as often as I refrain entirely from -medicines, when, upon visiting the patient, I find him no worse -to-day than he was yesterday; whereas, if I attempt to cure the -patient by a method of which I am uncertain, he will be endangered -both by the experiment I am going to make on him and by the disease -itself; nor will he so easily escape two dangers as one.” - -A fine description of one aspect of hysteria and hypochondria may -here be given as an example of his power in the delineation of -disease: “The patients believe that they have to suffer all the -evils that can befall humanity, all the troubles that the world can -supply. They have melancholy forebodings, they brood over trifles, -cherishing them in their anxious and unquiet bosoms. Fear, anger, -jealousy, suspicion, and the worst passions of the mind arise without -cause. Joy, hope, cheerfulness, if they find place at all in their -spirits, find it at intervals ‘few and far between,’ and then take -leave quickly. In these, as in the painful feelings, there is no -moderation. All is caprice. They love without measure those whom they -will soon hate without reason. Now they will do this, now that—ever -receding from their purpose.... All that they see in their dreams are -funerals and the shadows of departed friends.” - -The great physician has nowhere described his own character more -clearly than in the following passage: “In all points of theory where -the reader finds me in error, I ask his pardon. In all points of -practice I state that I speak nothing but the truth; and that I have -propounded nothing except what I have properly tried. Verily, I am -sure that, when the last day of my life shall have come upon me, I -shall carry in my heart a willing witness that shall speak, not only -to the care and honesty with which I have laboured for the health of -both rich and poor who have intrusted themselves to my care, but also -to those efforts which I have made to the best of my power, and with -all the energies of my mind, to give certainty to the treatment of -diseases even after my death, if such may be. In the first place, no -patient has been treated by me otherwise than I would myself wish to -be treated under the same complaint. In the second, I have ever held -that any accession whatever to the art of healing, even if it went no -further than the cutting of corns or the curing of toothaches, was of -far higher value than all the knowledge of fine points, and all the -pomp of subtle speculations—matters which are as useful to physicians -in driving away diseases, as music is to masons in laying bricks.” - -The last comparison leads us to note that a vein of humour runs -through Sydenham’s works, as when he quotes - - “Tua res agitur paries quum proximus ardet,” - -as a reason for his leaving London in the height of the plague. - -In another passage, he is referring to the want of opportunity of -the poor to injure themselves by unsuitable diet in smallpox, owing -to the “res augusta domi.” Yet even among the poor, he says, since -they learnt the use of certain cordials, many more have died than in -previous ages less learned but more wise. “Nowadays every house has -its old woman,” he says, “a practitioner in an art she never learnt, -to the killing of mankind.” - -In one place he grimly remarks, that if a certain mode of treatment -be resorted to, the patient will die of his own doctor, an end which -in that age must have too frequently resulted, though not specified -in the catalogue of diseases. - -Here is a specimen of Sydenham’s witty apophthegms: “A man who finds -a treasure lying on the ground before him, is a fool if he do not -stoop and pick it up; but he is a greater one who, on the strength -of such a single piece of luck, wastes labour and risks life for the -chance of another.” - -Again, “The usual pomp of medicine exhibited over dying patients is -like the garlands of a beast at the sacrifice.” Elsewhere he refers -to some persons “to whom nature has given just wit enough to traduce -her with.” We must also refer to Sydenham’s humour his answer to Sir -Richard Blackmore, who asked him what books he should study medicine -in: “Read Don Quixote, sir, which is a very good book: I read it -still.” - -We notice as an instance of Sydenham’s kind-heartedness, a case -in which he lent a poor man one of his horses for a several days’ -journey, believing continuous horse-exercise to be the best cure for -his disease. - -Another characteristic touch is the following: “I have always thought -that to have published for the benefit of afflicted mortals any -certain method of subduing even the slightest disease, was a matter -of greater felicity than the riches of a Tantalus or a Crœsus.” To -Dr. Brady he remarks: “To you that undeserved abuse wherewith I am -harassed by many, is a vexation and sorrow; whilst, of those who -utter it this I may safely say, that if a harmless life, hurting -none by word or deed, had been sufficient to protect me from their -tongues, they never would have thundered against me. Since, then, it -is from no fault of mine that these calumnies have fallen on me, this -is my resolution, viz., that I will not afflict myself because other -men have done wrong.” - -Again he says: “My fame is in the hands of others. I have weighed in -a nice and scrupulous balance, whether it be better to serve men, -or to be praised by them, and I prefer the former. It does more -to tranquillise the mind; whereas fame, and the breath of popular -applause, is but a bubble, a feather, and a dream. Such wealth as -such fame gives, those who have scraped it together, and those who -value it highly, are fully free to enjoy, only let them remember that -the mechanical arts (and sometimes the meanest of them) bring greater -gains, and make richer heirs.” - -He addressed to Dr. Thomas Short his treatise on Gout and Dropsy, -because “although others despised the observations which I previously -published, you had no hesitation in attributing to them some -utility.”... “It is my nature to think where others read; to ask less -whether the world agrees with me than whether I agree with the truth; -and to hold cheap the rumour and applause of the multitude.” - -We have yet to note a remarkable fragment entitled “Theologia -Rationalis, by Dr. Thomas Sydenham,” in manuscript in the Cambridge -University Library. It appears to coincide very closely with other -indications of his views, and it has been said of it, “There is much -in it of the spirit both of Locke and Butler—of Locke in the spirit -of observation and geniality; of Butler in the clear utterances as to -the supremacy of reason, and the necessity of living according to our -own true nature.” The general principles of his regard of the Divine -Being may be judged from the following extract: “Wherefore, to this -eternal, infinitely good, wise, and powerful Being, as I am to pay -all that adoration, thanks, and worship which I can raise up my mind -unto; so to Him, from the consideration of His providence, whereby -He doth govern the world, myself and all things in it, I am to pray -for all that good which is necessary for my mind and body, and for -diverting all those evils which are contrary to their nature; above -all desiring that my mind may be endowed with all manner of virtue. -But in requesting things relating to my body and its concerns, having -always a deference to the will of the Supreme Being, who knows what -is best for me better than I do myself. And though my requests to -these bodily concerns of mine are not answered, nevertheless, herein -I worship Him, by declaring my dependence upon Him; and forasmuch as -that, in many respects, I have transgressed His divine laws written -upon my nature, I am humbly to implore His pardon, it being as -natural for me to do it, as it is to implore the pardon of a man whom -I know I have offended. In all which requests of mine, and all His -creatures, how many soever they be in number, and how distant soever -they be in place, He being infinite, is as ready at hand to hear and -to help as any man who is but finite is at hand to administer food to -his child that craves it.” - -Thus we take leave of Sydenham, denominated by Locke “one of the -master-builders at this time in the commonwealth of learning;” -reckoned by the masters in his own and the next age as second to -Hippocrates alone—the man whom Boerhaave never mentioned to his class -without lifting his hat, describing him as “Angliæ lumen, artis -Phœbum, veram Hippocratici viri speciem.” - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -_THE MONROS, CULLEN, THE GREGORYS, JOHN BELL, AND THE FOUNDATION OF -THE EDINBURGH SCHOOL OF MEDICINE._ - - -Notwithstanding the early date of the foundation of the College of -Physicians of London, and the fact that the illustrious names of -Harvey and Sydenham and others adorn the rise of rational medicine -in the south, the credit of first developing a famous medical -school belongs to Edinburgh, where the Monros, Gregorys, Cullen, -Black, and Rutherford maintained during the eighteenth century -an unbroken succession of brilliant names. It cannot be allowed, -however, that the Town Council of Edinburgh, in founding medical -professorships, deserves as much of this credit as do the outside -founders of medical teaching, whose existence and success extorted -from the municipality a recognition formal and limited at first, -and certainly unremunerated. It may be questioned whether the -University of Edinburgh has not really been indebted almost as much -to the extra-academical teachers of medicine who have continually -stimulated the actual professors to their best endeavours, as to -those professors themselves. - -Anatomy, the necessary foundation of medicine, had a kind of -beginning in Edinburgh in 1505, for the surgeons and barbers of the -city had procured the insertion in their charter of a clause enabling -them to obtain “once in the year a condemned man after he be dead to -make anatomy of.” But little came of this, and it was reserved for -a number of able physicians, educated abroad, in the latter part of -the seventeenth century, to set on foot some practical teaching in -medicine and the allied sciences. The names of Sir Robert Sibbald, -Sir Andrew Balfour, and Sir Archibald Stevenson must be honourably -mentioned in this connection. The first two of these were most -influential in establishing the earliest public botanic garden in -Edinburgh, a piece of ground about forty feet square, belonging -to Holyrood House. They subsequently allied to themselves James -Sutherland, who afterwards became a notable botanist, and obtained -the appointment of keeper of a much larger garden near Trinity -College Church. Many valuable collections of seeds and plants were -procured; medical students were incited to collect and send home -seeds and cuttings from places they might travel to; and so the -garden became an important starting-point for materia medica. - -Professional feuds already became prominent in Edinburgh. The -surgeon-apothecaries were jealous of the physicians and doctors of -medicine. Several abortive efforts were made by the latter towards -the establishment of a College of Physicians. In 1621 King James -gave a warrant to the Scottish Parliament for this purpose; but no -action was taken. In 1630 the subject was referred to the Privy -Council. In 1656 Cromwell constituted a College of Physicians for -Scotland; but his death prevented its completion. Thus it was not -till Sibbald and Stevenson, by the aid of Sir Charles Scarborough, -Harvey’s friend, gained the ear of the Duke of York, that at last -the College of Physicians of Edinburgh was founded, in 1681, -notwithstanding the strong opposition of the surgeons and the -townsmen. - -Soon after this, in 1685, the Town Council of Edinburgh appointed -three principal members of the College of Physicians to be Professors -of Medicine in what they now for the first time, at any rate in -existing documents, called “the university of this city.” Sir Robert -Sibbald was appointed Professor of Physic, and rooms were allotted to -him, but not a salary. Drs. Halket and Pitcairne were speedily added -to the list of professors, and the division of duties between the -professors was left to themselves. We have no record of any lectures -given by these professors for a long period, but we know that -Pitcairne in 1692-3 held a professorship at Leyden. On his return to -Edinburgh he became enthusiastic in promoting the medical school, -aiding Alexander Monteith in gaining permission from the Town Council -to dissect the bodies of people who died in “Paul’s Work.” “We -offer,” says Pitcairne, “to wait on these poor for nothing, and bury -them after dissection at our own charges, which now the town does; -yet there is great opposition by the chief surgeons, who neither eat -hay nor suffer the oxen to eat it. I do propose, if this be granted, -to make better improvements in anatomy than have been in Leyden these -thirty years.” - -Monteith obtained a grant in October 1694 of “those bodies that -die in the correction-house,” and of “foundlings that die upon the -breast.” He was allowed to make his dissections in “any vacant -waste-room in the correction-house, or any other thereabouts -belonging to the town.” Magistrates were to be admitted if they -desired, and the apprentices of the surgeons might attend at -half-fee. However, Monteith’s scheme did not succeed, because he -had acted without concert with the other members of the Surgeons’ -Corporation. These made a more successful start in the same year, -having obtained a right to “the bodies of foundlings who die betwixt -the time that they are weaned and their being put to schools or -trades, also the dead bodies of such as are stifled in the birth, -which are exposed and have none to own them; also the dead bodies of -such as are _felo do se_ and have none to own them; likewayes the -bodies of such as are put to death by sentence of the magistrate and -have none to own them.” A condition was annexed to this grant that by -Michaelmas 1697 an anatomical theatre should be built, where public -dissections should be made once a year, if opportunity offered. This -was evidently intended to extend to a course of anatomy, including -as much as could be taught on one body. The method, however, in -which anatomy was first practised in the Surgeons’ Hall was for ten -surgeons to lecture, on following days, each in succession taking a -special part. The body had to be buried within ten days. - -It was in 1705 that a special appointment of one man to lecture -on anatomy was first made, and the first lecturer, Robert Elliot, -was also made Professor of Anatomy in the University, with a small -stipend. This formal appointment appears to have been directly -occasioned by the offer of some unknown teacher to give public and -private teaching in anatomy to the surgeons and their apprentices. - -It is not till 1706 that we have any record of Sibbald’s lectures. -The _Edinburgh Courant_ was then made the medium whereby he -announced, in Latin, his intention to lecture on natural history and -medicine “in privatis collegiis,” or private courses of lectures. He -appears to have lectured in Latin, and to have received no pupils but -such as were skilled in Greek, Latin, mathematics, and philosophy. - -About this time had settled in Edinburgh the progenitor of the long -line of distinguished Monros, John Monro, formerly an army surgeon, -who became President of the College of Surgeons in 1712. His son -Alexander, afterwards so distinguished, was born in London on the 8th -September, 1697. Being an only son, his father gave unusual attention -to his training, and early perceiving his acuteness of mind, sent him -successively to London, Paris, and Leyden to obtain the best medical -education at that time accessible. The anatomical preparations which -he made during his studentship gave such evidence of ability, that -Drummond, who then taught anatomy at Edinburgh, offered to resign -in his favour as soon as he returned home. Cheselden in London and -Boerhaave in Leyden were highly impressed by the young Scotchman’s -promise. - -The year 1720 may be taken as witnessing the actual start of the -Medical School of Edinburgh, and Alexander Monro as its real founder. -Although the father did much to promote the successful start, the -son becoming actually the competent teacher, must necessarily have -the greater credit. At the age of twenty-two, Monro was appointed -Professor of Anatomy, and having announced his first course of -lectures on anatomy, to be illustrated by the preparations he had -made and sent home when abroad, his father, without his knowledge, -invited the President and Fellows of the College of Physicians and -the whole of the city surgeons to the first lecture. The surprise -caused the young lecturer to forget the discourse which he had -committed to memory, and being without notes, he had presence of -mind enough to commence talking about some of his preparations, -and soon became collected in speaking of what he was confident he -understood. Thus the surprise and temporary forgetfulness thereby -caused was a foundation of his success: he found himself applauded -as a ready speaker, and resolved throughout life to speak extempore, -being persuaded that words expressive of his meaning would always -occur in speaking on a subject which he understood. From this time -the subjects of anatomy and surgery in Monro’s hands attracted large -classes of students, the average of the first decade being 67; of the -second, 109; of the third, 147. Even during the second session his -lectures attracted students from all parts of Scotland, also from -England and Ireland. Seizing the opportunity, other professors were -persuaded to start courses of lectures, so that soon a respectable -curriculum was provided, and Monro secured in 1722 a grant of his -professorship for life. It had previously been held only at the will -of the Town Council. - -Monro was now face to face with the difficulty of providing -sufficient material for the instruction of his large classes. Under -Cheselden in London he had been accustomed to a supply of subjects, -more even than he could make use of. In Edinburgh, as early as 1711, -complaints were made at Surgeons’ Hall of violation of graves in -Greyfriars’ Churchyard, “by some who most unchristianly have been -stealing, or at least attempting to carry away, the bodies of the -dead out of their graves.” But, said the surgeons, “that which -affects them most, is a scandalous report, most maliciously spread -about the town, that some of their number are accessory, which they -cannot allow themselves to think, considering that the magistrates -of Edinburgh have been always ready and willing to allow them what -dead bodies fell under their gift, and thereby plentifully supplied -their theatre for many years past.” They consequently beg that the -magistrates will seek for and punish the offenders, and resolve to -expel any of their number found accessory to the violation of graves. -The populace nevertheless continued to be excitable on the subject -of the violation of graves, and in 1721-2, surgeons’ apprentices -were especially bound “not to raise the dead.” In March 1725 Monro -was put under the stringent obligation of giving information when -he procured each dead body, and guaranteeing that it was regularly -obtained; but the mob were suspicious, and threatened to demolish his -museum and theatre at Surgeons’ Hall. Monro consequently applied for -and obtained a room in the university building, being there safer -than at Surgeons’ Hall. Here his course included dissections not -only of the human body, but also of animals. Diseases affecting the -various organs were referred to; operations upon the dead body were -performed; bandages were applied; and lastly, such physiology as was -known was treated of. This course was continued for nearly forty -years. - -A great hospital was lacking, and the whole force of the medical -faculty, with the powerful aid of the far-seeing provost, George -Drummond, was engaged to secure the building of the infirmary. Monro -and Drummond were constituted a Building Committee, and Monro planned -in particular the operation-room. Dr. Moore in his Travels through -Scotland records that “the proprietors of many stone-quarries made -presents of stone, others of lime; merchants contributed timber; -carpenters and masons were not wanting in their contributions; the -neighbouring farmers agreed to carry the materials gratis; the -journeymen masons contributed their labours for a certain quantity -of hewn stones; and as this undertaking is for the relief of the -diseased, lame, and maimed poor, even the day-labourers could not -be exempted, but agreed to work a day in the month gratis toward -the erection. The ladies contributed in their way to it; for they -appointed an assembly for the benefit of the work, which was well -attended, and every one contributed bountifully.” - -The completion of the hospital gave Monro the opportunity of -delivering clinical lectures on surgery, while Rutherford from 1748 -gave clinical lectures on medical cases. Monro himself was present -at every _post mortem_ examination, and dictated to the students -an accurate report of the case. It was said of him “it is hardly -possible to conceive a physician more attentive to practice, or a -preceptor more anxious to communicate instruction.” - -His first and perhaps best known work was his Osteology, published -in 1726, and translated into several foreign languages. A French -edition appeared in folio with excellent engravings by M. Sue, -demonstrator to the Royal Academy of Paris. A treatise on the Nerves -followed; and later, a series of Medical Essays and Observations, -many by Monro, was issued by him, as the result of meetings of the -principal medical men in Edinburgh, which flourished for some years. -Another interesting work of Monro’s was his treatise on Comparative -Anatomy, in which he proposed to illustrate the human economy by -the anatomy of such vertebrate animals as he knew. But the contrast -is astonishing between Monro’s knowledge and that of the present -day. He divides quadrupeds into carnivorous and herbivorous; fowls -into those that feed on grain and those that feed on flesh; fishes -into those that have lungs and those that have not. He remarks that -the fishes that have lungs differ very inconsiderably from an ox -or any other quadruped, and are not easily procured; consequently -he omits all account of them. Moreover, he says, “as the structure -of insects and worms is so very minute, and lends us but little -assistance for the ends proposed, we purposely omit them.” He has a -strangely unpenetrating view of the relation between an oyster and a -sensitive plant. “What difference is there betwixt an oyster, one of -the most inorganised of the animal tribe, and the sensitive plant, -the most exalted of the vegetable kingdom? They both remain fixed -to one spot, where they receive their nourishment, having no proper -motion of their own, save the shrinking from the approach of external -injuries.” Dr. Monro’s writings generally are not inviting to quote -from, being written in a plain and rather bald style, with very -little attempt at illustration. - -In private life Monro, primus, was humane, liberal in sentiment, -a sincere friend, and an agreeable companion, an affectionate -husband and a kind father, having the art of making his children his -companions and friends. In 1745, after Prestonpans, he went down at -once to the battlefield to assist the sick and wounded, dressed their -wounds, and busied himself in securing them provisions and conveyance -to town. Nor did he confine his attentions to the loyal, but aided -the rebels also. He took an important share in the education of his -children, of whom Donald became a successful physician, and wrote his -life prefixed to the quarto edition of his works, 1781, to which all -subsequent biographies are much indebted. - -Monro was a man of a strong muscular make, of middle height. Yet -his constitution was considerably weakened in early life owing to -his being too frequently bled. He was liable to attacks of chest -affections throughout life, but died finally of a painful ulcer of -the rectum and bladder, on July 10th, 1767. He had resigned his chair -of anatomy to his son Alexander in 1759, but continued to practise -and to attend the infirmary till the last. He bore his painful -illness with fortitude and Christian resignation, and talked of his -approaching death with the same calmness as if he were going to sleep. - -“He was,” says Professor Struthers, “an able and active, and at -the same time a calm and placid man. He had family and friends -influential and plenty, but the work he had to do was of a kind -at which friends could only stand and look on. He had to do a new -thing in Edinburgh; to teach anatomy and to provide for the study -of it, in a town of then only thirty thousand inhabitants, and in a -half-civilised and politically-disturbed country; he had to gather -in students, to persuade others to join with him in teaching, and -to get an infirmary built. All this he did, and at the same time -established his fame not only as a teacher but as a man of science, -and gave a name to the Edinburgh School which benefited still more -the generation which followed him.” - -Although we must depart from strict chronological order to do so, -it will be more convenient to give here an account of the second -Monro, who was born May 20th, 1733, and was early attracted to the -study of anatomy, showing great perseverance and possessing a good -memory. He soon became a very useful assistant to his father in the -dissecting-room, and when the students grew too numerous for one -lecture, his father deputed his son, at the early age of twenty, to -repeat his course in an evening lecture to those who had failed to -obtain admission in the morning. His father, seeing how successful -his son was, petitioned the Town Council to have him appointed -as his colleague and eventual successor, promising, if this were -granted, to send his son to the best medical schools in Europe, and -in every way to fit him for the post. This plan being carried out, -young Monro took his M.D. degree at Edinburgh in 1755, and set out -for a round of medical schools, London, Leyden, Paris, and Berlin; -in London he attended William Hunter; in Berlin he had the still -greater advantage of living in the house of, and sharing the intimate -instruction of, the great anatomist, Meckel—a truly good start for -a promising career. On his son’s return to Edinburgh in 1758, his -father resigned his chair to him, and the son commenced by teaching -quite novel views on the blood, controverting his father’s teaching. -“The novelty of his matter, combined with the clearness of his style, -is described by one who was present as having acted like an electric -shock on the audience. It was at once seen that he was master of the -subject, and of the art of communicating knowledge to others; his -style was lively, argumentative, and modern, compared with that of -his more venerable colleagues; and from the beginning onwards, for -half a century, his career was one of easy and triumphant success” -(Struthers). As a lecturer he was clear, earnest, and impressive, -eloquent without display, and at the same time grave and dignified. -No wonder that his classes increased in size, until they even reached -four hundred. - -At the same time Monro entered into practice as a physician, and -became one of the leading practitioners in Edinburgh, so much so that -Dr. James Gregory described him as being far more than half a century -at the head of the medical school, and for a great part of that time -at the head of the profession as a practising physician. He was -also frequently called into consultation on surgical cases, though -he did not operate. His chief fame is, however, as a successful -anatomist and teacher of anatomy. In 1777 he successfully resisted -the appointment of a separate Professor of Surgery, claiming that his -office included surgery. - -Monro secundus claimed, and not without good grounds, to have made -important original discoveries in regard to the lymphatic system; but -his merits as a discoverer in this department do not interfere with -the greater lustre of William Hunter and Hewson. His observations -on the structure and functions of the nervous system enjoy the -distinction of having called Sir Charles Bell’s attention to the -ganglion of the fifth pair of cranial nerves, and to important -particulars of the origin of the spinal nerves, which led in no -insignificant degree to his own great discoveries. - -In 1758 Monro published at Berlin his first essay on the Lymphatics, -and Professor Black testified to having read this essay in manuscript -in 1755. It contained an account of the lymphatics as a distinct -system of vessels, having no immediate connection with the arteries -and veins, but arising in small branches from all cavities and cells -of the body into which fluids are thrown, and stating that their use -was to absorb the whole or the thinner parts of these fluids, and to -restore them to the general circulation. He showed further by medical -observation that in cases where acrid matter was applied to the pores -of the skin, or gained access to the cellular membranes, the glands -between the parts affected and the centre of the body became swollen -and painful, manifestly from being absorbed by the lymphatics. - -Monro also first ascribed the absorption of bones and other solid -parts in cases of tumour to pressure. His various works on the -Nervous System, on the Muscles, on the Brain, Eye, and Ear, and on -the Structure and Physiology of Fishes, all contain observations -which were of considerable value in building up the science of -anatomy in the last century, but none of them furnish attractive -reading, such as we have found in the works of Harvey and Sydenham. -This is somewhat remarkable, considering that Monro shone as an -anecdotist, was intimate with all the celebrated Edinburgh men of his -time, and was a great admirer of the theatre, being equally attracted -by Mrs. Siddons, whom he felt the greatest pleasure in attending as a -patient, and by Foote, whose performance as President of the College -of Physicians to Weston’s Dr. Last under examination he enjoyed -extremely. It was said that Monro sent his own scarlet robe to the -theatre for the mock doctor to wear. - -Another of Monro’s personal tastes was that of horticulture. He -planted and beautified several romantic hills around his estate -at Craiglockhart. Here he fitted up, says Dr. Duncan, a rural -cottage, consisting of two commodious apartments, adjoining his -head gardener’s house, whose kitchen could provide dinner for a few -select friends. He would keep no bedroom there, that he might never -be tempted to stay away from his professional duties in Edinburgh; -but in his cottage he often passed a summer day and regaled his -friends with the choicest fruits. Dr. Duncan in his Harveian Oration -relates his disappointment that the younger generation of his friends -“prefer the instrumental music of a fiddle, a flute, or an organ in a -drawing-room to that of the linnet, the thrush, or the goldfinch in -the fields;” and that the gardens of his old friends in which he had -spent such happy hours were now let out for market gardens. - -Monro was very economical of his time, and carefully measured it out -to each subject which occupied him; and he worked nearly as hard -towards the end as at the beginning of his career. He did not deliver -stereotyped lectures, but continually improved them. He is to be -credited also with having favourably received Jenner’s discovery of -vaccination, and vaccinated many children himself. - -In person the second Monro was of middle height, of vigorous and -athletic make. His head was large, with strongly marked features and -full forehead, light blue eyes, and somewhat large mouth. His neck -was short, and his shoulders high. - -In 1798 his son, Monro, tertius, was conjoined with him in the -professorship, but for ten years more the old man continued to -give the greater part of the course. His last lecture was that -introductory to the session of 1808-9, after which he retired from -practice also, and lived on till he died of apoplexy, 2d October -1817, in his eighty-fifth year. - -Born to a great name and a ready-made position, as Professor -Struthers remarks, the second Monro had every advantage which -education, friends, and place could secure. But it is to his credit -that among brilliant colleagues like Cullen, Black, Dugald Stewart, -Playfair, and others, he held his own both intellectually and -socially, even if he has not left so abiding a mark upon medical and -anatomical science as his contemporaries must have expected him to -make. - - * * * * * - -Notwithstanding the note which the Monros have attained for their -anatomical teaching, and the distinction won by the Gregorys as -Professors of Medicine and able physicians, they are outshone by -William Cullen, who is justly the most conspicuous figure in the -history of the Edinburgh Medical School in the eighteenth century. -WILLIAM CULLEN was born on the 15th of April, 1710, at Hamilton, -Lanarkshire, his father having been factor to the Duke of Hamilton. -Early prominent at the local grammar-school by his quick perception -and retentive memory, he was sent to the University of Glasgow in -due course, and apprenticed to a medical practitioner named Paisley, -who was both studious and possessed a good medical library, a signal -advantage to young Cullen. It became remarked by his companions -that while he took little or no part in their discussions when he -happened to be ill-informed on the subject, he always so studied -it afterwards that he could surpass the best of them if it came -up again. At the close of 1729 Cullen went to London, and first -obtained the surgeoncy to a merchant ship, commanded by a relative, -with whom he went to the West Indies, remaining six months at -Portobello. On his return to London he took a situation in an -apothecary’s shop in Henrietta Street, and studied as diligently as -ever, when not occupied in the shop. His father had died, and there -was little provision for a large family; his eldest brother’s death -compelled him to return to Scotland in the winter of 1731-2, to make -arrangements for the education of his younger brothers and sisters. -He began practice at Auchinlee near Hamilton, taking charge of the -health of a relative, and perseveringly carrying on from books those -studies which he had not money to prosecute at the seats of learning -where he longed to be. - -The receipt of a small legacy was the turning-point of Cullen’s -earlier fortunes: and how small a sum a studious Scotchman can make -available in this direction is well known. Cullen resolved to devote -himself to study entirely until he should be qualified to take a -firm stand as a surgeon at Hamilton. He first went to reside with a -dissenting minister in Northumberland, for the study of literature -and philosophy, and then spent the winter sessions of 1734-5 and -1735-6 at Edinburgh Medical School, now rapidly rising into note. -On establishing himself as a surgeon at Hamilton early in 1736, -young Cullen was soon employed by the Duke and Duchess of Hamilton -and the leading families of the neighbourhood. In this comparatively -retired situation Cullen yet gained the confidence of Dr. Clerk, an -able Edinburgh physician called in to Hamilton Palace, and was the -means of influencing William Hunter to the choice of the medical -profession. William Hunter was Cullen’s resident pupil from 1737 to -1740, and declared these to have been the happiest years of his life. -Thus natural selection brings men of future note together before -the world has known them, and the lineal succession of minds is as -fruitfully carried on as that of bodies. The affection of these two -continued throughout life. Long after William Hunter refers to him as -“a man to whom I owe most, and love most of all men in the world.” - -Cullen determining to devote all his time to medicine, proceeded to -the M.D. degree at Glasgow in 1740, and took a partner who was to -relieve him of surgical work. In November 1741 he married Miss Anna -Johnstone, a lady of much conversational power and charming manners, -whose companionship he enjoyed for the long period of forty-six -years. She became the mother of seven sons and four daughters. Dr. -Cullen’s name was now becoming known considerably beyond his native -locality, and in 1744 he removed to Glasgow, a step which he would -have taken previously but for the solicitations and promises of -the Duke and Duchess of Hamilton. His constant attendance on the -duke in his painful illness was ended by the death of the latter in -1743, which put an end to the project of a chemical laboratory and a -botanical garden at the palace, which had been among the inducements -by which he had been prevailed upon not to quit Hamilton. Henceforth, -in the intervals of practice and study, he began to occupy himself -vigorously with the founding of a medical school at Glasgow. He at -once began to lecture on medicine, and subsequently added to his -courses chemistry, materia medica, and botany, in all of which he -gave lectures not merely representing the knowledge of the time, -but also including original views of high value. The young school -grew, though not so rapidly as that of Edinburgh; but thus early he -was brought into contact with yet another great man, Joseph Black, -who was for some years his intimate pupil, and afterwards left -Glasgow for Edinburgh. Cullen discerned the promise of his pupil, -and carefully abstained from entering upon fields of research in -which he expected him to make a mark. Black submitted his treatise -on fixed air to Cullen, and dedicated it to him. About this time -Cullen made some important discoveries on the evolution of heat in -chemical combination, and the cooling of solutions, some of which -were not published till 1755, while others remained in manuscript, -but suggested to Black important points in his view of latent heat. - -At the beginning of 1751, by the interest of the Duke of Argyll, -Dr. Cullen succeeded Dr. Johnstone as Professor of Medicine in the -University of Glasgow, at the same time that Adam Smith was appointed -to the Chair of Logic; and a friendship of great intimacy arose -between these thoughtful minds. Only a few months afterwards, Adam -Smith’s transfer to the Moral Philosophy chair led Dr. Cullen to -favour strongly the election of David Hume to the vacant chair, on an -occasion when Edmund Burke was also a candidate. Neither was elected, -strict orthodoxy carrying the day. At this period the applications -of chemistry to arts and manufactures and to agriculture engaged -Cullen’s attention considerably, and he proposed to carry out a -process for purifying common salt, but it proved too expensive. - -Cullen, finding that Glasgow did not promise to build up a large -medical school at present, and being compelled to take country -practice, began to look longingly to Edinburgh, to which also his -friends were calling him. He says in a letter to William Hunter, in -August 1751, “I am quite tired of my present life; I have a good -deal of country practice, which takes up a great deal of time, and -hardly even allows me an hour’s leisure. I get but little money for -my labour; and indeed by country practice, with our payments, a man -cannot make money.” Various circumstances, however, prevented this -step being taken, until, in the beginning of 1756, he was appointed -to the professorship of chemistry at Edinburgh, and was thus fairly -launched on his notable career. In the competition for this chair, -Joseph Black had been nominated, but the two friends honourably -refused to do anything to prejudice each other, and on appointment -indeed Cullen offered Black all the fees if he would assist him. -Cullen’s first course at Edinburgh was attended by only 17 students, -his second by 59, while it rose later to 145. Practice soon came to -him, and freed him from his pecuniary struggles. - -In 1757 Dr. Cullen first undertook to give clinical lectures in the -infirmary, and in this work his especial talents shone. He had now -had sufficient experience of practice, with the best knowledge of -chemistry and materia medica that the time afforded; and his skill -in observation and graphic description of disease, added to his zeal -for imparting knowledge, soon made his clinical lectures renowned. -In these lectures, for eighteen years most carefully prepared, the -first real model of what is now so familiar to medical students as -a clinical lecture was afforded. His candour may be judged from -the following expressions: “In these lectures, however, I hazard -my credit for your instruction, my first views, my conjectures, my -projects, my trials, in short, my thoughts, which I may correct and -if necessary change; and whenever you yourselves shall be above -mistakes, or can find anybody else who is, I shall allow you to rate -me as a very inferior person. In the meantime I think I am no more -liable to mistakes than my neighbours, and therefore I shall go on -in telling you of them when they occur.” Promoted by such candour, -Cullen’s reputation rapidly grew. His lectures were remarkable -for simplicity, ingenuity, and comprehensiveness of view, with -copiousness of illustration. He taught his students to observe the -course of nature in diseases, to distinguish between essential and -accidental symptoms, and to carefully discriminate the influence of -remedies from the curative operations of nature. “There is nothing,” -he said, “I desire so much as that every disease we treat here should -be a matter of experience to you, so you must not be surprised that -I use only one remedy when I might employ two or three; for in using -a multiplicity of remedies, when a cure does succeed, it is not easy -to perceive which is most effectual.” Again, he says, “Every wise -physician is a dogmatist, but a dogmatical physician is one of the -most absurd animals that lives. We say he is a dogmatist in physic -who employs his reason, and, from some acquaintance with the nature -of the human body, thinks he can throw some light upon diseases -and ascertain the proper methods of cure; and I have known none -who were not dogmatists except those who seemed to be incapable of -reasoning, or who were too lazy for it. On the other hand, I call -him a dogmatical physician who is very ready to assume opinions, -to be prejudiced in favour of them, and to retain and assert very -tenaciously, and with too much confidence, the opinions or prejudices -which he has already taken up in common life, or in the study of -the sciences.” He sought to build up rational views of medicine, -indeed, on the basis of fact and experiment. In giving his clinical -lectures he was at great pains to choose diseases of the most common -types, as most useful to the students. He adhered to great simplicity -of prescriptions, compared with the complex and barbarous nostrums -of preceding times, and he experimentally used and introduced many -new drugs of great value, such as Cream of Tartar, Henbane, James’s -Powder, and Tartar Emetic. - -The novelty with which Cullen invested his subject and the boldness -of his views made many, especially conventional practitioners and -lecturers, regard him with disfavour, and decry him for not regarding -Boerhaave’s views as final, and for adopting those of Hoffmann in -conjunction with his own. Yet his lively and entertaining lectures, -combined with his pleasing treatment of patients, and “his manner, so -open, so kind, and so little regulated by pecuniary considerations, -made him win his way more and more. He was the friend of every family -he visited.” William Hunter writes in 1758, “I do assure you I have -never found anything in business so pleasing to me as to hear my -patients telling me, with approbation, what Dr. Cullen had done for -them, and to hear my pupils speaking with the reverence and esteem of -Dr. Cullen that is so natural to young minds.” - -As a sign of the general mental attitude of Dr. Cullen, the following -extract from a letter to his son James, on setting out for a foreign -voyage, is of interest: “Study your trade eagerly, decline no -labour, recommend yourself by briskness and diligence, bear hardships -with patience and resolution, be obliging to everybody, whether -above or below you, and hold up your head both in a literal and -figurative sense.” While he aided his juniors in the best sense to -acquire independence of character, he “admitted them freely to his -house; conversed with them on the most familiar terms; solved their -doubts and difficulties; gave them the use of his library; and, in -every respect, treated them with the affection of a friend and the -regard of a parent. It is impossible for those who personally knew -him in this relation,” says Dr. Aikin, “ever to forget the ardour -of attachment which he inspired.” Another and not less pleasing -view of Cullen is shown in his recommendation of “Don Quixote” to -Dugald Stewart when a boy suffering from some indisposition, and the -interest he manifested in his patient’s progress in that delight. He -used to talk over with the lad every successive incident, scene, and -character, manifesting the minutest accuracy of recollection of the -master-piece. - -We shall not follow the discussions which arose at Edinburgh about -the succession to Dr. Rutherford’s chair of the Practice of Physic, -nor the circumstances which led to Dr. John Gregory’s appointment. -Suffice it to say that on the death of Dr. Whytt, Cullen consented -to accept the chair of the Theory of Physic in 1766, and that -subsequently an arrangement was made by which the two professors -lectured alternately on the Theory and Practice of Physic, to -the still greater advantage of the now celebrated school. This -appointment was strongly promoted by both the Monros, and by an -address signed by 160 medical students. The arrangement now made -lasted till Dr. Gregory’s death in 1773, when Cullen became sole -Professor of the Practice of Physic. Black was brought to Edinburgh -to succeed Cullen in the Chair of Chemistry. - -Cullen’s principal works are the “Nosology,” a synopsis and -classification of diseases, with definitions, which obtained wide -popularity, although only an approximation to a sound system; and -his “First Lines of the Practice of Physic,” 4 vols., 1778-85, which -went through numerous editions. One of its especial merits was that -it pointed out more clearly than preceding works the extensive and -powerful influence of the nervous system on disease. It is now held -as the defect of his system that it was too theoretical, and that its -views were not adequately supported by facts. It cannot be denied -that Cullen had but moderate anatomical and physiological knowledge, -and this has prevented him from leaving works capable of being read -with much profit by the practitioners of the present day. - -It is after all on William Cullen’s personal influence on the School -of Medicine, which he did so much to maintain, that his fame will -chiefly rest. The character of this influence is honourable and -stainless. Dr. James Anderson has left in unequivocal language a -record of his bearing in his conspicuous position which does equal -honour to his intellectual energy and to his qualities of heart. Dr. -Cullen, he says, was employed five or six hours a day in visiting -patients and prescribing by letter; lecturing never less than two -hours a day, sometimes four; yet, when encountered, he never seemed -in a hurry or discomposed—always easy, cheerful, and sociably -inclined. He would play at whist before supper with as keen interest -as if a thousand pounds depended on it. - -Cullen did not leave his acquaintance with his students to originate -by chance, but invited them early in their attendance, by twos, -threes, and fours, to supper, and gaining their confidence about -their studies, amusements, difficulties, hopes, and prospects. Thus -he got to know all his class, and paid especial attention to those -who were most assiduous, best disposed, or most friendless. He made -a point of finding out who among them were most hampered by poverty, -and often found some polite excuse for refusing to take a fee even -for their first course, and in many cases for their second course. -One method he adopted was to express his wish to have their opinion -on a particular part of his course which had been omitted for want of -time the previous session, and he would thereupon present them with -a ticket for the second course. After two courses he did not require -any fee for further attendance. He is credited, too, with having -introduced into Edinburgh the practice of not taking fees for medical -attendance on students of the university. This ease and generosity -about money matters was the cause of his eventually dying without any -fortune. It is said that he used to put sums of money into an open -drawer, to which he and his wife went when they wanted any. - -We shall not enter here into the controversy between Dr. John Brown, -founder of the Brunonian theory of medicine, and his disciples, -and Dr. Cullen, to whom Brown had owed everything in his youth. -Brown’s system proved to be no more stable than his personal -character, although its noisy advocacy, and the abuse heaped upon him -personally, caused Dr. Cullen much pain. - -Cullen continued to deliver his lectures until 1789, having -resigned his professorship on the 30th December, and he died on the -5th February 1790, almost eighty years of age. He was buried at -Kirknewton, in which parish was situated his estate of Ormiston Hill. -This latter, which he had beautified with very great care, had to be -sold after his death for the benefit of his family. - -Dr. Anderson describes Dr. Cullen as having a striking and not -unpleasing aspect, although by no means elegant. His eye was -remarkably vivacious and expressive. In person he was tall and thin, -stooping very much in later life. In walking he had a contemplative -look, scarcely regarding the objects around him. When in Edinburgh -he rose before seven, and would often dictate to an amanuensis till -nine. At ten he commenced his visits to patients, proceeding in a -sedan chair through the narrow closes and wynds. He always lived, -while in Edinburgh, in a comparatively small house in the Mint, not -far from the seat of his academical duties. For them he may be said -to have lived and died. - - * * * * * - -The family of the Gregorys has been perhaps equally celebrated with -the Monros in connection with university life in Scotland, and has -certainly furnished it with a larger number of eminent professors. -James Gregory, the celebrated inventor of the reflecting telescope, -was the first great man of the family, and his publication of a -work on optics in 1663 marked an era in that science. His early -death in 1675, at the age of 37, deprived science of many brilliant -discoveries in prospect. His only son, James, became Professor of -Medicine in King’s College, Aberdeen, and died in 1731. - -His younger son, JOHN GREGORY, the first of the medical Gregorys -who became associated with the fame of Edinburgh, was only seven -years old when his father died in 1731. After being educated at -Aberdeen, under the care of his elder brother, who had succeeded his -father, and also under the influence of his cousin, Thomas Reid, -the well-known metaphysician, young Gregory entered at Edinburgh in -1741, and studied under the elder Monro, Sinclair, and Rutherford; -and at the Medical Society commenced a warm friendship with Mark -Akenside, author of the “Pleasures of Imagination.” In 1745-6 he -studied at Leyden under Albinus, and having received the M.D. -degree from Aberdeen during his absence, he was elected to the chair -of philosophy there on his return, and lectured there for three -years on mathematics, and moral and natural philosophy. In 1749 he -resigned this chair in order to devote himself to medicine, and in -1752 he married Elizabeth, daughter of Lord Forbes, who had beauty, -intellect, and wit, and brought him a fortune. - -Finding that Aberdeen afforded him no sufficient field for practice -in competition with his elder brother, Gregory went in 1754 to -London, where he had already friends such as Wilkes and Charles -Townshend, whom he had met at Leyden, and where he speedily made -other friends, of whom may be mentioned George, Lord Lyttelton, -Edward and Lady Mary Wortley Montagu. He was at once elected into -the Royal Society, and would no doubt have gained fashionable -support; but his elder brother dying in 1755, he was recalled to -Aberdeen to fill the Professorship of Medicine. Here he continued -to practise and to lecture till 1764, publishing in the latter year -“A Comparative View of the State and Faculties of Man with those -of the Animal World.” He then removed to Edinburgh with a view to -securing a professorship there. This fell to his lot in 1766, on -the death of Rutherford. In the same year he succeeded Dr. Andrew -Whytt as physician to the king in Scotland. He at first lectured on -the Practice of Physic solely, but in 1770 he agreed with Cullen -that they should lecture in alternate years on the Theory and the -Practice, and this arrangement was continued permanently. As a -lecturer he was very successful, simple and not in any way oratorical -in style. He was especially noted for some lectures on the “Duties -and Qualifications of a Physician,” which were afterwards published, -and went through several editions. He gave the profits to a poor and -deserving student. In 1772 he published “Elements of the Practice of -Physic,” a kind of syllabus of lectures; and this completes the list -of his medical works. His name was more known after his death as the -author of a little book of advice to young girls, “A Father’s Legacy -to his Daughters,” which has gone through very many editions. His -tone may be judged from the following extract:— - -“Do not marry a fool; he is the most untractable of all animals; he -is led by his passions and caprices, and is incapable of hearing the -voice of reason.... But the worst circumstance that attends a fool is -his constant jealousy of his wife being thought to govern him. This -renders it impossible to lead him; and he is continually doing absurd -and disagreeable things, for no other reason but to show he dares do -them.... A rake is always a suspicious husband, because he has known -only the most worthless of your sex. He likewise entails the worst -diseases on his wife and children if he has the misfortune to have -any.” - -Gregory’s predominant qualities were good sense and benevolence. -In conversation he had a warmth of tone and of gesture that were -very pleasing, united to gentleness and simplicity of manner. To his -pupils he was a friend, ever easy of access, and ready to assist them -to the utmost. His Edinburgh life was spent in intimate association -with David Hume, Lord Monboddo, Lord Kaimes, Dr. Blair, and the elder -Tytler. James Beattie loved him with enthusiastic affection, as the -closing stanzas of “The Minstrel” testify. Gregory died suddenly -on the 9th February 1773, from gout, from which he had frequently -suffered. He had thus scarcely attained the age of fifty. - -JAMES GREGORY, who succeeded his father in the professorship, -was born in Aberdeen in 1753. He was educated in Edinburgh, and -also studied for a short time at Christ Church, Oxford, where his -relation, Dr. David Gregory, had been dean. He acquired a strong -taste for classics and no little classical erudition, so that he -was throughout life fond of making apposite Latin quotations, and -wrote that language easily and accurately. He was still a student -of medicine at Edinburgh when his father’s sudden death took place -in 1773. The son by a great effort completed his father’s course -of lectures, and showed so much ability that the professorship was -practically kept open for him. In 1774 he took the M.D. degree, and -spent the next two years in studying medicine on the Continent. In -1776, being then only twenty-three, he was appointed Professor of the -Institutes of Medicine, and in the following year also commenced to -give clinical lectures at the infirmary, which method of instruction -he continued for more than twenty years. His practice at first was -not extensive, until his pupils had themselves become practitioners, -and called him in as a consultant. In his later years, after Cullen’s -death, his practice increased largely, and in the ten years preceding -his death he had the leading consulting practice in Scotland. - -In 1780-2 Gregory published his “Conspectus Medicinæ Theoreticæ,” -written in excellent Latin; it speedily became widely known, and -was extensively read not only in Britain but also on the Continent. -It has gone through numerous editions. Its more important and -valuable portions were those dealing with therapeutics. In 1790 -he was appointed Cullen’s successor in the chair of the Practice -of Medicine, and from that time continued to lecture to large -classes down to his death in 1821 (April 2). Thus he held an almost -autocratic position for the long period of over thirty years; and -it is much to be regretted that his great talents in repartee, -quick memory for telling quotations, and fondness for a joke, led -him to take an active part in the medical controversies which -have embittered so many careers in Edinburgh. The long list of -controversial books and pamphlets by Dr. Gregory, given by Mr. John -Bell in his “Letters on Professional Controversy and Manners,” 1810, -could be considerably extended, and it affords a melancholy picture -of misplaced energy. One of these extended to 700 pages quarto, and -its tone may be judged from the following extracts from the “Memorial -to the Managers of the Royal Infirmary.” - -“Let us suppose that in consequence of this memorial, every -individual member of the College of Surgeons shall, to his own share, -make forty times more noise than Orlando Furioso did at full moon -when he was maddest, and shall continue in that unparalleled state -of uproar for twenty years without ceasing. I can see no great harm -in all that noise; and no harm at all to any but those who make -it.... Ninety-nine parts in the hundred of all that noise would of -course be bestowed on me; whom it would not deprive of one hour of -my natural sleep, and to whom it would afford infinite amusement and -gratification while I am awake.” - -“We are certainly a most amiable brotherhood, as every person must -acknowledge who has had the good luck to see but a dozen and a half -or two dozen of us together, especially if he saw us at dinner. -Yet, whatever the majority of us may be, I am afraid we are not -all perfect angels. Some of us at least appear to be made of the -same flesh and blood, and to be subject to the same frailties and -passions and vices as other men. The consequence is, that when two -or three of us are set down together in a little town, or fifty or -a hundred of us in a great town, and obliged to scramble for fame, -and fortune, and daily bread, we are apt to get into rivalships, and -disputes, and altercations which sometimes end in open quarrels and -implacable animosities, to the very great annoyance of those who are, -and the no less entertainment of those who are not, our patients. A -consultation among any number of such angry physicians or surgeons -in all probability will conduce as little to the benefit of their -patient as a congress of an equal number of game-cocks turned loose -in a cock-pit, for probably the good of the patient will be the last -and least object of their thoughts.” - -Inasmuch as he takes occasion to say of John Bell, “any man, if -himself or his family were sick, should as soon think of calling in a -mad dog as Mr. John Bell,” we can judge of the position in which any -one found himself who had the misfortune to displease Dr. Gregory. -We must believe, however, on the testimony of many who knew him, -that he must have possessed many remarkable and excellent qualities -to have won so large a share of their attachment and esteem as he -undoubtedly did. Dr. Alison says of him (Encyc. Brit., 8th ed.), -that the boldness, originality, and strength of his intellect, and -the energy and decision of his character, were strongly marked in -his conversation, and that he showed both warm attachment to his -friends, and a generosity almost bordering on profusion. He disdained -to conciliate public favour, and often gave unrestrained vent to -a strongly irascible temper. He would not give up his point in -argument, and would overwhelm his opponents with quotations, jests, -and satire. - -As a teacher Gregory was conspicuous for a sound practicality. He -highly approved of a maxim which he often brought forward: “The best -physician is he who can distinguish what he can do from what he -cannot do.” Pathology in his days was a very rudimentary science, and -hence he distrusted all theories in regard to the essential nature of -disease as premature and visionary. He was at home in the study of -diagnostic and prognostic symptoms, and paid considerable attention -to the action of remedies. He had no tendency to meddlesome medicine, -restraining and discountenancing treatment when there was no hope -or prospect of success. He believed strongly in the antiphlogistic -or lowering treatment of inflammatory diseases, and in the use of -preventive measures in warding off the attacks of chronic diseases. -Thus he presented the spectacle of an advocate of temperance, of -bodily exertion without fatigue, and of mental occupation without -anxiety, who by no means followed his own prescriptions. - -As a lecturer he displayed a most ready command of language, and -an excellent memory especially for cases he had seen, the details -of which he could accurately remember from the name alone of the -patient. He gained great influence over the minds of his pupils, not -merely by the humour and the abundance of his illustrations, but -also by the outspoken exposition of his views and his commanding -energy. His frankness showed itself too in the candour with which -he communicated his opinions to the relatives or friends of his -patients. He took a genuine interest in his patients, and convinced -them of his sincerity, notwithstanding a certain roughness of manner. -Where he felt no personal antagonism he was on very cordial terms -with his professional friends, and succeeded in gaining their esteem -and regard by his manner towards them in consultation. He was, as -we have said before, the admitted autocrat of the profession in -Edinburgh in his later years, and it is much to be regretted that his -contributions to the science of medicine are so few. - -Gregory used to say that while physic had been the business, -metaphysics had been the amusement of his life. Reid dedicated -jointly to him and to Dugald Stewart his “Essays on the Intellectual -Powers;” and he was an attached friend of Thomas Brown, and -interested himself greatly in securing his succession to Dugald -Stewart in the chair of Moral Philosophy. He went so far in -philology as to publish a Theory of the Moods of Verbs in the -“Edinburgh Philosophical Transactions” for 1787. His “Literary and -Philosophical Essays,” in two volumes, (1792), dealt mainly with -the old controversy as to Liberty and Necessity. However, since he -had a strong opinion that metaphysics admits of no discoveries, it -is not surprising that his contribution to the science failed to -secure a permanent place. His fourth son, William Gregory, became a -distinguished chemist, the friend of Liebig and translator of his -“Familiar Letters on Chemistry,” and Professor of Chemistry in the -University of Edinburgh. - - * * * * * - -JOHN BELL, who comes last to be mentioned in the list of -great Edinburgh men of the eighteenth century, is linked with -the nineteenth in part by his surgical career and posthumous -“Observations on Italy,” and still more by his relationship to his -great brother, Sir Charles Bell. Every one who reads the scattered -memorials of John Bell will be filled with regret that his career -should have been blighted by controversy and what appears even -malignant opposition, led by Dr. James Gregory. His artistic tastes -and acquirements, combined with his original views on anatomy and -surgery, made him a specimen of a new genus in Edinburgh, and it is -certain that Edinburgh did not adequately appreciate him. - -John Bell, the second son of the Rev. William Bell, a clergyman of -the Scottish Episcopal Church in Edinburgh, was educated for the -medical profession by his father’s choice, in gratitude for the -relief he had received by means of a difficult surgical operation -about a month before his son’s birth, in 1763. He was apprenticed -to Alexander Wood, a well-known surgeon in 1779, for five years. He -attended the lectures of Black, Cullen, and the second Monro, and -became a fellow of the Edinburgh College of Surgeons in 1786. Monro -not being an operating surgeon, John Bell saw many defects in his -teaching as to the applications of anatomy to surgery. In fact, -surgical anatomy was never adequately taught in Edinburgh till he -himself commenced to teach, and actual dissection was little thought -of. He says, “In Dr. Monro’s class, unless there be a fortunate -succession of bloody murders, not three subjects are dissected in the -year. On the remains of a subject fished up from the bottom of a tub -of spirits are demonstrated those delicate nerves which are to be -avoided or divided in our operations; and these are demonstrated once -at the distance of one hundred feet, nerves and arteries which the -surgeon has to dissect, at the peril of his patient’s life.”[11] - -Immediately after qualifying, therefore, John Bell commenced -lecturing on anatomy and surgery on his own account, an audacious -proceeding which did not fail to draw down upon him the antagonism -of all those who stood by the old lines. He was vigorous in his -denunciation of the stereotyped methods and imperfections of the old -school of Monro and Benjamin Bell. He built a house for his courses -and practical work in Surgeons’ Square, where he carried on his work -after 1790. He soon came into popularity, and this increased as his -style became more polished and formed, being in fact the most graphic -which had appeared in the Edinburgh Medical School. He was a masterly -descriptive writer, and used all the charms of style to give interest -to his subject. Consequently his opponents said that he romanced -and exaggerated. He stuck to his text that surgery must be based -upon anatomy and pathology; and unfortunately aroused the bitterest -opposition of James Gregory, who first published an anonymous -pamphlet entitled “A Guide to the Medical Students attending the -University of Edinburgh,” warning students against attending John -Bell’s lectures. The next attack was a “Review of the Writings of -John Bell, Surgeon in Edinburgh, by Jonathan Dawplucker.” This -malignant attack, says Bell, was stuck up like a playbill, in a most -conspicuous and unusual manner, on every corner of the city; on the -door of my lecture-room, on the gates of the college, where my pupils -could not but pass, and on the gates of the infirmary, where I went -to perform my operations. - -Bell replied by adopting the nickname used by his opponent, at the -same time attacking his surgical ally in conventional methods, -Benjamin Bell, whose “System of Surgery,” in six volumes, afforded -him excellent sport. Bell says, “I neither mistook my bird, nor -missed my shot; and on the day in which the second number was -published, the great surgical work of Benjamin fell down dead.” At -this time it was customary for all the surgeons of Edinburgh who -cared to do so to operate in rotation at the infirmary, and Gregory -put forward a plan by which only a select and limited number of -surgeons were to be allowed this privilege. But the scheme was -especially aimed at securing the exclusion of John Bell, and this -Gregory accomplished in 1800. However, Bell had gained notoriety and -practice, though he had lost the hospital appointment, and apparently -all chance of a university professorship. He gave up teaching, and -devoted himself to practice. He had been instrumental in raising -the tone of university requirements and theories in his branch, and -it could not again sink to its former inferior condition. He became -the leading operator and consulting surgeon of his time. “He was not -only a bold and dexterous operator,” says Professor Struthers, “but -combined all the qualities, natural and acquired, of a great surgeon, -to an extraordinary degree. He was original and fearless, and a -thorough anatomist; he had intellect, nerve, and also language—was -master alike of head, hand, and tongue or pen; and he was laborious -as well as brilliant.” Generous himself and liberal to those who were -necessitous, he knew how to reprove niggardliness in the wealthy. On -one occasion a rich Lanarkshire laird gave him a cheque for £50 for -services which Bell considered to deserve much higher remuneration. -On reaching the outer door he met with the butler, and said to him, -“You have had considerable trouble opening the door to me, there is -a trifle for you,” and gave him his master’s cheque. The astonished -butler of course consulted his master about this mark of doubtful -favour, and the laird, understanding the hint, sent after the skilful -surgeon a cheque for £150. - -John Bell has, however, other claims to remembrance than his teaching -and his operative skill. His anatomical and surgical writings are -still worthy of consultation, and aided materially in the progress -of the science. His principal works of this class were the “Anatomy -of the Human Body,” 3 vols. (1793-1802); “Engravings of the Bones, -Muscles, and Joints,” illustrating vol. i. of the Anatomy, 1794; “On -the Nature and Cure of Wounds,” 1795; and “Principles of Surgery,” -3 vols., 1801-8. Sir Charles Bell speaks of “the rapid improvement -in the surgery of the arteries which followed the publication of -this part of the Anatomy:” and further, that it could not easily -be surpassed for correctness and minuteness of description. The -third volume of the Anatomy was by his brother Charles, under whose -subsequent editorship the book went through numerous editions, and -was translated into German. The treatise on Wounds contained clear -expositions of the novel practice of aiming at the early union -of wounds after operations, and also emphasised the importance -of the free anastomosis of arteries in all cases where injuries -were sustained by the main arterial trunks. In his “Principles of -Surgery” he gave excellent historical views of his subject, as well -as the latest and best practice founded on anatomy and physiology. -Sir Charles Bell makes the following pointed contrast between his -brother and Sir Astley Cooper, in regard to their methods: “He (John -Bell) seems ever most happy when he can support his reasoning by -the authority of those who have preceded him, and feels that he has -conferred a double benefit when he can at the same time illustrate -the truth and vindicate the character of some excellent old surgeon, -and teach the youth of the present day to look back to the history -of the profession for their most useful lessons. Sir Astley Cooper, -on the other hand, hates all authority which interferes with -his popularity; votes that volume to be an old musty one which -is dedicated to himself; omits all mention of his respectable -contemporaries; and only varies his terms of praise and eulogy on the -young men whom he flatters, journalists and connections in business, -down to the cutler who makes his instruments.” - -In 1805 John Bell married Rosina Congleton, daughter of a retired -Edinburgh physician, and in her found congeniality of tastes, an -appreciation of the artistic, literary, and musical sides of his -nature, and admirable assistance in his propensity for exercising -hospitality. His entertainments, and his own performances on the -trombone, became celebrated. His taste for art was accompanied by -remarkable skill in design and execution, in which he was only -excelled among surgeons by his own brother Charles. He never, -however, felt quite at ease after his exclusion from the infirmary. -His rivals occupying their position of authority, Dr. Gregory in -perpetual sway, could not but impress him with a sense of undeserved -failure. Early in 1816 he was thrown from his horse, and did not -recover rapidly from his injuries. In 1817 his health was so much -impaired that he went on a foreign tour with his wife, and his last -three years were spent in Italy, where his artist soul found great -delight, and where he also, had much professional practice among -English visitors to Italy. - -During his residence in Italy he was well aware of the dangerous -condition of his health, but his singular degree of spirit and ardour -of character prevented his ever betraying his consciousness of it. -A few pencilled lines, written by him before leaving Paris, express -well the inmost heart of the man whose career had presented such -outward turbulence. He says: “I have seen much of the disappointments -of life. I shall not feel them long. Sickness, in an awful and sudden -form; loss of blood, in which I lay sinking for many hours, with the -feeling of death long protracted, when I felt how painful it was not -to come quite to life, yet not to die—a clamorous dream! tell that in -no long time that must happen, which was lately so near.” He died of -dropsy, at Rome, on April 15, 1820. - -In Florence and Rome he visited all the principal galleries, and -took pencil notes of his observations, both from a scientific and -artistic point of view. These formed the main bulk of his posthumous -“Observations on Italy,” edited by his friend, Bishop Sandford of -Edinburgh, published in quarto form in 1825, subsequently in 2 vols. -8vo in 1835, with additional chapters on Naples. On their publication -they at once took high rank, from their singular combination of -artistic sympathies, literary expression, and scientific criticism. -The _New Monthly Review_, on its first page, described the language -of these observations as vigorous, terse and pure; his lights and -shadows as disposed with a masterly hand. His descriptions both -of landscapes and of manners in Italy are referred to as the most -fascinating that had yet appeared. As a specimen of this vivid -and picturesque style, showing how much his art was aided by that -quickness to perceive characteristic expressions and traits which was -so trained by his medical experience, we may quote his account of a -Lenten preacher whom he heard at Rome. - -“A sandal-footed, bare-armed, unclothed-looking monk, young, with a -pale visage and negligent aspect, stood leaning against a pillar at -the upper end of the middle nave; his grey coarse habit, girded by -various folds of thickly-knotted cords, seemed scarcely to cover his -person; his almost naked arms hanging down by his side, while his -cowl, which had fallen back, discovered a wild pallid countenance, -and a long lean bony throat. He stood silent and motionless, like -an image or statue, as if lost in meditation, or exhausted by the -vehemence of his own overwrought feelings poured out upon his -auditors. The orator had evidently reached to an elevated strain -before my entrance, leaving, as he had suddenly paused, vivid traces -of the force of his arguments on the countenances of those he -addressed. Here the spread hands, the half-opened mouth, the strained -eye, spoke an earnest yet amazed attention, while perhaps near -him stood, with silvered hair and meek aspect, the pale anchorite, -trembling while he listened, lest perchance even he might not be -secure against the punishments of the evil-doer: while beyond him -might be seen the dark, gloomy, steady gaze of the brooding fanatic, -whose flashing eye seemed to kindle with the orator, and keep pace -with his denunciations,—perhaps contrasted by the quiet unthinking -air of contented stupidity, looking as if the sense of hearing alone -were roused, or by the speaking eye, beaming with zealous fire, as if -ready to challenge or answer each new proposition. Some stood with -downcast looks, serious and reflecting; others walked softly along, -now seen, now lost among the pillars; while the larger portion, who -had been as it were surprised by their emotion into a momentary -taciturnity, were hastily forming into groups, and beginning, in -whispered accents, to converse with that eagerness and vivacity -which so peculiarly characterise their nation. But soon, above those -murmuring sounds, the full deep-toned voice of the preacher struck -the ear, when suddenly all was again hushed to silence. Slow and -solemn he opened his discourse; but, as he proceeded, his features -became gradually more animated; his dark deep eloquent eye kindling -as he spoke, and throwing momentary radiance over his wan and -haggard countenance, while the round mellow tones of the Italian -language gave the finest energy to his expressions. With frequent -pauses, but with increasing power, he continued his discourse; his -voice now low and solemn, now grand and forcible, but still with -moderated and ever-varied accents, which worked on the feelings, at -one moment producing the chill of strong emotion, and then, as he -changed his tone, melting the heart to tenderness. The object of -his sermon and self-imposed mission was to gain votaries, and win -them to a monastic life, by portraying the dangers, the turbulence, -and the sorrows of the worldly, contrasted with the peaceful -serenity of the heaven-devoted mind. Occasionally, as if warmed by -a prophetic spirit, with an air now imploring and plaintive, now -wild and triumphant, with animated gesture and tossing of the arms, -alternately pointing to heaven and to the shades below, he seemed as -if he would seduce, persuade, or tear his victim from the world. The -powers of his voice and action gave an indescribable force to his -language, carrying away the minds of his auditors with a rapidity -that left no pause for reflection. The sombre chastened light of day -bringing forward some objects in strong relief, and leaving others -in shade, the peculiar aspect of the monk, the magic influence which -seemed to hang on his words and lend force to his eloquence, gave to -the whole scene a character at once singular and striking.” - -John Bell was below middle stature, of good figure, active, with -regular features, keen penetrating eyes, and highly intellectual -expression. His widow says of him: “To a classical taste and -knowledge of drawing (many of his professional designs being finely -executed by his own hand) he joined a mind strongly alive to the -beauties of nature. He would often, in his earlier years, yield -to the enjoyment they produced, and, wandering among the wild and -grand scenery of his native land, indulge his imagination in gazing -on the rapid stream or watch the coming storm. Such habits seem -to have tended, in some measure, to form his character; training -him especially to independence in judgment, and perseverance in -investigation, that led him to seek knowledge, and boldly publish his -opinions. With warm affections and sanguine temper, he looked forward -with the hope that his labours and reputation would one day assuredly -bring independence; and meanwhile, listening only to the dictates of -an enthusiastic nature, and yielding to the impulse of feeling, he -would readily give his last guinea, his time, and his care, to any -who required them. Judging of others by himself, he was too confiding -in friendship, and too careless in matters of business; consequently -from the one he was exposed to disappointment, and from the other -involved in difficulties and embarrassments which tinged the colour -of his whole life.” - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[11] “Letters on the Education of a Surgeon,” by John Bell, 1810. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -_WILLIAM AND JOHN HUNTER AND THE APPLICATIONS OF ANATOMY AND -PHYSIOLOGY TO SURGERY._ - - -It is somewhat surprising that anatomy, the necessary basis of a -sound treatment of the human body in disease, should have so long -remained comparatively uncultivated in this country as a practical -art, after Harvey had led the way and shown how brilliant discoveries -might be made by dissection. Continental schools certainly put to -shame early English efforts in anatomy: and it would appear not easy -to establish in England any new study, unless the subject is one from -which large pecuniary profits may immediately be anticipated—in which -enterprise there can be no sort of merit. When a man has attained -some reputation as an anatomist or physiologist, all the efforts of -British society seem to be directed towards taking him away from that -pursuit of which he has proved himself an ornament, and converting -him into a man whose business it is to cure private ailments, thereby -preventing him but too successfully, in most instances, from -pursuing that for which he has shown conspicuous talent. Thus we find -Cheselden, whose publication of an Anatomy of the Human Body, in -1713, and Osteography in 1733, had shown great anatomical ability, -was carried into a large private practice. And William Hunter, the -founder of the first great anatomical museum, was diverted from his -proper studies to become an obstetrician, in order to obtain money -for his special objects. - -WILLIAM HUNTER, whose name has been previously mentioned in -our account of Cullen, was born on May 23, 1718, at Kilbride, -Lanarkshire, being the seventh of ten children of John and Agnes -Hunter. At fourteen he was sent to Glasgow for his education, -remaining there five years, it being his father’s wish that he should -enter the Church. Imbibing liberal opinions, he soon became averse -to this proposal, and his intimacy with Dr. Cullen determined his -thoughts towards medicine. In 1737 he became Cullen’s resident pupil -at Hamilton, and remained with him three years. It was then agreed -that he should go and study medicine at Edinburgh and London, and -afterwards return to Hamilton to a partnership with his master. Their -mutual attachment was lifelong. - -The winter of 1740-1 was spent by William Hunter at Edinburgh, where -Monro primus was then teaching anatomy. The following summer he went -to London, and obtained the position of assistant to Dr. Douglas, who -was then engaged on a great book on osteology, which he did not live -to complete, the education of Dr. Douglas’s son being also placed in -his charge. He considered this offer so inviting that he remained -in London, although it was contrary to the wishes of his now aged -father, who thought the arrangement with Dr. Cullen preferable. The -father died on the 30th October following, aged 78. - -The young man soon became expert in dissection, and he entered as a -surgeon’s pupil at St. George’s Hospital. His prospects were soon -after clouded by the death of Dr. Douglas, but his residence in the -family was not interrupted. As early as 1743 he communicated to the -Royal Society a paper on the Structure and Diseases of Articulating -Cartilages; and thereafter was occupied in preparing to commence -teaching anatomy. His opportunity came in 1746, when Mr. Samuel -Sharpe gave up a course of lectures on surgery, which he had been -delivering to a society of navy surgeons in Covent Garden, and -recommended William Hunter in his place. His lectures were found so -satisfactory that they asked him to extend his course to anatomy. He -had great timidity in lecturing at first, but soon gained confidence. -One of his pupils who accompanied him home after his introductory -lecture, relates that he carried his fees for the course, amounting -to seventy guineas, in a bag under his cloak, and that he remarked -that it was a larger sum than he had ever been master of before. The -profits of these courses he expended in no niggardly spirit, to a -large extent in befriending others, and he was consequently unable -to begin his next season’s lectures at the proper time, owing to lack -of means to advertise their commencement. He learnt a salutary lesson -by this delay, for he found that by so far straining his resources -he had only encouraged the idleness of his friends. This made him -for the future cautious of lending money, and more economical than -before, and may be said to have laid the foundation of his fortune. - -In 1747 William Hunter was admitted a member of the College of -Surgeons, and in the spring took a continental journey, in which -he met Albinus at Leyden. Although he commenced practice as a -surgeon, he gradually discontinued it when he began to succeed as an -accoucheur, being appointed surgeon-accoucheur to both the Middlesex -Hospital and the British Lying-in Hospital. His conciliating manners -and pleasing address contributed to make him popular in this branch -of practice. In 1750 he obtained the degree of M.D. from the -University of Glasgow, and about the same time ceased to reside -with Mrs. Douglas, and went to Jermyn Street, so long associated -with the Hunters. In 1751 he visited his home at Long Calderwood, -Kilbride, and gratified his affection for Dr. Cullen, who had now -become established at Glasgow. As Cullen was one day riding with him, -he pointed out to Hunter how conspicuous Long Calderwood was from a -distance, when the latter replied with energy, “Well, if I live, I -shall make it still more conspicuous.” This, however, was his only -visit to his native place after his settling in London. - -William Hunter joined the College of Physicians in 1755, and the -Medical Society about the same time. His “History of an Aneurism of -the Aorta,” appears in the first volume published by that Society, in -1757. In regard to aneurisms he had made many original observations, -such as to place the subject in a totally new aspect. Several papers -he contributed to this Society bear directly on problems of interest -in midwifery and the diseases of women. - -It was in 1762 that the first edition of the “Medical Commentaries” -appeared, in which Monro secundus was severely attacked for having -claimed as his own discoveries which William Hunter had, years -before, promulgated at his lectures. It is to be regretted that in -regard to these very matters, as well as others, disputes afterwards -arose between William Hunter and his brother John, who it appears -had made at least some of these discoveries, while engaged as -assistant to his brother. In respect of a number of these, the elder -brother gave credit to his junior both when lecturing and in his -publications; in regard to others, the elder gave no credit at all -when John conceived himself entitled to much, or all, of the praise -of originality. Both brothers were strikingly sensitive as to their -claims to originality, and William Hunter on several occasions -seems to have regarded a new demonstration as his property because -made in his dissecting-room, though not by himself. Yet we find it -recorded that in the winter 1762-3, when the brothers had separated, -William Hunter would frequently say in his lectures: “In this I am -only my brother’s interpreter”—“I am simply the demonstrator of -this discovery; it was my brother’s.” We must recur to this subject -later, merely mentioning now, that John Hunter acted as his brother’s -assistant and dissected for him from 1748, and that from 1755 to 1760 -a certain portion of the lectures was delivered by him; in 1760 they -separated. - -There is no question that in general education, in manners, in -delivery, in all that makes the successful lecturer and the -attractive practitioner, William Hunter greatly excelled his -brother. Dr. Baillie has said of him, “No one ever possessed more -enthusiasm for his art, more persevering industry, more acuteness of -investigation, more perspicuity of expression, or indeed, a greater -share of natural eloquence. He excelled very much any lecturer whom I -have ever heard in the clearness of his arrangements, the aptness of -his illustrations, and the elegance of his diction.” If it were not -for the tenacity with which he pursued controversial topics, and his -unfortunate disagreement with his brother, there would be nothing to -mar the pleasurable nature of the picture of William Hunter. The way -in which he himself viewed this side of his character may be gathered -from the following extract from the Supplement to his Medical -Commentaries, published in 1777. - -“It is remarkable, that there is scarce a considerable character in -anatomy, that is not connected with some warm controversy. Anatomists -have ever been engaged in contention. And indeed, if a man has not -such a decree of enthusiasm, and love of the art, as will make him -impatient of unreasonable opposition, and of encroachments upon his -discoveries and his reputation, he will hardly become considerable in -anatomy, or in any other branch of natural knowledge. - -“These reflections afford some comfort to me, who unfortunately -have been already engaged in two public disputes. I have imitated -some of the greatest characters, in what is commonly reckoned their -worst part: but I have also endeavoured to be useful; to improve and -diffuse the knowledge of anatomy: and surely it will be allowed here, -that if I have not been serviceable to the public in this way, it has -not been for want of diligence, or love of the service. - -“It has likewise been observed of anatomists, that they are all -liable to the error of being severe on each other in their disputes. -Perhaps from being in the habit of examining objects with care and -precision, they may be more disgusted with rash assertions, and -false reasoning. From the habit of guarding against being deceived -by appearances, and of finding out truth, they may be more than -ordinarily provoked by any attempt to impose upon them; and for -anything that we know, the passive submission of dead bodies, their -common objects, may render them less able to bear contradiction.” - -It would have been pleasing if we could have related that William -Hunter allowed supreme merit to any one anatomist or physiologist -who preceded him. But we find him saying about Harvey: “In merit, -Harvey’s rank must be comparatively low indeed. So much had been -discovered by others, that little more was left for him to do, than -to dress it up into a system; and that, every judge on such matters -will allow, required no extraordinary talents. Yet, easy as it was, -it made him immortal. But none of his writings show him to have been -a man of uncommon abilities.” Dr. Hunter must surely have been aware -that this was carping criticism, for on a preceding page he had -spoken of Harvey as a first-rate genius for sagacity and application. - -The years after his brother’s secession brought Dr. Hunter to the -summit of professional success. His obstetric knowledge and skill -were known to be so great that he was called in to consultation -respecting the Queen in 1762. Two years later he was appointed -physician extraordinary to her majesty. His increasing engagements -soon left him little time for his dissecting-room and lectures, -and he engaged as assistant one of his pupils, William Hewson, and -afterwards took him into partnership in his lectures. But this -connection was severed, owing to disputes, in 1770, and Hewson -commenced lecturing on his own account, and achieved great success, -which was cut short, however by his early death from fever in 1774. -Cruickshank was his successor with Dr. Hunter, and continued his -partner till the death of the latter. - -In 1768, the year after his election into the Royal Society, -William Hunter was appointed the first Professor of Anatomy to the -newly-founded Royal Academy, and he entered upon this field of work -with great vigour, applying his anatomical knowledge to painting and -sculpture with his usual success. On the death of Dr. Fothergill he -was elected President of the Society of Physicians, now the Medical -Society of London. - -The most remarkable work which William Hunter published was a great -series of folio plates of the Human Gravid Uterus, begun in 1751, -and published in 1775. In the dedication of this work to the King he -acknowledged that in most of the dissections he had been assisted -by his brother, “whose accuracy in anatomical researches is so well -known,” he says, “that to omit this opportunity of thanking him for -that assistance would be in some measure to disregard the future -reputation of the work itself.” But this acknowledgment did not -content John Hunter, who claimed the original merit of most of the -discoveries his brother announced, and communicated a full account to -the Royal Society in 1780, five years after his brother’s work was -published. At the next meeting of the Society William Hunter replied -to his brother’s claims, and John rejoined. The consequence was that -the Society published nothing on the subject, but retained the papers -of both in manuscript. The anatomical description of William Hunter’s -plates was completed by his nephew, Dr. Baillie, and published in -1794. - -A still more important work, as regarded costliness, was the -formation of the museum, which still remains for the benefit of -students as the Hunterian Museum in Glasgow University. Economical -from the first, as regarded his personal expenses, William Hunter, -after laying aside a sufficient sum to provide for old age or -sickness, applied his thoughts to the foundation of an anatomical -school in London. During Mr. Grenville’s administration, in 1765, he -petitioned him for the grant of a piece of ground on which to build -an anatomical theatre, undertaking to spend £7000 on the building, -and to endow a permanent professorship of anatomy. It can hardly -be believed that such a munificent offer was rejected; but it was -the middle of the eighteenth century, and the government pension to -Dr. Johnson was probably considered the utmost stretch of public -countenance to learning and science. Lord Shelburne, it is true, -expressed a wish that Dr. Hunter’s proposal might be carried out by -means of a general subscription, and offered himself to contribute a -thousand guineas. But William Hunter was not the man to depend for -the execution of his projects upon an appeal of this kind, and he -consequently purchased a plot of ground in Great Windmill Street, -near the Haymarket, where he built a suitable house for his own -residence, with a lecture-theatre, dissecting-rooms, and a handsome -room for a museum. To this he removed in 1770 from Jermyn Street. -He had already a very large collection of human, comparative, and -morbid anatomy, which he continued to augment. He purchased all the -best collections of morbid and other anatomical specimens that were -offered for sale, such as those of Sandys, Falconer (which included -Hewson’s), and Blackall. To these were added numerous specimens of -rare diseases, presented to him by medical friends and pupils. We -discern the light in which he viewed these gifts by the following -statement in one of his publications: “I look upon everything of -this kind which is given to me as a present to the public, and -consider myself as thereby called upon to serve the public with more -diligence.” And the museum was always open to the many visitors who -were attracted by its fame. - -Dr. Hunter’s tastes expanded. He collected fossils, rare books, -and coins. Dr. Harwood described his library as including the -most magnificent treasure of Greek and Latin books that had -been accumulated by any person then living. The anatomist even -discovered a bibliographical novelty in comparing two copies of the -Aldine edition of Theocritus, which he found to present material -differences, though representing the same edition. The collection -of coins in this museum was of such value and importance that an -illustrated quarto was devoted to the description of a portion of -them by William Combe. The preface gives an account of the progress -of the collection, which had now cost no less than twenty thousand -pounds. - -Another important addition was made to the museum in 1781 in the -shape of Dr. Fothergill’s collection of shells, corals, and other -natural history specimens. Dr. Fothergill’s will directed that -William Hunter should have the first refusal of the museum at five -hundred pounds less than its value as ascertained by appraisement, -and Dr. Hunter eventually made the purchase for twelve hundred pounds. - -This noble museum was left by his will, not to his brother John, -but to his nephew Dr. Baillie, and in case of his death to Mr. -Cruickshank, for thirty years, at the end of which time the -collection was to go to the University of Glasgow. Dr. Baillie, -however, handed it over to Glasgow before the time specified. Eight -thousand pounds was also left to keep up and increase the collection. - -Dr. Hunter never retired from practice, although much tormented -by gout in his later years. He thought at one time of settling -down somewhere in Scotland, when suffering more than usual from -ill-health, but having found the title of an estate offered him -to be defective, and also having to provide for his constantly -increasing museum expenses, he laid aside his intention. He continued -most persevering both in his practice and in his lectures, -notwithstanding his augmented sufferings, until on the 15th of -March 1783 he was almost prostrated. On the 20th, however, he would -deliver his lecture introductory to the operations of surgery, -notwithstanding the dissuasions of his friends. Towards the end of -his lecture he fainted, and had to be carried to bed by two servants. -In the following night he had an attack of partial paralysis, from -which he did not rally. During his illness he said to his friend, -Mr. Combe, “If I had strength enough to hold a pen, I would write -how easy and pleasant a thing it is to die.” His brother John was -admitted to see and attend him on his deathbed, and no hint of -disagreement on these occasions is given. William Hunter died on -the 30th March 1783, in his sixty-fifth year, and was buried at St. -James’s Church, Piccadilly. - -William Hunter was of an elegant figure, slender, and rather below -the middle height. The portrait of him by Sir Joshua Reynolds adorns -the Hunterian Museum at Glasgow. An unfinished painting by Zoffany -represents him in the attitude of lecturing on the muscles at the -Royal Academy, surrounded by academicians. Hunter’s portrait is the -only completed part. It was presented to the College of Physicians by -Mr. Bransby Cooper in 1829. - -We hear of no matrimonial projects at any time on William Hunter’s -part. He was wedded to his museum, his profession, his lectures. He -lived a frugal life, eating little food, and that plainly prepared; -rising early, and being always at work. When he invited friends to -dine with him, he seldom provided more than two courses, and he -often said, “A man who cannot dine on one dish deserves to have no -dinner.” A single glass of wine was handed after dinner to each -guest. Some accused him of parsimony. The truth is that he did not -relish the amusements and luxuries in which most people indulge, but -he was by no means parsimonious as to the pursuits in which he found -real pleasure. His biographer, Dr. Foart Simmons, says: “There was -something very engaging in his manner and address, and he had such -an appearance of attention to his patients when he was making his -inquiries as could hardly fail to conciliate their confidence and -esteem. In consultation with his medical brethren, he delivered his -opinions with diffidence and candour. In familiar conversation he was -cheerful and unassuming. All who knew him allow that he possessed -an excellent understanding, great readiness of perception, a good -memory, and a sound judgment.” - -Dr. Hunter made no bequest to his brother John; but he knew that the -latter was well established and successful. Still, his bequest of the -family estate at Long Calderwood to his nephew, Dr. Baillie, appears -not to have been altogether satisfactory to the latter, who handed -it over to his uncle John. Dr. Hunter left an annuity of £100 to his -sister, Mrs. Baillie, for life, and £2000 to each of her daughters. -Dr. Baillie was his residuary legatee. - - * * * * * - -The name of JOHN HUNTER recalls the glories of a great medical -school, the labours of an indefatigable dissector, the skill of a -brilliant operating surgeon, and the formation of the noblest of the -Hunterian museums, that of Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields, the richest heritage -of the London College of Surgeons. The youngest son of the same -parents as William Hunter, John was the child of his father’s old -age, the latter approaching seventy at John’s birth on February 13th, -1728. The father died when John was ten years old, and his mother -appears to have been extremely indulgent to her youngest child, -and so little controlled his desires for amusements that he left -the local grammar-school almost destitute of classical knowledge, -which formed, of course, the staple instruction there imparted. The -imperfection of his general early education was a painful drawback to -John Hunter all his life. - -There is no doubt that when about seventeen John went to Glasgow on a -visit to his sister, Mrs. Buchanan, whose husband, a cabinet-maker, -was failing to get on in business, owing to his musical and social -qualities. How far John took part in the business is not recorded, -but it is likely that he owed much of his mechanical skill to what -he learnt at the shop, which seemed to stick to him much more -closely than any book-learning. Finding his efforts to relieve his -sister from her difficulties ineffectual, he returned home to Long -Calderwood. Mrs. Buchanan died in 1749. - -We have extremely little knowledge of the workings of John Hunter’s -mind in his youth, or how far he was conscious of the great talents -that were awaiting the appropriate incentive. His being much given -to country amusements is all that we know. At length he tired of -having no profession, and his brother William’s success attracted -him to London. He begged that he might pay a visit to him, and be -his assistant in anatomy, if possible. The request being acceded -to, John arrived in London in September 1748, was at once set to -work upon a dissection of the muscles of the arm to illustrate his -brother’s lectures, and succeeded beyond expectation. He was now -established in his brother’s dissecting-room in the winter, and in -the summer attended Chelsea Hospital under Cheselden. It was evident -that John had found an occupation suited to his capabilities, and -in his second season he was placed in full charge of the pupils in -the dissecting-room, while Dr. Hunter almost confined himself to his -lectures. In 1751 John became a pupil at St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, -where Percival Pott was then a leading surgeon. In 1754 he was -entered as a surgeon’s pupil at St. George’s Hospital, where a chance -of a surgeoncy was more likely than at St. Bartholomew’s. In 1756 he -was for some months house-surgeon at St. George’s. - -Between these two last dates he became temporarily resident at -Oxford, where his name was put down at St. Mary’s Hall, June 5, 1755. -Probably the idea was that he should become a physician, taking an -Oxford degree in medicine; but he was in no humour “to stuff Latin -and Greek at the University;” and he never conquered his aversion to -classics. Long afterwards he wrote: “Jesse Foot[12] accuses me of -not understanding the dead languages; but I could teach him that on -the dead body which he never knew in any language dead or living.” -The last entry of charges for battels against John’s name in the -buttery-book of St. Mary’s Hall occurs on July 25, 1755, so that -he probably resided less than two months. His name was kept on the -books, however, till December 10, 1756. - -The only variation we hear of in his constant round of work was a -visit John paid to his home in 1752. In 1755 John was admitted to -a certain degree of partnership in Dr. Hunter’s lectures; besides -undertaking a definite part of the course, he was to supply his -brother’s place when absent on professional engagements. This was -a serious source of discomfort; the younger Hunter’s defective -education here became prominent. We may take a description of his -style of lecturing at a later period from his avowed enemy, Foot, -but it will be well to deduct one half from it as the product of -animosity. “In the beginning, these lectures were written on detached -pieces of paper; and such was the natural confusion of his mind, -that he would be frequently found incapable of explaining his own -opinions, from his notes; and after having in vain tried to recall -the transitory ideas, now no longer floating in the mind, nor -obedient to the will—after having in vain rubbed up his face, and -shut his eyes, to invite disobedient recollection—he would throw the -subject by, and take up another.” - -Meanwhile, passing laborious days in the dissecting-room, John was -becoming a more perfect anatomist than his brother, and began making -discoveries on his own account, some of which William demurred to -at first, but usually accepted and brought forward in his lectures, -giving John credit for them. Among other discoveries of this time -may be mentioned that of the ramifications of the nerves of smell in -the nose, the unravelling of branches of the fifth nerve, previously -unknown, the tracing of the arteries in the gravid uterus, and the -existence of lymphatic vessels in birds. Other discoveries made by -John Hunter are described in William Hunter’s Medical Commentaries. -But it soon appeared that the younger brother felt he did not receive -a due share of praise and acknowledgment of his labours, while the -elder considered every discovery made in his dissecting-room as more -or less his property. John continued to dissect “with an ardour -and perseverance of which there is hardly any example. His labours -were so useful to his brother’s collection, and so gratifying to -his disposition, that although in many other respects they did not -agree, this simple tie kept them together for many years” (Sir E. -Home). - -John gradually became led into the study of comparative anatomy, from -finding that structures which were complex in the human subject were -simpler in animals, or different in plan, in both cases throwing -light on human anatomy and physiology. Thus he made dissections -of all the commoner animals, and always preserved the parts which -interested him. He soon passed beyond the ordinary range, and made -acquaintance with the keeper of the Tower menagerie, that he might -obtain the bodies of such animals as died there. Similarly he even -would purchase animals when alive, from travelling showmen, simply -requiring them to bring him their bodies whenever they happened to -die. He bought all rare animals that came in his way: others were -presented to him by friends, and thus an ample supply of material was -secured. - -There is some obscurity about the reasons which induced the younger -brother in 1760 to accept an appointment as staff-surgeon in the -army, joining the expedition to Belleisle in 1761. There is not much -doubt, however, that his health had suffered, and that a foreign -voyage and residence were calculated to restore him. In 1762 he was -employed with the army in Portugal, and in this experience laid -the foundation of his knowledge of military surgery. During this -expedition he neglected no opportunity of forwarding his studies in -comparative anatomy and physiology. Thus when at Belleisle, in order -to discover whether animals in a state of hibernation could digest -food, he introduced worms and pieces of meat into the stomachs of -lizards, and kept them under observation in a cool place. He found -the substances so introduced remained perfectly undigested. So in -1762, near Lisbon, he tested the hearing of fishes by observing the -effect of the report of a gun upon the inhabitants of a nobleman’s -fish-pond. - -Retiring from the army after the peace of 1763, John Hunter found -his place in his brother’s dissecting-room occupied by Mr. Hewson, a -most capable dissector and lecturer. Hence he had no option but to -depend on his own exertions, and he started in London practice as a -surgeon in Golden Square. He found that practice came but slowly, and -formed a class for the study of anatomy and practical surgery to add -to his income. This, too, never proved nearly so remunerative as his -brother’s lectures, owing to John’s defects of style and expression -already mentioned. His success in practice was also retarded by his -refusal or failure to employ any of the arts or tact needed to gain -personal popularity. Although he was a good convivial companion, -at any rate in his earlier days, any festive enjoyment was always -subordinated to his zeal for a new specimen or a rare case, from -which he could learn something. He would take any trouble, or go -any distance, with these ends in view; while his feeling about an -ordinary case may be gathered from a remark to his attached friend, -Lynn, as he laid aside his dissecting instruments—“Well, Lynn, I -must go and earn this d——d guinea, or I shall be sure to want it -to-morrow.” Mere fashionableness Hunter could not tolerate. Dr. -Garthshore, a physician of the old school, always formal, polite, -and well dressed, accosting him one day in his dissecting-room with -his usual _empressement_, “My d-e-a-r John Hunter,”—was astonished -to hear the mocking reply, “My d-e-a-r Tom Fool.” The busy dissector -was not likely to value highly the formalities of the courtly doctor, -who as a contemporary remarks, “occasionally looked in, wound up his -watch, and fell asleep.” - -Finding his collection of live animals grow beyond his means of -providing for them in town, Hunter purchased a considerable piece -of ground at Earl’s Court, then about two miles outside London, -and built upon it a house with a lawn behind it, upon and around -which he kept a collection of curious variety, and sometimes under -comparatively slight control, in order that their habits might the -more readily be watched. On one occasion two leopards got loose, and -one was scaling the boundary wall, while the other was engaged in -combat with dogs, when Mr. Hunter, unarmed, went out and seized them -both and replaced them in their outhouse; an act of courage which, -when it was over, nearly caused him to faint. - -In 1767 an accident by which Mr. Hunter ruptured his tendo Achillis, -whether while dancing, or in getting up from the dissecting-table -after being cramped by long sitting, is not certain, occasioned -him to study carefully the process by which ruptured tendons are -healed. His method of treating himself was to keep the heel raised, -and to compress the muscle gently with a roller, thus preventing -any spasmodic contraction. He divided the same tendon in several -dogs, killing them subsequently at different periods to examine the -progress and nature of the repair; and his experiments and specimens -were the origin of the present practice of cutting through tendons -for the relief of distorted and contracted joints. - -In the same year, 1767, Mr. Hunter was elected into the Royal -Society, before his brother—an evidence that his eager investigations -were already making him well known to men of inquiring minds. -At a later period he was one of the originators of meetings at -a coffee-house to discuss papers before their submission to the -Society generally. In 1768 he became a member of the Royal College of -Surgeons, and in the same year, supported by his brother’s interest, -he was elected surgeon to St. George’s Hospital by 114 to 42 votes. -He was now in a position in which more patients were at his disposal -for experimental or novel modes of treatment, and in which he could -take resident pupils on advantageous terms. In 1770 his brother’s -removal to his new premises in Great Windmill Street, led to John’s -transfer to his brother’s late house in Jermyn Street, where he -found much more ample accommodation for his work than he had hitherto -possessed. Here among his earliest pupils was Dr. Jenner, who was -an enthusiastic disciple, and whom Mr. Hunter would gladly have -permanently associated with him. He kept up a continual and intimate -correspondence with him throughout life, often asking Dr. Jenner for -information on questions of natural history. - -Soon after his removal to Jermyn Street, namely, in July 1771, -Mr. Hunter married Anne, eldest daughter of Mr. Robert Home, an -army surgeon, father of his subsequent pupil and associate, Sir -Everard Home. He had been engaged to Miss Home for some years, but -financial reasons had hitherto postponed the marriage. Mrs. Hunter -had artistic, literary, and musical tastes, which to some extent, -by their expense, trenched on her husband’s scientific objects. She -is remembered as the author of the words of a number of Haydn’s -English canzonets, including the celebrated one, “My mother bids me -bind my hair.” Mr. Hunter sometimes found that his wife’s friends -were too fashionable or frivolous for his taste, and occasionally -his irritation got the better of his manners. It is related that -once, returning late in the evening after a wearisome day’s work, he -unexpectedly found his drawing-room filled with gay company, walked -straight into the room, and addressed the assembly in these terms: -“I knew nothing of this kick-up, and I ought to have been informed -of it beforehand; but as I am now returned home to study, I hope the -present company will now retire:” a hope speedily realised. Hunter -much preferred the weekly social assemblies at which his scientific -friends were welcomed, and where the conversation was pointed and -informing. Still there is no ground for reflecting on the general -happiness of Mr. Hunter’s married life. Of his two children who -survived infancy, he often said that if he had been allowed to -bespeak a pair of children, they should have been those with which -Providence had favoured him. His wife survived him till 1821, when -she died in her 79th year. - -Early in 1771 Mr. Hunter published his first work of any magnitude, -the first part of his “Treatise on the Natural History of the Human -Teeth,” which long continued a standard work, largely appropriated -by subsequent writers. The second part, treating of the diseases of -the teeth, did not appear till 1778. In 1772 he made his mark at -the Royal Society by his celebrated paper on the digestion of the -stomach after death, which he attributed to the action of the gastric -juice upon the dead tissues. His stores of knowledge and learning -were afterwards made evident by many papers in the “Philosophical -Transactions,” of which the principal were those on the torpedo -(1773), on the air receptacles of birds, and on the Gillaroo trout, -1774; the production of heat by animals and vegetables, 1775; the -recovery of persons apparently drowned, 1776; the communication of -smallpox to the fœtus in utero, 1780; the organ of hearing in fishes, -1782; the specific identity of the wolf, jackal, and dog, and on the -structure and economy of whales, 1787; observations on bees, 1793; -and on some remarkable caves in Bayreuth, and fossil bones found -therein, 1794. The titles of these papers, however, convey but a -very imperfect idea of the wide range of subjects treated in them. -When he described a structure, he made it the starting-point of a -dissertation, in the course of which he brought to bear all his vast -stores of knowledge to establish general principles or to illustrate -important points of physiology. - -In the autumn of 1772 his brother-in-law, Everard Home, became his -pupil. He describes Hunter’s museum at this time as already having -an imposing magnitude. All the best rooms in the house were devoted -to it, and it was continually being enlarged by his unremitting -toil. From six, or earlier, till nine, when he breakfasted, Hunter -dissected; after breakfast till twelve he was at home to patients. -Punctuality he observed to a fault. He would leave patients at home -in order to start punctually to his outside consultations, “for,” -said he, “these people can take their chance another day, and I -have no right to waste the valuable time of other practitioners by -keeping them waiting for me.” He kept one book at home in which to -enter these, and had an exact copy of it always in his waistcoat -pocket: thus those at home by referring to the book could invariably -find him. Once his former pupil, Cline, having to meet Hunter in -consultation, made a second arrangement, unknown to Hunter, to -take him to see another patient of his immediately after. Hunter’s -outburst of passion at this unjustifiable disturbance of his -arrangements for the afternoon was with difficulty appeased. His -punctuality at dinner, at four, was equally settled, but he strictly -ordered that dinner should be served whether he were at home or -not. For many years he drank no wine, and sat but a short time at -table, except when he had company; but he nevertheless pressed the -guests to disregard his example. “Come, fellow,” said he, in his -usual blunt way, to Mr., afterwards Sir William, Blizard, “why don’t -you drink your wine?” The guest pleaded in excuse a whitlow, which -caused him much pain. Hunter would not allow the validity of the -plea, but continued to urge him and ridicule his excuse. “Come, come, -John,” said Mrs. Hunter, “you will please to remember that you were -delirious for two days when you had a boil on your finger some time -ago.” This turned the laugh against Hunter, who ceased to importune -his guest. - -In addition to his own pre-eminent industry, Hunter was not without -the most important talent of making others’ labours advance his ends. -Thus for fourteen years he employed a very capable young artist -named Bell, keeping him resident in his house, occupied in making -drawings, and anatomical preparations, and generally in museum work. -Bell was frequently called in also to act as Hunter’s amanuensis. -After he left Mr. Hunter, in 1789, he became an assistant-surgeon -under the East India Company, settling at Bencoolen, where his -zoological studies were continued with much promise of great -achievement; but, unfortunately for science, he died of fever in 1792. - -In 1772 Hunter began to lecture on the theory and practice of -surgery, at first to his pupils and a few friends admitted -gratuitously, but afterwards on payment of a fee of four guineas. -This may be accounted the first introduction into this country, -perhaps to any, of the idea of principles of surgery, and the -necessity of a rational explanation of processes of repair, and of -a scientific basis for operations. Instead of a study of anatomy -alone being required by a surgeon, he elevated pathology into its -true position, and brought in all the aids with which physiology and -comparative anatomy could at that time illuminate the subject. But -in advance of any of these aids was his own clear insight, which -penetrated to the core of a question, and often brought out truth -which he could not himself explain, or only imperfectly. He never -overcame his difficulty in lecturing; at the commencement of each -course he always composed himself by a draught of laudanum. His -lectures, delivered on alternate evenings from October to April, -were given from seven to eight o’clock. His class was usually -comparatively small, never exceeding thirty; but the quality of his -audience was good, as may be gathered from its having included Astley -Cooper, Cline, Abernethy, Carlisle, Chevalier, and Macartney. He -never became an attractive lecturer; from deficiency in extempore -speaking, he was compelled to read his lectures, and seldom raised -his eyes from his manuscript. His manner was frequently ungraceful, -but his matter was for the most part highly intelligible and luminous -to those of his hearers who came prepared by thought and attainments -to be really edified, while he was often unintelligible to those -who had no practice in thinking for themselves and desired to keep -clear of that odious pain. In his lectures he was equally unsparing -towards his own and others’ errors, and he never clung to his own -past opinions. “Never ask me,” he replied to a question, “what I have -said or what I have written; but if you will ask me what my present -opinions are, I will tell you.” - -The following extract from Ottley[13] gives an interesting view -of Hunter’s after-dinner habits. “After dinner he was accustomed -to sleep for about an hour, and his evenings were spent either in -preparing or delivering lectures, in dictating to an amanuensis the -records of particular cases, of which he kept a regular entry, or -in a similar manner committing to paper the substance of any work on -which he chanced to be engaged. When employed in the latter way, Mr. -Bell and he used to retire to the study, the former carrying with -him from the museum such preparations as related to the subject on -which Hunter was engaged: these were placed on the table before him, -and at the other end sat Mr. Bell, writing from Hunter’s dictation. -The manuscript was then looked over, and the grammatical blunders, -for Bell was an uneducated man, corrected by Hunter. At twelve the -family went to bed, and the butler, before retiring to rest, used to -bring in a fresh Argand lamp, by the light of which Hunter continued -his labours until one or two in the morning, or even later in winter. -Thus he left only about four hours for sleep, which, with the hour -after dinner, was all the time that he devoted to the refreshment of -his body. He had no home amusements for the relaxation of his mind, -and the only indulgence of this kind he enjoyed consisted in an -evening’s ramble amongst the various denizens of earth and air which -he had congregated at Earl’s Court.” - -In January 1776 Mr. Hunter attained a court position, being -appointed surgeon-extraordinary to the king. In the same year he -became interested in the efforts of the Humane Society, and at its -request drew up a paper for the Royal Society on the recovery of -the apparently-drowned. Herein he makes a just distinction between -absolute death and suspended animation, illustrates different modes -of dying, and describes many signs of life and death. This year was -also the first in which he delivered the Croonian lecture to the -Royal Society, on muscular motion, a subject which he continued in -successive years till 1782 (omitting 1777); but the lectures were -never published, being, he said, too incomplete. - -In the year 1773 Mr. Hunter suffered the first open onset of the -disease which occasioned him such acute pain and distress for many -years, in an attack of spasm accompanied by cessation of the heart’s -action apparently for three quarters of an hour. During the attack, -however, sensation and voluntary actions were kept up, and he was -able to continue respiring by voluntary effort. In the next few -years the attacks were somewhat rare; but from 1783 onwards he was -subject to severe angina pectoris whenever mentally agitated. In 1777 -a constant giddiness or vertigo seized him on account of his being -called upon to pay a large sum of money for a friend for whom he -had become security, at a time when it was exceedingly inconvenient -to do so. This illness led him to visit Bath in the autumn, leaving -Mr. Bell and Mr. Home to catalogue his museum. At Bath Dr. Jenner -visited him and was surprised at his altered appearance, and here -first diagnosed his case as dependent upon an organic affection of -the heart: but he did not tell Hunter his diagnosis, fearing an -injurious effect. Returning to town, and soon recovering his usual -health and vigour, Mr. Hunter published in 1778 the second part of -his Treatise on the Teeth, dealing with their diseases. In 1779 a -paper contributed to the Royal Society on the hermaphrodite black -cattle or free martin gave him occasion to describe hermaphroditism -in general. In 1780 occurred the unfortunate controversy with -his brother, in regard to the discovery of the utero-placental -circulation, to which we have already referred. The estrangement -which followed was extreme, and protracted till the elder brother lay -on his deathbed. After his brother’s death, however, which occurred -just at the conclusion of John Hunter’s course of lectures, when he -had finished his lecture, he still seemed to have more to say; and at -length, appearing as if he had just recollected something, he began, -“Ho! gentlemen, one thing more: I need not remind you of ——: you all -know the loss anatomy has lately sustained.” He was obliged to pause -and turn his face from his hearers. At length recovering himself, he -stated that Mr. Cruickshank would occupy the place of Dr. Hunter. -This, and a few words more, were not spoken without great emotion, -nor with dry eyes. The scene was so pathetic, that a general sympathy -pervaded the class; and though all had been preparing to leave, they -stood or sat motionless for several minutes. - -The eagerness with which Mr. Hunter sought and appropriated all -rarities is amusingly illustrated by his own remarks to Dr. Clarke, -who had a preparation illustrating extra-uterine pregnancy, which Mr. -Hunter often viewed with longing eyes. “Come, Doctor,” said he, “I -positively must have that preparation.” “No, John Hunter,” was the -reply, “you positively shall not.” “You will not give it me, then?” -“No.” “Will you sell it?” “No.” “Well, then, take care I don’t meet -you with it in some dark lane at night, for if I do, I’ll murder you -to get it.” It is reported that a specimen which remains one of the -most valued in the Hunterian Museum cost Mr. Hunter no less than £500 -in 1783, namely, the skeleton of O’Brien, the Irish giant, seven feet -seven inches high. It appears that O’Brien had heard of and dreaded -the scalpel of the famous dissector, and took special precautions to -frustrate his ends. He made an Irish league with several compatriots -that his body should be taken to sea, and securely sunk in deep -water; but Mr. Hunter, more subtle than the giant, had made a big -bargain with the undertaker, who arranged that during the funeral -progress towards the sea the coffin should be locked up in a barn -while its guardians were drinking at a tavern. The corpse was -speedily extracted, and a sufficient weight of stones substituted; -and Hunter soon rejoiced in the possession of his prize, which he -drove to Earl’s Court in his own carriage, and quickly converted into -a skeleton. - -In 1781 Mr. Hunter was called by the defence as a witness in the -trial of Captain Donellan at Warwick Assizes for the murder of his -brother-in-law, Sir Theodosius Boughton. In his evidence Mr. Hunter -gave all that could justly be deduced from the facts known to him, -but refused to speak positively as to the cause of death. Under -cross-examination he became confused and hesitating, as was certain -to be the case. This rather aroused the wrath of Mr. Justice Buller, -who in his charge said, “I can hardly say what his opinion is, for he -does not seem to have formed any opinion at all of the matter.” But -Hunter’s caution was undoubtedly justifiable. - -In 1783 the lease of the Jermyn Street house expired, and finding -it difficult to accommodate his museum in any premises he could -obtain, Mr. Hunter purchased the remainder of the lease, extending -to twenty-four years only, of a house on the east side of Leicester -Square, with ground extending on the rear to Castle Street, where -there was a second smaller house. On the vacant ground Mr. Hunter -determined to build a museum for his collection, including a large -upper room fifty-two feet by twenty-eight, lighted from above, and -having a gallery running round it. A lecture-room and other rooms -were beneath. By the spring of 1785 this considerable undertaking -was complete, absorbing all Hunter’s spare cash and costing him more -than £3,000. But the museum, which was removed to it in April 1785, -had by 1782 cost him £10,000 in addition to valuable presents, so -that it cannot be said that the casket cost more than the jewels -although being on so short a lease it was doubtless expensive. The -museum in its new home became continually more celebrated, and -was visited by many foreign anatomists of distinction, including -Blumenbach, Camper, Scarpa, and Poli. At this period Hunter was at -the height of his career; his mind and body were in full vigour; “his -hands,” says Home, “were capable of performing whatever was suggested -by his mind; and his judgment was matured by former experience.” -There were diverse opinions about his skill as an operator, however; -Astley Cooper did not consider him especially dexterous or elegant. -Nevertheless his anatomical knowledge and great experience stood him -in good stead, and he was almost always successful in completing his -operations. It must be recollected, however, that special importance -was, in pre-chloroform days, attached to speed, and in this Hunter -did not excel. Indeed, to him, operating was a distasteful element -in a surgeon’s curative efforts. “To perform an operation,” he would -say, “is to mutilate a patient we cannot cure; it should therefore be -considered as an acknowledgment of the imperfection of our art.” - -The year of greatest success, however, was marked by a period of -grave illness, with attacks of violent spasms of the heart, followed -by syncope. These recurred on occasions of extra exertion, anxiety -of mind, fits of temper, or even the fear lest an animal which he -wished to secure might escape before a gun could be brought to shoot -it. To this year (1785) we are indebted for the celebrated portrait -of Hunter by Sir Joshua Reynolds, in the possession of the Royal -College of Surgeons. He was a bad sitter, but Reynolds, dissatisfied -with his progress, one day was gratified by seeing Hunter in deep -reverie, with his head supported by his left hand. He at once turned -his canvas upside down, and began to record that life-like face, -which shows Hunter the philosopher in the true profundity of his -nature. Sharp engraved this portrait, and it was one of his greatest -successes. - -The year 1785 was that in which Hunter first tied the femoral artery -in a case of popliteal aneurism, and thus initiated one of the -greatest modern improvements in surgery, relying upon the enlargement -of the smaller communicating or collateral vessels to make up for the -cessation of circulation through the principal vessel. This appears -to have been suggested to him by an experiment on the mode of growth -of deer’s antlers. Having been granted by the king the privilege -of experimenting with the deer in Richmond Park, he tied one of -the external carotid arteries supplying (_inter alia_) one of the -half-grown antlers. The antler became cold, but after a week or two -Hunter, to his astonishment, found that it had again become warm and -was growing again. On a _post mortem_ examination he discovered that -this continued growth was due to the enlargement of small branches -of the carotid above and below the wound, to an extent sufficient to -restore the blood-supply in the antler. And by a stroke of genius -Hunter saw that a similar process might be expected to occur in -cases of aneurism, and supersede the then generally fatal methods -of operating by means of amputation, or by directly evacuating the -sac of the aneurism. The fourth patient Hunter performed the new -operation upon lived for fifty years; a specimen illustrating the -case is preserved in the Hunterian Museum. - -In 1786, on the death of Middleton, Hunter received the appointment -of deputy surgeon-general to the army; becoming in 1790, on the death -of Mr. Adair, surgeon-general and inspector of hospitals. In 1786 -he published his long-deferred work on the Venereal Disease, which, -though printed and sold in his own house, met with a rapid sale, and -proved a very valuable work. In the same year he collected a large -number of his papers contributed to the Royal Society, together with -others not previously published, into a quarto volume entitled, -“Observations on certain Parts of the Animal Œconomy,” and thus -placed his researches in imposing bulk before the general public. The -Copley Medal of the Royal Society was awarded to Hunter in 1787 for -his discoveries in natural history. - -About this time Mr. Hunter was allowed to nominate Home as his -assistant at St. George’s, and in 1792 Home undertook a further -portion of his work, by delivering the surgical lectures, for which -purpose he was intrusted with Mr. Hunter’s manuscripts. This enabled -Mr. Hunter to give more time to the preparation of his great -treatise on the Blood, Inflammation, and Gunshot Wounds, which, -however, remained to be published by his executors in 1794. Death -was about to claim him, and the immediate cause which led to his end -was a dispute with his colleagues and the governors of St. George’s -Hospital about pupils’ fees. In his treatment of pupils personally -Hunter was always generous, especially when they showed ability and -zeal. Thus he gave Carlisle a perpetual ticket to his lectures, -having been much pleased with a preparation he brought for his -acceptance, showing the internal ear very excellently. He would often -also send valuable patients to young men starting in practice, and -struggling with pecuniary difficulties. He never concealed from his -pupils the hard work he had done to attain his position: “I’ve been -here a great many years, and have worked hard too, and yet I don’t -know the principles of the art,” he remarked to one. He did not, -however, get on so well with his fellow-surgeons at the hospital. He -so constantly insisted on the importance of studying physiology for -the benefit of surgical practice, while they had been educated with -little or no physiology, that his manner, as well as his pursuits, -procured him the stigma of being an innovator and enthusiast. -Early in 1792 one of his colleagues, Charles Hawkins, resigned the -surgeoncy, and Keate, then assistant to Gunning, the senior surgeon, -was elected his successor by a considerable majority, in opposition -to Home, who was, of course, Hunter’s candidate. The acrimony of the -contest appears to have led Hunter to announce his intention of no -longer dividing with them the fees received for the surgeons’ pupils, -owing, as he alleged, to his desire that the other surgeons should -pay more attention to their pupils, instead of neglecting them, as -he asserted they did. His right to do this was warmly contested, -and the question was referred to the subscribers to the hospital. -Hunter addressed them a long letter before the day of meeting, in -March 1793, detailing the efforts he had made since his connection -with the hospital to induce his colleagues to improve the system of -instruction, which efforts had proved ineffectual: one man “did not -choose to hazard his reputation by giving lectures;” another “did -not see where the art could be improved.” Consequently Hunter had -slackened his own efforts, causing a great falling off in the numbers -of students. The other surgeons replied that they had continued the -usual plan, and that if students had neglected their hospital duties -to pursue physiological studies, it was not their fault. If they had -given lectures, copies of them might have been taken by the pupils -and might get abroad. Mr. Hunter’s connection with the Windmill -Street Anatomical School, and his power of conferring posts in the -army, not his superior attention to his pupils, were the cause of a -larger number of pupils entering under him. They were able to show -that it would be a manifest disadvantage that only one surgeon should -instruct a pupil and not all four. The governors decided against -Hunter, for his plan must have produced confusion and discord. A -committee drew up rules for the admission and regulation of pupils, -and these were adopted without any consultation with Mr. Hunter. One -of them, which seemed specially directed against him, forbade the -entry of any pupil who had not had previous medical instruction. -Young men frequently came up to London from Scotland, recommended -to Mr. Hunter, and were entered by him at the hospital without -having had any previous medical instruction. A case in point arose -in the succeeding autumn. Two young men came up in the usual way, -and ignorant of the new rule, Hunter undertook to press for their -admission at the next Board meeting, on the 16th October 1793. On the -morning of the day he expressed his anxiety to a friend lest some -dispute might occur, as he was convinced such an occurrence would -be fatal to him. His life, he used to say, “was in the hands of any -rascal who chose to annoy and tease him.” Leaving home at the usual -hour, he forgot, strange to say, to take his list of appointments -with him, and Mr. Clift hastened after him with it. Later, arriving -at the hospital, he found the Board already assembled, and presented -and supported his memorial. During his speech one of his colleagues -flatly contradicted him, and Hunter immediately ceased speaking, -retired from the table, and, struggling to suppress his passion, -hurried into an adjoining room, which he had scarcely reached when, -with a deep groan, he fell lifeless into the arms of Dr. Robertson, -one of the hospital physicians. Dr. Baillie his nephew, and Home, -who was present, made every effort to restore him, but in vain. Thus -were cut short at once the meeting of the St. George’s Board, and the -life of the greatest surgeon they had had. He was buried in a simple -manner on October 22d, at St Martin’s in the Fields. A _post mortem_ -examination had shown that his heart was wasted and diseased, and -his coronary arteries, mitral valves, and aorta much ossified and -diseased, thus justifying Dr. Jenner’s diagnosis. - -In person Hunter was of about middle height, vigorous and robust, -with high shoulders and short neck, strongly marked features, -projecting eyebrows, light-coloured eyes, and high cheeks. He -always dressed plainly, with his hair curled behind; this had been -reddish-yellow in early life, but white latterly. - -Mr. Hunter left little but his museum, which he wished the nation -to purchase and provide for. After years of effort, in the course -of which Mr. Pitt, on being appealed to, replied: “What! buy -preparations! why, I have not money enough to purchase gunpowder,” -Parliament in 1799 voted £15,000 for his museum (it had cost Hunter -over £70,000), and its guardianship was offered to the College of -Physicians, which declined it, and then to the College of Surgeons, -which accepted it, gaining at the same time a new charter and the -title of Royal. Hours during which the collection might be open for -professional men and others to study, and a keeper to explain the -collection, were stipulated for, and at least twenty-four lectures -were to be given annually on comparative anatomy and other subjects -by members of the college. These are the well-known Hunterian -lectures made illustrious by Owen, Huxley, Parker, and Flower. The -collection was placed in a temporary habitation in Lincoln’s Inn -Fields in 1806, and Parliament has granted in all £42,500 at various -dates for the building of a suitable museum. The present building, -however, has cost very much more than the sum mentioned, the expense -being defrayed out of the college revenues for diplomas. - -During the weary years of waiting for the government consent to -purchase the museum, Hunter’s family had to be maintained by the -sale of his furniture and library, and his miscellaneous collection -of objects of _virtu_, coats of mail, weapons, &c.; and the mere -conservation of the museum was a matter of considerable expense. -His papers fell into the hands of Mr., afterwards Sir Everard Home, -who detained them without publishing them for many years, during -which time he himself published a vast variety of papers under -his own name in the Philosophical Transactions. It is generally -believed that many of these were largely derived from Mr. Hunter’s -manuscripts; and this the more, that, when at last, after many years -of evasion, his co-trustees of the museum pressed him to deliver up -the manuscripts as they were, he secretly burnt almost the whole of -them. In fact, Mr. Clift, who became keeper of the museum, and had -been long the assistant and friend of Sir Everard, when questioned by -the Commission on Medical Education, replied that all his life he had -been employed by Sir Everard in transcribing portions of Mr. Hunter’s -manuscripts, and in copying drawings from his portfolios, which Sir -Everard issued to the public as his own. It was in 1823, when Sir -Everard had received from the printer the final proof of his last -volume on Comparative Anatomy, that he disgraced his name for ever by -this great and irreparable destruction. Mr. Clift’s list of what he -remembers of the burnt papers fills more than a page of the memoir of -John Hunter prefixed to vol. x. of Jardine’s Naturalists’ Library. -And the bare enumeration and contents would give but little idea of -the labour expended in its production. “I have many times,” says Mr. -Clift, his assistant and amanuensis during the last twenty months of -his life, “written the same page at least half a dozen times over, -with corrections and transpositions almost without end,” so great was -the difficulty Hunter felt in adequately expressing his ideas. But -this only serves to increase our regret that these valuable originals -should have been destroyed. He generally wrote his first thoughts -or memoranda on all subjects on the slips torn off from the ends, -and the blank pages and envelopes of letters. He appeared to have no -desire of preserving his own hand-writing, but when they had been -copied, usually folded them up, and put them on the chimney-piece to -light the candle with; and the rough or waste copies on all subjects, -when copied out fair, were taken into his private dissecting-room, as -waste paper to dissect upon. - -Sir Everard Home[14] describes his brother-in-law as “very warm and -impatient, readily provoked, and when irritated, not easily soothed. -His disposition was candid and free from reserve, even to a fault. -He hated deceit, and was above every kind of artifice; he detested -it in others, and too openly avowed his sentiments. In conversation -he spoke too freely, and sometimes harshly of his contemporaries; -but if he did not do justice to their undoubted merit, it arose not -from envy, but from a thorough conviction that surgery was yet in its -infancy, and he himself a novice in his own art; and his anxiety to -have it carried to perfection made him think meanly and ill of every -one whose exertions in this respect did not equal his own.” He was -called the Cerberus of the Royal Society, and certainly it appears -easier to admire and estimate him correctly now than it would have -been to live in comfort with him. Yet, when advanced in practice -and honours, he paid more instead of less attention to those whom -he had known earlier. Mr. Gough, who had charge of a menagerie in -Piccadilly, related that when he called on Mr. Hunter, if the house -was full of patients, and carriages waiting at the door, he was -always admitted. “You have no time to spare,” said he, “as you live -by it. Most of these can wait, as they have little to do when they go -home.” It is certain that Hunter only valued money as it enabled him -to carry on his researches. He introduces a patient to his brother -thus: “He has no money, and you have plenty, so you are well met;” -and he would never take fees from curates, authors, and artists. -With his lack of courtliness and evident zeal for dissection, it can -be no wonder that his income never reached £1000 before 1774. Yet -afterwards it increased to £5000 for some years, and had reached to -£6000 when he died. But all he could spare, throughout, went to his -museum. - -Hunter’s sense of his own importance was evident, and often very -ingenuously expressed. “Ah, John Hunter, what! still hard at work!” -said Dr. Garthshore to him, finding him in the dissecting-room late -in life. “Yes, doctor,” replied Hunter, “still hard at work; and -you’ll find it difficult to meet with another John Hunter when I am -gone.” To Abernethy he said, “I know I am but a pigmy in knowledge, -yet I feel as a giant when compared with these men.” He could not -be described as a good conversationalist, yet his remarks, slowly -brought out, were often wonderfully pointed and forcible. In politics -he was a strenuous Tory, and “wished all the rascals who were -dissatisfied with their country would be good enough to leave it.” He -hated all public ceremony or display, and when begged to go to Sir -Joshua Reynolds’s funeral, fairly wished Sir Joshua and his friends -at the d——l. - -He was undeviatingly honest, eminently a lover of truth, humane -and generous in disposition, warm and disinterested as a friend, -a kind affectionate husband and father. Some have called him a -materialist or even an atheist, but he appears to have had no doubt -of the existence of a First Cause. His study of religion was no -doubt limited by natural tendencies in his mind, and by his habitual -concentration on his work, and the evidence of revelation did not -make, so far as can be ascertained, a deep impression on his mind. As -to death, his view was, “’tis poor work when it comes to that.” - -Hunter’s remains lay undisturbed in St. Martin’s Church, till -on March 28, 1859, they were removed, mainly through Mr. Frank -Buckland’s intervention, to Abbot Islip’s Chapel in Westminster -Abbey and deposited in the north aisle of the nave, close to Ben -Jonson’s tomb. His name and achievements are annually commemorated by -orations such as those from which the subsequent extracts are made, -but most of all by the Hunterian Museum and the lectures delivered in -connection therewith. - -To expound Hunter’s views of life, and the results of his other -philosophical and practical studies, would lead us far beyond our -limits. Life he regarded as a principle independent of structure; -as a great chemist; as a sort of animal fire. “Mere composition of -matter,” he said, “does not give life; for the dead body has all the -composition it ever had. Life is a property we do not understand; we -can only see the necessary steps leading towards it.” He imagined -that life might either be something superadded to matter, or consist -in a peculiar arrangement of particles of matter, which being thus -disposed acquired the properties of life. As to equivocal generation, -he believed—and here he coincides with the best results of modern -sciences—that all we could have was negative proofs of its not taking -place. As to geological changes, he had strikingly original views, -regarding water as the chief agent, and pointing out that the popular -view by which the Deluge was supposed to account for finding marine -organisms in rocks was untenable. He could discern that in the long -past great oscillations of level and climatic variations had taken -place. In regard to development and evolution, he had very luminous -ideas pointing to modern discoveries. Thus he remarks “if we were -to take a series of animals from the more imperfect to the perfect, -we should probably find an imperfect animal corresponding with some -stage of the most perfect.” - -We cannot more clearly emphasise the character of Hunter’s intellect -and work than in the words of two distinguished men of our own time, -both eminent pathologists, and qualified as few can be for estimating -such a man. - -Dr. Moxon[15] says:— - -“If we ask what gave him that most valuable power of estimating what -was worth doing, and what could be done—the power which Bacon calls -the ‘mathematics of the mind’—we find the reply, I believe, in these -great facts of his history. Firstly, that he was a man who had a -free youth, not over-taught, nor over-strained; and, secondly, that -in his manhood he worked with an eye to usefulness and duty, and not -only to notoriety, nor to the mere cry of ‘who will show us something -new?’ Indeed, the main and distinctive feature of his noble life -was his resolute pursuit of the practical aim of his profession, to -establish sound laws for scientific surgery and medicine. I have said -that the wonderful store of facts he collected constituted answers -to questions: Hunter the physiologist answering the questions of -Hunter the surgeon. He did not so follow physiology as to turn it -away from usefulness. And the results of his work he puts up in -his museum. And he will gladly have anything for his collection. -But always putting things by in their physiological order, mark, -so that in due time they shall answer to his further questions. He -will lecture on surgical principles,—true ones they must be,—if he -changes them yearly in accordance with his observations. But he -will not, he cannot, lecture on comparative anatomy or zoology. Why -not? It does not conform enough with his main bent to surgery, to -practical aim, to a duty. He believes in a vital principle, therefore -he must have an aim before him. He succeeds in his aim; and by the -masterly introduction of the operation on aneurism which bears his -name he saves thousands from a painful death. Led further by the -same enthusiasm for the true purpose of his life as a surgeon, he -inoculates his frame with a loathsome disease that he may have it -always by him to study it, regardless of danger and of pain.” - -Sir James Paget’s views[16] are thus expressed:— - -“The range of Hunter’s work matched with the time devoted to it. -Never before or since—I think I am safe in saying this—was any one -a thorough investigator and student in so wide a range of science. -He was an enthusiastic naturalist; as a comparative anatomist -and physiologist he was unequalled in his time; among the few -pathologists he was the best; among the still fewer geologists and -students of vegetable physiology, he was one, if not the chief; and -he was a great practical surgeon. He was surgeon to a large hospital -in London, and for many years held the largest practice in the -metropolis. In all these things at one time no one but Hunter ever -was eminent and successful.... There is not one of them in which he -did not make investigations wholly original—not one of them of which -he did not enlarge the area very far beyond that which had been -covered by his predecessors—not one of them in which he did not leave -facts and principles on record which it is impossible to count and -very hard to estimate. - -“In all these characters of Hunter’s works we see that which was the -dominant character of his mind—massiveness and grandeur of design -were indicated in all to which he applied himself. And in perfect -harmony with this was the simplicity of his ordinary method of -work. It consisted mainly in the orderly accumulation of facts from -every source, of every kind, and building them up in the simplest -inductions. If he had been an architect, he would have built huge -pyramids, and every stone would have borne its own inscription. He -knew nothing of logic or the science of thought. He used his mental -power as with a natural instinct. He worked with all his might, but -without art. I know no instance so striking as in him of the living -force which there is in facts when they are stored in a thoughtful -mind. - -“But Hunter was not only a great observer, he was a very acute one. -I think it would be difficult to find in all the masses of facts -which he has recorded any one which was either observed or recorded -erroneously. If there are errors in his works, they are the errors -of reasoning, not of observation. And it may be noted, as a singular -example of his accuracy, that when he tells his inferences it is -generally with expressions implying that he regarded them as only -probable: a fact he tells without conditions; when he generalises, it -is with ‘I suspect,’ ‘I believe,’ ‘I am disposed to think,’ or the -like.... He seems to have thought he had never reached farther than -the nearest approach to truth, which was at that time attainable, -and that a year or more of investigation would bring him nearer to -the truth, and then that which now seemed right would be surpassed or -set aside. He used to say to his pupils in his lectures, ‘Do not take -notes of this; I daresay I shall change it all next year.’” - -Abernethy, who knew him well, says: “It is scarcely credible with -what pains Mr. Hunter examined the lower kinds of animals,” and he -quotes Mr. Clift as saying that “he would stand for hours motionless -as a statue, except that with a pair of forceps in either hand he -was picking asunder the connecting fibres of some structure” that he -was examining: ... “patient and watchful as a prophet, sure that the -truth would come: it might be in the unveiling of some new structure, -or in the clearing up of some mental cloud; or it might be as in a -flash, in which, as with inspiration, intellectual darkness becomes -light.” - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[12] Author of the defamatory so-called Life of John Hunter, 1794. - -[13] “Life of John Hunter,” by Drewry Ottley, 1835. - -[14] Life of John Hunter, prefixed to the treatise on the Blood, -Inflammation, &c. - -[15] _Medical Times and Gazette_, March 3, 1877. - -[16] _Medical Times and Gazette_, Feb. 17, 1877. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -_EDWARD JENNER AND VACCINATION._ - - -Modern preventive medicine may be said to date from the introduction -of inoculation for smallpox in the early part of the eighteenth -century. It is much more profitable to dwell on the history of the -second step in this direction, a far greater one, due to the genius -of one man, Edward Jenner, whose Life by Dr. Baron, though not a -biographical masterpiece, is the source of much valuable information. - -The name of Stephen Jenner had been handed down from generation to -generation in Gloucestershire, and the Rev. Stephen Jenner, father -of Edward, was vicar of Berkeley when his famous son was born, -on May 17, 1749. The father, however, died in 1754, and an elder -son, another Stephen Jenner, Fellow of Magdalen College, Oxford, -is credited with some attention to his education. But his school -life was not prolonged, for about the thirteenth year of his age -he commenced preparation for a medical career by entering upon -apprenticeship to Mr. Daniel Ludlow, a medical practitioner at -Sodbury near Bristol, with whom he remained six years. - -Young Edward, when a fine ruddy boy of eight, was, with many others, -put under a preparatory process for inoculation for smallpox. This -was indeed a formidable proceeding, lasting six weeks. He was first -bled, to ascertain whether his blood was “fine;” was then purged -repeatedly till the ruddy youth became emaciated and feeble; and all -the while was kept on a low diet, and dosed with some drink which -was supposed to sweeten the blood. This is appropriately termed a -“barbarism of human veterinary practice,” but it was followed by -exposure to contagion from others in a state of severe disease. By -good luck the boy got off with a mild attack; but we may well ascribe -to the lowering preparatory treatment he had undergone, that he -never could as a child enjoy sleep, and was constantly haunted by -imaginary noises. All his life long he was too acutely alive to these -impressions and to any sudden jar. - -It is perhaps more interesting, it is certainly more important, -to notice the influence exerted upon one mind by another, than to -examine the influences of any material objects upon human nature. -In this light we may view with pleasure the relations which existed -between Jenner, his elder brother already mentioned, and the great -anatomist, John Hunter. The ties of affection and esteem must have -been strong which drew the young doctor from the attractions of -London, from constant association with his admired friend in his -studies, from opportunities to inquire such as those afforded -by the arrangement of Sir Joseph Banks’s collection made during -Captain Cook’s celebrated voyage, from prospects of gain and worldly -advancement, to the retirement of a country village, the isolation -and the simplicity of rural existence. We can hardly overestimate -the benefits derived by the developing mind of the young doctor -from his daily intercourse for two years with such a preceptor as -John Hunter. The impression was mutual, for we find Hunter years -afterwards writing to Jenner, “I do not know any one I would sooner -write to than you: I do not know anybody I am so much obliged to.” -A correspondence full of interest on subjects of natural history -was kept up between them. Hunter’s appreciation of his friend’s -attainments was shown markedly when he formed the plan of a school of -natural history and human and comparative anatomy, and asked Jenner -to come and be his partner in the undertaking. Very many particulars -of experiments and inquiries in natural history by Jenner were -communicated to Hunter, and were of essential service to him. His -most important published paper in natural history was that on the -Cuckoo, published in the “Philosophical Transactions” for 1788. - -Jenner’s name has been so exclusively connected in the popular mind -with the subject of vaccination, that his ability as a practitioner -and his originality in many departments of medicine and surgery have -been somewhat lost sight of. No doubt this was much aided by his own -modesty; but in the treatment of many diseases his views, founded on -the improved anatomy and physiology he had learned from Hunter and -his own acute observation, were far in advance of his time. - -It was perhaps, however, by his sympathetic qualities of heart that -Jenner most of all obtained and maintained the influence which he -possessed. He could truly rejoice with those that rejoiced, and weep -with those that wept. In him uncommon delicacy of feeling co-existed -with a joyous and lively disposition; and his gentlemanly manners -made him welcome everywhere. He was ever observant of natural -phenomena, and loved nothing better than to persuade some friend to -ride with him during his long journeys through the countryside. Those -who enjoyed the pleasure have described the vivid and imaginative -fervour which characterised his conversation, whether in reference -to his own feelings or the beauties of the scenery around, and -the captivating simplicity and ingenuity with which he explained -phenomena of animal and vegetable life which came under notice. In -fact he never met any one without endeavouring to gain or to impart -instruction. - -Among the many proofs of Jenner’s sagacity and acuteness in matters -outside medicine should be mentioned the following, recorded by Sir -Humphry Davy, showing that Jenner anticipated the late Charles Darwin -in his views of the important effects produced by earthworms upon -the soil. “He said the earthworms, particularly about the time of -the vernal equinox, were much under and along the surface of our -moist meadow-lands; and wherever they move, they leave a train of -mucus behind them, which becomes manure to the plant. In this respect -they act, as the slug does, in furnishing materials for food to the -vegetable kingdom; and under the surface, they break the stiff clods -in pieces and finally divide the soil.” - -His appearance and manner in this early portion of his life are thus -described by his intimate friend, Edward Gardner: “His height was -rather under the middle size, his person was robust, but active and -well formed. In his dress he was peculiarly neat, and everything -about him showed the man intent and serious, and well prepared to -meet the duties of his calling. When I first saw him it was on -Frampton Green. I was somewhat his junior in years, and had heard -so much of Mr. Jenner of Berkeley 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 of the times, was done up in a club, and he wore a -broad-brimmed hat. We were introduced on that occasion, and I was -delighted and astonished. I was prepared to find an accomplished -man, and all the country spoke of him as a skilful surgeon and a -great naturalist; but I did not expect to find him so much at home -on other matters. I who had been spending my time in cultivating my -judgment by abstract study, and smit from my boyhood with the love of -song, had sought my amusement in the rosy fields of imagination, was -not less surprised than gratified to find that the ancient affinity -between Apollo and Esculapius was so well maintained in his person.” - -So informing and yet witty, so full of life, so true to life was his -conversation that the chance of sharing it was eagerly embraced, -and his friends rode many miles to accompany him on his way home -from their houses, even at midnight. His poetical fancy occasionally -vented itself in little pieces of verse, one of which, entitled -“Signs of Rain,” beginning— - - - “The hollow winds begin to blow,” - - -will probably long prove of interest in children’s collections of -verse. - -Some of his epigrams are very apt, as this on the death of a miser— - - - “Tom at last has laid by his old niggardly forms, - And now gives good dinners; to whom, pray? the worms.” - - -Singing and violin and flute playing were favourite amusements of -his; and in his later years he would lay aside all cares for a time -and sing one of his own ballads with all the mirth and gaiety of his -youthful days. - -Science and social intercourse were combined in two societies of -which Jenner was the soul—one he called the Medico-convivial, -which met usually at Radborough, the other the Convivio-medical, -assembling at Alveston. - -At the meetings of these societies Jenner would often bring forward -the reported prophylactic virtues of cowpox, and earnestly recommend -his medical friends to inquire into the matter. All his efforts, -however, failed to induce them to take it up; and the subject became -so distasteful to them that they at one time threatened to expel him -if he continued to harass them with so unprofitable a subject. - -Dr. Jenner did not marry till March 6, 1788, when Miss Catherine -Kingscote, a lady belonging to a well-known Gloucestershire family -frequently furnishing representatives to Parliament, became his wife. -The union was very happy, but Mrs. Jenner’s delicate health for many -years caused great anxiety and needed constant attention. - -In 1792 Jenner became M.D. of St. Andrews, with the view of giving -up much of his fatiguing general practice. In 1794, at the age of -forty-five, he suffered from a severe attack of typhus fever, which -threatened to prove fatal. At this time the experiments in proof of -vaccination had not been made, and if he had died, the world in all -probability might have waited long for the introduction of this great -novelty. - -Many who learn that vaccination was made known to the world in 1798, -when Jenner was forty-nine years old, do not know that the subject -attracted his attention in his youthful days as a country surgeon’s -apprentice, and that his faculties were ever after engaged upon the -matter at every convenient opportunity. He repeatedly mentioned the -subject of cowpox to his great teacher, John Hunter, when studying -with him in London. Hunter never damped the ardour of a pupil by -suggesting doubts or difficulties; but it does not appear that he -was specially impressed by what he heard. Yet he made known Jenner’s -information and opinions both in his lectures and to his friends. -But for many years Jenner’s ideas were poohpoohed by medical and -other authorities whom he met in his country practice. They believed -many had had smallpox after cowpox, and that the supposed protective -influence of the latter was due to something in the constitution of -the individual. - -Not till 1780 did Jenner fully disclose to his devoted friend Edward -Gardner his hopes and fears about what he felt to be his great -life-work. He then described to him the various diseases which -attacked milkers when they handled diseased cows, and especially that -form which afforded protection against smallpox; and with deep and -anxious emotion expressed his hopes of being able to propagate this -latter form from one human being to another, so as to bring about the -total extinction of smallpox. - -The exceeding simplicity of the ultimate discovery makes it difficult -for us nowadays to imagine the circumstances under which Jenner had -to grope his way in the imperfect twilight, and the perplexities -by which he was beset in arriving at true conclusions. Both his -own observation and that of other medical men of his acquaintance -proved to him that what was commonly called cowpox was not a certain -preventive of smallpox. But he ascertained by assiduous inquiry -and personal investigation that cows were liable to various kinds -of eruptions on their teats, all capable of being communicated to -the hands of the milkers; and that such sores when so communicated -were all called cowpox. But when he had traced out the nature of -these various diseases, and ascertained which of them possessed the -protective virtue against smallpox, he was again foiled by learning -that in some cases when what he now called the true cowpox broke out -among the cattle on a dairy farm, and had been communicated to the -milkers, they subsequently had smallpox. - -It was this repeated failure to arrive at a perfect result which -perhaps gave the stimulus that led Jenner to ultimate triumph. The -fact that he was on the scent of a discovery which in some form had -a promise of indefinite blessing, made him redouble his efforts -when most perplexed. He conceived the idea that the virus of the -cowpox itself might undergo changes sufficient to deprive it of its -protective power, and yet enable it to communicate a disease to the -milker. Thus he at last came on the track of the discovery that it -was only in a certain condition of the pustule that the virus was -capable of imparting its protective power to the human constitution. - -Having thus steered his way safely through all the pitfalls which -might have destroyed the accuracy of his results, Jenner was able to -go on to the next stage, that of putting his theory to the test. It -is singular how long he was before he had an opportunity of further -experiment. In 1788 he showed a drawing of the cowpox as it occurred -in milkers to Sir Everard Home and others in London. Various eminent -medical men, Cline, Adams, Haygarth, heard of and discussed the -matter, and encouraged Jenner’s inquiries. But it was not till May -14, 1796, that he had an opportunity of transferring cowpox from -one human being to another. Sarah Nelmes, a dairymaid who had been -infected from her master’s cows, afforded the matter, and it was -inserted by two surperficial incisions into the arms of James Phipps, -a healthy boy about eight years old. The cowpox ran an ordinary -course with no ill effect, and in July Jenner writes to Gardner: “The -boy has since been inoculated for the smallpox, which, as I ventured -to predict, produced no effect. I shall now pursue my experiments -with redoubled ardour.” - -Jenner did not, even now that he had attained to certainty in his -own mind, rush precipitately into publicity, although his benevolent -desires to avert the scourge of smallpox from humanity strongly urged -him to do so. Still less did he yield to the temptation to establish -himself as a practitioner with a specialty for warding off smallpox, -which might have led him speedily to fortune. He was as if forearmed -against the stringent requirements which would be made as to the -proofs of such a discovery if made gratuitously public. At this time -he says: “While the vaccine discovery was progressive, the joy I felt -at the prospect before me of being the instrument destined to take -away from the world one of its greatest calamities, blended with the -fond hope of enjoying independence and domestic peace and happiness, -was often so excessive that, in pursuing my favourite subject among -the meadows, I have sometimes found myself in a kind of reverie. It -is pleasant to me to recollect that these reflections always ended -in devout acknowledgments to that Being from whom this and all other -mercies flow.” - -Until the spring of 1798 Jenner had no further opportunity of -pursuing his inquiries, for the cowpox disappeared from the -neighbouring dairies. At last he had matured his research, and it -was ready for publication. Before sending it to the printers it was -most carefully scrutinised by a number of friends at Rudhall, near -Ross, in Herefordshire, the seat of Mr. Thomas Westfaling. Their -sympathy encouraged him and their judgment approved of his work, -which none who read Jenner’s modest and now classic recital, “An -Inquiry into the Causes and Effects of the Variolæ Vaccinæ,” bearing -date June 21, 1798, can wonder at. Previous to this date, however, -Dr. and Mrs. Jenner had been two months in London, experiencing -much mortification from the fact that no one in London could be -obtained as a patient to be inoculated with cowpox. Dr. Jenner often -stated that his patience had been exhausted on that occasion: and it -remained for Henry Cline to perform the first successful vaccination -in London. Finding that subsequent inoculation with smallpox failed -to give his patient any disease, Cline expressed his opinion that -this promised to be one of the greatest improvements ever made in -medicine; and he begged Jenner to remove to London, promising him a -practice of ten thousand a year. Jenner’s sentiments on this matter -are characteristically expressed in the following extract: “Shall I, -who even in the morning of my days sought the lowly and sequestered -paths of life—the valley, and not the mountain; shall I, now my -evening is fast approaching, hold myself up as an object for fortune -and for fame? Admitting it as a certainty that I obtain both, what -stock should I add to my little fund of happiness? My fortune, with -what flows in from my profession, is sufficient to gratify my wishes; -indeed, so limited is my ambition and that of my nearest connexions, -that were I precluded from future practice I should be enabled to -obtain all I want. And as for fame, what is it? a gilded butt, for -ever pierced with the arrows of malignancy.” - -The first lady of rank who had her child vaccinated was Lady Frances -Morton (afterwards Lady Ducie). The Countess of Berkeley very early -promoted Jenner’s success and ardently advocated vaccination. - -A certain Dr. Woodville, eager to rank among the vaccinators, -discovered cowpox in a dairy in Gray’s Inn Lane, in January 1799, -found that the milkers became infected, and took from them matter -with which he vaccinated a number of persons; but contrary to -Jenner’s practice, he proceeded to insert smallpox matter in their -arms on the third and fifth days after vaccination, as if that could -afford a fair trial of the new method. No wonder that the patients -exhibited pustules like those of smallpox, and this was the first of -the many disasters that arose from the injudicious zeal of Jenner’s -first followers. This same Dr. Woodville, in an interview with Jenner -in March of the same year, showed himself so little acquainted -with the real character of cowpox, that he described it as having -been communicated by effluvia; and that the patient had it in the -confluent way. Jenner remarked on this: “Might not the disease have -been the confluent smallpox communicated by Dr. Woodville, as he is -always full of the infection?” - -Notwithstanding the mistakes of injudicious friends vaccination -began to spread in 1799, largely through the aid of those friends of -Jenner who themselves became inoculators—including many who were not -medical practitioners. In the same year it came into notice on the -continent, the “Inquiry” having become known in Vienna, Hanover, and -Geneva. In particular Dr. de Carro in Vienna became its most zealous -and judicious advocate, and greatly contributed to the striking -diminution in the ravages of smallpox which soon became evident in -that city through the introduction and wide spread of vaccination. A -little later, vaccine matter was first sent to Berlin. The same year -vaccination became known in the United States, Professor Waterhouse -of Cambridge, Mass., being the first to appreciate its importance. He -as soon as possible vaccinated his own children, and then had one of -them publicly inoculated with smallpox; and no infection following, -the practice became at once established in the United States. Some -contamination with smallpox having taken place by injudicious -action as in England, matter was obtained direct from Jenner, and -President Jefferson, with his sons-in-law, in 1801, set the example -of vaccinating in their own families and those of their neighbours, -nearly 200 persons. France and Spain had also followed in the wake, -and almost all Europe was now being vaccinated. - -We cannot follow the details of the successful introduction of -vaccination as by a triumphal progress all over the world, proving -its efficacy on men of all colour, of all civilisations, of all -climates. Sir Ralph Abercrombie’s expedition to Egypt was the first -armed force submitted to vaccination, and its good effects were -most evident. At Palermo it was not unusual to see on the mornings -of public inoculation at the hospital a procession of men, women, -and children, conducted through the streets by a priest carrying -a cross, on the way to be inoculated. The medical officers of the -British navy in 1801 presented Dr. Jenner with a gold medal in honour -of his discovery. - -Smallpox was still committing great ravages in India and Ceylon, and -Jenner exerted himself to the utmost to transmit vaccine matter to -the East. The early attempts all failed, some from accident, such -as the loss of an East Indiaman at sea, others from inexperience in -sending the virus so great a distance, exposed to such vicissitudes -of climate. Dr. Jenner proposed to the Secretary of State to send in -some ship to India a number of soldiers who had not had smallpox, and -to vaccinate them in succession by appointing a skilled surgeon to -accompany the vessel; but those in office could not see the wisdom of -this plan. Consequently the noble discoverer resolved himself to do -what was so needful, and while seeking to defray part of the cost by -a public subscription, he headed it with a subscription of a thousand -guineas. But before the project could be matured, news arrived of the -successful introduction of vaccine matter into Bombay, in consequence -of its successive transfer to Constantinople, to Bagdad, to Bussora, -and thence by sea to Bombay. The self-denying enthusiasm of Dr. -Jenner is, however, as conspicuous as if his expedition had been -fitted out as he intended. - -The simple narrative which the great man himself gave in 1801 in a -pamphlet only extending to eight pages, deserves reproducing in -every account of the discovery. Its simplicity is more forceful than -any decorative treatment could have rendered it. “My inquiry into the -nature of the cowpox commenced upwards of twenty-five years ago. My -attention to this singular disease was first excited by observing, -that among those whom in the country I was frequently called upon -to inoculate, many resisted every effort to give them the smallpox. -These patients I found had undergone a disease they called the -cowpox, contracted by milking cows affected with a peculiar eruption -on their teats. On inquiry, it appeared that it had been known among -the dairies time immemorial, and that a vague opinion prevailed -that it was a preventive of the smallpox. This opinion I found was -comparatively new among them, for all the older families declared -they had no such idea in their early days.” - - * * * * * - -“During the investigation of the casual cowpox, I was struck with -the idea that it might be practicable to propagate the disease by -inoculation, after the manner of the smallpox, first from the cow, -and finally from one human being to another. I anxiously waited -some time for an opportunity of putting this theory to the test. At -length the period arrived, and the first experiment was made upon -a lad of the name of Phipps, in whose arm a little vaccine virus -was inserted, taken from the hand of a young woman who had been -accidentally infected by a cow. Notwithstanding the resemblance -which the pustule, thus excited on the boy’s arm, bore to variolous -inoculation, yet as the indisposition attending it was barely -perceptible, I could scarcely persuade myself the patient was secure -from the smallpox. However, on his being inoculated some months -afterwards, it proved that he was secure. This case inspired me with -confidence; and as soon as I could again furnish myself with virus -from the cow, I made an arrangement for a series of inoculations. -A number of children were inoculated in succession, one from the -other; and after several months had elapsed, they were exposed to -the infection of smallpox—some by inoculation, others by variolous -effluvia, and some in both ways, but they all resisted it. The result -of these trials gradually led me into a wider field of experiment, -which I went over not only with great attention, but with painful -solicitude.” - -The great revolution effected by vaccination can scarcely be -appreciated in our days, and some testimonies from the past are -continually needed. The Rev. Dr. Booker, of Dudley, which in his time -contained fourteen thousand inhabitants, testified thus respecting -vaccination and its striking effects: “I have, previous to the -knowledge of the vaccine inoculation, frequently buried, day after -day, several (and once as many as eight) victims of the smallpox. -But since the parish has been blessed with this invaluable boon of -Divine Providence (cowpock), introduced among us nearly four years -ago, only two victims have fallen a prey to the above ravaging -disorder (smallpox). In the surrounding villages, like an insatiable -Moloch, it has lately been devouring vast numbers, where obstinacy -and prejudice have precluded the Jennerian protective blessing, and -not a few of the infected victims have been brought for interment in -our cemeteries; yet, though thousands have thus fallen beside us, the -fatal pestilence has not hitherto again come nigh our dwelling. The -spirit of Jenner hath stood between the dead and the living, and the -plague has been stayed.” - -Many ladies took up the practice of vaccination with zeal and skill. -Thus, up to November 1805, Miss Bayley, of Hope, near Manchester, -had vaccinated two thousand six hundred persons, and a female friend -of hers had vaccinated two thousand. Miss Bayley is related to -have carried on her extensive vaccinations with great judgment and -precision. She commenced by offering five shillings to any one who -could produce an instance of the occurrence of smallpox in any person -vaccinated by her. Out of the whole number of cases above mentioned, -however, only one claim was made; and on referring to her books, it -was found that a mark had been made against the name, indicating a -suspicion that the vaccination had not been effective. - -Dr. Jenner has often been reproached for encouraging unprofessional -persons to practise vaccination: but it should be noted that he never -did so unless the person concerned had carefully studied the subject, -and could be relied on to follow his directions implicitly. In -fact, some of the non-professional vaccinators were more efficient -than many professional ones, for these frequently disdained to be -instructed by him, and by no means followed the rules he laid down. -Thus discredit came to vaccination to a great extent by the mistakes -of its professional advocates. - -The most extraordinary attacks were made upon vaccination and its -promoters, including, of course, most virulent denunciations of -its supposed anti-religious tendencies. Opposing doctors detected -resemblances to ox-faces, produced in children, as they alleged, by -vaccination. A lady complained that since her daughter was vaccinated -she coughed like a cow, and had grown hairy all over her body; and -in one country district it was stated that vaccination had been -discontinued there, because those who had been inoculated in that -manner bellowed like bulls. - -One mode in which some doctors suffered at the time of the -introduction of smallpox is not often remembered. Inoculation with -smallpox was largely practised, and some medical men derived a -considerable proportion of their income from this branch of their -profession. It was stated on good authority that Dr. Woodville, -at one time Physician to the Smallpox Hospital, having given up -inoculation and largely practised vaccination, his income sank in -one year from £1000 to £100; and others who refused to discontinue -inoculation and advocate vaccination were more than suspected of -interested motives. - -The antagonism of vaccination to the so-called designs of Providence -was loudly asserted. One Dr. Squirrel on this head maintained that -“Providence never intended that the vaccine disease should affect -the human race, else why had it not, before this time, visited the -inhabitants of the globe? Notwithstanding this, the vaccine virus -has been forced into the blood by the manufacturing hand of man, and -supported not by science or reason, but by conjecture and folly only, -with a pretence of its exterminating the smallpox from the face of -the earth.” Again, he denounces “the puerility and the impropriety -of such a conduct, viz., of introducing vaccination with a boasted -intention not only to supplant, but also to change and alter, and, -in short, to prevent the established law of nature. The law of God -prohibits the practice; the law of man, and the law of nature, loudly -exclaim against it.” Inoculation had been just as bitterly denounced -as “dangerous,” “sinful,” “diabolical,” in numerous sermons and -medical treatises, when it was introduced, less than a century before -this. - -No more striking evidence of the beneficial results which attended -vaccination, even in Jenner’s lifetime, could be given than those -which attended its introduction into Vienna, where smallpox had -prevailed severely for centuries. The average number of persons who -died at Vienna in each of the first five years of this century was -about 14,600: of these eight hundred and thirty-five died of smallpox -in the year 1800. Vaccination being introduced and extensively -adopted, the number of deaths from smallpox fell to one hundred and -sixty-four in 1801, to sixty-one in 1802, to twenty-seven in 1803, -while in 1804 only two persons died, and these deaths were not -occasioned in Vienna, one being that of a boatman’s child who caught -the disease on the Danube, and the other a child sent to Vienna -from a distant part of the empire already infected. Yet so long was -the practice of vaccination before it spread to an equal extent in -England, that nine hundred and fifty deaths occurred from smallpox in -London in the last three months only of 1805. - -Wherever he might happen to be, Jenner offered to vaccinate -gratuitously all poor persons who applied to him at fixed times. The -people of one parish, in the neighbourhood of Cheltenham, held back, -while the adjacent parishes accepted the new practice to a large -extent. But in one particular year the people of the reluctant parish -arrived in large numbers to claim vaccination for their children. -On inquiry it appeared that smallpox had been among them, causing -many deaths, while those of their neighbours who had been vaccinated -escaped. Yet it was not this potent argument which had been most -influential, but the fact that the cost of coffins and burial -for those who had died of smallpox became alarming to the parish -officials, and they were moved to urge the people authoritatively to -be vaccinated, and so save the parish expenses. - -From this time forward for a number of years Jenner paid annual -visits to London, remaining there a great part of the season, -incessantly occupied in vaccinating, in giving information and -instruction on the subject verbally to many medical men, in writing -to a vast number of persons who corresponded with him from all parts -of the world, for every one who heard of the discovery and wanted -to know more about it applied to the discoverer, and in social -intercourse with people of note, whom he never failed to impress -by his eloquence and perspicuity. We cannot follow here the many -incidents which marked these years, his intercourse with royal -personages, the addresses of congratulation and gratitude which he -received from all kinds of localities and bodies of people, the -foundation of the Royal Jennerian Society, and the like. A few, -however, must find a place. - -A Dr. Pearson, to whom we shall have to refer again, distinguished -himself at first as an ardent vaccinator, but subsequently he seems -to have imagined himself entitled to much of the distinction which -belonged to Dr. Jenner, and in order to secure this, set about -forming a public “vaccine board,” in which the chief official status -was assigned to himself. He succeeded in obtaining the patronage of -the Duke of York and other notable persons. Addressing Jenner on -the subject, in December 1799, Pearson says: “It occurs to me that -it might not be disagreeable to you to be an extra-corresponding -physician.... No expense is to be attached to your situation except -a guinea a year as a subscriber, and indeed I think you ought to be -exempt from that, as you cannot send any patients.” This was pretty -well, one might think, to be addressed to Jenner: in one year after -the full publication of his discovery, he was to be shunted off as an -“extra-corresponding physician.” Jenner’s answer showed the sense in -which he regarded it. “It appears to me somewhat extraordinary that, -an institution formed upon so large a scale, and that has for its -object the inoculation of the cowpox, should have been set on foot -and almost completely organized without my receiving the most distant -intimation of it.... For the present I must beg leave to decline the -_honour_ intended me.” After some discussion, most of the royal and -influential personages who had promised to support Dr. Pearson’s -institution withdrew their names from it. - -At Brunn in Moravia, where Count Francis de Salm introduced and -widely diffused vaccination, the people erected a temple dedicated to -Jenner, and annually held a festival on his birthday. - -The Dowager Empress of Russia first promoted vaccination in that -empire, gave the name Vaccinoff to the first child vaccinated, had -the child taken to St. Petersburg in one of her own coaches, placed -in the Foundling Hospital, with a provision settled on her for life. -In 1802 the Empress sent Dr. Jenner a letter signed with her own -hand, with a valuable diamond ring. In fact in all foreign countries -vaccination was accepted with more enthusiasm than in England. The -proof of this may readily be seen in Dr. Baron’s Life of Jenner. - -Meanwhile Jenner had expended a large amount of money out of his -fortune, in visiting London, distributing information, giving up -to a very large extent his practice at Berkeley, and being by no -means recouped by profits of practice in London. His friends at -length, seeing that he was now debarred from obtaining from practice -an adequate reward for his great discovery, urged him to apply to -Parliament for some reward. This was at last done in 1802, and the -petition was recommended very strongly by the king, and considered by -a committee of the House of Commons. This committee received evidence -which unanimously affirmed the importance and practical value of the -discovery, and almost as unanimously agreed in Jenner’s originality. -Admiral Berkeley, chairman of the committee, said that Jenner’s was -unquestionably the greatest discovery ever made for the preservation -of the human species. A grant of £10,000 was proposed on June 2, -1802, and after a considerable discussion was carried, as against an -amendment proposing to grant £20,000. - -It soon appeared, however, that the House of Commons had failed to -satisfy the sense of justice of the mass of people as well as of -the more eminent members of the medical profession in its grant to -Jenner. Sir Gilbert Blane, in an address he drew up on the subject, -said: “It is the universal voice of this as well as other nations -that the remuneration given to Dr. Jenner is greatly inadequate to -his deserts, and to the magnitude of the benefit his discovery has -conferred on mankind.” - -In January 1803 was founded the Royal Jennerian Institution, -under royal patronage, and with Jenner as president, to propagate -vaccination in London and elsewhere. This continued its operations -for some years with distinguished success; but Dr. Walker, who had -been appointed resident inoculator, soon began to deviate from -Jenner’s instructions, and to adopt methods calculated in Jenner’s -view to bring the practice into disrepute. Consequently the dismissal -of Walker was called for, but was negatived in one division, to which -Walker had brought in as voters twenty persons who only paid their -subscription on the day of voting. By such absurd possibilities -are the steps of benefactors to their race frequently beset. The -resignation of Dr. Walker took place soon afterwards, but the -Jennerian Institution did not fully recover from the effects of -the dissension, and on the establishment of the National Vaccine -Institution in 1808 it became practically extinct. - -Will it be credited that, after the decisive parliamentary vote, for -more than two years the Treasury delayed to pay the money, on one -pretence and another; and when at last it was paid, nearly £1000 was -deducted on account of fees. Akin to this, though the amount was -trifling, was a demand made upon Jenner for five pounds admission -fees, when the corporation of Dublin conferred upon him the freedom -of that city. - -Among the multitude of testimonies of appreciation which Jenner -received, not the least interesting is one which proceeded from the -chiefs of the “Five Nations” of Canadian Indians, the Mohawks, the -Onondagas, the Senecas, the Oneidas, and the Coyongas. Their address -to him ran as follows: “Brother! our Father has delivered to us the -book you sent to instruct us how to use the discovery which the Great -Spirit made to you, whereby the smallpox, that fatal enemy of our -tribes, may be driven from the earth. We have deposited your book in -the hands of the man of skill whom our Great Father employs to attend -us when sick or wounded. We shall not fail to teach our children to -speak the name of Jenner; and to thank the Great Spirit for bestowing -upon him so much wisdom and so much benevolence. We send with this -a belt and string of wampum, in token of our acceptance of your -precious gift; and we beseech the Great Spirit to take care of you in -this world, and in the land of spirits.” - -In 1804 one of the most beautiful of the Napoleon series of medals -was struck in commemoration of the Emperor’s estimate of the value of -vaccination. He was so sensible of Jenner’s claims, that he allowed -his petitions for the liberation of British subjects to prevail. -Napoleon was about to reject one petition, but when Josephine uttered -the name of Jenner, he paused and exclaimed, “Jenner! ah, we can -refuse nothing to that man.” Perhaps no more striking example of the -extent to which Jenner’s influence extended outside England could be -given, than the fact that numbers of persons travelled abroad or on -shipboard bearing with them, in preference to a passport, a simple -certificate signed “Edward Jenner,” testifying that the persons were -known to him and were travelling in pursuit of health, or science, or -other affairs unconnected with war. When the great war was over, and -the allied sovereigns visited London, Jenner was introduced, among -others, to the Emperor of Russia and the King of Prussia, by their -special request. - -But in Great Britain there were many things calculated to detract -from Jenner’s perfect enjoyment. On various occasions the British -government were by no means eager to show him a respect and honour -equal to that paid to him abroad. When various government officials -combined to launch a national vaccine establishment, it was at first -stated that Jenner was to be director, with the stipulation that -no one was to take any part in the vaccinating department who was -not either nominated or approved by him. Yet soon afterwards, out -of eight persons nominated by Jenner, six were rejected. Jenner -himself was not admitted a member of the Board, which was composed -exclusively of the four censors of the College of Physicians and -the master, and two senior wardens of the College of Surgeons. In -consequence of this treatment, occurring in 1808, when vaccination -was so universally recognised, Dr. Jenner resigned the post of -director, but was succeeded by his friend, Mr. Moore, who was -thoroughly in his confidence. - -A picture of Jenner’s inward life at this period, when the subject -of a second parliamentary grant was being considered, may here be -given from a letter of his:—“As for myself, I bear the fatigues and -worries of a public character better by far than those who know the -acuteness of my feelings could have anticipated. Happy should I be to -give up my laurels for the repose of retirement, did I not feel it to -be my duty to be in the world. I certainly derive the most soothing -consolation from my labours, the benefits of which are felt the world -over; but less appreciated, perhaps, in this island than in any other -part of the civilised world.... Cheltenham is much improved since -you saw it. It is too gay for me. I still like my rustic haunt, old -Berkeley, best; where we are all going in about a fortnight. Edward -is growing tall, and has long looked over my head. Catherine, now -eleven years old, is a promising girl; and Robert, eight years old, -is just a chip of the old block.” - -In July 1806 Lord Henry Petty, who had succeeded Mr. Pitt as -Chancellor of the Exchequer, carried a motion in the Commons, that -the Royal College of Physicians should be requested to inquire into -the progress of vaccine inoculation. The College made an inquiry, -giving the fullest scope to the opponents of vaccination, and -finally reported that, considering the number, respectability, -disinterestedness, and extensive experience of its advocates, -compared with the feeble and imperfect testimonies of its few -opposers, the value of the practice seemed established as firmly as -possible. In July 1807 the subject was again debated in Parliament, -and a proposal to grant £10,000 was rejected in favour of one moved -by Mr. Edward Morris that £20,000 be granted to Dr. Jenner. - -The European inhabitants of India were from the first among the most -earnest in recognising Jenner’s merits, and afforded him in many -ways practical testimonies of their gratitude. About £4000 were -transmitted to him from Calcutta in 1806 and following years; from -Bombay £2000, and from Madras nearly £1400. - -The effects of incessant labours were beginning seriously to tell -on Jenner’s health, when in 1810 he lost his eldest son from -consumption, in his 21st year. This event preyed much on his mind, -and left him in a state occasioning great anxiety to his friends. In -the same year he lost his firm friend the Earl of Berkeley, and his -beloved sister, Mrs. Black. Under these troubles he felt the more -acutely the calumnious attacks to which he was constantly subjected. -Dr. Parry of Bath, writing to him about this time, says—“For -Heaven’s sake, think no more of these wasps, who hum and buzz about -you, and whom your indifference and silence will freeze into utter -oblivion. Let me again entreat you not to give them one moment’s -consideration, _opus exegisti ære perennius_. The great business is -accomplished, and the blessing is ready for those who choose to avail -themselves of it; and with regard to those who reject it, the evil -will be on their own heads.” - -In 1811 occurred the first well-authenticated case of smallpox in -a boy vaccinated by Jenner, the Hon. Robert Grosvenor. The disease -became severe and threatened death, when all at once the later stages -were passed through rapidly, and a good recovery was made. Other -vaccinated children in this family were exposed to the contagion, and -did not suffer. There seemed every reason, as Jenner explained, to -ascribe the failure of protection in the first case to a peculiarity -of constitution which would probably have exposed the patient to -a second attack of smallpox. In fact, Dr. Jenner had vaccinated -the child when in weak health at a month old. Lady Grosvenor was -timid, and prevailed on him, contrary to his usual practice, to -make one puncture only; and the pustule that resulted was deranged -in its progress by being rubbed by the nurse. Nevertheless the -case created much alarm and excitement, and greatly exhilarated -the anti-vaccinists. Jenner’s simple answer was to admit the fact, -alleging that if ten, fifty, or a hundred such events should occur, -they would be balanced a hundred times over by cases of second -attacks of smallpox. “I have ever considered the variolous and the -vaccine radically and essentially the same. As the inoculation of the -former has been known to fail in instances so numerous, it would -be very extraordinary if the latter should always be exempt from -failure. It would tend to invalidate my early doctrine on this point.” - -A letter of Jenner to Dr. Baron on this subject, exhibits perhaps the -utmost degree of irritation that he showed. “The Town is a fool—an -idiot,” he remarks, “and will continue in this red-hot, hissing-hot -state about this affair, till something else starts up to draw aside -its attention. I am determined to lock up my brains and think no more -_pro bono publico_.... It is my intention to collect all the cases I -can of smallpox, after supposed security from that disease.” - -In 1813 the degree of M.D. was voted to Jenner by the University of -Oxford. It was expected that the London College of Physicians would -have followed suit by admitting him to membership, but they exacted a -full examination, which Jenner at his age, and with his reputation, -could not be expected to submit to. In the summer of 1814 Jenner -visited London for the last time, being presented to the Czar, and -having numerous interviews with his sister, the Grand Duchess of -Oldenburg. On the 13th September, 1815, Mrs. Jenner died, a calamity -which most deeply afflicted Dr. Jenner, and seemed to mark his -retirement from active public life. It is much to be regretted that -he did not live to complete and publish his own final account, and -matured convictions, as to the suitable conditions of vaccination, -and the modifications and imperfections to which it was liable. This -engaged much of his attention in his later years, but his inquiries -were interrupted by illness and by family affliction. His later -years were made painful by extreme nervous sensitiveness, and he had -several attacks which foreboded death by apoplexy, which ultimately -occurred on 26th January, 1823. He was buried at Berkeley, by the -side of his wife, on 3d February. - -Jenner’s nature, says his biographer, was mild, unobtrusive, -unambitious; the singleness of his heart and his genuine modesty -graced and adorned his splendid reputation. Had those who opposed him -known how little of selfishness, vanity, or pride entered into his -composition! He made no answer to aspersions. - -“All the friends who watched him longest, and have seen most of his -mind and of his conduct, with one voice declare that there was a -something about him which they never witnessed in any other man. The -first things that a stranger would remark were the gentleness, the -simplicity, the artlessness of his manner. There was a total absence -of all ostentation or display; so much so, that in the ordinary -intercourse of society he appeared as a person who had no claims to -notice. He was perfectly unreserved, and free from all guile. He -carried his heart and his mind so openly, so undisguisedly, that -all might read them. You could not converse with him, you could not -enter his house nor his study, without seeing what sort of man dwelt -there.” - -“The objects of his studies generally lay scattered around him; and, -as he used often to say himself, seemingly in chaotic confusion. -Fossils, and other specimens of natural history, anatomical -preparations, books, papers, letters—all presented themselves in -strange disorder; but every article bore the impress of the genius -that presided there. The fossils were marked by small pieces of -paper pasted on them, having their names and the places where they -were found inscribed in his own plain and distinct hand-writing.... -He seemed to have no secrets of any kind: and, notwithstanding a -long experience with the world, he acted to the last as if all -mankind were trustworthy, and free from selfishness as himself. -He had a working head, being never idle, and accumulated a great -store of original observations. These treasures he imparted most -generously and liberally. Indeed, his chief pleasure seemed to be in -pouring out the ample riches of his mind to every one who enjoyed -his acquaintance. He had often reason to lament this unbounded -confidence; but such ungrateful returns neither chilled his ardour -nor ruffled his temper.” - -Such was the man to whom the world was indebted for vaccination; no -court or metropolitan physician, no university student, but a country -doctor, a man of science and of benevolence, whose name is undying. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -_SIR ASTLEY COOPER AND ABERNETHY: THE KNIFE_ VERSUS _REGIMEN._ - - -Few men have been more renowned in their day than the great “Sir -Astley.” - -ASTLEY COOPER was the grandson of a surgeon at Norwich. His father -was a very estimable clergyman in Norfolk; his mother wrote novels -of some repute, and was noted for her benevolence and unselfishness. -Astley, the fourth son of a numerous family, was born on August 23, -1768. His youth was marked by a succession of hairbreadth escapes -and exploits, demanding coolness and audacity. He had no great taste -for classics or literature in youth or through life. As a youth he -had a handsome and expressive countenance, with much openness of -manner and liveliness of conversation, so that he often charmed -those who disapproved of his wild freaks. Like John Hunter, he had a -free youth, and if unimproved was likewise unspoiled by systematic -training. - -Both the grandfather and the uncle of Astley Cooper, the latter -a lecturer at Guy’s, are credited with some share in exciting a -surgical bias in the boy’s mind. Visiting the Norwich hospital one -day, and seeing a striking operation, he was strongly impressed with -the utility of surgery. In 1784 a visit from his uncle, the London -surgeon, led to the nephew being articled to him; but his progress -here was limited, owing to the attraction which a free town-life had -for him at first. One day he was met by his uncle disguised in the -uniform of an officer, and the former recognising his nephew, the -latter denied all knowledge of him. The detection of this escapade -was soon followed by his transfer as a pupil from his uncle to Mr. -Cline, who then shared with Abernethy the next honours as a surgeon -to John Hunter. Under Cline, young Cooper imbibed the spirit of -Hunter’s teaching from one of his most enthusiastic pupils: for -Cline’s judgment about Hunter was that there seemed no comparison -between his great mind and all who had preceded him. - -Sir Astley Cooper at a later period thus depicts his old master: “Mr. -Cline was a man of excellent judgment, of great caution, of accurate -knowledge; particularly taciturn abroad, yet open, friendly, and -very conversationable at home. In surgery cool, safe, judicious; in -anatomy sufficiently informed. In politics a Democrat, living in -friendship with Horne Tooke. In morals thoroughly honest; in religion -a Deist. A good husband, son, and father. As a friend sincere, but -not active; as an enemy most inveterate.” - -Young Cooper was soon actively engaged in dissection, and his -adventurous nature found scope in many a night-expedition with the -body-snatchers or resurrectionists in their search for “subjects.” - -He spent one winter session (1787-8) at Edinburgh, having already -made considerable progress in anatomy and surgery. He greatly -appreciated Cullen, Black, and Fyfe. Having returned from Edinburgh, -he attended John Hunter and other celebrated lecturers, and in 1789, -being only 21, he was appointed demonstrator at St. Thomas’s. Two -years later Mr. Cline obtained for him the joint lectureship with -himself in anatomy and surgery. In December 1791 he married Miss -Anne Cock. The wedding was perfectly quiet owing to the recent death -of the lady’s father, and on the evening of the same day Astley -Cooper lectured on surgery with his usual composure, without any of -his pupils becoming aware of his marriage. In June 1792 the young -surgeon and his bride visited Paris, and were there during the three -terrible months which followed. Cooper spent much time in studying -Parisian methods of surgery and in attending the debates of the -National Assembly. His safety was secured by a democratic badge, and -by friendship with leading revolutionists in England to whom Cline -adhered. - -In addition to his income from his hospital lectures, Mr. Cooper -came into possession by his marriage of a fortune of fourteen -thousand pounds, so that he was at once placed beyond any pecuniary -anxiety. He consequently was enable to devote himself mainly to -study and teaching. He went to the hospital before breakfast to -dissect for lecture, and he also demonstrated to students before the -lecture-hour. He injected their subjects, lectured from two till -half-past three, and three evenings a week lectured on surgery. -Further, he persevered in visiting the interesting cases in the -hospital and making notes of them. His lectures on surgery, which -he was the first in the Borough hospitals to separate from anatomy -and physiology, were not at the beginning a conspicuous success. He -found that he had been too theoretical, but soon changed his plan, -and selected cases in the hospital as the basis of his lectures. From -this moment his class increased and became interested. He himself -acquired a facility in recalling cases and circumstances illustrative -of the disease under consideration which greatly added to the -attractiveness of his style. The fact is, he was not the intellectual -successor of John Hunter, and could not succeed by similar methods. -Yet the influence of Hunter upon him was unmixedly beneficial; he had -the wit to perceive that Hunter was not “an imaginative speculator, -and any one who believed in him a blockhead and a blacksheep in the -profession.” The improved lectures on surgery attracted twice as -many entries in 1793 as in 1792, and Mr. Cooper was besides selected -as lecturer on anatomy at the College of Surgeons. A chief part of -his duties in this latter capacity was to lecture on and dissect the -bodies of executed criminals. The lectures were most successfully -given to crowded audiences. In 1797 the now rising surgeon removed -from his early residence in Jeffries Square, St. Mary Axe, to 12 -St. Mary Axe, long occupied by Mr. Cline, who now moved westward. -In the next year he had a severe accident, being thrown from his -horse on his head, and his life was in considerable danger for some -time. The extent of Mr. Cline’s consolatory sympathy, when Cooper -was lamenting the risk to his life because of its interference with -some professional inquiry likely to be of public benefit, was thus -expressed: “Make yourself quite easy, my friend; the result of your -disorder, whether fatal or otherwise, will not be thought of the -least consequence by mankind.” - -An early pupil, Dr. William Roots, however, gives a very different -account of Cooper’s “consequence to mankind.” “From the period of -Astley’s appointment to Guy’s until the moment of his latest breath, -he was everything and all to the suffering and afflicted; his name -was a host, but his presence brought confidence and comfort; and I -have often observed that on an operating day, should anything occur -of an untoward character in the theatre, the moment Astley Cooper -entered, and the instrument was in his hand, every difficulty was -overcome, and safety generally ensued.” No doubt reference is here -made to the fact recorded by Sir Astley himself as follows: “I was -always of opinion that Mr. Cline and I gained more reputation at the -hospitals by assisting our colleagues than by our own operations, for -they were always in scrapes, and we were obliged to help them out of -them.” - -Mr. Travers, who became Astley Cooper’s articled pupil in 1800, -says at that time he was the handsomest, most intelligent-looking -and finely formed man he ever saw. According to the custom of his -time, he wore his hair powdered, with a queue, and had always a -glow of colour in his cheeks. In his daily ride he wore a blue -coat and yellow buckskin breeches and top-boots. He was remarkably -upright, and moved with grace, vigour, and elasticity, and would not -unfrequently throw his well-shaped leg upon the table at lecture, -to illustrate some injury or operation on the lower extremity. -Cheerfulness of temper amounting to vivacity, and a relish for the -ludicrous, never deserted him, and his chuckling laugh, scarce -smothered while he told his story, his mirthful look and manner, -and his punning habit, were well known. His personal habits were -very simple; he drank water at dinner, and took two glasses of -port after. A good digestion never forsook him; as he said, “he -could digest anything but sawdust.” He was remarkable for requiring -little amusement or company beyond what he found in his professional -pursuits; and he read comparatively little medical literature. - -It has often been alleged that Astley Cooper was somewhat unfeeling -in nature; and it must be admitted that he had not a deep sympathy -with bodily pain, for his own insusceptibility was equalled by his -physical endurance. Yet he always sympathised deeply with mental -suffering, and Mr. Travers, who saw him read a posthumous letter -from a favourite pupil who had committed suicide, relates that -his utterance was choked with sobs, and he wept as for the loss of -an only child. That his affection was not restricted to his own -immediate family is shown by the fact that on the deeply regretted -death of his little daughter he adopted into his family a little girl -who was no relative, but whose mother died early; and subsequently he -himself brought from Yarmouth in the coach, a twenty hours’ journey, -his little nephew, Astley, then two years old, who subsequently -became his successor in the baronetcy. - -More widely known than the nephew during Sir Astley’s life was his -servant, Charles Osbaldeston—a name which in practice softened down -into Balderson. He was keenly alive to his master’s interest, and had -much tact and disposition for manœuvre; he boasted that in twenty-six -years he never lost a patient for his master whom it was possible to -retain. Wherever Mr. Cooper was, Charles would start after him, if -urgently required, and at any cost of post-horses track him out and -bring him triumphantly to the fore. - -Mr. Cooper in his earlier years, when anatomy formed a great -part of his work, was of necessity largely concerned with the -resurrectionists, and was one of the main supporters, it may be -equally conceded, of their practices, the details of which he was -not unfrequently made acquainted with. But the state of the law, -which almost made it impossible to gain possession of subjects for -dissection legally, must be accepted as the apology for much that -would now as then be regarded as shocking. It cannot be strictly -germane to Sir Astley Cooper’s life to describe the procedure of -the body-snatchers, as Mr. Bransby Cooper has done;[17] but it may -be remarked that on occasions when public notice was threatened, -Astley Cooper took prompt steps to obviate injurious publicity of -his name. For a time the men of ill-fame reigned supreme, exacting -almost what prices they chose. If any demur was made, they stopped -the supplies, and then the medical students became angry, held -indignation meetings, sent deputations to their teachers, sometimes -asserting that their lecturers were not as active or as liberal as -those of some rival school, and threatening to leave _en masse_. -Thus the lecturers were in a manner forced to pay more for their -subjects than they could receive from their pupils for dissecting -them. Another disagreeable consequence was, that when the regular -“resurrectionists” got into trouble, the surgeons had to make great -exertions in their behalf, and often advanced large sums to defend -them, or to keep them and their families during imprisonment. Sir -Astley Cooper spent hundreds of pounds in this way. One of his -accounts includes £14, 7s. for half the expenses of going down -and bailing Vaughan at Yarmouth, £13 for Vaughan’s support during -twenty-six weeks’ imprisonment, £50, 8s. for four subjects, paid to -Murphy, and six guineas “finishing money” to three men, a douceur at -the end of a session. - -The high prices paid led some people to offer their bodies before -death; but of course this was illegal. Sir Astley’s brief answer -to one offer from a third party asking to know the truth, was—“The -_truth_ is that you deserve to be hanged for making such an unfeeling -offer.” But under other circumstances, when the obtaining of the -corpse of a person who had died after an operation interesting to -the surgeon was in question, Sir Astley paid large sums, and was -thus enabled to add many valuable specimens of surgical results to -his museum. Thus his accounts for 1820 show the following entries -in regard to obtaining the body of a man on whom he had operated -twenty-four years before: “Coach for two there and back, £3, 12s.; -guards and coachmen, 6s.; expenses for two days, £1, 14s. 6d; -carriage of subject, and porter, 12s. 6d.; subject, £7, 7s.; total, -£13, 12s.” - -This subject was to be obtained, we read, “cost what it may.” It is -no wonder, then, that of Sir Astley it might be said that no man knew -so much of the habits, the crimes, and the few good qualities of the -resurrectionists. He could obtain any subject he pleased, however -guarded: and indeed offered to do so. No one could go further than he -did before a Committee of the House of Commons, to whom he plainly -avowed: “There is no person, let his situation in life be what it -may, whom, if I were disposed to dissect, I could not obtain. The law -only enhances the price, and does not prevent the exhumation.” At -last the dreadful disclosures about the practices of “burking” in -Edinburgh in 1829 led to the passing of the Anatomy Act, legalising -dissection under proper regulations. - -Nor were human bodies the only ones laid under contribution by Astley -Cooper. When animals were wanted for some physiological illustration -or investigation, his man Charles could always procure them, and -he had at one time as many as thirty dogs, besides other animals, -shut up in the hayloft. Half-a-crown a piece was paid by Charles on -receipt of the dogs, however obtained, and no doubt dog-stealing -was one source. The menagerie at the Tower was to Mr. Cooper, as -it had been to John Hunter, a considerable resource for specimens -for dissection. In 1801 an enormous elephant came under his knife, -and being too unwieldy to be got into the dissecting-room, it had -to be cut up in the courtyard, where, assisted by several students, -Mr. Cooper gave himself no rest till all the interesting parts were -preserved and deposited in St. Thomas’s Museum. Bird-stuffers, -fishmongers, and poultry merchants were also among the sources of -supply for his unwearying knife. - -To Astley Cooper, as to most men who rise to eminence, remunerative -practice came but slowly. “My receipt,” says he, “for the first -year was £5, 5s; the second, £26; the third, £54; the fourth, £96; -the fifth, £100; the sixth, £200; the seventh, £400; the eighth, -£610; the ninth (the year in which he was appointed surgeon to the -hospital), £1100.” This was in 1800, when his uncle, William Cooper, -resigned the surgeoncy. It might have been supposed that the uncle -would favour his nephew’s succession in every way possible; but -he rather supported Mr. Morris, the strongest competitor. For the -rising star made the elder jealous of his brilliancy, and moreover -always regarded Cline, at St. Thomas’s, as his uncle’s superior. Thus -Astley Cooper’s success was by no means certain, as his political -associations with Horne Tooke and Thelwall were strenuously alleged -against him. But Astley, ever preferring success to politics, -resolved on giving up the latter and on being neutral for the future, -at any rate as to all open proceedings. This resolve secured his -appointment by Mr. Harrison, the well-known treasurer of Guy’s, who -with Sir Astley shares the highest credit in the establishment of its -medical school. He now absented himself from Mr. Cline’s political -parties, and always advised young surgeons not to attach themselves -to particular parties, as their duties must extend to persons of all -views. He also, to leave no stone unturned, personally canvassed each -of the seventy-two governors. - -In 1800 Astley made his first communication to the Royal Society, on -the effects of destruction of the tympanic membrane of the ear. He -had found that considerable openings might be made in the membrane -without impairing the hearing power. He consequently applied this -operation to certain kinds of deafness resulting from disease or -obstruction in the Eustachian tube, and in 1801 sent in another -paper detailing the results of twenty cases. Although his success in -restoring lost hearing was much less than he had anticipated, the -operation has since been frequently performed, and the Royal Society -in 1802 awarded him the Copley Medal for these papers. In the same -year he was elected F.R.S. - -Astley Cooper’s activities were at this time strongly directed -towards the improvement of his profession by intercourse and -discussion at societies, of several of which he was the life and -soul. The Physical Society at Guy’s Hospital afforded his earliest -opportunity of this kind, and long retained his active interest. -During his short stay at Edinburgh his predominance was so evident -that he was chosen president of a society to protect students’ -rights against usurpations by the professors. Here also he joined a -Speculative Society, and read a paper in favour of the Berkeleian -theory of matter. One of the debates which he opened was on the -subject “Is man a free agent?” He would have been a president of -the Royal Medical Society at Edinburgh had he returned for a second -winter, so much did he distinguish himself in debate. At a later -period the strength of his association with Edinburgh was attested by -his forming the Edinburgh Club in London for former Edinburgh medical -students. The most important society, however, with the foundation -of which he was connected, was the Royal Medical Chirurgical -Society, which originated in a secession from the Medical Society -of London. Dr. Yelloly, who was intimately connected with the new -foundation, says of Mr. Cooper at this time: “I never saw any one -more open-hearted as a companion, more unreserved in his remarks, -with always a large store of information at his command, and who was -at the same time more kindly disposed, and abounding in all sorts -of material for the gratification of those with whom he associated. -He was not a reading man; but he contrived to get the most valuable -information of every description, whether professional or general, -and always to use it in the best, the most attractive, and the -readiest way.” The treasurer of the society was Astley Cooper, and he -rendered essential service. The earliest volume of its Transactions, -published in 1809, contained a paper recording his first operation -for the relief of aneurism of the carotid artery by tying it below -the aneurism—a method now established. But he had previously -published (part 1 in 1804, part 2 in 1807) a work which largely -contributed to his reputation, namely, on Hernia or Rupture. A second -edition was published in 1827. The anatomical structures concerned -were excellently expounded and illustrated, and the experience gained -in frequently and successfully operating in cases of this disease -gave Mr. Cooper a position of the highest authority. As so often -happens to medical men, his attention was especially called to this -disease from the fact that he had been subject to it from early life. -The anatomical study he undertook in order to perfect his knowledge -of this matter was immense. “I have related no case,” he says, “and -given no remark, for the truth of which I cannot vouch.” When his -pupils showed him some interesting appearance in a dissection, he -would say; “That is the way, sir, to learn your profession. Look -for yourself; never mind what other people may say, no opinion or -theories can interfere with information derived from dissection.” -The expense of the illustrations to this work was so great that Mr. -Cooper was loser of a thousand pounds by it when every copy had been -sold. - -In 1806 Mr. Cooper left St. Mary Axe to occupy the house in New Broad -Street which for nine years was crowded by his patients, during -the most remunerative years of his life. In those years he rose at -six, dissected privately till eight, and from half-past eight saw -large numbers of gratuitous patients. At breakfast he ate only two -well-buttered hot rolls, drank his tea, cool, at a draught, read his -paper a few minutes, and then was off to his consulting-room, turning -round with a sweet benign smile as he left the room. Patients crowded -his rooms and besieged “Charles,” using manifold devices to get the -earliest interview possible. At one o’clock he would scarcely see -another patient, even if the house was full; but if detained half -an hour later, would fly into a rage, abuse Charles, and jump into -his carriage, leaving Charles to appease the disappointed patients. -Sometimes the people in the hall and ante-room were so importunate -that Mr. Cooper was driven to escape through his stables and into -a passage by Bishopsgate Church. At Guy’s he was awaited by a crowd -of pupils on the steps, and at once went into the wards, addressing -the patients with such tenderness of voice and expression that he at -once gained their confidence. His few pertinent questions and quick -diagnosis were of themselves remarkable, no less than the judicious -calm manner in which he enforced the necessity for operations when -required. At two the pupils would suddenly leave the ward, run across -the street to the old St. Thomas’s Hospital, and seat themselves -in the anatomical theatre. After the lecture, which was often so -crowded that men stood in the gangways and passages near to gain -such portions of his lecture as they might fortunately pick up, he -went round the dissecting-room, and afterwards left the hospital to -visit patients, or to operate privately, returning home at half-past -six or seven. Every spare minute in his carriage was occupied with -dictating to his assistants notes or remarks on cases or other -subjects on which he was engaged. At dinner he ate rapidly and not -very elegantly, talking and joking; after dinner he slept for ten -minutes at will, and then started to his surgical lecture, if it were -a lecture night. In the evening he was usually again on a round of -visits till midnight. - -Dr. Pettigrew, in his “Medical Portrait Gallery,” thus vividly -describes the overpowering influence Sir Astley had upon his pupils: -“I can never forget the enthusiasm with which he entered upon the -performance of any duty calculated to abridge human suffering. This -enthusiasm, by the generosity of his character, his familiar manner, -and the excellence of his temper, he imparted to all around him; -and the extent of the obligations of the present and of after ages -to Sir Astley Cooper, in thus forming able and spirited surgeons, -can never be accurately estimated. He was the idol of the Borough -School. The pupils followed him in troops; and, like to Linnæus, -who has been described as proceeding upon his botanical excursions -accompanied by hundreds of students, so may Sir Astley be depicted -traversing the wards of the hospital with an equal number of pupils, -listening with almost breathless anxiety to catch the observations -which fell from his lips. But on the days of operation this feeling -was wound up to the highest pitch. The sight was altogether deeply -interesting; the large theatre of Guy’s crowded to the ceiling—the -profound silence obtained upon his entry—that person so manly -and so truly imposing—and the awful feeling connected with the -occasion—can never be forgotten by any of his pupils. The elegance -of his operation, without the slightest affectation, all ease, all -kindness to the patients, and equally solicitous that nothing should -be hidden from the observation of the pupils; rapid in execution, -masterly in manner; no hurry, no disorder, the most trifling minutiæ -attended to, the dressings generally applied by his own hand. The -light and elegant manner in which Sir Astley employed his various -instruments always astonished me, and I could not refrain from -making some remarks upon it to my late master, Mr. Chandler, one of -the surgeons to St. Thomas’s Hospital. I observed to him, that Sir -Astley’s operations appeared like the graceful efforts of an artist -in making a drawing. Mr. C. replied, ‘Sir, it is of no consequence -what instrument Mr. Cooper uses, they are all alike to him; and I -verily believe he could operate as easily with an oyster-knife as -the best bit of cutlery in Laundy’s shop.’ There was great truth in -this observation. Sir Astley was, at that time, decidedly one of the -first operators of the day, and this must be taken in its widest -sense, for it is intended to include the planning of the operation, -the precision and dexterity in the mode of its performance, and the -readiness with which all difficulties were met and overcome.” - -Mr. Cooper, notwithstanding his persevering industry in dissection, -would not have found time to acquire all the knowledge he did, but -for employing several assistants either to dissect the specimens he -obtained from operations or from _post mortem_ examinations, or as -artists and modellers, amanuenses, &c. He was very peremptory in his -orders to his assistants to obtain for him any specimen he required, -and would not listen to suggestions of difficulties. “So and so must -be done,” he said, and his tone did not admit of the possibility -of failure. Thus he accumulated the large collection of morbid -specimens which he contributed to St. Thomas’s Hospital, at a time -when such collections were poohpoohed, and so little regarded, that -he could readily obtain any specimen he desired which was at the -disposal of his colleagues. With regard to his proceedings in these -matters the utmost secrecy was observed, entrance to his private -dissecting-rooms being jealously restricted to himself and his paid -assistants. When it was difficult to obtain leave to make a _post -mortem_ examination in private practice, he would spend a long time -in arguing most strenuously upon the matter with the relatives, -pointing out the reasons which rendered it desirable in the interests -of science. His only child was examined by his express wish by a -friend; and he left strict injunctions and directions for the _post -mortem_ on his own body. In very few cases was his determination ever -frustrated. - -Astley Cooper reached his zenith in Broad Street. In one year his -income reached £21,000; for many years it was £15,000. One merchant -prince paid him £600 a year; the story of another, who tossed him a -cheque for a thousand guineas in his night-cap, after a successful -operation for stone, is well known. Many of his patients wrote a -cheque for their fee when they consulted him, and never made it less -than five guineas. It is amusing to contrast with his reputation as -a surgeon and operator, the extremely limited pharmacopœia to which -he trusted. “Give me,” he would say, “opium, tartarized antimony, -sulphate of magnesia, calomel and bark, and I would ask for little -else:” and from five or six formulæ he gave his poorer patients a -constant stock of medicine. - -Mr. Cooper was appointed Professor of Comparative Anatomy at the -Royal College of Surgeons in 1813, being the first appointment after -Sir Everard Home retired. He lectured during only two seasons, in -1814 and 1815. Not being deeply read in his subject, he resolved to -see what industry could do, and restricted himself to three or four -hours’ sleep, that he might gain additional time for the dissection -of animals. He also employed several assistants to dissect for him, -and the result was that his specimens came by coach-loads to each -lecture. Mr. Clift remarks of one lecture, “This was an overpowering -discourse, and highly perfumed, the preparations being chiefly recent -and half-dried and varnished.” His lectures were very successful, -though he would have preferred lecturing on surgery, which was -allotted to Abernethy. In the year last mentioned he resigned the -professorship and also moved to New Street, W., hoping thereby to -diminish the fatigue occasioned by the numerous visits which he had -to pay westward. In the following May he signalised his skill by his -celebrated operation of tying the aorta or principal artery of the -body, for aneurism, in a case in which life was in the extremest -peril. The ease with which he prepared for the operation and the -masterly skill and success with which he completed it—without the aid -of chloroform, be it remembered—excited admiration throughout the -profession, who could best judge of the difficulties which had to be -overcome. The patient died of incurable disease, but the success of -the operation was undoubted. - -After having for some years attended Lord Liverpool, Mr. Cooper was -in 1820 called in to George IV., who afterwards insisted on his -performing a small operation upon him, although he then held no court -appointment. He was very reluctant, fearing erysipelas, and only at -length yielded to command. His success in this was followed by the -conferment of a baronetcy, which was hailed with acclamation by all -his friends both professional and public. - -In 1822 Sir Astley first became an Examiner at the College of -Surgeons. In this capacity he was very conscientious and considerate, -never asking catch-questions, or making abstract inquiries, but -invariably dwelling upon practical matters, and putting his questions -in simple and straightforward language. In the same year appeared -perhaps his most important work, that on Dislocations and Fractures -of the Joints, and as was his fixed principle, he published it at -a price just sufficient to cover the cost of the letterpress and -engravings. - -In January 1825 Sir Astley resigned his lectureship at St. Thomas’s, -owing to the impairment of his health. Mr. Key had previously been -delivering part of his surgical course, and his nephew Bransby -Cooper had undertaken the anatomical lectures; and Sir Astley was -determined to secure their succession to his appointments. He had -only resigned in the firm conviction that this was generally agreed -upon. His astonishment may be imagined when he learnt that Mr. South -had been appointed anatomical lecturer. Sir Astley, desiring to -withdraw his resignation, was informed that it was too late. Mr. -Harrison, however, the then spirited treasurer of Guy’s, came to -the rescue, and offered to establish a school of medicine at Guy’s, -totally independent of St. Thomas’s, and to appoint Mr. Key and Mr. -Bransby Cooper to the chairs of surgery and anatomy. This was at -once agreed to, and a lecture theatre and other premises hastily -built during the summer, so that the new school of Guy’s was opened -in the succeeding October. A large proportion of the old pupils of -the united schools of St. Thomas’s and Guy’s entered at Guy’s, and a -considerable number of new pupils coming up, the now famous school -was prosperously floated. Sir Astley did not lecture much for the -new school, though he gave a few occasional lectures on anatomy -and surgery, which of course were crowded to excess. He now became -consulting surgeon to Guy’s, and evidenced his zeal by commencing the -formation of a museum like that which he had already deposited at St. -Thomas’s, and which he would have removed thence had it been in his -power. In 1827 he was elected President of the College of Surgeons. - -By this time Sir Astley had adopted the habit of spending as much -of his time as possible on his estate at Gadesbridge, near Hemel -Hempstead. Here he became a rural character, shooting and “making -shoot” with eagerness and joviality. Lady Cooper, having lost -her adopted daughter, Mrs. Parmenter, and having had no second -child, could not endure living in London. In 1825, Sir Astley took -his home-farm upon his hands, and kept it in consummate order, -at considerable expense, it must be owned. He was always either -experimenting or trying to carry out some new plan he had heard of -or observed. He again and again became violently angry, as he grew -older, when he found that his ideal farm only produced substantial -loss: and used repeatedly to vow he would never allow such passion -to overcome him again. One of his experiments in farming was the -purchase of lame or ill-fed horses at Smithfield at from five -to seven pounds apiece, feeding and doctoring them himself at -Gadesbridge, and turning them into much better animals. He sometimes -made a good profit in this way, and for years drove in his own -carriage horses that had only cost him twelve pounds ten. If they -were past cure, he would experiment upon them according to what -investigation he might have in progress at the time. - -Lady Cooper’s death in June 1827 was a heavy blow to Sir Astley, and -he was so much affected by it that he resolved to retire altogether -from practice. Before the end of the year, however, he found the -_ennui_ of retirement insupportable, and returned to town and full -practice again. He was married a second time to Miss C. Jones in July -1828. The same year he was appointed Sergeant-Surgeon to the King, -an appointment in which he was continued at William IV.’s accession. -Having no lectures, he still dissected, and occupied himself largely -with completing his various works for the press. His “Illustrations -of Diseases of the Breast” appeared in 1829, and was followed by -“Diseases of the Testis,” 1830, “The Anatomy of the Thymus Gland,” -1832. He was for a second time President of the Royal College of -Surgeons in 1836. - -In his old age, even when travelling about, Sir Astley never lost his -passion for dissecting, and always visited every hospital and surgeon -of note on his travels. He never liked staying more than a few days -in one place; he soon began to pine after his accustomed pursuits. On -several occasions, when detained longer than he liked in one place, -he would get up early and leave by coach for London, without giving -any warning of his intention. - -On a visit which he made to Edinburgh in 1837, the freedom of the -city was conferred upon him and the honorary LL.D. He had previously -been made D.C.L. of Oxford. He continued his anatomical and surgical -investigations to the last, publishing a splendid work on the -Anatomy of the Breast in 1840, preliminary to a complete account -of the diseases to which it is liable, which was never completed. -He died on the 12th of October 1841, in the seventy-third year of -his age, at Conduit Street, where he had practised latterly. He was -buried, by his own particular request, beneath the chapel of Guy’s -Hospital. A statue of him, by Baily, was erected, chiefly by the -members of the medical profession, in St. Paul’s Cathedral, near -the southern entrance. An admirable portrait of him by Sir Thomas -Lawrence exists. Sir Astley’s name is commemorated by the triennial -prize essay of three hundred pounds for the best original prize essay -on a professional subject, to be adjudicated by the physicians and -surgeons of Guy’s, who may not themselves compete. - -A criticism on Sir Astley during his life accorded to him a great -share in establishing pure induction as the only sure means of just -diagnosis, and in introducing a simplicity of treatment in accordance -with the processes of nature. Before his time, operations were too -often frightful alternatives or hazardous compromises; he always made -them follow, as it were, in the natural course of treatment; and he -succeeded in a great degree in divesting them of their terrors by -performing them unostentatiously, confidently, and cheerfully. He -stated an opinion and fact to the Committee on Medical Education, -which might well have been borne in mind by some examiners since his -day: “Whenever a man is too old to study, he is too old to be an -examiner; and if I laid my head upon my pillow at night, without -having dissected something in the day, I should think I had lost -that day.” Sir Astley left among his private papers an estimate of -himself, written in the third person, which is worth quoting. “Sir -Astley Cooper was a good anatomist, but never was a good operator -where delicacy was required. He felt too much before he began ever to -make a perfect operator.... Quickness of perception was his forte, -for he saw the nature of disease in an instant, and often gave -offence by pouncing at once upon his opinion. The same faculty made -his prognosis good. He was a good anatomist of morbid, as well as of -natural structure. He had an excellent and useful memory. In judgment -he was very inferior to Mr. Cline in all the affairs of life.... His -imagination was vivid, and always _ready_ to run away with him if he -did not control it.” - -“His principle in practice was, never to suffer any who consulted him -to quit him without giving them satisfaction on the nature and proper -treatment of their case.” - -Finally, he says, what is a fitting close to this narrative of his -career, “My own success depended upon my zeal and industry; but for -this I take no credit, as it was given to me from above.” - - * * * * * - -Another pupil of John Hunter, a man of very different mould, in -several respects more akin to the master than Sir Astley, now claims -our attention. Unlike many of the great men whose achievements we -have recorded, JOHN ABERNETHY was born in London, in the parish -of St. Stephen’s, Coleman Street, on the 3d of April 1764. He was -the second son of John Abernethy, merchant, descended from an -Irish-Scotch family which had furnished more than one noted man to -the Protestant dissenting ministry in Ireland. While very young he -was sent to the Wolverhampton Grammar School under Dr. Robertson. -Here he was reputed studious and clever, but was evidently passionate -as well as humorous. The severe discipline common at that time does -not seem to have worked very well with Abernethy, for he came out -of it more excitable and impatient than he had been previously. -School days were over at fourteen, however, and at fifteen the -youth was apprenticed to Mr., afterwards Sir Charles, Blicke, -his father’s neighbour in Mildred’s Court, one of the surgeons -to St. Bartholomew’s Hospital. His own desire was to enter the -legal profession, in which his fine memory would have rendered him -important service; but his father did not agree with this choice, -and the medical profession was selected. His master was an empiric; -but Abernethy early determined to get to the bottom of things as far -as possible, and engaged in investigations on his own account. The -bent of his mind towards treatment by diet is shown by the following -statement. “When I was a boy,” he said, “I half ruined myself in -buying oranges and other things, to ascertain the effects of -different kinds of diet in this disease” (of the kidney). - -Abernethy’s interest in anatomy and surgery was first effectively -stimulated by Sir William Blizard, who lectured at the London -Hospital, and he warmly acknowledged this in his introductory lecture -at the College of Surgeons in 1814, when he succeeded Sir William -as professor. He was soon selected to dissect for Sir William’s -lectures; he derived much benefit from Pott’s surgical lectures at -St. Bartholomew’s, and from Dr. Marshall’s lectures in Holborn; -but was most powerfully influenced by John Hunter, who noted him -among his most intelligent pupils. The opportunity of becoming an -assistant-surgeon, being reserved to apprentices of the surgeons -to St. Bartholomew’s, came early to Abernethy, for his master’s -promotion to the surgeoncy led to his election as assistant-surgeon -in July 15, 1787, when only twenty-three years old, by a majority of -fifty-three to twenty-nine votes. But he was under the necessity, -owing to his senior’s remaining so long in office, of continuing as -assistant-surgeon for the long period of twenty-eight years. - -The young surgeon soon began to put his original powers in evidence -by starting as a lecturer. Mr. Pott had for years given a course of -lectures on surgery, but no other lectures had been delivered, and -the medical school of St. Bartholomew’s must be regarded as owing its -establishment to Abernethy. To be the life and soul of a new school -is enough for any man in his maturest years; it was more than enough -for Abernethy, beginning at twenty-three, when everything was new, -and precedents were few, and when his own faculties and studies still -lacked much. To this we must largely attribute the worn-out look -which began to settle upon his face from the age of fifty. He was -not content in his lecturing with any dry and orderly narration, but -combined with his descriptive account the purposes of a structure, -the diseases and accidents to which it is liable, and illustrations -from comparative anatomy. He for a long time included in his courses -at once anatomy, physiology, pathology, and surgery; at the same time -he kept up his attendance on John Hunter’s lectures, and diligently -studied in the wards of the hospital. His industry at this period -was such that he rose at four, and sometimes went into the country -that he might read with less interruption. It may seem strange, in -connection with the well-known brusqueness of his manner, to read -that he had an unconquerable shyness in his early years of lecturing, -which often made him retire from the theatre to regain his composure -before being able to commence his lecture. But this shyness is often -a concomitant of real talent and originality before it has found -means to display itself effectively; and brusqueness is in not a few -instances the cloak of timidity. When his dramatic instincts had -led him into his true path, he soon gained in ease, and his classes -increased so rapidly that in 1790 the governors of St. Bartholomew’s -resolved to build him a theatre, which was opened in October 1791. - -Abernethy’s style in lecturing is described by those who heard him -as unique both in communicating his ideas and in interesting his -pupils. When his style had fully developed, it was spoken of as -“Abernethy at Home.” His mode of entering the lecture-room, says -Pettigrew, was often irresistibly droll; his hands buried deep in -his breeches-pockets, his body bent slouchingly forward, blowing or -whistling, his eyes twinkling beneath their arches, and his lower jaw -thrown considerably beneath the upper. Then he would cast himself -into a chair, swing one of his legs over an arm of it, and commence -his lecture in the most _outré_ manner. The abruptness, however, -never failed to command silence, and rivet attention. - -“‘The count was wounded in the arm—the bullet had sunk deep into -the flesh—it was, however, extracted—and he is now in a fair way of -recovery.’ That will do very well for a novel, but it won’t do for -us, gentlemen: for ‘Sir Ralph Abercromby received a ball in the thick -part of his thigh, and it buried itself deep, deep: and it got among -important parts, and it couldn’t be felt; but the surgeons, nothing -daunted, groped, and groped, and groped,—and Sir Ralph died.’” -Thus he would introduce an admirable discourse on gunshot wounds, -reprobating in the strongest language the perilous and painful -practice of making prolonged searches for bullets in important -organs. He always illustrated his subject by telling anecdotes, -frequently of a side-splitting character, and so compelled his pupils -to remember his doctrines. - -His mental abstraction was not unfrequently manifested strikingly in -the lecture-theatre. On one occasion it is related of him that at an -introductory lecture at St. Bartholomew’s, when he had been received, -as usual, with great applause, he appeared utterly indifferent to it, -but quietly casting his eyes over the assemblage, burst forth in a -tone of deep feeling, “God help you all! what is to become of you!” - -His dramatic power was much employed in imitating his patients’ -peculiarities, with a mixture of the serious and the humorous which -was most effective. Many of his stories were most apt in their -bearing on some important fact or principle. One of these we may be -allowed to quote from Macilwain.[18] - -“Ah, there is no saying too much on the importance of recollecting -the course of large arteries; but I will tell you a case. There was -an officer in the navy, and as brave a fellow as ever stepped, who -in a sea-fight received a severe wound in the shoulder, which opened -his axillary artery. He lost a large quantity of blood, but the wound -was staunched for the moment, and he was taken below. As he was an -officer, the surgeon, who saw he was wounded severely, was about -to attend to him, before a seaman who had been just brought down. -But the officer, though evidently in great pain said: ‘Attend to -that man, sir, if you please, I can wait.’ Well, his turn came; the -surgeon made up his mind that a large artery had been wounded; but -as there was no bleeding, dressed the wound, and went on with his -business. The officer lay very faint and exhausted for some time, -and at length began to rally again, when the bleeding returned; the -surgeon was immediately called, and not knowing where to find the -artery, or what else to do, told the officer he must amputate his arm -at the shoulder-joint. The officer at once calmly submitted to the -additional but unnecessary suffering; and as the operator proceeded, -asked if it would be long; the surgeon replied that it would be soon -over; the officer rejoined: ‘Sir, I thank God for it!’ but he never -spake more.” - -Amidst death-like stillness, Abernethy quietly concluded: “I hope you -will never forget the course of the axillary artery.” - -It has been, we believe, a somewhat general impression, that -Abernethy as a lecturer indulged in tricks or extraordinary -gesticulations. But this is by no means correct. There was a method -in every item of his procedure, and all he aimed at was to impress -upon the students’ minds in the most forcible and abiding way the -ideas he wished to convey. He gained, it is said, the appearance -of perfect ease without the slightest presumption; and had no -offensive tricks. Macilwain, who was his pupil at his best period, -says: “The expression of his countenance was in the highest degree -clear, penetrative, and intellectual; and his long but not neglected -powdered hair, which covered both ears, gave altogether a philosophic -calmness to his whole expression that was peculiarly pleasing. Then -came a sort of little smile, which mantled over the whole face, -and lighted it up with something which we cannot define, but which -seemed a compound of mirth, archness, and benevolence.... There was a -sort of running metaphor in his language, which, aided by a certain -quaintness of manner, made common things go very amusingly. Muscles -which pursued the same course to a certain point, were said to travel -sociably together, and then to _part company_. Blood-vessels and -nerves had certain habits in their mode of distribution, contrasted -in this way; arteries were said to _creep_ along the sides of -or between muscles: nerves, on the contrary, were represented -as penetrating their substance _without ceremony_.... He was -particularly happy in a kind of cosiness or friendliness of manner -which seemed to identify him with his audience; as if we were all -about to investigate something interesting _together_, and not as if -we were going to be ‘lectured’ at at all. He spoke as if addressing -each individual, and his discourse, like a happy portrait, always -seemed to be looking you in the face.” - -In consultation or in ordinary practice, Abernethy was only rough and -hasty when something annoyed him. Towards his fellow-practitioners -who could give a reason for their opinions or their treatment, he -was polite and even deferential. He never recommended interference -with judicious plans of cure in order to gain _éclat_ for himself, -nor unless some important end were to be obtained. He was no party -to concealments or deceptions being practised on the friends of -patients, and in many cases told the plainest of plain truths to -patients themselves. “Pray, Mr. Abernethy, what is a cure for gout?” -was the question of an indolent and luxurious citizen. “Live upon -sixpence a day—and earn it,” was the cogent reply. He is reported to -have been consulted by the Duke of York; and to have stood before -him, as usual, whistling, with his hands in his breeches-pockets. The -astonished Duke remonstrated: “I suppose you know who I am.” “Suppose -I do,” replied Abernethy, “what of that?” And he advised the Duke, -in reference to his complaint: “Cut off the supplies, as the Duke -of Wellington did in his campaigns, and the enemy will leave the -citadel.” A barrister came to Mr. Abernethy with a small ulcer on his -leg, which had proved difficult to heal. Having heard much of his -impatience and peculiar manners, he began to pull down his stocking -as soon as he entered his consulting-room. “Holloa! holloa! what the -devil are you at?” exclaimed the surgeon. “I don’t want to see your -leg; that will do, put it up, put it up.” The patient did so, but -marked his displeasure by placing only a shilling upon the table when -he left. “What is this?” asked Abernethy. “Oh,” replied his patient, -“that will do, put it up, put it up,” and coolly retired. - -It is said that Abernethy’s impatience frequently arose from -his anxiety to be at his hospital duties; and that instead of -representing this in a proper manner, he would sometimes almost push -patients from his door. Sir Astley Cooper received many a fee from -those who had quitted Abernethy, or would not venture to encounter -his rudeness. To his hospital patients, especially those who were in -great distress, he was all kindness. Their gratitude was sometimes -amusingly demonstrated. Mr. Stowe relates one example of this: “It -was on his first going through the wards after a visit to Bath, -that, passing up between the rows of beds, with an immense crowd of -pupils after him, myself among the rest—the apparition of a poor -Irishman, with the scantiest shirt I ever saw, jumping out of bed, -and literally throwing himself on his knees at Abernethy’s feet, -presented itself. For some moments everybody was bewildered; but the -poor fellow, with all his country’s eloquence, poured out such a -torrent of thanks, prayers, and blessings, and made such pantomimic -displays of his leg, that we were not long left in doubt. ‘That’s the -leg, yer honnor! Glory be to God! Yer honnor’s the boy to do it! May -the heavens be your bed! Long life to your honnor! To the divole with -the spalpeens that said your honnor would cut it off!’ &c. The man -had come into the hospital about three months before, with diseased -ankle, and it had been at once condemned to amputation. Something, -however, induced Abernethy to try what rest and constitutional -treatment would do for it, and with the happiest result. With some -difficulty the patient was got into bed, and Abernethy took the -opportunity of giving us a clinical lecture about diseases and their -constitutional treatment. And now commenced the fun. Every sentence -Abernethy uttered Pat confirmed. ‘Thrue, yer honnor, divole a lie in -it. His honnor’s the grate dochter entirely!’ While at the slightest -allusion to his case, off went the bed-clothes, and up went the -leg, as if he were taking aim at the ceiling with it. ‘That’s it, -by gorra! and a bitther leg than the villin’s that wanted to cut it -off!’ This was soon after I went to London, and I was much struck -with Abernethy’s manner in the midst of the laughter. Stooping down -to the patient, he said with much earnestness: ‘I am glad your leg is -doing well; but never kneel, except to your Maker.’” - -Many are the stories in which Abernethy’s name appears; many have -been exaggerated; many are falsely connected with his name. Sometimes -he would, instead of crushing a victim, become sufficiently the -victim himself. A lady once said to him: “I had heard of your -rudeness before, but I did not expect this.” When he handed her his -prescription, she asked: “What am I to do with this?” The rough reply -was, “Anything you like. Put it in the fire if you please.” The lady -took him at his word, laid down her fee, threw the prescription -into the fire, and left the room; nor could Abernethy persuade her -to receive her fee again, or a fresh prescription. Notwithstanding -all stories to his disadvantage, there is no doubt that Abernethy’s -intentions were most kind, and that he never took a fee from a -patient who might possibly be unable to afford it comfortably. For -these two reasons, his not unfrequent roughness, and his leniency -about fees, he certainly had a much smaller income than he might have -secured. Yet his income was very considerable, but not carefully -managed. One day calling to pay his wine merchant for a pipe of wine, -he threw down a handful of notes, and pieces of paper with fees. On -being asked to wait till all were accurately counted, as some of the -fees might be more than he thought. “Never mind,” said he, “I can’t -stop; you have them as I took them,” and hurried away. - -It is now time to refer to some of Abernethy’s principal -publications. In 1793 he published his first volume of Surgical -and Physiological Essays, including his celebrated essay on lumbar -abscess, in which he details a simple and beautiful method of cure -which has since been largely followed. In the second volume of these -essays, a paper on the functions of the skin details some careful -experiments upon the air in which the hand or foot had been confined -for some time. He detected some carbonic acid in such air, and -founded upon the experiments important views as to the necessity of -keeping the skin cleansed and in healthy action. The third part of -these essays, published in 1797, contained an important paper on -injuries of the head, deprecating among other things all unnecessary -interference, and so preventing many a fruitless operation. In 1806 -appeared Abernethy’s Surgical Observations, including an account of -the disorders of health in general, and of the digestive organs in -particular, which accompany local diseases, and obstruct their cure. -Whenever he wished to impress upon a patient or a practitioner the -importance of attending to the general health, and the stomach in -particular, if some local disease was to be cured, he always referred -to his book, so that his phrase “read my book” was expected as a -certainty. But it appeared sometimes as if he perceived disorder -of the digestive organs in every case. A lady who had an affection -outside the knee-joint occasioned by a blow against the edge of a -step, went to Mr. Abernethy, and was about to show the affected part, -when he rudely exclaimed, “I don’t want to see your knee, ma’am! -allow me,” and pressed his fist with force against her stomach. She -of course cried out, and he of course attributed her disorder to her -stomach. Nevertheless she recovered without medicine, by strictly -local treatment of the knee, under Dr. Pettigrew. - -In all Abernethy’s writings there was manifested a lack of good -arrangement which contrasts strikingly with his excellence as a -lecturer: but in the latter capacity his audience was always before -him, and he could see and test the suitability of his matter. -Education had not furnished him with real literary training, and his -aptness of expression and his wit do not appear to striking advantage -in his written works. - -Abernethy was married on the 9th January 1800 to Miss Anne Threlfall, -whom he had met at a house to which he had been professionally called -in. His courtship was brief; his proposals were made by letter; he -characteristically deprecated too much “dangling,” gave the lady a -fortnight to consider her reply; and was successful. Not for one day -did he interrupt his hospital lectures. - -In 1815, after twenty-eight years’ tenure of the office of -assistant-surgeon, Abernethy became full surgeon on the retirement -of his old master, Sir Charles Blicke. He made the appointment -the occasion for publishing a pamphlet on the evils attending the -prolonged tenure of office by old surgeons. He himself had lectured -for twenty-eight years, and been largely influential in filling the -hospital with students, from whose hospital fees he received nothing -whatever. About the time of his succession to the surgeoncy he took a -house at Enfield, to which he resorted on Saturdays, gladly quitting -his own house in Bedford Row for a quiet country ride. In the summer -he would retire to Enfield on most evenings. This tended very much to -the benefit of his fidgety nervous system. From early life his heart -had been particularly irritable, causing him frequent suffering. A -wound which he accidentally gave himself in dissecting at one time -caused him such a severe illness that it was three years before he -had recovered from its effects, which appeared in very varied forms. -It must be acknowledged, too, that he was not as moderate in eating -as he exhorted his patients to be. He frequently was attacked by -inflammatory sore-throat, terminating in abscess. - -Abernethy resigned his professorship at the College of Surgeons in -1817, and was gratified by a resolution sent to him, thanking him -for the distinguished energy and perspicuity which had characterised -his lectures. This resignation, however, was not sufficient relief -to his overstrained system, which was now often tormented with -rheumatism. He took insufficient care of himself, would walk down -from Bedford Row to the hospital in knee-breeches and silk stockings -when it was raining, without a thought of protecting himself from -a drenching. With very cold feet he would stand opposite one of -the flue openings in the museum, and this with other imprudences -gradually sapped his strength. At the age of sixty, according to -the plan he had suggested and strongly advocated, he resigned his -appointment as surgeon, but the governors would not accept it. He was -persuaded to remain in office some time longer, but finally resigned -on July 24, 1827. The succeeding winter was the last in which he -lectured, and in 1829 he gave up his examinership at the College of -Surgeons. He had now become very lame, thin and old-looking. His eye -retained its expressiveness, but showed evidences of the continual -pain he suffered. He died on the 20th April 1831, quite worn out, but -conscious to the last: he was buried in the parish church of Enfield. -Thus early, like John Hunter, died one of his pupils, who, in the -words of the Duke of Sussex at the anniversary meeting of the Royal -Society in 1831, appears the most completely to have caught the bold -and philosophical spirit of his great master. - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[17] Life of Sir Astley Cooper, i. 334-448. - -[18] Memoirs of John Abernethy. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -_SIR CHARLES BELL AND THE FUNCTIONS OF THE NERVOUS SYSTEM._ - - -It will have been gathered that scientific medicine and surgery were -as yet scarcely in a condition to begin. After the discovery of the -circulation of the blood physiological research seemed to halt, -waiting on anatomy. It now took an immense and decided leap forward. - -CHARLES BELL was descended from a family long settled in Glasgow; but -his grandfather becoming a minister of the Scotch Church, settled in -Gladsmuir, Haddingtonshire, and died young; and his father, William -Bell, born 1704, was a minister of the Scottish Episcopal Church -in Edinburgh. Here he suffered from all the persecution inflicted -on Episcopalians in Scotland after the Young Pretender’s rising in -1745. Episcopal ministers were forbidden to officiate to more than -four besides the family; and later, an Act was passed to forbid any -one in holy orders to officiate in a house of which he was not the -master. William Bell’s first wife dying in 1750, leaving no surviving -children, he married in 1757 Margaret Morice, grand-daughter of -Bishop White, who became the mother of Robert Bell, author of the -Scotch Law Dictionary; John Bell, the celebrated surgeon; George -Joseph Bell, Professor of the Law of Scotland in the University of -Edinburgh, and author of the Commentaries on the Law of Scotland; and -Sir Charles Bell. The father of these four eminent sons died in 1779, -when Charles was but five years old. - -The straitened circumstances in which the family were left at -the father’s death resulted in knitting them closely together in -their common struggle. The affection which existed through life -between George Joseph Bell and Charles, four years younger, is one -of the most delightful on record. Much of the brothers’ education -was the result of their own efforts. George relates that although -his schooling cost but five shillings a quarter, it had to be -discontinued when he was eleven years old. Mrs. Bell aided her -children with French and drawing, and had a considerable share in -bringing forth that talent for drawing which afterwards was of such -advantage both to John and Charles. - -Although Charles was some time at the High School at Edinburgh, he -most emphatically declares that he received no education but from his -mother, and the example set him by his brothers, all of whom showed -a true independence and self-reliance. He says: “For twenty years of -my life I had but one wish—to gratify my mother and to do something -to alleviate what I saw her suffer.” When she died, the blank and -indifference produced in his whole nature were so great, that all -ambition seemed to die out of him for a long time. - -His brothers made a plaything of him in childhood, but yet appeared -confident of his future. They were wont to say: “Oh, never mind, -Charlie will do very well. No fear for Charlie.” Yet in after life -he greatly regretted that his early education was limited, and he -took very great pains to improve what was deficient. Even within the -last few years of his life he engaged French and Italian masters to -read with him, although he could read both languages before he left -Edinburgh. - -Taking up the study of medicine under the guidance and tuition -of his elder brother John, who was already becoming notable as a -lecturer, he very rapidly found his true vocation, and gained such -proficiency that before he was twenty-one he was able to take part -of his brother’s lectures. In 1799 he published the first part of -his “System of Dissections.” Edinburgh, then embittered by the -controversy between his brother and Dr. Gregory, and other untoward -occurrences, did not give him fair scope for his talents; and it -was decided that Charles should adventure himself in London. This -was an enterprise of hardihood at that time, for Scotchmen were -still looked upon with suspicion; yet he had already become known -in London by his association with John Bell in the “Human Anatomy,” -by the first two volumes of his “System of Dissections,” and by his -engravings of the arteries, brain, and nerves. The impression made -upon him by his first experience of London, on a Sunday in November, -was thus expressed: “If this be the season that John Bull selects -for cutting his throat, Sunday must be the day, for then London is -in all its ugliness, all its naked deformity; the houses are like -ruins, the streets deserted.” He was soon rather unceremoniously -told by a hospital surgeon that they could manufacture their own raw -material, and if he had difficulties in Edinburgh, he would have more -in London. Some of his early friends in London were cautioned that he -was a sharp insinuating young man, who would drive them out of their -hospitals. His friend Lynn answered such an innuendo thus: “I liked -his brother, and I like himself. He is no humbug. His conversation -is open and free.” Lynn indeed discerned that a worthy successor of -William Hunter was among them. - -Charles Bell gained considerable notice by his criticisms on artistic -anatomy, and by the profound knowledge of the human body which he -made evident. The manuscript of his “Anatomy of Expression” being in -a forward state, it was shown to many persons of influence, including -Sir Joseph Banks (President of the Royal Society), Benjamin West, -Sydney Smith, &c., and the general opinion was that he would make a -great name. But Charles did not deceive himself into the idea that -his path into situations of importance would be easy. “I can make a -few good friends,” he says, “but cannot engage the multitude.” - -After many discouragements, having at one time resolved to return -to Edinburgh, Mr. Bell took a house, formerly Speaker Onslow’s, in -Leicester Street, Leicester Square, and fitted up a lecture-room in -it. Here he started as a public lecturer on anatomy and surgery, with -an attendance of forty, but only three paying pupils, on January 20, -1806; and the second lecture was delivered to an audience of ten. In -February he lectured to a dozen artists, much to their delight. On -the 10th February 1806, after nearly fifteen months in London, he -received his first fee in consultation. - -Many years afterwards, looking back upon this period of severe -struggle, he wrote: “When I consider the few introductions I then -had—to men who could be of no assistance to me—I look back with a -renewal of the despair I then felt.... These days of unhappiness and -suffering tended greatly to fortify me, so that nothing afterwards -could come amiss, nothing but death could bring me to a condition -of suffering such as I then endured.... I could not help regretting -the noble fields that were everywhere around me for exertion in my -profession, and which I found closed against me.” Meanwhile youthful -acquaintances in Edinburgh, Horner and Brougham, were getting places -in the ministry. - -This year his “Anatomy of Expression” was published, and was at -once received with high favour, many painters adopting it as their -text-book. Flaxman declared he considered Mr. Bell had done more for -the arts than any one of that age. Fuseli called it truly valuable. - -Charles Bell had more than an ordinary measure of liveliness, -good-humour, and geniality. One day he writes: “A band of Pandæans -are playing before my window. They make me frisk it. Last night I had -a little supper here, with some good flute-playing. It was intended -to make Horner know Wilkie, the Scotch Teniers.” All through life he -retained this sensibility to lively music. The sound of a familiar -Scotch air would start him whistling, and laying aside work, he would -take his wife by the hand, and make her dance with him through room -after room. - -By the autumn of 1807, his note as a surgeon had grown, and -patients became numerous. His lectures on surgery, too, became -an unqualified success, though the number of paying pupils was -small. In 1808, however, he had thirty-six pupils. His studies for -his lectures were most faithfully and zealously prosecuted. His -lectures were most original: his discoveries were given step by -step to his class-pupils. The first record of his results in regard -to the nervous system is in a letter of 26th November 1807, when -he writes: “I have done a more interesting _nova anatomia cerebri -humani_ than it is possible to conceive.” This developed gradually -into an introduction to the Nervous System, which was shown to many -in manuscript. Meanwhile the Professorship of Anatomy at the Royal -Academy was about to become vacant, and Mr. Bell’s candidature was -warmly advocated by many of the most eminent surgeons and artists. -Abernethy desisted from the idea of candidature in his favour. Wilson -was dissuaded from competing. Sir Astley Cooper wrote a letter -stating that he beyond all comparison merited the post, and would -be an invaluable acquisition to the Royal Academy. But in the end, -Mr., afterward Sir Anthony, Carlisle was elected, and lectured to but -four pupils in his first course. It is to be remembered that even -at hospitals, lectures were by no means common things at this time. -Several of the most eminent hospital surgeons did not lecture at all, -or only lectured occasionally. So that Bell’s class of thirty-six was -really a first-rate one. - -A mark of his original and painstaking mode of making progress was -seen in the visit he paid to Haslar Hospital, when the wounded -soldiers from Corunna arrived home, in January 1809. The scene was -a most striking and impressive one to his feeling nature. “I have -stooped,” he says, “over hundreds of wretches in the most striking -variety of woe and misery, picking out the wounded. Each day as I -awake, still I see the long line of sick and lame slowly moving -from the beach: it seems to have no end. There is something in the -interrupted and very slow motion of these distant objects singularly -affecting.” From the cases he saw he gained much; and laid the -foundation of his essay on Gunshot Wounds, appended to the second -edition of his “Operative Surgery.” - -In 1810 Charles Bell became engaged to his future wife, Marion Shaw, -whose sister Barbara had for some years been married to his brother -George. Their brothers, John and Alexander, became Charles Bell’s -pupils and assistants. In writing to Miss Shaw at one time Mr. Bell -revealed to her much of the sadness and melancholy of his first years -in London, oppressed by the consciousness of not occupying a position -corresponding to his talents, and finding everywhere difficulties. -“Many and many a time in the prosecution of my plans of life have I -wished that I were with the armies, to rid myself of the load of life -without discredit.” He was married on the 3d of June, 1811. - -The next year was another important landmark in Charles Bell’s -life. He accepted an offer of partnership with Mr. Wilson in the -Great Windmill Street School of Medicine. His own preparations and -drawings, &c., were added to the museum already there, and his joy at -seeing the two united was great and unmixed. His first lecture in the -school was to a class of 80 to 100 pupils. He was at the height of -his ambition in being connected with the celebrated Windmill Street -School. Mr., afterwards Sir Benjamin, Brodie, Dr. Roget, and Dr. -Brande were among his associates in lecturing. His new house (34 Soho -Square) had as many resident pupils as he could accommodate; and he -was not yet forty years old. - -In 1813 he was admitted into the Royal College of Surgeons. A formal -examination being necessary, he records with amusement that the -facetious dogs asked him of what disease he thought Buonaparte -would die. In 1814 he was elected by a large majority surgeon to -Middlesex Hospital, and immediately began to make great use of -his new opportunities. His operations and clinical lectures soon -became attended by large numbers of students, and even eminent -practitioners. A Russian General, Baron Driesen, having a ball in his -thigh, was placed under his care, and especially commended to him -by the Czar Alexander. A fee of £200 and two silver cups were his -reward, as well as great personal regard from both the General and -his aide-de-camp. - -When the stirring news of Waterloo arrived in London, the same -spirit which had animated him after Corunna, impelled Mr. Bell -to start off, accompanied by John Shaw, to render assistance to -the wounded. The amount of work was appalling. Nothing was ready, -to cope with the mass of misery suddenly accumulated. Mr. Bell, -finding after an inspection of the situation that he could do most -by taking in hand the needful operations upon the French wounded, -commenced his operations at six one morning and continued incessantly -operating till seven in the evening, and so on for three consecutive -days. While he amputated one man’s thigh, there lay at one time -thirteen others waiting, all begging to be taken next. “It was a -strange thing,” he says, “to feel my clothes stiff with blood, and -my arms powerless with the exertion of using the knife; and more -extraordinary still, to find my mind calm amidst such variety of -suffering; but to give one of these objects access to your feelings -was to allow yourself to be unmanned for the performance of a duty.” - -It appears strange that a man who in 1807 had commenced what proved -to be such an epoch-making series of discoveries in regard to the -nervous system should have so long allowed them to lack general -publicity. His manuscript was first shown to his brother and other -friends in 1808. But it is to be noted, that when in 1811 he -privately circulated a pamphlet under the title of “An Idea of a New -Anatomy of the Brain,” submitted for the observation of the author’s -friends, they received it with but scant appreciation, and either -failed to regard it as remarkably novel, or considered the views it -put forth incredible. At this period, while the brain was believed -to be the organ of thought, it was also supposed to discharge some -nervous fluid through the spinal cord to the nerves. Little was -accurately known about the functions of the nerves: even John Bell -and Astley Cooper had advised the section of the facial nerve to cure -tic, thus paralysing the muscles of the face instead of relieving the -pain. Microscopy had not yet revealed the multitudinous fibres of -which nerves are composed, and experimental evidence was confined to -comparatively coarse forms. Thus on cutting across the main trunk of -a nerve, both sensation and motion were lost in the parts supplied -by the nerve. Bell first disentangled the functions of sensation -and motion, and found that they were carried on through distinct -nerve fibres. He noticed the distinct properties of the nerves of the -senses, for instance the fact that a prick of the optic nerve in an -operation caused a flash of light to be perceived, not a sensation of -pain: when the pricking of certain papillæ of the tongue gave rise -to a sensation of taste, not of pain, and when a blow upon the ear -occasioned the hearing of noises. Thus he acquired the conception -that in the brain the powers of the nerves were distinct and -peculiar, and due to the portion of the brain from which they started. - -Seeing that in the vast number of the nerves of the body the -functions of sensation and motion were evidently combined, Bell -imagined that these nerves consisted of different portions tied -together, and he sought for a method of determining how they were -combined. The separate portions in which the spinal nerves enter the -spinal cord, forming two roots, anterior and posterior, occurred -to him as furnishing a possibility of experimental inquiry. He -now resolved to make crucial experiments on living animals, which -should settle the question by a well-devised plan of procedure. -No man was more averse to giving unnecessary pain than Charles -Bell; no man felt more keenly the sufferings of his patients. The -first brief record of the results is as follows: “Experiment 1. I -opened the spine and pricked and injured the posterior filaments of -the nerves—no motion of the muscles followed. I then touched the -anterior division—immediately the parts were convulsed. Experiment 2. -I now destroyed the posterior part of the spinal marrow by the point -of a needle—no convulsive movement followed. I injured the anterior -part, and the animal was convulsed.” It was at once inferred that the -anterior root of the spinal nerves was motor in its functions, the -posterior root sensory. - -This simple fact revolutionised the physiology of the whole subject. -We cannot now realise the novelty which there was in attaining this -extent of knowledge of the nervous system, or how valuable this firm -basis was in commencing to unravel the nervous mechanism. We cannot -here detail the experiments and trains of reasoning by which it was -shown that the fifth cranial nerve was similar in its general plan -to the spinal nerves, including distinct sensory and motor portions; -and by which the knowledge of the cranial nerves generally was -widely extended. We note now that Bell’s first paper on the Nervous -System was read before the Royal Society on the 21st July 1821, and -was received with great approbation. It soon became generally known -throughout Great Britain and on the Continent, being by almost every -one acknowledged as strikingly original. The dispute which afterwards -arose as to his perfect originality and independence having been -so conclusively settled in Mr. Bell’s favour by the production of -his original pamphlet, manuscript and letters, no account of the -controversy need here be given. He himself fully felt the importance -of his discoveries: “I have made a greater discovery than ever was -made by any one man in anatomy,” he says, not vaingloriously, but as -a simple perception of the fact. - -The application of the new knowledge to the elucidation of many -obscure diseases, where the nervous system was affected, engaged -Charles Bell’s zealous attention. He speedily classified and -arranged cases illustrative of the action of the motor and sensory -nerves, cases where the muscles of the face were paralysed, as well -as various kinds of paralysis throughout the body. Instances of -partial or local pain were explained in their relation to the nerves -concerned; disorders of the eye, tongue, muscles of respiration, &c., -all received new illumination from his researches. - -A further discovery was that of the muscular sense, by which we -perceive many of the qualities of objects surrounding us, and which -even enables us to stand upright. The sensation of the degree of -muscular effort put forth in every action, in every resistance, -to a large extent builds up our judgments about external objects, -and determines our actions; and the recognition of the fact that -we perceive this by a sense distinct from touch is due to Bell. -The study of the eye entered very largely into this question, as -the muscular movements of the eye are of such extreme import in -our perceptions. In 1818 he wrote: “I think I have made out that -squinting depends on the over-action of one of the oblique muscles, -and that it may be cured by an operation. I am looking out for a -patient to try this upon.” But for want of a squinting monkey to -make the first trial upon, the thought was not carried to practical -results, and it remained for others to mature the operation for the -cure of squinting. - -As a specimen of Bell’s style in popular writing, to which he devoted -great pains, we quote from his Bridgewater Treatise on “The Hand” -a passage dealing with the movements of the eye. “On coming into a -room, we see the whole side of it at once—the mirror, the pictures, -the cornice, the chairs; but we are deceived: being unconscious -of the motions of the eye, and that each object is rapidly, but -successively, presented to it. It is easy to show that if the eye -were steady, vision would be quickly lost; that all these objects, -which are distinct and brilliant, are so from the motion of the eye: -that they would disappear if it were otherwise. For example, let -us fix the eye on one point, a thing difficult to do, owing to the -very disposition to motion in the eye: but by repeated attempts we -may at length acquire the power of fixing the eye to a point. When -we have done so, we shall find that the whole scene becomes more -and more obscure, and finally vanishes. Let us fix the eye on the -corner of the frame of the principal picture in the room. At first, -everything around it is distinct; in a very little time, however, the -impression becomes weaker, objects appear dim, and then the eye has -an almost incontrollable desire to wander; if this be resisted, the -impressions of the figures in the picture first fade: for a time, we -see the gilded frame; but this also becomes dim. When we have thus -far ascertained the fact, if we change the direction of the eye but -ever so little, at once the whole scene will be again perfect before -us. These phenomena are consequent upon the retina being subject to -exhaustion.” - -Considering the warmth with which the originality of Charles Bell’s -views was contested, it is indeed striking to notice how early he -composed himself to answer only by silence. “This must be,” he says, -“the mode in which my opinions shall come to be acknowledged: without -some agitation and controversy they would never be propagated. I am -satisfied I have a secure ground.” - -In 1821 Wilson died, and Bell’s assumption of the chief -responsibility for the Windmill Street School, with heavy pecuniary -liabilities, followed. In 1824 he was appointed to the Professorship -of Anatomy and Surgery at the Royal College of Surgeons. So he set -himself with renewed energy to make his lectures of the utmost -value to practising surgeons. His first lecture was given to an -audience crowded to suffocation. The crowding continued at subsequent -lectures, many being unable to get admission. - -On the 19th July 1827 his beloved brother-in-law and assistant, -John Shaw, died. His suffering from this loss was intense. In his -discoveries, his first great object had always been “to convince -Johnnie.” This faithful brother-in-law was fortunately replaced -by another, Alexander Shaw, afterwards surgeon to the Middlesex -Hospital, notable in after times as a defender of his fame and -expounder of his doctrines. In the same year was matured the project -long incubating, of a new London University (now University College), -in which Charles Bell was to be the head of the Medical School. He -delivered the inaugural lecture, and for some years took an active -part in its organisation. The arrangements, however, which were made -by the governing body were in many respects inconsistent with the -high ideal of teaching which Charles Bell had, and with the freedom -of procedure to which he had been for so many years accustomed at -the Windmill Street School. Consequently in 1830 he finally retired -from the new College, and felt in some respects stranded, for -discovery and teaching were his very life. Practice was to him an -irksome necessity. Thus a time of life in which practical success -might have made him wealthy was characterised by depression and -sadness, principally relieved by a very unusual recreation for a -hard-worked London practitioner, namely, fly-fishing. He was first -attracted to this sport by spending a day at Panshanger with his -bosom friend, John Richardson. The evident delight of his friend in -this occupation, and the freshness and relaxation which it afforded, -convinced him that he had found the thing he wanted to sweep from -his mind the cobwebs of professional life. Lady Bell says, “He was -often on the waterside before sunrise—indeed, before he could see his -flies; and he did enjoy these morning hours. I came down with his -breakfast, bringing books and arrangements for passing the whole day, -even with cloaks and umbrellas, for no weather deterred us. He liked -me to see him land his fish, and waved his hat for me to come.” In -the intervals of angling many of the best parts of his popular works -on the Hand and on Animal Mechanics were written. - -In spite of the feelings of disappointment which oppressed him -severely on some occasions, it must not be imagined that he was -predominantly unhappy. Lord Jeffrey described him as “happy Charlie -Bell;” Lord Cockburn wrote: “If I ever knew a generally and -practically happy man, it was Sir Charles Bell.” Alexander Shaw said -of him: “His mind was a garden of flowers and a forest of hardy -trees. Its exercise in profound thought gave him high enjoyment; -yet he would often avow his pleasure in being still a boy, and he -did love life and nature with the freshness of youth. I therefore -repeat—if ever I knew a happy man, it was Sir Charles Bell.” Yet, -seeing that he was convinced, “that the place of a professor who -_fills his place_ is the most respectable in life,” we may believe -that a painful sense of ungratified desire was largely present if not -continually expressed. In 1835 he writes: “My hands are better for -operation than any I have seen at work; but an operating surgeon’s -life has no equivalent reward in this world... I must be the teacher -and consulting surgeon to be happy.” - -In 1831, in connection with the accession of William IV., the -Guelphic order of knighthood was conferred on several distinguished -men of science, among whom Charles Bell was included. His association -with Herschel and Brewster in this honour was gratifying and -appropriate. A complete school of medicine was now projected in -connection with the Middlesex Hospital, in which he was to take a -prominent part. It had not, however, passed through three complete -months of its history, when the Town Council of Edinburgh elected Sir -Charles[19] to the Chair of Surgery in the University, and the offer -proved attractive enough to induce him to leave London. He had always -cherished the idea of a return to Edinburgh at some future time, and -it appeared to him that there was a possibility of a sphere of more -elevated usefulness there, than he could now hope for in London. -Moreover, his heart was in Scotland, in the streets of Edinburgh—in -the theatre where Monro had lectured to him—in the society of his old -friends Jeffrey, Cockburn, William Clerk, Adam Ferguson, and most of -all his brother George. “London is a place to live in, but not to -die in,” he said. “My comfort has ever been to labour for some great -purpose, and my great object of study has been attained.... There is -but one place where I can hope to fulfil the object of my scientific -labour, and that is Edinburgh; and that is an experiment.” - -Successful as his classes were in Edinburgh, and influential as his -position speedily became, it must be acknowledged that the experiment -was a failure, for it did not give him the satisfaction he had hoped. -Practice in Edinburgh could not possibly yield what London did, -and the emoluments of the University chair did not counterbalance -this. Some coldness, too, was shown him on the part of his -fellow-professors. It was an old case of Scotch undemonstrativeness. -“I have had a German professor to breakfast,” he writes, “who brings -me a volume from Paris—they make me greater than Harvey. I wish to -heaven the folks at home would make something of me. I thought, in -addressing the new-made doctors at the conclusion of the session, -that I had done well; but not one word of approbation from any -professor, nor has one of them in all this time called me in to -consultation, except when forced by the desire of the patient.” -His income, never very considerable in Edinburgh, diminished -considerably. “I put down my carriage with as little feeling as I -throw off my shoes,” he says; but when in 1842 a Government proposal -appeared likely to end in the extinction of the privileges of his -beloved University, his excitement was unbounded. He set off for -London as soon as he could. But he was attacked by a spasm of the -stomach so severe as to threaten his life. He hastened on towards -London, but while at Manchester, assisting at an operation, he -thought he should have been obliged to lie and roll on the carpet, or -leave the room in the midst of it. On Wednesday April 27, 1842, Sir -Charles and Lady Bell reached Hallow Park, the seat of Mrs. Holland, -near Worcester. Looking on the winding Severn and the distant hills, -he said to his wife: “This is a novel spot; here I fain would rest -till they come to take me away.” Here he sketched an old yew-tree, -some sheep, and the river; then two children and a donkey. As he -went back he looked with his observant eye at every shrub, commented -on the birds’ notes, and gathered up their feathers for his flies. -After dinner the same evening he gave graphic sketches of medical -celebrities he had known, admired and discussed an engraving of -Leonardo da Vinci’s Last Supper, and was altogether so happy in mood -that he said to his wife: “Did you ever see me happier or better -than I have been all this forenoon?” yet he had been several times -that day in imminent danger of death from the dread malady that John -Hunter had, angina pectoris. We cannot refrain from quoting the -account of his end (Letters, p. 400): “The evening reading that night -was the 23d Psalm; the last prayer, that beautiful one, ‘For that -peace which the world cannot give,’ and then he sank into a deep and -quiet sleep. In the morning he awoke with a spasm, which he said was -caused by changing his position. His wife was rising to drop his -laudanum for him, but calling her to him, he laid his head on her -shoulder, and there ‘rested.’” - -No more appropriate tribute has been paid to Sir Charles Bell than -that in the _Edinburgh Review_ for April 1872. The writer says (p. -429): “Never passed away a gentler, truer, or finer spirit. His -genius was great, and has left a legacy to mankind which will keep -his name fresh in many generations. But the story of his life has a -more potent moral. It is the story of one who kept his affections -young, and his love of the pure and the refined unsullied, while -fighting bravely the battle of life; whose heart was as tender as his -intellect was vigorous and original who, while he gained a foremost -place among his fellows, turned with undiminished zest to his home -and his friends, and found there the object, the reward, and the -solace of his life.” - -He was buried near the yew-tree he had so lately sketched in Hallow -Churchyard. A plain stone, with his name, dates of birth and death, -and the line, “The pure in heart shall see God,” marked the spot. A -tablet was afterwards placed in the churchyard, with an inscription -written by his lifelong friend Francis (Lord) Jeffrey. Part of it -runs thus: “Sacred to the memory of Sir Charles Bell, who, after -unfolding with unrivalled sagacity, patience, and success, the -wonderful structure of our mortal bodies, esteemed lightly of his -greatest discoveries, except only as they tended to impress himself -and others with a deeper sense of the infinite wisdom and ineffable -goodness of the Almighty Creator.” His letters, edited by his widow -(1870), are a lasting memorial of his beautiful and noble nature. - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[19] In December 1835. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -_MARSHALL HALL, AND THE DISCOVERY OF REFLEX ACTION._ - - -The character of MARSHALL HALL, who divides with Sir Charles Bell the -principal honours of discovery as to the nervous system, presents -a contrast to his in that it displays a mind more minutely active, -and more distinctly medical in its tone, combined with a marvellous -degree of detailed benevolence. Thus Hall’s reputation has, like -Harvey’s and John Hunter’s, grown largely since his death. Marshall -Hall was born at Basford near Nottingham on February 18, 1790, -his father, Robert Hall, having been a cotton manufacturer and -bleacher of ingenuity and originality. He first employed chlorine -as a bleaching agent on a large scale, his earliest attempts having -procured for his establishment the epithet of “Bedlam.” He was of -a very religious turn, too, being one of the early Wesleyans. The -strict but benevolent piety of his father, and the sweet and gentle -disposition of his mother, were favourable to the growth of high -morality, strict conscientiousness, and amiability of character in -their family, while the inventive ability of the father reproduced -itself in his second son, Samuel Hall, a prolific inventor, and no -less in his sixth son, Marshall. It is not often that a typically -good and inoffensive son has turned out so conspicuously original in -his work. But he had a saving fondness for boyish literature such -as Robinson Crusoe, and was full of fun and playfulness. He was -early sent to Nottingham to school with the Rev. J. Blanchard, the -instructor of Kirke White. Here he did not even learn Latin, although -his elder brothers had had classical instruction. French appears to -have been his only linguistic attainment: and the chief fact recorded -of his school-days is his thrashing a tyrannical “big boy” in the -school. But school was over for him at the age of 14, and he was -placed with a chemist at Newark. Soon finding his position irksome, -his friendship with a youth who was preparing for a medical career -led him to long for a similar course, and ultimately his father was -induced to send him to Edinburgh, whither he went in October 1809. -He had already indicated his future eminence by rising very early -to study medicine and chemistry, and giving as his reason: “I am -determined to be a great man.” - -At Edinburgh he quickly distinguished himself by his diligent study -of anatomy; he was recognised as a student of the first rank, and -was chosen senior president of the Royal Medical Society in 1811. -Dr. Bigsby says of him: “Few men have changed during their progress -through life so little as Marshall Hall. As he began, so he ended, -delighting in the labour—the labour itself—of investigation.... All -the stores of knowledge which his predecessors had either gathered -or created, Marshall Hall was eager to acquire; a hardy, enduring -constitution seconding all his efforts.... All his energies were -directed to the formation of the skilful bedside physician, that is, -to the alleviation and cure of disease.” It was said of him, “Hall -never tires.” During his three years’ studentship he never once -missed a lecture. He graduated in June 1812, and was almost at once -appointed resident house physician to the Edinburgh Royal Infirmary. -Here his love of order, his zeal, and spirit of inquiry found full -scope, and he took extreme pains in the study of diagnosis. He gave -a voluntary course of lectures on the principles of diagnosis in -1813, which were the basis of his well-known work, first published in -1817. His usefulness to the younger students in the hospital was very -great, and equally striking was his good example of purity of life -and conversation, and constant cheerfulness. His puremindedness was -characteristic through life; Marshall Hall never attached himself to -any man of coarse mind or manners. - -During his last year at Edinburgh the young physician, attracted -towards London practice, was prudently weighing the cost and risk of -such an enterprise. He decided in favour of a more modest course of -provincial practice, waiting till his book on Diagnosis should be -matured. As in later life, so now he was “strong in hope, inflexible -for truth and justice, but inexperienced in the ways of the world, -and unable to cope with the cunning, or to dissemble with the false.” -After a visit to Paris for some months he proceeded to Göttingen -and on to Berlin to visit the medical schools, walking alone and -on foot from Paris to Göttingen, more than six hundred miles, in -November 1814. After a brief period of practice in Bridgewater -he commenced practice at Nottingham in February 1817, and with -remarkable rapidity attained a leading position. In 1817 his work -on the Diagnosis of Diseases appeared, and at once marked him out -as a man of the highest originality, applying accurate observation -and classification of symptoms to the detection and distinction of -diseases. Of this book the _Lancet_ of August 15, 1857, remarked: -“Comprehensive, lucid, exact, and reliable, this work has, in the -main, stood the test of forty years’ trial. A better has not been -produced.” When Dr. Baillie, nephew of John Hunter and President of -the College of Physicians, first saw Marshall Hall, he complimented -him on being the son of the author of so extraordinary a work as that -on Diagnosis. Being modestly told that he himself was the author, -Baillie exclaimed: “Impossible! it would have done credit to the -greyest-headed philosopher in our profession.” - -In 1818 Hall published a work on the affections usually denominated -Bilious, Nervous, &c., and in 1820 an essay in which the prevalent -custom of bleeding was attacked, especially in certain affections -occurring after childbirth, which under that treatment almost -invariably proved fatal. In 1822 this was followed by a small volume -on the Symptoms and History of Diseases, which was especially -valuable in treating of the detection of internal diseases. In 1824 -appeared his important paper On the Effects of the Loss of Blood in -the “Medico-Chirurgical Transactions,” published also in an expanded -form in his “Medical Essays” in the same year. Before this time the -lancet was in hourly use, and Marshall Hall termed it “a minute -instrument of mighty mischief.” Almost all pain in any complaint, -quickness of pulse, headache, intolerance of light or noise, being -believed to arise from inflammation, blood flowed in torrents to -subdue it. It was by his various papers bearing on this question that -Dr. Hall became prominently known; for the dropping of the lancet -was an evident change of procedure which the public as well as the -profession could lay hold of. In 1825 the young enemy of the lancet -was elected Physician to the Nottingham Hospital by a large majority -of votes, and the best practice of the neighbouring counties was his. -He was unremittingly employed: in his walks and rides almost heedless -of external occurrences, absorbed in contemplation; at home ever busy -in his library or his laboratory, making chemical experiments from -which numerous valuable memoirs arose; never accepting invitations of -pleasure; unwearied in his attentions to the sick poor whom he saw -gratuitously. He economised time by riding, being a good horseman, -riding through the country on pitch-dark nights without accidents. He -treated his horses well and earned their affection. “How is it that -your horses never fall?” a friend inquired. “I never give them time -to fall,” was the reply. The Bible constantly at his side was another -mark of Marshall Hall, and he was ever ready to discourse on the -wisdom and benevolence of God, as shown in the structure of the human -body. - -London continued to attract the popular Nottingham physician. Dr. -Baillie had predicted that if he came to London, he would be the -leading physician in five years; Sir Henry Halford, who succeeded -him as President of the College of Physicians, termed Marshall -Hall, a few years afterwards, “the rising sun of the profession.” -We cannot wonder that a visit to London in August 1826 resulted in -his remaining there. His Nottingham patients, deeply regretting his -removal, continued to consult him by letter; and his first year in -town produced £800, a remarkable instance of quick success. - -In 1828 he published “Commentaries on Diseases of Females,” with -graphic plates depicting conditions of parts such as the tongue, -lips, nails, &c., which he first associated with various disorders -of women. He continued his series of careful papers on subjects -connected with blood-letting. His writings on these two subjects -produced him a considerable portion of his early practice. - -Meantime Marshall Hall married, in 1829, and soon afterwards settled -in Manchester Square, where he lived for twenty years. Desiring to -become a Fellow of the Royal Society, he entered upon a special -research on the circulation of the blood, the results of which he -might communicate to the Society. After carefully inspecting under -the microscope the blood-flow in the transparent parts of frogs, -toads, newts, &c., he arrived at the conclusion that all the blood -changes, and all nutrition and absorption by the material tissues are -effected in the minute or capillary channels between the arteries and -the veins. The paper founded upon this research was read before the -Royal Society in 1831, but was refused a place in the “Philosophical -Transactions;” yet an equally great man, Johannes Müller, the leading -German physiologist, pronounced his paper one of extraordinary -interest. It was separately published in 1832. The Royal Society, -however, did not reject Marshall Hall’s next paper, “On the Inverse -Ratio between Respiration and Irritability in the Animal Kingdom,” -which has been pronounced “one of the most beautiful examples of -widely extended observations, and previously disjointed facts, all -brought together and rendered harmonious by the insight and genius of -a master-mind.”[20] - -From the latter subject the investigator passed to that of -hybernation, his views on which also found acceptance with the -Royal Society. One feature in his experiments on this subject was -an ingenious apparatus for ascertaining the temperature of the bat -without disturbing its winter sleep. By this time Marshall Hall had -quite a little menagerie in his house, of animals whose physiology -he was investigating; mice, hedgehogs, bats, birds, snakes, frogs, -toads, newts, fishes were in turn laid under contribution. Abhorring -cruelty as utterly as a man could, he yet saw the absolute necessity -of discovering in the first instance, by experiments on animals, -truths which were of vital importance both to men and brutes. Mr. -Henry Smith of Torrington Square was his diligent associate in these -inquiries. Dr. Hall said of him: “I never knew a person so accurate -in his information and so devoid of selfishness. His interest in my -researches never flagged. He was true to his appointments as the -clock itself.” - -While the papers refused a place in the “Philosophical Transactions” -were going through the press, to appear as a “Critical and -Experimental Essay on the Circulation of the Blood,” a serious -accident happened to a portion of the manuscript. It was sent from -time to time by stage-coach to Messrs. Seeley, printers, at Thames -Ditton, and on the evening of William IV.’s coronation a packet -containing the only record of a considerable series of experiments -was stolen from the coach. This most serious loss could only be -repaired by a repetition of the experiments, which Dr. Hall at once -set about with most Christian equanimity. - -Early in 1832 Marshall Hall was elected a Fellow of the Royal -Society, and in the same year he published another paper on the -Effects of Loss of Blood, in the “Medico-Chirurgical Transactions.” -The original papers on practical medicine which he produced during -this period are too numerous to be mentioned here. We must hasten to -give an account of Marshall Hall’s great researches on the reflex -functions of the spinal cord. - -It was while he was examining the circulation of the blood in the -newt’s lung that Marshall Hall noted the fact from which his great -discoveries arose. The newt’s head had been cut off; thus its life, -in the ordinary acceptation, was destroyed. The tail was afterwards -separated. “I now touched the external integument with the point of -a needle; it moved with energy, assuming various curvilinear forms! -What was the nature of this phenomenon? I had not touched a muscle; -I had not touched a muscular nerve; I had not touched the spinal -marrow. I had touched a cutaneous nerve. That the influence of this -touch was exerted through the spinal marrow was demonstrated by the -fact that the phenomenon ceased when the spinal marrow was destroyed. -It was obvious that the same influence was reflected along the -muscular nerve to the muscles, for the phenomenon again ceased when -these nerves were divided. And thus we had the most perfect evidence -of a reflex, or diastaltic, or diacentric action.” - -The importance of this discovery may be gathered from the fact, that -but few considerable advances in the physiology of the nervous -system had hitherto been made, the most important being that of -Sir Charles Bell, proving that there were separate nerve fibres of -motion and of sensation, and that they entered different portions -of the spinal cord and brain. Dr. Andrew Whytt of Edinburgh had -published in 1751 a work in which he detailed the movements which a -frog’s trunk was able to execute after its head had been cut off, -and had naturally referred these movements to the spinal cord; but -the import of such actions was not understood, nor the mechanism -by which they were executed. Somehow these observations led to -no new principles. But the truly original mind of Marshall Hall -travelled beyond the first facts to trace the process, and he at -last comprehended the nature of such acts as the involuntary closure -of the eyelids, independent of will, for the purpose of preventing -the admission of injurious matter, or of protecting the eye against -injury. The processes of swallowing, choking, vomiting, coughing -were now for the first time explained. Further, in pursuance of -Marshall Hall’s practicality of object, many cases of injury to the -nervous system became more or less intelligible. In paralysis of the -brain, where the medulla oblongata and spinal cord were uninjured, -it was understood how the animal functions could be maintained, -and how in cases where the patient was unable by any exercise of -the will to clench his hand, yet the stimulus of a rough stick -on the sensory nerves of the palm of the hand was sufficient to -bring about a forcible grasp, this being a simple reflex act in -which the spinal cord was concerned. The first breath of a new-born -infant, the spasmodic closure of the larynx in convulsions, fits of -spasmodic asthma, &c., were seen to be reflex in their nature; and -in many disorders which had hitherto baffled curative efforts, they -became possible, because the first great step had been taken, the -understanding of the phenomena. - -These discoveries proved so far-reaching in their bearing that -their establishment and following out were the work of years of -almost constant toil. It is estimated that from the period of -his first experiments to the close of his life no fewer than -thirty-five thousand hours were occupied by Dr. Hall in work strictly -connected with the subject. The discovery was first made known to -the Zoological Society on November 27, 1832: a fuller and further -account was given to the Royal Society in 1833, and published in the -Transactions. It was immediately translated into German and inserted -in Müller’s Archiv. Yet most of the leading authorities in England, -with the fatality which attends discoveries in proportion to their -greatness, made Marshall Hall the object of obloquy, and denounced -him as the propagator of absurd and idle theories. In 1837 a second -memoir was read before the Royal Society, but was rejected from its -Transactions; and in a most unscientific spirit, Dr. Hall’s offer to -show his experiments before a committee was not acceded to. Even -his proposal to withdraw from practice for five years, in order -to study the subject without interruption, secured him no better -reception. Moreover, the medical press, with the exception of the -_Lancet_ and a very few others, denounced Marshall Hall virulently. -In one number of a quarterly journal no fewer than four articles -attacked the discovery, one denying its originality while allowing -it to be true, another denouncing Dr. Hall’s views as new but not -true. The long persistence of this opposition was almost incredible; -for years one journal kept it up through every number; each step was -disputed, and what was indisputable was depreciated. “Ancient works -were disinterred in the vain hope of robbing him of his originality. -‘Complete anticipations’ were exultingly announced. On the one hand, -he was accused of stealing his ideas from old writers; on the other, -contemporaries started up and claimed the discovery as theirs; while -some combated its truth, and never ceased cavilling.” - -While the Royal Society refused him any honours, and in 1847, ten -years after the last paper, rejected another which he sent in, -detailing an experimental research on the relation of galvanism -to the nervous and muscular tissues, Marshall Hall never ceased -his investigations. He did not, however, like some few men of -originality, disdain to reply to attacks. He was even anxious to -refute any and every mis-statement made about him and his work, -his view being: “It would not be truthful in me; and why should -I fear to declare the truth?” “I appeal from the first half of -the nineteenth century to the second.” “I am as certain of the -truth of what I have advanced, as I am of my own existence.” But -while his opponents denounced him as irritable and thin-skinned, -it is testified of him that his temper was never affected; neither -petulance nor gloom clouded his life; he never wrote an anonymous -unfavourable review. “Nothing delighted his benevolent heart,” says -his widow, “more than to praise others, when he could conscientiously -do so; and never can I forget the sparkle of his eye and his pleasant -smile when he had written something in favour of any professional -brother.” - -Practice now flowed in upon Dr. Hall. His researches gave him an -insight into diseases and disorders of the nervous system which -no one had as yet approached. Large numbers of patients came to -consult him personally, or sent for him without the intervention -of a general practitioner. Dr. Russell Reynolds says that his “New -Memoir on the Nervous System,” 1843, described with remarkable -ingenuity the mechanism of the convulsive paroxysm, and of many -other affections assuming a paroxysmal type. “To Dr. Marshall Hall -is due the merit of having rescued the obscure class of convulsive -affections from a region of utter unintelligibility. The action of -strychnia as a spinal excitant, or, in small doses, as a spinal -tonic; the direction—general, regiminal, and medical—of the epileptic -patient, in order to avoid all the excitants of convulsive action; -the recommendation of tracheotomy in laryngismal epilepsy; and the -simple but beautiful ‘Ready Method in Asphyxia,’ were among the later -efforts of Dr. Hall’s great genius.... The two prominent features of -his treatment were simplicity and perseverance. We have seen numerous -cases in which his administration of simple aperients, together with -strictly regiminal measures, had wrought extraordinary cures; and we -know of previously paraplegic men, now well, who under his direction -took strychnia for much longer than a year; and of so-called -epileptics who slowly recovered from the most frightful combination -of symptoms, while kept by Dr. Hall for sixteen or eighteen months -under the influence of mercury.” Even under the heaviest strain of -practice he found time to continue his researches, and to publish his -experience. In 1845 and 1846 appeared two small volumes of “Practical -Observations and Suggestions in Medicine,” in which a great number of -medical subjects were treated in so concise and telling a way that -they were immediately welcomed by a large class of readers. A chapter -on the use of the Alcoholic Lotion in Phthisis Pulmonalis is said -to have been the means of saving many lives; another on “the Temper -Disease” is most interesting to the student of human nature as well -as of medicine. - -A friend, Mr. Henry Gregory, of Herne Hill, who had much professional -and friendly intercourse with Dr. Hall, says of him: “In debate or -conversational argument nothing seemed to escape his penetration. -His minuteness in bringing out little things which others thought -not of, was remarkable; with one little atom, so to speak, a light -would shine forth from him so brilliantly that I could only sit -and admire his remarkable mental gifts. He was a great man and a -genius, and, like all the truly great, made no parade.... He was the -educator of the intellect; his domain was pure scientific research. -The earnest activity of his mind made him proceed, and every -advance he made was a clearing away of error and an establishment -of truth.... In emergencies he was both prompt and cautious; when -anxious excitement surrounded him, it did not disturb his judgment. -In dangerous and difficult cases he was always calm. His deep sense -of duty and responsibility was unbending.” There is a universal -concurrence of testimony as to his great success in gaining his -patients’ confidence; young and old looked with delight for his -visits. He would always direct the responsible nurse most precisely, -and endeavour by every possible device to secure that his special -treatment should be carried out. His searching and pointed questions -not unfrequently discovered “hidden seizures,” as he called them, -which had been totally unsuspected or uncomprehended by patients or -friends. His power of devising a remedy is amusingly illustrated -by his prescription to an indolent lady that she was to walk daily -to the Serpentine from her home, and dip her finger in it. The -desirability of healthy mental occupation, and the encouragement of -happiness and pleasing customs generally, were favourite subjects -of his injunctions. Sympathy and kindliness shone through his whole -manner. A Scotch minister said to him: “You place your soul in the -stead of your patient’s soul.” But he abhorred all coaxing and -wheedling; he hated cant. He would not lower his own lofty sense of -independence by anything approaching to it. One might have supposed -so sympathetic a nature would have been compliant; but his spirit and -dignity were consistent with and equal to his sympathy. It was but -another phase of his noble character that he could attend the poor -and the needy middle-class without allowing or causing them to feel -the slightest difference between themselves and the rich. - -This was the great physician who could never find a post as -physician in any London hospital. His medical teaching was almost -entirely confined to the schools that were outside the close circle -of the hospital schools. In 1834-6 he lectured on medicine at the -Aldersgate School, and then joined the Webb Street School (that of -the Graingers), taking a similar post. He also gave lectures for two -years at “Sydenham College,” established near University College. -But the exertion of lecturing concurrently at these two was too much -for his voice, and he could not complete his course in 1839. In -1842-6 he gave lectures on nervous diseases, at St. Thomas’s Hospital -Medical School. In these he illustrated many points by remarkable -diagram portraits of paralytic patients. His lectures were given -extemporaneously after careful preparation, and delivered extremely -clearly, without any showiness. When lecturing at a school unattached -to a hospital he would invite his pupils by turns to breakfast at -his house, that they might then see some of his poorer patients, and -go over their cases with him. One instance of his thoughtfulness for -his pupils is enough to mark out any man from among his fellows. A -student was confined to his room for three or four weeks by illness, -and Dr. Hall came regularly to his lodgings to give him a _resumé_ of -his lecture, and of what followed it. No wonder that an affectionate -feeling bound his class to him, and that no lecturer ever was more -attentively followed. The instances of the affection and regard -displayed in various ways between him and his pupils are among the -most interesting records in medical biography.[21] - -Though he had been denied the Fellowship of the College of Physicians -until 1841, Marshall Hall was at last fully recognised by the College -in being appointed to deliver the Gulstonian lectures in 1842, and -the Croonian in 1850, 1, and 2. In these courses, which were largely -attended, he fully explained his views and discoveries on the -nervous system and nervous diseases, as well as on general medical -treatment. They were published later, in the form of “Synopses” of -each course, in quarto. - -Notwithstanding his aversion to anything like strife in medical -politics, Marshall Hall took a prominent part in the formation of -the British Medical Association, and was at once elected on its -Council, and delivered the oration on Medical Reform in 1840. He -was in his true place in every philanthropic scheme that needed -medical advocacy. The open railway carriages were doomed when he -denounced them as dangerous to health; inhuman flogging of soldiers -was evidently condemned when he expounded the character of the -injuries inflicted on the cutaneous nerves, and the decree of shock -to the heart. He even wrote on the Higher Powers of Numbers, in the -_Mechanics’ Magazine_, and took an interest in devising new forms of -conjugation for Greek nouns and verbs. He strongly advocated a new -Pharmacopœia, based on the decimal system. He suggested in a pamphlet -as early as 1850 new works for the sewerage of the Thames, developing -his ideas more elaborately in 1852 and 1856. Many of his views and -plans have since been adopted: others must and will still be carried -out if London is to be properly and healthily drained. - -It is not to be imagined that Hall was so absorbed in study and -practice that he could not take recreation. No one enjoyed more than -he the pleasure of travelling, the tonic of the open air, the change -to the Continent, a tour to America; and he rigorously took these, -and enjoyed himself with the _abandon_ of a child. His delight in -splendid scenery was extreme; and he gratified his taste, in season, -by tours extending very widely over Europe. His visit to America was -specially undertaken in 1853 with the object of studying slavery by -personal observation. In New York and other cities he gave lectures -by request illustrative of his discoveries. From Quebec to New -Orleans, and even the Havana, his fame had preceded him, and he was -feted and listened to with as much ceremony and enthusiasm as his -retiring nature could be prevailed upon to endure. At the Havana -he lectured in French for two hours, and the medical students of -the city visited him again and again, thirsting for information at -first hand. Dr. and Mrs. Hall returned to England in April 1854; -and very soon after he published his little volume on “The Two-fold -Slavery of the United States.” The subject was one which most deeply -interested Marshall Hall’s philosophical and religious mind; and it -is significant of the depth of his philosophy that he was far-seeing -enough to be certain that unprepared abolition would be far from a -perfect boon for the slave, while yet he regarded the continuation -of slavery as wicked and degrading, financially ruinous, and tending -to generate wars. His remedies were first, education; second, the -appointment of fair task-work; third, the privilege of over-work, -to be paid for, and the payments accumulated till freedom could be -purchased with the aid of proportionate additions by the Federal and -States’ Governments. Whether his plan could ever have been worked -out will now never be known. That many of the evils he foresaw have -followed persistence in slavery and sudden abolition is matter of -certainty. - -Marshall Hall’s physical frame had been overtaxed by his exertions -and struggles, and he became increasingly liable to severe -laryngitis. Taking another continental trip in the winter of 1854-5, -he showed his vivid intellectual energy by applying himself at Rome -to the study of Hebrew. He engaged a Rabbi to teach him, and when -awake at night or at early dawn, he worked at his new study with -the zeal of a tripos candidate, and never did a pupil make more -rapid progress. He ascended Vesuvius during the eruption of May -1855, a serious undertaking for a man of sixty-five. At Paris, in -the summer, he wrote in three months a work in French, detailing -his investigations on the spinal system, dedicated to M. Flourens, -who had always shown the most generous appreciation of his labours -as constituting a great epoch in physiology. Louis, the great -physician, and his wife, were equally warm in their appreciation of -and attachment to him. On December 5, 1855, Marshall Hall was elected -a corresponding member of the French Academy of Science, by 39 votes -out of 41. - -On returning to England towards the end of 1855, Marshall Hall’s mind -fastened with characteristic eagerness on a new subject, suggested -by reading the Humane Society’s “Rules to Restore the Apparently -Drowned.” He remarked: “There is nothing in the treatment to restore -respiration.” He at once thought out the question in the light of his -researches on the physiology of respiration, and when he had mentally -devised his system of restoration, proceeded to make experiments -to test them. Hitherto it had been believed that it was useless to -attempt to restore those who had been immersed three or four minutes. -He said to the Secretary of the Humane Society: “If we take this for -granted, we shall do nothing; surely it is worth while to make the -effort to restore after a longer period.” His plan for producing -artificial respiration, by turning the body first on the face, then -on the side, and repeating the motion for a quarter of an hour, -making equable pressure on the back of the chest when in the prone -position, removing it when rotating on to the side, is known all over -the world as the Marshall Hall method, and has saved thousands of -lives. Numerous details are added to increase the efficiency of the -treatment. But the Humane Society looked coldly on the novel plan, -and long persisted in ignoring it. The National Lifeboat Institution -wisely adopted it; the medical profession received it with -acclamation; it was applied to the revival of still-born infants, -and the restoration of those in danger of dying from asphyxia from -other causes than drowning. At the same time when Palmer’s trial for -poisoning was occurring, Dr. Hall drew attention to the facility -with which the presence of strychnia could be proved by administering -any suspected matter to young frogs, which would be affected by the -five-thousandth part of a grain of strychnia. - -But he now began to succumb to the effects of his long-continued -malady in the throat. Expectoration of blood became more frequent, -difficulty of swallowing increased; at times he was near absolute -starvation, and his sufferings were horrible, but his patience and -resignation marvellous. After months of terrible illness, during -which his cheerfulness never left him, he died on the 11th August -1857, of ulceration of the upper part of the gullet and windpipe. -During his illness his mind was as active as ever, he wrote -continually his new ideas, and worked out to fuller ends his former -discoveries. Throughout he was especially bright and affectionate to -all little children; the manner in which he entered into children’s -delights was most exquisite to witness. His Christian faith was -unclouded; as he said, religion was to him the principal thing. In -the simplicity, beauty, and happiness of his character he resembled -Sir Charles Bell, of whom he was the true successor. - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[20] _Medical Times and Gazette_ August 29, 1857. - -[21] Memorials of Marshall Hall, by his widow, 1861. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - -_SIR BENJAMIN BRODIE AND SIR WILLIAM LAWRENCE, TWO GREAT PRACTICAL -SURGEONS._ - - -The influence of heredity and of association and connexion with -talented persons is well illustrated in the case of Sir Benjamin -Brodie. His paternal grandfather, Alexander Brodie, was a native of -Banffshire, who came to London as a humble adventurer and almost -as a Jacobite refugee. He married a daughter of a physician named -Shaw, of similar Jacobite family and connexions. Brodie became an -army clothier, and one of his daughters, who married Dr. Denman, the -eminent obstetric physician, was the mother of Lord Denman. Margaret -and Sophia, the twin daughters of Dr. Denman, married—the former -Sir Richard Croft, who attended the Princess Charlotte at her death -in 1817, the latter Dr. Matthew Baillie, the eminent physician, and -nephew of John Hunter. The army clothier’s wife was herself a woman -of considerable abilities, and it was said that there was royal blood -in the family. - -The father of Sir Benjamin was educated at Charterhouse and at -Oxford. As a boy he was patronised by the first Lord Holland, and -spent much time at Holland House. A warm attachment existed between -them, in which Charles James Fox shared. When Lord Holland died in -1774, he directed by will that Mr. Brodie, who had taken holy orders, -should have the next presentation to whichever of his livings first -became vacant. This desire was soon fulfilled, and Winterslow in -Wiltshire became the home of the Brodies. The Rev. Mr. Brodie married -in 1775 a daughter of Mr. Collins, a banker at Salisbury; and of this -marriage Benjamin Collins Brodie was the third son, having been born -in 1783. - -Sir Benjamin in his “Autobiography” gives a pleasing picture of his -father, a man of sound classical knowledge, great energy, minute -acquaintance with parishioners, and devotion to his parochial duties. -Notwithstanding his wife’s considerable fortune, Mr. Brodie found -he could not afford to send all his sons to public schools, and he -consequently determined to educate them himself. An elder sister -who joined the brothers at lessons became no mean proficient in -classics. Under the strict discipline of their father the children -grew up in the habit of methodical study, and Sir Benjamin records -that idleness even for a day was always irksome to him in after -life, and he had little inclination for any pursuit without a -definite ulterior object. Seven miles distant from Salisbury, the -family learned to be self-dependent for interest of all kinds, and -their solitude was little varied except by occasional visits of -cousins, such as Lord Denman, who was for a year a resident pupil -with Mr. Brodie after leaving Eton, and a few others, one of whom -was afterwards Dr. Maton, a well-known London physician, and (Sir) -John Stoddart, afterwards Chief Justice at Malta. Vigour of character -was shown markedly when in 1798 the brothers raised a company of -volunteers on the alarm of a French invasion. The eldest at nineteen -received a commission as captain, while Benjamin, only fourteen, was -appointed ensign. Great pains were bestowed on the drill of this -company, and the officers expended their pay in entertaining the men -in a great barn; and the influence already possessed by the youths -was evident in the maintenance and increase of the numbers of the -corps and the attention paid to drill. The eldest brother, Peter, -became a distinguished conveyancing barrister. The second was a local -banker, proprietor of a newspaper, and represented Salisbury in three -Parliaments. - -As he drew towards adult age, Brodie read extensively in science and -philosophy and general literature. In the autumn of 1801, the medical -profession having been chosen for him, he went to London without any -special bent towards the occupation in which he was destined to shine -so conspicuously. He gives it as his opinion, in after years, that -those who succeed best in professions are those who have embarked -in them not from irresistible prepossession but perhaps from some -accidental circumstance, and persevere in their course as a matter -of duty, or because they have nothing better to do. “They often -feel their new pursuit to be unattractive enough in the beginning; -but as they go on, and acquire knowledge, and find that they obtain -some degree of credit, the case is altered; and from that time they -become every day more interested in what they are about:”—a great -encouragement to the vast majority of students who do not feel the -stimulus and inspiration of genius. - -During his first season in London, young Brodie attended Abernethy’s -course on Anatomy, and to his influence may be attributed the choice -of surgery as his special vocation. “He kept up our attention,” says -Brodie, “so that it never flagged, and what he told us could not be -forgotten.” One of his earliest friendships was that which he formed -with William Lawrence as a fellow-student. This continued unbroken -throughout life, and though they might be regarded as rivals, no -jealousy ever arose between them. But Brodie was more at home with -his non-medical friends, his elder brother with whom he lodged, -Denman, Merivale, Wray, Stoddart, Gifford (afterwards Lord Gifford), -and Maton. The latter had established in London the Academical -Society, as a sort of transplant from Oxford, and Brodie was here -introduced to Lord Glenelg and his brother Robert Grant, Francis -Horner, Dr. Bateman, and “a young Scotchman of uncouth appearance,” -afterwards Lord Campbell. Before this Society Brodie read papers on -metaphysical enquiries and on the principles of science, showing -his philosophical bent. Berkeley was the author who influenced him -most powerfully, from his clear reasoning and simple unaffected -perspicuous style, terms which are specially appropriate to Brodie’s -own writing. - -In 1802 Wilson’s lectures on anatomy at Great Windmill Street were -Brodie’s main professional pabulum. “I was naturally very clumsy in -the use of my hands,” he says, “and it was only by taking great pains -with myself that I became at all otherwise.” In the spring of 1803 -he became a pupil of Home (afterwards Sir Everard) at St. George’s -Hospital, continuing also his anatomical studies. He ultimately -became Sir Everard’s assistant both in the hospital and in private -practice. From this connection, however, he derived little pecuniary -profit, but by aiding Home in his researches in comparative anatomy -and physiology he gained decided benefit. In 1805, however, Brodie -became demonstrator in Wilson’s anatomical school. He was introduced -to Sir Joseph Banks, and through him to the best scientific men of -the day. Could there be more favourable conditions for progress, or -circumstances more unlike these of chilling seclusion and neglect -which have so often hindered and overshadowed men of merit? - -Brodie continued to demonstrate, and from 1809 to lecture at Great -Windmill Street, until in 1812 (Sir) Charles Bell became principal -lecturer there. In 1808 he was appointed assistant surgeon at St. -George’s Hospital, by Home’s influence, and in reality did the work -of a full surgeon almost from that date. Private practice he scarcely -attempted, his hands being full of anatomical and hospital work. -Robert Keate and Brodie were at the hospital daily, and superintended -everything; there was never an urgent case that they did not visit -in the evening. This surgical experience was at once turned to -advantage by Wilson, who asked Brodie to join him in lecturing on -surgery. From 1809 onward for nearly twenty years, Brodie gave this -course of lectures, and had a good attendance of students; besides -which he lectured on surgery at St. George’s Hospital till 1840. In -1809 he took a house in Sackville Street and received three private -pupils, and in 1810 felt justified, from the increase of his means, -in engaging in physiological enquiries, stimulated by Bichat’s -researches. He was elected into the Royal Society in 1810; and in the -same and following winter communicated to the Society two valuable -papers, one “On the Influence of the Brain on the Action of the Heart -and the Generation of Animal Heat;” and the other “On the Effects -produced by certain Vegetable Poisons.” The former was given as the -Croonian Lecture in 1810. These papers, though largely superseded by -recent investigations, were quite remarkable for their time, and for -the first he was awarded the Copley Medal in 1811, which had never -before been given to so young a man. - -It is worth noting that a medal was awarded by the Royal Society to -the second Sir Benjamin Brodie in 1850, for his investigations “on -the chemical nature of wax.” With the exception of the two Herschels, -this is the only instance in which father and son have received this -honour. The most noted, perhaps, of Brodie’s physiological papers -was one on the influence of the nervous system on the production of -animal heat, published in 1812. He concluded that an animal with -the nervous centres removed, or with their functions suspended by -narcotic poison, lost its power of generating heat, even though the -action of the lungs was kept up by artificial respiration. Brodie -used the then little known woorara poison brought by Dr. Bancroft -from Guiana, to produce suspension of the nervous action. In after -life increase of practice left little time for further physiological -research. - -At length Brodie married (in 1816) Ann, the third daughter of -Serjeant Sellon, his bride being only nineteen. This was in every -way a happy marriage; and Sir Benjamin always warmly recognised his -wife’s excellent moral training of their children. In the year of -their marriage Brodie’s professional income from fees and lectures -amounted to £1530. For some years he had paid special attention to -diseases of the joints, which were then very ill understood; and in -1819 he published his classical work “On the Pathology and Surgery of -Diseases of the Joints.” He clearly distinguished between diseases of -the various tissues of which joints are composed; and also between -hysterical, neuralgic, and merely local diseases. Many limbs, in -which no disease could be found after removal, were at that time -removed merely because pain was felt in them. A story told in the -_Lancet_ on this subject is worth reproducing. - -“Late one evening a person came into our office, and asked to see -the Editor of the _Lancet_. On being introduced to our sanctum, -he placed a bundle upon the table, from which he proceeded to -extract a very fair and symmetrical lower extremity, and which had -evidently belonged to a woman. ‘There!’ said he, ‘is there anything -the matter with that leg? Did you ever see a handsomer? What ought -the man to be done with who cut it off?’ On having the meaning of -those interrogatories put before us, we found that it was the leg of -the wife of our evening visitor. He had been accustomed to admire -the lady’s leg and foot, of the perfection of which she was, it -appeared, fully conscious. A few days before, he had excited her -anger, and they had quarrelled violently, upon which she left the -house, declaring she would be revenged on him, and that he should -never see the objects of his admiration again. The next thing he -heard of her was that she was a patient in —— Hospital, and had -had her leg amputated. She had declared to the surgeons that she -suffered intolerable pain in the knee, and had begged to have the -limb removed—a petition the surgeons complied with, and thus became -the instrument of her absurd and self-torturing revenge upon her -husband.” - -Brodie may now be regarded as firmly established in public favour. -His income in 1819 exceeded that of the preceding year by £1000. He -enjoyed the intimate acquaintance of Lord and Lady Holland, and the -sunshine of their friendship had its strong influence on practice. -In 1819 Brodie removed to Savile Row, and in the same year was -appointed to succeed Lawrence as Professor of Comparative Anatomy and -Physiology at the College of Surgeons. In this capacity he lectured -for four years, delivering new and original matter each time. -They constituted a frightful addition to his labours, and he only -completed them by taking many hours from needed sleep. He records, -however, that few things contributed more to his improvement than the -composition of his lectures, and the habit of recording his knowledge -and thoughts. It enabled him to detect his own deficiencies, and to -avoid hasty conclusions, and taught him to be less conceited of his -own opinions. - -An important branch of modern surgery may be said to have had its -rise in an operation first performed by Brodie. Nowadays subcutaneous -operations, in which the slightest possible opening is made in the -skin, and frequently considerable incisions or other interferences -are made beneath it, are very common, and the procedure is of the -greatest importance in orthopædic surgery and the relief of muscular -and tendinous contractions of various kinds. Brodie first performed -a subcutaneous operation for the relief of varicose veins of the -legs in 1814, and several similar cases were published by him in the -seventh volume of the “Medico-Chirurgical Transactions.” If no other -operative improvement of great moment is associated with Brodie’s -name, it is not that he has not left his mark on that department of -practice, but rather that he has been the introducer of innumerable -minor improvements. In particular, he was notable in devising -improvements in surgical instruments and apparatus. - -In 1821, Brodie was called in to attend George IV., who very much -wished him to perform the operation which in deference to Lord -Liverpool was entrusted to Sir Astley Cooper. Brodie remained ever -after a favourite with George IV. and attended him frequently during -his last illness, going to Windsor every evening, and visiting the -King at six in the morning and remaining with him for an hour or two -before returning to London. When William IV. came to the throne, -Brodie was appointed Serjeant Surgeon, and soon after received -a baronetcy. He had now for some years been at the head of his -profession, having succeeded to Sir Astley’s place on his retirement -in 1828. In 1823 his income was already £6500; for many years his -practice brought him £10,000 and sometimes £11,000 a year. This was -a very remarkable income considering the small proportion of it that -was derived from operations. Much the greatest part he took in single -guinea fees, and thus it is seen how much his opinion was valued in -surgical cases. Indeed he often, especially after his retirement -from St. George’s Hospital in 1840, refused to perform important -operations to which he felt no special attraction. But his abiding -popularity and influence is shown by the fact that his total receipts -from fees, from first to last, considerably exceeded Sir Astley’s. -He used to say that he had always kept in mind the saying of William -Scott (afterwards Lord Stowell) to his brother John (subsequently -Lord Eldon), “John, always keep the Lord Chancellorship in view, -and you will be sure to get it in the end:” and a similar aim and -distinction were Brodie’s. - -Meanwhile, the public interest was by no means lost sight of in -private practice. To Brodie is largely due the merit of having put -a stop to the career of St. John Long, the fashionable medical -impostor. Sir Benjamin was one afternoon on his way to visit a friend -at Hampstead, when he was called in to see a Miss Cashin. Finding -an enormous slough on her back, caused by Long’s treatment, he -exclaimed, “Why, this is no better than murder!” The lady died, and -on the strength of Sir Benjamin’s expressions, an inquest was held, -followed by the trial and condemnation of Long. Yet such was the -strength of the fashionable partisanship in favour of the impostor, -that the judge, Mr. Justice Park, merely fined him £250, which he at -once paid. A second trial in another case, where death had ensued -upon his treatment, ended in a verdict of acquittal. - -In 1834 Sir Benjamin succeeded to the first vacancy that occurred, -after his appointment as Serjeant Surgeon, in the Court of Examiners -of the College of Surgeons; this was by prescription due to his court -office. He found this duty very irksome, and he resigned it when a -new charter, which he had been largely instrumental in obtaining, no -longer granted this privilege to the Serjeant Surgeon. - -In 1839 and ’40 Sir Benjamin was President of the Royal Medical -and Chirurgical Society, and here again he shone. In addition to -his own most valuable contributions, he excelled in drawing out -others. His attendance was most diligent; his mind was never at a -loss for something interesting to say; he stimulated discussion -when an opposite precedent had been established; and to him a very -large share of the Society’s prosperity was due. Of course the -Presidency of the Royal College of Surgeons fell to his lot. When -the General Medical Council was established, Sir Benjamin was by -common consent called to the Presidency; and in 1858 he received -a still more remarkable honour in being called to the Presidency -of the Royal Society, which office he held with dignity and wisdom -till 1861. It is impossible for us here to record all the important -offices Brodie filled, nor all the valuable communications he made -to learned societies and various journals. Fortunately his charming -autobiography is very accessible, being published separately as well -as in the excellent collection of works, in three vols., 1865, edited -by Mr. Charles Hawkins. - -It is easily imagined that Brodie’s long course of labour could only -have been sustained by a strong constitution. He was not altogether -robust, but by careful management succeeded in preserving excellent -health. In 1834, while in the Isle of Wight, he fell from a pony -and dislocated his right shoulder joint, which long after became -diseased. In July 1860 his sight became impaired, and he ultimately -submitted to excision of the iris of both eyes by Mr. (now Sir -William) Bowman. Later, he was operated on for cataract; but all -efforts to preserve good sight were futile. In July 1862 he began to -suffer in his right shoulder, and finally died of cancerous disease -in that joint on October 21st, 1862. He was buried at Betchworth, -Surrey, in which parish the estate, Broome Park, which he had -purchased, is situated. - -The _Lancet_ said of him, “It is true praise of Sir Benjamin Brodie -to say, that he was more distinguished as a physician-surgeon than -as an operating-surgeon. His vocation was more to heal limbs than to -remove them. His imagination had never been dazzled by the brilliancy -of the knife, to any great operative display. He was, however, always -a most steady and successful operator: lightness of hand, caution -without timidity, never-failing coolness, and fertility of resources, -were his distinguishing characteristics. He made no secret of his -opinion, that the operative part of surgery was not its highest part. -Diagnosis had always been his great strength, and his opinion was, -therefore, always deeply valued by the profession and the public. We -believe his heart was with hospital, rather than private practice, -but in almost all cases men are more fond of their early occupations -than of those which come afterwards. As a teacher, he was always -distinguished for the value of the matter he had to communicate. -Those who heard him in the early part of his career say that he was -then energetic rather than polished; that he appeared to struggle -with the weight and mass of facts he had stored up in his mind. But, -in later years, his delivery was fluent and perfect. No man in his -profession could deliver himself more readily or more elegantly than -Sir Benjamin Brodie.” - -Dr. Babington, President of the Royal Medical and Chirurgical -Society, thus characterised Brodie:—“As a practical surgeon Sir -Benjamin Brodie attained a success far beyond that of most of his -contemporaries, and this he seems to have owed, not to personal -appearance or manner, not to eccentricity, not to an unusual degree -of courtesy on the one hand, or of bluntness or brusquery on the -other, but to the legitimate influence of a high order of intellect, -thoroughly devoted to the practical application of the stores of -surgical knowledge acquired by his assiduity and experience—to the -sound, well-considered, and decided opinions which his patients -were sure to obtain from him, and to the confidence which his high -religious principles and his strict morality inspired.... For -myself, I can only say that I never knew a more single-minded and -upright character, one more free from affectation or presumption, -who expected less deference or deserved more, or who more completely -impressed me with a belief that the main object of his efforts, that -which was always uppermost on his mind, was, wholly irrespective of -self, to benefit those by whom he was consulted.” - -Dr. (now Sir Henry) Acland has given in the Proceedings of the -Royal Society perhaps the best survey of Brodie’s character and -work:—“Neither as scientific man, nor as surgeon, nor as author was -he so remarkable as he appears when viewed as he was—a complete man -necessarily engaged in various callings. It was impossible to see -him acting in any capacity without instinctively feeling that there -he would do his duty, and do it well. Nor could he be imagined in a -false position. A gentleman, according to his own definition of that -word, he did to others that which he would desire to be done to him, -respecting them as he respected himself. Simple in his manners, he -gained confidence at once; accustomed to mix with the poorest in the -hospital and with the noblest in their private abodes, he sympathised -with the better qualities of each,—valued all, and despised nothing -but moral meanness. Though as a boy he was retiring and modest, he -was happy in the company of older persons, and, as he grew older, -loved in his turn to help the young. ‘I hear you are ill,’ he wrote -once in the zenith of his life to a hospital student of whom he did -not then know much; ‘no one will take better care of you than I; -come to my country house till you are well;’ and the student stayed -there two months. He was thought by some reserved—he was modest; -by others hasty—he valued time, and could not give to trifles that -which belonged to real suffering; he was sometimes thought impatient, -when his quick glance had already told him more than the patient -could either describe or understand. Unconscious of self, of strong -common-sense, confident of his ground or not entering thereon, seeing -in every direction, modest, just, sympathetic, he lived for one -great end, the lessening of disease. For this object no labour was -too great, no patience too long, no science too difficult. He felt -indeed his happiness to be in a life of exertion. As a professional -man he valued science because it so often points the way to that -which is practically useful to many; but as a scientific man his -one object was the truth, which he pursued for its own sake, wholly -irrespective of any other reward which might or might not follow on -discovery. He had not the common faults of common men, for he had not -their objects, nor their instinct for ease, nor their prejudices; -though he became rich, he had not unduly sought riches; though he -was greatly distinguished, he had not desired fame; he was beloved, -not having courted popularity. What he was himself, that he allowed -other men to be, till he found them otherwise. He saw weak points -in his profession, but he saw them as the débris from the mountains -of knowledge and wisdom, of benevolence and of self-denial, of old -traditional skill ever growing and always purifying,—those eternal -structures on which are founded true surgery and medicine. If ever he -was bitter in society, it was when they were under-valued; if ever -sarcastic, it was when the ignorant dared presume to judge them. - -“A light is thus thrown on his even career of uniform progress. -Training his powers from youth upwards, by linguistic and literary -studies, by scientific pursuits, by the diligent practice of his -art, by mixing with men, he brought to bear on the multifarious -questions which come before a great master of healing, a mind alike -accustomed to acquire and to communicate, a temper made gentle by -considerate kindness, a tact that became all but unerring from his -perfect integrity. He saw that every material science conduces to the -well-being of man; he would countenance all, and yet be distracted by -none. He knew the value of worldly influence, of rank, of station, -when rightly used; he sought none, deferred excessively to none; but -he respected all who, having them, used them wisely, and accepted -what came to himself unasked, gave his own freely to all who needed, -and sought help from no one but for public ends.... Those who knew -him only as a man of business, would little suspect the playful -humour which sparkled by his fireside, the fund of anecdote—the -harmless wit, the simple pleasures of his country walk. - -“In the quality of his mind he was not unlike the most eminent of -his contemporaries, Arthur Duke of Wellington. Those who did not -know him, and who do not appreciate the power requisite to make such -a master in medicine as he was, may be surprised at the comparison. -Yet our great soldier might have accepted the illustration without -dissatisfaction. Whatever art Brodie undertook, if he has been -correctly drawn, he would have entirely mastered. The self-discipline -of the strongest man can effect no more. The care with which the -two men compassed every detail, and surveyed every bearing of a -large question, the quiet good sense, the steadiness of purpose, the -readiness of wide professional knowledge in critical emergencies, -were in each alike. The public and his profession esteemed Brodie as -the first in his art.” - - * * * * * - -WILLIAM LAWRENCE was born at Cirencester in July 1783, his father -having practised as a surgeon in that town for many years. After -being educated at a classical school near Gloucester, young Lawrence -was apprenticed in February 1799 to the celebrated Abernethy, in -whose house he went to reside. In after years, when lecturing -before the College of Surgeons for the first time, Lawrence spoke -thus eloquently of his teacher:—“Having had the good fortune to be -initiated in the profession by Mr. Abernethy, and to have lived -for many years under his roof, I can assure you, with the greatest -sincerity, that however highly the public may estimate the surgeon -and the philosopher, I have reason to speak still more highly of -the man and the friend; of the invariable kindness which directed my -early studies and pursuits, of the disinterested friendship which -has assisted every step of my progress in life, and the benevolent -and honourable feelings, the independent spirit and the liberal -conduct, which, while they dignify our profession, win our love, -and command our respect for genius and knowledge, converting those -precious gifts into instruments of the most extensive public good.” -Lawrence proved himself so zealous a pupil that in the third year of -his apprenticeship, Abernethy appointed him to be his demonstrator -of anatomy, a post which he filled for twelve years. Becoming -a member of the College of Surgeons in 1805, he was appointed -Assistant Surgeon to St. Bartholomew’s Hospital in 1813, and in -the same year was elected F.R.S. Already in 1801 he had published -a translation from the Latin of a Description of the Arteries, by -Murray, Professor at Uppsala. In 1806 he won a prize offered by the -College of Surgeons, for an essay on the Treatment of Hernia. This -essay when printed gained immediate acceptance, and numerous editions -were published. Lawrence’s contributions to anatomy and surgery now -followed rapidly, several appearing in the _Edinburgh Medical and -Physical Journal_. His observations on Lithotomy showed the way to a -revival of the true system of operating laterally with the knife. In -1814 Lawrence was chosen surgeon to the Eye Hospital at Moorfields, -and in 1815 to the Royal Hospitals of Bridewell and Bethlehem. In -the latter year he was selected for the Professorship of Anatomy and -Physiology at the College of Surgeons, and hence arose one of the -bitterest controversial tempests of the early part of this century. - -Lawrence took occasion, in his first lectures in 1816, to criticise -Abernethy’s exposition of Hunter’s theory of life, and to unfold -views which seriously scandalised those who regarded life as a -mysterious entity entirely separate from and above the material -organism with which it is associated. These views were criticised -by Abernethy in his “Physiological Lectures” in 1817, and Lawrence -replied in 1818, in terms of sarcasm which made a serious breach -between the master and his former pupil. Lawrence’s lectures were -published as “An Introduction to Comparative Anatomy and Physiology,” -1816, and “Lectures on Physiology, Zoology, and the Natural History -of Man,” 1819. Having been accused by Abernethy and others “of -perverting the honourable office intrusted to him, by the College -of Surgeons, to the very unworthy design of propagating opinions -detrimental to society, and of endeavouring to enforce them for -the purpose of loosening those restraints on which the welfare of -mankind depends,” he used his eloquence unsparingly both to defend -his position, and to repel the attacks made upon him. He was not -more heretical than many of his predecessors, nor than a great many -enlightened biologists of the present day. He regarded life as “the -assemblage of all the functions, and the general result of their -exercise. Thus organisation, vital properties, functions and life, -are expressions related to each other; in which organisation is the -instrument, vital properties the acting power, function the mode -of action, and life the result.” Again, “we find that the motion -proper to living bodies, or in one word, Life, has its origin in -that of their parents. From their parents they have received the -vital impulse, and hence it is evident, that in the present state of -things, life proceeds only from life; and there exists no other but -that which has been transmitted from one living body to another by an -uninterrupted succession.” - -Lawrence was virulently attacked, and his name associated with Tom -Paine and Lord Byron as arch-heretics. A pamphlet of the year 1820 -has the following title: “The Radical Triumvirate; or, Infidel Paine, -Lord Byron, and Surgeon Lawrence colleaguing with the Patriotic -Radicals to emancipate Mankind from all laws Human and Divine, with a -plate engraved for their instruction: a Letter to John Bull from an -Oxonian resident in London.” The Christian Advocate in the University -of Cambridge, the Rev. Thomas Rennell, among others, took up the task -of controverting Lawrence’s supposed materialism. The lectures on -the comparative anatomy of man certainly put forward in a striking -light many of Blumenbach’s views, and showed that the literal -accuracy of the early parts of Genesis was inconsistent with the -facts of zoology and comparative anatomy. We might proceed further -on this subject, but Lawrence himself prevented his successors from -espousing his personal cause with ardour, for, being called upon to -resign his position at Bridewell and Bethlehem, “he did not resign, -but recanted; bought up all the copies of his work ‘On the History -of Man,’ and sent them over to America.”[22] Numerous modified and -also spurious editions were sold. This conduct deprives him of a -large share of our sympathy and respect. Had Lawrence, like Darwin or -Huxley, maintained his opinions when most unpopular, he might have -won a victory for sound science years before it actually was gained. -If he had been the original discoverer of the truths he enunciated, -and had bought them with his life’s energy, he would scarcely have -dropped them at the raging of a storm. But the glory was not to be -his. He was tried in the balance and found wanting. - -The early symptoms of disagreement between Abernethy and Lawrence -extended to other members of the staff, and led to the establishment -of the Aldersgate Street School of Medicine, where Lawrence lectured -on surgery till 1828, when he succeeded to Abernethy’s lectures on -surgery at St. Bartholomew’s. The Aldersgate School included able -teachers, such as Tweedie, Clutterbuck, Roget, Tyrrell, and Davis, -and had much success. Lawrence’s connection with the Eye Infirmary -led him to become an authority on the surgery of the eye. He -published in 1830 a treatise on the venereal diseases of the eye, in -1833 a treatise on diseases of the eye, besides other papers on this -branch of practice. Late in life he published, in 1863, his valuable -“Lectures on Surgery.” His smaller works and papers are too numerous -to mention. - -As a student, Sir Benjamin Brodie describes William Lawrence -as already remarkable for his great powers of acquirement, his -industrious habits, and his immense stores of information. In later -life he characterised him as possessed of considerable powers of -conversation, abounding in happy illustrations and not ill-natured -sarcasm. “In public speaking,” says Brodie, “he is collected, has -great command of language, and uses it correctly. In writing, -his style is pure, free from all affectation, yet in general not -sufficiently concise.... That he is thoroughly acquainted with his -profession cannot be doubted.” But Sir Benjamin does not attribute to -him so much originality as erudition and industry. - -It is in his relations to medical politics that the conduct of -William Lawrence is most open to question. When the College of -Surgeons was a close corporation, he put himself at the head of -a great agitation to liberalise it. An eloquent speech at the -Freemasons’ Tavern in 1826 was one of the marked features of the -campaign, in which he joined heartily with the _Lancet_ in attacking -the old-world system of the College. “But,” says the _Lancet_, “the -Council feared him, and elected him into their body. From that moment -Mr. Lawrence became a conservative and an obstructive, and maintained -that character to the close of his life. He not only deserted his -former friends, but lost no opportunity of reviling them.... Mr. -Lawrence, during the long period that he was a member of the Council, -and of the Court of Examiners, resolutely and consistently opposed -every attempt that was made to improve the education and the status -of the surgeon in general practice.” - -Lawrence was twice President of the College, and more than once -delivered the Hunterian Oration. On the last of these occasions, in -1846, when a new charter had lately been obtained which failed to -gratify the just aspirations of the members of the College, no one, -it is said, could be persuaded to deliver the Hunterian Oration, till -Lawrence, with characteristic polemic zeal, threw himself into the -breach. A crowded audience, for the most part hostile, assembled; -and Lawrence, instead of avoiding controversy, both defended and -commended the action of the Council. A storm of indignation was -excited, especially among those who had listened to his contrary -deliverances twenty years before. But “the orator was imperturbable -in the fiercest of the storm. He certainly displayed on that occasion -his most extraordinary talents as an orator. When he had allowed his -audience to exhaust their dissatisfaction at the sentiments which -he had uttered, he concluded his address in a most masterly and -eloquent peroration, which called forth the plaudits of the assembly.” - -“In arriving at a just estimation of the character of Sir W. -Lawrence, it must be admitted,” says the _Lancet_, “that in most -of the higher qualities of the mind he was entitled to admiration. -His talents were of the highest order, seldom surpassed in our -profession. As a writer, his style was vigorous, clear, and -convincing. As a lecturer, in manner, substance, and expression, -he had no superior in the profession of our time, if we except -Joseph Henry Green. As an operator, if not among the greatest, he is -entitled to hold a high position. But it must be acknowledged that -‘his principles were somewhat lax, his heart was somewhat hard.’ -We speak of him now merely in a public capacity, for in all the -relations of private life he was most estimable and affectionate. -Notwithstanding the low estimation in which he held surgeons in -general practice, it is probable no pure surgeon of modern times -ever had so large a general practice as himself. If they were only -competent for the ‘common exigencies of surgery,’ he at all events -thought himself able to treat every class of disease, whether medical -or surgical.” - -In physical frame Lawrence was well developed and vigorous, above -middle height, with a high forehead, a cold but keen blue eye, a -classic nose, a large expressive mouth, and a firm chin of some size. -He was always somewhat liable to loss of nerve power in the face or -in the lower limbs. In 1865 he began to become enfeebled, and finally -hemiplegia supervened, and a second attack, at the Council Chamber -of the College of Surgeons, laid him by completely. But he remained -conscious till the last, dying on the 5th July 1867. A bust of him -adorns the rooms of the Medico-Chirurgical Society, and another is -in the College of Surgeons. A baronetcy was only conferred on him in -the March before his death. He had long been Surgeon Extraordinary to -the Queen, and finally Serjeant Surgeon. It has been said of him that -he kept his appointments as long as possible; but it may be answered -that he was full of vitality, and died in harness. - - -END OF VOL. I. - -PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO. EDINBURGH AND LONDON. - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[22] _Lancet_, July 13, 1867. It has been since shown that Lawrence -had nothing to do with the American speculation. - - - - -INDEX. - - - Abercrombie’s, Sir Ralph, Expedition, i. 182. - - Aberdeen University, i. 100, ii. 246. - - ABERNETHY, JOHN (1764-1831), i. 146, 162, 168; - early years, 227; - apprenticeship, 227; - pupil of Pott and John Hunter, 228; - appointed assistant-surgeon to St. Bartholomew’s, 228; - his lectures, 229; - dramatic style, 230, 231; - his method, 232; - apt phrases, 233; - roughness and eccentricity, 233, 234; - impatience, 235; - gratitude of an Irishman, 235, 236; - anecdotes, 236, 237; - surgical and physiological essays, 237; - “read my book,” 238; - marriage, 239; - becomes full surgeon, 239; - failing health, 240; - resigns appointments, 240; - death, 241; - Abernethy and Brodie, 289; - and Lawrence, 303-305, 307. - - Academy of Science, French, i. 283. - - Acland, Sir H., on Brodie, i. 300-303; - on Stokes, ii. 189, 192. - - Acupressure, ii. 102. - - Addison Family, the, ii. 1, 2. - - ADDISON, THOMAS (1793-1860), education, ii. 2; - at Edinburgh, 2; - settles in London, 3; - dislike of specialism, 3; - appointments at Guy’s, 4, 5; - early works, 4; - writes on practice of medicine, &c., 5; - on disease of supra-renal capsules (Addison’s disease), 6, 7; - clinical teaching, 7; - his practicality, 8; - Dr. Wilks on, 8-10, 11; - bluntness and shyness, 10, 11; - Continental reputation, 11; - Dr. Lonsdale on, 12; - marriage, 12, 13; - death, 13; - Addison Ward, 13; - association with Dr. Bright, 17, 21. - - Aikin, John, on Harvey, i. 47; - on Cullen, 95. - - Akenside, Mark, i. 99. - - Aldersgate School of Medicine, i. 279, ii. 241. - - Aldus Manutius, i. 2, 3. - - Alison, Dr. W. P., i. 105, ii. 180, 188. - - Anæsthetics, ii. 95-100. - - Anatomical Lectures, i. 18, 75-79, 84, 109, 121, 135, 138, 204, 205, - 229, 246, 289, ii. 25, 26, 36, 37, 48, 49, 73, 226. - - Anatomists, William Hunter on, i. 125. - - Anatomy in London, i. 18; - in Edinburgh, 72, 73; - stealing corpses for, 77; - the resurrectionists, 208-211; - at Royal Academy, 247. - - —— Comparative. See Comparative Anatomy. - - Anderson, Dr. James, on Cullen, i. 96, 98. - - Aneurism, i. 153, 214, ii. 44. - - Antiseptic Surgery, ii. 46, 114, 141-147. - - Arthur, Prince, i. 3. - - Aubrey on Harvey, i. 35, 38, 48, 49. - - - Babington, Dr., on Brodie, i. 299. - - BAILLIE, Dr. MATTHEW (1761-1823) on William Hunter, i. 124; - completes his uncle’s work, 128; - his uncle’s bequests to him, 130, 132; - at John Hunter’s death, 158; - and Marshall Hall, 267, 269; - his practicality, ii. 51; - education, 52; - assists William Hunter, 53; - writes on morbid anatomy, 53; - physician to St. George’s Hospital, 53; - physician to George III., 54; - manners and generosity, 54, 55; - death, 55; - bequest to College of Physicians, 55. - - Balderson, Charles, i. 208, 211, 215. - - Balfour, Sir A., i. 72. - - Barber Surgeons, i. 18, 72. - - Barclay, Dr. (anatomical lecturer), ii. 25, 35. - - Bark, Peruvian, i. 59. - - Barlow, Dr. H. C., ii. 120. - - Barlow, Dr., on Dr. Bright, ii. 14. - - Baron, Dr., Life of E. Jenner, i. 169, 200, 201. - - Bayley, Miss, i. 186. - - Bell, Benjamin, i. 109, 110. - - Bell, George Joseph, i. 243, 259. - - Bell (John Hunter’s artist), i. 145, 147, 148. - - Bell, Lady; i. 249, 258, 261-263. - - BELL, JOHN (1763-1820), and Dr. Gregory, i. 103, 105, 110; - early years, 108; - attacks Monro and Benjamin Bell, 109, 110: - excluded from Infirmary, 110; - success in practice, 111; - operative skill, 111; - works on anatomy and surgery, 112; - marriage, 113; - artistic tastes; 113; - illness and foreign travel, 113; - death, 114; - Observations on Italy, 114; - personal character, 117, 118; - and Charles Bell, 243, 244, ii. 48, 107. - - BELL, Sir CHARLES (1774-1842), i. 108, 112, 113; - birth and education, 243; - medical study in Edinburgh, 244; - early works, 244; - goes to London, 245; - artistic anatomy, 245; - lectures and early struggles, 246; - anatomy of expression, 246; - his lively temperament, 247; - first idea of new anatomy of brain, 247; - disappointment of Academy professorship, 248 - visit to Haslar Hospital, 248; - marriage, 249; - partnership in Windmill Street School, 249; - elected surgeon to Middlesex Hospital, 250; - goes to Waterloo, 250; - pamphlet on Brain, 251; - crucial experiments on spinal cord, 252; - publishes his discoveries on the nervous system, 253; - elucidates obscure diseases, 254; - muscular sense, 254; - Bridgewater Treatise on the Hand, 255; - becomes professor at College of Surgeons, 256; - at London University, 257; - retires from latter, 257; - fly-fishing, 257; - his happy temperament, 258; - knighted, 259; - elected Professor at Edinburgh, 259; - coldness of fellow-professors, 260; - excitement at proposed changes, 260; - journey to London, 260, 261; - his last day, 261; - _Edinburgh Review_ on, 262; - Jeffrey’s Epitaph on, 262. - - Bell, William, i. 242. - - BENNETT, JOHN HUGHES (1812-1875); - early training, ii. 209; - studies at Edinburgh, 210; - studies in Paris and in Germany, 210; - treatise on cod-liver oil, 210; - lectures in Edinburgh, 211; - polyclinical course, 211, 212; - literary work, 212; - elected Professor, 212; - clinical teaching, 213; - and Leucocythæmia, 213; - views on pneumonia, 214; - principal works, 214, 215; - character, 215, 216; - illness, operation, and death, 216. - - Berkeley, Admiral, and vaccination, i. 192. - - Bishops’ licenses to practise medicine, i. 10. - - Blackhall, Dr., ii. 19. - - Black, Joseph, i. 84, 90, 92, 96. - - Blane, Sir Gilbert, i. 192. - - Blicke, Sir C., i. 227. - - Blizard, Sir W., i. 144, 228. - - Booker, Rev. Dr., i. 185. - - Botany at Edinburgh, i. 72. - - Bowman, J. Eddowes, ii. 261. - - BOWMAN, Sir W. (_b._ 1816); - early life, ii. 261; - studies medicine at Birmingham, 261; - at Dublin and King’s College, London, 261; - becomes demonstrator and curator, 262; - Continental studies, 262; - physiological papers, 262; - scientific writing, 263; - appointed to Ophthalmic Hospital, 263; - eye practice, 264; - professorship of physiology, 264; - baronetcy, 265; - St. John’s House, 265; - assist Miss Nightingale’s work, 265; - supports physiological experiments, 265; - lofty view of surgery, 266. - - Boyle, Robert, i. 54. - - Bridgewater Treatises, i. 255. - - BRIGHT, RICHARD (1789-1858), ii. 5; - birth, 14; - studies at Edinburgh and Guy’s, 15; - journey through Iceland, 15; - enters at Cambridge, 16; - travels on Continent, 16, 17; - at Waterloo, 16; - appointments at Fever Hospital and at Guy’s, 17; - Dr. Wilks on, 18; - writes on kidney diseases, 18-20; - on pneumonia, 20; - on cerebral and spinal diseases, 21; - practice, and death, 21; - character, 22, 23; - and Holland, 63, 64. - - Bristol Medical School, ii. 127. - - British Association, ii. 183. - - British Medical Association, i. 281, ii. 162, 177. - - _British Medical Journal_, ii. 154, 248, 265. - - Brodie, Alexander, i. 286. - - Brodie, Peter, i. 288. - - Brodie, Rev. Mr., i. 287. - - BRODIE, Sir BENJAMIN (1783-1862); - ancestry, i. 286; - birth, 287; - early years and education, 288; - an ensign at fourteen, 288; - medical study in London, 288, 290; - non-medical friends, 289; - the Academical Society, 289; - becomes demonstrator at Windmill Street, 290; - appointed Assistant-Surgeon to St. George’s, 290; - lectures on Surgery, 291; - physiological studies, 291, 292; - marriage, 292; - work on Diseases of Joints, 292; - professional success, 294; - professorship at College of Surgeons, 294; - subcutaneous surgery, 294; - court appointments, and baronetcy, 295; - opposition to impostors, 296; - his numerous presidencies, 297; - autobiography, 297; - operations on his eyes, 298; - death, 298; - character of, 298-303; - character of Lawrence, 308. - - Brougham, Lord, i. 246, ii. 34, 43. - - Brown, Baker, ii. 110, 111. - - Brown, Dr. John (Horæ Subsecivæ), on Sydenham, i. 59. - - Brown, Dr. John (founder of Brownian System), i. 98. - - Brown Square School, ii. 36, 37. - - Buckland, F., and John Hunter’s remains, i. 163. - - Budd, George, ii. 125. - - Budd, Samuel, ii. 125. - - BUDD, WILLIAM (1811-1880); - early life, ii. 125; - medical studies, 125; - investigates typhoid fever at North Tawton, 125-126; - germ theory, 126-128; - removes to Clifton, 127; - opposition to his views, 128; - measures against cholera, 128, 129; - against rinderpest, 129; - his writings, 129; - incessant work, 130; - views on pulmonary consumption, 130; - death, 130; - Murchison and, 132. - - Buller, Justice, and John Hunter, i. 151. - - Burke, Edmund, i. 91. - - Byng, Dr., and Caius, i. 20. - - - Cæsalpinus, i. 29. - - Caius College. See Gonville and Caius, also Caius, John. - - CAIUS, JOHN (1510-1573), builds Linacre’s monument, i. 13; - birth, 13; - at Cambridge, 14; - elected fellow of Gonville Hall, 14; - studies at Padua, and travels in Italy, France, and Germany, 14; - practises medicine, 14; - appointed physician to Edward VI., 14; - writes on Sweating Sickness, 15; - denounces quacks, 16, 17; - elected President of College of Physicians, 17, 20; - introduces dissection, 18; - enlarges Gonville Hall and builds gates, 19; - obtains statutes for Gonville and Caius College, and becomes Master, - 19; - charged with atheism and Romanism, 20; - books and vestments burnt, 20; - writes on British Dogs, 21; - account of Bloodhound, 21, 22; - writes Method of Healing, 22; - death and burial, 23; - inscription on tomb, 23. - - Calvin, i. 28. - - Cambridge University, and Linacre, i. 3, 11; - and Caius, 14, 19, 20, 23; - and Sydenham, 60; - and Chambers, ii. 59; - and Watson, 149. - - Canadian Indians and Jenner, i. 194. - - Carlisle, Sir Anthony, i. 146, 155, 248, ii. 32. - - Caroline, Princess (wife of George IV.), ii. 65. - - Carro, Dr. De, i. 182. - - Carter, Elizabeth, ii. 267. - - CARTER, R. BRUDENELL (_b._ 1828); - education, 268; - early works, 268; - Crimean service, 268; - country practice, 269; - connection with journalism, 269; - ophthalmic specialism, 269; - Treatise on Eye Diseases, 270; - later writings, 270, 271. - - Celsus, i. 14. - - CHAMBERS, WILLIAM FREDERIC (1786-1855); - education, ii. 59; - physician to St. George’s Hospital, 59; - physician to William IV., 60; - death, 60; - character and habits, 61. - - Chandler, Mr., on Astley Cooper, i. 218. - - Charles I., i. 35-39. - - Charlesworth and Lunacy, ii. 220. - - Cheselden, i. 76, 77, 120, 134. - - Cholera, ii. 128. - - CHRISTISON, Sir R. (1797-1882), ii. 42; - education at Edinburgh, 286; - studies in London and Paris, 286; - appointed Professor of Medical Jurisprudence at Edinburgh, 286; - his success in lecturing, 287; - success as scientific witness, 287; - dangerous experiments, 288; - work on poisons, 288; - appointed Professor of Materia Medica, 289; - influence in Edinburgh University, 289; - honours, 290; - death, 290; - personal characteristics, 290. - - Circulation of the blood, i. 27-36. - - Civiale’s operation, ii. 196. - - Clarke, Dr., and J. Hunter, i. 150. - - Clark, Sir James, ii. 181. - - Clay, Dr. C., ii. 109, 110. - - Clay, John, ii. 112. - - Cleopatra’s Needle, ii. 247. - - Clerke, Dr., i. 89. - - Clift, W., i. 157, 160, 168, 220. - - Cline, Henry, i. 144, 146, 180, 203, 204, 206, 212, 226. - - Clinical lectures, i. 92, 93, 103, 250, ii. 38, 172, 206, 213. - - —— medicine, ii. 162. - - COBBOLD, T. SPENCER (_b._ 1828); - early life, ii. 255; - studies at Edinburgh, 255; - geological studies, 255, 256; - appointments in London, 256; - dissections at Zoological Gardens, 256; - practice as a specialist, 257; - connection with Veterinary College, 257; - lectures on parasites, 258, 259. - - Cod-liver oil, ii. 186, 187, 210, 211. - - Colet, i. 3. - - Collyer, Robert, and anæsthetics, ii. 96, 97. - - Columbus, Realdus, i. 14, 29. - - Combe, William, i. 130, 131. - - Comparative anatomy, i. 80. - - CONOLLY, JOHN (1794-1867), ii. 160, 217; - early life, 221; - enters militia, 221; - studies at Edinburgh, 222; - practises at Chichester, 222; - at Stratford, 222; - appointed Professor at London University, 222; - settles at Warwick, 222; - studies insanity, 222, 223; - work on Indications of Insanity, 223; - appointed to Hanwell, 225; - abolishes mechanical restraint, 226; - clinical lectures, 227; - interest in patients, 228; - retirement from Hanwell, 228; - at Earlswood Asylum, 229, 230; - private practice, 230; - writings and lectures, 231; - writes on Hamlet, 231; - death, 231. - - Conservative surgery, ii. 47, 71-81. - - Consumption Hospital, ii. 185. - - _Contemporary Review_, ii. 197, 198. - - Cooper, Bransby, i. 209, 221, 222. - - Cooper family, the, i. 202. - - COOPER, Sir ASTLEY (1768-1841), i. 113, 146, 152; - early life, 202; - escapades, 203; - pupilage with Cline, 203; - studies at Edinburgh, 204; - becomes lecturer, 204; - visit to Paris, 204; - his style of lecturing, 205; - a severe accident, 206; - his personal influence, 206; - appearance and habits, 207; - sympathy with mental suffering, 207; - his servant Charles, 208; - Cooper and the resurrectionists, 208; - their extortions, 209; - his determination to have specimens, 210; - dissection of dogs, 211; - of an elephant, 211; - income, 211; - gives up politics on appointment to Guy’s surgeoncy, 212; - operates on tympanic membrane, 212; - membership of societies, 213; - his store of information, 214; - operations for aneurism, 214; - work on Hernia, 214; - life in New Broad Street, 215; - in the hospital and lecture-room, 216; - his overpowering influence, 217; - graceful operations, 218; - peremptory orders, 218; - a big fee, 219; - his limited pharmacopœia, 219; - lectures at College of Surgeons, 220; - ties the aorta, 220; - operates on George IV., 221; - Sir Astley as an examiner, 221; - foundation of Guy’s separate medical school, 222; - Presidency of the College of Surgeons, 222; - life in the country, 223; - horse-keeping, 223; - temporary retirement, 223; - later works, 224; - rapid movements, 224; - death, monument and portrait, 225; - estimate of Cooper, 225; - his own character of himself, 226; - and Abernethy, 235; - and Charles Bell, 248; - and Brodie, 295, 296. - - Cooper, William, i. 203, 212. - - Cornelio Vitelli, i. 2. - - CORRIGAN, Sir DOMINIC (1802-1880); - education and medical studies, ii. 155; - papers on heart diseases, 156, 157; - Corrigan’s pulse, 156, 157; - appointments, 158; - becomes M.P. for Dublin, 159; - death, 159. - - Coulton, ii. 97. - - Cowley on Harvey, i. 39. - - Coxe, Dr. Thomas, i. 53. - - Cremation, ii. 116, 117, 194, 198, 199. - - Cromwell, i. 73. - - Cruickshank, i. 127, 130, 149. - - CULLEN, WILLIAM (1710-1790); - birth, i. 87; - education at Glasgow, 87; - apprenticeship, 88; - goes to West Indies as ship’s surgeon, 88; - assists in a London shop, 88; - begins practice, 88; - receives a legacy, 88; - further studies at Edinburgh, 88; - friendship of Duke of Hamilton, 89; - influences William Hunter, 89; - marriage, 89; - removal to Glasgow, 89; - founds medical school there, 90; - his lectures and discoveries, 90, 91; - becomes Professor of Medicine at Glasgow, 91; - friendship with Adam Smith and David Hume, 91; - appointed Professor of Chemistry at Edinburgh, 91; - his clinical lectures, 92; - his candour, 92, 93; - letter to his son, 94, 95; - appointed to Chair of Physic, 95; - his works, 96; - personal influence, 96, 97; - kindness to students, 97; - Cullen and John Brown, 98; - death, 98; - personal aspect and habits, 98; - agreement with Gregory, 100; - friendship with William Hunter, 91, 94, 120, 122. - - Czermak, ii. 251. - - - Dancaster, William, i. 13. - - Darwin, Charles, anticipation of, i. 172. - - Davy, Sir Humphrey, i. 172, ii. 95, 96. - - Dogs, Caius on, i. 21. - - Donders, ii. 260. - - Donellan, Captain, trial of, i. 150. - - Douglas, Dr., i. 120, 121. - - Down, Dr. Langdon, on Conolly, ii. 229. - - Drummond, George, i. 78. - - Dublin Medical School, ii. 105, 155, 189-191, 201-208. - - Duncan, Dr., on Monro _secundus_, i. 85, 86. - - - Edinburgh University and Medical School, i. 71-118, 204, 213, 224, - 259, 260; ii. 2, 15, 25-28, 35-50, 56, 59, 63, 64, 73, 85-94, - 99-103, 125, 130, 131, 138, 149, 155, 204, 210-216, 221, 222, - 286, 289. - - Edward VI., i. 14. - - Elizabeth, Queen, i. 14, 18, 23. - - Elliot, Robert, Professor of Anatomy at Edinburgh, i. 75. - - Ent, Sir G., i. 40, 41. - - Erasmus, i. 3, 4, 5. - - Esquirol and lunacy, ii. 220. - - Expectant treatment, i. 59. - - - Fabricius, i. 26, 29. - - Faraday, ii. 96, 181. - - FERGUSON, Sir WILLIAM (1808-1877), and conservative surgery, ii. 71, - 72; - early years, 72; - studies anatomy under Knox, 72, 73; - assists Knox, 73; - his Edinburgh appointments, 73; - removal to London, 74; - operative skill, 74, 75; - conservation of limbs, 75; - lithotomy, 76; - excision of joints, 76, 77; - hare-lip and cleft-palate, 77; - invents instruments, 78; - careful planning of operations, 78, 79; - “Practical Surgery,” 79; - social character and manners, 80-82; - appointments, 81; - President of College of Surgeons, 81; - death, 82. - - Fever Hospital, London, ii. 118, 119, 124, 131, 132. - - Fevers, Sydenham’s method of curing, i. 54; - treatment of, 64. - - Fisher, Robert, i. 3. - - Flogging of Soldiers, i. 281. - - Flourens, i. 283. - - Foot, Jesse, on John Hunter, i. 135. - - _Fortnightly Review_, ii. 240, 253. - - Fothergill’s, Dr., collection, i. 130. - - Fox, Bishop of Winchester, i. 4, 11. - - Framingham, William, i. 16. - - French Academy of Sciences, i. 283. - - Fuller, on Caius, i. 20. - - - Galen, i. 7, 8, 14. - - Gardner, E., i. 173, 176, 178. - - Garthshore, Dr., i. 139, 162. - - Generation, Harvey on, i. 34, 39-43. - - George III., i. 127, ii. 54, 57. - - George IV., i. 221, 295, ii. 57. - - Gerhard, Dr., of Philadelphia, ii. 120. - - Germ Theory of Typhoid, ii. 126, 127. - - Gesner and Caius, i. 21. - - GILBERT, WILLIAM (1540-1603), i. 23, 24; - physician to Queen Elizabeth, 23; - writes on the magnet, 24. - - Glasgow University, i. 87, 89, 120, 122, 128. - - Gonville and Caius College, i. 19, 26. - - Gonville Hall, i. 14, 19. - - Goodsir, John, ii. 47, 255. - - GRAVES, R. J. (1795-1853), ii. 189; - studies at Dublin, London, and Edinburgh, 202; - travels on Continent, 202; - intercourse with Turner, 202; - decision when in danger, 203; - description of, by Stokes, 203; - appointments in Dublin, 204, 206; - introductory lecture, 204; - his clinical method, 205; - lectures on physiology, 206; - clinical lectures, 206; - Trousseau’s opinion, 206, 207; - views on fevers, 208; - on cholera, 208; - death, 209. - - Gregory family, i. 87, 99-108. - - Gregory, Henry, on Marshall Hall, i. 277. - - GREGORY, JAMES, Dr. (1753-1821), on Monro _secundus_, i. 83; - early years, 102; - completes his father’s lectures, 102; - studies on the Continent, 102; - practice, 103; - Gregory’s “Conspectus,” 103; - succeeds to Cullen’s chair, 103; - controversies, 103-105; - Gregory and John Bell, 105, 110, 112; - as a teacher and lecturer, 106; - autocracy, 103-107; - philosophical writings, 107. - - GREGORY, JOHN (1724-1773), i. 95; - early years, 99; - studies at Edinburgh, 99; - at Leyden, 99; - elected professor at Aberdeen, 100; - marriage, 100; - settles in London, 100; - recalled to Aberdeen, 100; - removes to Edinburgh, 100; - works, 101; - death, 102. - - Gregory, William, i. 107. - - Grocyn, i. 3, 7. - - GULL, Sir W. W. (_b._ 1816); - studies at Guy’s Hospital, ii. 159; - appointments at Guy’s, 160; - writings, 161; - protest against specialism, 161; - address to British Medical Association, 162; - Harveian oration, 162, 163; - honours, 163, 164; - evidence on intemperance, 164; - view of vivisection, 165, 166. - - Guy, William, ii. 302. - - GUY, W. A. (_b._ 1810); - education, ii. 302; - studies at Guy’s, Cambridge, and on the Continent, 303; - appointed professor at King’s College, London, 303; - studies statistics, 303; - sanitary reforms, 303; - works, 303. - - Guy’s Hospital, i. 202-222, 225, ii. 3-13, 15-21, 159-161, 282, 291. - - Guy’s Hospital Reports, ii. 10, 18, 20, 21, 161, 294. - - - HALFORD, Sir HENRY (1766-1844); - on Baillie, ii. 51; - education, 56; - physician to Middlesex Hospital, 56; - physician to George III., 57; - change of name, 57; - president of College of Physicians, 58; - writings, 58. - - HALL, MARSHALL (1790-1857); - birth, i. 264; - education and apprenticeship, 265; - study at Edinburgh, 265; - lectures on diagnosis, 266; - Continental study, 267; - practice in Nottingham, 267; - work on Diagnosis, 267; - on Symptoms and History of Diseases, 268; - on Loss of Blood, 268; - antagonism to bleeding, 268; - removes to London, 269; - rapid success, 269; - research on circulation refused by Royal Society, 270; - other papers accepted, 270; - study of hybernation, 271; - accident to a manuscript, 271; - research on reflex actions, 272-276; - application to nervous diseases, 273, 274, 276, 277; - persistent attacks on, 274, 275; - second paper rejected by Royal Society, 274; - researches on galvanism and nervous tissues, 275; - replies to mis-statements, 275, 276; - new memoir on Nervous System, 276; - Ready Method in Asphyxia, 277; - his demeanour in practice, 278, 279; - lectures, 279; - at College of Physicians, 280; - British Medical Association, 281; - philanthropic schemes, 281; - visit to America, 282; - writes on Slavery, 282; - Continental tour, and reception in Paris, 283; - suggestions for restoring the apparently drowned, 284; - painful illness and death, 285. - - Hall, Mrs. Marshall, i. 276. - - Hall, Robert, father of Marshall, i. 264. - - Hall, Samuel, brother of Marshall, i. 265. - - Hamilton, Duke of, i. 87, 89, 90. - - Harrison, Treasurer of Guy’s, i. 212, 222, ii. 3. - - Harveian Oration, i. 25, 45, 86, ii. 162. - - HARVEY, WILLIAM (1578-1657); - birth, i. 26; - at Cambridge and Padua, 26; - settles in London, 26; - physician to St. Bartholomew’s, 27; - Lumleian lecturer, 27; - expounds new views on heart and circulation, 27; - Treatise on Motion of Heart and Blood, 30-33; - Harvey called crack-brained, 35; - physician to James I. and Charles I., 35; - travels on the Continent, 36; - attendance on Charles I., 36, 37; - at Edgehill, 37, 38; - at Oxford, 38; - studies hatching of eggs, 38; - appointed Warden of Merton College, 38; - his museum destroyed, 39; - leaves Oxford, 39; - lives with his brothers, 40; - entrusts Treatise on Generation to Dr. Ent, 41; - its publication, 42; - Harvey’s lost medical works, 43; - benefactions to College of Physicians, 44-47; - declines Presidency, 45; - infirmity in old age, 46; - death and burial, 46; - will, 46, 47; - personal character, 47; - personal appearance, 47, 48; - lofty intellectual position, 49; - habits, 49, 50; - Latinity, 50; - memorials in College of Physicians, 50; - William Hunter on, 126; - records of, in St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, ii. 169. - - Harvey’s brothers, i. 26, 40, 46, 50. - - Harwood, Dr., on William Hunter’s library, i. 129. - - Hawkins, Cæsar, ii. 110. - - Hazelwood School, ii. 261. - - Healing, Caius’ Method of, i. 22. - - Helmholtz, ii. 260. - - Henry VII., i. 1, 2, 4. - - Henry VIII., i. 4, 7, 10, 14. - - Herbert, Sidney, ii. 298. - - Hewson, William, i. 84, 126, 138. - - Hill, Gardiner, and Lunacy, ii. 220, 221. - - HINTON, JAMES (1822-1875); - early history, ii. 278, 279; - studies at St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, 280; - foreign voyages, 280; - residence in Jamaica, 280; - intercourse with Toynbee, 281; - early writings, 281; - aural practice, 282; - charm of conversation, 283; - later publications, 284; - death, 284. - - Hinton, J. H., ii. 278. - - Hippocrates, the British, i. 52-70. - - Hobbes of Malmesbury, i. 47. - - Hodgson, Joseph, ii. 261. - - Holland, Lord and Lady, i. 294, ii. 65. - - HOLLAND, Sir HENRY (1788-1873), ii. 15; - early life, 62; - at Glasgow University, 63; - draws up Report on Agriculture of Cheshire, 63; - at Edinburgh, 64; - in society, 64; - travels, 64, 65, 68, 69; - becomes medical attendant to Princess Caroline, 65; - success and moderation, 66; - his great energy, 67; - marriages, 67; - physician to Queen Victoria, 67, 68; - death, 68; - writings, 69; - Recollections of Past Life, 70. - - Home, Sir Everard, i. 141, 143, 148, 152, 154, 158-161, 178, 290, - 291. - - Houstoun, R., ii. 109. - - Humane Society, i. 147, 284. - - Hume, David, i. 91, 102. - - Hunterian Museums. See Museums. - - Hunterian Oration, i. 309. - - HUNTER, JOHN (1728-1793), i. 123, 124, 127, 131; - birth and early years, 133; - visit to Glasgow, 133; - goes to London and assists his brother, 134; - his hospital studies, 134; - short residence at Oxford, 135; - shares his brother’s lectures, 135; - his style of lecturing, 136; - early discoveries, 136; - dissection of animals, 137; - becomes staff-surgeon in army, and goes to Belleisle and Portugal, - 137; - returns home and practises in Golden Square, 138; - want of tact, 138; - his brusqueness, 139; - builds a house at Earl’s Court, and keeps a private menagerie, - 139; - his encounter with leopards, 139; - ruptures his _tendo Achillis_, and studies mode of cure, 140; - elected Fellow of Royal Society, and surgeon to St. George’s - Hospital, 140; - takes a house in Jermyn Street, and receives Jenner as pupil, 141; - marries Miss Home, 141; - his dislike of fashionable parties, 141; - writes on the Teeth, and on digestion of stomach after death, 142; - his principal contributions to the Royal Society, 142, 143; - his indefatigable industry, 143; - punctuality and order, 144; - blunt hospitality, 144; - employs an artist named Bell, 144, 145; - lectures on surgery, 145; - after-dinner habits, 146, 147; - appointed surgeon to the King, 147; - Croonian lectures, 148; - suffers from angina pectoris, 148; - visit to Bath, 148; - emotion at his brother’s death, 149; - his eagerness for specimens, 150; - obtains skeleton of O’Brien, the Irish giant, 150; - evidence on murder of Sir T. Boughton, 150; - Justice Buller’s strictures, 151; - builds museum in Leicester Square, 151; - renewed illness, 152; - portrait by Sir Joshua Reynolds, 153; - ties femoral artery, 153; - experiments on deer’s antlers, 153; - appointed surgeon-general to the army, 154; - Copley medal awarded, 154; - Home assists him, 154; - Hunter writes treatise on Blood, Inflammation, &c., 155; - dispute with hospital governors and surgeons, 155-157; - aid to young students, 155; - discussion at board meeting, and sudden death, 157; - personal appearance, 158; - national vote for his museum, 158; - declined by Physicians, accepted by Surgeons, 158; - Home and Hunter’s papers, 159; - Home burns them, 160; - Hunter the Cerberus of the Royal Society, 161; - his generosity, 162; - his income, 162; - his sense of his own importance, 162; - religious views, 162; - removal of remains to Westminster Abbey, 163; - views on life, 163, 164; - Dr. Moxon on, 165; - Sir James Paget on, 166-168; - Abernethy on, 168; - Clift on, 168; - and Edward Jenner, 170, 171, 176; - and Cline, 203; - and Astley Cooper, 204, 205; - and Abernethy, 228, 241; - and Baillie, ii. 53; - and ovariotomy, 106. - - HUNTER, WILLIAM (1718-1783), i. 84; - becomes Cullen’s pupil, 89; - subsequent friendship with Cullen, 91, 94, 120, 122; - studies at Edinburgh, 120; - goes to London, 120; - studies at St. George’s Hospital, 121; - lectures on anatomy, 121; - lack of means, 122; - enters on obstetric practice, 122; - visits home, 122; - Medical Commentaries and other writings, 123; - disputes as to originality, 123, 127; - is assisted by John Hunter, 124; - excellence as a teacher, 124; - on anatomical controversy, 125; - on Harvey, 126; - called in to the Queen, 126; - chosen professor to the Royal Academy, 127; - Hunter and the Royal Society, 127, 128; - Hunterian Museum (now at Glasgow), 128; - founds anatomical school in Great Windmill Street, 129; - cost and extent of his collection, 129, 130; - leaves it to Baillie, with reversion to Glasgow University, 130; - intends to retire, 130; - dies, 131; - portraits of Hunter, 131; - personal habits and manners, 132; - bequeaths estate to Baillie, 132; - and John Hunter, 134; - and Baillie, ii. 53; - and ovariotomy, 106. - - Hypochondria, Description of, i. 65. - - - India and Jenner, i. 183, 197. - - Infirmary at Edinburgh, i. 78, ii. 26-28, 36-39, 45, 49, 73. - - Jackson, C., ii. 98. - - James I., i. 24, 35. - - Jefferson, President, i. 182. - - Jeffrey, Francis, i. 257, 258, 262. - - JENNER, EDWARD (1749-1823), i. 141, 148; - apprenticeship, 169; - inoculation for small-pox, 170; - becomes John Hunter’s pupil, 170; - their mutual influence, 171; - Jenner’s sympathetic qualities, 172; - suggestion about earthworms, 172; - his personal appearance, 173; - wit, poetry, and accomplishments, 174; - convivial societies, 174, 175; - studies cow-pox, 176-180; - publishes discovery of vaccination, 179; - refuses London practice, 180; - Jenner and Dr. Woodville, 181; - discovery made known on Continent, 181; - in United States, 182; - in the East, 183; - Jenner’s patriotic offer, 183; - publishes brief narrative, 184-186; - vaccination by non-professionals, 186; - vaccination attacked, 187; - gratuitous vaccination, 189; - public vaccine Board, 190; - a temple to Jenner, 191; - the Empress of Russia and Jenner, 191; - Parliamentary grant, 192; - Royal Jennerian Institution, 193; - Treasury delays, 193; - testimony of Canadian Indians, 194; - Napoleon and Jenner, 194; - National Vaccine Establishment, 195; - Jenner’s inward life, 196; - second Parliamentary grant, 196, 197; - gratitude of Europeans in India, 197; - bereavements, 197; - death from small-pox after vaccination, 198; - Jenner’s account, 198; - presentation to the Czar, 199; - death of Mrs. Jenner, 199; - death, 200; - Dr. Baron on, 200, 201. - - Jennerian Society, Royal, i. 190, 193. - - JENNER, Sir WILLIAM (_b._ 1815); - studies and early successes, ii. 118; - papers on Typhoid and Typhus Fevers, 119, 123; - later appointments and writings, 124, 125; - on Parkes, 296, 301. - - Jenner, Stephen, i. 169. - - - Kaye. See Caius. - - Keate, i. 155. - - Keith, T., ii. 102. - - Key. See Caius. - - King’s College, London, ii. 74, 76, 77, 147, 149, 150, 262-264, 304. - - Knox, Robert, ii. 72, 73. - - - Laennec, ii. 5, 181. - - _Lancet, The_, i. 267, 275, 293, 298, 307, 309, 310, ii. 97, 133, 134, - 142, 214, 243, 244, 295. - - Latimer, i. 7. - - LAWRENCE, Sir WILLIAM (1783-1867), - and Brodie, i. 289; - education, 303; - apprenticed - to Abernethy, 303; - appointments at St. Bartholomew’s, 304; - early works, 304; - professor at College of Surgeons, 305; - criticism of Abernethy, 305; - lectures on Man, and controversy thereon, 305-307; - Lawrence yields to the storm, 307; - establishes Aldersgate Medical School, 307; - ophthalmic works, 308; - relations with College of Surgeons, 308; - delivers Hunterian oration, 309; - character of, 310; - death, 311. - - Lenten preacher at Rome, a, i. 115-117. - - Lifeboat Institution, National, and Marshall Hall, i. 284. - - Lilye, i. 12. - - LINACRE, THOMAS (1460-1524), birth, i. 1; - descent, 2; - school-days, 2; - elected fellow of All Souls’, 2; - takes pupils, 2; - travels in Italy, 2; - graduates M.D. at Oxford, 3; - translates the “Sphere” of Proclus, 3; - teaches Erasmus Greek, 3; - becomes Prince Arthur’s tutor, 3; - appointed physician to Henry VIII, 4; - studies theology, 4; - gains preferments, 5; - advises Erasmus, 5; - lectures at Oxford, 6; - receives a flattering address, 6; - translates Aristotle and Galen, 7, 8; - writes on grammar and language, 8; - founds College of Physicians, 8-10; - benefactions to it, 10; - founds lectureships at Oxford and Cambridge, 10-12; - his practical skill, 12; - his personal character, 12; - death, 13; - buried in St. Paul’s, 13; - memorial erected by Caius, 13; - will, 13. - - Lister, Joseph Jackson, F.R.S., ii. 135-137. - - LISTER, Sir JOSEPH (_b_. 1828), ii. 46, 47, 114; - studies, 137; - physiological researches, 137; - professorship at Glasgow, 138; - unhealthy wards, 138-140; - carbolic acid and germs, 141; - the antiseptic system, 141-147; - diminution of pyæmia, 143, 146; - experiment on a calf, 143, 144; - antiseptic gauze, 145; - carbolic spray, 146; - corrosive sublimate, 146; - distinctions conferred upon, 147. - - Liston, Rev. Harry, ii. 24. - - LISTON, ROBERT (1794-1847), education and early years, ii. 24; - medical study in Edinburgh, 25; - in London, 25; - assists Barclay, 25; - lectures on anatomy and surgery, 26; - dissensions at the Royal Infirmary, 26-28; - removes to London, 28; - works on surgery, 28; - as an operator, 29, 30; - his great strength, 30, 31; - his decision, 31; - and the College of Surgeons, 32; - the _Times_ on, 32, 33; - and Syme, 33, 34, 35-37, 39-41; - death, 34; - and Sir J. Simpson, 85; - and chloroform, 98. - - Lizars, Alexander, ii. 49. - - Lizars, John, ii. 39, 48-50, 74, 109. - - Locke, John, i. 62, 63, 70. - - Lombard, Dr. H. C., ii. 119. - - London Hospital, ii. 250-252. - - London University, i. 257, ii. 163, 176, 301. - - Long, St. John, i. 296. - - Lonsdale, Dr., on Dr. Addison, ii. 3, 12, 13. - - Lorenzo de Medici, i. 2. - - Louis, i. 283, ii. 120. - - Lumleian lectures, i. 27, 35, 44. - - Lunacy, ii. 217-235. - - Lymphatics, i. 84. - - - Macilwain on Abernethy, i. 231-233. - - M’Dowell, Ephraim, ii. 107-109. - - M’Kendrick, Dr., on Hughes Bennett, ii. 215, 216. - - MACKENZIE, MORELL (_b._ 1837), on specialism, ii. 240; - early life, 249, 250; - medical study, 250, 251; - Continental studies, 251; - acquaintance with Czermak, 251; - appointments at London Hospital, 251, 252; - work with laryngoscope, 251-254; - becomes a specialist in diseases of the throat, 252; - his various works, 253; - extension of specialism, 253, 254. - - Mackenzie, Stephen, ii. 249, 250, 268. - - Mackenzie’s Travels in Iceland, ii. 15, 64. - - Malpighi, i. 30, note. - - Malthus, i. 61. - - Manchester, Bishop of, on cremation, ii. 117. - - Manutius, Aldus, i. 2, 3. - - Mapletoft, Dr. J., i. 52, 62. - - Mary, Queen, i. 14. - - Materialism, i. 306. - - MAUDSLEY, HENRY (_b._ 1835); - studies in London, ii. 232; - appointed Professor at University College, 233; - writes on Theory of Vitality and on Physiology and Pathology of - Mind, 233; - Gulstonian Lectures on Body and Mind, 234; - case of Victor Townley, 235; - on Responsibility in Mental Disease, 235; - on Pathology of Mind, 235; - on Body and Will, 237, 238. - - Meckel, i. 83. - - Medical and Chirurgical Society, Royal, i. 213, 268, 295, 297, 299, - ii. 11, 123, 187. - - Medical Association, British, i. 281, ii. 45, 81, 124, 290. - - Medical Council, ii. 159, 164, 289. - - Medical Lectures, i. 75, 90, 92, 95, 96, 97, 100, 103, 106, ii. 5, - 17, 133, 150, 158, 160, 183, 189. - - Medical Society, Royal, of Edinburgh, i. 213, 265, ii. 2, 88, 209, - 222. - - _Medical Times_, ii. 77, 293, 294, 297. - - Medicine, British, Foundation of, i. 1-24. - - Menagerie, Tower, i. 137, 211. - - Merton College, Oxford, i. 38, 39. - - Middlesex Hospital, i. 250, 259, ii. 56, 131, 149, 256. - - Minto House Hospital, ii. 38, 39. - - MONRO, ALEXANDER (_primus_) (1697-1767); - birth, i. 75; - education, 75, 76; - appointed Professor of Anatomy, 76; - first lecture, 76; - large classes, 77; - difficulty of obtaining subjects, 77; - building of the infirmary, 78; - clinical lectures, 79; - post mortem examinations, 79; - “Osteology,” 79; - other works, 79; - Comparative Anatomy, 80; - private life, 80; - dresses wounds after Prestonpans, 81; - death, 81; - Professor Struthers on, 81. - - MONRO, ALEXANDER (_secundus_) (1733-1817); - birth, i. 82; - lectures for his father, 82; - Continental travels, 82; - taught by Meckel, 83; - becomes professor, 83; - medical practice, 83; - discoveries on the lymphatic system, 84; - other works, 85; - fondness for the stage, 85; - and for horticulture, 85; - economy of time, 86; - favours vaccination, 86; - death, 87; - John Bell and, 108, 109. - - MONRO, ALEXANDER (_tertius_), i. 86. - - Monro, John, i. 75, 76. - - Montagu, Lady Mary, i. 100. - - Montanus, i. 14. - - Monteith, Alex., i. 73, 74. - - More, Hannah, ii. 178. - - More, Sir T., i. 2, 3, 11. - - Morris, Edward, i. 197. - - Morton, W. T. G., ii. 98. - - Moxon, Dr., on John Hunter, i. 165, 166. - - Müller, Johannes, and Marshall Hall, i. 270. - - MURCHISON, CHARLES (1830-1879), ii. 119; - medical studies, 130, 131; - work in Calcutta and Burmah, 131; - returns to London, 131; - appointments, 131; - work on Continued Fevers, 131-133; - other writings, 133; - his teaching powers, 133; - character, 134. - - Museums, Hunterian, i. 128-130, 151, 158, 159, 163. - - - Napoleon I. and Jenner, i. 194. - - National Vaccine Institution, i. 193, 195. - - Nélaton, ii. 11. - - Nightingale, Miss Florence, ii. 265. - - - O’Brien, skeleton of, i. 150. - - Orfila, ii. 285, 286, 291. - - Ottley, D., on John Hunter, i. 146. - - Ovariotomy, ii. 106-114. - - Oxford University, Linacre and, i. 2, 3, 6, 7, 11; - Harvey and, 38, 39; - Sydenham at, 52-54; - John Hunter at, 135; - and Jenner, 199; - and Baillie, ii. 52; - and Halford, 56. - - Padua, Linacre at, i. 2; - Caius at, 14; - Harvey at, 26. - - PAGET, Sir JAMES (b. 1814), i. 166-168, ii. 72, 114, 143; - early studies, 167; - report on results of use of microscope, 168; - address to students, 168, 169; - professorship at College of Surgeons, 169: - publication of lectures, 170; - conditions of healthy nutrition, 170, 171; - lecture on Study of Physiology, 172; - clinical lectures, 172; - attention to detail, 173; - serious illness, 173, 174; - on Theology and Science, 174; - on alcohol, 175; - appointments, 176; - on the College of Surgeons’ Museum, 176; - on exceptions to types, 177; - on Study of Science, 177. - - Palmer, trial of, i. 284, ii. 287, 288, 294. - - Palmerston, Lord, ii. 66. - - PARKES, E. A. (1819-1875); - Harveian oration, i. 25; - early influences, ii. 296; - studies at University College, 296; - goes to Madras and Moulmein, 297; - practice in London, 297; - journalistic work, 297; - physician to University College Hospital, 297; - serves in Crimean war, 298; - appointed professor at Army Medical School, 298; - Manual of Practical Hygiene, 299; - Army Medical Reports, 300; - Sir W. Jenner on, 301; - death, 302. - - Parry, Dr., and Jenner, i. 197. - - Paterson, Dr., Life of Syme by, ii. 31. - - Pathological Society, ii. 185. - - Pathology, i. 145. - - Pearson, Dr., and vaccination, i. 190, 191. - - Pembroke, Earl of, i. 15. - - Pennock, Dr., of Philadelphia, ii. 120. - - Peruvian bark, i. 59. - - Pettigrew, Dr., on Astley Cooper, i. 216-218; - on Abernethy, 230. - - Petty, Lord H., and vaccination, i. 196. - - Physical Society of Guy’s, i. 213, ii. 6. - - Physicians (Edinburgh), College of, i. 72-73, 76, ii. 289. - - Physicians (Irish), College of, ii. 158, 206. - - Physicians (London), College of, foundation of, i. 1, 8; - letters patent, 9; - new statutes, 10; - Caius and, 15; - insignia of, 17; - dissection, 18; - Harvey Lumleian lecturer at, 27, 35; - declines presidency, 45; - Sydenham and, 61; - and John Hunter’s Museum, 158; - E. Jenner and, 195, 199; - Marshall Hall and, 280; - Bright and, ii. 21; - Baillie and, 53, 55; - Halford and, 56, 58; - W. Jenner and, 124; - Murchison and, 133; - Watson and, 151; - Williams and, 184, 187; - Maudsley and, 234, 238; - Parkes and, 298; - Guy and, 303. - - Pinel, ii. 218, 219. - - Piozzi, Mrs., on Henry Holland, ii. 64. - - Pitcairne, i. 73. - - Pitt, William, i. 158. - - Plempius of Louvain, i. 44. - - Poisons, ii. 4. - - Politian, i. 2. - - Pott, Percival, i. 134, 228. - - Prayer for the sick, ii. 197. - - Prestonpans, i. 81. - - Priestley, Dr., ii. 95. - - - Quacks, i. 16, 17, 58. - - Quain, Jones, ii. 241, 242. - - Queen’s University, Ireland, ii. 158. - - - Reflex action, i. 272-277. - - Reid, John, ii. 85. - - Reid, Thomas, i. 99, 107. - - Resurrectionists, i. 208-211. - - Reynolds, Dr. Russell, i. 276, 295. - - Reynolds’, Sir Joshua, portrait of William Hunter, i. 131; - of John Hunter, 153, 163. - - Richardson, John, i. 257. - - Rinderpest, ii. 129. - - Riolan, John, the younger, i. 33, 36, note. - - Roots, Dr. W., and Astley Cooper, 206. - - Royal Institution, ii. 66, 172. - - Royal Society and William Hunter, i. 127; - and John Hunter, 140, 142, 143, 147, 148, 149, 154; - and Astley Cooper, 212, 213; - and Charles Bell, 253; - and Marshall Hall, 270, 272, 274, 275; - and Brodie, 291, 292, 297, 300; - and Lister, ii. 138, 147; - and Wilson, 244; - and Bowman, 262; - and Toynbee, 273, 275; - and Parkes, 301. - - Russia, Emperor of, i. 195, 199. - - —— Empress of, i. 191. - - - Salm, Count de, and vaccination, i. 191. - - Sandford, Bishop, i. 114. - - Sandys, Bishop, i. 20. - - Scott, Sir Walter, ii. 150. - - Selling, William, fellow of All Souls’, i. 2. - - Servetus, i. 27, 28. - - Shagglyng Lecture, i. 6. - - Sharpe, Samuel, i. 121. - - Shaw, Alexander, i. 249, 257, 258. - - Shaw, John, i. 249, 250, 256. - - Shelburne, Lord, i. 128. - - Short, Dr. T., i. 68. - - Sibbald, Sir R., i. 72, 73, 75. - - Siddons, Mrs., i. 85. - - Simmons, Dr. Foart, on William Hunter, i. 132. - - SIMON, JOHN (_b._ 1816); - student at King’s College, 304; - appointed lecturer at St. Thomas’s Hospital, 304; - medical officer to City of London, 304; - to Board of Health and Privy Council, 304; - Reports to Privy Council, 305; - honours, 306. - - Simpson, Alexander, ii. 84, 86, 89, 104. - - SIMPSON, Sir JAMES Y. (1811-1870); - birth and early years, ii. 83, 84; - student life in Edinburgh, 85; - his father’s death, 86; - disappointed of a parish surgeoncy, 86; - becomes assistant to Professor Thomson, 87; - his first original paper, 88; - description of, when presiding over Medical Society, 88, 89; - visits London and the Continent, 89; - his habits of plain speech, 90; - candidature for professorship of midwifery, 90, 91; - his success, 91, 92; - antiquarian paper on Leprosy, 92; - success in practice, 92, 93; - complaints of neglect, 93; - controversies, 94; - experiments with sulphuric ether, 98; - introduces chloroform, 99; - description of Simpson’s parties, 101; - introduces acupressure, 102; - attacks hospital system, 102; - honours, 103; - bereavements, 103; - death, 104. - - Slavery, Marshall Hall on, i. 282. - - Smith, Adam, i. 91. - - Smith, Henry, and Marshall Hall, i. 271. - - Smith, Henry, and Sir W. Fergusson, ii. 79, 80, 82. - - Smith, Sydney, and Holland, ii. 67, 68. - - Specialism, ii. 161, 239, 240. - - Squirrel, Dr., and vaccination, i. 188. - - St. Andrews University, i. 175. - - St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, i. 27, 36, 134, 304, 307, ii. 149, - 167-169, 176, 286. - - St. George’s Hospital, i. 134, 140, 154-158, 290, 291, ii. 25, 53, - 59, 269, 273. - - St. Mary’s Hospital, ii. 131, 257, 275. - - St. Thomas’s Hospital, i. 204, 205, 211, 212, 216, 218, 219, 221, - 222, 279, ii. 105, 133, 291, 304. - - Stethoscope, the, ii. 5, 60. - - Stewart, Dr. A. P., ii. 120. - - Stewart, Dugald, i. 63, 95. - - STOKES, WILLIAM (1804-1878); - studies in Glasgow and Edinburgh, ii. 188; - writes on the stethoscope, 188; - early success, 189; - work on Diseases of the Chest, 189; - appointed Professor in Dublin University, 189; - work on Diseases of the Heart, 190; - lectures on fever, 191; - on student’s culture, 191; - on prevention of disease, 192; - character by Sir H. Acland, 192; - early rising and geniality, 193; - death, 193; - on Graves, 203, 205. - - Struthers, Professor, on Monro _primus_, i. 81; - on Monro _secundus_, 83, 87; - on John Bell, 111. - - Surgeons, College of, Edinburgh, i. 72, 75, 77, 208, ii. 44, 49, 73 - - Surgeons, College of, London, i. 220, 221, 240, 250, 256, 294, 297, - 304-311, ii. 32, 79, 81, 115, 167, 169, 176, 246, 249, 271, - 305. - - Surgical Lectures, i. 79, 109, 131, 138, 145, 154, 156, 205, 229, - 246, 247, 291, ii. 25, 28, 36, 37, 48, 49, 79. - - Sutherland, James, i. 72. - - Sweating Sickness, i. 15. - - Sydenham College, i. 279, ii. 242. - - —— Society, New, ii. 187, 189. - - SYDENHAM, THOMAS (1624-1689); - birth, i. 52; - at Oxford, 52; - led to choose medicine by Dr. Coxe, 53; - escapes when shot at in London, 53; - returns to Oxford, 54; - removes to London, 54; - publishes method of curing fevers, 54; - his principles, 55; - philosophic views, 56; - ideas of disease, 57; - views on nature’s order, 58; - on quacks and culpable secrecy, 58; - on Peruvian bark, 59; - Dr. J. Brown on the “Method,” 59, 60; - subsequent editions, 60; - becomes M.D., 61; - treatise on gout and dropsy, 61; - death, 61; - will, 61; - medicine learnt by practice, 62; - his opinion of Locke, 62; - experimental medicine, 63; - attention to wishes of patients, 64; - on hysteria and hypochondria, 65; - Sydenham’s character of himself, 66; - his humour, 66, 67; - kindheartedness, 67; - calumnies on, 68; - his Rational Theology, 69; - his religious feelings, 69, 70. - - Sydenham, William, i. 52. - - SYME, JAMES (1799-1870); - and Liston, ii. 25-27, 31, 33, 34; - education and early years, 35; - discovers waterproofing process, 35; - assists Liston, 36; - amputation at the hip-joint, 36; - studies in Germany, 36; - Brown Square Medical School, 36; - surgical lectures, 37; - starts Minto House Hospital, 38; - clinical lectures, 38; - Liston’s jealousy, 39; - gains professorship of surgery, 39; - reconciliation with Liston, 40; - Syme’s controversies, 40; - writings, 41, 44, 45; - brief removal to London, 41-43; - great operations, 44; - Principles of Surgery, 44; - address to British Medical Association, 45; - Battle of the Sites, 45; - private life, 46; - on antiseptic method, 46; - testimonial dinner, 47; - Professor Lister on, 48; - and Fergusson, 73, 75, 76. - - - TAYLOR, A. SWAINE (1806-1880); - education, ii. 291; - medical studies, 291; - studies chemistry and medical jurisprudence, 291; - appointed to lecture at Guy’s, 292; - papers and writings, 292, 293; - appearance as witness, 294; - the Palmer trial, 294; - death, 294. - - Theology, Sydenham’s Rational, i. 69. - - THOMPSON, Sir HENRY (_b._ 1820); - studies in London and Paris, ii. 195; - twice wins Jacksonian prize, 195; - appointments at University College, 195, 196; - Clinical Lectures, 195; - Practical Lithotomy and Lithotrity, 195; - Civiale’s operation, 196; - attends King of the Belgians, 196; - controversy on Prayer for the Sick, 197; - on cremation, 198, 199; - on use of intoxicants, 200; - on Food and Feeding, 200; - artistic tastes, 200. - - Thomson, Prof. A. T., ii. 296, 297. - - Thomson, Prof. John, ii. 87, 90. - - Thornhill, Sir James, i. 61. - - _Times, The_, on Liston, ii. 32, 33. - - Todd, R. B., ii. 262-264. - - Tonstal, i. 11. - - Tower Menagerie and John Hunter, i. 137; - and Astley Cooper, 211. - - TOYNBEE, JOSEPH (1815-1866); - education, 273; - medical study, 273; - researches on the eye, 273; - aural practice, 274; - Asylum for Deaf and Dumb, 274; - researches and dissections, 275; - appointment to St. Mary’s Hospital, 275; - ventilation hobby, 275, 276; - Hints on Local Museums, 276; - artificial tympanic membrane, 276; - melancholy death, 277; - intercourse with Hinton, 281. - - Travers, Mr., on Astley Cooper, 207. - - Treatment, expectant, i. 59. - - Trousseau, ii. 6, 11; - on Graves, 206, 207. - - Tuke family and lunacy, ii. 219, 220, 231. - - Turner, J. M. W., ii. 202. - - Typhoid and Typhus Fevers, ii. 119-133. - - - University College, London, i. 257, ii. 28, 41-43, 118, 124, 137, - 149, 183, 195, 196, 222, 232, 233, 273, 296-298. - - - Vaccination, i. 178-200. - - Vaccine Institution, National, i. 193, 195. - - Vaughan family, the, ii. 55, 56. - - Vaughan, Henry. See Halford, Sir Henry. - - Vesalius, i. 14. - - Victoria, Queen, i. 311, ii. 57, 60, 67, 68, 81, 124, 151, 158, 164, - 176, 188, 196. - - Vitelli, Cornelio, i. 2. - - Vivisection, i. 252, 271-275, 292, ii. 143, 165, 265. - - - Wakley, Thomas, ii. 243, 245. - - Walker, Dr., and vaccination, i. 193. - - Wallis, John, ii. 267. - - Warren, Dr. J. C., and anæsthetics, ii. 98. - - Waterhouse, Prof., i. 182. - - Waterloo, Charles Bell at, i. 250. - - WATSON, Sir THOMAS (1792-1882), ii. 128; - education, 148; - elected fellow of St. John’s, Cambridge, 149; - medical studies in Edinburgh and London, 149; - becomes proctor at Cambridge, 149; - removes to London, 149; - appointments, 149, 150; - and Sir Walter Scott, 150; - lectures published, 150; - honours, 151; - Introductory Lecture, 151-153; - Dr. West on, 153; - British Medical Journal on, 154; - death, 155. - - Webb Street School of Medicine, i. 279. - - Wells, Horace, ii. 97. - - West, Dr. C., on Sir T. Watson, ii. 153. - - Westfaling, Thomas, i. 179. - - WELLS, Sir T. SPENCER (_b._ 1818), - on Sir W. Fergusson, ii. 72; - student life in Leeds, Dublin, and London, 105; - joins Samaritan Hospital, 106; - experience in Crimean war, 110; - early experiences in ovariotomy, 111, 112; - stringent precautions, 113; - great successes, 113, 114; - adopts antiseptic system, 114; - on surgery as salvaging, 115; - municipal and state questions, 116; - on cremation, 117. - - Whytt, Andrew, i. 95, 100, 273. - - Wilkes, John, i. 100. - - Wilks, Dr., on Dr. Addison, ii. 8-11; - on Dr. Bright, 18. - - William IV., i. 224, 259, 295, ii. 57, 60. - - WILLIAMS, CHARLES J. B. (_b._ about 1800); - early education, ii. 178; - scientific experiments, 179; - studies at Edinburgh, 179; - chemical researches, 180; - studies in London and Paris, 180; - work on Stethoscope, 181; - settles in London, 181; - early writings, 182; - sounds of heart, 182; - Lectures at Kinnerton Street, 183; - reports to British Association, 183; - becomes Professor at University College, 183; - Gulstonian lectures, 184; - physician to Hospital for Consumption, 185; - Principles of Medicine, 185; - first president of Pathological Society, 185; - work on Cod-Liver Oil, 186, 187; - presidency of New Sydenham Society, and of Medical and Chirurgical - Society, 187; - studies in retirement, 188. - - WILSON, ERASMUS (1809-1884); - early life, ii. 240, 241; - studies under Abernethy, and in Paris, 241; - pupil of Langstaff, 241; - joins Aldersgate School of Medicine, 241; - assists Quain at University College, 242; - establishes Sydenham College, 242; - writes the Dissector’s Manual and Anatomist’s Vade Mecum, 242; - acquaintance with Thomas Wakley, and appointment on _The Lancet_, - 243; - becomes a specialist in skin diseases, 243; - portraits of diseases of skin, 244; - Continental studies, 244; - character in practice, 244, 245; - the case of flogging at Hounslow, 245; - various works, 246; - founds professorship of dermatology, 246; - and of pathology, 246; - becomes President of College of Surgeons, 247; - pays for bringing Cleopatra’s Needle to London, 247; - his great munificence, 248; - bequest to College of Surgeons, 249; - death, 249. - - Wilson, i. 249, 256, 290, 291. - - Windmill Street School, i. 129, 140, 156, 249, 256, 290, 291, ii. 59. - - Wolsey, Cardinal, i. 4, 8. - - Wood, Alexander, i. 108. - - Woodville, Dr., and vaccination, i. 181, 187. - - - Yelloly, Dr., on Astley Cooper, i. 214. - - York, Duke of, and Abernethy, i. 234. - - - Zoological Society, i. 274. - - - - - Transcriber’s Note - - pg viii (table of contents) Preface page should be v not vii - pg 2 Changed His schooldays were passed to: school-days - pg 16 added period to end of sentence: and of muscular exercise - pg 42 changed comma to period at: from which they have sprung - pg 163 added semicolon to: as a great chemist - pg 163 changed but be appears to: but he appears - pg 228 changed spelling of St. Batholomew’s to: St. Bartholomew’s - pg 233 changed double quotes around lectured to single quotes: going - to be lectured - pg 294 Changed Now-a-days subcutaneous operations to: Nowadays - pg 304 changed spelling of Upsala to: Professor at Uppsala - Added Index from volume 2. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EMINENT 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-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -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. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - 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. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that: - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website 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. |