/ -<*' J M&& "- >>' > . i - :>* ^ /&>> UCSB LIBKAKY WILLIAM HABVEY, -rINAL IN T^E COJ.I.EG-E OF rHTSIClAN LIVES BRITISH PHYSICIANS. LINACRE. CAIUS. HARVEY. BROWNE. SYDENHAM. RADCLIFFE. MEAD. HUXHAM. PRINGLE. FOTHERGILL. HEBERDEN. CULLEN. HUNTER. WARREN. BAILLIE. JENNER. PARRY. GOOCH. NOW FOR THE FIRST TIME ADDED : MERRIMAN. I PARIS. HALFOR0. I CHAMBERS. CLUTTERBUCK. FOUR PORTRAITS. LONDON: WILLIAM TEGG AND Co., 85, QUEEN STREET, CHEAPSIDE. 1857. LONDON: HADDON, BROTHERS, AND CO., PalNTEBJS, CASTLE STREET, FINSBUBY. THOMAS MAYO, M.D., F.R.S., President of the Royal College of Physicians, &-c. WITH SENTIMENTS OF THE UTMOST RESPECT FOB HIS HIGH INTELLECTUAL ENDOWMENTS, PROPOUND ATTAINMENTS, AND DISTINGUISHED POSITION, Folunu is Inscribed BY HIS OBEDIENT SERVANT, THE EDITOR. PREFACE. "A PHYSICIAN in a great city (says Johnson in his Life of Akenside) seems to be the mere plaything of Fortune ; his degree of reputation is, for the most part, totally casual ; they that employ him, know not his excellence ; they that reject him know not his deficience. By any acute observer, who had looked on the transactions of the medical world for half a century, a very curious book might be written on the 'fortune of physicians.'" There can be no question, that from physic as from every other profession, examples may be brought in which talent has not ensured success, but, on the contrary, the caprice of Fortune been fully shown. In the Lives which follow, however, the celebrity obtained in the world has alone been the guide of selection ; and the perusal of the volume, it is hoped, will satisfy the youthful VI PREFACE. reader, that the gloomy observation of the great moralist must be received as pointing, not to the rule, but to the exceptions ; and that, generally speaking, in this course of active life, as in others, the long labour of preparatory study, anxious dili- gence of observation, and conscientious assiduity in practice, are crowned with all the distinctions which generous ambition aspires to reach. The important services rendered to the general literature and science of the country by some of the busiest members of this busy profession, are dwelt upon in these pages with just pride, though by no means in such detail as the subject might claim ; nor perhaps could any other walk of exer- tion furnish a larger proportion of names eminent for intellectual zeal and power, which, have also deserved to be handed down for moral dignity of character, piety to God, and benevolence to man. PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. SINCE the publication of the first edition of this work, several eminent British Physicians have terminated their useful and honourable careers. Amongst these are the five whose memoirs are added to the original volume, and appear in this, the second edition. For the memoirs of Sir Henry Halford and Dr. Paris, the Editor is indebted to Dr. Munk, the Librarian of the Royal College of Physicians. That of Sir Henry Halford is ex- tracted from the " Roll of the Royal College of Phy- sicians," a MS. in three large volumes, compiled and presented to the College by Dr. Munk. The Life of Dr. Paris is a reprint with Dr. Munk's permission, of his recently published memoir of that distinguished Physician. The Editor is responsible for the lives of Merriman, Chambers, and Clutter- buck. No alterations have been made in the memoirs which constituted the first edition of the work. CONTENTS. Page LINACRE 1 CATUS 15 HARVEY 31 BROWNE 60 SYDENHAM 84 RADCLIFFE 112 MEAD 155 HUXHAM 168 PRINGLE 172 FOTHERGILL 183 HEBERDEN 198 CULLEN 204 HUNTER 217 WARREN . . 235 BAILLIE 241 JBNNER 252 PARRY , : !*'* V~" , 275 GOOCH .... ,*;.' ffr . . 305 MERRIMAN 342 HALFORD 360 PARIS '. :ZL . i: ' . . 369 CHAMBERS . , , '.'' '-'-<' " : 388 CLUTTERBUCK. . . .-,! . 403 TO THE BINDER. Portrait of HARVEY .... to face title. Sir THOMAS BROWNE . page 60 CULLEN 204. JENNER 252. LIYES OP BRITISH PHYSICIANS. LINACRE. THE life of this great man is so intimately connected with the revival of learning in Europe, with the introduction of the Greek language into England and with the first establishment of a rational practice of physic in this country, that it must he ' equally interesting to the general scholar and to the student of medicine. Thomas Linacre was horn at Canterbury in the year ]4GO, was educated at Oxford, where he was elected Fellow of All Souls' College, and went afterwards, for his further improvement, into Italy, whither he accompanied an embassy, sent by Henry VII. to the court of Rome. At Florence he was fortunate enough to attract the attention and secure the patronage of Lorenzo de Medici, whose princely and liberal spirit had procured for him the title of the Magnificent ; and whose own vigorous imagination and elegant style en- title him almost exclusively to the appellation of the restorer of Italian literature. In patro- nizing learning and learned men, Lorenzo had, Z BRITISH PHYSICIANS. however, only followed the example of his grandfather, Cosmo de Medici, who had, some years before, established at Florence an academy expressly for the cultivation of the Platonic Phi- losophy, and had collected from all parts ("by means of foreign correspondents) manuscripts of the Greek, Latin, and oriental languages, which formed the foundation of the Laurentian Library. Cosmo died in 1464, at the age of seventy-five, and was succeeded by Lorenzo, who, without affecting the title of sovereign prince, reigned at Florence in the greatest splendour, and adorned the city with the most costly and noble edifices. He assembled around him the most ingenious and learned persons of the age ; and, to increase the treasures already collected by his predecessor, em- ployed John Lascaris, at his own expense, to pro- cure the writings of the ancients in Greece and Asia Minor. Angelo Poliziano was the teacher of the children of Lorenzo, and when Linacre arrived at Florence, he was allowed the privilege of at- tending the lessons of the same preceptor. He began the study of Greek under Demetrius Chal- condylas, who had fled from Constantinople, when it was captured by the Turks. This event, so im- portant in its consequences, had taken place in 14;>3 ; and the Greeks, among whom some re- mains of learning were still preserved, being scat- tered by these barbarians, took shelter in Italy, and imported, together with their admirable lan- guage, a tincture of their science, and of their refined taste in poetry and eloquence. These un- fortunate refugees had found a welcome reception under the roof of Cosmo de Medici; and in re- LIXACRE. 3 turn had instructed the Florentines in reading and comprehending those writings of the ancient Greeks whom Boccaccio had taught them to ad- mire. For, even so early as the middle of the four- teenth century, this last celebrated man had intro- duced a love of the Greek language amongst the Italians, had founded at Florence a chair for the teaching of it, and placed in it one of the most learned of the Greeks of Constantinople. The name of this early professor was Lcontius Pilatus, whom Boccaccio received into his own house (though he is represented as a man of very dis- agreeable and unaccommodating manners) ; sup- ported him during his stay at Florence ; entered himself as one of his first scholars ; and procured, at his own expense, the Greek MSS. which were employed in the lectures of the professor. For, as this was before the invention of the art of printing, the lecturer read aloud from his own copy, which was perhaps the only one of the author (possessed by the class) upon whom he was making commentaries to a very numerous auditory. The knowledge, however, of this co- pious and beautiful language must have been confined to a few, till after the capture of Constan- tinople, the consequent dispersion of the Greeks, and, more especially, till after the invention of printing. Without the aid of printing, learning could never have become accessible to the bulk of the people; and without the. demand for books, which learning occasions, the art of printing itself might, to this day, have been classed among the useless contrivances invented by ingenious vision- aries. The impatience manifested, at the time we B 2 4 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. speak of, to possess the lost treasures of antiquity, thus opportunely helped to demonstrate the value of this new medium of communication. Printing has made books infinitely more accessible to all classes of persons in point of expense causes them to be more easily read and apprehended and enables information to be circulated with a degree of rapidity of which, in ancient times, there is no example. This important discovery, which facili- tated the progress of letters so immensely, was not introduced into Italy till 1465 ; and when Linacre was studying Greek under Demetrius Chalcon- dylas, that scholar must have been superintending the printing of the edition of Homer, published at Florence in 1488.* The opportunities Linacre enjoyed under the patronage of Lorenzo, he turned to the best advantage ; and when he quitted Flo- * A copy of this valuable work is in the library of the College of Physicians ; and it is not improbable that Demetrius may have em- ployed the young Linacre, the future founder of the college, to look over the proof-sheets of this curious edition. What could have been a better exercise for the young student? A great authority in matters of this sort, Dibdin, speaks of this edition in the following terms : " Homerus, Chalcondylae. Florent. fol. 1488. Grace, 2 vol. Editio princeps. This is one of the most celebrated publications of the fifteenth century, well known to bibliographers, and to be found in all the libraries of the curious. This immortal work (for such a production at such an early period of typography well merits the appellation) was composed and executed by the care, application, and at the expense of Demetrius Chalcondyla, an Athenian, and Demetrius of Crete." Mr. Palmer, in his History of Printing, thus observes on it : " This excellent work I have seen in the curious library of Dr. Mead ; and I dare affirm, that whoever examines the whiteness and strength of the paper, the fineness of the character, the elegant disposition of the matter, the exact distance between the lines, the large margin, and, in short, the whole performance, with its various ornaments, will easily own it a masterpiece in that kind." LINACRE. .') rence he proceeded to Rome, and there studied medicine and natural philosophy under Hermolaus Barbaras. He applied himself particularly to the study of Aristotle and Galen ; and the knowledge he had acquired in the classical capital of Tuscany enabled him to read these authors in their own language ; indeed, he is said to have been the first Englishman who made himself master of these writers by perusing them in the original Greek. Having previously graduated at Padua, Linacre returned to England, was incorporated M.D. at Oxford, gave temporary lectures on physic, and taught the Greek language in that university.* This was before the foundation of a regular pro- fessor's chair at Oxford : for it was Cardinal Wolsey who first established a chair for teaching Greek in that university, a novelty, which is said to have rent that celebrated seat of learning into violent factions, that frequently came to blows. Here, amidst the groves of the academy, the stu- dents divided themselves into parties, bearing the names of Greeks and Trojans, which sometimes fought with an animosity as great as was formerly exercised by those hostile nations themselves. In- deed, to such an absurd extreme was this contest carried, that a new and more correct method ot pronouncing Greek having been introduced, the Grecians themselves were divided into parties ; av.d it was remarked that the Catholics favoured the former pronunciation, while the Protestants gave countenance to the new. Gardiner employed the authority of the king and council to suppress in- * Sir Thomas More, then an undergraduate of Canterbury College, which now forms part of Christ Church, was one of his pupils.. 6 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. novations in this particular, and to preserve the corrupt sound of the Greek alphabet, so little liberty was then allowed of any kind ! The pe- nalties inflicted upon the new pronunciation, were no less than whipping, degradation, and expulsion ; and the bishop declared that, rather than permit the liberty of innovating in the pronunciation of the Greek alphabet, it was better that the language itself were totally banished the university. Notwithstanding the ridicule of this officious and misplaced zeal in so trivial a matter, it is im- possible not to pause for a moment, and reflect how important an event was the taking of Con- stantinople, and the subsequent diffusion of the language and learning of the Greeks over the hitherto barbarous nations of Europe ; more espe- cially when we view it as connected with the other mighty changes which either preceded, or almost immediately followed it. The discovery of both the Indies, the invention of the art of printing, of gunpowder, and the great innovations effected in religion, combined to make so general a revolution in human affairs, that commerce, arts, science, and government, all received at this period an impulse towards improvement, from which they have never yet receded. But to return to Linacre. On his settling in England, his reputation became so high, that king Henry VII. called him to court, and en- trusted him with the care both of the health and education of his son, Prince Arthur. Linacre is said also to have instructed Princess Catharine in the Italian language. As the prince died at six- teen years of age, this important trust could not LINACRE. 7 have long been enjoyed by him ; but he probably continued his instruction of the Spanish princess for many years. The Infanta, we know, instead of returning to her father, Ferdinand, was con- tracted, after the death of his elder brother, to Prince Henry, and lived long enough to regret the mercenary policy of the king, who, it is said, was induced to form this ill-omened alliance, by his unwillingness to return Catharine's dowry, amounting to two hundred thousand ducats. The reputation of Linacre, employed as a court physician, continued to increase, and in the reign of Henry VIII. he appears to have stood above all rivalship at the head of his profession. Be- sides his medical skill, his attainments as a scholar must have mainly contributed to his eminence ; for the countenance given to letters by Henry VIII. and his ministers, rendered learning fashionable in England. Erasmus speaks, with great satisfac- tion, of the general regard shown at this time in Britain by the nobility and gentry to men of knowledge. Writing to one of his correspondents from Brussels "Literature," says he, "would triumph here also, if we had in this country a prince like the king of England, who, well in- formed himself, and of an acute understanding, openly protects men of letters ; besides the Cardi- nal of York ( Wolsey) encourages, by every means in his power, a love of letters, as also does the Reverend the Cardinal Campeggio, who is himself an excellent and most learned man. The palace of the king of England," he concludes, " contains more men of erudition than any academy." Linacre employed the wealth and influence 8 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. which his station afforded him, to promote the in- terests of science and the welfare of the public. He founded two lectures on physic in the Univer- sity of Oxford, and one in that of Cambridge. The endowment at Oxford was left to Merton College ; and the Cambridge lecture was given to St. John's College. But the great glory of Linacre was, that he projected and accomplished a most important ser- vice to medicine, by the institution of the Royal College of Physicians in London. He had beheld with concern the practice of physic chiefly en- grossed by illiterate monks and empirics ; a na- tural consequence of commiting the power of ap- proving and licensing practitioners to the bishops in their several dioceses, who certainly must have been very incompetent judges of medical ability. To strike at the root of -this evil, he therefore ob- tained, by his interest with Cardinal Wolsey, let- ters patent from Henry VIII., dated in the year 1518, constituting a corporate body of regular- bred physicians, in London, in whom should re- side the sole privilege of admitting persons to practise within that city, and a circuit of seven miles round it. To use the words of the charter of the college : " Before this period, a great multitude of ignorant persons, of whom the greater part had no insight into physic, nor in any other kind of learning; some could not even read the letters on the book, so far forth, that common artificers, as smiths, weavers, and women, boldly and accustomably took upon them great cures, to the high displea- sure of God, great infamy of the faculty, and the LINACRE. 9 grievous hurt, damage, and destruction of many of the king's liege people." This was the state of things before the foundation of the College of Physicians. Afterwards, it is true, empirics were occasionally treated in the most summary man- ner, and their dealings with the credulous must have been wicked and gross, to have deserved such a punishment as the following, recorded by StoAv, in his Chronicles : " A counterfeit doctor," says he, " was set on horseback, his face to the horse's tail, the same tail in his hand as a bridle, a collar of jordans about his neck, a whetstone on his breast, and so led through the city of London with ring- ing of basins, and banished. Such deceivers," continues the chronicler, "no doubt, are many, who, being never trained up in reading or practice of physick and chirurgery, do boast to doe great cures, especially upon women, as to make them straight that before were crooked, corbed, or crumped in any part of their bodies, c. But the contrary is true ; for some have received gold, when they have better deserved the whetstone." On the establishment of the College, which was to put an end to those and similar abuses, Linacre was elected the first president, and continued in that ofhce during the remainder of his life, about seven years. The assemblies of the College were held at his own house in Knight Rider's-street, which he bequeathed to them at his death. It may here be observed, with propriety, that the founda- tion of the College of Physicians has had the most useful and beneficial results. By their charter, they are empowered to examine medical candi- dates after a certain period of study, and, upon ]() BKITISH PHYSICIANS. their giving proofs of competency, to authorize them to practise medicine. A system has conse- quently been constructed for the public service, which has now been carried on for more than three centuries, by which the character and respectability of physicians, and through them of the whole medical profession, has been raised to a higher eminence than in any other nation of Europe. Towards the latter part of his life, Linacre en- tered into holy orders, the motives to which step are not a little dubious. If, as some assert, the only benefice conferred upon him, was a chanter- ship in the cathedral of York, it would be most obvious to suppose that a devout regard for the clerical character was his chief inducement. But others mention his appointment to several church preferments besides none of them, how- ever, very profitable ; and most of them resigned soon after his induction to them. From a passage in an epistle of his to Warham, archbishop of Can- terbury, it would seem that the acquisition of an easy and honourable retreat had been his princi- pal object. About this time, Linacre appears to have been exceedingly afflicted with that painful disease, the stone, of which he ultimately died, and which must now have greatly incapacitated him for the active duties of his profession. Whatever the motives were which induced him to go into the church, it is said, that on the assumption of his new character, he applied himself to those studies which are more peculiarly connected with it ; and it is related of him, that a little before his death, when worn out with fatigue and sickness, he first LTNACRE. ] 1 began to read the New Testament : on perusing the f)th, 6th, and 7th chapters of St. Matthew, containing Christ's sermon on the Mount, he threw the hook from him with great violence, pas- sionately exclaiming, either this is not the Gospel, or ice are not Christians, a declaration, if rightly understood, equally honourable to the morals he found there inculcated, and severe upon those of the age in which he lived. It is, nevertheless, agreed on all hands, that the character of this eminent person, whether as an upright and humane physician, a steady and affectionate friend, or a munificent patron of let- ters, was deserving of the highest applause. Were other testimonies wanting, it were suffi- cient, in justification of this eulogium, to mention, that he was the intimate friend of Erasmus. That great and worthy man frequently takes occasion to express his affection and esteem for his cha- racter and abilities, and in his letters calls him "weum Linacrum. his dear frienrl, his preceptor, and patron." Writing to him from Paris, in 1508, after a visit he had made in England, Erasmus styles him his most learned and accomplished pre- ceptor, and then proceeds to relate to him the dis- asters of his own journey. He says he had suffered much in his passage across to France, that he had been four days at sea, that he had caught cold, that his head ached, that the glands behind his ears were swollen, his temples were throbbing, and that he suffered much from a noise in his ears ; and he concludes this long catalogue of accumu- lated maladies, by lamenting that, in the mean time, " No Linacre is at hand, to restore him to 12 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. health by his skilful advice." In another letter, and on another occasion, he writes to him again from Paris, to beg that he would have the good- ness to send him the prescription of a medicine, which Linacre had ordered for him while in Lon- don, but which his stupid servant had left at the apothecary's shop, and so lost. These are proofs of the esteem in which his skill was held, by one of the wisest men of the age in which he lived ; and as the medical writings he has left are only translations, we must form our judgment of his talents as a physician, by the universal reputation he acquired among his contemporaries for skill in the practice of his art. An instance of his saga- city is recorded in a prognostic he made concern- ing his friend Lily, the grammarian whose certain death he foretold, if he should consent to the excision of a malignant tumour on his hip ; and the event verified his prediction. Erasmus, in a letter to Bilibaldus Pirckheimerus, gives a very particular account of the manner in which he was relieved by the direction of Linacre in a fit of the gravel ; and the rational simplicity of the me- thod offers a favourable specimen of his medical practice. He says, Linacre, whose assiduity in attendance was equal to his knowledge, sent for an apothecary to his sick chamber, and caused him in his presence to prepare the folloAving re- medy : Camomile flowers and parsley were tied up in a linen cloth, and boiled in a vessel of pure water, till half the liquor was exhausted ; the cloth was then wrung out, and applied hot to the aftected part, and ease was presently procured. In a violent attack, this remedy, on the second LIN ACRE. 13 application, brought away a stone as big as an almond. One cannot deny, that the remedy was a judicious one ; but a warm bath, which would now-a-days have been suggested by any tyro in physic, would have been a little more efficacious, though it might not have had so medicated an appearance ; a circumstance of no small importance in these matters. Besides his medical translations, Linacre wrote on mathematics and on grammar : the first of these works he dedicated to prince Arthur, the second to the princess Mary. In the preface of this latter work, he declares, that having been appointed by the king to take care of the health of the princess, and not being able, on account of his own increasing infirmities, to perform the duties of a physician, he bethought himself how he could be of the most use to his illustrious charge. He saw in the princess a most favourable disposition towards the cultivation of letters, and he therefore devoted himself to the perfection of this treatise on the rudiments of the Latin grammar, which might aid her highness in her studies. To sum up his character, it was said of him, that no Englishman of his day had had such famous masters, viz., Demetrius and Politian, at Florence ; such noble patrons, Lorenzo de Medici, Henry VII. and Henry VIII. ; such high-born scholars, the prince Arthur and princess Mary, of England ; or such learned friends : for amongst the latter were to be enumerated Erasmus, Melancthon, Latimer, Tonstal, and Sir Thomas More. Of his transla- tions of Galen, Erasmus spoke in the highest terms ; and when writing to a friend, to whom he 14 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. was sending some of these books, he says, " I present you with the works of Galen, now, by the help of Linacre, speaking better Latin than they ever before spoke Greek." In the British Mu- seum there are two copies of Linacre's translation of the fourteen books of Galen's Methodus Me- dendi. They are in the finest possible condition, and are the presentation copies of Henry VIII. and Cardinal Wolsey. The title of the king's copy is illuminated with the royal arms ; that of Wol- sey's is decorated with the Cardinal's hat. On the binding of his majesty's are the royal arms and motto impressed. The dedication to the car- dinal is in manuscript ; they are both on spotless vellum. Linacre died in great agony from the stone, October 20, 1524, aged sixty-four; and was bu- ried in St. Paul's cathedral, where a monument was afterwards erected to his memory by his ad- mirer and successor in fame, Dr. Caius. 15 C A I U S. JOHN KAYR, or KEY, more generally known by his Latinized name of Caius, \vas born at Norwich, October 6, J510. He became, like Linacre, a court physician, enjoying that dignity during the successive reigns of Edward VI., Queen Mary, and Queen Elizabeth ; like him, too, he had stu- died abroad, and travelled over the greatest part of Italy, Germany, and France. On his return to England, Caius settled in the country, and prac- tised at Cambridge, Shrewsbury, and Norwich. From the latter place he was called to court, and appointed physician to Edward VI. Following the footsteps of his great predecessor, he was dis- tinguished for his knowledge of the Greek lan- guage, which gave him a superiority over most of his contemporaries ; and he imitated the example of Linacre, also, in revising, correcting, and translating several of Galen's works, which were printed at different times abroad. But, in addition to these, Caius was an original writer, and the author of some curious books ; one of the most singular of which is in English, being designed for the use of the people at large. It is the only work he seems to have composed in his native tongue, (on all other occasions he wrote in Latin) ; and the quaint simplicity of the language of that day, now nearly three hundred years ago, sounds strangely in modern ears, and cannot easily be read without exciting a smile. But the treatise 16 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. itself forms a very curious article in the annals of medicine, and relates to a sort of pestilence which infested this country at various periods, committed great ravages, and was attended with some remarkable circumstances. The title of the work is, " A Boke, or Counseill against the disease, commonly called the Sweate, or Sweatyng Sicknesse. Made by Ihon Caius, doctour in phisicke. Very necessary for everye personne, and much requisite to be had in the handes of al sortes, for their better instruction, preparacion, and defence, against the souddein comying and fearful assaulting of the same dis- ease." 12mo. 1552. The author makes an apology for writing his treatise in English, " For," says he, " the commo- ditie of that which is so written, passeth not the compasse of England, but remaineth enclosed within the seas. But," he adds, " as this disease is almost peculiar unto us Englishemen, and not common to all men, following us, as the shadowe the body, in all countries, albeit not at all times ; therefore compelled I am to use this our English tongue, as best to be understood and most needful, to whom it most behoveth to have speedy remedie." This curious disease appeared, for the first time, in the army of the Earl of Richmond, upon his landing at Milford-haven in 1485, and spread to London, were it raged from the beginning of August to the end of October. So formidable and fatal were its effects, that the coronation of Henry VII., the victor in the battle of Bosworth- field, was deferred till this strange pestilence had subsided. It was a species of malady CAIUS. 17 unknown to any other age or nation, which oc- casioned the sudden death of great multitudes. Caius describes it, as it appeared for the last time among us. The treatment of it is perhaps the most interesting, at least, affords us the most amusing particulars. It turns upon the sole idea of promoting the sweat, and Caius lays down the strictest rules for avoiding anything that might expose the patient to the least cold, or check this salutary and critical evacuation. On this point he is peremptory. " If two be taken in one bed, let them so continue, although it be to their unquiet- ness ; for fear whereof, and for the more quietness and safety, very good it is, during all the sweating time, that two persons lie not in one bed."* To promote perspiration they are ordered to 'drink posset ale, made of sweet milk, turned with vine- gar, in a quart whereof parsley and sage, of each half one little handful, hath been sodden, &c. * The manners and mode of life of our ancestors, as may be in- ferred from tfcis precept, were probably nearly the same at this time as they were described by Erasmus about thirty years before ; the condition of which may be supposed to have contributed to deter him from accepting the splendid offers of Henry VIII. and Cardinal Wolsey, made to induce that great scholar to fix his residence in England. "A magnificent apartment, a yearly pension of six hun- dred florins, and a benefice that produced yearly one hundred marks, were not sufficient to counterbalance the disgust he felt at the in- commodious and bad exposition of the houses, the filthiness of the streets, and the sluttishness within doors. The floors," continues Erasmus in his Letters, "are commonly of clay, strewed with rushes, under which lie unmolested an ancient collection of lees, grease, fragments, bones, spittle, excrements of dogs and cats, and every thing that is nasty." To such a sordid and uncleanly mode of life, Erasmus was disposed to impute the frequent visits of the plague in England ; and there can be no question that it would also mainly contribute to the spread and devastation of the epide- mic sickness described by Caius. C 18 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. If under this treatment, loaded with bed-clothes, and almost stifled with heat, they happen to feel faint, " cause them," says the doctor, " to lie on their right side, and bow themselves forward, call them by their names, beat them with a rosemary branch, or some other sweet little thing do not let them on any account sleep, but pull them by the ears, nose, or hair, suffering them in no wise to sleep, until such time as they have no luste to sleep ; ex- cept to a learned man in physick, the case appears to bear the contrary. If under this discipline they happily recover, and find their strength be sore wasted, let them smell to an old sweet apple, and use other restoratives of similar efficacy ; for," concludes Dr. Caius, " there is nothing more com- fortable to the spirits than good and sweet odours." The disease was of the most malignant and fatal character ; it immediately killed some in opening their windows, some in one hour, many in two, and at the longest " to them that merrily dined, it gave a sorrowful supper." He called it " Ephemera," or a fever of one na- tural day, for it lasted only twenty-four hours. In the fifth year of the reign of Edward VI. it began at Shrewsbury in the midst of April, and proceeded with great mortality to Ludlow, and other places in Wales, then to Chester, Coventry, Oxford, and other towns in the south ; it reached London "Jth July, from thence it went through the east part of England into the north, till the end of August, and entirely ceased towards the close of Septem- ber. Caius enumerates many causes of the disease, but chiefly shows why it attacks the English more than any other nation. " The reason is none CAIUS. 19 other than the evil diet of the country, which de- stroyeth more meats and drinks, without all order, convenient time, reason, or necessity, than either Scotland, or all other countries under the sun, to the great annoyance of their own bodies and wits, hindrance of those which have need, and great dearth and scarcity in the commonwealth. Where- fore if Esculapius, the inventor of physick, the saver of men from death, and restorer to life, should return again to this world, he could not save these sorts of men." In corroboration of this, he remarks, "that those who had the dis- ease, sore with peril or death, were either men of wealth, ease, and welfare ; or of the poorer sort, such as were idle persons, good ale drinkers and tavern haunters the laborious and thin dieted escaped." This curious English book the author afterwards revised, and put into a more scientific- form, and into the Latin language, and published it in 1556, under the title De Ephemera Bri- tannicd. In this more enlarged treatise, he speaks more fully of the article of diet, digresses, and gives us a minute account of the methods employed in his day, of making beer and ale, and of the process of malting, concluding with a copious panegyric upon temperance, extracted from the ancients. With an ostentatious display of learning, he enumerates all the most trifling details of the mystery of brewing, and having deposited the nutritious beve- rage in casks in the cellar, concludes emphati- cally Ita Ala Jit. He then proceeds to describe how Bera is made ; but we will not follow him into the minutiae of the fabrication of the thinner pota- c 2 20 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. tion, though it is very amusing to read his learned discourse upon these familiar articles of daily con- sumption, interlarded with Greek terms, and re- ference to the oivog xgidivo; of Athenaeus and Herodotus. The symptoms of the sweating sickness were as f >llow : it affected some particular part, attended with inward heat and burning, unquenchable thirst, restlessness, sickness at stomach and heart (though seldom vomiting), headache, delirium, then faint- ness and drowsiness ; the pulse quick and vehe- ment, and the breath short and labouring. Chil- dren, poor and old women were less subject to it of others scarce any escaped the attack, and most died : in Shrewsbury, where it lasted seven months, about a thousand perished. Even by travelling into France, or Flanders, the English, according to Caius, did not escape ; and what is stranger, " even the Scotch were free, and abroad, English only affected, and foreigners not affected in Eng- land." None recovered under twenty-four hours. It has been mentioned before that it first showed itself in England in 1485 it appeared again in 1506 afterwards in 1517, when it was so violent that it killed in the space of three hours ; so that many of the nobility died, and of the vulgar sort in several towns half often perished. It appeared also in 1548, and proved mortal then in the space of six hours : many of the courtiers died of it, and Henry VIII. himself was in danger. In 1529, and only then, it infested the Netherlands and Germany ; in which last country it did much mis- chief, and destroyed many, and particularly was the occasion of interrupting a conference at Mar- CAIUS. 21 purgh, between Luther and Zuinglius, about the Eucharist. The last appearance of the sweating sickness in England was in 1551, when in West- minster it carried off one hundred and twenty in a day, and the two sons of Charles Brandon, both Dukes of Suffolk, died of it. This is a short outline of the treatise of Caius upon this singular disease. It may be remarked, with reference to his statement, that it was pecu- liar to the natives of this country, that there seems to be some vulgar prejudice mixed up with that no- tion, as its first appearance was neither among Englishmen, nor in England, but amongst the foreign levies of the earl of Richmond, who had either brought it with them, or more probably generated it in the crowded transport-vessels, on board of which they were embarked. This body of troops is described by a contemporary historian, Philip de Comines, as the most wretched he had ever beheld, collected, we may suppose, from jails and hospitals, squalid, and covered with filth. A highly malignant and contagious disease might readily be produced in such circumstances ; but why it should appear under so new and singular a form, why this should be renewed so many times at irregular intervals, and should at length entirely cease, are questions perhaps impossible to be solved. That the climate of England was not essential to the existence of that disease, is ren- dered manifest by its raging with great violence in Germany and the Low Countries in 1529 and 1530 ; and that the persons of foreigners were not secure in England, appears from the death of Ammonius, a learned Italian, and a particular friend of Eras- 22 BRITISH PHYSICIANS.' mus, in 1 520, (in which year the sickness also pre~ vailed in Calais ;) and from the death of another of that nation, related by Caius himself. On the supposition of its being a fever of the putrid and malignant kind, we shall scarcely be able to account for its prevailing most among the rich and well fed, contrary to what we now observe of that class of disorders ; and, indeed, the vast numbers related to be swept away by it, evidently prove its fre- quency amongst the lowest ranks of people. To revert to the character of Caius, it has been mentioned before that he seems to have modelled himself upon the example of Linacre, and he fol- lowed him also in his patronage of learning : for being in great favour with Queen Mary, he ob- tained from her majesty a licence to advance Gon- ville Hall into a college ; which permission he suitably seconded by endowing it with several estates for the maintenance of three fellows and twenty scholars, and by various other acts of bounty. This was effected in the course of the years 1557 and 1558; and his name, together with that of the co-founder, still gives title to the college. He framed a new body of laws for this society, and in 1559 accepted the mastership of it, which he retained as long as he lived. In 1565 he began to enlarge his college by the erection of a new square, which was finished in 1570 at the expense of 1834/., a very considerable sum at that time. The inscriptions which he caused to be put over the gates of the new square of his College exhi- bit at once specimens of the quaintness of the man, as well as of the moralizing turn of the age in which he lived. One, being low and little, was CAIUS. 23 inscribed " Humilitatis ;" the next, which was a portico of handsome structure, was inscribed, " Virtutis ;" and on the opposite side was written, "Jo. Caius posuit sapientiae." The gate leading to the public schools, through which all passed for their degrees, was inscribed " Honoris." Caius seems to have derived great satisfaction from this disposition of his bounty ; for he made this man- sion of learning the retreat of his old age ; and after resigning the mastership of the College, he resided as a fellow commoner, assisting at daily prayers in the chapel, in a private seat built for his own use. But besides being the founder of a college at Cambridge, which is, to this day, the chief medi- cal college in that celebrated University, and the author of an interesting treatise on one of the most curious diseases that have ever appeared among us, Caius distinguished himself as a na- turalist, and was the correspondent of the cele- brated Gesner. Between Gesner and Caius an intimate friendship existed ; and the former, Avho was so eminent a scholar, philosopher, and na- turalist, as to have acquired the name of the Pliny of Germany, speaks of Caius in terms of the highest commendation. In his preface to his Icones Animalium, he styles him a man of consummate erudition, judgment, fidelity, and diligence ; and in an epistle to Queen Elizabeth, bestows upon him the epithet of " the most learned physician of his age." At the request of Gesner, he composed a treatise on British dogs, which was afterwards greatly improved and enlarged in ]570. 24 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. In this memoir he gives a brief account of the variety of dogs existing, in his time, in this coun- try, and adds a systematic table of them, subjoin- ing, for the instruction of his correspondent, their English names, which are as follow : " Terrare harier bludhunde gasehunde grehunde leviner, or lyemmer tumbler spainel setter water-spainel, or fynder spainel-gentle, or comforter shepherd's dog mastive, or bande- dog wappe turn-spit dancer." Of his manner of treating his subject, the fol- lowing may be given as specimens : The Terrare takes its name from its subterraneous em- ploy, being a small kind of hound, used to force the fox, or other beasts of prey, out of their holes. The Harier derives its name from hunting the hare. The Bludhunde, or Slothunde, was of great use, and in high esteem, amongst our ancestors. Slot means the impres- sion left by the foot of the dog in the mire. This dog was remarkable for the acuteness of his smell, tracing any wounded game that had escaped from the hunter, and fol- lowing the footsteps of the thief, let the distance of his flight be ever so great. The bloodhound WRS in great request on the confines of England and Scotland, when the Borderers were continually preying on the herds and flocks of their neighbours, and was used also by Wallace and Bruce, during the civil wars. The Gasehunde would select from the herd the fattest and fairest deer, pursue it by the eye, and, if lost for a time, recover it, and again select it from the herd which it might have rejoined. (This species is now extinct, or, at least, unknown.) The Grehunde was the first in rank among dogs, as appears from the forest-laws of Canute, who enacted, ' That no one under the degree of a gentleman should presume to keep a greyhound ;' as also from an old Welsh saying, which signifies that you may know a gentleman by his hawke, his horse, and grehunde. Notwithstanding the rank CAIUS. 25 it held among the canine race, Caius mentions, on the au- thority of Froissart, the following fact, not much to the credit of the fidelity of this species : When that unhappy prince, Richard the Second, was taken in Flint Castle, his favourite greyhound immediately deserted him, and fawned on his rival, Bolingbroke, as if he understood and foresaw the misfortunes of his former master. This act of ingratitude, the unfortunate monarch observed, and declared aloud, to be the presage of his future death. The Leviner, or Lyemmer. The first name is derived from the lightness of the kind ; the other from the old word Lyemme, a thong ; this species being used to be led with a thong, and slipped at the game. This dog hunted both by scent and sight, and in the form of its body observed a me- dium between the hound and the grehunde. They were chiefly used for the chace of wolves. According to Caius, we are indebted to Spain for the Spainel ; but the Com- forter, or Spainel-gentle, comes from Malta. The Mastive, or Bandedog. Of these, he says, three were a match for a bear, and four for a lion. It appears that Great Britain was so noted for its mastiffs, that the Roman Emperors appointed an officer in this island, with the title of Procurator Cynegii, whose sole business it was to breed, and transmit from hence to the amphitheatre, such dogs as would prove equal to the combats exhibited at that place. The mastiffe has been described, by other naturalists, as a species of great size and strength, and a very loud barker ; whence they have derived its name, mastiff, quasi Mase ihefese ; it being supposed to frighten away robbers by its tremendous voice. This memoir upon Dogs was not the only work of our physician on subjects connected with na- tural history, for he wrote a treatise on some rare .plants and animals, as well as an account of the hot springs of England. Caius was a Fellow of the College of Physi- cians, having been admitted in 1547. He passed through all the offices, for several years had been chosen censor, often registrar and treasurer, and 26 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. for seven years and more was president of this royal foundation. Pie left behind him a book, written with his own hand, of the College Annals, bearing date 1555, and ending 1572, which was the first book kept of their transactions, and is written in Latin, in a clear style, and with great method. He was always an eminent defender of the College rights and privileges ; and a difference arising between the physicians and surgeons in the reign of queen Elizabeth, as to whether the latter might administer internal remedies in scia- tica, and various other similar diseases and wounds, Caius was summoned, as president of the College, to appear before the Lord Mayor and others of the Queen's delegates. On this occasion he defended the College rights so learnedly, and so strenuously pointed out the illegality of the practice of the surgeons in the forementioned cases (though they were supported by the Bishop of London, the Master of the Rolls, and others), that it was unanimously agreed, by the Queen's Commissioners, that it was unlawful for the sur- geons to practice in the said cases. This conduct of Caius might make him some enemies, at all events, it would render him noto- rious, though it appears strange that Shakspeare should have selected his name for the ridiculous French Doctor, in the comedy of the " Merry Wives of Windsor." From his celebrity, he might have used it as the generic name of a physician. But Shakspeare was little acquainted with literary history, and might possibly wish to treat him as a foreign quack, because the doctor was handed CAIUS. 27 down as a kind of Rosicrucian, and, it is said, left behind him some secret writings, which tended to confirm that opinion. The great dramatist is very hard upon the physician, calls him bully- stale^ urinal, and muck-water, reflecting upon that particular inspection which made a considera- ble part of practical physic at that time. Thus, mine host of the Garter, availing himself of the doctor's imputed ignorance of the English lan- guage, makes him the butt of his ridicule, and annexes to the terms lie uses a sense directly opposite to their real import. To make him amends, "he will clapper-claw him tightly;" and, to promote his suit as a lover, " he will he his adversary towards Ann Page." But the real Dr. Caius, as we have seen, was a man of various and extensive learning ; accu- rately acquainted with the Greek language, and remarkable for his Latin style, which is pure and copious, and formed upon the best models of an- tiquity. A list of his works which he left behind him will fully warrant this opinion. Among them were translations from Galen and Hippocrates ; a corrected edition of Celsus; a Treatise on the Pro-, nunciation of the Greek and Latin Languages ; and one on the Antiquity of the University of Cambridge. Caius had always a propensity to antiquarian studies, and he was induced late in life to write the last-mentioned treatise, by the fol- lowing occurrence : Queen Elizabeth, paying a visit to Cambridge in 1564, the public orator, in a speech before her Majesty, extolled the antiquity of that university, to the prejudice of that of Oxford. This incited one Thomas Key, a Fellow 28 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. of All Souls' College, Oxford, to vindicate the honour of the seminary to which he belonged, in a publication, wherein he asserted, that it was founded by some Greek philosophers, companions of Brutus, and restored by Alfred about the year 870. This was too great a triumph to be borne by the Cantabrigians ; and accordingly, our phy- sician, at the instigation of Archbishop Parker, stepped forth, and in a learned dissertation, to which he fixed the signature Londinensis, as- serted the antiquity of his own University, and called in question that of Oxford. With all the forms of antiquarian certainty and precision, he established its foundation by one Cantaber, 394 years before Christ, and in the year of the world four thousand three hundred and odd. Thus, after defeating the Oxford claim, derived from the companions of Brutus, yet allowing them an origin as far back as from Alfred, he gains a priority of time for Cambridge of 1267 years ! To such trifling and uninteresting objects did he apply his accuracy and diligent research ! His other critical performance was, on the ge- nuine pronunciation of the Greek and Latin lan- guages. It is somewhat extraordinary that, so soon after the revival of letters, we should differ in our pronunciation of the learned languages from those who were our masters in them. This difference, we know, is at present very great. With regard to the Latin, we stand single in our manner of pronouncing the vowels, in opposition to every other nation in Europe. Caius, by his long residence abroad, and connexion with foreign literati, was led to prefer their method. As to the CAIUS. 29 Greek he wished to have it pronounced after the manner of the modern Greeks. To conclude. From the variety of his writings already alluded to, it will be admitted, by all, that he was fully entitled to the reputation of a critic, a linguist, a physician, a naturalist, and an anti- quary. He passed the last years of his life, as has before been stated, in the academic retreat he had formed for himself at Cambridge ; but does not appear to have retired from the public busi- ness of his profession from any gloomy distaste to the world, but from a truly philosophic fondness for learned leisure ; as is apparent from the nume- rous pieces upon literary subjects, in which he was engaged to the last moment of his life. Before his death he was reduced to a state of great bodily weakness; and from a curious passage in Dr. Mouffet's Health's Improvement; or, Rules con- cerning Food, we learn that he attempted to sustain his decaying frame by reverting to the food of infancy. The passage is as follows : " What made Dr. Caius in his last sickness so peevish and so full of frets at Cambridge, when he sucked one woman (whom I spare to name), froward of conditions and of bad diet ; and con- trariwise, so quiet and well, when he sucked ano- ther of contrary dispositions ? Verily, the diver- sity of their milks and conditions, which, being contrary one to the other, wrought also in him that sucked them contrary effects." Notwith- standing a)l these precautions, Caius died July 29, ] 573, in the 63d year of his age, and was buried within the chapel of his own College, in a grave made some time before his death, which, it is said, 30 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. he foretold ; and on his monument (of which an engraving is subjoined) instead of a prolix epi- taph, was placed in the laconic inscription : FUI CAIUS. 31 HARVEY. THE lives of the two last eminent men are chiefly remarkable as affording striking examples of the combination of the scholar and physician, and showing how much we are indebted to the pro- fession of physic for the introduction of classical literature, and the general revival of learning, amongst us. The establishment of the College of Physicians, and the characters of its founder and of his immediate successor, have contributed more than any thing else to promote and continue, to the present day, that highly advantageous and creditable union of the science of physic with the scholastic attainments of the University. To this fortunate occasion, the rank in society occupied by physicians in this country (so much superior to what they hold in any other) is chiefly to be ascribed. But neither Linacre nor Caius, though they advanced and adorned their profession by elegant accomplishments, can be considered as having given a new era to medical science, by any great or signal discovery. The subject of the present chapter calls up re- collections that justly place his name in the highest rank of natural philosophers. The same services which Newton afterwards rendered to optics and astronomy, by his theory of light and gravita- 32 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. tion, Harvey conferred upon anatomy and medi- cine by his true doctrine of the circulation of the blood. A short statement of what is meant by the cir- culation of the blood, will enable us fully to ap- preciate the value and importance of this great discovery. And this may the more easily be done, as the apparatus by which it is carried on, is, at this time of day, probably the best understood of any part of the animal economy. Of the utility of the circulation, every one will be immediately aware, when it is mentioned, that one of its chief purposes is to distribute to every part, every extremity, nook,and corner of the body, the nourishment which is received into it, by one aperture : What enters at the mouth, by means of this function finds its way to the fingers' ends. To effect this difficult purpose, two things are necessary. 1st. A proper disposition of the blood- vessels, which has been not unaptly compared to the laying of the water-pipes in a populous city. 2d. The construction of the engine at the centre, viz., the heart, for driving the blood through them. In the case of the conveyance of water, one sys- tem of pipes is sufficient ; but in the living body another system of vessels is required, to reconvey the blood back to its source. The body, there- fore, contains two systems of blood-vessels, called arteries and veins. The next thing to be consi- dered, is the engine which works this machinery : for this purpose there is provided in the central part of the body a hollow muscle, viz., the heart, by the contraction of whose fibres the four cavi- ties of which it consists are squeezed together, so HARVEY. 33 as to force out of them any fluid they may happen to contain. By the relaxation of the same fibres, these cavities are in their turn dilated, and of course prepared to admit any fluid which may be poured into them. Into these cavities are inserted the great trunks, both of the arteries which carry out the blood, and of the veins which bring it back. The ar- teries arise from cavities called ventricles ; the veins pour their contents into cavities denominated auri- cles. By the successive contractions and dilata- tions of these several cavities of the heart, it has been calculated that all the blood in the body passes through the heart about once in four mi- nutes. Consider what an affair this is, when we come to very large animals ! The aorta (which is the name given to the chief artery) of a whale is larger in the bore than the main pipe of the water-works at London -bridge, and the water roaring in its passage through that pipe is inferior in impetus and velocity to the blood gushing from the whale's heart. To render this short account more precise, it must be observed, that with the apparatus men- tioned above, two distinct circulations are carried on. For besides circulating generally through the body, the blood must come somewhere into conti- guity with the air, in order to purify it, and change its colour from dark to bright red. Hence the heart is, as it were, a double organ, having a double office to perform : of its four cavities, two are em- ployed to carry on the general circulation, while the remaining auricle and ventricle keep up the smaller circulation 'through the lungs, where the blood meets with the atmospheric air. 34 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. Stated in this summary way, nothing seems easier, more obvious, or more readily understood, than the physiology of this great and important function ; but until the name of Harvey it was in- volved in the greatest obscurity, and mixed up with all manner of contradictory absurdities. And yet before his day many things were made out; the valves of the veins, for instance, were known ; the pulmonary circulation was understood, and several other essential points had been established ; still the great inference had never been drawn. So often are we on the very threshold of a disco- very, which by some fatality we miss ; and when it is at length made, have only to express our as- tonishment that we were so marvellously purblind as to overlook it! But the early life of Harvey, and the opportu- nities of his education, led him step by step in the brilliant career of his investigation, till it was finally crowned with success. William Harvey was descended from a respect- able family in the county of Kent, and was born at Folkstone on the 1st of April, 1578. He was born in the house described as built of fair stone, which, after his death, became the post-house of the town, and which Harvey left by will, together with some lands adjoining, to Caius College, Cam- bridge. His younger brother, Eliab, would, it is said, have given any money in exchange for it, be- cause it was the paternal mansion, and all his bre- thren had been born there ; but the doctor thought that his own memory would be. better preserved, by leaving it to the college where he had been edu- cated ; besides, his brother Eliab, who had become HARVEY. 35 a very rich merchant, possessed noble seats of his own, and was worth at least 3000^. per annum. At ten years of age, he was sent to the gram- mar-school in Canterbury ; and having there laid a proper foundation of classical learning, was re- moved to Gonville and Caius College, in Cam- bridge, and admitted as a pensioner in May 1593. After spending about five years at the University, in those academical studies which are preparatory to a learned profession, he went abroad for the ac- quisition of medical knowledge, and, travelling through France and Germany, fixed himself, in his twenty-third year, at Padua. The university of this city was then in the height of its reputation for the study of physic, for which it was principally indebted to Fabricius ah Aqua- pendente, the professor of anatomy*, whose lec- tures Harvey attended with the utmost diligence. Fabricius taught the existence of valves in all the reins of the body ; and from that moment his in- telligent pupil endeavoured to discover the use of these valves. This inquiry was the foundation of his after fame. He took his doctor's degree at Padua, in 1602, when he was only twenty-four years of age. In the course of the same year he returned to * There is still to this day exhibited to strangers at Padua, a very ancient anatomical theatre, which is said to have been the one built by Fabricius at his own expense. Circular seats, rising almost perpendicularly one above the other, now nearly black with age, give to the small apartment, which is wainscoted with curiously carved oak, a most solemn and venerable appearance. The lectures were given by candle-light, as, from the construction of the theatre, no other light could be admitted ; but this, indeed, is. considered to be the best mode of exhibiting to a class the various subjects which are required for the elucidation of an anatomical lecture. D 2 30 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. England, and having again graduated at Cam- bridge, settled in the practice of his profession in London. In 1604 he was admitted a candidate of the College of Physicians, and was elected fel- low about three years after. About this time the governors of St. Bartholomew's Hospital made an order, that on the decease of Dr. Wilkinson, one of the physicians to that charity, Dr. Harvey should succeed him in that office, which event took place in the following year. But the most important appointment which be obtained, was that of reader of the anatomical and surgical lectures at the College of Physicians in 1615, when he was thirty- seven years old. He now seriously prosecuted his researches on the circulation of the blood, and it was in the course of these lectures that he first publicly announced his new doctrines ; but though he taught his opin- ions on this subject viva voce to his auditors, he continued assiduously to repeat his experiments, and verify his observations, for many years, before he ventured to commit them to the press. It is not intended to enter into the minute argu- ments and physiological reasonings by which he maintained the truth of his doctrine, but it may be mentioned, that while Fabricius ab Aquapendente had taught him, at Padua, that the use of the valves of the veins was to moderate the flow of blood from their trunks into their branches, Harvey more rationally and more obviously insisted that the valves were intended to facilitate the return of the blood to the heart. Tie up a vein, or com- press it, as is done in the simple operation of vene- section, and you see the part of the vein at a greater HARVEY. 37 distance from the heart swell and become distended ; whereas the contrary happens if you pass a liga- ture round an artery. By this, and other similar reasoning, he demonstrated that the heart heing excited to contract by the stimulus of the blood, that fluid is impelled through the arteries, and having served every purpose of secretion and nou- rishment, returns by the veins, to recommence its circulation. Great, however, as was the discovery of Harvey, his doctrine was not so complete and perfect in all its parts as it has since been ren- dered by the labours of later physiologists. In two points, his system must be acknowledged, even by his greatest admirers, to have been defective ; for he does not seem to have been aware of the con- tractile power of the coats of the arteries, nor to have thoroughly understood the minute connexion of the veins with the arteries. Harvey's work cost him twenty-six years to bring it to maturity ; his discovery was ill-received, most persons opposed it, others said it was old, very few agreed with him. He had, indeed, his admirers; witness, for example, certain verses which were addressed " To the incomparable Dr. Harvey, on his Book of the* Motion of the He art and Blood," in which these lines occur : There didst thou trace the blood, and first behold What dreams mistaken sages coined of old. For till thy Pegasus the fountain brake, The crimson blood was but a crimson lake, Which first from thee did tyde and motion gaine, And veins became its channel, not its chaine. With Drake and Ca'ndish hence thy bays are curl'd, Fam'd circulator of the lesser world. But the epithet circulator, in its Latin invidious 38 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. signification (quack), was applied to him by many in derision, and his researches and discoveries were treated by his adversaries with contempt and reproach. To an intimate friend he himself com- plained, that after his book of the circulation came out he fell considerably in his practice, and it was believed by the vulgar that he was crack-brained : all his contemporary physicians were against his opinion, and envied him the fame he was likely to acquire by his discovery. That reputation he did, however, ultimately enjoy ; about twenty-five years after the publication of his system, it was received in all the universities of the world and Hobbes has observed, that Harvey was the only man perhaps who ever lived to see his own'doc- trine established in his lifetime. The original MSS. of Harvey's lectures are preserved, it is said, in the British Museum, and some very curious preparations, (rude enough as compared with the present ingenious methods of preserving parts of the human body,)which either he himself made at Padua, or procured from that celebrated school of medicine, and which most probably he exhibited to his class during his course of lectures on the circulation, are now in the College of Physicians ; they consist of six tables or boards, upon which are spread the differ- ent nerves and blood-vessels, carefully dissected out of the body ; in one of them the]' semilunar valves of the aorta are distinctly to be seen. Now these valves, placed at the origin of the arteries, must, together with the valves of the veins, have furnished Harvey with the most striking and con- clusive arguments in support of his novel doctrines. HARVEY. 39 The interesting relics just mentioned had been carefully kept at Burleigh-on-the-hill, and were presented to the College by the Earl of Winchelsea, the direct descendant of the Lord Chancellor Nottingham, who married the niece of the illus- trious discoverer of the circulation of the blood. The noble donor, in presenting them to the Col- lege of Physicians, about eight years ago, ex- pressed a hope, in a letter addressed to the President, that these specimens of the scientific researches of Harvey might be deemed worthy of their acceptance, and thought that they could no- where be so well placed as in the hands of that learned body of which he had been so distinguished a member. The date of the first promulgation of his doc- trine of the circulation is not absolutely ascer- tained : it is commonly asserted that he first disclosed his opinion on the subject in 1619, after he had been lecturing four years. The index, however, of his MS. in the British Mu- seum, which contains the propositions on which the doctrine is founded, refers them to April, 1616. Yet, with a patience and caution peculiarly cha- racteristic of the sound philosopher, he withheld his opinions, as has been observed- before, from the world, until reiterated experiment had amply confirmed his system, and had enabled him to de- monstrate it in detail, and to advance every proof of its truth of which the subject is capable. It was not before he had attained his 50th year, that his " Treatise on the Motion of the Heart and Blood, dedicated to Charles I." appeared, having been committed to the press at Francfort, in 1628. 40 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. His choice of this city for the place of publication is supposed to have arisen from its celebrated fairs, by means of which, books printed there were rapidly circulated throughout all Germany and the greatest part of Europe. Some time before this, the reputation of Harvey had recommended him to the notice of the court, and he had been appointed physician-extraordi- nary to King James I.; in 1632, he was made physician to his successor, Charles I. By his unfortunate royal master he was always treated with regard and favour ; and the attachment to arts and sciences> which formed a conspicuous part of the king's character, contributed not a little to promote and encourage the pursuits of our philo- sopher. It is not without a degree of pardonable vanity, that Harvey describes his Majesty, with some of the noblest persons about the court, as deigning to be the spectators and witnesses of his experiments. The interest King Charles took in the success of his anatomical researches was of singular service to him ; and, in particular, his majesty's favourite diversion of stag-hunting furnished him with the opportunity of dissecting a vast number of animals of that species in a pregnant state. About this time he appears to have gone abroad, and to have accompanied the Lord High Marshal of England, Thomas Howard, Earl of Arundel and Surrey, as his physician, in his embassy to the Emperor. Mr. William Hollar (who was then one of his Excellency's gentlemen) told Aubrey, that in his journey to Vienna, Harvey would always be making excursions into the woods, making HARVEY. 41 observations of strange trees and plants, earths, &c., and sometimes run the danger of heing lost. So that, as the gossiping antiquary remarks, " My Lord Ambassador would be really angry with him ; for there was not only danger of thieves, but also of wild beasts." During his absence abroad, the Governors of St. Bartholomew's Hospital allowed him to delegate his office of physician to Dr. Smyth ; and soon afterwards, in consideration of his professional em- ployment at court, which obliged him to a close attendance upon the person of the king, they ap- pointed Dr. Andrews his assistant in the hospital, continuing, however, the former salary to Har- vey, out of regard for his great merit and signal services. On one of these occasional absences from his professional duties in the metropolis, he accompa- nied the king in a journey to Scotland. It was in 1633 that Charles went to his northern dominions, attended by the court, for the purpose of holding a parliament, and going again through the ceremony of a coronation. The nobility and gentry of both kingdoms are said to have rivalled each other in expressing all duty and respect to the king, and in showing mutual friendship and regard to each other. No one could have expected, from exterior appearances, the change that was ap- proaching. While the court was occupied in these flattering festivities, so soon to be followed by acts of treacherous duplicity and scenes of tumult and bloodshed, Harvey, whose mind seems never to have been idle, made an excursion to the Bass Rock, in the Frith of Forth, of which he has left 42 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. an elegant and picturesque description. He in- troduces it by way of illustrating some of his notions relating to the formation of the egg-shell ; and after quoting the opinions of Aristotle, Pliny, and others, on this point of physiology, he con- tinues in the following words : " And now we are upon this subject, give me leave to expatiate awhile. In the eastern barren islands of Scotland, there is such a great abundance of almost all sorts of sea-fowl, that if I should re- late all that I have heard, though from persons of great integrity, I fear I should be suspected to be more fabulous than those several authors who dis- course of the Scottish or Soland-geese, which they pretend to be born from the fruit of certain trees falling into the sea (which fruit or geese they them- selves never saiv). However, I shall venture to relate what my own eyes have seen. " There is a little island, the Scots call it Bass, (by this, reader, guess at the others,) it is not far from the shore, seated in the main sea, and standing upon a rugged and dangerous clift, (you may call it rather one great continued stone or rock, than an island) it is not above a mile about. The superficies of this island (in the months of May and June*) is almost covered quite over with nests, eggs, and young ones, that for their infinite abundance you can scarce set your foot in a spare place, and such a mighty flock hovereth over the island, that (like thick clouds) they darken and obscure the day ; and such a cry and noise they make, that you can hardly hear those that stand next you. If you look down into the sea beneath * It was in June that the king made his visit to Scotland. HARVEY. 43 you (as from a steep tower or precipice), you will see it all spread over with several sorts of fowl, swimming to and fro, in pursuit of their prey, just as some ditches or lakes in the spring-time are paved with frogs, or open hills and steep mountains are covered with flocks of sheep and goats. If you sail round the island, and look up into the several clift's and caverns of it, you will find them all peopled and inhabited with several colonies of birds and fowl, of distinct kind and magnitude ; more, indeed, than in a clear night, when the moon is absent, there are stars to be discerned in the firmament : and if you observe the several regiments of those that sally out and those that flock homewards at the same time, you would take them for an infinite swarm of bees. It is not to be imagined what a vast yearly revenue the lord of the island maketh of the plumes and the old nests * (which are use- ful for firing), together with the eggs, which he boils, and then trafncketh away : that which he himself told me was indeed incredible. "But one thing, which comes nearer to our * It does not seem from this account of the island, that the Solan-goose itself was, in the days of Harvey, held in esteem, as a sort of luxury ; though about the middle of the 17th century, i. e. about 50 years afterwards, Pennant states that a young one was sold for 20d., and it maintained the same price in the time of the naturalist. Then it was, and is still, served up roasted, a little before dinner, as an article of Scottish friandise. Pennant gives the following affiche of the sale of this delicacy. "SOLAN GOOSE. " There is to be sold, by John Walton, Jun., at his stand at the Poultry, Edinburgh, all lawful days in the week, wind and weather serving, good and fresh Solan geese. Any who have occasion for the same, may have them at reasonable rates. "Aug. 5, 1768." 44 BRITISH PHYSICIAN'S. purpose, seemeth to me remarkable in chief, and doth give a clear testimony of the excessive multitude; which is, that this island, as you ap- proach it, shineth with a white glazing, and the cliffs resemble mountains of the purest chalk, though the native complexion of the stone be obscure and black.* " That which thus discoloureth the island, is a white crust, which is friable, and of the very same consistence, complexion, and nature with the egg- shell ; t so that all parts of the island are plastered over with this hard tegument, and crumbling or friable crust of shell. The bottom of the island, which the tide washeth every day, retaining still its natural colour, clearly showeth that that fucus, or sophisticated whiteness, proceeds from the birds. None of these birds are citizens of the place, but foreigners all, and resort thither for convenient laying, and there they continue some weeks, as ir an inn, till they and their young ones be all in a condition to fly away together. But that white rough cast is so solid, firm, and thick, that you would think it were the genuine and natural sub- stance of the soil," &c. Soon after his return from Scotland, the anato- mical skill of Harvey was employed, by the king's command, in the dissection of that extraordinary * The Bass Rock is principally composed of clink-stone, and be- longs to the secondary trap rocks of the Wernerian. t According to chemists, egg-shells are composed of carbonate of lime and phosphate of lime, cemented by animal matter ; and Vauque- lin asserts, that the excreted matter, alluded to by Harvey, consists also of the same substances, together with the addition of a small quantity of silica. Assuredly, Harvey did not know this ; but his natural sagacity made him suspect their identity. HAUVEY. 45 instance of longevity, Thomas Parr, who died No- vember 14, 1635, at the age of 153 years. He was a poor countryman, who had been brought up from his native county, Shropshire, by Thomas, Earl of Arundel, and shown as a great curiosity at court. At the age of 88, he had married his first wife; at 102, he had done penance in church, for a breach of the laws provided against incon- tinency. When he was 120, he married again, taking to wife a widow, with whom he is repre- sented to have lived upon the most affectionate terms. At 130, he had threshed corn, and done other agricultural work, by which he gained his livelihood. His usual habits of life had been most sparing ; his diet consisting of coarse brown bread, made of bran ; of rancid cheese, and sour whey ; but when, on his arrival in London, he became domesticated in the family of the Earl of Arundel, his mode of living was changed, he fed high, drank wine, and soon died. According to Harvey, who opened his body, his death was occasioned by a peripneumony, brought on by the impurity of a London atmo- sphere, and the sudden alteration of his diet. There were adhesions of the lungs to the pleura on the right side ; his heart was large, his intes- tines sound ; but the cartilages of his ribs, instead of being ossified, as they generally are in elderly persons, were, on the contrary, soft and flexible in this man, who was more than a century and a half old. His brain was sound; he had been blind for twenty years before his death, but his hearing was distinct : his memory was very bad. The civil wars at length breaking out, Harvey, 46 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. who was attached to the king, as well by his office as by gratitude and affection, followed the fortunes of his master, and on his leaving London, in con- sequence of the increasing tumults, attended him, and was present at the battle of Edgehill, in 1642. The royal army lay near Banbury ; that of the parliament at Keinton, in the county of Warwick. In the early part of the day, the advantage was decidedly with the king ; but, from the impatience of his body of reserve, who judging, like raw sol- diers, that a complete victory was gained, heed- lessly followed in pursuit of the fugitive troops of the enemy, the tide of battle turned against Charles, and towards its close everything wore the appearance of a defeat, rather than a victory. Some advised the king to leave the field ; but the monarch rejected such pusillanimous counsel. The two armies faced each other for some time, but neither of them retained courage sufficient for a new attack. All night they lay under arms ; and next morning found themselves in sight of each other. General, as well as soldier, on both sides, seemed averse to renew the battle. Five thousand men are said to have been found dead on the field of battle ; and the loss of the two armies, as far as can be ascertained by the opposite accounts, was nearly equal. Both sides claimed the victory ; but the king, except the taking of Banbury, had few advantages to boast of, and a few days after the battle continued his march, and took possession of Oxford, the only town in his dominions which was altogether at his devotion. Harvey, with the rest of the royal household, retired to this city, and HARVEY. 47 there he was destined to remain some time. He related to a friend, that, on the day of the hattle of Edgehill, he had the charge of the Prince (after- wards Charles II.) and of the Duke of York ; while the fight was going on, he withdrew with the young princes under a hedge, and took out of his pocket a book, which he began to read. He had not pursued his studies long, before a cannon- ball grazed on the ground near him, which made him remove his station. The following adventure, also, had come under his notice : Sir Adrian Scrope was dangerously wounded, and left for dead amongst the slain, which happened to be the saving of his life. It was cold, clear weather, and a frost came on during the night (the battle of Edgehill was fought on the 23d of October), which stanched the bleeding of the wounded man; about midnight, some hours after his hurt, he awaked, and was fain to draw a dead body upon him for the sake of warmth. At Oxford, Harvey had abundant leisure to pur- sue his favourite studies; though under the dis- advantage of having lost many most valuable notes of experiments, Avhich he had previously made. At the beginning of the rebellion, his lodgings at Whitehall had been plundered; and his papers, containing his curious observations upon the dissection of frogs, toads, and a number of other animals, disappeared. This was a loss which he never ceased to lament, saying, " fhat for love or money, he could never retrieve or ob- tain them." He was incorporated Doctor of Phy- sic on the 7th December, 1642; and in 1645 was made, by the king's mandate, Warden of Merton 48 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. College, in the room of Dr. Nathaniel Brent, who, in compliance with the prevailing party, had left the University, and taken the covenant. It is related of him, that, during his stay at Oxford, he was in the habit of visiting George Bathurst, B.D., at Trinity College, who had a hen to hatch eggs in his chambers, which they daily opened to see the progress and way of generation. This was a very favourite study with Harvey, and forms the subject of his other great work, second only in importance to his doctrine of the circulation of the blood. The method above mentioned, of illustrating this obscure function, he had adopted, because, to use his own words, " Eggs were a cheap mer- chandise, and were at hand at all times and in all places ; and it was an easy matter to observe out of them what are the first evident and distinct works of generation ; what progress Nature makes in formation, and with what wonderful providence she governs the whole work." At Oxford, where his stay must have exceeded three years, he became acquainted with a young physician, Dr. Charles Scarborough, who was afterwards knighted by Charles II. Harvey de- lighted much in the conversation of Scarborough, who was, however, in these troublesome times, much disposed to neglect his medical studies for the more brilliant profession of arms. To check this military ardour, Harvey took the young doc- tor, and accommodated him with a lodging in his own apartment, saying, " Prithee, leave off thy gunning, and stay here; I will bring thee into practice." HARVKY. 49 While at the university, lie is supposed to have written a little book, in duodecimo, against Riolan, in which he makes out his doctrine of the circula- tion more clearly. But when diaries, in evil hour, was persuaded to put himself in the power of the Scottish army at Newark, and orders were issued for the surrender of Oxford, Harvey was obliged to resign his short-lived appointment of Warden of Merton (Dr. Brent resuming his office), and came up to London in 1646, and lived with his brother Eliab, a rich merchant, who re- sided opposite to St. Lawrence in the Poultry, and who had also a country house at Iloeharnpton. In 1649, he is said, by a contemporary writer, to have travelled again into Italy, in company with his friend, Dr. Ent ; but no other of his biographers mentions this circumstance, and Au- brey, the author alluded to, is not always to be relied upon; for, as a late eminent critic observed of him, " he thought little, believed much, and. confused every thing." It is certain, however, that Harvey withdrew from the world about this time, and passed his time in retirement, in a house which he possessed at Combe, in Surrey. Here there was good air, and a pleasant prospect ; and, to indulge a whim he had of delighting in being in the dark, he caused caves to be made in the earth, in which, in summer time, he was pleased to meditate. In this seclusion he was found, in the year 1651, by his intimate friend, Dr. Ent : the result of whose visit was the pub- lication of Harvey's second work, called his " Exercitations on the Generation of Animals;" which had employed almost as large a portion E 50 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. of his time as his immortal treatise on the circu- lation of the blood. " I found him," says Ent, " in his retirement not far from town, with a sprightly and cheerful countenance, investigating, like Democritus, the nature of things. Asking if all were well with him, ' How can that be,' he replied, ' when the state is so agitated with storms, and I myself am yet in the open sea ? And, indeed,' added he, * were not my mind solaced by my studies and the recollec- tion of the observations I have formerly made, there is nothing which should make me desirous of a longer continuance. But, thus employed, this obscure life, and vacation from public cares, which disquiet other minds, is the medicine of mine.'" Ent goes on to relate a philosophical conversation between them, that brought on the mention of these papers of his, which the public had so long expected. After some modest alter- cation, Harvey brought them all to him, with per- mission either to publish them immediately, or to suppress them till some future time. " I went from him," says Dr. Ent, " like another Jason, in possession of the golden fleece, and when I came home, and perused the pieces singly, I was amazed that so vast a treasure should have been so long hidden ; and that while others with great parade exhibit to the public their stale trash, this person should seem to make so little account of his admirable observations." Indeed, no one appears to have possessed, in a greater degree than Harvey, that genuine modesty which distin- guishes the real philosopher from the superficial pretender to science. His great discovery was not II AHVKY. 5 1 publicly offered to the world, till after many years' probation among his colleagues at home ; and the labours of all the latter part of his life would scarcely have appeared till after his death, had not the importunities of a friend extorted them from him. The work obtained by Dr. Ent, consists chiefly of a detail of facts and observations, which will not easily admit of an analysis ; but the general infer- ence to be drawn from the whole of these Exercl- tations, seventy in number, is in favour of the universal prevalence of oval generation. 11 is chief example is the hen and chick ; he was the first who pointed out the origin of the latter from the cicatricula of the ovum, and who perceived the punctum saliens to be the heart. He accurately displays, as far as the eye could inform him, the successive formation of the several parts ; and herein corrects many ancient errors. He main- tains that the formation of viviparous animals is not different from that of birds. In perusing this curious treatise, abounding as it does with anato- mical observations, which are valuable from the great attention and accuracy with which they were made, the reader may perhaps be surprised to find the theory of Harvey, on this obscure and myste- rious function, so full of metaphysical arguments, and resting at last upon an hypothesis incapable of proof- But there is a limit to all human knowledge. Harvey was now in his 71st year, and the remain- der of his life seems to have betn spent in acts of generosity and munificence, which exhibit, in the strongest point of view, the love he bore his pra~ E 2 52 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. fession, and the anxious desire he felt to secure and promote its future interests. Having made known one of his liberal intentions to the Pre- sident of the College of Physicians, Dr. Prujean, who then held that office, announced his design to the Fellows assembled, in the following words : " If I can procure one that will build us a library, and a repository for simples and rarities, such an one as shall be suitable and honourable to the College, will you assent to have it done or no ; and give me leave, and such others as I shall de- sire, to be the designers and overlookers of the work, both for convenience and ornament ?" The College, as may readily be supposed, as- sented most willingly to so liberal a proposal, and voted the erection of the statue of Harvey, of white marble, in the robes of a doctor, to be placed in their hall, with a Latin inscription, alluding to the two great works by which he had rendered himself immortal, and hailing him as the perpetual benefactor of their body ! The building was now begun, and finished in the following year, when Harvey invited his colleagues to a splendid entertainment ; and the doors of the museum being thrown open, the munificent old man, in the most benevolent manner, and wishing all prosperity to the republic of medicine, presented ut once the mansion and all its valuable contents to the College. He then laid down the office of professor of anatomy and surgery, which he had hitherto held ; and was succeeded in that appoint- ment by that eminent anatomist, Glisson. The building, or Museum of Harvey, as it was called, is described as a noble edifice, of Roman HARVEY. architecture, (of rustic work, with Corinthian pi- lasters,) and consisted of an elegantly-furnished convocation room, or parlour, below, and a library, filled with choice books and surgical instruments, above ; it was erected in the garden of the College of Physicians, (at that time situated in Amen Cor- ner,) which was of an irregular form, extending as far as the Old Bailey to the west, and towards the south reaching the Church of St. Martin, Lud- gate, and the Museum must have stood near the spot upon which Stationers' Hall has since been built. On the outside, on the frieze of the edifice, was the following inscription, in letters three inches long, Suasu et cura Fran. Prujeani, Prsesidis, et Edmundi Smith, Elect. Inchoata et Perf'ecta est Hffic Fabrica. An. MlQCLIII. (1653.) The regulations of a public library in London, established nearly two centuries ago, however simple in themselves, may not be entirely without interest. Besides medical books, the museum of Harvey contained treatises on geometry, geo- graphy, astronomy, music, optics, natural history, and travels. It was to be opened on Fridays, from two till five o'clock, in summer, but only till four in the winter season ; also, during all meetings of the College, and whenever else the custos or librarian being at leisure, should choose to be pre- sent; but no books were allowed to be taken out. In 1654, on the resignation of the presidency by Dr. Prujean, the College appointed Harvey, in his absence, to succeed him, and proroguing the meeting to the next day, deputed two of the elects, Dr. Alston and Dr. Hainey, to acquaint him with 54 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. this resolution. Harvey then came, and in a hand- some speech, returned them thanks for the honour they had done him, but declined the office,* on ac- count of his age and infirmities ; at the same time recommending the re-election of their former Pre- sident, which was unanimously complied with. He still, however, frequented the meetings of the Col- lege. His attachment to that body was shown yet more conspicuously in 1656; when, at the first anniversary feast, instituted by himself, he gave up his paternal estate of 561. per annum, in per- petuity, to their use. The particular purposes of this donation were the institution of an annual feast, at which a Latin oration should be spoken in com- memoration of the benefactors of the College, a gratuity for the orator, and a provision for the keeper of his library and museum. All this atten- tion to perpetuate a spirit of concord and social friendship among his brethren, was in full accord- ance with Harvey's benevolent and liberal sen- timents. For two years longer he supported, with diffi- culty, the burden of age and infirmities, and died on the 3rd of June, 1657- When seized with his mortal illness, he knew it was all over with him, and sent for his nephews, among whom he began to distribute some little presents : to one he gave the minute watch, t with which he had made his * He is, however, generally represented, both in his portraits and in his bust, as wearing the robes of office of the President of tho College. t From a remark made by Harvey incidentally, in relating one of his experiments, it would seem, that in his day, for all com- putations less than a minute there was no very definite measure of time. Speaking of the effect of warmth upon an incubated egg, oa HAUVEY. o;> experiments ; to another, a different token, and so on ; and made signs (for being seized with the dead palsy, as his biographer expresses it, in his tongue, he could not speak) to Sarabroke, his apothecary, in Blackfriars, to let him blood in the tongue : but it did no good. His death is recorded by Hamey, in his curious MS., in the following words. Gulielmi Harvsei, fortunatissimi Anatomici, desiit sanguis moveri, tertio Idus Junii, 57. cujusalioqui perennem motum, in omnibus verissime asserverat. Sepultus 26 Junii, 1657 quo die inaugurates est Cromwellus. More than three weeks, then, elapsed between his death and funeral ; but as it was attended by all the Fellows of the College to a considerable distance from the city, it was, probably, upon a scale of unusual magnificence, and some time was required to make all the necessary arrangements. To explain what Hamey says as to Cromwell's inauguration, it must be observed, that the usurper had been declared Protector four years before, and had been then installed into that high office with great solemnity ; in the year 1657? the title of king was offered him, which, after an agony and perplexity of long doubt, he felt obliged to refuse, though the representatives of the nation, in the most solemn manner, ten- dered the crown to him. " The Parliament, when the regal dignity," says Hume, " was re- jected by Cromwell, found themselves obliged to retain the name of a Commonwealth and the fourth day, he says, " Upon laying my finger warm upon it for tht space of only twenty pulses." Exercitatio 17. 56 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. Protector : and in order to sanctify the govern- ment by a seeming choice of the people, framed, what they called, an humble petition and advice ; by this deed, the Protector had the power given him of nominating his successor, had a per- petual revenue assigned him, together with other privileges. When this deed was accepted by the people, Cromwell, as if his power had just com- menced from this popular consent, was anew inaugurated in Westminster Hall, after the most solemn and most pompous manner." It was to this second ceremony that Hamey alluded. Harvey, notwithstanding the counter-assertions of Laurence and all his other biographers, certainly died, as Hamey says, in 1657, and was buried on the 26th of June, of that year ; for on reference to the Annals of the College of Physicians, it appears that, on the 25th of that month, the fol- lowing admonition to the Fellows of the College was given : Com. Solennia Trimestria. 25Junii, 1657. Monerrtur Socii, ut togali prosequi velint exequias funeris Drs. Harvaei, postero die celebrandas. One who was at his funeral, says, that he lies buried in a vault at Hampsted, Essex, which his brother Eliab built ; he is lapt in lead, and on his breast in large letters, was to be read DK. WILLIAM HARTEY. In his person he was very small in stature, round faced, of an olive complexion, with small, round, black eyes, full of spirit, and hair black as a raven, till within twenty years of his death, when 11ARVKY. 57 it became quite white. He is represented to have been, like the rest of his brothers, very choleric in his temper, and in his younger days to have worn a dagger, which he would be apt to draw upon slight occasions. But when he grew up to man- hood, and during his long life, he had the cha- racter of being candid, cheerful, upright living on terms of great harmony with his friends and brethren, showing no spirit of rivalry or hostility. He was as little disposed by nature to detract from the merits of others, as to make an ostenta- tious display of his own. The many antagonists whom his renown and the novelty of his opinions excited, were in general treated 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 was a great martyr to the gout, and his method of treating himself was as follows : He would sit with his legs bare, even if it were frosty weather, on the leads of Cockaine House, where he lived for some time with his brother Eliab, or put them into a pail of water, till he was almost dead with cold, and then he would betake himself to his stove, and so it was done. He was troubled with insomnolency, and would then get up and walk about his chamber in his shirt, till he was pretty cool, or even till he began to shiver, when he would return to bed and fall into a sleep. He and his brother, who was a Turkey merchant, drank coffee, before coffee-houses came into fashion in London. His visits to his patients he made on horseback with a foot cloth, his man following on foot, in the same way in which the 58 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. judges were then accustomed to ride to West- minster Hall. Every one will naturally wish to know what sort of practitioner so eminent a physiologist was, and in what esteem he was held as a physician by his contemporaries. It appears that he died wortli 20,000, a sum not very considerable, when we reflect that he must have been at least fifty years in practice, and was besides a court physician. One who, living with him on terms of intimacy, ought to have known the truth, has asserted that he was acquainted with several practitioners who would not give threepence for one of his bills; that his prescriptions were so complicated,* that it was difficult to make out what he aimed at that he was no chemist, and that generally his Thera- peutique was not admired. * The prescriptions of Harvey must have been multifarious indeed, in their combination, to have deserved this sarcasm, for the fashion of those days was to give very complex remedies. Perhaps the moderns err in the other extreme, and affect too much simplicity,, since it must be known to every physician of experience that a combination of similar remedies will produce a more certain, speedy, and considerable effect, than an equal dose of any one, even of the most powerful, of the drugs, that enter into the prescription ; and this is in accordance with that universal maxim in cookery, never to employ one spice if more can be procured. The very curious prescriptions ordered for his Majesty Charles II., on his death bed, are preserved in the library of the Society of Antiquaries, but they are more remarkable for the multiplicity of the signatures attached to them, than for the variety of their composition ; they are signed by no less than sixteen doctors ; the name of Charles Scarburgh (the young physician whom Harvey patronized during his stay at Oxford) standing the first of this large consultation, which is, with great propriety, denominated Medicorum Chorut. According to court etiquette, the names of all the subscribing doctors are written at full length, and not, as in ordinary circumstances, indicated by their initials only. HARVEY. 59 It is probable that Harvey was too much oc- cupied in the pursuit of knowledge, too intent upon making discoveries in the world of science, to have cultivated the bahit of quickly discrimi- nating ordinary diseases, or to have become very expert and ready in the employment of the re- sources and expedients of the practical art of me- dicine. That his buisness declined after the pub- lication of his doctrine of the circulation of the blood, he himself complained of, and ascribed to the opposition and jealousy of his rivals ; but it is more likely that the habits of abstract speculation in which he now began to indulge caused him to neglect the usual arts of gaining the confidence of the public, which if a physician once possess, he needs not the countenance, and may boldly set at defiance the envy, of his professional bre- thren. The example of Harvey may be regarded, therefore, as a splendid illustration of the truth of the opinion of a late celebrated physician, as de- clared in his posthumous work " That the most successful treatment of patients depends upon the exertion of sagacity or good common sense, guided by a competent professional knowledge." If anatomy alone were sufficient to make a great physician, who ever could have been put in com- petition with Harvey ? 60 SIR THOMAS BROWNE. THE celebrated author of the Religio Medici, was born at London, in the parish of St. Michael, in Cheapside, on the 19th of October, 1605. His father, who was a merchant of an ancient family, at Upton, in Cheshire, died during his infancy, and he was placed for his education at the school of Winchester ; but the early death of his father left him exposed to the rapacity of a guardian, and his mother marrying again, he found himself deprived, as it were, of both parents, helpless and unprotected. In the beginning of the year 1623, he was re- moved from Winchester, and entered a gentleman - commoner of Broadgate Hall, afterwards called Pembroke College, Oxford. After he had taken his Master of Arts degree, he turned his studies to physic, and, first began, rather prematurely, as it would appear, to practise his profession in Oxford- shire. Here, however, he did not remain long settled, but went over to Ireland with his father-in- law, Sir Thomas Dutton, either for the purpose of gratifying his curiosity, or induced by the promise of some advantage to himself. But lhat country had then little to attract the observation of a man of letters ; and Browne soon quitted the sister island, and passed over into France and Italy. To com- plete his medical education, he prosecuted his studies at Montpellier and Padua ; and after some SIR THOMAS BROWNE. 01 stay at these famous school?, returned home by way of Holland, and was created Doctor of Physic at the University of Leyden. Of his travels we have no certain account; and there remain no observations made by him in his passage through those countries which he visited. It is to be regretted, therefore, that we have lost the pleasure and instruction which might have been received from the remarks of a man so curi- ous and diligent ; indeed it is to be lamented, that those who are most capable of improving man- kind, so frequently neglect to communicate their knowledge, as if it were more pleasing to gather ideas than to impart them, or because, to minds naturally great, few things appear of so much im- portance as to deserve the notice of the public. Browne returned to London about the year 1634; and the next year is snpposecl to have written the celebrated treatise, Religio Medici, a work which was no sooner published, than it excited attention in an extraordinary degree. It first came out, as it was said, surreptitiously, in itself a circumstance calculated to recommend it to notice ; but besides this, it was distinguished by much learning, great subtlety, and exuberant imagination, and written in the strongest and most forcible language. Such a book was, of course, soon criticised ; and the correspondence that took place between the critic, Sir Kenelm Digby, and Browne, has been characterized as " affording an ostentatious display of conscious unworthiness, and desire of concealment, on the one part, and pompous professions of reverence and anxious apologies on the other." The letters that passed 62 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. on this occasion provoked the bile of one who himself spent his whole life in authorship, which lie vented, by remarking sarcastically, " that the reciprocal civilities of authors form one of the most risible scenes in the farce of life." When the Religio Medici appeared, the Earl of Dorset had recommended it to the perusal of Sir Kenelm Digby, who returned his judgment upon it, not in a letter, but a book. Of this Browne had been informed by the officious zeal of some good- natured friend, and before the criticism actually appeared. While it was still in the press, the irritable author wrote a letter, entitled " Upon the Information and Animadversions to come forth upon the imperfect and surreptitious copy of Religio Medici" In it, he assures Sir Kenelm, " that that book was penned many years past, and with no intention for the press, or the least desire to oblige the faith of any man to its asser- tions ; that it was contrived in his private study, and as an exercise unto himself, rather than an exercitation for any other ; that it had passed from his hand under a broken and imperfect copy, which by frequent transcription had still run forward into corruption." " If, " he writes, " when the true copy shall be extant, you shall esteem it worth your vacant hours to discourse thereon, you shall sufficiently honour me in the vouchsafe of your refutation, and I oblige the whole world in the oc- casion of your pen. Your servant, T. B." The answer of Sir Kenelm Digby contained the following passages : " Worthy Sir, Speedily upon the receipt of your letter of the third current, I sent to find SIR THOMAS BROWNE. 63 out the printer that Mr. Crook (who delivered me yours) told me was printing something] under my name concerning your treatise of Religio Medici, and to forbid him any further proceeding therein ; but my servant could not meet with him : whereupon I have left with Mr. Crook a note to that purpose, entreating him to deliver it to the printer. I verily believe there is some mistake in the information given you, and that what is printing must be from some other pen than mine ; what I writ was but the employment of one sitting; and there was not twenty-four hours between my receiving my Lord of Dorset's letter, that occa- sioned what I said, and the finishing my answer to him. I pretend to no learning : to encounter such a sinewy opposite, or make animadversion upon so smart a piece as yours, is requisite a solid stock and exercise in school-learning; my superficial besprinkling will serve only for a private letter, or a familiar discourse with lady auditors. With longing, I expect the coining abroad of the true copy of that book, whose false and stolen one hath already given me so much delight ; and so as- suring you, I shall deem it a great good fortune to deserve your favour and friendship. I kiss your hand, and rest your most humble servant, " Winchester House. KENELM DIGBY."* The author of the Religio Medici may, perhaps, in the ardour of his imagination, have hazarded an expression which a mind intent upon faults * Sir Kenelm Digby, a person, according to Lord Clarendon, rery eminent and notorious throughout the whole course of his life, from his cradle to his grave a man of very extraordinary person and presence, which drew the eyes of all men upon him, of a fair 64 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. may interpret into heresy, if considered apart from the rest of his discourse ; but a phrase is not to be opposed to volumes. There is scarcely a writer to be found (whose profession was not divinity), that has so frequently testified his belief of the sacred writings, has appealed to them with such unlimited submission, or mentioned them with such unvaried reverence. Browne professes him- self a Protestant of the Church of England, to whose faith (he writes thus) 4i I am a born sub- ject, and therefore in a double obligation sub- scribe unto her Articles, and endeavour to observe her constitutions : whatever is beyond, as points indifferent, I observe according to the rules of my private reason, or the humour and fashion of my devotion ; neither believing this because Luther affirmed it, or disproving that because Calvin hath disavouched it ; I condemn not all things in the reputation in arms, in a word, possessing all the advantages that nature and art could give him. It is impossible, however, to acquit him of excessive credulity, or of deliberate imposture ; for, on his return from his travels, in 1623, he rendered himself remarkable by the application of a secret he had met with abroad, which after- wards made so much noise in the world, under the title of the " Sympathetic Powder," by which wounds were to be cured, al- though the patient was out of sight, a piece of quackery scarcely credible. The virtues of this powder, Sir Kenelm main- tained, were thoroughly inquired into by King James, his son, the Prince of Wales, the Duke of Buckingham, with other persons of the highest distinction, and all registered among the observations of the great Chancellor Bacon, and were to be added by way of Ap- pendix to his Lordship's Natural History. On the breaking out of the civil war, he was by order of Parlia- ment committed prisoner to Winchester House, but soon afterwards set at liberty at the intercession of the Queen Dowager of France. It was here, during his confinement, in 1643, that he wrote tha " Observations," alluded to above. SIR THOMAS BROWNE. t>O Council of Trent, nor approve all in the Synod of Dort. In brief, where the Scripture is silent, the Church is my text; where that speaks, 'tis but my comment : where there is a joint-silence of both, I borrow not the rules of my religion from Rome or Geneva, but the dictates of my own rea- son. It is an unjust scandal of our adversaries, and a gross error in ourselves, to compute the nativity of our religion from Henry VIII.,* who, though he rejected the Pope, refused not the faith of Rome, &c." Religio Medici, section 1, 5. Such is Browne's confession of his own faith ; and the opinion of one t who weighed well the ar- guments for and against his orthodoxy, was, " that all testimonies on the subject apparently concurred to prove, that he was a zealous adherent to the faith of Christ, that he lived in obedience to his laws, and died in confidence of his mercy." Of the novelty of the paradoxes with which this extraordinary book abounds, the reader may form some notion, from one or two extracts. " There are a bundle of curiosities, not only in philosophy, but in divinity, propose* and discussed by men of supposed ability, which, indeed, are not worthy our vacant hours, much less our serious studies. 'Tis ridiculous to put off, or down, the general flood of Noah, in that particular inunda- tion of Deucalion ; that there was a deluge, seems * According to Buchanan, the Scottish ! ,historian, who, to escape the fury of the Franciscans, fled into England, towards the latter end of Henry's reign, "Every thing .was upon so precarious a footing, that those of both factions were burnt the same day, and with the same fire ; Henry VIII. having more regard to his own security than to the purity of religion." f Johnson. F 661 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. not to me so great a miracle, as that there is not one always. How all the kinds of creatures, net only in their own bulks, but with a competency of food and sustenance, might be preserved in one ark, and within the extent of 300 cubits, to a rea- son that rightly examines, it will appear very fea- sible. There is another secret, not contained in the Scripture, which is more hard to comprehend, and put the honest father (St. Augustin) to the refuge of a miracle ; and that is, not only how the distinct pieces of the world and divided islands should be first planted by men, but inhabited by tigers, panthers, and bears; how America abounded with beasts of prey and noxious ani- mals, yet contained not in it that necessary crea- ture, a horse, is very strange." page 61. Again " Search all the legends of times past, and the fabulous conceits of those present, and 'twill be hard to find one that deserves to carry the buckler unto Sampson ; yet is all this of an easy possibility, if we conceive a divine concourse, or an influence ^om the little finger of the Al- mighty." In the Religio Medici^ the author speaks much, and, in the opinion of Digby, too much of himself; but yet so generally and concisely as not to afford much light to his biographer ; but what most awakens curiosity is, his solemn assertion, that " his life has been a miracle of thirty years ; which to relate, were not history, but a piece of poetry, and would sound like a fable." The wonders to which he alludes, were proba- bly the visionary transactions of his own mind, the result of self-love operating upon a vigorous SIR THOMAS BROWNE. 67 imagination ; for the biography of Browne does not afford us any remarkable occurrences to relate ; on the contrary, is as uniform and devoid of ad- venture as that of the most- retired man of letters could possibly be. His history, therefore, will be chiefly comprised in the history of his works, which were numerous, and full of interest and curiosity. Dr. Browne settled, in 1636, at Norwich, where his practice soon became very extensive, many patients resorting to him for advice; and in 1637, he was incorporated doctor of physic in the Uni- versity of Oxford. A few years after, he married Mrs. Mileham, of a good family in the county " a lady (as she is described) of such symmetrical proportion to her worthy husband, both in the graces of her body and mind, that they seemed to come together by a kind of natural magnetism." This marriage could- not but draw the raillery of contemporary wits upon a man who had just been wishing, in his " Religio Medici," that " we might procreate like trees," and had lately declared, that " the whole world was made for man, but only the twelfth part of man for woman " and that man " is the whole world, but woman only the rib, or crooked part of man." Whatever were the opin- ions of her husband, or by whatever motives the lady herself had been induced to marry a man pro- fessing such strange notions, she had no reason to repent her choice, for she lived happily with him one and forty years, and bore him ten children, of whom one son and three daughters outlived their parents. In 1646, his work entitled Enquiries into F 2 68 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. Vulgar and Common Errors appeared, which, as it did not arise, like his former one, from fancy and invention, but from observation and the study of books, and was an enumeration of many uncon- nected particulars, must have been the collection of years, and the result of a design early formed and long pursued. Of its originality, and conse- quent difficulty, he speaks himself in his preface "We hope it will not be unconsidered, that we find no open tract, or constant manuduction, in this labyrinth ; but are ofttimes fain to wander in the America and untravelled parts of truth. And therefore we are often constrained to stand alone against the strength of opinion, and to meet the Goliath and giant of authority, with contemptible pebbles, and feeble arguments, drawn from the scrip and slender stock of ourselves." Of this ingenious, amusing, and rambling far- rago, a few specimens may be selected at random. " The conceit and opinion of the Centaurs be- gan in the mistake of the beholders, as is declared by Servius, when some young Thessalians on horse- back were beheld afar off, while their horses wa- tered, that is, while their heads were depressed, they were conceived by the spectators to be but one animal, and answerable hereunto have their pictures been drawn ever since." Pseudodoxia Ejndemica, book i., page 13. "The antipathy between a toad and a spider, and that they poisonously destroy each other, is very famous, and solemn stories have been written of their combats ; wherein most commonly the vic- tory is given unto the spider of what toads and spiders, it is to be understood, would be considered. SIR THOMAS BUOAVNE. For the Phalangium and deadly spiders are dif- ferent from those we generally behold in England. However, the verity hereof, as also of many other?, we cannot but desire ; for hereby we might surely be provided of proper antidotes in cases which require them ; but what we have observed herein, we cannot in reason conceal ; who having, in a glass, included a toad with several spiders, we be- held the spiders, without resistance, to sit upon his head, and pass over all his body, which at last, upon advantage, he swallowed down, and that iu few hours, unto the number of seven. And in the like manner will toads also serve bees, and are ac- counted enemies unto their hives." p. 203. " Wondrous things are promised from the glow- worm ; thereof perpetual lights are pretended, and waters said to be distilled which afford a lustre in the night : and this is asserted by Cardan, Alber- tus, Gaudentinus, Mizaldus, and many more. But hereto we cannot with reason assent ; for the light made by this animal depends upon a living spirit, and seems by some vital irradiation to be actuated into this lustre. For when they are dead, they shine not, nor always while they live, but are ob- scure or light according to the diffusion of this spirit, and the protrusion of their luminous parts, as observation will instruct us. For this flamme- ous light is not over all the body, but only visible on the inward side, in a small white part near the tail. When this is full and seemeth protruded, there ariseth a flame of a circular figure, and eme- rald-green colour, which is more discernible in any dark place, than day; but when it falleth and seemeth contracted, the light disappeareth, and the 70 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. colour of that part only remaineth. Now this light, as it appeareth and disappeareth in their life, so doth it go qnite out at their death As we hare observed in some, which, preserved in fresh grass, have li ved and shined eighteen days ; but as they declined, their light grew languid, and at last went out with their lives. Thus also the Torpedo, which alive, hath power to stupify at a^ distance ; hath none, upon contact, being dead, as Galen and Rondeletius particularly experimented. And thus far also those philosophers concur with us, which held the sun and stars were living creatures, for they conceived their lustre depended on their lives : but if they ever died, their light must also perish." p. 205. In his chapter of the Bear, book iii., he says " That a bear brings forth her young informous and unshapen, which she fashioneth after by lick- ing them over, is an opinion, not only vulgar, and common with us at present, but hath been of old delivered by ancient -writers. Upon this foundaT tion it was an hieroglyphic with the Egyptians. Aristotle seems to countenance it ; Solinus, Pliny, and ^Elian directly affirm it ; and Ovid smoothly delivereth it : but this opinion is repugnant unto the sense of every one that shall inquire into it, and Aldrovandus, from the testimony of his own eyes, amrmeth that in the cabinet of the senate of Bo- nonia there was preserved in a glass, a cub, dis- sected out of a bear, perfectly formed, and com- plete in every part." p. 123. About the basilisk he is somewhat puzzled, but of the wolf he speaks as follows : "Such a story as the basilisk, is that of the SIR THOMAS BROWNE. 71 wolf, concerning priority of vision that a man becomes hoarse, or dumb, if a wolf have the ad- vantage first to eye him. So say Pliny, Theo- critus, and Virgil and thus is the proverb to be understood, when during the discourse if the party or subject interveneth, and there ensueth a sudden silence, it is usually said, Lupus est in fabula. The ground, or occasional original hereof, was, probably, the amazement and sudden silence the unexpected appearance of wolves do often put upon travellers ; not by a supposed vapour or veno- mous emanation, but a vehement fear, which na- turalJy produceth obmutescence ; and sometimes irrecoverable silence. Thus birds are silent in presence of a hawk, and Pliny saith that dogs are mute in the shadow of a hyena." p/129. These extracts will serve to show the nature of this curious book ; which exhibits much shrewd- ness and common sense, though the author of it was not himself altogether free from the credulity which he reprehends and exposes in others, as will appear from the following anecdote : Browne having heard a flying rumour of sympathetic needles, by which, suspended over a circular alpha- bet, distant friends or lovers might correspond, he procured two such alphabets to be made, touched his needles with the same magnet, and placed them upon proper spindles ; the result was, that when he moved one of his needles, the other, in- stead of taking by sympathy the same direction, " stood like the pillars of Hercules." Dr. John- son, when relating this story, observes, in his characteristic manner, " that it continued motion- less will be easily believed ; and most men would 72 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. hare been content to believe it, without the labour of so hopeless an experiment. Browne might him- self have obtained the same conviction by a method less operose, if he had thrust his needles through corks, and then set them afloat in two basins of water." It is singular also, that notwithstanding his zeal to detect old errors, he seems not very easy to admit new positions ; for he never mentions the motion of the earth but with contempt and ridicule, though the opinion which admits it was then grow- ing popular, and was surely plausible, even before it was confirmed as an established truth by later observations. Having now twice experienced the delights of authorship, "and become callous to the molesta- tions of censure, he took an early opportunity of appearing again before the public. In 1658, the discovery of some ancient urns in Norfolk gave him occasion to write " A Discourse of Sepulchral Urns,"* in which he treats, with his usual learn- ing, on the funeral rites of the ancient nations, exhibits their various treatment of the dead ; and examines the substances found in the urns dis- covered in Norfolk. There is, perhaps, none of his works which better exemplifies his reading or memory. It is scarcely to be imagined how many particulars he has amassed together, in a treatise which seems to have been written for the occasion ; and for which, therefore, no materials could have been previously collected. In his epistle dedicatory to his worthy and honoured friend, Thomas Le Gros, of Crostwick, Esquire, he observes, "when the funeral pyre * Hydriotaphia, as h learnedly calls this treatise. SIR THOMAS BROWNE. 73 was out, and the last valediction over, men took a lasting adieu of their interred friends, little expect- ing the curiosity of future ages should comment upon their ashes, and haying no old experience of the duration of their reliques, held no opinion of such after-consideration. But who knows the fate of his hones, or how often he is to he hurled ?" He thinks that the practice of burning and bury- ing the body were equally ancient. According to some tradition, Adam was buried near Damascus, or Mount Calvary ; and Abraham and the pa- triarchs were also buried. Hector was burned before the gates of Troy. Among the Romans, Manlius, the consul, burnt the body of his son; but Numa, by a special clause in his will, was not burnt, but buried ; and Remus was also solemnly buried. The two ceremonies seem, therefore, to have been coeval and indifferent. The origin of cremation, or burning, he thinks, may be attributed to the opinions of those ancient philosophers who conceived that fire was the master principle in the composition of our bodies ; and, therefore, funeral piles were heaped up, in order to waft them more speedily to their 'native element. But the Indian Brahmins, he is rather disposed to think, " are too great friends unto fire, for they imagine it the noblest way to end their days in fire, and there- fore burn themselves alive." He mentions the dif- ferent modes of burying as practised by various nations, and remarks that the rites of sepulture do not seem to be confined to man, for there would appear to be some approach to this practice among elephants, cranes, ants, and bees; "the latter 74 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. civil society," says Browne, " at least carry out their dead, and hath exequies, if not interments." The discovery which gave immediate occasion to his Treatise, he relates in the following words : " In a field of old Walsingham, not many months past, were digged up between forty and fifty urns, deposited in a dry and sandy soil not a yard deep, not far from one another; not all strictly of one figure, but most answering those described ; some containing two pounds of bones, distinguish- able in sculls, ribs, jaws, thigh-bones, and teeth, with fresh impressions of their combustion ; besides the extraneous substances, like pieces of small boxes, combs handsomely wrought, handles of small brass instruments, brazen nippers, and in one, some kind of opale." p. 6. Coals and cinders were dug up in the neighbourhood, from which he conjectures that this was the place (us- trina) for burning their bodies. The urns them- selves, he supposes to be Roman, and either con- taining the ashes of Romans themselves, or of Romanized natives, who had adopted and observed the customs of their conquerors. The spot was not far from a Roman station or garrison, five miles only from Brancaster, anciently called Brannodu- num. He thinks that Britain was formerly very po- pulous : and though many Roman habitations are not known, yet that the Romans were at one time in great number in this country, would appear from the fact that 70,000, with their associates, were slain in the battle in which Queen Boadicea com- manded. That Britain was a conquest held in great esteem by the Romans, there can be no doubt: SIR THOMAS BROWNE. 75 in fact, though so far removed from the capital of the empire, no fewer than ten imperial persons had visited it, viz., Ca?sar, Claudius, Britannicus, Ves- pasian, Titus, Adrian, Severus, Commodus, Geta, and Caracalla. Of the precise antiquity of these reliques in Nor- folk, nothing could be known, for there were no ancient coins or medals enclosed within the urns, which might lead to any conjecture about the date of the interment. In some which had been dug up " in Spittlefields (Spitalfields), near London, the coins of Claudius, Vespasian, Commodus, Anto- ninus, together with lachrymatories, lamps, bottles of liquor, and other articles of affectionate super- stition," had been discovered. From the thinness of the bones in the Norfolk urns, particularly of the skulls, the smallness of the teeth, and the slen- derness of the ribs and thigh-bones, it was not im- probable that many of them were the remains of women, or of persons of tender age. After a very learned dissertation upon the funeral customs of the Greeks, the Romans, the Egyptians, the Jews, the Danes, &c., he concludes in favour of crema- tion^ or burning ; for, says he, " to be knaved out of our graves, to have our sculls made drinking bowls, and our bones turned into pipes, to delight and sport our enemies, are tragical abominations, escaped in burning burials." p. 17. To this Treatise on Urn-burial, the author added another upon the Garden of Cyrus, or the Quin- cunxial Lozenge, or Net-work Plantation of the ancients. It has been well observed that some of the most pleasing literary performances have been produced by learning and genius exercised upon 76 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. subjects of little importance, as it seems to have been the pride of wit, in all ages, to show how it could exalt the low, and amplify the little. In the prosecution of this sport of fancy, Browne con- siders every production of art and nature, in which he could find any decussation or approach to the form of a quincunx ;* and as a man once resolved upon ideal discoveries seldom searches long in vain, he finds his favourite figure in almost every thing, so that a reader might be led to imagine, that decussation was the great business of the world. Though he has, doubtless, carried this notion to a laughable extreme, yet the fanciful sports of great minds are never without some ad- vantage to knowledge. Browne has interspersed many curious observations on the form of plants, and the laws of vegetation ; arid appears to have been a very accurate observer of the modes of germination, and to have watched with great nicety the evolution of the parts of plants from their seminal principals. The tracts above alluded to are all which he put forth during his lifetime ; but after his death many papers were found in his closet, corrected and transcribed by his own hand, and, to all appearance, intended for the press ; several of which were after- wards published. Of these posthumous treatises, there may be noticed, " Observations upon several Plants mentioned in Scripture." These remarks, though they do not immediately rectify the faith, or refine the morals of the reader, yet are by no means to be censured as superfluous niceties, or * A row or rank, in the form of a five in cards SIR THOMAS BROWNE. 77 useless speculations : they often show some pro- priety of description, or elegance of allusion, ut- terly undiscoverable to readers not skilled in oriental botany ; and are sometimes of more im- portant use, as they remove some difficulty from narration, or some obscurity from precepts. A se- cond of these tracts is entitled, " Of Garlands, or Coronary or Garland Plants." A third is, " A letter on the Fishes eaten by our Saviour with his Disciples, after his Resurrection from the Dead :" this treatise is unsatisfactory, however, in its result, as all the information that diligence or learning could supply, consists in an enumera- tion of the fishes produced in the waters of Judea. A fourth is entitled, " Answers to certain Queries about Fishes, Birds, and Insects, and a Letter of Hawks and Falconry, ancient and modern." This last has some curious observations on the art of hawking,* which he considers as a practice un- known to the ancients. Another of his discourses is, " On Languages, and particularly the Saxon Tongue." " So much," he observes, " of the old Saxon still remains in our English, as may admit of an orderly discourse and series of good sense, such as not only the present English, but ^Elfree, Bede, and Alfred might understand, after so many hundred years. It is true that we have borrowed from the French many substantives, adjectives, and some * One of the oldest practices in falconry he mentions to have been the following: -"If a hawk were unquiet, they hooded him, and placed him in a smith's shop for some time, where, accustomed to the continual noise of hammering, he became more gentle and tractable." 78 " BRITISH PHYSICIANS. verbs ; but the great body of numerals, auxiliary verbs, articles, pronouns, adverbs, conjunctions, and prepositions, which are the distinguishing and lasting part of a language, remain with us from the Saxon." To prove his position, he has drawn up a short discourse of six paragraphs, in Saxon and English, of which every word is the same in both languages, excepting the terminations and orthography. These are specimens SAXON. The erst and fyrmost staep to eal gode weorka is the draed and feurt of the Lauord of heofan and eorth while thurh the Heilig Gast on- lihtneth the blindnesse of ure sinfull heorte to trsed the waeg of wisdome, and thone Iced ure fet into the land of blessung. For to fuorgytan his laga is the dure, the gat, and cseg, to let in eal unrightwisnysse, makend ure eyge, core, and muth to answare the lust of sin, ure braegan dole to gode theoht, ure lippan dumb to his preys, ure earen deaf to his gospel, and ure eyge dim to behealden his wundra, while gewitnysse ongen us, that wee cef noht wel gelsered the weord of God, that wee are the cilda of ured, unwyrthe of the lufe and meenigfeald gift of God, grediglice fely- gend after the waegen of the deoful and wiccraft of the weorld, doend nothing to fry and caep ure saula from the ENGLISH. The first and foremost step to all good works is the dread and fear of the Lord of heaven and earth, which, thorough, the Holy Ghost, enlighteneth the blindness of our sinfull hearts to tread the ways of wisedom, and leads our feet into the land of blessing. For to forget his law is the door, the gate, and key, to let in all unrighteousness, making our eyes, ears, and mouths to answer the lust of sin, our brains dull to good thoughts, our lips dumb to his praise, our ears deaf to his gospel, and our eyes dim to behold his wonders, which witness against us, that we have not well learned the word of God, that we are the children of wrath, unworthy of the love and manifold gifts of God, greedily follow- ing after the ways of the devil and witchcraft of the world, doing nothing to free and keep ourselves from the SIR THOMAS BROWNE. 79 ENGLISH. burning fire of hell, till we be buried in sin, and swal- lowed in death, not to arise again in any hope of Christ's kiflgdom. Which draw from above the bitter doom of the Al- mighty of hunger, sword, sickness, and brings more sad plagues than those of hail, storms, thunder, blood, frogs, swarms of gnats and grass- hoppers, which ate the corn, grass, and leaves of the trees If we read his book and holy writ, these among many others, we shall find to be the tokens of his hate, which ga- thered together might mind us of his will, and teach us when his wrath beginneth, which sometimes comes in open strength and full sail, oft steals like a thief in the night, like shafts shot from a bow at midnight, before we think upon them. Thus are we far beneath, and also worse than, the rest of God's works ; for the sun and moon, the king and queen of stars, snow, ice, rain, frost, dew, mist, wind, four-footed and creeping things, fishes, and feathered birds and fowls, either of sea or land, do all hold the laws of his will. SAXON. byrnend fyr of hell, till we be geburied in synne and swolgen in death, not to arise agen in senig hope of Christes kynedome. While drag from . buf the bitter dome of the Almagan of hunger, sweorde, seok- nesse, and bring mere sad plag thone they of hagal, storme, thunner, blode, frog, swearme of gnajt, gsersupper, while eaten the corn, goers, and leaf of the treowen in. ^Egypt. Gyf we reed his boc and hei- lig gewrit, these gmong mse- nig othern, we sceall findan the tacna of his hatung, while gcgatherod together miht ge- mind us of his willan, and teac us whone his ured on- ginneth, while sometima come in open strength and fill seyle, oft stsel gelyc a theof in the niht, gelyc sceaft scoten fram a boge at midneoht, beforan we thinck uppen them. Thus eare we far beneoth, and ealso wyrse thone, the rest of God's weorka ; for the sun and mone, the cyng and cquen of stearran, snaw, ise, ren, frost, deaw, miste, wind, feowerfet and crypend dinga, fix, yefetherod brd and f;elan, auther in sse or land, do eal heold the lag of his willan. 80 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. Besides the tracts already enumerated, he left behind him one, of " Artificial Hills, Mounts, and Burrows in England ;" another, " of the Answers of the Oracle of Apollo at Delphos ;'* also, " A Prophecy concerning the Future State of several Nations;" and " Museum Clausum," in which the author amuses himself with imagining the existence of books and curiosities, which either never were in being, or are irrecoverably lost. There were also published, as posthumous works of his, " Some Account of the Tombs and Monu- ments in the Cathedral of Norwich," and " An- swers to Sir William Dugdale's Inquiries about the Fens," together with some other small pieces. In the Biographia Britannica, is inserted a letter of his, containing " Instructions for the Study of Physic ;" and some essays, entitled " Christian Morals," are attributed to him. From the enumeration of these different works, all exhibiting very great talent, ingenuity, and acquirement, he will appear to have fully merited the distinction conferred upon him by the College of Physicians, who chose him an honorary fellow of their body in 1665 ; and to have abundantly de- served the character given of him on that occasion virtute et literis ornatissimus, "eminently em- bellished with literature and virtue." But it is not on the praises of others, but on his own writings that he is to depend for the esteem of posterity, of which he will not easily be deprived, while learning shall have any reverence among men : for there is no science in which he does not discover some skill ; and scarce any kind of know- ledge, profane or sacred, abstruse or elegant, . SIR THOMAS BROWNE. 81 which he does not appear to have cultivated with success. However, if his style has great excel- lences, it must be allowed that it is not without its faults. The pen of Johnson has characterized it as "vigorous, hut rugged; learned, but pedantic; deep, but obscure ;" with other pointed antitheses, in a manner not altogether free from the defects which he is himself reprehending. The high strain of moral reflection with which Browne closes his Treatise on Urn -burial, affords passages of splendid eloquence that cannot easily be equalled. For example "There is no antidote against the opium of time, which temporally considereth all things. Our fa- thers find their graves in our short memories, and sadly tell us how we may be buried in 'our sur- vivors'. To be read by bare inscriptions, like many in Gruter; to hope for eternity by any metrical epithets, or first letters of our names ; to be studied by antiquaries who we were, and have new names given us like many of the mummies, are cold consolations unto the students of perpe- tuity, even by everlasting languages. "The night of time far surpasseth the day who knows when was the eequinox ? Every hour adds unto that current arithmetic, which scarce stands one moment. Darkness and light divide the course of time, and oblivion shares with memory a great part even of our living beings. "Who knows whether the best of men be known ; or whether there be not more remarkable persons forgot than any that stand remembered in the known account of time? The sufficiency of Chris- tian immortality frustrates all earthly glory, and G 82 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. the quality of either state, after death, makes a folly of posthumous memory. But man is a noble animal, splendid in ashes and pompous in the grave, solemnizing nativities and deaths with equal lustre, nor omitting ceremonies of bravery in the infamy of his nature." In 1671, Browne received the honour of knight- hood from Charles II. at Norwich, where he con- tinued to live in high reputation, till, in his 76th year, he was seized with a colic, which, after hav- ing tortured him about a week, put an end to his life, October 19, 1682. Of the brilliant qualities of the mind of Sir Tho- mas Browne, the reader may judge by consulting his works ; for an account of his minute peculiari- ties we are indebted to the hand of friendship. Mr. Whitefoot, who knew him intimately, says, " His complexion and hair were, like his name, brown, his stature moderate, his habit of body neither fat nor lean. In his clothing, he had an aversion to all finery, and affected plainness both in the fash- ion and ornament. He kept himself always very warm, and thought it most safe so to do, though he never loaded himself with such a multitude of garments as Suetonius reports of Augustus, enough to clothe a good family. He was never seen to be transported with mirth, or dejected with sadness. Always cheerful, but rarely merry; seldom heard to break a jest, and when he did he would be apt to blush at the levity of it: his gravity was natural without affectation. Parsimonious in nothing but his time, whereof he made as much improvement with as little loss as any man in it ; when he had any to spare from his practice, he was scarce pa- SIR THOMAS BROWNE. 83 tient of any diversion from his study : so impatient of sloth and idleness, that he would say, tie could not do nothing. He understood most of the Euro- pean languages, Latin and Greek critically, and a little Hebrew. He went to church constantly, when he was not prevented by his practice, and never missed the sacrament of his parish if he was in town (Norwich). He read the best Eng- lish sermons he could hear of, and delighted not in controversies. He might have made good the old saying of Dot Galenus opes, had he lived in a place that could have afforded it, but there was small scope at Norwich to acquire great profes- sional gains." He was indulgent and liberal to his children; two of his sons travelled into various countries, and two of his daughters were sent to France. Such expenses, added to his hospitality and abundant charities, prevented the accumula- tion of a large fortune ; but he bequeathed a com- fortable estate to his widow and children. On his monument, in the church of St. Peter Man- croft, Norwich, is the following inscription ; Near the Foot of this Pillar Lies Sir Thomas Browne, Kt. and Doctor in Physick. Author of Religio Medici, and other Learned Books, Who practic'd Physick in this city 46 years, And died Oct. 1682, in the 77 year of his Age, In Memory of whom Dame Dorothy Browne, who had bin his Affectionate Wife 41 Years, caused this Monument' to be Erected. 84 SYDENHAM. THIS great man effected a real revolution in phy- sic, and no one ever had a more just claim to the title of a restorer of true medical science. But his was the triumph, not so much of transcendent genius, as of good sense over vague hypothe- sis: to him the praise belongs of having been an accurate observer, who, endowed with great sa- gacity, conducted his researches with skill, and was guided by a sure method in all his investig tions. In a word, no physician ever exerted so beneficial an influence over that branch of the art, to which all others are subservient, viz. its practi- cal application. His claims to our admiration will appear the greater, if we reflect for a moment, that he lived at a time when chemistry, and the sect of the mathematical physicians, were in the highest vogue ; and pause to consider the difficul- ties which he must have encountered, when he recommended to his countrymen to follow the footsteps of nature and experience. Thomas Sydenham was born in the year 1624, at Wynford Eagle, in Dorsetshire, where his fa- ther, William Sydenham, Esq. had a large fortune. The house in which he was born was formerly a considerable mansion, but it is now converted into a farm-house, and stands on the property of the present Lord Wynford. SYDENHAM. 85 86 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. Under whose care he was educated, or in what manner he passed his childhood what youthful discoveries he made of a genius peculiarly adapted to the study of nature what presages of his future eminence in medicine he afforded no information is to be obtained. That he gave some early indi- cations of talent can, however, scarcely be doubted, since it has been observed, that there is no in- stance of any man, whose history has been mi- nutely related, that did not in every part of his life discover the same proportion of intellectual vigour. At the age of eighteen, he was entered a com- moner of Magdalen Hall, Oxford, in midsummer term, 1642, but left the university as soon as it became a garrison for Charles I. Now the battle of Edge Hill was fought in the month of October of that year, and a few days afterwards the king retired to Oxford. At this distance of time, it is curious to speculate whether the young Sydenham, a freshman at College, could by any possibility have become acquainted with the great discoverer of the circulation of the blood, then in attendance upon the unfortunate monarch : probably not. It is certain they espoused different sides in politics : for while Harvey was a staunch royalist, Syden- ham joined the army of the Parliament, though he spent a few years only in the camp, and never attained a higher rank than that of captain. His ultimate choice of a profession was determined by an accidental acquaintance with Dr. Coxe, a physician eminent at that time in London, who in some sickness prescribed for the brother of Sydenham, and, entering into conversation with him, inquired what walk of life he designed to SYDENHAM. 87 follow. The young man answering that he was undetermined, the doctor recommended physic to him, and his persuasion was so effectual, that he returned to Oxford, for the purpose of enjoying leisure and opportunity to pursue his medical studies. Here he employed himself with dili- gence ; and was created bachelor of physic, April 14, 1648, at the visitation of the university by the Earl of Pembroke. It is not true, therefore, as has been asserted by Sir Richard Blackmore, that " he was made a physician by accident and necessity, without any preparatory discipline, or previous knowledge, and that he never deigned to take it up as a profes- sion, till the civil wars were composed, when, feeing a disbanded officer, he entered upon it for a maintenance." Sir Richard, after hazarding these assertions, tells us in proof of them the following story : " When one day I asked Sydenham to advise me what books I should read to qualify me for practice ' Read Don Quixote,' replied he, ' it is a very good book, I read it still.' So low an opin- ion," continues the knight, " had this celebrated man of the learning collected out of the authors, his predecessors." Upon this story it has been shrewdly remarked, " That Sydenham recommend- ed Don Quixote to Blackmore, we are not allowed to doubt ; but the relater is hindered by that self- love which dazzles all mankind from discovering that he might intend a satire, very different from a general censure, of all the ancient and modern writers on medicine, since he might, perhaps, mean, either seriously or in jest, to insinuate that Blackmore was not adapted by nature to the study 88 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. of physic, and that whether he should read Cer- vantes or Hippocrates, he would be equally un- qualified for practice, and equally unsuccessful in it." Thus does Johnson repel the charge brought against Sydenham, of haying commenced practice without previous study; but why it should be thought necessary to deny that he exercised his profession for a maintenance, does not seem very obvious; his father, indeed, may be allowed to have been a gentleman of plentiful estate, and j r et the son require the emoluments of a gainful profession; and who has ever practised physic, and risen to any eminence in it, who has disdained to receive the reward of his skill and diligence ? About this time, Sydenham was elected a fel- low of All Souls' College, and remained some years at Oxford, studying his profession, but he took his doctor's degree at Cambridge. On leaving the English universities, he travelled to Montpellier, at that time the most celebrated school of physic, in quest of further information, and on his return to his native country, settled in Westminster, where he soon rose to eminence as a practitioner. In 1663, on the 25th June, when he was thirty-nine years of age, he was admitted a member of the College of Physicians of London. The biography of Sydenham is remarkably barren of events, more so, perhaps, than that of any other eminent physician, and it is only by perusing his works carefully, that one is enabled to pick up a few solitary facts illustrative of his private his- tory. Of his published treatises, it has been said, that most of them were extorted from him by his friends, and several written, by way of letter, to SYDENHAM. 89 gentlemen who desired his opinion on any parti- cular suhject, or pressed him to make public what observations he had made. His " Methodus Curandi Febres, &c. " ap- peared for the first time in 1666, and the chapter on small-pox, which it contains, is extremely interesting, not only because it presents us with his novel method of treating the disease, but be- cause it furnishes a most curious example of the caution with which he reasoned upon the cause or origin of that formidable malady. It has lately been asserted, that no hint whatever is to be found in the writings of Sydenham, that he thought the small-pox could arise from contagion ; a trace, however, is discoverable in the treatise of which we are now speaking, that the idea had once crossed his mind, though he ultimately rejected it. To enlarge upon this very curious piece of medical literature, would here be out of place ; yet the ge- neral reader can scarcely fail to be surprised, that so obvious a property as the contagious nature of the small-pox, should have escaped the sagacity of such a man as Sydenham. So, however, it was ! As to his practice in that disease, it is best ex- plained in his own words " I see no reason," says he, " why the patient should be kept stifled in bed, but rather that he may rise and sit up a few hours every day, provided the injuries arising from the extremes of heat and cold be prevented, both with respect to the place wherein he lies, and his manner of clothing." The rivals of Syden- ham contended, that the whole of his treatment consisted in doing nothing, and that he made a great stir about what, according to him, might be 90 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. comprehended in two words nihil agendum. This opposition on the part of his medical brethren, to- gether with the prejudices of mankind, threw many obstacles in the way of its general adoption, but its author foretold with confidence, and with truth, that, after his own death, it would prevail. The fact is, that though Sydenham lived in the first degree of reputation, enjoyed the friendship and acquaint- ance of many of the most eminent men of his day, amongst others, that of the illustrious Locke, and was in very considerable practice, yet he never possessed that overwhelming ascendency and irre- sistible popularity which his immediate successor attained. Nor were the improvements of Syden- ham fully appreciated by the world, till they were forced upon the notice of the public by Radcliffe, who, in this way, advanced the art of medicine much more than by any original discoveries of his own. The part he took in the civil wars, and the politics of his brother, William Sydenham, who, under the Protectorate, obtained many high ap- pointments, amongst others, the post of governor of the Isle of Wight, might possibly have kept him out of favour with the court ; in truth, he appears to have been desirous only of conscientiously doing his duty to the utmost of his power, and chiefly anxious to practise his profession in the most unostentatious manner. His distaste for popu- larity (for it could not be affectation in so candid a, nature) may be inferred from these expres- sions, in the epistle prefixed to his chapter on the gout : " I do not much value public applause ; and, indeed, if the matter be rightly weighed, the SYDENHAM. 9l providing for esteem (I being now an old man) will be, in a short time, the same as to provide for that which is not : for what advantage will it be to me after I am dead, that eight alphabetical ele- ments, reduced into that order that will compose my name, shall be pronounced by those who come after me ?" At the commencement of his professional life, it is handed down to us by tradition, that it was his ordinary custom, when consulted by patients for the first time, to hear attentively the story of their complaints, and then say, " Well, I will con- sider of your case, and in a few days will order something for you." But he soon discovered that this deliberate method of proceeding was not satis- factory, and that many of the persons so received forgot to come again ; and he was consequently obliged to adopt the usual practice of prescribing immediately for the diseases of those who sought his advice. Ha In 1668, a new edition of his Methodus, &c., appeared, to which was added a chapter upon the great plague of 1665. Sydenham observes, that some might think him rash and arrogant, for pre- tending to write upon this subject, as he was seve- ral miles distant from the city, during the greatest part of the time the plague raged, and therefore might be supposed not to be sufficiently furnished with observations : but " seeing that more skilful physicians, who bravely ventured to continue dur- ing so very dangerous a time, have not yet written upon that subject, he hopes that all good men will pardon him for publishing his opinion upon that dreadful national calamity." It seems that he 92 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. remained in the metropolis till about tlie middle of June, 1665, about which time the plague raged so cruelly, that in the space of seven days it destroyed as many thousands in London. Then, being en- dangered by the near approach of the pestilence to his own house, at length by the persuasion of friends, he accompanied the vast numbers of those that left the city, and removed his family some miles from thence. The scene he left behind was of this appalling description : la the months of August and Sep- tember, three, four, or five thousand died in a week: once eight thousand. In some houses carcases lay waiting for burial ; and in others, persons in their last agonies. In one room were heard dying groans, in another the ravings of delirium, and not far off relations and friends bewailing their loss, and the dismal prospect of their own departure. Some of the infected ran about staggering like drunken men, and fell and expired in the streets ; others lay comatose, never to be awakened but by the last trump ; others fell dead in the market while buying necessaries for the support of life ; the divine was taken in the exercise of his priestly office, and physicians found no safety in their own antidotes, but died administering them to others. It was not uncommon to see an inheritance pass successively to three or four heirs in as many days. The number of sextons was not sufficient to bury the dead. The bells seemed hoarse with continued tolling, and at last ceased. The burial places could not hold the dead : they were thrown into large pits dug in waste grounds, in heaps of thirty or forty together. It often happened that those SYDENHAM. 93 who attended the fiNierals of their friends one evening, were the next carried to their own long home ; and yet the Avorst was not certain, for the disease, as yet, had no relaxation." Such is the relation of an eye-witness,* who was one of the physicians appointed by government to visit the sick. The first appearance of this dreadful pestilence is thus described : " Towards the close of the"year 1664, two or three persons died suddenly, at- tended with symptoms that plainly manifested the nature of the disease : hereupon some timid neigh- bours moved into the city, and unfortunately carried the contagion with them ; and, for want of confining the persons who were first seized, the whole city was, in a little time, irrecoverably in- fected. As soon as it was rumoured that the plague was in the city, it was impossible to relate what accounts were spread of its fatality ; every one predicted its future devastations, and terrified each other with remembrance of a former pesti- lence. It seems quite ascertained, that it was imported into London by goods from Holland, brought thither from the Levant, and first broke out in a house in Long -acre, near the end of Drury-lane, where those goods were carried, and first opened ; two Frenchmen dying, the family endeavoured to conceal it, but it spread from that house to others, by the unwary communication with those who were sick ; and infected the parish- officers who were employed about the dead: it went on, and proceeded from person to person, from house to house. * Hodges Loimologia. 94 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. " In the first house that was infected, there died four persons ; a neighbour, hearing that the mis- tress of the house was ill, visited her, and carried home the distemper to her family, and died, with all her household. A minister, called to pray with the first sick person in the second house, was said to sicken and die immediately, with several more in his family. A Frenchman, who lived near the infected houses, removed for fear of the dis- temper, into Bearbinder lane, and died, to the great affliction of the city. Then the physicians began to deliberate, for they did not at first imagine it to be a general contagion ; but the Secretaries of State got notice of it, and ordered two physi- cians and a surgeon to inspect the bodies, who assured the people, that it was neither more nor less than the plague, with all its terrifying parti- culars; and that it threatened a universal infec- tion, so many people having already conversed with the sick or distempered, and having, as might be supposed, received infection from them, that it might be impossible to put a stop to it. This filled people's heads so, that few cared to go through Drury-lane. ",As soon as the magistracy, to whom the public care belonged, saw how the contagion daily in- creased, and had now extended itself to several parishes, an order was immediately issued out, to shut up all the infected houses, that neither rela- tions nor acquaintance might unwarily receive it from them ; and to keep the infected from carrying it about with them. " Terror and apprehension now led the multitude into a thousand weak and absurd things, which SYDEXHAM. 95 there wanted not persons wicked enougli to encou- rage : people were seen running about to fortune- tellers, cunning men, and astrologers, to have their nativities cast, and to know their fortunes. This folly made the town swarm with wicked pretenders to magic and the black art ; it be- came common for them to have signs with inscrip- tions, Here Iweth an astrologer Friar Bacons ftead Mother Shipton a Merlin^ or the like ; in short, the usual signs of these impostors were to be seen in almost every street. One great mis- chief was, if these deluders were asked if there would be a plague, they all agreed to answer, yes ; for that maintained their trade : had the people not been kept in a fright, the wizards would have been rendered useless, and their craft at an end ; but they always talked of the influences of stars and conjunctions of planets, which must, necessarily, bring sickness, distempers, and the plague. Saturn and Jupiter had been observed in conjunction, in Sagittarius, on the 10th of Oc- tober ; and Saturn and Mars also, in the same sign, on the 12th of November ! There was no remedy for this horrid delusion, till the plague put an end to it, by clearing the town of most of these mock calculators. "Before this happened, many of the people, given up to prophecies, dreams, and old wives' tales, became so enthusiastically bold as to run about the streets with their oral predictions, pre- tending that they were sent to preach to the city ; one, like Jonah at Nineveh, cried in the streets, * Yet forty days, and London shall be destroyed ;' 96 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. another ran about naked, except a pair of drawers about his waist, crying, day and night (like a man mentioned by Josephus, before the destruction of Jerusalem), ' Oh ! the great and terrible God ! ' and said no more, but repeated these words con- tinually, with a voice and countenance full of horror, a swift pace ; and nobody could observe him to stop, or rest, or take any sustenance, nor would he enter into speech with any one." The effects of terror upon the mind of the vulgar may easily be imagined : to avert the im- pending woe, they had recourse to charms, phil- ters, amulets, and exorcisms. Meanwhile the gravest and most discreet persons viewed the gra- dual deepening of this great national calamity with feelings of awe and amazement. The first notice of the plague which occurs in the Memoirs of Pepys is in these words, " April 30th. Great fears of the sicknesse here in the city, it being said, that two or three houses are already shut up. God preserve us all !" An order was made, about this time, that the houses of all infected persons should be marked with a red cross, having with it this inscription, LORD, HAVE MERCY UPON US ! This circumstance is mentioned by Pepys, thus : " June 7th. The hottest day that ever I felt in my life. This day, much against my will, I did, in Drury-lane, see two or three houses marked with a red cross upon the doors, and ' Lord have mercy upon us ' writ there ; which was a sad sight to me, being the first of the kind that, to my SYDEMIAM. 97 remembrance, I ever saw." Ten days after this entry into his diary, he relates the following oc- currence. " June 17th. It struck me very deep this after- noon, going with a hackney-coach from Lord Treasurer's, down Holborne, the coachman I found to drive easily and easily, at last stood still, and came down hardly able to stand, and told me that he was suddenly struck very sick and almost blind, he could not see ; so I light and went into another coach, with a sad heart for the poor man and for myself also, lest he should have been struck with the plague." Of the distemper itself, it may be sufficient to mention, that it was very horrible in its symptoms, but in some more so than in others ; the swellings, which were generally in the neck or groin, when they grew hard, and would not break, became painful, with the most exquisite torment ; some, not being able to bear it, precipitated themselves from a window, or otherwise made away with them-, selves ; others vented their pain by incessant roar- ings ; loud and lamentable cries were heard in the streets, sufficient to pierce the very heart. The precaution of shutting up houses was ge- nerally considered a very cruel and inhuman mea- sure, and the poor who were so confined made bitter lamentations ; the imprisonment, in fact, be- came so intolerable, that many attempted, both by violence and stratagem, to effect their escape : in these efforts several watchmen were killed, others wounded and left for dead, where the people, in infected houses, were opposed in their attempts to get away. Many houses having several ways out, 98 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. some into other streets, it was impossible for one man to guard all the passages, so as to prevent the escape of people rendered desperate by the fright of their circumstances, by resentment of their treat- ment, as well as by the raging of the distemper itself; so that they would talk to the watchman on one side of the house, while the family made their escape at another. In Coleman-street there were abundance of alleys ; a house was shut up in White's-alley, which had a window into another court, that had a passage into Bell-alley ; watchmen stood at the door of the house night and day ; while the family went away, in the evening, out at the^vindow, and left the poor fellows watching and warding for near a fortnight. Near the same place a watch- man was blown up with gunpowder, and burnt dreadfully : while he made hideous cries, and no one would venture to come near him to help him, those of the family that were able to stir, got out of the one-pair of stairs window, leaving two sick in the house, to whom nurses were sent. " A watchman had kept his post two nights at a shut-up house, and the day- watch, during one day : the day-watch Avas come again to his duty : all this while no noise was heard, no light was seen, nothing was called for, nor the watchman sent on any errands (which was their principal business) : one night the dead cart was stopped there, and a maid servant put into it, wrapt only in a green rug ; next day the watch heard a great crying and screaming, occasioned, as was supposed, by some of the family just dying ; the watchman knocked at the door, but none answered a great while ; SYDENHAM. 99 when one looked out and said (with an angry quick tone, yet with a voice that was crying), 'What d'ye want, that ye make such a noise?' He answered, ' I am the watchman, how do ye do ? What is the matter ?' The person answered, ' What is that to you ? stop the dead cart.' The cart was stopped, and they knocked again ; but no- body answered, and the cart-man would not tarry. When the day-watchman came, they knocked again a great while ; none answered : the case- ment being open at which the person had looked out, they procured a ladder, and found a dead woman on the floor, covered only with her shift. A magistrate ordered the house to be broken open, wherein were none found but the dead sister to the mistress of the family ; the master, his wife, se- veral children and servants, escaped at some back door, or over the tops of houses ; whether sick or sound, was not known." The Government exerted itself to the utmost to stem the pestilential torrent, appeals to heaven were ordered, and the king commanded the Col- lege of Physicians jointly to write something in English that might be a general directory in this calamitous exigency : some were chosen out of that body and appointed specially to attend the infected on all occasions ; and two persons out of the court of Aldermen were required to see this hazardous task properly executed. The plague, however, continued unabated; in July 18th, Pepys remarks " I was much troubled this day to hear at Westminster, how the officers do bury the dead in the open fields, Tuttlefields, pretending want of 100 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. room elsewhere ;" and about a fortnight afterwards this is the entry in his diary : " Aug. 3d. To Dagenharas. All the way, people, citizens, walking to and fro, inquire how the plague is in the city this week by the bill : which by chance at Greenwich, I had heard was 2020 of the plague, and 3000 and odd of all dis- eases. By-and-by met my Lord Crewe returning : Mr. Marr telling me by the way how a maid-serv- ant of Mr. John Wright (who lives thereabouts), falling sick of the plague, she was removed to an out-house, and a nurse appointed to look to her ; who being once absent, the maid got out of the house at the window and ran away. The nurse coming and knocking, and having no answer, believed she was dead, and went and told Mr. Wright so ; who and his lady were in great strait what to do to get her buried. At last resolved to go to Burntwood hard by, being in the parish, and there get people to do it. But they would not; so he went home full of trouble, and in the way met the wench walking over the common, which frighted him worse than before ; and was forced to send people to take her, which he did ; and they got one of the pest- coaches and put her into it, to carry her to a pest-house. And passing in a nar- row lane, Sir Anthony Browne, with his brother and some friends in the coach, met this coach with the curtains drawn close. The brother being a young man, and believing there might be some lady in it that would not be seen, and the way being narrow, he thrust his head out of his own into her coach, and to look, and there saw some- SYDEMIAM. 101 body look very ill, and in a sick dress and stunk mightily ; which the coachman also cried out upon. And presently they came up to some people that stood looking after it, and told our gallants that it was a maid of Mr. Wright's carried away sick of the plague, which put the young gentleman into fright, had almost cost him his life, but is now well again." In the months of August and September, the contagion changed its former slo'v and languid pace, and having as it were got master of all, made a most terrible slaughter, so that three, four, or five thousand died in a week, and once eight thousand. By the Lord Mayor's order, Sept. 6, fires were made through all the streets and open places of London and the liberties thereof; which were continued three whole nights and days, to purge and purify the air. The propriety of this practice was much doubted, and much debate among the faculty ensued thereon ; but before the controversy was ended, the fires were extinguished by some very smart hasty rain, as if the heavens mourned for so many funerals, as well as for the fatal mis- take that had been committed, in employing so pernicious a remedy. The day after this experi- ment, Evelyn writes in his Kalendarium : "Sept. 7. Neere 10,000 now died weekly; however I went all along the citty and suburbs from Kent-streete to St. James's, a dismal passage, and dangerous to see so many coffines exposed in the streetes ; y e streetes thin of people, the shops shut up, and all in mourneful silence, as not know- ing whose turn might be next." J02 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. Contemporary writers are full of similar descrip- tions, and one employs the following striking and impressive language. " Now the cloud is very black, and the storm comes down very sharp : Death rides triumphant on his pale horse through our streets, and breaks into almost every house, where the inhabitants are to be found : people fall as thick as leaves from the trees in Autumn, when shaken by a mighty Avind. There is a dismal soli- tude in London streets : every day looks with the face of a sabbath, observed with a greater so- lemnity than it used to be in the city. Shops are shut up ; people rare ; and few that walk about, insomuch that grass begins to grow in some places, and a deep silence in almost every place, especially within the city walls." Within the walls, The most frequented once and noisy parts Of town, now midnight silence reigns e'en there ! A midnight silence, at the noon of day ! And grass, untrodden, springs beneath the feet ! DRYDEV. These scenes of desolation and woe excited in the mind of Pepys the following train of thought and extraordinary moral reflection : " Sept. 3rd. Lord's day. Up ; and put on my coloured silk suit, very fine, and my new periwigg, bought a good while since, but durst not wear, because the plague was, in "Westminster when I bought it ; and it is a wonder what will be the fashion after the plague is done, as to periwiggs, for nobody will dare to buy any haire, for fear of the * God's terrible Voice to the City, by Plague and Fire. VINCENT. SYDENIIAM. 103 infection, that it had been cut off the heads of people dead of the plague. My Lord Brouncker, Sir J. Minnes, and I, up to the vestry at the desire of the justices of the peace, in order to the doing something for the keeping of the plague from growing ; but Lord ! to consider the madness of people of this town, who Avill (because they arc forbid) come in crowds along with the dead corpses to see them buried ; but we agreed on some orders for the prevention thereof." Even so early as June 24, their majesties re- moved from Whitehall to Hampton Court; on the following month, on the 29th July, the court re- moved again and went to reside some time at Salisbury; but that city being soon infected, the king chose his residence at Oxford. Every body, in short, who was enabled to escape, sought the country; and it is related, that though all the peo- ple did not go out of London, yet all the horses did ; there was hardly one to be bought or hired in the whole city, for some weeks : many persons travelled on foot, and, to prevent lying at inns, carried soldiers' tents with them and lay in the fields: the weather being warm, there was no dan- ger of taking cold " the poor fugitives carried beds or straw to lie upon, and provisions to eat, living as hermits in cells, for none would venture to come near them." They carried the infection with them into the country, and it spread, towards the end of this and the following year, over a great part of England. It gradually abated in the metropolis; but it was not till Nov. 20, 1666, that public thanksgivings were offered up to God for assuaging the late contagion and pestilence, 104 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. in London, Westminster, and within the bills of mortality.* Sydenham returned to London so very soon, and when the plague continued still so very vio- lent, " that it could not be (he says with great modesty) but by reason of scarcity of better physi- cians, I should be called in to the assistance of those who had the disease." Thus he saw both the beginning and the end of this great epidemic, and he did not neglect to profit by his opportu- nities of observation. His method of practice was to bleed very largely ; and he relates the case of a noble lady, of about twenty-one years of age, of a sanguine complexion, to whom he was called in the beginning of May, 1665 (before he left London), who was bled once or twice, but not suf- ficiently, and whom he thought he might have saved by a more liberal use of the lancet. In proof of the benefit of bleeding, he mentions an occurrence, related to him by the Hon. Francis Windham, governor of Dunster Castle, in Somer- setshire, during the civil wars. It happened that, * "Since the plague of 1665, this country has happily, in conse- quence of the establishment of the laws of quarantine, been pro- tected from these awful epidemics ; of these, the last was certainly the most terrible, but the History of England contains records of similar visitations, almost as calamitous. In the Diary of Evelyn, the following notice occurs, relating to a period of forty years only before the date of this, which has been called, emphatically, the great plague, and when he was but five years of age : " 1625. I was, this year, sent by my father to Lewes in Sussex, to be with my grandfather, Stansfield, with whom I passed my child- hood. This was the year in which the pestilence was so epidemical, that there dy'd in London five thousand a week ; and I well remem- ber the strict watches and examinations upon the ways as we passed." SYDENHAM. 105 at that calamitous period, the plague also raged in many parts of England, and it chanced to be brought from another place to Dunster, where some of the soldiers dying suddenly with an erup- tion of spots, it seized many others. Among the troops was a surgeon, who had been a great traveller, but who was at that time serving as a common soldier, and who humbly entreated the governor of the castle to permit him to do all he could for the relief of his fellow-soldiers, afflicted with this dreadful disease ; leave being obtained, he took away a Vast quantity of blood from every sick person, on the first attack of the disease, before there was any sign of swell- ing: he bled them till they were ready to drop down, for he bled them all standing and in the open air : nor had he any vessel in which to measure the blood : afterwards he ordered them to lie in their tents, and though he gave no medicine at all after the bleeding, yet, of the many whom he thus treated, not one died. On the propriety of copious and frequently repeated bleeding, Sydenham appeals to those physicians who conti- nued in town while the plague raged, and confi- dently asks if they had ever observed, when this practice had been employed before any tumour appeared, the death of any one patient to ensue. He, however, met with much obstruction in the employment of his method of cure, and says, with great simplicity, " I will give an instance of an injury I once did, but without guilt, not because I let blood, but because I was not allowed to take away as much as was necessary. Being sent for to a young man of a sanguine complexion, and 108 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. strong constitution, who had been seized with a violent fever two days before, with giddy pains of the head, violent vomitings, and such like symp- toms, and finding, upon inquiry, that he had no sign of a swelling, I immediately ordered that a large quantity of blood should be taken away, which had the appearance of blood drawn in a plurisy, and I prescribed also a ptisan, with cool- ing juleps and broths. In the afternoon he was bled again, and on the following morning lost the same quantity. Towards the evening of this day I visited my patient, and found him much better ; but his friends, notwithstanding this improvement, were violently opposed to further bleeding. But I earnestly contended that it should be repeated again, saying, that he needed only undergo the operation once more, and he would be safe; on the contrary, if they continued obstinate, it would have been better that no blood had been taken away at all, and that the cure had been attempted by perspiration ; in short, I predicted that the pa- tient would thus die. The event confirmed the prognosis, and while we were disputing the mat- ter, the purple spots broke out, and he died in a few hours." Sydenham concludes his chapter on the plague in the following remarkable words. " If the rea- der shall find that I have anywhere erred in theory, I beg his pardon ; but as to practice I de- clare I have faithfully related every thing, and that I never proposed any plan of cure before I had thoroughly tried it. Indeed, when I come to die, I trust I shall have a cheerful witness in my breast, that I have not only, with the greatest dili- SYDENHAM, 107 gence and honesty, attempted the recovery of the health of all who committed themselves to my care, of what condition, soever they have been (of whom none was otherwise treated by me than I desire to be, if I myself should happen to suffer the same diseases), but that also I have laboured to the ut- most of my power, if by any means it might be, that the cure of diseases may be managed after I am dead with greater certainty : for I esteem any progress in that kind of knowledge (how small so- ever it be), though it teach no more than the cure of the toothache, or of corns upon the feet, to be of more value than the vain pomp of nice speculations." From his treatise on the Gout, which has always been considered a masterpiece of description, we learn that he had suffered from the attacks of that painful disease during the greatest part of his life. In the dedication, which is to the learned Dr. Thomas Short, Fellow of the College of Phy- sicians, he mentions, that while composing the treatise itself, he was so tormented with the gout, that he was unable to hold a pen, and was obliged to employ an amanuensis. It was written in 1683, and begins thus : " Without doubt men will sup- pose that either the nature of the disease I now treat of is in a manner incomprehensible, or that I, who have been troubled with it thirty-four years, am a very dull fellow, seeing my observations about it and the cure of it little answer their expecta- tions." With the graphic pen of one who has suf- fered the terrible martyrdom of this disease in his own person, he describes " How the patient goes to bed and sleeps well till about two o'clock in the morning, when he awakes with a pain seizing his 108 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. great toe, heel, calf of his leg, or ankle; it is at first gentle, increases by degrees, and resembles that of dislocated bones : towards the following night it reaches its height, accommodates itself nicely to the various forms of the bones of the instep, whose ligaments it seizes, resembling the gnawing of a dog, and becomes, at length, so exqui- site, that the part affected cannot bear the weight of the clothes upon it, nor the patient suffer any one to walk hastily across the chamber. The severity of this first attack continues for twenty- four hours, when the sufferer enjoys a little ease, begins to perspire, falls asleep, and when he awakes finds the pain much abated, but the part swollen. The next day, and, perhaps, for the two or three fol- lowing days, towards evening, the torture returns, but remits towards the time of cock-crow. In a few days, the other foot is destined to endure the same excruciating agony." Sydenham goes on to enumerate the catalogue of complaints that afflict the gouty person, " till at last he is worn out by the joint attacks of age and of the disease, and the miserable wretch is so happy as to die." And here he makes the following moral observation : " But (which consideration ought to be a comfort to others as well as to myself, who, though we are but moderately endowed with mental acquire- ments and the gifts of fortune, yet are afflicted with this disease) thus have lived, and thus at length have died, great kings and potentates, generals of armies, admirals of fleets, philoso- phers, and many other equally distinguished per- sonages." With this cruel disease he contended from the early age of twenty-five; and he speaks of SYDENHAM. 109 a fit with which he was seized in 1660, when he was only thirty-six, which was very violent, and continued longer than any preceding attack. He lay, continually, for two months, during the sum- mer of that year, either in or upon a soft bed ; and then, for the first time, hegan to feel the symptoms of an equally painful and distressing malady, the gravel." In 1676, after the breaking up of a great frost, and having walked much, and for a long time, he suffered a very severe paroxysm, and the symptom which alarmed him recurred as often as he rode in a coach along the paved streets, though the horses went gently. This complication of disorders made it very ne- cessary for him to be attentive to his diet, which he regulated, as he informs us, after this manner : " In the morning, when I rise, I drink a dish or two of tea, and then ride in my coach till noon ;* when I return home, I moderately refresh myself with any sort of meat, of easy digestion, that I like (for moderation is necessary above all things) ; I drink somewhat more than a quarter of a pint of Canary wine, immediately after dinner, every day, to promote the digestion of the food in my sto- mach, and to drive the "gout from my bowels. When I have dined, I betake myself to my coach again ; and, when business will permit, I ride into the country, two or three miles, for good air. A draught of small beer is to me instead of a supper, and I take another draught when I am in bed, and about to compose myself to sleep." * At the present time, no physician thinks of leaving his home before the hour that Sydenham was returning from his round of morning visits to his patients. 110 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. The treatise from which this extract is made was the last puhlished in his lifetime, and he con- cludes it, by observing, that he has now given to the world the sum of all which he had hitherto known concerning the cure of diseases, up to the day on which he wrote it, viz., to the 29th of September, 1686. His work, entitled Processus Integri, the compendious result of all his practical experience, was published after his death, and has been generally considered to have settled the ques- tion, as to whether he wrote his treatises in Eng- lish, and procured them afterwards to be translated into Latin. This posthumous work exhibits so much classical learning, that Dr. Johnson (no mean judge in these matters) pronounces Syden- ham to have been well versed in the writings of antiquity, more particularly in those of the great Roman orator and philosopher, whose luxuriance of style he appears to have endeavoured to imitate. The gout and the stone were distempers which even the art of Sydenham could only palliate, without hope of a cure ; but if he has not been able, by his precepts, to instruct us how to remove them, he has at least left us his example how to bear them ; he never betrayed any indecent impa- tience or unmanly dejection under his torments on the contrary, supported himself by the reflec- tions of philosophy and the consolations of reli- gion; and in every interval of ease applied himself to the assistance of others with his usual assiduity. After a life thus usefully employed, he died at his house, in Pall Mall, on the 29th of December, 1689, and was buried in the aisle, near the south door, of the church of St. James, in "Westminster. SYDEXIIAM. Ill But the epitaph that indicated the spot being nearly obliterated, the College of Physicians re- solved, in 1809, to erect a mural monument as near as possible to the place of interment, Avithin that church, to the memory of this illustrious man, with the following inscription : Prope hunc Locum sepultus est Thomas Syderiham, Medicus in omne /Evum nobilis. Natus erat A.D. 1G24, Vixit Annos 65. Deletis veteris Sepulchri Vestigiis Ne Rei Memoria interiret Hoc Marmor poni jussit Collegium Regale Medicorum Londinense, A.D. 1810. Optima Merito ! RADCLIFFE. FOLLOWING the direction of the son of Sirach, " to honour a physician with the honour which is due to him," we shall speak of Radcliffe as he de- serves; not extolling him for scholastic attain- ments which he did not possess, but giving him every credit for the strong good sense and natural sagacity with which he was really endowed, and without concealing the coarseness of his wit, or the imprudent levity of conduct, in which it was his humour occasionally to indulge. His muni- ficent acts of bounty, his almost unexampled liberality, point him out as one of the most cele- brated of a profession that has always been dis- tinguished for its liberality ; and fully explain to us the esteem in which he was held by his con- temporaries, to whom, in spite of his infirmities of temper, the generosity of his disposition, and the sprightliness of his conversation, rendered him at all times a most agreeable companion. The father of Dr. John Radcliffe possessed a moderate estate in Yorkshire; and though himself more addicted to the improvement of his paternal acres than to the cultivation of letters, he deter- mined to listen to the advice of his neighbours and friends, and instead of bringing up his son (born in the year 1650) to trade or agriculture, sent him to the grammar-school of Wakefield. RADCLIFFE. ] 13 Here he made such progress, that his father, not- withstanding the incumbrance of a numerous fa- mily, all to be provided for, resolved to give him an Oxford education, and entered him, at the early age of fifteen, a member of University Col- lege. He took his degree of A. B. in due time ; he was made senior scholar of his college, yet, as no fellowship became vacant there, he removed to Lincoln College, of which he had been previously invited to become a Fellow. Here he was enabled, by a more liberal allow- ance granted him by his mother (for his father was now dead), to pursue the study of physic, which he had chosen, and attend the different courses of anatomy, chemistry, and botany, deli- vered in the University. He took his degree of Master of Arts in 1672, as it is said, with uncom- mon applause. As to his academical career, we are told that he held logic iii small esteem, but devoted himself eagerly to the cultivation of more general literature. It was his boast that he did not prepare himself for the practice of the art of healing, by what he considered a useless appli- cation to the rubbisfc of antiquity contained in musty volumes, but by a careful examination of the most valuable treatises that made their appear- ance in his own times. His books, while he was a student of medicine, though well chosen, were so few in number, that, being visited by Dr. Bat- hurst, the Master of Trinity College (the com- panion of Harvey in his experiments upon the incubation of eggs), and asked by him where was his library, Radcliffe replied, by pointing to a few 114 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. vials, a skeleton, and a herbal, in one corner of his room. He became Bachelor of Medicine in 1675, and immediately began the exercise of his profession in the city of Oxford itself. At his first entrance upon the stage of action, he fell foul of the apothe- caries, and experienced no small opposition from Foulks and Adams, two of the most eminent of that calling, who decried his method of practice, more especially because it was contrary to the one adopted by Dr. Lydal, at that time the most cele- brated practitioner in the University. The method of Lydal w&s slow; that of Radcliffe expeditious, prompt, and decisive; and the superiority of talent and good sense in the latter became soon so con- spicuous, that his opponents, the apothecaries themselves, were obliged to make interest with him, " to have his prescriptions on their files." His success, as may readily be believed, was not viewed without feelings of envy, and his rivals maintained that his cures were only guess-work, and affected sarcastically to regret that his friends, instead of breeding him up to physic, had not made a scholar of him. On the other hand, Rad- cliffe was not wanting in his own defence, nor sparing of abuse towards his antagonists, whom he bespattered with all sorts of opprobrious names, and derided, because of the slops, caudles, and diet drinks with which they drenched their pa- tients. It was neither, however, by his abuse of others, nor by any empirical boldness, that at this early period of his medical career, he seems to have completely gained the confidence of the public, RADCLIFFE. 115 but by his judicious method of treating the small- pox : a method, indeed, which Sydenham had in- troduced into the art of medicine about ten years before Radcliffe established himself at Oxford. It consisted in the employment of the cooling treat- ment a, practice which seems to have been partly suggested by reasoning upon the nature of the disease, and which has been amply sanctioned by experience. In his original treatise upon the small- pox, Sydenham dwells much upon the salutary in- fluence of cold, in those worst and most aggravated forms of that disease, which are sometimes brought on by the pernicious use of the heating and sti- mulating treatment then in vogue. Luckily, he observes, it occurs occasionally, that from the pre- posterous application of external heat and inward cordials, the patient becomes delirious, and in a fit of frenzy, escaping from the cruel attention of his nurse, leaps out of bed, lies exposed for many hours to the cool night air, and thus haply re- covers. In proof whereof he relates an anecdote of a person whom he knew, who in his youth had gone to Bristol, and while there was seized with the small-pox, and became delirious. His nurse having occasion to go into the town, left her patient to the care of others, during her absence. Being detained somewhat longer than she ex- pected, the sick person (as it seemed to those about him) gave up the ghost. As the weather was very hot, and the body was stout and corpu- lent, in order to prevent the bad odour of the corpse, they lifted it immediately from the bed, and placed it, with the exception of its being covered by a sheet, in a state of perfect nudity i 2 116 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. upon a table. The nurse, in the mean time, re- turns, and, hearing the sad tidings, proceeds sor- rowfully to the chamber of death ; but on removing the sheet, and looking at the countenance, thinks she can perceive some faint signs of life remaining, and having replaced the extended body in bed, recalls, by some means or other, the apparently dead man to life, and in a few days sees him re- stored to perfect health. Few, however, of his contemporaries approved of the practice of Sydenham, though he himself was so convinced of its propriety, that he con- cludes his original treatise upon this disease, by declaring, that if his young son "William, whose welfare and life were dearer to him than the wealth of the Indies, were to be seized with the small-pox, he should direct him to be treated in the same manner. The new method, as it was called, had indeed the sanction of the illustrious Locke, himself a physician ; but the generality of the practitioners of that day continued to trudge on in the ancient course of their forefathers. Eadcliffe was free from the bigotry and prejudices of his brethren ; and one of the first-fruits which he reaped from his early determination to leave the trammels of authority, and willingly admit the light of recent discovery, was the most remarkable success of his practice in this very disease, in which he strictly followed the precepts laid down by Syden- ham. The small-pox was raging in the city and in the neighbourhood of Oxford, with great fa- tality ; and instead of stoving up his patients as was done by other practitioners, Radcliffe em- RADCLIFFE. 117 ployed the new method, exposed the sick to the free access of the air, gave them cooling emulsions, and employed other approved antiphlogistic reme- dies, and thus rescued more than one hundred from the jaws of death. About this time also he had another piece of good-fortune, in the case of Lady Spencer, at Yarnton, some few miles from Oxford. This lady had been under Dr. Lydal and Mr. Musgrave's hands, for some time, without deriving much be- nefit from their prescriptions, and with small hopes of recovering from a complication of disorders. In this dilemma, she was induced, at the entreaty of her son-in-law, Mr. Dormer, to send for Rad- cliffe, whose reputation was now beginning to spread. His advice was very successful ; in a short space of time the patient was restored to health, and lived many years afterwards. The fame of this unexpected recovery, and the ex- tensive connexions of the lady's family, brought him into fashion, and he was patronized by the noble houses of Northampton, Sunderland, Caer- narvon, and Abingdon. Indeed, before he had been two years a bachelor of physic, there were few families of any credit, within reach of Oxford, who had not had occasion to appreciate his pro- fessional skill. Having received some affront, he quitted Lin- coln College, and resigned his Fellowship, but continued to reside in the University, and in the year 1682 took the degree of Doctor of Medicine, going out Grand Compounder a circumstance which is supposed to indicate the possession, thus early, of at least 40/. per annum in land. His 118 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. business augmented ; and he maintained, by his frank and manly conduct, and by his endeavours to discountenance the attempts of quacks and intermeddlers as much as possible, the respecta- bility and fair dealing of his profession. The art of uroscopie, as it was called, was at this time much in vogue, and the credulous became the dupes of various impostors, who pretended to cure people, at a distance, of all manner of human maladies, by the exercise of this absurd mode of divination. Provided with this infallible indication of disease, it is related that a foolish woman came to Radcliffe, and, dropping a curtsey, told him that, having heard of his great fame, she made bold to bring him a fee, by which she hoped his worship would be prevailed upon to tell her the distemper her husband lay sick of, and to prescribe proper remedies for his relief. " Where is he ?" cries the doctor. " Sick in bed, four miles off." Taking the vessel, and casting an eye upon its contents, he inquired of the woman what trade the patient was of; and, learning that he was a boot-maker, " Very well," replied the doctor ; and having retired for a moment to make the requisite substitution, " take this home with you ; and if your husband will undertake to fit me with a pair of boots by its inspection, I will make no question of prescribing for his distemper by a similar exa- mination." His practice in the country procured him con- siderable wealth, but, not content with his provin- cial reputation, he removed to London, when he was abou^ thirty-four years old, and settled in Bow-street, Covent Garden. Here he had not BADCLIFFE. 119 been established more than a twelvemonth, before he rose to the head of his profession, and received, in daily fees, the sum of twenty guineas. To this rapid success, the pleasantry of his discourse and his ready wit are said to have greatly contributed many even feigning themselves ill for the pleasure of having a few minutes' conversation with the facetious doctor. In 1686, he was appointed phy- sician to the Princess Anne of Denmark ; and soon after, about the time the Bishops were sent to the Tower, was sorely beset, as well by the Master of the College at Oxford, where he had received his education, as by the court chaplains, Father Saun- ders and another Dominican, to change his reli- gion, and turn Papist. To the solicitations of the first, sent to him by the king, he turned a deaf ear; and to Mr. Obadiah Walker, of University Col- lege, Oxford, he wrote the following letter, in reply to an epistle of his, in which he had told Radcliffe, " that he should be incessant in his prayers to the great God above, and to the blessed Virgin, that he might be enlightened, and see the things that belonged to the peace of his immortal soul." "Bow-street, Covent-garden, May 25, 1688. " Sir, I should be in as unhappy a condition in this life, as you fear I shall be in the next, were I to be treated as a turn-coat ; and must tell you, that I can be serious no longer, while you endea- vour to make me believe what, I am apt to think, you give no credit to yourself. Fathers, and coun- cils, and antique authorities, may have their influ- ence in their proper places : but should any of them all, though covered with dust 1400 years ago, 120 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. tell me, that the bottle I am now drinking with some of your acquaintance is a wheel-barrow, and the glass in my hand a salamander, I should ask leave to dissent from them all. ** You mistake my temper, in being of an opin- ion that I am otherwise byass'd than the gene- rality of mankind are. I had one of your new convert's poems in my hands just now ; you will know them to be Mr. Dryden's, and on what ac- count they were first written, at first sight. Four of the best lines, and most apropos, run thus : " By education most have been misled, So they believe, because they vrere so bred : The priest continues what the nurse began, And thus the child imposes on the man. " You may be given to understand from hence, that, having been bred up a Protestant at Wake- field, and sent from thence in that persuasion to Oxford, where, during my continuance, I had no relish for absurdities, I intend not to change principles, and turn Papist, in London. " The advantages you propose to me, may be very great, for all that I know : God Almighty can do very much, and so can the king, but you'll pardon me if I cease to speak like a physician for once, and with an air of gravity am very ap- prehensive that I may anger the one, in being too complaisant to the other. You cannot call this pinning my faith to any man's sleeve : those that know me are too well apprized of a quite con- trary tendency. As I never flattered a man my- self, so 'tis my firm resolution never to be wheedled out of my real sentiments ; which are, that since it has been my good fortune to be educated ac- UADCLIFFE. 121 cording to the usage of the Church of England, established by law, I shall never make myself so unhappy as to shame my teachers and instruc- tors, by departing from what I have imbibed from them. " Yet though I shall never be brought over to confide in your doctrines, no one breathing can have a greater esteem for your conversation, by letter, or word of mouth, than, Sir, " Your most affectionate " And faithful servant, " JOHN RADCLIFFE." And Radcliffe was as constant in his friendship as he proved himself to be in his religious princi- ples ; for when, in the succeeding revolution, Mr. Walker fell into poverty and distress, he allowed him, to the day of his death, a very handsome competency, and contributed largely to his funeral expenses, so that he might be conducted honour- ably to his grave in Pancras church-yard, where he was privately interred. From this creditable anecdote, it will be seen, that Radcliffe was firm and staunch in his Protestant faith, though, from the following, related by his earliest biographer, one may infer that, in everything connected with politics, his conduct was regulated by merely pru- dential motives. When, in the latter end of the year 1688, the mismanagements of the court became so nume- rous, and the apprehensions of their further increase so very strong, that they could no longer be tole- rated, the Prince of Orange was invited over, with an armed force, to redress the grievances of the 122 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. subject. His highness accordingly came, and was joined by the chief of the nobility, even by Prince George of Denmark, who thought himself obliged to prefer his duty to God before that which he owed his king and father. The princess, his royal consort, at that time pregnant, and under Dr. Radcliffe's immediate care, likewise got away by night Avith the Bishop of London, and retired to Nottingham. It was their intention to stay there till the storm should be blown over ; and the prelate above mentioned pressed the doctor to accompany the princess, in his capacity of her royal highness's physician ; but Radcliffe excused himself, alleging the multiplicity of his practice, and the dangerous state of health in which many of his patients happened to be, requiring his constant and unremitting attendance, and thus avoided taking any decisive step. He cautiously took care that no imputation of guilt could, by any possi- bility, attach to him afterwards, had the revolution not succeeded, whereby the throne was declared vacant, and occupied by King William and Queen Mary. With King William came the famous Dr. Bidloo, as chief physician; but the presence of this for- midable rival did not injure the fame of Rad- cliffe, which, on the contrary, increased daily : it was said, indeed, that Bidloo, who was otherwise expert in the knowledge of physic, and knew how to prescribe proper medicaments when he hit upon the distemper, from frequently mistaking the nature of English constitutions, subjected those who advised with him to the greatest hazards. Be this as it may, Radcliffe so far got the start of all his RADCLIFFE. 123 competitors, tliat even his majesty's foreign at- tendants, Mr. Bentinck (afterwards Earl of Port- land), and Mr. Zulestein (Earl of Rochford), applied to him in cases of necessity, Avherein he always displayed his skill to the greatest degree ; the first heing cured by him of a violent diarrhoea, which had brought him almost to the point of death ; and the last, who was very corpulent, of a lethargy, that had baffled the skill of all other practitioners. The gratitude of King William, for the recovery of his two favourites, was manifested to Radcliife by a present of 500 guineas out of the privy purse, and an offer of making him one of his majesty's physicians, with a salary of 2001. per annum more than any other. The caution and worldly wisdom of Radcliffe were here again ex- hibited ; for though he accepted the present, he begged to decline the appointment, considering that the settlement of the crown was then only in its infancy, and that accidents might occur to disturb its security. Nor did he lose by his refusal, for the weak condition of the king's health, which had from his majesty's childhood suffered from frequent at- tacks of asthma, required his constant professional assistance ; so that it was said, that one year with another, for the first eleven years of the reign of King William, Radcliffe received more than 600 guineas for his annual attendance upon his ma- jesty, exclusive of what he received from the great officers of the court. These may serve as speci- mens of his prudence ; and the following story, which may be best related in the words of his first biographer,* affords a good example of his hu- W. Pittis. 124 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. mour, and of the footing upon which he lived with his neighbours and friends, and of the free and familiar terms in which they mutually indulged : " It will not be much out of the way to insert a diverting passage, between Sir Godfrey Kneller, the king's chief face-painter, and the doctor, since it happened near this time ; and, though not alto- gether so advantageous to the doctor's memory as the generality of his sarcastic replies, yet will be of use to bring in a very happy turn of wit from him that speaks in rejoinder to it. The doctor's dwelling-house, as has been said before, was in Bow-street, Covent Garden, whereunto belonged a very convenient garden, that was contiguous to another on the back of it, appertaining to Sir God- frey, which was extremely curious and inviting, from the . many exotic plants, and the variety of flowers and greens, which it abounded with. NOAV as one wall divided both inclosures, and the doctor had some reason, from his intimacy with the knight, to think he would not give a denial to any reasonable request, so he took the freedom, when he was one day in company with the latter, after extolling his fine parterres and choice collection of herbs, flowers, &c., to desire the liberty of having a door made, for a free intercourse with both gar- dens, but in such a manner as should not be incon- venient to either family. " Sir Godfrey, who was, and is a gentleman of extraordinary courtesy and humanity, very readily gave his consent; but the doctor's servants, in- stead of being strict observers of the terms of agreement, made such a havoc amongst his hor- tulanary curiosities, that Sir Godfrey was out of RADCLIFFE. 125 all patience, and found himself obliged, in a very becoming manner, to advertise their master of it, with his desires to him to admonish them for the forbearance of such insolences ; yet, notwithstand- ing this complaint, the grievance continued unre- dressed, so that the person aggrieved found him- self under a necessity of letting him, that ought to make things easy, know, by one of his servants, that he should be obliged to brick up the door, in case of his complaints proving ineffectual. To this the doctor, who is very often in a cholerick temper, and from the success of his practice ima- gined every one under an obligation of bearing with him, returned answer, that Sir Godfrey might even do what he thought fit, in relation to the door, so that he did but refrain from painting it; alluding to his employment, than whom, none was a more exquisite master of. Hereupon, the footman, after some hesitation in the delivery of his message, and several commands from his master to give it him word for word, told him as above. ; Did my very good friend, Doctor Rad- cliffe, say so ? ' cryed Sir Godfrey. ' Go you back to him, and, after presenting my service to him, tell him, that I can take anything from him but physic'. A reply more biting than true, though allowable, from what he had received from the aggressor : so, if the one was at the height of ex- cellence in his unequalled skill in physic, the other had attained to as consummate an experience in the art and mystery of limning." At the close of the year 1689, when he had gained additional credit and fame by a cure he 126 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. had performed upon the Duke of Beaufort, he was called in to a consultation with the king's physi- cians, Doctors Bidloo and Laurence, and was so successful as to suggest means which speedily re- stored his majesty to a share of health sufficient to enable him to join his army in Ireland, and gain the victory at the Boyne. In 1691, the young Prince William, Duke of Gloucester, son of the Prince and Princess of Denmark, was taken ill of fainting fits, a complaint which had been fatal to several of the children of their royal highnesses, and his life was despaired of by the court physi- cians. Radcliffe being sent for, first begged that the queen and the princess, who should both be present, would rely solely upon him, and allow the use of no other prescriptions hut his ; and then, by the employment of a few outward and inward applications, restored the little patient to such a state of health, that he never had anything like a delirium from that time till the day of his death. Queen Mary, who constantly visited the child, was so pleased with Radcliffe, that she or- dered her chamberlain to present him Avith 1000 guineas. His fame was now so great, that every body nocked to him for advice ; and it is recorded, that his neighbour, Dr. Gibbons, received WOOL per annum from the overflow of patients who were not able to get admission to the great physician of the day. Hitherto, everything had prospered with him ; but in the year 1692 bis fortune was chequered with a considerable loss. The doctor, amongst other acquaintance, had contracted a great fami- RADCL1FFE. 127 liarity with Betterton, the famous tragedian, and at his persuasion was induced to risk no less a sum than 5000/. in a venture to the East Indies : the ship sailed, and had a favourable passage ; when on her return, she was taken by the Mar- quis de Nesmond, and all her cargo, amounting in value to 1 20,000/. captured by the enemy. This loss ruined the poor player, but Radcliffe received the disastrous intelligence at the Bull's Head Ta- vern, in Clare Market (where he was enjoying himself with several persons of the first rank), with philosophic composure ; desiring his companions not to interrupt the circulation of the glass, " for that he had no more to do but to go up so many pair of stairs to make himself whole again." Nor did this pecuniary loss check the exercise of his liberal spirit, for it was in the course of this year that he contributed a considerable sum towards the repairs and embellishments of University College. In the following year, after long solicitation of bis friends, he, for the first time, thought of matrimony, and began to pay his court to the daughter of a wealthy citizen. The parents of the young lady gave their consent, and it was settled that he should receive on the day of marriage 15,000/., and the residue of their property at their death ; his own fortune being then estimated to amount to 30,000/. The match, however, was broken otf, upon Radcliffe discovering that the book-keeper of his intended bride's father had anticipated him in securing her affections, and possessed the most unequivocal claim to the title of her husband. 128 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. Upon this occasion, he wrote the following letter to the father. "Bow-street, Covent-garden, May 19, 1693. " SIR The honour of being ally'd to so good and wealthy a person as Mr. S -d has push'd me upon a discovery that may be fatal to your quiet, and your daughter's reputation, if not timely pre- vented. Mrs. Mary is a very deserving gentle- woman, but you must pardon me, if I think her by no means fit to be my wife, since she is another man's already, or ought to be. In a word, she is no better and no worse than actually quick with child, which makes it necessary that she be dis- posed of to him that has the best claim to her affections. No doubt but you have power enough over her to bring her to confession, which is by no means the part of a physician. As for my part, I shall wish you much joy of a new son-in- law, when known, since I am by no means qua- lified to be so near of kin. Hanging and marry- ing, I find, go by destiny ; and I might have been guilty of the first, had I not so narrowly escaped the last. My best services to your daughter, whom I can be of little use to as a physician, and of much less in the quality of a suitor. The daugh- ter of so wealthy a gentleman as Mr. S d can never want a husband, therefore the sooner you bestow her, the better, that the young Hans en Kelder may be born in wedlock, and have the right of inheritance to so large a patrimony. You will excuse me for being so very free with you, for tho' I cannot have the honour to be your son- RADCLIFFE. 129 in-law, I shall ever take pride in being among the number of your friends, who am, " Sir, " Your most obedient servant, " JOHN RADCLIFFE." After this disappointment, it is related that, not- withstanding the urgent entreaties of his friend?, he gave up all thoughts of marriage : though an idle story is told of a lady of quality having fallen in love with him, and feigned herself sick, that she might the more frequently enjoy the opportunities of his society and conversation ; that Radcliffe very ungallantly laid the whole affair before the lady's father ; and that, in consequence, she was almost immediately married to a nobleman who had been before in vain soliciting the honour of her hand. In the month of December, 1694, Queen Mary was seized with the small-pox, and her sickness assumed the most alarming symptoms. Her Ma- jesty's physicians were at their wits' end, and it was decided by the Privy Council to send for Kadclitfe, to avert, if possible, the calamity with which the nation was threatened. At first sight of the prescriptions, without having even entered the chamber of the royal patient, he exclaimed, with his characteristic rudeness, that " her Majesty was a dead woman, for it was impossible to do any good in her case, where remedies had been given that were so contrary to the nature of the distem- per : yet he would endeavour to do all that lay in him to give her some ease." For a short time there were some faint hopes of K 130 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. recovery, but his efforts were ultimately in vain, and the queen died. Some few months after this unhappy event, the doctor, who till then had kept himself in the good graces of the Princess Anne of Denmark, forfeited them, owing to his too great addiction to the bottle, and after the fol- lowing uncourtly manner. Her royal highness, being indisposed, caused him to be sent for; in an- swer to which, he promised to come to St. James's soon after ; as he did not, however, make his appearance, a messenger was again despatched after him, to inform him that the princess was extremely ill, and to describe the nature of her indisposition. When Radcliffe heard the symp- toms detailed, he swore by his Maker, " That her highness's distemper was nothing but the va- pours, and that she was in as good a state of health as any woman breathing, could she but believe it." No skill or reputation could excuse this rudeness and levity ; he was, in consequence, dismissed from his attendance on the princess, and Dr. Gibbons succeeded him in the care of her health. His credit with the king remained, notwithstanding, undiminished, of which a splendid proof was given in the following year, by his being sent for to go abroad to attend the Earl of Albemarle, a great favourite of his majesty, and who had a considerable command in the army during the compaign which ended with the taking of Namur. Radcliffe re- mained in the camp a week only, was successful in his treatment of his patient, and received from King William 12001. ; from Lord Albemarle 400 guineas and a diamond ring ; he was offered also the dig- nity of a baronet, which he begged to decline, on RADCUFFK. 131 the plea of having no children to inherit the title. In 1697, after the king's return from Loo, having ratified the treaty of peace at Ryswick, his majesty found himself much indisposed at his palace at Kensington, and the advice of Radcliffe was had recourse to. The symptoms of the disease were dropsical, and though not treated very properly by the other physicians, nor considered by them as threatening any immediate danger, were looked upon by him as of a formidable nature. The interview which Radcliffe had with his majesty is described by Pittis in the following words : " The king, when the Doctor was admitted, was reading Sir Roger L'Estrange's new version of .ZEsop's Fables, and told him, that he had once more sent for him, to try the effects of his great skill, notwithstanding he had been told by his body-physicians, who were not sensible of his inward decay, that he might yet live many years, and would very speedily recover. Upon which the Doctor, having put some interrogatories to the king, very readily asked leave of his majesty to turn to a fable in the book before him, which would let the king know how he had been treated, and read it to him in these words : " ' Pray, Sir, how do you find yourself ? says the doctor to his patient. Why truly, says the patient, I have had a most violent sweat. Oh ! the best sign in the world, quoth the doctor. And then a little while after, he is at it again, with a pray how do you find your body ? Alas ! says the other, I have just now such a terrible fit of horror and shaking upon me ! Why this is all as it should be, says the physician, it shows a mighty strength of K2 132 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. nature. And then he comes over him the third time, with the same question again : Why I am all swelled, says t'other, as if I had a dropsy. Best of all, quoth the doctor, and goes his way. Soon after this, comes one of the sick man's friends to him, with the same question, How he felt him- self? Why, truly so well, says he, that I am e'en ready to die of I know not how many good signs and tokens.' " ' May it please your majesty, yours and the sick man's case is the very same,' cries Radcliffe * you are huoyed up with hopes that your malady will soon be driven away, by persons that are not ap- prized of means to do it, and know not the true cause of your ailment : but I must be plain with you, and tell you that, in all probability, if your majesty will adhere to my prescriptions, it may be in my power to lengthen out your life for three or four years, but beyond that time nothing in physick can protract it, for the juices of your stomach are all vitiated ; your whole mass of blood is cor- rupted, and your nutriment, for the most part, turns to water. However, if your majesty will forbear making long visits to the Earl of Brad- ford (where the king was wont to drink very hard) I'll try what can be done to make you live easily, tho' I cannot venture to say I can make you live longer than I have told you.' He then left a recipe behind him, which was so happy in its effects, as to enable the king, not only to make a progress in the western parts of his king- dom, but to go abroad, and divert himself at his palace at Loo, in Holland." In 1699, the Duke of Gloucester, heir-presump- RADCLIFFE. 133 tive to the crown, was taken ill; and notwithstand- ing the antipathy felt by his mother, the Princess of Denmark, to the personal attendance of Rad- cliffe, he was sent for : he pronounced the case hopeless, and vented his abuse upon the two other physicians in no measured terms. He told them, " That it would have been happy for this nation, had the first been bred up a basket-maker, (which was his father's profession,) and the last continued making an havock of nouns and pronouns, in the quality of a country schoolmaster, rather than have ventured out of his reach, in the practice of an art which he was an utter stranger to, and for which he ought to have been whipped with one of his oAvn rods." . At the close of this year, the king, on his re- turn from Holland, where he had not very strictly followed the prudent advice given by Radcliffe, being much out of order, sent for him again to the palace at Kensington. In reply to some questions put by the -physician, the king, showing his swollen ankles, which formed a striking contrast with the rest of his emaciated body, exclaimed, " Doctor, what think you of these ?" " Why truly," said he, "I would not have your majesty's two legs for your three kingdoms." With this ill-timed jest, though it passed unno- ticed at the moment, the professional attendance of Radcliffe at court terminated, nor would the king ever suffer him to come again into his pre- sence, notwithstanding the Earl of Albemarle, who was then the chief favourite, used all his in- terest to reinstate him in favour. After the death of King William, which soon afterwards took 134 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. place, an attempt was made to overcome the repug- nance which was felt towards Radcliffe \>y Queen Anne; but her majesty would by no means consent to his coming at that time to 'court, alleging, in re- ply to the recommendations of his friends, that he would send her word again that her ailment was no- thing else but the vapours. His advice was never- theless frequently resorted to, on the various occa- sions of her Majesty's illness, and for his opinions and prescriptions he was most liberally rewarded. In ] 704, at a general collection for propagating the Gospel in foreign parts, Radcliffe, under a bor- rowed name, and unknown to any member of the society, settled 501. per annum for ever upon them ; and, in the same year, he made a present to the late deprived Bishop of Norwich, of 520/., to be distributed amongst the poor nonjuring clergy. The secret of the first act of liberality transpired from the avowal of the trustee who made the annual payment, and who thought the knowledge of it might incite others to similar deeds of charity. The letter which he wrote to the bishop was found amongst the prelate's papers, and ran as follows : " Bloomsbury Square, July 24, 1704. " My Lord, When I was the last time with you at Hammersmith, you did me the honour to tell me, that I had it in my power to be an assist- ant to the poor suffering clergy, and that Mr. Shepherd had contributed large sums to that end. No one can be more sensibly touched with their misfortunes than I am; and tho' I have not abilities equal to the gentleman's before named, I RADCLIFFE. 135 intend not to fall short of him in my will to do them all possible kind offices. The bills that bear this company will testify my esteem for them; but as gifts of this nature, if made public, carry a shew of ostentation with them, I must be earnest with you, my good Lord, to keep the name of the donor secret. I have nothing more to intreat from you, than the favour of your making choice of the most deserving persons, and believing that I am, with all possible sincerity, my Lord, " Your Lordship's most obedient " And most faithful servant, "JoHN RADCLIFFE. " Be pleased to limit the number to fifty per- sons, that they may have 10/. per head." In 1705, he bought an estate in the county of Buckingham, for 12,000^. Many acts of liberality and charity are recorded of him about this time ; amongst them, a donation of money to Oxford, in the year 1706, towards some public buildings then going on ; but his means were now very ample, his fortune amounting, in 1707, to 80,000/. In conversation with Dr. Sprat, Bishop of Rochester, concerning acts of charity, the prelate dwelt upon the satisfaction which well-disposed men feel, in seeing the result of their good deeds in their lifetime, whereas Radcliffe was a strenu ous advocate for posthumous benefactions : never- theless, in a day or two, he addressed the follow- ing letter to his Lordship : " Bloomslury Square, May 26, 1707- " My good Lord, The inclosed bills will suffi- ]36 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. ciently testify the deference I pay to your Lord- ship's judgment, and my willingness to contribute towards the relief of persons in distress for con- science-sake. The insupportable tyranny of the Presbyterian clergy in Scotland, over those of the Episcopal persuasion there,* does, I hold with your Lordship, make it necessary that some care should be taken of them by us, that are of the same household of faith with them, and by the late act of Union (which I bless God I had no hand in) of the same nation. But, my Lord, I need not tell you, many collections of this nature have been misapply 'd, and given to persons in no manner of want, instead of those men in low circumstances, that are real objects of compassion. I cannot be induced to love a Scripture Janus, such as (if I am not very much deceived) is the archbishop of Glasgow, who, I must confess, talks very well; and in our old acquaintance John Dryden's words, " Has brought the virtues of his soil along, A smooth behaviour and a fluent tongue ;" but acts very much like the Primate these verses were made upon, for I never yet heard that, amidst all his fine harangues to incite the people to exert themselves in the support of the necessitous, this most reverend father in God, notwithstanding he is in circumstances so to do, has ever advanced one shilling to his afflicted brethren, but has always had a share, and that very large, of all sums that have been gathered for their use. My Lord of Edinburgh, Dr. Scott, Mr. Skeen, and others that have been with me, are just objects of every honest man's charity. They have suffered very RARCL1FFE. 137 much, without any token of despondency, or pu- sillanimity, in the extremest difficulties. To such as these, I beg of your Lordship, that the money I have drawn for, in the name of Francis Andrews, may be distributed, and in such portions as are suitable to their respective characters, and the de- mands of their families. " Not that I would prescribe to a judgment so unerring as your Lordship's, in the exercise of an office which you have been always famed for the discharge of, with the greatest exactness ; but would remind your Lordship, that there are men in the world, who, by an appearance of sanctity, very often impose upon such as are really pos- sessed of it. The very nature of these charities, considering how obnoxious the gentlemen, whom they are bestowed on, are to the present admini- stration, requires secrecy as to the names of the donors, yet, if it be thought necessary, for the better satisfaction of those whom they are given to, to set them down in a list, with the detail of their respective contributors, it will be an act of friendship in the good Bishop of Rochester, upon many considerations, relating to my employ, and otherwise, to make use of that which I have drawn the bills in, rather than the name of, " My good Lord, " Your Lordship's most obedient " And most devoted servant, " JOHN RADCLIPFE. "N.B. The bills before mentioned are for 300/., and drawn upon Mr. Waldgrave, goldsmith, in Russel Street, Covent Garden." 138 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. Such solid proofs of genuine and unostentatious benevolence will be allowed to have compensated for many a rude speech : overbearing and hasty in his temper, he possessed at the same time many redeeming qualities ; and it should be recollected, in considering his rough conduct towards his pro- fessional brethren, that he had been spoiled by an uninterrupted course of successful practice, and that the habits of jovial indulgence, in which he was countenanced by the society of persons of the first quality of that period, would naturally tend to make him less circumspect in his manners and conversation than the decorum of modern days would tolerate. Notwithstanding these numerous acts of liber- ality, his professional gains enabled him to pur- chase various estates; in 1708, he added the manor of Linton to his paternal inheritance in Yorkshire, and bought another in Northampton- shire, of the value of 800/. per annum. In the same year he purchased also the perpetual advow- son of the living of Headborne- Worthy, in Hamp- shire, which he bestowed upon Mr. Bingham, Fellow of University College, Oxford, a person of great learning and merit. The dangerous illness of Prince George of Den- mark caused the queen to forget the former dis- courteous levity of Radcliffe, and he was accord- ingly once more applied to, and admitted into the royal presence; but his skill proved unavailing, and the prince died of a dropsy, consequent upon an asthma of long standing. On the doctor's arrival in Bath, where the prince was drinking the waters, Pittis says the queen told him, " That no RADCLIFFE. 139 rewards or favours should be wanting, could he but remove the convulsions she was troubled with, in the cure of those which her dearly beloved hus- band bore." But Radcliffe, continues his biogra- pher, u who was unused to flatter, instantly gave the queen to understand, that nothing but death could release his Royal Highness from the pangs he was afflicted with ; and though it might be a rule amongst surgeons to apply caustics to such as were burned or scalded, it was very irregular among physicians to drive and expel watery humours from the body by draughts of the same element ; and that the prince had been so tampered with, that nothing in the art of physic could keep him alive more than six days." A prediction which was verified. In 1710, Radcliffe himself was attacked by ill- ness, and on his recovery had thoughts of retiring into the country, as the hurry of business had now become burthensome to him : this intention, how- ever, he was induced to relinquish, at the persua- sion of Dr. Sharp, the archbishop of York ; and it so happened, that this worthy prelate was the first patient of distinction who profited by the doctor's advice on his resuming the practice of his profes- sion, as will appear from the following letter : " Good Doctor, I must own, and I do it with great pleasure, that next to the providence of the great God, my recovery is owing to you. But the diligence and concern you have shown in your attendance upon me, is of far less moment than your regard for the preservation of a gentleman* * Dr. Sacheverel, at that time impeached. 140 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. thro' whose sides the dignity of the sacerdotal order is wounded. The reasons you give for others to stand by him in the day of trial are very just, and the pains you take in soliciting for his ac- quittance extremely commendable. He should not have carried things so far ; however, since he has, it will be looked upon as an act of uncharitableness in us, that are his brethren, not to endeavour to exhibit him out of the difficulties he has plunged himself into. I must applaud your making inte- rest for bail for him, and think it much better that the Doctors B s and L r should be his sure- ties, than the Duke of B t and B m, because they will not be so much the mark of the persons at helm. I fear we shall not have power enough to give a parliamentary sanction to the doctrines he has preached ; but, in all probability, we shall be able to mitigate the punishment some people threaten him with. " The expenses he must be at in his defence, cannot but be very great, and beyond his abili- ties ; therefore, I altogether approve your designs towards the discharge of them, as a work of the greatest charity, and am, " Good Doctor, " Your most obliged friend, " And humble servant, "JOHN EBOK." About this time Radcliffe lost one of his most intimate friends and companions, Lord Craven ; and as he must have reflected that the death of this nobleman had been accelerated by habits of excess and indulgence, which his physician had, by his RADCLIFFE. 141 own example, rather contributed to countenance than to check, it is no wonder that the event made a great impression upon his spirits. He suddenly became more grave and thoughtful ; and expressed his feelings in this letter to their common friend, the Duke of Beaufort. " My dear Duke, You will doubtless be very much surprised and grieved at the death of one of your most intimate acquaintances, which makes me wish that some other hand had eased mine of a task that renews my affliction, at the same time it gives birth to yours. But since it may be expected from me, as the physician of the deceased, to give you the circumstances of my poor Lord Craven's sickness and untimely end, your Grace will have the goodness to be made apprized of them after this manner. His lordship, from a particular freedom of living, which he took and always in- dulged himself in, had contracted an obeseness of body, that through want of exercise made him entirely averse to it. This disposition bred an ill habit of body in him, from whence proceeded dropsical symptoms, which I endeavoured to pre- vent the effects of, by proper remedies. Nor could they have proved unsuccessful, had his lordship been of a less hospitable temper, or the nobility and gentry been less taken with the sweetness of his conversation and affability of his deportment. Alas ! 1 tremble for your Grace, when 1 consider that all these good qualities, that were so eminent and conspicuous in my dear breathless lord, occa- sioned the very loss of them, for other noblemen's imitation ; for by these engaging, these attractive, BRITISH PHYSICIANS. and alluring virtues, the best, good-natured com- panion that ever lived, is lost, for ever lost, to all our hopes and wishes, and had it not in his power to abstain from what was his infelicity, while it was thought to be his comfort. " Poor William, Lord Craven ! How did I flatter myself with the uninterrupted enjoyment of his inviolate and unalterable friendship, during the residue of those few years of life that are allotted for me ! How have I dwelled upon the contem- plation of his future acts of affection, loyalty, and beneficence to the church, the state, and the com- monwealth, when I should be laid low in the earth, and be devoid of means to see and admire 'em ! And yet, how have I been deceived in surviving that dear, that agreeable person, whose death I ardently desired, for the sake of posterity, to be long, long preceded by my demise. " Your Grace will pardon me this one soliloquy in remembrance of a loss that is in common to all who had the honour of his acquaintance, or who might have received benefit by his example. And give me leave to tell you, that next to yourself and my good Lord of Denbigh, there is no one whose welfare I had more at heart than his lordship's. " "What is incumbent upon me, is to request of your Grace to take care of a life so important as yours is, in this dearth of great and valuable men ; and to assure you, that while you consult the preservation of your health, by letting the ex- ercises of the field share with the pleasures of the bottle, in so doing, your Grace will not only give length of days to that which is mortal in your own earthly fabrick, but for some small time longer RADCLIPFE. 143 prevent the return of that frail tenement of clay to its first origin, which as yet continues to be dragged on, by, u My dear Duke, " Your Grace's most obliged " And faithful servant, " JOHN RADCLIFFE." Two years after the date of this letter the Duke of Beaufort was taken ill of the small-pox ; and the manner in which Radcliffe treated both the disease and the friends of the patient is thus given by Pittis. "The doctor was sent for, and found his Grace's window-shutters closed up in such a manner, by the old lady dutchess his grandmother's order, that not a breath of air could come into the room, which almost deprived the duke of the very means of respiration. This method had been observed by the physicians, in her Grace's youthful days ; and this she was resolved to abide by, as the most proper in this conjunc- ture, being fearful that her grandson might other- wise catch cold, and by the means of it, lose a life that was so precious to her and the whole nation. She had also taken a resolution to give her attendance upon the duke in person, during his sickness, and was in the most violent con- sternation and passion imaginable when Dr. Rad- cliffe, at his first visit, ordered the curtains of the bed to be drawn open, and the light to be let in as usual into his bed- room. ' How, said the dutchess, have you a mind to kill my grandson ? Is this the tenderness and affection you have always ex- pressed for his person ? Tis most certain his grandfather and I were used after another man- 144 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. ner; nor shall he be treated otherwise than we were, since we recovered, and lived to a great age, without any such dangerous experiments.' ' All this may be,' replied the doctor with his wonted plainness and sincerity ; ' but I must be free with your Grace, and tell you, that unless you will give me your word that you'll instantly go home to Chelsea and leave the duke wholly to my care, I shall not stir one foot for him : which if you will do, without intermeddling with your unnecessary advice, my life for his that he never miscarries, but will be at liberty to pay you a visit in a month's time.' When at last, with abundance of difficulty, that great lady was persuaded to acquiesce, and give way to the entreaties of the duke and other noble relations, and had the satisfaction to see her grandson, in the time limited, at Chelsea, restored to perfect health : insomuch that she had such an implicit belief of the doctor's skill afterwards, that though she was in the 85th year of her age at that very time, she declared that it was her opinion she should never die while he lived, it being in his power to give length to her days by his never- failing medicines." During the stay of Prince Eugene in England, which took place in this year, he condescended to accept an invitation to dine with Radcliffe, Avho is said to have treated his princely guest after the fashion of true old English hospitality : instead of the ragouts and other French dishes with which the nobility had entertained him, the doctor or- dered his own table to be covered with barons of beef, legs of mutton and pork, and other substan- tial British viands, and directed some strong beer, seven years old, to be served round to the company, RADCLIFFE. 145 in addition to foreign wines. The prince was so pleased with this national repast, that on taking his leave, he addressed Radcliffe in French to the following effect: "Doctor, I have been fed at other tables like a courtier, but received at yours as a soldier, for which I am highly indebted to you, since I must tell you that I am more ambitious of being called by the latter appellation than the former. Nor can I wonder at the bravery of the British nation, that has such food and liquors of their own growth as what you have this day given us a proof of." In the following year (1713) he was elected Member of Parliament for the town of Bucking- ham, and began now to retire from practice, re- commending Dr. Mead to his patients. During his 'short; sitting in the House, he is recorded to have made two speeches one in favour of the malt-tax bill, the other in support of the bill to pre- vent the growth of schism. The first began in this manner : " Mr. Speaker I am sensible, that tho' I am an old man, I am but a young member, and therefore should defer speaking till my betters have delivered their sentiments ; but young and old are obliged to shew their duty to their coun- try, which I look upon with the eyes of a son to his parent. Crassus's son, that was tongue-tied, spoke when his father was in danger ; and I, who otherwise should have no relish for speech-making, do the same upon the same motive," &c. &c. On the 28th of July, 1714, Queen Anne was seized with the sickness which terminated her life. Radcliffe was at that time not in London, but L 146 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. confined by a fit of the gout at his house at Car- shalton, in Surrey: notwithstanding, his enemies accused him of refusing to give his professional advice in the case of his sovereign ; and a Member of Parliament went even so far as to move, on the 5th of August, four days after the death of the queen, that Radcliffe should be summoned to at- tend in his place, in order to be censured for not waiting upon her majesty in her last extremities. Upon this occasion he wrote the following letter to a friend. " Carshalton, Aug. 7, " Dear Sir I could not have thought so old an acquaintance, and so good a friend, as Sir John always professed himself, would have made such a motion against me. God knows, my will to do her majesty any service has ever got the start of my ability, and I have nothing that gives me greater anxiety and trouble than the death of that great and glorious princess. I must do that justice to the physicians that attended her in her illness, from a sight of the method that was taken for her pre- servation, transmitted me by Dr. Mead, as to de- clare nothing was omitted for her preservation ; but the people about her (the plagues of Egypt fall on them !) put it out of the power of physick to be of any benefit to her. I know the nature of attending crowned heads in their last moments too well, to be fond of waiting upon them without be- ing sent for by a proper authority. You have heard of pardons being sign'd for physicians, be- fore a sovereign's demise. However, as ill as I was, I wou'd have went to the queen in a horse-litter, RADCLIFFE. 147 had either her majesty, or those in commission next her, commanded me so to do. You may tell Sir John as much, and assure him from me, that his zeal for her majesty will not excuse his ill-usage of a friend who has drank many a hundred bottles with him, and cannot, even after this breach of a good understanding, that ever was preserved be- tween us, but have a very good esteem for him. I must also desire you to thank Tom Chapman for his speech in my behalf, since I hear it is the first he ever made, which is taken the more kindly ; and to acquaint him, that I shall be glad to see him at Carshalton, since I fear (for so the gout tells me) that we shall never sit any more in the House of Commons together. I am, dear Sir, " Yours with the greatest friendship " And observance, "JOHN RADCLIFFE." The tide of popular feeling was, however, against him ; and he was not without some appre- hension of suffering even personal violence, in case he ventured out, as will appear from this letter, addressed to his friend Dr. Mead, at Child's Coffee- house, in St. Paul's Churchyard. " Carshalton, Aug. 3, 1714. " Dear Sir I give you and your brother many thanks for the favour you intend me to-morrow, and if there is any other friend that will be agree- able to you, he shall meet with a he_arty welcome from me. Dinner shall be on the fable by two, when you may be sure to find me ready to wait on L 2 ]48 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. you ; nor shall I be at any other time from home, because I have received several letters that threaten me with being pulled to pieces, if ever I come to London. After such menaces as these, it is easy to imagine that the conversation of two such very good friends is not only extremely desirable, but the'enjoyment of it will be a great happiness and satisfaction to him who is, " Dear Sir, " Your most obliged "Past four in the " Humble servant, afternoon." "JOHN RADCLIFFB. Radcliffe survived only a few months the date of this letter, dying on the 1st Nov. 1714, in the 65th year of his age, and falling, according to his ear- liest biographer, " a victim to the ingratitude of a thankless world, and the fury of the gout." By his will he left his Yorkshire estate to the Master and Fellows of University College for ever, in trust for the foundation of two travelling fellow- ships ; the overplus to be paid to them, for the pur- pose of buying perpetual advowsons for the mem- bers of the said college. The choice of the two fellows was vested in the Archbishop of Canter-- bury, the Lord Chancellor, the Chancellor of the University of Oxford, the Bishops of London and "Winchester, the two principal Secretaries of State, the Lord Chief Justices of the King's Bench and Common Pleas, and the Master of the Rolls all for the time being. To St. Bartholomew's Hospi- tal he gave, for ever, the yearly sum of 500^., towards mending their diet, and the further yearly sum of 1001. for buying of linen : 5000/. for the RADCLIFFE. 149 enlargement of the building of University College, Oxford ; 40,000/. for the building of a library at Oxford; and when the library should be built, 1501. per annum to the librarian, and 100Z. per annum, for ever, for buying books. After the payment of these bequests, and some legacies to various individuals mentioned in the will, he gave to his executors, in trust, all his estates in Buck- inghamshire, Yorkshire, Northamptonshire, and Surrey, to be applied to such charitable purposes as they all, in their discretion, should think best ; but no part thereof to their own use or benefit.* Besides the Radcliffe Library, which was finished and opened in 1749, the Observatory and public Infirmary at Oxford were built from these funds, the faithful and enlightened guardians of which have ever been found ready to contribute, ac- cording to their means, to every charitable and useful purpose. In 1825, they gave 20001. to- wards building the present College of Physicians ; and, towards defraying the expenses of the erection ' and completion of the Oxford Lunatic Asylum, opened in 1827, they subscribed by four donations, at different periods of that work, the sum of 2700/. the ends and purposes of which establishment seemed to accord with, and bear an affinity to, those of the Radcliffe Infirmary. * The first trustees were the Right Hon. William Bromley, Prin- cipal Secretary of State, Sir George Beaumont, Bart., Thomas Sclater, of Gray's Inn, Esq., and Anthony Keck, of Fleet-street, Gentleman. The present trustees are, Lord Sidmouth, Mr. Cart- wright, M.P. for Northamptonshire, Mr. Ashurst, M.P. for Oxford- shire, Sir B. Peel, and Mr. Charles Bathurst. When any vacancy occurs, it is filled up by the. remaining trustees electing another. 150 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. Radcliffe's body lay in state at the house where he died, till the 27th of November ; it was then removed to an undertaker's in the Strand, and thence escorted to his favourite city, Oxford. The following is the programme of the ceremony to be observed at his funeral. "At a General Meeting of the Vice- Chancellor, Heads of Houses, and Proctors of the Uni- versity of Oxford, at the Apodyterium (Ves- try) of the Convocation-House, on Saturday, Novr. 27, 1714, "For the more solemn performance of the fu- neral rites of the late Worshipful Doctor John Radcliffe, our most munificent benefactor, it is agreed and ordered as follows : " I. That upon ringing St. Mary's great bell on Wednesday next, at one of the clock in the afternoon, all members of the Convocation do re- pair to the publick schools, in their common gowns and caps, there, together with the vice-chancellor and proctors, to receive the corpse at the great gate, and to attend the same to the Divinity School, where it is to be deposited, and to lie for public view till eleven of the clock on Friday morning. "II. That on Friday, at twelve of the clock, upon tolling St. Mary's great bell, all members of the Convocation aforesaid, (as also the noblemen,) do meet in the Convocation House, in such their several habits and hoods as are usually worn at the holding a Convocation ; there to abide in their E roper seats, whilst the public orator makes a atin oration over the body, which on that occa- RADCLIFFE. 151 sion is to be removed thither, and whilst other proper ceremonies are performing. "III. That from thence, all the company do attend the body by Brazen-Nose, Lincoln, Exeter, and Jesus Colleges, to North-Gate, and so by Carfax to St. Mary's Church; where, all persons being seated in their proper places, and the burial service being begun by Mr. Vice-Chancellor, after the lesson, a funeral anthem is to be sung by the choir; and when that is ended, and the corpse brought to the grave, the orator is to make an- other short speech, after which, the remaining part of the burial office being performed, every one is quietly to depart home. " IV.- That a Convocation be held, in which the benefactions of Dr. Radcliffe being first declared, a proposal shall be made to the house for a decree to enrol the Doctor's name in the registry of the public benefactors of the University, for conferring honorary degrees, and for giving all other possible testimonies of our grateful regard to the testimony of the deceased. "V. All Bachelors of Arts and Under-gra- duates are hereby strictly commanded to behave themselves in a manner suitable to so solemn an occasion. And all persons whatsoever are en- joined, upon the severest penalties, not to tear off the escutcheons, or to make any disturbance in the Church, the Divinity School, or in any part of the procession. And all Magistrates are to take care that no disorder may happen through the whole course of the solemnity, or, at least, that no offender may go unpunished. " BERN. GARDINER, Vice-Chancellor. 152 BRITISH PHYSICIAN'S. "All Colleges and Halls are desired to toll a bell from twelve of the clock on Wednesday, and from twelve of the clock on Friday, till the great bell of St. Mary's ceases on each day." A few years ago, about 1820, the situation of his grave in St. Mary's Church was not very precisely known; but on opening one near the supposed spot, a brick grave was discovered, which proved to be that of Radcliffe, by the evi- dence of a gold coffin-plate ; the simple inscrip- tion of which was forthwith copied, and engraved on the marble pavement -stone immediately over the place. JOHN RADCLIFFE M. D. DIED NOV B . THE I ST . 1714, IX THE 65 TH . YEAR OP HIS AGE. But where, and of whom, can it be said with so much propriety as of Radcliffe, in the classical city of Oxford, embellished, as it is, with buildings that bear his name Si monumentum requiris, circumspice ? In the course of this memoir many instances have been given to show that Radcliffe was bold, rude, and frequently wanting in the common cour- tesies of life, particularly towards his professional brethren, with whom he was always waging war. This trait of his character was happily ridiculed in the " Map of Diseases," given by Martin Scriblerus, which was "thicker set with towns than any Flanders' map;" for there Radcliffe was painted at the corner, contending for the universal RADCLIFFE. 153 empire of this world, and the rest of the physi- cians opposing his ambitious designs, with a pro- ject of a treaty of partition to settle peace. With such a disposition, one cannot be surprised that his fame and success raised him up many envious rivals, who were unwilling to give him any other praise than that of an active, ingenious, adventuring empiric, whom constant practice had brought at length to some skill in his profession. On the other hand, he has been represented by Dr. Mead, who knew him well, and was a most competent judge of his merits, " to have been de- servedly at the head of his profession, on account of his great medical penetration and experience." Richardson relates of him that he once said to Dr. Mead, "I love you, and now I will tell you a sure secret to make your fortune ; use all man- kind ill" and it certainly was his own practice. Radcliffe himself owned that he was avaricious, even to spunging (whenever he could contrive to do it), at a tavern reckoning, a sixpence or shil- ling among the rest of the company, under pre- tence of hating (as he ever did) to change a guinea, because (said he) it slips away so fast. He would never be brought to pay bills without much following and importunity ; nor even then, if there appeared any chance of wearying out his creditors. A pavier, after long and fruitless at- tempts, caught him just getting out of his chariot at his own door, in Bloomsbury Square, and set upon him. "Why you rascal," said the doctor, " do you pretend to be paid for such a piece of work ? why, you have spoiled my pavement, and then covered it over with earth to hide your bad 154 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. work." " Doctor," said the pavier, " mine is not the only bad work that the earth hides." " You dog, you," said Radcliffe, "are you a wit? you must be poor come in ;" and paid him. If this fondness for money be truly imputed to him, it must, at the same time, be admitted by all, that though he were unsatisfied in getting (Which was a sin) yet in bestowing He was most princely. 155 M E A D. RICHARD MEAD \vas born at Stepney, near Lon- don, on the llth of August, 1673. His father, Matthew Mead, a name still eminent amongst divines, had been one of the two ministers of that parish, but had been ejected for non-conformity, in the second year after the restoration of Charles the Second. This circumstance did not prevent him from continuing to preach there before a nume- rous congregation of dissenters, until his demise in 1699. His fortune was considerable, and he bestowed a liberal education on a progeny of thir- teen children, of whom Richard was the eleventh. A private tutor was maintained in his house until the violent measures of 1683 scattered this little seminary abroad. King Charles was resolved to wreak his revenge on those whom he could not make proselytes to his principles, or to his want of principle ; the aged minister of Stepney was ac- cordingly accused of being privy to some designs against the government, and, as a non-conformist could not trust to the consciousness of innocence, he committed the chance of safety to flight. Having placed Richard at a good school, he de- parted for Holland. The boy distinguished him- self early by his attainments in the Greek and Latin languages, and was sent to complete his studies at Utrecht, at the age of sixteen. The 156 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. eminent Grsevius was here his preceptor; and after a residence of three years, being resolved to dedicate himself to medicine, he bent his steps to Leyden. Pitcairn was the professor of the prac- tice of medicine at this university, and his young pupil managed to unlock his usual reserve so far, as even to obtain from him several valuable hints, of which he afterwards availed himself in his writings, but never without an acknowledgment of their origin. When his medical education was accomplished, he travelled in various parts of Europe, and parti- cularly in Italy, in company with his eldest bro- ther, with David Polhill, Esq., and with Dr. Pellet, who subsequently became president of the London College of Physicians. He appears to have em- ployed this opportunity to great advantage ; and at Padua took the degree of doctor. He returned home in 1696, and commenced the practice of his profession in the house where he had first seen the light. During some years of residence at Stepney, he succeeded in establishing his reputation. In 1701 he published his "Mechanical Account of Poisons" on which he had been some time em- ployed. He deserves particular notice, as having been one of the early votaries of experimental physiology : no small degree of courage was ne- cessary for the path which he had chosen. He handled vipers, provoked them, and encouraged them to seize hold of hard bodies, on which he imagined that he could collect their venom in all its force. Having obtained the matter, he con- veyed it into the veins 6f living animals, mixed it with human blood, and even ventured to taste it, MEAD. 157 in order to establish the utility of sucking the wounds inflicted by serpents. He laboured to discover a specific for the cure of hydrophobia, and has only added his great name to the long catalogue of failures. He alludes to the investiga- tion of some chemical substances, whose publica- tion might have been injurious to society; this was neither a vain insinuation, nor a groundless fear, in the age in which Mead lived, when secret poisoning had attained a fatal perfection in some parts of Europe, and when the infant state of che- mical science had not yet revealed the numerous tests which we now possess for detecting the pre- sence of poison. Whatever may be the merit of these Essays, their author afforded a noble instance of candour, when, forty years afterwards, he re- traced, in a second edition, not a few of his former opinions, acknowledging, that " in some facts he had been mistaken, and in some con- clusions too precipitate." In his younger days he had believed that he could account, mechani- cally, for the effects of several poisons, by their mixture with the blood; but, improved by age and experience, he became convinced, that, in all liv- ing creatures, a matter infinitely more subtile, exists, over which poisons possess a real, although inexplicable, power. His second work attempted to illustrate the Influence of the Sun and Moon upon Human Bodies; but, as the Journal des Sgavans of the time says, " the particular merit of this book is, that, independently of the system, we find it filled with a number of observations of great importance in the practice of medicine." 158 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. In his travels through Italy he had met with the letter of Bonomo, which contains an Account of the cutaneous Worms which generate the Itch. Mead presented an analysis of Bonomo's researches to the Royal Society. He was elected a fellow, and two years afterwards, placed on the council, of which he continued a member from 1707 till his death. Sir Isaac Newton appointed him, in 1717? one of the vice-presi- dents. In 1703, Mead was chosen physician of St. Thomas's Hospital, and, about the same time, was appointed by the company of Surgeons to read the anatomical lectures in their hall, which he continued to do during six or seven years with much credit. Mead has thus the honour of forming one link in that chain of physicians who, down to the resignation of Baillie, were almost the sole teachers of anatomy in this country. The University of Oxford conferred the doc- torate on him in 1707 5 an( l i n 1716 he was ad- mitted a fellow of the College of Physicians. He was one of the censors of that body in 1716, 1719, and 1724, but declined to accept the office of President, which was offered to him in 1744. George the Second, who had employed him in his family whilst Prince of Wales, appointed him his own physician, on succeeding to the throne in 1727- Mead was now fast approaching the summit of his fortune : Radcliffe took particular pleasure in promoting the interests of an indi- vidual whose character was totally opposite to his own, and towards whom, perhaps, from that very contrast, he felt an attraction. Into whatever fa- vourable situations Radcliffe may have promoted MEAD. 159 Mead, it is certain, that his amiable manners and fine accomplishments would enable him firmly to maintain his place. On the death of his protector, Mead moved into his house in Bloomsbury Square, and resigned the hospital. Two days before the demise of Queen Anne, Mead was called to a trying situation, to consult at the bedside of a dying sovereign. lie possessed, "however, not merely the professional knowledge, but also the intimacy with society, and the ready tact which the emergency demanded. Some in such situations find a protection in reserve, but Mead, either more penetrating or more decided than the other attendants on her majesty, no sooner was admitted to her presence, than he de- clared that she could not long survive. Finding it difficult to obtain assent, he intimated that it would be sufficient to send to Hanover an account of the symptoms, from which the physicians at- tached to that court would at once perceive, that before the detail reached them, the subject of it must have ceased to exist. Mead had frequently perceived the efficacy of purgatives in preventing or diminishing the se- condary fever, in cases of confluent small-pox, and in 1747 he printed his " Treatise on the Small- Pox and Measles," in Latin. The purity and ele- gance of style exhibited in this work have attracted the admiration of scholars. He subjoined a " Trans- lation from Rhazes," in order to show the con- formity existing between the practice of the Ara- bians and that recommended by Sydenham and Freind. Boerhaave, with whom Mead had kept up a constant correspondence, supplied him with 160 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. the only remaining Arabic manuscript of the Essay of Rhazes, which is preserved at Leyden. Mead had been long before instrumental in pro- moting inoculation for the small-pox. The Prince of Wales desired him, in 1721, to superintend the inoculation of some condemned criminals, intend- ing afterwards to encourage the practice, by em- ploying it in his own family : the experiment amply succeeded, and the individuals on whom it was made recovered their liberty. When the terrible plague which ravaged Mar- seilles communicated a dread of its recurrence in England, the question of contagion was warmly agitated. The majority of the French physicians discredited its contagious origin, and the interests of commerce in our own country favoured the negative view. On the other hand, the risk of neglecting to guard against the deadly invader, induced the government to apply to Mead for ad- vice on the occasion. After a careful examination of the subject he declared his opinion that the plague is a contagious distemper, and a quaran- tine was accordingly enjoined. In his Short Dis- course concerning Pestilential Contagion, and the methods to le wed to prevent it, he has given ample directions for the system of Medical Police which ought to be enforced in case of the actual occurrence of the plague, a calamity from which we have happily escaped. This tract excited so much interest at a period of alarm, that it passed through seven editions in one year. Without the interposition of Dr. Mead, there is reason to believe that the invention of Sutton for expelling the foul and corrupted air from ships MEAD. 161 and other close and confined places, would have shared the same fate with many other useful dis- coveries, which ignorance, jealousy, and often private interest, have stifled in their birth. But fortunately, our illustrious patron of science, being at first sight convinced of the advantages of his method, was determined to procure time and patience for a scheme of whose ultimate success he was confident : accordingly he engaged the Lords of the Admiralty to order a trial of the new machine to he made, at which he himself assisted with them, and with several fellows of the Royal Society, whom he had interested in the cause : he presented a memorial to that learned body, in which he demonstrated its simplicity and efficacy ; and also procured a model of it to be made in copper, which he deposited in their museum. At last, after a ten years' tedious solicitation, he obtained from the Lords of the Admiralty an order to Mr. Sutton to provide all the ships of his Majesty's navy with this useful machine. We believe that it has been since superseded by more recent inventions. Mead gradually felt that disposition to retire from the giddy whirl of professional routine which usually induces the wise to snatch, if possible, a short interval of repose and retrospection between the infirmities of age and the parting moments of existence. This period he partly occupied in the composition of his Medico, Sacra, or Commentary on the more remarkable diseases of which mention is made in the Bible ; in which it was his object to reconcile the knowledge derived from actual ob- servation with the .features of malady which are there delineated. He is of opinion that the de- ll 162 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. moniacs were lunatics and epileptics. The most important of all" his works was also the fruit of those hours of leisure his Medical Precepts and Cau- tions, in which he has frankly delivered the result of his extensive experience, and of his mature reflection He concludes the work with some able remarks on the preservation of bodily and mental health, which derive additional weight as the last words of an octogenarian. Compared with similar productions of its epoch, this book stands high on the ground of judgment and of taste; it is gene- rally free from the superstitious polypharmacy which defaces many of its contemporaries, and from the diffuseness and verbiage which the fashion of the time abused into the multiplication of bulky vo- lumes. It is highly valuable as a compendious and elegant specimen of the doctrines and practice of the first half of the last century. Such were the em- ployments of his latter years : the advancement of physical science, and an explanation of some of the difficulties which casually present themselves to the student of that nobler study which pursues immor- tality : " how worthy," to use the words of one of this numerous biographers, " is that man to have lived, who dies thus occupied ! " After the most brilliant career of professional and literary reputation, of personal honour, of wealth, and of notoriety, which ever fell in com- bination to the lot of any medical man in any age or ci'Untry, Mead took to the bed from which he was to rise no more, on the llth of February, and expired on the 16th of the same month, 1754. His death was unaccompanied by any visible signs of pain. MEAD. 163 In practice he had been absolutely without a rival ; his average receipts had, during several years, amounted to between six and seven thousand pounds, an enormous sum in relation to the value of money at that period. So great was the anxiety to obtain his opinion, that he daily repaired to a coffee- house in the city, and to another at the west end of the metropolis, to inspect written or to receive oral statements from the apothecaries, and to deliver his decision. His charity and his hospitality were un- bounded ; the epithet " princely" has often been applied to him on this head, but he has truly left an example which men of all ranks may be proud to imitate according to their means ; these qualities in Mead were not the result of the accident which ex- alts or limits our means, but were the spontaneous expression of his heart. His gratuitous advice was ever open, not merely to the indigent, but also to the clergy, and to all men of learning ; and he devoted his emoluments to the patronage of literature and of the fine arts in a manner that requires a more distinct mention. Radcliffe was a worthy predecessor of Mead in the magnificent use which he made of his fortune. We may safely challenge any country to produce two individuals of the same profession, and flou- rishing at the same period, who have with equal generosity applied their revenue to the promotion of science and of erudition, and to the relief of misery. But Mead excelled all the nobility of his age and country in the encouragement which he afforded to the fine arts, and to the study of anti- quity. Considered merely in the light of a patron, he would remain perhaps the most conspicuous 164 BRITISH PHYSICIANS.' example of that character which biography has celebrated ; but when to his exertions in that diffi- cult and often thankless career are added the most eminent medical practice of his time, consummate acquirements, and literary labours important to the healing art, we shall find it difficult to select his equal among the annals of any period. Those excellent traits do not, however, complete his por- trait ; a noble frankness, suavity of manners, mo- deration in the estimate of his own merit, and a cordial acknowledgment of the deserts of his contemporaries ; liberality, not merely of purse, but also of sentiment, must be drawn in order to finish the likeness. In some respects his position in society resem- bled that which Sir Joseph Banks so long occu- pied to the honour of his country ; but circum- stances and natural genius had conspired to endow Mead with a more delicate and refined taste and a more comprehensive range of perception and of knowledge. Justly is it to be regretted that so few among the many opulent and gifted indi- viduals who adorn our times, have been disposed or enabled to imitate the example which these two illustrious persons have bequeathed to posterity. Mead possessed in an extreme degree the taste for collecting ; but his books, his statues, his medals, were not at all confined to ornament a secluded apartment, or to amuse only his own leisure ; the humble student, the unrecommended foreigner, the poor inquirer, derived almost as much enjoyment from these unburied treasures as their ingenious owner.* In his spacious mansion, in Great Or- * Sir Hans Sloane, \re may digress to enumerate as another of MEAD. 165 raond-street, he had built a gallery, which only his opulence and taste could have filled. The printed catalogue of his library contains 6592 separate numbers ; the most rare and ancient works were to be found there : Oriental, Greek, and Latin ma- nuscripts formed no inconsiderable part. His col- lection of statues, coins, gems, prints, and drawings, will, probably, remain for ever unrivalled amongst private amateurs. His pictures alone were sold, at his death, for 3400^. Ingenious men sought in his house the best aid for their undertakings, and in the owner their most enlightened, as well as most liberal, patron. He constantly kept in his pay several scholars and artists, who laboured, at his expense, for the benefit of the public. His correspondence extended to all the prin- cipal literati of Europe. They consulted him, and sent him curious presents, but in such acts he was those physicians who, not satisfied with a life of liberality, have considered, in their last moments, in what manner they might render themselves most beneficial to posterity. The foundation of the British museum was the immediate result of his will, in which he directs, that, after his decease (which occurred in 1753) the whole of his museum of natural and artificial curiosities, which had cost him fifty thousand pounds, should be offered to Parliament for the moderate sum of twenty thousand pounds, to be paid to his family. The contents of his collection were very various, and con- sisted of a library of 50,000 volumes, of 23,OffO medals and coins, of anatomical preparations, specimens of natural history, and a variety of other objects, whose particulars were entered in a catalogue, comprising thirty-eight volumes folio, and eight volumes quarto : such was the origin of the British Museum, which was opened in 1759. Thirty years before his death, Sloane had presented to the company of Apothecaries his botanical gardens at Chelsea ; and they have erected a statue of the founder in front of the green- house. 166 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. more frequently the creditor than the debtor. The King of Naples sent to request of him a complete collection of his treatises, and, in return, gave him the great work, which he was then encouraging, on the antiquities of Herculaneum ; a compliment not the less flattering from an accompanying invi- tation to Mead to visit him at his palace. At his tahle might be seen tbe most eminent men of the age, both natives and foreigners ; and he was often the only individual present who was acquainted with all their different languages. Pope was a ready guest, and the delicate poet was always sure to be regaled with his favourite dish of sweetbreads. Politics formed no bar of separation : Mead was a zealous Whig ; but the celebrated physicians Garth, Arbuthnot, and Freind, were not the less his inti- mate associates, because they were Tories. Towards the learned Freind he displayed a remarkable in- stance of disinterestedness. Freind was a member of parliament, (a distinction which we should gladly find more frequent in the history of medical men,) and was sent to the Tower for some sup- posed political offence. "While in confinement, he commenced that precious History of Medicine which has transmitted his name to posterity. Mead frequently visited him, attended his patients in his absence, employed the warmest solicitations with Sir Robert "NValpole for his release, and when he had procured his liberation, presented him with a very large sum, which he had received from the clients of his brother practitioner. The good of mankind, and the honour of his country, were two of his ruling principles. He persuaded the wealthy 107 citizen, Guy, to bequeath his fortune towards the foundation of the nohle hospital which has ho- nourably consecrated his name. Mead was twice married : by his first wife, Ruth Marsh, he had eight children. One of his daughters was married to Sir Edward Wilmot, Bart., an eminent physician, who enjoyed the particular favour of George the Second and Third ; another became the wife of Dr. Frank Nicholls, who was the most distinguished anatomical teacher of his time, and was the inventor of cor- roded anatomical preparations : he was likewise physician to the king. Mead's second wife was Anne, the daughter of Sir Rowland Alston, Bart. Although his receipts were so considerable, and although two large fortunes were bequeathed to him, his benevolence, public spirit, and splendid mode of living, prevented him from leaving great wealth to his family. The physician, who was the Mecsenas of his day, whose mansion was a grand museum, who kept a second table for his humbler dependents, and who was driven to his country house, near Windsor, by six horses, was not likely to amass wealth, but he did better he acted according to his conviction, that what he had gained from the public could not be more worthily bestowed than in the advancement of the public mind ; and he truly fulfilled the inscription which he had chosen for his motto : Non sibi sed toti. 168 H U X H A M. THE writings of John Huxhara have obtained far more notoriety than the incidents of his life, of which scarcely any traits remain. He was the son of a butcher at Halberton, in Devonshire. In early life he appears to have displayed a strong bent towards medical pursuits, which he cultivated with much ardour at Leyden, a university very high in reputation at the period of his studies, and of which he became one of the most eminent gra- duates. Plymouth was the scene of his profes- sional career, where he finally acquired extensive practice, and realized a considerable fortune. He early obtained entrance into the Royal Society, and communicated several papers on pathology and morbid anatomy, which are printed in the Philosophical Transactions. Huxham deserves particular honour as being one among those physicians who returned first to the path of observation, and who made nature their especial object of study and reflection, instead of blindly commenting on the dreams of their pre- decessors. It was not that he despised the know- ledge to be gathered from books, or the fruits of former experience ; on the contrary he was pro- foundly versed in the ancient writers, was tho- roughly imbued in particular with the works of Hippocrates, and composed in the Latin language IIUXIIAM. 169 with much fluency. But he perceived that the master, who was the object of his veneration, had derived his light from a careful and minute in- spection into the regions of disease, and in this respect he sedulously imitated his example with a success which few have had the perseverance to attain. He paid an earnest attention to the fluc- tuations of the seasons, to the changes of weather, and to their influence on the production of disease. This was the field Avhich Huxham chiefly culti- vated, an obstinate and difficult soil, demanding constant attention, and vigilant patience, and most slow in the rewards which it yields to the labourer. In the two volumes of his Observations de Aere et Morbis Epidemicis, he has detailed the results of a register kept at Plymouth during nearly thirty years (from 1724 to 1752). A third volume was edited after his death, which occurred at Plymouth, in 1708. This supplementary volume Avas pub- lished in 1770, by his son; and it is much to be regretted that this gentleman, who was also a Fellow of the Royal Society, did not enrich the work by some records of that father, who has stamped a lasting, although modest celebrity on the name of Huxharn. His Treatise on Fever has become the most popular of his works; it appeared in 1750, and was rapidly translated into German and French. His French biographer (1822) eulo- gizes it in terms which will not find universal assent in this country; he asserts that it is infi- nitely superior to the various Treatises on Fever which have been subsequently published in Eng- land, without excepting that of Cullen. This preference seems to be founded on his having 170 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. assigned an inflammatory cause to the greater part of fevers; or, in other words, on his having ap- proximated in principle to the school of Broussais. The German historian of medicine, Sprengel, more temperately ranks his work as the best which ap- peared on that subject during the first half of the eighteenth century. His discrimination and de- scription of the slow nervous fever form one of its most remarkable features. A singular distinction befell Huxham in consequence of this production. The Queen of Portugal was attacked with fever and was reduced to the last extremity, in spite of the exertions of the physicians of her country. The king at length summoned the physician at- tached to the British factory. This gentleman declared that he entertained some hope of her recovery, but stipulated on her being resigned to his sole discretion. Under his treatment the dis- order soon took a favourable turn, and her majesty rapidly convalesced. On being complimented at this successful issue, the physician replied that his only merit consisted in the application of doctrines which he had learned from the work of Huxham. The king immediately procured a translation of it to be made into the Portuguese language, which was published in a handsome quarto, and was transmitted by him to Huxham in a rich form. Huxham was also the author of Observations on Antimony, in 1756. An antimonial wine was formerly sold under his name, and a tincture of bark still bears it. His theory and practice were considerably influenced by the old humoral pa- thology, but he was not a blind partisan. He differs from many practitioners of his age in the IIUXIIAM. 7 paucity of prescriptions scattered through his works, and indeed lays it down, that the physi- cian who knows a disease, cannot be at a loss re- specting the form of his remedy; an opinion in which we cannot implicitly defer to his authority. His works have always been popular in Germany and France. They were collected by Reichel, and published in three volumes octavo, at Vienna, in 1773. We believe that a new edition of them will shortly appear at Leipsic, as a portion of the Collected Latin Medical Classics, an enterprise which reflects honour on Germany since the ex- hibition of such respect to the great observers of former times does not at all interfere with the pursuit of modern improvements, but is highly useful in tending to correct the prejudice, which flatters itself that every new case is a discovery. 172 PRINGLE. BOTH the families from which this physician des- cended are of ancient and honourable standing in the sonth of Scotland. His father was Sir John Pringle, Bart., of Stichell, and his mother was sister to Sir Gilbert Elliott, of Stobs, who also enjoyed the same rank. He was born in 1707, at Stichell House, in the county of Roxburgh, and after an early education by a private tutor under his father's roof, was removed to the University of St. Andrews. After a residence here of some years, he went to Edin- burgh, in 1727, with the view of studying physic, the profession which he was now resolved to follow. Another account supposes, that after he had studied at Edinburgh, he was intended for commerce, and was sent to Amsterdam to further that object ; and that, while in Holland, his mind received an accidental direction towards medicine from hearing a lecture, at Leyden, delivered by Boerhaave, which made a particular impression on his mind. It appears certain that he remained only one year at Edinburgh, and then hastened to avail himself at Leyden of the closing labours of the illustrious Boerhaave, who was then con- siderably advanced in years, and whom a longer delay might have finally precluded him from hear- ing : nor were* the instructions of that great master PRLXGLE. scattered on a barren soil. During ln's studies, which were most diligent, he formed an intimate friendship with Van Swieten, who ultimately ac- quired at Vienna, and, indeed, throughout Europe, a reputation of equal lustre. In 1730, his gradua- tion was accompanied by a thesis " De Marcore Senili," and his diploma was signed, among other professors, by Boerhaave, Albinus, and Gravesande. Pringle now settled in Edinburgh, and even in the early part of his career obtained universal esteem. These are not mere words of course, since we find him appointed in 1734, to be joint Professor of Moral Philosophy, with the right of succession on the death of his senior. His text book, in discharging this new employment, was PufFendorff's treatise De Officio Hominis et Civis; but he continually recommended to his pupils the works of Bacon, and particularly the Novum Organon. He annually delivered several lectures on the Immateriality and Immortality of the Soul. That a young physician should commence his practice by becoming a professor of ethics may, to some, appear an extraordinary mode of introduc- tion to eminence in the art of healing. Few, however, have attained more practical skill, more intimate acquaintance with their own peculiar sci- ence, or more deserved success than Pringle. To suppose that general attainments in knowledge, and even a predilection for its finer literature, have a tendency to disqualify or enfeeble the medical practitioner, is to avow an ignorance of the character and private history of the most dis- 174 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. tinguished men who in every age and country have improved or elevated that profession. Va- riety of knowledge was never seen to encumber the possessor; on the contrary, it prepares an ampler space and a firmer footing for all that is to come after. In the numberless and unexpected emergencies which occur in the relief of diseases of the body and the mind, in the ever varying combinations of causes and of character which present themselves, an almost universal acquain- tance with nature and art would seem to be de- manded. The power of making good observations, a retentive memory, a fixed attention, and the habit of generalizing, are among the most impor- tant qualities of the physician, and these can only be acquired or strengthened by an early and extensive intellectual education. Some of the most enlightened governments of Europe have perceived this truth during the present century, and now exact from the candidate for medical honours a course of more or less rigorous prelim- inary studies in general literature : we may cite France and Prussia in particular. The science of medicine is truly an alembic, through which the most dissimilar ingredients may be distilled into a pure and precious elixir vitse. A new field of exertion awaited Pringle, when, in 1742, he was appointed physician to the Earl of Stair, who then commanded the British army on the continent. This was the golden moment of his life, from which his eminence begins to date. For this appointment he was chiefly indebted to his friend Dr. Stevenson, an eminent physician at Edinburgh, who was intimately acquainted with PRINGLE. 175 this nobleman. Through the interest of his new patron he was appointed physician to the military hospital in Flanders ; and it was provided in his commission that he should receive a salary of twenty shillings a day, and he entitled to half-pay for life. The attention which he paid to his duty as an army physician does not require to be en- larged upon. His Treatise on the Diseases of the Army, which was first printed in 1752, is an ample proof of his zeal and industry in the branch of duty to which he had been so unexpectedly sum- moned, and testified that his previous pursuits had only rendered him more ready for any new depart- ment of his profession. One most humane mea- sure, and hitherto unpractised in Avarfare, appears to have sprung principally from his suggestion. It had been previously customary to remove the sick for the purpose of security, when the enemy was near, to a considerable distance from the camp, and many were, consequently, lost before they could be placed under the care of medical officers. Lord Stair, sensible of this evil, proposed to the Duke de Noailles, when the army was en- c.-imped at Aschaflfenburg, in 1743, that the hospi- tals, on both sides, should be considered as sanc- tuaries for the disabled, and mutually protected. The French commander, a nobleman distin- guished for benevolence, readily acceded to the proposition. After the battle of Dettingen, when the British hospital was at Feckenheim, a village upon the Maine, at a distance from the camp, the Duke, having occasion to send a detachment to another village upon the opposite bank, and apprehending tha tthis measure might alarm the sick, despatched 176 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. information to them that he had given express orders to his troops to forbear from disturbing them. This noble agreement was rigidly observed by both parties during that campaign. When deprived of the presence of Lord Stair, who soon retired from the command, Pringle re- commended himself so well to the Duke of Cum- berland, as to receive from his hands, in 1745, a commission appointing him physician-general to our forces in the Low Countries, and other parts beyond sea; and, on the following day, he was presented with a second commission from the Duke, as physician to the royal hospitals in these countries. Finding himself now permanently em- ployed, he resigned his professorship at Edinburgh, which had been continued under his name by assistants. In 1745 he was recalled to England to attend the forces which were to be sent against the Scotch malcontents. He was about the same time chosen a fellow of the Royal Society. In 1747 and ] 748 he again accompanied the troops abroad, and after the conclusion of the treaty of Aix-la- Chapelle finally established himself in London, where his connexions and active exertions soon raised him into extensive practice. In 1749 he was appointed physician in ordinary to the Duke of Cumberland; and in 17^0, he published, in a letter to Dr. Mead, his Observations on the Gaol or Hospital Fever. This essay was occasioned by the gaol distemper, which prevailed at that time in London, and in his choice of this theme for his first literary effort we perceive that skill in availing himself of the circumstance of the moment which usually characterizes superior minds, and conducts PBINGLE. 177 to that success which the careless routineer ascribes to chance. A variety of papers from his pen now enriched the Philosophical Transactions ; one of the most remarkable contained his " Experiments upon Septic and Antiseptic Substances, with re- marks relating to their use in the Theory of Medi- cine," and Copley's gold medal was the reward of this ingenious investigation. Another gave an " Account of several persons seized with the Gaol Fever by working in Newgate, and of the manner by which the infection was communicated to one entire family." This communication was deemed so important by the eminent Dr. Stephen Hales, that he requested the author's permission to pub- lish it, for the common benefit of the kingdom, in the Gentleman's Magazine, at that time by far the most popular literary vehicle in the country. A remarkable case of fragility, flexibility, and dissolution of the bones, and a relation of the virtues of soap in dissolving the stone, formed two of his next contributions to the society of which he was so distinguished an ornament. In 1752, he married a daughter of Dr. Oliver, an eminent physician of Bath, but this lady did not long participate in his increasing celebrity. About the time of his marriage appeared the first edition of the work which has stamped his name on the list of medical classics, and to which we have before alluded. This celebrated book passed through, we believe, seven editions during the life of the author, and was trans- lated into German, French, and Italian, dis- tinctions which were at that period not so easily accorded as at present. Few medical works have N 178 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. enjoyed a more friendly or universal reception than the Observations on the Diseases of the Army : in alluding to it Haller designates the author as " Vir illustris, de omnibus bonis artibus bene meritus." From the time that Pringle had been appointed physician to the army, it seems to have been his favourite object to soften, as far as was in his power, the sufferings attendant on warfare, and his benevolent efforts were not fruitless. Among the important points which he illustrates, are, the force which may at any time be relied upon for service ; the effects of long or short campaigns upon the health of soldiers ; the differ- ence between taking the field early, and going late into winter-quarters ; and other calculations founded on the materials which warfare too liberally sup- plies. He has proved the indispensable necessity of a free circulation of atmospheric air in hospi- tals, from observing, amongst other facts, that the sick who were placed in hospitals having defective doors and windows were most speedily restored to health, and were less subject to relapses. Desge- nettes observes, that he has often verified this assertion in the French military hospitals, and that he has frequently had occasion to break the windows of hospitals, when the indifference or prejudices of the attendants precluded other means of a regular ventilation. General Melville, when governor of the Neutral Islands, was enabled to be singularly useful, in consequence of the instruc- tions which he had received from the writings and conversation of Pringle. By taking care to have his men always lodged in large, open, and airy apartments ; and by rapidly shifting their quarters PRINGLE. 179 from the low, damp, and marshy parts of the coun- try, to the dry and hilly grounds, so as never to let his forces remain long enough in the swampy places to be injured by their malaria, he preserved the lives of seven hundred soldiers. In 1753, Pringle was chosen one of the council of the Royal Society. Honours of every sort now crowded upon him with that accumulative rapidity which usually follows the individual on whom the sun of prosperity has once begun to shine, and who has sufficient prudence to warm himself in its rays, without being dazzled by sudden brilliance. On the marriage of George the Third, he was ap- pointed physician to the young queen, and a few years subsequently was created a baronet. He had been previously admitted as a licentiate of the London College of Physicians, and, in 1763, was elected a fellow of that body. We soon find him physician to the Princess Dowager of Wales ; and, after being incorporated into several foreign so- cieties, he obtained, in 1772, the highest distinc- tion of his career, in the eminent office of president of the Royal Society. The period of his election was a fortunate epoch of natural knowledge : a taste for experimental investigation was diffusing itself through every part of the civilized world, and the genius of Pringle found a happy occupation in cherishing, this spirit. A universality of know- ledge, and a singular liberality of spirit, united to very considerable experience, both of active and studious life, seem to have peculiarly fitted him for his difficult post. Sir Godfrey Copley had, ori- ginally, bequeathed five guineas to be given, at each anniversary meeting of the Royal Society, N2 180 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. by the determination of the president and council, to the author of the best experimental observa- tions made during the preceding year. This pecuniary offering was, at length, converted, with greater propriety, into a gold medal ; and Pringle ably carved a new road to personal dis- tinction and utility, by the excellent discourses which he took occasion to deliver on the pre- sentation of this annual tribute. Six of these have been edited by Dr. Kippis, and display an intimate acquaintance with the history of philo- sophy, a noble zeal for its advancement, and a style unaffected, elegant, and perspicuous. The subject of the fourth discourse was particularly suited to his disposition aud pursuits ; it accom- panied the award of the medal to Capt. Cook, and discussed the means employed by that sagacious commander towards preserving the health of sea- men. The intimate friendship which subsisted between them renders it probable that Pringle had communicated some valuable suggestion on the subject to his intelligent friend ; and no pupil in the schools of Hygiene has ever existed, more capable of reducing its rules to practice, since, with a crew of one hundred and eighteen men, Cook performed a voyage of three years and eighteen days, throughout all the climates between fifty-two degrees north and seventy-one degrees south, and only lost one companion of his wander- ings. The use of sweet-wort, a rigid attention to cleanliness, and the careful preservation of his company from wet, and other injuries of weather, formed the chief part of his dietetic code. His example has not been lost upon our navy, which PRINGLE. 181 now maintains, in the confinement of a ship, a degree of health nearly equal to, if not often ex- ceeding, the average observed at home. Pringle became physician extraordinary to the king in 1774. We have not room for the enume- ration of the honours which he gradually received from abroad, and can only select his admission as one of the foreign members of the Royal Academy of Sciences at Paris, to which he succeeded on tho vacancy which Linnams had left in a society not prodigal of its favour. He had been elected to the chair of the Royal Society in the sixty-sixth year of his age, and the pressure of advancing time, increased by an injury from a fall, induced him, in 1778, to resign his arduous dignity, al- though earnestly solicited to retain it. The illus- trious Banks was appointed his successor. Pringle's house continued to be the resort of ingenious men of all nations ; his conversations, given on Sunday evenings, formed a point of union between his own friends and scientific travellers. He hoped, at length, to derive advantage to his infirmities from a journey to Scotland, and for a short time fixed his residence at Edinburgh. But Edinburgh, however interesting in other respects, failed in restoring to his spirits the renovating impulse which he had fondly anticipated : it presented the wreck of former ties, and that melancholy spec- tacle of vanished kindred and declining friends, which ever awaits the aged wanderer on revisiting the scenes of his youth. Before entirely quitting this city he presented ten volumes, folio, of Me- dical and Physical Observations, in manuscript, to the College of Physicians. He was, at the 182 "BRITISH PHYSICIANS. same time, preparing two other volumes, con- taining the prescriptions referred to in the pre- vious ones. He did not long survive his return to London. On the 14th of January, 1782, he -was dining with a small cluh, which was held at Watson's, in the Strand ; a fit seized him, from which he never re- covered. He died a few days after, in his seventy- fifth year. Pringle devoted much time to the study of di- vinity during the latter part of his life. In early life, his religious opinions seem to have been fluc- tuating, but he diligently investigated the subject in his maturer days, and became an earnest reader of commentators on the Scriptures, and of ser- mons. He published, at his own expense, some Theological Letters, which Michaelis had ad- dressed to him. Bacon was his favourite author ; in his school he had endeavoured to discipline his mind. To metaphysics, which he had formerly publicly pro- fessed, he latterly lost all attachment. Though he did not derive much pleasure from poetry, he was a lover of music, and had even been a per- former at a weekly concert at Edinburgh. A monument was erected to his memory in Westminster Abbey ; and Vicq d'Azyr, as well as Condorcet, celebrated his name in eulogies deli- vered before the Academy of Paris. He must be ranked with the most successful individuals who have ever cultivated physic, since he obtained, conjointly, the patronage of the great, the respect of the learned, and the confidence of the public. 183 FOTHERGILL. THE father of John Fothergill was a member of the estimable society of Quakers, and resided at Carr-End, in Yorkshire, the family estate of a pre- ceding generation, where this excellent man was born in the year 1712. He was one of many children, a circumstance which is generally, and with justice, considered favourable to the develop- ment of talents. His chief literary education was imbibed in the school of Jedburgh, in Yorkshire, a seminary which has acquired both classical and mathematical reputation. About the age of six- teen, he was apprenticed to Mr. Bartlett, an eminent apothecary at Bradford, who had previ- ously been the master of Dr. Hillary. His saga- city and assiduity soon induced his intelligent preceptor to permit him to visit and prescribe for his patients. On the expiration of his term, he repaired to Edinburgh, at a period when the pro- fessorial chairs were occupied by Monro, Alston, Rutherford, Sinclair, and Plummer, all students of the Boerhaavian school, and whose merits have been recorded, by Fothergill himself, in an ac- count which he published, in after life, of Dr. Russell, his contemporary and associate. The eminent Monro discovered the powers of his pupil, and urged him to reside sufficiently long to obtain the doctorate for till then he had only intended to 184 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. qualify himself for the profession of an apothecary. He used to take notes of the heads of each lec- ture, and on returning to his lodging, translated into Latin those which had been given in English ; he then carefully consulted and compared the opinions, hoth of the ancients and the moderns, on the subject of the lecture, to which he added such remarks upon each as his reading and reflection suggested. In his clinical studies he followed a similar plan ; when any case occurred to fix his attention, he examined the various authorities which bore upon the point, and formed a compa- rative result from their evidence and opinions. Many years afterwards he recommended this me- thod to Dr. Lettsom, in a letter which concludes by enforcing " the careful perusal of Hippocrates, and also of Aretseus and Celsus : one can never be too well acquainted with the knowledge con- tained in the first, nor with the elegant expres- sions of the last." These modes of study are not peculiar to Fothergill, but they are important to remark in tracing the steps by which an obscure man attained independence and distinction, and strengthen the evidence of the efficacy of earnest reading in a profession which is by many sup- posed to depend for success on natural abilities, or worldly industry, or mere personal observation whereas none more requires all the assistance that can be derived from the experience of others. Monro, in the fourth edition of his Osteology, which appeared in 1746, acknowledges the aid which he had obtained from his young pupil. In addition to his other occupations, Fothergill pre- served a diary of his actions and occurrences, in FOTHERGILL. 185 Latin. He graduated in 1736, and chose the use of Emetics for the subject of his thesis. He now came to London, the scene of all his subsequent emi- nence, and frequented the wards of St. Thomas's Hospital, where his application was equally unre- mitting. In 1740 he accompanied some friends on a short excursion to the continent, of which a brief sketch remains in a Latin letter addressed to his friend Dr. Cuming, of Dorchester. On his re- turn he settled in Gracechurch-street, and in 1746 became a licentiate of the College of Physicians. The fertility of his mind now began to evince itself in some detached essays, among which we remark one " On the Origin of Amber," his obser- vations on the Manna Persicum, and more particu- larly those " On a Case of recovering a Man dead in appearance." It is possible that these last may have had some share in contributing to the esta- blishment and regulations of the Humane Society, which was several years after founded by the ex- ertions of Dr. Hawes and others. A large practice rapidly rewarded the pains which he had bestowed on his education : as to his pecuniary means or early patrons little infor- mation remains, but it is certain that he acquired employment more early than the generality of his brethren : it is probable that the religious com- munity of which he was a worthy member contri- buted something to the rapidity of his advance- ment. Nothing (says Dr. Lettsom) hurt his feel- ings more, than an estimate of the medical pro- fession, formed upon lucrative advantages ; he was ever averse to speak of his pecuniary emoluments: " My only wish," he declared, " was to do what 186 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. little business might fall to my share as well as possible ; and to banish all thoughts of practising physic as a money-getting trade, with the same solicitude as I would the suggestions of vice or intemperance." These were not mere words of parade : when the success of his practice had ele- vated him to 'the summit of his career, he still professed and acted upon the same generous reasoning. "I endeavour," says he, in a letter written several years afterwards, " to follow my business, because it is my duty, rather than my interest ; the last is .inseparable from a just discharge of duty ; but I have ever wished to look at the profits in the last place, and this wish has attended me ever since my beginning." In an- other place he remarks, " I wished most fervently, and I endeavour after it still, to do the business that occurred, with all the diligence I could, as a present duty^ and endeavoured to repress every rising idea of its consequences such a circumscribed, unaspiring temper of mind, doing every thing with diligence, humility, and as in the sight of the God of healing, frees the mind from much unavailing distress, and consequential disappointment." These familiar effusions of a spirit which cannot be ac- cused of imbecility or apathy, are the more inte- resting, because few of the distinguished members of the medical profession have bequeathed to us so explicit an avowal of the motives which animated or sustained them in one of the most rugged roads of human travel. In 1748 Fothergill raised his reputation to a great height by his " Account of the Sore Throat attended with Ulcers; a disease which hath of FOTHERG1LL. 187 late years appeared in this city, and in several parts of the nation." A disorder of this kind had lately caused much havoc, and not least among the higher orders of society. Two nephews of the Duke of Newcastle had fallen victims to it, and its progress excited great alarm. Here Fothergill found an opportunity for bringing his penetration to hear on a topic of new and imme- diate interest, and he availed himself to the ut- most of the favourable moment. He had observed that the methods of cure usually resorted to, such as bleeding, purging, and the medicines daily employed to remove inflammations, in ge- neral produced an injurious effect in this epi- demic. It was confounded in ordinary practice with the common sore throat, or inflammation of the tonsils. Our author carefully distin- guished the variety in the nature of the complaint, and in the progress of the symptoms, which were here usually of the typhoid kind, and pre- sented a disposition to gangrene in the parts affected. His practice was temperate, yet not guided by any exclusive views ; even gentle pur- gatives he found injurious, but clysters might be given, in case of constipation. A gentle emetic was often prescribed ; gargles, bark combined with the mineral acids, and various stimulants, formed the basis of the treatment. The Spanish physicians had pursued a somewhat similar plan in the visi- tations which they had experienced of this com- plaint. Fothergill uses the following expressions in summing up this subject : they will afford a specimen of his pathology. "The cause of this tendency (to putrefaction) is a putrid virus, or 188 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. miasma sui generis, introduced into the habit by contagion ; principally by means of the breath of the person affected. This virus, or contagious matter, produces effects more or less pernicious according to the quantity and nature of the infec- tion, and as the subject is disposed to receive or suffer by it. Putrefactive and malignant diseases, in common, admit of the most sensible and secure relief from discharges of the peccant matter, either upon the skin in general, or on particular parts of the body. The redness, and cutaneous efflorescence, in the present case, may be considered as an erup- tion of the like nature, and therefore to be pro- moted by such methods as have proved successful in similar diseases. A cordial, alexipharmic, warm regimen has been found by experience to be of the most use in such cases." Called in on this occasion by many of the first families in the me- tropolis, he improved the opportunity so well that he soon acquired a large income. The generality of medical men usually entertain a particular affection for some one or more branches of their professional studies, and the public has gained considerably by this occasional preference, which, while it does not necessarily diminish the attention of the individual to the ultimate object of his sci- ence, is sometimes the source of discoveries or institutions important to the community at large. Chemistry and botany were the favourite objects of his hours of relaxation or retirement. At Upton, near Stratford in Essex, he purchased an extensive estate, and furnished a noble garden, whose walls enclosed five acres, with a profusion of exotics which he spared no pains in collecting. " At an FOTIIERGILL. J 8U expense seldom undertaken by an individual, and with an ardour that was visible in the whole of his conduct, he procured from all parts of the world a great number of the rarest plants, and protected them in the amplest buildings which this or any other country has seen. He liberally proposed rewards to those whose circumstances and situations in life gave them opportunities of bringing hither plants which might be ornamental, and probably useful to this country, or her colo- nies; and as liberally paid these rewards to all that served him. If the troubles of war had per- mitted, we should have had the Cortex Winter- anus, &c. &c., introduced by his means into this country; and also the Bread-Fruit, Mangasteen, &c,, into the West Indies. For each of these, and many others, he had fixed a proper premium. In conjunction with the Earl of Tankerville, Dr. Pitcairn, and myself, he sent over a person to Africa, who was employed upon the coast of that country, for the purpose of collecting plants and specimens. Those whose gratitude for restored health prompted them to do what was acceptable to their benefactor, were always informed by him, that presents of rare plants chiefly attracted his attention, and would be more acceptable to him than the most generous fees. How many unhappy men, enervated by the effects of hot climates, where their connexions had placed them, found health on their return home at that cheap purchase ! What an infinite number of plants he obtained by these means, the large collection of drawings he left behind will amply testify; and that they were equalled by nothing 190 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. but royal munificence, at this time largely bestowed upon the botanic gardens at Kew. In my opinion, no other garden in Europe, royal or of a subject, had nearly so many scarce and valuable plants. That science might not suffer a loss, when a plant he had cultivated should die, he liberally paid the best artist the country afforded, to draw the new ones as they came to perfection ; and so numerous were they at last, that he found it necessary to employ more artists than one, in order to keep pace with their increase. His garden was known all over Europe, and foreigners of all ranks asked, when they came hither, permission to see it ; of which, Dr. Solander and myself are sufficient wit- nesses, from the many applications that have been made through us for that permission." The account which we have here given is the more honourable to Fothergill, because it comes from the pen of a distinguished individual, who was not merely an excellent judge of horticultural pursuits, but the patron of all that was useful to his country and his age, the late Sir Joseph Banks. A winding canal, in the figure of a crescent, formed this garden into two divisions, and occa- sionally opened on the sight, through branches of rare shrubs, which lined the walks on its sides. In the midst of winter, when the earth was covered with snow, evergreens were here clothed in full verdure. Without exposure to the open air, a glass door, from the mansion-house, gave entrance into a suite of hot and green-house apartments, nearly 260 feet in extent, and containing above 3400 distinct species of exotics, whose foliage formed a beautiful contrast to the shrivelled natives of FOTIIERGILL. 191 colder climes. In the open ground, about 3000 distinct species of plants and shrubs bloomed on the return of summer. Such displays were not in him the effect of ostentation ; he had always in view the enlarge- ment and elevation of his own mind, and the pros- pect of multiplying the enjoyments of his fellow- beings. He formed a useful exchange of the productions of the earth. From America he re- ceived various species of catalpas, kalmias, mag- nolias, firs, oaks, maples, and other valuable productions, which became inhabitants of his own soil, and some of which were capable of being applied to the most useful purposes of timber; and he transported, in return, the green and bohea teas from his garden at Upton, to the southern part of that continent. He endeavoured to im- prove the growth and quality of coffee in the West Indian Islands; and procured from China the bamboo cane, with a view of naturalizing it in our intertropical possessions. He made many efforts to introduce the cinnamon-tree into the West In- dian colonies. He attempted to procure the tree which affords the Peruvian bark, and is said to have, at length, so far succeeded, as to have had one plant in his garden. To two captains of ships he offered each a reward of one hundred pounds for a plant in vegetation of the true Winter's bark (Winterana aromatica). But his attention was not confined to the vegetable kingdom. Da Costa is indebted to him for many valuable remarks in- serted in his History of Shells, of which Fother- gill possessed the best cabinet in England, next to that of the Duchess of Portland. His collection 192 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. of minerals was more rare than extensive ; and the gratitude of his numerous friends had supplied him with many curious specimens of the animal world. He afforded employment to many artists, in directing the delineation of various productions of Nature, which were too bulky to transport, or too perishable to preserve : twelve hundred of such drawings are said to have been in his possession, and were purchased, at his death, for the Empress of Russia, at the price of 2,300/. His collection of natural history was purchased, on his decease, by the eminent Dr. William Hunter, and is, pro- bably, at this moment, to be found, in part, in the museum which that distinguished physician bequeathed to the University of Glasgow, after having vainly solicited the Ministers of the time to enable him to establish one in London. He maintained a frequent correspondence with North America, where his father and brother had spent many years in the service of religion. Se- veral families are said to have even crossed the Atlantic, with a view of placing themselves under his care. He earnestly laboured to promote the improvement of rural economy and of commerce in that part of the world. In conjunction with his friend, Peter Collinson (a name upon which we should be glad to dwell more at length), he encou- raged the cultivation of the vine there ; and still more usefully strove, with others, to abolish the slave trade among his own brethren an object which they at length had the happiness to accom- plish. Charity was the predominant feature in Fother- gill's character ; that beautiful quality which many FOTHERGILL. 193 find so difficult to imitate, and which, in most minds, is a flower the slowest to blossom, and the earliest to decay. Few names on the record of biography will bear comparison with him in this respect. We do not know whether this noble characteristic was in him the result more of an ori- ginal tenderness of disposition, or of self-discipline and principle ; it seems probable that the study of our Divine Revelation had opened this plenteous fountain of beneficence in a mind not naturally of an enthusiastic temperament. When, during the summer, he retired to Lea-Hall, in Cheshire, he devoted one day in every week to attendance at Middlewich, the nearest market-town, and gave his gratuitous advice to the poor. He assisted the clergy, not merely with his advice, but on nu- merous occasions with his purse : on one occasion he was reproved by a friend for his refusal of a fee from a person who had attained a high rank in the church : " I had rather" (replied the doctor) " return the fee of a gentleman with whose rank I am not perfectly acquainted, than run the risk of taking it from a man who ought, perhaps, to be the object of my bounty." When he paid his last visit to patients in decayed circumstances, it was not unusual with him, under the appearance of feeling the pulse, to slip into their hand a sum of money, or a bank-note ; in one instance, this mode of do- nation is said to have conveyed one hundred and fifty pounds. To the modest or proud poverty which shuns the light of observation, he was the delicate and zealous visitor ; in order to preclude the necessity of acknowledgment, which is often painful in such minds, he would endeavour to in- VOL. i. o 194 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. rent some motive for his bounty, and hence afford to the receiver the pretensions of a claim, [while the liberal donor appeared to be only discharging a debt. Rarely was any subscription commenced on whose list the name of Fothergill did not stand foremost. When the success of our arms had filled our prisons with foreign captives, he was appointed member of a committee which super- intended the sums raised for their relief; and it should be stated, to the honour of his community, that above one-fourth of the whole subscription was contributed by the Quakers, who then scarcely formed the two-hundredth part of the nation. To Dr. Knight, a literary man, whose character was deservedly esteemed, but who, by some specula- tions in mining, had become embarrassed in cir- cumstancs, he is supposed to have afforded aid to the amount of a thousand pounds. We shall not pause to calculate the total amount of his bounties, which have been estimated at so high a sum as two hundred thousand pounds ; but it is evident, that his generosity knew no ether limit than his means. In 1763 he was elected a fellow of the Royal Society. His reputation soon extended to other countries ; he was one of the earliest members of the American Philosophical Society, instituted at Philadelphia. Linnaeus distinguished by his name a species of Polyandria Digynia. The Royal Society of Medicine, at Paris, chose him as an associate in 1776; and his letters of admission were the more honourable, because they included a request, that Fothergill would nominate any per- sons of his acquaintance whom he might deem FOTI1ERGILL. ] 95 eligible to become corresponding members of the body. Vicq d'Azyr communicated this mark of confidence in a Latin letter. When the House of Commons was informed of the fatality of the gaol distemper, which had ap- peared among the French and Spanish prisoners confined at AYinchester, an application was made to him for his opinion, and he recommended Dr. Carmichael Smith as medical superintendent of the prison. A singular success attended the efforts of that accomplished physician, which reflected honour on both parties. Far from confining his investigations to his own profession, or to natural history, his mind em- braced, with great activity, every scheme connected with public improvement. Internal commerce, police, the economy of prisons, all occupied his attention, as the occasions arose for their improve- ment : he directed his thoughts at one time to the establishment of public baths and of public ceme- teries, the latter of which admit, at this moment, of much improvement, and in their present condition, in London, are equally offensive to the eye, as they are probably injurious to the health, of the inhabit- ants. He was very instrumental in establishing an excellent seminary for the children of Quakers not in affluent circumstances, at Ackworth. The disputes between the mother country and the American colonies engrossed him very earnestly : he engaged actively in various attempts to promote concord ; and appears to have been employed, to a certain extent, in political negociation. Frank- lin, with whom he treated on this subject, declare?, that he doubts whether any man has ever existed o2 196 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. more worthy than Fothergill of universal vene- ration. Perhaps we might have spoken more largely of his literary essays, which were numerous ; in re- cording the generality of men, these would occupy us more fully, hut in the life of Fothergill they form only a secondary consideration. The fame of authorship, and the accomplishments of the man of science, are consumed in the blaze of that exalted virtue which was not contented merely to discharge with indifference the decencies of life, nor even honourably to fulfil its duties, but sought, in every period of its career, to improve the condition of mankind, to befriend the weak, and to feed the hungry, and literally considered the fruits of its own labour as a treasure invested for the benefit of others. In December, 1780, he experienced a second attack of suppression of urine ; two years previ- ously it had been relieved, but no art could now remove it. The pain was very acute, his thirst was insatiable, but his mind was as serene as in its best days ; he endeavoured even to assume the cheerfulness which was natural to him when in health. He expressed to a friend his hope " that he had not lived in vain, but in a degree to answer the end of his creation, by sacrificing interested considerations, and his own ease, to the good of his fellow-creatures." In a fortnight he breathed his last. More than seventy carriages followed his remains to the grave, not filled with the care- less attendants on the great, who mourn in order to be visible, but with individuals whom he had con- tributed to render happy. FOTHERG1LL. 197 Dr. Ilird has drawn, from affectionate intimacy, a personal sketch of this great man, which our readers will view with the gratification Avhich attends a visit to the private apartment of the illustrious. The person of Dr. Fothergill was of a delicate rather of an extenuated make ; his features were all character; his eye had a pecu- liar brilliancy of expression, yet it was not easy so to mark the leading trait as to disengage it from the united whole. He was remarkably active and alert, and, with a few exceptions, enjoyed a ge- neral good state of health. He had a peculiarity of address and manner, resulting from person, education, and principle ; but it was so perfectly accompanied by the most engaging attentions, that he was the genuine polite man, above all forms of breeding. At his meals he was remarkably tem- perate ; in the opinion of some, rather too abste- mious, eating sparingly, but with a good relish, and rarely exceeding two glasses of wine at dinner or supper: yet, by this uniform and steady tem- perance,^ he preserved his mind vigorous and active, and his constitution equal to all his en- gagements. Not satisfied with the acts of generosity which he had multiplied during his lifetime, he directed in his will that the presents which had been made to him should be restored to their donors. 198 HEBERDEN. IT is impossible to view the countenance of this excellent man, as delineated in his portraits, with- out an immediate respect, and even affection, to- wards his memory. The tranquillity of mind, the gentle benevolence, and the unaffected modesty which beam on every feature, represent with truth the amiable and unblemished ornament of the domestic circle ; while the air of discernment and reflection which pervades the whole, announces with equal justice the genius for observation, and the power of combining its results. The life of such an individual, pursued into its minuter de- tails, would have been equally interesting to the world at large, and instructive to the student of his own profession. Unfortunately, few materials exist to render due account of an individual who, after being placed in collision with the vices and follies of a metropolis during nearly half a century, appears to have retired to the grave without hav- ing contracted on his way a single particle of cor- ruption, rich in the accumulated wisdom of age, and still richer in all the innocence of youth. William Heberden was born in London in the year 1710. He was sent at a very early age, near the end of 1724, to St. John's College, Cambridge. He took his first degree in 1728, and became M. D. in 1739. He remained at Cambridge IIEUERDEN. 199 about ten years longer as a practitioner of physic, and gave an annual course of lectures on the Ma- teria Medica. In 1746 he became a fellow of the Royal College of Physicians in London, and two years afterwards he left Cambridge, having pre- sented to St. John's College the specimens which had been employed in his lectures. He also added to this donation, a few years afterwards, a collection of astronomical instruments of some value. He now established himself in London, was elected a fellow of the Royal Society in J 769, and was employed in a very extensive medical practice during more than thirty years. When he became sensible that his age required indulgence, he passed the summer at a house which he had pur- chased at Windsor ; but he continued his practice in the winter for some years longer. In January, 1760, he married Mary, daughter of W. Wool- laston, Esq., by whom he had five sons and three daughters ; but he survived them all, except the present Dr. William Heberden,* and Mary, married to the Rev. G. Jenyns. In 1778 he was made an honorary member of the Royal Society of Medicine at Paris. Dr. Heberden's first publi- cation seems to have been a short essay on the incongruous composition of the Mithridate and Theriaca, entitled Antitheriaca, 8vo. 1 745. 2. He sent to the Royal Society an Account of a rery large human Calculus, weighing more than two pounds and a quarter avoirdupois, Phil. Trans. XLV-I., 1750, p. 596. 3. Account of the effect of Lightning at Southwald in Essex, Ph. Trans. LI V., * Well known as the author of very valuable Observations on the Increase and Decrease of different Diseases. 4to. Lond. 1801. 200 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 1764, p. 198. Both these essays are erroneously attributed, in Dr. Maty's index, to his brother, Dr. Thomas Heberden, of Madeira, who sent several other papers to the Society. Dr. Heberden was one of the principal contributors to the first three vo- lumes of the Medical Transactions, a work which was published, in a great measure, at his sugges- tion, by the College of Physicians, and in which we find several of his original communications. 4. Remarks on the Pump-water of London, I., 1768, p. 1. 5. Observations on Ascarides, pp. 45, 54. 6. On Night Blindness, or Nyctalopia, p. 60. 7. On the Chicken-pox, p. 427. 8. On the Epidemical Cold of 1767, p. 437. 9. Queries, p. 499, relating to Bark, Camphor, Cold, the Gout, and Apoplexy. 10. On Hectic Fever, II., 1772, p. 1. 11. On the Pulse, p. 18. 12. On a Disorder of the Breast, p. 59 (the Angina Pec- toris). 13. On Diseases of the Liver, p. 123. 14. On the Nettle Rash, 173. 15. On Noxious Fungi, p. 216. 16. Queries, p. 449, on Sizy Blood, on Hernia, on Damp Clothes, and on Ve- nesection in Haemorrhages. 17- On an Angina Pectoris, III., 1785, p. 1. 18. On the Ginseng, p. 34. 19. On the Measles, p. 389. 20. Table of the Mean Heat of the different Months in London, Phil. Trans. LXXVIIL, 1778, p. 86. The most important of his works, and one which will extend his reputation to a very distant pos- terity, is the Commentarii de Morlorum Historia et Ciuratione. 8vo. Lond. 1802. This very re- markable book appeared both in Latin and English. He had long been in the habit of making notes in a pocket-book at the bedside of his patients ; HEBERDEN. 201 and every month he used to select and copy out under the proper titles of the diseases, whatever he thought particularly worthy to be recorded. In the year 1782 he employed himself in digesting this register into the form of a volume of Com- mentaries on the History and Cure of Diseases, with a particular resolution never to depend on his memory for any material circumstance that he did not find expressly written down in his notes. These commentaries were entrusted to the care of his son, Dr. W. Heberden, to be published after his death. We find in them a greater mass of valuable matter, accurately observed and candidly related, than in almost any other volume that has ever appeared upon a medical subject. It has been remarked, that the more experience a physician acquires in his profession, the more he is in general inclined to approach to the opinions of Heberden, and the more he is compelled to esteem his writings. He possessed a singular combination of modesty and of dignity of character. He was not only a well- informed and accomplished scholar, but a man of the purest integrity of conduct, of mild and cour- teous manners, distinguished by genuine piety and by unaffected benevolence of heart. He bought a sceptical work, left in manuscript by Dr. Conyers Middleton, of his widow, in order to destroy it.* He was at the expense of publishing another work of the same author, on the Servile Condition of Physicians among the Ancients, as well as an edi- * Having discovered that a publisher would give 1501. for the work, he presented 2QQI. to the widow, and committed it to the flames. 202 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. tion of some of the plays of Euripides, by Mark- land. He had an opportunity of rendering an essential service to Dr. Letherland, a man of deep and very extensive learning, but of retired habits, and very little known even in his own profession, although he contributed, by his literary information, to the popularity of more than one of his colleagues. Dr. Heberden's extensive practice made it incon- venient for him to accept the appointment of physi- cian to the queen ; and the king, who had always shown towards him the greatest esteem and regard, readily adopted his disinterested recommendation of Dr. Letherland as his substitute in the situation. He died on the 17th of May, 1801, at the age of above 90 years, having exhibited, at the close of his life, the same serenity of mind which he had enjoyed through its course, and the same earnest faith in the Christian Revelation which had formed alike the rule and the happiness of his existence. The most important addition which a superior understanding can, at present, contribute to the stock of medical knowledge, is not so much no- velty as truth. New things have been presented to us, in rapid succession, during many centuries ; and the most urgent want of the science is to establish what is true, and to separate the genuine from the suspicious. There is much force in the fre- quent remark of Cullen, that there are more false facts in medicine than false theories. Heberden perceived this state of things, and has supplied towards its relief all that a single mind could hope to accomplish. He is one of the few medical writers who may deservedly claim the title of eclectic; he had no favourite doctrines to main- IIEBKRDEX. 203 tain, no prejudices to gratify, and was solely animated by the desire of recording, with fidelity, that which he had seen and done. So many me- dical authorities have been ambitious of founding a sect ; so many writers have been merely stimulated by the desire of acquiring immediate practice and have discussed with passion the most serious topics, that it is gratifying to be always able to find in the pages of Heberden a scrupulous and unvarnished narrative of the symptoms of disease, and of the effects of remedies, such as they pre- sented themselves to a calm and deliberate intel- lect, during a length, and extent, and variety of opportunity rarely enjoyed by any practitioner of any age or country. The impartial Soemmering considered the Com- mentaries of such value, that he has reprinted them, in Germany, with a preface, in which he styles their author the Medicus vere Hippocra- ticus. Professor Friedlaender, of Halle, has published an edition at Leipsic, as a portion of the Latin Medical Classics. 204 CULLEN. WILLIAM CULLEN was born in 1712, in Lanark- shire ; his parents were in humble circumstances. After serving an apprenticeship to a surgeon- apothecary, in Glasgow, he became surgeon to a merchant-vessel, trading between London and the West Indies. He soon, however, returned to his own district, and practised among the rustic inhabi- tants of the parish of Shotts a region proverbial, even in Scotland, for bleakness and poverty. Here an accident occurred, which probably gave a colour to his future fortune. The Duke of Argyle'made a visit to a gentleman in the neighbourhood, and was amusing himself with some chemical investiga- tions which required apparatus not in his posses- sion : his host recollected young Cullen , as a person likely to supply the deficiency ; and Cullen was accordingly invited to dinner, introduced to the duke, and installed in his good opinion. He soon removed to Hamilton, and (as it appears by the register of the town-council of that place) was admitted a counsellor in 1737- During 1739 and 1740 he was chief magistrate of the burgh. Here he was a general practitioner, and was sur- rounded by apprentices in his pharmacy. A con- nexion in business was formed between him and another young man, afterwards destined to nearly equal celebrity : William Hunter was a native of the same part of the country, and these kindred CULLEN. 205 minds entered into a partnership. Their principal ambition, at this time, was to procure the means of improving their medical education and grade ; and in order, mutually, to further this honourable object, it was stipulated, that one of them should be alternately allowed to study, during the winter, in some medical school, while the other should continue to carry on the business in the country, for the profit of both parties. Cullen took the first turn, and passed his winter at Edinburgh. William Hunter chose London for his place of study, when his season arrived, and the selection was propitious to his future progress, since he soon recommended himself, in that metropolis, to Dr. Douglas, a lec- turer on anatomy and obstetrics, who engaged him as an assistant. Thus ensued a premature dissolu- tion of partnership : Cullen was not the man Avho could throw obstacles in the road to his friend's advancement; he readily cancelled the articles, and they maintained ever after a cordial communication by letters, although the accidents of life seem never more to have granted them a personal interview. How full of interest would such a meeting, in after life, have proved to two such individuals, who had parted in poverty and obscurity, and who would have greeted each other again at the head of their respective professions, and in the meridian of for- tune and of fame. During this period of country practice, Cullen formed a union of a more permanent nature, which, happily for him, was not dissolved until very late in his life. Early in his career he had formed a strong attachment to Miss Johnston, the amiable daughter of a neighbouring clergyman. 206 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. This lady was a real prize to him ; she possessed beauty, good sense and temper, an amiable dispo- sition, elegant manners, and even a little fortune, which, however diminutive in modern calculation, was important in his actual position. She married him when he had no worldly advantages to recom- mend his suit, presented him with a numerous family, and enjoyed the gratification of sharing his dignified prosperity until 1786, when she peacefully expired. The Duke of Hamilton being taken suddenly ill at the palace which bears the same name, was induced, by the character which he had heard of Cullen, to apply for his aid. Cullen not only be- nefited him by his skill, but attracted him by his conversation. To profit by the accidents, which common men neglect, is the true secret of success. The interest of this nobleman appears to have procured him the situation of lecturer on chem- istry in the University of Glasgow. He had pre- viously taken his doctor's degree and began his course, in 1746. Here we perceive the versatility of his powers and his excellent judgment: he eclipsed the former professors, was the idol of his pupils, and for the first time, probably, in his life became an object of envy. His singular talent for arrangement, his distinct enunciation, his vivacity of manners, and thorough acquaintance with his science, rendered his lectures interesting in a degree which appears to have been until then unknown in Glasgow. His medical practice daily increased; and, when a vacancy occurred in 17^1, he was appointed by the king to the professorship of medicine. CULLEX, 207 The patrons of the university of Edinburgh were very anxious to strengthen their seminary, and directed their attention to the rising fame of Cullen. Dr. Plummer, tlieir professor of chemistry, soon left a vacancy, which Cullen was invited to fill. He resigned all his employments in Glasgow, and repaired, in 1756, to the city which was to become the scene of his distinction, from which he finally sent forth admiring pupils to all parts of the world, and which he really enriched and bene- fited by the halo which he flung around the me- dical school during his brilliant career. The emi- nence of a university depends, more than is gene- rally imagined, on the attraction of one or two great names, which exert a magnetic influence : no expense can be misplaced by the- governors of a university in drawing such rare individuals to their bosom. Chemistry had been rather neglected at Edinburgh, but Cullen restored it to its rights, and even created a tide in its favour : chemistry now brought a more numerous assemblage to its hall, than any other science, excepting anatomy. Many students spoke of Cullen with a sort of enthu- siasm ; this produced a reaction and an opposition party, which endeavoured to misrepresent his doc- trines. Cullen's reputation only became more clear through this fermentation. He proceeded steadily and tranquilly in the path of instruction, and opened a large field of private practice, which his frank and engaging manners, his kindness and his disinterestedness, enabled him to cultivate with growing success. He became the friend of his patients ; they could neither dispense with his attendance nor with his intimacy. 208 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. While professor of chemistry, he also for seve- ral years delivered clinical lectures at the royal infirmary. Alston, who was professor of Materia Medica, and who has left a large work on that branch of study, died in 1763, and Cullen suc- ceeded him ; and though now in the middle of his chemical course, persevered at the same time with his new topic, and commenced it only a few days after his new nomination. Eight or ten pupils alone had entered under Alston, but Cullen at- tracted above one hundred. An imperfect copy of these hasty lectures was published by one of the hearers, and Cullen thought it necessary, in the latter part of his life, to give them to the public in a more correct and mature form : they accordingly appeared in two quarto volumes, and embraced also the important doctrines of general therapeutics, a part of the theory of medicine which has in the present age incurred unmerited neglect. On the death of Dr. White, Cullen rose another step, and delivered the theory of medicine, ceding his chemical chair to Black, his former pupil. Ruther- ford * next disappeared from the chair of practical medicine : Gregory became a rival candidate Avith Cullen, and it was arranged that these accom- plished competitors should alternately lecture on the theory and on the practice of medicine. Their talents were of a dissimilar kind, and the students amply profited by the variety and emulation exhi- bited without any injury to friendship. After co- operating most happily for the benefit of all parties, Gregory was suddenly cut off in the prime of life, and Cullen continued to occupy the practical pro- * Grandfather to Sir Walter Scott. CULLEN. 209 fessorship until a few months before his death, which spared him to his seventy-seventh year, in 1790. To the last he was great, but that ardour and energy which had strongly characterized him at a former period, gradually declined ; his viva- city was, however, still such as might in general belong to an individual in the mid-day of exist- ence. Some have perceived traces of senility in his treatise on the Materia Medica, but Cullen even then retained powers which many would gladly acknowledge as their own in their brightest days. His appearance was striking, and not unpleas- ing; his countenance was expressive, his eye lively and penetrating. His person was tall and thin ; to the stranger who passed him he appeared a contemplative man. In his lectures he never attempted to read ; they were delivered almost ex- temporaneously, and the same plan seems to have been followed by Monro and Black. Of all the Edinburgh professors of that period, the lettered Blair was the only one who could not trust his eye one moment from the manuscript. A few short notes sufficed to preserve a certain order with Cullen, and an ease, a force, and a variety were thus imparted to his matter and his style, which few have rivalled, and still fewer can hope to emu- late under similar circumstances. His particular illustrations were always new, suited to the oc- casions of the moment, and were produced in an artless, bold elocution, which captivated every listener. Alibert bears testimony to the impression which he created on the foreign students, who flocked unprejudiced volunteers to his standard, VOL. i. p 210' BRITISH PHYSICIANS. and who preserved indelible recollection of his power to convince and to awaken. His arrangement was clear to the dullest capacity. The spirit of his discourse was always in unison with the tone of voice and the expression of countenance inspired by the particular mood which governed him on the day. If he were joyous, all the figures introduced for illustration abounded with mirth and good hu- mour; if he were grave, the objects placed in view were of a more sombre hue, and on a grander scale ; and if he were peevish, (which we may easily believe to have been his least accustomed frame,) a peculiar tone of thought, word, and action, ex- cited a new train of ideas in his auditory. The languor of a nerveless uniformity was never experienced. He did not so much strive to imbue the student with particular details, as to present him with a general view of the whole subject, to show what had been already attained, to point out what remained to be discovered, and to place him on the road which seemed to conduct to a solution of difficulties. A rapid outline was first drawn, in which the whole figure started boldly at once from the canvas, distinct in all its parts, and unmixed with any other object ; presently he be- gan to trace the picture anew, to strengthen the features, to sketch the distance, and to complete the whole in as perfect a manner as the state of his science would permit. His conduct towards his pupils was exemplary. With those who appeared diligent he formed an early acquaintance, inviting them to supper in very small parties, and freely discussing with them, at such opportunities, their doubts, their wishes, and CULLEN. 21 1 their prospects. With the most assiduous he gra- dually formed an intimacy, which often proved highly beneficial to their private interests. His ex- cellent library was at all times open to their use ; he kept up a correspondence with them on their departure from the university, and was often instru- mental in establishing them in desirable situations. His benevolent mind doubtless often looked back on the struggles of his early days, and sympathy with those who had to encounter similar privations often opened his purse to straitened merit. To seek out the obscure, to invite the humble, was his parti- cular pleasure ; he behaved to such rather as if he courted their society, than as if they could be bet- tered by his patronage. He often found out some polite excuse for refusing to take payment for his lectures, and steadily refused to accept a fee from any student ; a custom which, we believe, has be- come naturalized at Edinburgh from the date of Cullen. Hoffman and Baglivi had restored to the solids that direct and essential influence upon the healthy and morbid states of the system which the humoral pathologists had assigned to the fluids. They had endeavoured to demonstrate that the changes which occur in the condition of the fluids are merely the consequences and necessary effects of the changes- which the solids undergo. The operations of life, in short, and all its revolutions, were thus accomplished in the solid parts of the system, which Hoffmann designated, in consonance with his doctrine, as the Solidum Fivens. The Solidists are distin- guished from the old Methodic sect, in acknow- ledging, with Hippocrates, the existence of a vital p 2 212 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. principle, the laws of which can be known only from the observation of the phenomena peculiar to living bodies ; and these phenomena themselves, according to the solidists, result from the agency of this principle upon the fibres, among which nature is supposed to have distributed it, for the purpose of animating them all with a certain portion of energy and activity. In this school Cullen ap- pears to have formed himself. He considers the human body as a combination of animated organs, regulated by the laws, not of inanimate matter, but of life, and superintended by an immaterial prin- ciple, acting wisely, but necessarily, for the gene- ral health, correcting deviations, and supplying deficiencies, not from a knowledge and a choice of the means, but through a pre-established relation between the changes produced, and the motions required for the restoration of health. This prin- ciple, in its various ramifications, governed every part of his theory of medicine. The action or the torpor of the extreme arteries chiefly influenced the motions which the living principle regulated. From the dictates of Boerhaave no appeal had hitherto been made ; this innovation was, as usual, hailed by the young with admiration, and regarded by the advanced with distrust or dislike. The sys- tem of Cullen is combined with so much judgment that it fills the mind as one whole ; nothing seems wanting, and nothing redundant. He has amply succeeded, at all events, in accomplishing that which he professed to be his principal aim, the improvement of the judgment : this should be the principal aim of every method of teaching ; and w'hen the judgment is once matured, the student CULLEN. 213 may be safely allowed to pursue alone the eclectic path, unfettered by any of those exclusive and domineering guides, who literally represent the blind conducting the blind. Cullen was in the habit of repeating, " there must l>e a tub to amuse the whale" and the history of medicine, in every age and country, amply confirms his application of the adage. His doctrine, modified by Brown and Pinel, has made the tour of Europe, but few of his imitators or detractors have imitated the sagacity which he displayed in searching out the indications of cure, and the enlightened scepticism with which he examined the chaos of materia medica. His Physiology was a little work of much merit in reference to the period of its publication ; it was translated into French, German, and Latin. His First Lines of the Practice of Physic appeared in 1784. Pinel and Bosquillon published rival translations at Paris, where the work has been re- edited so recently as 1819. It has also appeared in a German, Italian, and Latin form. His Nosology will probably survive all his other works ; it is indisputably the best system which has yet appeared, and can only be appreciated by a com- parison with its predecessors and its posterity. His Materia Medica, though a bulky work, was speedily transplanted to France, Germany, and Italy. He has also left a tract on the recovery of persons drowned, and seemingly dead. Dr. Thom- son, of Edinburgh, has recently combined with the previously printed works of Cullen, several valuable additions from his manuscripts. A valu- able edition of the First Lines has lately appeared at Edinburgh, to which Dr. *William Cullen (a 214 BRITISH PnVSICIANS. relation of the author) and Dr. J. C. Gregory hare added, in the form of an appendix, such notes and illustrations as may afford to students an idea of the additions made to the science of medicine since the period of the original publication. Intimately connected with the memory of Cullen is the history of the system of Brown, which acquired a more rapid popularity than any which has been yet propounded, and which, in some parts of Europe, is scarcely yet extinct. This unfor- tunate man of genius was originally a teacher of Latin at Edinburgh, and a translator of theses into that language. About the middle of life he obtained permission to attend the medical classes gratuitously, and thus commenced the study of the profession with a mind previously tinged with the technical language of the science. He in- structed the children of Cullen in Latin, and an intimacy arose between them. Brown attached himself warmly to Cullen and to his doctrines ; he even looked forward to the prospect of obtaining a future maintenance in London by repeating Cullen's lectures after his death. Some disagree- ment occurred ; Brown was a man of impetuous character, and of imprudent habits, and he imme- diately became the virulent antagonist of his patron. If Cullen had never taught, the system of Brown would have never been moulded, and Cullen was wounded by some of the arrows which he had himself pointed. Brown appears to have had no acquaintance with the bedside of the sick, and his medical erudition was very limited. He commenced a course of opposition lectures, which CULLE.V. 215 he continued through various difficulties, and under singular circumstances, which we should feel no pleasure in detailing. The doctrines of Cullen had previously triumphed over Boerhaave at the Me- dical Society of Edinburgh, but they now received a shock from the new pretender, who found many youthful admirers at home, and abroad an army of partisans. The simplicity and plausibility of his theory were very attractive ; and the ease with which it was learned and practised flattered the indolent and the routinist. In these respects it re- sembled the progress of the views which Broussais has been lately disseminating in France with nearly equal success. To understand and to prac- tise both required little previous knowledge of any subject ; a single lecture unfolds both. Brown divided all diseases into two groups, or families : the one was sthenic, the other asthenic ; the former was produced by accumulated excitability, and Avas characterized by direct debility ; the latter was induced by exhausted excitability, and was characterized by indirect debility. His thera- peutics was as simple as his nosology; the stbenic diseases are to be cured by bleeding, purging, and a low diet, while the asthenic ailments demand stimulating substances of various quality and force. The ramifications and dependencies of medical theories are most curious to trace. Cullen seems to have built his structure on the foundation which Hoffmann and others had laid ; Brown availed himself of the nervous energy of Cullen, and con- verted it into excitability ; Darwin, in some parts of his Zoonomia, uses nearly the language of Brown, although his practice is distinct ; and the 216 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. contra- stimulant school has recently arisen in Italy composed from the ruins of Brown, by the labour of Rasori and Tommasini. But that which is solid in medicine never excites enthusiasm on its first announcement, and some of the warmest admirers of Brunonianism have survived to recant their allegiance. 217 HUNTER (WILLIAM). THE general employment of male practitioners in the treatment of pregnancy appears to have been accompanied, in our own country at least, by a diminution in the mortality of women at that most important crisis, and is hence a subject of congratulation. It is not that females are unfit for the task, but that they are not in the habit, with us, of receiving a professional education suitable to overcome the difficulties which occa- sionally present themselves; and that ignorance and prejudice are far more dangerous than a total abandonment to nature. In some countries, on the other hand, the midwife is excellently trained in her art ; at Vienna, at Florence, at Paris, and in some other cities, the most ample opportunities are afforded for her instruction ; and few accoucheurs will probably be more successful than midwives so well initiated as Madame Boivin, and others of her description. Astruc could find no earlier instance of the use of men-midwives than at the confinement of Ma- dame de la Yaliere in 1663. She was anxious for concealment, and called in Julian Clement, an eminent surgeon of the time. He was secretly conducted into the house, where she lay covering her face with a hood, and where the king is said to have been hidden behind the curtains. He 218 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. attended her subsequent labours, and his success brought this new profession into vogue, and the fashion was gradually transplanted into other countries. Mawbray seems to have been the first teacher of obstetrics in London. He was lecturing in 1725, and established a lying-in hospital, to which students were admitted. The Chamberlains fol- lowed him a family which professed to possess a better method of treating difficult labours than was known to others, and maintained a sort of mys- tery as to their instruments. This pretension was imitated by others. Smellie gave a new dignity to the subject by his talents and his lessons ; al- though he is accused by a rival of advertising to teach the whole science in four lectures, and of hanging out a paper lantern, inscribed with the economical invitation, "Midwifery is taught here for Jive shiUingg." William Hunter was born on the 23d of May, 1718, at Kilbride, in the county of Lanark. He was the seventh of the ten children of John and Agnes Hunter, who resided on a small estate in the above parish, called Long Calderwood, which had been long in the possession of the family. The youngest of the family was John, afterwards so celebrated as a surgeon and physiologist. One of the sisters married Dr. Baillie, the professor of divinity in the University of Glasgow, and became the mother of the eminent physician whom we shall afterwards have occasion to record. William Hunter was sent to study at Glasgow at the age of fourteen, and remained there five years, with the reputation of prudence and of good WILLIAM HUNTER. 219 scholarship. He was at this time designed for the church ; but some objections arose, and while uncertain, he encountered Cullen, who was then established in practice at Hamilton. An intimacy was established ; Hunter resolved to embrace the profession of his friend, and resided in the family of Cullen nearly three years years which he has often been heard to call the happiest of his life. But the memory has power to scatter a sunshine over past moments, which did not illumine them when actually present : even the gloomy periods of our existence are sometimes reproduced by re- collection in an attractive form. Medical men often sacrifice a portion of happiness in the pursuit of very extensive practice ; and, when thus swal- lowed up in a vortex which impedes almost every other pleasure except that of seeing money accu- mulate, it is very natural for them to look back with fondness and regret on the obscurer days in which they could find leisure to enjoy existence. Allusion has been made, in the Life of Cullen, to the honourable terms on which a partnership was formed between these two gifted individuals, and to the manner in which it was dissolved. Hunter went to Edinburgh in 1740, and remained until the ensuing spring in attendance on the prin- cipal lectures delivered there. The summer of 1741 brought him to London, where he com- menced his residence under the roof of the eminent Smellie, at that time an apothecary in Pall Mall. He studied anatomy, and dissected under the su- perintendence of Dr. Frank Nicholls, who was the most eminent teacher of anatomy in London at that time, and who had formerly professed the 220 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. science at Oxford. Hunter had brought a letter of introduction to Dr. Douglas, from the printer Foulis, of Glasgow ; this physician was then intent on an anatomical work, which he did not live to complete ; and was looking out for a young man of abilities and industry whom he might employ as a dissector. This circumstance fixed his atten- tion on Hunter, and finally induced him to invite the young stranger into his family, for the double purpose of assisting in dissections, and of direct- ing the education of his son. At this time he was also a surgical pupil at St. George's Hospital. Douglas died in 1742, but Hunter still continued to reside with his family. An essay On the Structure and Diseases of Articulating Cartilages appears to have been the first production of his pen ; it was communicated to the Royal Society in 1743. To teach anatomy was now his favourite plan, but he did not engage prematurely nor rashly in that undertaking; he passed some years more in the silent acquisition of the necessary knowledge, and in the careful formation of a collection of preparations which might assist his lectures. A promising opportunity at length occurred for the exercise of his talents. A society of naval surgeons had engaged Mr. Samuel Sharpe to deliver some courses of instruc- tion on the operations of surgery : that gentleman at length declined the task, and William Hunter stepped into his place. He afforded so much satis- faction, that his hearers soon requested him to extend his lessons to anatomy. His first anatomical course was attempted in 1746. He experienced much anxiety and doubt WILLIAM HUNTER. 221 at the outset, but applause gradually inspired him with confidence, and he at length found the princi- pal happiness of life to consist in the delivery of a lecture. Mr. Watson, one of his earliest pupils, accompanied him home after the trying moment of his introductory discourse. Hunter had just re- ceived seventy guineas from admission-fees, which he carried in a bag under his cloak, and observed to his friend, that it was a larger sum than he had ever before possessed. The early difficulties of eminent men form perhaps the most instructive and animating portion of their biography. Lin- nasus records of himself, Exivi patria trlginti sex nummis aureis dives. The profits of his two first courses were considerable ; but, by contribut- ing to relieve the wants of some of his friends, he found himself, on the approach of the third season, under the necessity of deferring his lectures for a fortnight, merely from the want of money to sup- ply the expense of the usual advertisements. This unpleasant embarrassment operated as a check upon him in the use of money, and probably formed one remote source of the large fortune which he afterwards accumulated. In 1747 he was admitted a member of the Corporation of Surgeons ; and, in the spring of the following year, accompanied his pupil, James Douglas, on a tour through Holland to Paris. At Leyden he visited Albinus, whose admirable injections (as he after- wards informed Dr. Cullen) inspired him with a strong emulation to excel in that curious depart- ment of anatomy. His lectures were not inter- rupted by this journey, which was completed before the winter. 222 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. In the early part of his career he practised both surgery and obstetrics ; but he had always felt an aversion towards the former, and gradually con- fined himself to the latter pursuit. Dr. Douglas, his patron, had acquired reputation in this branch, and Hunter was also successively elected one of the accoucheurs to the Middlesex Hospital (1748), and to the British Lying-in Hospital (174^). Some other favourable circumstances combined to fix him. Smellie, although a man of merit, was uupleasing in his exterior and manners, and was unable to make his way amongst the refined or fastidious. The abilities of Hunter at least equalled those of Smellie, and his person and deportment gave him a decided advantage. Sir Richard Man- ningham, one of the most eminent accoucheurs of the time, died about this period ; and Dr. Sandys, who divided with him the fashion of the day, re- tired into the country a few years after the com- mencement of Hunter's reputation. Sandys had been formerly professor of anatomy at Cambridge ; he was a most assiduous cultivator of that science, and formed a large collection of preparations illus- trative of it ; after his death it fell into the hands of Mr. Bromfield, and was finally sold to Dr. Hunter for two hundred pounds. In 1750 Hunter obtained the degree of Doctor of Medicine from the University of Glasgow, and about the same time quitted the roof of the Douglas family to reside in Jermyn Street. In 1756 he became a licentiate of the College of Physi- cians. When the queen became pregnant in J 762, his advice was solicited ; and he was, two years afterwards, appointed physician extraordinary to WILLIAM HUNTER. 223 her Majesty. His avocations now multiplied themselves so rapidly, that he was obliged to seek an assistant for his lectures ; and, having noticed the ingenuity and industry of William Hewson, he selected him for that office, and subsequently made him a partner in his lectures. This con- nexion subsisted until 1770? when a separation was occasioned by some disputes, and Cruikshank succeeded to the honourable situation. In 1 767, Hunter became a Fellow of the Royal Society : and in 1768, he received an appointment on which he conferred celebrity by the zeal with which he discharged it the professorship of anatomy in the Royal Academy of Arts, which had been re- cently founded by George III. He adapted his anatomical knowledge to the objects of painting and sculpture with remarkable tact; and the origin- ality and justness of his observations in this entirely new career evinced the promptitude and versatility of his talents. On the death of Fothergill he was unanimously elected to preside over the Medical Society. In 1780 the Royal Medical Society of Paris created him one of their foreign associates ; and he soon afterwards obtained a similar distinc- tion from the Royal Academy of Sciences of that city. The Anatomy of the Human Gravid Uterus appeared in 1775 a work distinguished alike by the splendor and the correctness of its deli- neations. Ten of the thirty-four plates which it contains had been completed so early as 1751 ; but the publication was retarded by the anxiety of the author to render his work as perfect as his oppor- tunities would permit. In the preface he candidly 224 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. acknowledges that, in most of the dissections, he had been assisted by his brother, John Hunter. In this work were first delineated the retroversion of the uterus and the membrana decidua reflexa, for the discovery of which we are indebted to the subject of our memoir. The famous engraver, Strange, was an intimate friend of the author, and did two of the plates ; some of the other engravings are also remarkable for elegance of execution. Hunter did not live to publish a work designed to illustrate the engravings, and de- scriptive of the anatomy, of the gravid uterus ; but he left very ample collections towards it, which were edited from his manuscripts, in 1795, by Dr. Baillie, in the form of a thin volume in quarto. Two Introductory Lectures to his Course of Anatomy were also published, from the papers found at his death. He had been employed for some time in col- lecting materials for another important work on the history of the various concretions which are formed in the human body : the portion relative to urinary and biliary concretions appears to have been almost completed. Many beautiful engrav- ings, intended to accompany this book, were finished at the time of his decease. About ten years before his end his health was so much impaired, that, fearing' he might soon become unfit for the profession which he loved, he proposed to recruit himself by a residence in Scot- land, and was on the eve of purchasing a consi- derable estate, when the project was frustrated by a defect in the title-deeds. This trifle banished his rural plans, and he remained in London, con- WILLIAM HUNTER. 225 tinually declining in health, but pursuing distinc- tion with the same ardour with which he had courted it in his earlier days. He rose from a bed of sickness to deliver an introductory lecture on the operations of surgery, in opposition to the earnest remonstrances of his friends. The lecture was accordingly delivered, but it was his last; towards the conclusion his strength was so much exhausted, that he fainted away, and was finally replaced in the chamber which he had been so eager to quit. In a few days he was. no more. Turning to his friend Combe, in his latter moments, he observed, " If I had strength enough to hold a pen, I would write how easy and pleasant a thing it is to die." He expired on the 30th of March, 1783: his brother John occasionally introduced the catheter in this last paralytic seizure. When he began to practise obstetrics, Hunter's ambition was fixed on the acquisition of a fortune sufficient to place him in easy and independent circumstances. Before many years had elapsed, he found himself in possession of a sum adequate to his wishes in this respect ; and this he set apart as a resource of which he might avail himself, whenever age or infirmities should oblige him to retire from business. He confessed to a friend, that he once took a considerable sum from this fund for the purposes of his museum, but that he did not feel himself perfectly at ease till he had re- stored it again. After he had obtained this competency, as his wealth continued to accumulate, hje formed a re- markable and praiseworthy design of engaging in some scheme of public utility, and at first VOL. I. Q 226 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. had it in contemplation to found an anatomical school in this metropolis. For this purpose, about the year 17t>5, during the government of Mr. Grenville, he presented a memorial to that minister, in which he requested the .grant of a piece of ground in the Mews, for the, site of an anatomical theatre. Dr. Hunter undertook to expend seven thousand pounds on the building, and to endow a professorship of anatomy in per- petuity. This scheme did not meet with the recep- tion which it deserved. In a conversation on this subject, soon afterwards, held with the Earl of Shelburue, his Lordship expressed a wish that the plan might be carried into execution by subscrip- tion, and very generously requested to accompany his name with a thousand guineas. Dr. Hunter's delicacy would not allow him to adopt this pro- posal. He chose rather to execute the plan at his own expense, and accordingly purchased a spot of ground in Great Windmill-street, where he erected a spacious house, to which lie removed, from Jermyn-street, in 1770. In this building, besides a handsome amphi- theatre, and other convenient apartments for his lectures and dissections, one magnificent room was, fitted up with great elegance and propriety as a museum. Of the magnitude and value of his collection some idea may be formed, when we consider the great length of years which he employed in making anatomical preparations, and in the dissection of morbid bodies, added to the eagerness with which he procured additions from the museums of Sandys, Falconar, Blackall, and others, which WILLIAM HUNTER. 227 were, at different times, offered for sale in the metropolis. Friends and pupils were constantly augmenting his store with new specimens. On removing to Windmill-street, he began to extend his views to the embellishment of his col- lection, by a magnificent library of Greek and Latin Classics; and formed also a very rare cabinet of ancient medals, which was, at the time, considered as only inferior to that belonging to the King of France.* The coins alone had been purchased at an expense of twenty thousand pounds. Mine- rals, shells, and other objects of natural history, were gradually added to this museum, which be- came an object of curiosity throughout Europe. It now enriches the University of Glasgow ; and the liberal owner bequeathed to that body 8000/. as a fund for the support and augmentation of the whole. William Hunter contributed several Essays to the Philosophical Transactions, and to the Medical Observations and Inquiries, published by the Me- dical Society of London. In one of these, he had the merit of first describing the varicose aneurism. In his work, entitled Medical Commentaries, we find him warmly engaged in controversy, and prin- cipally in a dispute with the eminent Monro, of Edinburgh, respecting his claims to certain disco- veries particularly the origin and use of the lym- phatic vessels. The eagerness of the contending parties in this discussion was very natural, when Nummorum veterum populorum et urbium qui in Museo Gulielmi Hunter asservantur descriptio figuris illustrate. Opera, et studio Caroli Combe. Lond. 1783. 228 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. the interest and honour of the discovery are consi- dered. The title of William Hunter is now gene- rally conceded. It is chiefly to his exertions, and to those of his pupils, Hewson, Shelden, and Cruikshank, combined with those of Mascagni, in Italy, that we are indented for the complete ex- amination and history of that system of vessels. Blumenbach awards this palm to William Hunter, and few will be disposed to contest his decisions on such subjects. William Hunter was regularly shaped, but his frame was slender, and he was rather below the middle stature. He was an early riser ; and when his professional visits were finished, was constantly to be found in his anatomical rooms, or in his museum. In making inquiries of his patients, he had an appearance of attention, which seldom failed to conciliate their confidence. He was dim- dent and candid in consultation with his brethren ; in familiar conversation he was cheerful and un- assuming. In his lectures he was celebrated for the variety and appositeness of the anecdotes with which he enlivened or illustrated the theme : men of the world, artists, and persons of every taste, listened to him with gratification. As an ac- coucheur, he is allowed to have done much to introduce the moderation and caution which now prevail, amongst intelligent practitioners, in the use of instruments : " I am clearly of opinion," says he, in one of his latest publications,* " from all the information which I have been able to pro- * Reflections relative to the Operation of Cutting the Symphysis of the Ossa Pubis. WILLIAM HUNTER. 229 cure, that the forceps (midwifery instruments in feneral, I fear), upon the whole, has done more arm than good." William Hunter sacrificed nothing to pomp : he was indifferent to common objects of vanity but having no family which might inherit the fruits of his toil, he nobly resolved to bequeath them to the public, in a durable and beneficial form. He was not a man of ardent temperament he had in him little of the fire of genius, but he was highly useful in his generation ; and he is one of many proofs of the eminence and importance to which a good understanding, a ready percep- tion, and a retentive memory, may conduct the man who commences life with very few other pos- sessions. When he invited his younger friends to his table, they were seldom regaled with more than two dishes ; when alone, he rarely sat down to more than one : he would say, " A man mho cannot dine on this deserves to have no dinner." After the meal, his servant (who was also the attendant on the anatomical theatre) used to hand round a single glass of wine to each of his guests. These trifles are mentioned as a trait of the old manner of professional life, and as a feature of the man who devoted seventy thousand pounds to create a museum for the benefit of posterity. 230 WARREN. RICHARD WARREN was born on the thirteenth of December, 1731, at Cavendish, in Suffolk, of which place his father, Dr. Richard Warren^ Arch- deacon of Suffolk, was the rector. This divine was conspicuous in his time ; be was one of the antagonists of Bishop Hoadly in the controversy respecting the Eucharist, and edited the Greek Commentary of Hierocles upon the Golden Verses of Pythagoras. Our physician was the third of bis sons : his early education was obtained at the public school of Bury St. Edmund's, In 1748, after the death of his father, he was transferred to Jesus College, Cambridge. "Warren was one of those rare characters, which distinguish them- selves equally during the period of education and in the more trying scenes of mature life. At this moment his means of support were scanty, and the prejudices which then prevailed among certain leading members of the university were not calcu- lated to encourage or smooth the progress of the son of an able Tory. These distinctions of party have now happily disappeared from our univer- sities. Young Warren overcame every difficulty of his position ; his name is the fourth on the list of wranglers in the year of his degree. He obtained two prizes for Latin prose composition in two successive years. On obtaining a fellow- ship of his college, the church was probably sug- WARREN. 231 gested to him as a profession ; his inclination, rather than his finances, directed him to legal pursuits, but one of the little incidents of the place decided his doubts, and started him on a road in which few have enjoyed a more prosperous journey. Dr. Peter Shaw was at this time an eminent physician in London. He was one of the medical attendants upon George the Second, and generally accompanied that sovereign on his excursions to Hanover : to posterity he is better known as the editor of the works of Bacon and of Boyle, and as the author of several publications on medicine and on chemistry. He placed his son at Jesus College, under the care of Warren. The talents of the tutor were not lost upon the father, who finally took a warm interest in his pursuits, in- duced him to commence the study of medicine, and gave him the hand of his daughter Elizabeth, in 1759. His career was equally brilliant and rapid, but his own disposition and attainments were a main ingredient in his success : a hundred indi- viduals might have touched at the same port, and would have remained wind-bound for life : but Warren combined nearly all the qualities which form not merely the popular, but the great phy- sician. The expression of his countenance was at once amiable and acute, his deportment was po- lished and kind, his knowledge was various, his comprehension was remarkably clear and quick, and unfolded itself to the listener in a prompt, accurate, and lively strain, and in language the most fortunately chosen. In 1762 he took his degree of Doctor of Medicine, which requires a much longer term in the English universities than 232 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. elsewhere ; and in the same year was created phy- sician to George the Third, on the resignation of his father-in-law. We are not to suppose that Warren marched straight to his goal without any extraneous aids, but the aids which he obtained were attracted by the excellence of his character. Shaw had introduced him to many valuable friends. Sir Edward Wilmot, the worthy son-in-law of Mead, was one of the physicians to the court, and being inclined to retire from the fatigues of busi- ness, he had previously recommended Warren as physician to the Princess Amelia, the daughter of George the Second. This elevated patient re- quired more than ordinary attention : she was subject to sudden seizures which gave rise to alarm. During two summers the princess visited Tunbridge Wells under his care. In 1787 he was appointed physician to the Prince of Wales. Warren was one of the earliest physicians to the Middlesex Hospital : after remaining a short time in that situation, he was elected to fill the same office at St. George's Hospital, and held it during several years. His eminence is not to be ascribed to mere pa- tronage, nor to singularity of doctrine, nor to the arts of a showy address, nor to any capricious re- volution of fortune's wheel : it was the just and natural attainment of great talents. These talents, indeed, cannot be subjected to the scrutiny of lite- rary criticism, because he was too early engrossed by pressing occupations to find leisure sufficient to commit many of his observations to paper, but the accuracy of his prognosis and his fine sagacity survive in the recollection of a few. His ready WARREN. 233 memory presented to him, on every emergency, the extensive stores of hisj^knowledge, and that solidity of judgment, which regulated their appli- cation to the case before him, would have equally enabled him to outstrip competition in any depart- ment of science and art. He was one among the first of his professional brethren who departed from the formalities which had long rendered me- dicine a favourite theme of ridicule with the wits who happened to enjoy health. He was one of the feAV great characters of his time, whose popu- larity was not the fruit of party favour ; without any sacrifice of independence, he gained the suffrages of men of every class, as well as the more difficult applause of his own fraternity. He enjoyed the friendship of many distinguished men, and among others, of Lord North ; his conversation, indeed, was peculiarly fitted to conciliate every variety of age and of temperament. The cheerfulness of his own nature, and the power which he possessed of infusing it into others, enabled him to exercise over his patients an authority very beneficial to themselves ; and in this respect, as in some others, he has left an instructive example to future pro- fessors of medicine, who perhaps do not always sufficiently seek to inspire the objects of their care with a train of animating thoughts. The chamber of the sick is no enlivening scene to those who enter it, but cheerfulness of manner is not the less agreeable to the sick, because repugnant to the feelings of the attendant ; it is one of the surest modes of acquiring the confidence of a patient, and in some cases operates as a restorative of no mean efficacy. 234 BIUTISII PHYSICIANS. Warren arrived early at the highest practice in this great metropolis, and maintained his supre- macy to the last, with unfading faculties. The amount of revenue sometimes enters into the computation of a medical character, and such anecdotes, perhaps, form a link in the domestic history of the profession. He is said to have realized nine thousand a year, from the time of the regency ; and to have bequeathed to his family above one hundred and fifty thousand pounds. He died, at his house in Dover-street, on the 22d of June, 1797 : his disease was erysipelas of the head, which destroyed him in his sixty-sixth year, at the very time when the most sanguine hopes were entertained of his recovery by Sir George Baker and Pitcairn. His widow, two daughters, and eight sons survived him ; and have erected in Kensington church a just tribute, Viro ingenio, prudentiaque aucto, optimarum artium disci- plinis erudito, wmitatis et beneficentiw laude bonis omnibus commendatissimo. Dr. Turton suc- ceeded him as physician to the king and to the prince of Wales. Two memoirs were inserted by him in the Trans- actions of the College of Physicians ; in the first volume of that collection is one On the Bronchial Polypus, and in the second, a not less interest- ing essay, On the Colica Pictonum. It rarely occurs to a family to witness, in two successive generations, the display of similar abilities, and of success in the same pursuit; but the son, who was educated to his own profession, shares at present the post of honour which his parent had so long occupied. BAILLTE. MATTHEW BAILLTE was born in Scotland, in J761, at the parsonage (or manse) of Shots, in Lanarkshire. His father was the clergyman of that place, and hecame afterwards professor of divinity in the University of Glasgow. His mother was the sister of two men whose names will not be soon forgotten, Dr. William Hunter, and John Hunter the surgeon, whom it is almost super- fluous to record as the founder of the museum which has signalized his name in every land where science is cultivated; nor, in the enumeration of his celebrated relations, will it ever be omitted that he himself was the brother of Joanna Baillie, the great poetess of The Passions. After passing through the school of Hamilton, where his industry and talent were early disclosed, he entered the University of Glasgow. He ap- pears to have devoted himself, during three years, to the study of languages, of mathematics, and of general philosophy; a mode of education, which experience as well as theory indicate as the best preparation to any pursuit which may afterwards be destined to become the principal object of life. Baillie loved to retrace, in later days, his early companions of the Glasgow classes, and eagerly treasured the good fortune that befell many of 236 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. them, but in which he probably outstripped them all. His first choice of a profession seems to have been in favour of the Church, but the emi- nence of his maternal uncle, "William Hunter, decided him to embrace the more anxious pursuit of medicine. In the mean time, he obtained one of the Scotch exhibitions at Balliol College, Ox- ford, where be resided to complete his general education, while his vacations were also advan- tageously passed under the roof of his uncle, in London. Under auspices so favourable, he soon became a proficient in anatomy, and commenced as a demonstrator, in the anatomical school of his uncle, only two years after entering upon the study of that science. For the progress he had so rapidly made he was greatly indebted to the assi- duous instruction of his kind preceptor, who spared no pains in cultivating in his young pupil that habit of ready and exact explanation of every subject he treated, for which Baillie was in after life so remarkable. The manner he adopted, it is related, was as follows : " Matthew, do you know anything of to-day's lecture?" demanded Dr. Hunter of his nephew. " Yes, sir, I hope I do." " Well then, demonstrate to me." " I will go and fetch the preparation, sir." " Oh no, Matthew, if you know the subject really, you will know it whether the preparation be absent or present." After this short dialogue, Dr. Hunter would stand with his back to the fire, while the young Baillie demonstrated the subject of the lecture which had just been delivered ; and then the student was en- couraged by approbation and assistance, or imme- diately upon the spot convicted of having carried BAILLIE. 237 away with him nothing but loose and inaccurate information. At the end of another year, his uncle died, and bequeathed to him the use of the museum (which is now an ornament to the University of Glasgow), his theatre and house in Windmill- street, and also a small family estate in Scotland. The last of these legacies Baillie nobly yielded to his uncle, John Hunter, from a consideration that he was the natural heir. William Hunter also left him about one hundred pounds a year ; and devoted the remainder of his fortune to the sup- port of his museum, to the erection of a building for its reception at Glasgow, and to an annuity to two surviving sisters. The example and precepts of so distinguished a relative as William Hunter, afforded advantages such as few students have possessed. Baillie observes of him, in a manuscript lecture, that no one ever possessed more enthusiasm for the art, more persevering industry, more acuteness of investigation, more perspicuity of expression, nor, indeed, a greater share of natural eloquence. The clearness and simplicity which rendered the lessons of William Hunter so instructive and so captivating, were visible, in nearly an equal de- gree, in the lectures which Baillie continued, during many years, to deliver in the same school. He seized every occasion of examining diseased appearances after death, and preserved minute notes of his observations ; his zeal in one instance endangered his life, from a slight wound received on his hand, by a knife, while engaged in the dis- section of a putrid body. He gradually accumu- lated a well-selected collection of specimens of 238 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. diseased organs ; it illustrates almost every diseased alteration in the human body, and is now pre- served in the College of Physicians, to whom he presented it, with a sum of six hundred pounds towards its maintenance, and with his medical library. In 1787 5 in his twenty-seventh year, he was elected one of the physicians to St. George's Hos- pital ; and two years afterwards, took the degree of doctor of medicine at Oxford, and became a fellow of the College of Physicians of London. Animated and surrounded by the labours of the two Hunters, Baillie collected and arranged a mul- titude of pathological facts, which he presented to the world, in 1 795, in his most useful work on The Morbid Anatomy of some of the most important parts of the Human Body. This well-known book reached five editions during his lifetime ; it was twice translated into French, and twice into German; it has also appeared in Italian. The illustrious Professor Soemmering was one of his German translators : in the letter Avhich accom- panied the present of his translation to Baillie, he styles it superior to any eulogium in his power to bestow. When speaking, in print, of its merits, he observes, in language which is doubly valuable, as coming from one of the most competent judges of the subject ; " the strictest attachment to truth characterizes every page of Dr. Baillie's work : accurate and impartial reasoning is every where conspicuous ; and there is no part but what dis- plays the share of attention that had been paid in observing those alterations of structure to which the various parts of our body are subject. Attcn- 239 tive and thinking practitioners will here find facts which will furnish them with the true causes of many phenomena they have observed ; they will often find explanations that they had long wished for ; and some will meet with facts, which, instead of agreeing with favourite theories, will serve in the strongest manner to refute them." Meckel, the mdt distinguished living anatomist in Europe, in the fasciculi of Morbid Anatomy which he has recently published, is perpetually citing the text and plates of Baillie, and has clearly derived more information from this source than from any other. Indeed no one can form a just notion of his power of compressing his subject matter, without compar- ing his treatise with the more voluminous ones which had preceded it on the same subject : there is scarcely a pathological fact in the enormous tomes of Bonetus, Lieutaud, and Morgagni, which is not to be found in the small and unpretending manual of Baillie. In the second edition he made a valuable addition of the Symptoms, but the drudgery of extensive practice, which gradually overwhelmed and oppressed him after the age of forty, prevented him from making any further important improvements. About four years after the appearance of this manual, he began to publish his " Engravings," illustrative of it : these plates reflect equal honour on the editor, the draughts- man, and the engraver ; in beauty they have never been excelled. Mr. Clift, the Conservator of the Museum of the College of Surgeons, ought to be mentioned as the artist of the drawings. In his twenty-ninth year Buillie married Sophia, the second daughter of the eminent Dr. Denman, 240 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. who, from his extensive connexions as an accouch- eur, possessed many opportunities of recommend- ing his son-in-law. A few years afterwards, Dr. Pitcairn, also, with whom Baillie had heen ac- quainted in very early life, was obliged, at the height of his fame, to relinquish his business through declining health, and introduced his friend to his patients. The circumstances of the illness and death of this accomplished physician, which made so favourable an opening for the rising for- tunes of Baillie, were peculiarly melancholy. He had been obliged to give up his practice, and em- bark for Lisbon in the summer of 1793, where a stay of eighteen months in the mild climate of Portugal so far restored him to health as to war- rant his return to England, and partial resumption of his professional duties. But his convalescence was of short duration only, and Pitcairn was des- tined soon to fall a victim to a disease that had hitherto escaped the observation of the faculty ; and though he had never published any medical work himself, the peculiar and melancholy privilege was reserved for him, to enlighten his profession in the very act of dying. In the spring of 1809, in the month of April, he complained of a soreness in his throat, which, however, he thought so lightly of, as to continue his professional visits for a day or two more. In the night of the 15th of that month, his throat became worse, and on the morning of the following day Baillie called upon him accidentally, but observed at that time no symptoms indicating danger; the insidious disease, however, slowly advanced, and after the lapse of twenty- four hours the embarrassment of breathing became suddenly BAILLIE. 241 more distressing, and in a few minutes the patient was dead. But to return to Baillie, his engagements in- creased so rapidly, after the first secession of Pit- cairn from London, that in 1799, after having performed the duties of physician to St. George's Hospital during thirteen years, he resigned that ap- pointment, gave up his anatomical lectures also, and, removing to Grosvenor-street, devoted himself entirely to general practice. Unfortunately the brilliant success of his career did not add much to his own happiness ; it was the means of rapidly unhinging his constitution, and of chilling both the elasticity and the tranquillity of mind which are only to be found when the body is in health. He does not seem to have been sufficiently early aware, that those who lead a life of constant un- varying devotion to one pursuit, gradually lose their relish for all other occupations, and become even MdifFerent to any relaxation. Medical men often painfully evince the truth of this remark. Even the taste which he had acquired in his youth for rural scenery and pursuits did not survive to abstract or to charm him at the time when for- tune had made him owner of a large domain ; and when retirement to the country became necessary to his health, he did not find in its haunts the repose which those alone enjoy who, in the midst of their busiest toils, have endeavoured to cherish and to keep alive a relish for the beauties of nature, of art, or of literature. Baillie was physician extraordinary to the late king, and physician in ordinary to the Princess Charlotte. In 1810 he attended on the Princess 242 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. Amelia. He was afterwards called to attend George the Third in his last illness ; an attendance which was protracted during ten years, and carried him very frequently to Windsor. He was invited to become an associate of many learned bodies, and received the singular honour of more than thirty dedications in an age when dedications are becom- ing more rare and more genuine. His prosperity did not render him less modest fn his estimate of himself: he used to say to his own family, "I know better, perhaps, than another man, from my knowledge of anatomy, how to discover a disease, but when I have done so, / do not knoio tetter how to cure it," He was remarkable for the con- sideration which he paid to the feelings of his pro- fessional brethren, and more particularly to the younger branches ; punctuality was also one of his characteristics. He was in the habit, during many years, of de- voting sixteen hours of each day to business : he often paid visits to his patients until a late hour at night. His physical frame was not so strong as his resolution, and the sword began to wear out the sheath. An irritability of mind sometimes involuntarily contended against his natural kind* ness of heart. He frequently came to his own table after a day of fatigue, and held up his hands to the family circle eager to welcome him home, saying, " Don't speak to me," and then, presently, after a glass of wine, and when the transitory cloud had cleared away from his brow, with a smile of affection he would look round, and exclaim, " You may speak to me now." He amassed a very considerable fortune ; but it BA1LLIE. 243 was not at the expense of generosity ; his kind- ness and even his munificence are preserved in the memory of many of his survivors. He was in the constant habit of refusing fees, \vhen he thought they could be ill afforded ; and not a few of his patients have become his pecuniary debtors. He had no taste for splendour, but he lived in the manner of an affluent English gentleman. His person was below the middle size, his countenance was plain, but frank ; he retained the dialect of his country, and was blunt in his address, but, when excited into earnest conversation, his fea- tures became illuminated with vivacity and intel- ligence. His personal habits were particularly simple. He preserved through life that tender interest towards his native land which invariably animates superior minds. From his habit of public lecturing, he had acquired two great advantages : First, a minute and accurate knowledge of the structure of the human body ; and, second, the most perfect dis- tinctness and excellent arrangement, in what may be called the art of statement. For this latter quality he was very remarkable ; and even when he was compelled to relinquish lecturing (by which he had acquired it), in consequence of the grow- ing extent of his practice, it continued to be of daily advantage to him. In examining a patient, for the purpose of learning the symptoms of the complaint, the questions he put were so feAV as to give an impression of haste and carelessness ; in conversing on the case with the physician whom he met in consultation, he was very short and clear ; and it was not until the relations or friends n 2 244 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. of the patient were admitted, and he proceeded to communicate to them the result of the consultation, that he appeared to full advantage. He then gave a short practical lecture, not merely on the symp- toms of the patient, but on the disease generally, in which all that was known on the subject was brought to bear on the individual case, and in doing this, his utterance was so deliberate, that it was easy to follow him. His explanations were so concise, that they always excited attention, and never tired ; and the simplicity of the language in which they were conveyed, where all technical terms were studiously avoided, rendered them per- fectly intelligible. It was a maxim with him that the most success- ful treatment of patients depended upon the exer- tion of sagacity or good common sense, guided by a competent professional knowledge, and not by following strictly the rules of practice laid down in books, even by men of the greatest talents and experience. " It is very seldom," he was used to say, " that diseases are found pure and unmixed, as they are commonly described by authors ; and there is almost an endless variety of constitutions. The treatment must be adapted to this mixture and variety, in order to be as success- ful as circumstances will permit ; and this allows of a very wide field for the exercise of good com- mon sense on the part of the physician." In his view of the case of a patient, he selected the leading features of the subject, and, neglecting all minor details, systematically abstained from touching upon anything ingenious, subtle, or far- fetched. Hence, in the treatment of disease, he BAILLIE. 245 was not fertile in expedients, but aimed at. the ful- filment of a few leading indications, by tbe em- ployment of the simplest means ; if these failed, he was often at a loss what to do next, and had not the talent, for which some are distinguished, of varying his prescription every day, so as to retain the confidence, and keep alive the expectation, of the patient. But this peculiarity of mind, which was perhaps a defect in the practice of his pro- fession, was a great advantage to him in his dis- course, and rendered him unrivalled as a lecturer. After writing a prescription he read it over with great care and consideration, for fear of having committed a mistake. During his latter years, when he had retired from all but consultation practice, and had ample time to attend to each individual case, he was very deliberate, tolerant, and willing to listen to what- ever was said to him by the patient ; but, at an earlier period, in the hurry of great business, when his day's work, as he was used to say, amounted to sixteen hours, he was sometimes rather irritable, and betrayed a want of temper in hearing the tiresome details of an unimportant story. After listening, with torture, to a prosing account from a lady, who ailed so little that she was going to the Opera that evening, he had happily escaped from the room, when he was urgently requested to step up stairs again ; it was to ask him whether, on her return from the Opera, she might eat some oysters : " Yes, Ma'am," said Baillie, " shells and all." One so engaged, in the daily toil and laborious duties of a great metropolitan doctor, may easily 246 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. be conceived to have enjoyed little leisure for the cultivation of any literary or scientific pursuit, not immediately connected with his profession ; and Baillie, it must be allowed, was wholly and en- tirely a physician. A few years only before his death, during a visit which the late Professor Gre- gory of Edinburgh made to London, these two eminent countrymen, equally distinguished in their respective departments, conversed together on several occasions ; and the judgment they jocosely passed upon each other was expressed in the following manner : " Baillie," said the accomplished and classical professor, " knows nothing but physic." " Gregory," exclaimed the skilful and experienced London practitioner, " seems to me to know every thing but physic."* In 1823, after much bodily suffering, but with an unshaken mind, his career was terminated, too soon for himself, for his friends, and for the public. He left some Brief Observations on Diseases, for private posthumous publication. They are very interesting to those who love to read the experience of an eminent man rather than to grasp at specious promises of novelty, and to confirm what they have learned rather than to wander in search of doubt. We cannot present the reader with a more just appreciation of this excellent man than is con- tained in the observations which his distinguished contemporary, Sir Henry Halford, delivered at the * Dr. Gregory, who for many years ably filled the chair of the theory and practice of medicine in the University of Edinburgh, was > however, highly distinguished as a physician, as well as in the world of letters. BAILLIE. iS*7 College over which he presides, on the character of his departed friend. " The same principles which guided Dr. Baillie in his private and domestic life governed his public and professional behaviour. He was kind, generous, and sincere. His purse and his per- sonal services were always at the command of those who could prefer a proper claim to them ; and every branch of the profession met with equal attention. Nay, such was his condescension, that he often incurred great inconvenience to himself by his punctual observance of appointments with the humblest practitioners. " In consultation he was candid and liberal in the highest degree ; and so industriously gave credit to the previous treatment of the patient, (if he could approve of it,) that the physician who called him in never failed to find himself in the same possession of the good opinion of the family as he was before the circumstances of the case had made a consultation necessary. " His manner of explaining the disease, and the remedies recommended, were peculiar to him- self, and singularly happy. It was a short com- pressed lecture, in which the objects in view, and the means by which they were to be obtained, were developed with great clearness of conception, and in such simple, unadorned language as was intelligible to his patient, and satisfactory to his colleague. " Before his time, it was not usual for a physi- cian to do much more than prescribe remedies for the malady, and to encourage the patient by such arguments of consolation as might present them- selves to humane and cultivated minds. But, as 248 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. the assumed gravity and outward signs of the pro- fession were now considered obsolete customs, and were, by general consent, laid aside by the physicians, and as a more curious anxiety began to be observed on the part of the patient to learn every thing connected with his complaint, arising naturally from the improved state of general know- ledge, a different conduct became necessary in the sick-room. " The innovation required by the spirit of mo- dern times never could have been adopted by any one more fitted by nature and inclination to carry it into effect than Dr. Baillie. " The attention which he had paid to morbid anatomy enabled him to make a nice discrimina- tion in symptoms, and to distinguish between dis- orders which resemble each other. It gave him a confidence also in propounding his opinions, which our conjectural art does not readily admit ; and the reputation which he enjoyed, universally, for openness and sincerity, made his dicta be re- ceived with a ready and unresisting faith. " He appeared to lay a great stress upon the information which he might derive from the ex- ternal examination of his patient, and to be much influenced in the information of his opinion of the nature of the complaint by this practice. " He had originally adopted this habit from the peculiar turn of his early studies ; and, assuredly, such a method, not indiscriminately, but judi- ciously employed, as he employed it, is a valuable auxiliary to the other ordinary means, used by a physician, of obtaining the knowledge of a disease submitted to him. But it is equally true, that. BAILLIE. 249 notwithstanding its air of mechanical precision, such examination is not to be depended upon be- yond a certain point. Great disordered action may prevail in a part, without having yet pro- duced such disorganization as may be sensibly felt ; and to doubt of the existence of a disease, because it is not discoverable by the touch, is not only unphilosophical, but must surely, in many instances, lead to unfounded and erroneous con- clusions. One of the inevitable consequences of such a system is frequent disappointment in fore- telling the issue of the malady, that most impor- tant of all points to the reputation of the physician ; and though such a mode of investigation might prove eminently successful in the skilful hands of Dr. Baillie, it must be allowed to be an example of dangerous tendency to those who have not had his means of acquiring knowledge, nor enjoyed the advantages of his great experience, nor have learned, by the previous steps of education and good discipline, to reason and judge correctly. The quickness with which a physician of keen per- ception, and great practice, makes up his mind on the nature of a disease, and the plan of treatment to be employed, differs as widely as possible from the inconsiderate haste which marks the decisions of the rash and the uninformed. " Dr. Baillie acquired business early by the credit of his book on morbid anatomy. From the date of its first publication, its materials must have been furnished, principally, by a careful inspection of the diseased preparations collected in the mu- seum of his uncle, Dr. Hunter. But it opened a new and most productive field of curious know- 250 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. ledge and interesting research in physic : and when he came to add, in the subsequent editions which were required, an account of the symptoms which accompanied the progressive alteration made in the natural structure of parts, by some diseases, during the life of the patient, from his own observation and experience, he rendered his work highly valuable and universally popular. Impressed, as he was, with the great importance and value of such morbid preparations, in assisting the physician to discriminate obscure internal dis- eases, his generosity prompted him, after the example of the immortal Harvey, to give, in his lifetime, his own collection to the College of Physicians. He has thus laid the foundation of a treasury of knowledge, for which posterity will owe him a debt of gratitude to the latest period. " He published, from time to time, several me- dical papers in the Transactions of the College, and in other periodical works ; all written in a plain and simple style, and useful, as containing the observations of a physician of such extensive experience. "But justice cannot be done to Dr. Baillie's medical character, unless that important feature in it, which appeared in every part of his conduct and demeanour, his religious principle, be dis- tinctly stated and recognised. His ample converse with one of the most wonderful works of the Creator, the formation of man, inspired in him an admiration of the Supreme Being, which no- thing could exceed. He had, indeed, ' looked through nature up to nature's God ; ' and the pro- mises of the Gospel, on the conditions explained BAILUE. liJL by our Redeemer, wore \\\s humble, but confident hope in life, and his consolation in death. " If one precept appeared to be more practi- cally approved by him than another, it was that which directs us to do unto others as we would have them do unto us ; and this was felt and ac- knowledged daily by all his professional brethren in their intercourse with him. " On the whole, we may say of him what Tacitus does of Agricola : Bonum virum facile crcderes ; magnum libenter." 252 JENNER. AMONG all the names which ought to be consecrated by the gratitude of mankind, that of Jenner stands pre-eminent : it would be difficult, we are inclined to say impossible, to select from the catalogue of benefactors to human nature, an individual who has contributed so largely to the preservation of life, and to the alleviation of sufferings. Into what- ever corner of the world the blessing of printed knowledge has penetrated, there also will the name of Jenner be familiar ; but the fruits of his discovery have ripened in barbarous soils, where books have never been opened, and where the savage does not pause to inquire from what source he has derived relief. No improvement in the physical sciences can bear a parallel with that which ministers, in every part of the globe, to the prevention of deformity, and, in a great propor- tion, to the exemption from actual destruction. The ravages which the small-pox formerly com- mitted are scarcely conceived or recollected by the present generation ; and an instance of death occurring after vaccination is now eagerly seized and commented upon; yet forty years have not elapsed since this disease might fairly be termed the scourge of mankind, and an enemy more ex- tensive and more insidious in its warfare than even the plague. A family blighted in its fairest JENNER. 253 hopes, through this terrible visitation, was an every- day spectacle : the imperial house of Austria lost eleven of its offspring by the small pox in fifty years alone ;* the instance is mentioned, because it is historical, but in the obscure and unrecorded scenes of life, this pest was often a still more merciless intruder. Nevertheless, a painful reflection is forced upon us, in considering the history of Jenner; he surely did not receive, among his countrymen, the distinction, the fortune, and the fame which he merited. It seems that, among nations called civilized, the persons who contribute to amusement, and to the immediate gratification of the senses, occupy a higher share of attention, than the gifted and generous beings who devote their existence to the discovery of truths of vital importance. The sculptor, the painter, the musician, the actor, shall engross, a thousand times, the thoughts of citizens, who perhaps, only five times in a whole life, consider the merits of a Jenner. The little arts of puffing, the mean machinery of osten- tation, never once entered the heads of a Newton, a Watt, or a Jenner ; but they protrude into me- ridian splendour the puny pretensions of count- less poetasters, witlings, and amateurs. Real genius and active industry should not be dismayed, however, by this indifference which clouds the dawn of their exertions, and which sometimes nips the bud of noble aspirations ; for great truths there will always come a time and a place ; the * The grandfather of Maria Theresa died of it, wrapped, by order of the faculty, in twenty yards of scarlet broad-cloth. 254 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. man who works for the benefit of his fellow- beings can afford to wait the hour allotted for the full development of his labours, and bequeaths, in tranquil confidence, to posterity the reputation which he may have failed to obtain from a domi- nant coterie of capricious contemporaries. The father of Jenner was vicar of Berkeley, in Gloucestershire, the possessor of considerable landed property, and a member of a family of great antiquity in that county and Worcester- shire. Edward Jenner, his third son, the illus- trious subject of our memoir, was born in the vicarage on the 17th of May, 1749. Before Edward was nine years of age he mani- fested a growing taste for natural history in form- ing a collection of the nests of the dormouse ; and when at Cirencester, he spent the hours, devoted by the other pupils of Dr. Washbourn's school to play, in searching for the fossils which abound in that neighbourhood. He was removed from this seminary to Sudbury, near Bristol, in order to be instructed in the elements of surgery and pharmacy by Mr. Ludlow, a person of eminence in his profession. When he had completed his apprenticeship to this gentleman, he came to London, to pursue his studies under the care of John Hunter, in whose house he resided, as a pupil, during two years. Jenner was, on his arrival in London, in the twenty-first year of his age, and John Hunter was now in his forty - second. This difference of age did not prevent the formation of a real friendship ; a community of tastes and pursuits united them to the last ; and Jenner could not fail to profit by the many oppor- JENNER. ZOi) tunities which his patron enjoyed, as a lecturer, as surgeon to St. George's Hospital, and in the pos- session of a menagerie at Brompton, where he prosecuted his inquiries into the habits and struc- ture of animals. This was a fortunate crisis in Jenner's life ; the spark of observation was latent in his mind, and Hunter supplied the friendly breath. Jenner became an enthusiast in pursuit of natural history, in its most extended sense. In the dissection of tender and delicate organs, and in minute injections, he was almost unrivalled, and displayed the parts with the greatest accuracy and elegance. He bequeathed to Dr. Baron, of Gloucester, his friend and able biographer, a preparation which combines all these qualities. It represents the progress of the ovum in our common domestic fowl, from its first develop- ment to its full and complete growth, when it is about to be dropped from the oviduct. The vas- cularity of the membrane which invests the ova, as well as the internal state of the oviduct, where the shell is formed, are all exhibited with masterly skill. "While he was residing with Hunter, in 177^ Captain Cooke returned from his first voyage of discovery. The specimens of natural history which had been collected by Sir Joseph Banks were in a great measure arranged by Jenner, who was recommended by Hunter for that ser- vice. So much dexterity and knowledge were evinced by him in the execution of this labour, that he was offered the appointment of Natu- ralist to the next expedition, which sailed in 1772. Neither this flattering proposal, however, 256 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. nor any other more enticing prospects, could alter his purpose of fixing his abode in the place which had given him birth. He was partly influenced in this determination by the grateful affection which he entertained towards his eldest brother, the guide of his orphan years; and partly by that attachment to rural scenes, and to the traces of early life, which operates more or less on every generous and sensitive heart. He returned, accordingly, to Berkeley, and took up his residence with his brother Stephen. Few men have commenced their career with a more conscientious preparation for its duties. Towards John Hunter he ever maintained the most grateful friendship, and generally spoke of him as the dear man : he kept up an active cor- respondence with his former instructor, and the letters preserved in Dr. Baron's memoir are full of lively interest on subjects of natural his- tory and physiology ; pictures form sometimes a topic of discussion, and on both sides remark- able ardour and industry are displayed on the investigations congenial to their disposition. His practice rapidly increased, and he acquired a de- gree of reputation rarely attained at so early an age. Still he abstracted from the fatigues of country practice a sufficient portion of time to accumulate, in a short time, a series of specimens illustrative of comparative anatomy and natural history, which, had they been displayed with more ostentation, would have formed no inconsiderable museum. His attention was, in later years, drawn to a more engrossing object; otherwise, his re- searches in the above field must have placed him JENNER. 257 finally in an elevated rank amongst its most suc- cessful explorers. We perceive that Jenner was not conducted to his great discovery by an accident which might have equally favoured a less diligent student, but that his mind was prepared to seize any previously unnoticed phenomenon which might present itself, and to derive from a careful and vigorous spirit of observation those profitable results which the indolent and timid ascribe to the chance of fortune, but which are in reality the rewards of patient and \vell-directed inquiry. We shall enter more minutely into the early period of Jenner's life than into the details of his later years, which are in a manner embodied with the subject that has consecrated his name. The years in which a great character forms itself, and the manner in which it displays itself before it has ripened into public fame, are always those least familiar to the world, and, we may add, are often the most instructive and animating to others. In this early part of his career Jenner afforded indi- cations of genius which good judges of character recognised as the harbingers of future reputation. His surgical attainments, his amiable and polished manners, and his very general information, se- cured to him a welcome reception from the most distinguished families in his district. His tender- ness, kindness, and meekness, were remarkable ; an uncommon delicacy of feeling occasionally threw a pensive shade over his mind, but his lively disposition equally entered into the deepest sympathy with the sadder moments of his friends, or gaily participated in their happier hours. The excursions which he was obliged to make gratified s 258" BRITISH PHYSICIANS. his keen relish for the picturesque beauty in which his neighbourhood abounded ; and many were de- lighted to accompany him twenty miles in his morning ridesy eagerly listening to the overflow- ings of an enthusiastic admirer of nature and of art. His appearance and manner during this portion of his life were vividly described to Dr. Baron by one of his earliest friends, in terms so character- istic that the object stands before us. " His height was 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 pre- pared 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 sin it 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 be- JENXER. VO'J tween Apollo and ^Esculapius was so well main- tained in his person." The attraction of Jenner's conversation would often induce his friends to accompany him even at midnight many miles on his road homewards from professional avocations. His humour is described by Dr. Baron as most enlivening and descriptive, and the more engaging, as it was alike free from all manner of impurity and of malevolence. In these respects he was, as Izaak Walton says, neither beholden to the devil nor his own corruptions, but kept clear of both. His imagination was always active, and he appears to have frequently sought relaxation from severer studies in poetical compositions. He was much attached to music performed on the violin and flute. In his latter years (says Dr. Baron), after his renown had filled the world, and after the many cares attendant on vaccination had oiten weighed heavy upon him, I have seen him shake them entirely off, take up a humorous strain, and sing one of his own ballads with all the mirth of youthful life. We subjoin a few specimens of his verse, not so much for their poetic merit (though that of the second piece, especially, has received high and just praise), as to mark his flexibility of talent, and his close obser- vation of the features of nature. ADDRESS TO A ROBIN. COME, sweetest of the feather'd throng ! And sooth me with thy plaintive song ; Come to my cot, devoid of fear, No danger shall await thee here. No prowling cat, with whisker'd face, Approaches this sequester'd place ; s 2, 260 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. No school boy, with his willow-bow, Shall aim at thee a murd'rous blow ; , No wily limed twig e'er molest Thy olive wing or crimson breast : Thy cup, sweet bird ! I'll duly fill At yonder cressy, bubbling rill ; Thy board shall plenteously be spread With crumblets of the nicest bread : And when rude winter comes, and shows His icicles and shiv'ring snows, Hop o'er my cheering hearth, and be One of my peaceful family : Then sooth me with thy plaintive song, Thou sweetest of the feather'd throng ! SIGNS OF RAIN. An Excuse for not accepting the Invitation of a Friend to make a Country Excursion. THE hollow winds begin to blow, The clouds look black, the glass is low, The soot falls down, the spaniels sleep, And spiders from their cobwebs creep. Last night the sun went pale to bed, The moon in halos hid her head. The boding shepherd heaves a sigh, For see ! a rainbow spans the sky. The walls are damp, the ditches smell ; Closed is the pink-eyed pimpernel. Hark ! how the chairs and tables crack ; Old Betty's joints are on the rack. Loud quack the ducks, the peacocks cry ; The distant hills are looking nigh. How restless are the snorting swine ! The busy flies disturb the kine. Low o'er the grass the swallow wings ; The cricket, too, how loud it sings ! Puss, on the hearth, with velvet paws, Sits smoothing o'er her whisker'd jaws. Through the clear stream the fishes rise, And nimbly catch th* incautious flies ; The sheep were seen, at early light, Cropping the meads with eager bite. JENNER. 261 Though June, the air is cold and chill ; The mellow blackbird's voice is still. The glow-worms, numerous and bright,' Illumed the dewy dell last night ; At dusk the squalid toad was seen, Hopping, crawling, o'er the green. The frog has lost his yellow vest, And in a dingy suit is dress'd. The leech, disturb'd, is newly risen Quite to the summit of his prison. The whirling winds the dust obeys, And in the rapid eddy plays. My dog, so alter'd in his taste, Quits mutton-bones, on grass to feast ; And see yon rooks, how odd their flight ! They imitate the gliding kite ; Or seem precipitate to fall, As if they felt the piercing ball. 'Twill surely rain : I see, with sorrow, Our jaunt must be put off to-morrow. In March, 1788, he added greatly to his happi- ness by marrying Miss Catharine Kingscote, a lady of elegant manners, accomplished mind, and vigorous understanding ; in her counsel and sym- pathy he found support in many of the future trials of his life. About this time, his curious paper on the Cuckoo was read at the Royal Society, and printed in the Transactions. He had bestowed great care in collecting the facts, and in reporting them with fidelity. It explained the habits of the cuckoo with much clearness, and its account has been adopted by every succeeding naturalist. The cuckoo does not itself hatch the six eggs which it lays, from time to time, in the spring, but places them singly in the nest of the hedge-sparrow, water- wagtail, &c. ; the office of incubation being 262 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. thus transferred to the latter. It is remarkable that its eggs, although much larger than those of these other birds, do not require a longer period of incubation. The young cuckoo grows rapidly, and soon expels the brood of the sparrow, &c., from their own nest. Jenner proposes a new solu- tion of these peculiarities ; for which we refer our readers to the original, or to the analysis of his 1 aographer. Oppressed by the fatigues inseparable from ge- neral practice in the country, he resolved to con- fine himself to medicine, and obtained, in 1792, a degree of M.D. from the University of St. An- drew's. No man has conferred more lustre on that title, however obtained, than Jenner ; but it is due to this ancient seminary to state, that it no longer affords admission to its honours on such easy terms ; it has reformed itself, and now de- serves to rank with most of the medical schools of Europe in the tests of proficiency which it de- mands from candidates. Towards the end of 1794, Jenner was attacked with a typhus fever, which nearly proved fatal. The excellent Dr. Parry, of Bath, came to attend him. He has himself left a touching picture of his own sufferings, as well as' those of his family, in a letter addressed to his friend, W. F. Shrapnell, Esq. We now arrive at the critical period of Jenner's life, to which our limits will render a very inade- quate justice ; happily the subject is one on which information has been amplv accumulated, and is easily accessible on all sides. While Jenner was pursuing his professional education in the house of his master, at Sudbury, 7ENNER. a young countrywoman applied for advice; the subject of small-pox was casually mentioned in her presence ; she immediately remarked, " I cannot take that disease, for I have had cow-pox." This was a popular notion in his district, but it now fixed his attention, and grew with his growth. It appears that, in Dorsetshire, a pustular eruption, derived from infection, and chiefly showing itself on the hands of milkers who had milked cows similarly disordered, attracted attention about forty or fifty years ago. It had been found to secure persons from the small-pox. Numerous examples are said to have been communicated to Sir George Baker, who had been, not long before, engaged in a very troublesome, though honourable and successful, controversy respecting the endemical colic of Devonshire, and was probably unwilling to break another lance. In one of Jenner's note- books, of 1799> we find the following anecdote: " I know of no direct allusion to the disease in any ancient writer, yet the following seems not very distantly to bear upon it. When the Duchess of Cleveland was taunted by her companions, Moll Davis (Lady Mary Davis) and others, that she might soon have to deplore the loss of that beauty which was then her boast, the small-pox at that time raging in London : she made a reply to this effect, that she had no fear about the matter, for she had had a disorder which would prevent her from ever catching the small-pox. This was lately communicated by a gentleman, in this county, but unfortunately he could not recollect from what author he gained this intelligence." Jenner had frequently witnessed the ravages of 264 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. small-pox ; he also vividly remembered the disci- pline to which he had been himself subjected prepa- ratory to his inoculation for that disease : " There was," to use his own words, " bleeding till the blood was thin, purging till the body was wasted to a ske- leton, and starring on vegetable diet to keep it so." He early mentioned his rumours of the vaccine protection to Jobn Hunter, who does not seem to have afforded him much encouragement. He ap- pears to have first considered the subject in 1775, and it often recurred to him between that time and 1796, when he made his first decisive experiment. Riding with his friend Gardner, in 1780, on the road between Gloucester and Bristol, he sketched to his friend, in the outlines of anticipation, the plan which he wished to pursue, and the success which might possibly hereafter dawn upon him. These are the delicious moments of genius, of in- dustry when, wandering for a time from the rugged or thorny walk of daily exertion, the pro- spective eye looks down from a tranquil and lofty eminence on the distant and varied scenery of hope, melting into the sky, and illumined with" all the colours of imagination. At the meetings of the Alveston Medical Club, of which he was a member, he often introduced his fa- vourite theme, but failed in communicating his own enthusiasm to his hearers, who denounced the topic as a nuisance, from its frequent appearance, and even sportively threatened to expel the orator if he continued to harass them with this importunate dis- course. Jenner everywhere proclaimed his belief in the efficacy of his antidote, but he found none to second his wishes ; a similar reception had been JENMER. 265 experienced by Harvey, when he published his views of the circulation of the blood. Let no one hereafter abate the honest zeal of useful pursuit, because his ideas are chilled at first by a uni- versal frigid sneer, or by careless ridicule ; such has ever been the fate of those who labour for the benefit of mankind : even the wisest among us oppose innumerable prejudices to the acknow- ledgment of a new truth ; and happy are those who, like Jenner, survive to witness the triumph of their painful struggles in its promulgation. In 1788 he carried to London a drawing of the casual disease, as seen on the hands of the milkers, and showed it to Sir Everard Home, and to others. John Hunter had alluded frequently to the fact in his lectures ; Dr. Adams had heard of the cow- pox both from Hunter and Cline, and mentions it in his treatise on Morbid Poisons, printed in 1795, three years previously to Jenner's own publication. Still no one had the courage or the penetration to prosecute the inquiry except Jenner. A noble but modest spirit animated him amidst the doubts of all ; he has left us an interesting picture of his feelings. " While the vaccine dis- covery was progressive, the joy I felt at the pro- spect 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, were 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 those reflections always ended in devout acknowledgments to that 266 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. Being from whom this and all other blessings flow." Hitherto he had only remarked the casual dis- ease ; it remained to be proved whether it was possible to propagate the affection by inoculation from one human being to another, and thus com- municate security against small-pox at will. On the 14th of May, 1796, an opportunity occurred of making the trial. On that day an annual festival is still held at Berlin to commemorate the event. Matter was then taken from the hand of Sarah Nelmes, who had been infected by her master's cows, and inserted by two superficial incisions into the arms of James Phipps, a healthy boy of about eight years old. After zealously multiplying his experiments, he published his first memoir in June, 1798. He had originally intended to con- sign his results to the Transactions of the Royal Society ; but Dr. Gregory has quoted from Mr. Moore's History of Vaccination (p. 20), the cause of their not appearing in that form Jenner had been seriously admonished not to present his paper, lest it should injure the character which he had previously acquired among scientific men by his essay on the Cuckoo. In this work he announced the security against small-pox afforded by the true cow-pox, and also traces the origin of that disease in the cow to a similar affection of the heel of the horse. This is neither the time nor the place for record- ing the various disappointments and difficulties which darkened the outset of this inestimable dis- covery, nor do we wish to recall the names of those who violently opposed its progress, or who less JENNEIl. 267 candidly sought to undermine the pretensions of its author. The late eminent surgeon, Mr. Cline, deserves to be enumerated among the warmest friends of Jenner ; he advised him to quit the country, and to settle in Grosvenor Square, pro- mising him an income of ten thousand a year as the fruits of his practice. Here was the tide in Jenner's life which perhaps he might have taken to his advantage, hut those who read the modest and philosophic reasons which he assigns for preferring his original situation, will respect his motives. " Shall I," says he in a letter to a friend, " 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 for- tune 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." However wisely Jenner may have consulted his own feelings on this occasion, the public lost the benefit of his judgment and presence ; after a long period of apathy, and in spite of ridicule, a re- action at length ensued, and vaccination suddenly became a favourite with all ranks, and was not always judiciously practised, nor carefully exa- mined. While the author of the discovery was absent, busy rivals started up ; he was not present to plead his own claims, nor to explain his own views ; cabals were formed, not for the purpose of doing him justice, but rather to repress him into obscurity. But these alloys are seldom wanting 268 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. to successful projectors, and we are scarcely sur- prised to find that one active promoter of the discovery is only so far penetrated* with Jenner's merit, as to offer him the situation of extra-corre- sponding physician to a vaccine institution, with the privilege of recommending patients by proxy, on the payment of an annual guinea. But an honour- able tribute was paid to him so early as the summer of 1799, when thirty-three of the leading physi- cians, and forty eminent surgeons of London, signed an earnest expression of their confidence in the efficacy of the cow-pox. Persons of ele- vated rank deserve the highest commendation when they afford support to objects which do not easily become familiar to them ; the Royal Family of England exerted themselves to encourage Jen- ner; the Duke of Clarence was very active in the cause in the early part of 1800, and in the March of the same year Jenner was introduced successively to the Duke of York, the King, the Prince of Wales, and the Queen ; all of whom did themselves honour by the attention which they bestowed upon him. Jenner next directed his benevolent exertions to diffuse the blessing among other countries. In order to estimate properly the fruits of his exertions, let us consider the evil which he combated, and which he finally deprived of its principal strength. From an examination of the London bills of mor- tality during forty-two years, Dr. Jurin ascertained that, even after inoculation had been introduced, one in fourteen of all that were born perished by the small-pox. Of persons of every age taken ill in the natural way, one in five or six died ; while JEXNER. 209 even of the inoculated one in fifty fell a victim. Condorcet, in recommending the adoption of vac- cination in France, exclaimed, " La petite verole nous decime." In the Russian empire it is said to have swept away two millions in a single year.* At Constantinople it proved fatal in many epidemics to one half of those infected. But, after that the dis- ease had been undergone, traces often remained in the habit only inferior in severity to the evil itself; it appears from the records of the London Asylum for the Indigent Blind, that three-fourths of the objects there relieved had lost their sight through the small-pox. These inflictions might fill many pages of detail ; they ought to be steadily borne in mind even at present. The late professor Gregory had the merit of introducing vaccination into Scotland, in which he was aided by Sir Matthew Tierney. Dr. Waterhouse succeeded, about the year 1800, in establishing the practice in America. Dr. De Carro, at that period settled in Vienna, deserves particular mention for his successful exertions in communicating this antidote to Asia. We cannot afford space to enumerate the active promoters of the measure on the continent of Europe, but Dr. Sacco of Milan distinguished himself both by active co-operation, and by personal inquiries into the origin of cow-pox. Most of the governments of Europe have since enjoined the practice by various enactments, which more or less amount to compulsion, and the results have been more favourable under such circumstances than in our * Woodville on Small-Pox, p. 292. 270 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. own country, where individuals are abandoned to the guidance of their own capricious suggestions. A committee of parliament was soon appointed to consider the claims of Jenner upon the gratitude of his country. It was clearly proved that he had converted into scientific demonstration a local tra- dition of the peasantry. The committee reported that he was entitled to a remuneration of 20,000; but an objection was raised in the house, and 10,000 were voted to him in 1802. In 1807, parliament displayed more justice, and awarded to him an additional grant of 20,000. In 1808, the National Vaccine Establishment was formed by the government, and was placed under his im- mediate direction. Honours were now profusely showered upon Jenner by various foreign princes, as well as by the principal learned bodies of Eu- rope. In the biographies of most men such honours would be recapitulated with minuteness, but the character of Jenner can derive from them no additional lustre ; the universal voice of man- kind has given its suffrage in his favour, and his name will probably survive most of the societies in which it was enrolled. Dr. Baron, in his interesting biography, by which we have largely profited, has published many of the letters which Jenner wrote to afford intelligence, or to express his thanks ; they breathe the finest spirit of modesty and temperance, combined with generous zeal, and a discriminating judgment. In the explanations which he had sometimes occasion to deliver in society, he always exhibited the same qualities, clothed in an eloquent and winning form. He passed the remainder of his years principally JENNCR. 271 at Berkeley and at Cheltenham, continuing to the last the inquiries which tended to elucidate the great object of his life, and equally respected and beloved by those who entered his circle. Dr. Va- lentin, an eminent physician of Nancy has pub- lished in France an interesting account of a visit, or pilgrimage, which he made to genius ; he left him an enthusiastic admirer. Dr. Joseph Frank, in his Medical Travels, printed at Vienna, has paid a similar tribute of disinterested respect. He died by a sudden attack of apoplexy at Berkeley, in February, 1823, in the seventy-fourth year of a green old age. A statue has been erected to his memory in his native county, but we regret to add that no monument has as yet been raised to him in Westminster Abbey, whose proudest inmates would be honoured by such com- panionship. We are acquainted with five medals which have been struck in honour of Jenner, and it is greatly to the honour of the German nation that three of these were produced in that country. The sur- geons of the British navy presented him with one, and the London Medical Society with another. The eminent physiologist, Rudolphi, of Berlin, in his Catalogue of the Medals of Men of Science, prefaces the list of Jennerian medals with the just expression, Dear to the human race. We regret to be obliged to oppose to this generous sjinpathy an article which has appeared in the Dictionnaire des Sciences Medicales^ in which Dr. Husson, who had been an early correspondent of Jenner's, makes a singular discovery, " sur 1'origine vraiment Fran9aise de la Vaccine." In 1803, Dr. Husson 272 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. had spoken in warm terms " de la decouverte de Jenner," and had hailed him as one of the " plus grands bienfaiteurs de I'humanite." But in the article of Vaccination, published in the above dictionary, in 1821, he declares in detail that the first idea was given by a Frenchman, videlicet, Mr. Rabant, a protestant minister at Montpelier. But a question more worthy of attention forces itself on our notice. Is the small-pox totally under the control of vaccination, and is it likely to be extirpated? Those who consider the careless- ness and improvidence of mankind, the manner in which trivial accidents often impede the most ear- nest intentions, and the alloy of evil so largely mixed up with every earthly good, cannot entertain any sanguine hope to that effect, but are not at all the less penetrated with the value of vaccination. Every habit and every object in nature has its ex- ceptions. Thousands of seeds are deposited yearly in the earth, which never shoot into life, but the farmer does not the less continue to sow. The cases of small-pox which occur after vaccination are not more numerous than the exceptions which alike occur to other human antidotes. If vaccination cannot be at present considered as a never-failing and invariable preservative, it must continue to be recommended as a very potent and a very general preventive of small-pox. It is an operation attended with no danger, and with very little in- convenience ; it protects a very large majority ; and in those instances in which small -pox occurs subsequently to it, it usually assumes a mild cha- racter. It should be noticed, that these subsequent instances are less frequent in the countries in which JENNEB, ay.) vaccination is enforced by tlie government, tliau in our own. The Council of Health, of Paris, in their annual report for 1828, declare, that the deaths from small-pox continue gradually to di- minish in that city ; and express a helief, that the authorities are more active than ever in propa- gating vaccination, and that the prejudices of the public are daily yielding to the conviction forced upon it by repeated evidence of efficacy. We shall conclude with the important statement conveyed in the last " Report of the National Vac- cine Establishment" to the Secretary of State for the Home Department. March '2d, 129. The number of persons who have died of small-pox in the course of the last year, within the bills of mor- tality, amounts to 598 ; and we have no reason to think that this distemper has abated any thing of its virulence, or 'that it is more controllable by the expedients of our art than it was in the times of its more general prevalence ; for it still proves fatal to one out of three of those who take it in the natural wuy. It may seem strange, therefore, that any part of the population of the capital can still be found insensible to the advantages of the protective process, or careless enough to forego the resource which the charity of Parlia- ment most humanely and generously provides for its safety. We have the satisfaction, however, of finding that more than 10,000 of the poor have been vaccinated in London and its neighbourhood since our last Report ; and it is par- ticularly gratifying to learn, from the Tecords of the last year's experience of the Small-pox Hospital, that no patient admitted there under small-pox, after vaccination, had been vaccinated by any officer of this Establishment ; whence it is fair to presume, that when the operation has been per- formed with due care and intelligence, it is much less liable to be followed by small-pox, and that such care and circum- spection are absolutely necessary to a just and confident ex- pectation that complete protection will be afforded by it. T 274 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. We have supplied lymph to the array and navy, to the Colonies, and to various parts of the Continent of Europe, since our last account ; and our correspondence, which has become more extensive than ever, bears us out in assuming that there is no increase in the proportion of cases of small- pox after vaccination, which affords an answer to questions put to us repeatedly as-to the gradual diminution and wear- ing out of She vaccine lymph by time ; for it does not appear to us to be weakened or deteriorated by transmission through any number of subjects in the course of any number of years. 275 PARRY. CALEB HILLIER PARRY was born at Cirencester, in Gloucestershire, on the 21st of October, 1755. He was descended from an ancient and respectable family in Pembrokeshire, which formerly had considerable possessions in that county, and in Carmarthenshire. This property became mucli subdivided amongst twenty-one children, the de- scendants of one parent ; but an elder branch of the family still retains the hereditary estates of Penderry and Portelew, and the late John Parry, their owner, served the office of sheriff for his own county, in the year 1771- The Rev. Joshua Parry, father of Dr. Parry, was a dissenting minister, distinguished alike tor his knowledge and talents in an Augustan age of literature, and for his loyalty in turbulent and doubtful times. He was, during thirty years, the intimate friend and correspondent of Allen, Lord Bathurst, the Maecenas of the age ; and was con- nected with Hawkesworth, Tucker, Doddridge, Lewis, Scott, and many other eminent men. He was an excellent classical, Welsh, and Hebrew scholar, and an admired contributor to various periodical publications. Hawkins, in his life of Johnson, informs us, that he was one of the ori- ginal writers in the Gentleman's Magazine, and that " his head teemed with knowledge." A vo- T2 276 BIUTISII PHYSICIANS. lunie of his sermons, and two detached sermons against Popery, evince the purity of his style, and the excellence of his moral and religious prin- ciples. Numerous letters, addressed to Mr. Parry, by his noble friend, and by many other celebrated persons, still manifest the love and respect in which he was held by all who had the pleasure of his acquaintance, and the high opinion which they entertained of his abilities, his acquirements, and his moral qualities. This valuable individual died at Cirencester, where he had always resided, in the year 1776, at the age of fifty-seven. Dr. Parry was the eldest of three sons and seven daughters, the last survivor of whom was the late Lady Hobhouse. His mother inherited from her father, Mr. Caleb Hillier, the estates of Upcote and Minety, and other lands in Glouces- tershire, which descended to the subject of our present memoir. Young Parry received the rudi- ments of his education at the school of the Rev. Mr. Washbourn at Cirencester, and there formed, with the late Dr. Jenner, a friendship, which during the remainder of their lives contributed to the advantage and happiness of both. In 1770, he was placed at the academy at "\Var- rington, in Lancashire, where he became a general favourite, as well from his disposition as from his talents. Among his acquaintance, at this period, may be mentioned the late Dr. Aikin, whose friend- ship and correspondence he maintained arid valued during many subsequent years. In a letter, ad- dressed to his father, Mr. Parry is thus favourably described by his tutor, the well-known Dr. Enfield : " He has such an uncommon share of manlv PARRY. 277 sense, such a calmness of temper, and philoso- phical firmness of mind, that I think he may safely be trusted to the direction of his own mind. Indeed, my dear sir, you have great reason to think yourself happy in him. His genius, his application, his disposition, all promise great things. I hope neither your expectation, nor mine, concerning him, will be disappointed." His person is also thus described in a letter, written at the same period : " He is more than ordinarily tall for his years, and admirably well proportioned. In his air and deportment there is a gravity that, though he is not yet sixteen, he might very well pass for twenty. He is very fair, has regular fea- tures, and eyes the most penetrating, with an ex- pression of great sweetness." He continued at Warrington till 177-^ i' 1 which year, having chosen the medical profession, he commenced his studies at Edinburgh. In the summer of 177>, he visited London, and during two years resided chiefly with the late Dr. Den man. He returned to Edinburgh in 1777, and graduated in the month of June, 177^ being then in his twenty-third year. As annual president, he was greatly instrumental in procuring a royal charter for the Medical Society, then recently instituted in that city. His correspondence, relative to this subject, with Dr. Robertson, the historian, and principal of the university, is still preserved. In October, 1778, Dr. Parry was united to Miss Rigby, to whom he had formed au early attach- ment at Warrington. This lady, the daughter of John Rigby, Esq., of Lancaster, was no less cele- brated for her beauty than for her amiable dispo- 278 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. sition and engaging manners. The friendship and admiration of Mrs. Barbauld dedicated to her young friend several of the poems which she was then publishing. The exquisite lines ad- dressed " to Miss R. when attending her mother at Buxton," exhibit the character and merits of Mrs. Parry- Her mother, the daughter of Dr. Taylor, well known as a Hebrew scholar, hy his numerous writings, and from a portrait by Houbraken, had been celebrated by the same muse. Shortly after his marriage, Dr. Parry proceeded to the continent ; and having visited Holland, Flanders, and France, took up his final residence at Bath, in November, ] 779 ; and scarcely quitted that city for a day during the remainder of his useful and valuable life. It has been remarked, that within a short period after his settlement at Bath, Dr. Parry assumed a high and commanding station, professional as well as social. He became much distinguished by his extensive and enlightened practice, by the hu- manity of his character, and by the publication of numerous medical writings. The profession of me- dicine, which, at the early age of eighteen, he had adopted from choice, he pursued through the maturity and fulness of years, with a fondness and ardour which ensured superiority and success. Few individuals have, indeed, been more zealously devoted to this pursuit, or have engaged in it with a more intense desire of improving the science ; or of augmenting its power as an instrument of practical benefit to mankind. Few individuals have been more incessantly occupied in its duties, or PARRY. 279 have been more rewarded by private attachment and by public confidence. It is true that, like other ardent minds, he felt some degree of early impa- tience at the slow rate of professional advance- ment, -and -even entertained some little doubt as to the ultimate attainment of the desired success-. Under these circumstances, the advice and expe- rience of his esteemed friend, Dr. Demnan, were readily communicated ; and while they exhibited the warrantable grounds of hope, moderated al>o the indulgence of premature and unjustifiable ex- pectation. A letter, dated December 20, 17^ says, " I heard, soon after your arrival at Bath, of your determination to settle there, and as I had always the best opinion of your judgment, had no doubt but you had considered the likelihood of getting forward in the profession. This, you know, can only be done -either by powerful in- terest, or by slow degrees, consequent to the assiduous and able exercise of your profession. You must not be dispirited if the attempts you make often fail to answer your expectations. With respect to myself, I assure you, it will give me very sincere pleasure to contribute to your success." A second letter, >dated October 1(5, 178-1, alludes .to the same subject : "Since the time of your first settling at Bath, I have ever borne in mind the wish to serve you, if an opportunity offered. There have been very few, but I have mentioned you to several who have come down. I am not surprised that you find your receipts come in slowly at present, but all young practitioners think, when they set up their standard, that the world should .immediately flock to it, and they aro 280 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. generally disturbed when they find the contrary. But all business is progressive, and the steps now taken may be so calculated as to produce their effect ten years hence. There must be a vacancy before we can get into business, and when there rs T the competition must be equal in many points, as age or standing, character for knowledge, industry or readiness to exert our knowledge for the good ef our patients, moral qualities, and the like. On the whole, I do not know what any man can do to get patients, but to qualify himself for business, and then to introduce him- self to the notice of those who are likely to employ him. But it is hard to say, on what hinge this matter may turn, as I see men, in great business, of every disposition, or turn of conduct, and with very different degrees of know- ledge, and some, I think, with very little, but with great appearance of it. What is very hard, and yet I know two or three instances of it, is, that a man shall be esteemed as a friend, acknowledged to be a man of parts, but none of his friends think of employing him in his profession. This I can hardly explain, unless by the old observation, l he is too good a poet to be a good physician.' You have judged very wisely in getting appointed to the Charit} 7 - It must do some good, though hardly ever so much as is expected from it. I know not why the late Dr. Fofrhergill said it was a bad thing. With all that can be done, the progress of business must be slow, and may depend upon circumstances which no man can command ; but whatever hap- pens, it is a point both of wisdom to the world, and justice to one's selfj not to be put out of humour." PARRY. 281 This excellent advice had the best effect on Dr. Parry's conduct. There were, however, still many points connected with the practice of medicine which, while they materially interfered with his wish to improve the science, and confer all the benefits of which he was capable, excited his sur- prise, and at the same time, offended his integrity. 44 A great part," he says, " of the obstacles to the improvement of the science of medicine originates in the habit of self-indulgence, leading persons to the gratification of present appetite, or the re- moval of present suffering, with little or no consi- deration of the future. Hence the whole wretched system of temporizing which flatters the patient, and is a disgrace to the profession. A man shall be grossly ignorant of the whole science of medi- cine, yet if he has a certain degree of assurance, aided by an adequate number of fashionable phrases, some speciousness in decorating mystery, with a determined resolution of flattering his patients by an appearance of great zeal and attachment, and by confirming the good opinion which they enter- tain of their own discernment in the choice of the medicine and diet which they most like, that man shall grow popular and rich under the hourly dere- liction of every principle of truth, honour, and conscience, and become accessory to the daily de- struction of his fellow-creatures. This is the reason why a large party of all ranks is always inclined to favour the most uneducated of the medical pro- fession ; and why the subordinate branches are often preferred, even at an equal expense, to the higher." Notwithstanding these discouraging sentiments, 282 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. Dr. Parry rose, by slow and sure degrees, into fame and fortune. The acute feelings of disap- pointment were for many years placed in abey- ance, and the beneficial consequences of integ- rity, industry, perseverance, and a readiness to exert his extensive knowledge, were amply expe- rienced at the period already assigned as his pro- bationary term. The daily list of his patients, kept from the year 1780 to Oct. 25, 1816, the day which, by a paralytic seizure, terminated his career of public Service, accurately records the opinion which was entertained of his merits, and the ex- tent of his professional emoluments. It appears that during this period nearly the whole catalogue of British nobility and many of the most distin- guished men in the kingdom visited Bath for his advice, and, in their preserved correspondence tes- tify the benefits which they had received from his skill and attention. Itmaynot be altogether without interest and benefit to the junior members of the profession, to lay before them the progressive in- crease which appears to have taken place in Dr. Parry's pecuniary profits. By exhibiting the effects of perseverance and knowledge, in connexion with a steady attention to those higher objects, the inquiry after truth, and an unwearied performance of all the duties of charity, such a view may pre- serve many from unwarrantable expectation, and encourage others under a despondence arising from the inevitable delays and difficulties incident to their professional entrance upon the world. The receipts of Dr. Parry's first year, 1780, were 3QL 19*.; of his second, 1781, 70 7 s > f 1782,-112/. 7*.; of 1783, 162/. 5*. ; 1784, PARKY. 283 239J. 5s. ; of 1785, 443^. 10s.; of 1786, 5521. 9*.; of 1787, 755Z. (.; of 1788, 1533/. 15*. From tlic tenth year of his ] ractice, the amount rapidly increased, and appears to have varied from 300/. to above 600/. per month. Of one day, the receipts for separate attendances were fifty guineas. That Dr. Parry's emoluments might have been still more considerable appears from an important fact, which is also deducible from the same source, and which should be kept in mind by those who would, in other respects, follow his meritorious example. In the year 1805, besides a continued service at public charities, he had given private attendance to 30,000 indigent persons in the city of Bath and its neighbourhood. At the com- mencement of his career he had laid down a prin- ciple, to which he rigorously adhered, never to spare his own pains, nor to refuse his assistance in cases where pecuniary compensation could not easily be afforded. A table, in his own hand- writing, gives a long list of those persons from whom he invariably refused to take fees. It is greatly to be lamented, that, in the medical profession, the power of recording, and of commu- nicating the results of experience is diminished exactly in proportion to the increased opportunities of observation. In the multiplicity of his daily engagements, the eminent practitioner cannot find the requisite leisure for arranging his facts and opinions in such a manner as may best conduce to the public benefit, or to the establishment of im- portant principles. This regret must, in a great degree, be connected with the circumstances in which Dr. Parry was placed. It becomes, how- 284 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. ever, a subject of surprise and admiration, that in the midst of toil and anxiety, in health and in dis- ease, he never deviated from the plan of recording all that was interesting or important in his prac- tice. At the bedside of his patient, in his car- riage, in his walks, or at home, he kept a register of all the facts which might be available to the improvement of his knowledge, and to the confir- mation of his doctrines or principles. In the pre- face to his posthumous works, he alludes to this circumstance. " It cannot be denied that the profession of medicine labours under peculiar disadvantages. The very multiplication of the opportunities of knowledge so harasses and fati- gues by the practice of the art, as often to afford little leisure or inclination to cultivate and extend the science. If to this rule there occur some ex- ceptions, they depend not on any superiority of mental talents, but on early habits of application, on the force of motives, on the felicity of local situation, and on the capacity of the body to en- dure privation and labour without suffering that langour which would impair the energy of the mind. " The business of man is not merely to eat, to drink, to sleep, to enjoy sensual pleasures, and then to lay himself down and die. Exclusively of eternal concerns, every human being should have one great and laudable end in life, which should constitute his chief motive to action, and to which, therefore, all his other occupations should be subservient. Habits of this kind having been long formed, whatever may be the nature of the object in view, or however difficult its attainment, the pursuit is no longer painful. On the contrary, PARUY. 285 the mind associates it with all other trains of thought, reluctantly wanders from it, and returns to it with delight, as to its native home. " Feelings like these which have long made my professional pursuits my greatest pleasure, aided by the wish of emulating some great professional names, and by a strong desire that the world may be the better for me after I shall have left it for ever, have supported me under the privation of domestic and social gratifications, and under exer- ions incessantly pursued through sickness, sorrow, and pain. " The great book of nature, which is alike open to all, and is incapable of deceiving, I have hourly read, and I trust not wholly in vain. During the first twelve or fourteen years of my professional life, I recorded almost every case which occurred to me either in private practice or in the chief conduct of an extensive charity. When, after- wards, the multiplication of common examples seemed to me an unnecessary waste of inestimable time, which might be much more profitably em- ployed, I contented myself with the more useful task of recording chiefly such cases, or, on a few occasions, such particular circumstances only of cases as led to the establishment of principles. This I have generally done on the spot, or rarely deferred beyond the day of observation, always rejecting what, on repeated and varied inquiry, I have not been able fully to verify. " Whatever inferences from phenomena have suggested themselves to me, I have immediately noted down, and afterwards carefully examined on all sides, and in every light. By this method, BRITISH PHYSICIANS. which I strenuously recommend to all persons engaged in scientific pursuits, whether physical or moral, I have often been able to ascertain the order of phenomena, and to catch new links which have gone some way towards completing the whole chain of causes and effects. " Under these circumstances, I hare been able to record a considerable number of dissections, together with nearly seven hundred illustrative cases, which chiefly serve as the basis of my in- tended work. " Far, however, am I from looking back on iny professional life without considerable self-reproach and regret. How often have opportunities been neglected of ascertaining points essential to the discovery of inestimable truths, for which my re- cords are now searched in rain ! It may, perhaps, be some excuse, that the error is common to me with many others of mankind, who at an early period of experimental investigation are ignorant of what is wanting to the advancement of the science which they profess." The work to which allusion is here made was a System of Pathology and Therapeutics, which Dr. Parry had contemplated from an early period of his professional life. Dissatisfied with many of the principles which regulated the usual practice, and with the want of success which too frequently attended their adoption, he rejected many of the doctrines of the schools, and determined to rely upon his own observation and judgment. In his first inquiries respecting the nature and affections of the nervous system, he discovered much ob- scurity, and much gratuitous assumption, which PARRY. 287 led to practical results always doubtful, and gene- rally injurious. In tlie midst of these difficulties, he was induced to examine the effects of the cir- culating system, in its relation to many obscure morbid affections of the brain and nerves. In this system, he perceived a frequent and palpable origin of that irritation which became an imme- diate cause of many nervous affections ; and from the management of the same system, derived a new and more available means of relief than could be obtained under the common doctrines and practice. The first notice of Dr. Parry's observa- tions on this subject appears in the Memoirs of the London Medical Society, for 1788, in an Essay to which their silver medal was adjudged. This paper contains the first hints of a theory, which it was the author's intention subsequently to develop, at great length, on the subject of what has been called " determination of blood " to va- rious parts of the system : with a more particular reference to its effects in the production of diseases of the head, and of all those ^affections which are denominated nervous. This doctrine became the constant object of his attention, and while it guided his practice, formed also the point towards which were directed his collections of facts and histories. On the same subject he addressed a letter to the editors of the Analytical Review, and in the Monthly Magazine of May and June, 1798, vindicated his opinions against the arguments of Mr. John Bell, in his General System of Anatomy. Pursuing the same views, he published a paper in the Philosophical Transactions of 1811, on the Effects of Arterial Compression; and, in 1815, 283 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. gave to the world an epitome of his opinions in a first volume of " Elements of Pathology and Therapeutics; or the Outlines of a Work intended to ascertain the Nature, Causes, and most Effi- cacious Modes of Prevention and Cure of the greater number of the Diseases incidental to the Human Frame, illustrated by numerous Cases and Dissections." This first volume contained the ge- neral pathology. In the preface, Dr. Parry says, " The author of the following work has long been in the habit of recording such facts connected with the profession of medicine as have occurred to his own observation, and have appeared to him calcu- lated to amend received errors, or to suggest new truths. These facts, it has been his intention to arrange, as soon as a sufficient number should be collected to admit of being disposed in a distinct and consistent form. The immediate exigencies of his profession have, however, so retarded the accomplishment of this design, that he every day sees announced, as novelties, opinions, which for thirty years have formed the basis of his practice. If, however, this anticipation may have occasioned him some loss of credit, it has been fully compen- sated by the advantage which the delay has af- forded, of scrutinizing specious hypotheses, and correcting hasty misconceptions. Sufficient time has now been allowed for all the purposes of ob- servation which the author can reasonably expect to accomplish during what may remain to him of physical and mental capacity : and he thinks that he cannot employ his leisure better, than in giving an epitome of his pathological and practical prin- ciples ; reserving the recital of the very numerous PARRY. 289 cases and dissections, which are the proofs of those principles, for a much larger work, which he has long meditated, and which he still hopes that he may he ahle one day to accomplish." This first volume of " General Pathology " was intended to precede a second, including " General Therapeu- tics." The larger work would have comprehended the special application of his principles and opinions to the various diseases of the human frame. In the midst of health and activity, Dr. Parry was, in 18J6, arrested by the hand of disease, and thus terminated his career of public service and utility. It may be considered a fortunate circumstance, that the fears and anticipations of his friends had induced him to address his serious thoughts to the preparation of an epitome of his opinions. The public would otherwise have been deprived even of this imperfect gift, and the exertions and ex- perience of an active life would have been com- paratively thrown away. Little, indeed, would have remained to do justice to his own memory, or to vindicate his claims and practice against the charges Avhich ignorance is apt to lay against in- novation, and the appearance of superiority. During the previous years, Dr. Parry had, it is true, become the author of other medical works. In 1799, he published an " Inquiry into the Symptoms and Causes of the Syncope Anginosa, commonly called Angina Pectoris, illustrated by Dissections ;" in which, after examining into the causes of idiopathic syncope in general, he draws the following conclusions, with regard to this par- ticular disease. I. That it is a case of syncope, preceded by notable anxiety or pain in the region u 290 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. of the heart. II. That the tendency to this dis- order arises from mal-organization in the heart itself; which mal-organization seems to be chiefly induration of the coronary arteries. III. That this mal-organization acts by diminishing the energy of the heart. IV. That the chief symptoms of the dis- ease are the effects of blood retarded and accumu- lated in the cavities of the heart and neighbouring large vessels. V. That the causes exciting the paroxysms are those which produce this accumu- lation; (1) by mechanical pressure, (2) by stimu- lating, in an excessive degree, the circulating system. VI. That, after a certain approach towards quiescence, the heart may recover its irritability, so as again to carry on the circulation in a more or less perfect degree, from the operation of the usual stimuli ; but, VII. That death may at length ensue from a remediless degree of inirritability in the heart. In the year 1809, Dr. Parry published, in the Edinburgh Medical and Surgical Journal, "Ob- servations on the Utility of Venesection in Pur- pura," which he considered to be " of the nature of what are called active haemorrhages ; since it matters not, in a pathological view, whether febrile extravasation of blood takes place from the rup- ture or gaping of an artery, in the cellular mem- brane, in the skin, or on the surface of the epithelion in the nose, fauces, or bronchia." The cases adduced " strengthened an opinion which he, more than twenty years before, maintained, and which a large subsequent experience had tended to confirm, that in various diseases, among which may be reckoned inflammations, profluvia, haemor- PARRY. 291 rhages, dropsies, exanthemata, and other cutaneous eruptions, and even the generality of nervous affections, there is one circumstance, in common, which is an over-distension of certain blood ves- sels, arising, probably, from their relative want of tone, or the due contraction of their muscular fibres." In the year 1814, Dr. Parry published Cases of Tetanus and Rabies Contagiosa, having adopted the latter term in preference to that of hydrophobia, which he considered an improper designation, as applicable only to a single symptom of this formi- dable disease, " without the existence of which the patient would as certainly, and probably as soon die, as when it exists in the greatest degree." He showed that the part primarily affected is not the pharynx, oesophagus, or stomach, but the upper portion of the trachea, together with other parts of the apparatus concerned in the function of respira- tion. He considered the characteristic circum- stances to be a local spasm, and convulsive action of the respiratory organs ; an inordinate action of the voluntary muscles, whether from a per- verted function of the brain, or a want of power in the muscles themselves precisely to obey the will. There cannot, he thinks, be a greater mistake than to suppose, either that the fever of hydro-- phobia is of the inflammatory kind, or that its peculiar symptom arises from local inflammation of the fauces, the cardia, or any other part. While from experience and analogy he discovers no guide to practice, and believes that all means have hitherto been ineffectual in the true canine hydrophobia, which he considers to be the effect u2 292 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. of a poison introduced into the system, be is of opinion that the only security lies in the preven- tion of the disease, by the excision of the bitten part at any period before constitutional symp- toms have commenced. In this work, as in his S} 7 ncope Anginosa, the chief object was to esta- blish pathognomic distinctions by which the nature and symptoms of the disease might be accurately determined, as the safest guides for the adoption of remedial measures, more perfect and effectual. In 1816, Dr. Parry published his last medical work, " An Experimental Inquiry into the Nature, Causes, and Varieties of the Arterial Pulse, and into certain other properties of the large Arteries in Animals with warm blood." This work, im- portant in its application to physiology, pathology, and surgery, leads to conclusions as to the usual state and relative proportions of the moving powers of arteries very different from those of preceding physiologists. While the experiments fully prove a power of dilatation and contraction not only to exist, but to be owing to a cause partly mechanical, elasticity and partly vital, or what the author calls tonicity, he shows that the power which in muscles is called irritability, is entirely wanting in the arterial tubes, which suffer no degree of con- traction from the application of a great variety of chemical and mechanical agents, called stimuli. They further show, that, in the larger arteries, there is no sensible dilatation or contraction from the systole and diastole of the left ventricle of the heart, and therefore that the pulse cannot depend on that alternation; that the chief cause of the PARRY. 293 pulse is a strong and predominant impulse of dis- tension from the systole of the left ventricle of the heart, given by the blood as it passes through any portion of an artery forcibly contracted within its natural diameter ; and that the visible pulse is sometimes owing to a locomotion of the vessel, unconnected with contraction and dilatation. Dr. Parry's experiments also demonstrate the curious fact of an entire reproduction of the larger arteries, in cases where large portions of the caro- tids in sheep had been cut out, or where the arte- ries had been tied by ligatures. The various doctrines and opinions of this au- thor have been, as it was natural to expect, sub- jected to the severe tests of critical scrutiny and examination. The last effort of his pen was a reply to the observations of Dr. Wilson Philip, in a Letter addressed, 1816, to the Editor of the " Medical and Chirurgical Review." A consi- deration of the objections and arguments which have been opposed to Dr. Parry's doctrines appears in a work of his son, published in 1819, and en- titled, " Additional Experiments on the Arteries ;" and more particularly in a preface and introductory volume to the posthumous writings of Dr. Parry, published by the same editor, in 1825. Without wishing to enforce an entire and unqualified defer- ence to the opinions of his father, this latter author considers himself " excused for an attempt, in connexion with the rep ubli cation of Dr. Parry's former works, and the publication of much new matter, to rescue him from objections which ap- pear to have been advanced in haste, in ignorance, or in error." In this preface, an account is given 294 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. of the heterogeneous materials which were left in the editor's hands, and of the principle on which a selection for publication was made. However true it may be, that these posthumous fragments confer no additional reputation on their author, and that they fall short of the expectations of the public, it has never been denied that they supply an ample store of valuable materials for reflection, and abundant hints that may assist the future labourers in the wide field of medical inquiry. Amongst these imperfect records, Dr. Parry's pre- face to his intended volume, which appears in a more complete form, may, perhaps, be considered one of his most important productions. It consists of an inquiry into the nature of human knowledge, and the means of attaining it; and into the me- chanism of cause and effect, with a particular re- ference to the science of medicine. It was his opinion, that "above all, it is essentially requisite that the physician should learn the art of reason- ing, or that facility of distinguishing or rightly classing ideas which must necessarily flow from the habitual application of the mental faculties to various branches of science, and which he who has been merely occupied with what is called the practice of the profession, can rarely hope to possess." As a practitioner, he was distinguished by a clear insight into the nature of various maladies, by promptness and decision in their treatment, and by a marked humility and kindness to his patients. In his professional connexions and relations he was eminently liberal, and, at the same time, independent. While he treated his PARRY. 295 medical brethren and his patients with candour and deference, he would submit to no improper dictation ; nor, for the purpose of retaining a friend, or of conciliating a foe, submit to any measure which was inconsistent with the strictest integrity. In his opinion, the qualities of the gentleman and really honest man were neces- sarily associated in the character of the perfect physician. Though the subject of our memoir was widely known and estimated in this his principal ca- pacity, it is perhaps true, that he was no less celebrated as one of the most scientific agricul- turists of his day. " As a lover of agricultural objects, he was rewarded by the distinctions of many societies, and cultivated as a friend or as a correspondent by men of all ranks, the most emi- nent for their practical or theoretical acquaintance with the diversified subjects of natural and moral economy." In the years 1786-7 he became pos- sessor of a farm in the neighbourhood of Bath, and within a walk of his town residence. It was impossible for a mind, constituted as his, to pur- sue the routine, and to witness the effects, of agri- cultural operations, without attending, at the same time, to the principles w r hich regulate the science, and which should direct the practice. Hence every walk to his farm, intended as a means of occasional relaxation from severe professional pursuits, gave occasion to some interesting investigation ; and every crop became the source of inquiry into the means of additional increase, or of economical improvement. Among other subjects which at an early period came under Dr. Parry's consideration, 296 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. an inquiry as to the most profitable kind of stock, with reference to his own circumstances of soil and situation, engaged his principal attention. After a cautious examination of the question, he decided in favour of a breed of sheep which, by its hardiness, should not require peculiar care or expense of food, and by the superiority of its fleece, should more than counterbalance any possible deficiencies of weight or carcass. In the second part of his Essay on the Merino Sheep (p. 97,) to which the Board of Agriculture adjudged their highest premium, Dr. Parry has, at considerable length, given the history of his flock, and his original views in regard to it. This account is particularly interesting as connect- ing his name with those of several individuals of the highest rank, who had then conceived the de- sign of introducing into this kingdom, upon an extended scale, the breed of fine-woolled sheep. From this period, during the remainder of an active life, this specific object was pursued by Dr. Parry with consummate skill, and with unwearied assi- duity. That his endeavours were successful, is manifest from the event of the frequent competi- tions in which he was engaged with the breeders and manufacturers of the finest home and foreign wools and cloths, and from the various prizes which, during many successive years, were awarded to his exhibitions. In the year 1800, his late Majesty accepted a piece of blue cloth manufac- tured from Dr. Parry's wool, and declared that, from its excellent quality, he should feel a pride in wearing it. In 1813, the Prince Regent and the Duke of Clarence also gratified Dr. Parry by accepting, the former a piece of scarlet, the latter PARRY. 297 of navy-blue cloth ; both of which they highly commended, and expressed their determination to wear, as a credit to the British grower and manu- facturer. The following is, it is feared, an imperfect list of Dr. Parry's various agricultural writings. In the volumes of the Bath and West of Eng- land Society are the following papers : Vol. III. (1786, 1791.) Experiments and Ob- servations on English Rhubarb. Vol. V. (1794.) An Essay on the Cultivation and Value of the Cichoreum Intybus, or Wild Endive. Vol. IX. (1799.) Account of a Prize Crop of Cabbages. Vol. X. (1805.) Two Addresses on the subjects of improved Sheep by the Spanish Mixture, their Wool, and its Value in Superfine Cloth, &c. Vol. XI. Six various Papers : (1) A Letter containing further Observations on Wool. (2) An Inquiry whether the pure Merino Breed of Sheep is now necessary in order to maintain the Growth of Superfine Wool in Great Britain. (3) Tables of the Female Descendants from One Hundred Shearling Ewes, during Twenty Years. (4) An Inquiry into the Causes of the Decay of Wood, and the means of preventing it. (5) Correspondence relative to a very fertile Piece of Land at Wantage, in Berkshire, with remarks. (6) Additional Observations on the Crossing of Animals. 298 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. The following Papers, by Dr. Parry, were pub- lished in the " Farmer's Journal : " Vol. V., No. 255, Aug. 17, 1812. On Purity of Blood, and on Growing Fine Wool. No. 257, Aug. 31, 1812. On Purity of Blood. No. 260, Sept. 21, 1812. On Wool, and the Causes that affect its Quality and Quantity on the same Sheep. Vol. VI., No. 262, Oct. 5, 1812. fOn the Ques- tion whether the Merinos are a Pure Breed, and on the Effects produced by Crossing. No. 265, Oct. 26, 1812. On the Effects of Food, Fear, and Habit on Animals, and of the Agency of Man, illustrated by the English Race- Horse. No. 266, Nov. 2, 1812. Observations on the English Race-Horse. Crossing beneficial in other Animals and Man. No. 272, Dec. 14, 1812. On the Merino Subject. In the Bath Herald, Nov. 1, 1804, Dr. Parry published a long defence of his friend, Lord So- merville, in answer to an attack there made upon him, with regard to the subject of his flock. In the year 1800, Dr. Parry published a sepa- rate work, entitled " Facts and Observations tend- ing to show the Practicability and Advantage of producing, in the British Isles, Clothing Wool equal to that of Spain :" and in the year 1807, the Board of Agriculture published, in their Transactions, an Essay on the Nature, Produce, Origin, and Extension of the Merino Breed of Sheep ; to which they had awarded their premium PARRY. 299 of 50/. The Report of the Board, through their secretary, Arthur Young, is as follows : " The author divides his memoir into two parts ; the first contains an historical and descriptive account of Spanish sheep, and their establishment in the va- rious countries to which they have been sent. (This is the most interesting and complete ac- count I have met with. A. Y.") The second part contains the history of his own flock and practice, and includes in it the whole business of breeding, food, management, wool, carcass, sale, and distempers, with observations on the means of spreading the race. It is a most able and highly satisfactory production, and will do honour to the author who composed it, and to the Board, if they shall publish it. A. Y. On the 28th of November, 1808, the following resolution was adopted by the Farming Society of Ireland " Resolved, that Caleb Hillier Parry, M. D., F. R. S., be, and he is hereby elected, an honorary member of this society, in testimony of our respect for the author of the useful and inge- nious Essay on the Nature, Produce, Origin, and Extension of the Merino Breed of Sheep." Dr. Parry took particular delight in horticulture ; and very voluminous MSS. indicate the minute attention which he paid to the varieties and im- provement of fruit-trees, and to every other subject connected with the cultivation and management of a garden. It has been truly said, that, for many years, Dr. Parry was more allied to the public by the variety of his other accomplishments and pursuits, than by those of his immediate profession. It 300 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. would not be easy to adduce an instance of higher endowments, whether we look for the resources and refinements of ordinary society, or the more profound attainments of intellectual and cultivated life. His intimate acquaintance with the arts of music, poetry, and painting, and his enthusiasm with regard to each of these subjects, are well remembered by those who knew him. From their cultivation he derived solace and amusement after many a weary day of toil and anxiety. In all subjects of natural history he was particu- larly interested, and had made extensive collections of minerals, rocks, and organic remains. Whilst the sciences to which these related were yet in their infancy, he had amassed materials which would have grown into volumes, and have supplied impor- tant records in the history of these favourite depart- ments of inquiry. In 1781 he published " Propo- sals for a History of the Fossils of Gloucestershire," the introduction to which was intended to include all that was known on the subject of organic re- mains, and the result of many experiments and ob- servations in which he had been long and ardently engaged. His increasing avocations suspended, and finally prevented, the completion of this work ; but his remaining MSS. are a sufficient proof of his industry, knowledge, and discrimination. Dr. Parry was an indefatigable reader. Besides a continued attention to more severe subjects, he had an intense pleasure in the perusal of works relating to history, voyages, and travels. Of the latter, particularly, there was scarcely a published volume with which he was not familiar. With the classical poets and ancient dramatists of England PARRY. 301 he was thoroughly conversant. Amongst his last writings was an Essay on the Character of Hamlet, which, even in the midst of an afflicting illness, he dictated to his daughters. His accurate acquaintance with the history and relations of his own and other countries had ren- dered him the esteemed friend and correspondent of Burke and of Wmdham. Letters, addressed to the latter, on the internal defence of Great Britain at the time of a threatened invasion, and on the recommendation of spearmen or lancers, and light artillery, are still in existence. His insight into our commercial relations is evinced by a series of letters which point out the importance of our South American trade, particularly that of the colonies of Demerara, Essequibo, and Berbice ; and which, in 1796, were published in the " Sun," under the signature " Nereus." As a metaphy- sician, few individuals possessed a clearer head, or a more profound judgment. Many MSS. remain which exhibit his own originality, his admiration of Locke, and the low esteem in which he gene- rally held the philosophy of the Scotch school. Dr. Parry's correspondence was very extensive, as well on the subject of medicine, as of agricul- ture, gardening, and other topics. Many ad- mirable letters, addressed to two of his sons, who were spending three or four years on the Continent, and to his youngest son, in the navy, indicate his paternal care and affection, and the value of his -precepts and advice. In person Dr. Parry was remarkably handsome. With much dignity of manner he united a certain playfulness, which, while through life it had 302 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. invigorated and charmed his domestic circle, scarcely deserted him under the severest trials and amidst the heaviest afflictions. His miscel- laneous reading, extensive knowledge of men and manners, and an excellent memory, supplied, in his intercourse with society, a constant fund of amusing anecdote, and of appropriate allusion. From an intimate acquaintance with many cele- brated military and naval characters, he had be- come remarkably conversant with the details and adventures of their profession ; and scarcely a battle had occurred during the preceding century, with the minute circumstances of which he was not acquainted. In the " Athenaeum," (vol. v.) for April, 1809, is a Letter, which states the claims of his friend, Lord Rodney, to the inven- tion of breaking the line. During a severe illness, of nearly six years' duration, he amused himself with dictating anecdotes of many distinguished friends and contemporaries, which might well de- serve a place in a more extended memoir. Dr. Parry was an early member of the Bath and West of England Society of Agriculture, Arts, Manufactures, and Commerce (1780). As a member of its committees, as a contributor to its volumes, and as a successful candidate for its pre- miums, he was, for many years, one of its prin- cipal supporters. In 1797, he was elected a vice-president, and in 1817 was honoured with the gold Bedford medal, as a mark of esteem and gratitude for many past services. In 1782 he was chosen a governor of the Bath General Hospital : in 1800, elected a fellow of the Royal Society : in 1801, a member of the Society of Natural His- PARRY. 303 tory at Gb'ttingen, (Physische Gesellschaft) : in 1808, an honorary member of the Farming Society of Ireland : and in 1814, a vice-president of the Merino Society of London. Dr. Parry had four sons and five daughters ; of the former, the illustrious navigator, Captain Sir William Edward Parry, R. N., is the youngest. Dr. Parry died at his house in Sion Place, Bath, on the 9th of March, 1822, having removed thither from his usual residence, the Circus, in April, 1817. On the 25th of October, 181 6, he had been afflicted with a paralytic attack, which deprived him of the use of his right side ; and during the remainder of his life, a period of nearly six years, rendered his speech imperfect, and almost unintel- ligible. Though his existence was become a state of complicated bodily disease and suffering, his mental activity never deserted him. He occupied himself in reading during many hours of the day, and marked every interesting passage that occurred to him. From these he caused the most valuable parts to be transcribed by his daughters, and in this manner formed several volumes of useful and miscellaneous information. His professional life being ended, his chief occupation and amusement now consisted in his farm and in his gardens the entire direction and management of which he undertook. Under these circumstances, he dic- tated the collection of anecdotes and reminiscences to which allusion has above been made ; and on the arrival of his son. Captain Parry, from his first expedition to Melville Island, he revised the whole of his First Journal, previously to its being submitted to publication. 304 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. It has been truly said, that " Dr. Parry was a sincere believer in Christianity, an excellent hus- band, father, and friend, devoted to his king, and firmly attached to the constitution of his country." No one in his sphere died more regretted. Many of his friends, and a very numerous assem- blage of his professional brethren, at their own request, attended his venerated remains to their grave in the Abbey. The latter caused a hand- some monument, bearing the following inscription, to be erected to his memory. H. S. E. CALEB HILLIER PARRY, M. D., R. S. S. Vir probus Cultor Dei pius Medicus sagax. Artem qua pollebat, In h&c urbe per annos fere XL Ingenio, moribus, Multiplici literarum cognitione, Exornavit : Sciential, naturae indagatione perspicaci, Feliciter promovit. Ne tanto nomini Ulla pars observantiae Desideraretur, Amici, eadem arte consociati, Hor marmor P. C. Vixit annos LXVL, Obt. IX. die mens. Mart. A. S. 1822. 305 G C H, ROBERT GOOCH Avas born at Yarmouth, in Norfolk, in June, 1784. His father Avas, early in life, a master in the Royal Navy, and afterwards com- manded a vessel in the merchant service. The circumstances of his parents were not such as to enahle them to give their son the advantages of a classical education : he was sent as a day scholar to a school kept by a Mr. Nicholls, Avhere he Avas taught Avriting and arithmetic. As a boy he Avas active and brave, though not strong ; his disposition Avas affectionate, and he Avas much beloved by his early associates ; some of his school-boy intimacies continued to the time of his death. He was not remarkable for early proficiency : neither quick- ness of apprehension nor retentiveness of memory seemed to distinguish him from ordinary boys. When about fifteen years of age he AA-as appren- ticed to Mr. Borrett, a surgeon and apothecary at Yarmouth. At this time he began the study of Latin, and Avith little or no assistance from others taught himself to read that language with tolerable facility. Among some loose papers of his, on the subject of dreams, occurs the folloAving passage, Avhich gives so lively an image of this period of his life, that it must not be omitted. " From the age of fifteen to twenty-one I Avas x 306 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. an apprentice to a country surgeon, and when I had nothing else to do, no pills to roll, nor mix- tures to compose, I used, by the advice of my master, to go up into my bed-room, and there, with Cheselden before me, learn the anatomy of the bones by the aid of some loose ones, together with a whole articulated skeleton, which hung up in a box at the foot of my bed. It was some time be- fore I overcame the awe with which I used to approach this formidable personage. At first, even by daylight, I liked to have s me one in the room during my interviews with him ; and at night, when I laid down in my bed and beheld the painted door which inclosed him, I was often obliged to make an effort to think of something else. One summer night, at my usual hour of retiring to rest, I went up to my bed-room, it was in the attic story, and overlooked the sea, not a quarter of a mile off. It was a bright moonlight night, the air was sultry ; and after undressing I stood for some time at my window, looking out on the moonlight sea, and watching a white sail which now and then passed. I shall never have such another bed-room, so high up, so air}', and com- manding such a prospect ; or, probably, even if I had, it would never again look so beautiful, for then was the spring-time of my life, when the gloss of novelty was fresh on all the objects which sur- rounded me. and I looked with unmingled hope upon the distant world. Now but I am rambling from my story. I went to bed, the moonlight which fell bright into my room showed me dis- tinctly the panelled door behind which hung my silent acquaintance ; I could not help thinking of coocn. 307 him I tried to think of something else Lut in vain. I shut my eyes, and began to forget my- self, when, whether I was awake or asleep, or between both, I cannot tell but suddenly I felt two bony hands grasp my ancles, and pull me down the bed ; if it had been real it could not have been more distinct. For some time, how long I cannot tell, I almost fainted with terror, but when I came to myself, I began to observe how I was placed : if what I had felt had been a reality, I must have been pulled half-way out of the bed, but I found myself lying with my head on my pillow, and my body in the same place and atti- tude as when I shut my eyes to go to sleep. At this moment this is the only proof which 1 have that it was not a reality, but a dream." An accidental acquaintance with a gentleman of the name of Harley, which took place at this time, had a great and lasting influence on Gooch's character. Mr. Harley was about thirty years of age, and nearly blind ; he was fond of rending, and from the state of his eyes dependent upon others for his literary enjoyments. His studies were miscellaneous history, chemistry, some- times medicine, and very often metaphysics. Gooch used to pass most of his evenings in read- ing aloud to Mr. Harley. Amongst the books so read were Bishop Berkeley's Works, Hartley, and Hume's Essays. Mr. Harley used to discuss the subjects of their reading with his young friend, and being a man of acute intellect, ho called into action those faculties of mind in \\bich Gooch was by nature most gifted. At a com- paratively early age he became accustomed to x 2 308 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. reason on abstract subjects, and to take nothing for granted : unquestionably this was not without its disadvantages and dangers, but had it not been for his accidental acquaintance with Harley, Gooch might perhaps have neglected altogether the cultivation of his reasoning powers at the time of life when that cultivation is most important ; so fully impressed was he with this fact, that he always felt grateful to Mr. Harley ; paid him every attention during life, and bequeathed him WOl. at his death, as a proof of his regard. When, in the autumn of 1824, Gooch revisited Yarmouth, after an absence of many years, his attention to his early friend was most marked. The evening of his arrival he was eager to call upon him, and when it was suggested, that it was late and dark, he exclaimed, that he could find the house blind- fold : he groped his way down the narrow rows, and recognized with delight the old broken brass knocker, which remained unchanged. While Gooch was with Mr. Borrett the attack upon Copenhagen took place, and on the return of Lord Nelson, the wounded were placed in the Na- val Hospital at Yarmouth. Being acquainted with some of the young surgeons, Gooch, though then but "a boy, was not unfrequently at the hospital. " I was (he says in a letter written long afterwards) at the Naval hospital at Yarmouth, on the morn- ing when Nelson, after the battle at Copenhagen, (having sent the wounded before him,) arrived at the roads and landed on the jutty. The populace soon surrounded him, and the military were drawn up in the market-place ready to receive him, but, making his way through the dust, and the crowd, GOOCH. 309 and the clamour, he went straight to the hospital. I went round the wards with him, and was much interested in observing his demeanour to the sailors : he stopped at every bed, and to every man he had something kind and cheering to say ; at length he stopped opposite a bed on which a sailor was lying, who had lost his right arm close to the shoulder joint, and the following short dia- logue passed between them. Nelson ' "Well, Jack, what's the matter with you ? ' Sailor ' Lost my right arm, your honour.' Nelson paused, looked down at his own empty sleeve, then at the sailor, and said, playfully, ' Well, Jack, then you and I are spoiled for fishermen cheer up, my brave fellow !* And he passed briskly on to the next bed; but these few words had a magical effect upon the poor fellow, for I saw his eyes sparkle with delight as Nelson turned away and pursued his course through the wards." Gooch, while occasionally visiting the Naval Hospital, became acquainted with Mr. Tupper, (af- terwards an eminent practitioner in London,) who was then connected with the Government Hospitals at Yarmouth. This gentleman was more advanced in his medical education than Gooch, having at- tended the Borough hospitals. He possessed a manuscript copy of Mr. Astley Cooper's Lectures, which he lent to his young friend, by whom they were eagerly transcribed. Little at that time could he have anticipated the probability of coming, at a comparatively early period of life, into contact with the leading practitioners of his age, and taking his place amongst them upon no unequal footing; still less that he should pass 310 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. aivav before them, ripe in fame, but immature in years " Nescia mens hominum fati," and happy are we in our ignorance. Before he removed from Mr. Borrett's, Gooch became acquainted with Mr. William Taylor, of Norwich, a man whose name is indissolubly con- nected with the literature of his age, and who has al\vays delighted in assisting with his counsels, his librar}-, and his purse, young men to whom na- ture had been more bountiful than fortune, and in whom he thought he could discover promise of future excellence. If he was sometimes mistaken, he was not so in Gooch's case, and theirs was a life-long intimacy. Notwithstanding the limited circumstances of Gooch's family, aggravated by the detention of his father in a French prison, great sacrifices were made by his mother and an aunt, advanced in years, in order to send him to Edinburgh ; and with scanty means he arrived there, landing from a Leith smack in October, 1804. He was known only to one person in Edinburgh, Mr. Henry Southey, who was a year his senior at that university, and to him he came, as it were, consigned. They had been acquainted, as boys, at Yarmouth. At this time, Gooch was remarkably shy, and rather helpless in worldly matters ; it was in fact his first flight from home, and he felt that everything around him was new and strange. A few weeks reconciled him to his new situation, and no one ever entered upon his academical studies with a more fixed determination to profit by the advantages which the place afforded. During the first season he rarely, if ever, missed a lecture : he attended the GOOCII. 311 Royal Infirmary, and became a member of the Medical and Speculative Societies. In these societies lie very soon acquired the power of ex- pressing himself with tolerable facility; but be spoke much better the second year than the first, and before the end of the third session, few men were more formidable debaters. He never affected - to declaim, but he was a close reasoner, and a most unsparing opponent. On one occasion, when a medical coxcomb had written a paper, as full of pretension as it was void of merit, Gooch so severely handled him in the debate, that he burst into tears, and left the meeting. Though, at this part of his life, he was in private society remarkably shy in the company of strangers, in public speaking he was perfectly confident and self-possessed. During the first season of his abode at Edin- burgh, he associated almost exclusively with Mr. Lockyer, who afterwards settled as a physician at Plymouth ; Mr. Fearon, who had been in Egypt, as surgeon to the Coldstream, and had returned nearly blind from the ophthalmia, and who afterwards practised as a physician at Suri- derland ; (a man whom no one could know without loving cheerful and liberal, full of know- ledge, with a clear head and a warm heart, free from every selfish feeling;) and Mr. Henry Southey: the very different characters of these individuals may have contributed in no trifling degree to their intimacy. The sole survivor of . the party still looks back to their convivial meet- ings with a conviction that they did not owe their charm merely to the joyous period of life at which 312 BRITISH PHYSICIANS, they occurred. In May most of the students leave Edinburgh ; and the ensuing summer was an eventful one to Gooch. He returned to Yarmouth, and passed a part of the vacation at Norwich, with Mr. William Taylor, with whose aid he began the study of German; but during this summer he had other occupations besides that study. He became acquainted with Miss Emily Boling- broke, and soon formed an attachment which became mutual. She was an elegant, accom- plished, sensitive, and fragile creature ; one of those beings who shrink from notice, and can only be appreciated by those who know them inti- mately. To a man of Gooch's temperament, always disposed to take a gloomy view of his own affairs, an engagement, the accomplishment of which depended upon his professional success, did not contribute to immediate happiness ; nothing, however, could be more liberal than the conduct of the young lady's friends ; they looked to the pro- bability of his success with far more confidence than he did, and allowed a correspondence to con- tinue, which, under the relative circumstances of the parties, more worldly-minded parents would have forbidden. When he returned to Edinburgh the following autumn, after a loss of some weeks at Cambridge, (whither he had gone, upon er- roneous information respecting the probability of his obtaining a medical fellowship,) Gooch first evinced that disposition to melancholy which never afterwards left him. He was, at times, as cheerful as any man, but the habitual, every day tendency of his mind was to despondency ; he never spoke of his own prospects in life without GOOCH. 313 expressing an exaggerated notion of the diffi- culties he should have to encounter. In the course of this winter he had some slight attacks of asthma, to which ever after he was occa- sionally liable. This year he lived in the same house with his former associates, Fearon and Southey, and became acquainted with his future friend and pa- tron, Dr., afterwards Sir William Knighton : Gooch was not slow to appreciate the profound sagacity and commanding power over the minds of others, which so remarkably characterized this distin- guished person. Through the whole of his after life he was accustomed, in all matters of import- ance, to apply to Sir William Knighton for advice. The summer of Ift06 was passed by Gooch in Norfolk, nearly as the former had been, in the society of Miss Bolingbroke and the study of mo- dern languages. Whilst he was at Yarmouth,, the French frigate, La Guerriere, was captured and brought into the Roads by the Clyde, and the sick and wounded of both vessels were sent ashore to the hospitals. This extraordinary number of patients was too much for the ordinary number of medical attendants, and Gooch was requeste4 to assist them. In a letter to a friend he relates the following anecdote. " Among my patients was a French sailor who had received a splinter wound in the leg, which had split the principal bone up into the knee, and produced violent in- flammation of the joint; his constitution, after a time, beginning to give way, it was thought neces- sary to sacrifice his limb in order to save his life, and it was accordingly amputated above the knee- joint. The stump did well, and all danger from 314 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. this quarter was at an end, but from long lying on his back the flesh upon his loins began to ulce- rate and mortify, and the mortification spread extensively : this is a common occurrence to pa- tients who are long confined to one posture in bed, and as the ulceration arises from pressure, it is not likely to heal while the pressure continues. "With a good deal of difficulty I lifted the poor fellow upon his side ; he was sadly wasted about the hips, and lest they should ulcerate too, as soon as he was tired of lying on one side, he was turned on the other. In this way I contrived to keep him from lying upon his ulcerated loins ; it is not easy to conceive, however, the difficulty of keep- ing a person in this situation continually on his side ; he lies very well when first turned upon it, but in a little time the posture gets uneasy, he ceases to support himself, and insensibly he turns into a new position ; a few hours after having placed him completely on his side, you will find him turned almost on his back, without his being aware of it. It required a good deal of care and contrivance to obviate this difficulty, but the difficulty was obviated, all pressure was taken off the sloughing surfaces, and I soon had the pleasure of seeing the wound become florid, healthy, and beginning to heal. But the time was now come for me to leave the hospital, and deliver up all my patients into the hands of an- other attendant. At the end of a fortnight I re- turned to Yarmouth to take ship for Edinburgh, find of course walked down to the hospital to see how Pierre (the poor Frenchman) and my other patients were going on. His e} - e happened to be on tlie door as I entered the ward ; lie im- mediately caught sight of me, and clasping his hands with a cry of joy, turned his face upon the pillow, and burst into tears. He knew I was to return in my way to Edinburgh he had been looking for me every day he felt that he should die, and now he said that he should die happy. During my fortnight's absence the poor fellow was dreadfully altered, and looked as if he would soon verify his own prognostic. He had not been neglected, in the common acceptation of the term among hospital surgeons ; he had had the ordinary attention of a naval hospital, but his situation re- quired more ; his new attendant, I dare say, knew as much of surgery as I did, but he felt less inte- rest about him, and had not given him that thought and attention which I bad. He had been suffered to lie continually upon his back ; the wounds on his loins, which I had left clean and florid, were covered with new and extensive sloughs, and his constitution had sunk rnpidly. He was wasted to a skeleton, had become irritable and low-spirited, and did nothing but complain of neglect, cry over his sufferings, and regret the loss of my attend- ance. He was sure he should die, he said, but he should not die happy unless he saw me first. The nurse said that he had been continually talking of me ; he had amused himself Avith writing French verses about me, and was never so cheerful, they said, as when he had his slate in his hand, and was working at his poetry. It was fortunate, at least I am glad, that I came back when I did, for the poor fellow died the night after my return. The affair affected me a good deal I shall never 316 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. forget it. His constitution was so reduced that he might possibly have died under the most care- ful attendance ; but I have often regretted that I did not defer my journey in order to see him fairly through the dangers of his illness." The last winter in which Gooch resided at Edin- burgh, he formed an intimacy with Mr. Travers and Dr. Holland ; he was chiefly occupied in writing his Thesis de Rachitide, preparing for his examination, and exercising himself for that pur- pose with his friend Fearon, in colloquial Latin. It is to be regretted that the custom of examining in Latin should still be continued, particularly in Edinburgh, where the great majority of the stu- dents are very deficient in classical knowledge. Very few even of the best educated men express themselves with facility in Latin, and every candi- date for a degree might have the quantum both of his medical and classical attainments ascertained by a better test than a Latin conversation. In June, 1807, Gooch took his degree of Doctor of Medicine, and immediately afterwards made a tour in the Highlands, with Mr. Travers for his com- panion. During this excursion his health and spirits were better than usual ; he enjoyed the scenery, and the similar circumstances in which he and his friend were placed made them excellent companions. He always looked back to this ex- cursion as one of the most agreeable in his life. From Scotland Gooch returned by sea to Yar- mouth, and remained some months in Norfolk. Feeling the necessity of fitting himself for the practice of every branch of the medical profession, he resolved to pass the winter in the study of coocir. 317 anatomy and sxirgery in London. He therefore became a pupil of Mr. Astley Cooper's and dis- sected diligently in the Borough. Early in the following year he formed a partnership with Mr. James of Croydon, a general practitioner of emi- nence in that neighbourhood. Here Gooch im- mediately entered upon the active duties of his profession ; he had great opportunities of acquir- ing practical knowledge, and soon became a favourite in the families which he attended. Many of the individuals to whom he first became known as a country surgeon were afterwards useful to him in London. It was at the commencement of the year 1808 that Gooch first appeared in the character of a critic. Several of his friends agreed to establish a new medical journal, and he became one of the principal contributors to the London Medical Re- view which existed for about five years, and contained many articles of very considerable merit. The great error of all young reviewers is the abuse of assumed power ; it is gratifying to self-esteem to point out defects, and the youthful critic is more anxious to discover faults than excellencies. Gooch used often at a later period of his life to regret the severity in which he had indulged in some of his earlv essays in this department. His first article was on the subject of insanity; the book reviewed a transla- tion of Pinel. By a singular coincidence the first and the last of his literary labours were on the same subject. There is a paragraph in this review which is so applicable to Gooch's own peculiar conformation of mind that he must have had an 318 BRITISH PHYSICIAN8. eye to himself when he wrote it. " There are some characters," he says, " who are commonly called low-spirited, gloomy, desponding fellows. During an interval of occupation, when the mind is free to range where it pleases, they are con- stantly painting their future lives with a pencil dipped in black. Aware that they possess certain resources of money, knowledge, and patronage, they view their present situation in the same light with the most cheerful of their companions. But the character of the man, the extent of his re- sources, and the usual conduct of the world being given, to find his future lot, he commences his cal- culations with the same assumptions, and differs from them in the conclusion. They deduce suc- cess, he misfortune ; and the consequence is, that he becomes a frequent prey to those sorrowful apprehensions and gloomy emotions which want only strength and permanency to constitute one species of mental disease." At this time Gooch was on the point of marry- ing the woman of his choice, and with a fair pro- spect of success in his profession still he was not happy. Do "coming events cast their shadows before?" and had he a presentiment that in less than three years he should see the object of his fondest affections pine away and die? The lady was not in good health when she married, and though pregnancy suspended the progress of disease, after her confinement she became decidedly consumptive. She lingered for about fifteen months, and died on the 21st of January, 1811. The infant survived its mother about six months, and was buried in the same grave with her. GOOCH. 319 Grievously as Gooch felt this affliction, he did not sink under it. When a man lias suffered the heaviest calamity which can befall him, (not arising from his own misconduct,) there is, after a short time, a sort of re-action, and in the early part of life a spirit of adventure not unfiequently succeeds. Gooch s religious feelings (and they were naturally strong) afforded him the best consolation, and next to religion schemes for a new scene of pro- fessional action. Being now somewhat better off in point of circumstances, he resolved to remove to London, and endeavour to obtain practice as an accoucheur-physician. Several of his friends were already established in the capital, doing well, and disposed to serve him ; he had gained some repu- tation by his writings, and had acquired a con- sciousness of his own powers. There was perhaps no period of his life when he was less inclined to despond with regard to his future success, than that at which he quitted Croydon. Having taken a house in Aldermanbury. be- fore he established himself permanently in Lon- don, he made an excursion into the north of England, in order to visit Dr. Fearon at Sun- derland, and Dr. Henry Sou they at Durham. On this occasion he made the tour of the Eng- lish Lakes, and passed some days with Mr. Southey at Keswick. The poet had seen him at Edin- burgh in the autumn of 1805, as his brother's early and intimate friend, had liked him at first sight, and became more acquainted with him in London, and during his residence at Croydon. He had now better opportunity of appreciating his moral and intellectual worth; and this visit led to an 320 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. intimacy which continued during the remainder of Gooch's life. On his return to London he became a licen- tiate of the Royal College of Physicians, and before the close of the year 1811 he had fairly entered the lists as a candidate for practice in the city. He had chosen the line of accoucheur as that in which his medical friends could most easily assist him. It may be allowable to name those persons to whom he was chiefly indebted for his early introduction into practice ; and, first, Mr. George Young, then an eminent surgeon in the city, a gentleman to whom Gooch ever ex- pressed himself under the greatest obligations, and whom he was accustomed to describe as a most accomplished practitioner, a delightful companion, and an indefatigable friend ; Dr. Babington, to whom Gooch afterwards dedicated his work upon the diseases peculiar to women, and whom he there characterizes most justly : and Sir William Knighton, then in full practice at the west end of the town, to whom, more than to any other indi- vidual, he owed his early success in life. In 1812 Dr. Gooch was elected physician to the Westminster Lying-in Hospital; an appoint- ment which afforded him great opportunities of acquiring a practical knowledge of the difficulties of midwifery. Ordinary cases are in such hospitals attended by the regular nurses and the pupils, but when a difficulty occurs, the physician is sum- moned in proportion to the size of the establish- ment these important cases are more or less fre- quent, and what the private practitioner may meet with but a few times in the course of his life, to GOOCH. 321 a hospital physician is a common occurrence. The advantages of such a situation to Gooch were in- calculable. In a letter to a friend written at this time he speaks thus cheerfully of his own pro- spects : " You will be glad to hear that practice is coming in upon me, in a way and with a rapidity which surprise me ; if its after progress is at all proportionate to its commencement, (of which I feel no doubt,) it will soon carry me out of the reach of pecuniary cares. I have been attending the daughter of one of the most zealous methodists I ever met with ; he never gives me a fee but I find written in red ink on the bank-note some reli- gious sentence. I have now two of these curio- sities lying by me ; on one is written, ' Who shall exist in everlasting burnings?' on the other, ' The wages of sin is death.' There were several others which I cannot remember. I have sent them out into the world to do all possible good, and these will soon follow them." In the course of this year Gooch was elected joint lecturer on midwifery at St. Bartholomew's Hospital, with Dr. Thynne, who was then very infirm, and who died early in the following year. An extract from a letter addressed to Mr. Southey, dated January, 1813, illustrates his state of mind at this period with reference to a second marriage to which that friend had strongly ad- vised him. " One part of your letter produced a deep impression on me. There is no fear, how- ever, but I shall again become a husband, nor will a second attachment become less likely from being deferred another year or two. I am too friendly to marriage in general, too sick of a soli- 322 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. tary fireside, too indisposed to relish even the innocent pursuits which single men depend on for amusement, too thoroughly convinced that gaiety, as it is commonly called, is incapable of affording me pleasure, too disposed to look to the pursuits of knowledge, and the endearments of affection, for my happiness in this world. At present, however, unless I am much mistaken, an attachment would not be desirable for me. Mine is an anxious disposition more given to fear than to hope. During the last year, it is true, I have scarcely known what fear is, but this I refer not to any change in my character, but to an alteration in my circumstances for although I have become an- adventurer, and thrown myself in the way of difficulties, I have always been encou- raged by the thought that even if I failed, my failure would injure no one but myself. Notwith- standing the unexpected degree of my success, I an\ still an adventurer, and shall feel myself to be so until I have gained an income equal to my ex- penses. You- will smile perhaps at the apprehen- siveness of my nature, but such it is, and so far from my being able to mend it, I believe the less I think of it the better it becomes. No domestic enjoyments would compensate to- me for pecuniary anxieties. As long as there remains the slightest uncertainty about my success, so long had I better remain single, not only in fact but in feeling. As soon as I have gained a competent income (which, by the by, becomes the more necessary because I may chance to marry a woman without a fortune, for I shall certainly choose my second wife from the same feelings which led me to my first) when GOOCII. 323 I have a competent income I shall have neither disinclination nor difficulty in again becoming attached, as I have some reason to believe that there is still left in me more susceptibility than I once thought I should ever again possess." At the very time when this letter was written Gooch was forming an attachment to the sister of his friend Mr. Travers, and notwithstanding all his prudent resolutions, soon became convinced that he should best consult his own happiness by expediting his marriage with a person every Avay qualified to make him happy. There was, indeed, nothing imprudent in his so doing, for his practice was rapidly increasing, and the death of Dr. Thynne gave him the whole profit of the lectures at St. Bartholomew's Hospital. These lectures, though a source of emolument, were also a source of great anxiety to Gooch. He found himself called upon to give a complete course of prelections upon a very extensive subject, on many parts of which he felt his own know- ledge to be as yet but imperfect, and no time, or at most a very inadequate time, could be allowed for preparation. It was impossible to write each lecture, and he often found himself compelled to go to the hospital with scanty notes, and not fully possessed of all that was known on the sub- ject. He was a severe critic of himself, and though most of his auditors came away satisfied with the clearness of his statements, and the live- liness of his manner, he over-estimated all the de- fects of which he was conscious. He used to look forward to the hour of lecturing with horror. In one of his letters he says, "I am going down Y2 324 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. to lecture with a palsied mind and a palpitating heart." Yet he generally came back from the hospital in better spirits than he went. Anxiety, with regard to his success as a lecturer, affected his health, and laid the foundation of that disorder of his stomach, from which he was never after- wards entirely free. In a few years Gooch became one of the best lecturers in London, and used to go into the class-room without any notes, with the most perfect confidence, able to teach clearly and impressively that which hehimself thoroughly under- stood : but for this power he paid too high a price. In January, 1814, Gooch married Miss Travers. He announced his approaching nuptials to his friend, Mr. Southey, thus, "Lost time is lost happiness; the years of man are three score and ten, the months therefore 840, about 360 of my share are already gone, how many have I to spare ? On the 21st of this month I leave London, and on the 1st of February, God permitting, I bring home my wife. To me, at least, you have been a suc- cessful preacher." Ten months afterwards he wrote another cheerful letter, reporting progress in his profession, and stating his expectation that he had taken leave of the fear of poverty for life, but expressing a little doubt how far his health might bear the air and the exertions of London. There was but too much ground for apprehension on this*point ; in every other respect Gooch was most happily circumstanced, every year added to his reputation, and consequently to his income ; and in his domestic relations no man could be more fortunate ; but no sooner was he free from the dread of poverty which had haunted him in GOOCH. 325 early life, than his health became sufficiently im- paired to fill his mind with gloomy anticipations. In the spring of 1815 he suffered from an in- flammatory attack on his lungs, and in a letter thus alludes to his illness, " At one time I was more alarmed about myself than I ever remember. I say alarmed, for I did not feel afraid of death, so lowly do I estimate the pleasures of life so diluted and mingled are even its best hours, and so uncertain is their continuance, even when we are going most merrily adown the current ; yet I was alarmed for I shuddered at the thought of dying just when I had come within reach of, but before I had time to grasp success, and leaving my wife pregnant and almost unprovided for. I am slowly recovering, my chest is well, but I am not" A few days' residence in the country restored him to his usual health. In April his first boy was born : at this time, Gooch's business was rapidly increasing, and more particularly in the west end of the town, where he profited by the overflowing of his friend Knighton's practice; this circumstance led to his removal, early in 1816, from Alder- manbury to Berners Street. Although there was little or no risk attending his removal, it was not without some misgivings that he changed his abode, and he was for some time anxious lest the increase of connexion in one part of London should not equal the loss of patients in the other. A few months settled the question satisfactorily. Towards the close of this year, Gooch went on a professional visit to the Marquis Wellesley, at Ramsgate, to whom he was introduced by Sir William Knighton ; here he was taken alarmingly 326 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. ill, his stomach became so irritable as to reject all aliment, and for several days he vomited inces- santly. Every care and attention was shown him, and as soon as it was safe for him to travel, Lord Wellesley sent one of his own servants with him to London. Gooch always expressed himself grateful for the kindness he experienced on this occasion, and highly gratified with the conversa- tion of one of the most accomplished scholars and statesmen of the age. From this period he dated the commencement of that formidable disorder of the stomach to which he was subject at intervals through the remainder of his life. In a few weeks after his return from Ramsgate he regained strength enough to resume his professional duties. Success is very wholesome to the body, if not to the mind, and in a man of Gooch's temperament, to both ; his life was doubt- less prolonged by the stimulus of increasing repu- tation. In 1818 he writes thus cheerfully, " My children (he had now three) are healthy, and more delightful to me than I had anticipated before I was a father. In my profession I am striding on with a rapidity which I had no right to expect at my age and standing ; the progress I have made, and from the state of competition the prospects I have before me, are such, that by fifty years of age, and very likely before, I must be able to re- tire with a competence. This is the happiest time of my life ; my home is delightful to me my station satisfactory, whether I regard what is doing for me or what I am doing for others my pecuniary cares gone my prospects bright, and I may add, as certain as any thing can be, that is if I live and preserve my health ; but there's the rub GOOCII. 327 that troubles me more than ever, and though I can no where detect any mortal disease, yet I am in a state which keeps constantly before my mind the probability that my life will be short, too short for me to do what I could do for my family, and what little I would try to do in my way for mankind," The next two years of Gooch's life were marked by increasing success in his profession, but the satisfaction resulting from this circumstance was more than balanced by anxiety on the score of his wife's health and his own. In 1820 'he lost his eldest son, an interesting and promising child of five years old : no calamity which he had ever experienced affected him so deeply as the death of this boy. In a letter, written soon after this event, he says, " There is only one subject I can talk to you about, and that is my boy ; he is always in our thoughts. Southey, in * Roderick,' gives the recipe for grief with a truth which shows he has tried it, and found its efficacy religion and strenuous exertion. Whoever says, that the latter is the chief, says false, for the former affords support when the mind is incapable of exertion ; it tranquillizes in moments which exertion cannot reach, and is not only not the least, but the best of the two. When we went down to Croydon to deposit our dear boy in my little tenement there, you will easily believe that I approached the town and entered the church-yard with strange feelings : ten years back I had visited this spot to lay a wife and a child in the same tomb ; since then I had reco- vered from my grief, had formed new affections, had had them wounded as bitterly as the former, 328 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. and was now approaching the same spot again on a similar, and as poignant an occasion. The scene was singularly instructive, it cried out with a voice, which I heard to my centre, of the en- durableness and curability of grief of the inse- curity of every thing the transience of life the rapid and inevitable current with which we are all hurrying on ; and it asked me, how I could fear to submit to that state into which so many whom I had dearly loved had already passed before me ? You will be interested to know the state of the contents of the tomb after the lapse of so many years ; both the coffins looked as if they had been deposited yesterday, as clean, as dry, as firm : if they could have been opened, I have little doubt the bodies would have been found in proper form, though changed. I added my beloved boy to its former inhabitants, and then asked myself, who goes next?" Within ten years he was himself deposited in the same spot. The death of his favourite child and his own ill health naturally directed Gooch's thoughts more and more to the subject of religion. Like many wise and truly pious men he had at times misgivings with regard to the efficacy of his own faith : one night, soon after the funeral, when he had been harassed by doubts, praying fer- vently for their removal, and in a very excited state of mind longing for the apparition of his boy, he fell asleep, thinking that if such a vision should be vouchsafed him, he could never doubt again. The dream which followed is not the less striking because it may be reasonably explained by the state of his mind and body at the time. He GOOCII. 329 thought his child appeared, and told him, that al- though his prayers had been heard, and a spirit was allowed to visit him, still, that he would not be satisfied, but would consider it merely as a dream ; adding, he who will not believe Moses and the prophets, will not believe though one comes from the dead. Here he awoke, and afterwards related the dream to several of his friends. At this time Gooch read a good deal of theology, and his letters and conversation showed how much his mind was occupied with this subject. In one of his letters he gives an account of Dr. Chalmers. " On Sunday I went to hear him preach at the Scotch church in Hatton Garden, and at the peril of my ribs succeeded in getting in ; and in the evening heard him again, at the Wesleyan chapel, where he preached to a con- gregation of four thousand. It was a striking sight, every pew full, the standing places crowded up to the very doors. It is difficult to compare strong impressions which we have received at dif- ferent periods of our life, but I think I may say, that I never heard so powerful a preacher ; a good deal of this power, however, depends on his manner an earnestness of heart, a fiery vehe- mence, which occasionally would be rant, but that the vehemence of the manner never rises above the energy of the thought and expression. He has a curious, but very useful custom ; at the end of a passage, ornamented in the highest possible degree, and perfectly on fire with energy, he makes a dead pause, and then states the pith of the passage, with the calmness and familiarity of con- versation : thus sending his hearers away, not 330 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. only with warm feelings, but with clear con- ceptions." While Mr. Benson held the living of St. Giles's, Gooch frequently attended at that church, and was a great admirer both of the writings and preaching of that powerful advocate of Christianity. The life of a physician, in very full practice, allows of little time either for study or recreation, but the state of Dr. Gooch's health was such, that he was obliged to restrict himself in the number of his daily visits, and thus made some leisure for literary pursuits. His mind was always too active for his body, and he frequently suffered in health from writing (or rather dictating, for his wife wrote every thing for him) too earnestly, or too long at a time. Every summer he was obliged to quit London altogether for some weeks, and usually found most benefit from a journey. In 1822 he visited Paris. On his return he writes thus to Mrs. Bolingbroke, with whom through life he continued to correspond : " My journey to France, like all earthly things, has afforded me a mixture of good and evil ; I have returned in better health, pleased with some things, disap- pointed with many, and resolved (as long as I continue in the same mind) never to go abroad again during any future holidays from business. When I leave London I want repose ; in my last excursion I had any thing but that, for the fatigues of business are nothing to the fatigues of sight- seeing in Paris. I used to come home at night half dead ; but the next morning I was alive again, and ready to run the same foolish round I say foolish, because three-fourths of the sights you Goocir. 331 are dragged to see, are, in my mind, not worth seeing. The pleasantest day I spent in France was in travelling from Paris to Rouen, sitting on the outside of the carriage, and looking about on a beautiful and ever-changing country, observing the grotesque appearance of the peasantry, and pass- ing through towns interesting from historical association. I shall take the hint, and if ever I leave town again for health and relaxation, it shall be for an unhurried tour through Wales or Cum- berland, or some of the beautiful counties of England. Horace Walpole said, that after Calais there was nothing in France striking : and I can understand what he means, for our first day in Calais was the most striking day I experienced ; even the crossing was exciting and agreeable : I had never before been on board a steam packet, and without the aid of wind or tide, or any visible means, to see it turn round and walk over the waters, gave me a lively sense of the power of man. It was a glorious morning ; the sea was green, and scarcely more ruffled than a lake ; the deck was crowded with well-dressed passengers, and the scene was indescribably lively. We entered Calais harbour, playing the popular tune of Henry IV. between the piers on each side, a mile long, thronged with people. On landing, the first aspect of the town its ramparts as you pass along the streets, the dresses of the people, their long-eared caps, gold ear-rings, blue stockings, and wooden shoes, ugly faces and strange tongue, all so entirely different from what you left four hours ago it was a striking moment ; but alas ! it was only a moment. The eye soons gets accus- 332 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. tomed to the costume of a foreign country ; I had experienced this pleasure a long time before in my first journey to Scotland, when it was far more lively and lasting than now : now the only time I felt it was, as I have described, on my first en- trance into Calais, and it was scarcely ever re- peated during the rest of my tour. I am an old man with me the bloom is off the plum, there is nothing in life which can afford me lively plea- sure, except for a moment, but the pleasures I have around my fire-side; and I see clearly, that for the rest of my life, I must seek contentment from the attainment of a competence, the educa- tion of my children, and preparing for the ills and the end of life." This letter is very characteristic of Gooch : it shows the effect of bodily disorder upon a mind naturally alive to everything interesting in nature and art ; but uneasy sensation made him incapable of enjoying anything, as he says, for more than a moment. It had an influence upon his literary taste, so that few books which he read gave him pleasure ; and there were still fewer people whose conversation he could tolerate, for more than a short time : but though he became thus ultra- fastidious, his natural affections were unimpaired, his heart was unchanged, and his reasoning powers seemed to acquire fresh vigour. The following autumn, he made a tour through North Wales ; and on his return passed a clay in the company of Dr. Parr, at Warwick. They had previously met in London ; and Gooch afterward gave an account of these two interviews in a lively paper, which was printed in Blackwood's Maga- GOOCH. 333 zine, and entitled, Two Days with Dr. Parr. On this occasion, when speaking of the different profes- sions, and relative advantages and disadvantages of each, Parr said, the most desirable was that of physic, which was equally favourable to a man's moral sentiments and intellectual faculties. One of the party reminded him of his first interview with Dr. Johnson. "I remember it well," said Parr ; " I gave him no quarter, the subject of our dispute was the liberty of the press. Dr. Johnson was very great : whilst he was arguing, I observed that he stamped ; upon this I stamped. Dr. John- son said, 'Why do you stamp, Dr. Parr?' I re- plied, ' Sir, because you stamped, and I was resolved not to give you the advantage even of a stamp in the argument.' " Gooch remarks of Dr. Parr, that one of the striking features of his character seems to have been a child-like simplicity and sincerity, one ef- fect of which was, that feelings of personal vanity were let out, which any other man would have felt under the same circumstances, but which he would have prudently kept to himself; yet Parr's mode of displaying it rather excited a smile than a sneer. In the summer of 1824, Gooch passed a few weeks in Norfolk, and derived all the enjoyment which his state of health permitted from the so- ciety of his early friends in Yarmouth and Norwich. Towards the close of this year the question of altering the quarantine-laws began to be agitated, and he took a lively interest in the subject. He writes thus to Mr. South ey, in a letter dated April, 1825 : " I remember, about 334 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. fifteen years ago, telling you that I never felt what was called patriotism : time has altered me in this respect, as well as in many others : and I grieve to see the number of men who, some from ignorance and others from wickedness, are doing all they can to injure their country. At this time, a set of half-educated, wrong-headed, medical adventurers, are trying to persuade the Govern- ment that the plague is not contagious, and that there is no need of any precautions to keep it out of the country. The writings by which the public mind is assailed on this subject are filled with the most absurd reasoning, garbled statements, and all sorts of dishonest measures. Eminent men are even quoted against the contagiousness of the plague, who never entertained a doubt of the op- posite opinion. These writings are swallowed as gospel by worthy, active members of Parliament are repeated in their speeches ; and I understand that the subject is to come before the House on Tuesday night, and that some material change is likely to be proposed, and even carried, in our quarantine-laws. Something ought to be done to stay the mischief. But what is every body's busi- ness is nobody's business the trustworthy minds are too busy, too modest, or too indolent to do any- thing, and thus the public are governed by, what William Taylor calls, not real merit, but noisy conspicuity. We deserve, however, to suffer, if we do not exert ourselves ; and as nobody else will undertake the task, I will. But here, unluckily, I have been disabled for some time by one of my old illnesses, which has confined me to the house nearly three weeks, and which has left me very GOOCH. 335 weak, and incapable of much exertion. It will re- quire some time before I am fit for work of any kind. In the meanwhile, to stay the mischief, I have put into Mr. Peel's hands some of the evi- dence I have collected on the subject ; and I now write to you, to say, that if you have any notes of reading on the subject, I shall be very thankful foT them." How well he performed the task thus self-im- posed, is seen in the article on the Contagious Nature of the Plague, Avhich appeared in the Quarterly Review for December, 1825. As Gooch reprinted this paper among his other medical works, there can be no impropriety in giving him the credit which is so justly due. During the whole of this year he suffered much from illness. He went to the Continent in search of health, but the crossing from Dover to Calais brought on a sickness which continued after he landed, confined him to his bed three days at Ca- lais, and three weeks at Bruges ; and he returned weaker than he went. He had the good fortune to be accompanied on this excursion by his accom- plished friend, Dr. Robert Fergusson, to whose skill and attention he was much indebted, and who greatly lessened the anxiety of Mrs. Gooch, the indefatigable nurse and constant attendant of her husband in all his journeys. While at Ghent, ill as he was, Gooch contrived to visit the Beguinage there ; and in one of his letters gives an account of the evening service in the chapel: "When we entered, it was nearly dark ; the only lights were a few tall tapers before the altar, and as many at the opposite extremity 336 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. of the chapel, before the organ ; the rest of the building was in deep gloom, having no other light than what it received from these few and dis- tant tapers. There were a few people of the town kneeling, on straw chairs, in the open space before the altar, but the rest of the chapel was filled on each side, from end to end, by the Beguine nuns, amounting to several hundreds, all in their dark russet gowns and white stiff hoods; and all in twilight, and deep silence, and motionless, and the silence interrupted only by the occasional tinkling of a bell, or by a nun starting up with outstretched arms in the attitude of the Cruci- fixion, in which she remained fixed and silent for many minutes. It was the strangest and most unearthly scene I ever beheld." The Beguines, like the Soeurs de Charite, act as nurses to the sick poor in the hospitals ; and the best . of nurses they make, combining more intelligence than can be found among the unedu- cated classes with a high sense of duty. It was a favourite scheme of Gooch's to direct the flow of religious enthusiasm towards the hos- pitals in this country. The superiority of the Parisian to the London hospitals in point of nurses must be obvious to the most superficial observer. An association of middle-aged females animated by religious feelings, for the purpose of relieving the extremes of human misery, not by pecuniary aid, but by personal attention to the sick poor, in imi- tation of the Sisters of Charity, or rather of the Be- guines (for the latter are bound by no vow except to be chaste and obedient while they remain in the order, and have the power of returning to the GOOCH. 337 world whenever they please) might be eminently useful. The letters on this subject, published in the Appendix to Mr. Southey's Colloquies, were written by Dr. Gooch. They have been reprinted at Liverpool, as a means of calling attention and inviting assistance in support of an institution for educating nurses which has been established there. Mr. Hornby, the rector of Winwick, is the indi- vidual by whose active exertions this scheme has been, to a certain extent, carried into effect, and who had previously introduced the subject into a printed sermon. Gooch returned from Flanders in wretched health, and found himself under the necessity cf relinquishing the practice of midwifery : that branch of his business he transferred as far as he could to Dr. Locock, on whom he could thoroughly rely, and henceforth confined himself to the pre- scribing part of his profession. He spent the month of October at Bath, and returned to town somewhat better ; but on the 1 st of January, 1826, he was attacked with ha?moptysis. On his recovery from this attack, he writes thus : "You will be sorry to hear that since I last wrote to you I have had an- other long and suffering illness. Early on New- year's morning I was waked by a symptom I never had before a haemorrhage from the lungs. As I have for many years never passed a day without some degree of cough and expectoration, I imme- diately concluded that this was the breaking up of some old organic mischief in the lungs, and took it for granted that my hour was come ; and now I felt the difference between the prospect of death during bodily suffering which has no remedy, an4 z 338 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. the same prospect in a state of mental and bodily comfort. Generally my illnesses have been suf- fering, and death has looked a welcome visitor. Now, on the contrary, I felt well, at least I had no pain. Every object around me and before me looked pleasant, and I felt unwilling to quit them ; but it was not dying, but parting with those dear to me, which caused the pang. It was just what I have felt when death hath removed from me those I loved, and just what I should have felt in the prospect of my wife and all my children being taken from me by death. The haemorrhage soon ceased, and I believe was of no consequence ; but the anxiety I felt about it, and the low diet which I observed for a fortnight, ended in one of my old vomiting illnesses, which lasted three weeks, and has now left me as thin as the anatomie vivante.'' Notwithstanding these repeated illnesses, which withdrew him for months together from his pro- 1 fession, Gooch's reputation continued to increase ; and as soon as he was able to resume his practice, he always found that he had more patients on his list than he could visit. In April, 182G, he was appointed librarian to the King a situation which added much to his comfort, by insuring him a moderate annuity for life, in case (which then appeared too probable) ill health should oblige him to relinquish his profession entirely. For this he was indebted to the kindness of his friend, Sir William Knighton. The summer of this year Gooch passed chiefly at Malvern; he had intended to visit the Cumberland Lakes again, but found his strength unequal to the journey. The air of Malvern agreed with him, and he returned to town ooocn. 339 able to resume his medical practice, but still obliged to restrict himself to a very limited number of hours of active employment. His mind was, however, rarely at rest ; he was either occupied in preparing for publication his work on the diseases of women, or in contributions to periodi- cal publications. In whatever he engaged, there was an earnestness of purpose which not unfre- quently exhausted his bodily powers. The few remaining years of Gooch's life exhibited a strik- ing contrast between mental vigour and bodily weakness. His best health was that of a complete valetudinarian ; but he was able to see a consider- able number of patients most days, and to devote some hours to literary labour. The summer of 1827 he passed at Southborough, near Bromley ; that of the following year at Hampstead and Tun- bridge Wells. Gooch had now been for a considerable part of his life engaged in attending more particularly to the diseases of women, and he was not a man upon whom the lessons of experience were lost. The publication of his work on this subject was, there- fore, sure to add to his reputation. He corrected the last sheets of this volume while at Brighton, in the summer of 1829; and he lived long enough to know that he had not disappointed the high ex- pectations of his medical friends. On his return to town he found that his book had been praised by every professional reader, and that he could have increased his practice to any extent had his health permitted. But his strength was unequal even to the former demands upon it. His bodily powers failed gradually and progressively, but his z 2 340 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. mind retained its activity almost to the last. He became a living skeleton, and so helpless that he was fed like an infant, yet he would dictate with a faltering voice sentences which indicated no mental feebleness. Once or twice he became de- lirious for a few minutes, and the consciousness that he was so, distressed him greatly. His life was prolonged for some days by the constant watching of his medical friends, Mr. George Young and Mr. Fernandez, who relieved each other at his bedside ; and by the admirable nurs- ing of his wife, whose health suffered materially by her incessant attentions. " On the 16th of February, 1830, he breathed his last. Enough has been stated in this brief memoir to show that Robert Gooch was no ordinary man. During a short life, embittered by almost constant illness, he succeeded in attaining to great eminence in his profession, and left behind him valuable contributions to medical knowledge. His Essay on the Plague settled the question of the contagious nature of that disease, at least for the present generation ; and, when the same controversy shall be again revived (for medical as well as theolo- gical heresies spring up again after the lapse of a few generations), will furnish facts and arguments for the confutation of future anti-contagionists. The paper on Anatomy in the Quarterly Review for January, 1830, which bears internal marks of being his, and must, of course, have been dic- tated from his death-bed, has placed the question in a right point of view, by proving that it is the interest of the public rather than of the medical profession, that the impediments to study of that ooocii. 341 soience should be removed. His book On the Diseases Peculiar to Women is the most valuable work QII that subject in any language ; the chapters on puerperal fever and puerperal madness are pro- bably the most important additions to practical medicine of the present age. "With regard to personal appearance, Gooch was rather below the ordinary height, and always thin : his countenance was elegantly marked ; the dark full eyes remarkably fine ; the habitual expression made up of sagacity and melancholy, though no features could exhibit occasionally a more happy play of humour. His manners were singularly well adapted to a sick room natural, quiet, im- pressive ; and the kindness of his heart led him to sympathize readily with the feelings of others, and rarely failed to attach his patients strongly. They who were accustomed to rely upon him merely for professional aid, found it difficult to supply his place ; to his intimates and his family his loss was irreparable. Dr. Gooch left three children two boys and a girl ; his family were moderately provided for, but his sons inherited the inesti- mable advantage of their father's good name and example. 342 MEERIMAN. THE name of Merriman having been justly celebrated for nearly a century in the annals of obstetricy, it is considered advisable to preface this biographical memoir by a few notes upon the first accoucheur of that name. Samuel, the first Dr. Merriman, was born at Marlborough, in Wiltshire, on December 29, 1731. He graduated at Edinburgh, as M.D., in 1753 ; his thesis was an essay of so much value, that it was thought worthy of being reprinted by William Smellie, S.P.E.S., in the second volume of his " Thesaurus Medicus," a collection of theses for the degree of M.D. at the University of Edinburgh, published in 1779, in four vols. 8vo. The cards of admission to the lectures which Dr. Merriman received from the professors at the University are worthy of being noted, as instances of a simplicity of manners which has now quite passed away ; they are ordinary, much- used playing-cards, with the name, &c. written on the back. The following are exact copies of some, which were preserved as curiosities : "1749, Oct. 18, Anatomy, No. 7th, Samuel Merryman, 85," is the card given by Professor Monro, written on the four of clubs ; " College of Institutions of Medicine, K.W.,17H, No. 24, Samuel Merryman," is Dr. Whytt'scard, written uponan eight of hearts; and " A Course of Chemistry begun at EdinV 14th Nov. 1752, And. Plummer, for Samuel Merriman, No. 24," MERR1MAN. 343 is the card admitting to the Chemical Lectures, written upon the nine of diamonds. The London cards of the same period were more elegant, though very simple. Dr. Merriman' s card of admission to the lectures of Dr. William Hunter is a blank card, with an ill-engraved seal in black-wax, representing a head, and bears in writing, " No. 62, Anatomy by William Hunter, Jan ry 1752," and on reverse, ''Mr. Merriman." Dr. Merriman, senior, first settled as a physician in Bristol, and afterwards removed to Andover, in Hampshire; but finding that a young unknown phy- sician had little chance of success in his profession, he came to London in April, 17^7> and commenced practice in Queen-street, M ay-fair, as an apothecary (the term " general practitioner" being unknown in those days), in partnership with Mr. Oakley Halford, who was about to retire from practice, lie continued to practise as an apothecary for about twenty years, when he acted on his diploma, and practised only as a physician. Dr. Merriman, senior, Avas removed from this world, 17th August, 1818, aged eighty-six. On the morning of his decease, his daughter read to him a few passages in the newspaper which were likely to interest him ; he afterwards searched in Watts's Lyric Poems for a passage which he thought applicable to his situation, but in vain ; before nine o'clock on the same evening he had ceased to breathe. He died at his son-in-law's house, 26, Half Moon- street, his daughter, Mrs. Merriman, being the sole surviving child of a family of fourteen children. Samuel Merriman, M.D., the immediate subject of this memoir, was born at Marlborough, 25th October, 177 lj and was the only son of an elder 344 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. brother of the above-mentioned Dr. Merriman, Mr. Benjamin Merriman, a bre\ver in large business in that town. He was a man of scientific pursuits, and published several pamphlets upon political economy. His wife was a niece of that very upright judge, Sir Michael Foster. Dr. Merriman received his early education at the Free Grammar School, Marlborough, founded by Xing Edward VI., and presided over at that time by the Rev. Joseph Edwards. On his thirteenth birthday, 1784, he arrived in London, to reside with his uncle, having travelled by the stage coach, which, leaving Newbury, where he had slept, at six in the morning, reached London at five in the afternoon. For a short time, he went to the school of Mr. Robert Roy, in Old Burlington-street; and he remem- bers often to have seen, in very fine weather, as he was going to school, Dr. Denmon, who lived next door to Mr. Roy, getting on horseback to visit his patients. This mode of visiting patients was likewise frequently adopted by Sir Richard Croft, and by some other physicians. Under the able tuition and direction of Dr. Merri- man, sen., he began his medical studies, obtaining the greatest amount of his professional knowledge from the very sound and extensive medical skill and science of his uncle. In 1795, he attended the midwifery lectures of Dr. Thynne at the Westminster Lying-in Hospital, having previously gone through the usual courses of lectures at the Anatomical Theatre, in Great Wind- mill-street, by Baillie and Cruikshank ; but his clinical knowledge of disease was principally obtained MERRIMAN. 345 by seeing the numerous patients of his cousin William, son of Dr. Merriman, sen , first in company with him, and subsequently, during his long illness, which proved ultimately fatal, as his friend. The practice of an apothecary, previously to the present century, was of a nature very different from what it is now. There Avere then no retail druggists, but every apothecary had his shop, not often open, but always easily accessible. At these shops, the prescriptions of physicians were made up ; here casual patients used to apply for advice and assistance? here persons might at any time go and be bled, and, "in the spring and fall," many considered it necessary, according to the instructions of the almanacks, that blood should be taken from them ; and here the minor cases of surgery were attended to, so that every day a number of small fees were received from these casual patients. And this necessarily led to a good deal of better and more lucrative practice. The practitioners of the present day hold a higher rank, in consequence of their being more highly edu- cated ; this is as it should be : at the same time, they experience more difficulty in obtaining practice than the apothecaries above alluded to. In 1799, Mr. Merriman married his uncle's daugh- ter, Ann, continuing, however, still to reside in his uncle's house in Queen-street, May-fair, and prac- tising as an apothecary a department he resolved to abandon in 1807, finding that it interfered with his increasing midwifery practice. He, therefore, entered into partnership with Mr. Peregrine, of Half Moon- street, to whom he soon relinquished the general practice. About this time a vacancy occurred in the office of 346 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. physician-accoucheur to the Westminster General Dispensary, by the death c f Dr. Boys. As the num- ber of parturient women from this dispensary amounted to from 500 to 600 every year, the appoint- ment appeared valuable to Mr. Merriman; but the degree of M.D. was required before he could be elected. Hitherto he had practised upon the right which the membership of the Society of Apothecaries conferred, but it was recommended to him by Dr. William Saunders and Dr. Willan, to apply to Marischal College, Aberdeen, for the honorary diploma granted by that university; and Dr. Vaughan (after- wards Sir. H. Halford, Bart.), Drs. Matthew Baillie and Andrew Bain, signed a testimonial in his favour. Dr. Merriman, his uncle, gave a separate testimonial; and Dr. Saunders also bore testimony to his abilities. The professors of Marischal College, however, de- clined to grant a diploma, until they had received a second certificate, from some eminent practitioner, stating that, he had personally examined the candi- date. This difficulty was removed by the kindness of Dr. Vaughan, who undertook the examination ; and the degree was accordingly granted, A.D. 1808.. The contest at the dispensary, between Dr. Clough, who had a few years previously lost his election by one vote only, and Dr. Merrimau, was warm and close, and again ended in the defeat of Dr. Clough, Dr. Merriman gaining the election, principally in consequence of the exertions of Dr. Denman in his behalf. He resigned this appointment in 1815, and was appointed consulting physician-accoucheur, and subsequently vice-president, of the charity. In 1814, the governors, by an unanimous vote, presented to him a handsome silver bread-basket, with a suitable inscription. MEERIMAX. 347 In 1808, Dr. Merriman was appointed by the governors of the poor of St. George's, Hanover-square, to take charge of the midwifery cases in the parish requiring extraordinary assistance a duty which he performed for nineteen years. In 1809, by the death of Dr. Poignand, vacancies occurred in the office of physician man mid-wife to the Middlesex and West- minster Lying-in Hospitals. It had been intended, by Dr. Mayo, physician to the Middlesex Hospital, to propose Dr. Thynne to fill the vacant office ; but when Dr. Denman, at the weekly board, proposed Dr. Merriman, Dr. Thynne declined to present him- self. Dr. Roberton then presented himself, pleading that Dr. Merriman was ineligible, because physician- accoucheur to another institution. Upon this objection being started, it was found necessary to call together a special general meeting of the governors ; and by a vote of twenty to one, it was resolved " That as much of the bye-laws as relates to the disqualifying the phy- sician man-midwife for belonging to any other charity for sick and lame be suspended." On this Dr. .Roberton withdrew ; and all opposition having sub- sided, it was found difficult, on the day of election, August 17, 1809, to collect a sufficient number of governors to form a court. The hospital being in the habit of giving to the physician man-midwife five shillings for each case of labour attended, the inten- tion being that one-half should be paid to the mid- wife, and the other half remain in the hands of the physician, in compensation for his expenses in coach- hire when called to difficult labours, Dr. Merriman, in a manner characteristic of the high and generous spirit which always actuated him in his profession, introduced the plan of giving the whole five shillings 348 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. to the midwife, or to the patient, if attended by a pupil, the premium being paid on her bringing back the pupil's certificate of his attendance upon her. The plan was found to work exceedingly well, and is still continued. Dr. Merriraan's yearly reports to the weekly board, on the state of the midwifery department, are given at full length in the valuable history of the hospital, by Erasmus Wilson, Esq. Dr. Merriman commenced his lectures on mid- wifery at the Middlesex Hospital, in 1810, and continued them till 1825, when he resigned them to Dr. Hugh Ley. These lectures were largely attended, and very many of the practitioners now living in all parts of England, recollect with great estet m their former teacher. While engaged in the duties described above, Dr. Merriman received a note from Dr. Gooch, who was ill, and had been obliged inconveniently to postpone on that account the opening of his course of lectures on midwifery at St. Bartholomew's Hospital ; he, therefore, requested Dr. Merriman to give a portion of the course for him. To this he acceded, and during three courses, in 1820-1, he lectured at Middlesex and St. Bartholomew's Hospitals, fre- quently giving a morning and an evening lecture on the same day. It was then agreed by Drs. Gooch and Merriman to continue the course of lectures conjointly, but when this was submitted to the consideration of the medical staff of the hospital, an objection was made that Dr. Mrrriman had never been a pupil at St. Bartholo- mew's, to the propriety of which objection he perfectly assented, and withdrew his claims. Subsequently, Dr. Conquest was appointed. MERRIMAN. 349 The decease of Sir Richard Croft augmented con- siderably the number and rank of Dr. Merriman's patients. He had been long enough in practice to have acquired much reputation, and he now became more extensively employed in consultation practice, which induced him, in 1822, to remove to Brook- street, Grosvenor-square. Dr. Merriman took very great interest in the Middlesex Hospital; from the time of his first con- nexion with it he was a constant attendant at the weekly board. This weekly board had recently been changed from a close to an open board, in the hope of raising the hospital from a state of insolvency. This was the strong recommendation of Lord Robert Seymour, the renovator of the hospital, to all the governors ; and the success of the measure was most gratifying. Dr. Merriman commenced the subscrip- tions raised in 1833 for enlarging the hospital ; he also begun the subscription in 1835 for founding the medical school, and gave to the school the skeleton of a native of Fort Macquarie, New South Wales. He first obtained for the assistant-surgeon defined and explicit duties, and brought forward the proposal for having an assistant-physician. Being fond of literary and archa3ological pursuits, he hunted out the names of the persons represented in the large picture in the board room, of the Earl of Northumberland laying the first stone of the hospital in 1755, in " Marybon-fields," as the locality was then termed. He compiled the brief history of the hospital prefixed to the laws and lists of governors. To him is due, in a great measure, the application to Parliament for the incorporation of the hospital, with power to hold landed property, notwithstanding the statute of 350 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. mortmain. He was honoured by the application of the lecturers, for four successive years, to deliver the prizes obtained in the medical school, and was appointed one of the treasurers of the hospital, in 1840, an office which he held till 1845. Dr. Merriraan early became, by purchase, a mem- ber of the Society of Apothecaries, but was too much engaged in practice to take much personal interest in the endeavours to obtain a licensing body for the future apothecaries. After several years' agitation of this question, and after the two Colleges of I 3 hysicians and Surgeons had refused to take upon themselves the duty of examining candidates for general practice, it was at last offered to, and accepted by, the Wor- shipful Society of Apothecaries. The Apothecaries of London had originally been incorporated by King Edward III. with the Company of Grocers ; other and extensive privileges were granted to them in the reign of Henry VI. , and they were finally separated from the Grocers, and formed into a distinct Society, by James I. By the Act of Parliament passed in 1815, power was given to the Master, Wardens, and Court of Assistants of this Society of Apothecaries, to elect annually twelve of its members into a Court of Examiners, who should examine and license all future apothecaries. The first Court of Examiners, which assembled on Thursday, the 1st of August, 1815, could not be very strict as to the qualifications required from candi- dates ; but the successive Courts of Examiners have cautiously and gradually, but steadily, persevered in imposing a higher and higher standard of qualification from the candidates, and in the year 1828, they laid down a code of regulations, from which a most MERRIMAN. 351 Decidedly good effect has resulted. In 1831, the Court determined to require from students evidence of their having attended lectures on midwifery ; and expecting that it would have a good moral effect upon the students to have upon the Court an examiner fully acquainted with this branch of medi- cine, they requested Dr. Merriinan to allow himself to be proposed as a candidate for the office of examiner^ he was accordingly elected by the Court of Assistants, and was re-elected annually for six years, when he retired in consequence of ill-health. The wisdom evinced by the Court in this and many other points, is amply proved by the distinguished character the apothecaries of the present day bear, and has had a collateral effect in inducing the propor- tionate increase in the amount of knowledge now required by the Colleges of Physicians and Surgeons from the candidates seeking their licenses, above that which was required at the time of the passing the Apothecaries' Act. Dr. Merriman was shortly after- wards elected one of the Court of Assistants of the Society, but he did not serve the office of Master or Warden, owing to the infirmities of age. He was a member of the old Lyceum Medicum Londinense, founded by John Hunter and Dr. George Fordyce, which was at one time extensively supported, but gra- dually crumbled away; so that when, in the year 1837, an attempt was made to collect the names of the old members, very few could be discovered. The object of this inquiry was to ascertain whether the survivors would be willing to transfer the funded property of the Lyceum in the hands of Sir Alexander Crichton, the sole remaining trustee, to the Society for the Relief of Widows and Orphans of Medical Men in London 352 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. and its Vicinity, or to have it equitably divided amongst the survivors. It was, with only one dis- sentient voice, finally agreed to make a present of the money to that very excellent society. This exception was the once celebrated political propagandist, John Gale Jones, to whom had been awarded one of the Lyceum Medicum Londinense gold medals, for his prize essay on the Whooping-cough. Poor Jones was now in great affliction and poverty ; he was nearly blind, he had lost several of his children, arxf another, a daughter, was at the point of death ; still he ex- pressed his regrets that he was not able to do as much as the other surviving members. To him, therefore, was paid 10, much more than the amount which justly belonged to him, and his last few days were rendered more comfortable by the money so received few indeed, for he only lived about a week afterwards. Mr. Gale Jones had been in considerable practice as a general surgeon, but his love of political excitement, and his great power-as a public speaker, drew him away from the sober paths of his profession, and made him a reformer and a beggar. He was one of the most effective speakers that ever addressed an audience, and his speeches were much admired even by some of the most thoughtful of his own profession. The Lyceum Medicum Londinense had been succeeded by the Westminster Medical Society, which met with various turns of fortune ; latterly it had risen in public estimation, and has now become united with the long-established and well-known Medical Society of London. Dr. Merriman was for many years a fellow of the Medical Society of London, in Bo]t-court, of the Linnaean Society, and of the Royal Medical and MERRIMAN. 353 Chirurgical Society, to which he was elected trea- surer in 1837, His resignation took place in 1847. Dr. Merriman became a member of the Society for the Relief of Widows and Orphans of Medical Men, in 1800, and was for many years one of its treasurers. Throughout his life, Dr. Merriman frequently sent communications to the literary periodicals, besides papers read before the Medical Societies, and pub- lished in their Transactions. He also published several separate works, on important subjects con- nected with the branch of practice with which he was more intimately connected. His other literary productions are principally in the Gentleman's Magazine, and deserve some notice. In the seventeenth volume, new series, 1842, is a letter identifying the various persons contained in a picture by Hogarth, called " Cunicularii, or the Wise Men of Godlimanin Consultation," a satire upon the notorious impostor, Mary Toft, the Godliman rabbit-breeder. In the nineteenth volume, 1843, is an interesting letter touching upon the honours conferred on'medical men viz., the peerage, baronetcies, membership of par- liament, &c. ; and reference is made to the story, that when Dr. Freind was imprisoned, Dr. Mead attended his patients for him, and received 5,000 in fees, which he handed to Dr. Freind on his release, and reasons are given to prove that so large a sum could not have been so received by Dr. Mead.* In the twenty-second volume, 1844, are two" very interesting letters on the " taking her chamber," or "taking her rights," or "child-bed privilege," of queens and great ladies, explaining what is meant by those terms, and giving references to old authors who * See Life of Mead, page 166. A A. 354 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. mention the subject. To the list of the authors may now be added Miss Strickland, who, in her History of Elizabeth, Queen of Henry VII., describes at some length the ceremonies she went through on " taking her chamber," a month or thereabouts, before her confinement. In volume xxv., 1846, is an interesting memoir of the rise of the father of medical booksellers, John Callow. In yolume xxvi., 1846, is a memoir of Julian Clement, the celebrated surgeon-accoucheur of Paris, temp. Louis XIV., and of his journey into Spain to attend the queen of that country in her confine- ment. Also notices of Daniel Turner, M.D., and his contemporaries ; and of Drs. Richard Bathurst and William Baylies, formerly physicians of the Middle- sex Hospital. Dr. Merriman's last contribution to this celebrated periodical is a notice of Gideon de Lawne and his family. He was an apothecary of considerable eminence in the city of London in the reign of James I., and to him the Society of Apo- thecaries was much indebted for his liberality and support. Dr. Merriman was'very fond of noting down memo- randa of medical and other scientific men whom he had known personally or by repute ; and, possessing an excellent memory, he was very often able to men- tion incidents which are highly interesting to lovers of literature. Two works, published some years ago, the " Picture of the College of Physicians," and Wadd's " Nugae Chirurgicae, &c." he has largely illustrated with anecdotes of the persons mentioned ; and he had a large collection of portraits of medical men. Philological subjects also much interested him, so that he was able to send articles to this and HERRIMAN. 355 other magazines and journals on a variety of different subjects. The following is a list of his more important con- tributions to the Gentleman's Magazine : 1828. Part i. p. 290. Announcement that Miss Dayrolles was the prototype of the " Miss Larolles " in Miss Burney'a " Cecilia." Ibid, p. 218. On Mr. Mace being Editor of the " New Testament in Greek and English," &c. 1829. Part i. p. 408. On the word " Desight." 1831. Part i. p. 224. On the Translation of tcafir)\oQ in the Gospels. (This subject is further elucidated by S. W. J. M. in Vol. xxiv. New Series, A.D. 1845.) 1832. Part i. p. 10. Memoir of Thomas Morgan, author of " The Moral Philosopher." Ibid. p. 290. Reference given to the publication in the Gentleman's Magazine for 1749 of the "Power of Innocence," a Poem. Ibid. Part ii. p. 228. 1833. Part i.- p. 209. On the word " Aroint," used by Shakspere. New Series. 1835. Vol. iii. p. 611. Reference to and comments on a Poem addressed by Dr. Hannes to Sydenham. 1836. Vol. T. p. 32. On our Saviour's healing the "Maimed." Ibid. p. 224, Copy of a Letter from Sawrey Gilpin to the first Dr. Merriman in 1792. 1837. Vol. vii. p. 434. Memoir of Dr. Hugh Ley. 1838. Vol. x. p. 672. Additions to obituary notice of James Norris, Esq. 1839. Vol. xi. p. 450. Explanation of " Painted Coaches." 1839. Vol. xii. p. 204. Memoir of John Merriman, Esq. Ibid. p. 257. Strictures on the new Life of Milton in Lardner's Cabinet Cyclopedia, as reflecting on Dr. Johnson. 1840. Vol. xiv. p. 612. On Dr. Johnson's early knowledge of Savage. 1841. Vol. xvi. p. 212. Memoir of Thomas Merriman, Esq. Ibid. Vol. xviii. p. 251. Letter from Francis Const, Esq., respecting his own family and that of the Potticary's. 1843. Vol. xix. p. 489. Observations on the rank of A A 2 356 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. Medical Men, and on Midwifery, in reply to " J. R." (A MS. addition adds the name of Dr. Radcliffe to the list of M.P.s.) Ibid. Vol. xx. p. 469. Letter of Matthew Guthrie, M.D. to Maxwell Gartshorne, M.D. 1797. Ibid. p. 145. Anecdotes of Daniel Turner, M.D., who died 1741. 1846. Vol. xxv. p. 481. On the authorship of "The Lounger's Commonplace Book." Ibid. VoL xxvi. p. 153. Account of J. W. Newman, Esq, the author. Subsequently to this date increasing age and infir- mities rendered Dr. Merriman's hours of employment fewer and fewer ; hut, whenever he was able to pursue his favourite avocations, he delighted himself, his family, and friends by relating and recording many interesting anecdotes. One of these latter exercises deserves a separate notice, viz., an historical retrospect of the science and practice of medicine, published in the London Journal of Medicine under the title of " The First of October, 1851, by an Octo- genarian." The few societies which Dr. Merriman was able to attend at this advanced period of his life occu- pied also his energetic mind, and Notes and Queries, brought before his notice, received several interest- ing articles from his richly-stored memory. Thus employed, he awaited, with true Christian patience, the hour that was to remove him from this world of trouble to one of rest ; and he will long live in the memory of his numerous friends as one of the most affectionate and estimable of men. Several portraits of Dr. Merriman were taken at different periods, two of which only have been en- graved ; one, a private plate ; the other was published in the Lancet^ prefixed to a memoir. ME R RIM AN. 357 Mrs. Merriraan died 10th March, 1831, after suffer- ings of the most acute description, endured for many years. Their issue Avere : a daughter, Avho died 17th June, 1844, having been married to the Rev. John Ward, Vicar of Great Bedwyn, Wilts, now Rector of Wath, in Yorkshire, by whom she had several children ; another daughter, now living ; and a son, the present Dr. Merriman, Consulting Physician to the Westminster General Dispensary, and Physician to the Royal Infirmary for Children. It is not usually the fate of medical men to acquire riches; some few, indeed, are super- eminently fortu- nate in this respect, but the greater number must be contented if, in their old age, they can avoid the res angusta domi. This was the case with Dr. Merriman. The largest amount of fees which,he ever received in one year was somewhat above 4,000 ; but his ex- penses were necessarily very great, and they were increased by an afflicting illness in his family of twelve years' duration. Such is a concise but faithful and accurate account of the career of one of the most amiable and excellent practitioners that ever practised in this metropolis. There are few surgeons, who have been any consider- able time in general practice in London, who have not, at one period or another, availed themselves of the valuable opinion and profound knowledge of Dr. Merriman in obstetric cases, or the diseases of women and children. None who have had that opportunity can ever forget his undeviating kindness and con- sideration. To the youngest as to the oldest he was, in every sense of the word, the professional brother, and always won the esteem of the practitioner as well as of [the patient. Nor must the generous 358 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. conduct of Dr. Merriman be forgotten by those who were not able to give him his fee. Indeed, he made it a rule never to take a fee from clergymen with small incomes, from governesses, or other persons engaged in the duties of education. To himself such a proceeding was no less an honour than to the pro- fession of which he was so distinguished an ornament. The last illness of Dr. Merriman was mercifully curtailed. He had during the spring and summer months attended with wonderful regularity, consi- dering his age and infirmities, the weekly meetings of the Directors of the Clerical, Medical, and General Life Assurance Company, and the less frequent Courts of Assistants of the Society of Apothecnries, and had attended a meeting at the first-named society only twelve days before his decease. At this meeting it was observed by some of his brother directors that they would hardly see him again at the Board a prophetic declaration, truly, for three days afterwards, viz., on Nov. 13th, he retired very early to his bedroom, which he never again left alive. His illness much resembled former attacks, but there was a greater prostration of strength, in which the mind, "hitherto so strong, partially suffered ; yet this was the cause of a blessing to himself and to his relatives, for having earnestly desired once more to receive the Holy Communion, and the day on which he was most equal to the exertion being one of universal excitement the day appointed for the funeral of the late Duke of Wellington so that the administration of the sacrament could not then be accomplished, his mind became impressed, doubtless by the permission of the Almighty, with the belief that he had partaken of this blessed communion, MERRIMAN. 359 and he calmly awaited that call which was to summon him to the reward of his earnest and unceasing endeavours, in a truly Christian spirit, to perform his duties in equal measure to every one with whom he came in contact. Four days afterwards, viz., Nov. 22, 1852, he quietly breathed his last, in fervent prayer for all whom he was leaving, just four weeks after the completion of his eighty-first year. Though Dr. Merriman had only three children of his own, yet he had the charge of five grand-nephews and grand-nieces to his wife. Three of these he educated from childhood, put them out in the w r orld, and ever received them in his own house as a father; the others were not thrown on his hands during early childhood, but were entirely brought up by him afterwards. His family was, therefore, virtually eight children, and the burden fell heavily upon him in his early professional career, when his income depended ail but entirely upon his own exertions; but his spirit was one to labour for the pleasure of seeing others enjoy the fruits of that labour. For years he was never absent from home more than one or two days in the year; but he laboured on, rejoicing that his exertions in London were enabling others to recreate their health and strength in the country. His thoughts were never for himself, but on what he could do to benefit others who depended upon him. Such a man could not be rich, for though his receipts were large, his liberality expended freely : for a friend to require assistance was enough he gave willingly, and did not always receive again. Such is the character of one whose childhood was spent in moderate affluence, his youth in difficulties, and his manhood in exertions to benefit others without regard to the labours imposed on himself. 360 SIR HENRY HALFORD. THIS distinguished member of the medical profession was the second son (the eldest son having died at an earlj period) of Dr. James Vaughan, an eminent phy- sician at Leicester, and was born in that town, on the 2nd of October, 1766. He was educated at Rugby, and whilst there evinced that love of classical litera- ture for which he was afterwards so distinguished. He went from Rugby to Christchurch, Oxford, and as a member of that house, proceeded A.B., 31st January, 1788; A.M., 17th June, 1788; M.B., 14th January, 1790; M.D., 27th October, 1791.* Previously to taking his degrees in physic, he had spent some months in Edinburgh, and he practised for a short time in conjunction with his father at Leicester. Dr. Vaughan came to London about 1792, and consulting Sir George Baker on his future prospects, was told that he stood little chance in the metropolis for five years, during which time he must continue to support himself from other sources at the rate of about 300 a year. Nothing daunted, and doubtless confident in his own powers, he, with this intention (and the alternative, in case of failure, of returning to Leicester, to take his father's position), borrowed 1,000, and on that * Such were the dates of Sir Henry Halford's degrees as given in the " Catalogue of Oxford Graduates," 8vo., Oxford, 1851. ETALFORD. 361 capital commenced his career in London. He was elected physician to the Middlesex Hospital, on the 20th of February, 1793; was admitted a candidate of the Royal College of Physicians on the 25th of March, 1793; and a fellow, on the 14th of April, 1794. His Oxford connexions, elegant attainments, and pleasing manners at once introduced him into good society, and he secured a position among the aris- tocracy by his marriage on the 31st of March, 1795, to the Hon. Elizabeth Barbara St. John, the third daughter of John, eleventh Lord St. John, of Bletsoe. Dr. Vaughan's success from the very first would seem to have been certain ; and Dr. Richard AVarren, then one of the leading physicians in London, and a man of shrewd observation and sound judgment, predicted on his settling in town that he would rise to the head of his profession. His progress towards that position was rapid. In 1793, within a year of his settlement in London, he was appointed physician- extraordinary to the king ; and by the year 1800, his private engagements had become so numerous, that he was compelled to relinquish his hospital appoint- ment. Other circumstances conspired to advance his interests. After the death of Lady Denbigh, widow of his mother's cousin, Sir Charles Halford, he became possessed of an ample fortune, changed his same in 1809, by act of parliament, from Yaughan to Halford, and as a mark of royal favour, was created a baronet on the 27th of September, 1809. About this time, when in attendance on the Princess Amelia, King George III. desired him, in case of his Majesty's experiencing a relapse of his mental derangement, to take the care of him, adding 362 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. that Sir Henry must promise not to leave him, and if he wanted further help, he should call Dr. Heberden, and in case of further need, which would necessarily occur if Parliament took up the matter, Dr. Buillie. On the illness of the King, which occurred soon afterwards, Sir Henry Halford, though physician- exiraordinary only, was summoned to attend ; and his prompt introduction of Dr. Heberden and Dr. Baillie, at once insured the confidence of the Queen and of the Prince of Wales, the latter of whom appointed Sir Henry one of his physicians-in-ordinary, and secured for him in 1812 the appointment of physician-in-ordinary to the King. The confidence then reposed in Sir Henry by the Prince was con- tinued when the latter came to the throne, he was appointed physician-in-ordinary to George IV., and he held the same position in the medical establish- ments of William IV., and of her present Majesty, Queen Victoria. Sir Henry Halford was thus physi- cian-in-ordinary to four successive sovereigns an honour never before enjoyed by any English physi- cian. At the death-bed of three of these it was his melancholy privilege to minister. Almost every member of the Royal Family from the time of George III. had been under Sir Henry's professional care. His attentions to the Duke of York during his last illness were so unremitting, that to manifest the sense entertained of them, he received, by Royal warrant, a grant of armorial augmentations and supporters. His arms were previously : argent, a greyhound passant, sable; on a chef azure, three fleurs- de-lis, or. For the centre fleur-de-lis was substituted a rose argent, and in further augmentation, was added HALFORD. 303 on a canton ermine, a staff entwined with a serpent proper, and ensigned with a coronet, composed of crosses patee and fleurs-de-lis (being that of a prince of the blood-royal). As a crest of augmentation, a staff entwined with a serpent, or, as on the canton. As supporters, two emews proper, each gorged with a coronet, composed of crosses patee and fleurs-de-lis. Upon the decease of George IV., Sir Henry re- ceived another flattering proof of royal esteem and appreciation: a very splendid clock, surmounted by a bust of his Majesty, was presented to him by the Royal Family, in evidence, as the inscription states, " of their esteem and regard, and in testimony of the high sense they entertain of his professional abilities nd unwearied attention to their late beloved sister, the Princess Amelia, her late Majesty Queen Char- lotte, his late Majesty King George III., his late Royal Highness the Duke of York, and, lastly, of his Majesty George IV." Sir Henry Halford's progress and eminence among his professional brethren, and in the College of Phy- sicians, were no less rapid and distinguished than with the public and the royal family. His attain- ments as a practical physician were of the very highest order. Though inferior, it is said, to Dr. Baillie in accuracy of diagnosis, he was undoubtedly superior to him in that which constitutes the real aim and office of the physician the cure and alleviation of disease. In this point of view, Sir Henry Halford attained to consummate skill. Endowed with quick perception, a sound judgment, and an almost intuitive knowledge of the powers of medicines, he wielded the resources of his art with a confidence, precision, and success, which was unapproached by any of his contempo- raries. For many years he shared with Dr. Baillie 364 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. the highest professional honours, confidence, and emoluments of the metropolis ; and on the deatli of that great anatomist, in 1823, he was left without a rival. Thenceforward, until overtaken by age and illness, he maintained an indisputable pre-eminence in the profession. No sketch of Sir Henry Halford's life would be complete without especial reference to his long and distinguished connexion with the Royal College of Physicians. Throughout the whole of his success- ful career, and even when most oppressed by the arduous and harassing duties of his extensive profes- sional business, Sir Henry was ever attentive to the highest interests of that learned body, and ready and anxious to devote himself, his energies, and influence to the furtherance of its welfare and the maintenance of its dignity. He served the office of Censor in 1795, 1801, 1815 ; he delivered the Harveian Oration in 1800, and again in 1835 ; he was named an Elect, the 6th of February, 1815, and on the 30th of Sep- tember, 1820, was elected President an office to which he was annually and unanimously re-elected, and the duties of which he continued to perform with honour to the College and credit to himself, till his death, on the 9th of March, 1844, in the 78th year of his age. To Sir Henry Halford's energy and exertions the College of Physicians mainly owe their removal from Warwick-lane to Pall Mall East. The inconveni- ence of the former situation, the rapidly increasing and almost irremediable dilapidations of the buildings of the old College, with the consequent deterioration of the property, had long been seen and lamented. Various attempts towards repair or removal had been made, but each and all had proved abortive. On HALFORD. 365 Sir Henry's election to the ofBce of President, he applied his energies to the furtherance of an object which the fellows had much at heart, but had not dared to encounter. Mainly through Sir Henry Halford's influence, a grant of the ground on which the College now stands was obtained from the Crown ; the fellows lent their pecuniary aid by donations, subscriptions, and loans ; the present col- lege was commenced, and on the 25th of June, 1825, was opened by Sir Henry Halfbrd with an eloquent Latin oration, delivered to an audience of upwards of three hundred persons, among whom were their Royal Highnesses the Dukes of York, Sussex, Cambridge, Gloucester, the Prince Leopold, and a brilliant assemblage of the most noble and learned of the land. The King, on the morning of the opening of the College had been graciously pleased to confer on the President the star of a Knight-Commander of the Guelphic Order, and William 1\ T . subse- quently promoted him to be Grand Cross. Sir Henry, in testimony of his appreciation of the "noble exertions" which the fellows had made to furnish the means of rebuilding the College, munifi- cently defrayed the expenses (amounting to 300) of the splendid collation provided on the occasion of the opening. The debt of gratitude due from the College of Phy- sicians to Sir Henry Halford, for his unwearied exer- tions in its behalf, cannot be overrated. It has been respectfully acknowledged in several of the Harveian Orations in none, however, with equal elegance, or with so happy a sketch of the President's character, as in the eloquent oration of 1848 by Dr. Francis Hawkins : " Ecquis enim unquam fuit, vel Medicus clarior, vel litteris perpolitior, vel Collegii amantior. 366 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. vel omnibus fere acceptior ? Sit mihi fas in hoc dilecto nomine paulisper immorari. Erat, ut nostis, ad morbos dijudicandos sagax, ad sublevandos pol- lens ; ingenii acumine, remediorum copia, pariter insignis. Nolite autem existimare, Auditores, eum ingenii vi aut acumine tantammodo esse confisum. Vobis ego hoc confirmare possum, vel diligentissime eum juvenilem aetatem egisse. Tuto, prius, et scien- ter, armis uti perdidicerat, quam celeriter et venuste. Studio igitur et labore extitit Medicus, plenus et per- fectus, cui nihil neque a Natura denegatum, neque a Doctrina non delatum esse videretur. " Mores hominum et vitse consuetudinem apprime callebat; atque is erat qui, facillime citissimeque, mentes omnium sensusque degustaret. Ejus erat proprium maxime, ' scire uti foro ; ' et laus ea, non ultima " ' Principibus placuisse viris.' Erga omnes erat benevolus, quippe, suapte natura, suavis et benignus ; quippe, cum dolentibus optime mederi soleret, a dolore quovis animanti cuiquam incutiendo refugiebat. Itaque, vir erat plurimis amicitiis, inimicitiis perpaucis aut nullis : nam si forte dissensio aliqua incidisset, quamprimum redire in gratiam gestiebat animus. " Ardebat, mihi credite, singular! quodam amore in hoc Collegium, cui, tamdiu, omnium concessu, praBfuit. Quid enim ? testabor has ipsas sedes ? quas, maximis curis et laboribus suis, nobis adparavit ; quas dedicavit oratione pura sic, ut Latine loqui poene solus videretur; quas igitur ei, quern prope dixerim Conditorem nostrum quintum, perpetuo fore monumento prorsus existimo. Hie, hie inquam, si quaBrat quispiam Halfordi monumentum, circumspi- ciat." HALFORD. 367 Sir Henry Halford was a Fellow of the Royal and Antiquarian Societies, and a trustee of Rugby School ; and, in virtue of his office as President of the College of Physicians, was President of the National Vaccine Establishment, and a Trustee of the British Museum. He died from the effects of natural decay, attended with much neuralgic pain, at his house in Curzon- street, May Fair, on the 9th of March, 1844, and was buried in the Church of Wistow, Leicestershire, where a monument to his memory bears the following inscription : HENRICO HALFORD, Baronetto, G.C.H., Ex . > T- ,>'**-* "^"> -*> ;,9 >"^ -^.--k --:> -- \ * > X> : V'jg^ >^'--s^: *$ *:> > i >.-o ^y-> .^** ^">i> >.>- >.>;.^ =5rf^, * >,i > > .1 > >> : j o > * M f yyvW? V^M