The Funny Side of Physic Part 75

Goldsmith was an excellent, kind-hearted man; and if he had only got married and had a good wife to develop him, he would have been a greater man than he was.

It has been intimated in these pages that Shakspeare was prejudiced against medicine,--throwing "physic to the dogs;" but it is evident from a careful perusal of his works that Shakspeare was ignorant, and also superst.i.tious, as respects this much abused science. Of the superst.i.tions we need not further treat, but refer the intelligent reader to any of his plays for the truth of our intimation.

In Act II., Scene 1, of Coriola.n.u.s, he says by Menenius Agrippa, the friend of Coriola.n.u.s, "It gives me an estate of seven years' health, in which time I will make a lip at the physician; the most sovereign prescription of Galen is but empirical," etc. Coriola.n.u.s was banished from Rome, and died in the fifth century before Christ (about 490), and Galen was not born till six hundred years afterwards, viz.,--A. D. 130.

We should smile to see the Apollo Belvedere with "gla.s.ses on his nose,"--as many of our young ape-ollos now wear for _effect_; but it would scarcely be less ridiculous than Gloster saying in Lear, "I shall not want spectacles." King Lyr reigned during the earliest period of the Anglo-Saxon history, and spectacles were not introduced into England until the beginning of the fourteenth century. It is said that the painter Cigoli in his representation of the aged Simeon at the circ.u.mcision of Christ, made this same error by placing spectacles on the patriarch's nose.

More ludicrous than either of the above is the painting by Albert Durer, the German artist (about 1515), of his scene, "Peter denying Christ,"

wherein he represents a Roman soldier leaning against the door-post comfortably smoking a tobacco pipe. The pipe, to which Germans are particularly partial, was just being introduced during Durer's latter years. The tobacco was not introduced into Europe until 1496, and was, when first burned, twisted together.[8]

The Spaniards, in their report on their return from the first voyage of Columbus said that "the savages would twist up long rolls of tobacco leaves, _and lighting one end, smoke away like devils_." (The primitive cigar.)

ANCIENT GREEK AUTHORS.

Nearly all the ancient Greek physicians were authors of no mean calibre, considering the age in which they lived.

Pherecydes, a Greek philosopher and physician, wrote a book on diet during the sixth century before Christ. Pythagoras, his ill.u.s.trious pupil, was said to be the first who dissected animals. He wrote, and taught anatomy and physiology, in the school of Crotona. Herodotus was a great teacher and writer; also Herophilus, his pupil. (B. C. 4th century.) There were four physicians named Hippocrates. The second of that name has nearly eclipsed all the others. The period in which he lived was highly favorable to the development of the qualities of the great Hippocrates. He was contemporary with Plato, Herodotus, who was his teacher, Pericles, Socrates, Thucydides, etc.

The most notable works of Hippocrates are 1st and 3d "Books on Epidemics,"

"Prognostics," "Treatise on Air and Water," "Regime of Acute Diseases,"

and "Treatise on Wounds."

Herac.l.i.tus, of Ephesus, is conjectured to be the first who dissected the human body. "The principle of his theory is the recognition of the fire of life and the ethereal element of wisdom as the ground of all visible existence." Fragments of his writings, only, have been preserved. He imitated Pythagoras.

Theophrastus wrote a book on plants. He lived to be one hundred and seven years old.

Herophilus first made diagnosis by the pulse, upon which he wrote a book.

Celsus was the author of eight works, yet Pliny makes no mention of him.

Galen spoke of him as an excellent physician and writer; also Bostock.

Galen was a man of great talent and education. Suidas--11th century--says he wrote no less than five hundred books on medicine, and half as many on other subjects. His native tongue was Greek, but he also wrote in Latin and Persic.

Besides medicine, the above famous physicians wrote on philosophy, history, religion, etc. Poetry in those days was little more than heroic, or epic, prose.

THE DUKE ANSWERED BY A COUNTRY MISS.

Since I am not writing a medical history, I need not go on to quote the long list of the names of those who from the old Greek days to the present time have been both authors and successful medical pract.i.tioners. Their bare names would fill a large volume, and who would care to read them? To the general reader they would be quite unwelcome. The reason why medical authors are so little known is, that their writings have been too wearisome for the general reader. Such English authors as the satirical Wolcot (Peter Pindar), the courteous essayist Drake, the poetical and nature-loving Davy, and the "single-hearted, affectionate" Dr. Moir, are remembered, while greater and deeper thinkers and writers are, with their works, buried in oblivion.

When the Duke of Kent was last in America (1819), he was one day taking observations in the country, when he entered a cosy little farm-house, where he noticed a pretty young girl, reading a book.

"Do you have books here, my dear?" he asked, contemptuously.

"O, yes, sir," replied the girl naively, "_we have the Bible and Peter Pindar_."

That was a model house. The Bible and fun-provoking "Peter Pindar!" Under such a roof you will find no guile. Here you will avoid the extremes of "_all_ work and no play," for the mind, "that makes Jack a dull boy," and "all play and no work," which "makes him a mere toy."

I have visited some houses in New England where the Bible, and "Baxter's Call to the Unconverted," were the only books to be seen; others where nothing was to be found upon the shelves but a vile collection of novels, such as Mrs. Partington has termed "yaller-cupboard literature." These need no comment, in either case.

THE PILGRIMS AND THE PEAS.

Our only excuse for copying this from Pindar will be found in reading the poem, slightly abbreviated. The pilgrims were ordered by the priest to do penance by walking fifty miles with peas in their shoes.

"The knaves set off upon the same day, Peas in their shoes, to go and pray; But very different their speed, I wot; One of the sinners galloped on, Light as a bullet from a gun, _The other limped as though he'd been shot_.

"One saw the Virgin soon, '_Peccavi!_' cried, Had his soul whitewashed, all so clever, When home again he nimbly hied, Made fit with saints above to live forever!

In coming back, however, let me say, He met his brother rogue about half way, Hobbling with outstretched hand and bending knees, Cursing the souls and bodies of the peas!

His eyes in tears, his cheeks and brows in sweat, Deep sympathizing with his groaning feet.

'How now?' the light-toed, whitewashed pilgrim broke; 'You lazy lubber!'

'You see it,' cried the other. "Tis no joke.

My feet, once hard as any rock, Are now as soft as blubber.'

"'But, brother sinner, do explain How 'tis that you are not in pain; How is't that you can like a greyhound go, Merry as if nought had happened, burn ye?'

'Why,' cried the other, grinning, 'you must know That just before I ventured on my journey, To walk a little more at ease, _I took the liberty to boil my peas_!'"

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE PILGRIM CHEAT.]

LITTLE DAVY AGAIN.

Sir Humphry Davy lived from 1778 to 1829. Coleridge said of him, "Had not Davy been the first chemist, he probably would have been the first poet of the age." He made some important chemical discoveries, overworked his body and brain, and took the pen "to amuse" and recreate himself, but too late, telling us of "the pleasures and advantages of fis.h.i.+ng," etc.

The following verses are from the poem of Dr. David Macbeth Moir, on the death of his darling little boy, who died at the age of five years:--

"Gem of our hearth, our household pride, Earth's undefiled, Could love have saved, thou hadst not died, Our dear, sweet child!

Humbly we bow to Fate's decree; Yet had we hoped that time should see Thee mourn for us, not us for thee, Casa Wappy![9]

"The nursery shows thy pictured wall, Thy bat, thy bow, Thy cloak, thy bonnet, club, and ball; But where art thou?

A corner holds thine empty chair; Thy playthings, idly scattered there, But speak to us of our despair, Casa Wappy!

"Yet 'tis a sweet balm to our despair, Fond, fairest boy, That heaven is G.o.d's, and thou art there, With him in joy!

There past are death and all its woes, There beauty's stream forever flows, And pleasure's day no sunset knows, Casa Wappy!"

"The sole purpose of poetry," says the author of the above beautiful poem, "is to delight and instruct; and no one can be either pleased or profited by what is unintelligible. Mysticism in law is quibbling; mysticism in religion is the jugglery of priestcraft; mysticism in medicine is quackery; and these often serve their crooked purposes well. But mysticism in poetry can have no attainable triumph." Again he says,--

"The finest poetry is that which is most patent to the general understanding, and hence to the approval or disapproval of the common sense of mankind."

Dr. Moir enriched the pages of Blackwood's Magazine for thirty years with his beautiful poems, and occasional prose, which, according to Professor Wilson, "breathed the simplest and purest pathos." He practised medicine and surgery in his native village, six miles from Edinburgh, till the day of his death, which occurred in consequence of a wound caused by the upsetting of his carriage.

I find four physicians by the name of Abercromby, who were excellent physicians, and authors of no little note. One, Patrick, a Scotchman, and physician to James II., had a library second to few physicians of his day. Lancisi, an Italian physician who lived at the same time, possessed a splendid library consisting of thirty thousand volumes. He discovered a set of lost plates of Eustachius, from which he published tables. Lancisi was physician to several popes, and was a master of polite literature, and an author of great distinction.

MORE SCHOOLMASTERS AND TAILORS.

Dr. Richard Blackmore (Sir)--our "schoolmaster turned doctor"--was an author of no small note. "A poet of the time of Dryden in better repute as an honest man and a physician," says a biographer.