Clergymen and Doctors 6

Clergymen and Doctors 6

EXTRAVAGANCES OF THE HERRNHUTERS.

 

In a letter to Count Zinzendorf--the founder of the community of

Moravian Brethren at Herrnhut, in Upper Lusatia--who visited England

about 1745, Whitfield thus describes and rebukes some of the

extravagant flummeries then practised by the Moravians: "Pray, my Lord,

what instances have we of the first Christians walking round the graves

of their deceased friends on Easter day, attended with hautboys,

trumpets, French horns, violins, and other kinds of musical

instruments? Or where have we the least mention made of pictures of

particular persons being brought into the Christian assemblies, and of

candles being placed behind them in order to give a transparent view of

the figures? Where was it ever known that the picture of the Apostle

Paul, representing him handing a gentleman and lady up to the side of

Jesus Christ, was ever introduced into the primitive love-feasts?...

Again, my Lord, I beg leave to inquire whether we hear anything in

scripture of eldresses or deaconesses of the apostolical churches

seating themselves before a table covered with artificial flowers, and

against that a little altar surrounded with wax tapers, on which stood

a cross, composed either of mock or real diamonds, or other glittering

stones? And yet your Lordship must be sensible this was done in Fetter

Lane Chapel, for Mrs. Hannah Nitschman, the present general eldress of

your congregation; with this addition, that all the sisters were

seated, clothed in white, and with German caps; the organ also

illuminated with three pyramids of wax tapers, each of which was tied

with a red ribbon; and over the head of the general eldress was placed

her own picture, and over that (_horresco referens_) the picture of the

Son of God. A goodly sight this, my Lord, for a company of English

Protestants to behold!... A like scene to this was exhibited by the

single brethren in a room of their house at Hatton Garden. The floor

was covered with sand and moss, and in the middle of it was paved a

star of different-coloured pebbles; upon that was placed a gilded dove,

which spouted water out of its mouth into a vessel prepared for its

reception, which was curiously decked with artificial leaves and flags;

the room was hung with moss and shell; the Count, his son, and

son-in-law, in honour of whom all this was done, with Mrs. Hannah

Nitschman, and Mr. Peter Boehlen, and some other labourers, were also

present. These were seated under an alcove, supported by columns made

of pasteboard, and over their heads was painted an oval in imitation of

marble, containing cyphers of Count Zinzendorf's family. Upon a

side-table was a little altar covered with shells, and on each side of

the altar was a bloody heart, out of, or near which, proceeded flames.

The room was illuminated with wax tapers, and musicians played in an

adjoining apartment, while the company performed their devotions, and

regaled themselves with sweetmeats, coffee, tea, and wine." Mr.

Whitfield also mentions a "singular expedient" made use of to raise the

drooping spirits of one Mr. Bell, who had been induced to join the

Brethren. On his birthday, he was sent for by Mr. Peter Boehlen, one of

the bishops, and "was introduced into a hall, where was placed an

artificial mountain, which, upon singing a particular verse, was made

to fall down, and then behind it was discovered an illumination,

representing Jesus Christ and Mr. Bell sitting very near, or embracing

each other; and out of the clouds was also represented plenty of money

falling round Mr. Bell and the Saviour." Towards the close of his

career, Count Zinzendorf applied himself, and not without success, to

undo a good deal of the extravagant and unseemly work of former years,

both in his devotional hymns and forms.

 

 

AN AWKWARD ASSOCIATION.

 

In his _Jest-book_, Mr. Lemon tells the following capital story of

awkward association:--"In a cause tried in the Court of Queen's Bench,

the plaintiff being a widow, and the defendants two medical men who had

treated her for delirium tremens, and put her under restraint as a

lunatic, witnesses were called on the part of the plaintiff to prove

that she was not addicted to drinking. The last witness called by Mr.

Montagu Chambers, the leading counsel, on the part of the plaintiff,

was Dr. Tunstal, who closed his evidence by describing a case of

delirium tremens treated by him, in which the patient recovered in a

single night. 'It was,' said the witness, 'a case of gradual drinking,

sipping all day, from morning till night.' These words were scarcely

uttered, than Mr. Chambers, turning to the Bench, said, 'My Lord, that

is my case.'"

 

 

TURNING-POINT IN PALEY'S CAREER.

 

When Paley first went to Cambridge, he fell into a society of young men

far richer than himself, to whom his talents and conviviality made him

an acceptable companion, and he was in a fair way for ruin. One morning

one of these comrades came into his bedroom before he was up, and he,

as usual, thought it was to propose some plan of pleasure for the day.

His friend, however, said, "Paley, I have not slept a wink this night

for thinking of you. I am, as you know, heir to such and such a

fortune, and whether I ever look in a book at Cambridge does not

signify a farthing. But this is not the case with you. You have only

your abilities to look to; and no man has better, if you do but make

the proper use of them. But if you go on in this way, you are ruined;

and from this time forward I am determined not to associate with you,

for your own sake. You know I like your company, and it is a great

sacrifice to give it up; but give it up I will, as a matter of

conscience." Paley lay in bed the whole day, ruminating upon this. In

the evening he rose and took his tea, ordered his bed-maker to make his

fire overnight, and call him at five in the morning; and from that day

forward he rose always at that hour. He went out first wrangler, and

became the fortunate man he was. This story was told to Southey in

1808, by Mr. Brome, who had it from an intimate friend of Paley.

 

 

THE DANGERS OF TOO GOOD COMPANY.

 

George I. liked to temper the cares of royalty with the pleasures of

private life, and commonly invited six or eight friends to pass the

evening with him. His Majesty seeing Dr. Lockier one day at court,

desired the Duchess of Ancaster, who was almost always of the party, to

ask the Doctor to come that evening. When the company met in the

evening, Dr. Lockier was not there; and the King inquired of the

Duchess if she had invited him. "Yes," she said; "but the Doctor

presents his humble duty to your Majesty, and hopes your Majesty will

have the goodness to excuse him at present; he is soliciting some

preferment from your Majesty's Ministers, and fears it may be some

obstacle to him, if it should be known that he had the honour of

keeping such good company." The King laughed very heartily, and said he

believed he was in the right. Not many weeks after, Dr. Lockier kissed

the King's hand as Dean of Peterborough; and as he was rising from

kneeling, the King inclined forwards, and with great good-humour

whispered in his ear, "Well, now, Doctor, you will not be afraid to

come in an evening; I would have you come this evening;" an invitation

which was very readily accepted.

 

 

ANECDOTES OF ABERNETHY.

 

John Abernethy, the pupil and friend of John Hunter, was remarkable for

eccentricity and _brusquerie_ in his dealings with patients. But there

are many instances to show that his roughness was only external, and

that a very soft and gentle heart beat in his bosom. He was sometimes

successfully combated with his own weapons. A lady on one occasion

entered his consulting-room, and showed him an injured finger, without

saying a word. In silence Abernethy dressed the wound; silently the

lady put the usual fee on the table, and retired. In a few days she

came again, and offered the finger for inspection. "Better?" asked the

surgeon. "Better," answered the lady, speaking for the first time. Not

another word followed during the interview. Three or four visits were

made, in the last of which the patient held out her finger perfectly

healed. "Well?" was Abernethy's inquiry. "Well," was the lady's answer.

"Upon my soul, madam," exclaimed the delighted surgeon, "_you are the

most rational woman I ever met with_!" "I had heard of your rudeness

before I came, Sir," another and less fortunate lady said, taking his

prescription; "but I was not prepared for such treatment. What am I to

do with this?" "Anything you like," the surgeon roughly answered. "Put

it on the fire if you please." Taking him at his word, the lady put her

fee on the table, and the prescription on the fire, and, making a bow,

left the room. Abernethy followed her, apologizing, and begging her to

take back the fee or let him write another prescription; but the lady

would not relent. When the bubble schemes were flourishing in 1825, Mr.

Abernethy met some friends who had risked large sums of money in one of

those speculations; they informed him that they were going to partake

of a most sumptuous dinner, the expenses of which would be defrayed by

the company. "If I am not very much deceived," replied he, "you will

have nothing but bubble and squeak in a short time."

 

 

BLOMFIELD'S REBUKE TO NON-RESIDENT RECTORS.

 

Dr. Blomfield, Bishop of London, had occasion to call the attention of

the Essex incumbents to the necessity of residing in their parishes;

and he reminded them that curates were, after all, of the same flesh

and blood as rectors, and that the residence which was possible for the

one, could not be quite impossible for the other. "Besides," added he,

"there are two well-known preservatives against ague: the one is, a

good deal of care and a little port wine; the other, a little care and

a good deal of port wine. I prefer the former; but if any of the clergy

prefer the latter, it is at all events a remedy which incumbents can

afford better than curates."

 

 

DEVOTION OF A CATHOLIC PRIEST.

 

In a parish close to Dublin, it is on record that a Catholic priest was

called on to administer the solemn rites of his religion to a family in

the last stage of typhus fever. The family, six or seven in number,

were found lying in a wretched hovel, on a little straw scattered on

the damp earthen floor. The agonies of death were fast coming upon

them. The confession of each one of them had to be heard. Lest any

should overhear the confession of another, the priest stretched himself

on the straw, while the miserable sufferer breathed his or her

confession into his ear. Thus, inhaling the poison of their

respiration, and separating them from each other successively, at the

risk of his own life, he completed his sacred functions.

 

 

PULPIT JOKES OF DANIEL BURGESS.

 

Daniel Burgess, the noted Nonconformist minister, was by no means of

Puritan strictness, for he was the most facetious person of his day,

and carried his wit so far as to retail it from the pulpit with more

levity than decency. Speaking of Job's "robe of righteousness," he once

said, "If any of you would have a suit for a twelvemonth, let him

repair to Monmouth Street; if for his lifetime, let him apply to the

Court of Chancery; but if for all eternity, let him put on the robe of

righteousness." The sermons of Burgess were adapted to the prejudices

as well as the opinions of his hearers--wit and Whiggism went hand in

hand with scripture. He was strongly attached to the House of

Brunswick, and would not uphold the Pretender's cause from the pulpit.

He once preached a sermon, about that time, on the reason why the Jews

were called Jacobites, in which he said, "God ever hated Jacobites, and

therefore Jacob's sons were not so called, but Israelites!"

 

 

PHYSICIANS AND THEIR FEES.

 

Perhaps regarding nothing connected with the science and practice of

medicine, or the lives of its professors, are there more stories told,

more curious facts on record, more interesting exhibitions of character

and touching displays of generosity to relate, than about the giving

and taking--or not taking--of fees. In stringing together some

memoranda and anecdotes on this head, it needs only to be said that

they are but a few out of a crowd. At the outset, it may be explained

that from very early times the fee of the physician (like that of the

advocate or the university professor) was regarded in the light of a

voluntary recognition or reward for services rendered out of pure love

of science or humanity. Dr. Doran alleges, indeed, that "there is a

religious reason why fees are supposed not to be taken by physicians.

Amongst the Christian martyrs are reckoned the two eastern brothers,

Damian and Cosmas. They practised as physicians in Cilicia, and they

were the first mortal practitioners who refused to take recompense for

their work. Hence they were called Anargyri, or 'without money.' All

physicians are pleasantly supposed to follow this example. They never

take fees, like Damian and Cosmas; but they meekly receive what they

know will be given out of Christian humility, and with a certain or

uncertain reluctance, which is the nearest approach that can be made in

these times to the two brothers who were in partnership at Egea in

Cilicia." It has very naturally, however, been objected that physicians

act from no such lofty motives, but merely because they prefer that the

gratitude or the fears of the patient should be the measure of their

reward. And yet, as Mr. Wadd forcibly remarks, "it is a fact, not less

singular than true, that the advancement of surgical science is a

benefit conferred on society at the expense of the scientific

practitioner, since in proportion as the mode of cure is _tuto et

celeriter_, safe and speedy, remuneration is diminished. Perhaps in no

instance is this better exemplified than in the operation of the

hydrocele, introduced by my late friend and master, Sir James Earle.

Compare the simplicity, safety, and celerity of this, with the bustle

and bloody brutality of the old system; the business of six weeks

reduced to so many days! But mark the consequence, _quâ honorarium_:

does the patient increase the fee for the pain and misery he is spared?

Not a bit of it. Here is little or no work done; no trouble to the

doctor; no pain to the patient; therefore, nothing to pay for....

Selden, who understood these failings in mankind vastly well, gives

them a sly hit in his _Table Talk_:--'If a man had a sore leg, and he

should go to an honest, judicious chirurgeon, and he should only bid

him keep it warm, and anoint it with such an oil (an oil well known)

that would do the cure, haply he would not much regard him, because he

knows the medicine beforehand, an ordinary medicine. But if he should

go to a surgeon that should tell him, your leg will gangrene within

three days and it must be cut off, and you will die unless you do

something that I could tell you, what listening there would be to this

man! Oh, for the Lord's sake, tell me what this is, I will give you any

content for your pains!'" Not only has this loss of reward through the

devising of new appliances for preventing human suffering, not made

medical men, as a rule, one whit less anxious to devise them, or adopt

them when devised; but it is in the experience of all, that in many

cases physicians can render services gratuitously, which they would

never have had the opportunity of rendering if it was not understood,

both by themselves and the suffering, that they gave their skill

cheerfully for God's sake as for gold's sake, to those who were unable

to appeal to the latter power.

 

_Ancient Fees of Magnitude._--Seleucus--the one of Alexander's generals

to whom the kingdom of Syria fell at the break-up of the empire of

Macedonian conquest--gave to Erasistratus 60,000 crowns "for

discovering the disorder of his son Antiochus." Alcon, whose dexterity

is celebrated in Martial's _Epigrams_, was repaid by the public, in the

course of a few years' practice, the sum of 10,000,000 sesterces

(£80,000) which he had lost by a law-suit. Four Roman physicians,

Aruntius, Calpetanus, Rubrius, and Albutius, for their attendance on

Augustus and his two immediate successors, enjoyed each an annual

salary of 250,000 sesterces, equal to £2000 sterling.

 

_Early English Fees._--In 1345, Edward III. granted to his apothecary,

Coursus de Gungeland, a pension of sixpence a-day; and "Ricardus Wye,

chirurgicus," had twelve pence per day, and eight marks per year, for

his services. Under the same king, "Willielmus Holme, chirurgicus

Regis," is rewarded with the permission, during his lifetime, "to hunt,

take, and carry off wild animals of all kinds, in any of the royal

forests, chases, parks, and warrens." In the Courts of the kings of

Wales, the physician or surgeon was the twelfth person in rank, and his

fees seem to have been fixed by law. For a flesh wound, not of a

dangerous character, he got nothing but such of the wounded man's

garments as the blood had stained; but for any of the three classes of

dangerous wounds, he had in addition 180 pence, and his maintenance so

long as his services might be in requisition.

 

_Fees in the reign of Henry VIII. and Elizabeth._--In the record of

expenses of the Earl of Cumberland, it is stated that he paid to a

physician of Cambridge £1; but this fee was evidently, as shown by

other entries, an exceptionally liberal one, even perhaps for a noble

to pay. In the 18th year of Henry VIII., as is mentioned in Burn's

_History of Westmoreland_, Sir Walter Strickland made a bargain with a

physician to cure him of an asthma for £20. Stow, in the same reign,

complimenting British physicians on their skill and learning, mentions

"as the great grievance that the inferior people are undone by the

exorbitance of their fees." Half-a-crown, he avers, is in Holland

looked on as a large fee; whereas in England "a physician scorns to

touch any metal but gold; and our surgeons are still more

unreasonable." Queen Elizabeth's physician in ordinary received £100

per annum, besides his sustenance, wine, wax, and other necessaries or

perquisites. Her apothecary, Hugo Morgan, for one quarter's bill had

£83, 7s. 8d.; but this was not all for medicines, as such entries as

this will show:--eleven shillings for a confection shaped like a _manus

Christi_, with bezoar stone and unicorn's horn; sixteenpence for a

royal sweetmeat with incised rhubarb; six shillings for "a conserve of

barberries, with preserved damascene plums, and other things for Mr.

Ralegh;" two shillings and sixpence for sweet scent to be used at the

christening of Sir Richard Knightley's son; and so on.

 

_Fees after the Revolution._--At the close of the sixteenth and opening

of the seventeenth century, the fee of the physician had tended towards

fixity, as regards the _minimum_ at least, which was ten shillings.

This appears from several incidental contemporary statements, as in the

satirical dialogue of "Physick lies a-bleeding; or the Apothecary

turned Doctor" (published in 1697, during the war of the "Dispensary"),

in which one of the characters, called on to pay eighteen shillings for

medicine for his wife and a crown by way of gratuity to the apothecary,

says: "I wish you had called a doctor; perhaps he would have advised

her to have forbore taking anything, at least as yet, so I had saved

13s. in my pocket." In 1700, as appears from the _Levamen Infirmi_, the

existence of _minimum_ and _maximum_ fees appears to have been quite

recognised:--"To a graduate in physick, his due is about ten shillings,

though he commonly expects or demands twenty. Those that are only

licensed physicians, their due is no more than six shillings and

eightpence, though they commonly demand ten shillings. A surgeon's fee

is twelve-pence a mile, be his journey far or near; ten groats to set a

bone broke, or out of joint; and for letting blood, one shilling; the

cutting off or amputation of any limb is five pounds, but there is no

settled price for the cure."

 

_Sir Theodore Mayerne._--This eminent physician, who was a native of

Geneva, and attended James I. and the two Charleses, once very neatly

and deservedly rebuked a mean and ostentatious friend, who, after

consulting him, laid on the table two broad pieces of gold (of the

value of 36s. each). Sir Theodore quietly pocketed the fee; and, on his

friend expressing or showing himself hurt at thus being taken at his

money, said to him: "I made my will this morning; and if it should

appear that I had refused a fee, I might be deemed _non compos_." Mr.

Wadd caps this anecdote with another about Dr. Meyer Schomberg, who was

much in vogue about the middle of last century. Mr. Martin, the

surgeon, used now and then to visit him; and was once shown in when a

patient was with him. After the patient was gone, Martin noticed two

guineas lying on the table, and asked the doctor how it came that he

left his money about in that way? Said Dr. Schomberg: "I always have a

couple of guineas before me, as an example, or broad hint, what they

(the patients who consulted him) ought to give."

 

_Large Royal Fees in Later Times._--Henry Atkins was sent for to

Scotland by James the First (of England), to attend to the Prince

Charles--afterwards Charles I., but then in his infancy--who lay

dangerously sick. For this journey and duty the King gave Atkins the

splendid fee of £6000, which he invested in the purchase of the manor

of Clapham. In 1685 a very handsome fee was ordered to be paid--but it

was never paid--to Dr. King, for a brave breach of Court etiquette that

saved the life of Charles II. for a time. Evelyn thus relates the

incident, under date 4th February 1685:--"I went to London, hearing his

Majesty had been, the Monday before (2 Feb.), surprised in his

bed-chamber with an apoplectic fit; so that if, by God's providence,

Dr. King (that excellent chirurgeon as well as physician) had not been

actually present, to let him blood (having his lancet in his pocket),

his Majesty had certainly died that moment, which might have been of

direful consequence, there being nobody else present with the king save

this doctor and one more, as I am assured. It was a mark of the

extraordinary dexterity, resolution, and presence of mind in the Dr. to

let him blood in the very paroxysm, without staying the coming of other

physicians; which regularly should have been done, and for want of

which he must have a regular pardon, as they tell me." The Privy

Council ordered £1000 to be given to Dr. King; but he never obtained

the money. The physicians who attended Queen Caroline in 1737 had 500

guineas, and the surgeons 300 guineas, apiece. Dr. Willis, for his

success in dealing with the malady of George III., received £1500

a-year for twenty years, and £650 was settled on his son for life; the

subordinate physicians had thirty guineas for each visit to Windsor,

and ten for each visit to Kew. The Empress Catherine of Russia made Dr.

Dimsdale--a Hertfordshire physician--who, in 1768, travelled to St.

Petersburg to inoculate her and her son, a Baron of the Empire; and

presented him with a fee of £12,000, and a life pension of £500. This

sum of £12,000 is about the largest ever paid, in ancient times or

modern, to one physician for one operation; although there are living

surgeons who from private individuals have received fees that dwarf

this imperial largess into comparative insignificance. Perhaps even

more remarkable, however, than Catherine's liberal payment for good

work, was the Emperor Joseph of Austria's reward for bad news. On his

deathbed his Majesty asked Quarin his opinion of his case, and was

frankly assured, in reply, that he could not expect to live other

forty-eight hours. For this uncourtly but really kind affirmation of

the truth, the Emperor created Quarin a Baron, and conferred on him an

income of £2000. Louis XIV. gave his physician and surgeon 75,000

crowns each, after the successful performance of a painful, and at that

time novel, operation. Beside this, the fees paid by Napoleon I. to the

Faculty who attended Marie Louise in March 1811, when the Emperor's son

was born, are trifling. Dubois, Corvisart, Bourdier, and Ivan, had

amongst them a remuneration of £4000, £2000 being the portion assigned to Dubois.