"Dr. A. was born in Blanktown, about the year 18--; entered the office of Dr. Bolus, where he studied physic; attended college at Spoon Haven, where he graduated with honors; arrived at eminence in his profession;" and, if defunct, ends, "he died at Mortgra.s.s, and sleeps with his fathers.

_Requiescat in pace._"

In presenting to the public the following little sketches of physicians, I may only say that doctors, of all men, are considered public property, and have suffered more of the public"s kicks and cuffs than any other cla.s.s of men, from the time when Hercules amused himself by setting up old Dr.

Chiron, and shooting poisoned arrows at his vulnerable heel, to the little divertis.e.m.e.nt of the lovely St. Calvin and his consistory in cooking Michael Servetus, the Spanish physician; to the imprisonment of our army surgeons by their "brethren" of the South, that they might not be instrumental in restoring Union soldiers to the ranks; or the more recent imprisonment of a physician without cause, and the wholesale slaughter of students, in the Isle of Cuba.

"THE QUAKER SURGEON."

Dr. Valentine Mott gave no intimation, in his boyhood days, of the great ability that for a time seemed to lie dormant within the after-developed, ma.s.sive, and well-balanced brain of the celebrated surgeon. Except from the fact of his being the son of a country doctor, his schoolmates would as soon have expected to see him turn out a second-rate oyster-man,--suggested by the ominous name of the Bay, at Glen Cove, where Valentine was born,--as to believe that a boy of no more promise would develop into the greatest physician and surgeon of the age! He was reared amongst doctors,--his father, and Dr. Valentine Searnen, and others.

A "plough-boy" is as likely to become an eminent surgeon as is the son of a practising physician. Dr. Willard Parker, one of the most prominent physicians and surgeons of New York city, was born in New Hampshire, in 1802, of humble though most respectable parents. When Willard was but a few years old, his family removed to Middles.e.x County, Ma.s.s., evidently with a hope of bettering their circ.u.mstances. Here Mr. Parker entered more fully upon the practical duties of an agricultural life, instructing his son Willard, when not attending the village school, in the mysteries of "Haw, Buck, and gee up, Dobbin."

Until he was sixteen years old, young Parker was brought up a "plough-boy"

and a tiller of the soil. From a "plough-boy" he became the "master" of a village school, "teaching the young idea how to shoot," which honest pursuit he continued for several years, until he had acc.u.mulated sufficient means to enter Harvard. He was a hard-working student, and his books were not thrown aside when he had obtained a diploma, in 1830.... As a lecturer and operator, Dr. Parker has been most successful.... Since the death of Dr. Valentine Mott, in April, 1865, Professor Parker has been elected president of the New York Inebriate Asylum (Binghamton).

AN ONONDAGA FARMER BOY.

Imagine, dear reader, looking back over the s.p.a.ce of nearly forty years, that you see an uncouth young man, twenty years of age, clad in the coa.r.s.e clothes and cowhide boots of an Onondaga farmer, who, straightening up from his laborious task of potato hoeing, stops for a moment, leaning with one hand upon his hoe, while he wipes the sweat from his handsome, intelligent, though sun-burned brow with a cotton handkerchief in the other. Here is a picture for a painter! Now he seems studiously observing the old village doctor, who, seated in his crazy old gig, drawn by his ancient sorrel mare, is leisurely jogging by on the main turnpike.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE ONONDAGA FARMER BOY.]

"Good evening, Stephen; p"taters doin" well?" says the doctor.

Receiving an affirmative answer, the doctor drives past, and is gone from the sight, but not from the memory, of the young farmer.

"And _that_ is a representative of the science of medicine!"

So saying, the young man "hoed out his row,"--which was his last,--picked up his coat, and returned to the parental mansion, but a few rods distant.

This was the turning-point in his life.

We pa.s.s over twenty years or more.

It is operating-day at Bellevue Hospital, in New York city. A very serious and important operation is about to be performed. Three hundred students and physicians are seated in a semicircle under the great dome of the hospital, in profound silence and intense interest, while the professor and attending surgeon is delivering a brief but comprehensive lecture relative to the forthcoming operation.

The speaker is a man of middle age, medium height, deep, expressive eyes, well-developed brow, with that excellent quality of muscle and nerve that is only the result of earlier out-door exercise and development, with calm deportment and modest speech. "His conciseness of expression and quiet self-possession are evident to every beholder, and comprehensive and congenial to every listener."

Who is this splendid man before whom students and physicians bow in such profound respect and veneration, and to whom even Professors Mott, Parker, Elliott, Clark, etc., give especial attention?

It is Stephen Smith, M. D., once the Onondaga farmer boy!

Says Dr. Francis, of New York, "When a youthful farmer is seen studying the works of learned authors during that portion of the day which is generally set aside for relaxation and pleasing pastime, one may easily predict for him ultimate success in the branch of life that he may choose, provided he follows out the higher instincts of his nature. The same zeal that caused Stephen Smith, farmer, to study at the risk of ease, and meet the fatigue of body with the energies of mind, has ever marked his course in after years."

COMMENCING PRACTICE.

From that excellent work, "Scenes in the Practice of a New York Surgeon,"

by Dr. E. H. Dixon, I copy, with some abbreviation, the following, which the author terms "Leaves from the Log-book of an Unfledged aesculapian:"--

"In the year 1830 I was sent forth, like our long-suffering and much-abused prototype,--old father Noah"s crow,--from the ark of safety, the old St. Duane Street College. I pitched my tent, and set up my trap, in what was then a fashionable up-town street.

"I hired a modest house, and had my arm-chair, my midnight couch, and my few books in my melancholy little office, and I confess that I now and then left an amputating-knife, or some other awful-looking instrument, on the table, to impress the poor women who came to me for advice.

"These little matters, although the "Academy" would frown upon them, I considered quite pardonable. G.o.d knows I would willingly have adopted their most approved method of a splendid residence, and silver-mounted harnesses for my bays; but they were yet in dream-land, eating moonbeams, and my vicious little nag had nearly all this time to eat his oats and nurse his bad temper in his comfortable stable.

"In this miserable way I read over my old books, watered my rose-bushes,--sometimes with tears,--drank my tea and ate my toast, and occasionally listened to the complaint of an unfortunate Irish damsel, with her customary account of "a pain in me side an" a flutterin" about me heart." At rare intervals I ministered to some of her countrywomen in their fulfilment of the great command when placed in the Garden of Eden.

(What a dirty place it would have been if inhabited by Irish women!)

"And thus I spent nearly a year without a single call to any person of character. I think I should have left in despair if it had not been for a lovely creature up the street. She was the wife of a distinguished fish merchant down town.

"This lovely woman was Mrs. Mackerel. I will explain how it was that I was summoned to her ladyship"s mansion, and had the pleasure of seeing Mr.

Mackerel, of the firm of "Mackerel, Haddock & Dun."

"One bitter cold night in January, just as I was about to retire, a furious ring at the front door made me feel particularly amiable! A servant announced the sudden and alarming illness of Mrs. Mackerel, with the a.s.surance that as the family physician was out of town, Mrs. M. would be obliged if I would immediately visit her. Accordingly, I soon found myself in the presence of the accomplished lady, having--I confess it--given my hair an extra touch as I entered the beautiful chamber.

"Mrs. Mackerel was not a bad-tempered lady; she was only a beautiful fool--nothing less, dear reader, or she would have never married old Mackerel. Her charms would have procured her a husband of at least a tolerable exterior. His physiognomy presented a remarkable resemblance to his namesake. Besides, he chewed and smoked, and the combination of the aroma of his favorite luxuries with the articles of his merchandise must have been most uncongenial to the curve of such lips and such nostrils as Mrs. Mackerel"s.

"I was received by Mr. Mackerel in a manner that increased observation has since taught me is sufficiently indicative of the hysterical _finale_ of a domestic dialogue. He was not so obtuse as to let me directly into the true cause of his wife"s nervous attack and his own collectedness, and yet he felt it would not answer to make too light of it before me.

"Mr. and Mrs. M. had just returned from a party. (The party must be the "scape-goat"!) He a.s.sured me that as the lady was in the full enjoyment of health previously, he felt obliged to attribute the cause of her attack and speechless condition--for she spoke not one word, or gave a sign--to the dancing, heated room, and the supper.

"I was fully prepared to realize the powers of ice-cream, cake, oranges, chicken-salad, oysters, sugar-plums, punch, and champagne, and at one moment almost concluded to despatch a servant for an emetic of ipecac; but--I prudently avoided it. Aside from the improbability of excess of appet.i.te through the portal of such a mouth, the lovely color of the cheeks and lips utterly forbade a conclusion favorable to Mr. Mackerel"s solution of the cause.

"I placed my finger on her delicate and jewelled wrist. All seemed calm as the thought of an angel"s breast!

"I was nonplussed. "Could any tumultuous pa.s.sion ever have agitated that bosom so gently swelling in repose?"

"Mackerel"s curious questions touching my sagacity as to his wife"s condition received about as satisfactory a solution as do most questions put to me on the cause and treatment of diseases; and having tolerably befogged him with opinions, and lulled his suspicions to rest, by the apparent innocent answers to his leading questions, he arrived at the conclusion most desirable to him, viz., that I was a fool--a conviction quite necessary in some nervous cases....

"So pleased was Mr. M. with the soothing influences of my brief visit that he very courteously waited on me to the outside door, instead of ordering a servant to show me out, and astonished me by desiring me to call on the patient again in the morning.

"After my usual diversion of investigating "a pain an" a flutterin" about me heart," and an "O, I"m kilt intirely," I visited Mrs. Mackerel, and had the extreme pleasure of finding her quite composed, and in conversation with her fashionable friend, Mrs. Tiptape. The latter was the daughter of a "retired milliner," and had formed a desirable union with Tiptape, the eminent dry goods merchant. Fortunately--for she was a woman of influence--I pa.s.sed the critical examination of Mrs. T. unscathed by her sharp black eyes, and, as the sequel will show, was considered by her "quite an agreeable person."

"Poor Mrs. Mackerel, notwithstanding her efforts to conceal it, had evidently received some cruel and stunning communication from her husband on the night of my summons; her agitated circulation during the fortnight of my attendance showed to my conviction some persistent and secret cause for her nervousness.

"One evening she a.s.sured me that she felt she should now rapidly recover, as Mr. Mackerel had concluded to take her to Saratoga. I, of course, acquiesced in the decision, though my previous opinion had not been asked.

I took a final leave of the lovely woman, and the poor child soon departed for Saratoga.

"The ensuing week there was a sheriff"s sale at Mackerel"s residence. The day following the Mackerels" departure, Mr. Tiptape did me the honor to inquire after the health of my family; and a week later, Master Tiptape having fallen and b.u.mped his dear nose on the floor, I had the felicity of soothing the anguish of his mamma in her magnificent _boudoir_, and holding to her lovely nose the smelling salts, and offering such consolation as her trying position required!"

Thus was commenced the practice of one of the first physicians of New York. The facts are avouched for. The names, of course, are manufactured, to cover the occupation of the parties. The doctor still lives, in the enjoyment of a lucrative and respectable practice, and the love and confidence of his numerous friends and patrons.

Quite as ludicrous scenes could be revealed by most physicians, if they would but take the time to think over their earlier efforts, and the various circ.u.mstances which were mainly instrumental in getting them into a respectable practice.

HOW PROFESSOR EBERLE STARTED.

The young man who has just squeezed through a medical college, and come out with his "sheepskin," who thinks all he then has to do is to put up his sign, and forthwith he will have a crowd of respectable patients, is to be pitied for his verdancy. The great Professor John Eberle "blessed his stars" when, after graduating as "Doctor of Medicine" in the University of Pennsylvania, and making several unsuccessful attempts at practice in Lancaster County, he received the appointment as physician of the "out-door poor" of Philadelphia. After that, his writings, attracting public attention, were mostly contributive to his success and advancement.

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