While the plague raged violently at Marseilles, every link of affection
was broken, the father turned from the child, the child from the father;
cowardice and ingratitude no longer excited indignation. Misery is at
its height when it thus destroys every generous feeling, thus dissolves
every tie of humanity! the city became a desert, grass grew in the
streets; a funeral met you at every step.
The physicians assembled in a body at the Hotel de Ville, to hold a
consultation on the fearful disease, for which no remedy had yet been
discovered. After a long deliberation, they decided unanimously, that
the malady had a peculiar and mysterious character, which opening a
corpse alone might develope--an operation it was impossible to attempt,
since the operator must infallibly become a victim in a few hours,
beyond the power of human art to save him, as the violence of the attack
would preclude their administering the customary remedies. A dead pause
succeeded this fatal declaration. Suddenly, a surgeon named Guyon, in
the prime of life, and of great celebrity in his profession, rose and
said firmly, "Be it so: I devote myself for the safety of my country.
Before this numerous assembly I swear, in the name of humanity and
religion, that to-morrow, at the break of day, I will dissect a corpse,
and write down as I proceed, what I observe." He left the assembly
instantly. They admired him, lamented his fate, and doubted whether he
would persist in his design. The intrepid Guyon, animated by all the
sublime energy which patriotism can inspire, acted up to his word. He
had never married, he was rich, and he immediately made a will; he
confessed, and in the middle of the night received the sacraments. A man
had died of the plague in his house within four and twenty hours.
Guyon, at daybreak, shut himself up in the same room; he took with him
an inkstand, paper, and a little crucifix. Full of enthusiasm, and
kneeling before the corpse, he wrote,--"Mouldering remains of an
immortal soul, not only can I gaze on thee without horror, but even with
joy and gratitude. Thou wilt open to me the gates of a glorious
eternity. In discovering to me the secret cause of the terrible disease
which destroys my native city, thou wilt enable me to point out some
salutary remedy--thou wilt render my sacrifice useful. Oh God! thou wilt
bless the action thou hast thyself inspired." He began--he finished the
dreadful operation, and recorded in detail his surgical observations. He
left the room, threw the papers into a vase of vinegar, and afterward
sought the lazaretto, where he died in twelve hours--a death ten
thousand times more glorious than the warrior's, who, to save his
country, rushes on the enemy's ranks,--since he advances with hope, at
least, sustained, admired, and seconded by a whole army.