"In this papyrus are mentioned over 700 different substances from the

animal, vegetable and mineral kingdoms which act as stimulants,

sedatives, motor excitants, motor depressants, narcotics, hypnotics,

analgesics, anodynes, antispasmodics, mydriatics, myotics,

expectorants, tonics, dentifrices, sialogogues, antisialics,

refrigerants, emetics, antiemetics, carminatives, cathartics,

purgatives, astringents, cholagogues, anthelmintics, restoratives,

haematics, alteratives, antipyretics, antiphlogistics, antiperiodics,

diuretics, diluents, diaphoretics, sudorifics, anhydrotics,

emmenagogues, oxytocics, caustics, ecbolics, galactagogues, irritants,

escharotics, caustics, styptics, haemostatics, emollients, demulcents,

protectives, antizymotics, disinfectants, deodorants, parasiticides,

antidotes and antagonists."

Scarcely less interesting than the variety of remedies were their

methods of administration:

"Medicines are directed to be administered internally in the form of

decoctions, infusions, injections, pills, tablets, troches, capsules,

powders, potions and inhalations; and externally, as lotions,

ointments, plasters, etc. They are to be eaten, drunk, masticated or

swallowed, to be taken often once only--often for many days--and the

time {364} is occasionally designated--to be taken mornings, evenings

or at bedtime. Formulas to disguise bad tasting medicaments are also

given." We have no advantage over the early Egyptians even in elegant

prescribing.

With all this activity in Egypt, it is easy to understand that the

other great nations of antiquity also have important chapters in the

history of medicine. The earliest accounts would seem to indicate that

the Chaldeans, the Assyrians and the Babylonians all made significant

advances in medicine. It seems clear that a work on anatomy was

written in China about the year 2000 B.C. Some of the other Eastern

nations made great progress. The Hindoos in particular have in recent

years been shown to have accomplished very good work in medicine

itself. Charaka, a Hindu surgeon, who lived not later than 300 B.C.,

made some fine contributions to the medical literature in Hindostani.

There were hospitals in all these countries, and these provided

opportunities for the practice of surgery. Laparotomy was very

commonly done by Hindu surgeons, and one of the rules enjoined by

Hindu students was the constant habit of visiting the sick and seeing

them treated by experienced physicians. Clinical teaching is often

spoken of as a modern invention, but it is as old as hospital systems,

and they go back to the dawn of history.

It is among the Greeks, however, that the most {365} important

advances in medicine, so far as we are concerned, were made. This is,

however, not so much because of what they did as from the fact that

they were more given to writing, and then their writings have been

better preserved for us than those of other nations. The first great

physician among the Greeks was AEsculapius, of whom, however, we have

only traditions. He is fabled to have been the son of Apollo, the god

of music and the arts, and therefore to have been a near relative of

the Muses. The connection is rather interesting, because sometimes

people try to remove medicine from among the arts that minister to the

happiness of man, and place it among the sciences whose application is

for his profit. Medicine still remains an art, however. The temples of

AEsculapius were the first hospitals, though the priests were not the

only ones who practised medicine, for there were laymen who, after

having served for some time in the hospitals, wandered through the

country under the name of Asclepiads, treating people who were not

able to go to the hospitals or shrines. These evidently, then, were

the first medical schools in Greece as well as the first hospitals.

Six hundred years after AEsculapius came Hippocrates, of Cos, the

Father of Medicine. He undoubtedly had the advantage of many Egyptian

medical traditions and other Oriental medical sources, as well as the

observations made in the hospitals and shrines of AEsculapius. He

{366} wrote some great works in medicine that have never grown old,

Young men do not read them, old men who are over-persuaded of how much

progress is being made by their own generation in medicine neglect

them. The busy practitioner has no time for them. The great teachers

of medicine whom all the professors look up to and who think for us in

each generation turn fondly back to Hippocrates, and marvel at his

acumen of observation and his wonderful knowledge of men and disease.

Sydenham thought that no one had ever written like him, and in our

turn we honor Sydenham by calling him the English Hippocrates.

Boerhaave, Van Swieten, Liancisi, the great fathers of modern clinical

medicine, turned with as much reverence to Hippocrates as does Osler,

the Regius Professor of Medicine at Oxford, in our twentieth century.

Hippocrates wrote 2,500 years ago, but his writing is eternal in

interest and value.

The famous oath of Hippocrates, which used to be read to all the

graduates of medicine, well deserved that honor, for it represents the

highest expression of professional dignity and obligation. There is a

lofty sense of professional honor expressed in it that cannot be

excelled at any period in the world's history. Among other things that

Hippocrates required his adepts in medicine, his medical students when

they graduated into physicians, to swear to was the following: "I will

follow the system of regimen which {367} according to my ability and

judgment I consider for the benefit of my patients, and abstain from

whatever is deleterious and mischievous. I will give no deadly

medicine to man, woman, or child born or unborn. With purity and with

holiness I will pass my life and practise my art, Whatever in

connection with my professional practice, or not in connection with

it, I see or hear in the life of men which ought not to be spoken of

abroad, I shall not divulge, as reckoning that all such should be kept

secret. While I continue to keep this oath inviolate may it be granted

to me to enjoy life and the practice of my art respected by all men in

all times; but should I trespass and violate this oath may the reverse

be my lot."

It is sometimes thought that after the Roman medicine, which was an

imitation of the Greek (though Galen well deserves a place by himself,

and Galen is usually thought of as a Roman though he wrote in Greek

and had obtained his education at Pergamos in Asia Minor), there was

an interregnum in medicine until our own time. This is, however, quite

as much of an assumption as to suppose that the Egyptians had no

medicine--as we used to until we knew more about them--or that

old-time medicine is quite negligible because we were ignorant of its

value, The Middle Ages had much more of medicine than we are likely to

think, and just as soon as the great universities arose at the end of

the {368} twelfth and the beginning of the thirteenth centuries,

medicine gained a new impetus and flourished marvellously. These

university medical schools of the later Middle Ages are models in

their way, and put us to shame in many things. According to a law of

the Emperor Frederick II issued for the Two Sicilies in 1241,

[Footnote 23] three years of preliminary study were required at the

university before a student might take up the medical course, and then

he had to spend four years at medicine, and practise for a year under

the supervision of a physician of experience before he was allowed to

practise for himself. The story of the medicine of this time is all

the more wonderful because subsequent generations forgot about it

until recent years, and supposed that all of this period was shrouded

in darkness. It was probably one of the most brilliant periods in

medical history. Some of the men who worked and taught in medicine at

this time will never be forgotten.

[Footnote 23: For the complete text of this law, the first

regulating the practice of medicine in modern times, also the first

pure drug law, see Walsh's _The Popes and Science_, New York,

Fordham University Press, 1908.]

Probably the greatest of them was Guy de Chauliac, a Papal

chamberlain, whom succeeding generations have honored with the title

of Father of Surgery. His great text-book, the "Chirurgia Magna," was

in common use for several centuries after his death, and is full of

surgical teaching that we are prone to think much {369} more modern.

He trephined the skull, opened the thorax, operated within the

abdomen, declared that patients suffering from wounds of the

intestines would die unless these were sewed up, operated often for

hernia in an exaggerated Trendelenberg position, with the patient's

head down on a board, but said that many more patients were operated

upon for hernia "for the benefit of the surgeon's purse than for the

good of the patient." His directions for the treatment of fractures

and for taxis in hernia were followed for full four centuries after

his time. No wonder that Pagel, the great German historian, declared

that "Chauliac laid the foundation of that primacy in surgery which

the French maintained down to the nineteenth century." Portal, in his

"History of Surgery," declares that "Guy de Chauliac said nearly

everything which modern surgeons say, and his work is of infinite

price, but unfortunately too little read, too little pondered."

Malgaigne declared "the 'Chirurgia Magna' a masterpiece of learned and

luminous writing."

Chauliac's [Footnote 24] personal character, however, is even more

admirable than his surgical knowledge. He was at Avignon when the

black death occurred and carried away one-half the population. He was

one of the few physicians who had the {370} courage to stay. He tells

us very simply that he did stay not because he had no fear, for he was

dreadfully afraid, but he thought it his duty to stay. Toward the end

of the epidemic, he caught the fever but survived it and has written a

fine description of it. He was looked upon as the leader of surgery in

his time, and this is his advice as to what the surgeon should be as

given in the introductory chapter of his "Chirurgia Magna": "The

surgeon should be learned, skilled, ingenious and of good morals; be

bold in things that are sure, cautious in dangers; avoid evil cures

and practices; be gracious to the sick, obliging to his colleagues,

wise in his predictions; be chaste, sober, pitiful and merciful; not

covetous nor extortionate of money; but let the recompense be

moderate, according to the work, the means of the sick, the character

of the issue or event and its dignity." No wonder that Malgaigne says

of him: "Never since Hippocrates has medicine heard such language

filled with so much nobility and so full of matter in so few words."

[Footnote 24: For sketch of Chauliac see _Johns Hopkins Hospital

Bulletin_, 1909, or _Catholic Churchmen in Science_, second series.

Dolphin Press, Philadelphia, 1909.]

The old-time medical traditions of education which in the mediaeval

universities produced such men as William of Salicet and Lanfranc and

Mondeville and Guy de Chauliac, persisted during the next two

centuries in the southern countries of Europe, and then were

transferred to America through Spain. The first American medical

school was not, as has so often been said, at my own Alma Mater, the

University of {371} Pennsylvania, which had its first lectures in

1767, while the Physicians and Surgeons of New York did not come for

some ten years later and Harvard only in the following decade, but in

the medical school of the University of Mexico, where the first

lectures were held in 1578, and where a full medical school was

organized before the end of the sixteenth century. In this medical

school, which during the seventeenth century came to have several

hundred students, the university tradition of the olden time was well

preserved. Three years of preliminary study at the university were

required before a student could take up the course in medicine, and

four years of medical study were required before graduation. We have

some of the text-books, and know much about the curriculum of this old

medical school, and in every way it is worthy of the old university

traditions.

Unfortunately our universities in what is now the United States

developed very slowly. King's College (Columbia) did not become a

university in the sense of having law and medical schools as well as

an undergraduate department until the nineteenth century had almost

begun. Harvard did not have a law school affiliated with it until the

first quarter of the nineteenth century had almost run its course. The

affiliations between the medical schools and the universities in these

cases was only very slight, and the medical schools were entirely in

the hands of the {372} medical faculty, whose main purpose during a

great part of the nineteenth century was to make medical studies as

short as possible and as inexpensive as they could possibly be made

for the faculty, because that left so much more of the fees to be

absorbed by the historic septennate of professors who ruled and

managed the university. The consequence was that during most of the

nineteenth century two terms of four months each were all that was

required for the diploma in medicine in most American medical schools.

Three schools maintained a very high standard by requiring twenty

weeks in each of two calendar years. The medical school that was

considered one of the best in the country, and whose graduates

obtained the highest marks in the army and navy examinations, that of

the University of Virginia, required but two terms of four and

one-half months each which might be taken in the same calendar year,

and then gave the doctor's degree.

It may be as well to say that the doctor's degree or diploma was a

license to practise. There were no State regulations for the practice

of medicine, and no matter how obtained, a diploma allowed practise.

As some one has well said the diploma, then, was a license to

practise, not medicine, the Lord knows! but to practise on one's

patients until one had learned some medicine. It is out of this slough

of despond in medical education that we have climbed in the last

thirty-five years. We are getting back to the {373} old-time

university traditions. Let us hope that we shall not allow ourselves

to get away from them again. There are ups and downs in medical

practice and medical fashions and medical education, and all depends

on the men who compose the profession at any one time and not on any

mythical progress that holds them up and compels them to do better

than those who went before them. The highest compliment that can be

paid to American medicine and medical men is that, in spite of this

handicap of education they did not utterly degenerate, but, on the

contrary, somehow managed to maintain the dignity of the profession

and do much good work.

It is to you to-day, entering on this profession, that we look to do

your share in keeping up the dignity of the medical profession and in

maintaining standards in medical education. We have a glorious

tradition of 6,000 years behind us with the great men of the

profession worshipped as gods at the beginning, because men thought so

much of them, and remembered fondly as great masters when they came in

the after-time. From I-em-Hetep through AEsculapius and Hippocrates

and Galen and Guy de Chauliac and Sydenham and Boerhaave down to our

own time, the men whom we delight to honor are the ones who did not

work with an eye single to their own success, but who tried, above

all, to do things for humanity and for the profession to which they

belonged. The man who is successful as a {374} money-maker in his

profession is only doing half his duty. He must make medicine as well

as money, that is, he must by his observations help others to

recognize and treat disease better than they did before; he must labor

for the benefit of humanity, and, above all, he must see that there

are no decadence of professional spirit and no deterioration of

medical education as far as his influence can go. It is men of this

kind that we hope to send forth from Fordham, and you stand in the van

of them all, and I wish you God-speed.

{375}

UNIVERSITY MEDICAL SCHOOLS

{376}

"Knowledge comes but wisdom lingers."

--Tennyson, _Locksley Hall_.

"The foundation stones of the whole modern structure of human wisdom

have all been laid by the architects of yesterday. Thrice wise is he

who knows the quarries and builders of by-gone ages and is able to

differentiate the stones which have been rejected from those which

have been utilized."

--Anon.

"Ideo Medico id in primis curandum, ut ab aegro circumstantias omnes

accurate intelligat, intellectas consideret, ut inter curandum media

illa adhibeat, quae tollendo morbo apta sunt, ne ex medicina

nocumentum proveniat."

--Basil Valentine, _Triumphal Chariot of Antimony_.

[The physician must therefore especially take care that he

understand all the circumstances of his patient very clearly, and

after understanding them weigh them well, so that during his

treatment he may use those means which are especially suited to

control the disease, lest any harm should come from his medicine.]

{377}

UNIVERSITY MEDICAL SCHOOLS [Footnote 25]

[Footnote 25: Address to the graduates of St. Louis University

Medical and Dental Schools, May 31, 1910, at the Odeon, St. Louis.]

It affords me great pleasure to accept the invitation of your Faculty

to address the graduates of a university medical school here in the

Middle West. I wondered, of course, what I should talk to you about,

and have come to the conclusion that as an historian of medicine any

message I may have for you is likely to come from my own subject. It

so happens that we are just beginning to realize that the history of

medicine may have much greater significance for us than we have

usually been accustomed to think, and, above all, that it may mean

much in furnishing incentive for the maintaining and raising of

standards in medical education. In recent years there has come a very

decided improvement in medical education in the United States. It is

not hard to understand that the foreigner lifts his eyebrows in

surprise when he is told that most of our medical schools a generation

ago required but two terms of four months each, and that there was

then just beginning to be a demand for a little more complete course

and better facilities. There was a large number of medical schools,

turning out graduates every year with the degree {378} of doctor of

medicine, which was a license to practise in every state in the Union,

for there were no state or federal laws regulating the practice of

medicine. As for preliminary requirements the less said the better. If

a man could write his name and, indeed, he did not have to write it

very plainly, he found it easy to matriculate in a medical school and

to be graduated at the end of two scant terms of four months each. He

might come from the mines, or from the farm, or from before the mast,

or from the smithy, or the carpenter shop; he need know nothing of

chemistry, nor physics, nor of botany, nor of English and, above all,

of English grammar, and he was at once admitted to what was called a

professional school and graduated when he had served his time.

Practically no one was plucked. The desire of the faculty for numbers

of students forbade that in most cases. The two terms in medicine were

not even successive courses. The second-year student listened, as a

rule, to the same lectures that he might have heard the preceding

year.

We all know the reason now for this extremely low standard of medical

education. Proprietary medical schools made it their one business in

life to make just as much out of medical education as possible and the

historic septennate of professors, or sometimes the Dean, pocketed the

fees (I came near saying spoils) every year, and robbed medical

American education of {379} whatever possibilities it might have for

the real training of young men in the science and art and practice of

medicine. Perhaps the most interesting feature of this maintenance of

extremely low standards in medical education, however, is the fact

that in spite of it, men, or at least some of them, succeeded in

obtaining a good foundation in medicine and then by personal work

afterwards came to be excellent practitioners of medicine. Professor

Welch said not long since: "One can decry the system of those days,

the inadequate preliminary requirements, the short courses, the

dominance of the didactic lecture, the meagre appliances for

demonstrative and practical instruction, but the results were better

than the system. Our teachers were men of fine character devoted to

their duties; they inspired us with enthusiasm, interest in our

studies and hard work, and they imparted to us sound traditions of our

profession."

Nothing that I know is a better compliment to American enterprise and

power of overcoming the difficulties of the situation than the life

stories of some of the men who came from these completely inadequate

schools. If with the maimed training and incomplete education given a

generation ago American medicine not only succeeded in maintaining the

dignity of the profession to a noteworthy degree, but also developed

many men who made distinct contributions to world medicine, what will

we not do now that {380} our medical education is gradually being

lifted up out of the slough of despond in which it was and the

preliminary education for medical studies set at a standard where real

work of thoroughly scientific character can be looked for, from the

very beginning of the medical course?

Is it any wonder, then, that those of us who have the best interests

of American medicine at heart are watching with careful solicitude the

movement that is now reforming medical education in this country? The

one hope of medical education is, and always has been, organic

connection with a university. Real University Medical Schools, that is

medical schools as the genuine Post-Graduate Departments of

Universities with the fine training that they give, have opened our

eyes to what is needed in medical education in this country. Some of

the old-time medical schools here in the United States had been

connected by name with universities but this was more apparent than

real, and the medical faculty ruled absolutely in its own department

and throttled medical education and divided the income of the college

among themselves, devoting as little as possible to equipment, to

laboratories, to all that was needed for medical education.

Now has come the epoch of university medical schools in this country.

I came near saying America, but we must not forget that the

Spanish-American countries, having adopted their educational systems

from the mother Latin country, {381} have always maintained the

organic connection of the medical school with their universities, and

as a consequence a good preliminary education, the equivalent of three

years of college work with us, is required and has always been, and

then some four years in the medical school and, indeed, in most of the

countries five or six years and in one at least seven years of medical

study required. I have thought, however, that this story of medical

education in connection with universities and real university work

will be especially interesting to the graduates of this thorough

Western university, whose work in medicine is acknowledged as up to

some of the best standards of professional attainment and whose

organic connection with a great university assures not only the

continuance, but the future development of medical education here

along lines that shall place this among the serious progressive

medical schools of the world.

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