EMINENT PHYSICIANS.
The manuscript of our friend next introduces another class of society;
different indeed from that of the Nobility, but no less estimable, nor at
all less valuable. It may indeed admit of a question, whether, as far as
literary men are interested, the warmest, truest, and kindest friends are
not to be found amongst the professors of medicine. They are enlightened
themselves; they owe their success to talent, cultivated by labour,
and improved by experience. To be accomplished in their art, they must
necessarily be studious, addicted to science, and proficients in the
more elegant arts. They must consequently have a general sympathy with
all who are engaged in scholastic pursuits; and it is manifest that they
have, for there are very few instances in which, when called upon, their
advice is not, when the occasion justifies it, promptly and gratuitously
communicated, and, very often, assistance given of a more extensive and
substantial nature.
Among those who were personally known to our Sexagenary, and who
individually deserve the above tribute of esteem and commendation
bestowed on the profession, were the late Dr. H. Dr. W. P. Drs. M.
(father and son), Sir G. B. Dr. W. Dr. D. P. Dr. B. Dr. A. J. H. A. C.
Sir E. H. and a long list of names besides, who were, and perhaps are, an
ornament to the profession, and a common benefit to society.
The benevolence of Dr. H. was proverbial, long before his death; so was
that of Dr. W. P. and of many others. Sir G. B. was the warm and zealous
patron of Porson; and it probably was not his fault, that he did not
through life, continue his friendly countenance. Some of these worthies
deserve more particular and circumstantial notice, and they shall have
it. To begin with
THE P⸺S.
This ancient and truly amiable family were long resident in the county of
Fife. D. P. the brother of Dr. W. P. and father of Dr. D. was a Minister
of the Church of Scotland, and for more than fifty years presided over
the Church of Dysart, where he was a most exemplary parish priest, and
universally beloved, for he was indeed the father of his flock.
His original destination was the profession of medicine, and he had
visited foreign countries with such intention; but he afterwards went
into the church, and officiated among his parishioners both as pastor and
physician. He was a man of extraordinary abilities, possessed much wit
and humour, and was indeed remarkable for the variety of his talents. He
had a very fine person, and the most agreeable and amiable manners.
One of his brothers went into the army. Poor Major P.! he lost his life
at the age of fifty-two, at the unfortunate battle of Bunker’s Hill,
where he commanded the corps of marines. When he fell, every man of those
whom he commanded cried out, “We have lost our father!” He was carried
off the field on the shoulders of his son.
His next brother, Dr. W. P. was, as is well known, very high in the
profession of physic. Perhaps it may be asserted without fear of dispute
or contradiction, that a more excellent and benevolent character never
existed. On the melancholy death of his brother, the Major, he instantly
became the father of his children: _notus in fratrem animi paterni_.—He
was, in every respect, their protector, their guardian, and their friend.
The fate of the Major’s family was somewhat singular. Mrs. P. the mother
of Dr. David P. lived to a very advanced age, and survived five sons. Of
these, four reached manhood, and all obtained credit in their several
professions.
One of them was in the navy, and Lieutenant of the Aurora frigate,
which was lost in her passage to the East Indies, having on board many
distinguished personages, and among them the Judges, Mr. Vansittart, Mr.
Scroften, &c. Two more were in the army, both of whom certainly died in
consequence of fatigues and hardships suffered in America.
Of Dr. D. P. a great deal more is to be said.
D. P. was the eldest son of Major P. and was brought up in the High
School, at Edinburgh, whither his mother removed after the death of her
husband. He there got great credit; and Mr. French, the master under
whose instruction he went through the first four classes, ever retained
the sincerest attachment to him. When he left school, he removed to the
University of Glasgow, where he continued for a number of years. From
Glasgow he again revisited Edinburgh, where, for some time, he attended
lectures. From Edinburgh he proceeded to Cambridge, and was a member
of Benet College. On taking his degree, he went to London, and became
an inmate in the house of his uncle, Dr. W. P. After the death of his
protector, he progressively rose to the eminence and fortune which his
abilities deserved, and which, from a very early period, they promised.
Unfortunately, and at the very period when his practice was almost as
extensive as it well could be, he ruptured a blood vessel in the lungs,
and, for the benefit of a milder climate, proceeded to Lisbon. Here he
continued for two years, but, though he returned convalescent, he deemed
it expedient and necessary to circumscribe his practice, and, indeed,
almost altogether to limit it to the families of his older friends and
connections, which alone were sufficiently numerous. The reputation,
however, which he universally obtained for sagacity and sound judgment,
compelled him, in a manner, gradually to extend his circle, when, alas!
his career was lamentably shortened. He was constitutionally subject to
sore throat, and generally slept with leeches by his side, to be ready
to apply in case of any unfavourable symptoms. But, at a moment when his
friends and he himself thought his health effectually restored, and he
was again rising fast to the very head of his profession, he complained
of a soreness in his throat. He thought very slightly of it at first,
but, though attended by Dr. Baillie and Sir Everard Home, both of whom
were attached to him by the strongest possible ties of esteem and
friendship, in three days he was a corpse.
There seems to have been some misapprehension of his case; and perhaps
his own suggestion on the subject of his malady, written by himself with
a pencil, when he was unable to speak, might not receive the attention
it deserved. Be this as it may, nothing could exceed the grief of those
who attended him, at the loss of one who, for a long series of years, had
been their counsellor, their companion, and their friend.
What opinion his medical friends entertained of his professional skill,
may best be seen by the tribute of esteem and respect paid to his memory
by Dr. William Heberden, in one of the best Harveian orations ever
delivered at the College.
In one year the world was deprived of the skill and sagacity of Dr. John
Hunter and Dr. David Pitcairn, which Dr. Heberden thus emphatically
deplores:
“Quibus autem lamentis, quo luctu Te Huntere, et te Pitcairne
prosequemur? quos vigentes adhuc mors occupavit, atque ambos unus annus
nobis eripuit? Cognitione, prudentia, moderatione animi prope æquales
fuerunt. Fama quoque utrique par, sed alia alii. Alter militiæ, domi
alter clarus factus est.
“Quod si Hunterus in castris et infamibus Indiæ Occidentalis locis, magna
medendi diligentia celebritatem consecutus sit, non minus Pitcairnus
de patria bene meritus est, qui Valetudinario Sancti Bartolomæi plures
annos singulari laude præfuit: in quo pauperes pene innumerabiles cura
sublevavit, multosque discipulos præceptis ex re natis, ad medicinam
faciendam optimè instituit. Nam fuit in illo gravitas et autoritas quanta
magistrum decet, simul gratia et probitas quibus discentium animos mire
ad se allexit.
“Postea relictis publicis muneribus cum ad privata totum se converterat,
inter summi ordinis ægros occupatissimus vixit, donec adversa valetudo
ut sibi caveret, monuisset. Tum sine mora Ulyssiponem se subduxit, ubi
otium perinde ac salutem reciperet. Inde ut rediit, paucos modo curare
constituit, neque ut antea, mediis negotiorum fluctibus se implicari
sivit. Medicinam tamen adhuc exercebat, crescente etiam ætate vegetior
factus, cum hominem temperantem, summum medicum, tantus improviso morbus
oppresserit, ut præclusis inflammatione et tumore faucibus, vix diem
unum atque alterum superesset Lugeamus amici sortem humanam! lugeamus
socios amissos! vel potius eorum sic meminerimus ut quotiescumque de
clarissimis et beatissimis viris cogitemus, nosmetipsos ad virtutem
accendere, et ad omnem fortunam paratiores præstare videamur.”
There could not possibly be given a more accurate, or more faithful
portraiture of the man, than is exhibited in the above truly classical
extract: of his professional knowledge, skill, and sagacity, it cannot,
therefore, be necessary to add a syllable.
But be it permitted to one of those who knew him in the recesses of
private life, with no ordinary intimacy, for almost forty years, to add
yet a few sentences more. If he had not been precisely the character he
was, he would not have resembled those from whom he descended. He was of
the same family as the celebrated Dr. Archibald Pitcairn, the wit, the
scholar, and the poet. Perhaps he never wrote any thing with the view of
publication; but he very easily might, for his knowledge was extensive,
his discernment acute, his judgment profound. He employed every leisure
hour in reading, and was more particularly fond of voyages and travels.
He was familiarly acquainted with the modern languages, but these, with
numerous other endowments, entitled him merely to respect and esteem; but
all who knew him intimately, and enjoyed the benefit and happiness of his
friendship, loved him with no common affection. More particularly did he
merit the application of the motto applied to the picture of his uncle,
Dr. William Pitcairn; for a more generous, affectionate, kind-hearted
brother never existed: truly might he be said to be “notus in fratres
et sorores animi paterni.” He was occasionally warm in his temper; but
in domestic society, gentle, amiable, facetious, and very much enjoying
conversations in which wit, humour, and vivacity predominated.
In the most disinterested manner, and with the greatest promptitude,
he attended his more intimate friends, their children, and children’s
children.
Nor was he always contented with thus benevolently giving them his
valuable time; in matters of particular urgency and exigence, his purse
was equally at their service. Indeed, his generosity and kindness to
those whom he knew, or thought, to be in need of his assistance, rendered
his fortune far less considerable, than his very extensive and successful
practice, might be presumed to have accumulated.
Farewell, Pitcairn! May the turf lie lightly on your ashes. This tribute
is not paid without great mental emotion in the writer, arising from the
combined feelings of sorrow, affection, esteem and gratitude.
Και τουτο γουν σοι προσφερω πανυστατως
Ηδη προσεγγισασ’ αθταις ᾳδου πυλαις.
O Demea isthuc est sapere, non quod ante pedes modo est videre,
sed etiam illa quæ futura sunt, prospicere.