THE IRISH SCHOOL OF MEDICINE. [Footnote 6]

Robert Graves, M.D.

It has been always generally recognized that a very important portion of what is called English literature is really due to the native genius of the English-speaking writers of Irish birth and parentage, whose Celtic qualities of mind and heart have proved the sources of some of the most significant developments in the language of their adoption. What a large lacuna would be created in English literature by the removal from it of the work of such men as Dean Swift, Goldsmith, Burke, Sheridan, and Moore! It is not so generally known, however, that if the work of the distinguished Irish physicians and surgeons of the last century were to be blotted out of English medical literature there would be left quite as striking and as wide a gap. It is, indeed, to what is known as the Dublin School of Medicine, for medical schools have very properly been named usually after the cities rather than the countries in which they were situated, that we owe not a little of our modern progress in practical medicine, and especially the advance in the clinical teaching of the medical sciences. Now that the Gaelic movement is calling attention more than ever before to things Irish, it {168} Seems only proper that this feature of the national life should be given its due prominence and that the great members of the Irish School of Medicine should not be without honor in their own and other English-speaking countries.

There are three great names in the history of Irish medicine recognized by all the world as well deserving of enduring fame. These three names are Robert James Graves, William Stokes, and Dominic Corrigan. Graves' name is indelibly attached to the disease known as exophthalmic goitre, which he described and separated from other affections before anyone else had realized its individuality. William Stokes was, perhaps, the best authority on diseases of the heart and lungs in his time. His name will be preserved in the designation of the peculiar form of breathing which occurs in certain comatose conditions and has received the name Cheyne-Stokes respiration, in honor of the men who first called attention to it. Corrigan was in his time one of the greatest authorities on the heart, and especially on the pulse. His name is preserved in the term Corrigan pulse, which is applied to a peculiar condition that occurs very characteristically in disease of the aortic valves of the heart.

The lives of these men deserve to be better known, for they can scarcely fail to be an inspiration to others to do work of a high order in medicine--work that will represent not alone present success and emolument but will stand for medical progress for all time.

Dr. Robert Graves was the youngest son of the Rev. Richard Graves, D.D., Senior Fellow of Trinity College and Regius Professor of Divinity in the University of Dublin, and of Elizabeth, daughter of James Drought, also a fellow of Trinity College, whose family had been long settled in King's County. His father, as a tribute to his distinguished learning, was later promoted to the deanery of Armagh. There {169} were two other sons in the family, Richard and Hercules. All three of the boys passed through Trinity College with high honors and, in fact, established a record there that has since been unequalled, for at the degree examinations of three successive years the gold medal in classics and in science, then the highest distinctions attainable by students of Trinity, was conferred upon one of the brothers.

Dr. Graves received his degree of Bachelor of Medicine at the University of Dublin in 1818. After this he studied for some time in London, and then spent three years on the continent, at Berlin, Göttingen, Vienna and Copenhagen, as well as in Paris and certain Italian schools, finally studying also for some months in Edinburgh before his return to Dublin. As Dr. Stokes very well says: "In this large and truly liberal education, which embraced the training of the school, the university and the world, we can discover in part the foundations of his subsequent eminence. He did not content himself, as is so commonly the case, with commending--to use his own words--'the life of a practitioner without practice,' but he made himself intimate with the recent discoveries and modes of thinking in every great school of medicine, whether abroad or at home, and formed friendships with the leading physiologists and physicians of Europe, with many of whom he kept up a correspondence during his life."

An interesting incident in his travels serves to illustrate very well his facility for the acquisition of languages. Once while on a pedestrian journey in Austria he neglected to carry his passport, and was arrested as a spy. He was thrown into prison and for a time his condition seemed serious enough. He insisted that he was a British subject, but his assertions in this matter were immediately repudiated by the Austrian authorities in the little town, who insisted that no {170} Englishman could possibly speak German as well as he did. He was kept in prison for some ten days until authentic information could be obtained with regard to him, and, during this time, such was the state of the prison that he suffered many privations. Later in life this gave him a sympathy with the prisoners of Ireland and led to his making suggestions for the amelioration of their condition.

Like practically all the great medical men who have proved to be original workers, Graves' interest was not confined alone to medicine. During his sojourn in Italy he became acquainted with Turner, the celebrated English landscape painter, and was his companion in many journeys. Graves himself was possessed of no mean artistic powers, as his friend Stokes tells us, and his sketches are characterized by natural vigor and truth. His thorough appreciation of his companion, however, and the breadth of his sympathy and admiration for the great painter of nature can perhaps best be understood from some candid expressions of his with regard to their work in common: "I used to work away," he said, "for an hour or more and put down as well as I could every object in the scene before me, copying form and color as faithfully as was possible in the time. When our work was done and we compared drawings the difference was strange. I assure you there was not a single stroke in Turner's drawing that I could see like nature, not a line nor an object, and yet my work was worthless in comparison with his. The whole glory of the scene was there."

After wandering for some three years in Europe, Graves returned to Dublin and at once took a leading position in his profession as well as in society. He came back at a very fortunate period for him. In 1807, Dr. Cheyne, who had been educated in Edinburgh, made the first step toward the foundation of a new school of medical observation, by the {171} publication of the first volume of the Dublin Hospital Reports. Dr. Stokes says that the best proof of the value of these reports is that they appear to have given the tone to the subsequent labors of the Irish school which inherited their practical nature and truthfulness. Within a year after Graves' return he appeared as one of the founders of the new school of medicine in Park Street, and was also elected physician to the Meath Hospital, where he commenced to put into effect that system of clinical observation and instruction which has done so much to establish the lasting reputation of the Dublin School of Medicine.

For the next thirty years Graves' life is full of the teaching and the practice of medicine. He was noted for his tenderness toward the poor, but the rich soon came to appreciate his skill. Nothing ever made him neglect his poor patients. Meantime he left his mark on every subject that he handled in medicine. Fevers, nervous diseases of many kinds besides that named after him, tuberculosis, and other forms of pulmonary disease, were all illuminated by his practical genius in a way that has made them clear for succeeding generations in medicine.

With regard to fevers especially Graves' work will count for all time, because he set their treatment on so practical a basis. The trained nurse is quite a modern acquisition, yet seventy-five years ago Dr. Graves insisted that the services of a properly qualified nurse in severe, continued fever are inestimable. He emphasized the necessity for moral management in fever, and friends and relatives are seldom capable of discharging this office. "If they chance to discover from the physician's remarks or questions the weak points of the patient's case they generally contrive to let him know them in some way or another. If the patient is restless, for instance, the ill-judged anxiety of his friends {172} will most certainly keep him from sleeping. If he happens to take an opiate and they are aware of the nature of his medicine they will surely inform him of it in some way or another, though it may be only by a hint and his anxiety for sleep conjoined with their disturbing inquiries prevents its due operation."

We are apt to think that the modern aphorism, nursing (meaning trained care) is more important than medicine in the treatment of fever, is the result of observations in our own day. Dr. Graves, however, felt very deeply that the most important element in the treatment is the conservation of the patient's strength with the preservation of his morale, and this can be best accomplished when the patient is constantly under the care of an experienced nurse, noting every symptom and averting every possible source of worry and every form of exhaustion of energy.

With regard to fever treatment, however, Graves' name is immortal in medicine because of his insistence on the doctrine that fever patients must be fed. A century ago the presence of fever was supposed definitely to indicate that the patient should have no food. Any contribution to his nutrition was supposed to feed the fever rather than the patient. Graves pointed out, however, that at the end of a long-continued fever the most serious condition is the emaciation and weakness of the patient. He insisted that, appetite or no appetite, fever patients should be fed regularly. The result was at once noteworthy. Only the very hardy individuals had recovered before this; now even weaker patients had a good chance for life. The mortality from fever fell very strikingly, and in his time Dublin was overrun with typhoid and typhus fever and the saving of life produced by the new method of treatment was very considerable. Graves himself, when he saw how much he had accomplished by his {173} new doctrine, said that he wanted no better epitaph on his tombstone than the words, "He fed fevers."

Some of Dr. Graves' very particular hints with regard to treatment of fever show how careful he was in clinical observation. He deprecates the allowance of very much fluid for patients, since their thirst cannot be assuaged in that way, and the amount of liquid taken may be harmful by causing depression. He suggests, therefore, the use of acidulated water made by means of a little currant jelly or raspberry vinegar, given in small portions and at regular intervals. Much better than plain water he considers water to which some light bitter has been added, such as cascarilla. Small quantities of this will appease the morbid thirst of fever more effectually and for a much longer period than large draughts of water.

Even more interesting in these modern times, however, than Graves' attitude toward the treatment of fever is the position he took with regard to the habits of life that were best for the consumptive. At that time tuberculosis of the lungs was considered to be an inflammatory disease requiring the patient to be in the house most of the time, carefully protected from cold, and during any rise of temperature to be kept in warm rooms, without any special encouragement to take food. Graves and Stokes changed all that, and for the time completely revolutionized the principles of treatment for this serious ailment. Alas! their work, notwithstanding the good results shown in a certain number of cases, failed to attract widespread attention, and not until our own time did the principles that they laid down as the rational basis of successful therapeutics for tuberculosis come to be generally adopted.

Graves insisted that his patients when suffering from beginning tuberculosis should not be confined to the house, {174} but on the contrary should be out of doors most of the time. He emphasized what he called the taking of exercise, but in such a way that he agrees much more than might be thought with modern ideas on this subject. Now, it is insisted that tuberculous patients must not overtire themselves by taking exercise, though they must be in the open air a large part of the time. Graves explains the exercise that he would like to have them take by saying that they should spend four or five hours every day riding in a carriage, or, as he seems to prefer, in an open jaunting-car. And that they should spend at least as much time sitting outside in quiet.

Besides this the most important element in treatment he considers to be the encouragement of the appetite--as might be expected from the man who first fed fevers. His directions in this matter are very explicit, and he suggests various methods by which patients can be tempted to eat more and more food, and emphasizes the use of cereals and of milk and eggs as likely to be of most service in helping these patients to gain in weight and strength so as to be able to resist the further advance of the disease. This, it may be said in passing, is just the ideal treatment for the consumptive at the present time.

Others of Graves' opinions in regard to tuberculosis are in general surprisingly modern. He insists, for instance, that the main causes of the disease are overcrowding in towns, the long hours of hard work in factories, and abuse of alcohol. He thought that the population of country places, though fed no better as a rule than in the city, do not develop the disease so frequently because of their opportunity for fresh air. He placed very little confidence in the opinion that cold has anything to do with tuberculosis, though he disputed Laennec's dictum that bronchitis was never the beginning of tuberculosis. Graves advises his students not to try to {175} protect their throats by means of mufflers, for this will only render them more liable to cold. His advice is rather to harden themselves against cold. For this he suggests the use of water plentifully on the chest and throat, to be employed not too cold during the winter time, unless one is used to it. He also suggests the use of vinegar and alcohol as hardening fluids. They should be applied freely, and in his experience were effective.

Another interesting anticipation of modern methods was with regard to child feeding in summer diarrhoea. It is often thought that only in recent years, with the development of the science of bacteriology, the danger of continuing milk feeding when infants are already ill in the summer has come to be recognized. Milk is now known to be an excellent culture medium for various forms of bacteria, that is, it is a substance on which microbes grow plentifully, and it is often used in the laboratory to raise microbes. Dr. Graves, however, without any knowledge of modern bacteriology, but from clinical observation alone, pointed out that the only way to avoid summer diarrhoea is to stop all milk feeding.

"Let the infant," he says, "abstain from milk in any shape for twenty-four hours, sometimes for the space of two or even three days. It is incredible how small a portion of milk, even in the most diluted state, will keep up this disease, acting like a species of poison on the intestinal mucous surface."

Here, of course, was scientific intuition running far beyond medical knowledge, and pointing out a serious danger and the best means of avoiding it. There is scarcely a subject touched upon in Dr. Graves' clinical lectures, however, which is not illuminated in this way by precious sidelights, many of which unfortunately were obscured by medical {176} theories, and conclusions founded on them without due experience.

We have already said that his careful clinical observations led him to separate the type of disease which has since come to be known as Graves' disease from a number of other forms of nervous disturbances of the heart rhythm. There is at least one other class of disease usually considered to be much more modern, the type of affection known as Raynaud's disease, or a tendency to spontaneous stoppage of the circulation in the extremities, and also the other type now known as Weir Mitchell's disease, or erythromelalgia, in which there is suffused redness and pain in the extremities, examples of which Graves picked out from his hospital service and described in such a way that it is easy to recognize them even at this distance of time. His two volumes of clinical lectures on the practice of medicine are much more than an index of the medical teaching of his time. They contain anticipations of many a supposed after-discovery, besides an immense amount of very practical observations made at the bedside, and valuable hints for treatment, the result of his personal experience.

One of the best proofs of the greatness of the work accomplished by Graves is to be found in the tribute to his character, and what he achieved, by Professor Trousseau, who was at the time the acknowledged leader of the clinicians of Europe. He said:

"For many years I have spoken of Graves in my clinical lectures; I recommend the perusal of his work; I entreat those of my pupils who understand English to consider it as their breviary; I say and repeat that, of all the practical works published in our time, I am acquainted with none more useful, more intellectual; and I have always regretted that the clinical lectures of the great Dublin practitioner have not been translated into our language."

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A little later in the same lecture he said:

"And nevertheless, when he inculcated the necessity of giving nourishment in long-continued fevers, the Dublin physician, single-handed, assailed an opinion which appeared to be justified by the practice of all ages; for low diet was then regarded as an indispensable condition in the treatment of fevers. Had he rendered no other services than that of completely reversing the medical practice upon this point, Graves would, by that act alone, have acquired an indefeasible claim to our gratitude."

His tribute closes with the following very striking passage:

"I freely confess that I had some difficulty in accepting, notwithstanding the imposing authority of Graves, what he states of the influence of certain remedies, such as mercurials, essence of turpentine, spirituous preparations, nitrate of silver, etc.; but the Dublin professor speaks with so much conviction that I ventured to follow his precepts, and I must say that my early trials very soon encouraged me to adopt unreservedly what I at first accepted only with misgivings. There is not a day that I do not in my practice employ some of the modes of treatment which Graves excels in describing with the minuteness of the true practitioner, and not a day that I do not, from the bottom of my heart, thank the Dublin physician for the information he has given me. "Graves is, in my acceptation of the term, a perfect clinical teacher. An attentive observer, a profound philosopher, an ingenious artist, an able therapeutist, he commends to our admiration the art whose domain he enlarges, and the practice which he renders more useful and more fertile."

After this tribute from one who was himself one of the greatest medical teachers of his generation, it will be very interesting to find how much Graves anticipated nearly three-quarters of a century ago the principles of the bedside {178} teaching of medicine which have come to be acknowledged as the only sure basis of a genuine, practical medical education. For him the only possible way to learn medicine practically was to study it at the bedside, and he insisted over and over again that while the theoretical sciences allied to medicine were eminently fascinating, they were of little actual value in teaching the student how to solve the all-important problem of treating patients. In his address before the Dublin Medico-Chirurgical Society, an association of students in connection with the Dublin hospitals, he said in 1836:

"Many causes contribute to prevent students from attaining what after all should be the great object of their wishes--practical knowledge. The different sciences to which you are required to turn your attention successively possess so many fascinations that you may attach to some an undue degree of importance; but be assured of this, that however accurate be your knowledge of anatomy, healthy and morbid, however skilful you may be in the chemical theories and manipulations, however extensively you may have mastered the necessary properties of botany, however well you are acquainted with the nature and properties of drugs--be assured, I say, that you have acquired all this knowledge in vain unless you have diligently studied symptoms at the bedside of the patient and have observed the consequences and causes of disease in the dead room. In fact, in whatever other pursuits you may employ your afternoon hours, the morning should always be dedicated with earnestness to the hospital; from its wards all appearance of levity and inattention must be banished, for your neglect of the opportunities there presented for observation loads you with a serious amount of responsibility, I had almost said of guilt. It is no light thing to have life entrusted into your hands; we are all liable to err, we all commit mistakes; {179} the rules of our art are not invariably precise and certain; but they only are guilty who have not used every opportunity of acquiring practical knowledge; he is doubly guilty who, conscious of his neglect, embarks in practice and commences with the decision and boldness true experience alone can confer."

At a comparatively early age Graves realized more than most men that medicine is an art and not a science, and that each individual case presents problems that have to be studied out for themselves and for which no general principles of diagnosis, prognosis or therapeutics serve. He appreciated that there was no royal road to medical wisdom, in the sense of a scientific shortcut by means of which manifestations of disease and their indications for treatment might be grouped together and easily learned. Nor, may we add, has any such road been found since. Each physician must train himself by patient, repeated observation, and without this discipline and training there can be no real success. Accordingly he said to his students in Dublin:

"The chief object of medical science is to relieve suffering and to save life: you must, therefore, anxiously watch the action of remedies and, by constantly noting down the effects of treatment, learn to appreciate its merits and apply it when required. Nor is this an easy task; some indeed have vainly imagined that the method of treating or curing disease could be compressed within the limits of a few short directions made easily deducible from some general principles and easily applicable in any particular case; but it is not so. Gentlemen, we have as yet discovered no such general principles to serve as guides. This discovery presupposes a knowledge of the laws and relations of the vital powers far beyond what we now possess: no, we must toil onward by a much more {180} laborious and circuitous route and must commence by making ourselves thoroughly masters of a vast number of individual cases, assisted by the observations and the writings of practical men; we may afterward proceed to arrange our knowledge, to classify it so as to render it more available; analogy and induction are here our only or at least our most valuable guides, and they will seldom fail to instruct us how to act when properly consulted."

While recognizing all the difficulties of medical practice and the essential individualization of all its problems, Dr. Graves had little or no patience with the skeptic who thought that medicine could accomplish but little for the cure of many ailments. He said once before the Medico-Chirurgical Society:

"Many, indeed, aiming at acquiring the character of medical skeptics, think they exhibit proofs of superior discrimination when they, with apparent candor, make the confession that the more they see the less confidence they have in the resources of medicine. This confession should be interpreted not as a reproof of our art, but as a testimony of the want of skill of the would-be philosophical asserter of so false a proposition. No, God be praised, our predecessors have not toiled in vain; the anxious experience of ages has not been recorded to no purpose; our art is in truth boundless in resources and, when applied with ability, most successful. There are, indeed, some acute and many chronic diseases which baffle our powers of diagnosis, and defy our modes of treatment; such appear to be, however, not numerous when compared with the great mass of cases capable of cure or alleviation. The medical skeptic, however acute his powers of reasoning may be, and however he may labor to render plain subjects obscure and direct facts ambiguous, can never rob the good practitioner of the {181} pure, the inward joy he feels when conscious that he has snatched a patient from the jaws of death."

Knowing that such were his ideas with regard to the practice of medicine, it is all the more interesting to review the system of teaching that Graves considered most likely to produce genuine practitioners of medicine. Those who have been mainly concerned with the reform of medical education here in America in recent years can scarcely fail to be struck with the appropriateness of Graves' ideas on this subject nearly a century ago. When a very young man he did not hesitate to express his deprecation of the conventional and artificial methods of medical instruction in his own time, and he anticipated what is best in the methods that have gradually come into vogue at the end of the nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth centuries. His views will always remain a suggestive storehouse of thought for those who have the higher medical education at heart.

In his introductory lecture at the opening of the Medical course at the Meath Hospital in Dublin in 1821, he declared very definitely what he considered to be the principal aim of the medical student:

"Students should aim not at seeing many diseases every day; no, their object should be constantly to study a few cases with diligence and attention; they should anxiously cultivate the habit of making accurate observations. This cannot be done at once; this habit can be only gradually acquired. It is never the result of ability alone; it never fails to reward the labors of patient industry. You should also endeavor to render your observations not only accurate but complete. You should follow when it is possible every case from its commencement to its termination; for the latter often affords the best explanation of previous symptoms and the best commentary on the treatment."

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Graves was inculcating in principle what Corrigan and himself and Stokes were to exemplify so thoroughly in practice in the next few years. Before the end of the decade in which this address was delivered at the Meath Hospital, Corrigan at the little Jervis Street Hospital, where there were only beds for six medical patients altogether, was to make his great discoveries with regard to aortic disease, and to lay the sound basis of the diagnosis of affections of the heart for all time. There are many passages in this address of Graves that might well serve for warnings to the present day and generation as regards methods of medical education which do not include sufficient practical teaching. He said, for instance:

"The chief objection to our present mode of teaching is that, however well inclined the student may be, he is never obliged to exercise his own judgment in distinguishing diseases and has no opportunity of trying his skill in their cure, and consequently at the end of his studies he is perhaps well grounded in the accessory sciences--is a perfect medical logician--able to arrange the names of diseases in their classes, orders and different subdivisions; he may be master of the most difficult theories of modern physiologists; he may have heard, seen and, if a member of the medical society, he may also have talked a great deal; but at the end of all this preparation what is he when he becomes a full doctor?--a practitioner who has never practised!"

These words have quite as suggestive applications to most phases of our modern education as they had to that of Graves' time. There are other passages that bear so significant a meaning in this regard that one can scarcely refrain from quoting:

"Our present method of instruction is indeed very useful and nothing better can be devised for a beginner; but for {183} the more advanced student it is by no means sufficient, nor is it calculated to give him practical experience, without which all other acquirements are of no avail. I say it does not give him experience, because he has at no time been charged with the responsibility of investigating a case for himself, and by himself; because at no time has he been called on to make a diagnosis, unassisted by others; and above all because he has never been obliged to act upon that diagnosis and prescribe the method of treatment. If those who had been thus educated, and who had been made doctors upon so slender a foundation, were to confess the truth, we should be presented with a picture calculated to excite dismay if not a stronger feeling. How many doubts and distracting anxieties attend such a man at his first patient's bedside. If the disease be acute and life in imminent danger, and if he shrink under this sudden and unusual load of responsibility, he gains little credit for professional ability. If, on the contrary, inexperienced as he is, he assumes that decision of judgment, that energy of practice which experience alone can confer, is it not probable that the result will be still more disastrous?"

Graves' last days and the circumstances of his death and burial are given by Professor Stokes, his great personal friend, and himself one of the most distinguished physicians of his time. We quote the concluding paragraph of Professor Stokes' biographical notice:

"It was in the autumn of 1852, he being then in his fifty-seventh year, that the symptoms of the malady which was to prove fatal first showed themselves. In the following February he began to succumb to the disease. Although at times his sufferings were great, yet he had many intervals of freedom from pain. And he then showed all his old cheerfulness and energy. To the very last he continued to {184} take pleasure in hearing of any advance of knowledge that tended to ameliorate the condition of man, or to throw light on his relations to a future state. In this latter point of view, the discoveries of Layard greatly interested him, as illustrative of the Sacred History; and thus he was permitted to fill up the intervals of his sufferings, even to the last; for his mental faculties never failed or flagged,--a mercy for which he often expressed a fervent gratitude; and so he was providentially enabled to review the past, and to form a calm and deliberate judgment on the religious convictions of his earlier years. And once the truthfulness of these were ascertained, he adhered to them with that earnestness which characterized all his decisions. "It was after the attainment of this state of patient expectation that one who was dear to him expressed a prayerful wish for his recovery. 'Do not ask for that,' he replied; 'it might prove a fatal trial.' "His mind having become thus satisfied he made few remarks on these subjects, except in reply to the inquiries of others. Thus, when referred to the prophetic illustration of purifying and redeeming love, 'A fountain shall be opened for sin and for uncleanness,' 'No,' he said, 'not a fountain, but an ocean.' "On the day before his death he desired (a second time) to partake of the Holy Communion, with his family. When some explanations were commenced, he answered, 'I know all that; I do not regard this as a charm, but I wish to die under the banner of Christ.' Feeling himself sinking, he asked for prayer, and a petition was offered suitable to his condition; but he seemed to long for something more and, when questioned, replied, 'I want some prayer that I know, some of the prayers of my youth, some of my father's prayers.' The Litany was commenced, he immediately took up the {185} well-known words, and when the speaker's voice faltered he continued them alone, and distinctly, to the end of the strain, 'Whom thou hast redeemed with thy most precious blood.' "On the twentieth day of March, 1853, and without renewed suffering, he ceased to breathe. "His tomb is in the cemetery of Mount Jerome. It bears the following inscription dictated by himself:

"ROBERT JAMES GRAVES, Son of Richard Graves, Prof. of Divinity, Who, After a Protracted and Painful Disease, Died in the Love of God, and In the Faith of Jesus Christ."

William Stokes.

Very closely associated with the name of Robert Graves in all that made the Irish School of Medicine influential for good, about the beginning of the second quarter of the nineteenth century, is that of William Stokes. Stokes' work on Diseases of the Chest and, later in life, his treatise on Diseases of the Heart and Aorta stamp him as one of the great physicians of all time. His name is assured of immortality in medicine, because with that of the well-known Scotch physician, Cheyne, who came to Dublin late in the second decade of the nineteenth century, it is associated in the term most commonly used for a form of breathing, having special diagnostic and prognostic significance in certain serious diseases, and which is known as Cheyne-Stokes respiration. Even more interesting, however, than Stokes the physician, is, as we shall see, Stokes the man, and all that he stood for in his generation in Dublin, during a long life.

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William Stokes was of a family that had long been distinguished in Dublin for scholarship. While his ancestors came originally from England, five generations occupied more or less prominent positions in the public life of Ireland, and they had lived in Dublin for more than one hundred and fifty years before Stokes began to be prominent in Irish medicine. His father, Whitley Stokes, had been a scholar and Senior Fellow of Trinity College, and was prominent in the scientific, political, and literary circles of the Irish capital at the end of the eighteenth and the beginning of the nineteenth century. He had been a member of the United Irishmen, but fearing that the revolutionary principles that were being propagated would only bring about an ineffectual rebellion, he separated himself from them, though years after when the United Irishmen came under the ban of the English government his previous connection with them cost him suspension from the fellowship. Later on, however, Whitley Stokes became the Regius Professor of the Practice of Medicine at Trinity College, a chair which he held until succeeded in the early forties of the nineteenth century by his son, William, the subject of this sketch. Something of the character of the man can be judged from the fact that though he was a distinguished physician and interested in every branch of science, taking an active part in the foundation of Trinity College Botanical Gardens, and being one of the founders of the Zoological Garden in Phoenix Park, he was also the author of a prize essay in reply to Tom Paine's Age of Reason, which was then attracting so much attention.

Our William Stokes was the second son of Whitley Stokes, and was born in Dublin in 1804. Like many another distinguished investigator in science, he was not looked upon as a bright student as a boy, and indeed could be prevailed upon to interest himself only very slightly in what is usually {187} considered to be the absolutely necessary fundamental work in education. He had a great love for poetry and romance, which indeed he carried with him all his life. The Scottish Border Ballads were his favorite reading, and he spent days in committing them to memory. Almost needless to say his apparent indolence and disinclination to any steady, methodical system of study were, as his son, the late Sir William Stokes, records in his biography of his father, sources of real concern to his parents, and caused his mother specially much anxious thought. One day while reading his favorite author, Sir Walter Scott, he fell asleep--to be awakened shortly after by some warm drops falling on his face. He started up to find his mother bending over him. It was her tears that had awakened him. Stung with remorse at having been the cause of so much sorrow to the mother whom he loved very dearly, his nature underwent an immediate and salutary change, and the dreamy, indolent boy became thereafter the ardent and enthusiastic student.

Stokes amply made up for any neglect of study there might have been in his boyhood days as soon as he entered upon the medical course to which he felt called. Here he came to be looked upon as one of the most ardent and painstaking of students.

His preliminary medical studies were begun in Dublin at the Meath Hospital. Chemistry he learned in the laboratory of Trinity College and anatomy in the Royal College of Surgeons. After spending several years thus he went to Glasgow, where for two years more he was occupied mainly at chemistry in the laboratory of Professor Thompson. Like most of the young Irishmen of his time, he next proceeded to Edinburgh in order to complete his education in clinical medicine and, if possible, obtain his medical degree from that famous institution. It was at Edinburgh, under the magnetic {188} influence of that great teacher, Allison, that Stokes began to develop the rare powers of original observation which at an early age placed him in the front rank of the best medical men of the time.

It is interesting to note that before he left Edinburgh he published his first medical work, a treatise on the use of the stethoscope, which was undoubtedly the means of bringing that instrument--and with it Laennec's fruitful system of physical diagnosis by means of auscultation--to the general notice of the English-speaking medical profession. Even after all that has been written on the subject, it remains a very valuable little book. It was dedicated to the famous Cullen, who had already published a series of cases which had been illustrated by the use of the stethoscope, and to whom Stokes probably owed the idea of the need for a formal little treatise on the subject. It is typical of the slow adoption of medical novelties even when they are of great importance that more than ten years afterward, old-time, though distinguished, physicians not infrequently made fun of Stokes for spending so much time in the study of cases with the stethoscope, since in their opinion it was little more than a toy. This was done in no bitter, carping spirit, but with the most friendly complacency and condescension. Stokes, however, intensely practical in his way, realized the value of the instrument, and as the result of his teaching it soon began to be more generally used; thus introducing into English-speaking medical circles that exact knowledge of diseases of the chest which can only be obtained by means of this little instrument and the methods of auscultation which are associated with it.

Immediately after graduation, Stokes settled down in his native city to practise. In 1826, when Stokes was only twenty-two, Dublin was visited by one of those epidemics of typhus fever which were so common in the first half of the {189} nineteenth century, and which consisted evidently, at least to a great degree, of what we now call typhoid fever, but intermixed with many cases of the real, dread typhus. The mortality in such epidemics, as we have reason to know from statistics here in New York, was always over twenty-five per cent, and often reached far above fifty per cent. The manner of contagion was unknown, only it was very well understood that those much in contact with the patients were likely to contract the disease. Among the poorer classes in Dublin the fever raged with virulence, but young Stokes devoted himself to the care of patients to an extent that severely taxed his physical powers of endurance. He devoted himself especially to the poorer classes. He did not contract the fever during the height of the epidemic in 1826, but he did in 1827, when it recurred, but fortunately he suffered in the mild form.

An epidemic of another disease, Asiatic cholera, the danger from which has been almost entirely removed by the progress of scientific medicine in modern times, followed not long after. It showed itself in Dublin, when Stokes was about twenty-five. He it was who recognized the first case of the disease, and sounded the note of warning that probably saved many lives by calling attention to the danger that was just beginning. Once more he devoted himself to the care of the patients, and, as with regard to typhus fever, wrote an account of his experiences, which is in itself a valuable medical document that shows the powers of observation of the young medical man.

Stokes spent himself in labor for the poor, and his deep interest in their welfare led him to sacrifice much time in order to organize medical charities for his unfortunate countrymen during the sad years of that awful fifth decade of the nineteenth century. His interest in this matter of {190} organization led him also to realize how much might be accomplished by public hygiene and efficient government sanitation. He recognized too how much would be accomplished along these lines if men were given proper training to make them specialists in these subjects. To Stokes then, almost more than to any other man, is due the development of public sanitation as a special science, and its organization for the proper safeguarding of public hygiene.

His efforts, especially with regard to the physicians of Ireland, who so nobly sacrificed, not unfrequently at the expense of other practice, their time, health, and often even their lives, in order to aid their stricken countrymen, form one of the best monuments to his tender sympathy and his goodness of heart as a man. His testimony before the Parliamentary Committee was at this time of the utmost value in securing due recognition of their services.

In 1843, when the Medical Charities Bill was brought forward, Stokes and Cusack united in the effort to procure for these devoted men an amelioration of the conditions under which they labored. They repaired to London to give evidence on the subject before the House of Commons. Both these friends had had to deplore the loss of many of their dearest and most promising pupils, who, after a short experience of country practice, had fallen victims to fever contracted in the discharge of their duties. They pleaded that in all justice the remuneration for attendance on fever hospitals and dispensaries should be fixed at a liberal scale, and that some provision ought to be made for the widows and children of gentlemen who had lost their lives in the public service. They collected statistics which proved that during a period of twenty-five years the mortality of the medical practitioners of Ireland was twenty-four per cent., while in most instances the cause of death was typhus fever. They {191} showed that, on the authority of Inspector-General Marshall, the comparative mortality of combatant officers in the army was less than half that, amounting to only ten and a quarter per cent. It was little to be wondered at that William Stokes should say, in answer to the chairman's question regarding the existence of any special risk to the medical officer in Ireland: "Such a number of my pupils have been cut off by typhus fever as to make me feel very uneasy when any of them take a dispensary office in Ireland. I look upon it almost as going into battle." Again he observes: "The medical practitioners in Ireland are placed in a position very different from and far more serious than that of their brethren in Great Britain. . . . . The Irish physician is often exposed to contagion in its most concentrated force when himself under the influence of cold, wet, fatigue, and hunger, as he labors among the poor, passing from hovel to hovel in wild and thinly-populated but extensive districts. He has often to ride for many hours in the worst weather, and at night, enduring great fatigue, while himself a prey to mental as well as physical suffering; for if we add to such labor the injurious influence which the knowledge of danger must have on the system of a man feeling that he is struck down by the disease under which he has seen so many sink, and tortured by the thought of leaving a young family unprovided for, we can understand how it happens that the country is so often deprived by death of so many of its best educated and most devoted servants."

Perhaps the most interesting phases of Stokes' purely medical work during the first part of his career is his treatment of the subject of consumption. When not quite thirty-three he wrote a treatise on the diagnosis and treatment of diseases of the chest. His familiarity with the work of Graves and of Auenbrugger gave him command of all the {192} modern methods of physical diagnosis, so that he was able to study tuberculosis to the best possible advantage and with the least possible chance of too favorable judgment with regard to its cure. Notwithstanding the accuracy of his knowledge, however, he insisted that the disease was curable, and that the important point with regard to it was the recognition of it as early as possible, in order that the patient might be given the best chance for life.

At that time most physicians considered tuberculosis to be an hereditary disease, without any idea of its being possibly contagious. Acceptance of heredity seemed to set the stamp of inevitable fatality on the heads of victims of the disease. To announce the curability of tuberculosis then was to run counter to all the medical traditions of the time, and Stokes in doing so must have had in support of his teaching many observations of patients who had been cured notwithstanding the fact that they were assured sufferers from this supposedly fatal disease. We know that Stokes was surely correct in his judgment in this matter, and realize too that his method of treatment, which included abundant feeding and long hours each day in the outdoor air, comprised the best elements of the modern treatment of tuberculosis.

Perhaps one of the most striking anticipations of what is apt to be considered quite modern in medicine is Dr. Stokes' descriptions of the methods by which he considers certain forms of heart weakness, especially that incident to incipient fatty disease, should be treated. His directions are almost exactly those which have made the names of the Schott Brothers known throughout the world during the last twenty-five years. To have anticipated our modern views with regard to tuberculosis, its curability, and the best methods of treatment shows how thoroughly Stokes had studied his cases of consumption. That the same man {193} should also have been able to work out the details of treatment for heart weakness is a triumph that indicates better than anything else perhaps the genius of the physician not only in the observation of disease, but above all in that more important part of medicine--the proper application of therapeutic principles.

Stokes observes, "In the present state of our knowledge the adoption of the following principles in the management of a case of incipient fatty disease seems justifiable:

"We must train the patient gradually but steadily to the giving up of all luxurious habits. He must adopt early hours, and pursue a system of graduated muscular exercises; and it will often happen that, after perseverance in this system, the patient will be enabled to take an amount of exercise with pleasure and advantage which at first was totally impossible owing to the difficulty of breathing which followed exertion. The treatment by muscular exercise is obviously more proper in younger persons than in those advanced in life. The symptoms of debility of the heart are often removable by a regulated course of gymnastics or by pedestrian exercise, even in mountainous countries, such as Switzerland, or the Highlands of Scotland or of Ireland. We may often observe in such persons the occurrence of what is commonly known as 'getting the second wind;' that is to say, during the first period of the day the patient suffers from dyspnoea and palpitation to an extreme degree, but by persevering, without overexertion, or after a short rest, he can finish his day's work and even ascend high mountains with facility. In those advanced in life, however, as has been remarked, the frequent complications with atheromatous disease of the aorta and affections of the liver and lungs must make us more cautious in recommending the course now specified."

{194}

If any proof of Stokes' ability as an observer and a teacher were needed it would be readily found in his original description of the form of respiratory disturbance since known as Cheyne-Stokes respiration. The passage is besides a model of succinct completeness of description that would well deserve to be in the commonplace book of physicians who write, for so many of them need to imitate his conciseness and clarity. It is to be found in his book Diseases of the Heart and the Aorta, p 336.

"A form of respiratory distress, peculiar to this affection (fatty degeneration of the heart), consisting of a period of apparently perfect apnoea, succeeded by feeble and short inspirations, which gradually increase in strength and depth until the respiratory act is carried to the highest pitch of which it seems capable, when the respirations, pursuing a descendant scale, regularly diminished until the commencement of another apnoeal period. During the height of the paroxysm the vesicular murmur becomes intensely puerile."

It is curiously interesting to find that a favorite subject of discussion in the Irish medical societies of nearly fifty years ago was a topic which is still frequently on the tapis in medical society meetings. In one of his public addresses Dr. Stokes bewailed the fact that medicine did not have its proper place in the estimation of the people and was not able to assert its dignity as a profession in its proper sphere. He discussed also the remedies for this state of affairs, and as he was a man of eminently broad views, of very large experience, and of sane, conservative judgment, they are worth while pondering at the beginning of the twentieth century, for the practical problems of professional life which he sets forth are still with us. It is for this reason that it has seemed worth while to give a rather lengthy quotation that would adequately represent his conclusions in the matter.

{195}

"Is it by public agitation and remonstrances addressed to deaf or unwilling ears that these medical abuses are to be corrected? Is it by the demand for class legislation? or is it, by the efforts of one and all, to place medicine in the hierarchy of the sciences--in the vanguard of human progress; eliminating every influence that can lower it, every day more and more developing the professional principle, while we foster all things that relate to its moral, literary, and scientific character? When this becomes our rule of action, then begins the real reform of all those things at which we fret and chafe. Then will medicine have its due weight in the councils of the country. There is no royal road to this consummation. On the one hand, the liberal education of the public must advance, and the introduction of the physical sciences in the arts courses of the universities must give the death-blow to empiricism; and, on the other, education of ourselves must extend its foundations, and we should trust far less to the special than to the general training of the mind. When medicine is in a position to command respect, be sure that its reward will be proportionally increased and its status elevated. In the history of the human race, three objects of man's solicitude may be indicated: first, his future state; next, his worldly interests; and lastly, his health. And so the professions which deal with these considerations have been relatively placed: first, that of divinity; next, that of law or government; and, as man loves gold more than life, the last is medicine. But, with the progress of society, a juster balance will obtain, conditionally that we work in the right direction, and make ourselves worthy to take a share in its government, not by coercive curricula of education; not by overloaded examinations in special knowledge, which are, in comparison to a large mental training, almost valueless; but by seeing to the moral and religious {196} cultivation, and the general intellectual advancement of the student."

From this, it is to be feared that Dr. Stokes would have very little sympathy with the specializing trend of modern medical education. Certain it is that not thus were the medical giants of the old days developed; but the times have changed; perhaps we should change with them, only the danger of the change must be ever kept in mind so as to avert, if possible, its most serious consequences at the first warning.

While Stokes felt deeply for the Irish people, and the sad conditions under which they were laboring, unfortunately, like many another educated Irishman, he had very little active sympathy in any of the movements for their relief. He was a man in early middle life when O'Connell's agitation began, but he had no part in the movement. Later on, when his personal friend, Isaac Butt, was engaged in his great political work for Ireland, Stokes tried to dissuade him from it, feeling that the arousing of the people to a realization of their rights only led to a tighter riveting of their chains. Better judgment has prevailed and now practically all classes are united in the Gaelic movement, making it harder to understand Stokes' position, yet his is a case for sympathy rather than blame. His heart was touched, but his head could not see a happy issue for his countrymen, and so he preferred to have them endure in patience rather than suffer further ills through coercive measures.

Dr. Stokes realized, however, all the iniquity of the union of the Irish and English parliaments, and a favorite story of his was told with regard to one of the members of the Irish Parliament who sold themselves to England. This member, finding that he was unnoticed in the distribution of rewards after the passage of the Union, though eighteen of his {197} fellow-members were raised to the peerage, waited on the Secretary of State and in an injured tone complained of having been neglected. The Secretary answered in the blandest manner: "The government, sir, is most anxious to do all it can to assist those who supported it. What is the object of your ambition?"

"Make me aqual to the rest of the blackguards," was the prompt reply of this conscientious legislator.

Stokes used to add: "History does not tell if his quite reasonable request was granted."

In the midst of Stokes' sympathy for his compatriots there was always a counter-current of reactionary feeling, as if he feared the Celtic enthusiasm for reform would overstep the mark and bring evils in its train, even worse than the good it might entail. The following letter to a friend, as representing one phase of this feeling on the part of a true-hearted Irishman, seems worth reproducing, because it suggests thoughts with regard to the present movement which warn of possible dangers from the commercial spirit that must be avoided at all hazards, if Irishmen are to retain the influence their idealism has ever given them in whatever part of the world they might be:

"October 27, 1836.--You will be sorry to hear that I have been for two days down to Connemara, to see poor Macnamara. He is dying. Oh, what a tragedy it will be! We expect him up to town this week. I never saw the glorious Lough Corrib look so beautiful. I was entertained by Miss Blake; she is a perfect specimen of the old Irish aristocracy. Tall, distinguished, elegantly formed, with dark hair and exquisitely fair complexion; she looked, as she stood in her tapestried hall, a lady of romance; her youth, her mourning dress, her classic head, and the symbols of her loved religion all combined to form a picture not easily to be forgotten. {198} The castle, grey and worn, stands on a green platform over the clear and rapid river through which the whole waters of Lough Mask and Lough Corrib rush to the sea. It reverses Byron's simile, 'All green and wildly fresh without,' etc., etc. You will say I am raving; but in truth a little time will level these ancient castles, and their highborn and honorable inhabitants and the feelings which their communion creates, and then 'utility' will have its reign, and 'common sense,' laughing at the past and the beautiful, will build factories with the remains of history, make money, and die."

Dr. Stokes' interest in Irish historical matters can be best judged from the fact that toward the close of his life, when he was extremely busy with his practice and medical work of all kinds, he took the time to write a life of his friend, George Petrie, the distinguished Irish antiquary. It will be recalled by those who are interested in Irish antiquities that Petrie's work eminently deserved this tribute, and that Stokes' life is worthy of Petrie's merit. Dr. Stokes' daughter Margaret, as the result of association with Petrie and her father's interest in Irish antiquities, became a deep student of the same subject and wrote a little volume, Early Christian Art in Ireland, which has come to be the standard handbook on this subject for those who want sure and definite information, yet are not specializing in antiquities.

On March 17, 1874, as a recognition of his interest in Irish antiquities, Stokes was nominated to the presidency of the Royal Irish Academy. "It was a new departure for the members of that society," says Stokes' biographer, "which is mainly representative of literature and abstract science, to choose a physician as their head, but it was felt that the time had now come when medicine had obtained, owing to the labors of Stokes and others, such a position in {199} the estimation of literary and scientific men that the election of the Regius Professor of that art in Trinity College (to the presidency of the Royal Irish Academy) would be welcomed by the majority." Certainly no member of the medical profession could have been found more deserving of the tribute because of all that he had done for Irish medicine, and besides his broad, sympathetic, liberal interest in Irish antiquities eminently fitted him for this honorable position.

When Stokes' death was announced at the beginning of January, 1878, the medical world thought that it had lost one of its most representative men. For some years before his death many honors had come, all unsought, to this worthy protagonist of Irish medicine. He had been made a member of the Prussian order of Merit, and an honorary Fellow of many scientific societies on the Continent. He had received the rare distinction of the degree of LL.D. from Cambridge, and had been similarly honored by many other universities. Perhaps the honor that Stokes himself would have appreciated most came after his death, when the country people who had learned to know and love him asked to be allowed to carry his remains from Carrig Breac to the church of St. Fintan--the "grassy churchyard grave," where he was to be laid beside his beloved wife and children. They laid him in the same grave and beneath the same stone with her who was the beloved companion of his life, and on whose tomb he had engraved these words:

Surely a union like theirs was not destined to be but passing.

{200}

Stokes' beautiful domestic affection was but another index of one of the most beautifully rounded types of man that ever lived. The affective side of his being, profoundly tender, deeply sympathetic, thoughtful always of others first, and humanely devoted to the poor and the helpless above all others, was typical of the best side of the Irish character. For this even more than for all he did for practical medicine (yet the absence of his work would make a large lacuna in nineteenth century medical progress) the race may well be proud of him. His example still lives to animate his professional brethren, one of whom (Sir John Moore) said of him: "Those who have seen Dr. Stokes at the bedside of the sick know how gentle, how refined, how kindly was his bearing toward the patient. Amid all the ardor of clinical observation and research he never for one moment forgot the sufferer before him--no thoughtless word from his lips, no rough or unkind action ever ruffled the calm confidence reposed in him by those who sought his skill and care. In many eloquent lectures delivered in the Meath Hospital he inculcated those Christian lessons of charity and thoughtfulness; and so by precept and example he strove to teach the duties of a true and God-fearing physician."

Dominic Corrigan.

The third of the great trio of the founders of the Irish School of Medicine is Sir Dominic John Corrigan, whose name will be forever associated with the form of pulse which occurs in aortic heart disease. It was his supreme merit to have been the first to describe in all its details this type of heart disease, and the distinguished French clinician, Trousseau, declared that aortic regurgitation should be called Corrigan's Disease. At this time Trousseau was deservedly {201} looked up to as the leading spirit among the clinicians of Europe. He was never tired of commending to his students Corrigan's acute clinical observations, and insisted that it was work of this kind which assured real progress in medicine. Trousseau's suggestion as to nomenclature was not adopted in its entirety, but Corrigan's pulse is well-known all over the medical world, and there is no doubt now that it will continue for many generations to confer deserved honor on the man who first appreciated its full significance though he was not the first to recognize it--and indeed it could scarcely escape notice--but who showed just what diagnostic conclusions might be reached from it.

Corrigan's career should prove a stimulating example to the young physician just taking up that real post-graduate work in medicine which comes after he has received his degree, finished, perhaps, his hospital work, and is beginning his practice. Corrigan was only twenty-seven when he began the series of observations on which was founded his paper on aortic heart disease, which was published when he was about thirty. In this matter of youthful accomplishment, Corrigan is not alone among his distinguished Irish contemporaries. Stokes, it will be remembered, wrote his little book on the stethoscope when he was only twenty-one and had made some very important observations on disease of the chest before he had reached the age of thirty. Graves had showed very clearly the sound metal of his intelligence before he was twenty-five, and had described the cases of the nervous disease which have since come to be called after his name, Graves' disease, before his fourth decade had run more than a year or two. In fact these young men accomplished so much by their careful observation and dependence on their own resources that the medical writer of the modern times is tempted to wonder if perhaps that most precious {202} quality of the human mind in the young adult, its originality, is not obscured by the amount of information that it is expected to absorb before it is tempted to do any thinking for itself.

There is another remarkable feature of Corrigan's achievement, in the recognition and description of this form of heart disease. At the time he was the physician to a hospital which had only room for six medical patients. This appointment to the little Jervis Street Hospital in Dublin had been secured only after competition, and Corrigan had to pay for the privilege of being the attending physician. This he could ill afford to do at the time, and so he resolved, as he told a friend, to make all his opportunities for the study of patients count to the greatest possible extent. He did not visit his hospital merely to see patients, but to study the cases carefully. His success is only another example of the necessity for seeing much, and not many things, if there is to be any real progress. In our day, physicians scarcely consider that they have any hospital experience unless they are the attending physicians to several hospitals, seeing at least one hundred patients a week. The result is that patients do not receive the skilled care they should, and that advance in medicine suffers because of the wasted opportunities for clinical observations while a busy attending physician rushes through a ward and the resident physician has only time for the routine work that enables him to keep just sufficiently in touch with the progress of his cases to satisfy the hurrying chief.

Before publishing his classic paper on the Permanent Patency of the Aortic Valves, on which his reputation as a wonderful clinical observer in medicine rests, Corrigan had called attention to some mistakes in the classification of heart murmurs as made by Laennec in Paris. At this time Laennec was considered to be the best authority in Europe {203} on diseases within the thorax. As regards diseases of the lungs, he well deserved the reputation. To him the medical world owes all that it knows about diseases of the chest, as far as these can be detected by means of the ear. His young contemporary in Ireland, however, was able to show that in diseases of the heart some of the ideas acquired in long years of study of the lungs were leading Laennec into false conclusions as regards the significance of murmurs of the heart. Even genius does not succeed in doing more than one thing well, and especially in the matter of taking a second step into the unknown. While the distinguished Frenchman might have been thought just the one to complete the work he began so well on the heart, and while his experience with the lungs might have been expected to help him in the recognition of the significance of heart murmur, this did not prove to be the case. The privilege of solving the mystery of heart diseases was to be left for his Irish contemporaries, one of the most successful of whom in this matter was Corrigan.

Anyone who wishes to see how little subsequent study has added to our knowledge of aortic disease should read Corrigan's original paper on this subject. He describes all the varying forms of affections of the aortic valve, with their various clinical manifestations. His paper is illustrated by a set of plates that would still be valuable for demonstrative purposes, and which serve to show how painstaking were his pathological studies. He illustrated experimentally his ideas of how the murmurs and thrills occur by means of an apparatus consisting of rubber tubes through which water might be allowed to flow under pressure, and varying calibre. Some of his conclusions, derived from experimental observations, will not stand the test of our modern knowledge, but they are very suggestive. Perhaps the best idea of the clinical {204} value of Corrigan's observations can be given by a quotation from his original paper, in which he discusses the interesting and difficult question of the relationship between aneurism of the aorta and inadequacy of the aortic valve. He said:

"The two diseases, aneurism of the aorta and inadequacy of the valves, may, however, be combined. Aneurism of the ascending aorta may, by extending to the mouth of this vessel, dilate it so that the valves are unable to meet, and there is then a combination of the two diseases; there is aneurism and there is permanent patency of the aortic opening. The first cases that came under my observations presenting the signs of inadequacy of the aortic valves were cases in which the valves were rendered useless in this way, namely, by the mouth of the aorta sharing in the aneurismal dilatation. These cases led me into an error; for, meeting the signs of permanent patency of the aortic orifice in conjunction with aneurism, I erroneously attributed to the aneurism the signs which arose from the permanent patency. Aneurism of the aorta of itself does not produce the signs arising from permanent patency of the mouth of the aorta. It can only produce them in the way already described, by involving in the dilatation the mouth of the aorta; and hence, when in conjunction with an aneurismal tumor of the arteria innominata or aorta, there are found visible pulsation, bruit de soufflet, and frémissement in the ascending aorta, and the trunks arising from it, we may be certain that, in addition to the aneurism, there is a defect in the aortic valves, or that the aneurism has extended downward, involving the mouth of the aorta. On the other hand, if these signs be absent, the valves are sound and the mouth of the aorta is not included in the disease. The propriety of performing Mr. Wardrop's or indeed the common operation for aneurism about the neck might depend on the information {205} thus obtained of the state of the aortic valves. To perform either in a case where the aneurismal dilatation was so extensive as to involve the mouth of the aorta, or where the aortic valves were diseased, would only bring the surgical treatment of the disease into unmerited discredit."

Another very distinct contribution of Corrigan to the medicine of his time was his insistence on the distinction that exists between typhoid and typhus fever. This is one of the most interesting features of his little book on the Nature and Treatment of Fever. With our present knowledge, it seems hard to understand that these two fevers should have been so long confounded, but as a matter of fact it was not until the middle of the nineteenth century that the distinction between them was recognized even by the most acute observers. In this matter the French and Americans anticipated most of the rest of the world, though Corrigan's teaching in the matter had been correct for many years before others in the British Isles came to the true position.

It was his work among the poor particularly that enabled Corrigan to recognize the differences between these two diseases. He came to have one of the largest practices that any practitioner in Dublin, or for that matter in any city of the world, has ever enjoyed, if enjoyment it can be called. His office used to be crowded with patients who would occupy all his time if he allowed them to do so. In order to secure opportunities for his other work, for his lectures, for his hospital visitation, and for his pathological investigation, he had a back entrance to his house through which he could steal out--even though there were many patients waiting for him--when he felt that it was time for him to fill another engagement.

Late in life, after his return from Parliament when he took up his practice again, it was only a very short time {206} before the same state of affairs developed once more. It almost seemed as though every sick Irishman and Irish woman wanted to have the opinion of Dr. Corrigan. He had also a large consultant practice, though he was known for being a very different man from the ordinary type of the medical consultant. As one of his younger colleagues said, "he never wore the supreme air of a consultant." He was always simple and easy in his manner, was always congenial and ready to listen to what had developed and had been found in the case before consultation with him, and had none of that superciliousness that was supposed to characterize the true high-grade consultant physician in the British Isles a half a century ago.

Within a few years after his essay on aortic heart disease, Corrigan published a paper on chronic pneumonia or, as he called it, cirrhosis of the lungs. Corrigan's successful achievements in medicine depended mainly on the fact that he studied the pathological anatomy of fatal cases with the greatest care. He had detected that in certain cases of chronic pneumonia the process seemed to be quite different from tuberculosis. Observations made postmortem showed that his clinical observations were justified by the differences observed in the organ. As a result he formulated his opinions on the subject. He called particular attention to the fact that what he found corresponded very closely with the pathological process which had been observed by Laennec in the liver, and to which the French medical pathologist had given the name of cirrhosis. It would seem as though the pathology of the time was so crude that Corrigan must surely fall into serious errors in his account of what he saw. Twenty years later, Virchow was to revolutionize pathology by the publication of his "Cellular Pathology." Notwithstanding the progress made since his time, {207} however, Corrigan's description of the condition of the lungs that he noted and of the pathological process observed is so true that even to the present day this paper remains of distinct value in medicine and represents the beginning of correct ideas on the subject.

After Corrigan's death in 1881 the London Lancet said: "In the light of recent pathology Corrigan's speculations on cirrhosis of the lungs are more meritorious than ever and continue to be regarded as in the main sound. They anticipated by forty years much of the present pathology." Needless to say it is only a genius of a very high order that is thus capable of rising above the limitations of environment, and in spite of the defective knowledge of his times observing correctly and drawing proper conclusions, though all the usual accepted principles would seem to be sure to lead him from the truth. The principal lesions of chronic pneumonia, after having been the subject of much disputation, with conclusions now one way and now another in the intervening years, are at the present time recognized as being essentially due to the pathological processes Corrigan originally pointed out.

The man who thus made a permanent place for himself in the history of medicine was the son of a poor shopkeeper in one of the outlying districts of Dublin. His early education was obtained at Maynooth College, which had at that time a department for the training of youth for secular vocations, though it has since become an exclusively clerical institution. It is needless to say he acquired an excellent knowledge of the classics, of which he made abundant use later in life, and of which he was always very proud. The physician in attendance at Maynooth in his time took quite a liking to him, and it was the result of his suggestion that Corrigan took up medicine as his profession. For a time {208} he was under the tutelage of this Doctor O'Kelley, who seems to have been a very intelligent man, and a rather painstaking clinical observer. Most of his medical studies were made in Dublin and he attended the practice at Sir Patrick Dun's Hospital. It was the fashion at this time, however, for Irish students of medicine to finish their medical education at Edinburgh, whenever possible, and Corrigan spent several years there, receiving his degree of Doctor in Medicine in 1825.

He had attracted considerable attention in Edinburgh for his acute powers of observation, and received an appointment to the Meath Street Dispensary shortly after his return. From the service here he was appointed to the Jervis Street Hospital. He had to pay, however, for the privilege of being attending physician here, and this, as he said, made him more careful in endeavoring to secure all the advantages possible from his service.

After his publication of the article on "The Permanent Patency of the Mouth of the Aorta," or "Inadequacy of the Aortic Valves," he at once became recognized as one of the best clinicians in the city. This article appeared, in April, 1832, in the Edinburgh Medical and Surgical Journal, at a time when, as has been said, its author was not yet thirty years of age. As soon as he began his work at the Jervis Street Hospital, he gave a course of lectures, and as he was an excellent talker and a good demonstrator, he at once attracted a large class. In 1834 he joined Hargrave's School, in Digges Street, Dublin, as lecturer on the practice of medicine, and continued to hold the position for more than ten years. His success as a lecturer attracted many students from the other medical schools. Corrigan's class was often three times as large as that of other medical lecturers in the city. It not infrequently happened that as a result of his {209} popularity the medical class was two or even three times as large as the surgical and anatomical classes at the same institution. This was very unusual, for Dublin was famous for its anatomical instruction, and there were often five times as many pupils enrolled in the anatomy classes as in the medical classes.

It was not long before honors began to be showered upon Corrigan. When he was about forty the diploma of the London College of Surgeons was conferred upon him, and, as according to the by-laws of the institution the diploma can only be conferred after examination, Corrigan's examination was made to consist of the reading of the thesis, "Inadequacy of the Aortic Valves," before the faculty and the other members of the college. In 1849 the University of Dublin conferred upon him the degree of M.D., honoris causa.

There was only one setback in Corrigan's medical career in Dublin. When first proposed for honorary fellowship in the Irish College of Physicians, he was rejected. The reason was entirely apart from medical matters. Corrigan was the most active member of the Irish Board of Health, which had charge of the famine cases in Ireland, during the awful years between 1845 and 1850. This Board proposed to allow about five shillings per day to physicians who would be sent to the country to attend famine fever cases. It is easy to understand that this remuneration was considered inadequate and the Board's decision in the matter raised a storm of protest. Graves wrote very bitterly with regard to it, and blamed Corrigan for any part he might have had in it. The result was that for some time Dr. Corrigan was the most popularly hated physician in the medical profession of Dublin.

Corrigan made, up for any lack of tact he might have had {210} in this matter, however, before long, and in 1855 he obtained the license of the college. Two years later he was elected a Fellow. Before another two years had passed he was elected President of the College, and had the unprecedented honor of being re-elected four years in succession. The college further made up for its offense by having a statue of Dr. Corrigan, by the famous Irish sculptor Foley, made for its hall while he was still alive.

His own self-sacrificing work during the famine fever years was well known. After he had achieved nearly every distinction that his brother physicians could confer upon him, he was created a baronet. It was understood that this distinction was mainly meant as a reward for his services during the famine, though also for the time which he had so unstintedly given to the improvement of national education in Ireland, in the capacity of a Commissioner of Education.

Not long after his creation as a baronet, Sir Dominic stood, in Dublin, for a seat in Parliament in the Liberal interests. At first he was unsuccessful. In 1869, however, he was returned as one of the members of the government and sat in Parliament for five years. As he was a very eloquent speaker, it was thought that he would produce a very distinct impression in Parliament. His type of eloquence, however, did not prove to have any special influence in the cold British House of Commons, though Sir Dominic was always looked upon as one of the men to be counted on whenever there was under consideration legislation that affected Irish interests.

He was defeated for re-election in 1874, but it is rather to his credit than otherwise, since he had been approached by the vintners of Dublin, who were at that time all-powerful in municipal politics, and offered the membership, provided he would agree not to actively support the Sunday Closing {211} Bill, which was to come up at the next session of Parliament. Such an agreement Sir Dominic absolutely refused to consider as consistent with his legislative honor, and the result was the close of his Parliamentary career.

His years in Parliament, however, did not separate him from his interests either in medicine or in general science. He continued to be especially interested in zoology and made liberal contributions to the Dublin Zoological Garden. His residence at Dalkey, the grounds of which ran down to a rocky coast line, enabled him to obtain many specimens for his aquarium, and these were often transferred to the Dublin Zoological Gardens, for which he was one of the most active collectors. It was his custom during his Parliamentary career, though he was more than seventy, to leave London on Friday night and reach Dublin about eight o'clock on Saturday morning. From the station he went directly to the Zoological Gardens and took part in the pleasant breakfast which the Council of Officers of the Zoological Society, with some invited guests, had there every Saturday morning. He was noted for his humor, and his presence at these breakfasts was always appreciated, because in spite of his advancing years he was sure to add to the pleasure of the occasion.

His friends feared that his Parliamentary career might prove a serious drawback to his health at his time of life, and their fears were not without foundation. He suffered severely from gout, which left its marks upon his feet and made it very difficult for him to walk for a time, and maimed him for all his after-life. Though a man who had worked very hard all his life and who, at the age of seventy, practically took up another career, that of politics, Sir Dominic lived to be nearly eighty years of age; thus illustrating the old aphorism that "it is not work but worry that kills," and {212} furnishing another example of the fact that great men are great also in their superabundant vitality, and are able to spend their lives in the hardest kind of work, yet, barring accident, live on to an age beyond even that which is considered the average term of human existence.

Few men have had happier lives than Corrigan, if the high esteem of contemporaries can ever confer happiness. There was no honor in the gift of his Dublin professional brethren or of scientific bodies in which he was interested which was not conferred upon him. He was the president of the Royal Zoological Society, the president of the Dublin Pathological Society, of which he was one of the founders, and the first president of the Dublin Pharmaceutical Society. When not yet fifty years of age he was made physician in ordinary to the Queen in Ireland, and had the unapproached record of five elections to the presidency of the King and Queen's College of Physicians in Dublin--more than enough to make up for the one serious setback in his medical career, his black-balling by the college only a few years before. Foreign medical societies invited him to honorary membership and foreign universities conferred many degrees on him.

It is easy to understand then that his death was followed by tributes of the loftiest character to his professional work, to his standing as an influential member of the community and as a man of the highest intelligence and thoroughly conservative patriotism. The London Lancet said in its obituary: "By the death of Sir Dominic Corrigan, the medical profession loses one of its most conspicuous members, the University at Edinburgh one of its most illustrious graduates, and the Irish race one of its finest specimens. Though a perfect Irishman, Sir Dominic was as much at home in London, and though a sincere Catholic in religion, he had {213} too much humor and too much humanity in his constitution to be a bigot. It were well for Ireland if all her public men displayed so much moderation, sense, and good humor as Sir Dominic habitually displayed in dealing with difficult and delicate questions."

About the same time the British Medical Journal said, after calling attention to the distinguished contemporaries with whom Corrigan had been associated, that he was "haud minimus inter magnos--not the least among the great ones." "Indeed," his biographer added, "in originality of conception which, confirmed by later and independent observation, is the true test of genius, in a correct appreciation of the operation of natural laws, in producing and modifying the phenomena of disease, in a rare aptitude for testing his hypotheses by actual experience, and in a forcible exposition of them, he probably had no equal among his contemporaries."

In the midst of all his honors and political influence, including association with the highest English officials in Ireland, Sir Dominic Corrigan had remained a consistent and faithful Catholic. Educated at Maynooth as a boy, he was proud to remain the physician to the college during many of the busiest years of his life when he must have often found it very difficult to spare the time to fulfil the duties attached to the position. He was the consultant physician till the end of his life. He is not even yet, after a quarter of a century, forgotten by the poor of Dublin, who recall his kindly help in affliction and his generous aid often given in ways that would be arranged with studied care so as not to hurt delicate Irish susceptibilities.

The Irish School of Medicine has in Graves and Stokes and Corrigan a greater group of contemporaries than has been given to any other nation at one time. If we were to eliminate from nineteenth century medicine all the {214} inspiration derived from their work there would be much of value lacking from the history of medical progress. These men were deeply imbued with the professional side of their work as physicians, and were not, in any sense of the word, money-makers. Another very interesting phase in all their careers is that no one of them occupied himself exclusively with medical studies. All of them had hobbies followed faithfully and successfully together with medicine, and all of them were deeply interested in the uplifting of the medical profession, especially in securing the rights of its members and saving poor sick people from exploitation by quacks and charlatans. All of them gave of their time, their most precious possession, for the political and social interests of their fellow-men, and felt in so doing that they were only accomplishing their duty in helping their generation to solve the problem that lay immediately before it.

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