or the principles of surgery, nor any sign of a really scientific method of study, yet they are replete with practice and practical procedures. With Cheselden as his master, Warner as his immediate pupil, and Hunter as his "pupil by tradition," Sharp becomes interesting as the connecting link between the old and modern surgery.

Very justly is Sharp thus highly esteemed as a surgeon. But none the less justly may ophthalmologists claim him as one of their most learned and progressive pioneers,and as one of the most brilliant ornaments to ophthalmic surgery. It is fitting, therefore, that his life and work be recalled and a registry made of them in the present-day annals of ophthalmology.

212 FRANKLIN STREET.

THE IMPORTANCE OF THE STUDY OF THE HISTORY OF MEDICINE.*

By EUGENE F. CORDELL, M.D.,

President of the Medical and Chirurgical Faculty of Maryland; Honorary Professor of the History of Medicine, and Librarian, University of Maryland; President of the Johns Hopkins Hospital Historical Club: Etc., Etc., Baltimore, Md.

Between ancient and modern historians two essential points of difference are readily observable. While the former make no use of critical research and confine themselves chiefly to contemporary events, to what they themselves have seen, perhaps participated in, or at least learned from eye-witnesses, with the latter research work is a conspicuous and essential feature, and there is no limit. as to the period dealt with. Nothing does so much credit to modern culture, or has been so fruitful of results, as the improvement seen in the methods of historical study. Until a comparatively quite recent period, it was true that under the name of history was accepted almost everything that had been handed down. from earlier times, no matter how contradictory to sense. and reason it might be. The same absurdities-such, for instance, as the suckling of Romulus and Remus by a wolf-were repeated generation after generation, and everyone accepted implicitly and literally the story of the Garden of Eden. From this undigested mass our historical iconoclasts have sifted out all such chaff and subjected the remainder to the most searching and critical study,

*President's Address delivered before the Medical and Chirurgical Faculty of Maryland, April 27, 1904.

with the result that we may feel reasonably certain that what remains represents actual occurrences. By the careful study of original authorities, of manuscripts, inscriptions, tablets, excavations, etc., they have gotten as near as possible to contemporary sources; that is, to the events themselves. And while we must acknowledge our limitations and feel that all human knowledge is in the nature of the case fallible, even that which we acquire from eyewitnesses, and still more so that which is handed down through many ages, the thought that we have exhausted all available sources of information and removed all obvious error places the subject upon a much higher plane, and gives us a sense of confidence and mental repose which is a very gratifying exchange for that blind belief in everything which formerly prevailed among the unlearned, or that distrust and disbelief which characterized the mental condition of the few who were real scholars. History may, therefore, now be said to have assumed something of the attitude of an exact science, and we are warranted in accepting it as the basis for philosophical deductions.

Now, since history is ever repeating itself, it is manifestly the part of wisdom to make it the object of our closest study, that we may profit by its lessons, both of success and of failure; for what others have done or have failed to do should point the way to their successors, whether in search of individual, social or national guidance. And what is true of history in general must be equally true of it in particular; the principles of the one are no less applicable to the other, of the whole to the part. The same evolution is seen in both; there is the same devious, uncertain path of human progress—now a sudden leap forward, now a halt, now an attempt to surmount or to find a way around some opposing hill, now a purposeless wandering hither and thither over the plain, now actually a retrogression. "It is, unfortunately, but too certain," says the learned Adams1 "that there is a tendency in the human mind at certain times to retrograde, as well as in others to advance, both in knowledge and virtue." May not a study of the chart of progress teach us, or at least give us hints, how to make these leaps, to avoid these arrests, to surmount these obstructions, to escape this purposeless wandering, or to shun the greater humiliation of actual loss of ground?

It is a remarkable fact that the great Father of Medicine, 2,400 years ago, almost at the very beginning laid down the only Translated by Francis Adams.

'The Genuine Works of Hippocrates.

London, 1849. Vol. 2, p. 521.

true principles of progress-principles that, under the name "inductive method," were falsely claimed for Lord Bacon 2,000 years later and that all real advance has been coincident with their observance. When the profession has gone astray or fallen back it was in consequence of their neglect, and more than once our art has been revived by restoring them to their place as our guides. It seems to be an imperative condition of our life and progress that we should be ever impressing upon ourselves that there is no royal road to knowledge, medical or other, and that he who would attain to its hidden treasure must be satisfied to dig deep into the everlasting hills without other guide than the uncertain chart left by those who in still greater darkness have previously delved therein. Everyone who has studied the history of medicine to any extent must realize the importance of this precaution.

Now, if I am justified in claiming that medical history is but a part of general history and, as such, entitled to the same consideration, it certainly must strike us as strange that the two should be held in such different estimation in our system of education. No subject is considered of more importance in the literary courses of our universities. As evidence of this, I find from the register of students attending the present session of the Johns Hopkins University, which I presume may be considered as representative, that the number of those pursuing historical study is exceeded in only two other departments, i. e., English and Chemistry, while it exceeds, and mostly far exceeds, those taking Mathematics, Physics, Geology, Zoölogy, Latin, Greek, Romance Languages, Sanscrit, Political Economy and Philosophy. On the other hand, it is rare to find the subject even mentioned in the curricula of the medical schools.

I have been at some pains to ascertain to what extent the history of medicine is taught in this country, and with this object in view, have written the Deans of fourteen of our leading universities which have medical departments for information. I append a table made up from the meagre replies received from the following: Harvard, Yale, Cornell, Buffalo, Columbia, New York, Pennsylvania, Johns Hopkins, Maryland, Virginia, Tulane, Chicago, Michigan and Minnesota. From this it appears that a full course of lectures, fourteen to sixteen in number, is attempted in but three, viz.: Universities of Pennsylvania, Maryland and Minnesota. There are four "lectureships," one just established and still without an incumbent, and another held jointly with a "Clinical Professorship of Dermatology." One of the "courses"

consists of three lectures! There is but one professorship, and that an "honorary" one. In two institutions "some" instruction is given by the Professor of Therapeutics and the Assistants in Surgery, respectively; in the latter case only in surgery. In one, and that one, strange to say, Harvard, lectures were attempted, but "no great interest was shown" and they were discontinued. There is no uniformity in those receiving instruction; sometimes it is the sophomores, sometimes the juniors or seniors, and sometimes any that choose to attend. In but one is the claim made that the course is compulsory. In none is there any examination. One can readily imagine what the attendance must be under such circumstances, and the experience of Harvard is instructive. However, according to the table, in three cases it is "good," "one-half of the class" and "poor," respectively. The table gives the size of the medical libraries attached to the universities. And, finally, I would call your attention to that very useful auxiliary, the medico-historical society. There are two of these, but as one is limited to a dozen graduates, is not attended by the students and takes no part in their instruction, it does not concern us here. The other is the excellent Historical Club of the Johns Hopkins Hospital, founded in 1890 upon a very broad basis, and which has exercised a profound influence not only locally, but throughout the entire country. Many able papers have been read before it, and there are few who have any claims to distinction in this field in the United States who have not been its guests.

Let me, in passing, point out the error of a statement by Prof. Roswell Park of Buffalo, the author of a very interesting course of historical lectures delivered before the University of Buffalo and published in 1897, viz., that his was "the first attempt in the medical schools of this country to give systematic instruction in the history of the science." For, over three-quarters of a century ago the far-seeing "Sage of Monticello" provided for the teaching of the history of medicine in his great University (Virginia), and the course of lectures there delivered by the late Prof. Robley Dunglison was published in 1872.3 As appears from the table, there is no course on the subject at that institution at the present time.

'Dedication of his. : An Epitome of the History of Medicine, Phil., 1897. 'History of Medicine from the Earliest Ages to the Commencement of the Nineteenth Century. By Robley Dunglison, M.D., LL.D. Arranged and Edited by Richard J. Dunglison, M.D. Phil., 1872.