Sir Theodore Mayerne.—This eminent physician, who was a native of Geneva, and attended James I. and the two Charleses, once very neatly and deservedly rebuked a mean and ostentatious friend, who, after consulting him, laid on the table two broad pieces of gold (of the value of 36s. each). Sir Theodore quietly pocketed the fee; and, on his friend expressing or showing himself hurt at thus being taken at his money, said to him: "I made my will this morning; and if it should appear that I had refused a fee, I might be deemed non compos." Mr. Wadd caps this anecdote with another about Dr. Meyer Schomberg, who was much in vogue about the middle of last century. Mr. Martin, the surgeon, used now and then to visit him; and was once shown in when a patient was with him. After the patient was gone, Martin noticed two guineas lying on the table, and asked the doctor how it came that he left his money about in that way? Said Dr. Schomberg: "I always have a couple of guineas before me, as an example, or broad hint, what they (the patients who consulted him) ought to give."
Large Royal Fees in Later Times.—Henry Atkins was sent for to Scotland by James the First (of England), to attend to the Prince Charles—afterwards Charles I., but then in his infancy—who lay dangerously sick. For this journey and duty the King gave Atkins the splendid fee of £6000, which he invested in the purchase of the manor of Clapham. In 1685 a very handsome fee was ordered to be paid—but it was never paid—to Dr. King, for a brave breach of Court etiquette that saved the life of Charles II. for a time. Evelyn thus relates the incident, under date 4th February 1685:—"I went to London, hearing his Majesty had been, the Monday before (2 Feb.), surprised in his bed-chamber with an apoplectic fit; so that if, by God's providence, Dr. King (that excellent chirurgeon as well as physician) had not been actually present, to let him blood (having his lancet in his pocket), his Majesty had certainly died that moment, which might have been of direful consequence, there being nobody else present with the king save this doctor and one more, as I am assured. It was a mark of the extraordinary dexterity, resolution, and presence of mind in the Dr. to let him blood in the very paroxysm, without staying the coming of other physicians; which regularly should have been done, and for want of which he must have a regular pardon, as they tell me." The Privy Council ordered £1000 to be given to Dr. King; but he never obtained the money. The physicians who attended Queen Caroline in 1737 had 500 guineas, and the surgeons 300 guineas, apiece. Dr. Willis, for his success in dealing with the malady of George III., received £1500 a-year for twenty years, and £650 was settled on his son for life; the subordinate physicians had thirty guineas for each visit to Windsor, and ten for each visit to Kew. The Empress Catherine of Russia made Dr. Dimsdale—a Hertfordshire physician—who, in 1768, travelled to St. Petersburg to inoculate her and her son, a Baron of the Empire; and presented him with a fee of £12,000, and a life pension of £500. This sum of £12,000 is about the largest ever paid, in ancient times or modern, to one physician for one operation; although there are living surgeons who from private individuals have received fees that dwarf this imperial largess into comparative insignificance. Perhaps even more remarkable, however, than Catherine's liberal payment for good work, was the Emperor Joseph of Austria's reward for bad news. On his deathbed his Majesty asked Quarin his opinion of his case, and was frankly assured, in reply, that he could not expect to live other forty-eight hours. For this uncourtly but really kind affirmation of the truth, the Emperor created Quarin a Baron, and conferred on him an income of £2000. Louis XIV. gave his physician and surgeon 75,000 crowns each, after the successful performance of a painful, and at that time novel, operation. Beside this, the fees paid by Napoleon I. to the Faculty who attended Marie Louise in March 1811, when the Emperor's son was born, are trifling. Dubois, Corvisart, Bourdier, and Ivan, had amongst them a remuneration of £4000, £2000 being the portion assigned to Dubois.
Fee for a Political Consultation.—At the outbreak of the American war, Grenville was desirous to ascertain what was the state of feeling that prevailed among the Quaker colonists in America; and he could hit, as he thought, on no more effectual means of doing this, than by a conversation with Dr. Fothergill, who was a Quaker, and enjoyed the hearty confidence of his brethren of that sect. Fothergill was accordingly summoned to prescribe for the statesman—who, in reality, wanted to feel, through him, the pulse of transatlantic Quakerism; and the visit, of course, was made to take the turn of a vivacious controversy on American politics. At the end, Grenville put five guineas into the doctor's hand, and said to him, "Really, I feel so much better, that I don't think it is necessary for you to prescribe." With a shrewd smile, Fothergill, keeping a good hold of the money, said, "Well, at this rate, friend, I can spare thee an hour now and then."
Generous Refusal of Fees.—There are many anecdotes of refusal of physicians to take fees from persons whom the payment of them would have distressed; but they are all so nobly alike, that we need not quote any here. The benevolent and eccentric Dr. Smith, when established in a practice equal to that of any physician in London, did what perhaps few physicians in great practice would have done. He set apart two days for the poor in each week. From those who were really poor, he never took a fee; and from those who were of the middling ranks in life, he never would take above half a guinea! Yet so great was the resort to him, that he has in one day received fifty guineas, at the rate of half a guinea only from each patient.
Sticklers for Fees.—Sir Richard Jebb was once paid three guineas by a nobleman from whom he had a right to expect five. Sir Richard dropped the coins on the carpet, when a servant picked them up and restored them. Sir Richard continued his search. "Are all the guineas found?" asked his Lordship, looking round. "There must be two still on the floor," was Jebb's answer; "for I have only three." The hint was taken, and the right sum put down. An eminent Bristol doctor coming into his patient's bedroom immediately after death, found the right hand of the deceased tightly clenched. Opening the fingers, he discovered within them a guinea. "Ah! that was for me, clearly," said the doctor, putting the piece into his pocket. A physician, receiving two guineas when he expected three, from an old lady who used to give him the latter fee, had recourse to one part of Sir Richard Jebb's artifice, and, assuming that the third guinea had been dropt through his carelessness on the floor, looked about for it. "Nay, nay," said the lady, "you are not in fault. It is I who dropt it."
Fees collectively Irresistible.—Radcliffe attended a friend for a twelvemonth gratuitously. On his last visit his friend said, "Doctor, here is a purse in which I have put every day's fee; and your goodness must not get the better of my gratitude. Take your money." Radcliffe steeled himself to persevere in benevolence, just touched the purse to reject it, heard the chink of the gold, and put it into his pocket, saying "Singly, Sir, I could have refused them for a twelvemonth; but, all together, they are irresistible."
PALEY'S ECONOMY OF CONSCIENCE.
The great controversy on the propriety of requiring a subscription to articles of faith, as practised by the Church of England, excited in 1772 a very strong sensation amongst the members of the two universities. Paley, when pressed to sign the clerical petition which was presented to the House of Commons for relief, excused himself, saying, "He could not afford to keep a conscience."