Although, then, the medical profession, as a body, is held by the people in very considerable estimation and respect, and although the individual practitioners are received in the families, whose confidence or friendship they have obtained, with the utmost cordiality and unreserve, giving place only to ministers of religion, nevertheless, they have good reason to complain of the manner in which they are treated by the Government, and the little care that is taken of their interests. Being all of them men of somewhat extended education,—with very few exceptions, gentlemen by birth—and very many of them deeply versed in various scientific subjects, it would not be too much to expect that the Government would at least throw around them the shield of its protection, even if it did not stimulate them to increased activity and exertion, by holding out honours and rewards, as prizes for the most distinguished. Yet how stands the fact? The law permits any man to call himself surgeon, and to perform the most capital operations; moreover, the Executive will not take the trouble to publish a list of the authorised practitioners in the three kingdoms. No authentic document exists, enrolling in one compendium the names of all who are entitled to practise in their respective departments, and, consequently, the public are kept in ignorance of those

whom in medical matters they may with safety trust. Nor is this all. It absolutely encourages unlicensed and ignorant pretenders, by permitting the sale of quack medicines for a paltry duty on each parcel vended. It derives, indeed, no small revenue from this disgraceful source, not only to the injury of the regular members of the profession, but to the imminent danger of the community also. In legal matters, no man can give you advice without being duly licensed to do so; but in medicine and surgery any man may prescribe the most deadly poison, or amputate a leg without the least authority, and, unless death result from his temerity, without being amenable to any penalty.

As a proof of the contemptuous treatment to which the profession is exposed at the hands of the authorities of the nation, great and small, reference need merely be made to the surgeons attached to the Poor-law unions, and to the assistant-surgeons of the navy. The latter—gentlemen who have passed through their education, and must of necessity be in their twenty-third year—are not allowed a separate cabin, in which to prosecute their studies, until after three years of service, but are doomed to the noise and inconvenience of the midshipmen’s berth. They are thus put on an equality with youths, six or seven years younger than themselves, and who are still in a state of pupilage. Whilst from the former, for the most part, is exacted a quantity of physical labour, sufficient to exhaust the stoutest frame, for a stipend considerably less than would be accepted by a skilled artisan; the threat having been in many instances put forth against the established practitioner of the neighbourhood, that if he will not undertake the duty on the terms proposed, the “Board” will invite some fresh man into the

district, to whom, of course, an opportunity would be given of shouldering his elder rival off his stool, and acquiring for himself a part, at least, of the professional emolument of the place.

Again; who would have presumed, that in this intelligent country the General Board of Health would only contain in its composition one medical man? Who would have believed that the important sanitary affairs, which come under its jurisdiction, should be investigated and adjudicated upon by a committee of gentlemen, with that one solitary exception, totally unconnected with medicine?

One great drawback against entering upon the duties of medical life, as a profession, will be acknowledged in the fact, that there are no high places of honour or emolument set apart for the members of that profession as there are for divines and lawyers. The utmost a medical man can hope for, because it is the highest point he can possibly attain to, is to have the honour of knighthood or a baronetcy conferred upon him—distinctions which are bestowed upon Lord Mayors and Sheriffs with a much more profuse hand than on the scientific portion of the community. The Archbishop of Canterbury ranks next to the members of the Royal Family, and the Bishops take precedence of all temporal Barons. The Lord Chancellor’s rank is next in order to the Archbishop; and thus the two highest offices in the realm are open to the ambition of the most obscure student in divinity and law, while to the professors of medicine not even a commissionership is ever offered.

With an equally niggardly hand are pecuniary grants and pensions distributed. There must indeed be something very extraordinary in the case that would induce a minister to recommend to the Sovereign a grant of

money, as a pension or otherwise, to any member of the medical profession, however benefited mankind might have been by his discoveries, and however old and indigent he might himself have become. Nor do widows and children fare much better. Should a pension be vouchsafed to the family of a distinguished professional man, left in straitened circumstances, it is, for the most part, comparatively inconsiderable in amount.

Successful soldiers are titled and pensioned, and any man who has invented a destructive weapon of war is held in high veneration; while those who have devoted their lives to the mitigation of human suffering, and have even discovered a certain means of abrogating pain under the most severe surgical operations, are passed by as unworthy of regard.

Unfortunately, the remarks I have penned above are applicable, for the most part, to all literary men, equally with the professors of medicine. In no country is literature more highly prized by the people, or less patronised by the Government.