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:
"When the ear heard her, then it blessed her;
When the eye saw her it rejoiced;
When the poor and suffering came unto her
They were comforted."
Surely a union like theirs was not destined to be but passing.
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.