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.
JOHANN MÜLLER, FATHER OF GERMAN MEDICINE
I say, then, that the personal influence of the teacher is able in some sort to dispense with an academical system, but that system cannot in any way dispense with personal influence. With influence there is life, without it there is none; if influence is deprived of its due position, it will not by those means be got rid of, it will only break out irregularly, dangerously. An academical system without the personal influence of teachers upon pupils is an Arctic winter; it will create an ice-bound, petrified, cast-iron university, and nothing else.
--Newman, Idea of a University.