Medicine bore quite its full share in the mitigation of the horrors and hardships of war that marked the Nineteenth Century. Its work was shown in the great reduction of pestilential disease incident to camp life, in prompt aid to the wounded, in the establishment of salubrious field and general hospitals, and in improved methods of transportation of the sick and wounded. Certainly the soldier on the sick list never before had such a fair prospect of rejoining his comrades safe and sound as he has now.

In the care of the insane, too--care not only in the sense of humane treatment, but in the systematic employment of measures for their restoration to mental soundness--the century has been marked by notable progress. This has been chiefly in the direction of preventing insanity, and although mental disease is said to be on the increase, it may undoubtedly be said with entire truth that its growing prevalence is not in proportion to the heightened frequency of "the strenuous life." We may confidently expect that a more pronounced mastery over diseases of the mind will come when physicians in general are taught psychiatry clinically, so that the beginnings of mental alienation may be intelligently met by the family practitioner.

The supreme achievement of the medicine of the Nineteenth Century undoubtedly has been the development of its preventive feature. When we recall the fact that but a few years ago an attack of infectious disease was interpreted as a visitation of Providence, by a perversity that even the triumphs of vaccination did not serve to do away with; when we contemplate the well-ordered and well-understood measures that are now resorted to in an ever-increasing number of communities (and resorted to not solely on the outbreak of an epidemic, but at all times), to purify the air we breathe, the food we eat, and the water we drink; and when we reflect upon the greatly reduced morbidity as well as mortality of most infectious diseases--we must realize the immense service that has been rendered by preventive medicine. No doubt we must all die some time, and the day is yet far remote when the only causes of death will be old age and injury; but a decided prolongation of the average lifetime, such as the life-insurance companies recognize, is an unquestionable gain to the human race.

A great blessing that has been brought about in great measure by medical men has been the establishment of the profession of nursing. The work of caring for the sick between the physician's visits is no longer, at least in large communities and in cases of severe illness, left to over-sympathetic and uninstructed relatives or to outsiders who traded on mystery. An intelligent and intelligible record is now kept of all important happenings in the sick room, remedies are administered as they were ordered, needless alarm at something deemed by the patient to be of ill omen is quelled, and in case of real emergency, overlooked as it might otherwise have been, the physician is summoned to meet it. The advent of the trained nurse marked an era in medicine.

The literature of medicine has fully kept pace in volume with the progress of the art itself, and its quality has steadily improved. To this the great tomes of that gigantic work, the "Index-Catalogue of the Library of the Surgeon-General's Office, United States Army," bear solid testimony. It is a consolidated catalogue, by subjects and by authors' names, of practically every medical book published throughout the world and of every article in the periodical literature of medicine. For its existence the world is indebted to Dr. John S. Billings, formerly a surgeon of high rank in the army and now the director of the New York Public Library, and for its continued existence to the United States Government, and it is to be hoped that Congress will never cease to provide adequately for its continued publication. Its completeness and its accuracy long ago led to its being prized everywhere.

There are some problems of which medicine has hardly yet entered upon the solution. Prominent among them is that of cancer. Little as we now know of the real nature of that disease, we know quite as much of it as we knew but a few years ago concerning other diseases equally destructive and far more prevalent, which, however, we have now practically mastered. Who can say that we shall not triumph over cancer while the Twentieth Century is still young? Our final triumph is indubitable.

The strongest individuality in the medicine of the Nineteenth Century was without doubt that of Rudolf Ludwig Karl Virchow (commonly written by him simply Rudolf Virchow). Although he took no direct part in any of the striking advances in practice that appeal to the laity, yet he was recognized the world over, among all classes of educated and well-informed persons, as the one beacon light of Nineteenth-Century medicine whose glow had been the steadiest and the most enduring. This is because of the wide range of his learning in matters not pertaining closely to his profession. His professional brethren hold the same view, and this is because he so well controlled himself--checked himself at every turn by the severest application of system--that he continued for more than half a century an anchor to hold medical thought strictly down to fact. This was from no natural lack of volatility, for he was an Acht-und-vierziger (Forty-eighter). In 1846, as a prosector in the University of Berlin, Virchow entered with Reinhardt upon a series of pathological investigations which at once received wide attention. In conjunction with Reinhardt, he founded the Archiv für pathologische Anatomie und Physiologie und für klinische Medicin[[6]] (a periodical familiarly called "Virchow's Archiv"), the publication of which was begun in the year 1847. Reinhardt died in 1852, leaving the editorship in the hands of Virchow alone, and he was still its editor up to the time of his death, on September 5, 1902.

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Archives of Pathological Anatomy and Physiology and of Clinical Medicine.