WAKLEY'S SUBSCRIPTION MEETING.
A most amusing scene took place at the Freemasons' Tavern on Tuesday evening, of which we subjoin an account. The object of the meeting was, "to present Mr. Wakley with some decided mark of their approval of his spirited conduct in his late trial;" or, in other words, if possible, to raise a little money, and bolster up the Lancet a little longer. The persons present were small in number, but great in zeal; and as much noise, hissing, laughter, and shouting, took place as would have done credit to a much larger assembly. As this is a merry season, and it may amuse our readers, we subjoin the speeches of the principal orators on either side: it will be perceived that both the Gazette and Lancet had some handsome compliments paid them; and that Wakley got thoroughly abused even by some of those who went to the meeting as the champions of reform. There was not a single individual present of any weight in the profession, and the chair was occupied by a young man wholly unknown, except as secretary to the meetings held two years ago on the subject of surgical reform. Could no one whose name might sound familiar in the public ear be prevailed upon to go?—could none be found but Pateys, Wallers, Mills, Elliots, Childs, and the Lord knows who? Where was he, the idol of the Lancet, who on other occasions graced the chair—where he who first ycleped that Journal the "invaluable"? Alas! poor Wakley, what an exposure of a sinking cause! even thy former friends tremble for their reputations, and desert thee.
SURGICAL REFORM.
A meeting was held yesterday evening at the Freemasons' Tavern, in pursuance of an advertisement calling on the "Friends of Surgical Reform, the Supporters of a free Medical Press, and the humane Contributors to our Hospitals and Infirmaries," to meet there, in order to adopt measures for presenting Mr. Wakley, the Editor of the Lancet, with some decided mark of their approval of his spirited conduct, in his late trial in the Court of King's Bench, at the suit of Mr. Bransby Cooper, and of the principles which he so powerfully advocated on that occasion.
[Mr. Patey, who was called to the chair, stated the object of the meeting; but as his speech was rather long, and contained nothing of the least interest, we omit it.]
Mr. Waller, in proposing the first resolution, adverted to the terms of the advertisement, and remarked that the question for them was not whether they would support Cooper against Wakley, or Wakley against Cooper; but whether they would have a free medical press or not—(cheers). Every body must admit that there was only one medical publication that was entitled to be considered free—only one that dared to tell the truth. Another had been attempted to be set up against it, but this wretched rival was gagged and manacled, and its reports were only a medium which distorted truth, and were almost unintelligible. It was not, however, to support any particular man, or publication, that he came to that meeting, but to support the general cause in which they were all interested. He concluded by moving, as the first resolution, that "the best interests of the medical profession and of the public are identified with the cause of medical and surgical reform; and that Mr. Wakley, as Editor of the Lancet, having given the first impulse to that cause, and having subsequently advocated it with undeviating firmness and fidelity, is entitled to the cordial thanks and support of this meeting."
Mr. Mills seconded the resolution.
Dr. Shiel said this was an important meeting, in his opinion; for, if this resolution were passed, it would identify the medical profession with the Editor of the Lancet. If the principle embodied in that resolution went forth to the world, it would be attended with consequences deeply injurious to the profession. He knew neither Mr. Bransby Cooper nor Sir Astley, and therefore he was perfectly impartial. The first question was, how far the medical press was conducted with advantage to medical science and the members of the profession. Now he contended, but with great respect, and disclaiming all personal hostility, that the Lancet had nowise contributed to the progress of medical science or the improvement of the profession—(loud hissing, and some cheers). He trusted that the meeting had not been got up by a few of the friends of Mr. Wakley, and he was sure that that gentleman was too respectable and too dignified in his proper person to need any such attempt—(applause). He trusted that the meeting was before the British public to ascertain how far the Lancet was useful or advantageous to medical science; and he hoped that, however partial the gentlemen present might be to Mr. Wakley, they would be governed in what they should do by the real interests of science—(hear, hear). The question was one of great interest; for it was one that embraced not only the freedom of the press but the advancement of medical science. With respect to the freedom of the press, they lived in a country where the law always maintained that principle. When Mr. Abernethy had applied for an injunction against the Lancet, Lord Eldon said that there could be no doubt that the Lancet was a most useful publication—(applause). He did not know whether that observation had been brought forward at the late trial; but taking the case—what was it? It appeared that the operation was one of peculiar difficulty, as stated upon oath by some of the most experienced surgeons of the day. This operation was laid hold of by the Lancet, and published not as a medical but as a tragical performance, in which all persons without science or knowledge were appealed to, and no opportunity afforded to Mr. Cooper to vindicate himself. Here, then, was a low and pitiful attempt made through the medium of malice and calumny (loud hisses and uproar). Here was a rude and pitiful attempt by malice and calumny (renewed signs of disapprobation). And yet it was contended that this had advanced the medical profession. The evidence on the trial went to shew that the dangers by which the operator had been surrounded were not small, and that there was no just reason to accuse him of unskilfulness in what he did; and was it then to be said, in the face of the British public, that a Meeting had been held at the Freemasons' Tavern to offer praise and reward to the individual whose conduct had, by the verdict of the Jury, been stamped with the accusation of untruth (hear, hear! and hisses)? He would not deny that there was a degree of talent displayed in the Lancet; but neither could it be denied that it was a public depredator by means of reports surreptitiously obtained; and the title of "literary raven," which had been applied by Sir James Scarlett, appeared to him to truly depict its character (great hisses and uproar). Was it to be contended that any one had a right to come into a private lecture-room, and catch up all he could hear, and then to publish what he had thus surreptitiously and fraudulently obtained (immense uproar and hisses)? As far as the medical interest was concerned, he looked upon the Lancet as one of the most injurious publications that had ever appeared (hisses). All the best writers on the subject had dwelt with peculiar emphasis on the necessity of secrecy among the members of the profession, but the Lancet broke through this good rule, and made public whatever came within its notice; and he had no doubt that if it could get at the cases that occurred in private practice, it would give them without any scruple (uproar).