Can there be a gentleman, can there be a scholar, can there be a Christian, among my persecutors? Gentlemen scorn dishonourable actions, scholars are liberal toward science and the students of it, and Christians are just at least, being commanded not to “bear false witness against their neighbour.” Can they possibly, can any learned individual among them, find texts to justify the accusing a man of a disgraceful offence, when he knows that none has been committed? There is that, however, which “makes all doctrines plain and clear,” and it is the duty of every man to acquire popularity—his interest at least—and if his interest, then his duty: because, if it be the duty of a citizen to promote the general good, how can he do that in a readier way, than by promoting his own good? For, the whole consists of parts, and he is, undoubtedly, a part of the whole. Wherefore, by consulting his own individual good, regardless of irrelevancies, (for such, in this scholastic view of things, honour and honesty must be allowed to be,) a man is evidently, and bona fide, playing the part of a good citizen. This is perfectly clear. It appears an irrefragable syllogism, as fair as some of ours in physic, perhaps as some of yours in law. For Divinity, I have not a word to say about it. I leave it (and the present argument too) in the pastoral hands of any Divine who may have already busied himself in it. Is it then, possible, some persons may inquire, who are less acquainted with the world and its hypocrisy, and with the officers of St. David’s, than you, Sir, must necessarily be; is it possible that any Divines have so degraded themselves as to have excited or abetted these malicious proceedings? Yet, it should be remembered, that a desire of popularity will transform the noblest spirits, as, in the fable, it makes a lion pride himself upon the accomplishments of an ass. The post of “a door-keeper” is little desirable, whatever may be said about it, and the sentiment of the Devil has more admirers:
“Better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven.”
Those who have been most active in the late prosecution, cannot have felt more real regret, than I have myself experienced. My uneasiness (whatever may have been the nature of theirs) consisted in a participation in the distresses of those persons, whose private feelings had been so deeply and (as I fear they supposed) cruelly wounded; and in the reflection, that the disgusting subject of human disinterment must be again agitated, commented upon, written upon; a subject which, of all others, whether relating to a necessity or not, ought to be kept profoundly silent, and almost mysteriously secret.
Upon this declaration, I proceed to state, that it is one of my objects in the publication of this letter, to make all the reparation I am able to the friends of the late Mrs. Taylor; assuring them, that I sympathize with them in those distresses, which must have arisen from the violence offered to some of the best of feelings, at the same time declaring, that the choice made (so far as I know, and as I believe) was entirely fortuitous, and by no means intended to affect their family particularly. It is my intention, moreover, by this letter, to apologize to the public in general, for certain imprudent conduct which has led to the late lamentable agitation of the public mind. “Nullum numen abest si sit prudentia.” But after this acknowledgment I must be permitted to explain myself, and to show wherein I allow myself to have acted imprudently. To be fairly understood, I must beg permission to say a few words which would otherwise be entirely irrelevant. Having it in prospect to settle in Devon, (solely from certain notions of its warmth and salubrity,) I determined upon Exeter as my place of residence, without any other knowledge of it than that possessed by every Englishman; viz. that it is a large and important city. It was represented to me as a place of enlightened and elegant pursuits, and upon this opinion a recommendation was founded, that I should offer to its resident gentry a course of Anatomical Lectures. In furtherance of this design, my friend, Mr. Wilton Toulmin, the originator of the proposition, held out to me the following very important inducement; that he could at any time purchase a subject from a certain medical school in London. This, from his influence at that school, I did not doubt for a moment. After some months I proposed my Lectures, by advertisement and by circulars; and having had abundant encouragement, I commenced them in October last, before an audience of about forty gentlemen of the greatest respectability. After the delivery of about ten Lectures, I arrived at the part of my course where it was necessary (as had been promised in the circulars) that I should exhibit the muscles upon the recent subject, and I made my application to London without the least doubt as to the result. After a few days, my friend (who is as zealous as persevering, and as able as any agent can possibly be) replied, that he had been refused in the most direct manner, and that the fact was to him quite inexplicable. He could not conceive the cause of it. Persons who were quite familiar to him, and whose business it was to act upon these occasions, replied steadily to every application, that an injunction had been laid against sending me a subject, and that it had been caused by some Exeter person or persons. Is it necessary, Sir, that I make any comment upon this manœuvre? It seems as if its ingenious author, who did me the honour of so much notice, determined to annoy me, and, if possible, defeat my object. To that end, he made himself acquainted with the place whence I intended to procure my subject, and then found means of spreading such stories as should influence its petty officers, box-carriers, beadles, porters, and the like, (for the head of that establishment is indignant at the transaction, and cordially promised me his protection,) so as to bring about that refusal, which (strangely enough) was so very efficacious. Having thus succeeded in driving me to the necessity either of discontinuing my Lectures, or of authorizing some disinterment upon the spot, this gentleman sat silently watching the event. None could be more fortunate. The resurrection-man seemed as if he had tacitly come into the gentleman’s project; for, having provided me, not with a subject only, but with some valueless linen also, to possess which, it was thought, would have made my misdemeanor a felony, the former, in the most obliging manner, enacted a dexterous and finishing stroke to the game thus played by the porters, box-carriers, and gentleman, in alliance. The man was paid for his trouble, and it was agreed that he should receive a second fee upon this sole and oft-repeated condition,—that he returned to the place whence he had procured the body, and destroyed every vestige of the transaction:—so, leaving the act “uninjurious because unknown.” He promised, he solemnly promised, to do this. I had no reason to disbelieve him, and, reflecting upon the probable efficacy of his promised reward, I confidently hoped, that the feelings of relations and of the public would have suffered no injury. What really occurred I need not repeat. The man, I suppose, went off in some other direction, without making any effort at doing what it was his duty to have done, and (as I at that time conceived) that of no other person. Since that affair, however, I can readily admit that it would have been prudent, and in every respect proper, either personally, or by means of another, to have ascertained that the thing was really and decently done and completed. So far as I have said, I acknowledge myself to have acted imprudently; and so far, therefore, do I apologize to the public, and more particularly to the friends of the deceased.
Anatomy, however, must be studied. Is it possible that any one can doubt this? I am informed, Sir, that it is possible. But if this be true, I am sure the strange opinion must be held by those who never employed a thought upon the subject. Give me leave to recommend such persons to consult their medical attendants upon the nature and consequences of the following diseases,—aneurism, hernia, stone, cataract. Let them inquire, further, how they are to be remedied, and how frequent they are in their occurrence; and then, and thereafter, I pledge myself that their prejudices against dissection of the human body will have been lessened, if not overthrown.
“Anatomy,” says Mr. Abernethy in a pamphlet published on the occasion of the enlargement of an Anatomical Theatre, under the sanction of the Governors of a contiguous Hospital; “Anatomy forms the only basis on which the superstructure of medical science can possibly be built. We must understand the healthy structure and functions of the various organs and parts of the body, or we can never understand the nature of their diseases, nor the rational mode of effecting their cure.”
Here is a broad declaration from the highest authority, and comment would but weaken its effect. To the great majority of thinking men, it will appear as if I were going about to prove that pain was an evil, by advancing arguments in proof of the necessity of Anatomy. But I have good reasons for believing, that certain persons who talk loudly about the horrors of disinterment, are quite unaware of the nature or object of that science, which they would consent to sacrifice at the shrine of an ill-directed, if even a praiseworthy feeling. Let me ask these persons, whether, in the event of a painful and dangerous illness occurring to themselves or their families, they would not desire the attendance of that medical practitioner whom they believed to be skilled in his profession? If any one of them reply to this inquiry affirmatively, I beg of that individual to read again the sentence which I have just quoted from Mr. Abernethy. Dissection and disinterment are both forgotten and forgiven, when agony distorts the features of a beloved sufferer, or when death seems to be impending over him; and when that science which but for Anatomy (and in the present state of things but for disinterment) could not exist, is ready at hand to relieve from torture, or to snatch from death. On the other hand, how numerous are actions against surgeons merely for supposed want of skill in treating fractures and other cases, when the patient does not acquire that relief which he expects. Suppose I were exposed to an action from my prosecutors for ignorance in that science which they have just prosecuted me for studying, who would be more ready to prosecute than they?
Lest, however, our patients should delicately refrain from seeking information of their medical attendants, as supposing that they would be unwilling to betray the secrets of their art and mystery, let them be assured, that necromancy and juggling are not farther removed from the practice of medicine and surgery, than are reserve and mystery from that theoretical information, which every educated practitioner is, at all times, willing to afford. Permit me, Sir, to use this opportunity of detailing a case in surgery: a practice which, in my opinion, ought more frequently to be resorted to, as a means of impressing the public mind with a conviction of the value, the indispensability, of practical Anatomy.
There is a large artery on each side of the neck conveying blood to the head: of so great magnitude is it, that, could the murderer wound it by a puncture only, his business would be sufficiently done, without any further division. A very small wound of this vessel would give vent to so many pounds of blood, in a few seconds, as would cause immediate death. Now this artery is subject to a disease called Aneurism, wherein its coats yield (perhaps on one side of the vessel) so as to form a small pulsating tumour. It is a membranous sac containing blood. It communicates with the interior of the artery, so that the contents of the tumour are easily squeezed back into the artery, whence, upon the removal of the pressure, the blood immediately returns into the sac. This tumour, gradually enlarged by the continuance of morbid actions, and by the impetus of the circulating blood, acquires, perhaps, the size of a large orange. The skin is in a constant state of increasing tension, and it finally becomes inflamed, and ulcerates, and the tumour bursts. After what was said of the size of the artery, I need not dwell upon the certainty of immediate death. The remedy consists in exposing the vessel between the diseased portion and the heart, (i. e. in the neck,) and closing it by applying a ligature upon it. This operation well performed, and under favourable circumstances, effects a perfect cure. But it is dreadful for any man to attempt it, (and there are many operations much more difficult,) without the most exact anatomical knowledge. It were far better that he allowed his patient to die secundum naturam, than that he presumed to hasten his death, by destroying him secundum artem. And, better were it many times over, that he experimented upon his own, than upon the throats of his unfortunate patients. Does he know the exact situation of the artery relatively to the deep parts about it? Does he know by what parts it is covered? Then let him proceed to expose it. It is surrounded by parts vitally important. It is in close contact with a great vein which partially overlaps it, and which is in continual motion. Should he wound this vein ever so slightly, the probability is that the operation is fatal; and yet, he has to separate it from the artery, and this at the bottom of a wound which is covered with blood. Important nerves environ the artery, and to include one of them in the ligature with it, would be as certainly fatal as to injure the vein. Suppose a dexterous man and an anatomist to be the operator: he leaves these important parts uninjured, because he knows their situation, and that of all the parts concerned; also, because he is calm and collected, from a consciousness of his own resources. He exposes a portion of the artery, he conveys a ligature around it, and his patient is safe. Suppose, again, that the operator, from a delicate sentimentality, has held disinterment to outweigh, in horror, any good that can arise from it, and has neglected to study Anatomy, lest he should encourage this “disgusting traffic.” Imagine this philosopher encountering these difficulties at the bottom of a bleeding wound. He cannot find the vessel at all, perhaps, before he has divided it, and a fatal gush of blood informs him of the result of his temerity. Or, he opens the vein, he divides some of the nerves, or he ties them up with the artery. It is all the same. He might as well have laid open the original tumour, and thus have killed the patient at once.
That man’s prejudices against Anatomy, Mr. Mayor, and even against disinterment, must be rooted indeed, who, in the face of such facts as these, would still oppose himself against some slight sacrifice of feeling, to secure such important advantages as anatomical knowledge has been seen to confer. But, Sir, the law requires of medical men that they be Anatomists. It is illegal to commence practice before obtaining the certificate of the Society of Apothecaries; and the candidate for this necessary credential is required to bring proofs of his having attended anatomical lectures, and is then examined as to his knowledge of Anatomy. Mark, therefore, Sir, I beseech you, the dilemma in which we stand. It is illegal to obey the laws. I would humbly hope, that a thorough investigation of the real state of things, may incline you, in any future transactions of this kind, to view them with that leniency which gentlemen will always feel inclined to extend toward scientific objects, and which has been ever held to be consistent with, if not the most ennobling quality of, Justice.