1 -^^J #| ip ^Kfi' '"Vi* .«as 'r-Ski Mm, THE DEATH OF NATHAN SMITH, M. D. *> Bmodtrin Press. AN ADDRESS. OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OP 1VATHAN SMITH, M. D., FIRST LECTURER IN THE MEDIC VI. SCHOOL OF MAINE AT BOWDOIN COLLEGE, DELIVERED UY APPOINTMENT OF THE FACULTY OF MEDICINE, MARCH 26, lb-29. BY WILLIAM ALLEN, D. D., PRESIDENT OF EOWDOIN COLLEGE. BRUNSWICK: G. GRIFFIN........PRINTER. 1829. \ \N% 100 isze President Allen, Sir,—The Students of the Medical School of Maine, deeply realizing the loss, which medical science has sustained in the death of the late and much lamented Dr. Smith, and feeling de- sirous of perpetuating the various and important incidents of the life of one, so eminently distinguished for his benevolent character and professional worth; Therefore unanimously resolved, that a Committee be chosen to request of President Allen for publication a copy of his valuable and interesting Address,delivered March 26th, on the death of Na- than Smith, M. D. Moses P. Cleaveland. } Orlando H. Partridge. > Committee. C. B. Magoun. S ADDRESS. Though we offer no incense to the dead, who are far be- yond the sound of human censure or applause ; yet, for the good of the living, we may speak of their toils and exam- ples, of the excellencies, which gave delight, and sometimes even of the errors, which detracted from their worth. In the exercise of an enlarged judgment we shall surely ascribe a high rank to the skilful and faithful Physician. If great talents and knowledge confer power ; yet power alone> undirected to a good end, is undeserving of praise. The in- telligence of an arch-angel were little worthy of applause, unless guided by virtuous principle, or employed in the pro- duction of happiness. Of the various professions and occu- pations of men there are few, which can be deemed superior to the office of a physician, and few more laborious and at times more perilous. We may give the first rank to the teacher of divine truth, the guide of men to heaven. But next to him, who ministers to a mind diseased, shall we not place the physician, who ministers to a diseased body, and repairs the machine, with- out which the mind can effect nothing ? The mere man of learning is not to be extolled, until we first examine the tex- ture and uses of his knowledge. It is the relation of knowl- edge to the practical purposes of life and to the happiness of man, which must determine its value and should guide us in our estimate of its rank. The memory, it is evident, may be filled with names and notions and may be the storehouse of various kinds of learning, the whole of which is useless. The ministers of justice, including the expounders of the law, as well as those, who argue on opposite sides of every question, may be useful, especially in a contentious commu- nity, ia maintaining the rights of property and of character. 3^0^ 4 The race of statesmen may be of some advantage, although it is understood by the intelligent, that their wisest meas- ures are such, as interfere the least with individual enterprise; or, in other words, that they are wisest, when they make the fewest enactments ; wisest, generally, when they do noth- ing. All, that man wants from government, is protection from injury and freedom of action. The host of laws, which encourage immoralities, such as all lotteries and many licen- ses, or which confer monopolies, exclusive privileges, un- participated rights, and which lay shackles on industry,— and such are the greater part of human laws,—are worse than useless. Besides, a great statesman is very apt to seize upon a great project, and a great project is usually full of mischief. Whatever may be the schemes of other classes of men, the aim of the physician is benevolent and definite. He would alleviate pain ; he would remove or diminish suffering; he would tinge again the pale cheek, and light up the faded eye, and nerve the feeble arm ; he would send forth into the field of labor the poor wretch, who is extended on the bed of torture ; he would restore to the tenderness of affection the form of loveliness, which has well nigh sunk into the grave.—The physician enters into the sympathies of human nature. He confers benefits, and witnesses the emotions of gratitude. He cannot stand aloof from his fellows ; he has no selfish and solitary project, in the prosecution of which he may toil, as though he was an insulated inhabitant of the earth ; on the contrary he is in perpetual contact with his brethren. If skilful and attentive and faithful, he earns un- purchasable esteem, affection,and respect; and, if he proceeds through his great hardships and toils under the influence of the high motives of religion, he must form a character of great excellence and glory. The multiform studies of the physician as well as the scenes, with which he is continually conversant, seem pecu- liarly calculated to awaken in his heart sentiments of piety towards God and to urge upon him the duties of religion. Does he survey the structure and inquire concerning the uses of the human body ? In the earthly fabric of man he be- holds a world of wonders. He sees every where the unde- niable traces of divine goodness and ineffable skill. In the growth and contexture of the different parts, in their nice a adjustment and relation to each other, in their functions and results he finds abundant and overwhelming proofs of in- scrutable wisdom and benevolent design. And the convin- cing question must occur to every reflecting mind,—" He, that formed the eye, must not He see ? He, that planted the ear, must not He hear ?" If with any prepossession in favor of the doctrine of ma- terialism he should search for the power of thought ; yet, when he cuts into all the convolutions of the brain, and pries into its cavities, and even takes its pineal gland in his fingers and ex- amines it with his glass, he will find only matter, sheer mat- ter ; and, if he has a sound intellect and a good mind, he will say,—matter is not thought. He finds indeed internal or- gans, as he finds external organs of sense and perception, which are subservient, in some unknown way, to the opera- tions of the mind ; but the invisible tenant of the body, the mysterious mover of the wonderful machine eludes all his surgical inquiries. To know any thing of the mind, he must lay aside his knife, and must think. If the microcosm of man is to be deemed wholly material ; with the same reason might it be concluded, that the greater world around him, teeming with design and agency, is God ; and thus must ma- terialism, by just consequence, end in Atheism. Does the physician turn his attention from the human frame to the properties of other organized bodies or unorganized substances ? Here too he beholds ample proof of design, ir- tention, purpose ; of wisdom never baffled and never com- prehended ; of goodness co-extensive with the objects of nature. He sees every where order, number, and measure,— the forms of beauty,—the footsteps of an invisible, almighty agent. With the enlargement of his knowledge new evi- dences of all-pervading skill are presented ; as he ascends the hill, new wonders continually burst upon his vision ; in the widening horizon new ranks of objects just glimmer on the sense ; and when he considers, that beyond all, that is seen, there are new worlds, unvisited even by human thought, the happy abode of unimagined orders of created intelligences, and that all these worlds and beings are bound together in one vast and perfect system, and governed by one infinite mind ; bewildered and lost in the contemplation, he ex- claims—"Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord God al- mighty ! In wisdom hast thou made them all !" G Does the physician study the nature and remedies of dis- ease, and does he witness the decay and fall of the wonder- ful structure, on which he has been accustomed to gaze with delight?, Here he finds new lessons, teaching him some of the great principles of religion and urging him to the perform- ance of its duties. It will be natural for him to ask—Why is man a sufferer? Whence come the ten thousand ills, which flesh is heir to ? Is it innocent or guilty man, who falls a prey to the countless forms of disease ;—now shivering un- der the cold of the ague and now parched and panting under the heat of the fever;—now pierced by keen rheumatic pains or writhing under the long-continued agony of the gout;— now sending forth the hoarse-sounding, sepulchral tones of the consumption, or sinking down under the horrors of the epilepsy;—now driven about by the fiend of lunacy, or pin- ned down to his seat, half dead, by the incubus of palsy ? Is it on an innocent or guilty race, that God sends down the angels of his displeasure in the forms of contagious diseases, propagating themselves from man to man by a specific poison, or of epidemic diseases, travelling with the speed of the wind through a wide extent of country? Is it on innocent or guilty men, that the plague has pounced like a strong wing- ed eagle, seizing them in his talons and gorging himself every year with the blood of thousands? Are they innocent or guilty men, who feel continually the disruption of the dearest ties and are despoiled of beloved ones, more precious to their hearts than all the gems and treasures of the earth ; and who themselves, notwithstanding their precautions and in defiance of all skill, are continually swept away by the besom of destruction,—many millions of them every year into the silence and dishonors of the grave ? Is it through a world of virtue and holiness, that this wide and desolating torrent of death is rushing with irresistible force, bearing upon its bosom the fragments of all the structures of earthly happiness, and carrying dismay to every heart, which clings to the world and to its visions of good? Oh no! is the reply of intellect and reason: the earth is not the abode of the un- tainted and the holy. These miseries are not the blessings of an unoffended Father on his obedient children. It is Sin, which draws down upon us from heaven these judgments and most bitter woes of our earthly state, by which we are warned to abandon sin, lest it draw upon us in the future world mis- eries still greater and more intolerable.—Such are the thoughts, which, it would seem, miwt spring up in the mind of every reflecting physician, being well calculated to impress him with his guilt and to teach him the value of that system of mercy, which is disclosed in the gospel. As to the great and essential doctrine of the atonement, written as with a sun-beam in the Scriptures,—the doctrine of the sacrifice of Christ for us and of our receiving all spir- itual blessings through the mediation of the Son of God, who descended from the glory of heaven for our redemption,—it must appear very reasonable to one, whose professional vis- its teach him every day how completely dependent men are for their happiness and even for their lives on the kind inter- position of others. The doctrine too of the resurrection of the righteous dead in new forms of loveliness and dignity and glory must seem very probable to the student of nature, who is accustomed to watch the changes in the forms of organ- ized existence ;—who sees the vegetable seed, while decom- posing in the ground, shooting forth from corruption the new and beautiful plant;—who sees the embryo bird swelling into life, till at last it bursts the shell and soars away, on strong wings, into the skies ;—who sees also the creeping worm wind around him his grave clothes for his short sleep of death, at the close of which he breaks forth from his cere- ments a gilded butterfly, no longer to crawl upon the ground,. but to float in the air and to revel in the beams of the sun. Of the value of the art of medicine different opinions are entertained. It is to be hoped, that something has been ad- ded to the skill of physicians since the days of Richard Baxter, who says,—"As for the lamentable uncertainties in medicine, the poor world payeth for it. Anatomy, as being by ocular inspection, has the best improvement. And yet what a multitude of uncertainties remain ? Many thousand years have millions yearly died of fevers, and the medica- ting them is a great part of the physician's work ; and yet 1 know not, that ever I knew the man, that certainly knew what a fever is. I crave the pardon of the masters of this noble art for saying it. It is by dear experience, that I have learnt how little physicians know ; having passed through the trial of above thirty of them on my own body long ago, merely induced by a conceit, that they knew more than they did, and most that I got was th" ruin of my own body, and ■i this advice to leave to others—Highly value those few ex- cellent men, who have quick and deep conjecturing appre- hensions, great reading and greater experience, and sober, careful, deliberating minds, and had rather do too little than too much ; but use them in a due conjunction with your own experience of yourself. But for the rest, how learned so- ever, whose heads are dull, or temper precipitant, or appre- hension hasty or superficial, or reading small, but especially that are young, or of small experience, love and honor them, but use them as little as you can.— Use these men in common, easy cases, if necessary, and yet there the less the better, lest they hinder nature, that would cure the disease. If you dislike my counsel, you may be shortly past blaming it ; for though their successes have tongues, their miscarriages are mostly silent in the grave." These remarks may be excused in Mr. Baxter, as coming from one, who was the victim of quackery, and who lived at a day, when the advantages for medical education were in- deed poor and trifling, compared with the opportunities, which are now enjoyed. Since that period there has been a huge accumulation of experience, and it is brought with ef- fect to bear upon the mind of the pupil. Yet the warnings against rash experiments and theoretical innovations can never be unneedful. I am confident, we are all persuaded, that the combina- tion of qualities, enumerated by Mr. Baxter as necessary to constitute a physician, whom he would delight to honor, was found in that eminent man, on account of whose decease we are now assembled. He had penetration and a clear, ac- curate judgment. He was conversant with the experience of other men. He had large and long experience of his own. He was of ready memory and of present sagacity to apply his knowledge in any emergency. And he was cautious and considerate, far removed from hasty judgment and rash practice. The departure of Dr. Smith from the world is an immense public loss, and his former relation to our Medical School renders it proper, that we should take some notice of his life and death. Dr. Nathan Smith was born in Rehoboth, Mass., Sept. 30th, 1762,—the son of respectable parents, who, while he was yet young, removed to Chester, Vermont. Here at 9 the foot of the Green mountains, he grew up, occupied in healthful toils on his father's farm, and often drawn to the neighboring forests in pursuit of game. To the habits of early life may be traced a propensity or taste, which remain- ed in the years of his age, and which even here found its gratification amongst the wild fowl of Caseo Bay ;—a cir- cumstance, which strongly evinces the importance of early impressions and youthful habits. Even Dr. Palcy has some- where remarked, that much of his happiness was derived from the solitary amusement of angling.—But in the frontier for- ests of Vermont there sometimes lurked a more formidable enemy, than the bear or wolf. The prowling Indian occa- sionally created alarm. It is well known, that in the war of the revolution the work of the tomahawk was purchased with British gold. Burgoyne, in his celebrated proclama- tion, held forth the terrors of the savage yell and war whoop. Dr. Smith once encountered the hardships and dangers of an expedition against the Indians and narrowly escaped a bullet, aimed at him by a son of the forest from his place of ambush. At another time, on a hunting excursion in the winter, at a distance from home a thaw rendered his return impracticable for several days, during which he had no food but the flesh of his game. Feeble and sick, with difficulty he regained his father's house, where he suffered an illness of several months. Such was his manner of life, till he was twenty four years of age. His literary attainments were merely such, as made him the teacher of a school in the months of winter. But about the year 178G, being provi- dentially a witness of a surgical operation by Dr. Josiah Goodhue of Putney, the irresistible desire of becoming a student of medicine was awakened in his breast. Of this apparently slight circumstance who can estimate the conse- quences ? This intelligent physician would not, however, receive him, until he had made such progress in literature, as would qualify him for admission to Harvard college. These preparatory studies having been pursued under the care of the Rev. Mr. Whiting of Rockingham, he next appli- ed himself assiduously for three years to the study of his fu- ture profession under his able and faithful instructor, who survives his distinguished pupil. He had scarcely commenced the practice of his profession at Cornish in New Hampshire, on the east bank of Connecti- 2 10 cut river, when his thirst for knowledge induced him to at- tend the medical lectures and lectures on natural philosophy at Harvard college. The treatise which he read, at the close of the term, on 'the circulation of the blood,' was pub- lished at the request of the professors ; and he received, at the commencement in the year 1790, the degree of Bachel- or of medicine. With this enlargement of his views and of his means of usefulness he returned to the field of his labors. In the course of five or six years he Avas led to project a Medical Institution in connexion with Dartmouth college, in order to rear up for the wide-spread regions of the in- terior of New England a race of better educated, more en- lightened, and more skilful physicians and surgeons. His plan being approved by president Wheelock, he determined immediately to proceed to Great Britain, that he might drink from the great fountains of medical science, and might procure the necessary apparatus for the commencement of his great work. It was in December 1796, that he sailed from Boston in the bark Hope, for GlasgOAV. Shall 1 men- tion the reason of his proceeding to Glasgow rather than to London ? He himself, in one of his letters in my posses- sion written at the time, states it to be, that the price of the passage to London was 170 dollars, whereas he could proceed to Scotland for 75. His circumstances exacted of him the strictest economy ; and he was not a man to be controlled by motives of pride, nor one to shrink from inconvenience and hardship in the prosecution of a great object. Early in 1797 he attended the medical lectures and prac- tice at Glasgow, and also at Edinburgh, under Monro and Black, the veteran teachers of anatomy and chemistry, then near the close of their lives. We may well imagine, with what unceasing diligence and strenuous effort he must have employed his means of improvement in medical science and skill, since it was for but a short time, that he could partake of these advantages. His residence in Scotland could not have exceeded three months ; for early in April he was in London, where he continued also three or four months. A learned but eccentric gentleman* wrote concerning him to the »Rev. Samuel Peters, L L. D., a native of Connecticut and a graduate of Yale college. He was the Episcopal minuter of the churches of Hartford and Hebron about the year 1762. At the com- 11 president of Dartmouth college.—"With pleasure I acknowl- edge the receipt of your letter by Dr. Nathan Smith, who has lately come here from Edinburgh, where he has gathered oriental if not boreal light to enlighten the occidental region with the healing art—I am thankful to you for introducing him to me ; his manners, conversation, and science entitle him to my esteem and your recommendation to my best at- tention. His residence here is but for a few weeks, and I am sorry for it more on my own account, than his, as science, wisdom, and virtue are not ornaments of this capital ; yet we hope they will revive, when these dark days are gone by, and the halcyon days of peace return."—Soon after he left London, in consequence of a recommendation from president Wheelock to Dr. Lettsom, he was elected a corresponding member of the London Medical Society,* although in his own country he had not yet obtained the degree of Doctor in medicine.—From Edinburgh he sent to Dartmouth med- ical books to the value of 30 pounds, which books, as he said in one of his letters, he hoped the trustees of the college would purchase, as he could ill bear the expense.—At Lon- don he procured also, as far as he deemed indispensable for commencing the proposed medical institution, an apparatus mencement of the revolution he emigrated to England, where he resided 30 year*. In 1805 he returned to this country. In 1817, at the age of 80, he made a journey to the falls of St. Anthony. He di- ed at New York in April 1326, aged 90 years. He was the author of a much famed history of Connecticut. * Dr. Peters, in a letter to president Wheelock, says, that Dr. Smith's diploma was committed to Gen. Ira Allen, who in his voy- age was captured by a British man of war. He adds, "Dr. Smith has, if he received my letter, I presume, written a letter of thanks to Dr. Lettsom and the Society, and also communicated some new discover}' respecting the poison of the rattle snake and the cure of his bite, or the virus of the mad dog, or some ^reat surgical opera- tion, which may be printed in the annual volume of the Societv. I see no reason, why the wisdom and experiments of physical gentle- men in the Northern states should not brighten the pages of Great Britain, as well as the discoveries of physical gentlemen in Philadel- phia, 8tc, especially since the Northern slate governors and sena- tors are become more aristocratic, than the Southern. Col. J. A. Graham, by his biographical history of the philosophers, statesmen, and literati of Vermont, might have induced others beside Dr. Williams and Gen. Ira Allen to publish a history of that brilliant state, which appears to excel the sister states in all things, excep- ting in Christianity. But this defect, I hear, is remedied by the sys- tem of Gen. Ethan Allen, and that of Doctors Chauncey, Hunting- ton, and Murray."' I? for anatomy, surgery, and chemistry.—It was about the lOtli of Sept. 1797, that he arrived at Boston in the ship Apollo. The projected school was opened, and the first lectures delivered in one of the rooms of Dartmouth college early in the year 1798. He was assisted in chemistry by one of his pupils, Dr. Lyman Spalding, afterwards president of the college of physicians and surgeons in the western district of the state of New York. In order to estimate fully the enterprise of Dr Smith and the degree, to which medical science is indebted to his efforts, it is necessary to advert to the circumstances of our country in regard to medical intruction at the time, when he institu- ted the school at Dartmouth. If we go back to that time,— only to the year 1798,—we find in the whole United States but three medical institutions ; two of them in the great cit- ies of Philadelphia and New-York,and one at Harvard college. The solitary school of New-England had ten years before presented to the University two candidates for the degree of Bachelor in medicine ; and they were the first, who were admitted in course to that degree. One of them attained to the degree of Doctor in medicine in the year 1795, Dr. Smith reached the dignity of Bachelor in 1790. It was not till 1798, that he received the degree of Doctor ; and that, not from Harvard college, but from Dartmouth.—Although there was one medical school in New England ; yet it was not very prosperous even under the instruction of Warren, Waterhouse, and Dexter ; names familiar in our medical his- tory. Even for some years after 1798 there were but few students of medicine, attendants on the lectures, as I may safely assert from being a hearer of them myself. It may then be concluded, that the great body of the young gentle- men, who were rising up in the practice of medicine in New- England, were very inadequately supplied with the advanta- ges of scientific education. Many, who might wish to re- sort to the school at Cambridge, were prevented by pover- ty. In these circumstances, the creation of a new school, in the interior of the country, where the expenses would be greatly diminished, could not fail to produce a most impor- tant effect on the progress of medical science. It was in this respect what the opening of a navigable canal or of a broad turnpike is to the farmer, who had previously been cut off from access to a market. Or rather it was the plant- 13 lug of a town and the creation of a market in the very neigh- borhood of the farmer. It was doing a great thing for the best and highest kind of internal improvement ,*—improve- ment in useful knowledge and in the power of doing good. Dr. Smith was appointed sole professor in the medical school at Dartmouth college. The enterprise was indeed a bold one ; and it must in the view of many, have appeared like presumptuous rashness in a young physician, without what is called a liberal education, to undertake to rear up by his single arm an institution, which three learned professors at the first college of New England could with difficulty sustain. For twelve years he lectured himself on all the branches, usually taught in medical schools, assisted only in two courses in regard to chemistry. It was not till 1810, that he receiv- ed an able co-adjutor in Dr. Cyrus Perkins, professor of an- atomy, now of the city of New York.—Through his efforts the legislature of New Hampshire was induced to erect a valuable brick building for the benefit of the institution. After devoting himself for fifteen years to his school and to the laborious duties of an extensive medical and surgical practice in Hanover and in many towns of New Hampshire •A plain reader of our national Charter may doubt, whether the system of internal improvement, which has been entered upon by our general Government,—however advantageous to individual states or individual men,—is permitted by the Constitution. Nor can the ben- efits of it be equalised among the different members of the Union. The Cumberland road, constructed at the expense of all, has already cost some millions of dollars ; but of what benefit is it to Maine and to Georgia? The system may be regarded as a whirlpool, which will swallow up all the resources of the country. It may also oc- casion perpetual discord. If the general Government must appro- priate large sums for such projects ; why should not the amount be equally divided among the several states, and left to their disposal? Yet, in this case, there is the same difficulty in equalising the advan- tages among the people of a state. With how much greater wisdom and equity would the money be appropriated by the several states to the establishment of various schools in every village and the dif- fusion of knowledge and virtue among the people, thus giving them the true means of happiness, and leaving it to their own enterprise and economy to construct roads and rail roads, bridges and canals, when it shall be for their pecuniary interest to make them ? The Legislature of Maine, by liberally expending 1000 dollars a year on the Medical school, has already brought forward 200 well- lnstrncted young men to save the lives of thousands of our citizens, who might otherwise have fallen victims to quackery. Yet some eastern bridge, to be built by lottery, will cost the people more mon- ey, to say nothing in regard to morals, than the whole expenditure for the benefit of medical science. 11 and Vermont, and after seeing his annual pupils increased to the number of sixty or more, he was in the autumn of 1813 invited to the chair of the Theory and Practice of Physic and Surgery in the school, about to be opened at Yale col- lege. Yet he afterwards delivered one course on these branches at Dartmouth. I know not how far pecuniary motives could have indu- ced him to accept this appointment; but it is probable, that other considerations had much weight in constraining him to abandon "the child of his hope, which he had reared from the cradle." The friend and co-adjutor of president Wheel- ock,and surrounded by numerous friends, he must have strug- gled against powerful feelings, when he withdrew from the scene of his labors at Hanover. However, he had the satis- faction of leaving behind him a flourishing institution under able successors ; and it was in accordance with his charac- ter for enterprise, that he should lend his aid to the new seminary at New Haven. Of his toils for sixteen years in the school at Yale col- lege, of his extensive practice in Connecticut as a physi- cian and surgeon, and of the general affection and respect, which he acquired, I need not attempt to give an account. It more immediately concerns us to advert to his labors amongst ourselves. It was in June 1820, that the first legislature of the new state of Maine, to their great honor and to the immeasur- able advancement of medical science, passed the act, estab- lishing and liberally endowing the Medical School of Maine. The governor and his associates in the direction of our pub- lic affairs took broad views of what would conduce to the honor and interest of the state. Yet perhaps the creation of this school may be in no small degree ascribed to the fact, that Dr. Smith had been consulted on the subject of being placed at the head of it, and had expressed a disposition to come to Maine. Before the session of this legislature, and before I became a resident in this state, I received from him a communication, in reply to a letter suggesting the plan of such a school in Maine, in which he sail, he should take great delight in co-operating in such an institution. He added—" I think, after what experience I have had, we could form a medical school, that would, in point of real util- ity, equal any in the country.—In a new state like Maine, 15 where neither habit nor party have laid their ruthless hands on the public institutions and where the minds of men are free from their poisoning influence, every thing is to be hoped for. Such a field would be very inviting to me ; and such a place I take Maine to be. For though they have heretofore been divided into parties, I am disposed to think, that now they have become a state and are left to themselves, party spirit will in a great measure subside, and they will be am- bitious to promote the honor and the welfare of the state." These suggestions may throw some light on the reasons of his removal from Dartmouth. He saw the operation of causes, which afterwards were more fully developed. He had strong feelings in regard to the narrow prejudice and miserable temper and policy, which brought disquietude to the last days of his patron and friend, and which have disinherited a public institution of the blessing of the Government of the state. The Medical School of Maine was opened in the spring of 1821, the governors of the college having very liberally offered apartments for the purpose in Massachusetts II; 11. Dr. Smith delivered the various lectures, with the exception of chemistry, in which branch the most ample instruction had been previously for many years given at the college. He was assisted however in anatomy by the expert hand, which two years afterwards relieved him wholly from that depart- ment ;—by the skill and ability, which were soon associated with him in office, and which remain for the benefit of the school, while the grey hairs of experience have returned to the dust. There were twenty one young gentlemen at the first course. The next year they increased to forty nine. I am now ad- dressing nearly a hundred members of the school. Much may doubtless be ascribed to the reputation, expericr.ee, and skill of Dr. Smith. At the first course he couched nearly twenty eyes for the cataract. One eye was completely re- moved; a leg was amputated; and various other surgical op- erations were performed, which brought relief to difierent sufferers, while they increase:! the advantages of the students. Thus, eight years ago, sprung up the Medical School of Maine, realizing the highest anticipations, which had been formed, and assuming at once a rank and character among the best institutions of the kind in America. It ought never 1G to be forgotten, that the wisdom and liberality of the Legis- lature, by endowing the School,have given it an apparatus and library, which if now inferior to some in the United States, are yet the first in value among the seven or eight institu- tions of New England; and which can hardly fail to draw more resident students to this School, than will be found at any of the others in the eastern states. For five years this School enjoyed the valuable instruc- tions of Dr. Smith, when from the circumstances of his con- nexion with the institution at New-Haven he found it neces- sary to decline lecturing in any other establishment. But since 1825 learned professors from other schools have suc- ceeded him, in his particular department, and have brought to us the fruits of their investigations and experience. Dr. Smith, it has been stated, established the fourth medical school in the United States. He lived afterwards 31 years, in which period he saw nearly twenty other similar institutions, organized and flourishing in different parts of the country, attended perhaps by two thousand students. And to what man more than to him is to be ascribed this vast change in the medical advantages of America? Who can estimate the value of the results, which may be traced to the blessing of God on the enterprise of one man ; and that man unlettered and unknown, till he was nearly thirty years of age ? The account of his sickness and death I shall give you in the words of his colleague at New Haven, Dr. Knight, in his Eulogium on Dr. Smith:—"About the middle of July last he was seized with a severe illness, which, after a short contin- uance, left him, but in a very debilitated state. From this state his friends perceived with alarm, that he did not entire- ly recover. He continued to be weak with occasional attacks of illness through the remainder of the summer and autum- nal months. Though enfeebled in body his mind retained its usual vigor and activity; and unwilling to yield to what he called a trivial complaint, he continued, with the excep- tion of a few days, his laborious employments. No consider- able alteration in the state of his health appeared until about four weeks before his death, when he was attacked by a se- vere influenza. This was accompanied and followed by a painful and vertiginous affection of the head. By the use of remedies these symptoms were alleviated. On the evening of Tuesday, Jan. I3th,he first perceived a slight numbness of i: the left hand, with a trifling indistinctness in his articulation. These symptoms of paralysis gradually increased, until the morning of the 26th Jan., when the powers of life became exhausted, and at six o'clock, in the 67th year of his age, he slept the sleep of death." The enterprise of Dr. Smith is evinced by the history of his life. I cannot attempt to describe his other peculiar and prominent qualities ; though much might be said of his habit of patient and full observation of facts, from which re- sulted an unfailing judgment and an apparently intuitive knowledge of disease ; of the Avonders of his memory,which always readily furnished him with its treasures ; of his decis- ion and resolute, unflinching purpose in pursuing the course, which the exigences of the case demanded, at whatever haz- ard to his reputation; of his remarkable gentleness and kind- ness, which gained the confidence and affection of his pa- tients ; of his fidelity and assiduous, unremitted attention to the sick, and of his cheerful, self-denying, unmercinary toils and exposure to cold, hunger, and various hardships and dan- gers in visiting the abodes of the poor. In some great men there seems to exist a strong power of repulsion ; but the manners of Dr. Smith were attracting and delightful. He had a keen relish for the pleasures of social intercourse. He was steady and permanent in his friendships. By his numer- ous pupils he was beloved; and as he had probably more ac- quaintances, than any other man in New England ; so had he more attached friends. Connected with the last sickness of Dr. Smith there waa one interesting event, to which I cannot forbear to allude. Y'our own experience of paternal tenderness and of the zeal of the parental heart for your welfare may lead you to im- agine, that, when he was about to be separated from his family, he must have been .solicitous for the interests of his younger children. His three elder sons had been educated by him and introduced into the medical profession ; but his younger son was yet to receive his education. The dying father, under the pressure of poverty, could make no pro- vision for him. That he was poor, after all his toils for the advancement of medical science and for the alleviation of hu- man misery, is no reproach to his name ; for he was not in em- barrassed circumstances, as some have been, in consequence of his vices and extravagance. Perhaps he was poor, be- •J IS cause he had not a heart to exact his dues from the children of poverty. Perhaps he was poor, because he was liberal and generous.—He could not provide for the education of his younger son. He had nothing to bequeath to him. His own toils and cares were over. Who would be a father and friend to his son ?—In this state of solicitude and anxiety, the door of his sick-chamber was opened and there stood before him a respectable physician of Boston, formerly his pupil ; and he came to tell him to die in peace, because his son should be taken care of. This visit, for this object, and as a testimo- ny of affection and respect, sent a thrilling, stimulating power through his whole palsied frame. His countenance was lighted up with joy. The tongue of the paralytic was loosened and he spake with distinctness ;—and doubtless there was not absent from the gladdened heart a warm emo- tion of gratitude to God. I am personally unacquainted with this physician, who brought this consoling balm to the heart of his aged, dying teacher ; but sure I am, that for this good deed his name de- serves to be held in higher honor, than if it was encircled with all the laurels of medical science and skill, which have adorned the brows of great physicians from the days of Hippocrates down to those of Smith. Knowledge is indeed power ; but it is only the application of the power, which determines whether it be useful or pernicious. True wisdom consists in virtue. Benevolence is higher than science. The kind affections of the heart, even when not conjoined with the motives of piety, are more ennobling to the character, than wondrous talents and treasured learning.—Another of his pupils, and his successor in the school at Dartmouth, also repaired to New Haven to visit him in his sickness. These incidents may carry back our thoughts to the last days of So- crates, surrounded by his disciples, ministering consolation and most deeply interested in his fate. You may be aware, that the charge of utter regardless- ness of religion and even of undisguised infidelity is often brought against the medical profession. But it may be well doubted, whether physicians are peculiarly obnoxious to the disreputable charge. There have questionless been many infidel physicians; but there have been infidels also in other professions and among other classes of men. Within my own memory there was a period,—at the close of the last century,— 19 when even in this country many intelligent men were not un- willing to be known as disbelievers in Christianity,-as rejecters of that truth,which God has revealed from heaven for the sal- vation of a lost world. In Europe the prevalence of infidelity was more general. You need not be informed, that in France it was triumphant; and well might it triumph, when the con- test was not with Christianity itself, but with the undeniable idolatry and absurd and incredible dogmas,—with the bigot- ry, the tyranny, the hypocrisy, and imposture of the Catho- lic religion. Suppose it were proposed to yourselves as an article of faith, that a piece of bread, which you eat, and which has the taste and all the qualities of bread, is not bread but is the living body of the Son of God; and that besides being required to make this sacrifice of common sense and of reason, you were also required, by a gross act of idolatry, to bow down and worship that piece of bread as God; I ask you, whether if you regarded this doctrine and this practice as essen- tial to Christianity, you would not find yourselves constrained to reject the gospel ? Would you not say with unanswerable ar- gument, that miracles, the great proof of revelation, are proved only by an appeal to the senses; and that if the testimony of the senses in regard to a piece of bread cannot be trusted, then must we also distrust that testimony in regard to a miracu- lous event, such as the lighting up of the dark vision of the blind, or the quickening of the stiffened limbs of the dead? If you deemed the Catholic absurdities a part of the texture of Christianity, as the untaught and unexamining infidels of France deemed them; would not the uneradicable principles of common sense, which God has implanted in your intellect- ual nature, constrain you to reject the gospel? In this man- ner, I am persuaded, has the great Roman apostasy and cor- ruption of the truth of Christ led to infidelity. That the wide- spread torrent extended to this country cannot be denied. However, it cannot be necessary to look to a foreign land for the origin of this plague. It is indigenous, home-born, the offspring of our depraved nature. It were an intermina- ble labor to give a history of the causes of unbelief or of indifference to religion. The early want of instruction and pious discipline, the companionship of an evil world, the pressure of earthly cares, the pride ,which revolts at author- ity, the reliance on reason instead of seeking information of the future from Him, who only can give it, the detection by :o keen-eyed penetration of sheer hypocrisy in some of the professors of religion, the neglect of all inquiry into the evi- dence and of all examination into the doctrines of the word of truth, with various other circumstances, might be men- tioned ; but they all derive their force from a heart, by na- ture destitute of the love of God. If, among our eminent physicians, there have been some unbelievers, there have also been conspicuous christians, such as were in foreign countries Sydenham, Boerhave, and Haller. Need I speak of Ramsay of South Carolina, the American historian, who was for many years a worthy mem- ber of a congregational church, and who, although he fell by the hand of a maniac-assassin, yet died in the utmost tran- quillity and serenity, relying on the mercy of God through the blood of the Redeemer ?—Need I speak of Redman of Philadelphia, eminent for piety, and a faithful elder of the presbyterian church ? Much of his time at home was spent in reading pious books and in the offices of devotion. Of death and of the scenes, which await the soul in the world of spirits, he was accustomed to converse with the utmost cheerfulness.—Need I speak of Ridgely of Delaware, a mem- mer of the episcopal church, who was particularly attentive to the moral and religious education of his children, regard- ing merely intellectual culture without the discipline of the passions and of the heart, without efforts to bring the youthful mind under the influence of virtue and piety, as only giving wings to the pestilence, or as putting power into hands, which would employ it for purposes of evil. Hence it was, that he earnestly recommended to his children and to all around him the diligent study of the word of God.—Need I speak of the illustrious Rush, who deemed riches and fame as incomparably less valuable, than the religious principles, which he received from his parents, and who was accustom- ed at the close of every day to read in his family a chapter of the Bible, and then to address God in prayer ?__Need I speak of Monson, the head of the Medical Society of Con- necticut, religious in youth and religious in old age, who could be the spiritual teacher of his sinking patient and was accustomed at his bedside to commend his departing soul to the mercy of God, and who himself died in the triumphs of christian hope ?—Need I speak of Bowen of Providence, who himself suffered for years an agonizing disease, but who 21 found in the sublime doctrines and gracious promises of the gospel the support and consolation, which the sufferer can derive from no other source ; and who passed through the fiery furnace to come out, as his friends are persuaded, like gold from the hands of the refiner, dying with a humble, cheerful reliance on the blood of the Redeemer ?—Or need I speak of our own Mitchell of Maine, whose departure from the earth was not through the lingering pains of the sick- bed, but sudden as the lightning-glance from heaven ; and who by his habitual, ardent piety,—by the manifestations of a heart, at all times kindled by the truths and hopes of the gospel,—seemed to be always ready to wing his flight to another and a better world ? I know no reason, why I should not allude to the fact, that Dr. Smith, until a late period of his life, did not seem to have adopted any established principles of religion ;—a circumstance, which some of his best and most attached friends often deplored, while they expressed the wish and the hope, and I doubt not, uttered also the prayer, that he might become a true disciple of Jesus Christ and die in the peace of the believer. If such prayers have been offered for him ; in the estimate of far-looking reason, a richer return could not be made to a respected and beloved physician for his sympathy, assiduity, and skill. May it not be, that the prayers of many a poor woman, whom he ben- efited by his counsels, entered into the ears of the God of grace and mercy ? In giving, for a long course of years, no manifestations of a religious character he did not differ from a multitude of intelligent and active men. The cares and toils of the world engrossed his attention. And when we consider, that our common, natural distaste for the sublime pleasures and self-denying duties of piety was strengthened by habits of life, which left him little leisure for religious meditations and inquiries, Ave shall perhaps be rather surpri- sed at the purity of his moral character, than at the absence of that love to God, which is the first duty and highest adorn- ment of man. The various peculiar influences and motives to piety, under which a physician lives, like all other religious advantages, may indeed be neglected and resisted ; and in this case the heart becomes more and more estranged from the Father of excellence and a recovery to holiness is ren- dered more and more hopeless from the power of habits, r)0 and shews more clearly, when it takes place, a divine inter- position for the reclaiming of the wandering spirit. Need I say any thing to you of the importance of early religion, of the tenderness and flexibility of youth, and of the amaz- ing strength of long continued habits ? In your anatom- ical studies do you not learn, that the covering of the brain is at first pliable, and can be pressed into any shape ; but that after a few years it becomes hard and fixed in form, like a helmet of brass ? Such is man in repect to his religious character. The difficulty of change will at length become extreme. Even for a man unstained with vices, who has grown up in the love, the pursuit, the possession of riches, to become attached to the treasures of the gospel is more difficult, than for ' a camel to pass through the eye of a nee- dle.' Yet what is impossible with man is possible with God. And this is the ground of prayer, that there is an almighty agent, Avho has access to the human soul, and who has prom- ised to hear the supplications of his servants. Our only hope is in the divine power, which must interpose to reno- vate the decayed organs of holy perception and soften the rigid fibres and re-invigorate the palsied instruments of holy action. There are scenes of various kinds, witnessed by the phy- sician, which, one would think, could not fail to teach him the value of religion. For sometimes he is called to behold the terrible conflict of the dying man, who finds himself un- prepared for his departure, yet hastening to the horrors of his doom. At other times his eye rests upon a far different scene, in the submission, the tranquillity, the exulting hope, the sublime triumph of the departing believer. Such a scene of christian peace and heavenly serenity Dr. Smith, I believe, once, with deep impressions, beheld in the last hours of a beloved daughter, whose mortal part now sleeps in the grave- yard on the banks of the Connecticut at Dartmouth. Near her repose also the remains of another christian, whose death overwhelmed Dr. Smith with wonder, and, I think, must at the time have convinced him, beyond all question, of the truth and efficacy of religion. Such indeed, I have often heard, was the effect on his mind. I refer to the death in 1810 of Mr. Hubbard, professor of mathematics at Dartmouth col- lege. This was a gentleman of science,—a gentleman also of feeling, and taste, and various accomplishments,—univer- 23 sally respected and greatly beloved. On the approach of death his triumph Avas almost unequalled. The king of ter- rors was completely baffled and conquered. The dying dis- ciple of the Redeemer descanted most freely and copiously and Avith a kind of celestial and transporting eloquence on the grace and mercy of the Savior and on the scenes of the future and eternal state,—on the visions of that upper world, which he was about to enter,—and so commingled Avith the expression of his avell-anchored hopes and lofty anticipations the expression of his tender regard for those, Avho stood around his bed, and animating exhortations to the practice of holiness and the service of Christ,—closing, as he Avas skilled in all mu- sic, with such rapt hymnings to the praise of redeeming love, —that every beholder was constrained to say,—surely the gos- pel is true and there is poAver in religion. I have often heard this scene mentioned by christians as the most wonderful scene, they ever witnessed. Of this scene Dr. Smith was a witness, for the dying man was his patient as Avell as his com- panion and friend; and it struck him Avith astonishment. He did not ascribe it to nervous influence, to an inflamed fancy, to wild delusion ; for the sufferer, or rather the beatified mortal was a man of reason and argument, as well as of feeling. His words carried conviction to the mind as well as emotion to the heart. From this dark cloud of death the broad light- ning burst forth Avith a splendor, which, for the moment, left no trace of the darkness ; and the voice of God was a voice of power, before which every soul bowed in reverence and awe. These and other events may have exerted a beneficial ef- fect on the character of the eminent physician, whose depart- ure we lament. Such occurrences have indeed no power in themselves to renovate the worldly, unholy heart; but they are means, which God employs, and which he often blesses for the correction of erroneous views and the reformation of sinful practice. You will not be surprised, that I ascribe an unholy heart by nature to one, possessed of many amiable qualities and valuable endowments ; for such a heart, it is, I am persuaded, the doctrine of scripture, is the common inheritance of man. Nor can we doubt the fact, if we rely on the testimony of observation and experience. We know, that a man may be exemplary in morals, instinctively be- nevolent or kind in disposition, honorable in sentiment, 2-1 skilful, learned, and useful, Avhile in his heart there springs up no emotion of gratitude and loAre to the God of perfection and glory, the creator of his Avondrous frame and more won- derful mind, and the fountain of all his joys and hopes, nor to the crucified Son of God, the minister of the Father's mercy, the adorable Redeemer of sinners. Such a man, however respected and crowned with honors by the world, and however amiable in the intercourse of society, is yet, in the sight of God and of reason, unholy. Without the correc- tion of this native alienation from holiness by the truth and mercy, by the grace and Spirit of God, I can cherish no hope of the salvation of any one of the race of fallen Adam. But Avhen I consider the amazing love and the mighty power of the risen Redeemer; Avhen I advert to his readiness to re- ceive the penitent thief on the cross ; I do hope, that multi- tudes are saved, Avhose years of health and vigor were years of inconsideration and sin, but whose last days were days of serious thought, of penitent confession, and earnest prayer. It is not an idle curiosity, which makes us desirous of knowing what were the views and emotions of our friends in the near approach of that dread hour,which removes them from the earth to the unchanging destinies of eternity. Who is not shocked at the unwise and irrational levity of the philosopher Hume, who, as he was dying, could jest, agreeably to pagan story, concerning the pertinacity of Charon in forcing him into his boat, though reluctant to be called away from his his- torical labors ? Who does not pity the still greater philoso- pher Hobbes, who, as he too was dying, said, that he was a- bout to take a leap in the dark ? Who does not exult in be- holding the sublime faith and triumphant hope of the depar- ting Christian? Even among the most distinguished physicians of the present age there have been those, who after the perilous voyage of life have entered their haven with swelling sails and their streamers floating in the breeze. You are conver- sant with the writings of Bateman. He pursued his studies at Edinburgh the year after Dr. Smith visited that city, and he died in England in 1821. For many years he held a high rank in his profession. Besides his other Avritings, he wrote most of the medical articles in Rees' Cyclopedia. He was a gentleman of great genius and taste, as well as of deep 2 i learning. But unhappily duriug his anatomical and physi- ological studies he had imbibed the doctrine of materialism, and Avas sceptical concerning the truth and a stranger to the hopes of the gospel. Amidst all his intellectual efforts and useful professional toils he lived without God in the Avorld, Avholly negligent of public worship and of all the duties of religion. Even after a severe illness of four years' continu- ance and the threatened loss of sight he was still blind to the resplendent glories of the gospel. But at last came the day of God's mercy. At last he said—"All these sufferings are a just punishment for my long scepticism and neglect of reli- gion." Now he read the scriptures with intense earnestness and prayed Avith fervor ; and in the great doctrine of expi- ation for sin by the crucified Son of God he found the hope of forgiveness. For the remaining year of his earthly exis- tence he led a new and holy life, a life of enlarged and ac- tive benevolence as well as of piety, having been ' brought out of darkness into marvellous light.' He had laved the pursuits of literature ancf science ; and he gathered abun- dantly of their honors. He had loved the world, and he drank deeply of its amusements and gratifications. But all his past pleasures were now despicable in his eyes, compared Avith < the joy and peace in believing,' Avhich he tasted, and "one particle of which," he said, "ten thousand Avorlds Avould not tempt him to part with."—"The blessing of his conversion," he often said, "Avas never out of his mind day or night, and it was a theme of perpetual thanksgiving." As he went down to the grave, the strength and clearness of his intellect were unimpaired and the brightness of his hope undimmed. His animated conversation in the night preceding his death was almost wholly on the joys of heaven. His last words were—"What glory ! the angels are waiting for me ! Lord Jesus, receive my soul !" You are guided and enlightened by the learned Avritings of Good. He commenced the practice of his profession in London in 1793, having previously exercised it a few years; at Sudbury, and died Jan. 2, 1827, at the age of sixty three. In early life he was avowedly a materialist, universalist, and Socinian ; and in London he attended for fourteen years the principal Socinian chapel. But after hearing his minister preach a sermon, recommending the spirit of scepticism, he immediately addressed to him a letter, stating,that he could no 4 2G longer oountenance a system, repugnant to his heart and understanding, and that he Avas compelled to break oft' his connexion Avith the society, Avith which he had long associa- ted. Thus rescued from the ties, Avhich Avere hostile to his religious improvement, his study of the Scriptures and his attendance on the ministry of earnest, evangelical preachers gradually enlightened his mind, until at last he Avas estab- lished in the belief of the great principles of the gospel, and gave proofs of a heart renovated by the Spirit of God. Noav the atoning sacrifice of Christ, Avhich he formerly rejected, Avas the sole anchor of his hope ; and now he became, what he had not been before, a man of prayer.* The morning and evening incense, attended Avith the reading of scripture, went up from his family altar. He was a zealous supporter of the interests of the Church missionary society for the last seven or eight years of his life. In his last illness he deep- ly deplored his sins, saying, he was aware of the ' absolute necessity of relying on the merits of Jesus Christ.'—' I want more spirituality, more humility, I want to be humbled.'— ' I have had large opportunities given me, and I have not im- proved them, as I might : I have been led astray by the van- ity of human learning and the love of human applause.' He often repeated the text, ' Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, •In 1823 Dr. Good wrote the following form of prayer, which he purposed to use every morning, as he said, "so long as it may please God, that I shall continue in the exercise of mj' profession.—I should wish it to close the subsequent editions of my 'Study of Medicine.' " "O thou great bestower of health, strength, and comfort ! grant thy blessing upon the professional duties in which this day I may en- gage. Give me judgment to discern disease, and skill to treat it ; and crown with thy favor the means, that may be devised for re- covery ; for, with thine assistance, the humblest instrument may succeed, as, without it, the ablest must prove unavailing, "Save me from all sordid motives ; and endow me with a spirit of pity and liberality towards the poor, and of tenderness and sympa- thy towards all; that I may enter into the various feelings by which they are respectively tried ; may weep with those that weep, and rejoice with those that rejoice. "And sanctify thou their souls, as well as heal their bodies. Let faith and patience,and every christian virtue they are called upon to exercise, have their perfect work : so that in the gracious dealings of thy Spirit and ol thy providence, they may find in the end, whatever that end may be, that it has been good for them to have been afflicted. "Grant this, O Heavenly Father, for the love of that adorable Redeemer, who, while on earth, went about doing good, and now ever liveth to make intercession for us in heaven. Amen." 27 today, and forever.' About three hours before his death a friend repeated to him the words, ' Behold the Lamb of God:' this roused him, and with the energy of a dying believer he terminated the sentence, being his last Avords, ' which ta- KETH AAVAY THE SINS OF THE AVORLD !' I am happy to be able to say, that in the closing period of his life Dr. Smith seemed to place a high estimate on the truths and consolations of religion. There is reason to be- lieve, that his admonitory illness of the last summer was not Avithout a beneficial effect. His colleague, in his eulogy, has remarked—"with regard to subjects of this nature, it is belie- ved, that his last days Avere his best days." I will not attempt to describe the mighty rush of thoughts into the mind of the man, Avho, after a life of devotion to Avorldly pursuits, finds himself struck with a disease, Avhich he knows to be the fore- runner of death;—the dreary ruins of earthly happiness and hopes; the unstayed and accelerating descent to the grave ; the images of past monitory events, convictions, neglects, broken resolutions, withered aspirations for spiritual good; the scenes of the future, retributory state, the joys and the agonies of the tAVO divisions of the judged, and the immeas- urable depths of eternity; and the anxious present inquisition into one's character, hopes, and prospects. Happy are all they, who at such an hour are led to seek earnestly the favor of the Father of mercies.—Dr. Smith, in his last sickness, requested the counsel and the prayers of several ministers of the gospel, who at his bed side assisted him in his devotions and suppli- cations for mercy. And finally, Avhen one of his friends ask- ed him, whether in communicating the sad intelligence of his death to one of his sons,he might say, that 'he died in the faith and hopes of the gospel ?' he professed,that such was the fact, andAvished his friend thus to write. This dying declaration of the grey-headed and venerable Teacher of Medical Science, I could wish, might be heard by the great family of his Sons in Medicine, scattered over the different states of the Union, and might lead them to prize that glorious gospel, Avhich offers mercy to the penitent sinner, and which has 'brought life and immortality to light.' In conclusion, I ought not to neglect this opportunity of urging upon you the Avisdom of immediately receiving the truths and discharging the duties of our holy religion. The first and venerated Teacher of this School is not the only 2P Victim of death, of Avhom we should this day have a tendef recollection. Eight orten of his pupils also,—Avhohere listen- ed to his instructions, as you are listening to the instructions of his successors,—have seen the illusions of the earth vanish- ing from before their eyes and in the morning of life have been summoned into the world of spirits. Their earthly toils are over ; tind withered are all their earthly hopes. They have gone to the doom of interminable ages.—Do not these events speak to you of eternity and of the wisdom of preparing without delay for the scenes of the future ? Make then the Word of God your daily counsellor and your con- stant guide, for it has " truth, without any mixture of error, for its subject, and salvation for its end." It offers forgive- ness, peace, and hope to the guilty, the conscience-smitten, and despairing :—it has thrown a flood of light upon the dark valley of the shadow of death r—Avhile it foredooms to his wo the unreclaimed transgressor and contemner of the mercy of Jesus Christ, it Opens to the view of the penitent believer and truly holy man the regions of unfading bright- ness and beauty,—the immortal glories of the kingdom of heaven. APPENDIX. Dr. James Thacher, in his American Medical Biography, says, that the district of Maine, before it was separated from Massachusetts and formed into a new State in 1820, "possess- ed little claim to the merit of contributing to the improvement of medical science : a scattered settlement Over an extensive country affords no facilities of union and enterprise in scien- tific pursuits. There Avere, hoAvever, some individuals, Avho sustained the honor of the profession and Avere eminently useful in their day. Among these Dr. Nathaniel Coffin, the elder, and Nathaniel Coffin, M. D,of Portland, were for ma- ny years the leading characters in that district. Dr. Kins- man, of Portland, Dr. Jones, of North Yarmouth, and Dr. Benjamin Page, of Hallowell, Avere respectable and popular practitioners. Dr. Samuel Adams, of Bath, was for some time a surgeon in the American army ; he was a skilful phy- sician, and an amiable and virtuous man, and in after life re- ligion and piety were leading traits in his character. Dr. A. R. Mitchell, of North Yarmouth, Avas a man of great pop- ularity as a physician, as Avell as for his useful services in political life, and his practical religious A'irtues. Dr. Thom- as Rice, of Wiscasset, was much esteemed, and enjoyed ex- tensive practice." " The epidemic, termed spotted fever, made its appear- ance in 1810, and till 1816 prevailed at Hallowell and its vi- cinity Avith great severity. It fell to the lot of the pres- ent Dr. Benjamin Page of Hallowell to devote a large portion of his attention to the sick during the prevalence of this epi- demic; more than tAvo thousand cases fell under his obser- vation, and he is entitled to much honor and the gratitude of the public for his correct observation, his indefatigable in- dustry, and his very judicious mode of treatment, by which the disease was divested, in a great measure, of its maligni- ty and fatal tendency." The Medical Society of Maine was incorporated by act of the legislature March 8, 1821, having power to hold any real or personal estate to the value of ten thousand dollars. The annual meeting is held at Brunswick, on the day before Ihc public Commencement at BoAvdoin college. A semi-an- oO nual meeting is held at Portland on the Wednesday after the first Wednesday of the session of the legislature. The Cen- sors have authority to license candidates for the practice of physic and surgery ; and for the purpose of examining them they meet, together with the Lecturers in the Medical School of Maine, annually at Brunswick in the month of May. The first president of the society Avas Nathaniel Coffin M. D. of Portland, whose father had lived in the same town, then called Falmouth, from 1739 to 1766. He returned from London where he had pursued his medical studies, just be- fore the death of his father, and was well qualified to suc- ceed to his extensive practice. As a surgeon he was very skilful, and performed operations even at the age of eighty. He died, in the eighty third year of his age, Oct. 18, 1826, —the anniversary of the destruction of Portland by the Brit- ish;—an event which he witnessed fifty one years before.— Ariel Mann, M. D., president of the Medical society, died at Hallowell March 16, 1828, aged 50 years. He was very distinguished and skilful both as a physician and sur- geon, and was considered as deservedly at the head of the medical profession in Maine. He had also been for five or six years Judge of Probate for the county of Kennebec, the duties of which office he discharged to general satisfaction. For a considerable time his health had been very infirm, and he was apparently in a settled consumption; but his life was prolonged for years through his OAvn skill and by means of a rigid adherence to a certain regimen,—which he had prescri- bed to himself. As one of the censors of the Medical soci- ety he had attended, ever since the establishment of the School, its annual examination of candidates for the degree of Doctor in medicine, and was uniformly zealous for the promotion of his favorite science. In Feb. 1826 the legislature incorporated the members of the Faculty of Medicine of the Medical School together with the President and Censors of the Medical Society of Maine by the name of "the Medical School Hospital" with authority to hold real and personal estate, the income of which is not to exceed six thousand dollars. The Hospital is to be conducted for the benefit of Sick and Insane persons and is to be erected in Brunswick, so as to be convenient for the attendance of the pupils of the School. Neither the Medical Society nor the Hospital have as yet been endowed by the legislature ; but the same enlarged and liberal views, Avhich by establishing the School have so greatly advanced the interests of a most important science, will not be likely to withhold the aid, Avhich is requisite for rendering still more perfect the system of medical instruc- tion at Brunswick, and for alleviating the sufferings of the insane and of the sick poor. A building for the purpose, with a provision for indigent patients, who might expect always to find at the School a concentration of skill in the A\ art of healing, would promote the cause of humanity, and at the same time be advancing the great public objects of medi- cal science.—It is also extremely desirable, that the Medical Society should be furnished Avith a Library, whose benefits may be extended to most of the physicians of Maine, so that they may be continually increasing their scientific attain- ments and their poAver of doing good. The Medical schools of this country, Avith the time of their foun- dation, are as follows : 1. University of Pennsylvania, at Philadelphia .... 1765 2. College of Physicians and Surgeons of New York . . 1767 3. Medical School of Harvard college, at Boston .... 1782 4. N. Hampshire Med. Institution, at Dartmouth college 1797 5. College of Medicine of Maryland, at Baltimore . . . 1807 6. Medical Institution of Yale college .......1810 7. Coll. of Phys. and Sure;, of the western district of the state of New York .........1812 8. Medical College of Ohio, at Cincinnati......1818 9. Vermont Academy of Medicine, at Castleton .... 1818 10. Med. Sch. of Transyl university, at Lexington Ky. . 1818 11. Medical School of Maine, at Bowdoin college . . 1820 12. Medical School ofJJrown University.......1821 13. Med. Sch. of the University of Vermont, at Burlington 1822 14. Berkshire Med. Inst it. at Pittsfield, Ms......1822 15. Med. Coll. of South Carolina, at Charleston . . . • 1824 16. Med. School of Jefferson Coll., at Philadelphia . . . 1824 17. Med. Sch. of Columbia Coll. at Washington, D. C. . 18-24 18. Rutgers Medical School, city of New York .... 1826 19. Washington College, at Baltimore ...... 1827 Dr. Smith published a 'Practical Essay on Typhus Fever, 8vo. New York, 1S24.' He considers this disease as proceeding from a specific contagion, to which one is not subject a second time, and as having a definite course, which cannot be safely stayed by the ef- forts of medicine, He also wrote various valuable papers in the Philadelphia Monthly Journal, some of which have been reprinted in the French medical Journals, **■ f. <■ NATIONAL LIBRARY OF MEDICINE NLM DlDbflfl73 7 NLM010688737