THE COUNTRY DOCTOR: THE ANNUAL ADDRESS DELIVERED BEFORE The Connecticut Medical Society, AT HARTFORD, MAY 24, 1883. BY W. G. BROWNSON, A. M., M. D., OF New Canaan, Reprint from the New England Medical Monthly, GOULD & STILES, PRINTERS, Bridgeport, Conn. THE COUNTRY DOCTOR: THE ANNUAL ADDRESS DELIVERED BEFORE The Connecticut Medical Society, AT HARTFORD, MAY 24, 1883. BY W. G. BROWNSON, A. M., M. D., • OF New Canaan, Gonn. Reprint from the New England Medical Monthly. GOULD & STILES, PRINTERS, Bridgeport, Conn. TIIE ANNUAL ADDRESS DELIVERED BE- FORE THE CONNECTICUT MEDICAL SO- CIETY AT HARTFORD, CT., MAY 24tll, 1883, BY W. G. BROWNSON, A. M., M. D., OF NEW CANAAN, CONN. IAELLOWS and Brethren of our Com- - monwealth, The trusted guardians of the lives and health Of half a million of our nohle race, Accept the cordial greeting which the place And the occasion bid us here extend, Where noble aims and nobler spirits blend. How fitting to our chosen mission, here To meet for counsel each recurring year; To garner up for use the ripened fruit Of past experience ; to wisely suit The lich and varied lessons of the past To modern methods, multiform and vast. How suited to the needs of men of care To slip the burdens which they daily bear ; To deftly smooth a furrow from the brow; Refresh each heart, renew each sacred vow; To stay the whitening of a single hair On heads too early silvered o’er bv care; THE COUNTRY DOCTOR. 4 To mirror back the smile we here extend, And cross the palm with many a trusted friend. By virtue of the office which I bear, In the behalf of those whose trusts I share, A hearty welcome let me here extend To every Fellow, Delegate and Friend. And now what shall I sav,—what can I say Suited to the occasion and the day ? Among my auditors are hoary men Already past tlieir three score years and ten, Who long have honored their respective spheres; Hiper in wisdom than in gathered years. College professors grace our festal board, Whose brains and libraries are amply stored; The learned critics who unravel threads That sorely puzzle many anxious heads,— Our happy specialists with scarce a flaw, Experts in counsel and in courts of law ; All these, whose rare attainments justly claim Our grateful recognition of their fame, Need not our praise; their names and deeds command Profound respect throughout our native land. 5 Another class I see, but few are here, Though adding to our numbers year by year, Attentive listeners while others teach, Whose mission is to practice not to preach, The privates in our noble army band,— The country doctors scattered through the land, Who bear the knapsack, catch the fiercest fire; For them I speak,—the rest need not re- tire. Fresh from the college halls our hero comes To enter on his work in rural homes. His recent past seems like a fitful dream ; The weeks of rigid application teem With memories no future can efface, No words express, no pencil fitly trace. The chambers of his mem’ry have been pressed For lodgement of the knowledge he pos- sessed ; Knowledge of varied kind, diffuse, ab- stract, From fine spun theory to settled fact, Chemical formulas, hygienic laws, The limits of disease, its hidden cause, Medical jurisprudence, stale and dry 6 As skeletons of bare anatomy, The college quiz and lectures by the score Embodied in a dozen books or more,— All these, by specious cramming, he must gain And reproduce, liis parchment to obtain. The ordeal of examination past, “Accepted” greets his weary eyes at last; Little he cares that purse is empty now, A glow of perfect joy rests on his brow. Rejoice with him who finds a blissful day To ease the burden of life’s devious way ; A ray of light and hope to gild the road And pierce the veil that shrouds the last abode. Our young M. D. decides to settle down For a few years in a small country town, Hoping, bv patient toil, ere long to gain The richer field to which his hopes attain. You who have walked the road he enters here With careful tread, alternate hope and fear, Each step observed by many eager eyes That note too soon his frequent fallacies, You who have known in other days with me How blessed was the woid of sympathy, 7 Have known and felt when weary and distressed The need of hope, encouragement and rest,— Need but the mirror,—not the photograph, To catch at once the outline of the path. The months pass on and gather into years ; With each new day some new demand ap- pears ; Demands for knowledge he has not been taught, Nor read in books, nor gleaned from mod- ern thought. As in the countless millions of the earth, From present time back to creation’s birth, No two are found alike in every part, In form and feature, gifts of mind and heart, So in our ills, the skillful watcher finds As wide divergence as in forms or minds; In chronic ones he seeks to know the cause, And finds it hidden deep in nature’s laws; Each chapter of life’s history must be Consulted ere he finds the remedy, Mixed and administered with studied pains, As brilliant Opie mixed his paints—with brains. 8 When we consider all the slender strings From which the melody or discord springs, When life’s frail harp is touched by un- seen hands,— How shall we wisely answer the demands ; Touch the right chord, proffer the needed boon, And all the harmonies of life attune ? The chains of circumstance, with fetters bind Too oft the best endeavors of the mind. We seek a remedy for human ill, Where neither pharmacist’s nor doctor’s skill Finds the elixir that can stay the drain Of wasted energy of nerve and brain. Unfoitunate surroundings it may be, Or some harsh discord in the family, Diseased inheritance that poisons life And fills its days with bitterness and strife,— Or, worse than all, what hundreds of ns see In many homes—a grinding poverty ; Mothers of babes anaemic, underfed And over-worked to gain their scanty bread;— What wonder if v\e often fail to please Ourselves, or bring to others strength and ease; 9 What wonder if wo envy our compeers, Whose city practice through a score of years Leaves them the care of but the favored few, With ample means, and readiness to do The will of the attendant when expressed, Either for needed change or needed rest. Some healing waters flow in distant lands,— To test their sovereign virtues, he demands An extra nurse, a trip across the sea, A well filled purse, congenial company, A cottage by the sea, or mountain air, Release from labor and relief from care. How wide the contrasts in our earthly lot,— How brief the pilgrimage, how soon forgot. The lessons of experience, as taught In country practice, oft are dearly bought. The modest worker in a sterile field, Needing the scanty harvest it may yield, Sometimes from doubt, sometimes from anxious fear, Wishes an able counsellor were near. An only child, within whose tender life Center the fondest hopes of husband, wife And many friends, seems on the verge of death ;— 10 Convulsed with pain; with fitful, rapid breath, Clenched hands, eyes sunken, nostrils stretching wide,— lie scarce can count the pulse’s hasty stride,— He looks at his thermometer amazed, Its column to a frightful figure raised ;— Ah, you and I have felt his anxious fear, And wished some able counsellor were near To aid in such extremity, or bear Of such responsibility a share. No time to lose, he summons to his aid His nearest rival; time is quickly made, And, Jehu like, with foaming steed he drives, And at the moment specified arrives. In manner brusk, pompous in air and style, He greets his brother with the blandest smile, With new found friends shakes hands with relish keen, Happy to see them, happier to be seen. His conversation he directs to these, With studied effort to attract and please; Tells of an anxious case he had last night, Which by his skill is coming out all right; 11 Details his treatment in a learned way, Bold and heroic as we sometimes say; Consults his watch, and softly names the time When he must see a case with Doctor Prime; A city lady, wealthy and refined, Attractive both in person and in mind. His fine impressions made, he condescends To interview the doctor and the friends; And, ere he sees the case, states his belief That he can soon suggest a prompt relief. He quickly scans the case, and feigns to see At once the lesion and the remedy ; Tells of a dozen cases he has had Within a year with symptoms quite as bad. And thus this farce of consultation ends ; What further he discloses to the friends We ne’er shall know; but somehow it transpires, He gets the case,—his brother soon re- tires. The quiet meditations of our friend Upon this strange proceeding and its end, Are like the winds across the dreary plain ; Now harsh and chill, now soft and mild again. 12 He feels that rank injustice has been done; He asked for bread, he has received a stone ; He fain would hurl it back, and promptly say If called to counsel at some future day, This wily brother he would sooner see In everlasting infelicity^. His purse and reputation feel the strain, His honest heart and character remain. With firm resolve to do as best he may The arduous duties of each coming day, He learns to wait; assured that in the end He is not poor whose conscience is his friend. Turn, now, and for a moment, let us trace In happier mood a second anxious case. Our modest friend, who does not know it all, Again needs counsel; and within his call, Retiring for a time for calm repose, Is one of whose exalted rank he knows. He thinks an operation must be done;— He calls upon his friend,—the kindly tone Of cordial welcome which the good man gives, In part his keen solicitude relieves. Together to the bedside they repair; Together scan the case with patient care; 13 Together then for conference they retire As friend with friend, one aim and one desire. To save the case from an untimely end The surgeon’s knife its services must lend, And, all arranged, our veteran takes his place Simply as an assistant in the case. To wield the knife he modestly declines; To aid his younger brother he designs ;— His. very presence nerves the timorous hand To steady work and ready self command. With warm congratulations he proceeds; A hint and a suggestion as he needs In undertone, so guide, he scarcely knows That to his blade the riper judgment goes. Relief obtained, success assured, they share The honored garlands which the victors wear; Rejoicing friends their gratitude express In other ways than simple thankfulness; Softly aside our learned counsel pays His younger friend the tribute of his praise,— Asks him to call and question if need be, And slips into his hand his handsome fee. If there be happiness for mortals here, 14 A sweet symposium where care and fear May not intrude, our brother now can feel A heaven,—where thieves do not break through nor steal. And thus alternate light and shadow fall Across the checkered pathway of us all. Our lives are like the volumes on our shelves; Their style and binding show our outer selves; The gilt or plainer dress our rank or birth ; Still but the printed page can give them worth. How may we see ourselves, who back- ward turn The pages of our life-book, and discern The country doctor of our boyhood days,— With foes and friends to censure or to praise. In saddle or in sulky brown and grim, The storm and darkness were alike to him,— Through weary miles his keen anxiety And faithful horse, his only company ; 11 is saddle-bags and dusty garb might tell Each aged sire and school-boy knew him well, As through the window or the open door 15 They watched his corning at the appointed hour. When coveted success had eased his brain, lie oft could feel the force of the refrain, “ Three faces wears the doctor; when first sought An angel’s; and a God’s, the cure half wrought, But when, the cure complete, he seeks his fee, The devil is less terrible than he.” ’Twas his to know betimes when he had done Most faithful service, he had scarce begun Rejoicing, ere the shafts of malice dread, Like hailstones fell on his defenceless head. Each day he passed some who from jeal- ousy, Malice or spite would do him injury : Each day he stood beside some prostrate form, Whose outstretched hand and trusting look gave warm And kindly welcome, while he sought to show The brighter side and hide the threatened woe. ’Twas his to know the rapture of success ; 16 ’Twas liis to feel the pangs of bitterness, When, baffled, he must stand with bated breath, Dumb and confounded, face to face with death. We take their places ; and survey with pride The well earned laurels they have laid aside. If their facilities were less than ours, We gain advantage, not by added powers For better service, but by nobler deeds,— M ore self devotion to our fellows’ needs. Who does his best within his humble field Has gathered honors, which he need not yield To man or angel ; faithful in few things, He wears the crown which faithful service brings. None wears another’s armor, each his own ; Ours will be measured when our work is done. The prince of Epics from his classic vale Beguiles the student with a pleasing tale. With festive games the populace to please, In memory of his father Anchises, iEneas raises with his mighty hand A lofty mast, round which the people stand ; n And on its top, lield by a slender string. There sits a timorous dove with folded wing. lie now invites the archers standing by To open contest for the mastery : Four heed the invitation, and prepare The plaudits and the offered gifts to share. Then from the well drawn bow an arrow flies As lightning cleaves its pathway through the skies; The quivering mast and flapping wings proclaim The skilled precision of the arclier’s aim ; Beneath the captive’s feet, still pinioned fast, The arrowhead lies buried in the mast. Then ardent Mnestheus next, aiming on high, Directs alike, his arrow and his eye ; llis arrow cuts the cord,—the captive flees Toward the dark clouds, high on the southern breeze. Quickly Eurytion holds his ready bow, Calls his lost brother to attest his vow, Now spied the dove, joyful in azure vault, II is whizzing arrow makes the last assault; Transfixed, she leaves her life within the sky, 18 Descending1 ’raid the shouts of victory, Down, down to earth, now pinioned fast and warm The fatal arrow and the lifeless form. But one remains,—the aged archer stands Viewing the prizes earned by other hands. All seems accomplished ; yet Acestes next His arrow toward the heavens straight- way directs ;— It speeds its way athwart the liquid clouds, When, lo! a trail of fire its path enshrouds; On blazing wings it spans the arch on high Like shooting stars unfastened from the sky; Till quite consumed before their wonder- ing eyes, Into the subtle air, it vanishes. Sicilians and Trojans dumb-struck stand, While brave Aeneas issues his command : u The Gods, 0 Father, by this omen rare Design that you the diadem shall wear; While others nobly earned and shall re- ceive The prizes which with gratitude we give, Take to thyself as victor over all, The laurel wreath and famed Anchises’ bowl.” 19 All victors, yet the multitude proclaim “ The prize is "his whose arrow caught the flame •” With one accord to him the prize they yield, Who bore it from the well contested field. As then, so now, and through all coming time ; Each grand achievement touches the sub- lime ; Within each field of learned labor lies, For all who will contest, a fitting prize ; The higher flight demands the higher aim,— ’Tis only these that catch the heavenly flame. Aiming and striving thus, still aiming high, Till backward we behold the radiant sky, Still onward, may we reach the golden way, The brighter light of an eternal day.