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MEDICAL DEPARTMENT OF COLUMBIA COLLEGE. 
CLASS OF 1872. 
CHARLES RITSSELL DOANE. M. I).. 
(A MEMBER OF THE GRADUATING CLASS,) 
) '‘aledictoriati. 
’ Tis a base 
Abandonment of reason to resign 
Our right of thought. 
Byron's Childe Harold. ADDRESS 
Mr. President, Professors, Fellow Students, Ladies 
and Gentlemen: 
When Mazeppa was lashed to the wild 
horse of Tartary, and when that steed went 
careering onward, over the hills and through 
the valleys, in spite of the uncomfortableness 
of his position, Mr. Mazeppa undoubtedly felt 
relieved. While that celebrated charger on 
which his enemy had mounted him, thunder- 
ed onward, at a speed only equaled by that 
other celebrated charger — the black horse • 
that bore Sheridan from Winchester down— 
Mr. Mazeppa was no doubt engaged in quietly 
congratulating himself. For the disease with 
which he was afflicted, a ride on horse back, 
even a la hippodrome, is infinitely preferable 
to the more modern mode of treatment by 
pistoling on a staircase. 
Ladies and Gentlemen : The position of 
these young men, just tied to the steed of 
science, leaving out of consideration certainly 
the little matter of previous wickedness, 
seems to me wonderfully like that of the 
naughty Mazeppa. Like him they feel infi- 
ll * iv nvHevea at getting out of the tlv.t 
of the old gentleman, represented in this in- 
stance by the Faculty of the Medical Depart- 
ment of Columbia College ; like him they are 
to long for ease and quietude, while con- 
demned to ceaseless anxiety and watchfulness; 
like him they are to be deceived by ignifatui 
gleaming like home lamps, but luring only 
into swamps and fens ; like him having rid- 
den the poor beast out of confidence, out of 
vital force, and out of wind, they will eventu- 
ally fall by the roadside, and remain as addi- 
tional warnings to others who would fain 
occupy niches in the temple of physic. 
Whether in after years some few of these 
gentlemen may come back reinforced like 
Mazeppa. to rescue Alma Mater from the 
grasp of those by whom she is possessed, is a 
question which fickle fortune only can deter- 
mine. 
From time immemorial it has been the 
custom of graduating classes to assemble some 
time previous to occasions like this, and select 
from among their number, one to pronounce 
the “ Valedictory.” To say “good bye ” to 
the Faculty, to the class, to the old college 
halls. It is a melancholy privilege, this 
license to officiate at a ceremony half mar- 
riage, half funeral ; this nondescript of com- 
mencement and ending, of birth and dissolu- 
tion. There is something peculiarly mournful 
in parting, even with the hope of a speedy 
re-union. Around the edges of even the 
wedding ceremony, there is thrown a fringe 
of sadness. To the young people more directly 
interested all is serene, but way in the back- 
ground there are always a limited number of 
grandmothers ! and these are invariably found 
with their handkerchiefs to their eyes. It is 
the dread of temporary separation which gives 
a tinge of sadness to the happiest meetings, 
and causes a pall to flutter constantly above 
every joyous assembly of earth But these 
final, these life-long separations, they are the 
tomb-stones sculptured out and erected thank 
Heaven ! on the dark corners of but few out 
of the many festive boards. Through the 
past years we have all labored persistently 
and hard to bring about this parting-time, 
and yet, to me, there is much of sorrow at the 
severance of old associations, mingled with 
the joy of being free. From this night will 
commence to unravel that cord of sympathy 
which has bound us together man to man. 
But a brief interval, and the strands of which 
that cord was once composed will occupy 
their places beside Ihe other stranded friend- 
hips nf But a short time and the 
form of each old friend will be confused in the 
recollection of a new. And still those 
forgotten forms will be bowing nearer and 
nearer to the sod, still the feet which bear 
them proudly now will shuffle more and more 
distinctly as they pass on down the road. But 
how belittled is the bitterness of all external 
change, when contrasted with those senti- 
mental changes which lengthened separation 
always brings. 
These faces, which have become familiar 
and dear to each other, are to go out into the 
great cold avaricious world, and be seamed 
and furrowed by their little destinies of care ; 
the locks which now glisten above them will 
become grizz'ed, and some of them finally 
white, in the great bleaching-house of adver- 
sity ; their temples will grow corded with the 
blue veins of age, and their eyes get dim ; but 
never in after time, while the “wheel” re- 
mains unbroken “at the cistern,” and “the 
pitcher at the fountain,” never again while 
the “ silver cord ” remains unloosed, will 
they smile back as they smiled on the old 
Class of “Seventy-two.” Like in Longfel- 
low's “ Evangeline,” the paths of their pos- 
sessors may cross and intercross in after years, j 
but the faces and the hearts of twenty years 
from now, will be dull and cold in comparison 
with the brilliant faces and the warm hearts 
of to-day. 
On such an occasion, the thoughtful men 
before me ought to lie suffused in tears; and 
yet the spirit of the veritable “ Tapley” seems 
to have taken possession of every one of them. 
For three long years they have hacked at 
anatomy and the backs of the college benches ; 
they have written in their note books, and 
made epigrams on the college walls. For 
three whole winters they have been seated di- 
rectly under the ‘ practical” avalanche pour- 
ed upon them by that matchless expounder, 
to hose grand achievement it has been to convert mil- 
lions of torturing death-beds into couches of conva- 
lescent sleep. They have passed from hand to 
hand and lap to lap, those “beautiful speci- 
mens,” in decayed alcohol — specimens which, 
had he no greater claim to homage, would, 
long ere this, have stamped their possessor as 
the ‘‘king of hearts.”'1 For mcnthsand months 
together, they have pounded at Surgery, and 
compounded in Materia Medica; they have 
theorized in Physiology, and analyzed in 
Chemistry, and idealized in Obstetrics. They 
have spent no inconsiderable portion of their 
lives in pondering over the “ revelations of St. 
John ”2 and “ “ ‘4s of Thmnrd 
and the “ Gospel of Mark-ce.4 They have 
listened to the incomparable Metcalfe on 
phthysic, and to the incomparable McLane on 
physic They have eaten the savory potage of 
professional courtesy, and learned how the off- 
spring became ringed and streaked and speckled from 
Jacoby.5 They have known how swiftly 
and how pleasantly the Sands of college life 
may run, while studying with a favorite Pro- 
fessor, man's means of inward locomotion.6 
They have been baffled, like hosts of those 
who have gone before, in endeavoring to drape 
their minds with a peculiar class of wisdom, 
which, if it is only “ skin deep,” speaks vol- 
umes for the thickness of the skin.7 They 
have listened to the lyceum lectures on the 
“ constitution.” and gloried with the lecturer 
that not a jot of all his inspiration is ever 
“ borrowed stock.” 
Whatever college truths they may have missed, 
Three sterling facts all well-kept note-books show : 
The fact that Doctor Parker does not smoke ! 
The fact that Doctor Parker does not drink ' 
The fact that Doctor Parker does not chew Is 
With all respect for Mr. Bergh and his phi- 
lanthropy. they have been convinced that 
what was cruelty to the animal may be mer- 
cy to the man. They have gathered round 
the bounteous board of the im nortal Dalton, 
and. after the repast was ended, have lisen 
wondering, with the same old wonderment, which was the richest treat, to see him “ draw 
and quarter,” or only to see him draiv.9 
They have stood within the circle charmed by 
Detmold, and have pitied those who had to 
“wait outside."10 They have listened to 
reason’s rattle among the “ dry bones" of Sa- 
bine 11 They have striven, without a "beam" 
of light in their own eyes, to see the "motes" 
in the eyes of their fellow men. And as they 
blindly led the blind in only the "anterior 
chambers" of temples, which Agnew stalked 
clear through, they learned, at least, two les- 
sons well: 1st, that they would never know 
what Agnew knew ; 2d, that Agnew knew 
how much they did not know.12 And 
finally, after thefr daily labors have ended— 
ended in quizzings and grindings, which none 
but embryonic Doctors know, these gentle- 
men have had night-mares -night mares in 
which the theories of the philosophic Otis1 3 
have * set the world on fire]” and in which 
the fingers of the flame, as they stretched up- 
ward, have inflicted scientific scorchings, 
which none but he could heal. And then, 
like Bunyan they have wakened, but not to 
• ‘ find it all a dream. ’ ’ 
The individual who made the assertion 
that at. forty, a man was “ either a physician 
or a fool,” was not, perhaps, a fool himself 
exactly: but my mind has always been im- 
pressed with the idea that he must have been 
a homeopath ! No three score years and ten of 
every day experience, could give a tithe of 
the knowledge of disease, derived by us from 
these three years of College life. The testi- 
mony of those who have gone before <ls, that 
no forty years oi unaided study, combined 
with forty years of unaided practice, can 
build the trusty foundation of medical science 
built for us in this biief time by these dis- 
tinguished masters. To me it seems that 
their occupation, in its combination of work 
and thought, in its association of the ideal 
with the manual, resembles that of the sculp- 
tor ; and that now, after putting the crowning 
glories to their work, like him they have 
drawn back to gaze on a conception only 
partly realized. Here are the dreamings of 
their souls but faintly personified, and as the 
chisels which for months their hands have 
clung to, drop for an intervening period t-» 
their level with the tools their busy brains 
are doubtless planning new capitals for 
columns of a higher order—columns on which 
the "drooping leaves” shall be upheld by the 
"peaceful lillies” underneath — columns on 
which the ‘ pomegranateof plenty” shall nestle 
among the meshes of unity, hinting broad 
hints of sweet encouiagement for the baby 
making future. 
Gentlemen of the Faculty : Here stands in 1 
its modest proportion, your labored thought 1 
not yet expanded into the full magnificence 1 
f its manhood prime. But, in after years, 
when the members of which this idol is com- ' 
posed come to meet you—come with their 
brows covered with the lines which you alone ; 
have taught them how to trace—may they 
bear with them trophies teeming with gifts j 
of recompense, more rich in value than the i 
wealth of India,—your pearls of thought ! 
your brilliant pearls brought back to you. ] 
Students : As a class, you look for the last 1 
time upon your benefactors:—the kindly- i 
patient and indulgent mentors who have led i 
you thus far along your chosen road. Hence- 
forth, the penalty of your choice of avoca- i 
tion is, that you must climb the hill alone! i 
We—are—Doctors ! The egg of expectation 
on which we have set so fondly and so long, 
has at length hatched out for us a brood of 
“ sheep-skins ” A few more hours and the 
fledglings, of which this new brood is com- 
posed, will have commenced, like all previ- 
ous fledglings, efforts to plume themselves- 
and will begin with the same old covetous- 
ness to "peep for meal /” To-morrow there will 
be ‘‘No birds in last year’s nest! ’ As the 
offspring of our time honored Alma Mater 
have done for over half a century, we shall 
leave her stuffed with practical anatomy, and 
the knowledge of bitter-tasting pills and 
powders, which we shall doubtless never see 
the operation of. In the immediate future— 
so immediate that it will almost seem to 
laugh in the very face of our present splendid 
stock of ASsculapian lore—a few stained knives 
and from twenty to thirty tried prescriptions, 
will perhaps comprise, as it comprises among 
the “old stagers" everywhere, our whole rou- 
tine. We shall all of us don spectacles at 
once—spectacles over the upper rims of which 
we can fortunately look, whenever occasion 
requires that we should see. We shall learn 
to exercise the zygomalicae and the levatores 
labii superioris alceque nasi, those peculiarly ex- 
pressive muscles of the face which, it seems, 
to be a little over half of the ambition of each 
Doctor to develop fully. And. eventually 
we shall, perhaps, even get those characteris- 
tic kinks about the “glottis’ and the “epiglottis,” 
—those gutturals which only come with age 
and great experience and which are supposed 
to be, among the little airs of our profession, 
the very hardest to attain. 
Professors : You look to-night for the last 
time upon the graduating class of " Seventy- 
two”! Other classes will come and go, as 
this has come and gone! Other affections 
will weave their meshes round your hearts! i 
But from this night one golden string will ; 
cease to vibrate. Another key of the living S 
harp, on which you play so marvelously well, 
has lost its tone. Touched by your skillful 
fingers, the old instrument will continue to 
yield the same rich melody as heretofore. 
These silent cords, added at each commence- 
ment-time, may even help to echo sweeter 
and sweeter future strains. But only in the 
misty distance, when your fingers shall for- 
get their cunning, and your ears be deaf to 
the hum of toil, then only will these stilled 
strings wake up once more. Then will the 
music of their dying cadence rise again and 
be wafted to you, for the music of the past is 
always potent, when the mind is open only to 
the memory of sound. Gentlemen, it would 
be folly for one weak voice to essay to utter 
the thanks, and the farewell wishes, which 
are bubbling up in all these hundred hearts. 
Happily every one of their possessors will 
have the opportunity of seizing you severally 
by the hands, and uttering the parting word. 
It is the duty of my office to only formally say 
Farewell ! 
(I) Dr. Clark, Professor of Practice, is the author 
of the opium treatment for peritonitis. He has the 
largest collection of abnormal hearts in the country. 
(•2) Dr. St. John, Professor of Chemistry, is noted 
for his diligence in elucidating his branch. 
(3) Prof. Thomas never gives in his adhesion to 
any theory which he has not first sifted. 
(4) Prof. Markoe has the faculty of carrying con- 
viction with every word he utters. 
(5) Dr. Jacoby is Professor of Diseases of Children. 
(6) Prof. Sands is a very rapid lecturer, and is 
held in high esteem for his affability. 
(7) Dr. Draper is Professor of Diseases of the 
Skin-a hard branch for students. 
(S) Prof. Parker always endeavors to reclaim pa- 
tients from the vices specified. His lectures are 
rich as Gough’s. 
(9) Prof. Dalton, unsurpassed as a physiologist, is 
also an excellent artist, and illustrates his lectures 
with great skill. 
(10) A trite expression, which this Professor always 
uses to patients whose imagination he judges to be 
the seat of the disease. 
(II) Prof. Sabine is celebrated for his great profi- 
ciency in osteology. 
(12) Dr. Agnew is Professor of Diseases of the Eye 
—a difficult branch for students. 
(13) Prof. Otis has been lately advancing some new 
theories. 
{Glass rises.)