\J         ADDRESS,  /
DELIVERED BEFORE THE
GRADUATING  CLASS,
MEDICAL DEPARTMENT
UNIVERSITY OF VERMONT,
JUNE 4, 1856,
(
CALVIN IPEA.SE,
PRESIDENT OF THE UNIVEltilTY.


   BURLINGTON:
FREE PRESS PRINT.
      1856. 
    "Therefore, here is  the  deficience  which I  find,
that physicians have not,  partly out of their own prac-
tice, partly out of the probations reported in books, and
partly out  of the traditions of empirics, set down and
delivered over  certain experimental medicines for the
cure of particular  diseases,  besides their own conjec-
tural and magistral descriptions.  For as they were the
men of the best composition in the state of Rome, which
either being consuls inclined to the people, or being tri-
bunes inclined to the  Senate ; so in the  matter we now
handle, they be the  best physicians, which being learned
incline to the traditions of experience, or being empir-
ics incline to the methods of learning."
                 Advancement of Learning, B. I. 
                       Burlington, June 5, 1856.
President Pease :
  Sir—At a meeting of the graduating  class  of  the
medical department U. V. M., held after the exercises
last evening, the undersigned was appointed a commit-
tee  to  request of you a copy of your  very excellent
address,  delivered on that  occasion, for publication.
We should feel under grateful obligations if you should
respond favorably to this request.
          In behalf of the class, yours very truly,
                       CHAS.  F. TAYLOR, M. D.
            University of Vermont, June 10, 1856.
Chas. F. Taylor, M. D.:
  Dear Sir—Your note of June 5th was received in
due  season, but a crowd of cares and duties prevented
my answering it at the time.  Permit me now to thank
the gentlemen of the graduating class of the medical
department of the University, for their kind reception
of my address before them at the time of their gradua-
tion.  In  compliance with their  request I  place  the
manuscript at your disposal.
                            Your obedient serv't,
                                       C. PEASE. 
 
ADDRESS.
   Gentlemen:—By the ceremonies of
this occasion you pass from the sphere
of ordinary life  into  the ranks of a
learned  profession.   The  event is one
of lasting interest to you, and of vital
importance to community — interesting
to you,  because your subsistence, your
usefulness and your reputation are in-
timately connected with your profes-
sional character — important to  com-
munity, because  the dearest earthly
interests of  many  persons  are hence-
forth to be  entrusted to your intelli-
gence,  fidelity  and skill.  I refer, of
course,  to  the interests of life  and
health.   It is, therefore, with no ordi-
nary emotion that I congratulate  you, 
6
ADDRESS.
 Gentlemen, on your arrival  at this in-
 teresting  and important point in your
 lives and studies, and  welcome  you
 into the  ranks  of professional life,
 which, I trust, it will be your ambition
 and earnest purpose to advance  and
 adorn.
    The occasion renders it proper, and
 it is perhaps expected,  that I  should
 address you  briefly with reference to
 the new sphere of duties upon  which
 you are about to enter.   I shall glance,
 therefore,  in a  cursory manner,  at
 some things, which, if you properly
 regard them, will  enable you to  ad-
vance and adorn  your profession;  and
the  disregard  of  which will  result,
sooner or  later, in disaster and dis-
grace.
    I.  In the first place I  would re- 
ADDRESS.
t
mind you that the profession you have
chosen is called, and is, a learned pro-
fession.  It becomes you, Gentlemen,
to illustrate this fact, and thus justify
the designation.   You  should make it
your business to become learned men in
your  profession.  You  have  already
gone through with the ordinary course
of preparatory reading ; you have  at-
tended upon the usual course of formal
lectures, whereby you are in a measure
prepared  to  study  and observe  for
yourselves, and  are furnished with  the
methods  and the means which are in-
tended  to enable  you, on  good and
substantial  grounds, to confirm,   or
modify, or reject, the formal instruc-
tions you have  received.  The neces-
sary light has  been furnished;   the
road is before you, and  directions have 
8
ADDRESS.
been given you to facilitate and secure
your progress in it.   It  has not  yet
been trodden by  you.  That remains
to be done.
    Now, for the successful prosecution
of your profession, you must have  two
kinds of knowledge.   The one kind is
that which,  in  its  complete form, is
called  science ;  the perfection  of  the
other is  skill.   In  your  profession,
Gentlemen, both these kinds of knowl-
edge are,  to a great extent,  to be  de-
rived from observation and experience.
There is a general knowledge of princi-
ples which may be  best  derived from
books.   But the elements and data of
that knowledge which  is  to  become
practical  science in your  daily studies
and  practice, can be gained  only by
personal inspection.  If, therefore,  you 
ADDRESS.
9
consider that while this  is true, still
all  your observation and experience,
unless  they  rest  on a basis of solid
science, and  are  guided  by accurate
reasoning,  and are  weighed  by  the
most  careful reflection, are  only em-
piricism— are sheer  quackery—you
will be prepared to appreciate the re-
mark that you must be both students
and observers : you must  think as well
as act,  and in order to act.   You must
act also, both to test the validity and
accuracy  of  your  thinking,  and  in
order  to  have  something  definite  to
think about.
    But what sort of a man  is he who
is able to comply with these  conditions
of true success ?   To answer the  ques-
tion in one word, he is the  cultivated
man — the man who has the control of 
10
ADDRESS.
his faculties, in their fullest and fairest
harmony.   You should seek therefore,
Gentlemen, for  true  culture ;  you
should discipline  your minds;  you
should improve and train your powers
not merely in the studies immediately
connected  with your   profession, but
also  by wide  and choice and careful
reading.    There is need  of this  in
order that your faculties may be capa-
ble of nice  and delicate working.   It
is the nature of literary culture  to re-
fine  the mind ;  to  make it clear and
pure.   And  there is  no   profession
which so imperatively demands the ex-
ercise  of a clear,  sagacious and deli-
cate power of thought  as the medical
profession.  You need, therefore, you
must  have  a  good  literary culture.
You should form your tastes to literary 
ADDRESS.
11
pursuits.  You should find in them, as
Cicero did,  your habitual recreation,
and your repose.   For such recreation
and repose,  are reinvigoration  and re-
freshment also.  Such pursuits, there-
fore, once begun, by you, should never
end until you have reached the  ter-
mination of your professional   labors.
  You need also the power of sound and
solid reasoning.   The  physician, more
than any other  man,  has occasion to
reason in this way every day  of his
life.   The health and  often the life of
his patient depends on it.   Why !  con-
sider the great variety of condition and
temperament amongst men ; think of
the changes constantly going on in the
physical condition of the same individ-
ual ; the ever varying type of  disease
according to the season, or climate, or 
12
ADDRESS.
habits of the individual and of society.
These are  things  which cannot be, to
any  great  extent, except  in  the most
general way, prepared for before hand.
The  thinking must be mainly done at
the time.   There  is required  an  ori-
ginal diagnosis in almost  every sepa-
rate   instance.   To  do  this  requires
great resources  and the most perfect
training.   And  when men put  their
lives into your hands,  they expect you
to have  such; they  presume  that you
have  an actual  intellectual ability,  in
an  important sense,  to take care  of
their lives.   If  all  this is justly  re-
quired  of  a physician, he   certainly
ought to be the wisest man  in communi-
ty ;  he  ought to be able to instruct us
in the things which most nearly  and
urgently concern us ; and it is assumed 
ADDRESS.
13
that he  is able, and therefore  he  is
always called the Doctor ; that is,  the
Teacher.   There  are  other  kinds  of
Doctors  in  learned circles ; but  there
is no  other  class who are universally
addressed  by  that  appellation.   In
other relations it is mostly complimen-
tary, but in the case of the physician
it clings to him as closely as the name
of  his baptism.    The physician  is
always called  :   the   Doctor ;   the
Teacher !   This fact is significant, and
suggests as pointedly as  anything can,
what you ought to make yourselves by
study and discipline.   It suggests also
a caution and a warning.
   The caution is that  you do not too
readily presume that  you  are  suffi-
ciently skilled in your profession, be-
cause  society is disposed to think so. 
14
ADDRESS.
Be not content with the name ;  but be
diligent to merit it and justify it, by
acquainting yourselves with your busi-
ness in the broadest and most thorough
manner possible.   You can never know
enough.   I should have  little  confi-
dence in the man, young or old,  who
had laid aside his studies and his books
and  was content with what he  had al-
ready acquired.   That is not the habit
of the men who have gained a valuable
reputation in your profession, or in any
other.   When a man ceases to learn,
he  ought to  cease to live ; this world
is no longer any place  for liim.   The
warning is, that unless you do become,
in a sense, masters of your profession,
you will meet, in the  end, with disaster
and disgrace. The physician from whom
the  community  is compelled by expe- 
ADDRESS.
15
rience  to withdraw  its confidence is a
most   forlorn  and   desolate  object,
whether he be an ignoramus or a quack.
   In the case of the man who is sus-
pected of quackish tendencies, the in-
dignation  which is  felt towards him
after his detection is in exact propor-
tion to  the  confidence reposed in him
before.   He may,  indeed, still  enjoy
for a while, a bar-room popularity, but
to all true intents and purposes he is a
ruined  man.  I  mention  this  as a
warning, because in the  case of  the
physician, there is a peculiarly strong
temptation to rely on such  a superficial
popularity ;—I say, strong, because at
the very start, there is a confidence re-
posed in him,  such  as  no other man
enjoys ;  interests are committed to him
on a mere presumption, before  he has 
16
ADDRESS.
had much opportunity to show himself
worthy of such confidence, because he
is supposed  to  know7—and men gene-
rally are known not to know.   Now if
he is a weak man, or an  unprincipled
man or a lazy man, which amounts to
the same thing, he will be in danger of
resting satisfied with this, trusting to
luck and the helpless credulity of so-
ciety, rather than to any science and
skill which should support and justify
such confidence.  How often do you see
this exemplified!
  And  not  only  is  the  temptation
strong, the mischief of such a course is
immense.  You may employ   an un-
faithful or an incompetent law7yer and
lose your cause and your money.   But
industry may regain the one,  and the
other may  be  committed  to  better 
ADDRESS.
17
hands another time.  In the religious
teacher, disastrous  and dangerous as
false opinions and  erroneous  instruc-
tions may be, the  matter  is still left
open for re-examination ;  and  the re-
sults of  error are often their own cor-
rective : and  reason and reflection are
not  put  asleep  by  a false  doctrine.
But it is otherwise  in the  practice of
medicine ;  a wrong prescription  may
ruin the health for life or may destroy
life  itself;  and  there is no remedy.
The mistake is a fatal one.   The  phy-
sician should  always  cherish a lively
feeling of this fact, and should bring to
bear  in  every case which  he  has to
handle, all the  industry,  knowledge,
fidelity and skill which he can  com-
mand.
  II. My next remark is that the  phy-
                  8 
18
ADDRESS.
sician should be a man of high moral
character.  He should be eminently a
conscientious man ;  alive to every con-
sideration  of  duty;   more  solicitous
about his own deliberate self-approval
and the true interests of his profession
than the ignorant applause of all man-
kind.  Such a man will  let no  oppor-
tunity slip of augmenting his knowl-
edge ; of improving his skill;  and of
extending  and giving value to his ob-
servation and experience.   Such a man,
too,  will be scrupulously careful as to
his own  personal habits.  His obliga-
tion to avoid all low and sensual indi-
gencies  is twofold.   I  do not speak
now of the obligation he is under as a
man ; of the duty  which he, like every
body else, owes  to himself, to admit
nothing  in his own conduct and habits 
ADDRESS.
19
which is self-degrading and corrupting
in its influence.  But I speak  of the
duty he owes to his patients and to his
profession.
   1.  Immoral  habits   first  blunt
the  finer  and  more  generous  sen-
sibilities of  the  mind.  They tend to
brutalize a man  ; and just in so far as
they do this, to make him indifferent
to the feelings,  the interests and the
claims of others.  He ceases,  there-
fore,  of  course,  to be a conscientious
man.   He  cannot be safely  trusted
anywhere,  and least of all in circum-
stances of the utmost magnitude, deli-
cacy  and importance,  such as  are oc-
curring in the  practice of a physician
continually.  A  physician under the
control of low  passions and appetites,
and  therefore  with a blunted  moral 
20
ADDRESS.
sense, is more anxiously to be shunned
than  the plague.  He  is  capable  of
doing more harm,  although  with no
direct  intention of doing  any at all,
than all the diseases he is expected to
remedy or relieve put  together ;—and
that merely from stupidity, indifference
and negligence.  The  thing  which it
belongs peculiarly  to  him  to do, he
fails to do.  He is indifferent  to the
thing  intrusted  especially to him, and
which  he was  especially expected  to
care for!  In this  way there may be
abundance  of mal-practice, for  which
not even the melancholy remedy of the
law is provided.
  2. But immoral  and sensual  indul-
gences not  only  blunt the moral sense,
they also paralyze the  vigor of the in-
tellectual powers.  The result is, that 
ADDRESS.
21
the man not only fails to care for  his
duties,  but he  has  rendered  himself
unable  to  discharge  them  properly,
even  if he  did  care  for them.  The
faculty  of keen  discrimination is gone.
The  power of  exact  and  thorough
reasoning fails  ;  and the  mind  can
only  run  in the old rut of habit.  If
he  has  been  furnished in  the outset
with  a  tolerable set  of  prescriptions
and a general knowledge of symptoms,
he  will, perhaps, in many  cases,  do
but little harm.  But a homoeopathic
book  and box is just as good as he, and
usually  much better.  The only spot
where the  judgment and  skill of the
physician  are  really needed at all—
the case where  the  "book and box"
are useless—he is no better.
  Now, if any  man on earth needs a 
22
ADDRESS.
clear head, the most perfect control of
his thoughts, and a power of delicate and
subtle  discrimination, that man is  the
physician.  How vast, how varied, how
delicate  the  sphere of his investiga-
tions ;—the whole subject of structure,
organic action  and all the phenomena
and functions of life, both in their nor-
mal  and abnormal  working ;  and  all
the minute  and  complicated agencies
by which these are to be influenced and
controlled, come within his sphere.   He
who has the best knowledge of these
things  may well be regarded as the
wisest of men, capable  to communicate
the most important  knowledge ; he is
most  emphatically   the  Doctor.  But
there is probably no subject  so difficult
to understand  in a controlling way.
That  knowledge of  it  which  gives 
ADDRESS.
23
power  over it is the profoundest kind
of  scientific   knowledge.  To  under-
stand and define the powers and func-
tions  of the  human system ;  to know
how to control and correct them when
their  action  is diseased,  requires the
most remarkable and  rare combination
of powers ;—a quick and accurate eye ;
a profound and penetrating mind ;  an
acute and steady  logical faculty ;  a
great power of concentration and self-
control, and great rapidity of combina-
tion and  comparison.   And all these
rare talents should respond with steady
and instant obedience to a tender con-
science and a delicate moral sense.
   And  the combined  experience and
research of the whole' faculty of medi-
cine is not a head or a hand too much
to give any tolerable certainty  or even 
24
ADDRESS.
safety  to  the  course to be pursued in
cases which may arise in your practice
any day you live.   You must yourself
observe; but the observation of another
may materially modify your own ;  and
that of a third may first detect the prin-
ciple which rules in them all, making
all  one, with  an assignable difference.
You must reason  on your experience,
and  on   the  experience  of  others,
and  must compare  your  conclusions
with such as have been  of  good autho-
rity  amongst  judicious  men, and see
whether your results are thereby to be
modified,  or their conclusions require
to be restricted or enlarged.   You must
study therefore  with a spirit equally
remote  from  servility  and from pre-
sumption  ; you must be both teachable
and independent,—in a  word you must 
ADDRESS.
25
be candid. Be candid and earnest, and
you  will advance  your profession, and
cause to be no longer true, what Bacon
says of medicine in his day, and which
may not be altogether inapplicable at
this  day :  " Medicine  is  a  science
which hath been  more professed than
labored and yet more labored than ad-
vanced,  the labor having been in my
judgment rather in circle  than in pro-
gression.  For  I find much iteration but
small addition."*
  Obviously, then, most obviously, the
medical profession is no sphere for the
besotted sensualist.   As  you enter it,
Gentlemen, do  so  under the most
serious  conviction that its duties will
demand  all the  purity  of mind ; all
* Advancement of Learning: Book LT. 
26           ADDRESS.
the clearness of head ; all the depth
and accuracy of knowledge ;  all the
concentration  of powers ;  all the pa-
tience  and  fortitude, which you can
command or  acquire.   Every  faculty
and every susceptibility will be in con-
stant  requisition.   The claims of the
patient, and the claims of your profes-
sion,  to  which  you should  ever hold
yourselves debtors,  demand in you,
therefore, an elevated moral character.
  III. I remark again that the physi-
cian should be  a kind  and courteous
man.   He should be a gentleman,  in
the best sense of the word.   He comes
in contact with people in circumstances
where sympathy and kindness and a deli-
cate sense of propriety, are desired and
appreciated, if they are anywhere. His
attentions are required by all classes in 
ADDRESS.
27
 the  community,—by  children  :—and
 he should cultivate  the qualities and
 feelings  which  will   enable   him to
 soothe them  and gain their confidence.
 The success of his remedies  will often
 be materially  affected by the soothed
 or irritated condition of the patient, in-
 duced by his own presence.   Men of
 every degree  of cultivation and char-
 acter need his  services ; and every man
 in the  anguish and  suffering  of  the
 sick-bed  craves kindness  and sympa-
 thy ;  will appreciate then,  if never
 before, a sympathizing look, a gentle
 word, an encouraging smile,  a  soli-
 citous and kind behavior.  If the phy-
sician is  a truly  kind  and courteous
man, his very presence may sometimes
do more for the relief of his patient
than all his "  nostrums."   No  matter 
28
ADDRESS.
how rude  and coarse the patient's na-
ture may be, when he is in health, he
craves gentleness and sympathy when
he is sick.
  The physician is  called to attend
upon  females ; and  in  a  lady's  sick-
chamber, the accomplishments of a true
gentleman  are valued  as  perhaps  no
where eke.  And it  requires  no  ordi-
nary qualities  of head and  heart to dis-
charge the  duties of such a situation in
a satisfactory manner.   It may per-
haps be necessary for you  to have been
sick yourselves,  Gentlemen,  and  to
have had the attentions about your own
sick-bed, of a female  friend,  to enable
you  to  appreciate rightly the kind of
attentions which a female patient  re-
quires.    How  wonderfully  soft  and
soothing the hand  on  your forehead ; 
ADDRESS.
29
 how  tender  and full  of concern  and
 sympathy the tones of her voice ; how
 patiently will she sit by you, and bathe
 your temples and anticipate your wants
 and seem to feel every pain which you
 experience ;  how noiselessly she glides
 about, noi; like a spirit at all, not like
 an angel ; but just  like  a woman—
 which is far better,—and  her satisfac-
 tion  seems  to be  as  great  as  yours
 when she has  contrived anything to re-
 lieve you a little,  or  fixed you some-
 thing which j-ou relish.  As a female
 can alone give such attentions, so can
 she alone fully appreciate them when
 given.  A physician  who  can in  any
 measure render them  is a benefactor.
 Such a man's presence by  a  lady's
sick-bed, has  healing  virtue in it.   It
works wonders.   And well it may ; for 
30
ADDRESS.
it is the product of the rarest of virtues
and of gifts.   On the other hand there
is no object which a sensitive and well-
bred woman dreads so much as a coarse
and vulgar physician.   She  regards
him as worse  than the disease.  Her
chief alarm at the approach of sickness
is the visit of such a Doctor ;  and the
visit will certainly  be  avoided if there
is any other possible relief within reach.
   This is a matter of great importance.
Men  and   women ;  adults and chil-
dren ; the  cultivated and the rude, all
demand gentleness, sympathy  and de-
licate attention when  they are sick ;
and they  appreciate them then, if  at
no other time.
   But one step farther  : You will often
be  called  to stand by the death-bed :
and how necessary the gentle,  kindly 
ADDRESS.
31
graces I have mentioned, there !  How
much an  attentive and  trusted physi-
cian may do to " facilitate and assuage
the pains and agonies of death !"  And
if any situation in the world  requires
of a man  to feel,  and to be skillful in
administering, the consolations of reli-
gion, this is pre-eminently  that situa-
tion.
   These four things, then,  Gentlemen,
ought to characterize you as physicians.
You  should be  learned, virtuous  and
courteous  ;  you should also  be religious
men.  Cultivate  assiduously these qua-
lities and graces, and you will not fail
to illustrate and  adorn a noble  profes-
sion.   It  is a profession which many
enter,  but  in which few become dis-
tinguished.   And the reason why  so
few become  distinguished in it doubt- 
32
ADDRESS.
less is, that so few appreciate as they
ought  the weight of responsibility at-
tached to it;  that so few enter it with
the careful  and  complete mental and
moral discipline which is requisite, and
pursue it with that conscientious  devo-
tion which its delicate and momentous
interests ought to inspire.  But, Gen-
tlemen, there  is no more promising and
noble field for enterprise  and distinc-
tion  than  this.    It furnishes  ample
scope for your  best powers ; it de-
mands the exercise of  every human
virtue ; it  furnishes occasion for the
display of every accomplishment and
every grace ;  and  therefore affords a
basis  for an  enduring  and honorable
fame.
  I have only to  add, Gentlemen, that
the Medical Department of this Uni- 
ADDRESS.
33
versity, in strictest sympathy with the
spirit of the University itself, has from
the  start, sought  to  produce in  its
students a culture of the kind  which I
have  spoken  of.   The  names  of the
men  whose learning and  virtues have
formerly  adorned it, sufficiently  indi-
cate this.   An institution which enrolls
among  its  instructors  the  name of
Arthur L.  Porter,  could not  lack
scholarly  earnestness  and enterprise.
The Smiths were a pledge of learning,
industry and solid character.   And the
genius  and  enthusiasm  of Benjamin
Lincoln,  the  last  in  the  list  of  its
former  professors,  seem still to linger
here as the Genius loci.  And if I have
not entirely mistaken the spirit of the
instructions which your present teachers
have  given you,  it  corresponds essen- 
34
ADDRESS.
tially with what I have just expressed,
and  has  aimed  to  carry  you forward
towards high and manly ends, in a path
of faithful and accurate learning. And
they will  naturally look to your enter-
prise and professional  virtues  and suc-
cess  as furnishing to the  public  the
proof, that such are  the real aims and
influence  of their instructions.   The
numbers already  in  attendance  upon
the regular lectures would seem to show
that  a Medical  School of high objects
and  requirements, which it has been
hitherto nearly impossible  to sustain,
has now  become practicable ;  and  en-
courages the hope that its present flat-
tering condition is  but the beginning
of a  brilliant and useful career.  And
certainly  the  congratulations of  the
University and of the whole community 
ADDRESS.
35
are due to those gentlemen of the Me-
dical   Faculty,  to  whose enterprise,
judgment and perseverance, the present
unexpected success of the enterprise is
to be  attributed.
   Gentlemen ; it is at the recommen-
dation of these,  your instructors, based
on a knowledge  of  your  character and
attainments,  that I now  present  you,
in  the name of the  University,  the
Diploma, which will accredit you, all
over the world,  as regular members of
the Medical Profession.   You have a
noble  career before you :  fail not to
pursue it nobly ! 
*
  .V
C