tissues is not all used, but most of it returns through the veins. 4. It is the contraction, not the dilatation of the heart, which coincides with the pulse, the ventricles, as true muscular sacs, squeezing the blood which they contain into the aorta and pulmonary artery. 5. There are no pores in the septum of the heart, so that the whole of the blood in the right ventricle is sent to the lungs, and thence back again to the left ventricle through the pulmonary veins, while in like manner the whole of the blood in the left ventricle is again sent into the arteries around by the smaller veins into the vena cave, and by them to the right ventricle again, thus making a complete circulation.

Harvey's conclusions are given in the following celebrated passage: "And now I may be allowed to give in brief my view of the circulation of the blood, and propose it for general adop

Since all things, both argument and ocular demonstration, show that the blood passes through the lungs and heart by the auricles and ventricles, and is sent for distribution to all parts of the body, where it makes its way into the veins and pores of the flesh, and then flows by the veins from the circumference to every part of the centre, from the lesser to the greater veins, and is by them finally discharged into the vena cava and right auricle of the heart, and this in such quantity, or in such a flux and reflux, thither by the arteries, hither by the veins, as cannot possibly be supplied by the ingestor, and is much greater than can be required for mere purposes of nutrition, it is absolutely necessary to conclude that the blood in the animal body is impelled in a circle, and is in a state of ceaseless motion, that this is the act or function which the heart performs by means of its pulse, and that it is the sole and only end of the motion and contraction of the heart."

The discovery of the circulation of the capillaries between the arteries and the veins was made in 1661 by Marcellus Malpighi, of Bologna. Malpighi himself showed the capillary circulation to the delighted eyes of Harvey, who recognized in it the "missing link" of his own theory. Although Harvey's discovery, which he was nine years in perfecting, was perfectly capable of demonstration, it was attacked from all sides with the greatest acrimony. Hume remarks, as an evidence of obstinate adherence to preconceived opinions, that "no physician in Europe, who had reached forty years of age, even to the end of his life, adopted Harvey's doctrine of the circulation of the blood."

It would be interesting to review the arguments adduced to disprove this theory, but time forbids. It is simply the old story first vituperation and then laurels. Fortunately Harvey lived long enough to wear his laurels, for his discovery was one that time and future research proved beyond the shadow of

doubt. Nevertheless, the College of Physicians and Surgeons of London ignored it, and nearly half a century after he had announced his discovery to the world, the Paris Royal Society of Medicine gravely listened to an essay which classed his discovery among the impossibilities.

Edward Jenner, the discoverer of vaccination, was born at Berkeley, on May 17, 1749. His father, the Rev. Stephen Jenner, was a rector, and came of a good family. He received his early education at Watton-under-Edge and Cirencester; after which he began his medical studies at Sodbury, near Bristol, under Mr. Ludlow, a surgeon of no great prominence. At twenty-one he proceeded to London, and won the good graces of the celebrated John Hunter, the founder of the Hunterian Museum, now one of the most famous of its kind in the world. He declined the post of naturalist in Captain Cook's second expedition in order to practice medicine in his native place. Like Harvey, his success in the practice of his chosen profession was marked. Jenner possessed many accomplishments and broad learning. He was a musician, a writer of no mean merit of both prose and verse, a biologist, a naturalist, and a geologist.

There was a popular belief among the rural people of his native county, Gloucestershire, that there existed an antagonism between cowpox and smallpox. The medical profession up to the time of Jenner, too learned to investigate this popular belief, supposed it "an imperfect induction of facts." Jenner could not interest even John Hunter, his benefactor and friend, in this inquiry. In 1775 he instituted that systematic investigation which was destined to immortalize his name. He first proved to his entire satisfaction that under the term "cowpox" two distinct and entirely different forms of disease had been confounded. Since only one of these protected against smallpox, failures were thus accounted for. He next ascertained that true cowpox, in order to prove prophylactic, must be communicated at a particular stage of the disease. A certain disease of the horse (grease) was known to produce vesicles and subsequent ulcers on the hands, almost indistinguishable from those of ordinary cowpox. Jenner, by raising vaccine vesicles on the arms of children by matter removed from the horses' necks, proved to his own satisfaction that all genuine cowpox comes from this disease. In 1798 he carried a drawing of the cowpox, as it appeared on the hands of a milkmaid, to London, for the purpose of interesting his friends in the subject. All agreed that the phenomena were "interesting and curious," but none appreciated their practical importance. His theory was proved correct beyond a doubt when, in May, 1796, he inoculated one.

John Phipps, a boy eight years of age, with cowpox matter, and again, in the following July, with variolous matter. As Jenner had predicted, no smallpox followed, and his discovery was then complete. Unfortunately cowpox disappeared from the dairies at this time, and did not recur for two years; but, like a true scientist, Jenner patiently waited until he could repeat his first experiment before publishing his discovery to the world. then prepared a pamphlet announcing it, and proceeded to London to demonstrate it to his friends. It was three months before he could find any one willing to submit to vaccination. He was fortunate enough to have the experiment first made by an eminent surgeon, a Mr. Cline, who applied the virus over the diseased hip-joint of a child, for the purpose of inducing "counter irritation." The patient was afterwards incapable of contracting smallpox.

Jenner first met with opposition to vaccination in the autumn of the same year. It proceeded from a celebrated physician and man of science, Dr. Ingeahausy. Very soon two noisy and opposing factions arose, which retarded the spread of vaccination. The adherents of one party looked upon it as a dangerous and useless practice, and fought it bitterly; the adherents of the other became equally troublesome by their rash and self-seeking advocacy. A certain Dr. Pearson, whose ambition placed him at the head of the latter faction, rushed into print before even seeing a case of cowpox. He did much to bring vaccination into disrepute by distributing virus contaminated with smallpox

matter.

The spread of vaccination over England was encouraged principally by non-professional persons of position, the king, the queen, and the prince of Wales interesting themselves in the movement. It was introduced into the United States by Dr. Waterhouse, the professor of physic at Cambridge, and soon made rapid progress. The practice very soon spread throughout Europe, and to-day has extended over almost the entire world. In 1803 the court of Spain sent forth an expedition which circumnavigated the globe, diffusing cowpox through all the Spanish possessions in both worlds.

To Jenner's immortal discovery we are indebted for security from that horrible and once universal plague, smallpox. Vaccination is practised in nations of the most diverse climes, habits, and religions. It won its way quickly into popular favor, but not without the bitterest opposition. In due time, honors from abroad began to shower upon the discoverer, and Parliament ultimately made him a grant of £20,000. He died January 26, 1823.

Some of the arguments used by the early anti-vaccinationists

were very amusing. Thus, Mr. Ring, in his treaties on cowpox,' mentions "a lady who complained that since her daughter was inoculated she coughs like a cow, and has grown hairy all over her body." And Mr. Blair was told, on a late excursion into the country, that the inoculation of cowpox was discontinued there, because those who had been inoculated in that manner "bellowed like bulls." A celebrated physician used in his clinical lectures a colored portrait of a "cowpoxed, ox-faced boy," with two scrofulous abscesses on his face, which were supposed to indicate sprouting horns. "This boy," gravely observed the lecturer, "is gradually losing the human lineaments, and his countenance is transmuting into the visage of a cow." Again this conscientious gentleman observes that "smallpox is a visitation from God, and originates in man; but the cowpox is produced by presumptious, impious man. The former, heaven ordained; the latter is perhaps a daring and profane violation of our holy religion.' And he subsequently proposed: "Whether vaccination be agreeable to the will and ordinances of God is a question worthy of consideration of the contemplative and learned ministers of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and whether it be impious and profane thus to wrest out of the hands of the Almighty the divine dispensation of Providence." Dr. Squirrell reasoned thus: "Providence never intended that the vaccine disease should affect the human race; else why had it not before this time visited the inhabitants of the globe. The law of God prohibits the practice; the law of man, and the law of nature, loudly exclaim against it." 3

In 1822, Edmund Massey, M.A., preached a sermon at St. Andrews, Holborn, on "The dangerous and sinful practice of inoculation." Various theological arguments are brought to bear against the "diabolical operation," the chief of which is "that if mankind should happen to become more healthy it is a great chance but they would be less righteous." The AntiVaccination Society appealed to the public to suppress "the cruel, despotic tyranny of forcing cowpox misery on the innocent babes of the poor- a gross violation of religion, morality, law, and humanity." 4

Such were a few of the arguments which were stoutly and vigorously urged against the introduction of vaccination. I am aware that a limited number of medical men of the present time protest against it, notwithstanding the overwhelming evidence as to its utility. I am aware of the fact, too, that the universal

1 Blair's Vaccine Contest, p. 69.

2 Cowpox Inoculation, p. 105.
3 Observations. Second Edition, p. 4.
4 Mr. Blair's Pamphlet, p. 95.

practice of vaccination has been attended with abuses. I, nevertheless, maintain that humanity owes such a debt of gratitude to Edward Jenner for this great discovery as it can never pay. The opposition exhibited toward the practice of vaccination is of like character to that which has been made to all the radical innovations in medicine and surgery.

To whom the credit of modern surgical anesthesia is due is yet a mooted question. The honor probably lies between Dr. Wells and Dr. Morton, two American dentists. There is, however, abundant testimony that the employment of anesthesia is a practice of great antiquity. Homer mentions the anæsthetic effects of nepenthes; Herodotus refers to the practice among the Scythians of inhaling the vapors of a certain kind of hemp (probably hashish) to produce intoxication; Dioscorides and Pliny allude to mandragora as an anæsthetic in surgery. Mandragora was also extensively used as an anæsthetic in the thirteenth century by Hugo de Lucca. Shakespeare makes frequent mention of anesthetizing draughts, as well as to the soporific effects of mandrake. The clinical researches of Priestly, towards the close of the last centuary, led to the more thorough investigation of gases and vapors. The anesthetic properties of nitrous-oxide gas were described in 1800 by Sir Humphrey Davy, who experimented with it on himself with the the object of relieving local suffering. As early as 1785 Dr. Pearson, of Birmingham, gave inhalations of sulphuric ether for the relief of asthma; and in 1805 a Dr. Warren, of Boston, used it in the same manner for consumption. In 1818 Farady demonstrated the similarity between the effects of sulphuric ether and nitrous-oxide gas when inhaled. The profession was again reminded of this property of ether by Goodman in 1822, by Jackson in 1833, and by Wood and Bache in 1834; but until the days of Wells (1844), and Morton (1846), these observations were looked upon as mere scientific curiosities.1 A chemist of Liverpool, Mr. Waldie, suggested to Sir James Y. Simpson the anæsthetic properties of chloroform, a trial of which was made by the latter in 1847.

That the introduction of anesthetics was an incalculable boon to humanity, no sane person would at the present day deny. The dread of submitting to surgical operations is lessened be yond measure; suffering has been reduced to a minimum, and it no longer requires a surgeon of "iron nerve" bordering on cruelty to apply the scalpel to his fellow-men. The death rate has been greatly diminished, and the curse of Eve almost blotted out.

I Vide " Memorial of Charles Thomas Wells," presented to the United States Senate (1859), and "An Inquiry into Modern Anæsthesia," by Hon. Truman Smith.