REID, JOHN, M.D.,
Chandos Professor of Anatomy and Medicine in the University of St.
Andrews.—This talented anatomist and physiologist, who was so unexpectedly
removed from us when his value was just beginning to be estimated by the
world, was born at Bathgate, Linlithgowshire, on the 9th of April, 1809. He
was the sixth child of Henry Reid, a thriving farmer and cattle-dealer. The
commencement of his education was rather unpropitious; for before he knew
the grammar of his own language, he was sent to learn that of Latin, under
one of those frowzy village pedagogues who were so plentiful in Scotland, as
well as England, when normal schools were as yet unknown. Under, or rather,
we should say, in spite of such a preceptor, John Reid made a
respectable proficiency in classical learning; and at the age of fourteen he
was sent to the university of Edinburgh, where, for the first two or three
years, he chiefly devoted himself to the study of Latin, Greek, and
mathematics. But a love of literature for its own sake was not his
characteristic: it was merely the means to an end, and not the end itself,
and he valued it chiefly as the exponent of thought in those scientific
pursuits to which his life was devoted. The same love of science induced him
to direct his studies to the medical profession, instead of the church,
which had been originally selected for his career. In the many departments
of the healing art, those of anatomy and physiology exclusively attracted
his attention, and upon these, while a student, he laid the secure
foundation of his future distinction. After five years spent as a medical
student, he obtained, in 1830, the diploma of surgeon and physician. On
receiving the last and most honourable of these appointments, there were not
less than 106 candidates who obtained the diploma of M.D. on the same day.
On this occasion, a velvet cap is placed for a moment upon each head
successively—resembling the now almost forgotten process in Scotland of
extinguishing a chandelier of candles. This useful and wonder-working cap,
that converts raw lads into learned doctors by a single touch, was supposed
to have been originally the head-gear of George Buchanan. At the university
of St. Andrews the case is better still, as their graduating cap is supposed
to have been made out of a part of the velvet dress of John Knox.
On becoming a physician, Dr.
Reid’s first wish was to receive a medical appointment in the navy for two
or three years, in the hope of seeing the world, and establishing himself in
his profession. But as no opportunity of this kind occurred, he accepted the
office of clerk or assistant-physician in the clinical wards of the
Edinburgh Infirmary. After discharging its duties for a twelvemonth with
great ability, he repaired to Paris in the autumn of 1831, for the purpose
of improving himself in its medical schools. His enthusiastic application in
the French capital was well requited by the lessons of Louis and Andral, two
of the most distinguished physicians, and Dupuytren and Listrane, the most
skilful surgeons in Paris, whose lectures he attended. His description of
the daily routine while thus employed, although so brief, gives a full idea
of his diligence:—"I go to one of the hospitals for three hours in the
morning, before breakfast; immediately after breakfast I go to the
dissecting-rooms for three or four hours, then attend a lecture or two,
return to dinner, and pass the evening at home." On his return to Scotland
in 1832, uncertain where to commence his labours, he soon found that a
choice had been made for him, by a stern necessity over which he had no
control. The cholera had entered the country, and was making fearful havoc
in Dumfries; and as the regular physicians of the district were too few to
withstand the sudden and overwhelming visitation, four medical men were sent
to their aid from Edinburgh, of whom Dr. Reid was one. He had seen the worst
of this terrible calamity in Paris, and learned its mode of treatment: he
was also aware of the danger which it entailed upon the physician as well as
the patient. Undismayed, however, by his full knowledge of the peril, he set
off with this "forlorn hope," and remained a whole month in the midst of
infection, until the plague was stayed; and this, too, in spite of an
alarming attack of peritonitis, that threatened every moment while it lasted
to involve him in the fate of the sufferers, by increasing his liability to
infection. The duties which he had to undergo in Dumfries during his short
sojourn there, were such as required the utmost of moral heroism. "It was
terrible work," he thus wrote, "for the first few days. It was truly the
City of the Plague. Such dreadful scenes I should never wish to be again
obliged to witness; and what aggravated in no small degree the miseries and
horrors inseparable from the agonies and dying groans of so many sufferers
was, that the dread of contagion seemed to have torn asunder the social
bonds of society, and the wretched victim had too often occasion to upbraid,
with his last breath, the selfish fear of friends, and even of his nearest
relations."
On the cessation of this most
fearful of plagues, Dr. Reid, after a short interval, and while he was
yearning for active employment, received two offers. The one was to settle
in a medical vacancy near his native Bathgate, where he might have secured
the quiet, easy, and respectable life of a country doctor, and talked
politics with the parish minister, or general gossip with the laird’s
family. The other offer was to become a partner in the school of anatomy in
Old Surgeons’ Hall, Edinburgh, where the growing crowd of students required
an addition to the usual staff of instructors. Here, as demonstrator, his
duty would be a revolting one. He would have to wait all day, like a ghoul,
in the dissecting-room, amidst mangled human subjects, and expound, from
morning till night, the construction of these revolting masses, and trace in
them the sources of those various maladies which flesh is heir to. He felt
that he must thus dwell among the dead to benefit the living. He knew, also,
that in this way alone he could prosecute those anatomical researches in
reference to physiology, to which his whole heart was so intensely devoted.
On this account, he did not hesitate to accept the office, notwithstanding
the horror of his family at the idea of one of their number being a mangler
of the dead—a very henchman of the common executioner! From 1833 to 1836, he
continued to be the demonstrator of Old Surgeons’ Hall, and his labours in
this capacity have elicited the most enthusiastic encomiums from those
distinguished successors who were originally his pupils. "He was the most
painstaking demonstrator," one of them declares, "I ever knew or heard of.
No ‘grinder’ paid by the hour could have displayed more patience, or taken
more trouble to make anatomy easy to the meanest capacity. Where he might
have contented himself in the discharge of his duty, by a bare demonstration
and description of the parts, he seemed to be animated by a sincere purpose
of stereotyping his lesson on the memory and understanding of the dullest of
his audience. His patience with those who wished to learn had no limit." "We
used to crowd round him," another pupil writes, "and ask questions on any
point that was not thoroughly understood; but this was very seldom
necessary; for such was the order, clearness, and minuteness of his
description, that the subject was indeed made easy to the dullest
comprehension. That kind of instruction, also, which with him, as with every
great anatomist of this country, sought for illustration in those points
bearing on surgical or medical practice, was never lost sight of; and I, for
one, up to this hour, and I firmly believe on this account, have never
forgotten his admirable demonstrations." In this way he was wont, during
nine months of each year, to give instructions daily in the dissecting-room
from nine in the morning till four in the afternoon; and as some time was
necessary for rest after such fatiguing labours, he generally commenced his
private studies late in the evening, and continued them till long after
midnight, declaring that he always found himself fittest for work when other
people were going to their beds. He also attended, on the evenings of the
six months of winter, the meetings of the scientific societies in Edinburgh
connected with his profession, where the discussions were of such an
interesting character as to attract the intellectual of every class, either
as members or auditors. At this time, also, he gave the fruits of some of
his more diligent investigations in the form of essays read before these
societies, which were published in 1835. Two of these were on certain
curious structures observed in connection with the veins; a third was on the
organization of certain glands in the whale, and some peculiarities in the
internal arrangement of the blood-vessels of man during the period of
juvenility. But amidst all this heroism of labour and research, we must
confess that with Dr. Reid one important subject had been, and still
continued to be omitted. On one occasion, a discussion among some of his
medical friends who had met in his apartment was carried on, in which a
religious question was involved, and Scripture was appealed to as conclusive
evidence. But on searching his well-stored library for a Bible to quote
chapter and verse, none could at first be found; and it was only after
careful rummaging, that at length this most momentous of all volumes was
found thrust behind the other books, and covered with dust. He was at
present labouring for distinction, and had no time to study it; by and by,
when the prize was won, he would again read his Bible, as he had done when
he was a boy. It is well that this indifference, lately so common among
intellectual men, is now regarded not only as profane, but even unliterary,
and in bad taste. It was well, also, for Reid, that that "more convenient
season," which so many have expected in vain, was vouchsafed to him at last.
In consequence of the high
reputation which Dr. Reid had acquired as the anatomical demonstrator of Old
Surgeons’ hall during three years’ attendance, he was unanimously called, by
his brethren of Edinburgh, to occupy a more honourable and important office.
It was that of lecturer on physiology in the Extra -Academical Medical
School, now left vacant by the death of Dr. Fletcher, author of the
"Rudiments of Physiology." Into this new sphere he removed with considerable
reluctance, for he was diffident of his powers as a lecturer, which were
still untried. His perseverance, however, not only overcame his timidity,
but enabled him to become as distinguished in the oratorical as he had
formerly been in the conversational form of instruction. He now also had
more leisure for self-improvement, as his course for the year commenced in
November, and terminated with the close of April. In 1838 he was appointed
pathologist to the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh, where his duties consisted
in collecting the weekly statistics of the institution, and conducting the
postmortem examinations of the patients who had died in the hospital;
and in the following year, he was also appointed superintendent of the
infirmary. In this last capacity, we are told in the "Monthly Journal of
Medical Science," "he carried into his inquiries concerning morbid anatomy
and pathology, the same accuracy in observing facts, and the same cautious
spirit in drawing inferences from them, that characterized his anatomical
and physiological researches. He at once saw the necessity of making his
position serviceable to the advancement of medical knowledge, and, struck
with the inconsistencies which existed as to the absolute and relative size
and weight of the principal organs of the body, he commenced another
laborious investigation on this subject. He introduced weighing-machines
into the pathological theatre, by means of which the weight of the entire
body was first ascertained, and then, respectively, the weights of the
different organs." In 1839 Dr. Reid was candidate for the chair of medicine
in King’s College, Aberdeen, but was unsuccessful; in the same year he was
candidate for the chair of anatomy in Marischal College, and was again
unsuccessful. These disappointments, however, he bore with such good humour,
as consciousness of desert, and hope of better luck in store, acting upon a
naturally cheerful, buoyant spirit, seldom fail to supply. Already he had
broken ground, and most successfully, into those discoveries upon the
anatomy and physiology of the heart, and especially of the nervous system,
upon which he may be said to have established for himself a European
reputation; and in the latter department he had produced and read before the
British Association an epitome of his "Experimental Investigation into the
Functions of the eight pair of nerves, or the glosso-pharyngeal,
pneumogastric, and spinal accessory." The light which was dawning upon him
in the course of these investigations was soon to be worth more than the
distinction that can be conferred by a seat upon the bench of a College
Senatus Consultum. All this was soon after attested at a public scientific
meeting, in which it was declared, among other just encomiums, that Dr.
Reid, by his "original investigations into the physiology of the nervous
system, had made the profession acquainted with valuable facts, which had at
once enriched the science their discoverer cultivated, and procured for
himself an extensive and enviable reputation." Such was the testimony of
Professor Alison, one of the most competent of judges upon such a subject.
Having now attained a high
reputation in his own favourite walks of science, an appointment soon
offered that consoled Dr. Reid for his late mischances. This was the
professorship of anatomy in the university of St. Andrews, which was
conferred upon him in March, 1841. He had now only reached his thirty-first
year; and from what he had already accomplished, combined with his robust,
vigorous, healthy constitution, it was hoped that a long life was yet in
store for him, as well as an ample field of research and discovery. He
commenced in winter the course of lectures that properly belonged to his
professorship; but as this class, composed of medical students only, was too
limited a sphere, he also delivered a course of lectures on comparative
anatomy and general physiology, which all were free to attend gratuitously,
whether from town or college. A delighted crowd usually assembled at these
prelections, composed not only of professors, ministers, and students from
several classes, but also of the citizens of St. Andrews, whose earnest
animated attention would of itself have been a rich reward to any public
instructor. But even amidst all this, Dr. Reid felt that there was something
wanting. St. Andrews was not a medical school of any mark, as most of the
county students destined for the healing profession were wont to pass over
to the university of Edinburgh. Besides, it was difficult to procure
subjects, without which anatomical dissertations are all but useless—for
even yet there still lingered among the living of Fifeshire that jealous
care of their dead, which was placarded not a hundred years ago over one of
their cemeteries, in these ominous words: "Whoever enters this churchyard
will be shot." These drawbacks he felt so sensitively that he was impatient
for wider action, until 1844, when St. Andrews was converted into a happy
home for him, by his marriage with Miss Ann Blyth. Four years followed, in
which his researches were chiefly directed to the natural history of the
marine animals so plentiful on the Fifeshire coast, and the results of which
he communicated in several papers to the "Annals and Magazine of Natural
History." In 1848 he made a collection, in one volume, of the essays which
he had published in several scientific journals during the course of
thirteen years. The work is entitled, "Physiological, Anatomical, and
Pathological Researches," and consists of twenty-eight articles. Of the
value of these, especially of the six that contain the results of his
inquiries into the functions of living organs, it would be impossible to
convey an adequate idea, without such a full analysis as would far exceed
the plan and limits of our work. We content ourselves with quoting, from a
host of congenial critics who reviewed the volume, the opinions of one who
was well qualified to estimate its worth. "As a physiologist," says Dr. J.
H. Bennett, "he (Dr. Reid) may be considered to have been unsurpassed; not,
indeed, because it has fallen to his lot to make those great discoveries or
wide generalizations which constitute epochs in the history of the science,
but because he possessed such a rare degree of caution and conscientiousness
in all his researches, that no kind of investigation, whether literary,
anatomical, physiological, or pathological, that could illustrate any
particular fact, did he ever allow to be neglected. . . .His volume contains
more original matter and sound physiology than will be found in any work
that has issued from the British press for many years."
Dr. Reid was now a happy man,
in the fullest sense of the term. With a happy home, and an extensive circle
of friends, by whom he was honoured and beloved, his scientific aspirations
were every day advancing towards that termination upon which his heart had
been fixed for years. "My worldly circumstances," he wrote afterwards to a
friend, "were assuming a more comfortable aspect; my constitution, until
lately, was robust; my age still in its prime (within some months of forty
years); I had formed plans for carrying on investigations into the structure
and vital actions of the lower organized bodies, which can be so readily
procured from this coast, little thinking that disease was so soon to
overtake me. I had my dreams of being able to add something of importance to
the deeply attractive and instructive matters embraced in such
investigations; and I was looking forward to the time when I should be able
to say that I have done something which will prevent me from being readily
forgotten." But while he was thus in the full flush of health and strength,
of happiness and hope, a fearful pause occurred. A small,
insignificant-looking blister made its appearance upon his tongue, which,
instead of departing, continued to increase, until it became a confirmed
ulcer; and on examining this suspicious plague-spot, it was found to be the
sure commencement of a cancer. He was thus to be the victim of a disease the
most loathsome and incurable, while the only prospect which it held out was
nothing but months of anguish and torture, until his iron frame should be
worn out, and his strength prostrated into utter helplessness, so that death
might come to his relief. He changed his residence from place to place in
search of alleviation from pain, and submitted to torturing operations, in
the faint hope that the malady might be eradicated; but its fangs were too
deeply inserted, and too firmly closed, to be thus loosed from their hold.
It was a barbed arrow, which no surgery could extract; and nothing remained
for him but to linger upon the outskirts of the fight of life, in which he
had hitherto borne himself so bravely, and await the moment of release. It
was then that the all-important subject, which hitherto he had too much
neglected, summoned his attention with an authority that would not be
gainsaid. For what had he spent the past? What provision had he made for the
future? These were questions that occurred through the long days of
helplessness and nights of sleeplessness and pain, and he knew that if not
answered here, they would assuredly be repeated, and as certainly must be
answered elsewhere. And thither he felt that he was moving from day to day,
and step by step, under an urgency which no power of earth could retard. The
result of this solemn self-examination was, that Dr. Reid became a Christian
in the true sense of the term. His life, indeed, had been one of
unimpeachable honour, and universal kindliness and benevolence; and, as far
as a profession of religion went, he had passed muster among the general
file of Christian men. But now he felt that all his thoughts and studies had
been devoted to the things that are seen and felt, while his futurity had
been bounded by time and the world, which were fast vanishing away. He thus
became a Christian, not, howeveir, from selfish and craven fear, but from
the same steady conviction and love of truth that had hitherto directed all
his researches; and even to the last, while exhibiting the child-like
simplicity and humility of his new character, he continued his scientific
studies, but purified and elevated by the fresh impulse that had been given
them. And thus he died, rejoicing, even in death, that the glorious future
into which he was about to enter would fully open up to him those sciences
of which as yet he had scarcely learned the alphabet. What are our studies
worth unless they are to be eternal? After more than a year and a half of
intense suffering, Reid entered into his rest on the 30th of July, 1849. His
widow and two daughters, one a posthumous child, survive to lament him. A
simple tablet on the wall of the ancient church-yard of St. Andrews,
indicates the place of his interment. |