Great Britain -- Social conditions -- 19th century; Social problems
but the expertest talker, it is all over with your affairs and you. Talk
never yet could guide any man's or nation's affairs; nor will it yours,
except towards the _Limbus Patrum_, where all talk, except a very select
kind of it, lodges at last.
Medicine, guarded too by preliminary impediments, and frightful
medusa-heads of quackery, which deter many generous souls from entering,
is of the _half_-articulate professions, and does not much invite the
ardent kinds of ambition. The intellect required for medicine might be
wholly human, and indeed should by all rules be,--the profession of the
Human Healer being radically a sacred one and connected with the
highest priesthoods, or rather being itself the outcome and acme of all
priesthoods, and divinest conquests of intellect here below. As will
appear one day, when men take off their old monastic and ecclesiastic
spectacles, and look with eyes again! In essence the Physician's task
is always heroic, eminently human: but in practice most unluckily at
present we find it too become in good part _beaverish_; yielding a
money-result alone. And what of it is not beaverish,--does not that too
go mainly to ingenious talking, publishing of yourself, ingratiating
of yourself; a partly human exercise or waste of intellect, and alas a
partly vulpine ditto;--making the once sacred [Gr.] _'Iatros_, or Human
Healer, more impossible for us than ever!
Angry basilisks watch at the gates of Law and Church just now; and
strike a sad damp into the nobler of the young aspirants. Hard bonds
are offered you to sign; as it were, a solemn engagement to constitute
yourself an impostor, before ever entering; to declare your belief
in incredibilities,--your determination, in short, to take Chaos for
Cosmos, and Satan for the Lord of things, if he come with money in his
pockets, and horsehair and bombazine decently wrapt about him. Fatal
preliminaries, which deter many an ingenuous young soul, and send him
back from the threshold, and I hope will deter ever more. But if you do
enter, the condition is well known: "Talk; who can talk best here? His
shall be the mouth of gold, and the purse of gold; and with my [Gr.]
_mitra_ (once the head-dress of unfortunate females, I am told) shall
his sacred temples be begirt."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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