and became the basis of all medical theory. The study of bacteriology was an immediate consequence, although it seemed at first in conflict with Virchow's theory, and out of bacteriology have grown antiseptic surgery and the other marvelous developments of our modern operative science.

From the time of his resumption of his Berlin chair, Virchow's literary and scientific activity was incessant. Until his final illness he never ceased to work and teach. Continuing the publication of his Archives of Pathological Anatomy and Physiology and of Clinical Medicine," which he had founded in 1847, and which are now, for the first time, without his supervision, Virchow wrote upon widely ranging topics. Physiology, public and school hygiene, epidemics and endemics, hospitals,-civil and military,-criminal law, military medicine, the cleaning of cities, the reform of medicine-these are some of the general medical heads under which he wrote. Upon the inflammation of blood vessels, the formation of the human skull and the cerebral substances, on swellings, tumors, embolisms, tuberculosis, diphtheria, and many other subjects he used the pen and displayed the knowledge of the specialist. Goethe as a Naturalist," Annual Reports of Advances in Medicine Throughout the World,'

The Graves of Koban," and many valuable archæological works might almost be said to have been the pastime and recreations of his intellect, which frequently gave nineteen hours out of the twenty-four to intense mental labor. In the interest of his friend Schliemann, the discoverer of Troy, he found time to travel in Nubia, Egypt, and the Peloponnesus, and no one ever hinted that in these side issues any trace of the amateur was to be found either in his writings or in his historical deductions. If a jack of many trades, he was essentially and absolutely master of them all. And it goes without saying that a mind like this was not contented until it had assimilated one after another of the living languages.

Throughout all this wondrously busy career he was not only the teacher of medical students from all over the world, who gathered in his lecture room to see the extraordinary skill with which he used his knife, but also the instructor of the public at large. For years he taught for the Berlin Association of Artisans, in what might now be called a 66 University Extension" movement, and put all his heart into the work of spreading a knowledge of science among the poor and the great middle classes. He never had a qualm as to the results of imparting edu cation to the masses, nor feared that little knowledge which a catching phrase has made a "dangerous thing." Truth was for him ever the goal

to be sought, the god to be worshipped, and there were none to whom he was not willing to carry the facts which science and his own creative ability had brought to light. As if this were not proof enough of his readiness to serve the people, he brought about the construction of one hospital and one museum after another, through his own initiative or the support which his unrivaled prestige enabled him to give to others. Even Berlin's transformation from an exceptionally unhealthy to a notably healthy city is laid at his door.

VIRCHOW'S GREAT SERVICES TO THE STATE.

All this would alone have marked his devotion to the common weal and would have made him as one apart among his brothers in learning, for men like Helmholtz, Darwin, and Pasteur were content with the laboratory and its rewards. Not so Virchow. The highest kind of patriotism, the most conscientious pride in the civic life of which he was a part, impelled him to take office. How he found time to be a conscientious legislator, and even to be a partaker in the social life of the capital, it is impossible to explain. But the fact remains that he was for forty-two years one of Berlin's most faithful city councillors. Moreover, this did not satisfy his desire to serve his state, and in 1862 no fewer than three constituencies elected him to the Prussian Chamber, in which he served for sixteen years, and speedily rose to be the leader of the Liberal party by sheer ability and undaunted political courage. After city and state there was still the empire, however, and in its popular governing body, the Reichstag, Virchow served from 1880 to 1893, until turned out by the ungrateful Social Democrats.

It was in the Prussian Chamber that he rendered his greatest legislative services. Never an orator, his speeches were clear, forcible, and marked by intense earnestness, and as such they always attracted attention. Bismarck found it necessary to cross swords with him time and again. So natural and so outspoken a radical was naturally a red flag to the wonderful but unscrupulous Chancellor. How could the bu reaucracy or aristocracy admire a man who would have his countrymen ground arms whatever the nation's perils? How could they admire one who again and again arraigned the Prussian ministry as he had arraigned it on his return from Silesia? How could the blood-and-iron patriots else than abhor one who, in 1865, defeated the attempt to create a German navy? Or who had, in 1863, forced the Chamber to pass a resotion condemning the government? His success

in the latter matter so irritated Bismarck as to

lead him to challenge the undersized, spectacled professor to a duel, which was fortunately prevented, but the threat of which did not induce Virchow to soften his language, often described as violent and smacking of the demagogue by those who felt the lash of his tongue. Nor did his being deprived of the rectorate of the University of Berlin, in 1887, for a period of five years, affect his championship of what he considered the right. So great a man was above both the rewards and punishments of offended royalty. In the wars of 1866 and of 1870-71 he proved to his political opponents that he possessed the cheaper patriotism by conducting the first ambulance trains into the hostile territories, and devoting to the Red Cross work his extraordinary talent for organization. And all the while, if there was a hospital to be built, a new quarter to be laid out, the police to be reorganized, the drainage to be improved, the water supply to be increased, or the public health to be better safeguarded, it was always to Virchow that the magistrates of Berlin went seeking inspiration and the advice which always determined the action to be taken. Is it any wonder that the city has named its newest hospital after him, or that it buried him at its own expense as its most distinguished citizen?

Wherever placed, with whom he might come in contact, whether delivering the Huxley or Royal Society lectures in England, or showing a couple of Americans through the Berlin Eth

IT

nological Museum, or bowing before royalty, this king of science was ever a simple little gray man, "sincere, kindly, unassuming, absorbed in his subject, not in himself, crammed with informa tion, profound and penetrating in thought, plain in utterance, the embodiment of accurate knowl edge and sound judgment, the true servant of the truth."

Lord Lister, to whom antisepsis owes so much if not all, speaking as mouthpiece of England's learned societies at Virchow's wonderful eightieth birthday celebration in Berlin, on October 13, 1901 (like his seventieth, an event in the scientific world which drew its devotees from all quarters to the home of the Berlin savant), said: "All these bodies join in the recognition of your gigantic intellectual powers, in gratitude for the great benefits which you have conferred on humanity, and in admiration of your personal character, your absolute uprightness, the courage which has enabled you always to advocate what you believed to be the cause of truth, liberty, and justice, and the genial nature which has won for you the love of all who know you."

Few men have ever lived to have such homage paid and such praise bestowed upon them. None have found the applause of the multitude, the praise of the discerning, or the gifts of kings, of slighter moment, when compared with the satisfaction of high attainment or of ceaseless services on behalf of humankind.

T seemed as if one encountered Virchow in whatever direction one turned in Berlin, and one felt that it was not without reason that his compatriots spoke of him as "the man who knows everything." At seventy-seven years he still had all the alertness of intellect and the energy of body that made him what he was. One found him at an early hour in the morning attending to the routine of his hospital duties, his lectures, and his clinical demonstrations. These finished, he rushed off, perhaps, to his parliamentary duties; thence to a meeting of the Academy of Science, or to preside at the Academy of Medicine or at some other scientific gathering. in intervals of these diversified pursuits he was besieged by a host of private callers, who sought his opinion, his advice, his influence, in some matter of practical politics, of statecraft, or of science; or who, perhaps, merely came the length of the Continent that they might grasp the hand of the Father of Pathology."

And

In whatever capacity one sought him out, provided the seeking was not too presumptuous, one was sure to find the great savant approachable, courteous, even cordial. A man of multifarious affairs, he impressed one as having abundance of time for them all, and to spare. There is a seeming leisureliness about the habits of existence on the Continent that does not obtain in America, and one felt the flavor of it quite as much in the presence of this great worker as among those people who, from our standpoint, seem never really to work at all. This was to a certain extent explained if one visited Virchow in his home, and found, to his astonishment, the worldrenowned physician, statesman, pathologist, and anthropologist domiciled in a little apartment of modest equipment, up two flights, in a house of the most unpretentious character. It was entirely respectable, altogether comfortable, to be sure but it was a grade of living which a man of corresponding position in America could

there was any seeming disparity between his fame and his material station in life; nor do I claim this as a merit of the American standpoint.

Be that as it may, however, our present concern lies not with these matters, but with Virchow the pathologist and teacher. To see the great scientist at his best in this rôle, one should have visited the Institute of Pathology on a Thursday morning, at the hour of nine, as the writer did when last in Berlin. The institute building itself is situated close to the great Charitè Hospital, and faces the series of low, unpretending structures which make up the famous bacteriological laboratories of Professor Koch. Virchow's institute is large by comparison with these, yet it also is distinctly unpretentious, not to say antiquated and shabby. For the moment, as in the past, it serves an excellent pur. pose, but it is about to be replaced by a new and more commodious building; indeed, it is possible that the change may have been effected within the past two

years.

As we entered the lecture hall on the occasion referred to, we found the students already assembled and gathered in clusters all about the room, examining specimens of morbid anatomy, under guidance of various laboratory assistants. This was to give them a general familiarity with the appearances of disease products to be described to them in the ensuing lecture. But what was most striking about the room was the unique method of arrangement of the desk or table on which the specimens rested. It was virtually a long-drawn-out series of desks winding back and forth throughout the entire room, but all united into one, so that a specimen passing along the table from end to end would make a zigzag tour of the room, pass

not hold to without finding himself quite out of step with his confrères and the subject of unpleasant comment. But here, in this city of universal apartment-house occupancy and relatively low average of display in living, it was quite otherwise. Virchow lived on the same plane, generally speaking, with the other scientists of Europe; it was only from the American standpoint that

ing finally before each person in the entire audience. To facilitate such transit there was a little iron railway all along the center of the table, with miniature turntables at the corners, along which microscopes, with adjusted specimens for examination, could be conveyed without danger of maladjustment or injury. This may seem a small detail, but it was really an impor tant auxiliary in the teaching by demonstration with specimens for which this room was peculiarly intended. The purely theoretical lectures of Professor Virchow were held in a neighboring amphitheater of conventional type.

Of a sudden there was a hum in the hush of voices as a little, thin, frail-looking man entered and stepped briskly to the front of the room and upon the low platform before the blackboard in the corner. A moment's pause for the students to take their places, and the lecturer, who, of course, was Virchow himself, began, in a clear, conversational voice, to discourse on the topic of the day,-which chanced to be the subject of the formation of clots in blood vessels. There was no particular attempt at oratory. Rather the lecturer proceeded as if talking man to man, with no thought but to make his meaning perfectly clear. He began at once putting specimens in circulation, as supplied on his demand by his assistants from a rather grewsome-looking collection

before him. Now he paused to chaff the assistant who was making the labels, poking good. natured fun at his awkwardness, but with no trace of sting. Now he became animated, his voice raised a little, his speech more vehement, as he advanced his own views on some contested theory, or refuted the objections that some opponent had urged against him, always, however, with a smile lurking about his eyes or openly showing on his lips.

Constantly the lecturer turned to the blackboard to illustrate with colored crayons such points of his discourse as the actual specimens in circulation might have left obscure. Every. thing had to be made plain to every hearer, or he was not satisfied. One can but contrast such teaching as this with the lectures of the average German professor, who seems not to concern himself in the least as to whether anything is understood by any one. But Virchow had the spirit of the true teacher. He had the air of loving his task, old story though it was to him. Most of his auditors were mere students, yet he appealed to them as earnestly as if they had been associates and equals. He seemed determined that his phraseology should gauge the level of their comprehension. Physically he was near to them as he talked, the platform on which he stood being but a few inches in height, and such physical nearness conduces to a familiarity of discourse that is best fitted for placing lecturer and hearers en rapport. All in all, appealing as it did almost equally to ear and eye, it was a type of what a lecture should be; not a student there but went away with an added fund of information,-which is far more than can be said of most of the lectures in a German university.

Needless to say, there are other departments to the Institute of Pathology. There are collections of beautifully preserved specimens for examination; rooms for practical experimentation in all phases of the subject, the chemical side included; but these are not very different from the similar departments of similar institutions everywhere. What was unique and characteristic about this institution was the personality of the director, and perhaps the best glimpse one could have gotten of this personality was to be gained by attending one of the demonstrative lectures of which a glimpse has just been given. First and last, these lectures covered the entire field of pathological anatomy. Many a physician from America, as from other lands, came to Berlin to hear them, and felt well repaid for the trouble. Indeed, this institute has been the fountain head of pathological knowledge ever since pathology took firm rank as an inde pendent science.

SOME

OME six years ago the medical world watched with considerable curiosity the experiments of a young Danish physician, whose theories anent a " light cure" held out great promises. Since then the experimental stages have broadened until they include the realm of practicability. To day no name in the scientific catalogue is better known than that of Prof. Niels R. Finsen, of Copenhagen. Since the discoveries of Pasteur, the Roentgen rays are, perhaps, the most wonderful addenda to the history of medicine. But while the latter may be termed the search lights of the modern surgeon and his class, in the particular field he has selected Professor Finsen stands absolutely alone.

The aim of Professor Finsen and the Finsen Medical Light Institute is the conquest of superficially-seated consumption and cancer through the medium of both natural and artificial light. Many skin diseases yield to the methods employed by the eminent discoverer. From a purely æsthetic standpoint, therefore, the light cure becomes a distinct boon to mankind.

His researches and methods have opened up a territory almost unknown until Professor Finsen led the way, not ten years ago. Professor Widmark, of Stockholm, it is true, was the first to prove conclusively that sunburn is caused, not by heat rays, but through certain chemical rays contained in the light. Finsen himself does not hesitate to admit the validity of the other's priority. But still to the Danish physician is due the knowledge that such and such rays in the sun's spectrum are bacteria-destroying, while others are of a healing and curative nature.

Working on this principle, bringing to his aid the electric current, experimenting constantly, ill, yet subjecting himself to personal tests in order to be certain, Professor Finsen stood ready finally to let others judge him by his performances. The highest medical authorities in Europe and the United States have visited the Finsen Medical Light Institute at Copenhagen, and as a result of their approval almost every large city in the world is making ready to establish a plant for the treatment of such diseases as yield to the Finsen concentrated light.

With this much understood, the readers of the REVIEW OF REVIEWS will have little difficulty in

famous institution. Fortunately for the better understanding of things in general, the day is fast disappearing when men of medicine and science hold secret the knowledge which is the concern of all.

The new buildings of the Finsen Medical Light Institute are excellently suited for both research and clinical purposes. Located in Rosenvaenget, a handsome suburban district of Copenhagen, the electric street-car service makes the institute easily available. No better evidence is needed as regards the rapid growth of the institution than the difference between the present spacious quar. ters and the low, almost barn-like, structure occu