Fifteen Chapters of Autobiography | Page 7

Doctors
abandon the majestic "We," which formerly they shared with Kings and
Editors? "We shall be all the better when we have had our luncheon
and a glass of sherry," said Sir Tumley Snuffim. "We will continue the
bark and linseed," murmured Dr. Parker Peps, as he bowed himself out.
My Doctor says, "Do you feel as if you could manage a chop? It would
do you pounds of good"; and "I know the peroxide dressing is rather
beastly, but I'd stick it another day or two, if I were you." Medical
conversation, too, is an art which has greatly changed. In old days it

was thought an excellent method of lubricating the first interview for
the Doctor to ask where one's home was, and to state, quite irrespective
of the fact, that he was born in the same neighbourhood; having
ascertained that one was, say, a Yorkshireman, to remark that he would
have known it from one's accent; to enlarge on his own connexions,
especially if of the territorial caste; to describe his early travels in the
South of Europe or the United States; and to discourse on water-colour
drawing or the flute. "We doctors, too, have our hobbies; though, alas!
the demands of a profession in which Ne otium quidem otiosum est
leave us little time to enjoy them."
Quite different is the conversation of the modern doctor. He does not
lubricate the interview, but goes straight to business--enquires,
examines, pronounces, prescribes--and then, if any time is left for light
discourse, discusses the rival merits of "Rugger" and "Soccer,"
speculates on the result of the Hospital Cup Tie, or observes that the
British Thoroughbred is not deteriorating when he can win with so
much on his back; pronounces that the Opera last night was ripping, or
that some much-praised play is undiluted rot. Not thus did Dr. Parker
Peps regale Mrs. Dombey, or Sir Tumley Snuffim soothe the shattered
nerves of Mrs. Wititterly. The reaction against alcoholic treatment can,
I believe, be definitely dated from the 10th of January, 1872, when the
heads of the medical profession published their opinion that "alcohol,
in whatever form, should be prescribed with as much care as any
powerful drug, and the directions for its use should be so framed as not
to be interpreted as a sanction for excess." This was a heavy blow and
deep discouragement to the school of Snuffim and Pilkins, and the
system of port at 11, and "the domestic stimulant" between whiles, died
hard.
But this is a long digression. I return to the Family Physician who
prescribed for my youth. He was Dr. T. Somerset Snuffim, son of the
celebrated Sir Tumley, and successor to his lucrative practice. His
patients believed in him with an unquestioning and even passionate
faith, and his lightest word was law. It was he who in 1862 pronounced
me physically unfit for a Private School, but held out hopes that, if I
could be kept alive till I was fourteen, I might then be fit for a Public

School. Four years passed, and nothing particular happened. Then the
time arrived when the decision had to be made between Public School
and Private Tutor. After a vast amount of stethoscoping and
pulse-feeling, Snuffim decided peremptorily against a Public School.
My parents had a strong and just detestation of "private study" and its
products, and they revolved a great many schemes for avoiding it.
Suddenly my mother, who was not only the kindest but also the wisest
of mothers, bethought herself of making me a Home-boarder at Harrow.
She was one of those persons who, when once they are persuaded that a
certain course is right, do not let the grass grow under their feet, but act
at once. We did not desert our old home in Bedfordshire, and my father
had still his official residence in Speaker's Court; but my parents took a
house at Harrow, at the top of Sudbury Hill, and there we established
ourselves in September, 1867.
On the 4th of November in that year, Matthew Arnold, who was
contemplating a similar move, wrote to Lady de Rothschild:--"What
you tell me is very important and interesting. I think Lady Charles
Russell has a boy who, like my eldest boy, is an invalid, and I dare say
you will some time or other be kind enough to ascertain from her
whether the school life is at all trying for him, or whether she has any
difficulty in getting him excused fagging or violent exercises."
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The L.C.C., which placed this slab, made a topographical error.
James Wright, in his Compendious View of the late Tumults and
Troubles in this Kingdom (1683), says: "The Lord Russel ... was on the
day following, viz. Saturday the 21st of July, Beheaded in Lincoln's