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            TRIBUTE

                     TO THE

               MEMORY

                      OF



   Late Health Commissioner of the City of New-York, &c.

            BEING A DISCOURSE PRONOUNCEI)

                 BY HIS FRIEND

   HENRY WILLIAM DUCACHET, M. lfc

            On Monday, January 6th, 1823,

By Order of the Medico-Chirurgical Society of New-York,

           AND PUBLISHED BT THEIR REQ.UEST.
        NEW- YORK:

PRINTED BY T. AND J. SWORDS,
       No. 99 Pearl-street.


1823. 
Wz
 IDD

 I? A3 
  At a stated meeting of the Medico-Chirurgical
Society of the State of New-York, held at the College
of Physicians and Surgeons, on Saturday, December 7,
1822, the following preamble and resolutions were una-
nimously adopted:—
  Whereas the Society have received the painful intel-
ligence of the death of their esteemed associate Jacob
DVCKMAN,  M. D.
  Resolved, That a respectful notice of his decease be
recorded upon the  minutes; and  that the members of
the Society be requested to wear the usual badge of
mourning during thirty days.
  Resolved, That a  discourse,  commemorative  of his
distinguished  worth, be pronounced by a member of
this body;  and that Henry William Ducachet,  M. D*
be requested to perform this duty.
  Resolved, That in token of our high respect for the
memory of our deceased fellow-member,  the proceed-
ings of  this meeting be suspended, and the Society ad-
journed.
   Further resolved,  That the  foregoing resolutions be
published in two of the daily papers of this city, and
in one of the public papers of the  county of Westches-
ter; and further, that they be attested by the signatures
of the President and Secretary.
              JOHN W. FRANCIS, M. D. President.
O. M. Richards, Secretary. 
 
                New-York, January 14th,  1823.
Dear Sir,
           We  have been appointed a committee
of the Medico-Chirurgical Society,  to return to
you their thanks for the able and eloquent manner in
which  you discharged the duty assigned you;  and
to request that you  will further comply with their
wishes, by furnishing to us the manuscript of your
Eulogium  of Dr.  Dyckman  for  publication.
Please accept the assurances of our respect,  and of
the high consideration with which we remain,
           Dear Sir,
                Your obedient Servants,
             F. G. KING,        \
             G. M. RICHARDS, V Committee,
              J. W. VETHAKE, )
Henry W. Ducachet, JM.  D.



To Messrs. F. G. Kinc,      }
           G. M. Richards, > Committee, &e.
           J. W. Vethake, )
                New-York,  January 14th, 1823.
Gentlemen,
           I have received the note in  which
you so politely inform me of the resolutions of the
Medico-Chirurgical Society, respecting the Eulogy
of Dr. Dyckman.   Although it  was written very 
C  6   )
hastily, and without any idea that the Society would
consider  it worthy  of  publication,  I cheerfully
comply with your request.   Trusting that  it will
meet with the  indulgence which the  repeated evi-
dences it  exhibits of  hurry  and  immaturity are
calculated to secure,  I shall,  as soon as I shall have
made a few corrections in the manuscript, deliver it
into your hands.
           You  will please assure the Society of
my sensibility to the honour they have  been pleased
to confer upon me;  and  accept for yourselves indi-
vidually the assurances  of my personal considera-
tion and regard.
           Gentlemen,
             I am respectfully,
                Your obedient Servant,
                  HENRY W. DUCACHET. 
PREFACE.
\
ALTHOUGH the following Discourse was writ-
ten in the short space of a few hours, and without
any view to its publication,  I knew not how to re-
fuse the request of the Society.  I am very sensible
that it cannot bear the scrutiny of the critic,  how-
ever kindly  disposed  he might  be to overlook its
faults.   The haste in which it was written may be
a reasonable apology for the imperfections of a dis-
course at the time of its delivery, and yet may not,
perhaps, be received as a valid excuse for its defici-
encies when printed.  I shall not, therefore, bespeak
indulgence  on  that account, as it may very justly
be  replied,  that it might have been improved and
corrected for the press.
  It would be an affectation of humility  in me to
say, that I  am not deeply sensible  of the honour
done me by the Society in requesting a copy of the
Discourse for publication.   I confess, I consider it
a high honour, and that their resolutions have had
very considerable influence in determining me to
publish it.   Yet, I hope it will not be considered 
C  8   )
 as a slight to the members of that respectable body
 to declare, that my principal design in printing this
 Discourse, is to contradict the unaccountable mis-
 representations  of it which are circulated  to my
 injury,  and to the discredit of the memory of my
 departed friend. Personal allusions have been found
 where none were intended;  and in several instances
 my remarks  have been  misapplied.   In  justice to
 myself, therefore, it is proper, perhaps, that it should
 be published; and, in fairness, it ought to be printed
 as it was delivered.  With a few unimportant verbal
 alterations, I submit it to public perusal, exactly as
 it was originally written;  hoping that in this expla-
 nation a sufficient apology will be found for my ap-
parent temerity in publishing it with  all its imper-
 fections. 
ADDRESS*
Gentlemen of the Society^

DEATH is a monster which appals the stout-
est hearts.   The soldier,  fearless of the battle^
and  emulous  of danger, trembles  at  his ap-
proach.  The poor, dejected outcast of fortune,
who has lived a life of indigence and penury,
who is deprived of every comfort which renders
life desirable,   and stripped of every hope of
improving  his  condition, is still unwilling to
part with the burden which oppresses him, and
to bury his  sorrows with himself in the grave*
The wretched  victim of disease, who spends
his days  and nights in complaints and groans,
and calls upon death to relieve him of his pain;
even he  prefers the lingering of torture to the
repose of the  grave^ and is reluctant  to resign
that life which is agonized by  the very inspira-
tions that prolong it.  It is indeed no wonder
that  the  man  who has lived  a life which his
conscience  condemns, and has no ground of
consolation  in  death, should  be dismayed in
                     2 
(  io  )
that appalling hour.   If he looks back, a long
life spent in sins which are soon to appear as
swift witnesses against him, strikes terror into
his soul: if he dare look forward, the grave, the
bar of judgment, and the  regions of despair,
appear in terrific plainness to his view:  he is
even afraid to look up for mercy, for his eyes
must meet the countenance of that God whom
he has offended, and who is soori to sit in judg-
ment upon his soul.  He knows that he must
shortly close his eyes upon the world in despair;
that as he passes through the dark valley of the
shadow of death, the  ghosts of his former sins
Will encounter him at every step; and that per-
haps the unhappy spirits of the former compa-
nions of his guilt will meet hittl, to apprize him
of the terrors and the torments which await
him.  It is then no Wonder that he should be
afraid to die*   Bat even the good  man, who
has no such terror* to alarm  him; who, invigor-
ated by faith, looks at  death as the termination
of all his anxieties and cares, and as the har-
binger of a rnore glorious and happy life, where
the Wicked cease from troubling, and the weary
are at rest; even he feels an instinctive abhor-
rence of  dissolution.   But what is  it makes
death so unwelcome and terrific ?  The dread
uncertainty of the untried scenes to which he is
soon to be introduced, the consciousness of be-
ing unprepared for the scrutiny he must under- 
(  11  )
go, and the tremendous retribution he is to re-
ceive, are all calculated to fill a man with hor-
ror at the view of death.   But all men are not
sq philosophical as, in tbeir dying moments, to
enter into speculations about the unknown re-
gions which their disembodied spirits are to irv
habit; all men have not even so much sense of
religion as to think of the tremendous judgment
to which death is to introduce them; and some
can contemplate this awful event with comfort
and with hope: yet, all men are afraid to die,
or, at least, feel some abhorrence at the thought.
There must be, then, some instinctive principle,
which, apart from all reflections upon the conse-
quences of death) operates universally upon the
minds of men, and makes  them sorrowful at this
dread event.  But what is it ?  It is the dreadful
thought of  being forgotten !   Eternal oblivion
has  terrors  for the mind,  which make it prefer
the pains and languishing of sickness, the sad
reverses of fortune, and  all the accumulated
troubles of life, to the dread  event which will
terminate them  all.  To be forgotten in death
by those  who knew and loved us in life—O,  it
is a  thought  at which the mind revolts.  AFl
 men are conscious of this feeling;  and nature,
 in kind indulgence to  the weakness, has im-
planted in our breasts a sympathy which makes
 us gather around the couch of the dying, and
 assure them by our tears  that they  shall not be 
(  12  )
forgotten.  The funeral customs of all nation*
have arisen from this principle. It is this which
kindles the funeral  pile, and preserves the be-
loved  ashes of the  venerated dead; it is  this
which  furnishes  the costly spices and the rich
perfumes, to preserve from destruction the form
which  we have loved; it is this which collects
the sympathizing company  at the obsequies of
the dead, and chants the solemn requiem; it is
this which erects the stately mausoleum, plants
the humble head-stone, and  speaks the praises
6f departed worth; it is this, my friends, which
has assembled us to-day.  Death has come in
among us, and snatched away from our midst
one whom we loved, and whom we cannot be
persuaded to forget.  We have assembled  to
pay the becoming tribute of  respect to his mer
mory,  and to  commemorate his Worth  Im-
pressed with the solemnity of the occasion, and
conscious of my inadequacy to the task assigned
me,  nothing could have induced me to accept
it but your positive command.   The character
of my  deceased  friend does indeed deserve a
eulogy ; (never shall my heart cease to feel the
throb of friendship,  or my tongue to speak his
praises;) but I  could  wish that his  virtues and
his worth had been celebrated on this occasion
by some  more competent eulogist.  But confi-
dent that the outlines of such  a character as his
however rudely or imperfectly sketched, cannot 
(  13  )
fail to excite your admiration, and that I have
nothing to apprehend from that censorious spirit
which  would  criticise with severity the  hasty
effusion of friendship, I proceed to the affecting
duty which  you have  assigned me.
   Jacob Dyckman was born of highly respect-
able parentage, at Yonkers, Westchester  coun-
ty, in  the state of New-York, on the first of
December,  1788.  His early years,  spent as
they were in the retirement and obscurity  of the
country, furnish no remarkable incidents for the
narrative of the biographer.  Yet it can hardly
be supposed  that a mind such as  his did not
develop some prominent feature, even in the
days of his childhood; and especially as he was
always  the subject of praise  among his acr
quaintance, and  of ambitious hope among his
friends.  Without possessing that  vivacity of
spirits, or that sprightliness of remark,  which
are frequently the indications of infant genius,
there is said  to  have been something peculiar
in his deportment, and pointed in his conversa-
tion,  which, at a very early period, excited in
the bosoms of his friends a hope that he was
destined to be no ordinary man.   Accordingly
he was  sent to the city, to be prepared for his
entrance into  college.  After receiving a very
complete and solid preparation at a grammar-
school, he was admitted into Columbia College
in the year  1806.  Although he did not possess 
(  I*  )
that flippancy which often passes for brilliancy
of parts, and obtains for a young man a rank
above his fellows who are in reality possessed
of more capacity and solidity of mind, he main-
tained,  during the whole period of his collegi-
ate studies,  a  highly respectable station in his
class.  There  was not in him any of that frivo-
lity of character which leads young men to en-
gage  in  the fashionable amusements  of life;
and he was too strongly fortified by principle to
be led into dissipation.   It is no wonder, then,
that  he should surpass  many of his collegiate
associates, who trifled away the time which he
devoted to study, in the pursuits of pleasure or
the haunts  of dissipation.  He graduated in
the year 1810,  after passing through  all the
classes of that  excellent institution.  The study
of medicine presented itself to  him with pecu-
liar attractions.  Indeed the choice was a very
natural one for him; as the profession of medi-
cine affords an extensive field  for the exercise
of those benevolent dispositions which he pos-
sessed in so eminent  a  degree,  without expos-
ing one to the anxieties and turmoils of public
life,  or  requiring many sacrifices of that  diffi-
dence which formed so prominent a feature in
his character.
  Shortly after his graduation  in the  arts, he
commenced the study of medicine under the
pupilage of Dr. Hosack.  I need  hardly tell 
(  15  )
you of his character  as a student:  there is an
almost infallible connexion between distinction
in life and  diligence in  the term of pupilage.
Seldom, very seldom does it  happen  that an
indolent student, or a conceited coxcomb, who
imagines  that he has natural  talents sufficient
to supersede the necessity of industry, becomes
a distinguished, or even respectable, physician.
A man's professional character is generally de-
termined  by the habits he acquires in the office
of his preceptor; and should  such a one as  I
have just described succeed in life, so as to ac-
quire any degree of repute, he is  regarded by
the discerning portion of the community only
as the despicable creature of artifice, or as the
spoiled brat of chance.   But very seldom in-
deed does it occur, notwithstanding the preca-
riousness and inconstancy of medical reputa-
tion,  that a diligent student does not become a
skilful and celebrated practitioner.   I can well
remember the  impression that  was produced
upon my mind when I first entered the office of
Dr. Hosack, upon  hearing the  character uni-
versally ascribed to Dr, Dyckman.  He was held
up as a pattern of diligence  in his studies, of
propriety in his deportment in the office, and
as an example in all  respects worthy of imita-
tion.   From the character he  then held, every
one  augured his future usefulness and distinc-
tion;  In the spring of 1813 he received the ho 
C  16  )
nours of the doctorate, in one of the early classes
that were graduated  in  the  newly organized
College of Physicians  and Surgeons.   On his
public examination, he presented and defended
an  Inaugural  Thesis on the  Pathology of the
Human Fluids; a production which, afterwards
revised and enlarged, laid the foundation of his
professional fame, and is destined to be remem-
bered as a work of standard excellence on the
subject of which it treats.
  Immediately after hi3 graduation he was ap-
pointed  one of the Physicians of the City  Dis-
pensary, a situation  which, at  that time,  was
not to be obtained by the influence of family
connexions, or by acquiescence in a contract-
ed and  mercenary policy.  Dr. Dyckman  was
then an  obscure young  man, without friends
to urge his claims, or to exert their influence in
his behalf.  He continued to discharge the ar-
duous duties of this charity for  several years 3
and  at last resigned his situation,  partly, as
he told  me,  through disgust at the  conduet
which he witnessed in the institution, and partly
in consequence of increased demands upon
his time by the duties of a more important of-
fice.   The literary labours in which he was en-
gaged at this period, I shall at present omit to
mention, as they will hereafter  be noticed in
detail.   It must suffice to remark  here,  that
amidst the almost incessant occupation of his 
(  n  )
time by the duties of the Dispensary, he still
found leisure for study, and for authorship.   It
is often wondered at that physicians, whose time
is so constantly employed,  and whose leisure,
one would suppose, was rendered unfit for study
by  the fatigues and labours of professional duty,
should find time enough to become  authors.
However paradoxical it may appear, it is a re-
markable fart, that the most voluminous writers
on the science of medicine have generally been
men of great and extensive practice, who have
been  forced to snatch their  opportunities  for
writing  in  the hurried intervals  of business.
 Whether they thus seek relief from  the incessant
 anxieties to which the occurrences of business
 and  the scenes of practice  expose them, or
 whether it be the result of some inexplicable
 anomaly of the  mind; it is a fact attested by
 the history of almost every celebrated medical
 author.
    In the year 1819 Dr. Dyckman was appointed
 the  Surgeon of the New-York  Aims-House.
  This charity, although extensive in its character,
  presents, in consequence of its location beyond
  the limits of the city, and the peculiar descrip-
  tion of the objects of its bounty,  a very  limited
  field  for the cultivation or display of surgical
  dexterity.   During  Dr. Dyckman's attendance,
  however, several great and important cases oc-
  curred  in  the  institution, which gave  him an
                       3 
(  18   )
 opportunity of exhibiting that versatility of ta-
 lent, which can  familiarize itself to the knife
 without an exclusive attention to operative sur-
 gery.   From  the judgment and deliberation
 with which he conducted his operations, and
 the prudent dexterity which  he exhibited in
 their performance, there  is good reason to be-
 lieve, that when experience had given him a
 necessary confidence, and matured the dexter-
 ous talent he possessed, he would have become
 a highly respectable and skilful surgeon.  I say
 a surgeon, not supposing  that  he would have
 contented himself  with the mere mechanical
 adroitness of an operator.  He had  more libe-
 ral  views  of his  profession  than to  satisfy his
 mind with so grovelling an ambition.   He knew
 that expertness in the use of the knife may, by
 mere dint of practice, be  acquired by any one
 not unconquerably  stupid;  and that many  a
 man, who was intended by nature for nothing
 more than a clever mechanic, but who  has by
 an  unfortunate error loci become a member of a
 liberal  profession, may  make  a figure  in the
 theatre of a hospital.*

  *  No prejudices are more illiberal, or more deserving  of repre-
 hension, than those which are sometimes cherished by members of
 the same profession against each other, in consequence of their de-
 voting themselves to different branches of the science.  I hope,
 therefore,  that I shall not be suspected of indulging any pitiful
animosity against those who have chosen surgery as the department
*est  suited to their talents.  I consider an enlightened surgeon to 
(   19   )
   In the year 1821*  Dr. Dyckman was appoint-
ed to the office of Health  Commissioner.  This

be quite as respectable as a  physician; and intend my remarks to
apply to those only who think that surgery consists merely in am-
putating limbs, taking up arteries, &c. and hence practise it, not
as a liberal profession, but as a mechanical trade. At the same time,
I am free to confess it as my opinion,  that surgeons generally are
too apt to undervalue study,  and to attach an unmerited importance
to incessant and minute dissection  as the only means of acquiring
manual dexterity in operating. I believe that a student of medicine
can be much more profitably employed than  in the charnal-house;
and that if he spends his -whole pupilage in dissecting,  he will be
no better qualified to practise surgery at the completion of his term
than he was at its commencement.   And, after all, to perform the
highest operation of surgery, does  not require one half the intel-
lectual effort that is necessary for the judicious,  speedy, and suc-
cessful treatment of a fever, or a pleurisy.
  * The haste with which the Discourse was written caused  me to
forget several of the  most honourable incidents in the life of Dr
Dyckman, which should have been inserted here.  In the year 1819
he was commissioned by the Board of  Health of New-York to pro-
ceed to Philadelphia, for the purpose of investigating the nature
and origin of a pestilential fever which prevailed in a section of that
city.   He discharged this important duty with so much manly in-
dependence, so much professional discretion,  and so much satisfac-
tion to the public, that he was sent upon  a similar mission to Phi-
ladelphia in the succeeding year.  In the year 1821 he was elected
Recording  Secretary of the  New-York Literary and Philosophical
Society, an office which he held to the day of his death, with uni-
versal satisfaction to the members of that body. Nothing can show,
in a more convincing manner, the estimation in which he was held
by that learned society, than the fact, that a special committee has,
by their unanimous resolution, been appointed to prepare a biogra-
phical memoir  of him for publication in the next volume of their
Transactions. The respectability of the committee charged with
this duty, is an additional honour to his memory.  In 1822, in spite
of the  intrigues  which were used for a host of others, he was ap-
pointed by the honourable the Regents of the University, a Trustee
of the College of Physicians and Surgeons. 
C  20  )
 situation, as every other in the government, is
 generally conferred upon those who have most
 signalized themselves by a zealous devotion to
 the interests of the dominant  party.  Much as
 it is to be regretted that political considerations
 so often outweigh the claims of merit, the evil
 perhaps can hardly be avoided in a government
 like ours.  Gentlemen,  I retract the supposition.
 The evil can be, ought to be, avoided.   Were
 our rulers governed  by a higher and more ho-
 nourable  policy,  than  that of rewarding, by
 public favour, the sycophancy of their parasites
 and the clamorous importunity of their political
 adherents, we should no longer see men desti-
 tute of education,  of talents, and of character,
 who have neither professional merit nor public
 confidence,  preferred, on mere political consi-
 derations, to men who are the ornaments of the
 profession, and who would dignify any official
 station; we should no longer witness the triumph
 of persons of the very lowest professional stand-
 ing,  and experience the mortification of seeing
 men of distinguished abilities and worth, retiring
 from the inglorious competition, and contenting
 themselves  with  obscurity  and neglect;  we
 should not, as recently, have been shocked
 with the unfeeling  rapacity of the despicable
herd who,  before  the  body of our departed
friend had been deposited  in  the grave, were
 devising the means of succeeding to his office. 
(  21  )
 Pardon,  Gentlemen, the  warmth  of wounded
 friendship—but  I desist from a  development
 which would disgust and exasperate you.*
   It  does  not always  happen, however,  that
 even the rancorous leaders of a party are so far
 infatuated  by political  partialities, as to confer
 offices of high responsibility upon the most cla-
 morous individuals of the faction.  It will some-
 times happen,  even amidst the  turmoils and
 contentions of a  nomination caucus, that mo-
 dest merit  will attract attention.  Dr. Dyckman,
 firm and unwavering as he was in his political
 opinions, and valuing as he did the interests of
 the party to  which  he was attached, was not
 boisterous in proclaiming his sentiments, not
 bitter in  denouncing his political opponents, not
 violent enough  to be considered as a member
 deserving the rewards or the notice of the party.
 I  know  not  what influence may have been ex-

  • The very same reasons which induced me to suppress the dis-
 graceful transactions here alluded to at the time the Discourse was
 delivered, prevent me from disclosing them now.  I cannot, how-
 ever, but state, as an apology for the severity with which I have
 expressed myself, that attempts were made to supplant him during
 his last illness, when he was unable to vindicate himself from the
 insinuations  which were circulated to his discredit, with the view
 of causing his removal.  I have no objections to any honourable
 exertion to  obtain an office, but I abhor all mean and disgraceful
 tricks to effect any end whatever, and feel myself called upon by
 the occasion to denounce the infamous proceedings that were lately
 had recourse to, by certain men, to procure the office of Health
Commissioner. 
(  22  )
 erted in his favour by his political and personal
 friends; but knowing, as I do, that he was pre-
 ferred before some whose  political influence
 was far greater than his, and whose friends were
 more numerous and importunate than any he
 possessed, 1 have  always  considered  his  ap-
 pointment as the reward of  merit.
   By his appointment as Health Commissioner,
 he became, $x officio, a member of the Board
 of Health.  It is principally in seasons of pes-
 tilence that a member  of that body  has any
 opportunity of signalizing himself as a public
 officer.  No  sooner had the epidemic which
 lately desolated  the fairest portion of our city,
 made its appearance, than  the profession,  the
 board, and the public,  looked to Dr. Dyckman
 as their principal counsellor.  His medical asso-
 ciate in the commission  of health, by an unfor-
 tunate inadvertence which  the  most  experi-
 enced  might have  committed,  or,  perhaps,
 through the mischievous insinuations of jealousy
 and malice, lost, in a great  measure, the con-
 fidence of the  public.  Dr. Dyckman  at this
 time was labouring under a severe indisposition;
 yet, feeling the importance of his station, and
 animated  by a sense of duty, he scorned to
 evade by flight the responsibilities and the dan-
 gers of his office.  Contrary to the remonstrances
of his friends, he determined to remain in the
city,  and for some weeks spent his time alter- 
(  23  )
nately in his bed and at the sittings of the Board
of Health.  His feeble constitution, already un-
dermined  by a strong predisposition to pulmo-
nary disease, could not support the anxieties of
his mind, and his  unusual bodily exertions at
this period of terror and dismay. He was shortly
compelled  to request permission of the Board
to retire into the country to recruit his health.
He proceeded to the residence of his father, at
King's-Bridge—never to return. After lingering
for several  weeks,  exhausted by the hectic and
the cough of consumption, he died on Thurs-
day, the 5th of December last, with the com-
posure and the triumph of a Christian.
   It is impossible to contemplate the character
of Dr.  Dyckman without feelings  of  respect,
and even emotions of admiration.
   As a physician,  he was versed in the scien-
tific departments of his profession, not content-
ing himself with mere elementary knowledge,
but  ambitious of  becoming familiar with the
great masters  of the art.  He delighted in his
books,  and justly  merited the character of a
well-read physician. But he was not a mere
speculative  man,   versed in  the  doctrines of
the  schools,  and  unskilled in their  practical
application.   It was in  his admirable practical
sagacity that his  great  merit consisted.  Not
possessing naturally a remarkable quickness of
perception, he seemed to have oftentimes an 
(  24  )
 intuitive discernment,  which enabled  him to
 discover,  without the least apparent difficulty,
 the nature and seat of the case  before him.  I
 have often been surprised, while accompanying
 him in his visits, that a man so deliberate and
 prudent even in the  ordinary conversation of
 life, should be  able  to arrive at so speedy a
 judgment in a professional case as he frequently
 exhibited.  In his practice he was equally suc-
 cessful: judicious in the choice of his remedies,
 he was quick in his decisions, and  vigorous in
 their application.
  The success of his practice is the best eulogy
 that can be pronounced upon his professional
 skill.  I have often heard him speak of it as one
 of the  most  delightful  contemplations of his
 life, (and indeed have had constant opportuni-
 ties of verifying his assertions by personal know-
 ledge,)  that of the numerous cases of disease
 which presented themselves in the practice of
 the Dispensary,  where a physician  necessarily
 prescribes under many disadvantages, he lost so
 very few patients.  It is  no inconclusive  evi-
 dence of a physician's skill, that he should not
lose more than two or three patients out of the
 hundreds  that  annually fall  under his care,
 whose constitutions are broken down  by the
 a cumulated  miseries of poverty and  compli-
 cated disease, and who cannot procure even
 those  comforts of life which are indispensable 
(   25   )
 to the efficient operation of medicines,*   Gen-
 tlemen,  I do indeed  hold to  the  maxim,  de
 mortuis nil nisi bonum.  I think it contains a ten-
 derness of sentiment  which  every  honourable
 mind must  feel to be  congenial.   But I do not
 stand  before you to praise the dead at the ex-
 pense  of  truth; to  flatter the vanity of surviv-
 ing relatives;  or even  to indulge  the feelings of
 personal affection, which might prompt a higher
 eulogy of  my departed friend  than he justly de-
 serves.  1 appeal  to those of  you who  knew
 him,  whether I  speak  the language of extrava-
 gance  in  saying, that  he  was  one of the first
 practical physicians of his age in our city.


  * The success of medical treatment in the City Dispensary, con-
 sidering the circumstances of the patients generally prescribed for
 at that institution, is unparalleled, T believe, in the history of pub-
 lic charities.  During the last year only 54 have died out of 6961,
 who have been the subjects of prescription.  This fact, while it
 does great credit to the skill and faithfulness  of the physicians of
 that establishment, should arrest the attention of the community,
 and secure to it  a permanent and liberal support.  It is to be re-
 gretted, that while schemes for the accomplishment of remote and
 uncertain good command the iiberality of our citizens to an almost
 incredible amount, this invaluable institution,  in which every indi-
 vidual in  the  community is, in some manner,  interested, and the
 benefits of which are  seen and felt by all, should be suffered to
 languish  for want of patronage.  On a recent  occasion, an appeal
 from an  establishment obviously instituted, under the lure of &
specious but doubtful charity, for the advancement and emolument
 of certain individuals, was met with a promptitude and munificence
 worthy of a nobler object;  but the claims of the Dispensary, strong
 as they are upon  the benevolence of the community, are compara-
 tively disregarded-
                          4 
(  26  )
   But Dr. Dyckman  was not the mere  physi-
 cian.  He possessed a noble expansion of soul,
 which would not permit him to confine himself
 to the routine of practice.  He has justly attained
 no humble character as an author.  I claim not
 for him,  indeed, the veneration  that is  due to
 exalted genius, but the more enviable praise of
 being a useful and a practical writer. His style
 was  by no means splendid  or ambitious, but
 neat, perspicuous, and simple.
   His  first literary effort, " An Inaugural Dis-
sertation  on  the Pathology of  the Human
Fluids,"  would have done honour to the pen of
an older and  more experienced writer.   Time
would not permit, nor would the occasion allow
me to enter into a review of this excellent pro-
duction,  or into a defence of the humoral pa-
thology.  I cannot,  however, refrain from ob-
serving, (although, perhaps, I ought to be more
diffident  in speaking of subjects which belong
to a profession no longer my own,) that I have
always considered the present fashionable cla-
mour against the humoral pathology, as absurd
and ridiculous in the extreme.  I confess 1 can
see no reason why the fluids, or any  other part
of the  living system, should be  exempt from
disease.  I believe that there are many  disor-
ders, the symptoms of which are wholly  unac-
countable, unless ascribed to humoral impuri-
ties;  and many which cannot be cured but by 
(  27  )
directing the remedies to the fluids.  Physicians
are too much in the habit, in the present day,
of overlooking the vast and powerful agency of
the fluids in the animal economy: and of ascrib-
ing all its operations, morbid as well as natural,
to the action of the solids.   They are continu-
ally talking about healthy action, deranged ac-
tion,  morbid action^  peculiar action, sympa-
thetic action, irregular action, &c.  Action has
been  said  to be the first, and the second, and
the third,  and the  last requisite  of an orator:
and so, it  seems, action is to be every thing in
pathology  too.  But I desist.~The majority of
those who hear me are well acquainted with
the discordant theories  of the solidists and the
humoralists. Suffice it  to state, that Dr. Dyck-
man's Inaugural Thesis is a defence of the hu-
moral pathology in the modified form in which
it is taught, and  has for years been taught,  by
the distinguished  Professor of the  Practice of
Physic  in  this University.   Dr. Dyckman, as I
have  before said, was his pupil;  and fired with
the zeal of his preceptor, he boldly stepped for-
ward in the vindication of truth, at a time when
it could only be expected to 4raw down upon
him the ridicule and the condemnation of the
faculty.  The doctrine is  defended, however,
with  acknowledged dexterity;  and explained
with  a readiness and ingenuity which show him
to have been familiar with his subject.   In the 
(  28  )
judgment of the avowed opponents of the theory
it espouses, it displays more recondite research,
more dexterity of statement, more ingenuity of
argument, more plausibility of style and man-
ner, than almost any other production of the
kind.*
  Dr. Hosack is so intimately associated  with
every thing relating to this subject,  from his
having been the first to revive the doctrines of
the Boerhaavian school, that I would be guilty
of a palpable injustice, were I to withhold from
him the praise which is his due, for his early, and
constant, and able, and successful inculcation
of the Humoral Pathology.   At a time when
the fascinating  theory of Brow'n  became the
prevailing doctrine of our schools,  and the elo-
quence of Rush threatened to entail  upon our
country the  follies of that brilliant but delusive
system, Dr.  Hosack stood forth the advocate of
the  Humoral Pathology.   With  a judgment
singularly  happy,  he  divested it  of  many
inconsistencies and absurdities which had ren-
dered it offensive;  and demonstrated its  truth
by  the practical efficacy of its  principles and
precepts.  By the application of these in a  great
and extensive charity,  he has  commanded the
acquiescence  of admiring  crowds of pupils,
gained a popularity and reputation as  a teacher

  * See Philadelphia Journal of the Medipal and Physical Sciences,
vol. iv. p. 370. 
(  29  )
which are not soon to perish, and justly merited
the title of the American Boerhaave.
  I could not with propriety detain you with an
extended notice of Dr. Dyckman's  remaining
productions  It  must suffice  to state, that his
improved edition of  Duncan's Dispensatory,
published in the year 1818, is by far the best and
most  useful work  upon that subject.   His
monthly  reports of the diseases occurring in the
City Dispensary, published originally in the
Monthly  Magazine, and afterwards in the Lite-
rary Journal, evince a talent for close observa-
tion, and a judgment  in recording facts, which
would  not dishonour the masterly  reports of
Drs. Willan and Bateman.
  Several  fugitive productions of his pen are
preserved in the periodical journals of our coun-
try ; the  most  remarkable of  which are, an
Essay upon Adipocf.re, published in  the Trans-
actions of the New York Lyceum  of Natural
History;  and an anomalous  case of Surgery
which fell under his care.
  When  we consider the successful  manner in
which  Dr. Dyckman acquitted  himself on the
several occasions when he appeared  before the
public as an author,  we cannot but  regret that
he should have been prevented, by death, from
accomplishing a plan  which he had long enter-
tained,  of editing  Dr. Bateman's  admirable
work on  the Cutanei,  with notes and improve- 
(  30  )
 ments.   He  had  studied  cutaneous  disease*
 with great  minuteness  of attention,  with this
 special view;  and it is owing perhaps to his ex-
 cellent practical acquaintance with this obscure
 and intricate subject,  making him distrustful of
 himself on  account of the complicated difficul-
 ties which he  knew so well, that we have now
 to lament that this task was never undertaken.
 He had long had in contemplation a work upon
 the  vegetable  Materia  Medica of the  United
 States, and  had  made  very considerable pro-
 gress in the collection of materials towards it.
 He, however, had resolved that it  should be,
 as it ought  to  be, the labour of years.   Man
proposes,  but  God disposes.   Death  suddenly
interrupted  his labours, and leaves us another
instance  of  the uncertainty  of human  plans,
and the vanity of  human  hopes.*

  • He has left unfinished an Essay on Apparitions, the design of
which is to refer to a morbid condition of the sensorium, the sup-
posed supernatural visions of  which we have so many strange ac-
counts.  This paper is very comprehensive in its plan ; and, as he
had, for some time, made it a subject of study and reflection, there
is no doubt it would have been very interesting.  Whether this
theory is or is not the true one, or whether, as is most probable,
there is something unaccountably mysterious in many of these ap-
pearances, it  is  certain that they cannot satisfactorily be resolved
into the effects of mere superstition.  The theory espoused by Dr.
Dyckman will, no doubt,  explain most of these cases; perhaps his
ingenuity would have shown its complete application to them all.
 He was also about to prepare for publication a paper on the use of
 emetics  in convulsive and spasmodic diseases.   He had used them
very extensively in these cases; and informed me that he had found 
(   31   )
   In contemplating the character of Dr. Dyck-
 man  as a  literary man, and as an author, it is
 proper to  notice  his connexion  as  one of the
 editors of the New-York Medical and Physical
 Journal   He had long conversed, in the confi-
 dence of friendship,  with  a few  of  his  profes-
 sional intimates, on the subject of commencing
 a new periodical work in  this city,  devoted to
 the cultivation and diffusion of medical science.
 He  regretted that  this  extensive  metropolis,
 containing so large a number of physicians, and
 so strong a  body of  medical talent,  could not
 boast of  a  single respectable medical journal.*
 These repeated suggestions were finally matur-

 them speedily to resolve the most obstinate and alarming convul-
 sions. It is really  to be regretted, that his experience on this in-
 teresting subject should have been lost to the public.  It is but
justice that I shoulrl state, that Dr. Joseph M. Smith, of this city,
is entitled to the merit of having revived the attention of the pro-
 fession to the efficacy of emetics in these cases.  An excellent pa*
per on this subject, marked by an enviable experimental talent, and
 presenting the results of an extensive experience, was published by
 this gentleman some years ago, in the first volume of the Transac-
 tions of the  Physico-Medical Society of New-York.
  * There was indeed a medical journal still in existence at this
time but it had  degenerated so far from its former character,
that  it could no  longer be considered as any thing but the mere
 ghost of the work which had immortalized the names  of Miller
and of Mitchixl.   Instead of the youthful vigour for which it was
distinguished in the days of those able editors, it was now remark-
able only for feebleness, and petulance, and decrepitude, the natu-
ral concomitants of a premature old age induced by inanition and
intemperance.  It is now happily entirely defunct.  Its death would
have  been just matter of congratulation to the profession years
ago. 
C  32  )
ed into a plan, and gave rise to the New-York
Medical and Physical Journal.   Dr. Dyckman
zealously entered into the enlightened and lofty
views of the spirited gentlemen who projected
this work; and was proud to associate his name
as an editor with the names of men, who, though
only commencing life, had  justly acquired a
character for talents, and a literary reputation,
of which veteran cultivators of science might
have  been ambitious.   Under the auspices of
this able trio, the New-York  Medical and Phy-
sical Journal had attained  its fourth number,-—
triumphing  over difficulties  which threatened
to destroy it, and which would have discourag-
ed men less fitted  for the task;  pursuing a li-
beral,  yet independent policy,  which  recom-
mended it to the patronage and support of  the
united profession;  and promising  to surpass,
in celebrity and usefulness,  every similar pro-
duction in our country.   Judge  of the  loss it
sustains in the death of Dr. Dyckman.*
  Respectable as he was as a professional and
literary man, it is in  his personal  and private
character that he appears to highest advantage.
Professional distinction and literary reputation
may be attained by men  unamiable in the in-

  * The  surviving editors are Johw W. Francis, M. D. Professor
of Obstetrics in the University of New-York,  and John B. Beck,
M. D. Fellow of the College of Physicians and Surgeons. 
(  33  )
 tercourse of life, and not entitled to the least
 respect on account of their deportment or their
 virtues.   But never was  an individual  more
 truly amiable than was Dr. Dyckman  in his pri-
 vate virtues and manners.   Among those who
 knew him, 1 think 1 may truly say, his  suavity
 of disposition became almost proverbial: and
 by those who  were comparatively  strangers,
 this much at least of  him was known, that  he
 was a man of the  most remarkable urbanity of
 character.  Seldom in  my  long and familiar
 intercourse with him,  have I ever seen his pla-
 cid temper  disturbed by the  little irritating
 incidents which daily  occur to every man.  He
 seemed to regard them as unworthy of an emo-
 tion. Nor did  this amiableness proceed from
 an absence of  the delicate  sensibilities of an
 honourable  mind.  No man  was ever more
 sensitive to an indignity.   And although 1 have
 never known him  to indulge for a moment the
 predominance of angry feelings in his bosom,
 I have seen the glow of lofty indignation mantle
 upon his cheek, and have witnessed the gener-
 ous burst of feeling, when his honour has been
 wounded, the character of a friend assailed, or
 trje principles which he cherished wantonly im-
 pugned.   The  most of those who hear me are
 well acquainted with the fact,  that notwith-
standing Dr. Dyckman's remarkable  amiable-
ness of character, it was frequently his misfor-
                     5 
C  34  )
 tune to be involved in controversy.  A stranger
 to that disputatious temper which is ever ready
 to seek occasions for debate, his very amiable-
 ness brought him into contests.   There  are
 men who, with all their eagerness for contro-
 versy, are  loath  to  encounter  antagonists of
 any sturdiness of temper; and seek to provoke
 to opposition men whose mildness of character
 affords some probability of  a defeat by means
 of rude and impetuous assaults.   It was his mis-
 fortune to be assailed  by  several  such men.
 And although his amiable disposition could not
 be persuaded to proceed with deserved severity
 against the wanton disturbers of his character
 and his peace, we all know that be, in every
 instance,  succeeded in their defeat, and drove
 them humbled from the public view.   In a re-
 cent instance, fresh in the memory of us all, he
 most successfully detected and exposed an ex-
 ecrable conspiracy against  his  character by
 some of the hungry  expectants of his office;
 and  in a  most triumphant  manner  put  the
 miscreants to silence and to shame.   In ano-
 ther case, in which a gross and wanton attack
 was made  upon  his professional reputation,
 he evinced,  that  with all  his  constitutional
 amenity of temper, he was possessed of a spirit
 which was  not with  impunity  to  be  roused.
 With a firmness which awed into submission the
dastardly traducer of his character,  he extorted 
(   35  j
from him a public recantation,  and an honour-
able, though reluctant,  testimony to his  integ-
rity and his  worth.*
   Time would fail me to speak of all the virtues
of this estimable  character;  and to tell  you of
his  filial affection,  and  of his  excellence  in the
relations of a  brother and a friend.   O! there
was a tenderness in his friendship, which  I have
a thousand  times  experienced,  but  which  I
would in vain endeavour to describe.  Hear the
touching language of bereaved  affection bear-

  • It is really painful to  me to be under the necessity of adverting,
even  obscurely, to these unpleasant circumstances. Called upon as
I was to illustrate the life and character of Dr. Dyckman,  I should
not have felt myself justified in passing over these events  had they
even  issued in his discomfiture and disgrace.  Much less, then,
would I have deserved the name of his friend, had I timidly sup-
pressed circumstances so  creditable to his memory, and so strongly
illustrative of his character   I am aware that it may be said, that
these unpleasant allusions did not comport with the solemnity of
the occasion at which they were made.   I grant that they should
have  been avoided,  if possible;  but I can conceive of no occasion
that can annul the great and paramount obligation of speaking the
truth whenever it may be necessary.  If I have unnecessarily reviv-
ed the recollection of these unhappy occurrences, it has not been
with  any unkind feelings towards the surviving parties.  For al-
though I  have always abhorred their conduct, and shall, I trust,
never be afraid to express my disapprobation, I cherish towards
them no personal animosity, and have no intention of doing to them
the least injury.  Severe as is the language I have used, (and I am
willing to acknowledge  that it might with propriety have been
milder  than it is,) the reader would, I am  confident, excuse my
warmth could he fully know the circumstances which occasioned it
I feel that I have fulfilled the utmost requisitions of a charitable
forbearance, by suppressing their names, and thus preserving them
from public execration. 
(  36   )
?ng testimony to his worth:—" All  who  were
acquainted with the deceased will delight to
dw» II on the amenity of his disposition, and the
blameless  tenor of his life.  Remarkably free
from the malignant passions,  his heart was the
seat of generous feelings, and was ever alive to
the sensibilities of humanity.  In every sphere
in which  he moved, his  worth was confessed;
and in  every situation  to which private confi-
dence or public favour called him, his zeal and
assiduity  were incessant  and unwearied.  He
has left behind him many connected  by the
endearments of friendship: none who can deny
the benevolence of his  heart, or the purity of
his character."*
   Dr. Dyckman, in the days of his health, did
not view religion as the great and important
subject in which every man has a personal con-
cern superior to  every other interest.  So far as
a  becoming respect for  it was concerned,  he
was unexceptionable; and in the duties of mo-
rality generally, I  believe he was  as sincere,
as conscientious, and as irreproachable as any
man can be without the sanctifying influence of
religion.  He never made any religious profes-

  * New-York Medical and Physical Journal, vol. i. p. 523.  To
this editorial obituary notice of Dr. Dickmaw, marked by a beauty
of style, a loftiness of smtiment, and a tenderness of feeling,
highly creditable  to the work, I am indebted for several particu*
krs in the life of our friend. 
(  37  )
 sion, though  he was often heard to express a
 partiality for the Episcopal Church.  His fault
 on this great subject was, that he considered
 morality as the sum and substance of religion:
 and conscious of an irreproachable character
 on that score, he rested contented here.  But
 in his last days he obtained a truer view of the
 subject.   He  was enabled to discover that the
 high and holy law of God is the required stand-
 ard of morality, and  not  our own imperfect,
 and often erroneous, conceptions of duty.   He
 discovered, that however amiable and correctly
 moral  a  man may be in the estimation of the
 world, the best actions of his life,  and the no-
 blest efforts of his virtue,  fall far short of that
 exalted standard; and that, so far from having
 any ground of boasting of his morality, or of
 depending upon it as the means of his accept-
 ance with his Maker, the purest man has reason
 to be humbled at his imperfections, and to con-
 fess that his life has been far less pure than it
 ought  to  have been.   I would  not be under-
 stood  as  decrying  or undervaluing morality
 without  religion; even  this unsanctioned  mo-
 rality is amiable in  itself,  and is productive of
 unquestionable  benefit to  society.  But I  con-
 tend that it does not, and cannot, from its very
nature, claim  the favour of God,  or entitle its
possessor to the  rewards and happiness of a fu-
ture state.   The lamentable depravity of  man 
(  38  )
 even in his best estate, and the utter impossibi-
 lity of his conciliating the favour of God by any
 moral excellence  of which he is capable, is a
 truth which discovered itself to the philosophers
 of heathen antiquity, and which  derives con-
 firmation  from the  religious practices of every
 people.  It was this which gave rise to the sa-
 crifices of the  Mosaic law, under which, in ty-
 pical anticipation of the great atonement which
 was  in the fulness of time to be made for the
 world, the  blood of bulls and of goats was shed
 for the expiation of sin.  And sacrifices of some
 description or  other have always been a part of
 religion,  even  among those whom the light of
 revelation has  never reached.  Accordingly we
 find them, under the consciousness of being ob-
 noxious to the  judgments of the offended Deity,
 devising a thousand means of appeasing his ven-
 geance, and of propitiating his favour.  We see
 the deluded subject of a sanguinary superstition,
 offering up in  sacrifice the fruit of his body for
the sin of his soul; torturing himself with all the
 cruelties  his ingenuity can devise, in satisfac-
tion for his offences; and giving his very life as
 an expiation for its frailties.  The shocking tri-
umphs of the  car of Juggernaut,  the  Moloch
that  now holds a  bloody and  execrable sway
over the benighted regions of the East;  the
emaciated  pilgrims who, in numberless multi-
tudes,  press to this worship of the powers  of 
                  C  39  )

darkness; the  austere  and toilsome penance
thev endure; the remorseless spirit of their hom-
age; and the cruel rites which they perform to
propitiate the  obscene and  odious  monster
which they worship; all proclaim the truth, that j
man cannot, by any moral efforts  of his own,
deserve the favour of his God.  It has pleased
God, however, to provide for man an efficient
and prevailing  sacrifice for sin; by which guilt
may be removed,  and  an acceptable  satisfac-
tion offered for his imperfect obedience  I re-
gret  that I have  not  been able to obtain any
particular information  as to the experiences of
Dr. Dyckman's mind  on these great points, as
they would,  no doubt, have afforded matter for
interesting and edifying reflection on this occa-
sion.   It must  suffice to state, that he was en-
abled to discern  in the death and sacrifice of
Christ, his Saviour, an appropriate and complete
salvation; to enjoy, through him, that rapturous
communion with  God, which it is sometimes
the privilege of the dying Christian to experi-
ence as  the  foretaste  and the pledge of that
fuller glory upon which he is soon to enter; and
to view7 the grave, not as the dreary bed of anni-
hilation,  or as the vestibule of the  dungeons of
eternal misery, but as the consecrated gate of the
paradise of God, beyond which life and immor-
tality appear, in ravishing perspective, to the eye
of faith.   After enjoying the assurance of for- 
(  40  )
given sin, and triumphing in the  faith of the
Gospel of Christ, his spirit was  summoned to
the world of glory, to join, we  trust,  the an-
thems of the blest, and to receive the inherit-
ance of the redeemed of the Lord.   Let me
die the  death  of the  righteous,  and may my
last end be like his.
1HE END.
* 
 
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