years after the invention of printing; but Vesalius and the anatomists who followed him put an end among thoughtful men to this belief in the missing rib, and in doing this dealt a blow at much else in the sacred theory. Naturally, all these considerations brought the forces of ecclesiasticism against the innovators in anatomy.[1]
A new weapon was now forged: Vesalius was charged with dissecting a living man, and, either from direct persecution, as the great majority of authors assert, or from indirect influences, as the recent apologists for Philip II admit, he became a wanderer: on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, apparently undertaken to atone for his sin, he was shipwrecked, and in the prime of his life and strength he was lost to the world.
And yet not lost. In this century the painter Hamann has again given him to us. By the magic of Hamann's pencil Vesalius again stands on earth, and we look once more into his cell. Its windows and doors, bolted and barred within, betoken the storm of bigotry which rages without; the crucifix, toward which he turns his eyes, symbolizes the spirit in which he labors; the corpse of the plague-stricken beneath his hand ceases to be repulsive; his very soul seems to send forth rays from the canvas, which strengthen us for the good fight in this age.[2]
He was hunted to death by men who conscientiously supposed that he was injuring religion: his poor, blind foes destroyed one of religion's greatest apostles. What was his influence on religion? He substituted, for the repetition of worn-out theories, a conscientious and reverent search into the works of the great Power giving life to the universe; he substituted for representations of the human structure—pitiful and unreal—representations revealing truths most helpful to the whole human race.[3]
The death of this champion seems to have virtually ended the contest. Licenses to dissect soon began to be given by sundry popes to universities, and renewed at intervals of from three to four years, until the Reformation released science from this yoke.
- ↑ As to the supposed change in the number of teeth, see the Gesta Philippi Augusti Francorum Regis, . . . descripta a magistro Rigordo, 1219, edited by Father Francis Duchesne, in Historiæ Francorum Scriptores, torn, v, Paris, 1649, p. 24. For representations of Adam created by the Almighty out of a pile of dust and of Eve created from a rib of Adam, see the earlier illustrations in the Nuremberg Chronicle.
- ↑ The original painting of Vesalius at work in his cell, by Hamann, is now at Cornell University.
- ↑ For a curious example of weapons drawn from Galen and used against Vesalius, see Lewes, Life of Goethe, p. 343, note. For proofs that I have not overestimated Vesalius, see Portal, ubi supra. Portal speaks of him as "le génie le plus droit qu'eut l'Europe"; and again, "Vesale me parait un des plus grands hommes qui ait existé." For the use of the charge that anatomists dissected living men—against men of science before Vesalius's time—see Littré's chapter on Anatomy.
