confession and apology, the record tells us that
"William Snelling in his presentment for cursing is fined ten shillings
and the fees of court."

I will mention one other name among those of the Fathers of the medical
profession in New England. The "apostle" Eliot says, writing in 1647,
"We never had but one anatomy in the country, which Mr. Giles Firman,
now in England, did make and read upon very well."

Giles Firmin, as the name is commonly spelled, practised physic in this
country for a time. He seems to have found it a poor business; for, in a
letter to Governor Winthrop, he says, "I am strongly sett upon to studye
divinitie: my studyes else must be lost, for physick is but a meene
helpe."

Giles Firmin's Lectures on Anatomy were the first scientific teachings
of the New World. While the Fathers were enlightened enough to permit
such instructions, they were severe in dealing with quackery; for, in
1631, our court records show that one Nicholas Knopp, or Knapp, was
sentenced to be fined or whipped "for taking upon him to cure the
scurvey by a water of noe worth nor value, which he solde att a very
deare rate." Empty purses or sore backs would be common with us to-day
if such a rule were enforced.

Besides the few worthies spoken of, and others whose names I have not
space to record, we must remember that there were many clergymen who
took charge of the bodies as well as the souls of their patients, among
them two Presidents of Harvard College, Charles Chauncy and Leonard
Hoar,--and Thomas Thacher, first minister of the "Old South," author of
the earliest medical treatises printed in the country,[A Brief Rule to
Guide the Common People in Small pox and Measles. 1674.] whose epitaph
in Latin and Greek, said to have been written by Eleazer, an "Indian
Youth" and a member of the Senior Class of Harvard College, may be found
in the "Magnalia." I miss this noble savage's name in our triennial
catalogue; and as there is many a slip between the cup and lip, one is
tempted to guess that he may have lost his degree by some display of his
native instinct,--possibly a flourish of the tomahawk or scalping-knife.
However this may have been, the good man he celebrated was a notable
instance of the Angelical Conjunction, as the author of the "Magnalia"
calls it, of the offices of clergyman and medical practitioner.

Michael Wigglesworth, author of the "Day of Doom," attended the sick,
"not only as a Pastor, but as a Physician