SIR KENELME DIGBY, F.R.S.

HEREAS, upon the mediation of her Majesty the Queen of France, it hath pleased both Houses of Parliament to permit me to go

into that kingdom, in humble acknowledgment of their favour therein, and to observe and confirm a good opinion of my zeal and honest intentions to the honour and welfare of my country, I do here, upon the faith of a Christian and the word of a gentleman, protest and promise that I will neither directly nor indirectly negotiate, promote, consent unto, or conceal any practice or design prejudicial to the honour or safety of the Parliament. And, in witness of my reality herein, I have hereunto subscribed my name this third day of August, 1643.

"KENELME DIGBY."

The "deed of honour" given in the above paragraph is characteristic in full of its author, of the time in which he lived, and of his social position and character at the moment when the document was sealed, signed, and delivered. He had been for some months confined in prison at Winchester House, by order of the Houses of Parliament, for having, at the instigation of the queen

of Charles I., taken part with Sir Walter Montague and other Royalists in persuading the Roman Catholic community to raise a subscription army for the King in support of his defence against the troubles that were close upon him. The scheme, to a considerable extent, succeeded in so far as the contribution of money was concerned; but it was very far from being a success politically and socially. The kingdom at the moment was Puritan in heart, and was, of all things, resolute that neither Pope nor Cardinal should tithe or toll in its dominions; and the army that was raised by the money of the papal adherents who were friends of the King got the name of the "Popish Army," as bad a title as could be applied to it in the tone, then, of the national mind. The Parliament, consequently, had seized Sir Kenelme as one of the promoters of the new device of a force that might be soon arrayed against itself and the liberties of the people, and in 1640 it subjected him to question as to the reason of his conduct and the extent of his action. From what ultimately transpired we may gather that the members of the Parliamentary committee who were concerned in the inquiry were struck by the candour of the man who was brought before them. He despised every kind of subterfuge or evasion. He told them clearly what it was he had done and why he had done it; and for a time he was left free. But when, somewhat later on, the civil war commenced in earnest, the courageous and in many ways powerful knight was laid hands upon and committed, as we have seen, to confinement. From this he was liberated, at the date named in his letter, on a request to the Parliament Houses from the Queen Dowager of France, communicated to them by the Sieur de Gressy, on the condition that the prisoner

signed a declaration, such as he did sign, pledging his good faith that he would do nothing prejudicial to the honour and safety of the Parliament.

Readers who are not conversant with the life and character of a man in the position of an opponent to Parliamentary government in 1643, a knight raising forces for a king, and a friend, obviously, of a ruler in another country, will wonder how such a man can be brought into a history of medical scholars. Was he, Kenelme Digby, a physician or a surgeon? In the strictest sense he was neither, for he took no university nor other title bearing, classically, on medical or surgical art. He was really a fighting man by land and by sea; he was a politician on the side of royalty; and he was independent of any professional ties, except in arms and politics. And yet, like many others, he is bound to our brotherhood by more than one act bearing on medical and surgical art. To the learning and diplomatic skill which were natural to him, and in which he excelled most markedly in the eyes of his cotemporaries, he added a love for natural philosophy, and made, thereupon, some additions to philosophical medicine which hold their influence even to the present day. It has been said of him, rather despitefully, that he was a leech," by which term knights who took part in the treatment and cure of the wounded in battle were often known. In old days, when the licence to kill or cure was not demanded by law, these leeches were free to practise, and were very free in suggesting lines of practice of the boldest type, in which labour they often rendered excellent service. Sir Kenelme Digby was an illustrious representative of this order of generally useful men, pioneers of Science in her practical applications.

FROM CHILDHOOD TO MANHOOD.

The childhood of the man now before us is one of sad and painful romance. When he was three years of age, his father, Sir Everard Digby, suffered death on the gallows, and was, to use the common phrase, "hanged, drawn, and quartered," at the west end of Old St. Paul's in London. This tragical act was performed for his having taken part in the treason of Gunpowder Plot, a scheme for wholesale destruction of King, Lords, and Commons, that resembled closely the dynamite plots of the present day. Sir Everard had no actual part in the details of this miserable scheme, but, on his own admissions, during and after his trial, he entered into the idea of it at first, received the notorious Guy Fawkes at his house, and, for a time after his own seizure, persistently refused to give up the names of the other conspirators. At his trial he pleaded guilty, assigning for the reason of his guilt the argument that it was the duty of a true Catholic to attempt, at all risks and hazards, to restore the true faith to the English nation. When the judges had condemned him, he bowed to them, observing, "If I could hear any one of your lordships say you forgave me, I should go the more cheerfully to the gallows," to which they all replied, "God forgive you, and we do." Our old friend Wood, to whom all writers on biographical events occurring in or about his own time are so much indebted, reports respecting the death of Sir Everard that when the executioner plucked out the heart of his victim and, according to custom, cried to the people, "Here is the heart of a traitor," Sir Everard replied, "Thou liest."

The fate of the father was not reflected in any way on the son whose life is now before us. Little Kenelme

was the eldest child of Sir Everard, and had one brother, John, who, like himself, afterwards rose to great fame. The boys at the time of their father's death were with their mother, Mary Digby, née Mary Mulsho, at Gothurst, in Buckinghamshire, where the family lived on an estate which had descended to Lady Digby from her father, William Mulsho. The birthday of Kenelme was June 11th, 1603. His mother was not for long allowed to retain him by her side, for she too was suspected to be of "Popish belief," and the child must needs be taken from her, made to accept the new or Protestant creed, and placed under the tuition and care of Laud, then Dean of Gloucester, afterwards doomed to die on the scaffold as the renowned Archbishop and assumed traitor to the Commonwealth. The family estate remained to the boy, who, under the care of Laud, became rapidly a scholar of first promise. He grew up in health and of robust form; and in his fifteenth year was entered as a gentleman commoner at Gloucester Hall, Oxford. He remained in college, the admiration of his tutor and fellow-students, nearly three years, and then setting forth on his travels abroad, made the famous round of France, Spain, and Italy, became "italianated" as the saying went, and returned home accomplished in all the arts and sciences of his time. It was in this journey he learned what has been considered the grand secret that connects his name with medicine; and, soon after his return, whilst staying at Lord Montague's house at Hinchinbrooke, he was introduced to the King, James I., who, forgetting his father's delinquencies or, more correctly speaking, overlooking them, and admiring the abilities of the son, conferred on Kenelme the order of knighthood in the year 1623.