ot have used their powers of observation for
themselves, but should have been following old-time masters. His
contemporaries often refuse to listen to him at first. His observations,
however, eventually make their way. We blame the Middle Ages for
following authority, but what have we been always doing but following
authority, except for the geniuses who come and lift us out of the rut
and illuminate a new portion of the realm of medicine. After they have
come, however, and done their work, their disciples proceed to see with
their eyes and to think that they are making observations for themselves
when they are merely following authority. When the next master in
medicine comes along his discovery is neglected because men have not
found it in the old books, and usually he has to suffer for daring to
have opinions of his own. The fact of the matter is that at any time
there is only a very limited number of men who think for themselves. The
rest think other people's thoughts and think they are thinking and doing
things. As for observation, John Ruskin once said, "Nothing is harder
than to see something and tell it simply as you saw it." This is as true
in science as in art, and only genius succeeds in doing it well.

Chauliac's book is confessedly a compilation. He has taken the good
wherever he found it, though he adds, modestly enough, that his work
also contains whatever his own measure of intelligence enabled him to
find useful (_quae juxta modicitatem mei ingenii utilia reputavi_).
Indeed it is the critical judgment displayed by Chauliac in selecting
from his predecessors that best illustrates at once the practical
character of his intellect and his discerning spirit. What the men of
his time are said to have lacked is the critical faculty. They were
encyclopedic in intellect and gathered all kinds of information without
discrimination, is a very common criticism of medieval writers. No one
can say this of Chauliac, however, and, above all, he was no respecter
of authority, merely for the sake of authority. His criticism of John of
Gaddesden's book shows that the blind following of those who had gone
before was his special _bete noir_. His bitterest reproach for many of
his predecessors was that "they follow one another like cranes, whether
for love or fear, I cannot say."

Chauliac's right to the title of father of surgery will perhaps be best
appreciated from the brief account of his recommendations as to the
value