The Anatomy of Deception - Lawrence Goldstone [73]
“Calvin ordered all the copies destroyed, but kept his own?”
“Apparently. Evidence that the Edinburgh copy was Calvin’s is indisputable.”
“How did it get to Edinburgh?”
The Professor shrugged. “No one is quite sure, although it seems to have come through the Marquess of Queensbury.”
“As in the rules for pugilism?”
“The same family, although I am uncertain as to who specifically acquired the volume or under what circumstances.”
“Quite a tale,” I said.
“More than that, Carroll. I’m drawn to Servetus. He was a Spaniard by birth. Brilliant … a prodigy. He was a theologian, a geographer, and a linguist, in addition to his medical skills. He spent his life searching for truth and was guided strictly by the dictates of his own conscience. He cared nothing for the judgment of others. His great heresy, according to Calvin, was the belief that God exists in all men. No one in European or American history more epitomizes the struggle for freedom of thought.”
“You feel kindred to Servetus?” I asked. “I have never thought of you as heterodox.”
“We all fight ignorance with truth, Carroll,” he replied, “and conscience is our only guide.”
“Do you not believe in Scripture, then?”
“Of course I do. God’s word must always be paramount. But all too often, I’m afraid, theologians interpret God’s word based on their own prejudices … and sometimes with more sinister motives. Can there be any more telling example than the resistance to our work? Think of that dolt, Reverend Squires, trying to prohibit autopsy. And think of the reaction to the writings of Darwin. Evolution is evidence of God’s wonder, not blasphemy … and where does it say in the Bible that Man should not attempt to learn about the workings of the body? No, Carroll, it is individual conscience that provides our most reliable guidepost.”
“My pastor, Reverend Powers, agrees with you.”
“An enlightened man.”
“He is that. But why is Servetus not better known?”
“He is something of an underground figure in Europe,” the Professor went on. “I came across some articles when I was in Germany and have been pursuing his story ever since. Servetus was terribly flawed, but deserved much better from society. Flaws of personality must be overlooked in those who could bring such benefit to the world.”
With the Professor in such an expansive mood, I decided to explore his views of another rebel. “Dr. Osler,” I asked, “what do you think of Thomas Eakins?”
“‘The Portrait of Professor Gross’? Very realistic rendition, as far as it goes. He is doing a similar depiction of Agnew, I believe.”
“Do you know anything of the man?”
“Something of a rake, is he not?” replied the Professor. “I confess that I do not understand the art world, Carroll. It is all well to produce renderings of the world in which we live, but too many of these people seem to revel in immorality. Even in ‘The Portrait of Professor Gross,’ Eakins chose to sensationalize, to emphasize the horrors of surgery rather than its benefits. Old Gross is depicted more as a Jehovah figure passing judgment on the wretch on the table than as a man who was doing everything he could to save his patient’s life.”
“But there is value, is there not, in making us see the world through fresh eyes, even if the view disturbs us?”
“There is value in truth, Carroll, and truth is not found in sensationalism.”
I decided not to press the point but the Professor had not finished. “I suggest you reconsider the time you spend with those people. You have a brilliant career ahead of you. It would be a great tragedy if, after all your efforts, you let it dissipate. Abigail Benedict would turn any man’s head. But if you are not careful, Ephraim, she will move on and you will be ruined. You should put an end to your late-night meetings.”
“How did you know?”
“Hiram Benedict told me. He asked if I thought you a suitable match for