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 UCSB LIBKAKY
 
 WILLIAM HABVEY, 
 
 -rINAL IN T^E COJ.I.EG-E OF rHTSIClAN 

 
 LIVES 
 
 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 LINACRE. 
 CAIUS. 
 HARVEY. 
 BROWNE. 
 SYDENHAM. 
 RADCLIFFE. 
 MEAD. 
 HUXHAM. 
 PRINGLE. 
 
 FOTHERGILL. 
 HEBERDEN. 
 CULLEN. 
 HUNTER. 
 WARREN. 
 BAILLIE. 
 JENNER. 
 PARRY. 
 GOOCH. 
 
 NOW FOR THE FIRST TIME ADDED : 
 
 MERRIMAN. I PARIS. 
 
 HALFOR0. I CHAMBERS. 
 
 CLUTTERBUCK. 
 
 FOUR PORTRAITS. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 WILLIAM TEGG AND Co., 85, QUEEN STREET, 
 CHEAPSIDE. 
 
 1857.
 
 LONDON: 
 
 HADDON, BROTHERS, AND CO., PalNTEBJS, 
 CASTLE STREET, FINSBUBY.
 
 THOMAS MAYO, M.D., F.R.S., 
 
 President of the Royal College of Physicians, &-c. 
 
 WITH SENTIMENTS OF THE UTMOST RESPECT FOB HIS HIGH 
 
 INTELLECTUAL ENDOWMENTS, PROPOUND ATTAINMENTS, 
 
 AND 
 
 DISTINGUISHED POSITION, 
 
 
 
 Folunu is Inscribed 
 
 BY HIS OBEDIENT SERVANT, 
 
 THE EDITOR.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 "A PHYSICIAN in a great city (says Johnson in his 
 Life of Akenside) seems to be the mere plaything 
 of Fortune ; his degree of reputation is, for the 
 most part, totally casual ; they that employ him, 
 know not his excellence ; they that reject him 
 know not his deficience. By any acute observer, 
 who had looked on the transactions of the medical 
 world for half a century, a very curious book 
 might be written on the 'fortune of physicians.'" 
 
 There can be no question, that from physic as 
 from every other profession, examples may be 
 brought in which talent has not ensured success, 
 but, on the contrary, the caprice of Fortune been 
 fully shown. In the Lives which follow, however, 
 the celebrity obtained in the world has alone been 
 the guide of selection ; and the perusal of the 
 volume, it is hoped, will satisfy the youthful
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 reader, that the gloomy observation of the great 
 moralist must be received as pointing, not to the 
 rule, but to the exceptions ; and that, generally 
 speaking, in this course of active life, as in others, 
 the long labour of preparatory study, anxious dili- 
 gence of observation, and conscientious assiduity 
 in practice, are crowned with all the distinctions 
 which generous ambition aspires to reach. 
 
 The important services rendered to the general 
 literature and science of the country by some of 
 the busiest members of this busy profession, are 
 dwelt upon in these pages with just pride, though 
 by no means in such detail as the subject might 
 claim ; nor perhaps could any other walk of exer- 
 tion furnish a larger proportion of names eminent 
 for intellectual zeal and power, which, have also 
 deserved to be handed down for moral dignity of 
 character, piety to God, and benevolence to man.
 
 PREFACE 
 
 TO THE SECOND EDITION. 
 
 SINCE the publication of the first edition of this 
 work, several eminent British Physicians have 
 terminated their useful and honourable careers. 
 Amongst these are the five whose memoirs are 
 added to the original volume, and appear in this, 
 the second edition. For the memoirs of Sir Henry 
 Halford and Dr. Paris, the Editor is indebted to 
 Dr. Munk, the Librarian of the Royal College of 
 Physicians. That of Sir Henry Halford is ex- 
 tracted from the " Roll of the Royal College of Phy- 
 sicians," a MS. in three large volumes, compiled 
 and presented to the College by Dr. Munk. The 
 Life of Dr. Paris is a reprint with Dr. Munk's 
 permission, of his recently published memoir of that 
 distinguished Physician. The Editor is responsible 
 for the lives of Merriman, Chambers, and Clutter- 
 buck. No alterations have been made in the 
 memoirs which constituted the first edition of 
 the work.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 LINACRE 1 
 
 CATUS 15 
 
 HARVEY 31 
 
 BROWNE 60 
 
 SYDENHAM 84 
 
 RADCLIFFE 112 
 
 MEAD 155 
 
 HUXHAM 168 
 
 PRINGLE 172 
 
 FOTHERGILL 183 
 
 HEBERDEN 198 
 
 CULLEN 204 
 
 HUNTER 217 
 
 WARREN . . 235 
 
 BAILLIE 241 
 
 JBNNER 252 
 
 PARRY , : !*'* V~" , 275 
 
 GOOCH .... ,*;.' ffr . . 305 
 
 MERRIMAN 342 
 
 HALFORD 360 
 
 PARIS '. :ZL . i: ' . . 369 
 
 CHAMBERS . , , '.'' '-'-<' " : 388 
 
 CLUTTERBUCK. . . .-,! . 403 
 
 TO THE BINDER. 
 
 Portrait of HARVEY .... to face title. 
 
 Sir THOMAS BROWNE . page 60 
 
 CULLEN 204. 
 
 JENNER 252.
 
 LIYES 
 
 OP 
 
 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 LINACRE. 
 
 THE life of this great man is so intimately connected 
 with the revival of learning in Europe, with the 
 introduction of the Greek language into England 
 and with the first establishment of a rational 
 practice of physic in this country, that it must he 
 ' equally interesting to the general scholar and to 
 the student of medicine. 
 
 Thomas Linacre was horn at Canterbury in 
 the year ]4GO, was educated at Oxford, where he 
 was elected Fellow of All Souls' College, and went 
 afterwards, for his further improvement, into Italy, 
 whither he accompanied an embassy, sent by 
 Henry VII. to the court of Rome. At Florence 
 he was fortunate enough to attract the attention 
 and secure the patronage of Lorenzo de Medici, 
 whose princely and liberal spirit had procured 
 for him the title of the Magnificent ; and whose 
 own vigorous imagination and elegant style en- 
 title him almost exclusively to the appellation 
 of the restorer of Italian literature. In patro- 
 nizing learning and learned men, Lorenzo had,
 
 Z BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 however, only followed the example of his 
 grandfather, Cosmo de Medici, who had, some 
 years before, established at Florence an academy 
 expressly for the cultivation of the Platonic Phi- 
 losophy, and had collected from all parts ("by 
 means of foreign correspondents) manuscripts of 
 the Greek, Latin, and oriental languages, which 
 formed the foundation of the Laurentian Library. 
 Cosmo died in 1464, at the age of seventy-five, 
 and was succeeded by Lorenzo, who, without 
 affecting the title of sovereign prince, reigned at 
 Florence in the greatest splendour, and adorned 
 the city with the most costly and noble edifices. 
 He assembled around him the most ingenious and 
 learned persons of the age ; and, to increase the 
 treasures already collected by his predecessor, em- 
 ployed John Lascaris, at his own expense, to pro- 
 cure the writings of the ancients in Greece and 
 Asia Minor. Angelo Poliziano was the teacher of 
 the children of Lorenzo, and when Linacre arrived 
 at Florence, he was allowed the privilege of at- 
 tending the lessons of the same preceptor. He 
 began the study of Greek under Demetrius Chal- 
 condylas, who had fled from Constantinople, when 
 it was captured by the Turks. This event, so im- 
 portant in its consequences, had taken place in 
 14;>3 ; and the Greeks, among whom some re- 
 mains of learning were still preserved, being scat- 
 tered by these barbarians, took shelter in Italy, 
 and imported, together with their admirable lan- 
 guage, a tincture of their science, and of their 
 refined taste in poetry and eloquence. These un- 
 fortunate refugees had found a welcome reception 
 under the roof of Cosmo de Medici; and in re-
 
 LIXACRE. 3 
 
 turn had instructed the Florentines in reading 
 and comprehending those writings of the ancient 
 Greeks whom Boccaccio had taught them to ad- 
 mire. For, even so early as the middle of the four- 
 teenth century, this last celebrated man had intro- 
 duced a love of the Greek language amongst the 
 Italians, had founded at Florence a chair for the 
 teaching of it, and placed in it one of the most 
 learned of the Greeks of Constantinople. The 
 name of this early professor was Lcontius Pilatus, 
 whom Boccaccio received into his own house 
 (though he is represented as a man of very dis- 
 agreeable and unaccommodating manners) ; sup- 
 ported him during his stay at Florence ; entered 
 himself as one of his first scholars ; and procured, 
 at his own expense, the Greek MSS. which were 
 employed in the lectures of the professor. For, 
 as this was before the invention of the art of 
 printing, the lecturer read aloud from his own 
 copy, which was perhaps the only one of the 
 author (possessed by the class) upon whom he 
 was making commentaries to a very numerous 
 auditory. The knowledge, however, of this co- 
 pious and beautiful language must have been 
 confined to a few, till after the capture of Constan- 
 tinople, the consequent dispersion of the Greeks, 
 and, more especially, till after the invention of 
 printing. Without the aid of printing, learning 
 could never have become accessible to the bulk of 
 the people; and without the. demand for books, 
 which learning occasions, the art of printing itself 
 might, to this day, have been classed among the 
 useless contrivances invented by ingenious vision- 
 aries. The impatience manifested, at the time we 
 
 B 2
 
 4 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 speak of, to possess the lost treasures of antiquity, 
 thus opportunely helped to demonstrate the value of 
 this new medium of communication. Printing has 
 made books infinitely more accessible to all classes 
 of persons in point of expense causes them to be 
 more easily read and apprehended and enables 
 information to be circulated with a degree of 
 rapidity of which, in ancient times, there is no 
 example. This important discovery, which facili- 
 tated the progress of letters so immensely, was not 
 introduced into Italy till 1465 ; and when Linacre 
 was studying Greek under Demetrius Chalcon- 
 dylas, that scholar must have been superintending 
 the printing of the edition of Homer, published at 
 Florence in 1488.* The opportunities Linacre 
 enjoyed under the patronage of Lorenzo, he turned 
 to the best advantage ; and when he quitted Flo- 
 
 * A copy of this valuable work is in the library of the College of 
 Physicians ; and it is not improbable that Demetrius may have em- 
 ployed the young Linacre, the future founder of the college, to look 
 over the proof-sheets of this curious edition. What could have 
 been a better exercise for the young student? A great authority 
 in matters of this sort, Dibdin, speaks of this edition in the 
 following terms : " Homerus, Chalcondylae. Florent. fol. 1488. 
 Grace, 2 vol. Editio princeps. This is one of the most celebrated 
 publications of the fifteenth century, well known to bibliographers, 
 and to be found in all the libraries of the curious. This immortal 
 work (for such a production at such an early period of typography 
 well merits the appellation) was composed and executed by the care, 
 application, and at the expense of Demetrius Chalcondyla, an 
 Athenian, and Demetrius of Crete." Mr. Palmer, in his History of 
 Printing, thus observes on it : " This excellent work I have seen in 
 the curious library of Dr. Mead ; and I dare affirm, that whoever 
 examines the whiteness and strength of the paper, the fineness of 
 the character, the elegant disposition of the matter, the exact 
 distance between the lines, the large margin, and, in short, the 
 whole performance, with its various ornaments, will easily own it 
 a masterpiece in that kind."
 
 LINACRE. .') 
 
 rence he proceeded to Rome, and there studied 
 medicine and natural philosophy under Hermolaus 
 Barbaras. He applied himself particularly to the 
 study of Aristotle and Galen ; and the knowledge 
 he had acquired in the classical capital of Tuscany 
 enabled him to read these authors in their own 
 language ; indeed, he is said to have been the first 
 Englishman who made himself master of these 
 writers by perusing them in the original Greek. 
 
 Having previously graduated at Padua, Linacre 
 returned to England, was incorporated M.D. at 
 Oxford, gave temporary lectures on physic, and 
 taught the Greek language in that university.* 
 This was before the foundation of a regular pro- 
 fessor's chair at Oxford : for it was Cardinal 
 Wolsey who first established a chair for teaching 
 Greek in that university, a novelty, which is said 
 to have rent that celebrated seat of learning into 
 violent factions, that frequently came to blows. 
 Here, amidst the groves of the academy, the stu- 
 dents divided themselves into parties, bearing the 
 names of Greeks and Trojans, which sometimes 
 fought with an animosity as great as was formerly 
 exercised by those hostile nations themselves. In- 
 deed, to such an absurd extreme was this contest 
 carried, that a new and more correct method ot 
 pronouncing Greek having been introduced, the 
 Grecians themselves were divided into parties ; av.d 
 it was remarked that the Catholics favoured the 
 former pronunciation, while the Protestants gave 
 countenance to the new. Gardiner employed the 
 authority of the king and council to suppress in- 
 
 * Sir Thomas More, then an undergraduate of Canterbury College, 
 which now forms part of Christ Church, was one of his pupils..
 
 6 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 novations in this particular, and to preserve the 
 corrupt sound of the Greek alphabet, so little 
 liberty was then allowed of any kind ! The pe- 
 nalties inflicted upon the new pronunciation, were 
 no less than whipping, degradation, and expulsion ; 
 and the bishop declared that, rather than permit 
 the liberty of innovating in the pronunciation of 
 the Greek alphabet, it was better that the language 
 itself were totally banished the university. 
 
 Notwithstanding the ridicule of this officious 
 and misplaced zeal in so trivial a matter, it is im- 
 possible not to pause for a moment, and reflect 
 how important an event was the taking of Con- 
 stantinople, and the subsequent diffusion of the 
 language and learning of the Greeks over the 
 hitherto barbarous nations of Europe ; more espe- 
 cially when we view it as connected with the other 
 mighty changes which either preceded, or almost 
 immediately followed it. The discovery of both 
 the Indies, the invention of the art of printing, of 
 gunpowder, and the great innovations effected in 
 religion, combined to make so general a revolution 
 in human affairs, that commerce, arts, science, and 
 government, all received at this period an impulse 
 towards improvement, from which they have never 
 yet receded. 
 
 But to return to Linacre. On his settling in 
 England, his reputation became so high, that 
 king Henry VII. called him to court, and en- 
 trusted him with the care both of the health and 
 education of his son, Prince Arthur. Linacre is 
 said also to have instructed Princess Catharine in 
 the Italian language. As the prince died at six- 
 teen years of age, this important trust could not
 
 LINACRE. 7 
 
 have long been enjoyed by him ; but he probably 
 continued his instruction of the Spanish princess 
 for many years. The Infanta, we know, instead 
 of returning to her father, Ferdinand, was con- 
 tracted, after the death of his elder brother, to 
 Prince Henry, and lived long enough to regret 
 the mercenary policy of the king, who, it is said, 
 was induced to form this ill-omened alliance, by 
 his unwillingness to return Catharine's dowry, 
 amounting to two hundred thousand ducats. 
 
 The reputation of Linacre, employed as a court 
 physician, continued to increase, and in the reign 
 of Henry VIII. he appears to have stood above 
 all rivalship at the head of his profession. Be- 
 sides his medical skill, his attainments as a scholar 
 must have mainly contributed to his eminence ; for 
 the countenance given to letters by Henry VIII. 
 and his ministers, rendered learning fashionable 
 in England. Erasmus speaks, with great satisfac- 
 tion, of the general regard shown at this time 
 in Britain by the nobility and gentry to men of 
 knowledge. Writing to one of his correspondents 
 from Brussels "Literature," says he, "would 
 triumph here also, if we had in this country a 
 prince like the king of England, who, well in- 
 formed himself, and of an acute understanding, 
 openly protects men of letters ; besides the Cardi- 
 nal of York ( Wolsey) encourages, by every means 
 in his power, a love of letters, as also does the 
 Reverend the Cardinal Campeggio, who is himself 
 an excellent and most learned man. The palace 
 of the king of England," he concludes, " contains 
 more men of erudition than any academy." 
 
 Linacre employed the wealth and influence
 
 8 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 which his station afforded him, to promote the in- 
 terests of science and the welfare of the public. 
 He founded two lectures on physic in the Univer- 
 sity of Oxford, and one in that of Cambridge. 
 The endowment at Oxford was left to Merton 
 College ; and the Cambridge lecture was given to 
 St. John's College. 
 
 But the great glory of Linacre was, that he 
 projected and accomplished a most important ser- 
 vice to medicine, by the institution of the Royal 
 College of Physicians in London. He had beheld 
 with concern the practice of physic chiefly en- 
 grossed by illiterate monks and empirics ; a na- 
 tural consequence of commiting the power of ap- 
 proving and licensing practitioners to the bishops 
 in their several dioceses, who certainly must have 
 been very incompetent judges of medical ability. 
 To strike at the root of -this evil, he therefore ob- 
 tained, by his interest with Cardinal Wolsey, let- 
 ters patent from Henry VIII., dated in the year 
 1518, constituting a corporate body of regular- 
 bred physicians, in London, in whom should re- 
 side the sole privilege of admitting persons to 
 practise within that city, and a circuit of seven 
 miles round it. 
 
 To use the words of the charter of the college : 
 " Before this period, a great multitude of ignorant 
 persons, of whom the greater part had no insight 
 into physic, nor in any other kind of learning; 
 some could not even read the letters on the book, 
 so far forth, that common artificers, as smiths, 
 weavers, and women, boldly and accustomably 
 took upon them great cures, to the high displea- 
 sure of God, great infamy of the faculty, and the
 
 LINACRE. 9 
 
 grievous hurt, damage, and destruction of many of 
 the king's liege people." This was the state of 
 things before the foundation of the College of 
 Physicians. Afterwards, it is true, empirics were 
 occasionally treated in the most summary man- 
 ner, and their dealings with the credulous must have 
 been wicked and gross, to have deserved such a 
 punishment as the following, recorded by StoAv, 
 in his Chronicles : " A counterfeit doctor," says 
 he, " was set on horseback, his face to the horse's 
 tail, the same tail in his hand as a bridle, a collar of 
 jordans about his neck, a whetstone on his breast, 
 and so led through the city of London with ring- 
 ing of basins, and banished. Such deceivers," 
 continues the chronicler, "no doubt, are many, 
 who, being never trained up in reading or practice 
 of physick and chirurgery, do boast to doe great 
 cures, especially upon women, as to make them 
 straight that before were crooked, corbed, or 
 crumped in any part of their bodies, c. But the 
 contrary is true ; for some have received gold, 
 when they have better deserved the whetstone." 
 
 On the establishment of the College, which was 
 to put an end to those and similar abuses, Linacre 
 was elected the first president, and continued in 
 that ofhce during the remainder of his life, about 
 seven years. The assemblies of the College were 
 held at his own house in Knight Rider's-street, 
 which he bequeathed to them at his death. It may 
 here be observed, with propriety, that the founda- 
 tion of the College of Physicians has had the 
 most useful and beneficial results. By their charter, 
 they are empowered to examine medical candi- 
 dates after a certain period of study, and, upon
 
 ]() BKITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 their giving proofs of competency, to authorize 
 them to practise medicine. A system has conse- 
 quently been constructed for the public service, 
 which has now been carried on for more than three 
 centuries, by which the character and respectability 
 of physicians, and through them of the whole 
 medical profession, has been raised to a higher 
 eminence than in any other nation of Europe. 
 
 Towards the latter part of his life, Linacre en- 
 tered into holy orders, the motives to which step 
 are not a little dubious. If, as some assert, the 
 only benefice conferred upon him, was a chanter- 
 ship in the cathedral of York, it would be most 
 obvious to suppose that a devout regard for 
 the clerical character was his chief inducement. 
 But others mention his appointment to several 
 church preferments besides none of them, how- 
 ever, very profitable ; and most of them resigned 
 soon after his induction to them. From a passage in 
 an epistle of his to Warham, archbishop of Can- 
 terbury, it would seem that the acquisition of an 
 easy and honourable retreat had been his princi- 
 pal object. 
 
 About this time, Linacre appears to have been 
 exceedingly afflicted with that painful disease, the 
 stone, of which he ultimately died, and which must 
 now have greatly incapacitated him for the 
 active duties of his profession. Whatever the 
 motives were which induced him to go into the 
 church, it is said, that on the assumption of his 
 new character, he applied himself to those studies 
 which are more peculiarly connected with it ; and 
 it is related of him, that a little before his death, 
 when worn out with fatigue and sickness, he first
 
 LTNACRE. ] 1 
 
 began to read the New Testament : on perusing 
 the f)th, 6th, and 7th chapters of St. Matthew, 
 containing Christ's sermon on the Mount, he 
 threw the hook from him with great violence, pas- 
 sionately exclaiming, either this is not the Gospel, 
 or ice are not Christians, a declaration, if rightly 
 understood, equally honourable to the morals he 
 found there inculcated, and severe upon those of 
 the age in which he lived. 
 
 It is, nevertheless, agreed on all hands, that 
 the character of this eminent person, whether as 
 an upright and humane physician, a steady and 
 affectionate friend, or a munificent patron of let- 
 ters, was deserving of the highest applause. 
 Were other testimonies wanting, it were suffi- 
 cient, in justification of this eulogium, to mention, 
 that he was the intimate friend of Erasmus. That 
 great and worthy man frequently takes occasion 
 to express his affection and esteem for his cha- 
 racter and abilities, and in his letters calls him 
 "weum Linacrum. his dear frienrl, his preceptor, 
 and patron." Writing to him from Paris, in 1508, 
 after a visit he had made in England, Erasmus 
 styles him his most learned and accomplished pre- 
 ceptor, and then proceeds to relate to him the dis- 
 asters of his own journey. He says he had suffered 
 much in his passage across to France, that he had 
 been four days at sea, that he had caught cold, 
 that his head ached, that the glands behind his 
 ears were swollen, his temples were throbbing, 
 and that he suffered much from a noise in his ears ; 
 and he concludes this long catalogue of accumu- 
 lated maladies, by lamenting that, in the mean 
 time, " No Linacre is at hand, to restore him to
 
 12 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 health by his skilful advice." In another letter, 
 and on another occasion, he writes to him again 
 from Paris, to beg that he would have the good- 
 ness to send him the prescription of a medicine, 
 which Linacre had ordered for him while in Lon- 
 don, but which his stupid servant had left at the 
 apothecary's shop, and so lost. These are proofs 
 of the esteem in which his skill was held, by one 
 of the wisest men of the age in which he lived ; 
 and as the medical writings he has left are only 
 translations, we must form our judgment of his 
 talents as a physician, by the universal reputation 
 he acquired among his contemporaries for skill in 
 the practice of his art. An instance of his saga- 
 city is recorded in a prognostic he made concern- 
 ing his friend Lily, the grammarian whose certain 
 death he foretold, if he should consent to the 
 excision of a malignant tumour on his hip ; and 
 the event verified his prediction. Erasmus, in a 
 letter to Bilibaldus Pirckheimerus, gives a very 
 particular account of the manner in which he was 
 relieved by the direction of Linacre in a fit of 
 the gravel ; and the rational simplicity of the me- 
 thod offers a favourable specimen of his medical 
 practice. He says, Linacre, whose assiduity in 
 attendance was equal to his knowledge, sent for 
 an apothecary to his sick chamber, and caused 
 him in his presence to prepare the folloAving re- 
 medy : Camomile flowers and parsley were tied 
 up in a linen cloth, and boiled in a vessel of pure 
 water, till half the liquor was exhausted ; the cloth 
 was then wrung out, and applied hot to the 
 aftected part, and ease was presently procured. 
 In a violent attack, this remedy, on the second
 
 LIN ACRE. 13 
 
 application, brought away a stone as big as an 
 almond. One cannot deny, that the remedy was 
 a judicious one ; but a warm bath, which would 
 now-a-days have been suggested by any tyro in 
 physic, would have been a little more efficacious, 
 though it might not have had so medicated an 
 appearance ; a circumstance of no small importance 
 in these matters. 
 
 Besides his medical translations, Linacre wrote 
 on mathematics and on grammar : the first of 
 these works he dedicated to prince Arthur, the 
 second to the princess Mary. In the preface of 
 this latter work, he declares, that having been 
 appointed by the king to take care of the health 
 of the princess, and not being able, on account of 
 his own increasing infirmities, to perform the duties 
 of a physician, he bethought himself how he could 
 be of the most use to his illustrious charge. He 
 saw in the princess a most favourable disposition 
 towards the cultivation of letters, and he therefore 
 devoted himself to the perfection of this treatise on 
 the rudiments of the Latin grammar, which might 
 aid her highness in her studies. 
 
 To sum up his character, it was said of him, that 
 no Englishman of his day had had such famous 
 masters, viz., Demetrius and Politian, at Florence ; 
 such noble patrons, Lorenzo de Medici, Henry 
 VII. and Henry VIII. ; such high-born scholars, 
 the prince Arthur and princess Mary, of England ; 
 or such learned friends : for amongst the latter were 
 to be enumerated Erasmus, Melancthon, Latimer, 
 Tonstal, and Sir Thomas More. Of his transla- 
 tions of Galen, Erasmus spoke in the highest 
 terms ; and when writing to a friend, to whom he
 
 14 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 was sending some of these books, he says, " I 
 present you with the works of Galen, now, by the 
 help of Linacre, speaking better Latin than they 
 ever before spoke Greek." In the British Mu- 
 seum there are two copies of Linacre's translation 
 of the fourteen books of Galen's Methodus Me- 
 dendi. They are in the finest possible condition, 
 and are the presentation copies of Henry VIII. 
 and Cardinal Wolsey. The title of the king's copy 
 is illuminated with the royal arms ; that of Wol- 
 sey's is decorated with the Cardinal's hat. On 
 the binding of his majesty's are the royal arms 
 and motto impressed. The dedication to the car- 
 dinal is in manuscript ; they are both on spotless 
 vellum. 
 
 Linacre died in great agony from the stone, 
 October 20, 1524, aged sixty-four; and was bu- 
 ried in St. Paul's cathedral, where a monument 
 was afterwards erected to his memory by his ad- 
 mirer and successor in fame, Dr. Caius.
 
 15 
 
 C A I U S. 
 
 JOHN KAYR, or KEY, more generally known by his 
 Latinized name of Caius, \vas born at Norwich, 
 October 6, J510. He became, like Linacre, a 
 court physician, enjoying that dignity during the 
 successive reigns of Edward VI., Queen Mary, 
 and Queen Elizabeth ; like him, too, he had stu- 
 died abroad, and travelled over the greatest part of 
 Italy, Germany, and France. On his return to 
 England, Caius settled in the country, and prac- 
 tised at Cambridge, Shrewsbury, and Norwich. 
 From the latter place he was called to court, and 
 appointed physician to Edward VI. Following 
 the footsteps of his great predecessor, he was dis- 
 tinguished for his knowledge of the Greek lan- 
 guage, which gave him a superiority over most of 
 his contemporaries ; and he imitated the example 
 of Linacre, also, in revising, correcting, and 
 translating several of Galen's works, which were 
 printed at different times abroad. But, in addition 
 to these, Caius was an original writer, and the 
 author of some curious books ; one of the most 
 singular of which is in English, being designed for 
 the use of the people at large. It is the only 
 work he seems to have composed in his native 
 tongue, (on all other occasions he wrote in Latin) ; 
 and the quaint simplicity of the language of that 
 day, now nearly three hundred years ago, sounds 
 strangely in modern ears, and cannot easily be 
 read without exciting a smile. But the treatise
 
 16 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 itself forms a very curious article in the annals 
 of medicine, and relates to a sort of pestilence 
 which infested this country at various periods, 
 committed great ravages, and was attended with 
 some remarkable circumstances. 
 
 The title of the work is, " A Boke, or Counseill 
 against the disease, commonly called the Sweate, 
 or Sweatyng Sicknesse. Made by Ihon Caius, 
 doctour in phisicke. Very necessary for everye 
 personne, and much requisite to be had in the 
 handes of al sortes, for their better instruction, 
 preparacion, and defence, against the souddein 
 comying and fearful assaulting of the same dis- 
 ease." 12mo. 1552. 
 
 The author makes an apology for writing his 
 treatise in English, " For," says he, " the commo- 
 ditie of that which is so written, passeth not the 
 compasse of England, but remaineth enclosed 
 within the seas. But," he adds, " as this disease 
 is almost peculiar unto us Englishemen, and not 
 common to all men, following us, as the shadowe 
 the body, in all countries, albeit not at all times ; 
 therefore compelled I am to use this our English 
 tongue, as best to be understood and most needful, 
 to whom it most behoveth to have speedy remedie." 
 
 This curious disease appeared, for the first 
 time, in the army of the Earl of Richmond, upon 
 his landing at Milford-haven in 1485, and spread 
 to London, were it raged from the beginning 
 of August to the end of October. So formidable 
 and fatal were its effects, that the coronation of 
 Henry VII., the victor in the battle of Bosworth- 
 field, was deferred till this strange pestilence 
 had subsided. It was a species of malady
 
 CAIUS. 17 
 
 unknown to any other age or nation, which oc- 
 casioned the sudden death of great multitudes. 
 Caius describes it, as it appeared for the last time 
 among us. The treatment of it is perhaps the 
 most interesting, at least, affords us the most 
 amusing particulars. It turns upon the sole idea 
 of promoting the sweat, and Caius lays down the 
 strictest rules for avoiding anything that might 
 expose the patient to the least cold, or check this 
 salutary and critical evacuation. On this point he 
 is peremptory. " If two be taken in one bed, let 
 them so continue, although it be to their unquiet- 
 ness ; for fear whereof, and for the more quietness 
 and safety, very good it is, during all the sweating 
 time, that two persons lie not in one bed."* To 
 promote perspiration they are ordered to 'drink 
 posset ale, made of sweet milk, turned with vine- 
 gar, in a quart whereof parsley and sage, of each 
 half one little handful, hath been sodden, &c. 
 
 * The manners and mode of life of our ancestors, as may be in- 
 ferred from tfcis precept, were probably nearly the same at this time 
 as they were described by Erasmus about thirty years before ; the 
 condition of which may be supposed to have contributed to deter 
 him from accepting the splendid offers of Henry VIII. and Cardinal 
 Wolsey, made to induce that great scholar to fix his residence in 
 England. "A magnificent apartment, a yearly pension of six hun- 
 dred florins, and a benefice that produced yearly one hundred marks, 
 were not sufficient to counterbalance the disgust he felt at the in- 
 commodious and bad exposition of the houses, the filthiness of the 
 streets, and the sluttishness within doors. The floors," continues 
 Erasmus in his Letters, "are commonly of clay, strewed with 
 rushes, under which lie unmolested an ancient collection of lees, 
 grease, fragments, bones, spittle, excrements of dogs and cats, and 
 every thing that is nasty." To such a sordid and uncleanly mode of 
 life, Erasmus was disposed to impute the frequent visits of the 
 plague in England ; and there can be no question that it would 
 also mainly contribute to the spread and devastation of the epide- 
 mic sickness described by Caius. 
 
 C
 
 18 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 If under this treatment, loaded with bed-clothes, 
 and almost stifled with heat, they happen to feel 
 faint, " cause them," says the doctor, " to lie on their 
 right side, and bow themselves forward, call them 
 by their names, beat them with a rosemary branch, 
 or some other sweet little thing do not let them 
 on any account sleep, but pull them by the ears, 
 nose, or hair, suffering them in no wise to sleep, 
 until such time as they have no luste to sleep ; ex- 
 cept to a learned man in physick, the case appears 
 to bear the contrary. If under this discipline they 
 happily recover, and find their strength be sore 
 wasted, let them smell to an old sweet apple, and 
 use other restoratives of similar efficacy ; for," 
 concludes Dr. Caius, " there is nothing more com- 
 fortable to the spirits than good and sweet odours." 
 
 The disease was of the most malignant and fatal 
 character ; it immediately killed some in opening 
 their windows, some in one hour, many in two, 
 and at the longest " to them that merrily dined, it 
 gave a sorrowful supper." 
 
 He called it " Ephemera," or a fever of one na- 
 tural day, for it lasted only twenty-four hours. In 
 the fifth year of the reign of Edward VI. it began at 
 Shrewsbury in the midst of April, and proceeded 
 with great mortality to Ludlow, and other places 
 in Wales, then to Chester, Coventry, Oxford, and 
 other towns in the south ; it reached London "Jth 
 July, from thence it went through the east part of 
 England into the north, till the end of August, 
 and entirely ceased towards the close of Septem- 
 ber. Caius enumerates many causes of the disease, 
 but chiefly shows why it attacks the English more 
 than any other nation. " The reason is none
 
 CAIUS. 19 
 
 other than the evil diet of the country, which de- 
 stroyeth more meats and drinks, without all order, 
 convenient time, reason, or necessity, than either 
 Scotland, or all other countries under the sun, to 
 the great annoyance of their own bodies and wits, 
 hindrance of those which have need, and great 
 dearth and scarcity in the commonwealth. Where- 
 fore if Esculapius, the inventor of physick, the 
 saver of men from death, and restorer to life, 
 should return again to this world, he could not 
 save these sorts of men." In corroboration of 
 this, he remarks, "that those who had the dis- 
 ease, sore with peril or death, were either men of 
 wealth, ease, and welfare ; or of the poorer sort, 
 such as were idle persons, good ale drinkers and 
 tavern haunters the laborious and thin dieted 
 escaped." This curious English book the author 
 afterwards revised, and put into a more scientific- 
 form, and into the Latin language, and published 
 it in 1556, under the title De Ephemera Bri- 
 tannicd. 
 
 In this more enlarged treatise, he speaks more 
 fully of the article of diet, digresses, and gives us 
 a minute account of the methods employed in his 
 day, of making beer and ale, and of the process of 
 malting, concluding with a copious panegyric upon 
 temperance, extracted from the ancients. With 
 an ostentatious display of learning, he enumerates 
 all the most trifling details of the mystery of 
 brewing, and having deposited the nutritious beve- 
 rage in casks in the cellar, concludes emphati- 
 cally Ita Ala Jit. He then proceeds to describe 
 how Bera is made ; but we will not follow him into 
 the minutiae of the fabrication of the thinner pota- 
 
 c 2
 
 20 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 tion, though it is very amusing to read his learned 
 discourse upon these familiar articles of daily con- 
 sumption, interlarded with Greek terms, and re- 
 ference to the oivog xgidivo; of Athenaeus and 
 Herodotus. 
 
 The symptoms of the sweating sickness were as 
 f >llow : it affected some particular part, attended 
 with inward heat and burning, unquenchable thirst, 
 restlessness, sickness at stomach and heart (though 
 seldom vomiting), headache, delirium, then faint- 
 ness and drowsiness ; the pulse quick and vehe- 
 ment, and the breath short and labouring. Chil- 
 dren, poor and old women were less subject to it 
 of others scarce any escaped the attack, and most 
 died : in Shrewsbury, where it lasted seven months, 
 about a thousand perished. Even by travelling 
 into France, or Flanders, the English, according 
 to Caius, did not escape ; and what is stranger, 
 " even the Scotch were free, and abroad, English 
 only affected, and foreigners not affected in Eng- 
 land." None recovered under twenty-four hours. 
 
 It has been mentioned before that it first showed 
 itself in England in 1485 it appeared again in 
 1506 afterwards in 1517, when it was so violent 
 that it killed in the space of three hours ; so that 
 many of the nobility died, and of the vulgar sort 
 in several towns half often perished. It appeared 
 also in 1548, and proved mortal then in the space 
 of six hours : many of the courtiers died of it, and 
 Henry VIII. himself was in danger. In 1529, 
 and only then, it infested the Netherlands and 
 Germany ; in which last country it did much mis- 
 chief, and destroyed many, and particularly was 
 the occasion of interrupting a conference at Mar-
 
 CAIUS. 21 
 
 purgh, between Luther and Zuinglius, about the 
 Eucharist. The last appearance of the sweating 
 sickness in England was in 1551, when in West- 
 minster it carried off one hundred and twenty in a 
 day, and the two sons of Charles Brandon, both 
 Dukes of Suffolk, died of it. 
 
 This is a short outline of the treatise of Caius 
 upon this singular disease. It may be remarked, 
 with reference to his statement, that it was pecu- 
 liar to the natives of this country, that there seems 
 to be some vulgar prejudice mixed up with that no- 
 tion, as its first appearance was neither among 
 Englishmen, nor in England, but amongst the 
 foreign levies of the earl of Richmond, who had 
 either brought it with them, or more probably 
 generated it in the crowded transport-vessels, on 
 board of which they were embarked. This body 
 of troops is described by a contemporary historian, 
 Philip de Comines, as the most wretched he had 
 ever beheld, collected, we may suppose, from jails 
 and hospitals, squalid, and covered with filth. A 
 highly malignant and contagious disease might 
 readily be produced in such circumstances ; but 
 why it should appear under so new and singular 
 a form, why this should be renewed so many times 
 at irregular intervals, and should at length entirely 
 cease, are questions perhaps impossible to be 
 solved. That the climate of England was not 
 essential to the existence of that disease, is ren- 
 dered manifest by its raging with great violence in 
 Germany and the Low Countries in 1529 and 1530 ; 
 and that the persons of foreigners were not secure 
 in England, appears from the death of Ammonius, 
 a learned Italian, and a particular friend of Eras-
 
 22 BRITISH PHYSICIANS.' 
 
 mus, in 1 520, (in which year the sickness also pre~ 
 vailed in Calais ;) and from the death of another 
 of that nation, related by Caius himself. On the 
 supposition of its being a fever of the putrid and 
 malignant kind, we shall scarcely be able to account 
 for its prevailing most among the rich and well 
 fed, contrary to what we now observe of that class 
 of disorders ; and, indeed, the vast numbers related 
 to be swept away by it, evidently prove its fre- 
 quency amongst the lowest ranks of people. 
 
 To revert to the character of Caius, it has been 
 mentioned before that he seems to have modelled 
 himself upon the example of Linacre, and he fol- 
 lowed him also in his patronage of learning : for 
 being in great favour with Queen Mary, he ob- 
 tained from her majesty a licence to advance Gon- 
 ville Hall into a college ; which permission he 
 suitably seconded by endowing it with several 
 estates for the maintenance of three fellows and 
 twenty scholars, and by various other acts of 
 bounty. This was effected in the course of the 
 years 1557 and 1558; and his name, together 
 with that of the co-founder, still gives title to the 
 college. He framed a new body of laws for this 
 society, and in 1559 accepted the mastership of it, 
 which he retained as long as he lived. In 1565 he 
 began to enlarge his college by the erection of a new 
 square, which was finished in 1570 at the expense 
 of 1834/., a very considerable sum at that time. 
 
 The inscriptions which he caused to be put over 
 the gates of the new square of his College exhi- 
 bit at once specimens of the quaintness of the 
 man, as well as of the moralizing turn of the age 
 in which he lived. One, being low and little, was
 
 CAIUS. 23 
 
 inscribed " Humilitatis ;" the next, which was a 
 portico of handsome structure, was inscribed, 
 " Virtutis ;" and on the opposite side was written, 
 "Jo. Caius posuit sapientiae." The gate leading 
 to the public schools, through which all passed for 
 their degrees, was inscribed " Honoris." Caius 
 seems to have derived great satisfaction from this 
 disposition of his bounty ; for he made this man- 
 sion of learning the retreat of his old age ; and 
 after resigning the mastership of the College, he 
 resided as a fellow commoner, assisting at daily 
 prayers in the chapel, in a private seat built for 
 his own use. 
 
 But besides being the founder of a college at 
 Cambridge, which is, to this day, the chief medi- 
 cal college in that celebrated University, and the 
 author of an interesting treatise on one of the 
 most curious diseases that have ever appeared 
 among us, Caius distinguished himself as a na- 
 turalist, and was the correspondent of the cele- 
 brated Gesner. Between Gesner and Caius an 
 intimate friendship existed ; and the former, Avho 
 was so eminent a scholar, philosopher, and na- 
 turalist, as to have acquired the name of the 
 Pliny of Germany, speaks of Caius in terms of 
 the highest commendation. In his preface to 
 his Icones Animalium, he styles him a man of 
 consummate erudition, judgment, fidelity, and 
 diligence ; and in an epistle to Queen Elizabeth, 
 bestows upon him the epithet of " the most learned 
 physician of his age." At the request of Gesner, 
 he composed a treatise on British dogs, which 
 was afterwards greatly improved and enlarged 
 in ]570.
 
 24 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 In this memoir he gives a brief account of the 
 variety of dogs existing, in his time, in this coun- 
 try, and adds a systematic table of them, subjoin- 
 ing, for the instruction of his correspondent, their 
 English names, which are as follow : " Terrare 
 harier bludhunde gasehunde grehunde 
 leviner, or lyemmer tumbler spainel setter 
 water-spainel, or fynder spainel-gentle, or 
 comforter shepherd's dog mastive, or bande- 
 dog wappe turn-spit dancer." 
 
 Of his manner of treating his subject, the fol- 
 lowing may be given as specimens : 
 
 The Terrare takes its name from its subterraneous em- 
 ploy, being a small kind of hound, used to force the fox, or 
 other beasts of prey, out of their holes. 
 
 The Harier derives its name from hunting the hare. 
 
 The Bludhunde, or Slothunde, was of great use, and in 
 high esteem, amongst our ancestors. Slot means the impres- 
 sion left by the foot of the dog in the mire. This dog was 
 remarkable for the acuteness of his smell, tracing any 
 wounded game that had escaped from the hunter, and fol- 
 lowing the footsteps of the thief, let the distance of his flight 
 be ever so great. The bloodhound WRS in great request on 
 the confines of England and Scotland, when the Borderers 
 were continually preying on the herds and flocks of their 
 neighbours, and was used also by Wallace and Bruce, during 
 the civil wars. 
 
 The Gasehunde would select from the herd the fattest 
 and fairest deer, pursue it by the eye, and, if lost for a time, 
 recover it, and again select it from the herd which it might 
 have rejoined. (This species is now extinct, or, at least, 
 unknown.) 
 
 The Grehunde was the first in rank among dogs, as 
 appears from the forest-laws of Canute, who enacted, ' That 
 no one under the degree of a gentleman should presume to 
 keep a greyhound ;' as also from an old Welsh saying, 
 which signifies that you may know a gentleman by his 
 hawke, his horse, and grehunde. Notwithstanding the rank
 
 CAIUS. 25 
 
 it held among the canine race, Caius mentions, on the au- 
 thority of Froissart, the following fact, not much to the 
 credit of the fidelity of this species : When that unhappy 
 prince, Richard the Second, was taken in Flint Castle, his 
 favourite greyhound immediately deserted him, and fawned 
 on his rival, Bolingbroke, as if he understood and foresaw 
 the misfortunes of his former master. This act of ingratitude, 
 the unfortunate monarch observed, and declared aloud, to be 
 the presage of his future death. 
 
 The Leviner, or Lyemmer. The first name is derived 
 from the lightness of the kind ; the other from the old word 
 Lyemme, a thong ; this species being used to be led with a 
 thong, and slipped at the game. This dog hunted both by 
 scent and sight, and in the form of its body observed a me- 
 dium between the hound and the grehunde. They were 
 chiefly used for the chace of wolves. According to Caius, 
 we are indebted to Spain for the Spainel ; but the Com- 
 forter, or Spainel-gentle, comes from Malta. 
 
 The Mastive, or Bandedog. Of these, he says, three were 
 a match for a bear, and four for a lion. It appears that 
 Great Britain was so noted for its mastiffs, that the Roman 
 Emperors appointed an officer in this island, with the title of 
 Procurator Cynegii, whose sole business it was to breed, and 
 transmit from hence to the amphitheatre, such dogs as 
 would prove equal to the combats exhibited at that place. 
 The mastiffe has been described, by other naturalists, as a 
 species of great size and strength, and a very loud barker ; 
 whence they have derived its name, mastiff, quasi Mase 
 ihefese ; it being supposed to frighten away robbers by its 
 tremendous voice. 
 
 This memoir upon Dogs was not the only work 
 of our physician on subjects connected with na- 
 tural history, for he wrote a treatise on some rare 
 .plants and animals, as well as an account of the 
 hot springs of England. 
 
 Caius was a Fellow of the College of Physi- 
 cians, having been admitted in 1547. He passed 
 through all the offices, for several years had been 
 chosen censor, often registrar and treasurer, and
 
 26 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 for seven years and more was president of this 
 royal foundation. Pie left behind him a book, 
 written with his own hand, of the College Annals, 
 bearing date 1555, and ending 1572, which was 
 the first book kept of their transactions, and is 
 written in Latin, in a clear style, and with great 
 method. 
 
 He was always an eminent defender of the 
 College rights and privileges ; and a difference 
 arising between the physicians and surgeons in 
 the reign of queen Elizabeth, as to whether the 
 latter might administer internal remedies in scia- 
 tica, and various other similar diseases and 
 wounds, Caius was summoned, as president of 
 the College, to appear before the Lord Mayor and 
 others of the Queen's delegates. On this occasion 
 he defended the College rights so learnedly, and 
 so strenuously pointed out the illegality of the 
 practice of the surgeons in the forementioned 
 cases (though they were supported by the Bishop 
 of London, the Master of the Rolls, and others), 
 that it was unanimously agreed, by the Queen's 
 Commissioners, that it was unlawful for the sur- 
 geons to practice in the said cases. 
 
 This conduct of Caius might make him some 
 enemies, at all events, it would render him noto- 
 rious, though it appears strange that Shakspeare 
 should have selected his name for the ridiculous 
 French Doctor, in the comedy of the " Merry 
 Wives of Windsor." From his celebrity, he might 
 have used it as the generic name of a physician. 
 But Shakspeare was little acquainted with literary 
 history, and might possibly wish to treat him as a 
 foreign quack, because the doctor was handed
 
 CAIUS. 27 
 
 down as a kind of Rosicrucian, and, it is said, left 
 behind him some secret writings, which tended 
 to confirm that opinion. The great dramatist is 
 very hard upon the physician, calls him bully- 
 stale^ urinal, and muck-water, reflecting upon 
 that particular inspection which made a considera- 
 ble part of practical physic at that time. Thus, 
 mine host of the Garter, availing himself of the 
 doctor's imputed ignorance of the English lan- 
 guage, makes him the butt of his ridicule, and 
 annexes to the terms lie uses a sense directly 
 opposite to their real import. To make him 
 amends, "he will clapper-claw him tightly;" and, 
 to promote his suit as a lover, " he will he his 
 adversary towards Ann Page." 
 
 But the real Dr. Caius, as we have seen, was a 
 man of various and extensive learning ; accu- 
 rately acquainted with the Greek language, and 
 remarkable for his Latin style, which is pure and 
 copious, and formed upon the best models of an- 
 tiquity. A list of his works which he left behind 
 him will fully warrant this opinion. Among them 
 were translations from Galen and Hippocrates ; a 
 corrected edition of Celsus; a Treatise on the Pro-, 
 nunciation of the Greek and Latin Languages ; 
 and one on the Antiquity of the University of 
 Cambridge. Caius had always a propensity to 
 antiquarian studies, and he was induced late in life 
 to write the last-mentioned treatise, by the fol- 
 lowing occurrence : Queen Elizabeth, paying a 
 visit to Cambridge in 1564, the public orator, in a 
 speech before her Majesty, extolled the antiquity 
 of that university, to the prejudice of that of 
 Oxford. This incited one Thomas Key, a Fellow
 
 28 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 of All Souls' College, Oxford, to vindicate the 
 honour of the seminary to which he belonged, in 
 a publication, wherein he asserted, that it was 
 founded by some Greek philosophers, companions 
 of Brutus, and restored by Alfred about the year 
 870. This was too great a triumph to be borne 
 by the Cantabrigians ; and accordingly, our phy- 
 sician, at the instigation of Archbishop Parker, 
 stepped forth, and in a learned dissertation, to 
 which he fixed the signature Londinensis, as- 
 serted the antiquity of his own University, and 
 called in question that of Oxford. With all the 
 forms of antiquarian certainty and precision, he 
 established its foundation by one Cantaber, 394 
 years before Christ, and in the year of the world 
 four thousand three hundred and odd. Thus, 
 after defeating the Oxford claim, derived from the 
 companions of Brutus, yet allowing them an 
 origin as far back as from Alfred, he gains a 
 priority of time for Cambridge of 1267 years ! 
 To such trifling and uninteresting objects did he 
 apply his accuracy and diligent research ! 
 
 His other critical performance was, on the ge- 
 nuine pronunciation of the Greek and Latin lan- 
 guages. It is somewhat extraordinary that, so 
 soon after the revival of letters, we should differ 
 in our pronunciation of the learned languages 
 from those who were our masters in them. This 
 difference, we know, is at present very great. 
 With regard to the Latin, we stand single in our 
 manner of pronouncing the vowels, in opposition 
 to every other nation in Europe. Caius, by his 
 long residence abroad, and connexion with foreign 
 literati, was led to prefer their method. As to the
 
 CAIUS. 29 
 
 Greek he wished to have it pronounced after the 
 manner of the modern Greeks. 
 
 To conclude. From the variety of his writings 
 already alluded to, it will be admitted, by all, that 
 he was fully entitled to the reputation of a critic, 
 a linguist, a physician, a naturalist, and an anti- 
 quary. He passed the last years of his life, as 
 has before been stated, in the academic retreat he 
 had formed for himself at Cambridge ; but does 
 not appear to have retired from the public busi- 
 ness of his profession from any gloomy distaste to 
 the world, but from a truly philosophic fondness 
 for learned leisure ; as is apparent from the nume- 
 rous pieces upon literary subjects, in which he 
 was engaged to the last moment of his life. Before 
 his death he was reduced to a state of great bodily 
 weakness; and from a curious passage in Dr. 
 Mouffet's Health's Improvement; or, Rules con- 
 cerning Food, we learn that he attempted to 
 sustain his decaying frame by reverting to the 
 food of infancy. The passage is as follows : 
 
 " What made Dr. Caius in his last sickness so 
 peevish and so full of frets at Cambridge, when he 
 sucked one woman (whom I spare to name), 
 froward of conditions and of bad diet ; and con- 
 trariwise, so quiet and well, when he sucked ano- 
 ther of contrary dispositions ? Verily, the diver- 
 sity of their milks and conditions, which, being 
 contrary one to the other, wrought also in him 
 that sucked them contrary effects." Notwith- 
 standing a)l these precautions, Caius died July 29, 
 ] 573, in the 63d year of his age, and was buried 
 within the chapel of his own College, in a grave 
 made some time before his death, which, it is said,
 
 30 
 
 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 he foretold ; and on his monument (of which an 
 engraving is subjoined) instead of a prolix epi- 
 taph, was placed in the laconic inscription : 
 
 FUI CAIUS.
 
 31 
 
 HARVEY. 
 
 THE lives of the two last eminent men are chiefly 
 remarkable as affording striking examples of the 
 combination of the scholar and physician, and 
 showing how much we are indebted to the pro- 
 fession of physic for the introduction of classical 
 literature, and the general revival of learning, 
 amongst us. The establishment of the College 
 of Physicians, and the characters of its founder 
 and of his immediate successor, have contributed 
 more than any thing else to promote and continue, 
 to the present day, that highly advantageous and 
 creditable union of the science of physic with the 
 scholastic attainments of the University. To this 
 fortunate occasion, the rank in society occupied 
 by physicians in this country (so much superior 
 to what they hold in any other) is chiefly to be 
 ascribed. But neither Linacre nor Caius, though 
 they advanced and adorned their profession by 
 elegant accomplishments, can be considered as 
 having given a new era to medical science, by any 
 great or signal discovery. 
 
 The subject of the present chapter calls up re- 
 collections that justly place his name in the highest 
 rank of natural philosophers. The same services 
 which Newton afterwards rendered to optics and 
 astronomy, by his theory of light and gravita-
 
 32 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 tion, Harvey conferred upon anatomy and medi- 
 cine by his true doctrine of the circulation of 
 the blood. 
 
 A short statement of what is meant by the cir- 
 culation of the blood, will enable us fully to ap- 
 preciate the value and importance of this great 
 discovery. And this may the more easily be done, 
 as the apparatus by which it is carried on, is, at 
 this time of day, probably the best understood of 
 any part of the animal economy. 
 
 Of the utility of the circulation, every one will 
 be immediately aware, when it is mentioned, that 
 one of its chief purposes is to distribute to every 
 part, every extremity, nook,and corner of the body, 
 the nourishment which is received into it, by one 
 aperture : What enters at the mouth, by means of 
 this function finds its way to the fingers' ends. 
 To effect this difficult purpose, two things are 
 necessary. 1st. A proper disposition of the blood- 
 vessels, which has been not unaptly compared to 
 the laying of the water-pipes in a populous city. 
 2d. The construction of the engine at the centre, 
 viz., the heart, for driving the blood through them. 
 In the case of the conveyance of water, one sys- 
 tem of pipes is sufficient ; but in the living body 
 another system of vessels is required, to reconvey 
 the blood back to its source. The body, there- 
 fore, contains two systems of blood-vessels, called 
 arteries and veins. The next thing to be consi- 
 dered, is the engine which works this machinery : 
 for this purpose there is provided in the central 
 part of the body a hollow muscle, viz., the heart, 
 by the contraction of whose fibres the four cavi- 
 ties of which it consists are squeezed together, so
 
 HARVEY. 33 
 
 as to force out of them any fluid they may happen 
 to contain. By the relaxation of the same fibres, 
 these cavities are in their turn dilated, and of course 
 prepared to admit any fluid which may be poured 
 into them. Into these cavities are inserted the great 
 trunks, both of the arteries which carry out the 
 blood, and of the veins which bring it back. The ar- 
 teries arise from cavities called ventricles ; the veins 
 pour their contents into cavities denominated auri- 
 cles. By the successive contractions and dilata- 
 tions of these several cavities of the heart, it has 
 been calculated that all the blood in the body 
 passes through the heart about once in four mi- 
 nutes. Consider what an affair this is, when we 
 come to very large animals ! The aorta (which 
 is the name given to the chief artery) of a whale 
 is larger in the bore than the main pipe of the 
 water-works at London -bridge, and the water 
 roaring in its passage through that pipe is inferior 
 in impetus and velocity to the blood gushing from 
 the whale's heart. 
 
 To render this short account more precise, it 
 must be observed, that with the apparatus men- 
 tioned above, two distinct circulations are carried 
 on. For besides circulating generally through the 
 body, the blood must come somewhere into conti- 
 guity with the air, in order to purify it, and change 
 its colour from dark to bright red. Hence the heart 
 is, as it were, a double organ, having a double 
 office to perform : of its four cavities, two are em- 
 ployed to carry on the general circulation, while 
 the remaining auricle and ventricle keep up the 
 smaller circulation 'through the lungs, where the 
 blood meets with the atmospheric air.
 
 34 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 Stated in this summary way, nothing seems 
 easier, more obvious, or more readily understood, 
 than the physiology of this great and important 
 function ; but until the name of Harvey it was in- 
 volved in the greatest obscurity, and mixed up 
 with all manner of contradictory absurdities. And 
 yet before his day many things were made out; 
 the valves of the veins, for instance, were known ; 
 the pulmonary circulation was understood, and 
 several other essential points had been established ; 
 still the great inference had never been drawn. 
 So often are we on the very threshold of a disco- 
 very, which by some fatality we miss ; and when 
 it is at length made, have only to express our as- 
 tonishment that we were so marvellously purblind 
 as to overlook it! 
 
 But the early life of Harvey, and the opportu- 
 nities of his education, led him step by step in the 
 brilliant career of his investigation, till it was 
 finally crowned with success. 
 
 William Harvey was descended from a respect- 
 able family in the county of Kent, and was born 
 at Folkstone on the 1st of April, 1578. He was 
 born in the house described as built of fair stone, 
 which, after his death, became the post-house of 
 the town, and which Harvey left by will, together 
 with some lands adjoining, to Caius College, Cam- 
 bridge. His younger brother, Eliab, would, it is 
 said, have given any money in exchange for it, be- 
 cause it was the paternal mansion, and all his bre- 
 thren had been born there ; but the doctor thought 
 that his own memory would be. better preserved, by 
 leaving it to the college where he had been edu- 
 cated ; besides, his brother Eliab, who had become
 
 HARVEY. 35 
 
 a very rich merchant, possessed noble seats of his 
 own, and was worth at least 3000^. per annum. 
 
 At ten years of age, he was sent to the gram- 
 mar-school in Canterbury ; and having there laid 
 a proper foundation of classical learning, was re- 
 moved to Gonville and Caius College, in Cam- 
 bridge, and admitted as a pensioner in May 1593. 
 After spending about five years at the University, 
 in those academical studies which are preparatory 
 to a learned profession, he went abroad for the ac- 
 quisition of medical knowledge, and, travelling 
 through France and Germany, fixed himself, in his 
 twenty-third year, at Padua. 
 
 The university of this city was then in the height 
 of its reputation for the study of physic, for which 
 it was principally indebted to Fabricius ah Aqua- 
 pendente, the professor of anatomy*, whose lec- 
 tures Harvey attended with the utmost diligence. 
 
 Fabricius taught the existence of valves in all the 
 reins of the body ; and from that moment his in- 
 telligent pupil endeavoured to discover the use of 
 these valves. 
 
 This inquiry was the foundation of his after 
 fame. He took his doctor's degree at Padua, in 
 1602, when he was only twenty-four years of age. 
 In the course of the same year he returned to 
 
 * There is still to this day exhibited to strangers at Padua, a very 
 ancient anatomical theatre, which is said to have been the one built 
 by Fabricius at his own expense. Circular seats, rising almost 
 perpendicularly one above the other, now nearly black with age, 
 give to the small apartment, which is wainscoted with curiously 
 carved oak, a most solemn and venerable appearance. The lectures 
 were given by candle-light, as, from the construction of the theatre, 
 no other light could be admitted ; but this, indeed, is. considered to 
 be the best mode of exhibiting to a class the various subjects which 
 are required for the elucidation of an anatomical lecture. 
 
 D 2
 
 30 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 England, and having again graduated at Cam- 
 bridge, settled in the practice of his profession in 
 London. In 1604 he was admitted a candidate 
 of the College of Physicians, and was elected fel- 
 low about three years after. About this time the 
 governors of St. Bartholomew's Hospital made an 
 order, that on the decease of Dr. Wilkinson, one 
 of the physicians to that charity, Dr. Harvey should 
 succeed him in that office, which event took place 
 in the following year. But the most important 
 appointment which be obtained, was that of reader 
 of the anatomical and surgical lectures at the 
 College of Physicians in 1615, when he was thirty- 
 seven years old. 
 
 He now seriously prosecuted his researches on 
 the circulation of the blood, and it was in the course 
 of these lectures that he first publicly announced 
 his new doctrines ; but though he taught his opin- 
 ions on this subject viva voce to his auditors, he 
 continued assiduously to repeat his experiments, 
 and verify his observations, for many years, before 
 he ventured to commit them to the press. 
 
 It is not intended to enter into the minute argu- 
 ments and physiological reasonings by which he 
 maintained the truth of his doctrine, but it may be 
 mentioned, that while Fabricius ab Aquapendente 
 had taught him, at Padua, that the use of the valves 
 of the veins was to moderate the flow of blood 
 from their trunks into their branches, Harvey 
 more rationally and more obviously insisted that 
 the valves were intended to facilitate the return of 
 the blood to the heart. Tie up a vein, or com- 
 press it, as is done in the simple operation of vene- 
 section, and you see the part of the vein at a greater
 
 HARVEY. 37 
 
 distance from the heart swell and become distended ; 
 whereas the contrary happens if you pass a liga- 
 ture round an artery. By this, and other similar 
 reasoning, he demonstrated that the heart heing 
 excited to contract by the stimulus of the blood, 
 that fluid is impelled through the arteries, and 
 having served every purpose of secretion and nou- 
 rishment, returns by the veins, to recommence its 
 circulation. Great, however, as was the discovery 
 of Harvey, his doctrine was not so complete and 
 perfect in all its parts as it has since been ren- 
 dered by the labours of later physiologists. In two 
 points, his system must be acknowledged, even by 
 his greatest admirers, to have been defective ; for 
 he does not seem to have been aware of the con- 
 tractile power of the coats of the arteries, nor to 
 have thoroughly understood the minute connexion 
 of the veins with the arteries. 
 
 Harvey's work cost him twenty-six years to 
 bring it to maturity ; his discovery was ill-received, 
 most persons opposed it, others said it was old, 
 very few agreed with him. He had, indeed, his 
 admirers; witness, for example, certain verses 
 which were addressed " To the incomparable Dr. 
 Harvey, on his Book of the* Motion of the He art 
 and Blood," in which these lines occur : 
 
 There didst thou trace the blood, and first behold 
 What dreams mistaken sages coined of old. 
 For till thy Pegasus the fountain brake, 
 The crimson blood was but a crimson lake, 
 Which first from thee did tyde and motion gaine, 
 And veins became its channel, not its chaine. 
 With Drake and Ca'ndish hence thy bays are curl'd, 
 Fam'd circulator of the lesser world. 
 
 But the epithet circulator, in its Latin invidious
 
 38 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 signification (quack), was applied to him by many 
 in derision, and his researches and discoveries 
 were treated by his adversaries with contempt and 
 reproach. To an intimate friend he himself com- 
 plained, that after his book of the circulation came 
 out he fell considerably in his practice, and it was 
 believed by the vulgar that he was crack-brained : 
 all his contemporary physicians were against his 
 opinion, and envied him the fame he was likely to 
 acquire by his discovery. That reputation he 
 did, however, ultimately enjoy ; about twenty-five 
 years after the publication of his system, it was 
 received in all the universities of the world and 
 Hobbes has observed, that Harvey was the only 
 man perhaps who ever lived to see his own'doc- 
 trine established in his lifetime. 
 
 The original MSS. of Harvey's lectures are 
 preserved, it is said, in the British Museum, and 
 some very curious preparations, (rude enough as 
 compared with the present ingenious methods of 
 preserving parts of the human body,)which either 
 he himself made at Padua, or procured from that 
 celebrated school of medicine, and which most 
 probably he exhibited to his class during his 
 course of lectures on the circulation, are now in 
 the College of Physicians ; they consist of six 
 tables or boards, upon which are spread the differ- 
 ent nerves and blood-vessels, carefully dissected 
 out of the body ; in one of them the]' semilunar 
 valves of the aorta are distinctly to be seen. Now 
 these valves, placed at the origin of the arteries, 
 must, together with the valves of the veins, have 
 furnished Harvey with the most striking and con- 
 clusive arguments in support of his novel doctrines.
 
 HARVEY. 39 
 
 The interesting relics just mentioned had been 
 carefully kept at Burleigh-on-the-hill, and were 
 presented to the College by the Earl of Winchelsea, 
 the direct descendant of the Lord Chancellor 
 Nottingham, who married the niece of the illus- 
 trious discoverer of the circulation of the blood. 
 The noble donor, in presenting them to the Col- 
 lege of Physicians, about eight years ago, ex- 
 pressed a hope, in a letter addressed to the 
 President, that these specimens of the scientific 
 researches of Harvey might be deemed worthy of 
 their acceptance, and thought that they could no- 
 where be so well placed as in the hands of that 
 learned body of which he had been so distinguished 
 a member. 
 
 The date of the first promulgation of his doc- 
 trine of the circulation is not absolutely ascer- 
 tained : it is commonly asserted that he first 
 disclosed his opinion on the subject in 1619, 
 after he had been lecturing four years. The 
 index, however, of his MS. in the British Mu- 
 seum, which contains the propositions on which 
 the doctrine is founded, refers them to April, 1616. 
 Yet, with a patience and caution peculiarly cha- 
 racteristic of the sound philosopher, he withheld 
 his opinions, as has been observed- before, from 
 the world, until reiterated experiment had amply 
 confirmed his system, and had enabled him to de- 
 monstrate it in detail, and to advance every proof 
 of its truth of which the subject is capable. 
 
 It was not before he had attained his 50th year, 
 that his " Treatise on the Motion of the Heart and 
 Blood, dedicated to Charles I." appeared, having 
 been committed to the press at Francfort, in 1628.
 
 40 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 His choice of this city for the place of publication 
 is supposed to have arisen from its celebrated fairs, 
 by means of which, books printed there were 
 rapidly circulated throughout all Germany and the 
 greatest part of Europe. 
 
 Some time before this, the reputation of Harvey 
 had recommended him to the notice of the court, 
 and he had been appointed physician-extraordi- 
 nary to King James I.; in 1632, he was made 
 physician to his successor, Charles I. By his 
 unfortunate royal master he was always treated 
 with regard and favour ; and the attachment to arts 
 and sciences> which formed a conspicuous part 
 of the king's character, contributed not a little to 
 promote and encourage the pursuits of our philo- 
 sopher. 
 
 It is not without a degree of pardonable vanity, 
 that Harvey describes his Majesty, with some of 
 the noblest persons about the court, as deigning to 
 be the spectators and witnesses of his experiments. 
 The interest King Charles took in the success of 
 his anatomical researches was of singular service 
 to him ; and, in particular, his majesty's favourite 
 diversion of stag-hunting furnished him with the 
 opportunity of dissecting a vast number of animals 
 of that species in a pregnant state. 
 
 About this time he appears to have gone abroad, 
 and to have accompanied the Lord High Marshal 
 of England, Thomas Howard, Earl of Arundel and 
 Surrey, as his physician, in his embassy to the 
 Emperor. Mr. William Hollar (who was then one 
 of his Excellency's gentlemen) told Aubrey, that 
 in his journey to Vienna, Harvey would always 
 be making excursions into the woods, making
 
 HARVEY. 41 
 
 observations of strange trees and plants, earths, 
 &c., and sometimes run the danger of heing lost. 
 So that, as the gossiping antiquary remarks, " My 
 Lord Ambassador would be really angry with him ; 
 for there was not only danger of thieves, but also 
 of wild beasts." 
 
 During his absence abroad, the Governors of St. 
 Bartholomew's Hospital allowed him to delegate 
 his office of physician to Dr. Smyth ; and soon 
 afterwards, in consideration of his professional em- 
 ployment at court, which obliged him to a close 
 attendance upon the person of the king, they ap- 
 pointed Dr. Andrews his assistant in the hospital, 
 continuing, however, the former salary to Har- 
 vey, out of regard for his great merit and signal 
 services. 
 
 On one of these occasional absences from his 
 professional duties in the metropolis, he accompa- 
 nied the king in a journey to Scotland. It was in 
 1633 that Charles went to his northern dominions, 
 attended by the court, for the purpose of holding a 
 parliament, and going again through the ceremony 
 of a coronation. The nobility and gentry of both 
 kingdoms are said to have rivalled each other 
 in expressing all duty and respect to the king, 
 and in showing mutual friendship and regard to 
 each other. No one could have expected, from 
 exterior appearances, the change that was ap- 
 proaching. While the court was occupied in these 
 flattering festivities, so soon to be followed by 
 acts of treacherous duplicity and scenes of tumult 
 and bloodshed, Harvey, whose mind seems never 
 to have been idle, made an excursion to the Bass 
 Rock, in the Frith of Forth, of which he has left
 
 42 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 an elegant and picturesque description. He in- 
 troduces it by way of illustrating some of his 
 notions relating to the formation of the egg-shell ; 
 and after quoting the opinions of Aristotle, Pliny, 
 and others, on this point of physiology, he con- 
 tinues in the following words : 
 
 " And now we are upon this subject, give me 
 leave to expatiate awhile. In the eastern barren 
 islands of Scotland, there is such a great abundance 
 of almost all sorts of sea-fowl, that if I should re- 
 late all that I have heard, though from persons of 
 great integrity, I fear I should be suspected to be 
 more fabulous than those several authors who dis- 
 course of the Scottish or Soland-geese, which they 
 pretend to be born from the fruit of certain trees 
 falling into the sea (which fruit or geese they them- 
 selves never saiv). However, I shall venture to 
 relate what my own eyes have seen. 
 
 " There is a little island, the Scots call it Bass, 
 (by this, reader, guess at the others,) it is not far 
 from the shore, seated in the main sea, and standing 
 upon a rugged and dangerous clift, (you may call 
 it rather one great continued stone or rock, than 
 an island) it is not above a mile about. The 
 superficies of this island (in the months of May 
 and June*) is almost covered quite over with 
 nests, eggs, and young ones, that for their infinite 
 abundance you can scarce set your foot in a spare 
 place, and such a mighty flock hovereth over the 
 island, that (like thick clouds) they darken and 
 obscure the day ; and such a cry and noise they 
 make, that you can hardly hear those that stand 
 next you. If you look down into the sea beneath 
 
 * It was in June that the king made his visit to Scotland.
 
 HARVEY. 43 
 
 you (as from a steep tower or precipice), you will 
 see it all spread over with several sorts of fowl, 
 swimming to and fro, in pursuit of their prey, 
 just as some ditches or lakes in the spring-time 
 are paved with frogs, or open hills and steep 
 mountains are covered with flocks of sheep and 
 goats. If you sail round the island, and look 
 up into the several clift's and caverns of it, you 
 will find them all peopled and inhabited with 
 several colonies of birds and fowl, of distinct 
 kind and magnitude ; more, indeed, than in a 
 clear night, when the moon is absent, there are 
 stars to be discerned in the firmament : and if 
 you observe the several regiments of those that 
 sally out and those that flock homewards at the 
 same time, you would take them for an infinite 
 swarm of bees. It is not to be imagined what a 
 vast yearly revenue the lord of the island maketh 
 of the plumes and the old nests * (which are use- 
 ful for firing), together with the eggs, which he 
 boils, and then trafncketh away : that which he 
 himself told me was indeed incredible. 
 
 "But one thing, which comes nearer to our 
 
 * It does not seem from this account of the island, that the 
 Solan-goose itself was, in the days of Harvey, held in esteem, as a 
 sort of luxury ; though about the middle of the 17th century, i. e. 
 about 50 years afterwards, Pennant states that a young one was sold 
 for 20d., and it maintained the same price in the time of the naturalist. 
 Then it was, and is still, served up roasted, a little before dinner, 
 as an article of Scottish friandise. Pennant gives the following affiche 
 of the sale of this delicacy. 
 
 "SOLAN GOOSE. 
 
 " There is to be sold, by John Walton, Jun., at his stand at the 
 Poultry, Edinburgh, all lawful days in the week, wind and weather 
 serving, good and fresh Solan geese. Any who have occasion for the 
 same, may have them at reasonable rates. 
 
 "Aug. 5, 1768."
 
 44 BRITISH PHYSICIAN'S. 
 
 purpose, seemeth to me remarkable in chief, 
 and doth give a clear testimony of the excessive 
 multitude; which is, that this island, as you ap- 
 proach it, shineth with a white glazing, and the 
 cliffs resemble mountains of the purest chalk, 
 though the native complexion of the stone be 
 obscure and black.* 
 
 " That which thus discoloureth the island, is a 
 white crust, which is friable, and of the very same 
 consistence, complexion, and nature with the egg- 
 shell ; t so that all parts of the island are plastered 
 over with this hard tegument, and crumbling or 
 friable crust of shell. The bottom of the island, 
 which the tide washeth every day, retaining still its 
 natural colour, clearly showeth that that fucus, or 
 sophisticated whiteness, proceeds from the birds. 
 None of these birds are citizens of the place, but 
 foreigners all, and resort thither for convenient 
 laying, and there they continue some weeks, as ir 
 an inn, till they and their young ones be all in a 
 condition to fly away together. But that white 
 rough cast is so solid, firm, and thick, that you 
 would think it were the genuine and natural sub- 
 stance of the soil," &c. 
 
 Soon after his return from Scotland, the anato- 
 mical skill of Harvey was employed, by the king's 
 command, in the dissection of that extraordinary 
 
 * The Bass Rock is principally composed of clink-stone, and be- 
 longs to the secondary trap rocks of the Wernerian. 
 
 t According to chemists, egg-shells are composed of carbonate of 
 lime and phosphate of lime, cemented by animal matter ; and Vauque- 
 lin asserts, that the excreted matter, alluded to by Harvey, consists 
 also of the same substances, together with the addition of a small 
 quantity of silica. Assuredly, Harvey did not know this ; but his 
 natural sagacity made him suspect their identity.
 
 HAUVEY. 45 
 
 instance of longevity, Thomas Parr, who died No- 
 vember 14, 1635, at the age of 153 years. He 
 was a poor countryman, who had been brought up 
 from his native county, Shropshire, by Thomas, 
 Earl of Arundel, and shown as a great curiosity 
 at court. At the age of 88, he had married his 
 first wife; at 102, he had done penance in church, 
 for a breach of the laws provided against incon- 
 tinency. When he was 120, he married again, 
 taking to wife a widow, with whom he is repre- 
 sented to have lived upon the most affectionate 
 terms. At 130, he had threshed corn, and done 
 other agricultural work, by which he gained his 
 livelihood. His usual habits of life had been most 
 sparing ; his diet consisting of coarse brown bread, 
 made of bran ; of rancid cheese, and sour whey ; 
 but when, on his arrival in London, he became 
 domesticated in the family of the Earl of Arundel, 
 his mode of living was changed, he fed high, 
 drank wine, and soon died. 
 
 According to Harvey, who opened his body, 
 his death was occasioned by a peripneumony, 
 brought on by the impurity of a London atmo- 
 sphere, and the sudden alteration of his diet. 
 There were adhesions of the lungs to the pleura 
 on the right side ; his heart was large, his intes- 
 tines sound ; but the cartilages of his ribs, instead 
 of being ossified, as they generally are in elderly 
 persons, were, on the contrary, soft and flexible 
 in this man, who was more than a century and a 
 half old. His brain was sound; he had been 
 blind for twenty years before his death, but his 
 hearing was distinct : his memory was very bad. 
 
 The civil wars at length breaking out, Harvey,
 
 46 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 who was attached to the king, as well by his office 
 as by gratitude and affection, followed the fortunes 
 of his master, and on his leaving London, in con- 
 sequence of the increasing tumults, attended him, 
 and was present at the battle of Edgehill, in 
 1642. 
 
 The royal army lay near Banbury ; that of the 
 parliament at Keinton, in the county of Warwick. 
 In the early part of the day, the advantage was 
 decidedly with the king ; but, from the impatience 
 of his body of reserve, who judging, like raw sol- 
 diers, that a complete victory was gained, heed- 
 lessly followed in pursuit of the fugitive troops of 
 the enemy, the tide of battle turned against 
 Charles, and towards its close everything wore 
 the appearance of a defeat, rather than a victory. 
 Some advised the king to leave the field ; but the 
 monarch rejected such pusillanimous counsel. The 
 two armies faced each other for some time, but 
 neither of them retained courage sufficient for a 
 new attack. All night they lay under arms ; and 
 next morning found themselves in sight of each 
 other. General, as well as soldier, on both sides, 
 seemed averse to renew the battle. Five thousand 
 men are said to have been found dead on the field 
 of battle ; and the loss of the two armies, as far as 
 can be ascertained by the opposite accounts, was 
 nearly equal. Both sides claimed the victory ; but 
 the king, except the taking of Banbury, had few 
 advantages to boast of, and a few days after the 
 battle continued his march, and took possession 
 of Oxford, the only town in his dominions which 
 was altogether at his devotion. Harvey, with the 
 rest of the royal household, retired to this city, and
 
 HARVEY. 47 
 
 there he was destined to remain some time. He 
 related to a friend, that, on the day of the hattle of 
 Edgehill, he had the charge of the Prince (after- 
 wards Charles II.) and of the Duke of York ; 
 while the fight was going on, he withdrew with 
 the young princes under a hedge, and took out of 
 his pocket a book, which he began to read. He 
 had not pursued his studies long, before a cannon- 
 ball grazed on the ground near him, which made 
 him remove his station. The following adventure, 
 also, had come under his notice : Sir Adrian Scrope 
 was dangerously wounded, and left for dead amongst 
 the slain, which happened to be the saving of his 
 life. It was cold, clear weather, and a frost came 
 on during the night (the battle of Edgehill was 
 fought on the 23d of October), which stanched 
 the bleeding of the wounded man; about midnight, 
 some hours after his hurt, he awaked, and was fain 
 to draw a dead body upon him for the sake of 
 warmth. 
 
 At Oxford, Harvey had abundant leisure to pur- 
 sue his favourite studies; though under the dis- 
 advantage of having lost many most valuable 
 notes of experiments, Avhich he had previously 
 made. At the beginning of the rebellion, his 
 lodgings at Whitehall had been plundered; and 
 his papers, containing his curious observations 
 upon the dissection of frogs, toads, and a number 
 of other animals, disappeared. This was a loss 
 which he never ceased to lament, saying, " fhat 
 for love or money, he could never retrieve or ob- 
 tain them." He was incorporated Doctor of Phy- 
 sic on the 7th December, 1642; and in 1645 was 
 made, by the king's mandate, Warden of Merton
 
 48 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 College, in the room of Dr. Nathaniel Brent, who, 
 in compliance with the prevailing party, had left 
 the University, and taken the covenant. It is 
 related of him, that, during his stay at Oxford, he 
 was in the habit of visiting George Bathurst, B.D., 
 at Trinity College, who had a hen to hatch eggs 
 in his chambers, which they daily opened to see 
 the progress and way of generation. This was a 
 very favourite study with Harvey, and forms the 
 subject of his other great work, second only in 
 importance to his doctrine of the circulation of 
 the blood. 
 
 The method above mentioned, of illustrating 
 this obscure function, he had adopted, because, to 
 use his own words, " Eggs were a cheap mer- 
 chandise, and were at hand at all times and in all 
 places ; and it was an easy matter to observe out 
 of them what are the first evident and distinct 
 works of generation ; what progress Nature makes 
 in formation, and with what wonderful providence 
 she governs the whole work." 
 
 At Oxford, where his stay must have exceeded 
 three years, he became acquainted with a young 
 physician, Dr. Charles Scarborough, who was 
 afterwards knighted by Charles II. Harvey de- 
 lighted much in the conversation of Scarborough, 
 who was, however, in these troublesome times, 
 much disposed to neglect his medical studies for 
 the more brilliant profession of arms. To check 
 this military ardour, Harvey took the young doc- 
 tor, and accommodated him with a lodging in his 
 own apartment, saying, " Prithee, leave off thy 
 gunning, and stay here; I will bring thee into 
 practice."
 
 HARVKY. 49 
 
 While at the university, lie is supposed to have 
 written a little book, in duodecimo, against Riolan, 
 in which he makes out his doctrine of the circula- 
 tion more clearly. But when diaries, in evil 
 hour, was persuaded to put himself in the power 
 of the Scottish army at Newark, and orders were 
 issued for the surrender of Oxford, Harvey was 
 obliged to resign his short-lived appointment of 
 Warden of Merton (Dr. Brent resuming his 
 office), and came up to London in 1646, and lived 
 with his brother Eliab, a rich merchant, who re- 
 sided opposite to St. Lawrence in the Poultry, and 
 who had also a country house at Iloeharnpton. 
 
 In 1649, he is said, by a contemporary writer, 
 to have travelled again into Italy, in company 
 with his friend, Dr. Ent ; but no other of his 
 biographers mentions this circumstance, and Au- 
 brey, the author alluded to, is not always to be 
 relied upon; for, as a late eminent critic observed 
 of him, " he thought little, believed much, and. 
 confused every thing." It is certain, however, 
 that Harvey withdrew from the world about this 
 time, and passed his time in retirement, in a 
 house which he possessed at Combe, in Surrey. 
 Here there was good air, and a pleasant prospect ; 
 and, to indulge a whim he had of delighting in 
 being in the dark, he caused caves to be made 
 in the earth, in which, in summer time, he was 
 pleased to meditate. In this seclusion he was 
 found, in the year 1651, by his intimate friend, 
 Dr. Ent : the result of whose visit was the pub- 
 lication of Harvey's second work, called his 
 " Exercitations on the Generation of Animals;" 
 which had employed almost as large a portion 
 
 E
 
 50 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 of his time as his immortal treatise on the circu- 
 lation of the blood. 
 
 " I found him," says Ent, " in his retirement 
 not far from town, with a sprightly and cheerful 
 countenance, investigating, like Democritus, the 
 nature of things. Asking if all were well with him, 
 ' How can that be,' he replied, ' when the state 
 is so agitated with storms, and I myself am yet in 
 the open sea ? And, indeed,' added he, * were not 
 my mind solaced by my studies and the recollec- 
 tion of the observations I have formerly made, 
 there is nothing which should make me desirous 
 of a longer continuance. But, thus employed, 
 this obscure life, and vacation from public cares, 
 which disquiet other minds, is the medicine of 
 mine.'" Ent goes on to relate a philosophical 
 conversation between them, that brought on the 
 mention of these papers of his, which the public 
 had so long expected. After some modest alter- 
 cation, Harvey brought them all to him, with per- 
 mission either to publish them immediately, or to 
 suppress them till some future time. 
 
 " I went from him," says Dr. Ent, " like another 
 Jason, in possession of the golden fleece, and when 
 I came home, and perused the pieces singly, I 
 was amazed that so vast a treasure should have 
 been so long hidden ; and that while others with 
 great parade exhibit to the public their stale trash, 
 this person should seem to make so little account 
 of his admirable observations." Indeed, no one 
 appears to have possessed, in a greater degree 
 than Harvey, that genuine modesty which distin- 
 guishes the real philosopher from the superficial 
 pretender to science. His great discovery was not
 
 II AHVKY. 5 1 
 
 publicly offered to the world, till after many years' 
 probation among his colleagues at home ; and the 
 labours of all the latter part of his life would 
 scarcely have appeared till after his death, had not 
 the importunities of a friend extorted them from 
 him. 
 
 The work obtained by Dr. Ent, consists chiefly 
 of a detail of facts and observations, which will not 
 easily admit of an analysis ; but the general infer- 
 ence to be drawn from the whole of these Exercl- 
 tations, seventy in number, is in favour of the 
 universal prevalence of oval generation. 11 is 
 chief example is the hen and chick ; he was the 
 first who pointed out the origin of the latter from 
 the cicatricula of the ovum, and who perceived the 
 punctum saliens to be the heart. He accurately 
 displays, as far as the eye could inform him, the 
 successive formation of the several parts ; and 
 herein corrects many ancient errors. He main- 
 tains that the formation of viviparous animals is 
 not different from that of birds. In perusing this 
 curious treatise, abounding as it does with anato- 
 mical observations, which are valuable from the 
 great attention and accuracy with which they were 
 made, the reader may perhaps be surprised to find 
 the theory of Harvey, on this obscure and myste- 
 rious function, so full of metaphysical arguments, 
 and resting at last upon an hypothesis incapable 
 of proof- 
 But there is a limit to all human knowledge. 
 Harvey was now in his 71st year, and the remain- 
 der of his life seems to have betn spent in acts of 
 generosity and munificence, which exhibit, in the 
 strongest point of view, the love he bore his pra~ 
 
 E 2
 
 52 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 fession, and the anxious desire he felt to secure 
 and promote its future interests. Having made 
 known one of his liberal intentions to the Pre- 
 sident of the College of Physicians, Dr. Prujean, 
 who then held that office, announced his design to 
 the Fellows assembled, in the following words : 
 " If I can procure one that will build us a library, 
 and a repository for simples and rarities, such an 
 one as shall be suitable and honourable to the 
 College, will you assent to have it done or no ; 
 and give me leave, and such others as I shall de- 
 sire, to be the designers and overlookers of the 
 work, both for convenience and ornament ?" 
 
 The College, as may readily be supposed, as- 
 sented most willingly to so liberal a proposal, and 
 voted the erection of the statue of Harvey, of 
 white marble, in the robes of a doctor, to be placed 
 in their hall, with a Latin inscription, alluding to 
 the two great works by which he had rendered 
 himself immortal, and hailing him as the perpetual 
 benefactor of their body ! 
 
 The building was now begun, and finished in the 
 following year, when Harvey invited his colleagues 
 to a splendid entertainment ; and the doors of the 
 museum being thrown open, the munificent old 
 man, in the most benevolent manner, and wishing 
 all prosperity to the republic of medicine, presented 
 ut once the mansion and all its valuable contents 
 to the College. He then laid down the office of 
 professor of anatomy and surgery, which he had 
 hitherto held ; and was succeeded in that appoint- 
 ment by that eminent anatomist, Glisson. 
 
 The building, or Museum of Harvey, as it was 
 called, is described as a noble edifice, of Roman
 
 HARVEY. 
 
 architecture, (of rustic work, with Corinthian pi- 
 lasters,) and consisted of an elegantly-furnished 
 convocation room, or parlour, below, and a library, 
 filled with choice books and surgical instruments, 
 above ; it was erected in the garden of the College 
 of Physicians, (at that time situated in Amen Cor- 
 ner,) which was of an irregular form, extending as 
 far as the Old Bailey to the west, and towards the 
 south reaching the Church of St. Martin, Lud- 
 gate, and the Museum must have stood near the 
 spot upon which Stationers' Hall has since been 
 built. On the outside, on the frieze of the edifice, 
 was the following inscription, in letters three inches 
 long, 
 
 Suasu et cura Fran. Prujeani, Prsesidis, et 
 Edmundi Smith, Elect. Inchoata et Perf'ecta 
 est Hffic Fabrica. An. MlQCLIII. (1653.) 
 
 The regulations of a public library in London, 
 established nearly two centuries ago, however 
 simple in themselves, may not be entirely without 
 interest. Besides medical books, the museum of 
 Harvey contained treatises on geometry, geo- 
 graphy, astronomy, music, optics, natural history, 
 and travels. It was to be opened on Fridays, from 
 two till five o'clock, in summer, but only till four 
 in the winter season ; also, during all meetings 
 of the College, and whenever else the custos or 
 librarian being at leisure, should choose to be pre- 
 sent; but no books were allowed to be taken out. 
 
 In 1654, on the resignation of the presidency by 
 Dr. Prujean, the College appointed Harvey, in his 
 absence, to succeed him, and proroguing the 
 meeting to the next day, deputed two of the elects, 
 Dr. Alston and Dr. Hainey, to acquaint him with
 
 54 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 this resolution. Harvey then came, and in a hand- 
 some speech, returned them thanks for the honour 
 they had done him, but declined the office,* on ac- 
 count of his age and infirmities ; at the same time 
 recommending the re-election of their former Pre- 
 sident, which was unanimously complied with. He 
 still, however, frequented the meetings of the Col- 
 lege. His attachment to that body was shown yet 
 more conspicuously in 1656; when, at the first 
 anniversary feast, instituted by himself, he gave 
 up his paternal estate of 561. per annum, in per- 
 petuity, to their use. The particular purposes of 
 this donation were the institution of an annual feast, 
 at which a Latin oration should be spoken in com- 
 memoration of the benefactors of the College, a 
 gratuity for the orator, and a provision for the 
 keeper of his library and museum. All this atten- 
 tion to perpetuate a spirit of concord and social 
 friendship among his brethren, was in full accord- 
 ance with Harvey's benevolent and liberal sen- 
 timents. 
 
 For two years longer he supported, with diffi- 
 culty, the burden of age and infirmities, and died 
 on the 3rd of June, 1657- When seized with his 
 mortal illness, he knew it was all over with him, 
 and sent for his nephews, among whom he began 
 to distribute some little presents : to one he gave 
 the minute watch, t with which he had made his 
 
 * He is, however, generally represented, both in his portraits and 
 in his bust, as wearing the robes of office of the President of tho 
 College. 
 
 t From a remark made by Harvey incidentally, in relating one 
 of his experiments, it would seem, that in his day, for all com- 
 putations less than a minute there was no very definite measure of 
 time. Speaking of the effect of warmth upon an incubated egg, oa
 
 HAUVEY. o;> 
 
 experiments ; to another, a different token, and so 
 on ; and made signs (for being seized with the 
 dead palsy, as his biographer expresses it, in his 
 tongue, he could not speak) to Sarabroke, his 
 apothecary, in Blackfriars, to let him blood in the 
 tongue : but it did no good. 
 
 His death is recorded by Hamey, in his curious 
 MS., in the following words. 
 
 Gulielmi Harvsei, fortunatissimi Anatomici, desiit sanguis 
 moveri, tertio Idus Junii, 57. cujusalioqui perennem motum, 
 in omnibus verissime asserverat. 
 
 Sepultus 26 Junii, 1657 quo die inaugurates est 
 Cromwellus. 
 
 More than three weeks, then, elapsed between 
 his death and funeral ; but as it was attended by 
 all the Fellows of the College to a considerable 
 distance from the city, it was, probably, upon a 
 scale of unusual magnificence, and some time was 
 required to make all the necessary arrangements. 
 To explain what Hamey says as to Cromwell's 
 inauguration, it must be observed, that the 
 usurper had been declared Protector four years 
 before, and had been then installed into that 
 high office with great solemnity ; in the year 
 1657? the title of king was offered him, which, 
 after an agony and perplexity of long doubt, he 
 felt obliged to refuse, though the representatives 
 of the nation, in the most solemn manner, ten- 
 dered the crown to him. " The Parliament, 
 when the regal dignity," says Hume, " was re- 
 jected by Cromwell, found themselves obliged 
 to retain the name of a Commonwealth and 
 
 the fourth day, he says, " Upon laying my finger warm upon it for tht 
 space of only twenty pulses." Exercitatio 17.
 
 56 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 Protector : and in order to sanctify the govern- 
 ment by a seeming choice of the people, framed, 
 what they called, an humble petition and advice ; 
 by this deed, the Protector had the power given 
 him of nominating his successor, had a per- 
 petual revenue assigned him, together with other 
 privileges. When this deed was accepted by the 
 people, Cromwell, as if his power had just com- 
 menced from this popular consent, was anew 
 inaugurated in Westminster Hall, after the 
 most solemn and most pompous manner." It 
 was to this second ceremony that Hamey alluded. 
 Harvey, notwithstanding the counter-assertions of 
 Laurence and all his other biographers, certainly 
 died, as Hamey says, in 1657, and was buried on 
 the 26th of June, of that year ; for on reference 
 to the Annals of the College of Physicians, it 
 appears that, on the 25th of that month, the fol- 
 lowing admonition to the Fellows of the College 
 was given : 
 
 Com. Solennia Trimestria. 
 
 25Junii, 1657. 
 
 Monerrtur Socii, ut togali prosequi velint exequias funeris 
 Drs. Harvaei, postero die celebrandas. 
 
 One who was at his funeral, says, that he lies 
 buried in a vault at Hampsted, Essex, which his 
 brother Eliab built ; he is lapt in lead, and on his 
 breast in large letters, was to be read 
 
 DK. WILLIAM HARTEY. 
 
 In his person he was very small in stature, 
 round faced, of an olive complexion, with small, 
 round, black eyes, full of spirit, and hair black as 
 a raven, till within twenty years of his death, when
 
 11ARVKY. 57 
 
 it became quite white. He is represented to have 
 been, like the rest of his brothers, very choleric in 
 his temper, and in his younger days to have worn 
 a dagger, which he would be apt to draw upon 
 slight occasions. But when he grew up to man- 
 hood, and during his long life, he had the cha- 
 racter of being candid, cheerful, upright living 
 on terms of great harmony with his friends and 
 brethren, showing no spirit of rivalry or hostility. 
 He was as little disposed by nature to detract 
 from the merits of others, as to make an ostenta- 
 tious display of his own. The many antagonists 
 whom his renown and the novelty of his opinions 
 excited, were in general treated with modest and 
 temperate language, frequently very different from 
 their own, and while he refuted their arguments, 
 he decorated them with all due praises. 
 
 He was a great martyr to the gout, and his 
 method of treating himself was as follows : He 
 would sit with his legs bare, even if it were frosty 
 weather, on the leads of Cockaine House, where 
 he lived for some time with his brother Eliab, or 
 put them into a pail of water, till he was almost 
 dead with cold, and then he would betake himself 
 to his stove, and so it was done. He was troubled 
 with insomnolency, and would then get up and 
 walk about his chamber in his shirt, till he was 
 pretty cool, or even till he began to shiver, when 
 he would return to bed and fall into a sleep. 
 
 He and his brother, who was a Turkey merchant, 
 drank coffee, before coffee-houses came into 
 fashion in London. His visits to his patients he 
 made on horseback with a foot cloth, his man 
 following on foot, in the same way in which the
 
 58 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 judges were then accustomed to ride to West- 
 minster Hall. 
 
 Every one will naturally wish to know what 
 sort of practitioner so eminent a physiologist was, 
 and in what esteem he was held as a physician by 
 his contemporaries. It appears that he died wortli 
 20,000, a sum not very considerable, when we 
 reflect that he must have been at least fifty years 
 in practice, and was besides a court physician. 
 One who, living with him on terms of intimacy, 
 ought to have known the truth, has asserted that 
 he was acquainted with several practitioners who 
 would not give threepence for one of his bills; 
 that his prescriptions were so complicated,* that it 
 was difficult to make out what he aimed at that 
 he was no chemist, and that generally his Thera- 
 peutique was not admired. 
 
 * The prescriptions of Harvey must have been multifarious 
 indeed, in their combination, to have deserved this sarcasm, for the 
 fashion of those days was to give very complex remedies. Perhaps 
 the moderns err in the other extreme, and affect too much simplicity,, 
 since it must be known to every physician of experience that a 
 combination of similar remedies will produce a more certain, speedy, 
 and considerable effect, than an equal dose of any one, even of the 
 most powerful, of the drugs, that enter into the prescription ; and this 
 is in accordance with that universal maxim in cookery, never to 
 employ one spice if more can be procured. The very curious 
 prescriptions ordered for his Majesty Charles II., on his death bed, 
 are preserved in the library of the Society of Antiquaries, but they 
 are more remarkable for the multiplicity of the signatures attached to 
 them, than for the variety of their composition ; they are signed by 
 no less than sixteen doctors ; the name of Charles Scarburgh (the 
 young physician whom Harvey patronized during his stay at Oxford) 
 standing the first of this large consultation, which is, with great 
 propriety, denominated Medicorum Chorut. According to court 
 etiquette, the names of all the subscribing doctors are written at full 
 length, and not, as in ordinary circumstances, indicated by their 
 initials only.
 
 HARVEY. 59 
 
 It is probable that Harvey was too much oc- 
 cupied in the pursuit of knowledge, too intent 
 upon making discoveries in the world of science, 
 to have cultivated the bahit of quickly discrimi- 
 nating ordinary diseases, or to have become very 
 expert and ready in the employment of the re- 
 sources and expedients of the practical art of me- 
 dicine. That his buisness declined after the pub- 
 lication of his doctrine of the circulation of the 
 blood, he himself complained of, and ascribed to 
 the opposition and jealousy of his rivals ; but it is 
 more likely that the habits of abstract speculation 
 in which he now began to indulge caused him to 
 neglect the usual arts of gaining the confidence 
 of the public, which if a physician once possess, 
 he needs not the countenance, and may boldly 
 set at defiance the envy, of his professional bre- 
 thren. The example of Harvey may be regarded, 
 therefore, as a splendid illustration of the truth of 
 the opinion of a late celebrated physician, as de- 
 clared in his posthumous work " That the most 
 successful treatment of patients depends upon the 
 exertion of sagacity or good common sense, 
 guided by a competent professional knowledge." 
 If anatomy alone were sufficient to make a great 
 physician, who ever could have been put in com- 
 petition with Harvey ?
 
 60 
 
 SIR THOMAS BROWNE. 
 
 THE celebrated author of the Religio Medici, was 
 born at London, in the parish of St. Michael, in 
 Cheapside, on the 19th of October, 1605. His 
 father, who was a merchant of an ancient family, 
 at Upton, in Cheshire, died during his infancy, and 
 he was placed for his education at the school of 
 Winchester ; but the early death of his father left 
 him exposed to the rapacity of a guardian, and his 
 mother marrying again, he found himself deprived, 
 as it were, of both parents, helpless and unprotected. 
 In the beginning of the year 1623, he was re- 
 moved from Winchester, and entered a gentleman - 
 commoner of Broadgate Hall, afterwards called 
 Pembroke College, Oxford. After he had taken 
 his Master of Arts degree, he turned his studies to 
 physic, and, first began, rather prematurely, as it 
 would appear, to practise his profession in Oxford- 
 shire. Here, however, he did not remain long 
 settled, but went over to Ireland with his father-in- 
 law, Sir Thomas Dutton, either for the purpose of 
 gratifying his curiosity, or induced by the promise 
 of some advantage to himself. But lhat country 
 had then little to attract the observation of a man of 
 letters ; and Browne soon quitted the sister island, 
 and passed over into France and Italy. To com- 
 plete his medical education, he prosecuted his 
 studies at Montpellier and Padua ; and after some
 
 SIR THOMAS BROWNE. 01 
 
 stay at these famous school?, returned home by 
 way of Holland, and was created Doctor of Physic 
 at the University of Leyden. 
 
 Of his travels we have no certain account; and 
 there remain no observations made by him in his 
 passage through those countries which he visited. 
 It is to be regretted, therefore, that we have lost 
 the pleasure and instruction which might have 
 been received from the remarks of a man so curi- 
 ous and diligent ; indeed it is to be lamented, that 
 those who are most capable of improving man- 
 kind, so frequently neglect to communicate their 
 knowledge, as if it were more pleasing to gather 
 ideas than to impart them, or because, to minds 
 naturally great, few things appear of so much im- 
 portance as to deserve the notice of the public. 
 
 Browne returned to London about the year 
 1634; and the next year is snpposecl to have 
 written the celebrated treatise, Religio Medici, 
 a work which was no sooner published, than it 
 excited attention in an extraordinary degree. It 
 first came out, as it was said, surreptitiously, in 
 itself a circumstance calculated to recommend 
 it to notice ; but besides this, it was distinguished 
 by much learning, great subtlety, and exuberant 
 imagination, and written in the strongest and most 
 forcible language. Such a book was, of course, 
 soon criticised ; and the correspondence that took 
 place between the critic, Sir Kenelm Digby, and 
 Browne, has been characterized as " affording an 
 ostentatious display of conscious unworthiness, 
 and desire of concealment, on the one part, and 
 pompous professions of reverence and anxious 
 apologies on the other." The letters that passed
 
 62 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 on this occasion provoked the bile of one who 
 himself spent his whole life in authorship, which 
 lie vented, by remarking sarcastically, " that the 
 reciprocal civilities of authors form one of the most 
 risible scenes in the farce of life." 
 
 When the Religio Medici appeared, the Earl 
 of Dorset had recommended it to the perusal of 
 Sir Kenelm Digby, who returned his judgment 
 upon it, not in a letter, but a book. Of this 
 Browne had been informed by the officious zeal of 
 some good- natured friend, and before the criticism 
 actually appeared. While it was still in the press, 
 the irritable author wrote a letter, entitled " Upon 
 the Information and Animadversions to come forth 
 upon the imperfect and surreptitious copy of 
 Religio Medici" In it, he assures Sir Kenelm, 
 " that that book was penned many years past, 
 and with no intention for the press, or the least 
 desire to oblige the faith of any man to its asser- 
 tions ; that it was contrived in his private study, 
 and as an exercise unto himself, rather than an 
 exercitation for any other ; that it had passed from 
 his hand under a broken and imperfect copy, which 
 by frequent transcription had still run forward 
 into corruption." " If, " he writes, " when the 
 true copy shall be extant, you shall esteem it worth 
 your vacant hours to discourse thereon, you shall 
 sufficiently honour me in the vouchsafe of your 
 refutation, and I oblige the whole world in the oc- 
 casion of your pen. Your servant, T. B." 
 
 The answer of Sir Kenelm Digby contained 
 the following passages : 
 
 " Worthy Sir, Speedily upon the receipt of 
 your letter of the third current, I sent to find
 
 SIR THOMAS BROWNE. 63 
 
 out the printer that Mr. Crook (who delivered 
 me yours) told me was printing something] under 
 my name concerning your treatise of Religio 
 Medici, and to forbid him any further proceeding 
 therein ; but my servant could not meet with him : 
 whereupon I have left with Mr. Crook a note to 
 that purpose, entreating him to deliver it to the 
 printer. I verily believe there is some mistake in 
 the information given you, and that what is printing 
 must be from some other pen than mine ; what I 
 writ was but the employment of one sitting; and 
 there was not twenty-four hours between my 
 receiving my Lord of Dorset's letter, that occa- 
 sioned what I said, and the finishing my answer 
 to him. I pretend to no learning : to encounter such 
 a sinewy opposite, or make animadversion upon 
 so smart a piece as yours, is requisite a solid stock 
 and exercise in school-learning; my superficial 
 besprinkling will serve only for a private letter, 
 or a familiar discourse with lady auditors. With 
 longing, I expect the coining abroad of the true 
 copy of that book, whose false and stolen one hath 
 already given me so much delight ; and so as- 
 suring you, I shall deem it a great good fortune 
 to deserve your favour and friendship. I kiss 
 your hand, and rest your most humble servant, 
 " Winchester House. KENELM DIGBY."* 
 
 The author of the Religio Medici may, perhaps, 
 in the ardour of his imagination, have hazarded 
 an expression which a mind intent upon faults 
 
 * Sir Kenelm Digby, a person, according to Lord Clarendon, 
 rery eminent and notorious throughout the whole course of his life, 
 from his cradle to his grave a man of very extraordinary person 
 and presence, which drew the eyes of all men upon him, of a fair
 
 64 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 may interpret into heresy, if considered apart from 
 the rest of his discourse ; but a phrase is not to 
 be opposed to volumes. There is scarcely a writer 
 to be found (whose profession was not divinity), 
 that has so frequently testified his belief of the 
 sacred writings, has appealed to them with such 
 unlimited submission, or mentioned them with 
 such unvaried reverence. Browne professes him- 
 self a Protestant of the Church of England, to 
 whose faith (he writes thus) 4i I am a born sub- 
 ject, and therefore in a double obligation sub- 
 scribe unto her Articles, and endeavour to observe 
 her constitutions : whatever is beyond, as points 
 indifferent, I observe according to the rules of my 
 private reason, or the humour and fashion of my 
 devotion ; neither believing this because Luther 
 affirmed it, or disproving that because Calvin hath 
 disavouched it ; I condemn not all things in the 
 
 reputation in arms, in a word, possessing all the advantages that 
 nature and art could give him. It is impossible, however, to acquit 
 him of excessive credulity, or of deliberate imposture ; for, on his 
 return from his travels, in 1623, he rendered himself remarkable by 
 the application of a secret he had met with abroad, which after- 
 wards made so much noise in the world, under the title of the 
 " Sympathetic Powder," by which wounds were to be cured, al- 
 though the patient was out of sight, a piece of quackery scarcely 
 credible. The virtues of this powder, Sir Kenelm main- 
 tained, were thoroughly inquired into by King James, his son, the 
 Prince of Wales, the Duke of Buckingham, with other persons of 
 the highest distinction, and all registered among the observations of 
 the great Chancellor Bacon, and were to be added by way of Ap- 
 pendix to his Lordship's Natural History. 
 
 On the breaking out of the civil war, he was by order of Parlia- 
 ment committed prisoner to Winchester House, but soon afterwards 
 set at liberty at the intercession of the Queen Dowager of France. 
 It was here, during his confinement, in 1643, that he wrote tha 
 " Observations," alluded to above.
 
 SIR THOMAS BROWNE. t>O 
 
 Council of Trent, nor approve all in the Synod of 
 Dort. In brief, where the Scripture is silent, the 
 Church is my text; where that speaks, 'tis but 
 my comment : where there is a joint-silence of 
 both, I borrow not the rules of my religion from 
 Rome or Geneva, but the dictates of my own rea- 
 son. It is an unjust scandal of our adversaries, 
 and a gross error in ourselves, to compute the 
 nativity of our religion from Henry VIII.,* who, 
 though he rejected the Pope, refused not the faith 
 of Rome, &c." Religio Medici, section 1, 5. 
 
 Such is Browne's confession of his own faith ; 
 and the opinion of one t who weighed well the ar- 
 guments for and against his orthodoxy, was, " that 
 all testimonies on the subject apparently concurred 
 to prove, that he was a zealous adherent to the 
 faith of Christ, that he lived in obedience to his 
 laws, and died in confidence of his mercy." 
 
 Of the novelty of the paradoxes with which this 
 extraordinary book abounds, the reader may form 
 some notion, from one or two extracts. 
 
 " There are a bundle of curiosities, not only in 
 philosophy, but in divinity, propose* and discussed 
 by men of supposed ability, which, indeed, are not 
 worthy our vacant hours, much less our serious 
 studies. 'Tis ridiculous to put off, or down, the 
 general flood of Noah, in that particular inunda- 
 tion of Deucalion ; that there was a deluge, seems 
 
 * According to Buchanan, the Scottish ! ,historian, who, to escape 
 the fury of the Franciscans, fled into England, towards the latter 
 end of Henry's reign, "Every thing .was upon so precarious a 
 footing, that those of both factions were burnt the same day, and 
 with the same fire ; Henry VIII. having more regard to his own 
 security than to the purity of religion." 
 
 f Johnson. 
 
 F
 
 661 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 not to me so great a miracle, as that there is not 
 one always. How all the kinds of creatures, net 
 only in their own bulks, but with a competency of 
 food and sustenance, might be preserved in one 
 ark, and within the extent of 300 cubits, to a rea- 
 son that rightly examines, it will appear very fea- 
 sible. There is another secret, not contained in 
 the Scripture, which is more hard to comprehend, 
 and put the honest father (St. Augustin) to the 
 refuge of a miracle ; and that is, not only how the 
 distinct pieces of the world and divided islands 
 should be first planted by men, but inhabited by 
 tigers, panthers, and bears; how America 
 abounded with beasts of prey and noxious ani- 
 mals, yet contained not in it that necessary crea- 
 ture, a horse, is very strange." page 61. 
 
 Again " Search all the legends of times past, 
 and the fabulous conceits of those present, and 
 'twill be hard to find one that deserves to carry the 
 buckler unto Sampson ; yet is all this of an easy 
 possibility, if we conceive a divine concourse, or 
 an influence ^om the little finger of the Al- 
 mighty." 
 
 In the Religio Medici^ the author speaks much, 
 and, in the opinion of Digby, too much of himself; 
 but yet so generally and concisely as not to afford 
 much light to his biographer ; but what most 
 awakens curiosity is, his solemn assertion, that 
 " his life has been a miracle of thirty years ; which 
 to relate, were not history, but a piece of poetry, 
 and would sound like a fable." 
 
 The wonders to which he alludes, were proba- 
 bly the visionary transactions of his own mind, 
 the result of self-love operating upon a vigorous
 
 SIR THOMAS BROWNE. 67 
 
 imagination ; for the biography of Browne does 
 not afford us any remarkable occurrences to relate ; 
 on the contrary, is as uniform and devoid of ad- 
 venture as that of the most- retired man of letters 
 could possibly be. His history, therefore, will be 
 chiefly comprised in the history of his works, 
 which were numerous, and full of interest and 
 curiosity. 
 
 Dr. Browne settled, in 1636, at Norwich, where 
 his practice soon became very extensive, many 
 patients resorting to him for advice; and in 1637, 
 he was incorporated doctor of physic in the Uni- 
 versity of Oxford. A few years after, he married 
 Mrs. Mileham, of a good family in the county 
 " a lady (as she is described) of such symmetrical 
 proportion to her worthy husband, both in the 
 graces of her body and mind, that they seemed to 
 come together by a kind of natural magnetism." 
 
 This marriage could- not but draw the raillery of 
 contemporary wits upon a man who had just been 
 wishing, in his " Religio Medici," that " we might 
 procreate like trees," and had lately declared, that 
 " the whole world was made for man, but only the 
 twelfth part of man for woman " and that man 
 " is the whole world, but woman only the rib, or 
 crooked part of man." Whatever were the opin- 
 ions of her husband, or by whatever motives the 
 lady herself had been induced to marry a man pro- 
 fessing such strange notions, she had no reason to 
 repent her choice, for she lived happily with him 
 one and forty years, and bore him ten children, of 
 whom one son and three daughters outlived their 
 parents. 
 
 In 1646, his work entitled Enquiries into 
 
 F 2
 
 68 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 Vulgar and Common Errors appeared, which, as 
 it did not arise, like his former one, from fancy 
 and invention, but from observation and the study 
 of books, and was an enumeration of many uncon- 
 nected particulars, must have been the collection 
 of years, and the result of a design early formed 
 and long pursued. Of its originality, and conse- 
 quent difficulty, he speaks himself in his preface 
 "We hope it will not be unconsidered, that we 
 find no open tract, or constant manuduction, in 
 this labyrinth ; but are ofttimes fain to wander in 
 the America and untravelled parts of truth. And 
 therefore we are often constrained to stand alone 
 against the strength of opinion, and to meet the 
 Goliath and giant of authority, with contemptible 
 pebbles, and feeble arguments, drawn from the 
 scrip and slender stock of ourselves." 
 
 Of this ingenious, amusing, and rambling far- 
 rago, a few specimens may be selected at random. 
 
 " The conceit and opinion of the Centaurs be- 
 gan in the mistake of the beholders, as is declared 
 by Servius, when some young Thessalians on horse- 
 back were beheld afar off, while their horses wa- 
 tered, that is, while their heads were depressed, 
 they were conceived by the spectators to be but 
 one animal, and answerable hereunto have their 
 pictures been drawn ever since." Pseudodoxia 
 Ejndemica, book i., page 13. 
 
 "The antipathy between a toad and a spider, 
 and that they poisonously destroy each other, is 
 very famous, and solemn stories have been written 
 of their combats ; wherein most commonly the vic- 
 tory is given unto the spider of what toads and 
 spiders, it is to be understood, would be considered.
 
 SIR THOMAS BUOAVNE. 
 
 For the Phalangium and deadly spiders are dif- 
 ferent from those we generally behold in England. 
 However, the verity hereof, as also of many other?, 
 we cannot but desire ; for hereby we might surely 
 be provided of proper antidotes in cases which 
 require them ; but what we have observed herein, 
 we cannot in reason conceal ; who having, in a 
 glass, included a toad with several spiders, we be- 
 held the spiders, without resistance, to sit upon 
 his head, and pass over all his body, which at last, 
 upon advantage, he swallowed down, and that iu 
 few hours, unto the number of seven. And in the 
 like manner will toads also serve bees, and are ac- 
 counted enemies unto their hives." p. 203. 
 
 " Wondrous things are promised from the glow- 
 worm ; thereof perpetual lights are pretended, and 
 waters said to be distilled which afford a lustre in 
 the night : and this is asserted by Cardan, Alber- 
 tus, Gaudentinus, Mizaldus, and many more. But 
 hereto we cannot with reason assent ; for the light 
 made by this animal depends upon a living spirit, 
 and seems by some vital irradiation to be actuated 
 into this lustre. For when they are dead, they 
 shine not, nor always while they live, but are ob- 
 scure or light according to the diffusion of this 
 spirit, and the protrusion of their luminous parts, 
 as observation will instruct us. For this flamme- 
 ous light is not over all the body, but only visible 
 on the inward side, in a small white part near the 
 tail. When this is full and seemeth protruded, 
 there ariseth a flame of a circular figure, and eme- 
 rald-green colour, which is more discernible in any 
 dark place, than day; but when it falleth and 
 seemeth contracted, the light disappeareth, and the
 
 70 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 colour of that part only remaineth. Now this 
 light, as it appeareth and disappeareth in their life, 
 so doth it go qnite out at their death As we hare 
 observed in some, which, preserved in fresh grass, 
 have li ved and shined eighteen days ; but as they 
 declined, their light grew languid, and at last went 
 out with their lives. Thus also the Torpedo, which 
 alive, hath power to stupify at a^ distance ; hath 
 none, upon contact, being dead, as Galen and 
 Rondeletius particularly experimented. And thus 
 far also those philosophers concur with us, which 
 held the sun and stars were living creatures, for 
 they conceived their lustre depended on their 
 lives : but if they ever died, their light must also 
 perish." p. 205. 
 
 In his chapter of the Bear, book iii., he says 
 
 " That a bear brings forth her young informous 
 and unshapen, which she fashioneth after by lick- 
 ing them over, is an opinion, not only vulgar, and 
 common with us at present, but hath been of old 
 delivered by ancient -writers. Upon this foundaT 
 tion it was an hieroglyphic with the Egyptians. 
 Aristotle seems to countenance it ; Solinus, Pliny, 
 and ^Elian directly affirm it ; and Ovid smoothly 
 delivereth it : but this opinion is repugnant unto 
 the sense of every one that shall inquire into it, and 
 Aldrovandus, from the testimony of his own eyes, 
 amrmeth that in the cabinet of the senate of Bo- 
 nonia there was preserved in a glass, a cub, dis- 
 sected out of a bear, perfectly formed, and com- 
 plete in every part." p. 123. 
 
 About the basilisk he is somewhat puzzled, but 
 of the wolf he speaks as follows : 
 
 "Such a story as the basilisk, is that of the
 
 SIR THOMAS BROWNE. 71 
 
 wolf, concerning priority of vision that a man 
 becomes hoarse, or dumb, if a wolf have the ad- 
 vantage first to eye him. So say Pliny, Theo- 
 critus, and Virgil and thus is the proverb to be 
 understood, when during the discourse if the party 
 or subject interveneth, and there ensueth a sudden 
 silence, it is usually said, Lupus est in fabula. 
 The ground, or occasional original hereof, was, 
 probably, the amazement and sudden silence the 
 unexpected appearance of wolves do often put 
 upon travellers ; not by a supposed vapour or veno- 
 mous emanation, but a vehement fear, which na- 
 turalJy produceth obmutescence ; and sometimes 
 irrecoverable silence. Thus birds are silent in 
 presence of a hawk, and Pliny saith that dogs are 
 mute in the shadow of a hyena." p/129. 
 
 These extracts will serve to show the nature of 
 this curious book ; which exhibits much shrewd- 
 ness and common sense, though the author of it 
 was not himself altogether free from the credulity 
 which he reprehends and exposes in others, as will 
 appear from the following anecdote : Browne 
 having heard a flying rumour of sympathetic 
 needles, by which, suspended over a circular alpha- 
 bet, distant friends or lovers might correspond, he 
 procured two such alphabets to be made, touched 
 his needles with the same magnet, and placed 
 them upon proper spindles ; the result was, that 
 when he moved one of his needles, the other, in- 
 stead of taking by sympathy the same direction, 
 " stood like the pillars of Hercules." Dr. John- 
 son, when relating this story, observes, in his 
 characteristic manner, " that it continued motion- 
 less will be easily believed ; and most men would
 
 72 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 hare been content to believe it, without the labour 
 of so hopeless an experiment. Browne might him- 
 self have obtained the same conviction by a method 
 less operose, if he had thrust his needles through 
 corks, and then set them afloat in two basins of 
 water." It is singular also, that notwithstanding 
 his zeal to detect old errors, he seems not very easy 
 to admit new positions ; for he never mentions the 
 motion of the earth but with contempt and ridicule, 
 though the opinion which admits it was then grow- 
 ing popular, and was surely plausible, even before 
 it was confirmed as an established truth by later 
 observations. 
 
 Having now twice experienced the delights of 
 authorship, "and become callous to the molesta- 
 tions of censure, he took an early opportunity of 
 appearing again before the public. In 1658, the 
 discovery of some ancient urns in Norfolk gave 
 him occasion to write " A Discourse of Sepulchral 
 Urns,"* in which he treats, with his usual learn- 
 ing, on the funeral rites of the ancient nations, 
 exhibits their various treatment of the dead ; and 
 examines the substances found in the urns dis- 
 covered in Norfolk. There is, perhaps, none of 
 his works which better exemplifies his reading or 
 memory. It is scarcely to be imagined how many 
 particulars he has amassed together, in a treatise 
 which seems to have been written for the occasion ; 
 and for which, therefore, no materials could have 
 been previously collected. 
 
 In his epistle dedicatory to his worthy and 
 honoured friend, Thomas Le Gros, of Crostwick, 
 Esquire, he observes, "when the funeral pyre 
 
 * Hydriotaphia, as h learnedly calls this treatise.
 
 SIR THOMAS BROWNE. 73 
 
 was out, and the last valediction over, men took a 
 lasting adieu of their interred friends, little expect- 
 ing the curiosity of future ages should comment 
 upon their ashes, and haying no old experience of 
 the duration of their reliques, held no opinion of 
 such after-consideration. But who knows the fate 
 of his hones, or how often he is to he hurled ?" 
 
 He thinks that the practice of burning and bury- 
 ing the body were equally ancient. According to 
 some tradition, Adam was buried near Damascus, 
 or Mount Calvary ; and Abraham and the pa- 
 triarchs were also buried. Hector was burned 
 before the gates of Troy. Among the Romans, 
 Manlius, the consul, burnt the body of his son; 
 but Numa, by a special clause in his will, was not 
 burnt, but buried ; and Remus was also solemnly 
 buried. The two ceremonies seem, therefore, to 
 have been coeval and indifferent. The origin of 
 cremation, or burning, he thinks, may be attributed 
 to the opinions of those ancient philosophers who 
 conceived that fire was the master principle in the 
 composition of our bodies ; and, therefore, funeral 
 piles were heaped up, in order to waft them more 
 speedily to their 'native element. But the Indian 
 Brahmins, he is rather disposed to think, " are too 
 great friends unto fire, for they imagine it the 
 noblest way to end their days in fire, and there- 
 fore burn themselves alive." He mentions the dif- 
 ferent modes of burying as practised by various 
 nations, and remarks that the rites of sepulture do 
 not seem to be confined to man, for there would 
 appear to be some approach to this practice among 
 elephants, cranes, ants, and bees; "the latter
 
 74 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 civil society," says Browne, " at least carry out 
 their dead, and hath exequies, if not interments." 
 
 The discovery which gave immediate occasion 
 to his Treatise, he relates in the following words : 
 
 " In a field of old Walsingham, not many 
 months past, were digged up between forty and 
 fifty urns, deposited in a dry and sandy soil not a 
 yard deep, not far from one another; not all strictly 
 of one figure, but most answering those described ; 
 some containing two pounds of bones, distinguish- 
 able in sculls, ribs, jaws, thigh-bones, and teeth, 
 with fresh impressions of their combustion ; besides 
 the extraneous substances, like pieces of small 
 boxes, combs handsomely wrought, handles of 
 small brass instruments, brazen nippers, and in 
 one, some kind of opale." p. 6. Coals and 
 cinders were dug up in the neighbourhood, from 
 which he conjectures that this was the place (us- 
 trina) for burning their bodies. The urns them- 
 selves, he supposes to be Roman, and either con- 
 taining the ashes of Romans themselves, or of 
 Romanized natives, who had adopted and observed 
 the customs of their conquerors. The spot was not 
 far from a Roman station or garrison, five miles 
 only from Brancaster, anciently called Brannodu- 
 num. He thinks that Britain was formerly very po- 
 pulous : and though many Roman habitations are 
 not known, yet that the Romans were at one time in 
 great number in this country, would appear from 
 the fact that 70,000, with their associates, were 
 slain in the battle in which Queen Boadicea com- 
 manded. That Britain was a conquest held in great 
 esteem by the Romans, there can be no doubt:
 
 SIR THOMAS BROWNE. 75 
 
 in fact, though so far removed from the capital of 
 the empire, no fewer than ten imperial persons had 
 visited it, viz., Ca?sar, Claudius, Britannicus, Ves- 
 pasian, Titus, Adrian, Severus, Commodus, Geta, 
 and Caracalla. 
 
 Of the precise antiquity of these reliques in Nor- 
 folk, nothing could be known, for there were no 
 ancient coins or medals enclosed within the urns, 
 which might lead to any conjecture about the date 
 of the interment. In some which had been dug 
 up " in Spittlefields (Spitalfields), near London, the 
 coins of Claudius, Vespasian, Commodus, Anto- 
 ninus, together with lachrymatories, lamps, bottles 
 of liquor, and other articles of affectionate super- 
 stition," had been discovered. From the thinness 
 of the bones in the Norfolk urns, particularly of 
 the skulls, the smallness of the teeth, and the slen- 
 derness of the ribs and thigh-bones, it was not im- 
 probable that many of them were the remains of 
 women, or of persons of tender age. After a very 
 learned dissertation upon the funeral customs of 
 the Greeks, the Romans, the Egyptians, the Jews, 
 the Danes, &c., he concludes in favour of crema- 
 tion^ or burning ; for, says he, " to be knaved out 
 of our graves, to have our sculls made drinking 
 bowls, and our bones turned into pipes, to delight 
 and sport our enemies, are tragical abominations, 
 escaped in burning burials." p. 17. 
 
 To this Treatise on Urn-burial, the author added 
 another upon the Garden of Cyrus, or the Quin- 
 cunxial Lozenge, or Net-work Plantation of the 
 ancients. It has been well observed that some of 
 the most pleasing literary performances have been 
 produced by learning and genius exercised upon
 
 76 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 subjects of little importance, as it seems to have 
 been the pride of wit, in all ages, to show how it 
 could exalt the low, and amplify the little. In the 
 prosecution of this sport of fancy, Browne con- 
 siders every production of art and nature, in which 
 he could find any decussation or approach to the 
 form of a quincunx ;* and as a man once resolved 
 upon ideal discoveries seldom searches long in 
 vain, he finds his favourite figure in almost every 
 thing, so that a reader might be led to imagine, 
 that decussation was the great business of the 
 world. Though he has, doubtless, carried this 
 notion to a laughable extreme, yet the fanciful 
 sports of great minds are never without some ad- 
 vantage to knowledge. Browne has interspersed 
 many curious observations on the form of plants, 
 and the laws of vegetation ; arid appears to have 
 been a very accurate observer of the modes of 
 germination, and to have watched with great 
 nicety the evolution of the parts of plants from 
 their seminal principals. 
 
 The tracts above alluded to are all which he put 
 forth during his lifetime ; but after his death many 
 papers were found in his closet, corrected and 
 transcribed by his own hand, and, to all appearance, 
 intended for the press ; several of which were after- 
 wards published. Of these posthumous treatises, 
 there may be noticed, " Observations upon several 
 Plants mentioned in Scripture." These remarks, 
 though they do not immediately rectify the faith, 
 or refine the morals of the reader, yet are by no 
 means to be censured as superfluous niceties, or 
 
 * A row or rank, in the form of a five in cards
 
 SIR THOMAS BROWNE. 77 
 
 useless speculations : they often show some pro- 
 priety of description, or elegance of allusion, ut- 
 terly undiscoverable to readers not skilled in 
 oriental botany ; and are sometimes of more im- 
 portant use, as they remove some difficulty from 
 narration, or some obscurity from precepts. A se- 
 cond of these tracts is entitled, " Of Garlands, 
 or Coronary or Garland Plants." A third is, 
 " A letter on the Fishes eaten by our Saviour with 
 his Disciples, after his Resurrection from the 
 Dead :" this treatise is unsatisfactory, however, 
 in its result, as all the information that diligence 
 or learning could supply, consists in an enumera- 
 tion of the fishes produced in the waters of Judea. 
 A fourth is entitled, " Answers to certain Queries 
 about Fishes, Birds, and Insects, and a Letter of 
 Hawks and Falconry, ancient and modern." This 
 last has some curious observations on the art of 
 hawking,* which he considers as a practice un- 
 known to the ancients. Another of his discourses 
 is, " On Languages, and particularly the Saxon 
 Tongue." 
 
 " So much," he observes, " of the old Saxon still 
 remains in our English, as may admit of an orderly 
 discourse and series of good sense, such as not 
 only the present English, but ^Elfree, Bede, and 
 Alfred might understand, after so many hundred 
 years. It is true that we have borrowed from the 
 French many substantives, adjectives, and some 
 
 * One of the oldest practices in falconry he mentions to have 
 been the following: -"If a hawk were unquiet, they hooded him, 
 and placed him in a smith's shop for some time, where, accustomed 
 to the continual noise of hammering, he became more gentle and 
 tractable."
 
 78 " BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 verbs ; but the great body of numerals, auxiliary 
 verbs, articles, pronouns, adverbs, conjunctions, 
 and prepositions, which are the distinguishing and 
 lasting part of a language, remain with us from 
 the Saxon." To prove his position, he has drawn 
 up a short discourse of six paragraphs, in Saxon 
 and English, of which every word is the same in 
 both languages, excepting the terminations and 
 orthography. These are specimens 
 
 SAXON. 
 
 The erst and fyrmost staep 
 to eal gode weorka is the 
 draed and feurt of the Lauord 
 of heofan and eorth while 
 thurh the Heilig Gast on- 
 lihtneth the blindnesse of ure 
 sinfull heorte to trsed the waeg 
 of wisdome, and thone Iced ure 
 fet into the land of blessung. 
 
 For to fuorgytan his laga 
 is the dure, the gat, and cseg, 
 to let in eal unrightwisnysse, 
 makend ure eyge, core, and 
 muth to answare the lust of 
 sin, ure braegan dole to gode 
 theoht, ure lippan dumb to his 
 preys, ure earen deaf to his 
 gospel, and ure eyge dim to 
 behealden his wundra, while 
 gewitnysse ongen us, that 
 wee cef noht wel gelsered the 
 weord of God, that wee are 
 the cilda of ured, unwyrthe 
 of the lufe and meenigfeald 
 gift of God, grediglice fely- 
 gend after the waegen of the 
 deoful and wiccraft of the 
 weorld, doend nothing to fry 
 and caep ure saula from the 
 
 ENGLISH. 
 
 The first and foremost step 
 to all good works is the dread 
 and fear of the Lord of heaven 
 and earth, which, thorough, the 
 Holy Ghost, enlighteneth the 
 blindness of our sinfull hearts 
 to tread the ways of wisedom, 
 and leads our feet into the 
 land of blessing. 
 
 For to forget his law is 
 the door, the gate, and key, 
 to let in all unrighteousness, 
 making our eyes, ears, and 
 mouths to answer the lust of 
 sin, our brains dull to good 
 thoughts, our lips dumb to 
 his praise, our ears deaf to 
 his gospel, and our eyes dim 
 to behold his wonders, which 
 witness against us, that we 
 have not well learned the 
 word of God, that we are the 
 children of wrath, unworthy 
 of the love and manifold 
 gifts of God, greedily follow- 
 ing after the ways of the 
 devil and witchcraft of the 
 world, doing nothing to free 
 and keep ourselves from the
 
 SIR THOMAS BROWNE. 
 
 79 
 
 ENGLISH. 
 
 burning fire of hell, till we 
 be buried in sin, and swal- 
 lowed in death, not to arise 
 again in any hope of Christ's 
 kiflgdom. 
 
 Which draw from above 
 the bitter doom of the Al- 
 mighty of hunger, sword, 
 sickness, and brings more sad 
 plagues than those of hail, 
 storms, thunder, blood, frogs, 
 swarms of gnats and grass- 
 hoppers, which ate the corn, 
 grass, and leaves of the trees 
 
 If we read his book and 
 holy writ, these among many 
 others, we shall find to be the 
 tokens of his hate, which ga- 
 thered together might mind 
 us of his will, and teach us 
 when his wrath beginneth, 
 which sometimes comes in 
 open strength and full sail, 
 oft steals like a thief in the 
 night, like shafts shot from a 
 bow at midnight, before we 
 think upon them. 
 
 Thus are we far beneath, 
 and also worse than, the rest 
 of God's works ; for the sun 
 and moon, the king and 
 queen of stars, snow, ice, 
 rain, frost, dew, mist, wind, 
 four-footed and creeping 
 things, fishes, and feathered 
 birds and fowls, either of sea 
 or land, do all hold the laws 
 of his will. 
 
 SAXON. 
 
 byrnend fyr of hell, till we 
 be geburied in synne and 
 swolgen in death, not to arise 
 agen in senig hope of Christes 
 kynedome. 
 
 While drag from . buf the 
 bitter dome of the Almagan 
 of hunger, sweorde, seok- 
 nesse, and bring mere sad 
 plag thone they of hagal, 
 storme, thunner, blode, frog, 
 swearme of gnajt, gsersupper, 
 while eaten the corn, goers, 
 and leaf of the treowen in. 
 ^Egypt. 
 
 Gyf we reed his boc and hei- 
 lig gewrit, these gmong mse- 
 nig othern, we sceall findan 
 the tacna of his hatung, while 
 gcgatherod together miht ge- 
 mind us of his willan, and 
 teac us whone his ured on- 
 ginneth, while sometima come 
 in open strength and fill seyle, 
 oft stsel gelyc a theof in the 
 niht, gelyc sceaft scoten fram 
 a boge at midneoht, beforan 
 we thinck uppen them. 
 
 Thus eare we far beneoth, 
 and ealso wyrse thone, the 
 rest of God's weorka ; for the 
 sun and mone, the cyng and 
 cquen of stearran, snaw, ise, 
 ren, frost, deaw, miste, wind, 
 feowerfet and crypend dinga, 
 fix, yefetherod brd and f;elan, 
 auther in sse or land, do eal 
 heold the lag of his willan.
 
 80 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 Besides the tracts already enumerated, he left 
 behind him one, of " Artificial Hills, Mounts, and 
 Burrows in England ;" another, " of the Answers 
 of the Oracle of Apollo at Delphos ;'* also, " A 
 Prophecy concerning the Future State of several 
 Nations;" and " Museum Clausum," in which 
 the author amuses himself with imagining the 
 existence of books and curiosities, which either 
 never were in being, or are irrecoverably lost. 
 
 There were also published, as posthumous works 
 of his, " Some Account of the Tombs and Monu- 
 ments in the Cathedral of Norwich," and " An- 
 swers to Sir William Dugdale's Inquiries about 
 the Fens," together with some other small pieces. 
 In the Biographia Britannica, is inserted a letter 
 of his, containing " Instructions for the Study of 
 Physic ;" and some essays, entitled " Christian 
 Morals," are attributed to him. 
 
 From the enumeration of these different works, 
 all exhibiting very great talent, ingenuity, and 
 acquirement, he will appear to have fully merited 
 the distinction conferred upon him by the College 
 of Physicians, who chose him an honorary fellow 
 of their body in 1665 ; and to have abundantly de- 
 served the character given of him on that occasion 
 virtute et literis ornatissimus, "eminently em- 
 bellished with literature and virtue." 
 
 But it is not on the praises of others, but on his 
 own writings that he is to depend for the esteem of 
 posterity, of which he will not easily be deprived, 
 while learning shall have any reverence among 
 men : for there is no science in which he does not 
 discover some skill ; and scarce any kind of know- 
 ledge, profane or sacred, abstruse or elegant,
 
 . SIR THOMAS BROWNE. 81 
 
 which he does not appear to have cultivated with 
 success. However, if his style has great excel- 
 lences, it must be allowed that it is not without 
 its faults. The pen of Johnson has characterized 
 it as "vigorous, hut rugged; learned, but pedantic; 
 deep, but obscure ;" with other pointed antitheses, 
 in a manner not altogether free from the defects 
 which he is himself reprehending. 
 
 The high strain of moral reflection with which 
 Browne closes his Treatise on Urn -burial, affords 
 passages of splendid eloquence that cannot easily 
 be equalled. For example 
 
 "There is no antidote against the opium of time, 
 which temporally considereth all things. Our fa- 
 thers find their graves in our short memories, and 
 sadly tell us how we may be buried in 'our sur- 
 vivors'. To be read by bare inscriptions, like many 
 in Gruter; to hope for eternity by any metrical 
 epithets, or first letters of our names ; to be 
 studied by antiquaries who we were, and have 
 new names given us like many of the mummies, 
 are cold consolations unto the students of perpe- 
 tuity, even by everlasting languages. 
 
 "The night of time far surpasseth the day who 
 knows when was the eequinox ? Every hour adds 
 unto that current arithmetic, which scarce stands 
 one moment. Darkness and light divide the 
 course of time, and oblivion shares with memory 
 a great part even of our living beings. "Who 
 knows whether the best of men be known ; or 
 whether there be not more remarkable persons 
 forgot than any that stand remembered in the 
 known account of time? The sufficiency of Chris- 
 tian immortality frustrates all earthly glory, and 
 
 G
 
 82 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 the quality of either state, after death, makes a 
 folly of posthumous memory. But man is a noble 
 animal, splendid in ashes and pompous in the 
 grave, solemnizing nativities and deaths with equal 
 lustre, nor omitting ceremonies of bravery in the 
 infamy of his nature." 
 
 In 1671, Browne received the honour of knight- 
 hood from Charles II. at Norwich, where he con- 
 tinued to live in high reputation, till, in his 76th 
 year, he was seized with a colic, which, after hav- 
 ing tortured him about a week, put an end to his 
 life, October 19, 1682. 
 
 Of the brilliant qualities of the mind of Sir Tho- 
 mas Browne, the reader may judge by consulting 
 his works ; for an account of his minute peculiari- 
 ties we are indebted to the hand of friendship. Mr. 
 Whitefoot, who knew him intimately, says, " His 
 complexion and hair were, like his name, brown, 
 his stature moderate, his habit of body neither fat 
 nor lean. In his clothing, he had an aversion to 
 all finery, and affected plainness both in the fash- 
 ion and ornament. He kept himself always very 
 warm, and thought it most safe so to do, though 
 he never loaded himself with such a multitude of 
 garments as Suetonius reports of Augustus, enough 
 to clothe a good family. He was never seen to be 
 transported with mirth, or dejected with sadness. 
 Always cheerful, but rarely merry; seldom heard 
 to break a jest, and when he did he would be apt 
 to blush at the levity of it: his gravity was natural 
 without affectation. Parsimonious in nothing but 
 his time, whereof he made as much improvement 
 with as little loss as any man in it ; when he had 
 any to spare from his practice, he was scarce pa-
 
 SIR THOMAS BROWNE. 83 
 
 tient of any diversion from his study : so impatient 
 of sloth and idleness, that he would say, tie could 
 not do nothing. He understood most of the Euro- 
 pean languages, Latin and Greek critically, and a 
 little Hebrew. He went to church constantly, 
 when he was not prevented by his practice, and 
 never missed the sacrament of his parish if he 
 was in town (Norwich). He read the best Eng- 
 lish sermons he could hear of, and delighted not 
 in controversies. He might have made good the 
 old saying of Dot Galenus opes, had he lived in a 
 place that could have afforded it, but there was 
 small scope at Norwich to acquire great profes- 
 sional gains." He was indulgent and liberal to 
 his children; two of his sons travelled into various 
 countries, and two of his daughters were sent to 
 France. Such expenses, added to his hospitality 
 and abundant charities, prevented the accumula- 
 tion of a large fortune ; but he bequeathed a com- 
 fortable estate to his widow and children. On 
 his monument, in the church of St. Peter Man- 
 croft, Norwich, is the following inscription ; 
 
 Near the Foot of this Pillar 
 
 Lies Sir Thomas Browne, Kt. and Doctor in Physick. 
 Author of Religio Medici, and other Learned Books, 
 
 Who practic'd Physick in this city 46 years, 
 And died Oct. 1682, in the 77 year of his Age, 
 
 In Memory of whom 
 
 Dame Dorothy Browne, who had bin his Affectionate 
 
 Wife 41 Years, caused this Monument' 
 
 to be Erected.
 
 84 
 
 SYDENHAM. 
 
 THIS great man effected a real revolution in phy- 
 sic, and no one ever had a more just claim to the 
 title of a restorer of true medical science. But 
 his was the triumph, not so much of transcendent 
 genius, as of good sense over vague hypothe- 
 sis: to him the praise belongs of having been 
 an accurate observer, who, endowed with great sa- 
 gacity, conducted his researches with skill, and 
 was guided by a sure method in all his investig 
 tions. In a word, no physician ever exerted so 
 beneficial an influence over that branch of the art, 
 to which all others are subservient, viz. its practi- 
 cal application. His claims to our admiration will 
 appear the greater, if we reflect for a moment, 
 that he lived at a time when chemistry, and the 
 sect of the mathematical physicians, were in the 
 highest vogue ; and pause to consider the difficul- 
 ties which he must have encountered, when he 
 recommended to his countrymen to follow the 
 footsteps of nature and experience. 
 
 Thomas Sydenham was born in the year 1624, 
 at Wynford Eagle, in Dorsetshire, where his fa- 
 ther, William Sydenham, Esq. had a large fortune. 
 The house in which he was born was formerly a 
 considerable mansion, but it is now converted into 
 a farm-house, and stands on the property of the 
 present Lord Wynford.
 
 SYDENHAM. 
 
 85
 
 86 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 Under whose care he was educated, or in what 
 manner he passed his childhood what youthful 
 discoveries he made of a genius peculiarly adapted 
 to the study of nature what presages of his future 
 eminence in medicine he afforded no information 
 is to be obtained. That he gave some early indi- 
 cations of talent can, however, scarcely be doubted, 
 since it has been observed, that there is no in- 
 stance of any man, whose history has been mi- 
 nutely related, that did not in every part of his life 
 discover the same proportion of intellectual vigour. 
 At the age of eighteen, he was entered a com- 
 moner of Magdalen Hall, Oxford, in midsummer 
 term, 1642, but left the university as soon as it 
 became a garrison for Charles I. Now the battle 
 of Edge Hill was fought in the month of October 
 of that year, and a few days afterwards the king 
 retired to Oxford. At this distance of time, it is 
 curious to speculate whether the young Sydenham, 
 a freshman at College, could by any possibility 
 have become acquainted with the great discoverer 
 of the circulation of the blood, then in attendance 
 upon the unfortunate monarch : probably not. It 
 is certain they espoused different sides in politics : 
 for while Harvey was a staunch royalist, Syden- 
 ham joined the army of the Parliament, though 
 he spent a few years only in the camp, and never 
 attained a higher rank than that of captain. His 
 ultimate choice of a profession was determined 
 by an accidental acquaintance with Dr. Coxe, a 
 physician eminent at that time in London, who 
 in some sickness prescribed for the brother of 
 Sydenham, and, entering into conversation with 
 him, inquired what walk of life he designed to
 
 SYDENHAM. 87 
 
 follow. The young man answering that he was 
 undetermined, the doctor recommended physic to 
 him, and his persuasion was so effectual, that he 
 returned to Oxford, for the purpose of enjoying 
 leisure and opportunity to pursue his medical 
 studies. Here he employed himself with dili- 
 gence ; and was created bachelor of physic, April 
 14, 1648, at the visitation of the university by the 
 Earl of Pembroke. 
 
 It is not true, therefore, as has been asserted by 
 Sir Richard Blackmore, that " he was made a 
 physician by accident and necessity, without any 
 preparatory discipline, or previous knowledge, and 
 that he never deigned to take it up as a profes- 
 sion, till the civil wars were composed, when, 
 feeing a disbanded officer, he entered upon it for a 
 maintenance." Sir Richard, after hazarding these 
 assertions, tells us in proof of them the following 
 story : " When one day I asked Sydenham to 
 advise me what books I should read to qualify me 
 for practice ' Read Don Quixote,' replied he, ' it is 
 a very good book, I read it still.' So low an opin- 
 ion," continues the knight, " had this celebrated 
 man of the learning collected out of the authors, 
 his predecessors." Upon this story it has been 
 shrewdly remarked, " That Sydenham recommend- 
 ed Don Quixote to Blackmore, we are not allowed 
 to doubt ; but the relater is hindered by that self- 
 love which dazzles all mankind from discovering 
 that he might intend a satire, very different from 
 a general censure, of all the ancient and modern 
 writers on medicine, since he might, perhaps, 
 mean, either seriously or in jest, to insinuate that 
 Blackmore was not adapted by nature to the study
 
 88 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 of physic, and that whether he should read Cer- 
 vantes or Hippocrates, he would be equally un- 
 qualified for practice, and equally unsuccessful in 
 it." Thus does Johnson repel the charge brought 
 against Sydenham, of haying commenced practice 
 without previous study; but why it should be 
 thought necessary to deny that he exercised his 
 profession for a maintenance, does not seem very 
 obvious; his father, indeed, may be allowed to 
 have been a gentleman of plentiful estate, and 
 j r et the son require the emoluments of a gainful 
 profession; and who has ever practised physic, 
 and risen to any eminence in it, who has disdained 
 to receive the reward of his skill and diligence ? 
 
 About this time, Sydenham was elected a fel- 
 low of All Souls' College, and remained some 
 years at Oxford, studying his profession, but he 
 took his doctor's degree at Cambridge. 
 
 On leaving the English universities, he travelled 
 to Montpellier, at that time the most celebrated 
 school of physic, in quest of further information, 
 and on his return to his native country, settled in 
 Westminster, where he soon rose to eminence as 
 a practitioner. In 1663, on the 25th June, when 
 he was thirty-nine years of age, he was admitted 
 a member of the College of Physicians of London. 
 The biography of Sydenham is remarkably barren 
 of events, more so, perhaps, than that of any 
 other eminent physician, and it is only by perusing 
 his works carefully, that one is enabled to pick up 
 a few solitary facts illustrative of his private his- 
 tory. Of his published treatises, it has been said, 
 that most of them were extorted from him by his 
 friends, and several written, by way of letter, to
 
 SYDENHAM. 89 
 
 gentlemen who desired his opinion on any parti- 
 cular suhject, or pressed him to make public what 
 observations he had made. 
 
 His " Methodus Curandi Febres, &c. " ap- 
 peared for the first time in 1666, and the chapter 
 on small-pox, which it contains, is extremely 
 interesting, not only because it presents us with 
 his novel method of treating the disease, but be- 
 cause it furnishes a most curious example of the 
 caution with which he reasoned upon the cause or 
 origin of that formidable malady. It has lately 
 been asserted, that no hint whatever is to be 
 found in the writings of Sydenham, that he thought 
 the small-pox could arise from contagion ; a trace, 
 however, is discoverable in the treatise of which 
 we are now speaking, that the idea had once 
 crossed his mind, though he ultimately rejected it. 
 To enlarge upon this very curious piece of medical 
 literature, would here be out of place ; yet the ge- 
 neral reader can scarcely fail to be surprised, that 
 so obvious a property as the contagious nature of 
 the small-pox, should have escaped the sagacity of 
 such a man as Sydenham. So, however, it was ! 
 
 As to his practice in that disease, it is best ex- 
 plained in his own words " I see no reason," 
 says he, " why the patient should be kept stifled 
 in bed, but rather that he may rise and sit up a 
 few hours every day, provided the injuries arising 
 from the extremes of heat and cold be prevented, 
 both with respect to the place wherein he lies, and 
 his manner of clothing." The rivals of Syden- 
 ham contended, that the whole of his treatment 
 consisted in doing nothing, and that he made a 
 great stir about what, according to him, might be
 
 90 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 comprehended in two words nihil agendum. This 
 opposition on the part of his medical brethren, to- 
 gether with the prejudices of mankind, threw many 
 obstacles in the way of its general adoption, but 
 its author foretold with confidence, and with truth, 
 that, after his own death, it would prevail. The fact 
 is, that though Sydenham lived in the first degree 
 of reputation, enjoyed the friendship and acquaint- 
 ance of many of the most eminent men of his day, 
 amongst others, that of the illustrious Locke, and 
 was in very considerable practice, yet he never 
 possessed that overwhelming ascendency and irre- 
 sistible popularity which his immediate successor 
 attained. Nor were the improvements of Syden- 
 ham fully appreciated by the world, till they were 
 forced upon the notice of the public by Radcliffe, 
 who, in this way, advanced the art of medicine 
 much more than by any original discoveries of 
 his own. 
 
 The part he took in the civil wars, and the 
 politics of his brother, William Sydenham, who, 
 under the Protectorate, obtained many high ap- 
 pointments, amongst others, the post of governor of 
 the Isle of Wight, might possibly have kept him 
 out of favour with the court ; in truth, he appears 
 to have been desirous only of conscientiously doing 
 his duty to the utmost of his power, and chiefly 
 anxious to practise his profession in the most 
 unostentatious manner. His distaste for popu- 
 larity (for it could not be affectation in so candid 
 a, nature) may be inferred from these expres- 
 sions, in the epistle prefixed to his chapter on the 
 gout : " I do not much value public applause ; 
 and, indeed, if the matter be rightly weighed, the
 
 SYDENHAM. 9l 
 
 providing for esteem (I being now an old man) 
 will be, in a short time, the same as to provide for 
 that which is not : for what advantage will it be 
 to me after I am dead, that eight alphabetical ele- 
 ments, reduced into that order that will compose 
 my name, shall be pronounced by those who come 
 after me ?" 
 
 At the commencement of his professional life, 
 it is handed down to us by tradition, that it was 
 his ordinary custom, when consulted by patients 
 for the first time, to hear attentively the story of 
 their complaints, and then say, " Well, I will con- 
 sider of your case, and in a few days will order 
 something for you." But he soon discovered that 
 this deliberate method of proceeding was not satis- 
 factory, and that many of the persons so received 
 forgot to come again ; and he was consequently 
 obliged to adopt the usual practice of prescribing 
 immediately for the diseases of those who sought 
 his advice. 
 
 Ha In 1668, a new edition of his Methodus, &c., 
 appeared, to which was added a chapter upon the 
 great plague of 1665. Sydenham observes, that 
 some might think him rash and arrogant, for pre- 
 tending to write upon this subject, as he was seve- 
 ral miles distant from the city, during the greatest 
 part of the time the plague raged, and therefore 
 might be supposed not to be sufficiently furnished 
 with observations : but " seeing that more skilful 
 physicians, who bravely ventured to continue dur- 
 ing so very dangerous a time, have not yet written 
 upon that subject, he hopes that all good men 
 will pardon him for publishing his opinion upon 
 that dreadful national calamity." It seems that he
 
 92 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 remained in the metropolis till about tlie middle of 
 June, 1665, about which time the plague raged so 
 cruelly, that in the space of seven days it destroyed 
 as many thousands in London. Then, being en- 
 dangered by the near approach of the pestilence 
 to his own house, at length by the persuasion of 
 friends, he accompanied the vast numbers of those 
 that left the city, and removed his family some 
 miles from thence. 
 
 The scene he left behind was of this appalling 
 description : la the months of August and Sep- 
 tember, three, four, or five thousand died in a week: 
 once eight thousand. In some houses carcases lay 
 waiting for burial ; and in others, persons in their 
 last agonies. In one room were heard dying groans, 
 in another the ravings of delirium, and not far off 
 relations and friends bewailing their loss, and the 
 dismal prospect of their own departure. Some of 
 the infected ran about staggering like drunken 
 men, and fell and expired in the streets ; others 
 lay comatose, never to be awakened but by the 
 last trump ; others fell dead in the market while 
 buying necessaries for the support of life ; the 
 divine was taken in the exercise of his priestly 
 office, and physicians found no safety in their own 
 antidotes, but died administering them to others. 
 It was not uncommon to see an inheritance pass 
 successively to three or four heirs in as many days. 
 The number of sextons was not sufficient to bury 
 the dead. The bells seemed hoarse with continued 
 tolling, and at last ceased. The burial places 
 could not hold the dead : they were thrown into 
 large pits dug in waste grounds, in heaps of thirty 
 or forty together. It often happened that those
 
 SYDENHAM. 93 
 
 who attended the fiNierals of their friends one 
 evening, were the next carried to their own long 
 home ; and yet the Avorst was not certain, for the 
 disease, as yet, had no relaxation." Such is the 
 relation of an eye-witness,* who was one of the 
 physicians appointed by government to visit the 
 sick. 
 
 The first appearance of this dreadful pestilence 
 is thus described : " Towards the close of the"year 
 1664, two or three persons died suddenly, at- 
 tended with symptoms that plainly manifested the 
 nature of the disease : hereupon some timid neigh- 
 bours moved into the city, and unfortunately 
 carried the contagion with them ; and, for want of 
 confining the persons who were first seized, the 
 whole city was, in a little time, irrecoverably in- 
 fected. As soon as it was rumoured that the 
 plague was in the city, it was impossible to relate 
 what accounts were spread of its fatality ; every 
 one predicted its future devastations, and terrified 
 each other with remembrance of a former pesti- 
 lence. It seems quite ascertained, that it was 
 imported into London by goods from Holland, 
 brought thither from the Levant, and first broke 
 out in a house in Long -acre, near the end of 
 Drury-lane, where those goods were carried, and 
 first opened ; two Frenchmen dying, the family 
 endeavoured to conceal it, but it spread from that 
 house to others, by the unwary communication 
 with those who were sick ; and infected the parish- 
 officers who were employed about the dead: it 
 went on, and proceeded from person to person, 
 from house to house. 
 
 * Hodges Loimologia.
 
 94 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 " In the first house that was infected, there died 
 four persons ; a neighbour, hearing that the mis- 
 tress of the house was ill, visited her, and carried 
 home the distemper to her family, and died, with 
 all her household. A minister, called to pray with 
 the first sick person in the second house, was said 
 to sicken and die immediately, with several more 
 in his family. A Frenchman, who lived near the 
 infected houses, removed for fear of the dis- 
 temper, into Bearbinder lane, and died, to the 
 great affliction of the city. Then the physicians 
 began to deliberate, for they did not at first imagine 
 it to be a general contagion ; but the Secretaries 
 of State got notice of it, and ordered two physi- 
 cians and a surgeon to inspect the bodies, who 
 assured the people, that it was neither more nor 
 less than the plague, with all its terrifying parti- 
 culars; and that it threatened a universal infec- 
 tion, so many people having already conversed 
 with the sick or distempered, and having, as 
 might be supposed, received infection from them, 
 that it might be impossible to put a stop to it. 
 This filled people's heads so, that few cared to go 
 through Drury-lane. 
 
 ",As soon as the magistracy, to whom the public 
 care belonged, saw how the contagion daily in- 
 creased, and had now extended itself to several 
 parishes, an order was immediately issued out, to 
 shut up all the infected houses, that neither rela- 
 tions nor acquaintance might unwarily receive it 
 from them ; and to keep the infected from carrying 
 it about with them. 
 
 " Terror and apprehension now led the multitude 
 into a thousand weak and absurd things, which
 
 SYDEXHAM. 95 
 
 there wanted not persons wicked enougli to encou- 
 rage : people were seen running about to fortune- 
 tellers, cunning men, and astrologers, to have 
 their nativities cast, and to know their fortunes. 
 This folly made the town swarm with wicked 
 pretenders to magic and the black art ; it be- 
 came common for them to have signs with inscrip- 
 tions, Here Iweth an astrologer Friar Bacons 
 ftead Mother Shipton a Merlin^ or the like ; 
 in short, the usual signs of these impostors were 
 to be seen in almost every street. One great mis- 
 chief was, if these deluders were asked if there 
 would be a plague, they all agreed to answer, 
 yes ; for that maintained their trade : had the 
 people not been kept in a fright, the wizards would 
 have been rendered useless, and their craft at an 
 end ; but they always talked of the influences of 
 stars and conjunctions of planets, which must, 
 necessarily, bring sickness, distempers, and the 
 plague. Saturn and Jupiter had been observed in 
 conjunction, in Sagittarius, on the 10th of Oc- 
 tober ; and Saturn and Mars also, in the same 
 sign, on the 12th of November ! There was no 
 remedy for this horrid delusion, till the plague put 
 an end to it, by clearing the town of most of these 
 mock calculators. 
 
 "Before this happened, many of the people, 
 given up to prophecies, dreams, and old wives' 
 tales, became so enthusiastically bold as to run 
 about the streets with their oral predictions, pre- 
 tending that they were sent to preach to the city ; 
 one, like Jonah at Nineveh, cried in the streets, 
 * Yet forty days, and London shall be destroyed ;'
 
 96 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 another ran about naked, except a pair of drawers 
 about his waist, crying, day and night (like a man 
 mentioned by Josephus, before the destruction of 
 Jerusalem), ' Oh ! the great and terrible God ! ' 
 and said no more, but repeated these words con- 
 tinually, with a voice and countenance full of 
 horror, a swift pace ; and nobody could observe 
 him to stop, or rest, or take any sustenance, nor 
 would he enter into speech with any one." 
 
 The effects of terror upon the mind of the 
 vulgar may easily be imagined : to avert the im- 
 pending woe, they had recourse to charms, phil- 
 ters, amulets, and exorcisms. Meanwhile the 
 gravest and most discreet persons viewed the gra- 
 dual deepening of this great national calamity with 
 feelings of awe and amazement. The first notice 
 of the plague which occurs in the Memoirs of 
 Pepys is in these words, 
 
 " April 30th. Great fears of the sicknesse here 
 in the city, it being said, that two or three houses 
 are already shut up. God preserve us all !" 
 
 An order was made, about this time, that the 
 houses of all infected persons should be marked 
 with a red cross, having with it this inscription, 
 
 LORD, HAVE MERCY UPON US ! 
 
 This circumstance is mentioned by Pepys, thus : 
 
 " June 7th. The hottest day that ever I felt in 
 my life. This day, much against my will, I did, 
 in Drury-lane, see two or three houses marked 
 with a red cross upon the doors, and ' Lord have 
 mercy upon us ' writ there ; which was a sad 
 sight to me, being the first of the kind that, to my
 
 SYDEMIAM. 97 
 
 remembrance, I ever saw." Ten days after this 
 entry into his diary, he relates the following oc- 
 currence. 
 
 " June 17th. It struck me very deep this after- 
 noon, going with a hackney-coach from Lord 
 Treasurer's, down Holborne, the coachman I 
 found to drive easily and easily, at last stood still, 
 and came down hardly able to stand, and told me 
 that he was suddenly struck very sick and almost 
 blind, he could not see ; so I light and went into 
 another coach, with a sad heart for the poor man 
 and for myself also, lest he should have been struck 
 with the plague." 
 
 Of the distemper itself, it may be sufficient to 
 mention, that it was very horrible in its symptoms, 
 but in some more so than in others ; the swellings, 
 which were generally in the neck or groin, when 
 they grew hard, and would not break, became 
 painful, with the most exquisite torment ; some, not 
 being able to bear it, precipitated themselves from 
 a window, or otherwise made away with them-, 
 selves ; others vented their pain by incessant roar- 
 ings ; loud and lamentable cries were heard in the 
 streets, sufficient to pierce the very heart. 
 
 The precaution of shutting up houses was ge- 
 nerally considered a very cruel and inhuman mea- 
 sure, and the poor who were so confined made 
 bitter lamentations ; the imprisonment, in fact, be- 
 came so intolerable, that many attempted, both by 
 violence and stratagem, to effect their escape : in 
 these efforts several watchmen were killed, others 
 wounded and left for dead, where the people, in 
 infected houses, were opposed in their attempts to 
 get away. Many houses having several ways out,
 
 98 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 some into other streets, it was impossible for one 
 man to guard all the passages, so as to prevent the 
 escape of people rendered desperate by the fright 
 of their circumstances, by resentment of their treat- 
 ment, as well as by the raging of the distemper 
 itself; so that they would talk to the watchman 
 on one side of the house, while the family made 
 their escape at another. 
 
 In Coleman-street there were abundance of 
 alleys ; a house was shut up in White's-alley, 
 which had a window into another court, that had 
 a passage into Bell-alley ; watchmen stood at the 
 door of the house night and day ; while the family 
 went away, in the evening, out at the^vindow, and 
 left the poor fellows watching and warding for 
 near a fortnight. Near the same place a watch- 
 man was blown up with gunpowder, and burnt 
 dreadfully : while he made hideous cries, and no 
 one would venture to come near him to help him, 
 those of the family that were able to stir, got out 
 of the one-pair of stairs window, leaving two sick 
 in the house, to whom nurses were sent. 
 
 " A watchman had kept his post two nights at a 
 shut-up house, and the day- watch, during one day : 
 the day-watch Avas come again to his duty : all 
 this while no noise was heard, no light was seen, 
 nothing was called for, nor the watchman sent on 
 any errands (which was their principal business) : 
 one night the dead cart was stopped there, and a 
 maid servant put into it, wrapt only in a green rug ; 
 next day the watch heard a great crying and 
 screaming, occasioned, as was supposed, by some 
 of the family just dying ; the watchman knocked 
 at the door, but none answered a great while ;
 
 SYDENHAM. 99 
 
 when one looked out and said (with an angry 
 quick tone, yet with a voice that was crying), 
 'What d'ye want, that ye make such a noise?' 
 He answered, ' I am the watchman, how do ye 
 do ? What is the matter ?' The person answered, 
 ' What is that to you ? stop the dead cart.' The 
 cart was stopped, and they knocked again ; but no- 
 body answered, and the cart-man would not tarry. 
 When the day-watchman came, they knocked 
 again a great while ; none answered : the case- 
 ment being open at which the person had looked 
 out, they procured a ladder, and found a dead 
 woman on the floor, covered only with her shift. 
 A magistrate ordered the house to be broken open, 
 wherein were none found but the dead sister to the 
 mistress of the family ; the master, his wife, se- 
 veral children and servants, escaped at some back 
 door, or over the tops of houses ; whether sick or 
 sound, was not known." 
 
 The Government exerted itself to the utmost to 
 stem the pestilential torrent, appeals to heaven 
 were ordered, and the king commanded the Col- 
 lege of Physicians jointly to write something in 
 English that might be a general directory in this 
 calamitous exigency : some were chosen out of 
 that body and appointed specially to attend the 
 infected on all occasions ; and two persons out of 
 the court of Aldermen were required to see this 
 hazardous task properly executed. The plague, 
 however, continued unabated; in July 18th, Pepys 
 remarks " I was much troubled this day to hear 
 at Westminster, how the officers do bury the dead 
 in the open fields, Tuttlefields, pretending want of
 
 100 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 room elsewhere ;" and about a fortnight afterwards 
 this is the entry in his diary : 
 
 " Aug. 3d. To Dagenharas. All the way, 
 people, citizens, walking to and fro, inquire how 
 the plague is in the city this week by the bill : 
 which by chance at Greenwich, I had heard was 
 2020 of the plague, and 3000 and odd of all dis- 
 eases. By-and-by met my Lord Crewe returning : 
 Mr. Marr telling me by the way how a maid-serv- 
 ant of Mr. John Wright (who lives thereabouts), 
 falling sick of the plague, she was removed to an 
 out-house, and a nurse appointed to look to her ; 
 who being once absent, the maid got out of the 
 house at the window and ran away. The nurse 
 coming and knocking, and having no answer, 
 believed she was dead, and went and told Mr. 
 Wright so ; who and his lady were in great strait 
 what to do to get her buried. At last resolved to 
 go to Burntwood hard by, being in the parish, and 
 there get people to do it. But they would not; 
 so he went home full of trouble, and in the way 
 met the wench walking over the common, which 
 frighted him worse than before ; and was forced 
 to send people to take her, which he did ; and they 
 got one of the pest- coaches and put her into it, to 
 carry her to a pest-house. And passing in a nar- 
 row lane, Sir Anthony Browne, with his brother 
 and some friends in the coach, met this coach with 
 the curtains drawn close. The brother being a 
 young man, and believing there might be some 
 lady in it that would not be seen, and the way 
 being narrow, he thrust his head out of his own 
 into her coach, and to look, and there saw some-
 
 SYDEMIAM. 101 
 
 body look very ill, and in a sick dress and stunk 
 mightily ; which the coachman also cried out 
 upon. And presently they came up to some people 
 that stood looking after it, and told our gallants 
 that it was a maid of Mr. Wright's carried away 
 sick of the plague, which put the young gentleman 
 into fright, had almost cost him his life, but is now 
 well again." 
 
 In the months of August and September, the 
 contagion changed its former slo'v and languid 
 pace, and having as it were got master of all, made 
 a most terrible slaughter, so that three, four, or five 
 thousand died in a week, and once eight thousand. 
 By the Lord Mayor's order, Sept. 6, fires were 
 made through all the streets and open places of 
 London and the liberties thereof; which were 
 continued three whole nights and days, to purge 
 and purify the air. The propriety of this practice 
 was much doubted, and much debate among the 
 faculty ensued thereon ; but before the controversy 
 was ended, the fires were extinguished by some 
 very smart hasty rain, as if the heavens mourned 
 for so many funerals, as well as for the fatal mis- 
 take that had been committed, in employing so 
 pernicious a remedy. The day after this experi- 
 ment, Evelyn writes in his Kalendarium : 
 
 "Sept. 7. Neere 10,000 now died weekly; 
 however I went all along the citty and suburbs 
 from Kent-streete to St. James's, a dismal passage, 
 and dangerous to see so many coffines exposed in 
 the streetes ; y e streetes thin of people, the shops 
 shut up, and all in mourneful silence, as not know- 
 ing whose turn might be next."
 
 J02 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 Contemporary writers are full of similar descrip- 
 tions, and one employs the following striking and 
 impressive language. " Now the cloud is very 
 black, and the storm comes down very sharp : 
 Death rides triumphant on his pale horse through 
 our streets, and breaks into almost every house, 
 where the inhabitants are to be found : people fall 
 as thick as leaves from the trees in Autumn, when 
 shaken by a mighty Avind. There is a dismal soli- 
 tude in London streets : every day looks with the 
 face of a sabbath, observed with a greater so- 
 lemnity than it used to be in the city. Shops are 
 shut up ; people rare ; and few that walk about, 
 insomuch that grass begins to grow in some 
 places, and a deep silence in almost every place, 
 especially within the city walls." 
 
 Within the walls, 
 
 The most frequented once and noisy parts 
 Of town, now midnight silence reigns e'en there ! 
 A midnight silence, at the noon of day ! 
 And grass, untrodden, springs beneath the feet ! 
 
 DRYDEV. 
 
 These scenes of desolation and woe excited in 
 the mind of Pepys the following train of thought 
 and extraordinary moral reflection : " Sept. 3rd. 
 Lord's day. Up ; and put on my coloured 
 silk suit, very fine, and my new periwigg, bought 
 a good while since, but durst not wear, because 
 the plague was, in "Westminster when I bought 
 it ; and it is a wonder what will be the fashion 
 after the plague is done, as to periwiggs, for 
 nobody will dare to buy any haire, for fear of the 
 
 * God's terrible Voice to the City, by Plague and Fire. VINCENT.
 
 SYDENIIAM. 103 
 
 infection, that it had been cut off the heads of 
 people dead of the plague. My Lord Brouncker, 
 Sir J. Minnes, and I, up to the vestry at the desire 
 of the justices of the peace, in order to the doing 
 something for the keeping of the plague from 
 growing ; but Lord ! to consider the madness of 
 people of this town, who Avill (because they arc 
 forbid) come in crowds along with the dead corpses 
 to see them buried ; but we agreed on some orders 
 for the prevention thereof." 
 
 Even so early as June 24, their majesties re- 
 moved from Whitehall to Hampton Court; on the 
 following month, on the 29th July, the court re- 
 moved again and went to reside some time at 
 Salisbury; but that city being soon infected, the 
 king chose his residence at Oxford. Every body, 
 in short, who was enabled to escape, sought the 
 country; and it is related, that though all the peo- 
 ple did not go out of London, yet all the horses 
 did ; there was hardly one to be bought or hired 
 in the whole city, for some weeks : many persons 
 travelled on foot, and, to prevent lying at inns, 
 carried soldiers' tents with them and lay in the 
 fields: the weather being warm, there was no dan- 
 ger of taking cold " the poor fugitives carried 
 beds or straw to lie upon, and provisions to eat, 
 living as hermits in cells, for none would venture 
 to come near them." They carried the infection 
 with them into the country, and it spread, towards 
 the end of this and the following year, over a 
 great part of England. It gradually abated in 
 the metropolis; but it was not till Nov. 20, 1666, 
 that public thanksgivings were offered up to God 
 for assuaging the late contagion and pestilence,
 
 104 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 in London, Westminster, and within the bills of 
 mortality.* 
 
 Sydenham returned to London so very soon, 
 and when the plague continued still so very vio- 
 lent, " that it could not be (he says with great 
 modesty) but by reason of scarcity of better physi- 
 cians, I should be called in to the assistance of 
 those who had the disease." Thus he saw both 
 the beginning and the end of this great epidemic, 
 and he did not neglect to profit by his opportu- 
 nities of observation. His method of practice 
 was to bleed very largely ; and he relates the case 
 of a noble lady, of about twenty-one years of age, 
 of a sanguine complexion, to whom he was called 
 in the beginning of May, 1665 (before he left 
 London), who was bled once or twice, but not suf- 
 ficiently, and whom he thought he might have 
 saved by a more liberal use of the lancet. In 
 proof of the benefit of bleeding, he mentions an 
 occurrence, related to him by the Hon. Francis 
 Windham, governor of Dunster Castle, in Somer- 
 setshire, during the civil wars. It happened that, 
 
 * "Since the plague of 1665, this country has happily, in conse- 
 quence of the establishment of the laws of quarantine, been pro- 
 tected from these awful epidemics ; of these, the last was certainly 
 the most terrible, but the History of England contains records of 
 similar visitations, almost as calamitous. In the Diary of Evelyn, 
 the following notice occurs, relating to a period of forty years only 
 before the date of this, which has been called, emphatically, the great 
 plague, and when he was but five years of age : 
 
 " 1625. I was, this year, sent by my father to Lewes in Sussex, to 
 be with my grandfather, Stansfield, with whom I passed my child- 
 hood. This was the year in which the pestilence was so epidemical, 
 that there dy'd in London five thousand a week ; and I well remem- 
 ber the strict watches and examinations upon the ways as we 
 passed."
 
 SYDENHAM. 105 
 
 at that calamitous period, the plague also raged 
 in many parts of England, and it chanced to be 
 brought from another place to Dunster, where 
 some of the soldiers dying suddenly with an erup- 
 tion of spots, it seized many others. Among the 
 troops was a surgeon, who had been a great 
 traveller, but who was at that time serving as a 
 common soldier, and who humbly entreated the 
 governor of the castle to permit him to do all 
 he could for the relief of his fellow-soldiers, 
 afflicted with this dreadful disease ; leave being 
 obtained, he took away a Vast quantity of blood 
 from every sick person, on the first attack of 
 the disease, before there was any sign of swell- 
 ing: he bled them till they were ready to drop 
 down, for he bled them all standing and in the 
 open air : nor had he any vessel in which to 
 measure the blood : afterwards he ordered them to 
 lie in their tents, and though he gave no medicine 
 at all after the bleeding, yet, of the many whom 
 he thus treated, not one died. On the propriety 
 of copious and frequently repeated bleeding, 
 Sydenham appeals to those physicians who conti- 
 nued in town while the plague raged, and confi- 
 dently asks if they had ever observed, when this 
 practice had been employed before any tumour 
 appeared, the death of any one patient to ensue. 
 He, however, met with much obstruction in the 
 employment of his method of cure, and says, with 
 great simplicity, " I will give an instance of an 
 injury I once did, but without guilt, not because 
 I let blood, but because I was not allowed to take 
 away as much as was necessary. Being sent for 
 to a young man of a sanguine complexion, and
 
 108 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 strong constitution, who had been seized with a 
 violent fever two days before, with giddy pains of 
 the head, violent vomitings, and such like symp- 
 toms, and finding, upon inquiry, that he had no 
 sign of a swelling, I immediately ordered that a 
 large quantity of blood should be taken away, 
 which had the appearance of blood drawn in a 
 plurisy, and I prescribed also a ptisan, with cool- 
 ing juleps and broths. In the afternoon he was 
 bled again, and on the following morning lost the 
 same quantity. Towards the evening of this day 
 I visited my patient, and found him much better ; 
 but his friends, notwithstanding this improvement, 
 were violently opposed to further bleeding. But 
 I earnestly contended that it should be repeated 
 again, saying, that he needed only undergo the 
 operation once more, and he would be safe; on 
 the contrary, if they continued obstinate, it would 
 have been better that no blood had been taken 
 away at all, and that the cure had been attempted 
 by perspiration ; in short, I predicted that the pa- 
 tient would thus die. The event confirmed the 
 prognosis, and while we were disputing the mat- 
 ter, the purple spots broke out, and he died in a 
 few hours." 
 
 Sydenham concludes his chapter on the plague 
 in the following remarkable words. " If the rea- 
 der shall find that I have anywhere erred in 
 theory, I beg his pardon ; but as to practice I de- 
 clare I have faithfully related every thing, and 
 that I never proposed any plan of cure before I 
 had thoroughly tried it. Indeed, when I come to 
 die, I trust I shall have a cheerful witness in my 
 breast, that I have not only, with the greatest dili-
 
 SYDENHAM, 107 
 
 gence and honesty, attempted the recovery of the 
 health of all who committed themselves to my care, 
 of what condition, soever they have been (of whom 
 none was otherwise treated by me than I desire to 
 be, if I myself should happen to suffer the same 
 diseases), but that also I have laboured to the ut- 
 most of my power, if by any means it might be, 
 that the cure of diseases may be managed after I 
 am dead with greater certainty : for I esteem any 
 progress in that kind of knowledge (how small so- 
 ever it be), though it teach no more than the cure of 
 the toothache, or of corns upon the feet, to be of more 
 value than the vain pomp of nice speculations." 
 
 From his treatise on the Gout, which has always 
 been considered a masterpiece of description, we 
 learn that he had suffered from the attacks of that 
 painful disease during the greatest part of his life. 
 In the dedication, which is to the learned Dr. 
 Thomas Short, Fellow of the College of Phy- 
 sicians, he mentions, that while composing the 
 treatise itself, he was so tormented with the gout, 
 that he was unable to hold a pen, and was obliged 
 to employ an amanuensis. It was written in 1683, 
 and begins thus : " Without doubt men will sup- 
 pose that either the nature of the disease I now 
 treat of is in a manner incomprehensible, or that I, 
 who have been troubled with it thirty-four years, 
 am a very dull fellow, seeing my observations about 
 it and the cure of it little answer their expecta- 
 tions." With the graphic pen of one who has suf- 
 fered the terrible martyrdom of this disease in his 
 own person, he describes " How the patient goes 
 to bed and sleeps well till about two o'clock in the 
 morning, when he awakes with a pain seizing his
 
 108 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 great toe, heel, calf of his leg, or ankle; it is at 
 first gentle, increases by degrees, and resembles 
 that of dislocated bones : towards the following 
 night it reaches its height, accommodates itself 
 nicely to the various forms of the bones of the 
 instep, whose ligaments it seizes, resembling the 
 gnawing of a dog, and becomes, at length, so exqui- 
 site, that the part affected cannot bear the weight of 
 the clothes upon it, nor the patient suffer any one 
 to walk hastily across the chamber. The severity 
 of this first attack continues for twenty- four hours, 
 when the sufferer enjoys a little ease, begins to 
 perspire, falls asleep, and when he awakes finds 
 the pain much abated, but the part swollen. The 
 next day, and, perhaps, for the two or three fol- 
 lowing days, towards evening, the torture returns, 
 but remits towards the time of cock-crow. In a 
 few days, the other foot is destined to endure the 
 same excruciating agony." Sydenham goes on to 
 enumerate the catalogue of complaints that afflict 
 the gouty person, " till at last he is worn out by 
 the joint attacks of age and of the disease, and the 
 miserable wretch is so happy as to die." And 
 here he makes the following moral observation : 
 " But (which consideration ought to be a comfort 
 to others as well as to myself, who, though we are 
 but moderately endowed with mental acquire- 
 ments and the gifts of fortune, yet are afflicted 
 with this disease) thus have lived, and thus at 
 length have died, great kings and potentates, 
 generals of armies, admirals of fleets, philoso- 
 phers, and many other equally distinguished per- 
 sonages." With this cruel disease he contended 
 from the early age of twenty-five; and he speaks of
 
 SYDENHAM. 109 
 
 a fit with which he was seized in 1660, when he 
 was only thirty-six, which was very violent, and 
 continued longer than any preceding attack. He 
 lay, continually, for two months, during the sum- 
 mer of that year, either in or upon a soft bed ; 
 and then, for the first time, hegan to feel the 
 symptoms of an equally painful and distressing 
 malady, the gravel." In 1676, after the breaking 
 up of a great frost, and having walked much, and 
 for a long time, he suffered a very severe paroxysm, 
 and the symptom which alarmed him recurred as 
 often as he rode in a coach along the paved streets, 
 though the horses went gently. 
 
 This complication of disorders made it very ne- 
 cessary for him to be attentive to his diet, which 
 he regulated, as he informs us, after this manner : 
 " In the morning, when I rise, I drink a dish or 
 two of tea, and then ride in my coach till noon ;* 
 when I return home, I moderately refresh myself 
 with any sort of meat, of easy digestion, that I like 
 (for moderation is necessary above all things) ; I 
 drink somewhat more than a quarter of a pint of 
 Canary wine, immediately after dinner, every day, 
 to promote the digestion of the food in my sto- 
 mach, and to drive the "gout from my bowels. 
 When I have dined, I betake myself to my coach 
 again ; and, when business will permit, I ride into 
 the country, two or three miles, for good air. A 
 draught of small beer is to me instead of a supper, 
 and I take another draught when I am in bed, 
 and about to compose myself to sleep." 
 
 * At the present time, no physician thinks of leaving his home 
 before the hour that Sydenham was returning from his round of 
 morning visits to his patients.
 
 110 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 The treatise from which this extract is made 
 was the last puhlished in his lifetime, and he con- 
 cludes it, by observing, that he has now given to 
 the world the sum of all which he had hitherto 
 known concerning the cure of diseases, up to the 
 day on which he wrote it, viz., to the 29th of 
 September, 1686. His work, entitled Processus 
 Integri, the compendious result of all his practical 
 experience, was published after his death, and has 
 been generally considered to have settled the ques- 
 tion, as to whether he wrote his treatises in Eng- 
 lish, and procured them afterwards to be translated 
 into Latin. This posthumous work exhibits so 
 much classical learning, that Dr. Johnson (no 
 mean judge in these matters) pronounces Syden- 
 ham to have been well versed in the writings of 
 antiquity, more particularly in those of the great 
 Roman orator and philosopher, whose luxuriance 
 of style he appears to have endeavoured to imitate. 
 
 The gout and the stone were distempers which 
 even the art of Sydenham could only palliate, 
 without hope of a cure ; but if he has not been 
 able, by his precepts, to instruct us how to remove 
 them, he has at least left us his example how to 
 bear them ; he never betrayed any indecent impa- 
 tience or unmanly dejection under his torments 
 on the contrary, supported himself by the reflec- 
 tions of philosophy and the consolations of reli- 
 gion; and in every interval of ease applied himself 
 to the assistance of others with his usual assiduity. 
 
 After a life thus usefully employed, he died at 
 his house, in Pall Mall, on the 29th of December, 
 1689, and was buried in the aisle, near the south 
 door, of the church of St. James, in "Westminster.
 
 SYDEXIIAM. Ill 
 
 But the epitaph that indicated the spot being 
 nearly obliterated, the College of Physicians re- 
 solved, in 1809, to erect a mural monument as 
 near as possible to the place of interment, Avithin 
 that church, to the memory of this illustrious 
 man, with the following inscription : 
 
 Prope hunc Locum sepultus est 
 
 Thomas Syderiham, 
 
 Medicus in omne /Evum nobilis. 
 
 Natus erat A.D. 1G24, 
 
 Vixit Annos 65. 
 Deletis veteris Sepulchri Vestigiis 
 
 Ne Rei Memoria interiret 
 
 Hoc Marmor poni jussit Collegium 
 
 Regale Medicorum Londinense, A.D. 1810. 
 
 Optima Merito !
 
 RADCLIFFE. 
 
 FOLLOWING the direction of the son of Sirach, 
 " to honour a physician with the honour which is 
 due to him," we shall speak of Radcliffe as he de- 
 serves; not extolling him for scholastic attain- 
 ments which he did not possess, but giving him 
 every credit for the strong good sense and natural 
 sagacity with which he was really endowed, and 
 without concealing the coarseness of his wit, or 
 the imprudent levity of conduct, in which it was 
 his humour occasionally to indulge. His muni- 
 ficent acts of bounty, his almost unexampled 
 liberality, point him out as one of the most cele- 
 brated of a profession that has always been dis- 
 tinguished for its liberality ; and fully explain to 
 us the esteem in which he was held by his con- 
 temporaries, to whom, in spite of his infirmities of 
 temper, the generosity of his disposition, and the 
 sprightliness of his conversation, rendered him at 
 all times a most agreeable companion. 
 
 The father of Dr. John Radcliffe possessed a 
 moderate estate in Yorkshire; and though himself 
 more addicted to the improvement of his paternal 
 acres than to the cultivation of letters, he deter- 
 mined to listen to the advice of his neighbours 
 and friends, and instead of bringing up his son 
 (born in the year 1650) to trade or agriculture, 
 sent him to the grammar-school of Wakefield.
 
 RADCLIFFE. ] 13 
 
 Here he made such progress, that his father, not- 
 withstanding the incumbrance of a numerous fa- 
 mily, all to be provided for, resolved to give him 
 an Oxford education, and entered him, at the 
 early age of fifteen, a member of University Col- 
 lege. He took his degree of A. B. in due time ; 
 he was made senior scholar of his college, yet, as 
 no fellowship became vacant there, he removed to 
 Lincoln College, of which he had been previously 
 invited to become a Fellow. 
 
 Here he was enabled, by a more liberal allow- 
 ance granted him by his mother (for his father 
 was now dead), to pursue the study of physic, 
 which he had chosen, and attend the different 
 courses of anatomy, chemistry, and botany, deli- 
 vered in the University. He took his degree of 
 Master of Arts in 1672, as it is said, with uncom- 
 mon applause. As to his academical career, we 
 are told that he held logic iii small esteem, but 
 devoted himself eagerly to the cultivation of more 
 general literature. It was his boast that he did 
 not prepare himself for the practice of the art of 
 healing, by what he considered a useless appli- 
 cation to the rubbisfc of antiquity contained in 
 musty volumes, but by a careful examination of 
 the most valuable treatises that made their appear- 
 ance in his own times. His books, while he was 
 a student of medicine, though well chosen, were 
 so few in number, that, being visited by Dr. Bat- 
 hurst, the Master of Trinity College (the com- 
 panion of Harvey in his experiments upon the 
 incubation of eggs), and asked by him where was 
 his library, Radcliffe replied, by pointing to a few
 
 114 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 vials, a skeleton, and a herbal, in one corner of 
 his room. 
 
 He became Bachelor of Medicine in 1675, and 
 immediately began the exercise of his profession 
 in the city of Oxford itself. At his first entrance 
 upon the stage of action, he fell foul of the apothe- 
 caries, and experienced no small opposition from 
 Foulks and Adams, two of the most eminent of 
 that calling, who decried his method of practice, 
 more especially because it was contrary to the one 
 adopted by Dr. Lydal, at that time the most cele- 
 brated practitioner in the University. The method 
 of Lydal w&s slow; that of Radcliffe expeditious, 
 prompt, and decisive; and the superiority of talent 
 and good sense in the latter became soon so con- 
 spicuous, that his opponents, the apothecaries 
 themselves, were obliged to make interest with 
 him, " to have his prescriptions on their files." 
 
 His success, as may readily be believed, was 
 not viewed without feelings of envy, and his rivals 
 maintained that his cures were only guess-work, 
 and affected sarcastically to regret that his friends, 
 instead of breeding him up to physic, had not 
 made a scholar of him. On the other hand, Rad- 
 cliffe was not wanting in his own defence, nor 
 sparing of abuse towards his antagonists, whom 
 he bespattered with all sorts of opprobrious names, 
 and derided, because of the slops, caudles, and 
 diet drinks with which they drenched their pa- 
 tients. It was neither, however, by his abuse of 
 others, nor by any empirical boldness, that at this 
 early period of his medical career, he seems to have 
 completely gained the confidence of the public,
 
 RADCLIFFE. 115 
 
 but by his judicious method of treating the small- 
 pox : a method, indeed, which Sydenham had in- 
 troduced into the art of medicine about ten years 
 before Radcliffe established himself at Oxford. It 
 consisted in the employment of the cooling treat- 
 ment a, practice which seems to have been partly 
 suggested by reasoning upon the nature of the 
 disease, and which has been amply sanctioned by 
 experience. In his original treatise upon the small- 
 pox, Sydenham dwells much upon the salutary in- 
 fluence of cold, in those worst and most aggravated 
 forms of that disease, which are sometimes brought 
 on by the pernicious use of the heating and sti- 
 mulating treatment then in vogue. Luckily, he 
 observes, it occurs occasionally, that from the pre- 
 posterous application of external heat and inward 
 cordials, the patient becomes delirious, and in a fit 
 of frenzy, escaping from the cruel attention of his 
 nurse, leaps out of bed, lies exposed for many 
 hours to the cool night air, and thus haply re- 
 covers. In proof whereof he relates an anecdote 
 of a person whom he knew, who in his youth had 
 gone to Bristol, and while there was seized with 
 the small-pox, and became delirious. His nurse 
 having occasion to go into the town, left her 
 patient to the care of others, during her absence. 
 Being detained somewhat longer than she ex- 
 pected, the sick person (as it seemed to those 
 about him) gave up the ghost. As the weather 
 was very hot, and the body was stout and corpu- 
 lent, in order to prevent the bad odour of the 
 corpse, they lifted it immediately from the bed, 
 and placed it, with the exception of its being 
 covered by a sheet, in a state of perfect nudity 
 
 i 2
 
 116 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 upon a table. The nurse, in the mean time, re- 
 turns, and, hearing the sad tidings, proceeds sor- 
 rowfully to the chamber of death ; but on removing 
 the sheet, and looking at the countenance, thinks 
 she can perceive some faint signs of life remaining, 
 and having replaced the extended body in bed, 
 recalls, by some means or other, the apparently 
 dead man to life, and in a few days sees him re- 
 stored to perfect health. 
 
 Few, however, of his contemporaries approved 
 of the practice of Sydenham, though he himself 
 was so convinced of its propriety, that he con- 
 cludes his original treatise upon this disease, by 
 declaring, that if his young son "William, whose 
 welfare and life were dearer to him than the 
 wealth of the Indies, were to be seized with the 
 small-pox, he should direct him to be treated in 
 the same manner. 
 
 The new method, as it was called, had indeed 
 the sanction of the illustrious Locke, himself a 
 physician ; but the generality of the practitioners 
 of that day continued to trudge on in the ancient 
 course of their forefathers. Eadcliffe was free 
 from the bigotry and prejudices of his brethren ; 
 and one of the first-fruits which he reaped from 
 his early determination to leave the trammels of 
 authority, and willingly admit the light of recent 
 discovery, was the most remarkable success of 
 his practice in this very disease, in which he 
 strictly followed the precepts laid down by Syden- 
 ham. The small-pox was raging in the city and 
 in the neighbourhood of Oxford, with great fa- 
 tality ; and instead of stoving up his patients as 
 was done by other practitioners, Radcliffe em-
 
 RADCLIFFE. 117 
 
 ployed the new method, exposed the sick to the 
 free access of the air, gave them cooling emulsions, 
 and employed other approved antiphlogistic reme- 
 dies, and thus rescued more than one hundred 
 from the jaws of death. 
 
 About this time also he had another piece of 
 good-fortune, in the case of Lady Spencer, at 
 Yarnton, some few miles from Oxford. This lady 
 had been under Dr. Lydal and Mr. Musgrave's 
 hands, for some time, without deriving much be- 
 nefit from their prescriptions, and with small hopes 
 of recovering from a complication of disorders. 
 In this dilemma, she was induced, at the entreaty 
 of her son-in-law, Mr. Dormer, to send for Rad- 
 cliffe, whose reputation was now beginning to 
 spread. His advice was very successful ; in a 
 short space of time the patient was restored to 
 health, and lived many years afterwards. The 
 fame of this unexpected recovery, and the ex- 
 tensive connexions of the lady's family, brought 
 him into fashion, and he was patronized by the 
 noble houses of Northampton, Sunderland, Caer- 
 narvon, and Abingdon. Indeed, before he had 
 been two years a bachelor of physic, there were 
 few families of any credit, within reach of Oxford, 
 who had not had occasion to appreciate his pro- 
 fessional skill. 
 
 Having received some affront, he quitted Lin- 
 coln College, and resigned his Fellowship, but 
 continued to reside in the University, and in the 
 year 1682 took the degree of Doctor of Medicine, 
 going out Grand Compounder a circumstance 
 which is supposed to indicate the possession, thus 
 early, of at least 40/. per annum in land. His
 
 118 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 business augmented ; and he maintained, by his 
 frank and manly conduct, and by his endeavours 
 to discountenance the attempts of quacks and 
 intermeddlers as much as possible, the respecta- 
 bility and fair dealing of his profession. The 
 art of uroscopie, as it was called, was at this 
 time much in vogue, and the credulous became 
 the dupes of various impostors, who pretended to 
 cure people, at a distance, of all manner of human 
 maladies, by the exercise of this absurd mode of 
 divination. Provided with this infallible indication 
 of disease, it is related that a foolish woman came 
 to Radcliffe, and, dropping a curtsey, told him 
 that, having heard of his great fame, she made 
 bold to bring him a fee, by which she hoped his 
 worship would be prevailed upon to tell her the 
 distemper her husband lay sick of, and to prescribe 
 proper remedies for his relief. " Where is he ?" 
 cries the doctor. " Sick in bed, four miles off." 
 Taking the vessel, and casting an eye upon its 
 contents, he inquired of the woman what trade 
 the patient was of; and, learning that he was a 
 boot-maker, " Very well," replied the doctor ; and 
 having retired for a moment to make the requisite 
 substitution, " take this home with you ; and if 
 your husband will undertake to fit me with a pair 
 of boots by its inspection, I will make no question 
 of prescribing for his distemper by a similar exa- 
 mination." 
 
 His practice in the country procured him con- 
 siderable wealth, but, not content with his provin- 
 cial reputation, he removed to London, when he 
 was abou^ thirty-four years old, and settled in 
 Bow-street, Covent Garden. Here he had not
 
 BADCLIFFE. 119 
 
 been established more than a twelvemonth, before 
 he rose to the head of his profession, and received, 
 in daily fees, the sum of twenty guineas. To this 
 rapid success, the pleasantry of his discourse and 
 his ready wit are said to have greatly contributed 
 many even feigning themselves ill for the pleasure 
 of having a few minutes' conversation with the 
 facetious doctor. In 1686, he was appointed phy- 
 sician to the Princess Anne of Denmark ; and soon 
 after, about the time the Bishops were sent to the 
 Tower, was sorely beset, as well by the Master of 
 the College at Oxford, where he had received his 
 education, as by the court chaplains, Father Saun- 
 ders and another Dominican, to change his reli- 
 gion, and turn Papist. To the solicitations of the 
 first, sent to him by the king, he turned a deaf ear; 
 and to Mr. Obadiah Walker, of University Col- 
 lege, Oxford, he wrote the following letter, in reply 
 to an epistle of his, in which he had told Radcliffe, 
 " that he should be incessant in his prayers to the 
 great God above, and to the blessed Virgin, that 
 he might be enlightened, and see the things that 
 belonged to the peace of his immortal soul." 
 
 "Bow-street, Covent-garden, May 25, 1688. 
 " Sir, I should be in as unhappy a condition in 
 this life, as you fear I shall be in the next, were I 
 to be treated as a turn-coat ; and must tell you, 
 that I can be serious no longer, while you endea- 
 vour to make me believe what, I am apt to think, 
 you give no credit to yourself. Fathers, and coun- 
 cils, and antique authorities, may have their influ- 
 ence in their proper places : but should any of 
 them all, though covered with dust 1400 years ago,
 
 120 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 tell me, that the bottle I am now drinking with 
 some of your acquaintance is a wheel-barrow, and 
 the glass in my hand a salamander, I should ask 
 leave to dissent from them all. 
 
 ** You mistake my temper, in being of an opin- 
 ion that I am otherwise byass'd than the gene- 
 rality of mankind are. I had one of your new 
 convert's poems in my hands just now ; you will 
 know them to be Mr. Dryden's, and on what ac- 
 count they were first written, at first sight. Four 
 of the best lines, and most apropos, run thus : 
 
 " By education most have been misled, 
 So they believe, because they vrere so bred : 
 The priest continues what the nurse began, 
 And thus the child imposes on the man. 
 
 " You may be given to understand from hence, 
 that, having been bred up a Protestant at Wake- 
 field, and sent from thence in that persuasion to 
 Oxford, where, during my continuance, I had no 
 relish for absurdities, I intend not to change 
 principles, and turn Papist, in London. 
 
 " The advantages you propose to me, may be 
 very great, for all that I know : God Almighty 
 can do very much, and so can the king, but you'll 
 pardon me if I cease to speak like a physician 
 for once, and with an air of gravity am very ap- 
 prehensive that I may anger the one, in being too 
 complaisant to the other. You cannot call this 
 pinning my faith to any man's sleeve : those that 
 know me are too well apprized of a quite con- 
 trary tendency. As I never flattered a man my- 
 self, so 'tis my firm resolution never to be wheedled 
 out of my real sentiments ; which are, that since 
 it has been my good fortune to be educated ac-
 
 UADCLIFFE. 121 
 
 cording to the usage of the Church of England, 
 established by law, I shall never make myself so 
 unhappy as to shame my teachers and instruc- 
 tors, by departing from what I have imbibed from 
 them. 
 
 " Yet though I shall never be brought over to 
 confide in your doctrines, no one breathing can 
 have a greater esteem for your conversation, by 
 letter, or word of mouth, than, Sir, 
 
 " Your most affectionate 
 " And faithful servant, 
 
 " JOHN RADCLIFFE." 
 
 And Radcliffe was as constant in his friendship 
 as he proved himself to be in his religious princi- 
 ples ; for when, in the succeeding revolution, Mr. 
 Walker fell into poverty and distress, he allowed 
 him, to the day of his death, a very handsome 
 competency, and contributed largely to his funeral 
 expenses, so that he might be conducted honour- 
 ably to his grave in Pancras church-yard, where 
 he was privately interred. From this creditable 
 anecdote, it will be seen, that Radcliffe was firm 
 and staunch in his Protestant faith, though, from 
 the following, related by his earliest biographer, 
 one may infer that, in everything connected with 
 politics, his conduct was regulated by merely pru- 
 dential motives. 
 
 When, in the latter end of the year 1688, the 
 mismanagements of the court became so nume- 
 rous, and the apprehensions of their further increase 
 so very strong, that they could no longer be tole- 
 rated, the Prince of Orange was invited over, with 
 an armed force, to redress the grievances of the
 
 122 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 subject. His highness accordingly came, and 
 was joined by the chief of the nobility, even by 
 Prince George of Denmark, who thought himself 
 obliged to prefer his duty to God before that 
 which he owed his king and father. The princess, 
 his royal consort, at that time pregnant, and under 
 Dr. Radcliffe's immediate care, likewise got 
 away by night Avith the Bishop of London, and 
 retired to Nottingham. It was their intention to 
 stay there till the storm should be blown over ; and 
 the prelate above mentioned pressed the doctor to 
 accompany the princess, in his capacity of her 
 royal highness's physician ; but Radcliffe excused 
 himself, alleging the multiplicity of his practice, 
 and the dangerous state of health in which many of 
 his patients happened to be, requiring his constant 
 and unremitting attendance, and thus avoided 
 taking any decisive step. He cautiously took care 
 that no imputation of guilt could, by any possi- 
 bility, attach to him afterwards, had the revolution 
 not succeeded, whereby the throne was declared 
 vacant, and occupied by King William and Queen 
 Mary. 
 
 With King William came the famous Dr. Bidloo, 
 as chief physician; but the presence of this for- 
 midable rival did not injure the fame of Rad- 
 cliffe, which, on the contrary, increased daily : it 
 was said, indeed, that Bidloo, who was otherwise 
 expert in the knowledge of physic, and knew how to 
 prescribe proper medicaments when he hit upon 
 the distemper, from frequently mistaking the nature 
 of English constitutions, subjected those who 
 advised with him to the greatest hazards. Be this 
 as it may, Radcliffe so far got the start of all his
 
 RADCLIFFE. 123 
 
 competitors, tliat even his majesty's foreign at- 
 tendants, Mr. Bentinck (afterwards Earl of Port- 
 land), and Mr. Zulestein (Earl of Rochford), 
 applied to him in cases of necessity, Avherein he 
 always displayed his skill to the greatest degree ; 
 the first heing cured by him of a violent diarrhoea, 
 which had brought him almost to the point of 
 death ; and the last, who was very corpulent, of a 
 lethargy, that had baffled the skill of all other 
 practitioners. The gratitude of King William, for 
 the recovery of his two favourites, was manifested 
 to Radcliife by a present of 500 guineas out of the 
 privy purse, and an offer of making him one of his 
 majesty's physicians, with a salary of 2001. per 
 annum more than any other. The caution and 
 worldly wisdom of Radcliffe were here again ex- 
 hibited ; for though he accepted the present, he 
 begged to decline the appointment, considering that 
 the settlement of the crown was then only in its 
 infancy, and that accidents might occur to disturb 
 its security. Nor did he lose by his refusal, for the 
 weak condition of the king's health, which had from 
 his majesty's childhood suffered from frequent at- 
 tacks of asthma, required his constant professional 
 assistance ; so that it was said, that one year with 
 another, for the first eleven years of the reign of 
 King William, Radcliffe received more than 600 
 guineas for his annual attendance upon his ma- 
 jesty, exclusive of what he received from the great 
 officers of the court. These may serve as speci- 
 mens of his prudence ; and the following story, 
 which may be best related in the words of his first 
 biographer,* affords a good example of his hu- 
 
 W. Pittis.
 
 124 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 mour, and of the footing upon which he lived with 
 his neighbours and friends, and of the free and 
 familiar terms in which they mutually indulged : 
 
 " It will not be much out of the way to insert a 
 diverting passage, between Sir Godfrey Kneller, 
 the king's chief face-painter, and the doctor, since 
 it happened near this time ; and, though not alto- 
 gether so advantageous to the doctor's memory as 
 the generality of his sarcastic replies, yet will be 
 of use to bring in a very happy turn of wit from 
 him that speaks in rejoinder to it. The doctor's 
 dwelling-house, as has been said before, was in 
 Bow-street, Covent Garden, whereunto belonged 
 a very convenient garden, that was contiguous to 
 another on the back of it, appertaining to Sir God- 
 frey, which was extremely curious and inviting, 
 from the . many exotic plants, and the variety of 
 flowers and greens, which it abounded with. NOAV 
 as one wall divided both inclosures, and the doctor 
 had some reason, from his intimacy with the 
 knight, to think he would not give a denial to any 
 reasonable request, so he took the freedom, when 
 he was one day in company with the latter, after 
 extolling his fine parterres and choice collection of 
 herbs, flowers, &c., to desire the liberty of having 
 a door made, for a free intercourse with both gar- 
 dens, but in such a manner as should not be incon- 
 venient to either family. 
 
 " Sir Godfrey, who was, and is a gentleman of 
 extraordinary courtesy and humanity, very readily 
 gave his consent; but the doctor's servants, in- 
 stead of being strict observers of the terms of 
 agreement, made such a havoc amongst his hor- 
 tulanary curiosities, that Sir Godfrey was out of
 
 RADCLIFFE. 125 
 
 all patience, and found himself obliged, in a very 
 becoming manner, to advertise their master of it, 
 with his desires to him to admonish them for the 
 forbearance of such insolences ; yet, notwithstand- 
 ing this complaint, the grievance continued unre- 
 dressed, so that the person aggrieved found him- 
 self under a necessity of letting him, that ought to 
 make things easy, know, by one of his servants, 
 that he should be obliged to brick up the door, in 
 case of his complaints proving ineffectual. To 
 this the doctor, who is very often in a cholerick 
 temper, and from the success of his practice ima- 
 gined every one under an obligation of bearing 
 with him, returned answer, that Sir Godfrey might 
 even do what he thought fit, in relation to the 
 door, so that he did but refrain from painting it; 
 alluding to his employment, than whom, none 
 was a more exquisite master of. Hereupon, the 
 footman, after some hesitation in the delivery of 
 his message, and several commands from his 
 master to give it him word for word, told him as 
 above. ; Did my very good friend, Doctor Rad- 
 cliffe, say so ? ' cryed Sir Godfrey. ' Go you back 
 to him, and, after presenting my service to him, 
 tell him, that I can take anything from him but 
 physic'. A reply more biting than true, though 
 allowable, from what he had received from the 
 aggressor : so, if the one was at the height of ex- 
 cellence in his unequalled skill in physic, the other 
 had attained to as consummate an experience in the 
 art and mystery of limning." 
 
 At the close of the year 1689, when he had 
 gained additional credit and fame by a cure he
 
 126 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 had performed upon the Duke of Beaufort, he was 
 called in to a consultation with the king's physi- 
 cians, Doctors Bidloo and Laurence, and was so 
 successful as to suggest means which speedily re- 
 stored his majesty to a share of health sufficient 
 to enable him to join his army in Ireland, and gain 
 the victory at the Boyne. In 1691, the young 
 Prince William, Duke of Gloucester, son of the 
 Prince and Princess of Denmark, was taken ill of 
 fainting fits, a complaint which had been fatal to 
 several of the children of their royal highnesses, 
 and his life was despaired of by the court physi- 
 cians. Radcliffe being sent for, first begged that 
 the queen and the princess, who should both be 
 present, would rely solely upon him, and allow 
 the use of no other prescriptions hut his ; and 
 then, by the employment of a few outward and 
 inward applications, restored the little patient to 
 such a state of health, that he never had anything 
 like a delirium from that time till the day of his 
 death. Queen Mary, who constantly visited the 
 child, was so pleased with Radcliffe, that she or- 
 dered her chamberlain to present him Avith 1000 
 guineas. His fame was now so great, that every 
 body nocked to him for advice ; and it is recorded, 
 that his neighbour, Dr. Gibbons, received WOOL 
 per annum from the overflow of patients who were 
 not able to get admission to the great physician of 
 the day. 
 
 Hitherto, everything had prospered with him ; 
 but in the year 1692 bis fortune was chequered 
 with a considerable loss. The doctor, amongst 
 other acquaintance, had contracted a great fami-
 
 RADCL1FFE. 127 
 
 liarity with Betterton, the famous tragedian, and 
 at his persuasion was induced to risk no less a 
 sum than 5000/. in a venture to the East Indies : 
 the ship sailed, and had a favourable passage ; 
 when on her return, she was taken by the Mar- 
 quis de Nesmond, and all her cargo, amounting 
 in value to 1 20,000/. captured by the enemy. This 
 loss ruined the poor player, but Radcliffe received 
 the disastrous intelligence at the Bull's Head Ta- 
 vern, in Clare Market (where he was enjoying 
 himself with several persons of the first rank), with 
 philosophic composure ; desiring his companions 
 not to interrupt the circulation of the glass, " for 
 that he had no more to do but to go up so many 
 pair of stairs to make himself whole again." Nor 
 did this pecuniary loss check the exercise of his 
 liberal spirit, for it was in the course of this year 
 that he contributed a considerable sum towards 
 the repairs and embellishments of University 
 College. 
 
 In the following year, after long solicitation of bis 
 friends, he, for the first time, thought of matrimony, 
 and began to pay his court to the daughter of a 
 wealthy citizen. The parents of the young lady 
 gave their consent, and it was settled that he 
 should receive on the day of marriage 15,000/., 
 and the residue of their property at their death ; 
 his own fortune being then estimated to amount 
 to 30,000/. The match, however, was broken otf, 
 upon Radcliffe discovering that the book-keeper 
 of his intended bride's father had anticipated him 
 in securing her affections, and possessed the most 
 unequivocal claim to the title of her husband.
 
 128 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 Upon this occasion, he wrote the following letter 
 to the father. 
 
 "Bow-street, Covent-garden, May 19, 1693. 
 " SIR The honour of being ally'd to so good 
 and wealthy a person as Mr. S -d has push'd me 
 upon a discovery that may be fatal to your quiet, 
 and your daughter's reputation, if not timely pre- 
 vented. Mrs. Mary is a very deserving gentle- 
 woman, but you must pardon me, if I think her by 
 no means fit to be my wife, since she is another 
 man's already, or ought to be. In a word, she is 
 no better and no worse than actually quick with 
 child, which makes it necessary that she be dis- 
 posed of to him that has the best claim to her 
 affections. No doubt but you have power enough 
 over her to bring her to confession, which is by 
 no means the part of a physician. As for my 
 part, I shall wish you much joy of a new son-in- 
 law, when known, since I am by no means qua- 
 lified to be so near of kin. Hanging and marry- 
 ing, I find, go by destiny ; and I might have been 
 guilty of the first, had I not so narrowly escaped 
 the last. My best services to your daughter, 
 whom I can be of little use to as a physician, and 
 of much less in the quality of a suitor. The daugh- 
 ter of so wealthy a gentleman as Mr. S d can 
 never want a husband, therefore the sooner you 
 bestow her, the better, that the young Hans en 
 Kelder may be born in wedlock, and have the 
 right of inheritance to so large a patrimony. You 
 will excuse me for being so very free with you, for 
 tho' I cannot have the honour to be your son-
 
 RADCLIFFE. 129 
 
 in-law, I shall ever take pride in being among the 
 number of your friends, who am, 
 
 " Sir, 
 " Your most obedient servant, 
 
 " JOHN RADCLIFFE." 
 
 After this disappointment, it is related that, not- 
 withstanding the urgent entreaties of his friend?, 
 he gave up all thoughts of marriage : though an 
 idle story is told of a lady of quality having fallen 
 in love with him, and feigned herself sick, that she 
 might the more frequently enjoy the opportunities 
 of his society and conversation ; that Radcliffe 
 very ungallantly laid the whole affair before the 
 lady's father ; and that, in consequence, she was 
 almost immediately married to a nobleman who 
 had been before in vain soliciting the honour of 
 her hand. 
 
 In the month of December, 1694, Queen Mary 
 was seized with the small-pox, and her sickness 
 assumed the most alarming symptoms. Her Ma- 
 jesty's physicians were at their wits' end, and it 
 was decided by the Privy Council to send for 
 Kadclitfe, to avert, if possible, the calamity with 
 which the nation was threatened. At first sight of 
 the prescriptions, without having even entered the 
 chamber of the royal patient, he exclaimed, with 
 his characteristic rudeness, that " her Majesty was 
 a dead woman, for it was impossible to do any 
 good in her case, where remedies had been given 
 that were so contrary to the nature of the distem- 
 per : yet he would endeavour to do all that lay in 
 him to give her some ease." 
 
 For a short time there were some faint hopes of 
 K
 
 130 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 recovery, but his efforts were ultimately in vain, 
 and the queen died. Some few months after this 
 unhappy event, the doctor, who till then had kept 
 himself in the good graces of the Princess Anne 
 of Denmark, forfeited them, owing to his too 
 great addiction to the bottle, and after the fol- 
 lowing uncourtly manner. Her royal highness, 
 being indisposed, caused him to be sent for; in an- 
 swer to which, he promised to come to St. James's 
 soon after ; as he did not, however, make his 
 appearance, a messenger was again despatched 
 after him, to inform him that the princess was 
 extremely ill, and to describe the nature of her 
 indisposition. When Radcliffe heard the symp- 
 toms detailed, he swore by his Maker, " That her 
 highness's distemper was nothing but the va- 
 pours, and that she was in as good a state of 
 health as any woman breathing, could she but 
 believe it." No skill or reputation could excuse 
 this rudeness and levity ; he was, in consequence, 
 dismissed from his attendance on the princess, and 
 Dr. Gibbons succeeded him in the care of her health. 
 His credit with the king remained, notwithstanding, 
 undiminished, of which a splendid proof was given 
 in the following year, by his being sent for to go 
 abroad to attend the Earl of Albemarle, a great 
 favourite of his majesty, and who had a considerable 
 command in the army during the compaign which 
 ended with the taking of Namur. Radcliffe re- 
 mained in the camp a week only, was successful in 
 his treatment of his patient, and received from King 
 William 12001. ; from Lord Albemarle 400 guineas 
 and a diamond ring ; he was offered also the dig- 
 nity of a baronet, which he begged to decline, on
 
 RADCUFFK. 131 
 
 the plea of having no children to inherit the title. 
 In 1697, after the king's return from Loo, having 
 ratified the treaty of peace at Ryswick, his majesty 
 found himself much indisposed at his palace at 
 Kensington, and the advice of Radcliffe was had 
 recourse to. The symptoms of the disease were 
 dropsical, and though not treated very properly by 
 the other physicians, nor considered by them as 
 threatening any immediate danger, were looked 
 upon by him as of a formidable nature. The 
 interview which Radcliffe had with his majesty is 
 described by Pittis in the following words : 
 
 " The king, when the Doctor was admitted, was 
 reading Sir Roger L'Estrange's new version of 
 .ZEsop's Fables, and told him, that he had once 
 more sent for him, to try the effects of his great 
 skill, notwithstanding he had been told by his 
 body-physicians, who were not sensible of his 
 inward decay, that he might yet live many years, 
 and would very speedily recover. Upon which 
 the Doctor, having put some interrogatories to 
 the king, very readily asked leave of his majesty 
 to turn to a fable in the book before him, which 
 would let the king know how he had been treated, 
 and read it to him in these words : 
 
 " ' Pray, Sir, how do you find yourself ? says the 
 doctor to his patient. Why truly, says the patient, 
 I have had a most violent sweat. Oh ! the best 
 sign in the world, quoth the doctor. And then a 
 little while after, he is at it again, with a pray how 
 do you find your body ? Alas ! says the other, 
 I have just now such a terrible fit of horror and 
 shaking upon me ! Why this is all as it should be, 
 says the physician, it shows a mighty strength of 
 
 K2
 
 132 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 nature. And then he comes over him the third 
 time, with the same question again : Why I am 
 all swelled, says t'other, as if I had a dropsy. 
 Best of all, quoth the doctor, and goes his way. 
 Soon after this, comes one of the sick man's friends 
 to him, with the same question, How he felt him- 
 self? Why, truly so well, says he, that I am e'en 
 ready to die of I know not how many good signs 
 and tokens.' 
 
 " ' May it please your majesty, yours and the sick 
 man's case is the very same,' cries Radcliffe * you 
 are huoyed up with hopes that your malady will 
 soon be driven away, by persons that are not ap- 
 prized of means to do it, and know not the true 
 cause of your ailment : but I must be plain with 
 you, and tell you that, in all probability, if your 
 majesty will adhere to my prescriptions, it may be 
 in my power to lengthen out your life for three or 
 four years, but beyond that time nothing in physick 
 can protract it, for the juices of your stomach are 
 all vitiated ; your whole mass of blood is cor- 
 rupted, and your nutriment, for the most part, 
 turns to water. However, if your majesty will 
 forbear making long visits to the Earl of Brad- 
 ford (where the king was wont to drink very 
 hard) I'll try what can be done to make you 
 live easily, tho' I cannot venture to say I can 
 make you live longer than I have told you.' He 
 then left a recipe behind him, which was so happy 
 in its effects, as to enable the king, not only to 
 make a progress in the western parts of his king- 
 dom, but to go abroad, and divert himself at his 
 palace at Loo, in Holland." 
 
 In 1699, the Duke of Gloucester, heir-presump-
 
 RADCLIFFE. 133 
 
 tive to the crown, was taken ill; and notwithstand- 
 ing the antipathy felt by his mother, the Princess 
 of Denmark, to the personal attendance of Rad- 
 cliffe, he was sent for : he pronounced the case 
 hopeless, and vented his abuse upon the two other 
 physicians in no measured terms. He told them, 
 " That it would have been happy for this nation, 
 had the first been bred up a basket-maker, (which 
 was his father's profession,) and the last continued 
 making an havock of nouns and pronouns, in the 
 quality of a country schoolmaster, rather than 
 have ventured out of his reach, in the practice of 
 an art which he was an utter stranger to, and for 
 which he ought to have been whipped with one 
 of his oAvn rods." 
 
 . At the close of this year, the king, on his re- 
 turn from Holland, where he had not very strictly 
 followed the prudent advice given by Radcliffe, 
 being much out of order, sent for him again to the 
 palace at Kensington. In reply to some questions 
 put by the -physician, the king, showing his swollen 
 ankles, which formed a striking contrast with the 
 rest of his emaciated body, exclaimed, " Doctor, 
 what think you of these ?" " Why truly," said he, 
 "I would not have your majesty's two legs for 
 your three kingdoms." 
 
 With this ill-timed jest, though it passed unno- 
 ticed at the moment, the professional attendance 
 of Radcliffe at court terminated, nor would the 
 king ever suffer him to come again into his pre- 
 sence, notwithstanding the Earl of Albemarle, 
 who was then the chief favourite, used all his in- 
 terest to reinstate him in favour. After the death 
 of King William, which soon afterwards took
 
 134 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 place, an attempt was made to overcome the repug- 
 nance which was felt towards Radcliffe \>y Queen 
 Anne; but her majesty would by no means consent 
 to his coming at that time to 'court, alleging, in re- 
 ply to the recommendations of his friends, that he 
 would send her word again that her ailment was no- 
 thing else but the vapours. His advice was never- 
 theless frequently resorted to, on the various occa- 
 sions of her Majesty's illness, and for his opinions 
 and prescriptions he was most liberally rewarded. 
 In ] 704, at a general collection for propagating 
 the Gospel in foreign parts, Radcliffe, under a bor- 
 rowed name, and unknown to any member of the 
 society, settled 501. per annum for ever upon 
 them ; and, in the same year, he made a present 
 to the late deprived Bishop of Norwich, of 520/., 
 to be distributed amongst the poor nonjuring 
 clergy. The secret of the first act of liberality 
 transpired from the avowal of the trustee who 
 made the annual payment, and who thought the 
 knowledge of it might incite others to similar 
 deeds of charity. The letter which he wrote to 
 the bishop was found amongst the prelate's papers, 
 and ran as follows : 
 
 " Bloomsbury Square, July 24, 1704. 
 " My Lord, When I was the last time with 
 you at Hammersmith, you did me the honour to 
 tell me, that I had it in my power to be an assist- 
 ant to the poor suffering clergy, and that Mr. 
 Shepherd had contributed large sums to that end. 
 No one can be more sensibly touched with their 
 misfortunes than I am; and tho' I have not 
 abilities equal to the gentleman's before named, I
 
 RADCLIFFE. 135 
 
 intend not to fall short of him in my will to do 
 them all possible kind offices. The bills that bear 
 this company will testify my esteem for them; but 
 as gifts of this nature, if made public, carry a shew 
 of ostentation with them, I must be earnest with 
 you, my good Lord, to keep the name of the 
 donor secret. I have nothing more to intreat from 
 you, than the favour of your making choice of the 
 most deserving persons, and believing that I am, 
 with all possible sincerity, my Lord, 
 
 " Your Lordship's most obedient 
 
 " And most faithful servant, 
 
 "JoHN RADCLIFFE. 
 
 " Be pleased to limit the number to fifty per- 
 sons, that they may have 10/. per head." 
 
 In 1705, he bought an estate in the county of 
 Buckingham, for 12,000^. Many acts of liberality 
 and charity are recorded of him about this time ; 
 amongst them, a donation of money to Oxford, in 
 the year 1706, towards some public buildings then 
 going on ; but his means were now very ample, his 
 fortune amounting, in 1707, to 80,000/. 
 
 In conversation with Dr. Sprat, Bishop of 
 Rochester, concerning acts of charity, the prelate 
 dwelt upon the satisfaction which well-disposed 
 men feel, in seeing the result of their good deeds 
 in their lifetime, whereas Radcliffe was a strenu 
 ous advocate for posthumous benefactions : never- 
 theless, in a day or two, he addressed the follow- 
 ing letter to his Lordship : 
 
 " Bloomslury Square, May 26, 1707- 
 " My good Lord, The inclosed bills will suffi-
 
 ]36 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 ciently testify the deference I pay to your Lord- 
 ship's judgment, and my willingness to contribute 
 towards the relief of persons in distress for con- 
 science-sake. The insupportable tyranny of the 
 Presbyterian clergy in Scotland, over those of the 
 Episcopal persuasion there,* does, I hold with your 
 Lordship, make it necessary that some care should 
 be taken of them by us, that are of the same 
 household of faith with them, and by the late act 
 of Union (which I bless God I had no hand in) 
 of the same nation. But, my Lord, I need not 
 tell you, many collections of this nature have been 
 misapply 'd, and given to persons in no manner of 
 want, instead of those men in low circumstances, 
 that are real objects of compassion. I cannot be 
 induced to love a Scripture Janus, such as (if I 
 am not very much deceived) is the archbishop of 
 Glasgow, who, I must confess, talks very well; 
 and in our old acquaintance John Dryden's 
 words, 
 
 " Has brought the virtues of his soil along, 
 A smooth behaviour and a fluent tongue ;" 
 
 but acts very much like the Primate these verses 
 were made upon, for I never yet heard that, amidst 
 all his fine harangues to incite the people to exert 
 themselves in the support of the necessitous, this 
 most reverend father in God, notwithstanding he 
 is in circumstances so to do, has ever advanced one 
 shilling to his afflicted brethren, but has always 
 had a share, and that very large, of all sums that 
 have been gathered for their use. My Lord of 
 Edinburgh, Dr. Scott, Mr. Skeen, and others that 
 have been with me, are just objects of every 
 honest man's charity. They have suffered very
 
 RARCL1FFE. 137 
 
 much, without any token of despondency, or pu- 
 sillanimity, in the extremest difficulties. To such 
 as these, I beg of your Lordship, that the money 
 I have drawn for, in the name of Francis Andrews, 
 may be distributed, and in such portions as are 
 suitable to their respective characters, and the de- 
 mands of their families. 
 
 " Not that I would prescribe to a judgment so 
 unerring as your Lordship's, in the exercise of an 
 office which you have been always famed for the 
 discharge of, with the greatest exactness ; but 
 would remind your Lordship, that there are men 
 in the world, who, by an appearance of sanctity, 
 very often impose upon such as are really pos- 
 sessed of it. The very nature of these charities, 
 considering how obnoxious the gentlemen, whom 
 they are bestowed on, are to the present admini- 
 stration, requires secrecy as to the names of the 
 donors, yet, if it be thought necessary, for the 
 better satisfaction of those whom they are given 
 to, to set them down in a list, with the detail of 
 their respective contributors, it will be an act of 
 friendship in the good Bishop of Rochester, upon 
 many considerations, relating to my employ, and 
 otherwise, to make use of that which I have 
 drawn the bills in, rather than the name of, 
 
 " My good Lord, 
 " Your Lordship's most obedient 
 " And most devoted servant, 
 
 " JOHN RADCLIPFE. 
 
 "N.B. The bills before mentioned are for 300/., 
 and drawn upon Mr. Waldgrave, goldsmith, in 
 Russel Street, Covent Garden."
 
 138 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 Such solid proofs of genuine and unostentatious 
 benevolence will be allowed to have compensated 
 for many a rude speech : overbearing and hasty in 
 his temper, he possessed at the same time many 
 redeeming qualities ; and it should be recollected, 
 in considering his rough conduct towards his pro- 
 fessional brethren, that he had been spoiled by an 
 uninterrupted course of successful practice, and 
 that the habits of jovial indulgence, in which he 
 was countenanced by the society of persons of the 
 first quality of that period, would naturally tend 
 to make him less circumspect in his manners and 
 conversation than the decorum of modern days 
 would tolerate. 
 
 Notwithstanding these numerous acts of liber- 
 ality, his professional gains enabled him to pur- 
 chase various estates; in 1708, he added the 
 manor of Linton to his paternal inheritance in 
 Yorkshire, and bought another in Northampton- 
 shire, of the value of 800/. per annum. In the 
 same year he purchased also the perpetual advow- 
 son of the living of Headborne- Worthy, in Hamp- 
 shire, which he bestowed upon Mr. Bingham, 
 Fellow of University College, Oxford, a person of 
 great learning and merit. 
 
 The dangerous illness of Prince George of Den- 
 mark caused the queen to forget the former dis- 
 courteous levity of Radcliffe, and he was accord- 
 ingly once more applied to, and admitted into the 
 royal presence; but his skill proved unavailing, 
 and the prince died of a dropsy, consequent upon 
 an asthma of long standing. On the doctor's 
 arrival in Bath, where the prince was drinking the 
 waters, Pittis says the queen told him, " That no
 
 RADCLIFFE. 139 
 
 rewards or favours should be wanting, could he 
 but remove the convulsions she was troubled with, 
 in the cure of those which her dearly beloved hus- 
 band bore." But Radcliffe, continues his biogra- 
 pher, u who was unused to flatter, instantly gave 
 the queen to understand, that nothing but death 
 could release his Royal Highness from the pangs 
 he was afflicted with ; and though it might be a 
 rule amongst surgeons to apply caustics to such as 
 were burned or scalded, it was very irregular among 
 physicians to drive and expel watery humours from 
 the body by draughts of the same element ; and 
 that the prince had been so tampered with, that 
 nothing in the art of physic could keep him alive 
 more than six days." A prediction which was 
 verified. 
 
 In 1710, Radcliffe himself was attacked by ill- 
 ness, and on his recovery had thoughts of retiring 
 into the country, as the hurry of business had now 
 become burthensome to him : this intention, how- 
 ever, he was induced to relinquish, at the persua- 
 sion of Dr. Sharp, the archbishop of York ; and it 
 so happened, that this worthy prelate was the first 
 patient of distinction who profited by the doctor's 
 advice on his resuming the practice of his profes- 
 sion, as will appear from the following letter : 
 
 " Good Doctor, I must own, and I do it with 
 great pleasure, that next to the providence of the 
 great God, my recovery is owing to you. But the 
 diligence and concern you have shown in your 
 attendance upon me, is of far less moment than 
 your regard for the preservation of a gentleman* 
 
 * Dr. Sacheverel, at that time impeached.
 
 140 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 thro' whose sides the dignity of the sacerdotal 
 order is wounded. The reasons you give for 
 others to stand by him in the day of trial are very 
 just, and the pains you take in soliciting for his ac- 
 quittance extremely commendable. He should not 
 have carried things so far ; however, since he has, 
 it will be looked upon as an act of uncharitableness 
 in us, that are his brethren, not to endeavour to 
 exhibit him out of the difficulties he has plunged 
 himself into. I must applaud your making inte- 
 rest for bail for him, and think it much better that 
 the Doctors B s and L r should be his sure- 
 ties, than the Duke of B t and B m, because 
 they will not be so much the mark of the persons 
 at helm. I fear we shall not have power enough 
 to give a parliamentary sanction to the doctrines 
 he has preached ; but, in all probability, we shall 
 be able to mitigate the punishment some people 
 threaten him with. 
 
 " The expenses he must be at in his defence, 
 cannot but be very great, and beyond his abili- 
 ties ; therefore, I altogether approve your designs 
 towards the discharge of them, as a work of the 
 greatest charity, and am, 
 
 " Good Doctor, 
 " Your most obliged friend, 
 
 " And humble servant, 
 
 "JOHN EBOK." 
 
 About this time Radcliffe lost one of his most 
 intimate friends and companions, Lord Craven ; 
 and as he must have reflected that the death of this 
 nobleman had been accelerated by habits of excess 
 and indulgence, which his physician had, by his
 
 RADCLIFFE. 141 
 
 own example, rather contributed to countenance 
 than to check, it is no wonder that the event made 
 a great impression upon his spirits. He suddenly 
 became more grave and thoughtful ; and expressed 
 his feelings in this letter to their common friend, 
 the Duke of Beaufort. 
 
 " My dear Duke, You will doubtless be very 
 much surprised and grieved at the death of one 
 of your most intimate acquaintances, which makes 
 me wish that some other hand had eased mine of a 
 task that renews my affliction, at the same time it 
 gives birth to yours. But since it may be expected 
 from me, as the physician of the deceased, to give 
 you the circumstances of my poor Lord Craven's 
 sickness and untimely end, your Grace will have 
 the goodness to be made apprized of them after 
 this manner. His lordship, from a particular 
 freedom of living, which he took and always in- 
 dulged himself in, had contracted an obeseness of 
 body, that through want of exercise made him 
 entirely averse to it. This disposition bred an ill 
 habit of body in him, from whence proceeded 
 dropsical symptoms, which I endeavoured to pre- 
 vent the effects of, by proper remedies. Nor could 
 they have proved unsuccessful, had his lordship 
 been of a less hospitable temper, or the nobility 
 and gentry been less taken with the sweetness of 
 his conversation and affability of his deportment. 
 Alas ! 1 tremble for your Grace, when 1 consider 
 that all these good qualities, that were so eminent 
 and conspicuous in my dear breathless lord, occa- 
 sioned the very loss of them, for other noblemen's 
 imitation ; for by these engaging, these attractive,
 
 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 and alluring virtues, the best, good-natured com- 
 panion that ever lived, is lost, for ever lost, to all 
 our hopes and wishes, and had it not in his power 
 to abstain from what was his infelicity, while it 
 was thought to be his comfort. 
 
 " Poor William, Lord Craven ! How did I flatter 
 myself with the uninterrupted enjoyment of his 
 inviolate and unalterable friendship, during the 
 residue of those few years of life that are allotted 
 for me ! How have I dwelled upon the contem- 
 plation of his future acts of affection, loyalty, and 
 beneficence to the church, the state, and the com- 
 monwealth, when I should be laid low in the earth, 
 and be devoid of means to see and admire 'em ! 
 And yet, how have I been deceived in surviving 
 that dear, that agreeable person, whose death I 
 ardently desired, for the sake of posterity, to be 
 long, long preceded by my demise. 
 
 " Your Grace will pardon me this one soliloquy 
 in remembrance of a loss that is in common to all 
 who had the honour of his acquaintance, or who 
 might have received benefit by his example. And 
 give me leave to tell you, that next to yourself and 
 my good Lord of Denbigh, there is no one whose 
 welfare I had more at heart than his lordship's. 
 
 " "What is incumbent upon me, is to request of 
 your Grace to take care of a life so important as 
 yours is, in this dearth of great and valuable 
 men ; and to assure you, that while you consult 
 the preservation of your health, by letting the ex- 
 ercises of the field share with the pleasures of the 
 bottle, in so doing, your Grace will not only give 
 length of days to that which is mortal in your own 
 earthly fabrick, but for some small time longer
 
 RADCLIPFE. 143 
 
 prevent the return of that frail tenement of clay 
 to its first origin, which as yet continues to be 
 dragged on, by, 
 
 u My dear Duke, 
 " Your Grace's most obliged 
 
 " And faithful servant, 
 
 " JOHN RADCLIFFE." 
 
 Two years after the date of this letter the Duke 
 of Beaufort was taken ill of the small-pox ; and 
 the manner in which Radcliffe treated both the 
 disease and the friends of the patient is thus given 
 by Pittis. "The doctor was sent for, and found 
 his Grace's window-shutters closed up in such a 
 manner, by the old lady dutchess his grandmother's 
 order, that not a breath of air could come into 
 the room, which almost deprived the duke of the 
 very means of respiration. This method had 
 been observed by the physicians, in her Grace's 
 youthful days ; and this she was resolved to 
 abide by, as the most proper in this conjunc- 
 ture, being fearful that her grandson might other- 
 wise catch cold, and by the means of it, lose 
 a life that was so precious to her and the whole 
 nation. She had also taken a resolution to give 
 her attendance upon the duke in person, during 
 his sickness, and was in the most violent con- 
 sternation and passion imaginable when Dr. Rad- 
 cliffe, at his first visit, ordered the curtains of the 
 bed to be drawn open, and the light to be let in as 
 usual into his bed- room. ' How, said the dutchess, 
 have you a mind to kill my grandson ? Is this 
 the tenderness and affection you have always ex- 
 pressed for his person ? Tis most certain his 
 grandfather and I were used after another man-
 
 144 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 ner; nor shall he be treated otherwise than we 
 were, since we recovered, and lived to a great age, 
 without any such dangerous experiments.' ' All 
 this may be,' replied the doctor with his wonted 
 plainness and sincerity ; ' but I must be free with 
 your Grace, and tell you, that unless you will give 
 me your word that you'll instantly go home to 
 Chelsea and leave the duke wholly to my care, I 
 shall not stir one foot for him : which if you will 
 do, without intermeddling with your unnecessary 
 advice, my life for his that he never miscarries, 
 but will be at liberty to pay you a visit in a month's 
 time.' When at last, with abundance of difficulty, 
 that great lady was persuaded to acquiesce, and 
 give way to the entreaties of the duke and other 
 noble relations, and had the satisfaction to see her 
 grandson, in the time limited, at Chelsea, restored 
 to perfect health : insomuch that she had such an 
 implicit belief of the doctor's skill afterwards, that 
 though she was in the 85th year of her age at that 
 very time, she declared that it was her opinion she 
 should never die while he lived, it being in his 
 power to give length to her days by his never- 
 failing medicines." 
 
 During the stay of Prince Eugene in England, 
 which took place in this year, he condescended to 
 accept an invitation to dine with Radcliffe, Avho is 
 said to have treated his princely guest after the 
 fashion of true old English hospitality : instead of 
 the ragouts and other French dishes with which 
 the nobility had entertained him, the doctor or- 
 dered his own table to be covered with barons of 
 beef, legs of mutton and pork, and other substan- 
 tial British viands, and directed some strong beer, 
 seven years old, to be served round to the company,
 
 RADCLIFFE. 145 
 
 in addition to foreign wines. The prince was so 
 pleased with this national repast, that on taking 
 his leave, he addressed Radcliffe in French to the 
 following effect: "Doctor, I have been fed at 
 other tables like a courtier, but received at yours 
 as a soldier, for which I am highly indebted to 
 you, since I must tell you that I am more ambitious 
 of being called by the latter appellation than the 
 former. Nor can I wonder at the bravery of the 
 British nation, that has such food and liquors of 
 their own growth as what you have this day given 
 us a proof of." 
 
 In the following year (1713) he was elected 
 Member of Parliament for the town of Bucking- 
 ham, and began now to retire from practice, re- 
 commending Dr. Mead to his patients. During 
 his 'short; sitting in the House, he is recorded to 
 have made two speeches one in favour of the 
 malt-tax bill, the other in support of the bill to pre- 
 vent the growth of schism. The first began in this 
 manner : 
 
 " Mr. Speaker I am sensible, that tho' I 
 am an old man, I am but a young member, and 
 therefore should defer speaking till my betters 
 have delivered their sentiments ; but young and 
 old are obliged to shew their duty to their coun- 
 try, which I look upon with the eyes of a son to 
 his parent. Crassus's son, that was tongue-tied, 
 spoke when his father was in danger ; and I, who 
 otherwise should have no relish for speech-making, 
 do the same upon the same motive," &c. &c. 
 
 On the 28th of July, 1714, Queen Anne was 
 seized with the sickness which terminated her life. 
 Radcliffe was at that time not in London, but 
 
 L
 
 146 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 confined by a fit of the gout at his house at Car- 
 shalton, in Surrey: notwithstanding, his enemies 
 accused him of refusing to give his professional 
 advice in the case of his sovereign ; and a Member 
 of Parliament went even so far as to move, on the 
 5th of August, four days after the death of the 
 queen, that Radcliffe should be summoned to at- 
 tend in his place, in order to be censured for not 
 waiting upon her majesty in her last extremities. 
 Upon this occasion he wrote the following letter 
 to a friend. 
 
 " Carshalton, Aug. 7, 
 
 " Dear Sir I could not have thought so old an 
 acquaintance, and so good a friend, as Sir John 
 always professed himself, would have made such a 
 motion against me. God knows, my will to do 
 her majesty any service has ever got the start of 
 my ability, and I have nothing that gives me greater 
 anxiety and trouble than the death of that great 
 and glorious princess. I must do that justice to 
 the physicians that attended her in her illness, from 
 a sight of the method that was taken for her pre- 
 servation, transmitted me by Dr. Mead, as to de- 
 clare nothing was omitted for her preservation ; 
 but the people about her (the plagues of Egypt 
 fall on them !) put it out of the power of physick to 
 be of any benefit to her. I know the nature of 
 attending crowned heads in their last moments too 
 well, to be fond of waiting upon them without be- 
 ing sent for by a proper authority. You have 
 heard of pardons being sign'd for physicians, be- 
 fore a sovereign's demise. However, as ill as I 
 was, I wou'd have went to the queen in a horse-litter,
 
 RADCLIFFE. 147 
 
 had either her majesty, or those in commission next 
 her, commanded me so to do. You may tell Sir 
 John as much, and assure him from me, that his 
 zeal for her majesty will not excuse his ill-usage 
 of a friend who has drank many a hundred bottles 
 with him, and cannot, even after this breach of a 
 good understanding, that ever was preserved be- 
 tween us, but have a very good esteem for him. 
 I must also desire you to thank Tom Chapman for 
 his speech in my behalf, since I hear it is the first 
 he ever made, which is taken the more kindly ; 
 and to acquaint him, that I shall be glad to see 
 him at Carshalton, since I fear (for so the gout 
 tells me) that we shall never sit any more in the 
 House of Commons together. 
 
 I am, dear Sir, 
 
 " Yours with the greatest friendship 
 " And observance, 
 
 "JOHN RADCLIFFE." 
 
 The tide of popular feeling was, however, 
 against him ; and he was not without some appre- 
 hension of suffering even personal violence, in case 
 he ventured out, as will appear from this letter, 
 addressed to his friend Dr. Mead, at Child's Coffee- 
 house, in St. Paul's Churchyard. 
 
 " Carshalton, Aug. 3, 1714. 
 
 " Dear Sir I give you and your brother many 
 thanks for the favour you intend me to-morrow, 
 and if there is any other friend that will be agree- 
 able to you, he shall meet with a he_arty welcome 
 from me. Dinner shall be on the fable by two, 
 when you may be sure to find me ready to wait on 
 
 L 2
 
 ]48 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 you ; nor shall I be at any other time from home, 
 because I have received several letters that threaten 
 me with being pulled to pieces, if ever I come to 
 London. After such menaces as these, it is easy 
 to imagine that the conversation of two such very 
 good friends is not only extremely desirable, but 
 the'enjoyment of it will be a great happiness and 
 satisfaction to him who is, 
 
 " Dear Sir, 
 " Your most obliged 
 "Past four in the " Humble servant, 
 
 afternoon." "JOHN RADCLIFFB. 
 
 Radcliffe survived only a few months the date of 
 this letter, dying on the 1st Nov. 1714, in the 65th 
 year of his age, and falling, according to his ear- 
 liest biographer, " a victim to the ingratitude of a 
 thankless world, and the fury of the gout." 
 
 By his will he left his Yorkshire estate to the 
 Master and Fellows of University College for ever, 
 in trust for the foundation of two travelling fellow- 
 ships ; the overplus to be paid to them, for the pur- 
 pose of buying perpetual advowsons for the mem- 
 bers of the said college. The choice of the two 
 fellows was vested in the Archbishop of Canter-- 
 bury, the Lord Chancellor, the Chancellor of the 
 University of Oxford, the Bishops of London and 
 "Winchester, the two principal Secretaries of State, 
 the Lord Chief Justices of the King's Bench and 
 Common Pleas, and the Master of the Rolls all 
 for the time being. To St. Bartholomew's Hospi- 
 tal he gave, for ever, the yearly sum of 500^., 
 towards mending their diet, and the further yearly 
 sum of 1001. for buying of linen : 5000/. for the
 
 RADCLIFFE. 149 
 
 enlargement of the building of University College, 
 Oxford ; 40,000/. for the building of a library at 
 Oxford; and when the library should be built, 
 1501. per annum to the librarian, and 100Z. per 
 annum, for ever, for buying books. After the 
 payment of these bequests, and some legacies to 
 various individuals mentioned in the will, he gave 
 to his executors, in trust, all his estates in Buck- 
 inghamshire, Yorkshire, Northamptonshire, and 
 Surrey, to be applied to such charitable purposes 
 as they all, in their discretion, should think best ; 
 but no part thereof to their own use or benefit.* 
 
 Besides the Radcliffe Library, which was finished 
 and opened in 1749, the Observatory and public 
 Infirmary at Oxford were built from these funds, 
 the faithful and enlightened guardians of which 
 have ever been found ready to contribute, ac- 
 cording to their means, to every charitable and 
 useful purpose. In 1825, they gave 20001. to- 
 wards building the present College of Physicians ; 
 and, towards defraying the expenses of the erection 
 ' and completion of the Oxford Lunatic Asylum, 
 opened in 1827, they subscribed by four donations, 
 at different periods of that work, the sum of 2700/. 
 the ends and purposes of which establishment 
 seemed to accord with, and bear an affinity to, 
 those of the Radcliffe Infirmary. 
 
 * The first trustees were the Right Hon. William Bromley, Prin- 
 cipal Secretary of State, Sir George Beaumont, Bart., Thomas 
 Sclater, of Gray's Inn, Esq., and Anthony Keck, of Fleet-street, 
 Gentleman. The present trustees are, Lord Sidmouth, Mr. Cart- 
 wright, M.P. for Northamptonshire, Mr. Ashurst, M.P. for Oxford- 
 shire, Sir B. Peel, and Mr. Charles Bathurst. When any 
 vacancy occurs, it is filled up by the. remaining trustees electing 
 another.
 
 150 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 Radcliffe's body lay in state at the house where 
 he died, till the 27th of November ; it was then 
 removed to an undertaker's in the Strand, and 
 thence escorted to his favourite city, Oxford. 
 
 The following is the programme of the ceremony 
 to be observed at his funeral. 
 
 "At a General Meeting of the Vice- Chancellor, 
 Heads of Houses, and Proctors of the Uni- 
 versity of Oxford, at the Apodyterium (Ves- 
 try) of the Convocation-House, on Saturday, 
 Novr. 27, 1714, 
 
 "For the more solemn performance of the fu- 
 neral rites of the late Worshipful Doctor John 
 Radcliffe, our most munificent benefactor, it is 
 agreed and ordered as follows : 
 
 " I. That upon ringing St. Mary's great bell 
 on Wednesday next, at one of the clock in the 
 afternoon, all members of the Convocation do re- 
 pair to the publick schools, in their common gowns 
 and caps, there, together with the vice-chancellor 
 and proctors, to receive the corpse at the great 
 gate, and to attend the same to the Divinity 
 School, where it is to be deposited, and to lie for 
 public view till eleven of the clock on Friday 
 morning. 
 
 "II. That on Friday, at twelve of the clock, 
 upon tolling St. Mary's great bell, all members of 
 the Convocation aforesaid, (as also the noblemen,) 
 do meet in the Convocation House, in such their 
 several habits and hoods as are usually worn at 
 the holding a Convocation ; there to abide in their 
 
 E roper seats, whilst the public orator makes a 
 atin oration over the body, which on that occa-
 
 RADCLIFFE. 151 
 
 sion is to be removed thither, and whilst other 
 proper ceremonies are performing. 
 
 "III. That from thence, all the company do 
 attend the body by Brazen-Nose, Lincoln, Exeter, 
 and Jesus Colleges, to North-Gate, and so by 
 Carfax to St. Mary's Church; where, all persons 
 being seated in their proper places, and the burial 
 service being begun by Mr. Vice-Chancellor, after 
 the lesson, a funeral anthem is to be sung by the 
 choir; and when that is ended, and the corpse 
 brought to the grave, the orator is to make an- 
 other short speech, after which, the remaining part 
 of the burial office being performed, every one is 
 quietly to depart home. 
 
 " IV.- That a Convocation be held, in which the 
 benefactions of Dr. Radcliffe being first declared, 
 a proposal shall be made to the house for a decree 
 to enrol the Doctor's name in the registry of the 
 public benefactors of the University, for conferring 
 honorary degrees, and for giving all other possible 
 testimonies of our grateful regard to the testimony 
 of the deceased. 
 
 "V. All Bachelors of Arts and Under-gra- 
 duates are hereby strictly commanded to behave 
 themselves in a manner suitable to so solemn an 
 occasion. And all persons whatsoever are en- 
 joined, upon the severest penalties, not to tear off 
 the escutcheons, or to make any disturbance in 
 the Church, the Divinity School, or in any part of 
 the procession. And all Magistrates are to take 
 care that no disorder may happen through the 
 whole course of the solemnity, or, at least, that 
 no offender may go unpunished. 
 
 " BERN. GARDINER, Vice-Chancellor.
 
 152 BRITISH PHYSICIAN'S. 
 
 "All Colleges and Halls are desired to toll a 
 bell from twelve of the clock on Wednesday, and 
 from twelve of the clock on Friday, till the great 
 bell of St. Mary's ceases on each day." 
 
 A few years ago, about 1820, the situation of 
 his grave in St. Mary's Church was not very 
 precisely known; but on opening one near the 
 supposed spot, a brick grave was discovered, 
 which proved to be that of Radcliffe, by the evi- 
 dence of a gold coffin-plate ; the simple inscrip- 
 tion of which was forthwith copied, and engraved 
 on the marble pavement -stone immediately over 
 the place. 
 
 JOHN RADCLIFFE 
 
 M. D. 
 
 DIED NOV B . THE I ST . 1714, 
 
 IX THE 65 TH . YEAR 
 OP HIS AGE. 
 
 But where, and of whom, can it be said with so 
 much propriety as of Radcliffe, in the classical 
 city of Oxford, embellished, as it is, with buildings 
 that bear his name 
 
 Si monumentum requiris, circumspice ? 
 
 In the course of this memoir many instances 
 have been given to show that Radcliffe was bold, 
 rude, and frequently wanting in the common cour- 
 tesies of life, particularly towards his professional 
 brethren, with whom he was always waging war. 
 This trait of his character was happily ridiculed 
 in the " Map of Diseases," given by Martin 
 Scriblerus, which was "thicker set with towns 
 than any Flanders' map;" for there Radcliffe was 
 painted at the corner, contending for the universal
 
 RADCLIFFE. 153 
 
 empire of this world, and the rest of the physi- 
 cians opposing his ambitious designs, with a pro- 
 ject of a treaty of partition to settle peace. 
 
 With such a disposition, one cannot be surprised 
 that his fame and success raised him up many 
 envious rivals, who were unwilling to give him 
 any other praise than that of an active, ingenious, 
 adventuring empiric, whom constant practice had 
 brought at length to some skill in his profession. 
 On the other hand, he has been represented by 
 Dr. Mead, who knew him well, and was a most 
 competent judge of his merits, " to have been de- 
 servedly at the head of his profession, on account 
 of his great medical penetration and experience." 
 
 Richardson relates of him that he once said to 
 Dr. Mead, "I love you, and now I will tell you 
 a sure secret to make your fortune ; use all man- 
 kind ill" and it certainly was his own practice. 
 Radcliffe himself owned that he was avaricious, 
 even to spunging (whenever he could contrive to 
 do it), at a tavern reckoning, a sixpence or shil- 
 ling among the rest of the company, under pre- 
 tence of hating (as he ever did) to change a 
 guinea, because (said he) it slips away so fast. 
 He would never be brought to pay bills without 
 much following and importunity ; nor even then, if 
 there appeared any chance of wearying out his 
 creditors. A pavier, after long and fruitless at- 
 tempts, caught him just getting out of his chariot 
 at his own door, in Bloomsbury Square, and set 
 upon him. "Why you rascal," said the doctor, 
 " do you pretend to be paid for such a piece of 
 work ? why, you have spoiled my pavement, and 
 then covered it over with earth to hide your bad
 
 154 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 work." " Doctor," said the pavier, " mine is not 
 the only bad work that the earth hides." " You 
 dog, you," said Radcliffe, "are you a wit? you 
 must be poor come in ;" and paid him. 
 
 If this fondness for money be truly imputed to 
 him, it must, at the same time, be admitted by all, 
 that 
 
 though he were unsatisfied in getting 
 (Which was a sin) yet in bestowing 
 He was most princely.
 
 155 
 
 M E A D. 
 
 RICHARD MEAD \vas born at Stepney, near Lon- 
 don, on the llth of August, 1673. His father, 
 Matthew Mead, a name still eminent amongst 
 divines, had been one of the two ministers of that 
 parish, but had been ejected for non-conformity, in 
 the second year after the restoration of Charles the 
 Second. This circumstance did not prevent him 
 from continuing to preach there before a nume- 
 rous congregation of dissenters, until his demise 
 in 1699. His fortune was considerable, and he 
 bestowed a liberal education on a progeny of thir- 
 teen children, of whom Richard was the eleventh. 
 A private tutor was maintained in his house until 
 the violent measures of 1683 scattered this little 
 seminary abroad. King Charles was resolved to 
 wreak his revenge on those whom he could not 
 make proselytes to his principles, or to his want of 
 principle ; the aged minister of Stepney was ac- 
 cordingly accused of being privy to some designs 
 against the government, and, as a non-conformist 
 could not trust to the consciousness of innocence, 
 he committed the chance of safety to flight. 
 Having placed Richard at a good school, he de- 
 parted for Holland. The boy distinguished him- 
 self early by his attainments in the Greek and 
 Latin languages, and was sent to complete his 
 studies at Utrecht, at the age of sixteen. The
 
 156 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 eminent Grsevius was here his preceptor; and 
 after a residence of three years, being resolved to 
 dedicate himself to medicine, he bent his steps to 
 Leyden. Pitcairn was the professor of the prac- 
 tice of medicine at this university, and his young 
 pupil managed to unlock his usual reserve so far, as 
 even to obtain from him several valuable hints, of 
 which he afterwards availed himself in his writings, 
 but never without an acknowledgment of their 
 origin. 
 
 When his medical education was accomplished, 
 he travelled in various parts of Europe, and parti- 
 cularly in Italy, in company with his eldest bro- 
 ther, with David Polhill, Esq., and with Dr. Pellet, 
 who subsequently became president of the London 
 College of Physicians. He appears to have em- 
 ployed this opportunity to great advantage ; and 
 at Padua took the degree of doctor. He returned 
 home in 1696, and commenced the practice of his 
 profession in the house where he had first seen the 
 light. During some years of residence at Stepney, 
 he succeeded in establishing his reputation. In 
 1701 he published his "Mechanical Account of 
 Poisons" on which he had been some time em- 
 ployed. He deserves particular notice, as having 
 been one of the early votaries of experimental 
 physiology : no small degree of courage was ne- 
 cessary for the path which he had chosen. He 
 handled vipers, provoked them, and encouraged 
 them to seize hold of hard bodies, on which he 
 imagined that he could collect their venom in all 
 its force. Having obtained the matter, he con- 
 veyed it into the veins 6f living animals, mixed it 
 with human blood, and even ventured to taste it,
 
 MEAD. 157 
 
 in order to establish the utility of sucking the 
 wounds inflicted by serpents. He laboured to 
 discover a specific for the cure of hydrophobia, 
 and has only added his great name to the long 
 catalogue of failures. He alludes to the investiga- 
 tion of some chemical substances, whose publica- 
 tion might have been injurious to society; this 
 was neither a vain insinuation, nor a groundless 
 fear, in the age in which Mead lived, when secret 
 poisoning had attained a fatal perfection in some 
 parts of Europe, and when the infant state of che- 
 mical science had not yet revealed the numerous 
 tests which we now possess for detecting the pre- 
 sence of poison. Whatever may be the merit of 
 these Essays, their author afforded a noble instance 
 of candour, when, forty years afterwards, he re- 
 traced, in a second edition, not a few of his 
 former opinions, acknowledging, that " in some 
 facts he had been mistaken, and in some con- 
 clusions too precipitate." In his younger days 
 he had believed that he could account, mechani- 
 cally, for the effects of several poisons, by their 
 mixture with the blood; but, improved by age and 
 experience, he became convinced, that, in all liv- 
 ing creatures, a matter infinitely more subtile, 
 exists, over which poisons possess a real, although 
 inexplicable, power. 
 
 His second work attempted to illustrate the 
 Influence of the Sun and Moon upon Human 
 Bodies; but, as the Journal des Sgavans of the 
 time says, " the particular merit of this book is, 
 that, independently of the system, we find it filled 
 with a number of observations of great importance 
 in the practice of medicine."
 
 158 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 In his travels through Italy he had met with the 
 letter of Bonomo, which contains an Account 
 of the cutaneous Worms which generate the 
 Itch. Mead presented an analysis of Bonomo's 
 researches to the Royal Society. He was 
 elected a fellow, and two years afterwards, placed 
 on the council, of which he continued a member 
 from 1707 till his death. Sir Isaac Newton 
 appointed him, in 1717? one of the vice-presi- 
 dents. In 1703, Mead was chosen physician of 
 St. Thomas's Hospital, and, about the same time, 
 was appointed by the company of Surgeons to 
 read the anatomical lectures in their hall, which 
 he continued to do during six or seven years 
 with much credit. Mead has thus the honour of 
 forming one link in that chain of physicians who, 
 down to the resignation of Baillie, were almost 
 the sole teachers of anatomy in this country. 
 The University of Oxford conferred the doc- 
 torate on him in 1707 5 an( l i n 1716 he was ad- 
 mitted a fellow of the College of Physicians. 
 He was one of the censors of that body in 1716, 
 1719, and 1724, but declined to accept the office 
 of President, which was offered to him in 1744. 
 George the Second, who had employed him in 
 his family whilst Prince of Wales, appointed him 
 his own physician, on succeeding to the throne in 
 1727- Mead was now fast approaching the 
 summit of his fortune : Radcliffe took particular 
 pleasure in promoting the interests of an indi- 
 vidual whose character was totally opposite to his 
 own, and towards whom, perhaps, from that very 
 contrast, he felt an attraction. Into whatever fa- 
 vourable situations Radcliffe may have promoted
 
 MEAD. 159 
 
 Mead, it is certain, that his amiable manners and 
 fine accomplishments would enable him firmly to 
 maintain his place. On the death of his protector, 
 Mead moved into his house in Bloomsbury Square, 
 and resigned the hospital. 
 
 Two days before the demise of Queen Anne, 
 Mead was called to a trying situation, to consult 
 at the bedside of a dying sovereign. lie possessed, 
 "however, not merely the professional knowledge, 
 but also the intimacy with society, and the ready 
 tact which the emergency demanded. Some in 
 such situations find a protection in reserve, but 
 Mead, either more penetrating or more decided 
 than the other attendants on her majesty, no 
 sooner was admitted to her presence, than he de- 
 clared that she could not long survive. Finding 
 it difficult to obtain assent, he intimated that it 
 would be sufficient to send to Hanover an account 
 of the symptoms, from which the physicians at- 
 tached to that court would at once perceive, that 
 before the detail reached them, the subject of it 
 must have ceased to exist. 
 
 Mead had frequently perceived the efficacy of 
 purgatives in preventing or diminishing the se- 
 condary fever, in cases of confluent small-pox, 
 and in 1747 he printed his " Treatise on the Small- 
 Pox and Measles," in Latin. The purity and ele- 
 gance of style exhibited in this work have attracted 
 the admiration of scholars. He subjoined a " Trans- 
 lation from Rhazes," in order to show the con- 
 formity existing between the practice of the Ara- 
 bians and that recommended by Sydenham and 
 Freind. Boerhaave, with whom Mead had kept 
 up a constant correspondence, supplied him with
 
 160 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 the only remaining Arabic manuscript of the 
 Essay of Rhazes, which is preserved at Leyden. 
 Mead had been long before instrumental in pro- 
 moting inoculation for the small-pox. The Prince 
 of Wales desired him, in 1721, to superintend the 
 inoculation of some condemned criminals, intend- 
 ing afterwards to encourage the practice, by em- 
 ploying it in his own family : the experiment 
 amply succeeded, and the individuals on whom it 
 was made recovered their liberty. 
 
 When the terrible plague which ravaged Mar- 
 seilles communicated a dread of its recurrence in 
 England, the question of contagion was warmly 
 agitated. The majority of the French physicians 
 discredited its contagious origin, and the interests 
 of commerce in our own country favoured the 
 negative view. On the other hand, the risk of 
 neglecting to guard against the deadly invader, 
 induced the government to apply to Mead for ad- 
 vice on the occasion. After a careful examination 
 of the subject he declared his opinion that the 
 plague is a contagious distemper, and a quaran- 
 tine was accordingly enjoined. In his Short Dis- 
 course concerning Pestilential Contagion, and the 
 methods to le wed to prevent it, he has given 
 ample directions for the system of Medical Police 
 which ought to be enforced in case of the actual 
 occurrence of the plague, a calamity from which 
 we have happily escaped. This tract excited so 
 much interest at a period of alarm, that it passed 
 through seven editions in one year. 
 
 Without the interposition of Dr. Mead, there is 
 reason to believe that the invention of Sutton for 
 expelling the foul and corrupted air from ships
 
 MEAD. 161 
 
 and other close and confined places, would have 
 shared the same fate with many other useful dis- 
 coveries, which ignorance, jealousy, and often 
 private interest, have stifled in their birth. But 
 fortunately, our illustrious patron of science, 
 being at first sight convinced of the advantages of 
 his method, was determined to procure time and 
 patience for a scheme of whose ultimate success 
 he was confident : accordingly he engaged the 
 Lords of the Admiralty to order a trial of the new 
 machine to he made, at which he himself assisted 
 with them, and with several fellows of the Royal 
 Society, whom he had interested in the cause : he 
 presented a memorial to that learned body, in which 
 he demonstrated its simplicity and efficacy ; and 
 also procured a model of it to be made in copper, 
 which he deposited in their museum. At last, after 
 a ten years' tedious solicitation, he obtained from 
 the Lords of the Admiralty an order to Mr. Sutton 
 to provide all the ships of his Majesty's navy with 
 this useful machine. We believe that it has been 
 since superseded by more recent inventions. 
 
 Mead gradually felt that disposition to retire 
 from the giddy whirl of professional routine which 
 usually induces the wise to snatch, if possible, a 
 short interval of repose and retrospection between 
 the infirmities of age and the parting moments of 
 existence. This period he partly occupied in the 
 composition of his Medico, Sacra, or Commentary 
 on the more remarkable diseases of which mention 
 is made in the Bible ; in which it was his object to 
 reconcile the knowledge derived from actual ob- 
 servation with the .features of malady which are 
 there delineated. He is of opinion that the de- 
 ll
 
 162 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 moniacs were lunatics and epileptics. The most 
 important of all" his works was also the fruit of those 
 hours of leisure his Medical Precepts and Cau- 
 tions, in which he has frankly delivered the result 
 of his extensive experience, and of his mature 
 reflection He concludes the work with some able 
 remarks on the preservation of bodily and mental 
 health, which derive additional weight as the last 
 words of an octogenarian. Compared with similar 
 productions of its epoch, this book stands high on 
 the ground of judgment and of taste; it is gene- 
 rally free from the superstitious polypharmacy 
 which defaces many of its contemporaries, and from 
 the diffuseness and verbiage which the fashion of 
 the time abused into the multiplication of bulky vo- 
 lumes. It is highly valuable as a compendious and 
 elegant specimen of the doctrines and practice of 
 the first half of the last century. Such were the em- 
 ployments of his latter years : the advancement of 
 physical science, and an explanation of some of the 
 difficulties which casually present themselves to the 
 student of that nobler study which pursues immor- 
 tality : " how worthy," to use the words of one 
 of this numerous biographers, " is that man to have 
 lived, who dies thus occupied ! " 
 
 After the most brilliant career of professional 
 and literary reputation, of personal honour, of 
 wealth, and of notoriety, which ever fell in com- 
 bination to the lot of any medical man in any age 
 or ci'Untry, Mead took to the bed from which he 
 was to rise no more, on the llth of February, and 
 expired on the 16th of the same month, 1754. 
 His death was unaccompanied by any visible signs 
 of pain.
 
 MEAD. 163 
 
 In practice he had been absolutely without a 
 rival ; his average receipts had, during several 
 years, amounted to between six and seven thousand 
 pounds, an enormous sum in relation to the value of 
 money at that period. So great was the anxiety to 
 obtain his opinion, that he daily repaired to a coffee- 
 house in the city, and to another at the west end of 
 the metropolis, to inspect written or to receive oral 
 statements from the apothecaries, and to deliver his 
 decision. His charity and his hospitality were un- 
 bounded ; the epithet " princely" has often been 
 applied to him on this head, but he has truly left an 
 example which men of all ranks may be proud to 
 imitate according to their means ; these qualities in 
 Mead were not the result of the accident which ex- 
 alts or limits our means, but were the spontaneous 
 expression of his heart. His gratuitous advice 
 was ever open, not merely to the indigent, but 
 also to the clergy, and to all men of learning ; and 
 he devoted his emoluments to the patronage of 
 literature and of the fine arts in a manner that 
 requires a more distinct mention. 
 
 Radcliffe was a worthy predecessor of Mead in 
 the magnificent use which he made of his fortune. 
 We may safely challenge any country to produce 
 two individuals of the same profession, and flou- 
 rishing at the same period, who have with equal 
 generosity applied their revenue to the promotion 
 of science and of erudition, and to the relief of 
 misery. But Mead excelled all the nobility of his 
 age and country in the encouragement which he 
 afforded to the fine arts, and to the study of anti- 
 quity. Considered merely in the light of a patron, 
 he would remain perhaps the most conspicuous
 
 164 BRITISH PHYSICIANS.' 
 
 example of that character which biography has 
 celebrated ; but when to his exertions in that diffi- 
 cult and often thankless career are added the most 
 eminent medical practice of his time, consummate 
 acquirements, and literary labours important to the 
 healing art, we shall find it difficult to select his 
 equal among the annals of any period. Those 
 excellent traits do not, however, complete his por- 
 trait ; a noble frankness, suavity of manners, mo- 
 deration in the estimate of his own merit, and a 
 cordial acknowledgment of the deserts of his 
 contemporaries ; liberality, not merely of purse, but 
 also of sentiment, must be drawn in order to finish 
 the likeness. 
 
 In some respects his position in society resem- 
 bled that which Sir Joseph Banks so long occu- 
 pied to the honour of his country ; but circum- 
 stances and natural genius had conspired to endow 
 Mead with a more delicate and refined taste 
 and a more comprehensive range of perception 
 and of knowledge. Justly is it to be regretted that 
 so few among the many opulent and gifted indi- 
 viduals who adorn our times, have been disposed 
 or enabled to imitate the example which these two 
 illustrious persons have bequeathed to posterity. 
 Mead possessed in an extreme degree the taste for 
 collecting ; but his books, his statues, his medals, 
 were not at all confined to ornament a secluded 
 apartment, or to amuse only his own leisure ; the 
 humble student, the unrecommended foreigner, the 
 poor inquirer, derived almost as much enjoyment 
 from these unburied treasures as their ingenious 
 owner.* In his spacious mansion, in Great Or- 
 
 * Sir Hans Sloane, \re may digress to enumerate as another of
 
 MEAD. 165 
 
 raond-street, he had built a gallery, which only his 
 opulence and taste could have filled. The printed 
 catalogue of his library contains 6592 separate 
 numbers ; the most rare and ancient works were to 
 be found there : Oriental, Greek, and Latin ma- 
 nuscripts formed no inconsiderable part. His col- 
 lection of statues, coins, gems, prints, and drawings, 
 will, probably, remain for ever unrivalled amongst 
 private amateurs. His pictures alone were sold, at 
 his death, for 3400^. Ingenious men sought in his 
 house the best aid for their undertakings, and in 
 the owner their most enlightened, as well as most 
 liberal, patron. He constantly kept in his pay 
 several scholars and artists, who laboured, at his 
 expense, for the benefit of the public. 
 
 His correspondence extended to all the prin- 
 cipal literati of Europe. They consulted him, and 
 sent him curious presents, but in such acts he was 
 
 those physicians who, not satisfied with a life of liberality, have 
 considered, in their last moments, in what manner they might 
 render themselves most beneficial to posterity. The foundation of 
 the British museum was the immediate result of his will, in which 
 he directs, that, after his decease (which occurred in 1753) the 
 whole of his museum of natural and artificial curiosities, which had 
 cost him fifty thousand pounds, should be offered to Parliament for 
 the moderate sum of twenty thousand pounds, to be paid to his 
 family. The contents of his collection were very various, and con- 
 sisted of a library of 50,000 volumes, of 23,OffO medals and coins, of 
 anatomical preparations, specimens of natural history, and a variety 
 of other objects, whose particulars were entered in a catalogue, 
 comprising thirty-eight volumes folio, and eight volumes quarto : 
 such was the origin of the British Museum, which was opened in 
 1759. Thirty years before his death, Sloane had presented to the 
 company of Apothecaries his botanical gardens at Chelsea ; and 
 they have erected a statue of the founder in front of the green- 
 house.
 
 166 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 more frequently the creditor than the debtor. The 
 King of Naples sent to request of him a complete 
 collection of his treatises, and, in return, gave him 
 the great work, which he was then encouraging, 
 on the antiquities of Herculaneum ; a compliment 
 not the less flattering from an accompanying invi- 
 tation to Mead to visit him at his palace. At his 
 tahle might be seen tbe most eminent men of the 
 age, both natives and foreigners ; and he was often 
 the only individual present who was acquainted 
 with all their different languages. Pope was a 
 ready guest, and the delicate poet was always sure 
 to be regaled with his favourite dish of sweetbreads. 
 Politics formed no bar of separation : Mead was a 
 zealous Whig ; but the celebrated physicians Garth, 
 Arbuthnot, and Freind, were not the less his inti- 
 mate associates, because they were Tories. Towards 
 the learned Freind he displayed a remarkable in- 
 stance of disinterestedness. Freind was a member 
 of parliament, (a distinction which we should 
 gladly find more frequent in the history of medical 
 men,) and was sent to the Tower for some sup- 
 posed political offence. "While in confinement, he 
 commenced that precious History of Medicine 
 which has transmitted his name to posterity. Mead 
 frequently visited him, attended his patients in his 
 absence, employed the warmest solicitations with 
 Sir Robert "NValpole for his release, and when he 
 had procured his liberation, presented him with a 
 very large sum, which he had received from the 
 clients of his brother practitioner. The good of 
 mankind, and the honour of his country, were two 
 of his ruling principles. He persuaded the wealthy
 
 107 
 
 citizen, Guy, to bequeath his fortune towards the 
 foundation of the nohle hospital which has ho- 
 nourably consecrated his name. 
 
 Mead was twice married : by his first wife, 
 Ruth Marsh, he had eight children. One of his 
 daughters was married to Sir Edward Wilmot, 
 Bart., an eminent physician, who enjoyed the 
 particular favour of George the Second and Third ; 
 another became the wife of Dr. Frank Nicholls, 
 who was the most distinguished anatomical 
 teacher of his time, and was the inventor of cor- 
 roded anatomical preparations : he was likewise 
 physician to the king. Mead's second wife was 
 Anne, the daughter of Sir Rowland Alston, Bart. 
 Although his receipts were so considerable, and 
 although two large fortunes were bequeathed to 
 him, his benevolence, public spirit, and splendid 
 mode of living, prevented him from leaving great 
 wealth to his family. The physician, who was 
 the Mecsenas of his day, whose mansion was a 
 grand museum, who kept a second table for his 
 humbler dependents, and who was driven to his 
 country house, near Windsor, by six horses, was 
 not likely to amass wealth, but he did better 
 he acted according to his conviction, that what 
 he had gained from the public could not be more 
 worthily bestowed than in the advancement of the 
 public mind ; and he truly fulfilled the inscription 
 which he had chosen for his motto : 
 
 Non sibi sed toti.
 
 168 
 
 H U X H A M. 
 
 THE writings of John Huxhara have obtained far 
 more notoriety than the incidents of his life, of 
 which scarcely any traits remain. He was the 
 son of a butcher at Halberton, in Devonshire. In 
 early life he appears to have displayed a strong 
 bent towards medical pursuits, which he cultivated 
 with much ardour at Leyden, a university very 
 high in reputation at the period of his studies, and 
 of which he became one of the most eminent gra- 
 duates. Plymouth was the scene of his profes- 
 sional career, where he finally acquired extensive 
 practice, and realized a considerable fortune. He 
 early obtained entrance into the Royal Society, 
 and communicated several papers on pathology 
 and morbid anatomy, which are printed in the 
 Philosophical Transactions. 
 
 Huxham deserves particular honour as being 
 one among those physicians who returned first to 
 the path of observation, and who made nature 
 their especial object of study and reflection, instead 
 of blindly commenting on the dreams of their pre- 
 decessors. It was not that he despised the know- 
 ledge to be gathered from books, or the fruits of 
 former experience ; on the contrary he was pro- 
 foundly versed in the ancient writers, was tho- 
 roughly imbued in particular with the works of 
 Hippocrates, and composed in the Latin language
 
 IIUXIIAM. 169 
 
 with much fluency. But he perceived that the 
 master, who was the object of his veneration, had 
 derived his light from a careful and minute in- 
 spection into the regions of disease, and in this 
 respect he sedulously imitated his example with a 
 success which few have had the perseverance to 
 attain. He paid an earnest attention to the fluc- 
 tuations of the seasons, to the changes of weather, 
 and to their influence on the production of disease. 
 This was the field Avhich Huxham chiefly culti- 
 vated, an obstinate and difficult soil, demanding 
 constant attention, and vigilant patience, and most 
 slow in the rewards which it yields to the labourer. 
 In the two volumes of his Observations de Aere 
 et Morbis Epidemicis, he has detailed the results 
 of a register kept at Plymouth during nearly thirty 
 years (from 1724 to 1752). A third volume was 
 edited after his death, which occurred at Plymouth, 
 in 1708. This supplementary volume Avas pub- 
 lished in 1770, by his son; and it is much to be 
 regretted that this gentleman, who was also a 
 Fellow of the Royal Society, did not enrich the 
 work by some records of that father, who has 
 stamped a lasting, although modest celebrity on 
 the name of Huxharn. His Treatise on Fever has 
 become the most popular of his works; it appeared 
 in 1750, and was rapidly translated into German 
 and French. His French biographer (1822) eulo- 
 gizes it in terms which will not find universal 
 assent in this country; he asserts that it is infi- 
 nitely superior to the various Treatises on Fever 
 which have been subsequently published in Eng- 
 land, without excepting that of Cullen. This 
 preference seems to be founded on his having
 
 170 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 assigned an inflammatory cause to the greater part 
 of fevers; or, in other words, on his having ap- 
 proximated in principle to the school of Broussais. 
 The German historian of medicine, Sprengel, more 
 temperately ranks his work as the best which ap- 
 peared on that subject during the first half of the 
 eighteenth century. His discrimination and de- 
 scription of the slow nervous fever form one of its 
 most remarkable features. A singular distinction 
 befell Huxham in consequence of this production. 
 The Queen of Portugal was attacked with fever 
 and was reduced to the last extremity, in spite of 
 the exertions of the physicians of her country. 
 The king at length summoned the physician at- 
 tached to the British factory. This gentleman 
 declared that he entertained some hope of her 
 recovery, but stipulated on her being resigned to 
 his sole discretion. Under his treatment the dis- 
 order soon took a favourable turn, and her majesty 
 rapidly convalesced. On being complimented at 
 this successful issue, the physician replied that his 
 only merit consisted in the application of doctrines 
 which he had learned from the work of Huxham. 
 The king immediately procured a translation of it 
 to be made into the Portuguese language, which 
 was published in a handsome quarto, and was 
 transmitted by him to Huxham in a rich form. 
 
 Huxham was also the author of Observations 
 on Antimony, in 1756. An antimonial wine was 
 formerly sold under his name, and a tincture of 
 bark still bears it. His theory and practice were 
 considerably influenced by the old humoral pa- 
 thology, but he was not a blind partisan. He 
 differs from many practitioners of his age in the
 
 IIUXIIAM. 7 
 
 paucity of prescriptions scattered through his 
 works, and indeed lays it down, that the physi- 
 cian who knows a disease, cannot be at a loss re- 
 specting the form of his remedy; an opinion in 
 which we cannot implicitly defer to his authority. 
 His works have always been popular in Germany 
 and France. They were collected by Reichel, and 
 published in three volumes octavo, at Vienna, in 
 1773. We believe that a new edition of them 
 will shortly appear at Leipsic, as a portion of the 
 Collected Latin Medical Classics, an enterprise 
 which reflects honour on Germany since the ex- 
 hibition of such respect to the great observers of 
 former times does not at all interfere with the 
 pursuit of modern improvements, but is highly 
 useful in tending to correct the prejudice, which 
 flatters itself that every new case is a discovery.
 
 172 
 
 PRINGLE. 
 
 BOTH the families from which this physician des- 
 cended are of ancient and honourable standing in 
 the sonth of Scotland. His father was Sir John 
 Pringle, Bart., of Stichell, and his mother was 
 sister to Sir Gilbert Elliott, of Stobs, who also 
 enjoyed the same rank. 
 
 He was born in 1707, at Stichell House, in the 
 county of Roxburgh, and after an early education 
 by a private tutor under his father's roof, was 
 removed to the University of St. Andrews. After 
 a residence here of some years, he went to Edin- 
 burgh, in 1727, with the view of studying physic, 
 the profession which he was now resolved to 
 follow. Another account supposes, that after 
 he had studied at Edinburgh, he was intended for 
 commerce, and was sent to Amsterdam to further 
 that object ; and that, while in Holland, his mind 
 received an accidental direction towards medicine 
 from hearing a lecture, at Leyden, delivered by 
 Boerhaave, which made a particular impression 
 on his mind. It appears certain that he remained 
 only one year at Edinburgh, and then hastened 
 to avail himself at Leyden of the closing labours 
 of the illustrious Boerhaave, who was then con- 
 siderably advanced in years, and whom a longer 
 delay might have finally precluded him from hear- 
 ing : nor were* the instructions of that great master
 
 PRLXGLE. 
 
 scattered on a barren soil. During ln's studies, 
 which were most diligent, he formed an intimate 
 friendship with Van Swieten, who ultimately ac- 
 quired at Vienna, and, indeed, throughout Europe, 
 a reputation of equal lustre. In 1730, his gradua- 
 tion was accompanied by a thesis " De Marcore 
 Senili," and his diploma was signed, among 
 other professors, by Boerhaave, Albinus, and 
 Gravesande. 
 
 Pringle now settled in Edinburgh, and even in 
 the early part of his career obtained universal 
 esteem. These are not mere words of course, 
 since we find him appointed in 1734, to be joint 
 Professor of Moral Philosophy, with the right of 
 succession on the death of his senior. His text 
 book, in discharging this new employment, was 
 PufFendorff's treatise De Officio Hominis et Civis; 
 but he continually recommended to his pupils 
 the works of Bacon, and particularly the Novum 
 Organon. He annually delivered several lectures 
 on the Immateriality and Immortality of the 
 Soul. 
 
 That a young physician should commence his 
 practice by becoming a professor of ethics may, to 
 some, appear an extraordinary mode of introduc- 
 tion to eminence in the art of healing. Few, 
 however, have attained more practical skill, more 
 intimate acquaintance with their own peculiar sci- 
 ence, or more deserved success than Pringle. To 
 suppose that general attainments in knowledge, 
 and even a predilection for its finer literature, 
 have a tendency to disqualify or enfeeble the 
 medical practitioner, is to avow an ignorance of 
 the character and private history of the most dis-
 
 174 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 tinguished men who in every age and country 
 have improved or elevated that profession. Va- 
 riety of knowledge was never seen to encumber 
 the possessor; on the contrary, it prepares an 
 ampler space and a firmer footing for all that is to 
 come after. In the numberless and unexpected 
 emergencies which occur in the relief of diseases 
 of the body and the mind, in the ever varying 
 combinations of causes and of character which 
 present themselves, an almost universal acquain- 
 tance with nature and art would seem to be de- 
 manded. The power of making good observations, 
 a retentive memory, a fixed attention, and the 
 habit of generalizing, are among the most impor- 
 tant qualities of the physician, and these can 
 only be acquired or strengthened by an early and 
 extensive intellectual education. Some of the 
 most enlightened governments of Europe have 
 perceived this truth during the present century, 
 and now exact from the candidate for medical 
 honours a course of more or less rigorous prelim- 
 inary studies in general literature : we may cite 
 France and Prussia in particular. The science of 
 medicine is truly an alembic, through which the 
 most dissimilar ingredients may be distilled into a 
 pure and precious elixir vitse. 
 
 A new field of exertion awaited Pringle, when, 
 in 1742, he was appointed physician to the Earl 
 of Stair, who then commanded the British army 
 on the continent. This was the golden moment of 
 his life, from which his eminence begins to date. 
 For this appointment he was chiefly indebted to 
 his friend Dr. Stevenson, an eminent physician at 
 Edinburgh, who was intimately acquainted with
 
 PRINGLE. 175 
 
 this nobleman. Through the interest of his new 
 patron he was appointed physician to the military 
 hospital in Flanders ; and it was provided in his 
 commission that he should receive a salary of 
 twenty shillings a day, and he entitled to half-pay 
 for life. The attention which he paid to his duty 
 as an army physician does not require to be en- 
 larged upon. His Treatise on the Diseases of the 
 Army, which was first printed in 1752, is an ample 
 proof of his zeal and industry in the branch of 
 duty to which he had been so unexpectedly sum- 
 moned, and testified that his previous pursuits had 
 only rendered him more ready for any new depart- 
 ment of his profession. One most humane mea- 
 sure, and hitherto unpractised in Avarfare, appears 
 to have sprung principally from his suggestion. 
 It had been previously customary to remove the 
 sick for the purpose of security, when the enemy 
 was near, to a considerable distance from the 
 camp, and many were, consequently, lost before 
 they could be placed under the care of medical 
 officers. Lord Stair, sensible of this evil, proposed 
 to the Duke de Noailles, when the army was en- 
 c.-imped at Aschaflfenburg, in 1743, that the hospi- 
 tals, on both sides, should be considered as sanc- 
 tuaries for the disabled, and mutually protected. 
 The French commander, a nobleman distin- 
 guished for benevolence, readily acceded to the 
 proposition. After the battle of Dettingen, when the 
 British hospital was at Feckenheim, a village upon 
 the Maine, at a distance from the camp, the Duke, 
 having occasion to send a detachment to another 
 village upon the opposite bank, and apprehending 
 tha tthis measure might alarm the sick, despatched
 
 176 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 information to them that he had given express 
 orders to his troops to forbear from disturbing 
 them. This noble agreement was rigidly observed 
 by both parties during that campaign. 
 
 When deprived of the presence of Lord Stair, 
 who soon retired from the command, Pringle re- 
 commended himself so well to the Duke of Cum- 
 berland, as to receive from his hands, in 1745, a 
 commission appointing him physician-general to 
 our forces in the Low Countries, and other parts 
 beyond sea; and, on the following day, he was 
 presented with a second commission from the 
 Duke, as physician to the royal hospitals in these 
 countries. Finding himself now permanently em- 
 ployed, he resigned his professorship at Edinburgh, 
 which had been continued under his name by 
 assistants. In 1745 he was recalled to England 
 to attend the forces which were to be sent against 
 the Scotch malcontents. He was about the same 
 time chosen a fellow of the Royal Society. In 1747 
 and ] 748 he again accompanied the troops abroad, 
 and after the conclusion of the treaty of Aix-la- 
 Chapelle finally established himself in London, 
 where his connexions and active exertions soon 
 raised him into extensive practice. In 1749 he 
 was appointed physician in ordinary to the Duke 
 of Cumberland; and in 17^0, he published, in a 
 letter to Dr. Mead, his Observations on the Gaol 
 or Hospital Fever. This essay was occasioned by 
 the gaol distemper, which prevailed at that time in 
 London, and in his choice of this theme for his first 
 literary effort we perceive that skill in availing 
 himself of the circumstance of the moment which 
 usually characterizes superior minds, and conducts
 
 PBINGLE. 177 
 
 to that success which the careless routineer ascribes 
 to chance. A variety of papers from his pen now 
 enriched the Philosophical Transactions ; one of 
 the most remarkable contained his " Experiments 
 upon Septic and Antiseptic Substances, with re- 
 marks relating to their use in the Theory of Medi- 
 cine," and Copley's gold medal was the reward of 
 this ingenious investigation. Another gave an 
 " Account of several persons seized with the Gaol 
 Fever by working in Newgate, and of the manner 
 by which the infection was communicated to one 
 entire family." This communication was deemed 
 so important by the eminent Dr. Stephen Hales, 
 that he requested the author's permission to pub- 
 lish it, for the common benefit of the kingdom, in 
 the Gentleman's Magazine, at that time by far 
 the most popular literary vehicle in the country. 
 A remarkable case of fragility, flexibility, and 
 dissolution of the bones, and a relation of the 
 virtues of soap in dissolving the stone, formed 
 two of his next contributions to the society of 
 which he was so distinguished an ornament. 
 
 In 1752, he married a daughter of Dr. Oliver, 
 an eminent physician of Bath, but this lady did 
 not long participate in his increasing celebrity. 
 About the time of his marriage appeared the 
 first edition of the work which has stamped 
 his name on the list of medical classics, and to 
 which we have before alluded. This celebrated 
 book passed through, we believe, seven editions 
 during the life of the author, and was trans- 
 lated into German, French, and Italian, dis- 
 tinctions which were at that period not so easily 
 accorded as at present. Few medical works have 
 
 N
 
 178 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 enjoyed a more friendly or universal reception than 
 the Observations on the Diseases of the Army : 
 in alluding to it Haller designates the author as 
 " Vir illustris, de omnibus bonis artibus bene 
 meritus." From the time that Pringle had been 
 appointed physician to the army, it seems to have 
 been his favourite object to soften, as far as was 
 in his power, the sufferings attendant on warfare, 
 and his benevolent efforts were not fruitless. 
 Among the important points which he illustrates, 
 are, the force which may at any time be relied 
 upon for service ; the effects of long or short 
 campaigns upon the health of soldiers ; the differ- 
 ence between taking the field early, and going late 
 into winter-quarters ; and other calculations founded 
 on the materials which warfare too liberally sup- 
 plies. He has proved the indispensable necessity 
 of a free circulation of atmospheric air in hospi- 
 tals, from observing, amongst other facts, that the 
 sick who were placed in hospitals having defective 
 doors and windows were most speedily restored to 
 health, and were less subject to relapses. Desge- 
 nettes observes, that he has often verified this 
 assertion in the French military hospitals, and 
 that he has frequently had occasion to break the 
 windows of hospitals, when the indifference or 
 prejudices of the attendants precluded other means 
 of a regular ventilation. General Melville, when 
 governor of the Neutral Islands, was enabled to 
 be singularly useful, in consequence of the instruc- 
 tions which he had received from the writings and 
 conversation of Pringle. By taking care to have 
 his men always lodged in large, open, and airy 
 apartments ; and by rapidly shifting their quarters
 
 PRINGLE. 179 
 
 from the low, damp, and marshy parts of the coun- 
 try, to the dry and hilly grounds, so as never to 
 let his forces remain long enough in the swampy 
 places to be injured by their malaria, he preserved 
 the lives of seven hundred soldiers. 
 
 In 1753, Pringle was chosen one of the council 
 of the Royal Society. Honours of every sort now 
 crowded upon him with that accumulative rapidity 
 which usually follows the individual on whom the 
 sun of prosperity has once begun to shine, and 
 who has sufficient prudence to warm himself in its 
 rays, without being dazzled by sudden brilliance. 
 On the marriage of George the Third, he was ap- 
 pointed physician to the young queen, and a few 
 years subsequently was created a baronet. He had 
 been previously admitted as a licentiate of the 
 London College of Physicians, and, in 1763, was 
 elected a fellow of that body. We soon find him 
 physician to the Princess Dowager of Wales ; and, 
 after being incorporated into several foreign so- 
 cieties, he obtained, in 1772, the highest distinc- 
 tion of his career, in the eminent office of president 
 of the Royal Society. The period of his election 
 was a fortunate epoch of natural knowledge : a 
 taste for experimental investigation was diffusing 
 itself through every part of the civilized world, and 
 the genius of Pringle found a happy occupation in 
 cherishing, this spirit. A universality of know- 
 ledge, and a singular liberality of spirit, united to 
 very considerable experience, both of active and 
 studious life, seem to have peculiarly fitted him for 
 his difficult post. Sir Godfrey Copley had, ori- 
 ginally, bequeathed five guineas to be given, at 
 each anniversary meeting of the Royal Society, 
 
 N2
 
 180 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 by the determination of the president and council, 
 to the author of the best experimental observa- 
 tions made during the preceding year. This 
 pecuniary offering was, at length, converted, 
 with greater propriety, into a gold medal ; and 
 Pringle ably carved a new road to personal dis- 
 tinction and utility, by the excellent discourses 
 which he took occasion to deliver on the pre- 
 sentation of this annual tribute. Six of these 
 have been edited by Dr. Kippis, and display an 
 intimate acquaintance with the history of philo- 
 sophy, a noble zeal for its advancement, and a 
 style unaffected, elegant, and perspicuous. The 
 subject of the fourth discourse was particularly 
 suited to his disposition aud pursuits ; it accom- 
 panied the award of the medal to Capt. Cook, and 
 discussed the means employed by that sagacious 
 commander towards preserving the health of sea- 
 men. The intimate friendship which subsisted 
 between them renders it probable that Pringle 
 had communicated some valuable suggestion on 
 the subject to his intelligent friend ; and no pupil 
 in the schools of Hygiene has ever existed, more 
 capable of reducing its rules to practice, since, 
 with a crew of one hundred and eighteen men, 
 Cook performed a voyage of three years and 
 eighteen days, throughout all the climates between 
 fifty-two degrees north and seventy-one degrees 
 south, and only lost one companion of his wander- 
 ings. The use of sweet-wort, a rigid attention to 
 cleanliness, and the careful preservation of his 
 company from wet, and other injuries of weather, 
 formed the chief part of his dietetic code. His 
 example has not been lost upon our navy, which
 
 PRINGLE. 181 
 
 now maintains, in the confinement of a ship, a 
 degree of health nearly equal to, if not often ex- 
 ceeding, the average observed at home. 
 
 Pringle became physician extraordinary to the 
 king in 1774. We have not room for the enume- 
 ration of the honours which he gradually received 
 from abroad, and can only select his admission as 
 one of the foreign members of the Royal Academy 
 of Sciences at Paris, to which he succeeded on tho 
 vacancy which Linnams had left in a society not 
 prodigal of its favour. He had been elected to 
 the chair of the Royal Society in the sixty-sixth 
 year of his age, and the pressure of advancing 
 time, increased by an injury from a fall, induced 
 him, in 1778, to resign his arduous dignity, al- 
 though earnestly solicited to retain it. The illus- 
 trious Banks was appointed his successor. Pringle's 
 house continued to be the resort of ingenious men 
 of all nations ; his conversations, given on Sunday 
 evenings, formed a point of union between his own 
 friends and scientific travellers. He hoped, at 
 length, to derive advantage to his infirmities from 
 a journey to Scotland, and for a short time fixed 
 his residence at Edinburgh. But Edinburgh, 
 however interesting in other respects, failed in 
 restoring to his spirits the renovating impulse 
 which he had fondly anticipated : it presented the 
 wreck of former ties, and that melancholy spec- 
 tacle of vanished kindred and declining friends, 
 which ever awaits the aged wanderer on revisiting 
 the scenes of his youth. Before entirely quitting 
 this city he presented ten volumes, folio, of Me- 
 dical and Physical Observations, in manuscript, 
 to the College of Physicians. He was, at the
 
 182 "BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 same time, preparing two other volumes, con- 
 taining the prescriptions referred to in the pre- 
 vious ones. 
 
 He did not long survive his return to London. 
 On the 14th of January, 1782, he -was dining with 
 a small cluh, which was held at Watson's, in the 
 Strand ; a fit seized him, from which he never re- 
 covered. He died a few days after, in his seventy- 
 fifth year. 
 
 Pringle devoted much time to the study of di- 
 vinity during the latter part of his life. In early 
 life, his religious opinions seem to have been fluc- 
 tuating, but he diligently investigated the subject 
 in his maturer days, and became an earnest reader 
 of commentators on the Scriptures, and of ser- 
 mons. He published, at his own expense, some 
 Theological Letters, which Michaelis had ad- 
 dressed to him. 
 
 Bacon was his favourite author ; in his school 
 he had endeavoured to discipline his mind. To 
 metaphysics, which he had formerly publicly pro- 
 fessed, he latterly lost all attachment. Though 
 he did not derive much pleasure from poetry, he 
 was a lover of music, and had even been a per- 
 former at a weekly concert at Edinburgh. 
 
 A monument was erected to his memory in 
 Westminster Abbey ; and Vicq d'Azyr, as well as 
 Condorcet, celebrated his name in eulogies deli- 
 vered before the Academy of Paris. He must be 
 ranked with the most successful individuals who 
 have ever cultivated physic, since he obtained, 
 conjointly, the patronage of the great, the respect 
 of the learned, and the confidence of the public.
 
 183 
 
 FOTHERGILL. 
 
 THE father of John Fothergill was a member of 
 the estimable society of Quakers, and resided at 
 Carr-End, in Yorkshire, the family estate of a pre- 
 ceding generation, where this excellent man was 
 born in the year 1712. He was one of many 
 children, a circumstance which is generally, and 
 with justice, considered favourable to the develop- 
 ment of talents. His chief literary education was 
 imbibed in the school of Jedburgh, in Yorkshire, 
 a seminary which has acquired both classical and 
 mathematical reputation. About the age of six- 
 teen, he was apprenticed to Mr. Bartlett, an 
 eminent apothecary at Bradford, who had previ- 
 ously been the master of Dr. Hillary. His saga- 
 city and assiduity soon induced his intelligent 
 preceptor to permit him to visit and prescribe for 
 his patients. On the expiration of his term, he 
 repaired to Edinburgh, at a period when the pro- 
 fessorial chairs were occupied by Monro, Alston, 
 Rutherford, Sinclair, and Plummer, all students of 
 the Boerhaavian school, and whose merits have 
 been recorded, by Fothergill himself, in an ac- 
 count which he published, in after life, of Dr. 
 Russell, his contemporary and associate. The 
 eminent Monro discovered the powers of his pupil, 
 and urged him to reside sufficiently long to obtain 
 the doctorate for till then he had only intended to
 
 184 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 qualify himself for the profession of an apothecary. 
 He used to take notes of the heads of each lec- 
 ture, and on returning to his lodging, translated 
 into Latin those which had been given in English ; 
 he then carefully consulted and compared the 
 opinions, hoth of the ancients and the moderns, on 
 the subject of the lecture, to which he added such 
 remarks upon each as his reading and reflection 
 suggested. In his clinical studies he followed 
 a similar plan ; when any case occurred to fix his 
 attention, he examined the various authorities 
 which bore upon the point, and formed a compa- 
 rative result from their evidence and opinions. 
 Many years afterwards he recommended this me- 
 thod to Dr. Lettsom, in a letter which concludes 
 by enforcing " the careful perusal of Hippocrates, 
 and also of Aretseus and Celsus : one can never 
 be too well acquainted with the knowledge con- 
 tained in the first, nor with the elegant expres- 
 sions of the last." These modes of study are not 
 peculiar to Fothergill, but they are important to 
 remark in tracing the steps by which an obscure 
 man attained independence and distinction, and 
 strengthen the evidence of the efficacy of earnest 
 reading in a profession which is by many sup- 
 posed to depend for success on natural abilities, or 
 worldly industry, or mere personal observation 
 whereas none more requires all the assistance that 
 can be derived from the experience of others. 
 Monro, in the fourth edition of his Osteology, 
 which appeared in 1746, acknowledges the aid 
 which he had obtained from his young pupil. In 
 addition to his other occupations, Fothergill pre- 
 served a diary of his actions and occurrences, in
 
 FOTHERGILL. 185 
 
 Latin. He graduated in 1736, and chose the use of 
 Emetics for the subject of his thesis. He now came 
 to London, the scene of all his subsequent emi- 
 nence, and frequented the wards of St. Thomas's 
 Hospital, where his application was equally unre- 
 mitting. In 1740 he accompanied some friends 
 on a short excursion to the continent, of which a 
 brief sketch remains in a Latin letter addressed to 
 his friend Dr. Cuming, of Dorchester. On his re- 
 turn he settled in Gracechurch-street, and in 1746 
 became a licentiate of the College of Physicians. 
 
 The fertility of his mind now began to evince 
 itself in some detached essays, among which we 
 remark one " On the Origin of Amber," his obser- 
 vations on the Manna Persicum, and more particu- 
 larly those " On a Case of recovering a Man dead 
 in appearance." It is possible that these last may 
 have had some share in contributing to the esta- 
 blishment and regulations of the Humane Society, 
 which was several years after founded by the ex- 
 ertions of Dr. Hawes and others. 
 
 A large practice rapidly rewarded the pains 
 which he had bestowed on his education : as to 
 his pecuniary means or early patrons little infor- 
 mation remains, but it is certain that he acquired 
 employment more early than the generality of his 
 brethren : it is probable that the religious com- 
 munity of which he was a worthy member contri- 
 buted something to the rapidity of his advance- 
 ment. Nothing (says Dr. Lettsom) hurt his feel- 
 ings more, than an estimate of the medical pro- 
 fession, formed upon lucrative advantages ; he was 
 ever averse to speak of his pecuniary emoluments: 
 " My only wish," he declared, " was to do what
 
 186 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 little business might fall to my share as well as 
 possible ; and to banish all thoughts of practising 
 physic as a money-getting trade, with the same 
 solicitude as I would the suggestions of vice or 
 intemperance." These were not mere words of 
 parade : when the success of his practice had ele- 
 vated him to 'the summit of his career, he still 
 professed and acted upon the same generous 
 reasoning. "I endeavour," says he, in a letter 
 written several years afterwards, " to follow 
 my business, because it is my duty, rather than 
 my interest ; the last is .inseparable from a just 
 discharge of duty ; but I have ever wished to look 
 at the profits in the last place, and this wish has 
 attended me ever since my beginning." In an- 
 other place he remarks, " I wished most fervently, 
 and I endeavour after it still, to do the business that 
 occurred, with all the diligence I could, as a present 
 duty^ and endeavoured to repress every rising idea 
 
 of its consequences such a circumscribed, 
 
 unaspiring temper of mind, doing every thing with 
 diligence, humility, and as in the sight of the God 
 of healing, frees the mind from much unavailing 
 distress, and consequential disappointment." These 
 familiar effusions of a spirit which cannot be ac- 
 cused of imbecility or apathy, are the more inte- 
 resting, because few of the distinguished members 
 of the medical profession have bequeathed to us so 
 explicit an avowal of the motives which animated 
 or sustained them in one of the most rugged roads 
 of human travel. 
 
 In 1748 Fothergill raised his reputation to a 
 great height by his " Account of the Sore Throat 
 attended with Ulcers; a disease which hath of
 
 FOTHERG1LL. 187 
 
 late years appeared in this city, and in several 
 parts of the nation." A disorder of this kind had 
 lately caused much havoc, and not least among 
 the higher orders of society. Two nephews of 
 the Duke of Newcastle had fallen victims to it, 
 and its progress excited great alarm. Here 
 Fothergill found an opportunity for bringing his 
 penetration to hear on a topic of new and imme- 
 diate interest, and he availed himself to the ut- 
 most of the favourable moment. He had observed 
 that the methods of cure usually resorted to, 
 such as bleeding, purging, and the medicines 
 daily employed to remove inflammations, in ge- 
 neral produced an injurious effect in this epi- 
 demic. It was confounded in ordinary practice 
 with the common sore throat, or inflammation 
 of the tonsils. Our author carefully distin- 
 guished the variety in the nature of the complaint, 
 and in the progress of the symptoms, which 
 were here usually of the typhoid kind, and pre- 
 sented a disposition to gangrene in the parts 
 affected. His practice was temperate, yet not 
 guided by any exclusive views ; even gentle pur- 
 gatives he found injurious, but clysters might be 
 given, in case of constipation. A gentle emetic was 
 often prescribed ; gargles, bark combined with the 
 mineral acids, and various stimulants, formed the 
 basis of the treatment. The Spanish physicians 
 had pursued a somewhat similar plan in the visi- 
 tations which they had experienced of this com- 
 plaint. Fothergill uses the following expressions 
 in summing up this subject : they will afford a 
 specimen of his pathology. "The cause of this 
 tendency (to putrefaction) is a putrid virus, or
 
 188 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 miasma sui generis, introduced into the habit by 
 contagion ; principally by means of the breath of 
 the person affected. This virus, or contagious 
 matter, produces effects more or less pernicious 
 according to the quantity and nature of the infec- 
 tion, and as the subject is disposed to receive or 
 suffer by it. Putrefactive and malignant diseases, 
 in common, admit of the most sensible and secure 
 relief from discharges of the peccant matter, either 
 upon the skin in general, or on particular parts of 
 the body. The redness, and cutaneous efflorescence, 
 in the present case, may be considered as an erup- 
 tion of the like nature, and therefore to be pro- 
 moted by such methods as have proved successful 
 in similar diseases. A cordial, alexipharmic, 
 warm regimen has been found by experience to be 
 of the most use in such cases." Called in on this 
 occasion by many of the first families in the me- 
 tropolis, he improved the opportunity so well that 
 he soon acquired a large income. The generality 
 of medical men usually entertain a particular 
 affection for some one or more branches of their 
 professional studies, and the public has gained 
 considerably by this occasional preference, which, 
 while it does not necessarily diminish the attention 
 of the individual to the ultimate object of his sci- 
 ence, is sometimes the source of discoveries or 
 institutions important to the community at large. 
 Chemistry and botany were the favourite objects 
 of his hours of relaxation or retirement. At Upton, 
 near Stratford in Essex, he purchased an extensive 
 estate, and furnished a noble garden, whose walls 
 enclosed five acres, with a profusion of exotics 
 which he spared no pains in collecting. " At an
 
 FOTIIERGILL. J 8U 
 
 expense seldom undertaken by an individual, and 
 with an ardour that was visible in the whole of 
 his conduct, he procured from all parts of the 
 world a great number of the rarest plants, and 
 protected them in the amplest buildings which 
 this or any other country has seen. He liberally 
 proposed rewards to those whose circumstances 
 and situations in life gave them opportunities of 
 bringing hither plants which might be ornamental, 
 and probably useful to this country, or her colo- 
 nies; and as liberally paid these rewards to all 
 that served him. If the troubles of war had per- 
 mitted, we should have had the Cortex Winter- 
 anus, &c. &c., introduced by his means into this 
 country; and also the Bread-Fruit, Mangasteen, 
 &c,, into the West Indies. For each of these, and 
 many others, he had fixed a proper premium. In 
 conjunction with the Earl of Tankerville, Dr. 
 Pitcairn, and myself, he sent over a person to 
 Africa, who was employed upon the coast 
 of that country, for the purpose of collecting 
 plants and specimens. Those whose gratitude 
 for restored health prompted them to do what 
 was acceptable to their benefactor, were always 
 informed by him, that presents of rare plants 
 chiefly attracted his attention, and would be 
 more acceptable to him than the most generous 
 fees. How many unhappy men, enervated by the 
 effects of hot climates, where their connexions had 
 placed them, found health on their return home at 
 that cheap purchase ! What an infinite number of 
 plants he obtained by these means, the large 
 collection of drawings he left behind will amply 
 testify; and that they were equalled by nothing
 
 190 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 but royal munificence, at this time largely bestowed 
 upon the botanic gardens at Kew. In my opinion, 
 no other garden in Europe, royal or of a subject, 
 had nearly so many scarce and valuable plants. 
 That science might not suffer a loss, when a plant 
 he had cultivated should die, he liberally paid the 
 best artist the country afforded, to draw the new 
 ones as they came to perfection ; and so numerous 
 were they at last, that he found it necessary to 
 employ more artists than one, in order to keep 
 pace with their increase. His garden was known 
 all over Europe, and foreigners of all ranks asked, 
 when they came hither, permission to see it ; of 
 which, Dr. Solander and myself are sufficient wit- 
 nesses, from the many applications that have been 
 made through us for that permission." 
 
 The account which we have here given is the 
 more honourable to Fothergill, because it comes 
 from the pen of a distinguished individual, who 
 was not merely an excellent judge of horticultural 
 pursuits, but the patron of all that was useful to his 
 country and his age, the late Sir Joseph Banks. 
 A winding canal, in the figure of a crescent, 
 formed this garden into two divisions, and occa- 
 sionally opened on the sight, through branches of 
 rare shrubs, which lined the walks on its sides. 
 In the midst of winter, when the earth was covered 
 with snow, evergreens were here clothed in full 
 verdure. Without exposure to the open air, a glass 
 door, from the mansion-house, gave entrance into 
 a suite of hot and green-house apartments, nearly 
 260 feet in extent, and containing above 3400 
 distinct species of exotics, whose foliage formed 
 a beautiful contrast to the shrivelled natives of
 
 FOTIIERGILL. 191 
 
 colder climes. In the open ground, about 3000 
 distinct species of plants and shrubs bloomed on 
 the return of summer. 
 
 Such displays were not in him the effect of 
 ostentation ; he had always in view the enlarge- 
 ment and elevation of his own mind, and the pros- 
 pect of multiplying the enjoyments of his fellow- 
 beings. He formed a useful exchange of the 
 productions of the earth. From America he re- 
 ceived various species of catalpas, kalmias, mag- 
 nolias, firs, oaks, maples, and other valuable 
 productions, which became inhabitants of his own 
 soil, and some of which were capable of being 
 applied to the most useful purposes of timber; 
 and he transported, in return, the green and bohea 
 teas from his garden at Upton, to the southern 
 part of that continent. He endeavoured to im- 
 prove the growth and quality of coffee in the West 
 Indian Islands; and procured from China the 
 bamboo cane, with a view of naturalizing it in our 
 intertropical possessions. He made many efforts 
 to introduce the cinnamon-tree into the West In- 
 dian colonies. He attempted to procure the tree 
 which affords the Peruvian bark, and is said to 
 have, at length, so far succeeded, as to have had 
 one plant in his garden. To two captains of ships 
 he offered each a reward of one hundred pounds for 
 a plant in vegetation of the true Winter's bark 
 (Winterana aromatica). But his attention was 
 not confined to the vegetable kingdom. Da Costa 
 is indebted to him for many valuable remarks in- 
 serted in his History of Shells, of which Fother- 
 gill possessed the best cabinet in England, next to 
 that of the Duchess of Portland. His collection
 
 192 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 of minerals was more rare than extensive ; and the 
 gratitude of his numerous friends had supplied 
 him with many curious specimens of the animal 
 world. He afforded employment to many artists, 
 in directing the delineation of various productions 
 of Nature, which were too bulky to transport, or 
 too perishable to preserve : twelve hundred of such 
 drawings are said to have been in his possession, 
 and were purchased, at his death, for the Empress 
 of Russia, at the price of 2,300/. His collection of 
 natural history was purchased, on his decease, by 
 the eminent Dr. William Hunter, and is, pro- 
 bably, at this moment, to be found, in part, in 
 the museum which that distinguished physician 
 bequeathed to the University of Glasgow, after 
 having vainly solicited the Ministers of the time 
 to enable him to establish one in London. 
 
 He maintained a frequent correspondence with 
 North America, where his father and brother had 
 spent many years in the service of religion. Se- 
 veral families are said to have even crossed the 
 Atlantic, with a view of placing themselves under 
 his care. He earnestly laboured to promote the 
 improvement of rural economy and of commerce 
 in that part of the world. In conjunction with his 
 friend, Peter Collinson (a name upon which we 
 should be glad to dwell more at length), he encou- 
 raged the cultivation of the vine there ; and still 
 more usefully strove, with others, to abolish the 
 slave trade among his own brethren an object 
 which they at length had the happiness to accom- 
 plish. 
 
 Charity was the predominant feature in Fother- 
 gill's character ; that beautiful quality which many
 
 FOTHERGILL. 193 
 
 find so difficult to imitate, and which, in most 
 minds, is a flower the slowest to blossom, and 
 the earliest to decay. Few names on the record of 
 biography will bear comparison with him in this 
 respect. We do not know whether this noble 
 characteristic was in him the result more of an ori- 
 ginal tenderness of disposition, or of self-discipline 
 and principle ; it seems probable that the study of 
 our Divine Revelation had opened this plenteous 
 fountain of beneficence in a mind not naturally of 
 an enthusiastic temperament. When, during the 
 summer, he retired to Lea-Hall, in Cheshire, he 
 devoted one day in every week to attendance at 
 Middlewich, the nearest market-town, and gave 
 his gratuitous advice to the poor. He assisted the 
 clergy, not merely with his advice, but on nu- 
 merous occasions with his purse : on one occasion 
 he was reproved by a friend for his refusal of a fee 
 from a person who had attained a high rank in the 
 church : " I had rather" (replied the doctor) 
 " return the fee of a gentleman with whose rank 
 I am not perfectly acquainted, than run the risk of 
 taking it from a man who ought, perhaps, to be the 
 object of my bounty." When he paid his last visit 
 to patients in decayed circumstances, it was not 
 unusual with him, under the appearance of feeling 
 the pulse, to slip into their hand a sum of money, 
 or a bank-note ; in one instance, this mode of do- 
 nation is said to have conveyed one hundred and 
 fifty pounds. To the modest or proud poverty 
 which shuns the light of observation, he was the 
 delicate and zealous visitor ; in order to preclude 
 the necessity of acknowledgment, which is often 
 painful in such minds, he would endeavour to in- 
 VOL. i. o
 
 194 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 rent some motive for his bounty, and hence afford 
 to the receiver the pretensions of a claim, [while 
 the liberal donor appeared to be only discharging 
 a debt. Rarely was any subscription commenced 
 on whose list the name of Fothergill did not stand 
 foremost. When the success of our arms had 
 filled our prisons with foreign captives, he was 
 appointed member of a committee which super- 
 intended the sums raised for their relief; and it 
 should be stated, to the honour of his community, 
 that above one-fourth of the whole subscription 
 was contributed by the Quakers, who then scarcely 
 formed the two-hundredth part of the nation. To 
 Dr. Knight, a literary man, whose character was 
 deservedly esteemed, but who, by some specula- 
 tions in mining, had become embarrassed in cir- 
 cumstancs, he is supposed to have afforded aid to 
 the amount of a thousand pounds. We shall not 
 pause to calculate the total amount of his bounties, 
 which have been estimated at so high a sum as 
 two hundred thousand pounds ; but it is evident, 
 that his generosity knew no ether limit than his 
 means. 
 
 In 1763 he was elected a fellow of the Royal 
 Society. His reputation soon extended to other 
 countries ; he was one of the earliest members of 
 the American Philosophical Society, instituted at 
 Philadelphia. Linnaeus distinguished by his name 
 a species of Polyandria Digynia. The Royal 
 Society of Medicine, at Paris, chose him as an 
 associate in 1776; and his letters of admission 
 were the more honourable, because they included 
 a request, that Fothergill would nominate any per- 
 sons of his acquaintance whom he might deem
 
 FOTI1ERGILL. ] 95 
 
 eligible to become corresponding members of the 
 body. Vicq d'Azyr communicated this mark of 
 confidence in a Latin letter. 
 
 When the House of Commons was informed 
 of the fatality of the gaol distemper, which had ap- 
 peared among the French and Spanish prisoners 
 confined at AYinchester, an application was made 
 to him for his opinion, and he recommended Dr. 
 Carmichael Smith as medical superintendent of 
 the prison. A singular success attended the efforts 
 of that accomplished physician, which reflected 
 honour on both parties. 
 
 Far from confining his investigations to his own 
 profession, or to natural history, his mind em- 
 braced, with great activity, every scheme connected 
 with public improvement. Internal commerce, 
 police, the economy of prisons, all occupied his 
 attention, as the occasions arose for their improve- 
 ment : he directed his thoughts at one time to the 
 establishment of public baths and of public ceme- 
 teries, the latter of which admit, at this moment, of 
 much improvement, and in their present condition, 
 in London, are equally offensive to the eye, as they 
 are probably injurious to the health, of the inhabit- 
 ants. He was very instrumental in establishing 
 an excellent seminary for the children of Quakers 
 not in affluent circumstances, at Ackworth. The 
 disputes between the mother country and the 
 American colonies engrossed him very earnestly : 
 he engaged actively in various attempts to promote 
 concord ; and appears to have been employed, to 
 a certain extent, in political negociation. Frank- 
 lin, with whom he treated on this subject, declare?, 
 that he doubts whether any man has ever existed 
 
 o2
 
 196 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 more worthy than Fothergill of universal vene- 
 ration. 
 
 Perhaps we might have spoken more largely of 
 his literary essays, which were numerous ; in re- 
 cording the generality of men, these would occupy 
 us more fully, hut in the life of Fothergill they 
 form only a secondary consideration. The fame 
 of authorship, and the accomplishments of the 
 man of science, are consumed in the blaze of that 
 exalted virtue which was not contented merely to 
 discharge with indifference the decencies of life, 
 nor even honourably to fulfil its duties, but 
 sought, in every period of its career, to improve 
 the condition of mankind, to befriend the weak, 
 and to feed the hungry, and literally considered 
 the fruits of its own labour as a treasure invested 
 for the benefit of others. 
 
 In December, 1780, he experienced a second 
 attack of suppression of urine ; two years previ- 
 ously it had been relieved, but no art could now 
 remove it. The pain was very acute, his thirst 
 was insatiable, but his mind was as serene as in 
 its best days ; he endeavoured even to assume the 
 cheerfulness which was natural to him when in 
 health. He expressed to a friend his hope " that 
 he had not lived in vain, but in a degree to answer 
 the end of his creation, by sacrificing interested 
 considerations, and his own ease, to the good of 
 his fellow-creatures." In a fortnight he breathed 
 his last. More than seventy carriages followed 
 his remains to the grave, not filled with the care- 
 less attendants on the great, who mourn in order to 
 be visible, but with individuals whom he had con- 
 tributed to render happy.
 
 FOTHERG1LL. 197 
 
 Dr. Ilird has drawn, from affectionate intimacy, 
 a personal sketch of this great man, which our 
 readers will view with the gratification Avhich 
 attends a visit to the private apartment of the 
 illustrious. The person of Dr. Fothergill was of 
 a delicate rather of an extenuated make ; his 
 features were all character; his eye had a pecu- 
 liar brilliancy of expression, yet it was not easy so 
 to mark the leading trait as to disengage it from 
 the united whole. He was remarkably active and 
 alert, and, with a few exceptions, enjoyed a ge- 
 neral good state of health. He had a peculiarity 
 of address and manner, resulting from person, 
 education, and principle ; but it was so perfectly 
 accompanied by the most engaging attentions, that 
 he was the genuine polite man, above all forms of 
 breeding. At his meals he was remarkably tem- 
 perate ; in the opinion of some, rather too abste- 
 mious, eating sparingly, but with a good relish, 
 and rarely exceeding two glasses of wine at dinner 
 or supper: yet, by this uniform and steady tem- 
 perance,^ he preserved his mind vigorous and 
 active, and his constitution equal to all his en- 
 gagements. 
 
 Not satisfied with the acts of generosity which 
 he had multiplied during his lifetime, he directed 
 in his will that the presents which had been made 
 to him should be restored to their donors.
 
 198 
 
 HEBERDEN. 
 
 IT is impossible to view the countenance of this 
 excellent man, as delineated in his portraits, with- 
 out an immediate respect, and even affection, to- 
 wards his memory. The tranquillity of mind, the 
 gentle benevolence, and the unaffected modesty 
 which beam on every feature, represent with truth 
 the amiable and unblemished ornament of the 
 domestic circle ; while the air of discernment and 
 reflection which pervades the whole, announces 
 with equal justice the genius for observation, and 
 the power of combining its results. The life of 
 such an individual, pursued into its minuter de- 
 tails, would have been equally interesting to the 
 world at large, and instructive to the student of his 
 own profession. Unfortunately, few materials 
 exist to render due account of an individual who, 
 after being placed in collision with the vices and 
 follies of a metropolis during nearly half a century, 
 appears to have retired to the grave without hav- 
 ing contracted on his way a single particle of cor- 
 ruption, rich in the accumulated wisdom of age, 
 and still richer in all the innocence of youth. 
 
 William Heberden was born in London in the 
 year 1710. He was sent at a very early age, near 
 the end of 1724, to St. John's College, Cambridge. 
 He took his first degree in 1728, and became 
 M. D. in 1739. He remained at Cambridge
 
 IIEUERDEN. 199 
 
 about ten years longer as a practitioner of physic, 
 and gave an annual course of lectures on the Ma- 
 teria Medica. In 1746 he became a fellow of the 
 Royal College of Physicians in London, and two 
 years afterwards he left Cambridge, having pre- 
 sented to St. John's College the specimens which 
 had been employed in his lectures. He also 
 added to this donation, a few years afterwards, a 
 collection of astronomical instruments of some 
 value. He now established himself in London, 
 was elected a fellow of the Royal Society in J 769, 
 and was employed in a very extensive medical 
 practice during more than thirty years. When he 
 became sensible that his age required indulgence, 
 he passed the summer at a house which he had pur- 
 chased at Windsor ; but he continued his practice 
 in the winter for some years longer. In January, 
 1760, he married Mary, daughter of W. Wool- 
 laston, Esq., by whom he had five sons and three 
 daughters ; but he survived them all, except the 
 present Dr. William Heberden,* and Mary, 
 married to the Rev. G. Jenyns. In 1778 he was 
 made an honorary member of the Royal Society of 
 Medicine at Paris. Dr. Heberden's first publi- 
 cation seems to have been a short essay on the 
 incongruous composition of the Mithridate and 
 Theriaca, entitled Antitheriaca, 8vo. 1 745. 2. He 
 sent to the Royal Society an Account of a rery 
 large human Calculus, weighing more than two 
 pounds and a quarter avoirdupois, Phil. Trans. 
 XLV-I., 1750, p. 596. 3. Account of the effect of 
 Lightning at Southwald in Essex, Ph. Trans. LI V., 
 
 * Well known as the author of very valuable Observations on the 
 Increase and Decrease of different Diseases. 4to. Lond. 1801.
 
 200 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 1764, p. 198. Both these essays are erroneously 
 attributed, in Dr. Maty's index, to his brother, Dr. 
 Thomas Heberden, of Madeira, who sent several 
 other papers to the Society. Dr. Heberden was one 
 of the principal contributors to the first three vo- 
 lumes of the Medical Transactions, a work which 
 was published, in a great measure, at his sugges- 
 tion, by the College of Physicians, and in which 
 we find several of his original communications. 
 4. Remarks on the Pump-water of London, I., 
 1768, p. 1. 5. Observations on Ascarides, pp. 
 45, 54. 6. On Night Blindness, or Nyctalopia, 
 p. 60. 7. On the Chicken-pox, p. 427. 8. On 
 the Epidemical Cold of 1767, p. 437. 9. Queries, 
 p. 499, relating to Bark, Camphor, Cold, the 
 Gout, and Apoplexy. 10. On Hectic Fever, II., 
 1772, p. 1. 11. On the Pulse, p. 18. 12. On a 
 Disorder of the Breast, p. 59 (the Angina Pec- 
 toris). 13. On Diseases of the Liver, p. 123. 
 14. On the Nettle Rash, 173. 15. On Noxious 
 Fungi, p. 216. 16. Queries, p. 449, on Sizy 
 Blood, on Hernia, on Damp Clothes, and on Ve- 
 nesection in Haemorrhages. 17- On an Angina 
 Pectoris, III., 1785, p. 1. 18. On the Ginseng, 
 p. 34. 19. On the Measles, p. 389. 20. Table 
 of the Mean Heat of the different Months in 
 London, Phil. Trans. LXXVIIL, 1778, p. 86. 
 
 The most important of his works, and one which 
 will extend his reputation to a very distant pos- 
 terity, is the Commentarii de Morlorum Historia 
 et Ciuratione. 8vo. Lond. 1802. This very re- 
 markable book appeared both in Latin and English. 
 He had long been in the habit of making notes 
 in a pocket-book at the bedside of his patients ;
 
 HEBERDEN. 201 
 
 and every month he used to select and copy out 
 under the proper titles of the diseases, whatever 
 he thought particularly worthy to be recorded. In 
 the year 1782 he employed himself in digesting 
 this register into the form of a volume of Com- 
 mentaries on the History and Cure of Diseases, 
 with a particular resolution never to depend on his 
 memory for any material circumstance that he did 
 not find expressly written down in his notes. 
 These commentaries were entrusted to the care of 
 his son, Dr. W. Heberden, to be published after 
 his death. We find in them a greater mass of 
 valuable matter, accurately observed and candidly 
 related, than in almost any other volume that has 
 ever appeared upon a medical subject. 
 
 It has been remarked, that the more experience 
 a physician acquires in his profession, the more he 
 is in general inclined to approach to the opinions 
 of Heberden, and the more he is compelled to 
 esteem his writings. 
 
 He possessed a singular combination of modesty 
 and of dignity of character. He was not only a well- 
 informed and accomplished scholar, but a man of 
 the purest integrity of conduct, of mild and cour- 
 teous manners, distinguished by genuine piety and 
 by unaffected benevolence of heart. He bought a 
 sceptical work, left in manuscript by Dr. Conyers 
 Middleton, of his widow, in order to destroy it.* 
 He was at the expense of publishing another work 
 of the same author, on the Servile Condition of 
 Physicians among the Ancients, as well as an edi- 
 
 * Having discovered that a publisher would give 1501. for the 
 work, he presented 2QQI. to the widow, and committed it to the 
 flames.
 
 202 
 
 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 tion of some of the plays of Euripides, by Mark- 
 land. He had an opportunity of rendering an 
 essential service to Dr. Letherland, a man of deep 
 and very extensive learning, but of retired habits, 
 and very little known even in his own profession, 
 although he contributed, by his literary information, 
 to the popularity of more than one of his colleagues. 
 Dr. Heberden's extensive practice made it incon- 
 venient for him to accept the appointment of physi- 
 cian to the queen ; and the king, who had always 
 shown towards him the greatest esteem and regard, 
 readily adopted his disinterested recommendation 
 of Dr. Letherland as his substitute in the situation. 
 He died on the 17th of May, 1801, at the age of 
 above 90 years, having exhibited, at the close of 
 his life, the same serenity of mind which he had 
 enjoyed through its course, and the same earnest 
 faith in the Christian Revelation which had formed 
 alike the rule and the happiness of his existence. 
 
 The most important addition which a superior 
 understanding can, at present, contribute to the 
 stock of medical knowledge, is not so much no- 
 velty as truth. New things have been presented to 
 us, in rapid succession, during many centuries ; 
 and the most urgent want of the science is to 
 establish what is true, and to separate the genuine 
 from the suspicious. There is much force in the fre- 
 quent remark of Cullen, that there are more false 
 facts in medicine than false theories. Heberden 
 perceived this state of things, and has supplied 
 towards its relief all that a single mind could hope 
 to accomplish. He is one of the few medical 
 writers who may deservedly claim the title of 
 eclectic; he had no favourite doctrines to main-
 
 IIEBKRDEX. 203 
 
 tain, no prejudices to gratify, and was solely 
 animated by the desire of recording, with fidelity, 
 that which he had seen and done. So many me- 
 dical authorities have been ambitious of founding a 
 sect ; so many writers have been merely stimulated 
 by the desire of acquiring immediate practice 
 and have discussed with passion the most serious 
 topics, that it is gratifying to be always able to 
 find in the pages of Heberden a scrupulous and 
 unvarnished narrative of the symptoms of disease, 
 and of the effects of remedies, such as they pre- 
 sented themselves to a calm and deliberate intel- 
 lect, during a length, and extent, and variety of 
 opportunity rarely enjoyed by any practitioner of 
 any age or country. 
 
 The impartial Soemmering considered the Com- 
 mentaries of such value, that he has reprinted 
 them, in Germany, with a preface, in which he 
 styles their author the Medicus vere Hippocra- 
 ticus. Professor Friedlaender, of Halle, has 
 published an edition at Leipsic, as a portion of the 
 Latin Medical Classics.
 
 204 
 
 CULLEN. 
 
 WILLIAM CULLEN was born in 1712, in Lanark- 
 shire ; his parents were in humble circumstances. 
 After serving an apprenticeship to a surgeon- 
 apothecary, in Glasgow, he became surgeon to a 
 merchant-vessel, trading between London and the 
 West Indies. He soon, however, returned to his 
 own district, and practised among the rustic inhabi- 
 tants of the parish of Shotts a region proverbial, 
 even in Scotland, for bleakness and poverty. Here 
 an accident occurred, which probably gave a colour 
 to his future fortune. The Duke of Argyle'made a 
 visit to a gentleman in the neighbourhood, and was 
 amusing himself with some chemical investiga- 
 tions which required apparatus not in his posses- 
 sion : his host recollected young Cullen , as a 
 person likely to supply the deficiency ; and Cullen 
 was accordingly invited to dinner, introduced to 
 the duke, and installed in his good opinion. He 
 soon removed to Hamilton, and (as it appears 
 by the register of the town-council of that place) 
 was admitted a counsellor in 1737- During 1739 
 and 1740 he was chief magistrate of the burgh. 
 Here he was a general practitioner, and was sur- 
 rounded by apprentices in his pharmacy. A con- 
 nexion in business was formed between him and 
 another young man, afterwards destined to nearly 
 equal celebrity : William Hunter was a native of 
 the same part of the country, and these kindred
 
 CULLEN. 205 
 
 minds entered into a partnership. Their principal 
 ambition, at this time, was to procure the means 
 of improving their medical education and grade ; 
 and in order, mutually, to further this honourable 
 object, it was stipulated, that one of them should 
 be alternately allowed to study, during the winter, 
 in some medical school, while the other should 
 continue to carry on the business in the country, 
 for the profit of both parties. Cullen took the first 
 turn, and passed his winter at Edinburgh. William 
 Hunter chose London for his place of study, when 
 his season arrived, and the selection was propitious 
 to his future progress, since he soon recommended 
 himself, in that metropolis, to Dr. Douglas, a lec- 
 turer on anatomy and obstetrics, who engaged him 
 as an assistant. Thus ensued a premature dissolu- 
 tion of partnership : Cullen was not the man Avho 
 could throw obstacles in the road to his friend's 
 advancement; he readily cancelled the articles, and 
 they maintained ever after a cordial communication 
 by letters, although the accidents of life seem never 
 more to have granted them a personal interview. 
 How full of interest would such a meeting, in after 
 life, have proved to two such individuals, who had 
 parted in poverty and obscurity, and who would 
 have greeted each other again at the head of their 
 respective professions, and in the meridian of for- 
 tune and of fame. 
 
 During this period of country practice, Cullen 
 formed a union of a more permanent nature, 
 which, happily for him, was not dissolved until 
 very late in his life. Early in his career he had 
 formed a strong attachment to Miss Johnston, the 
 amiable daughter of a neighbouring clergyman.
 
 206 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 This lady was a real prize to him ; she possessed 
 beauty, good sense and temper, an amiable dispo- 
 sition, elegant manners, and even a little fortune, 
 which, however diminutive in modern calculation, 
 was important in his actual position. She married 
 him when he had no worldly advantages to recom- 
 mend his suit, presented him with a numerous 
 family, and enjoyed the gratification of sharing 
 his dignified prosperity until 1786, when she 
 peacefully expired. 
 
 The Duke of Hamilton being taken suddenly 
 ill at the palace which bears the same name, was 
 induced, by the character which he had heard of 
 Cullen, to apply for his aid. Cullen not only be- 
 nefited him by his skill, but attracted him by his 
 conversation. To profit by the accidents, which 
 common men neglect, is the true secret of success. 
 The interest of this nobleman appears to have 
 procured him the situation of lecturer on chem- 
 istry in the University of Glasgow. He had pre- 
 viously taken his doctor's degree and began his 
 course, in 1746. Here we perceive the versatility 
 of his powers and his excellent judgment: he 
 eclipsed the former professors, was the idol of his 
 pupils, and for the first time, probably, in his life 
 became an object of envy. His singular talent 
 for arrangement, his distinct enunciation, his 
 vivacity of manners, and thorough acquaintance 
 with his science, rendered his lectures interesting 
 in a degree which appears to have been until then 
 unknown in Glasgow. His medical practice daily 
 increased; and, when a vacancy occurred in 17^1, 
 he was appointed by the king to the professorship 
 of medicine.
 
 CULLEX, 207 
 
 The patrons of the university of Edinburgh 
 were very anxious to strengthen their seminary, 
 and directed their attention to the rising fame of 
 Cullen. Dr. Plummer, tlieir professor of chemistry, 
 soon left a vacancy, which Cullen was invited to 
 fill. He resigned all his employments in Glasgow, 
 and repaired, in 1756, to the city which was to 
 become the scene of his distinction, from which he 
 finally sent forth admiring pupils to all parts of 
 the world, and which he really enriched and bene- 
 fited by the halo which he flung around the me- 
 dical school during his brilliant career. The emi- 
 nence of a university depends, more than is gene- 
 rally imagined, on the attraction of one or two 
 great names, which exert a magnetic influence : 
 no expense can be misplaced by the- governors of 
 a university in drawing such rare individuals to 
 their bosom. Chemistry had been rather neglected 
 at Edinburgh, but Cullen restored it to its rights, 
 and even created a tide in its favour : chemistry 
 now brought a more numerous assemblage to its 
 hall, than any other science, excepting anatomy. 
 Many students spoke of Cullen with a sort of enthu- 
 siasm ; this produced a reaction and an opposition 
 party, which endeavoured to misrepresent his doc- 
 trines. Cullen's reputation only became more clear 
 through this fermentation. He proceeded steadily 
 and tranquilly in the path of instruction, and 
 opened a large field of private practice, which his 
 frank and engaging manners, his kindness and his 
 disinterestedness, enabled him to cultivate with 
 growing success. He became the friend of his 
 patients ; they could neither dispense with his 
 attendance nor with his intimacy.
 
 208 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 While professor of chemistry, he also for seve- 
 ral years delivered clinical lectures at the royal 
 infirmary. Alston, who was professor of Materia 
 Medica, and who has left a large work on that 
 branch of study, died in 1763, and Cullen suc- 
 ceeded him ; and though now in the middle of his 
 chemical course, persevered at the same time with 
 his new topic, and commenced it only a few days 
 after his new nomination. Eight or ten pupils 
 alone had entered under Alston, but Cullen at- 
 tracted above one hundred. An imperfect copy of 
 these hasty lectures was published by one of the 
 hearers, and Cullen thought it necessary, in the 
 latter part of his life, to give them to the public in 
 a more correct and mature form : they accordingly 
 appeared in two quarto volumes, and embraced also 
 the important doctrines of general therapeutics, a 
 part of the theory of medicine which has in the 
 present age incurred unmerited neglect. On the 
 death of Dr. White, Cullen rose another step, 
 and delivered the theory of medicine, ceding his 
 chemical chair to Black, his former pupil. Ruther- 
 ford * next disappeared from the chair of practical 
 medicine : Gregory became a rival candidate Avith 
 Cullen, and it was arranged that these accom- 
 plished competitors should alternately lecture on 
 the theory and on the practice of medicine. Their 
 talents were of a dissimilar kind, and the students 
 amply profited by the variety and emulation exhi- 
 bited without any injury to friendship. After co- 
 operating most happily for the benefit of all parties, 
 Gregory was suddenly cut off in the prime of life, 
 and Cullen continued to occupy the practical pro- 
 
 * Grandfather to Sir Walter Scott.
 
 CULLEN. 209 
 
 fessorship until a few months before his death, 
 which spared him to his seventy-seventh year, in 
 1790. To the last he was great, but that ardour 
 and energy which had strongly characterized him 
 at a former period, gradually declined ; his viva- 
 city was, however, still such as might in general 
 belong to an individual in the mid-day of exist- 
 ence. Some have perceived traces of senility in 
 his treatise on the Materia Medica, but Cullen 
 even then retained powers which many would 
 gladly acknowledge as their own in their brightest 
 days. 
 
 His appearance was striking, and not unpleas- 
 ing; his countenance was expressive, his eye 
 lively and penetrating. His person was tall and 
 thin ; to the stranger who passed him he appeared 
 a contemplative man. In his lectures he never 
 attempted to read ; they were delivered almost ex- 
 temporaneously, and the same plan seems to have 
 been followed by Monro and Black. Of all the 
 Edinburgh professors of that period, the lettered 
 Blair was the only one who could not trust his eye 
 one moment from the manuscript. A few short 
 notes sufficed to preserve a certain order with 
 Cullen, and an ease, a force, and a variety were 
 thus imparted to his matter and his style, which 
 few have rivalled, and still fewer can hope to emu- 
 late under similar circumstances. His particular 
 illustrations were always new, suited to the oc- 
 casions of the moment, and were produced in 
 an artless, bold elocution, which captivated every 
 listener. Alibert bears testimony to the impression 
 which he created on the foreign students, who 
 flocked unprejudiced volunteers to his standard, 
 
 VOL. i. p
 
 210' BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 and who preserved indelible recollection of his power 
 to convince and to awaken. His arrangement was 
 clear to the dullest capacity. The spirit of his 
 discourse was always in unison with the tone of 
 voice and the expression of countenance inspired 
 by the particular mood which governed him on the 
 day. If he were joyous, all the figures introduced 
 for illustration abounded with mirth and good hu- 
 mour; if he were grave, the objects placed in view 
 were of a more sombre hue, and on a grander scale ; 
 and if he were peevish, (which we may easily 
 believe to have been his least accustomed frame,) 
 a peculiar tone of thought, word, and action, ex- 
 cited a new train of ideas in his auditory. The 
 languor of a nerveless uniformity was never 
 experienced. He did not so much strive to imbue 
 the student with particular details, as to present 
 him with a general view of the whole subject, to 
 show what had been already attained, to point 
 out what remained to be discovered, and to place 
 him on the road which seemed to conduct to a 
 solution of difficulties. A rapid outline was first 
 drawn, in which the whole figure started boldly at 
 once from the canvas, distinct in all its parts, and 
 unmixed with any other object ; presently he be- 
 gan to trace the picture anew, to strengthen the 
 features, to sketch the distance, and to complete 
 the whole in as perfect a manner as the state of his 
 science would permit. 
 
 His conduct towards his pupils was exemplary. 
 With those who appeared diligent he formed an 
 early acquaintance, inviting them to supper in very 
 small parties, and freely discussing with them, at 
 such opportunities, their doubts, their wishes, and
 
 CULLEN. 21 1 
 
 their prospects. With the most assiduous he gra- 
 dually formed an intimacy, which often proved 
 highly beneficial to their private interests. His ex- 
 cellent library was at all times open to their use ; 
 he kept up a correspondence with them on their 
 departure from the university, and was often instru- 
 mental in establishing them in desirable situations. 
 His benevolent mind doubtless often looked back 
 on the struggles of his early days, and sympathy 
 with those who had to encounter similar privations 
 often opened his purse to straitened merit. To seek 
 out the obscure, to invite the humble, was his parti- 
 cular pleasure ; he behaved to such rather as if he 
 courted their society, than as if they could be bet- 
 tered by his patronage. He often found out some 
 polite excuse for refusing to take payment for his 
 lectures, and steadily refused to accept a fee from 
 any student ; a custom which, we believe, has be- 
 come naturalized at Edinburgh from the date of 
 Cullen. 
 
 Hoffman and Baglivi had restored to the solids 
 that direct and essential influence upon the healthy 
 and morbid states of the system which the humoral 
 pathologists had assigned to the fluids. They had 
 endeavoured to demonstrate that the changes which 
 occur in the condition of the fluids are merely the 
 consequences and necessary effects of the changes- 
 which the solids undergo. The operations of life, in 
 short, and all its revolutions, were thus accomplished 
 in the solid parts of the system, which Hoffmann 
 designated, in consonance with his doctrine, as 
 the Solidum Fivens. The Solidists are distin- 
 guished from the old Methodic sect, in acknow- 
 ledging, with Hippocrates, the existence of a vital 
 
 p 2
 
 212 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 principle, the laws of which can be known only 
 from the observation of the phenomena peculiar 
 to living bodies ; and these phenomena themselves, 
 according to the solidists, result from the agency of 
 this principle upon the fibres, among which nature 
 is supposed to have distributed it, for the purpose 
 of animating them all with a certain portion of 
 energy and activity. In this school Cullen ap- 
 pears to have formed himself. He considers the 
 human body as a combination of animated organs, 
 regulated by the laws, not of inanimate matter, but 
 of life, and superintended by an immaterial prin- 
 ciple, acting wisely, but necessarily, for the gene- 
 ral health, correcting deviations, and supplying 
 deficiencies, not from a knowledge and a choice of 
 the means, but through a pre-established relation 
 between the changes produced, and the motions 
 required for the restoration of health. This prin- 
 ciple, in its various ramifications, governed every 
 part of his theory of medicine. The action or the 
 torpor of the extreme arteries chiefly influenced 
 the motions which the living principle regulated. 
 
 From the dictates of Boerhaave no appeal had 
 hitherto been made ; this innovation was, as usual, 
 hailed by the young with admiration, and regarded 
 by the advanced with distrust or dislike. The sys- 
 tem of Cullen is combined with so much judgment 
 that it fills the mind as one whole ; nothing seems 
 wanting, and nothing redundant. He has amply 
 succeeded, at all events, in accomplishing that 
 which he professed to be his principal aim, the 
 improvement of the judgment : this should be the 
 principal aim of every method of teaching ; and 
 w'hen the judgment is once matured, the student
 
 CULLEN. 213 
 
 may be safely allowed to pursue alone the eclectic 
 path, unfettered by any of those exclusive and 
 domineering guides, who literally represent the 
 blind conducting the blind. Cullen was in the 
 habit of repeating, " there must l>e a tub to amuse 
 the whale" and the history of medicine, in every 
 age and country, amply confirms his application of 
 the adage. His doctrine, modified by Brown and 
 Pinel, has made the tour of Europe, but few of his 
 imitators or detractors have imitated the sagacity 
 which he displayed in searching out the indications 
 of cure, and the enlightened scepticism with which 
 he examined the chaos of materia medica. 
 
 His Physiology was a little work of much merit 
 in reference to the period of its publication ; it was 
 translated into French, German, and Latin. His 
 First Lines of the Practice of Physic appeared 
 in 1784. Pinel and Bosquillon published rival 
 translations at Paris, where the work has been re- 
 edited so recently as 1819. It has also appeared 
 in a German, Italian, and Latin form. His 
 Nosology will probably survive all his other works ; 
 it is indisputably the best system which has yet 
 appeared, and can only be appreciated by a com- 
 parison with its predecessors and its posterity. 
 His Materia Medica, though a bulky work, was 
 speedily transplanted to France, Germany, and 
 Italy. He has also left a tract on the recovery of 
 persons drowned, and seemingly dead. Dr. Thom- 
 son, of Edinburgh, has recently combined with 
 the previously printed works of Cullen, several 
 valuable additions from his manuscripts. A valu- 
 able edition of the First Lines has lately appeared 
 at Edinburgh, to which Dr. *William Cullen (a
 
 214 BRITISH PnVSICIANS. 
 
 relation of the author) and Dr. J. C. Gregory hare 
 added, in the form of an appendix, such notes 
 and illustrations as may afford to students an idea 
 of the additions made to the science of medicine 
 since the period of the original publication. 
 
 Intimately connected with the memory of Cullen 
 is the history of the system of Brown, which 
 acquired a more rapid popularity than any which 
 has been yet propounded, and which, in some parts 
 of Europe, is scarcely yet extinct. This unfor- 
 tunate man of genius was originally a teacher of 
 Latin at Edinburgh, and a translator of theses 
 into that language. About the middle of life he 
 obtained permission to attend the medical classes 
 gratuitously, and thus commenced the study of 
 the profession with a mind previously tinged with 
 the technical language of the science. He in- 
 structed the children of Cullen in Latin, and an 
 intimacy arose between them. Brown attached 
 himself warmly to Cullen and to his doctrines ; he 
 even looked forward to the prospect of obtaining 
 a future maintenance in London by repeating 
 Cullen's lectures after his death. Some disagree- 
 ment occurred ; Brown was a man of impetuous 
 character, and of imprudent habits, and he imme- 
 diately became the virulent antagonist of his 
 patron. If Cullen had never taught, the system 
 of Brown would have never been moulded, and 
 Cullen was wounded by some of the arrows which 
 he had himself pointed. Brown appears to have 
 had no acquaintance with the bedside of the sick, 
 and his medical erudition was very limited. He 
 commenced a course of opposition lectures, which
 
 CULLE.V. 215 
 
 he continued through various difficulties, and under 
 singular circumstances, which we should feel no 
 pleasure in detailing. The doctrines of Cullen had 
 previously triumphed over Boerhaave at the Me- 
 dical Society of Edinburgh, but they now received 
 a shock from the new pretender, who found many 
 youthful admirers at home, and abroad an army 
 of partisans. The simplicity and plausibility of 
 his theory were very attractive ; and the ease with 
 which it was learned and practised flattered the 
 indolent and the routinist. In these respects it re- 
 sembled the progress of the views which Broussais 
 has been lately disseminating in France with 
 nearly equal success. To understand and to prac- 
 tise both required little previous knowledge of any 
 subject ; a single lecture unfolds both. Brown 
 divided all diseases into two groups, or families : 
 the one was sthenic, the other asthenic ; the 
 former was produced by accumulated excitability, 
 and Avas characterized by direct debility ; the latter 
 was induced by exhausted excitability, and was 
 characterized by indirect debility. His thera- 
 peutics was as simple as his nosology; the stbenic 
 diseases are to be cured by bleeding, purging, and 
 a low diet, while the asthenic ailments demand 
 stimulating substances of various quality and force. 
 The ramifications and dependencies of medical 
 theories are most curious to trace. Cullen seems 
 to have built his structure on the foundation which 
 Hoffmann and others had laid ; Brown availed 
 himself of the nervous energy of Cullen, and con- 
 verted it into excitability ; Darwin, in some parts 
 of his Zoonomia, uses nearly the language of 
 Brown, although his practice is distinct ; and the
 
 216 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 contra- stimulant school has recently arisen in 
 Italy composed from the ruins of Brown, by the 
 labour of Rasori and Tommasini. But that which 
 is solid in medicine never excites enthusiasm on 
 its first announcement, and some of the warmest 
 admirers of Brunonianism have survived to recant 
 their allegiance.
 
 217 
 
 HUNTER (WILLIAM). 
 
 THE general employment of male practitioners in 
 the treatment of pregnancy appears to have been 
 accompanied, in our own country at least, by a 
 diminution in the mortality of women at that 
 most important crisis, and is hence a subject of 
 congratulation. It is not that females are unfit 
 for the task, but that they are not in the habit, 
 with us, of receiving a professional education 
 suitable to overcome the difficulties which occa- 
 sionally present themselves; and that ignorance 
 and prejudice are far more dangerous than a total 
 abandonment to nature. In some countries, on 
 the other hand, the midwife is excellently trained 
 in her art ; at Vienna, at Florence, at Paris, and in 
 some other cities, the most ample opportunities are 
 afforded for her instruction ; and few accoucheurs 
 will probably be more successful than midwives so 
 well initiated as Madame Boivin, and others of 
 her description. 
 
 Astruc could find no earlier instance of the use 
 of men-midwives than at the confinement of Ma- 
 dame de la Yaliere in 1663. She was anxious for 
 concealment, and called in Julian Clement, an 
 eminent surgeon of the time. He was secretly 
 conducted into the house, where she lay covering 
 her face with a hood, and where the king is said 
 to have been hidden behind the curtains. He
 
 218 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 attended her subsequent labours, and his success 
 brought this new profession into vogue, and 
 the fashion was gradually transplanted into other 
 countries. 
 
 Mawbray seems to have been the first teacher 
 of obstetrics in London. He was lecturing in 
 1725, and established a lying-in hospital, to which 
 students were admitted. The Chamberlains fol- 
 lowed him a family which professed to possess a 
 better method of treating difficult labours than was 
 known to others, and maintained a sort of mys- 
 tery as to their instruments. This pretension was 
 imitated by others. Smellie gave a new dignity 
 to the subject by his talents and his lessons ; al- 
 though he is accused by a rival of advertising to 
 teach the whole science in four lectures, and of 
 hanging out a paper lantern, inscribed with the 
 economical invitation, "Midwifery is taught here 
 for Jive shiUingg." 
 
 William Hunter was born on the 23d of May, 
 1718, at Kilbride, in the county of Lanark. He 
 was the seventh of the ten children of John and 
 Agnes Hunter, who resided on a small estate in 
 the above parish, called Long Calderwood, which 
 had been long in the possession of the family. 
 The youngest of the family was John, afterwards 
 so celebrated as a surgeon and physiologist. One 
 of the sisters married Dr. Baillie, the professor of 
 divinity in the University of Glasgow, and became 
 the mother of the eminent physician whom we 
 shall afterwards have occasion to record. 
 
 William Hunter was sent to study at Glasgow 
 at the age of fourteen, and remained there five 
 years, with the reputation of prudence and of good
 
 WILLIAM HUNTER. 219 
 
 scholarship. He was at this time designed for the 
 church ; but some objections arose, and while 
 uncertain, he encountered Cullen, who was then 
 established in practice at Hamilton. An intimacy 
 was established ; Hunter resolved to embrace the 
 profession of his friend, and resided in the family 
 of Cullen nearly three years years which he has 
 often been heard to call the happiest of his life. 
 But the memory has power to scatter a sunshine 
 over past moments, which did not illumine them 
 when actually present : even the gloomy periods 
 of our existence are sometimes reproduced by re- 
 collection in an attractive form. Medical men 
 often sacrifice a portion of happiness in the pursuit 
 of very extensive practice ; and, when thus swal- 
 lowed up in a vortex which impedes almost every 
 other pleasure except that of seeing money accu- 
 mulate, it is very natural for them to look back 
 with fondness and regret on the obscurer days in 
 which they could find leisure to enjoy existence. 
 
 Allusion has been made, in the Life of Cullen, 
 to the honourable terms on which a partnership 
 was formed between these two gifted individuals, 
 and to the manner in which it was dissolved. 
 Hunter went to Edinburgh in 1740, and remained 
 until the ensuing spring in attendance on the prin- 
 cipal lectures delivered there. The summer of 
 1741 brought him to London, where he com- 
 menced his residence under the roof of the eminent 
 Smellie, at that time an apothecary in Pall Mall. 
 He studied anatomy, and dissected under the su- 
 perintendence of Dr. Frank Nicholls, who was the 
 most eminent teacher of anatomy in London at 
 that time, and who had formerly professed the
 
 220 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 science at Oxford. Hunter had brought a letter 
 of introduction to Dr. Douglas, from the printer 
 Foulis, of Glasgow ; this physician was then intent 
 on an anatomical work, which he did not live to 
 complete ; and was looking out for a young man 
 of abilities and industry whom he might employ 
 as a dissector. This circumstance fixed his atten- 
 tion on Hunter, and finally induced him to invite 
 the young stranger into his family, for the double 
 purpose of assisting in dissections, and of direct- 
 ing the education of his son. At this time he was 
 also a surgical pupil at St. George's Hospital. 
 Douglas died in 1742, but Hunter still continued 
 to reside with his family. 
 
 An essay On the Structure and Diseases of 
 Articulating Cartilages appears to have been the 
 first production of his pen ; it was communicated 
 to the Royal Society in 1743. To teach anatomy 
 was now his favourite plan, but he did not engage 
 prematurely nor rashly in that undertaking; he 
 passed some years more in the silent acquisition 
 of the necessary knowledge, and in the careful 
 formation of a collection of preparations which 
 might assist his lectures. A promising opportunity 
 at length occurred for the exercise of his talents. 
 A society of naval surgeons had engaged Mr. 
 Samuel Sharpe to deliver some courses of instruc- 
 tion on the operations of surgery : that gentleman 
 at length declined the task, and William Hunter 
 stepped into his place. He afforded so much satis- 
 faction, that his hearers soon requested him to 
 extend his lessons to anatomy. 
 
 His first anatomical course was attempted in 
 1746. He experienced much anxiety and doubt
 
 WILLIAM HUNTER. 221 
 
 at the outset, but applause gradually inspired him 
 with confidence, and he at length found the princi- 
 pal happiness of life to consist in the delivery of a 
 lecture. Mr. Watson, one of his earliest pupils, 
 accompanied him home after the trying moment of 
 his introductory discourse. Hunter had just re- 
 ceived seventy guineas from admission-fees, which 
 he carried in a bag under his cloak, and observed 
 to his friend, that it was a larger sum than he had 
 ever before possessed. The early difficulties of 
 eminent men form perhaps the most instructive 
 and animating portion of their biography. Lin- 
 nasus records of himself, Exivi patria trlginti 
 sex nummis aureis dives. The profits of his two 
 first courses were considerable ; but, by contribut- 
 ing to relieve the wants of some of his friends, he 
 found himself, on the approach of the third season, 
 under the necessity of deferring his lectures for a 
 fortnight, merely from the want of money to sup- 
 ply the expense of the usual advertisements. This 
 unpleasant embarrassment operated as a check 
 upon him in the use of money, and probably 
 formed one remote source of the large fortune 
 which he afterwards accumulated. In 1747 he 
 was admitted a member of the Corporation of 
 Surgeons ; and, in the spring of the following year, 
 accompanied his pupil, James Douglas, on a tour 
 through Holland to Paris. At Leyden he visited 
 Albinus, whose admirable injections (as he after- 
 wards informed Dr. Cullen) inspired him with a 
 strong emulation to excel in that curious depart- 
 ment of anatomy. His lectures were not inter- 
 rupted by this journey, which was completed 
 before the winter.
 
 222 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 In the early part of his career he practised both 
 surgery and obstetrics ; but he had always felt an 
 aversion towards the former, and gradually con- 
 fined himself to the latter pursuit. Dr. Douglas, 
 his patron, had acquired reputation in this branch, 
 and Hunter was also successively elected one of 
 the accoucheurs to the Middlesex Hospital (1748), 
 and to the British Lying-in Hospital (174^). 
 Some other favourable circumstances combined to 
 fix him. Smellie, although a man of merit, was 
 uupleasing in his exterior and manners, and was 
 unable to make his way amongst the refined or 
 fastidious. The abilities of Hunter at least equalled 
 those of Smellie, and his person and deportment 
 gave him a decided advantage. Sir Richard Man- 
 ningham, one of the most eminent accoucheurs 
 of the time, died about this period ; and Dr. Sandys, 
 who divided with him the fashion of the day, re- 
 tired into the country a few years after the com- 
 mencement of Hunter's reputation. Sandys had 
 been formerly professor of anatomy at Cambridge ; 
 he was a most assiduous cultivator of that science, 
 and formed a large collection of preparations illus- 
 trative of it ; after his death it fell into the hands 
 of Mr. Bromfield, and was finally sold to Dr. 
 Hunter for two hundred pounds. 
 
 In 1750 Hunter obtained the degree of Doctor 
 of Medicine from the University of Glasgow, and 
 about the same time quitted the roof of the 
 Douglas family to reside in Jermyn Street. In 1756 
 he became a licentiate of the College of Physi- 
 cians. When the queen became pregnant in J 762, 
 his advice was solicited ; and he was, two years 
 afterwards, appointed physician extraordinary to
 
 WILLIAM HUNTER. 223 
 
 her Majesty. His avocations now multiplied 
 themselves so rapidly, that he was obliged to seek 
 an assistant for his lectures ; and, having noticed 
 the ingenuity and industry of William Hewson, 
 he selected him for that office, and subsequently 
 made him a partner in his lectures. This con- 
 nexion subsisted until 1770? when a separation 
 was occasioned by some disputes, and Cruikshank 
 succeeded to the honourable situation. In 1 767, 
 Hunter became a Fellow of the Royal Society : 
 and in 1768, he received an appointment on which 
 he conferred celebrity by the zeal with which he 
 discharged it the professorship of anatomy in 
 the Royal Academy of Arts, which had been re- 
 cently founded by George III. He adapted his 
 anatomical knowledge to the objects of painting 
 and sculpture with remarkable tact; and the origin- 
 ality and justness of his observations in this entirely 
 new career evinced the promptitude and versatility 
 of his talents. On the death of Fothergill he was 
 unanimously elected to preside over the Medical 
 Society. In 1780 the Royal Medical Society of 
 Paris created him one of their foreign associates ; 
 and he soon afterwards obtained a similar distinc- 
 tion from the Royal Academy of Sciences of that 
 city. 
 
 The Anatomy of the Human Gravid Uterus 
 appeared in 1775 a work distinguished alike by 
 the splendor and the correctness of its deli- 
 neations. Ten of the thirty-four plates which it 
 contains had been completed so early as 1751 ; but 
 the publication was retarded by the anxiety of the 
 author to render his work as perfect as his oppor- 
 tunities would permit. In the preface he candidly
 
 224 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 acknowledges that, in most of the dissections, he 
 had been assisted by his brother, John Hunter. 
 In this work were first delineated the retroversion 
 of the uterus and the membrana decidua reflexa, 
 for the discovery of which we are indebted to the 
 subject of our memoir. The famous engraver, 
 Strange, was an intimate friend of the author, 
 and did two of the plates ; some of the other 
 engravings are also remarkable for elegance of 
 execution. Hunter did not live to publish a work 
 designed to illustrate the engravings, and de- 
 scriptive of the anatomy, of the gravid uterus ; 
 but he left very ample collections towards it, 
 which were edited from his manuscripts, in 1795, 
 by Dr. Baillie, in the form of a thin volume in 
 quarto. Two Introductory Lectures to his Course 
 of Anatomy were also published, from the papers 
 found at his death. 
 
 He had been employed for some time in col- 
 lecting materials for another important work on 
 the history of the various concretions which are 
 formed in the human body : the portion relative to 
 urinary and biliary concretions appears to have 
 been almost completed. Many beautiful engrav- 
 ings, intended to accompany this book, were 
 finished at the time of his decease. 
 
 About ten years before his end his health was 
 so much impaired, that, fearing' he might soon 
 become unfit for the profession which he loved, he 
 proposed to recruit himself by a residence in Scot- 
 land, and was on the eve of purchasing a consi- 
 derable estate, when the project was frustrated by 
 a defect in the title-deeds. This trifle banished 
 his rural plans, and he remained in London, con-
 
 WILLIAM HUNTER. 
 
 225 
 
 tinually declining in health, but pursuing distinc- 
 tion with the same ardour with which he had 
 courted it in his earlier days. He rose from a bed 
 of sickness to deliver an introductory lecture on 
 the operations of surgery, in opposition to the 
 earnest remonstrances of his friends. The lecture 
 was accordingly delivered, but it was his last; 
 towards the conclusion his strength was so much 
 exhausted, that he fainted away, and was finally 
 replaced in the chamber which he had been so eager 
 to quit. In a few days he was. no more. Turning 
 to his friend Combe, in his latter moments, he 
 observed, " If I had strength enough to hold a 
 pen, I would write how easy and pleasant a thing 
 it is to die." He expired on the 30th of March, 
 1783: his brother John occasionally introduced 
 the catheter in this last paralytic seizure. 
 
 When he began to practise obstetrics, Hunter's 
 ambition was fixed on the acquisition of a fortune 
 sufficient to place him in easy and independent 
 circumstances. Before many years had elapsed, 
 he found himself in possession of a sum adequate 
 to his wishes in this respect ; and this he set apart 
 as a resource of which he might avail himself, 
 whenever age or infirmities should oblige him to 
 retire from business. He confessed to a friend, that 
 he once took a considerable sum from this fund 
 for the purposes of his museum, but that he did 
 not feel himself perfectly at ease till he had re- 
 stored it again. 
 
 After he had obtained this competency, as his 
 wealth continued to accumulate, hje formed a re- 
 markable and praiseworthy design of engaging 
 in some scheme of public utility, and at first 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 226 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 had it in contemplation to found an anatomical 
 school in this metropolis. For this purpose, 
 about the year 17t>5, during the government of 
 Mr. Grenville, he presented a memorial to that 
 minister, in which he requested the .grant of a 
 piece of ground in the Mews, for the, site of an 
 anatomical theatre. Dr. Hunter undertook to 
 expend seven thousand pounds on the building, 
 and to endow a professorship of anatomy in per- 
 petuity. This scheme did not meet with the recep- 
 tion which it deserved. In a conversation on this 
 subject, soon afterwards, held with the Earl of 
 Shelburue, his Lordship expressed a wish that the 
 plan might be carried into execution by subscrip- 
 tion, and very generously requested to accompany 
 his name with a thousand guineas. Dr. Hunter's 
 delicacy would not allow him to adopt this pro- 
 posal. He chose rather to execute the plan at his 
 own expense, and accordingly purchased a spot of 
 ground in Great Windmill-street, where he erected 
 a spacious house, to which lie removed, from 
 Jermyn-street, in 1770. 
 
 In this building, besides a handsome amphi- 
 theatre, and other convenient apartments for his 
 lectures and dissections, one magnificent room 
 was, fitted up with great elegance and propriety as 
 a museum. 
 
 Of the magnitude and value of his collection 
 some idea may be formed, when we consider the 
 great length of years which he employed in making 
 anatomical preparations, and in the dissection of 
 morbid bodies, added to the eagerness with which 
 he procured additions from the museums of 
 Sandys, Falconar, Blackall, and others, which
 
 WILLIAM HUNTER. 227 
 
 were, at different times, offered for sale in the 
 metropolis. Friends and pupils were constantly 
 augmenting his store with new specimens. 
 
 On removing to Windmill-street, he began to 
 extend his views to the embellishment of his col- 
 lection, by a magnificent library of Greek and Latin 
 Classics; and formed also a very rare cabinet of 
 ancient medals, which was, at the time, considered 
 as only inferior to that belonging to the King of 
 France.* The coins alone had been purchased 
 at an expense of twenty thousand pounds. Mine- 
 rals, shells, and other objects of natural history, 
 were gradually added to this museum, which be- 
 came an object of curiosity throughout Europe. 
 It now enriches the University of Glasgow ; and 
 the liberal owner bequeathed to that body 8000/. 
 as a fund for the support and augmentation of the 
 whole. 
 
 William Hunter contributed several Essays to 
 the Philosophical Transactions, and to the Medical 
 Observations and Inquiries, published by the Me- 
 dical Society of London. In one of these, he had 
 the merit of first describing the varicose aneurism. 
 In his work, entitled Medical Commentaries, we 
 find him warmly engaged in controversy, and prin- 
 cipally in a dispute with the eminent Monro, of 
 Edinburgh, respecting his claims to certain disco- 
 veries particularly the origin and use of the lym- 
 phatic vessels. The eagerness of the contending 
 parties in this discussion was very natural, when 
 
 Nummorum veterum populorum et urbium qui in Museo 
 Gulielmi Hunter asservantur descriptio figuris illustrate. Opera, 
 et studio Caroli Combe. Lond. 1783.
 
 228 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 the interest and honour of the discovery are consi- 
 dered. The title of William Hunter is now gene- 
 rally conceded. It is chiefly to his exertions, and 
 to those of his pupils, Hewson, Shelden, and 
 Cruikshank, combined with those of Mascagni, in 
 Italy, that we are indented for the complete ex- 
 amination and history of that system of vessels. 
 Blumenbach awards this palm to William Hunter, 
 and few will be disposed to contest his decisions 
 on such subjects. 
 
 William Hunter was regularly shaped, but his 
 frame was slender, and he was rather below the 
 middle stature. He was an early riser ; and when 
 his professional visits were finished, was constantly 
 to be found in his anatomical rooms, or in his 
 museum. In making inquiries of his patients, he 
 had an appearance of attention, which seldom 
 failed to conciliate their confidence. He was dim- 
 dent and candid in consultation with his brethren ; 
 in familiar conversation he was cheerful and un- 
 assuming. In his lectures he was celebrated for 
 the variety and appositeness of the anecdotes with 
 which he enlivened or illustrated the theme : men 
 of the world, artists, and persons of every taste, 
 listened to him with gratification. As an ac- 
 coucheur, he is allowed to have done much to 
 introduce the moderation and caution which now 
 prevail, amongst intelligent practitioners, in the 
 use of instruments : " I am clearly of opinion," 
 says he, in one of his latest publications,* " from 
 all the information which I have been able to pro- 
 
 * Reflections relative to the Operation of Cutting the Symphysis 
 of the Ossa Pubis.
 
 WILLIAM HUNTER. 229 
 
 cure, that the forceps (midwifery instruments in 
 
 feneral, I fear), upon the whole, has done more 
 arm than good." 
 
 William Hunter sacrificed nothing to pomp : 
 he was indifferent to common objects of vanity 
 but having no family which might inherit the fruits 
 of his toil, he nobly resolved to bequeath them 
 to the public, in a durable and beneficial form. 
 He was not a man of ardent temperament he 
 had in him little of the fire of genius, but he was 
 highly useful in his generation ; and he is one of 
 many proofs of the eminence and importance 
 to which a good understanding, a ready percep- 
 tion, and a retentive memory, may conduct the 
 man who commences life with very few other pos- 
 sessions. 
 
 When he invited his younger friends to his 
 table, they were seldom regaled with more than 
 two dishes ; when alone, he rarely sat down to more 
 than one : he would say, " A man mho cannot 
 dine on this deserves to have no dinner." After 
 the meal, his servant (who was also the attendant 
 on the anatomical theatre) used to hand round a 
 single glass of wine to each of his guests. These 
 trifles are mentioned as a trait of the old manner 
 of professional life, and as a feature of the man 
 who devoted seventy thousand pounds to create a 
 museum for the benefit of posterity.
 
 230 
 
 WARREN. 
 
 RICHARD WARREN was born on the thirteenth of 
 December, 1731, at Cavendish, in Suffolk, of 
 which place his father, Dr. Richard Warren^ Arch- 
 deacon of Suffolk, was the rector. This divine 
 was conspicuous in his time ; be was one of the 
 antagonists of Bishop Hoadly in the controversy 
 respecting the Eucharist, and edited the Greek 
 Commentary of Hierocles upon the Golden Verses 
 of Pythagoras. Our physician was the third of 
 bis sons : his early education was obtained at the 
 public school of Bury St. Edmund's, In 1748, 
 after the death of his father, he was transferred to 
 Jesus College, Cambridge. "Warren was one of 
 those rare characters, which distinguish them- 
 selves equally during the period of education and 
 in the more trying scenes of mature life. At this 
 moment his means of support were scanty, and the 
 prejudices which then prevailed among certain 
 leading members of the university were not calcu- 
 lated to encourage or smooth the progress of the 
 son of an able Tory. These distinctions of party 
 have now happily disappeared from our univer- 
 sities. Young Warren overcame every difficulty 
 of his position ; his name is the fourth on the 
 list of wranglers in the year of his degree. He 
 obtained two prizes for Latin prose composition 
 in two successive years. On obtaining a fellow- 
 ship of his college, the church was probably sug-
 
 WARREN. 231 
 
 gested to him as a profession ; his inclination, 
 rather than his finances, directed him to legal 
 pursuits, but one of the little incidents of the place 
 decided his doubts, and started him on a road in 
 which few have enjoyed a more prosperous journey. 
 Dr. Peter Shaw was at this time an eminent 
 physician in London. He was one of the medical 
 attendants upon George the Second, and generally 
 accompanied that sovereign on his excursions to 
 Hanover : to posterity he is better known as the 
 editor of the works of Bacon and of Boyle, and 
 as the author of several publications on medicine 
 and on chemistry. He placed his son at Jesus 
 College, under the care of Warren. The talents of 
 the tutor were not lost upon the father, who 
 finally took a warm interest in his pursuits, in- 
 duced him to commence the study of medicine, and 
 gave him the hand of his daughter Elizabeth, in 
 1759. His career was equally brilliant and rapid, 
 but his own disposition and attainments were a 
 main ingredient in his success : a hundred indi- 
 viduals might have touched at the same port, and 
 would have remained wind-bound for life : but 
 Warren combined nearly all the qualities which 
 form not merely the popular, but the great phy- 
 sician. The expression of his countenance was at 
 once amiable and acute, his deportment was po- 
 lished and kind, his knowledge was various, his 
 comprehension was remarkably clear and quick, 
 and unfolded itself to the listener in a prompt, 
 accurate, and lively strain, and in language the 
 most fortunately chosen. In 1762 he took his 
 degree of Doctor of Medicine, which requires a 
 much longer term in the English universities than
 
 232 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 elsewhere ; and in the same year was created phy- 
 sician to George the Third, on the resignation of 
 his father-in-law. We are not to suppose that 
 Warren marched straight to his goal without any 
 extraneous aids, but the aids which he obtained 
 were attracted by the excellence of his character. 
 Shaw had introduced him to many valuable friends. 
 Sir Edward Wilmot, the worthy son-in-law of 
 Mead, was one of the physicians to the court, and 
 being inclined to retire from the fatigues of busi- 
 ness, he had previously recommended Warren as 
 physician to the Princess Amelia, the daughter 
 of George the Second. This elevated patient re- 
 quired more than ordinary attention : she was 
 subject to sudden seizures which gave rise to 
 alarm. During two summers the princess visited 
 Tunbridge Wells under his care. In 1787 he 
 was appointed physician to the Prince of Wales. 
 
 Warren was one of the earliest physicians to 
 the Middlesex Hospital : after remaining a short 
 time in that situation, he was elected to fill the 
 same office at St. George's Hospital, and held it 
 during several years. 
 
 His eminence is not to be ascribed to mere pa- 
 tronage, nor to singularity of doctrine, nor to the 
 arts of a showy address, nor to any capricious re- 
 volution of fortune's wheel : it was the just and 
 natural attainment of great talents. These talents, 
 indeed, cannot be subjected to the scrutiny of lite- 
 rary criticism, because he was too early engrossed 
 by pressing occupations to find leisure sufficient to 
 commit many of his observations to paper, but 
 the accuracy of his prognosis and his fine sagacity 
 survive in the recollection of a few. His ready
 
 WARREN. 233 
 
 memory presented to him, on every emergency, 
 the extensive stores of hisj^knowledge, and that 
 solidity of judgment, which regulated their appli- 
 cation to the case before him, would have equally 
 enabled him to outstrip competition in any depart- 
 ment of science and art. He was one among the 
 first of his professional brethren who departed 
 from the formalities which had long rendered me- 
 dicine a favourite theme of ridicule with the wits 
 who happened to enjoy health. He was one of 
 the feAV great characters of his time, whose popu- 
 larity was not the fruit of party favour ; without any 
 sacrifice of independence, he gained the suffrages 
 of men of every class, as well as the more difficult 
 applause of his own fraternity. He enjoyed the 
 friendship of many distinguished men, and among 
 others, of Lord North ; his conversation, indeed, 
 was peculiarly fitted to conciliate every variety of 
 age and of temperament. The cheerfulness of his 
 own nature, and the power which he possessed of 
 infusing it into others, enabled him to exercise 
 over his patients an authority very beneficial to 
 themselves ; and in this respect, as in some others, 
 he has left an instructive example to future pro- 
 fessors of medicine, who perhaps do not always 
 sufficiently seek to inspire the objects of their care 
 with a train of animating thoughts. The chamber 
 of the sick is no enlivening scene to those who 
 enter it, but cheerfulness of manner is not the less 
 agreeable to the sick, because repugnant to the 
 feelings of the attendant ; it is one of the surest 
 modes of acquiring the confidence of a patient, 
 and in some cases operates as a restorative of no 
 mean efficacy.
 
 234 BIUTISII PHYSICIANS. 
 
 Warren arrived early at the highest practice in 
 this great metropolis, and maintained his supre- 
 macy to the last, with unfading faculties. The 
 amount of revenue sometimes enters into the 
 computation of a medical character, and such 
 anecdotes, perhaps, form a link in the domestic 
 history of the profession. He is said to have 
 realized nine thousand a year, from the time of 
 the regency ; and to have bequeathed to his family 
 above one hundred and fifty thousand pounds. 
 He died, at his house in Dover-street, on the 22d 
 of June, 1797 : his disease was erysipelas of the 
 head, which destroyed him in his sixty-sixth year, 
 at the very time when the most sanguine hopes 
 were entertained of his recovery by Sir George 
 Baker and Pitcairn. His widow, two daughters, 
 and eight sons survived him ; and have erected in 
 Kensington church a just tribute, Viro ingenio, 
 prudentiaque aucto, optimarum artium disci- 
 plinis erudito, wmitatis et beneficentiw laude 
 bonis omnibus commendatissimo. Dr. Turton suc- 
 ceeded him as physician to the king and to the 
 prince of Wales. 
 
 Two memoirs were inserted by him in the Trans- 
 actions of the College of Physicians ; in the first 
 volume of that collection is one On the Bronchial 
 Polypus, and in the second, a not less interest- 
 ing essay, On the Colica Pictonum. It rarely 
 occurs to a family to witness, in two successive 
 generations, the display of similar abilities, and of 
 success in the same pursuit; but the son, who was 
 educated to his own profession, shares at present 
 the post of honour which his parent had so long 
 occupied.
 
 BAILLTE. 
 
 MATTHEW BAILLTE was born in Scotland, in 
 J761, at the parsonage (or manse) of Shots, in 
 Lanarkshire. His father was the clergyman of 
 that place, and hecame afterwards professor of 
 divinity in the University of Glasgow. His mother 
 was the sister of two men whose names will not be 
 soon forgotten, Dr. William Hunter, and John 
 Hunter the surgeon, whom it is almost super- 
 fluous to record as the founder of the museum 
 which has signalized his name in every land where 
 science is cultivated; nor, in the enumeration of 
 his celebrated relations, will it ever be omitted that 
 he himself was the brother of Joanna Baillie, the 
 great poetess of The Passions. 
 
 After passing through the school of Hamilton, 
 where his industry and talent were early disclosed, 
 he entered the University of Glasgow. He ap- 
 pears to have devoted himself, during three years, 
 to the study of languages, of mathematics, and of 
 general philosophy; a mode of education, which 
 experience as well as theory indicate as the best 
 preparation to any pursuit which may afterwards 
 be destined to become the principal object of life. 
 Baillie loved to retrace, in later days, his early 
 companions of the Glasgow classes, and eagerly 
 treasured the good fortune that befell many of
 
 236 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 them, but in which he probably outstripped them 
 all. His first choice of a profession seems to 
 have been in favour of the Church, but the emi- 
 nence of his maternal uncle, "William Hunter, 
 decided him to embrace the more anxious pursuit 
 of medicine. In the mean time, he obtained one 
 of the Scotch exhibitions at Balliol College, Ox- 
 ford, where be resided to complete his general 
 education, while his vacations were also advan- 
 tageously passed under the roof of his uncle, in 
 London. Under auspices so favourable, he soon 
 became a proficient in anatomy, and commenced 
 as a demonstrator, in the anatomical school of his 
 uncle, only two years after entering upon the study 
 of that science. For the progress he had so 
 rapidly made he was greatly indebted to the assi- 
 duous instruction of his kind preceptor, who spared 
 no pains in cultivating in his young pupil that 
 habit of ready and exact explanation of every 
 subject he treated, for which Baillie was in after 
 life so remarkable. The manner he adopted, it is 
 related, was as follows : " Matthew, do you know 
 anything of to-day's lecture?" demanded Dr. 
 Hunter of his nephew. " Yes, sir, I hope I do." 
 " Well then, demonstrate to me." " I will go 
 and fetch the preparation, sir." " Oh no, Matthew, 
 if you know the subject really, you will know it 
 whether the preparation be absent or present." 
 After this short dialogue, Dr. Hunter would stand 
 with his back to the fire, while the young Baillie 
 demonstrated the subject of the lecture which had 
 just been delivered ; and then the student was en- 
 couraged by approbation and assistance, or imme- 
 diately upon the spot convicted of having carried
 
 BAILLIE. 237 
 
 away with him nothing but loose and inaccurate 
 information. At the end of another year, his uncle 
 died, and bequeathed to him the use of the museum 
 (which is now an ornament to the University of 
 Glasgow), his theatre and house in Windmill- 
 street, and also a small family estate in Scotland. 
 The last of these legacies Baillie nobly yielded 
 to his uncle, John Hunter, from a consideration 
 that he was the natural heir. William Hunter also 
 left him about one hundred pounds a year ; and 
 devoted the remainder of his fortune to the sup- 
 port of his museum, to the erection of a building 
 for its reception at Glasgow, and to an annuity to 
 two surviving sisters. 
 
 The example and precepts of so distinguished a 
 relative as William Hunter, afforded advantages 
 such as few students have possessed. Baillie 
 observes of him, in a manuscript lecture, that 
 no one ever possessed more enthusiasm for the 
 art, more persevering industry, more acuteness 
 of investigation, more perspicuity of expression, 
 nor, indeed, a greater share of natural eloquence. 
 The clearness and simplicity which rendered the 
 lessons of William Hunter so instructive and so 
 captivating, were visible, in nearly an equal de- 
 gree, in the lectures which Baillie continued, 
 during many years, to deliver in the same school. 
 He seized every occasion of examining diseased 
 appearances after death, and preserved minute 
 notes of his observations ; his zeal in one instance 
 endangered his life, from a slight wound received 
 on his hand, by a knife, while engaged in the dis- 
 section of a putrid body. He gradually accumu- 
 lated a well-selected collection of specimens of
 
 238 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 diseased organs ; it illustrates almost every diseased 
 alteration in the human body, and is now pre- 
 served in the College of Physicians, to whom he 
 presented it, with a sum of six hundred pounds 
 towards its maintenance, and with his medical 
 library. 
 
 In 1787 5 in his twenty-seventh year, he was 
 elected one of the physicians to St. George's Hos- 
 pital ; and two years afterwards, took the degree 
 of doctor of medicine at Oxford, and became a 
 fellow of the College of Physicians of London. 
 
 Animated and surrounded by the labours of the 
 two Hunters, Baillie collected and arranged a mul- 
 titude of pathological facts, which he presented to 
 the world, in 1 795, in his most useful work on The 
 Morbid Anatomy of some of the most important 
 parts of the Human Body. This well-known 
 book reached five editions during his lifetime ; it 
 was twice translated into French, and twice into 
 German; it has also appeared in Italian. The 
 illustrious Professor Soemmering was one of his 
 German translators : in the letter Avhich accom- 
 panied the present of his translation to Baillie, he 
 styles it superior to any eulogium in his power to 
 bestow. When speaking, in print, of its merits, he 
 observes, in language which is doubly valuable, 
 as coming from one of the most competent judges 
 of the subject ; " the strictest attachment to truth 
 characterizes every page of Dr. Baillie's work : 
 accurate and impartial reasoning is every where 
 conspicuous ; and there is no part but what dis- 
 plays the share of attention that had been paid in 
 observing those alterations of structure to which 
 the various parts of our body are subject. Attcn-
 
 239 
 
 tive and thinking practitioners will here find facts 
 which will furnish them with the true causes of 
 many phenomena they have observed ; they will 
 often find explanations that they had long wished 
 for ; and some will meet with facts, which, instead 
 of agreeing with favourite theories, will serve in 
 the strongest manner to refute them." Meckel, 
 the mdt distinguished living anatomist in Europe, 
 in the fasciculi of Morbid Anatomy which he has 
 recently published, is perpetually citing the text 
 and plates of Baillie, and has clearly derived more 
 information from this source than from any other. 
 Indeed no one can form a just notion of his power 
 of compressing his subject matter, without compar- 
 ing his treatise with the more voluminous ones 
 which had preceded it on the same subject : there 
 is scarcely a pathological fact in the enormous 
 tomes of Bonetus, Lieutaud, and Morgagni, which 
 is not to be found in the small and unpretending 
 manual of Baillie. In the second edition he made 
 a valuable addition of the Symptoms, but the 
 drudgery of extensive practice, which gradually 
 overwhelmed and oppressed him after the age of 
 forty, prevented him from making any further 
 important improvements. About four years after 
 the appearance of this manual, he began to publish 
 his " Engravings," illustrative of it : these plates 
 reflect equal honour on the editor, the draughts- 
 man, and the engraver ; in beauty they have never 
 been excelled. Mr. Clift, the Conservator of the 
 Museum of the College of Surgeons, ought to be 
 mentioned as the artist of the drawings. 
 
 In his twenty-ninth year Buillie married Sophia, 
 the second daughter of the eminent Dr. Denman,
 
 240 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 who, from his extensive connexions as an accouch- 
 eur, possessed many opportunities of recommend- 
 ing his son-in-law. A few years afterwards, Dr. 
 Pitcairn, also, with whom Baillie had heen ac- 
 quainted in very early life, was obliged, at the 
 height of his fame, to relinquish his business 
 through declining health, and introduced his friend 
 to his patients. The circumstances of the illness 
 and death of this accomplished physician, which 
 made so favourable an opening for the rising for- 
 tunes of Baillie, were peculiarly melancholy. He 
 had been obliged to give up his practice, and em- 
 bark for Lisbon in the summer of 1793, where a 
 stay of eighteen months in the mild climate of 
 Portugal so far restored him to health as to war- 
 rant his return to England, and partial resumption 
 of his professional duties. But his convalescence 
 was of short duration only, and Pitcairn was des- 
 tined soon to fall a victim to a disease that had 
 hitherto escaped the observation of the faculty ; and 
 though he had never published any medical work 
 himself, the peculiar and melancholy privilege was 
 reserved for him, to enlighten his profession in the 
 very act of dying. In the spring of 1809, in the 
 month of April, he complained of a soreness in his 
 throat, which, however, he thought so lightly of, as 
 to continue his professional visits for a day or two 
 more. In the night of the 15th of that month, his 
 throat became worse, and on the morning of the 
 following day Baillie called upon him accidentally, 
 but observed at that time no symptoms indicating 
 danger; the insidious disease, however, slowly 
 advanced, and after the lapse of twenty- four hours 
 the embarrassment of breathing became suddenly
 
 BAILLIE. 241 
 
 more distressing, and in a few minutes the patient 
 was dead. 
 
 But to return to Baillie, his engagements in- 
 creased so rapidly, after the first secession of Pit- 
 cairn from London, that in 1799, after having 
 performed the duties of physician to St. George's 
 Hospital during thirteen years, he resigned that ap- 
 pointment, gave up his anatomical lectures also, 
 and, removing to Grosvenor-street, devoted himself 
 entirely to general practice. Unfortunately the 
 brilliant success of his career did not add much 
 to his own happiness ; it was the means of rapidly 
 unhinging his constitution, and of chilling both 
 the elasticity and the tranquillity of mind which 
 are only to be found when the body is in health. 
 He does not seem to have been sufficiently early 
 aware, that those who lead a life of constant un- 
 varying devotion to one pursuit, gradually lose 
 their relish for all other occupations, and become 
 even MdifFerent to any relaxation. Medical men 
 often painfully evince the truth of this remark. 
 Even the taste which he had acquired in his 
 youth for rural scenery and pursuits did not survive 
 to abstract or to charm him at the time when for- 
 tune had made him owner of a large domain ; and 
 when retirement to the country became necessary 
 to his health, he did not find in its haunts the 
 repose which those alone enjoy who, in the midst 
 of their busiest toils, have endeavoured to cherish 
 and to keep alive a relish for the beauties of nature, 
 of art, or of literature. 
 
 Baillie was physician extraordinary to the late 
 king, and physician in ordinary to the Princess 
 Charlotte. In 1810 he attended on the Princess
 
 242 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 Amelia. He was afterwards called to attend George 
 the Third in his last illness ; an attendance which 
 was protracted during ten years, and carried him 
 very frequently to Windsor. He was invited to 
 become an associate of many learned bodies, and 
 received the singular honour of more than thirty 
 dedications in an age when dedications are becom- 
 ing more rare and more genuine. His prosperity 
 did not render him less modest fn his estimate of 
 himself: he used to say to his own family, "I 
 know better, perhaps, than another man, from my 
 knowledge of anatomy, how to discover a disease, 
 but when I have done so, / do not knoio tetter 
 how to cure it," He was remarkable for the con- 
 sideration which he paid to the feelings of his pro- 
 fessional brethren, and more particularly to the 
 younger branches ; punctuality was also one of his 
 characteristics. 
 
 He was in the habit, during many years, of de- 
 voting sixteen hours of each day to business : he 
 often paid visits to his patients until a late hour at 
 night. His physical frame was not so strong as 
 his resolution, and the sword began to wear out 
 the sheath. An irritability of mind sometimes 
 involuntarily contended against his natural kind* 
 ness of heart. He frequently came to his own 
 table after a day of fatigue, and held up his hands 
 to the family circle eager to welcome him home, 
 saying, " Don't speak to me," and then, presently, 
 after a glass of wine, and when the transitory cloud 
 had cleared away from his brow, with a smile of 
 affection he would look round, and exclaim, " You 
 may speak to me now." 
 
 He amassed a very considerable fortune ; but it
 
 BA1LLIE. 243 
 
 was not at the expense of generosity ; his kind- 
 ness and even his munificence are preserved in the 
 memory of many of his survivors. He was in the 
 constant habit of refusing fees, \vhen he thought 
 they could be ill afforded ; and not a few of his 
 patients have become his pecuniary debtors. He 
 had no taste for splendour, but he lived in the 
 manner of an affluent English gentleman. His 
 person was below the middle size, his countenance 
 was plain, but frank ; he retained the dialect of 
 his country, and was blunt in his address, but, 
 when excited into earnest conversation, his fea- 
 tures became illuminated with vivacity and intel- 
 ligence. His personal habits were particularly 
 simple. He preserved through life that tender 
 interest towards his native land which invariably 
 animates superior minds. 
 
 From his habit of public lecturing, he had 
 acquired two great advantages : First, a minute 
 and accurate knowledge of the structure of the 
 human body ; and, second, the most perfect dis- 
 tinctness and excellent arrangement, in what may 
 be called the art of statement. For this latter 
 quality he was very remarkable ; and even when 
 he was compelled to relinquish lecturing (by which 
 he had acquired it), in consequence of the grow- 
 ing extent of his practice, it continued to be of 
 daily advantage to him. In examining a patient, 
 for the purpose of learning the symptoms of the 
 complaint, the questions he put were so feAV as to 
 give an impression of haste and carelessness ; in 
 conversing on the case with the physician whom 
 he met in consultation, he was very short and 
 clear ; and it was not until the relations or friends 
 
 n 2
 
 244 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 of the patient were admitted, and he proceeded to 
 communicate to them the result of the consultation, 
 that he appeared to full advantage. He then gave 
 a short practical lecture, not merely on the symp- 
 toms of the patient, but on the disease generally, 
 in which all that was known on the subject was 
 brought to bear on the individual case, and in 
 doing this, his utterance was so deliberate, that it 
 was easy to follow him. His explanations were 
 so concise, that they always excited attention, and 
 never tired ; and the simplicity of the language 
 in which they were conveyed, where all technical 
 terms were studiously avoided, rendered them per- 
 fectly intelligible. 
 
 It was a maxim with him that the most success- 
 ful treatment of patients depended upon the exer- 
 tion of sagacity or good common sense, guided 
 by a competent professional knowledge, and not 
 by following strictly the rules of practice laid 
 down in books, even by men of the greatest talents 
 and experience. " It is very seldom," he was 
 used to say, " that diseases are found pure and 
 unmixed, as they are commonly described by 
 authors ; and there is almost an endless variety of 
 constitutions. The treatment must be adapted to 
 this mixture and variety, in order to be as success- 
 ful as circumstances will permit ; and this allows 
 of a very wide field for the exercise of good com- 
 mon sense on the part of the physician." 
 
 In his view of the case of a patient, he selected 
 the leading features of the subject, and, neglecting 
 all minor details, systematically abstained from 
 touching upon anything ingenious, subtle, or far- 
 fetched. Hence, in the treatment of disease, he
 
 BAILLIE. 245 
 
 was not fertile in expedients, but aimed at. the ful- 
 filment of a few leading indications, by tbe em- 
 ployment of the simplest means ; if these failed, 
 he was often at a loss what to do next, and had not 
 the talent, for which some are distinguished, of 
 varying his prescription every day, so as to retain 
 the confidence, and keep alive the expectation, of 
 the patient. But this peculiarity of mind, which 
 was perhaps a defect in the practice of his pro- 
 fession, was a great advantage to him in his dis- 
 course, and rendered him unrivalled as a lecturer. 
 After writing a prescription he read it over with 
 great care and consideration, for fear of having 
 committed a mistake. 
 
 During his latter years, when he had retired 
 from all but consultation practice, and had ample 
 time to attend to each individual case, he was very 
 deliberate, tolerant, and willing to listen to what- 
 ever was said to him by the patient ; but, at an 
 earlier period, in the hurry of great business, when 
 his day's work, as he was used to say, amounted to 
 sixteen hours, he was sometimes rather irritable, 
 and betrayed a want of temper in hearing the 
 tiresome details of an unimportant story. After 
 listening, with torture, to a prosing account from 
 a lady, who ailed so little that she was going to the 
 Opera that evening, he had happily escaped from 
 the room, when he was urgently requested to step 
 up stairs again ; it was to ask him whether, on her 
 return from the Opera, she might eat some oysters : 
 " Yes, Ma'am," said Baillie, " shells and all." 
 
 One so engaged, in the daily toil and laborious 
 duties of a great metropolitan doctor, may easily
 
 246 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 be conceived to have enjoyed little leisure for the 
 cultivation of any literary or scientific pursuit, not 
 immediately connected with his profession ; and 
 Baillie, it must be allowed, was wholly and en- 
 tirely a physician. A few years only before his 
 death, during a visit which the late Professor Gre- 
 gory of Edinburgh made to London, these two 
 eminent countrymen, equally distinguished in 
 their respective departments, conversed together 
 on several occasions ; and the judgment they 
 jocosely passed upon each other was expressed 
 in the following manner : " Baillie," said the 
 accomplished and classical professor, " knows 
 nothing but physic." " Gregory," exclaimed the 
 skilful and experienced London practitioner, 
 " seems to me to know every thing but physic."* 
 
 In 1823, after much bodily suffering, but with 
 an unshaken mind, his career was terminated, too 
 soon for himself, for his friends, and for the public. 
 He left some Brief Observations on Diseases, for 
 private posthumous publication. They are very 
 interesting to those who love to read the experience 
 of an eminent man rather than to grasp at specious 
 promises of novelty, and to confirm what they have 
 learned rather than to wander in search of doubt. 
 
 We cannot present the reader with a more just 
 appreciation of this excellent man than is con- 
 tained in the observations which his distinguished 
 contemporary, Sir Henry Halford, delivered at the 
 
 * Dr. Gregory, who for many years ably filled the chair of the 
 theory and practice of medicine in the University of Edinburgh, was > 
 however, highly distinguished as a physician, as well as in the world 
 of letters.
 
 BAILLIE. iS*7 
 
 College over which he presides, on the character 
 of his departed friend. 
 
 " The same principles which guided Dr. Baillie 
 in his private and domestic life governed his 
 public and professional behaviour. He was kind, 
 generous, and sincere. His purse and his per- 
 sonal services were always at the command of 
 those who could prefer a proper claim to them ; 
 and every branch of the profession met with equal 
 attention. Nay, such was his condescension, that 
 he often incurred great inconvenience to himself 
 by his punctual observance of appointments with 
 the humblest practitioners. 
 
 " In consultation he was candid and liberal in 
 the highest degree ; and so industriously gave 
 credit to the previous treatment of the patient, (if 
 he could approve of it,) that the physician who 
 called him in never failed to find himself in the 
 same possession of the good opinion of the family 
 as he was before the circumstances of the case 
 had made a consultation necessary. 
 
 " His manner of explaining the disease, and 
 the remedies recommended, were peculiar to him- 
 self, and singularly happy. It was a short com- 
 pressed lecture, in which the objects in view, and 
 the means by which they were to be obtained, were 
 developed with great clearness of conception, and in 
 such simple, unadorned language as was intelligible 
 to his patient, and satisfactory to his colleague. 
 
 " Before his time, it was not usual for a physi- 
 cian to do much more than prescribe remedies for 
 the malady, and to encourage the patient by such 
 arguments of consolation as might present them- 
 selves to humane and cultivated minds. But, as
 
 248 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 the assumed gravity and outward signs of the pro- 
 fession were now considered obsolete customs, 
 and were, by general consent, laid aside by the 
 physicians, and as a more curious anxiety began 
 to be observed on the part of the patient to learn 
 every thing connected with his complaint, arising 
 naturally from the improved state of general know- 
 ledge, a different conduct became necessary in the 
 sick-room. 
 
 " The innovation required by the spirit of mo- 
 dern times never could have been adopted by any 
 one more fitted by nature and inclination to carry 
 it into effect than Dr. Baillie. 
 
 " The attention which he had paid to morbid 
 anatomy enabled him to make a nice discrimina- 
 tion in symptoms, and to distinguish between dis- 
 orders which resemble each other. It gave him 
 a confidence also in propounding his opinions, 
 which our conjectural art does not readily admit ; 
 and the reputation which he enjoyed, universally, 
 for openness and sincerity, made his dicta be re- 
 ceived with a ready and unresisting faith. 
 
 " He appeared to lay a great stress upon the 
 information which he might derive from the ex- 
 ternal examination of his patient, and to be much 
 influenced in the information of his opinion of the 
 nature of the complaint by this practice. 
 
 " He had originally adopted this habit from the 
 peculiar turn of his early studies ; and, assuredly, 
 such a method, not indiscriminately, but judi- 
 ciously employed, as he employed it, is a valuable 
 auxiliary to the other ordinary means, used by a 
 physician, of obtaining the knowledge of a disease 
 submitted to him. But it is equally true, that.
 
 BAILLIE. 249 
 
 notwithstanding its air of mechanical precision, 
 such examination is not to be depended upon be- 
 yond a certain point. Great disordered action 
 may prevail in a part, without having yet pro- 
 duced such disorganization as may be sensibly 
 felt ; and to doubt of the existence of a disease, 
 because it is not discoverable by the touch, is not 
 only unphilosophical, but must surely, in many 
 instances, lead to unfounded and erroneous con- 
 clusions. One of the inevitable consequences of 
 such a system is frequent disappointment in fore- 
 telling the issue of the malady, that most impor- 
 tant of all points to the reputation of the physician ; 
 and though such a mode of investigation might 
 prove eminently successful in the skilful hands of 
 Dr. Baillie, it must be allowed to be an example 
 of dangerous tendency to those who have not had 
 his means of acquiring knowledge, nor enjoyed the 
 advantages of his great experience, nor have 
 learned, by the previous steps of education and 
 good discipline, to reason and judge correctly. 
 The quickness with which a physician of keen per- 
 ception, and great practice, makes up his mind on 
 the nature of a disease, and the plan of treatment 
 to be employed, differs as widely as possible from 
 the inconsiderate haste which marks the decisions 
 of the rash and the uninformed. 
 
 " Dr. Baillie acquired business early by the 
 credit of his book on morbid anatomy. From the 
 date of its first publication, its materials must have 
 been furnished, principally, by a careful inspection 
 of the diseased preparations collected in the mu- 
 seum of his uncle, Dr. Hunter. But it opened a 
 new and most productive field of curious know-
 
 250 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 ledge and interesting research in physic : and 
 when he came to add, in the subsequent editions 
 which were required, an account of the symptoms 
 which accompanied the progressive alteration 
 made in the natural structure of parts, by some 
 diseases, during the life of the patient, from his 
 own observation and experience, he rendered his 
 work highly valuable and universally popular. 
 Impressed, as he was, with the great importance 
 and value of such morbid preparations, in assisting 
 the physician to discriminate obscure internal dis- 
 eases, his generosity prompted him, after the 
 example of the immortal Harvey, to give, in his 
 lifetime, his own collection to the College of 
 Physicians. He has thus laid the foundation of a 
 treasury of knowledge, for which posterity will 
 owe him a debt of gratitude to the latest period. 
 
 " He published, from time to time, several me- 
 dical papers in the Transactions of the College, 
 and in other periodical works ; all written in a 
 plain and simple style, and useful, as containing 
 the observations of a physician of such extensive 
 experience. 
 
 "But justice cannot be done to Dr. Baillie's 
 medical character, unless that important feature in 
 it, which appeared in every part of his conduct 
 and demeanour, his religious principle, be dis- 
 tinctly stated and recognised. His ample converse 
 with one of the most wonderful works of the 
 Creator, the formation of man, inspired in him 
 an admiration of the Supreme Being, which no- 
 thing could exceed. He had, indeed, ' looked 
 through nature up to nature's God ; ' and the pro- 
 mises of the Gospel, on the conditions explained
 
 BAILUE. liJL 
 
 by our Redeemer, wore \\\s humble, but confident 
 hope in life, and his consolation in death. 
 
 " If one precept appeared to be more practi- 
 cally approved by him than another, it was that 
 which directs us to do unto others as we would 
 have them do unto us ; and this was felt and ac- 
 knowledged daily by all his professional brethren 
 in their intercourse with him. 
 
 " On the whole, we may say of him what 
 Tacitus does of Agricola : Bonum virum facile 
 crcderes ; magnum libenter."
 
 252 
 
 JENNER. 
 
 AMONG all the names which ought to be consecrated 
 by the gratitude of mankind, that of Jenner stands 
 pre-eminent : it would be difficult, we are inclined 
 to say impossible, to select from the catalogue of 
 benefactors to human nature, an individual who 
 has contributed so largely to the preservation of 
 life, and to the alleviation of sufferings. Into what- 
 ever corner of the world the blessing of printed 
 knowledge has penetrated, there also will the 
 name of Jenner be familiar ; but the fruits of his 
 discovery have ripened in barbarous soils, where 
 books have never been opened, and where the 
 savage does not pause to inquire from what 
 source he has derived relief. No improvement in 
 the physical sciences can bear a parallel with that 
 which ministers, in every part of the globe, to the 
 prevention of deformity, and, in a great propor- 
 tion, to the exemption from actual destruction. 
 
 The ravages which the small-pox formerly com- 
 mitted are scarcely conceived or recollected by 
 the present generation ; and an instance of death 
 occurring after vaccination is now eagerly seized 
 and commented upon; yet forty years have not 
 elapsed since this disease might fairly be termed 
 the scourge of mankind, and an enemy more ex- 
 tensive and more insidious in its warfare than 
 even the plague. A family blighted in its fairest
 
 JENNER. 253 
 
 hopes, through this terrible visitation, was an every- 
 day spectacle : the imperial house of Austria lost 
 eleven of its offspring by the small pox in fifty 
 years alone ;* the instance is mentioned, because 
 it is historical, but in the obscure and unrecorded 
 scenes of life, this pest was often a still more 
 merciless intruder. 
 
 Nevertheless, a painful reflection is forced upon 
 us, in considering the history of Jenner; he 
 surely did not receive, among his countrymen, the 
 distinction, the fortune, and the fame which he 
 merited. It seems that, among nations called 
 civilized, the persons who contribute to amusement, 
 and to the immediate gratification of the senses, 
 occupy a higher share of attention, than the gifted 
 and generous beings who devote their existence 
 to the discovery of truths of vital importance. 
 The sculptor, the painter, the musician, the actor, 
 shall engross, a thousand times, the thoughts of 
 citizens, who perhaps, only five times in a whole 
 life, consider the merits of a Jenner. The little 
 arts of puffing, the mean machinery of osten- 
 tation, never once entered the heads of a Newton, 
 a Watt, or a Jenner ; but they protrude into me- 
 ridian splendour the puny pretensions of count- 
 less poetasters, witlings, and amateurs. Real 
 genius and active industry should not be dismayed, 
 however, by this indifference which clouds the 
 dawn of their exertions, and which sometimes 
 nips the bud of noble aspirations ; for great truths 
 there will always come a time and a place ; the 
 
 * The grandfather of Maria Theresa died of it, wrapped, by order 
 of the faculty, in twenty yards of scarlet broad-cloth.
 
 254 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 man who works for the benefit of his fellow- 
 beings can afford to wait the hour allotted for 
 the full development of his labours, and bequeaths, 
 in tranquil confidence, to posterity the reputation 
 which he may have failed to obtain from a domi- 
 nant coterie of capricious contemporaries. 
 
 The father of Jenner was vicar of Berkeley, in 
 Gloucestershire, the possessor of considerable 
 landed property, and a member of a family of 
 great antiquity in that county and Worcester- 
 shire. Edward Jenner, his third son, the illus- 
 trious subject of our memoir, was born in the 
 vicarage on the 17th of May, 1749. 
 
 Before Edward was nine years of age he mani- 
 fested a growing taste for natural history in form- 
 ing a collection of the nests of the dormouse ; and 
 when at Cirencester, he spent the hours, devoted 
 by the other pupils of Dr. Washbourn's school to 
 play, in searching for the fossils which abound 
 in that neighbourhood. He was removed from 
 this seminary to Sudbury, near Bristol, in order 
 to be instructed in the elements of surgery and 
 pharmacy by Mr. Ludlow, a person of eminence 
 in his profession. When he had completed his 
 apprenticeship to this gentleman, he came to 
 London, to pursue his studies under the care of 
 John Hunter, in whose house he resided, as a 
 pupil, during two years. Jenner was, on his 
 arrival in London, in the twenty-first year of his 
 age, and John Hunter was now in his forty - 
 second. This difference of age did not prevent 
 the formation of a real friendship ; a community 
 of tastes and pursuits united them to the last ; and 
 Jenner could not fail to profit by the many oppor-
 
 JENNER. ZOi) 
 
 tunities which his patron enjoyed, as a lecturer, as 
 surgeon to St. George's Hospital, and in the pos- 
 session of a menagerie at Brompton, where he 
 prosecuted his inquiries into the habits and struc- 
 ture of animals. This was a fortunate crisis in 
 Jenner's life ; the spark of observation was latent 
 in his mind, and Hunter supplied the friendly 
 breath. Jenner became an enthusiast in pursuit 
 of natural history, in its most extended sense. In 
 the dissection of tender and delicate organs, and 
 in minute injections, he was almost unrivalled, 
 and displayed the parts with the greatest accuracy 
 and elegance. He bequeathed to Dr. Baron, of 
 Gloucester, his friend and able biographer, a 
 preparation which combines all these qualities. 
 It represents the progress of the ovum in our 
 common domestic fowl, from its first develop- 
 ment to its full and complete growth, when it is 
 about to be dropped from the oviduct. The vas- 
 cularity of the membrane which invests the ova, 
 as well as the internal state of the oviduct, where 
 the shell is formed, are all exhibited with masterly 
 skill. 
 
 "While he was residing with Hunter, in 177^ 
 Captain Cooke returned from his first voyage of 
 discovery. The specimens of natural history 
 which had been collected by Sir Joseph Banks 
 were in a great measure arranged by Jenner, 
 who was recommended by Hunter for that ser- 
 vice. So much dexterity and knowledge were 
 evinced by him in the execution of this labour, 
 that he was offered the appointment of Natu- 
 ralist to the next expedition, which sailed in 
 1772. Neither this flattering proposal, however,
 
 256 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 nor any other more enticing prospects, could alter 
 his purpose of fixing his abode in the place which 
 had given him birth. He was partly influenced in 
 this determination by the grateful affection which 
 he entertained towards his eldest brother, the 
 guide of his orphan years; and partly by that 
 attachment to rural scenes, and to the traces of 
 early life, which operates more or less on every 
 generous and sensitive heart. 
 
 He returned, accordingly, to Berkeley, and 
 took up his residence with his brother Stephen. 
 Few men have commenced their career with a 
 more conscientious preparation for its duties. 
 Towards John Hunter he ever maintained the 
 most grateful friendship, and generally spoke of 
 him as the dear man : he kept up an active cor- 
 respondence with his former instructor, and the 
 letters preserved in Dr. Baron's memoir are 
 full of lively interest on subjects of natural his- 
 tory and physiology ; pictures form sometimes 
 a topic of discussion, and on both sides remark- 
 able ardour and industry are displayed on the 
 investigations congenial to their disposition. His 
 practice rapidly increased, and he acquired a de- 
 gree of reputation rarely attained at so early an 
 age. Still he abstracted from the fatigues of 
 country practice a sufficient portion of time to 
 accumulate, in a short time, a series of specimens 
 illustrative of comparative anatomy and natural 
 history, which, had they been displayed with more 
 ostentation, would have formed no inconsiderable 
 museum. His attention was, in later years, drawn 
 to a more engrossing object; otherwise, his re- 
 searches in the above field must have placed him
 
 JENNER. 257 
 
 finally in an elevated rank amongst its most suc- 
 cessful explorers. We perceive that Jenner was 
 not conducted to his great discovery by an accident 
 which might have equally favoured a less diligent 
 student, but that his mind was prepared to seize 
 any previously unnoticed phenomenon which 
 might present itself, and to derive from a careful 
 and vigorous spirit of observation those profitable 
 results which the indolent and timid ascribe to 
 the chance of fortune, but which are in reality the 
 rewards of patient and \vell-directed inquiry. 
 
 We shall enter more minutely into the early 
 period of Jenner's life than into the details of his 
 later years, which are in a manner embodied with 
 the subject that has consecrated his name. The 
 years in which a great character forms itself, and 
 the manner in which it displays itself before it has 
 ripened into public fame, are always those least 
 familiar to the world, and, we may add, are often 
 the most instructive and animating to others. In 
 this early part of his career Jenner afforded indi- 
 cations of genius which good judges of character 
 recognised as the harbingers of future reputation. 
 His surgical attainments, his amiable and polished 
 manners, and his very general information, se- 
 cured to him a welcome reception from the most 
 distinguished families in his district. His tender- 
 ness, kindness, and meekness, were remarkable ; 
 an uncommon delicacy of feeling occasionally 
 threw a pensive shade over his mind, but his 
 lively disposition equally entered into the deepest 
 sympathy with the sadder moments of his friends, 
 or gaily participated in their happier hours. The 
 excursions which he was obliged to make gratified 
 
 s
 
 258" BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 his keen relish for the picturesque beauty in which 
 his neighbourhood abounded ; and many were de- 
 lighted to accompany him twenty miles in his 
 morning ridesy eagerly listening to the overflow- 
 ings of an enthusiastic admirer of nature and of art. 
 
 His appearance and manner during this portion 
 of his life were vividly described to Dr. Baron by 
 one of his earliest friends, in terms so character- 
 istic that the object stands before us. " His 
 height was under the middle size, his person was 
 robust, but active and well formed. In his dress 
 he was peculiarly neat, and everything about him 
 showed the man intent and serious, and well pre- 
 pared to meet the duties of his calling. When I 
 first saw him, it was on Frampton Green. I was 
 somewhat his junior in years, and had heard so 
 much of Mr. Jenner of Berkeley, that I had no 
 small curiosity to see him. He was dressed in a 
 blue coat and yellow buttons, buckskins, well- 
 polished jockey boots, with handsome silver spurs; 
 and he carried a smart whip with a silver handle. 
 His hair, after the fashion of the times, was done 
 up in a club, and he wore a broad-brimmed hat. ' 
 
 " We were introduced on that occasion, and I 
 was delighted and astonished. I was prepared to 
 find an accomplished man, and all the country 
 spoke of him as a skilful surgeon and a great 
 naturalist ; but I did not expect to find him so 
 much at home on other matters. I, who had been 
 spending my time in cultivating my judgment by 
 abstract study, and sin it from my boyhood with the 
 love of song, had sought my amusement in the 
 rosy fields of imagination, was not less surprised 
 than gratified to find that the ancient affinity be-
 
 JENXER. VO'J 
 
 tween Apollo and ^Esculapius was so well main- 
 tained in his person." 
 
 The attraction of Jenner's conversation would 
 often induce his friends to accompany him even at 
 midnight many miles on his road homewards from 
 professional avocations. His humour is described 
 by Dr. Baron as most enlivening and descriptive, 
 and the more engaging, as it was alike free from all 
 manner of impurity and of malevolence. In these 
 respects he was, as Izaak Walton says, neither 
 beholden to the devil nor his own corruptions, 
 but kept clear of both. His imagination was 
 always active, and he appears to have frequently 
 sought relaxation from severer studies in poetical 
 compositions. He was much attached to music 
 performed on the violin and flute. In his latter 
 years (says Dr. Baron), after his renown had filled 
 the world, and after the many cares attendant on 
 vaccination had oiten weighed heavy upon him, 
 I have seen him shake them entirely off, take up 
 a humorous strain, and sing one of his own ballads 
 with all the mirth of youthful life. We subjoin 
 a few specimens of his verse, not so much for 
 their poetic merit (though that of the second piece, 
 especially, has received high and just praise), as to 
 mark his flexibility of talent, and his close obser- 
 vation of the features of nature. 
 
 ADDRESS TO A ROBIN. 
 
 COME, sweetest of the feather'd throng ! 
 And sooth me with thy plaintive song ; 
 Come to my cot, devoid of fear, 
 No danger shall await thee here. 
 No prowling cat, with whisker'd face, 
 Approaches this sequester'd place ; 
 
 s 2,
 
 260 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 No school boy, with his willow-bow, 
 
 Shall aim at thee a murd'rous blow ; , 
 
 No wily limed twig e'er molest 
 
 Thy olive wing or crimson breast : 
 
 Thy cup, sweet bird ! I'll duly fill 
 
 At yonder cressy, bubbling rill ; 
 
 Thy board shall plenteously be spread 
 
 With crumblets of the nicest bread : 
 
 And when rude winter comes, and shows 
 
 His icicles and shiv'ring snows, 
 
 Hop o'er my cheering hearth, and be 
 
 One of my peaceful family : 
 
 Then sooth me with thy plaintive song, 
 
 Thou sweetest of the feather'd throng ! 
 
 SIGNS OF RAIN. 
 An Excuse for not accepting the Invitation of a Friend to 
 
 make a Country Excursion. 
 THE hollow winds begin to blow, 
 The clouds look black, the glass is low, 
 The soot falls down, the spaniels sleep, 
 And spiders from their cobwebs creep. 
 Last night the sun went pale to bed, 
 The moon in halos hid her head. 
 The boding shepherd heaves a sigh, 
 For see ! a rainbow spans the sky. 
 The walls are damp, the ditches smell ; 
 Closed is the pink-eyed pimpernel. 
 Hark ! how the chairs and tables crack ; 
 Old Betty's joints are on the rack. 
 Loud quack the ducks, the peacocks cry ; 
 The distant hills are looking nigh. 
 How restless are the snorting swine ! 
 The busy flies disturb the kine. 
 Low o'er the grass the swallow wings ; 
 The cricket, too, how loud it sings ! 
 Puss, on the hearth, with velvet paws, 
 Sits smoothing o'er her whisker'd jaws. 
 Through the clear stream the fishes rise, 
 And nimbly catch th* incautious flies ; 
 The sheep were seen, at early light, 
 Cropping the meads with eager bite.
 
 JENNER. 261 
 
 Though June, the air is cold and chill ; 
 The mellow blackbird's voice is still. 
 The glow-worms, numerous and bright,' 
 Illumed the dewy dell last night ; 
 At dusk the squalid toad was seen, 
 Hopping, crawling, o'er the green. 
 The frog has lost his yellow vest, 
 And in a dingy suit is dress'd. 
 The leech, disturb'd, is newly risen 
 Quite to the summit of his prison. 
 The whirling winds the dust obeys, 
 And in the rapid eddy plays. 
 My dog, so alter'd in his taste, 
 Quits mutton-bones, on grass to feast ; 
 And see yon rooks, how odd their flight ! 
 They imitate the gliding kite ; 
 Or seem precipitate to fall, 
 As if they felt the piercing ball. 
 'Twill surely rain : I see, with sorrow, 
 Our jaunt must be put off to-morrow. 
 
 In March, 1788, he added greatly to his happi- 
 ness by marrying Miss Catharine Kingscote, a 
 lady of elegant manners, accomplished mind, and 
 vigorous understanding ; in her counsel and sym- 
 pathy he found support in many of the future trials 
 of his life. 
 
 About this time, his curious paper on the Cuckoo 
 was read at the Royal Society, and printed in the 
 Transactions. He had bestowed great care in 
 collecting the facts, and in reporting them with 
 fidelity. It explained the habits of the cuckoo 
 with much clearness, and its account has been 
 adopted by every succeeding naturalist. The 
 cuckoo does not itself hatch the six eggs which it 
 lays, from time to time, in the spring, but places 
 them singly in the nest of the hedge-sparrow, 
 water- wagtail, &c. ; the office of incubation being
 
 262 
 
 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 thus transferred to the latter. It is remarkable 
 that its eggs, although much larger than those of 
 these other birds, do not require a longer period 
 of incubation. The young cuckoo grows rapidly, 
 and soon expels the brood of the sparrow, &c., 
 from their own nest. Jenner proposes a new solu- 
 tion of these peculiarities ; for which we refer our 
 readers to the original, or to the analysis of his 
 1 aographer. 
 
 Oppressed by the fatigues inseparable from ge- 
 neral practice in the country, he resolved to con- 
 fine himself to medicine, and obtained, in 1792, a 
 degree of M.D. from the University of St. An- 
 drew's. No man has conferred more lustre on 
 that title, however obtained, than Jenner ; but it 
 is due to this ancient seminary to state, that it no 
 longer affords admission to its honours on such 
 easy terms ; it has reformed itself, and now de- 
 serves to rank with most of the medical schools 
 of Europe in the tests of proficiency which it de- 
 mands from candidates. Towards the end of 1794, 
 Jenner was attacked with a typhus fever, which 
 nearly proved fatal. The excellent Dr. Parry, of 
 Bath, came to attend him. He has himself left a 
 touching picture of his own sufferings, as well as' 
 those of his family, in a letter addressed to his 
 friend, W. F. Shrapnell, Esq. 
 
 We now arrive at the critical period of Jenner's 
 life, to which our limits will render a very inade- 
 quate justice ; happily the subject is one on which 
 information has been amplv accumulated, and is 
 easily accessible on all sides. 
 
 While Jenner was pursuing his professional 
 education in the house of his master, at Sudbury,
 
 7ENNER. 
 
 a young countrywoman applied for advice; the 
 subject of small-pox was casually mentioned in her 
 presence ; she immediately remarked, " I cannot 
 take that disease, for I have had cow-pox." This 
 was a popular notion in his district, but it now 
 fixed his attention, and grew with his growth. It 
 appears that, in Dorsetshire, a pustular eruption, 
 derived from infection, and chiefly showing itself 
 on the hands of milkers who had milked cows 
 similarly disordered, attracted attention about forty 
 or fifty years ago. It had been found to secure 
 persons from the small-pox. Numerous examples 
 are said to have been communicated to Sir George 
 Baker, who had been, not long before, engaged 
 in a very troublesome, though honourable and 
 successful, controversy respecting the endemical 
 colic of Devonshire, and was probably unwilling 
 to break another lance. In one of Jenner's note- 
 books, of 1799> we find the following anecdote: 
 " I know of no direct allusion to the disease in any 
 ancient writer, yet the following seems not very 
 distantly to bear upon it. When the Duchess of 
 Cleveland was taunted by her companions, Moll 
 Davis (Lady Mary Davis) and others, that she 
 might soon have to deplore the loss of that beauty 
 which was then her boast, the small-pox at that 
 time raging in London : she made a reply to this 
 effect, that she had no fear about the matter, for 
 she had had a disorder which would prevent her 
 from ever catching the small-pox. This was 
 lately communicated by a gentleman, in this 
 county, but unfortunately he could not recollect 
 from what author he gained this intelligence." 
 Jenner had frequently witnessed the ravages of
 
 264 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 small-pox ; he also vividly remembered the disci- 
 pline to which he had been himself subjected prepa- 
 ratory to his inoculation for that disease : " There 
 was," to use his own words, " bleeding till the blood 
 was thin, purging till the body was wasted to a ske- 
 leton, and starring on vegetable diet to keep it so." 
 He early mentioned his rumours of the vaccine 
 protection to Jobn Hunter, who does not seem to 
 have afforded him much encouragement. He ap- 
 pears to have first considered the subject in 1775, 
 and it often recurred to him between that time and 
 1796, when he made his first decisive experiment. 
 Riding with his friend Gardner, in 1780, on the 
 road between Gloucester and Bristol, he sketched 
 to his friend, in the outlines of anticipation, the 
 plan which he wished to pursue, and the success 
 which might possibly hereafter dawn upon him. 
 These are the delicious moments of genius, of in- 
 dustry when, wandering for a time from the 
 rugged or thorny walk of daily exertion, the pro- 
 spective eye looks down from a tranquil and lofty 
 eminence on the distant and varied scenery of 
 hope, melting into the sky, and illumined with" all 
 the colours of imagination. 
 
 At the meetings of the Alveston Medical Club, of 
 which he was a member, he often introduced his fa- 
 vourite theme, but failed in communicating his own 
 enthusiasm to his hearers, who denounced the topic 
 as a nuisance, from its frequent appearance, and 
 even sportively threatened to expel the orator if he 
 continued to harass them with this importunate dis- 
 course. Jenner everywhere proclaimed his belief 
 in the efficacy of his antidote, but he found none 
 to second his wishes ; a similar reception had been
 
 JENMER. 265 
 
 experienced by Harvey, when he published his 
 views of the circulation of the blood. Let no one 
 hereafter abate the honest zeal of useful pursuit, 
 because his ideas are chilled at first by a uni- 
 versal frigid sneer, or by careless ridicule ; such 
 has ever been the fate of those who labour for the 
 benefit of mankind : even the wisest among us 
 oppose innumerable prejudices to the acknow- 
 ledgment of a new truth ; and happy are those 
 who, like Jenner, survive to witness the triumph 
 of their painful struggles in its promulgation. 
 
 In 1788 he carried to London a drawing of the 
 casual disease, as seen on the hands of the milkers, 
 and showed it to Sir Everard Home, and to others. 
 John Hunter had alluded frequently to the fact in 
 his lectures ; Dr. Adams had heard of the cow- 
 pox both from Hunter and Cline, and mentions it 
 in his treatise on Morbid Poisons, printed in 
 1795, three years previously to Jenner's own 
 publication. Still no one had the courage or the 
 penetration to prosecute the inquiry except Jenner. 
 A noble but modest spirit animated him amidst 
 the doubts of all ; he has left us an interesting 
 picture of his feelings. " While the vaccine dis- 
 covery was progressive, the joy I felt at the pro- 
 spect before me of being the instrument destined 
 to take away from the world one of its greatest 
 calamities, blended with the fond hope of enjoying 
 independence, and domestic peace and happiness, 
 were often so excessive, that, in pursuing my 
 favourite subject among the meadows, I have 
 sometimes found myself in a kind of reverie. It 
 is pleasant to me to recollect that those reflections 
 always ended in devout acknowledgments to that
 
 266 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 Being from whom this and all other blessings 
 flow." 
 
 Hitherto he had only remarked the casual dis- 
 ease ; it remained to be proved whether it was 
 possible to propagate the affection by inoculation 
 from one human being to another, and thus com- 
 municate security against small-pox at will. On 
 the 14th of May, 1796, an opportunity occurred 
 of making the trial. On that day an annual festival 
 is still held at Berlin to commemorate the event. 
 Matter was then taken from the hand of Sarah 
 Nelmes, who had been infected by her master's 
 cows, and inserted by two superficial incisions into 
 the arms of James Phipps, a healthy boy of about 
 eight years old. After zealously multiplying his 
 experiments, he published his first memoir in 
 June, 1798. He had originally intended to con- 
 sign his results to the Transactions of the Royal 
 Society ; but Dr. Gregory has quoted from Mr. 
 Moore's History of Vaccination (p. 20), the cause 
 of their not appearing in that form Jenner had 
 been seriously admonished not to present his paper, 
 lest it should injure the character which he had 
 previously acquired among scientific men by his 
 essay on the Cuckoo. In this work he announced 
 the security against small-pox afforded by the true 
 cow-pox, and also traces the origin of that disease 
 in the cow to a similar affection of the heel of the 
 horse. 
 
 This is neither the time nor the place for record- 
 ing the various disappointments and difficulties 
 which darkened the outset of this inestimable dis- 
 covery, nor do we wish to recall the names of those 
 who violently opposed its progress, or who less
 
 JENNEIl. 267 
 
 candidly sought to undermine the pretensions of 
 its author. The late eminent surgeon, Mr. Cline, 
 deserves to be enumerated among the warmest 
 friends of Jenner ; he advised him to quit the 
 country, and to settle in Grosvenor Square, pro- 
 mising him an income of ten thousand a year as 
 the fruits of his practice. Here was the tide in 
 Jenner's life which perhaps he might have taken to 
 his advantage, hut those who read the modest and 
 philosophic reasons which he assigns for preferring 
 his original situation, will respect his motives. 
 " Shall I," says he in a letter to a friend, " who 
 even in the morning of my days sought the lowly 
 and sequestered paths of life, the valley and not 
 the mountain, shall I, now my evening is fast 
 approaching, hold myself up as an object for for- 
 tune and for fame ? Admitting it as a certainty 
 that I obtain both, what stock should I add to my 
 little fund of happiness ? My fortune, with what 
 flows in from my profession, is sufficient to gratify 
 my wishes." 
 
 However wisely Jenner may have consulted his 
 own feelings on this occasion, the public lost the 
 benefit of his judgment and presence ; after a long 
 period of apathy, and in spite of ridicule, a re- 
 action at length ensued, and vaccination suddenly 
 became a favourite with all ranks, and was not 
 always judiciously practised, nor carefully exa- 
 mined. While the author of the discovery was 
 absent, busy rivals started up ; he was not present 
 to plead his own claims, nor to explain his own 
 views ; cabals were formed, not for the purpose of 
 doing him justice, but rather to repress him into 
 obscurity. But these alloys are seldom wanting
 
 268 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 to successful projectors, and we are scarcely sur- 
 prised to find that one active promoter of the 
 discovery is only so far penetrated* with Jenner's 
 merit, as to offer him the situation of extra-corre- 
 sponding physician to a vaccine institution, with 
 the privilege of recommending patients by proxy, on 
 the payment of an annual guinea. But an honour- 
 able tribute was paid to him so early as the summer 
 of 1799, when thirty-three of the leading physi- 
 cians, and forty eminent surgeons of London, 
 signed an earnest expression of their confidence 
 in the efficacy of the cow-pox. Persons of ele- 
 vated rank deserve the highest commendation 
 when they afford support to objects which do not 
 easily become familiar to them ; the Royal Family 
 of England exerted themselves to encourage Jen- 
 ner; the Duke of Clarence was very active in 
 the cause in the early part of 1800, and in the 
 March of the same year Jenner was introduced 
 successively to the Duke of York, the King, the 
 Prince of Wales, and the Queen ; all of whom did 
 themselves honour by the attention which they 
 bestowed upon him. 
 
 Jenner next directed his benevolent exertions 
 to diffuse the blessing among other countries. In 
 order to estimate properly the fruits of his exertions, 
 let us consider the evil which he combated, and 
 which he finally deprived of its principal strength. 
 From an examination of the London bills of mor- 
 tality during forty-two years, Dr. Jurin ascertained 
 that, even after inoculation had been introduced, 
 one in fourteen of all that were born perished by 
 the small-pox. Of persons of every age taken ill 
 in the natural way, one in five or six died ; while
 
 JEXNER. 209 
 
 even of the inoculated one in fifty fell a victim. 
 Condorcet, in recommending the adoption of vac- 
 cination in France, exclaimed, " La petite verole 
 nous decime." In the Russian empire it is said 
 to have swept away two millions in a single year.* 
 At Constantinople it proved fatal in many epidemics 
 to one half of those infected. But, after that the dis- 
 ease had been undergone, traces often remained in 
 the habit only inferior in severity to the evil itself; 
 it appears from the records of the London Asylum 
 for the Indigent Blind, that three-fourths of the 
 objects there relieved had lost their sight through 
 the small-pox. These inflictions might fill many 
 pages of detail ; they ought to be steadily borne in 
 mind even at present. 
 
 The late professor Gregory had the merit of 
 introducing vaccination into Scotland, in which 
 he was aided by Sir Matthew Tierney. Dr. 
 Waterhouse succeeded, about the year 1800, in 
 establishing the practice in America. Dr. De 
 Carro, at that period settled in Vienna, deserves 
 particular mention for his successful exertions in 
 communicating this antidote to Asia. We cannot 
 afford space to enumerate the active promoters of 
 the measure on the continent of Europe, but Dr. 
 Sacco of Milan distinguished himself both by 
 active co-operation, and by personal inquiries into 
 the origin of cow-pox. Most of the governments 
 of Europe have since enjoined the practice by 
 various enactments, which more or less amount 
 to compulsion, and the results have been more 
 favourable under such circumstances than in our 
 
 * Woodville on Small-Pox, p. 292.
 
 270 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 own country, where individuals are abandoned to 
 the guidance of their own capricious suggestions. 
 
 A committee of parliament was soon appointed 
 to consider the claims of Jenner upon the gratitude 
 of his country. It was clearly proved that he had 
 converted into scientific demonstration a local tra- 
 dition of the peasantry. The committee reported 
 that he was entitled to a remuneration of 20,000; 
 but an objection was raised in the house, and 
 10,000 were voted to him in 1802. In 1807, 
 parliament displayed more justice, and awarded to 
 him an additional grant of 20,000. In 1808, 
 the National Vaccine Establishment was formed 
 by the government, and was placed under his im- 
 mediate direction. Honours were now profusely 
 showered upon Jenner by various foreign princes, 
 as well as by the principal learned bodies of Eu- 
 rope. In the biographies of most men such 
 honours would be recapitulated with minuteness, 
 but the character of Jenner can derive from them 
 no additional lustre ; the universal voice of man- 
 kind has given its suffrage in his favour, and his 
 name will probably survive most of the societies in 
 which it was enrolled. Dr. Baron, in his interesting 
 biography, by which we have largely profited, has 
 published many of the letters which Jenner wrote 
 to afford intelligence, or to express his thanks ; they 
 breathe the finest spirit of modesty and temperance, 
 combined with generous zeal, and a discriminating 
 judgment. In the explanations which he had 
 sometimes occasion to deliver in society, he always 
 exhibited the same qualities, clothed in an eloquent 
 and winning form. 
 
 He passed the remainder of his years principally
 
 JENNCR. 271 
 
 at Berkeley and at Cheltenham, continuing to the 
 last the inquiries which tended to elucidate the 
 great object of his life, and equally respected and 
 beloved by those who entered his circle. Dr. Va- 
 lentin, an eminent physician of Nancy has pub- 
 lished in France an interesting account of a visit, 
 or pilgrimage, which he made to genius ; he left 
 him an enthusiastic admirer. Dr. Joseph Frank, 
 in his Medical Travels, printed at Vienna, has 
 paid a similar tribute of disinterested respect. 
 
 He died by a sudden attack of apoplexy at 
 Berkeley, in February, 1823, in the seventy-fourth 
 year of a green old age. A statue has been 
 erected to his memory in his native county, but we 
 regret to add that no monument has as yet been 
 raised to him in Westminster Abbey, whose 
 proudest inmates would be honoured by such com- 
 panionship. 
 
 We are acquainted with five medals which have 
 been struck in honour of Jenner, and it is greatly 
 to the honour of the German nation that three of 
 these were produced in that country. The sur- 
 geons of the British navy presented him with one, 
 and the London Medical Society with another. 
 The eminent physiologist, Rudolphi, of Berlin, in 
 his Catalogue of the Medals of Men of Science, 
 prefaces the list of Jennerian medals with the just 
 expression, Dear to the human race. We regret 
 to be obliged to oppose to this generous sjinpathy 
 an article which has appeared in the Dictionnaire 
 des Sciences Medicales^ in which Dr. Husson, who 
 had been an early correspondent of Jenner's, makes 
 a singular discovery, " sur 1'origine vraiment 
 Fran9aise de la Vaccine." In 1803, Dr. Husson
 
 272 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 had spoken in warm terms " de la decouverte de 
 Jenner," and had hailed him as one of the " plus 
 grands bienfaiteurs de I'humanite." But in the 
 article of Vaccination, published in the above 
 dictionary, in 1821, he declares in detail that the 
 first idea was given by a Frenchman, videlicet, 
 Mr. Rabant, a protestant minister at Montpelier. 
 
 But a question more worthy of attention forces 
 itself on our notice. Is the small-pox totally under 
 the control of vaccination, and is it likely to be 
 extirpated? Those who consider the careless- 
 ness and improvidence of mankind, the manner in 
 which trivial accidents often impede the most ear- 
 nest intentions, and the alloy of evil so largely 
 mixed up with every earthly good, cannot entertain 
 any sanguine hope to that effect, but are not at 
 all the less penetrated with the value of vaccination. 
 Every habit and every object in nature has its ex- 
 ceptions. Thousands of seeds are deposited yearly 
 in the earth, which never shoot into life, but the 
 farmer does not the less continue to sow. The cases 
 of small-pox which occur after vaccination are not 
 more numerous than the exceptions which alike 
 occur to other human antidotes. If vaccination 
 cannot be at present considered as a never-failing 
 and invariable preservative, it must continue to 
 be recommended as a very potent and a very 
 general preventive of small-pox. It is an operation 
 attended with no danger, and with very little in- 
 convenience ; it protects a very large majority ; 
 and in those instances in which small -pox occurs 
 subsequently to it, it usually assumes a mild cha- 
 racter. It should be noticed, that these subsequent 
 instances are less frequent in the countries in which
 
 JENNEB, ay.) 
 
 vaccination is enforced by tlie government, tliau 
 in our own. The Council of Health, of Paris, in 
 their annual report for 1828, declare, that the 
 deaths from small-pox continue gradually to di- 
 minish in that city ; and express a helief, that the 
 authorities are more active than ever in propa- 
 gating vaccination, and that the prejudices of the 
 public are daily yielding to the conviction forced 
 upon it by repeated evidence of efficacy. 
 
 We shall conclude with the important statement 
 conveyed in the last " Report of the National Vac- 
 cine Establishment" to the Secretary of State for 
 the Home Department. 
 
 March '2d, 129. 
 
 The number of persons who have died of small-pox 
 in the course of the last year, within the bills of mor- 
 tality, amounts to 598 ; and we have no reason to think that 
 this distemper has abated any thing of its virulence, or 'that 
 it is more controllable by the expedients of our art than it 
 was in the times of its more general prevalence ; for it still 
 proves fatal to one out of three of those who take it in the 
 natural wuy. It may seem strange, therefore, that any part 
 of the population of the capital can still be found insensible 
 to the advantages of the protective process, or careless 
 enough to forego the resource which the charity of Parlia- 
 ment most humanely and generously provides for its safety. 
 
 We have the satisfaction, however, of finding that more 
 than 10,000 of the poor have been vaccinated in London 
 and its neighbourhood since our last Report ; and it is par- 
 ticularly gratifying to learn, from the Tecords of the last 
 year's experience of the Small-pox Hospital, that no patient 
 admitted there under small-pox, after vaccination, had been 
 vaccinated by any officer of this Establishment ; whence it 
 is fair to presume, that when the operation has been per- 
 formed with due care and intelligence, it is much less liable 
 to be followed by small-pox, and that such care and circum- 
 spection are absolutely necessary to a just and confident ex- 
 pectation that complete protection will be afforded by it. 
 
 T
 
 274 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 We have supplied lymph to the array and navy, to the 
 Colonies, and to various parts of the Continent of Europe, 
 since our last account ; and our correspondence, which has 
 become more extensive than ever, bears us out in assuming 
 that there is no increase in the proportion of cases of small- 
 pox after vaccination, which affords an answer to questions 
 put to us repeatedly as-to the gradual diminution and wear- 
 ing out of She vaccine lymph by time ; for it does not appear 
 to us to be weakened or deteriorated by transmission through 
 any number of subjects in the course of any number of 
 years.
 
 275 
 
 PARRY. 
 
 CALEB HILLIER PARRY was born at Cirencester, 
 in Gloucestershire, on the 21st of October, 1755. 
 He was descended from an ancient and respectable 
 family in Pembrokeshire, which formerly had 
 considerable possessions in that county, and in 
 Carmarthenshire. This property became mucli 
 subdivided amongst twenty-one children, the de- 
 scendants of one parent ; but an elder branch of 
 the family still retains the hereditary estates of 
 Penderry and Portelew, and the late John Parry, 
 their owner, served the office of sheriff for his 
 own county, in the year 1771- 
 
 The Rev. Joshua Parry, father of Dr. Parry, 
 was a dissenting minister, distinguished alike tor 
 his knowledge and talents in an Augustan age of 
 literature, and for his loyalty in turbulent and 
 doubtful times. He was, during thirty years, the 
 intimate friend and correspondent of Allen, Lord 
 Bathurst, the Maecenas of the age ; and was con- 
 nected with Hawkesworth, Tucker, Doddridge, 
 Lewis, Scott, and many other eminent men. He 
 was an excellent classical, Welsh, and Hebrew 
 scholar, and an admired contributor to various 
 periodical publications. Hawkins, in his life of 
 Johnson, informs us, that he was one of the ori- 
 ginal writers in the Gentleman's Magazine, and 
 that " his head teemed with knowledge." A vo- 
 
 T2
 
 276 BIUTISII PHYSICIANS. 
 
 lunie of his sermons, and two detached sermons 
 against Popery, evince the purity of his style, and 
 the excellence of his moral and religious prin- 
 ciples. Numerous letters, addressed to Mr. Parry, 
 by his noble friend, and by many other celebrated 
 persons, still manifest the love and respect in 
 which he was held by all who had the pleasure of 
 his acquaintance, and the high opinion which they 
 entertained of his abilities, his acquirements, and his 
 moral qualities. This valuable individual died at 
 Cirencester, where he had always resided, in the 
 year 1776, at the age of fifty-seven. 
 
 Dr. Parry was the eldest of three sons and 
 seven daughters, the last survivor of whom was the 
 late Lady Hobhouse. His mother inherited 
 from her father, Mr. Caleb Hillier, the estates of 
 Upcote and Minety, and other lands in Glouces- 
 tershire, which descended to the subject of our 
 present memoir. Young Parry received the rudi- 
 ments of his education at the school of the Rev. 
 Mr. Washbourn at Cirencester, and there formed, 
 with the late Dr. Jenner, a friendship, which 
 during the remainder of their lives contributed to 
 the advantage and happiness of both. 
 
 In 1770, he was placed at the academy at "\Var- 
 rington, in Lancashire, where he became a general 
 favourite, as well from his disposition as from his 
 talents. Among his acquaintance, at this period, 
 may be mentioned the late Dr. Aikin, whose friend- 
 ship and correspondence he maintained arid valued 
 during many subsequent years. In a letter, ad- 
 dressed to his father, Mr. Parry is thus favourably 
 described by his tutor, the well-known Dr. Enfield : 
 " He has such an uncommon share of manlv
 
 PARRY. 277 
 
 sense, such a calmness of temper, and philoso- 
 phical firmness of mind, that I think he may 
 safely be trusted to the direction of his own mind. 
 Indeed, my dear sir, you have great reason to 
 think yourself happy in him. His genius, his 
 application, his disposition, all promise great 
 things. I hope neither your expectation, nor 
 mine, concerning him, will be disappointed." His 
 person is also thus described in a letter, written at 
 the same period : " He is more than ordinarily 
 tall for his years, and admirably well proportioned. 
 In his air and deportment there is a gravity that, 
 though he is not yet sixteen, he might very well 
 pass for twenty. He is very fair, has regular fea- 
 tures, and eyes the most penetrating, with an ex- 
 pression of great sweetness." 
 
 He continued at Warrington till 177-^ i' 1 which 
 year, having chosen the medical profession, he 
 commenced his studies at Edinburgh. In the 
 summer of 177>, he visited London, and during 
 two years resided chiefly with the late Dr. Den man. 
 He returned to Edinburgh in 1777, and graduated 
 in the month of June, 177^ being then in his 
 twenty-third year. As annual president, he was 
 greatly instrumental in procuring a royal charter 
 for the Medical Society, then recently instituted in 
 that city. His correspondence, relative to this 
 subject, with Dr. Robertson, the historian, and 
 principal of the university, is still preserved. 
 
 In October, 1778, Dr. Parry was united to Miss 
 Rigby, to whom he had formed au early attach- 
 ment at Warrington. This lady, the daughter of 
 John Rigby, Esq., of Lancaster, was no less cele- 
 brated for her beauty than for her amiable dispo-
 
 278 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 sition and engaging manners. The friendship and 
 admiration of Mrs. Barbauld dedicated to her 
 young friend several of the poems which she 
 was then publishing. The exquisite lines ad- 
 dressed " to Miss R. when attending her mother at 
 Buxton," exhibit the character and merits of 
 Mrs. Parry- Her mother, the daughter of Dr. 
 Taylor, well known as a Hebrew scholar, hy 
 his numerous writings, and from a portrait by 
 Houbraken, had been celebrated by the same 
 muse. 
 
 Shortly after his marriage, Dr. Parry proceeded 
 to the continent ; and having visited Holland, 
 Flanders, and France, took up his final residence 
 at Bath, in November, ] 779 ; and scarcely quitted 
 that city for a day during the remainder of his 
 useful and valuable life. 
 
 It has been remarked, that within a short period 
 after his settlement at Bath, Dr. Parry assumed a 
 high and commanding station, professional as well 
 as social. He became much distinguished by his 
 extensive and enlightened practice, by the hu- 
 manity of his character, and by the publication of 
 numerous medical writings. The profession of me- 
 dicine, which, at the early age of eighteen, he had 
 adopted from choice, he pursued through the 
 maturity and fulness of years, with a fondness and 
 ardour which ensured superiority and success. 
 Few individuals have, indeed, been more zealously 
 devoted to this pursuit, or have engaged in it with 
 a more intense desire of improving the science ; 
 or of augmenting its power as an instrument of 
 practical benefit to mankind. Few individuals have 
 been more incessantly occupied in its duties, or
 
 PARRY. 279 
 
 have been more rewarded by private attachment 
 and by public confidence. It is true that, like other 
 ardent minds, he felt some degree of early impa- 
 tience at the slow rate of professional advance- 
 ment, -and -even entertained some little doubt as to 
 the ultimate attainment of the desired success-. 
 Under these circumstances, the advice and expe- 
 rience of his esteemed friend, Dr. Demnan, were 
 readily communicated ; and while they exhibited 
 the warrantable grounds of hope, moderated al>o 
 the indulgence of premature and unjustifiable ex- 
 pectation. A letter, dated December 20, 17^ 
 says, " I heard, soon after your arrival at Bath, of 
 your determination to settle there, and as I had 
 always the best opinion of your judgment, had no 
 doubt but you had considered the likelihood of 
 getting forward in the profession. This, you 
 know, can only be done -either by powerful in- 
 terest, or by slow degrees, consequent to the 
 assiduous and able exercise of your profession. 
 You must not be dispirited if the attempts you 
 make often fail to answer your expectations. With 
 respect to myself, I assure you, it will give me 
 very sincere pleasure to contribute to your success." 
 A second letter, >dated October 1(5, 178-1, alludes 
 .to the same subject : "Since the time of your 
 first settling at Bath, I have ever borne in mind 
 the wish to serve you, if an opportunity offered. 
 There have been very few, but I have mentioned 
 you to several who have come down. I am not 
 surprised that you find your receipts come in 
 slowly at present, but all young practitioners 
 think, when they set up their standard, that the 
 world should .immediately flock to it, and they aro
 
 280 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 generally disturbed when they find the contrary. 
 But all business is progressive, and the steps now 
 taken may be so calculated as to produce their 
 effect ten years hence. There must be a vacancy 
 before we can get into business, and when there 
 rs T the competition must be equal in many points, 
 as age or standing, character for knowledge, 
 industry or readiness to exert our knowledge for 
 the good ef our patients, moral qualities, and 
 the like. On the whole, I do not know what 
 any man can do to get patients, but to qualify 
 himself for business, and then to introduce him- 
 self to the notice of those who are likely to 
 employ him. But it is hard to say, on what 
 hinge this matter may turn, as I see men, in 
 great business, of every disposition, or turn of 
 conduct, and with very different degrees of know- 
 ledge, and some, I think, with very little, but with 
 great appearance of it. What is very hard, and 
 yet I know two or three instances of it, is, that a 
 man shall be esteemed as a friend, acknowledged 
 to be a man of parts, but none of his friends think 
 of employing him in his profession. This I can 
 hardly explain, unless by the old observation, l he 
 is too good a poet to be a good physician.' You 
 have judged very wisely in getting appointed to 
 the Charit} 7 - It must do some good, though hardly 
 ever so much as is expected from it. I know not 
 why the late Dr. Fofrhergill said it was a bad thing. 
 With all that can be done, the progress of business 
 must be slow, and may depend upon circumstances 
 which no man can command ; but whatever hap- 
 pens, it is a point both of wisdom to the world, and 
 justice to one's selfj not to be put out of humour."
 
 PARRY. 281 
 
 This excellent advice had the best effect on Dr. 
 Parry's conduct. There were, however, still many 
 points connected with the practice of medicine 
 which, while they materially interfered with his 
 wish to improve the science, and confer all the 
 benefits of which he was capable, excited his sur- 
 prise, and at the same time, offended his integrity. 
 44 A great part," he says, " of the obstacles to the 
 improvement of the science of medicine originates 
 in the habit of self-indulgence, leading persons to 
 the gratification of present appetite, or the re- 
 moval of present suffering, with little or no consi- 
 deration of the future. Hence the whole wretched 
 system of temporizing which flatters the patient, 
 and is a disgrace to the profession. A man shall 
 be grossly ignorant of the whole science of medi- 
 cine, yet if he has a certain degree of assurance, 
 aided by an adequate number of fashionable phrases, 
 some speciousness in decorating mystery, with a 
 determined resolution of flattering his patients by 
 an appearance of great zeal and attachment, and 
 by confirming the good opinion which they enter- 
 tain of their own discernment in the choice of the 
 medicine and diet which they most like, that man 
 shall grow popular and rich under the hourly dere- 
 liction of every principle of truth, honour, and 
 conscience, and become accessory to the daily de- 
 struction of his fellow-creatures. This is the reason 
 why a large party of all ranks is always inclined 
 to favour the most uneducated of the medical pro- 
 fession ; and why the subordinate branches are 
 often preferred, even at an equal expense, to 
 the higher." 
 
 Notwithstanding these discouraging sentiments,
 
 282 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 Dr. Parry rose, by slow and sure degrees, into 
 fame and fortune. The acute feelings of disap- 
 pointment were for many years placed in abey- 
 ance, and the beneficial consequences of integ- 
 rity, industry, perseverance, and a readiness to 
 exert his extensive knowledge, were amply expe- 
 rienced at the period already assigned as his pro- 
 bationary term. The daily list of his patients, 
 kept from the year 1780 to Oct. 25, 1816, the day 
 which, by a paralytic seizure, terminated his career 
 of public Service, accurately records the opinion 
 which was entertained of his merits, and the ex- 
 tent of his professional emoluments. It appears 
 that during this period nearly the whole catalogue 
 of British nobility and many of the most distin- 
 guished men in the kingdom visited Bath for his 
 advice, and, in their preserved correspondence tes- 
 tify the benefits which they had received from his 
 skill and attention. Itmaynot be altogether without 
 interest and benefit to the junior members of the 
 profession, to lay before them the progressive in- 
 crease which appears to have taken place in Dr. 
 Parry's pecuniary profits. By exhibiting the effects 
 of perseverance and knowledge, in connexion with 
 a steady attention to those higher objects, the 
 inquiry after truth, and an unwearied performance 
 of all the duties of charity, such a view may pre- 
 serve many from unwarrantable expectation, and 
 encourage others under a despondence arising from 
 the inevitable delays and difficulties incident to 
 their professional entrance upon the world. 
 
 The receipts of Dr. Parry's first year, 1780, 
 were 3QL 19*.; of his second, 1781, 70 7 s > f 
 1782,-112/. 7*.; of 1783, 162/. 5*. ; 1784,
 
 PARKY. 283 
 
 239J. 5s. ; of 1785, 443^. 10s.; of 1786, 5521. 
 9*.; of 1787, 755Z. (.; of 1788, 1533/. 15*. 
 From tlic tenth year of his ] ractice, the amount 
 rapidly increased, and appears to have varied from 
 300/. to above 600/. per month. Of one day, the 
 receipts for separate attendances were fifty guineas. 
 That Dr. Parry's emoluments might have been 
 still more considerable appears from an important 
 fact, which is also deducible from the same source, 
 and which should be kept in mind by those who 
 would, in other respects, follow his meritorious 
 example. In the year 1805, besides a continued 
 service at public charities, he had given private 
 attendance to 30,000 indigent persons in the city 
 of Bath and its neighbourhood. At the com- 
 mencement of his career he had laid down a prin- 
 ciple, to which he rigorously adhered, never to 
 spare his own pains, nor to refuse his assistance in 
 cases where pecuniary compensation could not 
 easily be afforded. A table, in his own hand- 
 writing, gives a long list of those persons from 
 whom he invariably refused to take fees. 
 
 It is greatly to be lamented, that, in the medical 
 profession, the power of recording, and of commu- 
 nicating the results of experience is diminished 
 exactly in proportion to the increased opportunities 
 of observation. In the multiplicity of his daily 
 engagements, the eminent practitioner cannot find 
 the requisite leisure for arranging his facts and 
 opinions in such a manner as may best conduce to 
 the public benefit, or to the establishment of im- 
 portant principles. This regret must, in a great 
 degree, be connected with the circumstances in 
 which Dr. Parry was placed. It becomes, how-
 
 284 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 ever, a subject of surprise and admiration, that in 
 the midst of toil and anxiety, in health and in dis- 
 ease, he never deviated from the plan of recording 
 all that was interesting or important in his prac- 
 tice. At the bedside of his patient, in his car- 
 riage, in his walks, or at home, he kept a register 
 of all the facts which might be available to the 
 improvement of his knowledge, and to the confir- 
 mation of his doctrines or principles. In the pre- 
 face to his posthumous works, he alludes to this 
 circumstance. " It cannot be denied that the 
 profession of medicine labours under peculiar 
 disadvantages. The very multiplication of the 
 opportunities of knowledge so harasses and fati- 
 gues by the practice of the art, as often to afford 
 little leisure or inclination to cultivate and extend 
 the science. If to this rule there occur some ex- 
 ceptions, they depend not on any superiority of 
 mental talents, but on early habits of application, 
 on the force of motives, on the felicity of local 
 situation, and on the capacity of the body to en- 
 dure privation and labour without suffering that 
 langour which would impair the energy of the 
 mind. 
 
 " The business of man is not merely to eat, to 
 drink, to sleep, to enjoy sensual pleasures, and 
 then to lay himself down and die. Exclusively 
 of eternal concerns, every human being should 
 have one great and laudable end in life, which 
 should constitute his chief motive to action, and to 
 which, therefore, all his other occupations should 
 be subservient. Habits of this kind having been 
 long formed, whatever may be the nature of the 
 object in view, or however difficult its attainment, 
 the pursuit is no longer painful. On the contrary,
 
 PARUY. 285 
 
 the mind associates it with all other trains of 
 thought, reluctantly wanders from it, and returns 
 to it with delight, as to its native home. 
 
 " Feelings like these which have long made my 
 professional pursuits my greatest pleasure, aided 
 by the wish of emulating some great professional 
 names, and by a strong desire that the world may 
 be the better for me after I shall have left it for 
 ever, have supported me under the privation of 
 domestic and social gratifications, and under exer- 
 ions incessantly pursued through sickness, sorrow, 
 and pain. 
 
 " The great book of nature, which is alike open 
 to all, and is incapable of deceiving, I have hourly 
 read, and I trust not wholly in vain. During the 
 first twelve or fourteen years of my professional 
 life, I recorded almost every case which occurred 
 to me either in private practice or in the chief 
 conduct of an extensive charity. When, after- 
 wards, the multiplication of common examples 
 seemed to me an unnecessary waste of inestimable 
 time, which might be much more profitably em- 
 ployed, I contented myself with the more useful 
 task of recording chiefly such cases, or, on a few 
 occasions, such particular circumstances only of 
 cases as led to the establishment of principles. 
 This I have generally done on the spot, or rarely 
 deferred beyond the day of observation, always 
 rejecting what, on repeated and varied inquiry, I 
 have not been able fully to verify. 
 
 " Whatever inferences from phenomena have 
 suggested themselves to me, I have immediately 
 noted down, and afterwards carefully examined on 
 all sides, and in every light. By this method,
 
 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 which I strenuously recommend to all persons 
 engaged in scientific pursuits, whether physical or 
 moral, I have often been able to ascertain the 
 order of phenomena, and to catch new links 
 which have gone some way towards completing 
 the whole chain of causes and effects. 
 
 " Under these circumstances, I hare been able 
 to record a considerable number of dissections, 
 together with nearly seven hundred illustrative 
 cases, which chiefly serve as the basis of my in- 
 tended work. 
 
 " Far, however, am I from looking back on iny 
 professional life without considerable self-reproach 
 and regret. How often have opportunities been 
 neglected of ascertaining points essential to the 
 discovery of inestimable truths, for which my re- 
 cords are now searched in rain ! It may, perhaps, 
 be some excuse, that the error is common to me 
 with many others of mankind, who at an early 
 period of experimental investigation are ignorant 
 of what is wanting to the advancement of the 
 science which they profess." 
 
 The work to which allusion is here made was 
 a System of Pathology and Therapeutics, which 
 Dr. Parry had contemplated from an early period 
 of his professional life. Dissatisfied with many of 
 the principles which regulated the usual practice, 
 and with the want of success which too frequently 
 attended their adoption, he rejected many of the 
 doctrines of the schools, and determined to rely 
 upon his own observation and judgment. In his 
 first inquiries respecting the nature and affections 
 of the nervous system, he discovered much ob- 
 scurity, and much gratuitous assumption, which
 
 PARRY. 287 
 
 led to practical results always doubtful, and gene- 
 rally injurious. In tlie midst of these difficulties, 
 he was induced to examine the effects of the cir- 
 culating system, in its relation to many obscure 
 morbid affections of the brain and nerves. In this 
 system, he perceived a frequent and palpable 
 origin of that irritation which became an imme- 
 diate cause of many nervous affections ; and from 
 the management of the same system, derived a 
 new and more available means of relief than could 
 be obtained under the common doctrines and 
 practice. The first notice of Dr. Parry's observa- 
 tions on this subject appears in the Memoirs of 
 the London Medical Society, for 1788, in an 
 Essay to which their silver medal was adjudged. 
 This paper contains the first hints of a theory, 
 which it was the author's intention subsequently to 
 develop, at great length, on the subject of what 
 has been called " determination of blood " to va- 
 rious parts of the system : with a more particular 
 reference to its effects in the production of diseases 
 of the head, and of all those ^affections which are 
 denominated nervous. This doctrine became the 
 constant object of his attention, and while it 
 guided his practice, formed also the point towards 
 which were directed his collections of facts and 
 histories. On the same subject he addressed a 
 letter to the editors of the Analytical Review, and 
 in the Monthly Magazine of May and June, 1798, 
 vindicated his opinions against the arguments of 
 Mr. John Bell, in his General System of Anatomy. 
 Pursuing the same views, he published a paper in 
 the Philosophical Transactions of 1811, on the 
 Effects of Arterial Compression; and, in 1815,
 
 283 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 gave to the world an epitome of his opinions in 
 a first volume of " Elements of Pathology and 
 Therapeutics; or the Outlines of a Work intended 
 to ascertain the Nature, Causes, and most Effi- 
 cacious Modes of Prevention and Cure of the 
 greater number of the Diseases incidental to the 
 Human Frame, illustrated by numerous Cases and 
 Dissections." This first volume contained the ge- 
 neral pathology. In the preface, Dr. Parry says, 
 " The author of the following work has long been 
 in the habit of recording such facts connected with 
 the profession of medicine as have occurred to his 
 own observation, and have appeared to him calcu- 
 lated to amend received errors, or to suggest new 
 truths. These facts, it has been his intention to 
 arrange, as soon as a sufficient number should be 
 collected to admit of being disposed in a distinct 
 and consistent form. The immediate exigencies 
 of his profession have, however, so retarded the 
 accomplishment of this design, that he every day 
 sees announced, as novelties, opinions, which for 
 thirty years have formed the basis of his practice. 
 If, however, this anticipation may have occasioned 
 him some loss of credit, it has been fully compen- 
 sated by the advantage which the delay has af- 
 forded, of scrutinizing specious hypotheses, and 
 correcting hasty misconceptions. Sufficient time 
 has now been allowed for all the purposes of ob- 
 servation which the author can reasonably expect 
 to accomplish during what may remain to him of 
 physical and mental capacity : and he thinks that 
 he cannot employ his leisure better, than in giving 
 an epitome of his pathological and practical prin- 
 ciples ; reserving the recital of the very numerous
 
 PARRY. 289 
 
 cases and dissections, which are the proofs of those 
 principles, for a much larger work, which he has 
 long meditated, and which he still hopes that he 
 may he ahle one day to accomplish." This first 
 volume of " General Pathology " was intended to 
 precede a second, including " General Therapeu- 
 tics." The larger work would have comprehended 
 the special application of his principles and opinions 
 to the various diseases of the human frame. In 
 the midst of health and activity, Dr. Parry was, 
 in 18J6, arrested by the hand of disease, and thus 
 terminated his career of public service and utility. 
 It may be considered a fortunate circumstance, 
 that the fears and anticipations of his friends had 
 induced him to address his serious thoughts to the 
 preparation of an epitome of his opinions. The 
 public would otherwise have been deprived even 
 of this imperfect gift, and the exertions and ex- 
 perience of an active life would have been com- 
 paratively thrown away. Little, indeed, would 
 have remained to do justice to his own memory, or 
 to vindicate his claims and practice against the 
 charges Avhich ignorance is apt to lay against in- 
 novation, and the appearance of superiority. 
 
 During the previous years, Dr. Parry had, 
 it is true, become the author of other medical 
 works. In 1799, he published an " Inquiry into the 
 Symptoms and Causes of the Syncope Anginosa, 
 commonly called Angina Pectoris, illustrated by 
 Dissections ;" in which, after examining into the 
 causes of idiopathic syncope in general, he draws 
 the following conclusions, with regard to this par- 
 ticular disease. I. That it is a case of syncope, 
 preceded by notable anxiety or pain in the region 
 
 u
 
 290 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 of the heart. II. That the tendency to this dis- 
 order arises from mal-organization in the heart 
 itself; which mal-organization seems to be chiefly 
 induration of the coronary arteries. III. That this 
 mal-organization acts by diminishing the energy of 
 the heart. IV. That the chief symptoms of the dis- 
 ease are the effects of blood retarded and accumu- 
 lated in the cavities of the heart and neighbouring 
 large vessels. V. That the causes exciting the 
 paroxysms are those which produce this accumu- 
 lation; (1) by mechanical pressure, (2) by stimu- 
 lating, in an excessive degree, the circulating 
 system. VI. That, after a certain approach towards 
 quiescence, the heart may recover its irritability, 
 so as again to carry on the circulation in a more 
 or less perfect degree, from the operation of the 
 usual stimuli ; but, VII. That death may at length 
 ensue from a remediless degree of inirritability in 
 the heart. 
 
 In the year 1809, Dr. Parry published, in the 
 Edinburgh Medical and Surgical Journal, "Ob- 
 servations on the Utility of Venesection in Pur- 
 pura," which he considered to be " of the nature 
 of what are called active haemorrhages ; since it 
 matters not, in a pathological view, whether febrile 
 extravasation of blood takes place from the rup- 
 ture or gaping of an artery, in the cellular mem- 
 brane, in the skin, or on the surface of the 
 epithelion in the nose, fauces, or bronchia." The 
 cases adduced " strengthened an opinion which he, 
 more than twenty years before, maintained, and 
 which a large subsequent experience had tended 
 to confirm, that in various diseases, among which 
 may be reckoned inflammations, profluvia, haemor-
 
 PARRY. 291 
 
 rhages, dropsies, exanthemata, and other cutaneous 
 eruptions, and even the generality of nervous 
 affections, there is one circumstance, in common, 
 which is an over-distension of certain blood ves- 
 sels, arising, probably, from their relative want of 
 tone, or the due contraction of their muscular 
 fibres." 
 
 In the year 1814, Dr. Parry published Cases of 
 Tetanus and Rabies Contagiosa, having adopted 
 the latter term in preference to that of hydrophobia, 
 which he considered an improper designation, as 
 applicable only to a single symptom of this formi- 
 dable disease, " without the existence of which the 
 patient would as certainly, and probably as soon 
 die, as when it exists in the greatest degree." He 
 showed that the part primarily affected is not the 
 pharynx, oesophagus, or stomach, but the upper 
 portion of the trachea, together with other parts of 
 the apparatus concerned in the function of respira- 
 tion. He considered the characteristic circum- 
 stances to be a local spasm, and convulsive action 
 of the respiratory organs ; an inordinate action 
 of the voluntary muscles, whether from a per- 
 verted function of the brain, or a want of power in 
 the muscles themselves precisely to obey the will. 
 There cannot, he thinks, be a greater mistake 
 than to suppose, either that the fever of hydro-- 
 phobia is of the inflammatory kind, or that its 
 peculiar symptom arises from local inflammation 
 of the fauces, the cardia, or any other part. 
 While from experience and analogy he discovers 
 no guide to practice, and believes that all means 
 have hitherto been ineffectual in the true canine 
 hydrophobia, which he considers to be the effect 
 
 u2
 
 292 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 of a poison introduced into the system, be is of 
 opinion that the only security lies in the preven- 
 tion of the disease, by the excision of the bitten 
 part at any period before constitutional symp- 
 toms have commenced. In this work, as in his 
 S} 7 ncope Anginosa, the chief object was to esta- 
 blish pathognomic distinctions by which the 
 nature and symptoms of the disease might be 
 accurately determined, as the safest guides for the 
 adoption of remedial measures, more perfect and 
 effectual. 
 
 In 1816, Dr. Parry published his last medical 
 work, " An Experimental Inquiry into the Nature, 
 Causes, and Varieties of the Arterial Pulse, and 
 into certain other properties of the large Arteries 
 in Animals with warm blood." This work, im- 
 portant in its application to physiology, pathology, 
 and surgery, leads to conclusions as to the usual 
 state and relative proportions of the moving powers 
 of arteries very different from those of preceding 
 physiologists. While the experiments fully prove 
 a power of dilatation and contraction not only to 
 exist, but to be owing to a cause partly mechanical, 
 elasticity and partly vital, or what the author 
 calls tonicity, he shows that the power which in 
 muscles is called irritability, is entirely wanting in 
 the arterial tubes, which suffer no degree of con- 
 traction from the application of a great variety of 
 chemical and mechanical agents, called stimuli. 
 They further show, that, in the larger arteries, 
 there is no sensible dilatation or contraction from 
 the systole and diastole of the left ventricle of the 
 heart, and therefore that the pulse cannot depend 
 on that alternation; that the chief cause of the
 
 PARRY. 293 
 
 pulse is a strong and predominant impulse of dis- 
 tension from the systole of the left ventricle of the 
 heart, given by the blood as it passes through any 
 portion of an artery forcibly contracted within its 
 natural diameter ; and that the visible pulse is 
 sometimes owing to a locomotion of the vessel, 
 unconnected with contraction and dilatation. 
 
 Dr. Parry's experiments also demonstrate the 
 curious fact of an entire reproduction of the larger 
 arteries, in cases where large portions of the caro- 
 tids in sheep had been cut out, or where the arte- 
 ries had been tied by ligatures. 
 
 The various doctrines and opinions of this au- 
 thor have been, as it was natural to expect, sub- 
 jected to the severe tests of critical scrutiny and 
 examination. The last effort of his pen was a 
 reply to the observations of Dr. Wilson Philip, 
 in a Letter addressed, 1816, to the Editor of the 
 " Medical and Chirurgical Review." A consi- 
 deration of the objections and arguments which 
 have been opposed to Dr. Parry's doctrines appears 
 in a work of his son, published in 1819, and en- 
 titled, " Additional Experiments on the Arteries ;" 
 and more particularly in a preface and introductory 
 volume to the posthumous writings of Dr. Parry, 
 published by the same editor, in 1825. Without 
 wishing to enforce an entire and unqualified defer- 
 ence to the opinions of his father, this latter author 
 considers himself " excused for an attempt, in 
 connexion with the rep ubli cation of Dr. Parry's 
 former works, and the publication of much new 
 matter, to rescue him from objections which ap- 
 pear to have been advanced in haste, in ignorance, 
 or in error." In this preface, an account is given
 
 294 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 of the heterogeneous materials which were left in 
 the editor's hands, and of the principle on which a 
 selection for publication was made. However 
 true it may be, that these posthumous fragments 
 confer no additional reputation on their author, 
 and that they fall short of the expectations of the 
 public, it has never been denied that they supply 
 an ample store of valuable materials for reflection, 
 and abundant hints that may assist the future 
 labourers in the wide field of medical inquiry. 
 Amongst these imperfect records, Dr. Parry's pre- 
 face to his intended volume, which appears in a 
 more complete form, may, perhaps, be considered 
 one of his most important productions. It consists 
 of an inquiry into the nature of human knowledge, 
 and the means of attaining it; and into the me- 
 chanism of cause and effect, with a particular re- 
 ference to the science of medicine. It was his 
 opinion, that "above all, it is essentially requisite 
 that the physician should learn the art of reason- 
 ing, or that facility of distinguishing or rightly 
 classing ideas which must necessarily flow from 
 the habitual application of the mental faculties to 
 various branches of science, and which he who 
 has been merely occupied with what is called the 
 practice of the profession, can rarely hope to 
 possess." 
 
 As a practitioner, he was distinguished by a 
 clear insight into the nature of various maladies, 
 by promptness and decision in their treatment, 
 and by a marked humility and kindness to his 
 patients. In his professional connexions and 
 relations he was eminently liberal, and, at the 
 same time, independent. While he treated his
 
 PARRY. 295 
 
 medical brethren and his patients with candour 
 and deference, he would submit to no improper 
 dictation ; nor, for the purpose of retaining a 
 friend, or of conciliating a foe, submit to any 
 measure which was inconsistent with the strictest 
 integrity. In his opinion, the qualities of the 
 gentleman and really honest man were neces- 
 sarily associated in the character of the perfect 
 physician. 
 
 Though the subject of our memoir was widely 
 known and estimated in this his principal ca- 
 pacity, it is perhaps true, that he was no less 
 celebrated as one of the most scientific agricul- 
 turists of his day. " As a lover of agricultural 
 objects, he was rewarded by the distinctions of 
 many societies, and cultivated as a friend or as a 
 correspondent by men of all ranks, the most emi- 
 nent for their practical or theoretical acquaintance 
 with the diversified subjects of natural and moral 
 economy." In the years 1786-7 he became pos- 
 sessor of a farm in the neighbourhood of Bath, 
 and within a walk of his town residence. It was 
 impossible for a mind, constituted as his, to pur- 
 sue the routine, and to witness the effects, of agri- 
 cultural operations, without attending, at the same 
 time, to the principles w r hich regulate the science, 
 and which should direct the practice. Hence every 
 walk to his farm, intended as a means of occasional 
 relaxation from severe professional pursuits, gave 
 occasion to some interesting investigation ; and 
 every crop became the source of inquiry into the 
 means of additional increase, or of economical 
 improvement. Among other subjects which at an 
 early period came under Dr. Parry's consideration,
 
 296 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 an inquiry as to the most profitable kind of stock, 
 with reference to his own circumstances of soil and 
 situation, engaged his principal attention. After a 
 cautious examination of the question, he decided in 
 favour of a breed of sheep which, by its hardiness, 
 should not require peculiar care or expense of food, 
 and by the superiority of its fleece, should more 
 than counterbalance any possible deficiencies of 
 weight or carcass. In the second part of his Essay 
 on the Merino Sheep (p. 97,) to which the Board of 
 Agriculture adjudged their highest premium, Dr. 
 Parry has, at considerable length, given the history 
 of his flock, and his original views in regard to it. 
 This account is particularly interesting as connect- 
 ing his name with those of several individuals of 
 the highest rank, who had then conceived the de- 
 sign of introducing into this kingdom, upon an 
 extended scale, the breed of fine-woolled sheep. 
 From this period, during the remainder of an active 
 life, this specific object was pursued by Dr. Parry 
 with consummate skill, and with unwearied assi- 
 duity. That his endeavours were successful, is 
 manifest from the event of the frequent competi- 
 tions in which he was engaged with the breeders 
 and manufacturers of the finest home and foreign 
 wools and cloths, and from the various prizes 
 which, during many successive years, were awarded 
 to his exhibitions. In the year 1800, his late 
 Majesty accepted a piece of blue cloth manufac- 
 tured from Dr. Parry's wool, and declared that, 
 from its excellent quality, he should feel a pride in 
 wearing it. In 1813, the Prince Regent and the 
 Duke of Clarence also gratified Dr. Parry by 
 accepting, the former a piece of scarlet, the latter
 
 PARRY. 297 
 
 of navy-blue cloth ; both of which they highly 
 commended, and expressed their determination to 
 wear, as a credit to the British grower and manu- 
 facturer. 
 
 The following is, it is feared, an imperfect list 
 of Dr. Parry's various agricultural writings. 
 
 In the volumes of the Bath and West of Eng- 
 land Society are the following papers : 
 
 Vol. III. (1786, 1791.) Experiments and Ob- 
 servations on English Rhubarb. 
 
 Vol. V. (1794.) An Essay on the Cultivation 
 and Value of the Cichoreum Intybus, or Wild 
 Endive. 
 
 Vol. IX. (1799.) Account of a Prize Crop of 
 Cabbages. 
 
 Vol. X. (1805.) Two Addresses on the subjects 
 of improved Sheep by the Spanish Mixture, their 
 Wool, and its Value in Superfine Cloth, &c. 
 
 Vol. XI. Six various Papers : 
 
 (1) A Letter containing further Observations 
 on Wool. 
 
 (2) An Inquiry whether the pure Merino Breed 
 of Sheep is now necessary in order to maintain 
 the Growth of Superfine Wool in Great Britain. 
 
 (3) Tables of the Female Descendants from 
 One Hundred Shearling Ewes, during Twenty 
 Years. 
 
 (4) An Inquiry into the Causes of the Decay of 
 Wood, and the means of preventing it. 
 
 (5) Correspondence relative to a very fertile 
 Piece of Land at Wantage, in Berkshire, with 
 remarks. 
 
 (6) Additional Observations on the Crossing 
 of Animals.
 
 298 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 The following Papers, by Dr. Parry, were pub- 
 lished in the " Farmer's Journal : " 
 
 Vol. V., No. 255, Aug. 17, 1812. On Purity 
 of Blood, and on Growing Fine Wool. 
 
 No. 257, Aug. 31, 1812. On Purity of 
 
 Blood. 
 
 No. 260, Sept. 21, 1812. On Wool, and 
 
 the Causes that affect its Quality and Quantity 
 on the same Sheep. 
 
 Vol. VI., No. 262, Oct. 5, 1812. fOn the Ques- 
 tion whether the Merinos are a Pure Breed, and on 
 the Effects produced by Crossing. 
 
 No. 265, Oct. 26, 1812. On the Effects 
 
 of Food, Fear, and Habit on Animals, and of the 
 Agency of Man, illustrated by the English Race- 
 Horse. 
 
 No. 266, Nov. 2, 1812. Observations on 
 
 the English Race-Horse. Crossing beneficial in 
 other Animals and Man. 
 
 No. 272, Dec. 14, 1812. On the Merino 
 
 Subject. 
 
 In the Bath Herald, Nov. 1, 1804, Dr. Parry 
 published a long defence of his friend, Lord So- 
 merville, in answer to an attack there made upon 
 him, with regard to the subject of his flock. 
 
 In the year 1800, Dr. Parry published a sepa- 
 rate work, entitled " Facts and Observations tend- 
 ing to show the Practicability and Advantage of 
 producing, in the British Isles, Clothing Wool 
 equal to that of Spain :" and in the year 1807, 
 the Board of Agriculture published, in their 
 Transactions, an Essay on the Nature, Produce, 
 Origin, and Extension of the Merino Breed of 
 Sheep ; to which they had awarded their premium
 
 PARRY. 299 
 
 of 50/. The Report of the Board, through their 
 secretary, Arthur Young, is as follows : " The 
 author divides his memoir into two parts ; the first 
 contains an historical and descriptive account of 
 Spanish sheep, and their establishment in the va- 
 rious countries to which they have been sent. 
 (This is the most interesting and complete ac- 
 count I have met with. A. Y.") The second 
 part contains the history of his own flock and 
 practice, and includes in it the whole business of 
 breeding, food, management, wool, carcass, sale, 
 and distempers, with observations on the means of 
 spreading the race. It is a most able and highly 
 satisfactory production, and will do honour to the 
 author who composed it, and to the Board, if they 
 shall publish it. A. Y. 
 
 On the 28th of November, 1808, the following 
 resolution was adopted by the Farming Society of 
 Ireland " Resolved, that Caleb Hillier Parry, 
 M. D., F. R. S., be, and he is hereby elected, an 
 honorary member of this society, in testimony of 
 our respect for the author of the useful and inge- 
 nious Essay on the Nature, Produce, Origin, and 
 Extension of the Merino Breed of Sheep." 
 
 Dr. Parry took particular delight in horticulture ; 
 and very voluminous MSS. indicate the minute 
 attention which he paid to the varieties and im- 
 provement of fruit-trees, and to every other subject 
 connected with the cultivation and management of 
 a garden. 
 
 It has been truly said, that, for many years, 
 Dr. Parry was more allied to the public by the 
 variety of his other accomplishments and pursuits, 
 than by those of his immediate profession. It
 
 300 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 would not be easy to adduce an instance of higher 
 endowments, whether we look for the resources 
 and refinements of ordinary society, or the more 
 profound attainments of intellectual and cultivated 
 life. His intimate acquaintance with the arts of 
 music, poetry, and painting, and his enthusiasm 
 with regard to each of these subjects, are well 
 remembered by those who knew him. From their 
 cultivation he derived solace and amusement after 
 many a weary day of toil and anxiety. 
 
 In all subjects of natural history he was particu- 
 larly interested, and had made extensive collections 
 of minerals, rocks, and organic remains. Whilst 
 the sciences to which these related were yet in their 
 infancy, he had amassed materials which would 
 have grown into volumes, and have supplied impor- 
 tant records in the history of these favourite depart- 
 ments of inquiry. In 1781 he published " Propo- 
 sals for a History of the Fossils of Gloucestershire," 
 the introduction to which was intended to include 
 all that was known on the subject of organic re- 
 mains, and the result of many experiments and ob- 
 servations in which he had been long and ardently 
 engaged. His increasing avocations suspended, 
 and finally prevented, the completion of this work ; 
 but his remaining MSS. are a sufficient proof of 
 his industry, knowledge, and discrimination. 
 
 Dr. Parry was an indefatigable reader. Besides 
 a continued attention to more severe subjects, he 
 had an intense pleasure in the perusal of works 
 relating to history, voyages, and travels. Of the 
 latter, particularly, there was scarcely a published 
 volume with which he was not familiar. With the 
 classical poets and ancient dramatists of England
 
 PARRY. 301 
 
 he was thoroughly conversant. Amongst his last 
 writings was an Essay on the Character of Hamlet, 
 which, even in the midst of an afflicting illness, he 
 dictated to his daughters. 
 
 His accurate acquaintance with the history and 
 relations of his own and other countries had ren- 
 dered him the esteemed friend and correspondent 
 of Burke and of Wmdham. Letters, addressed 
 to the latter, on the internal defence of Great 
 Britain at the time of a threatened invasion, and on 
 the recommendation of spearmen or lancers, and 
 light artillery, are still in existence. His insight 
 into our commercial relations is evinced by a 
 series of letters which point out the importance 
 of our South American trade, particularly that of 
 the colonies of Demerara, Essequibo, and Berbice ; 
 and which, in 1796, were published in the " Sun," 
 under the signature " Nereus." As a metaphy- 
 sician, few individuals possessed a clearer head, or 
 a more profound judgment. Many MSS. remain 
 which exhibit his own originality, his admiration 
 of Locke, and the low esteem in which he gene- 
 rally held the philosophy of the Scotch school. 
 
 Dr. Parry's correspondence was very extensive, 
 as well on the subject of medicine, as of agricul- 
 ture, gardening, and other topics. Many ad- 
 mirable letters, addressed to two of his sons, who 
 were spending three or four years on the Continent, 
 and to his youngest son, in the navy, indicate 
 his paternal care and affection, and the value of 
 his -precepts and advice. 
 
 In person Dr. Parry was remarkably handsome. 
 With much dignity of manner he united a certain 
 playfulness, which, while through life it had
 
 302 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 invigorated and charmed his domestic circle, 
 scarcely deserted him under the severest trials 
 and amidst the heaviest afflictions. His miscel- 
 laneous reading, extensive knowledge of men and 
 manners, and an excellent memory, supplied, in 
 his intercourse with society, a constant fund of 
 amusing anecdote, and of appropriate allusion. 
 From an intimate acquaintance with many cele- 
 brated military and naval characters, he had be- 
 come remarkably conversant with the details and 
 adventures of their profession ; and scarcely a 
 battle had occurred during the preceding century, 
 with the minute circumstances of which he was 
 not acquainted. In the " Athenaeum," (vol. v.) 
 for April, 1809, is a Letter, which states the 
 claims of his friend, Lord Rodney, to the inven- 
 tion of breaking the line. During a severe illness, 
 of nearly six years' duration, he amused himself 
 with dictating anecdotes of many distinguished 
 friends and contemporaries, which might well de- 
 serve a place in a more extended memoir. 
 
 Dr. Parry was an early member of the Bath and 
 West of England Society of Agriculture, Arts, 
 Manufactures, and Commerce (1780). As a 
 member of its committees, as a contributor to its 
 volumes, and as a successful candidate for its pre- 
 miums, he was, for many years, one of its prin- 
 cipal supporters. In 1797, he was elected a 
 vice-president, and in 1817 was honoured with 
 the gold Bedford medal, as a mark of esteem and 
 gratitude for many past services. In 1782 he was 
 chosen a governor of the Bath General Hospital : 
 in 1800, elected a fellow of the Royal Society : 
 in 1801, a member of the Society of Natural His-
 
 PARRY. 303 
 
 tory at Gb'ttingen, (Physische Gesellschaft) : in 
 1808, an honorary member of the Farming Society 
 of Ireland : and in 1814, a vice-president of the 
 Merino Society of London. 
 
 Dr. Parry had four sons and five daughters ; of 
 the former, the illustrious navigator, Captain Sir 
 William Edward Parry, R. N., is the youngest. 
 
 Dr. Parry died at his house in Sion Place, Bath, 
 on the 9th of March, 1822, having removed thither 
 from his usual residence, the Circus, in April, 
 1817. On the 25th of October, 181 6, he had been 
 afflicted with a paralytic attack, which deprived 
 him of the use of his right side ; and during the 
 remainder of his life, a period of nearly six years, 
 rendered his speech imperfect, and almost unintel- 
 ligible. Though his existence was become a state 
 of complicated bodily disease and suffering, his 
 mental activity never deserted him. He occupied 
 himself in reading during many hours of the day, 
 and marked every interesting passage that occurred 
 to him. From these he caused the most valuable 
 parts to be transcribed by his daughters, and in 
 this manner formed several volumes of useful and 
 miscellaneous information. His professional life 
 being ended, his chief occupation and amusement 
 now consisted in his farm and in his gardens the 
 entire direction and management of which he 
 undertook. Under these circumstances, he dic- 
 tated the collection of anecdotes and reminiscences 
 to which allusion has above been made ; and on 
 the arrival of his son. Captain Parry, from his 
 first expedition to Melville Island, he revised the 
 whole of his First Journal, previously to its being 
 submitted to publication.
 
 304 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 It has been truly said, that " Dr. Parry was a 
 sincere believer in Christianity, an excellent hus- 
 band, father, and friend, devoted to his king, 
 and firmly attached to the constitution of his 
 country." 
 
 No one in his sphere died more regretted. 
 Many of his friends, and a very numerous assem- 
 blage of his professional brethren, at their own 
 request, attended his venerated remains to their 
 grave in the Abbey. The latter caused a hand- 
 some monument, bearing the following inscription, 
 to be erected to his memory. 
 
 H. S. E. 
 
 CALEB HILLIER PARRY, M. D., R. S. S. 
 
 Vir probus 
 
 Cultor Dei pius 
 
 Medicus sagax. 
 
 Artem qua pollebat, 
 
 In h&c urbe per annos fere XL 
 
 Ingenio, moribus, 
 Multiplici literarum cognitione, 
 
 Exornavit : 
 
 Sciential, naturae indagatione perspicaci, 
 
 Feliciter promovit. 
 
 Ne tanto nomini 
 
 Ulla pars observantiae 
 
 Desideraretur, 
 
 Amici, eadem arte consociati, 
 Hor marmor 
 
 P. C. 
 
 Vixit annos LXVL, Obt. IX. die mens. Mart. 
 A. S. 1822.
 
 305 
 
 G C H, 
 
 ROBERT GOOCH Avas born at Yarmouth, in Norfolk, 
 in June, 1784. His father Avas, early in life, a 
 master in the Royal Navy, and afterwards com- 
 manded a vessel in the merchant service. The 
 circumstances of his parents were not such as to 
 enahle them to give their son the advantages of a 
 classical education : he was sent as a day scholar 
 to a school kept by a Mr. Nicholls, Avhere he Avas 
 taught Avriting and arithmetic. As a boy he Avas 
 active and brave, though not strong ; his disposition 
 Avas affectionate, and he Avas much beloved by his 
 early associates ; some of his school-boy intimacies 
 continued to the time of his death. He was not 
 remarkable for early proficiency : neither quick- 
 ness of apprehension nor retentiveness of memory 
 seemed to distinguish him from ordinary boys. 
 When about fifteen years of age he AA-as appren- 
 ticed to Mr. Borrett, a surgeon and apothecary at 
 Yarmouth. At this time he began the study of 
 Latin, and Avith little or no assistance from others 
 taught himself to read that language with tolerable 
 facility. 
 
 Among some loose papers of his, on the subject 
 of dreams, occurs the folloAving passage, Avhich 
 gives so lively an image of this period of his life, 
 that it must not be omitted. 
 
 " From the age of fifteen to twenty-one I Avas 
 
 x
 
 306 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 an apprentice to a country surgeon, and when I 
 had nothing else to do, no pills to roll, nor mix- 
 tures to compose, I used, by the advice of my 
 master, to go up into my bed-room, and there, 
 with Cheselden before me, learn the anatomy of the 
 bones by the aid of some loose ones, together with 
 a whole articulated skeleton, which hung up in a 
 box at the foot of my bed. It was some time be- 
 fore I overcame the awe with which I used to 
 approach this formidable personage. At first, even 
 by daylight, I liked to have s me one in the room 
 during my interviews with him ; and at night, 
 when I laid down in my bed and beheld the 
 painted door which inclosed him, I was often 
 obliged to make an effort to think of something 
 else. One summer night, at my usual hour of 
 retiring to rest, I went up to my bed-room, it was 
 in the attic story, and overlooked the sea, not a 
 quarter of a mile off. It was a bright moonlight 
 night, the air was sultry ; and after undressing I 
 stood for some time at my window, looking out on 
 the moonlight sea, and watching a white sail which 
 now and then passed. I shall never have such 
 another bed-room, so high up, so air}', and com- 
 manding such a prospect ; or, probably, even if I 
 had, it would never again look so beautiful, for 
 then was the spring-time of my life, when the gloss 
 of novelty was fresh on all the objects which sur- 
 rounded me. and I looked with unmingled hope 
 upon the distant world. Now but I am rambling 
 from my story. I went to bed, the moonlight 
 which fell bright into my room showed me dis- 
 tinctly the panelled door behind which hung my 
 silent acquaintance ; I could not help thinking of
 
 coocn. 307 
 
 him I tried to think of something else Lut in 
 vain. I shut my eyes, and began to forget my- 
 self, when, whether I was awake or asleep, or 
 between both, I cannot tell but suddenly I felt 
 two bony hands grasp my ancles, and pull me 
 down the bed ; if it had been real it could not 
 have been more distinct. For some time, how long 
 I cannot tell, I almost fainted with terror, but 
 when I came to myself, I began to observe how I 
 was placed : if what I had felt had been a reality, 
 I must have been pulled half-way out of the bed, 
 but I found myself lying with my head on my 
 pillow, and my body in the same place and atti- 
 tude as when I shut my eyes to go to sleep. At 
 this moment this is the only proof which 1 have 
 that it was not a reality, but a dream." 
 
 An accidental acquaintance with a gentleman 
 of the name of Harley, which took place at this 
 time, had a great and lasting influence on Gooch's 
 character. Mr. Harley was about thirty years of 
 age, and nearly blind ; he was fond of rending, 
 and from the state of his eyes dependent upon 
 others for his literary enjoyments. His studies 
 were miscellaneous history, chemistry, some- 
 times medicine, and very often metaphysics. 
 Gooch used to pass most of his evenings in read- 
 ing aloud to Mr. Harley. Amongst the books so 
 read were Bishop Berkeley's Works, Hartley, 
 and Hume's Essays. Mr. Harley used to discuss 
 the subjects of their reading with his young 
 friend, and being a man of acute intellect, ho 
 called into action those faculties of mind in \\bich 
 Gooch was by nature most gifted. At a com- 
 paratively early age he became accustomed to 
 
 x 2
 
 308 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 reason on abstract subjects, and to take nothing 
 for granted : unquestionably this was not without 
 its disadvantages and dangers, but had it not 
 been for his accidental acquaintance with Harley, 
 Gooch might perhaps have neglected altogether 
 the cultivation of his reasoning powers at the time 
 of life when that cultivation is most important ; so 
 fully impressed was he with this fact, that he 
 always felt grateful to Mr. Harley ; paid him every 
 attention during life, and bequeathed him WOl. 
 at his death, as a proof of his regard. When, in 
 the autumn of 1824, Gooch revisited Yarmouth, 
 after an absence of many years, his attention to 
 his early friend was most marked. The evening 
 of his arrival he was eager to call upon him, and 
 when it was suggested, that it was late and dark, 
 he exclaimed, that he could find the house blind- 
 fold : he groped his way down the narrow rows, 
 and recognized with delight the old broken brass 
 knocker, which remained unchanged. 
 
 While Gooch was with Mr. Borrett the attack 
 upon Copenhagen took place, and on the return of 
 Lord Nelson, the wounded were placed in the Na- 
 val Hospital at Yarmouth. Being acquainted with 
 some of the young surgeons, Gooch, though then 
 but "a boy, was not unfrequently at the hospital. 
 " I was (he says in a letter written long afterwards) 
 at the Naval hospital at Yarmouth, on the morn- 
 ing when Nelson, after the battle at Copenhagen, 
 (having sent the wounded before him,) arrived at 
 the roads and landed on the jutty. The populace 
 soon surrounded him, and the military were drawn 
 up in the market-place ready to receive him, but, 
 making his way through the dust, and the crowd,
 
 GOOCH. 309 
 
 and the clamour, he went straight to the hospital. 
 I went round the wards with him, and was much 
 interested in observing his demeanour to the 
 sailors : he stopped at every bed, and to every 
 man he had something kind and cheering to say ; 
 at length he stopped opposite a bed on which a 
 sailor was lying, who had lost his right arm close 
 to the shoulder joint, and the following short dia- 
 logue passed between them. Nelson ' "Well, 
 Jack, what's the matter with you ? ' Sailor ' Lost 
 my right arm, your honour.' Nelson paused, 
 looked down at his own empty sleeve, then at the 
 sailor, and said, playfully, ' Well, Jack, then you 
 and I are spoiled for fishermen cheer up, my 
 brave fellow !* And he passed briskly on to the 
 next bed; but these few words had a magical 
 effect upon the poor fellow, for I saw his eyes 
 sparkle with delight as Nelson turned away and 
 pursued his course through the wards." 
 
 Gooch, while occasionally visiting the Naval 
 Hospital, became acquainted with Mr. Tupper, (af- 
 terwards an eminent practitioner in London,) who 
 was then connected with the Government Hospitals 
 at Yarmouth. This gentleman was more advanced 
 in his medical education than Gooch, having at- 
 tended the Borough hospitals. He possessed a 
 manuscript copy of Mr. Astley Cooper's Lectures, 
 which he lent to his young friend, by whom they 
 were eagerly transcribed. Little at that time 
 could he have anticipated the probability of 
 coming, at a comparatively early period of life, 
 into contact with the leading practitioners of his 
 age, and taking his place amongst them upon no 
 unequal footing; still less that he should pass
 
 310 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 aivav before them, ripe in fame, but immature in 
 years " Nescia mens hominum fati," and happy 
 are we in our ignorance. 
 
 Before he removed from Mr. Borrett's, Gooch 
 became acquainted with Mr. William Taylor, of 
 Norwich, a man whose name is indissolubly con- 
 nected with the literature of his age, and who has 
 al\vays delighted in assisting with his counsels, his 
 librar}-, and his purse, young men to whom na- 
 ture had been more bountiful than fortune, and in 
 whom he thought he could discover promise of 
 future excellence. If he was sometimes mistaken, 
 he was not so in Gooch's case, and theirs was a 
 life-long intimacy. Notwithstanding the limited 
 circumstances of Gooch's family, aggravated by 
 the detention of his father in a French prison, 
 great sacrifices were made by his mother and an 
 aunt, advanced in years, in order to send him to 
 Edinburgh ; and with scanty means he arrived 
 there, landing from a Leith smack in October, 
 1804. He was known only to one person in 
 Edinburgh, Mr. Henry Southey, who was a 
 year his senior at that university, and to him 
 he came, as it were, consigned. They had been 
 acquainted, as boys, at Yarmouth. At this time, 
 Gooch was remarkably shy, and rather helpless in 
 worldly matters ; it was in fact his first flight from 
 home, and he felt that everything around him 
 was new and strange. A few weeks reconciled 
 him to his new situation, and no one ever entered 
 upon his academical studies with a more fixed 
 determination to profit by the advantages which 
 the place afforded. During the first season he 
 rarely, if ever, missed a lecture : he attended the
 
 GOOCII. 311 
 
 Royal Infirmary, and became a member of the 
 Medical and Speculative Societies. In these 
 societies lie very soon acquired the power of ex- 
 pressing himself with tolerable facility; but be 
 spoke much better the second year than the first, 
 and before the end of the third session, few men 
 were more formidable debaters. He never affected - 
 to declaim, but he was a close reasoner, and a 
 most unsparing opponent. On one occasion, 
 when a medical coxcomb had written a paper, as 
 full of pretension as it was void of merit, Gooch 
 so severely handled him in the debate, that he 
 burst into tears, and left the meeting. Though, at 
 this part of his life, he was in private society 
 remarkably shy in the company of strangers, in 
 public speaking he was perfectly confident and 
 self-possessed. 
 
 During the first season of his abode at Edin- 
 burgh, he associated almost exclusively with Mr. 
 Lockyer, who afterwards settled as a physician 
 at Plymouth ; Mr. Fearon, who had been in 
 Egypt, as surgeon to the Coldstream, and had 
 returned nearly blind from the ophthalmia, and 
 who afterwards practised as a physician at Suri- 
 derland ; (a man whom no one could know 
 without loving cheerful and liberal, full of know- 
 ledge, with a clear head and a warm heart, free 
 from every selfish feeling;) and Mr. Henry 
 Southey: the very different characters of these 
 individuals may have contributed in no trifling 
 degree to their intimacy. The sole survivor of 
 . the party still looks back to their convivial meet- 
 ings with a conviction that they did not owe their 
 charm merely to the joyous period of life at which
 
 312 BRITISH PHYSICIANS, 
 
 they occurred. In May most of the students 
 leave Edinburgh ; and the ensuing summer was an 
 eventful one to Gooch. He returned to Yarmouth, 
 and passed a part of the vacation at Norwich, with 
 Mr. William Taylor, with whose aid he began 
 the study of German; but during this summer 
 he had other occupations besides that study. 
 He became acquainted with Miss Emily Boling- 
 broke, and soon formed an attachment which 
 became mutual. She was an elegant, accom- 
 plished, sensitive, and fragile creature ; one of 
 those beings who shrink from notice, and can 
 only be appreciated by those who know them inti- 
 mately. To a man of Gooch's temperament, 
 always disposed to take a gloomy view of his own 
 affairs, an engagement, the accomplishment of 
 which depended upon his professional success, did 
 not contribute to immediate happiness ; nothing, 
 however, could be more liberal than the conduct 
 of the young lady's friends ; they looked to the pro- 
 bability of his success with far more confidence 
 than he did, and allowed a correspondence to con- 
 tinue, which, under the relative circumstances of 
 the parties, more worldly-minded parents would 
 have forbidden. When he returned to Edinburgh 
 the following autumn, after a loss of some weeks 
 at Cambridge, (whither he had gone, upon er- 
 roneous information respecting the probability of 
 his obtaining a medical fellowship,) Gooch first 
 evinced that disposition to melancholy which 
 never afterwards left him. He was, at times, as 
 cheerful as any man, but the habitual, every day 
 tendency of his mind was to despondency ; he 
 never spoke of his own prospects in life without
 
 GOOCH. 313 
 
 expressing an exaggerated notion of the diffi- 
 culties he should have to encounter. 
 
 In the course of this winter he had some slight 
 attacks of asthma, to which ever after he was occa- 
 sionally liable. This year he lived in the same house 
 with his former associates, Fearon and Southey, and 
 became acquainted with his future friend and pa- 
 tron, Dr., afterwards Sir William Knighton : Gooch 
 was not slow to appreciate the profound sagacity 
 and commanding power over the minds of others, 
 which so remarkably characterized this distin- 
 guished person. Through the whole of his after 
 life he was accustomed, in all matters of import- 
 ance, to apply to Sir William Knighton for advice. 
 
 The summer of Ift06 was passed by Gooch in 
 Norfolk, nearly as the former had been, in the 
 society of Miss Bolingbroke and the study of mo- 
 dern languages. Whilst he was at Yarmouth,, the 
 French frigate, La Guerriere, was captured and 
 brought into the Roads by the Clyde, and the 
 sick and wounded of both vessels were sent ashore 
 to the hospitals. This extraordinary number of 
 patients was too much for the ordinary number 
 of medical attendants, and Gooch was requeste4 
 to assist them. In a letter to a friend he relates 
 the following anecdote. " Among my patients 
 was a French sailor who had received a splinter 
 wound in the leg, which had split the principal 
 bone up into the knee, and produced violent in- 
 flammation of the joint; his constitution, after a 
 time, beginning to give way, it was thought neces- 
 sary to sacrifice his limb in order to save his life, 
 and it was accordingly amputated above the knee- 
 joint. The stump did well, and all danger from
 
 314 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 this quarter was at an end, but from long lying on 
 his back the flesh upon his loins began to ulce- 
 rate and mortify, and the mortification spread 
 extensively : this is a common occurrence to pa- 
 tients who are long confined to one posture in 
 bed, and as the ulceration arises from pressure, it 
 is not likely to heal while the pressure continues. 
 "With a good deal of difficulty I lifted the poor 
 fellow upon his side ; he was sadly wasted about 
 the hips, and lest they should ulcerate too, as soon 
 as he was tired of lying on one side, he was turned 
 on the other. In this way I contrived to keep 
 him from lying upon his ulcerated loins ; it is not 
 easy to conceive, however, the difficulty of keep- 
 ing a person in this situation continually on his 
 side ; he lies very well when first turned upon it, 
 but in a little time the posture gets uneasy, he 
 ceases to support himself, and insensibly he turns 
 into a new position ; a few hours after having 
 placed him completely on his side, you will find 
 him turned almost on his back, without his being 
 aware of it. It required a good deal of care 
 and contrivance to obviate this difficulty, but the 
 difficulty was obviated, all pressure was taken 
 off the sloughing surfaces, and I soon had the 
 pleasure of seeing the wound become florid, 
 healthy, and beginning to heal. But the time 
 was now come for me to leave the hospital, and 
 deliver up all my patients into the hands of an- 
 other attendant. At the end of a fortnight I re- 
 turned to Yarmouth to take ship for Edinburgh, 
 find of course walked down to the hospital to see 
 how Pierre (the poor Frenchman) and my other 
 patients were going on. His e} - e happened to
 
 be on tlie door as I entered the ward ; lie im- 
 mediately caught sight of me, and clasping his 
 hands with a cry of joy, turned his face upon the 
 pillow, and burst into tears. He knew I was to 
 return in my way to Edinburgh he had been 
 looking for me every day he felt that he should 
 die, and now he said that he should die happy. 
 During my fortnight's absence the poor fellow 
 was dreadfully altered, and looked as if he would 
 soon verify his own prognostic. He had not been 
 neglected, in the common acceptation of the term 
 among hospital surgeons ; he had had the ordinary 
 attention of a naval hospital, but his situation re- 
 quired more ; his new attendant, I dare say, knew 
 as much of surgery as I did, but he felt less inte- 
 rest about him, and had not given him that thought 
 and attention which I bad. He had been suffered 
 to lie continually upon his back ; the wounds on 
 his loins, which I had left clean and florid, were 
 covered with new and extensive sloughs, and his 
 constitution had sunk rnpidly. He was wasted to 
 a skeleton, had become irritable and low-spirited, 
 and did nothing but complain of neglect, cry over 
 his sufferings, and regret the loss of my attend- 
 ance. He was sure he should die, he said, but he 
 should not die happy unless he saw me first. The 
 nurse said that he had been continually talking of 
 me ; he had amused himself Avith writing French 
 verses about me, and was never so cheerful, they 
 said, as when he had his slate in his hand, and 
 was working at his poetry. It was fortunate, at 
 least I am glad, that I came back when I did, for 
 the poor fellow died the night after my return. 
 The affair affected me a good deal I shall never
 
 316 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 forget it. His constitution was so reduced that 
 he might possibly have died under the most care- 
 ful attendance ; but I have often regretted that I 
 did not defer my journey in order to see him fairly 
 through the dangers of his illness." 
 
 The last winter in which Gooch resided at Edin- 
 burgh, he formed an intimacy with Mr. Travers 
 and Dr. Holland ; he was chiefly occupied in 
 writing his Thesis de Rachitide, preparing for his 
 examination, and exercising himself for that pur- 
 pose with his friend Fearon, in colloquial Latin. 
 It is to be regretted that the custom of examining 
 in Latin should still be continued, particularly in 
 Edinburgh, where the great majority of the stu- 
 dents are very deficient in classical knowledge. 
 Very few even of the best educated men express 
 themselves with facility in Latin, and every candi- 
 date for a degree might have the quantum both of 
 his medical and classical attainments ascertained 
 by a better test than a Latin conversation. In 
 June, 1807, Gooch took his degree of Doctor of 
 Medicine, and immediately afterwards made a tour 
 in the Highlands, with Mr. Travers for his com- 
 panion. During this excursion his health and 
 spirits were better than usual ; he enjoyed the 
 scenery, and the similar circumstances in which 
 he and his friend were placed made them excellent 
 companions. He always looked back to this ex- 
 cursion as one of the most agreeable in his life. 
 From Scotland Gooch returned by sea to Yar- 
 mouth, and remained some months in Norfolk. 
 Feeling the necessity of fitting himself for the 
 practice of every branch of the medical profession, 
 he resolved to pass the winter in the study of
 
 coocir. 317 
 
 anatomy and sxirgery in London. He therefore 
 became a pupil of Mr. Astley Cooper's and dis- 
 sected diligently in the Borough. Early in the 
 following year he formed a partnership with Mr. 
 James of Croydon, a general practitioner of emi- 
 nence in that neighbourhood. Here Gooch im- 
 mediately entered upon the active duties of his 
 profession ; he had great opportunities of acquir- 
 ing practical knowledge, and soon became a 
 favourite in the families which he attended. Many 
 of the individuals to whom he first became known 
 as a country surgeon were afterwards useful to 
 him in London. 
 
 It was at the commencement of the year 1808 
 that Gooch first appeared in the character of a 
 critic. Several of his friends agreed to establish 
 a new medical journal, and he became one of the 
 principal contributors to the London Medical Re- 
 view which existed for about five years, and 
 contained many articles of very considerable 
 merit. The great error of all young reviewers is 
 the abuse of assumed power ; it is gratifying 
 to self-esteem to point out defects, and the 
 youthful critic is more anxious to discover faults 
 than excellencies. Gooch used often at a later 
 period of his life to regret the severity in which 
 he had indulged in some of his earlv essays in 
 this department. His first article was on the 
 subject of insanity; the book reviewed a transla- 
 tion of Pinel. By a singular coincidence the first 
 and the last of his literary labours were on the 
 same subject. There is a paragraph in this review 
 which is so applicable to Gooch's own peculiar 
 conformation of mind that he must have had an
 
 318 BRITISH PHYSICIAN8. 
 
 eye to himself when he wrote it. " There are 
 some characters," he says, " who are commonly 
 called low-spirited, gloomy, desponding fellows. 
 During an interval of occupation, when the mind 
 is free to range where it pleases, they are con- 
 stantly painting their future lives with a pencil 
 dipped in black. Aware that they possess certain 
 resources of money, knowledge, and patronage, 
 they view their present situation in the same light 
 with the most cheerful of their companions. But 
 the character of the man, the extent of his re- 
 sources, and the usual conduct of the world being 
 given, to find his future lot, he commences his cal- 
 culations with the same assumptions, and differs 
 from them in the conclusion. They deduce suc- 
 cess, he misfortune ; and the consequence is, that 
 he becomes a frequent prey to those sorrowful 
 apprehensions and gloomy emotions which want 
 only strength and permanency to constitute one 
 species of mental disease." 
 
 At this time Gooch was on the point of marry- 
 ing the woman of his choice, and with a fair pro- 
 spect of success in his profession still he was 
 not happy. Do "coming events cast their 
 shadows before?" and had he a presentiment that 
 in less than three years he should see the object of 
 his fondest affections pine away and die? The 
 lady was not in good health when she married, 
 and though pregnancy suspended the progress of 
 disease, after her confinement she became decidedly 
 consumptive. She lingered for about fifteen 
 months, and died on the 21st of January, 1811. 
 The infant survived its mother about six months, 
 and was buried in the same grave with her.
 
 GOOCH. 319 
 
 Grievously as Gooch felt this affliction, he did 
 not sink under it. When a man lias suffered the 
 heaviest calamity which can befall him, (not arising 
 from his own misconduct,) there is, after a short 
 time, a sort of re-action, and in the early part of 
 life a spirit of adventure not unfiequently succeeds. 
 Gooch s religious feelings (and they were naturally 
 strong) afforded him the best consolation, and 
 next to religion schemes for a new scene of pro- 
 fessional action. Being now somewhat better off 
 in point of circumstances, he resolved to remove 
 to London, and endeavour to obtain practice as an 
 accoucheur-physician. Several of his friends were 
 already established in the capital, doing well, and 
 disposed to serve him ; he had gained some repu- 
 tation by his writings, and had acquired a con- 
 sciousness of his own powers. There was perhaps 
 no period of his life when he was less inclined to 
 despond with regard to his future success, than 
 that at which he quitted Croydon. 
 
 Having taken a house in Aldermanbury. be- 
 fore he established himself permanently in Lon- 
 don, he made an excursion into the north of 
 England, in order to visit Dr. Fearon at Sun- 
 derland, and Dr. Henry Sou they at Durham. 
 On this occasion he made the tour of the Eng- 
 lish Lakes, and passed some days with Mr. Southey 
 at Keswick. The poet had seen him at Edin- 
 burgh in the autumn of 1805, as his brother's early 
 and intimate friend, had liked him at first sight, 
 and became more acquainted with him in London, 
 and during his residence at Croydon. He had 
 now better opportunity of appreciating his moral 
 and intellectual worth; and this visit led to an
 
 320 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 intimacy which continued during the remainder of 
 Gooch's life. 
 
 On his return to London he became a licen- 
 tiate of the Royal College of Physicians, and 
 before the close of the year 1811 he had fairly 
 entered the lists as a candidate for practice in 
 the city. He had chosen the line of accoucheur 
 as that in which his medical friends could most 
 easily assist him. It may be allowable to name 
 those persons to whom he was chiefly indebted for 
 his early introduction into practice ; and, first, 
 Mr. George Young, then an eminent surgeon in 
 the city, a gentleman to whom Gooch ever ex- 
 pressed himself under the greatest obligations, and 
 whom he was accustomed to describe as a most 
 accomplished practitioner, a delightful companion, 
 and an indefatigable friend ; Dr. Babington, to 
 whom Gooch afterwards dedicated his work upon 
 the diseases peculiar to women, and whom he 
 there characterizes most justly : and Sir William 
 Knighton, then in full practice at the west end of 
 the town, to whom, more than to any other indi- 
 vidual, he owed his early success in life. 
 
 In 1812 Dr. Gooch was elected physician to 
 the Westminster Lying-in Hospital; an appoint- 
 ment which afforded him great opportunities of 
 acquiring a practical knowledge of the difficulties 
 of midwifery. Ordinary cases are in such hospitals 
 attended by the regular nurses and the pupils, but 
 when a difficulty occurs, the physician is sum- 
 moned in proportion to the size of the establish- 
 ment these important cases are more or less fre- 
 quent, and what the private practitioner may meet 
 with but a few times in the course of his life, to
 
 GOOCH. 321 
 
 a hospital physician is a common occurrence. The 
 advantages of such a situation to Gooch were in- 
 calculable. In a letter to a friend written at this 
 time he speaks thus cheerfully of his own pro- 
 spects : " You will be glad to hear that practice 
 is coming in upon me, in a way and with a rapidity 
 which surprise me ; if its after progress is at all 
 proportionate to its commencement, (of which I 
 feel no doubt,) it will soon carry me out of the 
 reach of pecuniary cares. I have been attending 
 the daughter of one of the most zealous methodists 
 I ever met with ; he never gives me a fee but I 
 find written in red ink on the bank-note some reli- 
 gious sentence. I have now two of these curio- 
 sities lying by me ; on one is written, ' Who shall 
 exist in everlasting burnings?' on the other, 
 ' The wages of sin is death.' There were several 
 others which I cannot remember. I have sent 
 them out into the world to do all possible good, 
 and these will soon follow them." In the course 
 of this year Gooch was elected joint lecturer on 
 midwifery at St. Bartholomew's Hospital, with Dr. 
 Thynne, who was then very infirm, and who died 
 early in the following year. 
 
 An extract from a letter addressed to Mr. 
 Southey, dated January, 1813, illustrates his state 
 of mind at this period with reference to a second 
 marriage to which that friend had strongly ad- 
 vised him. " One part of your letter produced a 
 deep impression on me. There is no fear, how- 
 ever, but I shall again become a husband, nor 
 will a second attachment become less likely from 
 being deferred another year or two. I am too 
 friendly to marriage in general, too sick of a soli-
 
 322 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 tary fireside, too indisposed to relish even the 
 innocent pursuits which single men depend on 
 for amusement, too thoroughly convinced that 
 gaiety, as it is commonly called, is incapable of 
 affording me pleasure, too disposed to look to 
 the pursuits of knowledge, and the endearments 
 of affection, for my happiness in this world. At 
 present, however, unless I am much mistaken, 
 an attachment would not be desirable for me. 
 Mine is an anxious disposition more given to fear 
 than to hope. During the last year, it is true, I 
 have scarcely known what fear is, but this I refer 
 not to any change in my character, but to an 
 alteration in my circumstances for although I 
 have become an- adventurer, and thrown myself in 
 the way of difficulties, I have always been encou- 
 raged by the thought that even if I failed, my 
 failure would injure no one but myself. Notwith- 
 standing the unexpected degree of my success, I 
 an\ still an adventurer, and shall feel myself to be 
 so until I have gained an income equal to my ex- 
 penses. You- will smile perhaps at the apprehen- 
 siveness of my nature, but such it is, and so far 
 from my being able to mend it, I believe the less 
 I think of it the better it becomes. No domestic 
 enjoyments would compensate to- me for pecuniary 
 anxieties. As long as there remains the slightest 
 uncertainty about my success, so long had I better 
 remain single, not only in fact but in feeling. As 
 soon as I have gained a competent income (which, 
 by the by, becomes the more necessary because 
 I may chance to marry a woman without a fortune, 
 for I shall certainly choose my second wife from 
 the same feelings which led me to my first) when
 
 GOOCII. 323 
 
 I have a competent income I shall have neither 
 disinclination nor difficulty in again becoming 
 attached, as I have some reason to believe that 
 there is still left in me more susceptibility than I 
 once thought I should ever again possess." 
 
 At the very time when this letter was written 
 Gooch was forming an attachment to the sister of 
 his friend Mr. Travers, and notwithstanding all 
 his prudent resolutions, soon became convinced 
 that he should best consult his own happiness by 
 expediting his marriage with a person every Avay 
 qualified to make him happy. There was, indeed, 
 nothing imprudent in his so doing, for his practice 
 was rapidly increasing, and the death of Dr. Thynne 
 gave him the whole profit of the lectures at St. 
 Bartholomew's Hospital. 
 
 These lectures, though a source of emolument, 
 were also a source of great anxiety to Gooch. 
 He found himself called upon to give a complete 
 course of prelections upon a very extensive subject, 
 on many parts of which he felt his own know- 
 ledge to be as yet but imperfect, and no time, or 
 at most a very inadequate time, could be allowed 
 for preparation. It was impossible to write each 
 lecture, and he often found himself compelled 
 to go to the hospital with scanty notes, and not 
 fully possessed of all that was known on the sub- 
 ject. He was a severe critic of himself, and 
 though most of his auditors came away satisfied 
 with the clearness of his statements, and the live- 
 liness of his manner, he over-estimated all the de- 
 fects of which he was conscious. He used to 
 look forward to the hour of lecturing with horror. 
 In one of his letters he says, "I am going down 
 
 Y2
 
 324 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 to lecture with a palsied mind and a palpitating 
 heart." Yet he generally came back from the 
 hospital in better spirits than he went. Anxiety, 
 with regard to his success as a lecturer, affected 
 his health, and laid the foundation of that disorder 
 of his stomach, from which he was never after- 
 wards entirely free. In a few years Gooch became 
 one of the best lecturers in London, and used to 
 go into the class-room without any notes, with the 
 most perfect confidence, able to teach clearly and 
 impressively that which hehimself thoroughly under- 
 stood : but for this power he paid too high a price. 
 In January, 1814, Gooch married Miss Travers. 
 He announced his approaching nuptials to his 
 friend, Mr. Southey, thus, "Lost time is lost 
 happiness; the years of man are three score and 
 ten, the months therefore 840, about 360 of my 
 share are already gone, how many have I to spare ? 
 On the 21st of this month I leave London, and on 
 the 1st of February, God permitting, I bring home 
 my wife. To me, at least, you have been a suc- 
 cessful preacher." Ten months afterwards he 
 wrote another cheerful letter, reporting progress 
 in his profession, and stating his expectation that 
 he had taken leave of the fear of poverty for life, 
 but expressing a little doubt how far his health 
 might bear the air and the exertions of London. 
 There was but too much ground for apprehension 
 on this*point ; in every other respect Gooch was 
 most happily circumstanced, every year added to 
 his reputation, and consequently to his income ; 
 and in his domestic relations no man could be 
 more fortunate ; but no sooner was he free from 
 the dread of poverty which had haunted him in
 
 GOOCH. 325 
 
 early life, than his health became sufficiently im- 
 paired to fill his mind with gloomy anticipations. 
 
 In the spring of 1815 he suffered from an in- 
 flammatory attack on his lungs, and in a letter 
 thus alludes to his illness, " At one time I was 
 more alarmed about myself than I ever remember. 
 I say alarmed, for I did not feel afraid of death, 
 so lowly do I estimate the pleasures of life so 
 diluted and mingled are even its best hours, and 
 so uncertain is their continuance, even when we 
 are going most merrily adown the current ; yet I 
 was alarmed for I shuddered at the thought of 
 dying just when I had come within reach of, but 
 before I had time to grasp success, and leaving 
 my wife pregnant and almost unprovided for. I 
 am slowly recovering, my chest is well, but I am 
 not" A few days' residence in the country restored 
 him to his usual health. 
 
 In April his first boy was born : at this time, 
 Gooch's business was rapidly increasing, and 
 more particularly in the west end of the town, 
 where he profited by the overflowing of his 
 friend Knighton's practice; this circumstance 
 led to his removal, early in 1816, from Alder- 
 manbury to Berners Street. Although there was 
 little or no risk attending his removal, it was not 
 without some misgivings that he changed his 
 abode, and he was for some time anxious lest the 
 increase of connexion in one part of London 
 should not equal the loss of patients in the other. 
 A few months settled the question satisfactorily. 
 
 Towards the close of this year, Gooch went on 
 a professional visit to the Marquis Wellesley, at 
 Ramsgate, to whom he was introduced by Sir 
 William Knighton ; here he was taken alarmingly
 
 326 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 ill, his stomach became so irritable as to reject 
 all aliment, and for several days he vomited inces- 
 santly. Every care and attention was shown him, 
 and as soon as it was safe for him to travel, Lord 
 Wellesley sent one of his own servants with him 
 to London. Gooch always expressed himself 
 grateful for the kindness he experienced on this 
 occasion, and highly gratified with the conversa- 
 tion of one of the most accomplished scholars and 
 statesmen of the age. 
 
 From this period he dated the commencement of 
 that formidable disorder of the stomach to which 
 he was subject at intervals through the remainder 
 of his life. In a few weeks after his return from 
 Ramsgate he regained strength enough to resume 
 his professional duties. Success is very wholesome 
 to the body, if not to the mind, and in a man of 
 Gooch's temperament, to both ; his life was doubt- 
 less prolonged by the stimulus of increasing repu- 
 tation. In 1818 he writes thus cheerfully, " My 
 children (he had now three) are healthy, and more 
 delightful to me than I had anticipated before I 
 was a father. In my profession I am striding on 
 with a rapidity which I had no right to expect at 
 my age and standing ; the progress I have made, 
 and from the state of competition the prospects I 
 have before me, are such, that by fifty years of 
 age, and very likely before, I must be able to re- 
 tire with a competence. This is the happiest time 
 of my life ; my home is delightful to me my 
 station satisfactory, whether I regard what is 
 doing for me or what I am doing for others my 
 pecuniary cares gone my prospects bright, and 
 I may add, as certain as any thing can be, that is if 
 I live and preserve my health ; but there's the rub
 
 GOOCII. 327 
 
 that troubles me more than ever, and though I can 
 no where detect any mortal disease, yet I am in a 
 state which keeps constantly before my mind the 
 probability that my life will be short, too short for 
 me to do what I could do for my family, and what 
 little I would try to do in my way for mankind," 
 
 The next two years of Gooch's life were marked 
 by increasing success in his profession, but the 
 satisfaction resulting from this circumstance was 
 more than balanced by anxiety on the score of his 
 wife's health and his own. 
 
 In 1820 'he lost his eldest son, an interesting 
 and promising child of five years old : no calamity 
 which he had ever experienced affected him so 
 deeply as the death of this boy. In a letter, 
 written soon after this event, he says, " There is 
 only one subject I can talk to you about, and 
 that is my boy ; he is always in our thoughts. 
 Southey, in * Roderick,' gives the recipe for grief 
 with a truth which shows he has tried it, and found 
 its efficacy religion and strenuous exertion. 
 Whoever says, that the latter is the chief, says 
 false, for the former affords support when the 
 mind is incapable of exertion ; it tranquillizes in 
 moments which exertion cannot reach, and is not 
 only not the least, but the best of the two. When 
 we went down to Croydon to deposit our dear boy 
 in my little tenement there, you will easily believe 
 that I approached the town and entered the 
 church-yard with strange feelings : ten years back 
 I had visited this spot to lay a wife and a 
 child in the same tomb ; since then I had reco- 
 vered from my grief, had formed new affections, 
 had had them wounded as bitterly as the former,
 
 328 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 and was now approaching the same spot again 
 on a similar, and as poignant an occasion. The 
 scene was singularly instructive, it cried out with 
 a voice, which I heard to my centre, of the en- 
 durableness and curability of grief of the inse- 
 curity of every thing the transience of life the 
 rapid and inevitable current with which we are all 
 hurrying on ; and it asked me, how I could fear to 
 submit to that state into which so many whom I 
 had dearly loved had already passed before me ? 
 You will be interested to know the state of the 
 contents of the tomb after the lapse of so many 
 years ; both the coffins looked as if they had been 
 deposited yesterday, as clean, as dry, as firm : if 
 they could have been opened, I have little doubt 
 the bodies would have been found in proper form, 
 though changed. I added my beloved boy to its 
 former inhabitants, and then asked myself, who 
 goes next?" 
 
 Within ten years he was himself deposited in 
 the same spot. The death of his favourite child 
 and his own ill health naturally directed Gooch's 
 thoughts more and more to the subject of religion. 
 Like many wise and truly pious men he had at 
 times misgivings with regard to the efficacy of his 
 own faith : one night, soon after the funeral, when 
 he had been harassed by doubts, praying fer- 
 vently for their removal, and in a very excited 
 state of mind longing for the apparition of his 
 boy, he fell asleep, thinking that if such a vision 
 should be vouchsafed him, he could never doubt 
 again. The dream which followed is not the less 
 striking because it may be reasonably explained by 
 the state of his mind and body at the time. He
 
 GOOCII. 329 
 
 thought his child appeared, and told him, that al- 
 though his prayers had been heard, and a spirit 
 was allowed to visit him, still, that he would not be 
 satisfied, but would consider it merely as a dream ; 
 adding, he who will not believe Moses and the 
 prophets, will not believe though one comes from 
 the dead. Here he awoke, and afterwards related 
 the dream to several of his friends. At this time 
 Gooch read a good deal of theology, and his letters 
 and conversation showed how much his mind was 
 occupied with this subject. 
 
 In one of his letters he gives an account of 
 Dr. Chalmers. " On Sunday I went to hear him 
 preach at the Scotch church in Hatton Garden, 
 and at the peril of my ribs succeeded in getting 
 in ; and in the evening heard him again, at the 
 Wesleyan chapel, where he preached to a con- 
 gregation of four thousand. It was a striking 
 sight, every pew full, the standing places crowded 
 up to the very doors. It is difficult to compare 
 strong impressions which we have received at dif- 
 ferent periods of our life, but I think I may say, 
 that I never heard so powerful a preacher ; a 
 good deal of this power, however, depends on his 
 manner an earnestness of heart, a fiery vehe- 
 mence, which occasionally would be rant, but that 
 the vehemence of the manner never rises above 
 the energy of the thought and expression. He 
 has a curious, but very useful custom ; at the end 
 of a passage, ornamented in the highest possible 
 degree, and perfectly on fire with energy, he 
 makes a dead pause, and then states the pith of the 
 passage, with the calmness and familiarity of con- 
 versation : thus sending his hearers away, not
 
 330 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 only with warm feelings, but with clear con- 
 ceptions." 
 
 While Mr. Benson held the living of St. Giles's, 
 Gooch frequently attended at that church, and was 
 a great admirer both of the writings and preaching 
 of that powerful advocate of Christianity. 
 
 The life of a physician, in very full practice, 
 allows of little time either for study or recreation, 
 but the state of Dr. Gooch's health was such, that 
 he was obliged to restrict himself in the number of 
 his daily visits, and thus made some leisure for 
 literary pursuits. His mind was always too active 
 for his body, and he frequently suffered in health 
 from writing (or rather dictating, for his wife 
 wrote every thing for him) too earnestly, or too 
 long at a time. Every summer he was obliged 
 to quit London altogether for some weeks, and 
 usually found most benefit from a journey. 
 
 In 1822 he visited Paris. On his return he writes 
 thus to Mrs. Bolingbroke, with whom through life 
 he continued to correspond : " My journey to 
 France, like all earthly things, has afforded me a 
 mixture of good and evil ; I have returned in 
 better health, pleased with some things, disap- 
 pointed with many, and resolved (as long as I 
 continue in the same mind) never to go abroad 
 again during any future holidays from business. 
 When I leave London I want repose ; in my last 
 excursion I had any thing but that, for the fatigues 
 of business are nothing to the fatigues of sight- 
 seeing in Paris. I used to come home at night 
 half dead ; but the next morning I was alive again, 
 and ready to run the same foolish round I say 
 foolish, because three-fourths of the sights you
 
 Goocir. 331 
 
 are dragged to see, are, in my mind, not worth 
 seeing. The pleasantest day I spent in France 
 was in travelling from Paris to Rouen, sitting on 
 the outside of the carriage, and looking about on a 
 beautiful and ever-changing country, observing the 
 grotesque appearance of the peasantry, and pass- 
 ing through towns interesting from historical 
 association. I shall take the hint, and if ever I 
 leave town again for health and relaxation, it shall 
 be for an unhurried tour through Wales or Cum- 
 berland, or some of the beautiful counties of 
 England. Horace Walpole said, that after Calais 
 there was nothing in France striking : and I can 
 understand what he means, for our first day in 
 Calais was the most striking day I experienced ; 
 even the crossing was exciting and agreeable : I 
 had never before been on board a steam packet, 
 and without the aid of wind or tide, or any visible 
 means, to see it turn round and walk over the 
 waters, gave me a lively sense of the power of 
 man. It was a glorious morning ; the sea was 
 green, and scarcely more ruffled than a lake ; the 
 deck was crowded with well-dressed passengers, 
 and the scene was indescribably lively. We 
 entered Calais harbour, playing the popular tune 
 of Henry IV. between the piers on each side, a 
 mile long, thronged with people. On landing, the 
 first aspect of the town its ramparts as you pass 
 along the streets, the dresses of the people, their 
 long-eared caps, gold ear-rings, blue stockings, 
 and wooden shoes, ugly faces and strange tongue, 
 all so entirely different from what you left four 
 hours ago it was a striking moment ; but alas ! 
 it was only a moment. The eye soons gets accus-
 
 332 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 tomed to the costume of a foreign country ; I had 
 experienced this pleasure a long time before in my 
 first journey to Scotland, when it was far more 
 lively and lasting than now : now the only time I 
 felt it was, as I have described, on my first en- 
 trance into Calais, and it was scarcely ever re- 
 peated during the rest of my tour. I am an old 
 man with me the bloom is off the plum, there 
 is nothing in life which can afford me lively plea- 
 sure, except for a moment, but the pleasures I 
 have around my fire-side; and I see clearly, that 
 for the rest of my life, I must seek contentment 
 from the attainment of a competence, the educa- 
 tion of my children, and preparing for the ills 
 and the end of life." 
 
 This letter is very characteristic of Gooch : it 
 shows the effect of bodily disorder upon a mind 
 naturally alive to everything interesting in nature 
 and art ; but uneasy sensation made him incapable 
 of enjoying anything, as he says, for more than a 
 moment. It had an influence upon his literary 
 taste, so that few books which he read gave him 
 pleasure ; and there were still fewer people whose 
 conversation he could tolerate, for more than a 
 short time : but though he became thus ultra- 
 fastidious, his natural affections were unimpaired, 
 his heart was unchanged, and his reasoning 
 powers seemed to acquire fresh vigour. 
 
 The following autumn, he made a tour through 
 North Wales ; and on his return passed a clay in 
 the company of Dr. Parr, at Warwick. They had 
 previously met in London ; and Gooch afterward 
 gave an account of these two interviews in a lively 
 paper, which was printed in Blackwood's Maga-
 
 GOOCH. 333 
 
 zine, and entitled, Two Days with Dr. Parr. On 
 this occasion, when speaking of the different profes- 
 sions, and relative advantages and disadvantages 
 of each, Parr said, the most desirable was that of 
 physic, which was equally favourable to a man's 
 moral sentiments and intellectual faculties. One 
 of the party reminded him of his first interview 
 with Dr. Johnson. "I remember it well," said 
 Parr ; " I gave him no quarter, the subject of our 
 dispute was the liberty of the press. Dr. Johnson 
 was very great : whilst he was arguing, I observed 
 that he stamped ; upon this I stamped. Dr. John- 
 son said, 'Why do you stamp, Dr. Parr?' I re- 
 plied, ' Sir, because you stamped, and I was 
 resolved not to give you the advantage even of a 
 stamp in the argument.' " 
 
 Gooch remarks of Dr. Parr, that one of the 
 striking features of his character seems to have 
 been a child-like simplicity and sincerity, one ef- 
 fect of which was, that feelings of personal vanity 
 were let out, which any other man would have 
 felt under the same circumstances, but which he 
 would have prudently kept to himself; yet Parr's 
 mode of displaying it rather excited a smile than 
 a sneer. 
 
 In the summer of 1824, Gooch passed a few 
 weeks in Norfolk, and derived all the enjoyment 
 which his state of health permitted from the so- 
 ciety of his early friends in Yarmouth and Norwich. 
 
 Towards the close of this year the question 
 of altering the quarantine-laws began to be 
 agitated, and he took a lively interest in the 
 subject. He writes thus to Mr. South ey, in a 
 letter dated April, 1825 : " I remember, about
 
 334 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 fifteen years ago, telling you that I never felt 
 what was called patriotism : time has altered me in 
 this respect, as well as in many others : and I 
 grieve to see the number of men who, some from 
 ignorance and others from wickedness, are doing 
 all they can to injure their country. At this time, 
 a set of half-educated, wrong-headed, medical 
 adventurers, are trying to persuade the Govern- 
 ment that the plague is not contagious, and that 
 there is no need of any precautions to keep it out 
 of the country. The writings by which the public 
 mind is assailed on this subject are filled with the 
 most absurd reasoning, garbled statements, and all 
 sorts of dishonest measures. Eminent men are 
 even quoted against the contagiousness of the 
 plague, who never entertained a doubt of the op- 
 posite opinion. These writings are swallowed as 
 gospel by worthy, active members of Parliament 
 are repeated in their speeches ; and I understand 
 that the subject is to come before the House on 
 Tuesday night, and that some material change is 
 likely to be proposed, and even carried, in our 
 quarantine-laws. Something ought to be done to 
 stay the mischief. But what is every body's busi- 
 ness is nobody's business the trustworthy minds 
 are too busy, too modest, or too indolent to do any- 
 thing, and thus the public are governed by, what 
 William Taylor calls, not real merit, but noisy 
 conspicuity. We deserve, however, to suffer, if 
 we do not exert ourselves ; and as nobody else will 
 undertake the task, I will. But here, unluckily, I 
 have been disabled for some time by one of my old 
 illnesses, which has confined me to the house 
 nearly three weeks, and which has left me very
 
 GOOCH. 335 
 
 weak, and incapable of much exertion. It will re- 
 quire some time before I am fit for work of any 
 kind. In the meanwhile, to stay the mischief, I 
 have put into Mr. Peel's hands some of the evi- 
 dence I have collected on the subject ; and I now 
 write to you, to say, that if you have any notes of 
 reading on the subject, I shall be very thankful 
 foT them." 
 
 How well he performed the task thus self-im- 
 posed, is seen in the article on the Contagious 
 Nature of the Plague, Avhich appeared in the 
 Quarterly Review for December, 1825. As Gooch 
 reprinted this paper among his other medical 
 works, there can be no impropriety in giving him 
 the credit which is so justly due. 
 
 During the whole of this year he suffered much 
 from illness. He went to the Continent in search 
 of health, but the crossing from Dover to Calais 
 brought on a sickness which continued after he 
 landed, confined him to his bed three days at Ca- 
 lais, and three weeks at Bruges ; and he returned 
 weaker than he went. He had the good fortune 
 to be accompanied on this excursion by his accom- 
 plished friend, Dr. Robert Fergusson, to whose 
 skill and attention he was much indebted, and who 
 greatly lessened the anxiety of Mrs. Gooch, the 
 indefatigable nurse and constant attendant of her 
 husband in all his journeys. 
 
 While at Ghent, ill as he was, Gooch contrived 
 to visit the Beguinage there ; and in one of his 
 letters gives an account of the evening service in 
 the chapel: "When we entered, it was nearly 
 dark ; the only lights were a few tall tapers before 
 the altar, and as many at the opposite extremity
 
 336 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 of the chapel, before the organ ; the rest of the 
 building was in deep gloom, having no other 
 light than what it received from these few and dis- 
 tant tapers. There were a few people of the town 
 kneeling, on straw chairs, in the open space before 
 the altar, but the rest of the chapel was filled on 
 each side, from end to end, by the Beguine nuns, 
 amounting to several hundreds, all in their dark 
 russet gowns and white stiff hoods; and all in 
 twilight, and deep silence, and motionless, and 
 the silence interrupted only by the occasional 
 tinkling of a bell, or by a nun starting up with 
 outstretched arms in the attitude of the Cruci- 
 fixion, in which she remained fixed and silent for 
 many minutes. It was the strangest and most 
 unearthly scene I ever beheld." 
 
 The Beguines, like the Soeurs de Charite, act 
 as nurses to the sick poor in the hospitals ; and 
 the best . of nurses they make, combining more 
 intelligence than can be found among the unedu- 
 cated classes with a high sense of duty. 
 
 It was a favourite scheme of Gooch's to direct 
 the flow of religious enthusiasm towards the hos- 
 pitals in this country. The superiority of the 
 Parisian to the London hospitals in point of nurses 
 must be obvious to the most superficial observer. 
 An association of middle-aged females animated by 
 religious feelings, for the purpose of relieving the 
 extremes of human misery, not by pecuniary aid, 
 but by personal attention to the sick poor, in imi- 
 tation of the Sisters of Charity, or rather of the Be- 
 guines (for the latter are bound by no vow except 
 to be chaste and obedient while they remain in 
 the order, and have the power of returning to the
 
 GOOCH. 337 
 
 world whenever they please) might be eminently 
 useful. The letters on this subject, published in 
 the Appendix to Mr. Southey's Colloquies, were 
 written by Dr. Gooch. They have been reprinted 
 at Liverpool, as a means of calling attention and 
 inviting assistance in support of an institution for 
 educating nurses which has been established there. 
 Mr. Hornby, the rector of Winwick, is the indi- 
 vidual by whose active exertions this scheme has 
 been, to a certain extent, carried into effect, and 
 who had previously introduced the subject into a 
 printed sermon. 
 
 Gooch returned from Flanders in wretched 
 health, and found himself under the necessity cf 
 relinquishing the practice of midwifery : that 
 branch of his business he transferred as far as he 
 could to Dr. Locock, on whom he could thoroughly 
 rely, and henceforth confined himself to the pre- 
 scribing part of his profession. He spent the month 
 of October at Bath, and returned to town somewhat 
 better ; but on the 1 st of January, 1826, he was 
 attacked with ha?moptysis. On his recovery from 
 this attack, he writes thus : "You will be sorry to 
 hear that since I last wrote to you I have had an- 
 other long and suffering illness. Early on New- 
 year's morning I was waked by a symptom I never 
 had before a haemorrhage from the lungs. As I 
 have for many years never passed a day without 
 some degree of cough and expectoration, I imme- 
 diately concluded that this was the breaking up of 
 some old organic mischief in the lungs, and took 
 it for granted that my hour was come ; and now I 
 felt the difference between the prospect of death 
 during bodily suffering which has no remedy, an4 
 
 z
 
 338 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 the same prospect in a state of mental and bodily 
 comfort. Generally my illnesses have been suf- 
 fering, and death has looked a welcome visitor. 
 Now, on the contrary, I felt well, at least I had 
 no pain. Every object around me and before me 
 looked pleasant, and I felt unwilling to quit them ; 
 but it was not dying, but parting with those dear 
 to me, which caused the pang. It was just what 
 I have felt when death hath removed from me those 
 I loved, and just what I should have felt in the 
 prospect of my wife and all my children being 
 taken from me by death. The haemorrhage soon 
 ceased, and I believe was of no consequence ; but 
 the anxiety I felt about it, and the low diet which 
 I observed for a fortnight, ended in one of my old 
 vomiting illnesses, which lasted three weeks, and 
 has now left me as thin as the anatomie vivante.'' 
 Notwithstanding these repeated illnesses, which 
 withdrew him for months together from his pro- 1 
 fession, Gooch's reputation continued to increase ; 
 and as soon as he was able to resume his practice, 
 he always found that he had more patients on his 
 list than he could visit. In April, 182G, he was 
 appointed librarian to the King a situation which 
 added much to his comfort, by insuring him a 
 moderate annuity for life, in case (which then 
 appeared too probable) ill health should oblige 
 him to relinquish his profession entirely. For this 
 he was indebted to the kindness of his friend, Sir 
 William Knighton. The summer of this year 
 Gooch passed chiefly at Malvern; he had intended 
 to visit the Cumberland Lakes again, but found 
 his strength unequal to the journey. The air of 
 Malvern agreed with him, and he returned to town
 
 ooocn. 339 
 
 able to resume his medical practice, but still obliged 
 to restrict himself to a very limited number of 
 hours of active employment. His mind was, 
 however, rarely at rest ; he was either occupied 
 in preparing for publication his work on the 
 diseases of women, or in contributions to periodi- 
 cal publications. In whatever he engaged, there 
 was an earnestness of purpose which not unfre- 
 quently exhausted his bodily powers. The few 
 remaining years of Gooch's life exhibited a strik- 
 ing contrast between mental vigour and bodily 
 weakness. His best health was that of a complete 
 valetudinarian ; but he was able to see a consider- 
 able number of patients most days, and to devote 
 some hours to literary labour. The summer of 
 1827 he passed at Southborough, near Bromley ; 
 that of the following year at Hampstead and Tun- 
 bridge Wells. 
 
 Gooch had now been for a considerable part of 
 his life engaged in attending more particularly to 
 the diseases of women, and he was not a man upon 
 whom the lessons of experience were lost. The 
 publication of his work on this subject was, there- 
 fore, sure to add to his reputation. He corrected 
 the last sheets of this volume while at Brighton, 
 in the summer of 1829; and he lived long enough 
 to know that he had not disappointed the high ex- 
 pectations of his medical friends. On his return 
 to town he found that his book had been praised 
 by every professional reader, and that he could 
 have increased his practice to any extent had his 
 health permitted. But his strength was unequal 
 even to the former demands upon it. His bodily 
 powers failed gradually and progressively, but his 
 
 z 2
 
 340 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 mind retained its activity almost to the last. He 
 became a living skeleton, and so helpless that he 
 was fed like an infant, yet he would dictate with 
 a faltering voice sentences which indicated no 
 mental feebleness. Once or twice he became de- 
 lirious for a few minutes, and the consciousness 
 that he was so, distressed him greatly. His life 
 was prolonged for some days by the constant 
 watching of his medical friends, Mr. George 
 Young and Mr. Fernandez, who relieved each 
 other at his bedside ; and by the admirable nurs- 
 ing of his wife, whose health suffered materially 
 by her incessant attentions. 
 
 " On the 16th of February, 1830, he breathed his 
 last. Enough has been stated in this brief memoir 
 to show that Robert Gooch was no ordinary man. 
 During a short life, embittered by almost constant 
 illness, he succeeded in attaining to great eminence 
 in his profession, and left behind him valuable 
 contributions to medical knowledge. His Essay 
 on the Plague settled the question of the contagious 
 nature of that disease, at least for the present 
 generation ; and, when the same controversy shall 
 be again revived (for medical as well as theolo- 
 gical heresies spring up again after the lapse of a 
 few generations), will furnish facts and arguments 
 for the confutation of future anti-contagionists. 
 The paper on Anatomy in the Quarterly Review 
 for January, 1830, which bears internal marks 
 of being his, and must, of course, have been dic- 
 tated from his death-bed, has placed the question 
 in a right point of view, by proving that it is the 
 interest of the public rather than of the medical 
 profession, that the impediments to study of that
 
 ooocii. 341 
 
 soience should be removed. His book On the 
 Diseases Peculiar to Women is the most valuable 
 work QII that subject in any language ; the chapters 
 on puerperal fever and puerperal madness are pro- 
 bably the most important additions to practical 
 medicine of the present age. 
 
 "With regard to personal appearance, Gooch was 
 rather below the ordinary height, and always thin : 
 his countenance was elegantly marked ; the dark 
 full eyes remarkably fine ; the habitual expression 
 made up of sagacity and melancholy, though no 
 features could exhibit occasionally a more happy 
 play of humour. His manners were singularly 
 well adapted to a sick room natural, quiet, im- 
 pressive ; and the kindness of his heart led him to 
 sympathize readily with the feelings of others, 
 and rarely failed to attach his patients strongly. 
 They who were accustomed to rely upon him merely 
 for professional aid, found it difficult to supply 
 his place ; to his intimates and his family his loss 
 was irreparable. Dr. Gooch left three children 
 two boys and a girl ; his family were moderately 
 provided for, but his sons inherited the inesti- 
 mable advantage of their father's good name and 
 example.
 
 342 
 
 MEERIMAN. 
 
 THE name of Merriman having been justly celebrated 
 for nearly a century in the annals of obstetricy, it is 
 considered advisable to preface this biographical 
 memoir by a few notes upon the first accoucheur of 
 that name. Samuel, the first Dr. Merriman, was born 
 at Marlborough, in Wiltshire, on December 29, 1731. 
 He graduated at Edinburgh, as M.D., in 1753 ; his 
 thesis was an essay of so much value, that it was 
 thought worthy of being reprinted by William Smellie, 
 S.P.E.S., in the second volume of his " Thesaurus 
 Medicus," a collection of theses for the degree of 
 M.D. at the University of Edinburgh, published in 
 1779, in four vols. 8vo. The cards of admission to 
 the lectures which Dr. Merriman received from the 
 professors at the University are worthy of being 
 noted, as instances of a simplicity of manners which 
 has now quite passed away ; they are ordinary, much- 
 used playing-cards, with the name, &c. written on 
 the back. The following are exact copies of some, 
 which were preserved as curiosities : 
 
 "1749, Oct. 18, Anatomy, No. 7th, Samuel 
 Merryman, 85," is the card given by Professor Monro, 
 written on the four of clubs ; " College of Institutions 
 of Medicine, K.W.,17H, No. 24, Samuel Merryman," 
 is Dr. Whytt'scard, written uponan eight of hearts; and 
 " A Course of Chemistry begun at EdinV 14th Nov. 
 1752, And. Plummer, for Samuel Merriman, No. 24,"
 
 MERR1MAN. 343 
 
 is the card admitting to the Chemical Lectures, 
 written upon the nine of diamonds. The London 
 cards of the same period were more elegant, though 
 very simple. Dr. Merriman' s card of admission to 
 the lectures of Dr. William Hunter is a blank card, 
 with an ill-engraved seal in black-wax, representing 
 a head, and bears in writing, " No. 62, Anatomy by 
 William Hunter, Jan ry 1752," and on reverse, ''Mr. 
 Merriman." 
 
 Dr. Merriman, senior, first settled as a physician 
 in Bristol, and afterwards removed to Andover, in 
 Hampshire; but finding that a young unknown phy- 
 sician had little chance of success in his profession, 
 he came to London in April, 17^7> and commenced 
 practice in Queen-street, M ay-fair, as an apothecary 
 (the term " general practitioner" being unknown in 
 those days), in partnership with Mr. Oakley Halford, 
 who was about to retire from practice, lie continued 
 to practise as an apothecary for about twenty years, 
 when he acted on his diploma, and practised only as 
 a physician. Dr. Merriman, senior, Avas removed 
 from this world, 17th August, 1818, aged eighty-six. 
 On the morning of his decease, his daughter read to 
 him a few passages in the newspaper which were 
 likely to interest him ; he afterwards searched in 
 Watts's Lyric Poems for a passage which he thought 
 applicable to his situation, but in vain ; before nine 
 o'clock on the same evening he had ceased to breathe. 
 He died at his son-in-law's house, 26, Half Moon- 
 street, his daughter, Mrs. Merriman, being the sole 
 surviving child of a family of fourteen children. 
 
 Samuel Merriman, M.D., the immediate subject 
 of this memoir, was born at Marlborough, 25th 
 October, 177 lj and was the only son of an elder
 
 344 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 brother of the above-mentioned Dr. Merriman, Mr. 
 Benjamin Merriman, a bre\ver in large business in 
 that town. He was a man of scientific pursuits, and 
 published several pamphlets upon political economy. 
 His wife was a niece of that very upright judge, Sir 
 Michael Foster. 
 
 Dr. Merriman received his early education at the 
 Free Grammar School, Marlborough, founded by 
 Xing Edward VI., and presided over at that time by 
 the Rev. Joseph Edwards. 
 
 On his thirteenth birthday, 1784, he arrived in 
 London, to reside with his uncle, having travelled by 
 the stage coach, which, leaving Newbury, where he 
 had slept, at six in the morning, reached London at 
 five in the afternoon. 
 
 For a short time, he went to the school of Mr. 
 Robert Roy, in Old Burlington-street; and he remem- 
 bers often to have seen, in very fine weather, as he 
 was going to school, Dr. Denmon, who lived next 
 door to Mr. Roy, getting on horseback to visit his 
 patients. This mode of visiting patients was likewise 
 frequently adopted by Sir Richard Croft, and by some 
 other physicians. 
 
 Under the able tuition and direction of Dr. Merri- 
 man, sen., he began his medical studies, obtaining 
 the greatest amount of his professional knowledge 
 from the very sound and extensive medical skill and 
 science of his uncle. 
 
 In 1795, he attended the midwifery lectures of 
 Dr. Thynne at the Westminster Lying-in Hospital, 
 having previously gone through the usual courses of 
 lectures at the Anatomical Theatre, in Great Wind- 
 mill-street, by Baillie and Cruikshank ; but his 
 clinical knowledge of disease was principally obtained
 
 MERRIMAN. 345 
 
 by seeing the numerous patients of his cousin William, 
 son of Dr. Merriman, sen , first in company with him, 
 and subsequently, during his long illness, which 
 proved ultimately fatal, as his friend. 
 
 The practice of an apothecary, previously to the 
 present century, was of a nature very different from 
 what it is now. There Avere then no retail druggists, 
 but every apothecary had his shop, not often open, 
 but always easily accessible. At these shops, the 
 prescriptions of physicians were made up ; here 
 casual patients used to apply for advice and assistance? 
 here persons might at any time go and be bled, and, 
 "in the spring and fall," many considered it necessary, 
 according to the instructions of the almanacks, that 
 blood should be taken from them ; and here the 
 minor cases of surgery were attended to, so that 
 every day a number of small fees were received from 
 these casual patients. And this necessarily led to a 
 good deal of better and more lucrative practice. 
 
 The practitioners of the present day hold a higher 
 rank, in consequence of their being more highly edu- 
 cated ; this is as it should be : at the same time, 
 they experience more difficulty in obtaining practice 
 than the apothecaries above alluded to. 
 
 In 1799, Mr. Merriman married his uncle's daugh- 
 ter, Ann, continuing, however, still to reside in his 
 uncle's house in Queen-street, May-fair, and prac- 
 tising as an apothecary a department he resolved to 
 abandon in 1807, finding that it interfered with his 
 increasing midwifery practice. He, therefore, entered 
 into partnership with Mr. Peregrine, of Half Moon- 
 street, to whom he soon relinquished the general 
 practice. 
 
 About this time a vacancy occurred in the office of
 
 346 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 physician-accoucheur to the Westminster General 
 Dispensary, by the death c f Dr. Boys. As the num- 
 ber of parturient women from this dispensary 
 amounted to from 500 to 600 every year, the appoint- 
 ment appeared valuable to Mr. Merriman; but the 
 degree of M.D. was required before he could be 
 elected. Hitherto he had practised upon the right 
 which the membership of the Society of Apothecaries 
 conferred, but it was recommended to him by Dr. 
 William Saunders and Dr. Willan, to apply to 
 Marischal College, Aberdeen, for the honorary diploma 
 granted by that university; and Dr. Vaughan (after- 
 wards Sir. H. Halford, Bart.), Drs. Matthew Baillie 
 and Andrew Bain, signed a testimonial in his favour. 
 Dr. Merriman, his uncle, gave a separate testimonial; 
 and Dr. Saunders also bore testimony to his abilities. 
 The professors of Marischal College, however, de- 
 clined to grant a diploma, until they had received a 
 second certificate, from some eminent practitioner, 
 stating that, he had personally examined the candi- 
 date. This difficulty was removed by the kindness 
 of Dr. Vaughan, who undertook the examination ; 
 and the degree was accordingly granted, A.D. 1808.. 
 The contest at the dispensary, between Dr. Clough, 
 who had a few years previously lost his election by 
 one vote only, and Dr. Merrimau, was warm and 
 close, and again ended in the defeat of Dr. Clough, 
 Dr. Merriman gaining the election, principally in 
 consequence of the exertions of Dr. Denman in his 
 behalf. He resigned this appointment in 1815, and 
 was appointed consulting physician-accoucheur, and 
 subsequently vice-president, of the charity. In 1814, 
 the governors, by an unanimous vote, presented to 
 him a handsome silver bread-basket, with a suitable 
 inscription.
 
 MEERIMAX. 347 
 
 In 1808, Dr. Merriman was appointed by the 
 governors of the poor of St. George's, Hanover-square, 
 to take charge of the midwifery cases in the parish 
 requiring extraordinary assistance a duty which he 
 performed for nineteen years. In 1809, by the death 
 of Dr. Poignand, vacancies occurred in the office of 
 physician man mid-wife to the Middlesex and West- 
 minster Lying-in Hospitals. It had been intended, 
 by Dr. Mayo, physician to the Middlesex Hospital, 
 to propose Dr. Thynne to fill the vacant office ; but 
 when Dr. Denman, at the weekly board, proposed 
 Dr. Merriman, Dr. Thynne declined to present him- 
 self. Dr. Roberton then presented himself, pleading 
 that Dr. Merriman was ineligible, because physician- 
 accoucheur to another institution. Upon this objection 
 being started, it was found necessary to call together 
 a special general meeting of the governors ; and by a 
 vote of twenty to one, it was resolved " That as much 
 of the bye-laws as relates to the disqualifying the phy- 
 sician man-midwife for belonging to any other charity 
 for sick and lame be suspended." On this Dr. 
 .Roberton withdrew ; and all opposition having sub- 
 sided, it was found difficult, on the day of election, 
 August 17, 1809, to collect a sufficient number of 
 governors to form a court. The hospital being in the 
 habit of giving to the physician man-midwife five 
 shillings for each case of labour attended, the inten- 
 tion being that one-half should be paid to the mid- 
 wife, and the other half remain in the hands of the 
 physician, in compensation for his expenses in coach- 
 hire when called to difficult labours, Dr. Merriman, 
 in a manner characteristic of the high and generous 
 spirit which always actuated him in his profession, 
 introduced the plan of giving the whole five shillings
 
 348 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 to the midwife, or to the patient, if attended by a 
 pupil, the premium being paid on her bringing back 
 the pupil's certificate of his attendance upon her. 
 The plan was found to work exceedingly well, and 
 is still continued. Dr. Merriraan's yearly reports to 
 the weekly board, on the state of the midwifery 
 department, are given at full length in the valuable 
 history of the hospital, by Erasmus Wilson, Esq. 
 
 Dr. Merriman commenced his lectures on mid- 
 wifery at the Middlesex Hospital, in 1810, and 
 continued them till 1825, when he resigned them to 
 Dr. Hugh Ley. These lectures were largely attended, 
 and very many of the practitioners now living in all 
 parts of England, recollect with great estet m their 
 former teacher. 
 
 While engaged in the duties described above, Dr. 
 Merriman received a note from Dr. Gooch, who was 
 ill, and had been obliged inconveniently to postpone 
 on that account the opening of his course of lectures 
 on midwifery at St. Bartholomew's Hospital ; he, 
 therefore, requested Dr. Merriman to give a portion 
 of the course for him. To this he acceded, and 
 during three courses, in 1820-1, he lectured at 
 Middlesex and St. Bartholomew's Hospitals, fre- 
 quently giving a morning and an evening lecture on 
 the same day. 
 
 It was then agreed by Drs. Gooch and Merriman 
 to continue the course of lectures conjointly, but when 
 this was submitted to the consideration of the medical 
 staff of the hospital, an objection was made that Dr. 
 Mrrriman had never been a pupil at St. Bartholo- 
 mew's, to the propriety of which objection he perfectly 
 assented, and withdrew his claims. Subsequently, 
 Dr. Conquest was appointed.
 
 MERRIMAN. 349 
 
 The decease of Sir Richard Croft augmented con- 
 siderably the number and rank of Dr. Merriman's 
 patients. He had been long enough in practice to 
 have acquired much reputation, and he now became 
 more extensively employed in consultation practice, 
 which induced him, in 1822, to remove to Brook- 
 street, Grosvenor-square. 
 
 Dr. Merriman took very great interest in the 
 Middlesex Hospital; from the time of his first con- 
 nexion with it he was a constant attendant at the 
 weekly board. This weekly board had recently been 
 changed from a close to an open board, in the hope 
 of raising the hospital from a state of insolvency. 
 This was the strong recommendation of Lord Robert 
 Seymour, the renovator of the hospital, to all the 
 governors ; and the success of the measure was most 
 gratifying. Dr. Merriman commenced the subscrip- 
 tions raised in 1833 for enlarging the hospital ; he 
 also begun the subscription in 1835 for founding the 
 medical school, and gave to the school the skeleton 
 of a native of Fort Macquarie, New South Wales. 
 He first obtained for the assistant-surgeon defined 
 and explicit duties, and brought forward the proposal 
 for having an assistant-physician. 
 
 Being fond of literary and archa3ological pursuits, 
 he hunted out the names of the persons represented 
 in the large picture in the board room, of the Earl of 
 Northumberland laying the first stone of the hospital 
 in 1755, in " Marybon-fields," as the locality was then 
 termed. He compiled the brief history of the hospital 
 prefixed to the laws and lists of governors. To him is 
 due, in a great measure, the application to Parliament 
 for the incorporation of the hospital, with power to 
 hold landed property, notwithstanding the statute of
 
 350 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 mortmain. He was honoured by the application of 
 the lecturers, for four successive years, to deliver the 
 prizes obtained in the medical school, and was 
 appointed one of the treasurers of the hospital, in 
 1840, an office which he held till 1845. 
 
 Dr. Merriraan early became, by purchase, a mem- 
 ber of the Society of Apothecaries, but was too much 
 engaged in practice to take much personal interest in 
 the endeavours to obtain a licensing body for the 
 future apothecaries. After several years' agitation of 
 this question, and after the two Colleges of I 3 hysicians 
 and Surgeons had refused to take upon themselves 
 the duty of examining candidates for general practice, 
 it was at last offered to, and accepted by, the Wor- 
 shipful Society of Apothecaries. 
 
 The Apothecaries of London had originally been 
 incorporated by King Edward III. with the Company 
 of Grocers ; other and extensive privileges were 
 granted to them in the reign of Henry VI. , and they 
 were finally separated from the Grocers, and formed 
 into a distinct Society, by James I. By the Act of 
 Parliament passed in 1815, power was given to the 
 Master, Wardens, and Court of Assistants of this 
 Society of Apothecaries, to elect annually twelve of 
 its members into a Court of Examiners, who should 
 examine and license all future apothecaries. The 
 first Court of Examiners, which assembled on 
 Thursday, the 1st of August, 1815, could not be very 
 strict as to the qualifications required from candi- 
 dates ; but the successive Courts of Examiners have 
 cautiously and gradually, but steadily, persevered in 
 imposing a higher and higher standard of qualification 
 from the candidates, and in the year 1828, they laid 
 down a code of regulations, from which a most
 
 MERRIMAN. 351 
 
 Decidedly good effect has resulted. In 1831, the 
 Court determined to require from students evidence 
 of their having attended lectures on midwifery ; and 
 expecting that it would have a good moral effect 
 upon the students to have upon the Court an 
 examiner fully acquainted with this branch of medi- 
 cine, they requested Dr. Merriinan to allow himself 
 to be proposed as a candidate for the office of 
 examiner^ he was accordingly elected by the Court 
 of Assistants, and was re-elected annually for six 
 years, when he retired in consequence of ill-health. 
 The wisdom evinced by the Court in this and many 
 other points, is amply proved by the distinguished 
 character the apothecaries of the present day bear, 
 and has had a collateral effect in inducing the propor- 
 tionate increase in the amount of knowledge now 
 required by the Colleges of Physicians and Surgeons 
 from the candidates seeking their licenses, above that 
 which was required at the time of the passing the 
 Apothecaries' Act. Dr. Merriman was shortly after- 
 wards elected one of the Court of Assistants of the 
 Society, but he did not serve the office of Master or 
 Warden, owing to the infirmities of age. He was 
 a member of the old Lyceum Medicum Londinense, 
 founded by John Hunter and Dr. George Fordyce, 
 which was at one time extensively supported, but gra- 
 dually crumbled away; so that when, in the year 1837, 
 an attempt was made to collect the names of the old 
 members, very few could be discovered. The object of 
 this inquiry was to ascertain whether the survivors 
 would be willing to transfer the funded property of the 
 Lyceum in the hands of Sir Alexander Crichton, the 
 sole remaining trustee, to the Society for the Relief of 
 Widows and Orphans of Medical Men in London
 
 352 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 and its Vicinity, or to have it equitably divided 
 amongst the survivors. It was, with only one dis- 
 sentient voice, finally agreed to make a present of the 
 money to that very excellent society. This exception 
 was the once celebrated political propagandist, John 
 Gale Jones, to whom had been awarded one of the 
 Lyceum Medicum Londinense gold medals, for his 
 prize essay on the Whooping-cough. Poor Jones was 
 now in great affliction and poverty ; he was nearly 
 blind, he had lost several of his children, arxf another, 
 a daughter, was at the point of death ; still he ex- 
 pressed his regrets that he was not able to do as much 
 as the other surviving members. To him, therefore, 
 was paid 10, much more than the amount which justly 
 belonged to him, and his last few days were rendered 
 more comfortable by the money so received few 
 indeed, for he only lived about a week afterwards. 
 Mr. Gale Jones had been in considerable practice as 
 a general surgeon, but his love of political excitement, 
 and his great power-as a public speaker, drew him 
 away from the sober paths of his profession, and 
 made him a reformer and a beggar. He was one of 
 the most effective speakers that ever addressed an 
 audience, and his speeches were much admired even 
 by some of the most thoughtful of his own profession. 
 The Lyceum Medicum Londinense had been succeeded 
 by the Westminster Medical Society, which met with 
 various turns of fortune ; latterly it had risen in 
 public estimation, and has now become united with 
 the long-established and well-known Medical Society 
 of London. 
 
 Dr. Merriman was for many years a fellow of the 
 Medical Society of London, in Bo]t-court, of the 
 Linnaean Society, and of the Royal Medical and
 
 MERRIMAN. 353 
 
 Chirurgical Society, to which he was elected trea- 
 surer in 1837, His resignation took place in 1847. 
 
 Dr. Merriman became a member of the Society for 
 the Relief of Widows and Orphans of Medical Men, 
 in 1800, and was for many years one of its treasurers. 
 
 Throughout his life, Dr. Merriman frequently sent 
 communications to the literary periodicals, besides 
 papers read before the Medical Societies, and pub- 
 lished in their Transactions. He also published 
 several separate works, on important subjects con- 
 nected with the branch of practice with which he 
 was more intimately connected. 
 
 His other literary productions are principally in the 
 Gentleman's Magazine, and deserve some notice. In 
 the seventeenth volume, new series, 1842, is a letter 
 identifying the various persons contained in a picture 
 by Hogarth, called " Cunicularii, or the Wise Men of 
 Godlimanin Consultation," a satire upon the notorious 
 impostor, Mary Toft, the Godliman rabbit-breeder. In 
 the nineteenth volume, 1843, is an interesting letter 
 touching upon the honours conferred on'medical men 
 viz., the peerage, baronetcies, membership of par- 
 liament, &c. ; and reference is made to the story, 
 that when Dr. Freind was imprisoned, Dr. Mead 
 attended his patients for him, and received 5,000 in 
 fees, which he handed to Dr. Freind on his release, 
 and reasons are given to prove that so large a sum 
 could not have been so received by Dr. Mead.* In 
 the twenty-second volume, 1844, are two" very 
 interesting letters on the " taking her chamber," or 
 "taking her rights," or "child-bed privilege," of 
 queens and great ladies, explaining what is meant by 
 those terms, and giving references to old authors who 
 * See Life of Mead, page 166. 
 
 A A.
 
 354 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 mention the subject. To the list of the authors may 
 now be added Miss Strickland, who, in her History 
 of Elizabeth, Queen of Henry VII., describes at 
 some length the ceremonies she went through on 
 " taking her chamber," a month or thereabouts, 
 before her confinement. In volume xxv., 
 1846, is an interesting memoir of the rise of the 
 father of medical booksellers, John Callow. In 
 yolume xxvi., 1846, is a memoir of Julian 
 Clement, the celebrated surgeon-accoucheur of Paris, 
 temp. Louis XIV., and of his journey into Spain 
 to attend the queen of that country in her confine- 
 ment. Also notices of Daniel Turner, M.D., and his 
 contemporaries ; and of Drs. Richard Bathurst and 
 William Baylies, formerly physicians of the Middle- 
 sex Hospital. Dr. Merriman's last contribution to 
 this celebrated periodical is a notice of Gideon de 
 Lawne and his family. He was an apothecary of 
 considerable eminence in the city of London in the 
 reign of James I., and to him the Society of Apo- 
 thecaries was much indebted for his liberality and 
 support. 
 
 Dr. Merriman was'very fond of noting down memo- 
 randa of medical and other scientific men whom he 
 had known personally or by repute ; and, possessing 
 an excellent memory, he was very often able to men- 
 tion incidents which are highly interesting to lovers 
 of literature. Two works, published some years ago, 
 the " Picture of the College of Physicians," and 
 Wadd's " Nugae Chirurgicae, &c." he has largely 
 illustrated with anecdotes of the persons mentioned ; 
 and he had a large collection of portraits of medical 
 men. Philological subjects also much interested 
 him, so that he was able to send articles to this and
 
 HERRIMAN. 355 
 
 other magazines and journals on a variety of different 
 subjects. 
 
 The following is a list of his more important con- 
 tributions to the Gentleman's Magazine : 
 
 1828. Part i. p. 290. Announcement that Miss Dayrolles 
 was the prototype of the " Miss Larolles " in Miss Burney'a 
 " Cecilia." 
 
 Ibid, p. 218. On Mr. Mace being Editor of the " New 
 Testament in Greek and English," &c. 
 
 1829. Part i. p. 408. On the word " Desight." 
 
 1831. Part i. p. 224. On the Translation of tcafir)\oQ in 
 the Gospels. (This subject is further elucidated by 
 S. W. J. M. in Vol. xxiv. New Series, A.D. 1845.) 
 
 1832. Part i. p. 10. Memoir of Thomas Morgan, author of 
 " The Moral Philosopher." 
 
 Ibid. p. 290. Reference given to the publication in the 
 Gentleman's Magazine for 1749 of the "Power of Innocence," 
 a Poem. 
 
 Ibid. Part ii. p. 228. 1833. Part i.- p. 209. On the word 
 " Aroint," used by Shakspere. 
 
 New Series. 1835. Vol. iii. p. 611. Reference to and 
 comments on a Poem addressed by Dr. Hannes to Sydenham. 
 
 1836. Vol. T. p. 32. On our Saviour's healing the 
 "Maimed." 
 
 Ibid. p. 224, Copy of a Letter from Sawrey Gilpin to the 
 first Dr. Merriman in 1792. 
 
 1837. Vol. vii. p. 434. Memoir of Dr. Hugh Ley. 
 
 1838. Vol. x. p. 672. Additions to obituary notice of 
 James Norris, Esq. 
 
 1839. Vol. xi. p. 450. Explanation of " Painted Coaches." 
 
 1839. Vol. xii. p. 204. Memoir of John Merriman, Esq. 
 Ibid. p. 257. Strictures on the new Life of Milton in 
 
 Lardner's Cabinet Cyclopedia, as reflecting on Dr. Johnson. 
 
 1840. Vol. xiv. p. 612. On Dr. Johnson's early knowledge 
 of Savage. 
 
 1841. Vol. xvi. p. 212. Memoir of Thomas Merriman, Esq. 
 Ibid. Vol. xviii. p. 251. Letter from Francis Const, Esq., 
 
 respecting his own family and that of the Potticary's. 
 
 1843. Vol. xix. p. 489. Observations on the rank of 
 
 A A 2
 
 356 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 Medical Men, and on Midwifery, in reply to " J. R." (A MS. 
 addition adds the name of Dr. Radcliffe to the list of M.P.s.) 
 
 Ibid. Vol. xx. p. 469. Letter of Matthew Guthrie, M.D. 
 to Maxwell Gartshorne, M.D. 1797. 
 
 Ibid. p. 145. Anecdotes of Daniel Turner, M.D., who 
 died 1741. 
 
 1846. Vol. xxv. p. 481. On the authorship of "The 
 Lounger's Commonplace Book." 
 
 Ibid. VoL xxvi. p. 153. Account of J. W. Newman, Esq, 
 the author. 
 
 Subsequently to this date increasing age and infir- 
 mities rendered Dr. Merriman's hours of employment 
 fewer and fewer ; hut, whenever he was able to 
 pursue his favourite avocations, he delighted himself, 
 his family, and friends by relating and recording 
 many interesting anecdotes. One of these latter 
 exercises deserves a separate notice, viz., an historical 
 retrospect of the science and practice of medicine, 
 published in the London Journal of Medicine under 
 the title of " The First of October, 1851, by an Octo- 
 genarian." 
 
 The few societies which Dr. Merriman was able 
 to attend at this advanced period of his life occu- 
 pied also his energetic mind, and Notes and Queries, 
 brought before his notice, received several interest- 
 ing articles from his richly-stored memory. Thus 
 employed, he awaited, with true Christian patience, 
 the hour that was to remove him from this world of 
 trouble to one of rest ; and he will long live in the 
 memory of his numerous friends as one of the most 
 affectionate and estimable of men. 
 
 Several portraits of Dr. Merriman were taken at 
 different periods, two of which only have been en- 
 graved ; one, a private plate ; the other was published 
 in the Lancet^ prefixed to a memoir.
 
 ME R RIM AN. 357 
 
 Mrs. Merriraan died 10th March, 1831, after suffer- 
 ings of the most acute description, endured for many 
 years. Their issue Avere : a daughter, Avho died 17th 
 June, 1844, having been married to the Rev. John 
 Ward, Vicar of Great Bedwyn, Wilts, now Rector 
 of Wath, in Yorkshire, by whom she had several 
 children ; another daughter, now living ; and a son, 
 the present Dr. Merriman, Consulting Physician to 
 the Westminster General Dispensary, and Physician 
 to the Royal Infirmary for Children. 
 
 It is not usually the fate of medical men to acquire 
 riches; some few, indeed, are super- eminently fortu- 
 nate in this respect, but the greater number must be 
 contented if, in their old age, they can avoid the res 
 angusta domi. This was the case with Dr. Merriman. 
 The largest amount of fees which,he ever received in 
 one year was somewhat above 4,000 ; but his ex- 
 penses were necessarily very great, and they were 
 increased by an afflicting illness in his family of 
 twelve years' duration. 
 
 Such is a concise but faithful and accurate account 
 of the career of one of the most amiable and excellent 
 practitioners that ever practised in this metropolis. 
 There are few surgeons, who have been any consider- 
 able time in general practice in London, who have 
 not, at one period or another, availed themselves of 
 the valuable opinion and profound knowledge of Dr. 
 Merriman in obstetric cases, or the diseases of women 
 and children. None who have had that opportunity 
 can ever forget his undeviating kindness and con- 
 sideration. To the youngest as to the oldest he 
 was, in every sense of the word, the professional 
 brother, and always won the esteem of the practitioner 
 as well as of [the patient. Nor must the generous
 
 358 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 conduct of Dr. Merriman be forgotten by those who 
 were not able to give him his fee. Indeed, he made 
 it a rule never to take a fee from clergymen with 
 small incomes, from governesses, or other persons 
 engaged in the duties of education. To himself such 
 a proceeding was no less an honour than to the pro- 
 fession of which he was so distinguished an ornament. 
 The last illness of Dr. Merriman was mercifully 
 curtailed. He had during the spring and summer 
 months attended with wonderful regularity, consi- 
 dering his age and infirmities, the weekly meetings 
 of the Directors of the Clerical, Medical, and General 
 Life Assurance Company, and the less frequent 
 Courts of Assistants of the Society of Apothecnries, 
 and had attended a meeting at the first-named 
 society only twelve days before his decease. At this 
 meeting it was observed by some of his brother 
 directors that they would hardly see him again at 
 the Board a prophetic declaration, truly, for three 
 days afterwards, viz., on Nov. 13th, he retired very 
 early to his bedroom, which he never again left alive. 
 His illness much resembled former attacks, but there 
 was a greater prostration of strength, in which the 
 mind, "hitherto so strong, partially suffered ; yet this 
 was the cause of a blessing to himself and to his 
 relatives, for having earnestly desired once more to 
 receive the Holy Communion, and the day on which 
 he was most equal to the exertion being one of 
 universal excitement the day appointed for the 
 funeral of the late Duke of Wellington so that the 
 administration of the sacrament could not then be 
 accomplished, his mind became impressed, doubtless 
 by the permission of the Almighty, with the belief 
 that he had partaken of this blessed communion,
 
 MERRIMAN. 359 
 
 and he calmly awaited that call which was to summon 
 him to the reward of his earnest and unceasing 
 endeavours, in a truly Christian spirit, to perform his 
 duties in equal measure to every one with whom he 
 came in contact. Four days afterwards, viz., Nov. 22, 
 1852, he quietly breathed his last, in fervent prayer 
 for all whom he was leaving, just four weeks after 
 the completion of his eighty-first year. 
 
 Though Dr. Merriman had only three children of 
 his own, yet he had the charge of five grand-nephews 
 and grand-nieces to his wife. Three of these he 
 educated from childhood, put them out in the w r orld, 
 and ever received them in his own house as a father; 
 the others were not thrown on his hands during early 
 childhood, but were entirely brought up by him 
 afterwards. His family was, therefore, virtually 
 eight children, and the burden fell heavily upon him 
 in his early professional career, when his income 
 depended ail but entirely upon his own exertions; 
 but his spirit was one to labour for the pleasure of 
 seeing others enjoy the fruits of that labour. For 
 years he was never absent from home more than one 
 or two days in the year; but he laboured on, rejoicing 
 that his exertions in London were enabling others to 
 recreate their health and strength in the country. 
 His thoughts were never for himself, but on what he 
 could do to benefit others who depended upon him. 
 Such a man could not be rich, for though his receipts 
 were large, his liberality expended freely : for a 
 friend to require assistance was enough he gave 
 willingly, and did not always receive again. Such is 
 the character of one whose childhood was spent in 
 moderate affluence, his youth in difficulties, and his 
 manhood in exertions to benefit others without regard 
 to the labours imposed on himself.
 
 360 
 
 SIR HENRY HALFORD. 
 
 THIS distinguished member of the medical profession 
 was the second son (the eldest son having died at an 
 earlj period) of Dr. James Vaughan, an eminent phy- 
 sician at Leicester, and was born in that town, on the 
 2nd of October, 1766. He was educated at Rugby, 
 and whilst there evinced that love of classical litera- 
 ture for which he was afterwards so distinguished. 
 He went from Rugby to Christchurch, Oxford, 
 and as a member of that house, proceeded A.B., 
 31st January, 1788; A.M., 17th June, 1788; 
 M.B., 14th January, 1790; M.D., 27th October, 
 1791.* Previously to taking his degrees in physic, 
 he had spent some months in Edinburgh, and he 
 practised for a short time in conjunction with his 
 father at Leicester. Dr. Vaughan came to London 
 about 1792, and consulting Sir George Baker on his 
 future prospects, was told that he stood little chance 
 in the metropolis for five years, during which time 
 he must continue to support himself from other 
 sources at the rate of about 300 a year. Nothing 
 daunted, and doubtless confident in his own powers, 
 he, with this intention (and the alternative, in case 
 of failure, of returning to Leicester, to take his 
 father's position), borrowed 1,000, and on that 
 
 * Such were the dates of Sir Henry Halford's degrees as 
 given in the " Catalogue of Oxford Graduates," 8vo., Oxford, 
 1851.
 
 ETALFORD. 361 
 
 capital commenced his career in London. He was 
 elected physician to the Middlesex Hospital, on the 
 20th of February, 1793; was admitted a candidate 
 of the Royal College of Physicians on the 25th of 
 March, 1793; and a fellow, on the 14th of April, 
 1794. 
 
 His Oxford connexions, elegant attainments, and 
 pleasing manners at once introduced him into good 
 society, and he secured a position among the aris- 
 tocracy by his marriage on the 31st of March, 1795, 
 to the Hon. Elizabeth Barbara St. John, the third 
 daughter of John, eleventh Lord St. John, of Bletsoe. 
 Dr. Vaughan's success from the very first would 
 seem to have been certain ; and Dr. Richard AVarren, 
 then one of the leading physicians in London, and a 
 man of shrewd observation and sound judgment, 
 predicted on his settling in town that he would rise 
 to the head of his profession. His progress towards 
 that position was rapid. In 1793, within a year of 
 his settlement in London, he was appointed physician- 
 extraordinary to the king ; and by the year 1800, his 
 private engagements had become so numerous, that 
 he was compelled to relinquish his hospital appoint- 
 ment. Other circumstances conspired to advance his 
 interests. After the death of Lady Denbigh, widow 
 of his mother's cousin, Sir Charles Halford, he 
 became possessed of an ample fortune, changed his 
 same in 1809, by act of parliament, from Yaughan 
 to Halford, and as a mark of royal favour, was 
 created a baronet on the 27th of September, 1809. 
 
 About this time, when in attendance on the 
 Princess Amelia, King George III. desired him, in 
 case of his Majesty's experiencing a relapse of his 
 mental derangement, to take the care of him, adding
 
 362 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 that Sir Henry must promise not to leave him, and 
 if he wanted further help, he should call Dr. 
 Heberden, and in case of further need, which would 
 necessarily occur if Parliament took up the matter, 
 Dr. Buillie. 
 
 On the illness of the King, which occurred soon 
 afterwards, Sir Henry Halford, though physician- 
 exiraordinary only, was summoned to attend ; and 
 his prompt introduction of Dr. Heberden and Dr. 
 Baillie, at once insured the confidence of the Queen 
 and of the Prince of Wales, the latter of whom 
 appointed Sir Henry one of his physicians-in-ordinary, 
 and secured for him in 1812 the appointment of 
 physician-in-ordinary to the King. The confidence 
 then reposed in Sir Henry by the Prince was con- 
 tinued when the latter came to the throne, he was 
 appointed physician-in-ordinary to George IV., and 
 he held the same position in the medical establish- 
 ments of William IV., and of her present Majesty, 
 Queen Victoria. Sir Henry Halford was thus physi- 
 cian-in-ordinary to four successive sovereigns an 
 honour never before enjoyed by any English physi- 
 cian. At the death-bed of three of these it was his 
 melancholy privilege to minister. Almost every 
 member of the Royal Family from the time of 
 George III. had been under Sir Henry's professional 
 care. His attentions to the Duke of York during his 
 last illness were so unremitting, that to manifest the 
 sense entertained of them, he received, by Royal 
 warrant, a grant of armorial augmentations and 
 supporters. His arms were previously : argent, a 
 greyhound passant, sable; on a chef azure, three fleurs- 
 de-lis, or. For the centre fleur-de-lis was substituted 
 a rose argent, and in further augmentation, was added
 
 HALFORD. 303 
 
 on a canton ermine, a staff entwined with a serpent 
 proper, and ensigned with a coronet, composed of 
 crosses patee and fleurs-de-lis (being that of a prince 
 of the blood-royal). As a crest of augmentation, a 
 staff entwined with a serpent, or, as on the canton. 
 As supporters, two emews proper, each gorged with 
 a coronet, composed of crosses patee and fleurs-de-lis. 
 
 Upon the decease of George IV., Sir Henry re- 
 ceived another flattering proof of royal esteem and 
 appreciation: a very splendid clock, surmounted by a 
 bust of his Majesty, was presented to him by the 
 Royal Family, in evidence, as the inscription states, 
 " of their esteem and regard, and in testimony of the 
 high sense they entertain of his professional abilities 
 nd unwearied attention to their late beloved sister, 
 the Princess Amelia, her late Majesty Queen Char- 
 lotte, his late Majesty King George III., his late 
 Royal Highness the Duke of York, and, lastly, of his 
 Majesty George IV." 
 
 Sir Henry Halford's progress and eminence among 
 his professional brethren, and in the College of Phy- 
 sicians, were no less rapid and distinguished than 
 with the public and the royal family. His attain- 
 ments as a practical physician were of the very highest 
 order. Though inferior, it is said, to Dr. Baillie in 
 accuracy of diagnosis, he was undoubtedly superior to 
 him in that which constitutes the real aim and office 
 of the physician the cure and alleviation of disease. 
 In this point of view, Sir Henry Halford attained to 
 consummate skill. Endowed with quick perception, 
 a sound judgment, and an almost intuitive knowledge 
 of the powers of medicines, he wielded the resources 
 of his art with a confidence, precision, and success, 
 which was unapproached by any of his contempo- 
 raries. For many years he shared with Dr. Baillie
 
 364 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 the highest professional honours, confidence, and 
 emoluments of the metropolis ; and on the deatli of 
 that great anatomist, in 1823, he was left without a 
 rival. Thenceforward, until overtaken by age and 
 illness, he maintained an indisputable pre-eminence 
 in the profession. 
 
 No sketch of Sir Henry Halford's life would be 
 complete without especial reference to his long and 
 distinguished connexion with the Royal College of 
 Physicians. Throughout the whole of his success- 
 ful career, and even when most oppressed by the 
 arduous and harassing duties of his extensive profes- 
 sional business, Sir Henry was ever attentive to the 
 highest interests of that learned body, and ready and 
 anxious to devote himself, his energies, and influence 
 to the furtherance of its welfare and the maintenance 
 of its dignity. He served the office of Censor in 
 1795, 1801, 1815 ; he delivered the Harveian Oration 
 in 1800, and again in 1835 ; he was named an Elect, 
 the 6th of February, 1815, and on the 30th of Sep- 
 tember, 1820, was elected President an office to 
 which he was annually and unanimously re-elected, 
 and the duties of which he continued to perform 
 with honour to the College and credit to himself, till 
 his death, on the 9th of March, 1844, in the 78th 
 year of his age. 
 
 To Sir Henry Halford's energy and exertions the 
 College of Physicians mainly owe their removal from 
 Warwick-lane to Pall Mall East. The inconveni- 
 ence of the former situation, the rapidly increasing 
 and almost irremediable dilapidations of the buildings 
 of the old College, with the consequent deterioration 
 of the property, had long been seen and lamented. 
 Various attempts towards repair or removal had been 
 made, but each and all had proved abortive. On
 
 HALFORD. 365 
 
 Sir Henry's election to the ofBce of President, he 
 applied his energies to the furtherance of an object 
 which the fellows had much at heart, but had not 
 dared to encounter. Mainly through Sir Henry 
 Halford's influence, a grant of the ground on which 
 the College now stands was obtained from the 
 Crown ; the fellows lent their pecuniary aid by 
 donations, subscriptions, and loans ; the present col- 
 lege was commenced, and on the 25th of June, 1825, 
 was opened by Sir Henry Halfbrd with an eloquent 
 Latin oration, delivered to an audience of upwards of 
 three hundred persons, among whom were their 
 Royal Highnesses the Dukes of York, Sussex, 
 Cambridge, Gloucester, the Prince Leopold, and a 
 brilliant assemblage of the most noble and learned of 
 the land. The King, on the morning of the opening 
 of the College had been graciously pleased to confer 
 on the President the star of a Knight-Commander 
 of the Guelphic Order, and William 1\ T . subse- 
 quently promoted him to be Grand Cross. Sir 
 Henry, in testimony of his appreciation of the 
 "noble exertions" which the fellows had made to 
 furnish the means of rebuilding the College, munifi- 
 cently defrayed the expenses (amounting to 300) 
 of the splendid collation provided on the occasion 
 of the opening. 
 
 The debt of gratitude due from the College of Phy- 
 sicians to Sir Henry Halford, for his unwearied exer- 
 tions in its behalf, cannot be overrated. It has been 
 respectfully acknowledged in several of the Harveian 
 Orations in none, however, with equal elegance, or 
 with so happy a sketch of the President's character, 
 as in the eloquent oration of 1848 by Dr. Francis 
 Hawkins : " Ecquis enim unquam fuit, vel Medicus 
 clarior, vel litteris perpolitior, vel Collegii amantior.
 
 366 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 vel omnibus fere acceptior ? Sit mihi fas in hoc 
 dilecto nomine paulisper immorari. Erat, ut nostis, 
 ad morbos dijudicandos sagax, ad sublevandos pol- 
 lens ; ingenii acumine, remediorum copia, pariter 
 insignis. Nolite autem existimare, Auditores, eum 
 ingenii vi aut acumine tantammodo esse confisum. 
 Vobis ego hoc confirmare possum, vel diligentissime 
 eum juvenilem aetatem egisse. Tuto, prius, et scien- 
 ter, armis uti perdidicerat, quam celeriter et venuste. 
 Studio igitur et labore extitit Medicus, plenus et per- 
 fectus, cui nihil neque a Natura denegatum, neque a 
 Doctrina non delatum esse videretur. 
 
 " Mores hominum et vitse consuetudinem apprime 
 callebat; atque is erat qui, facillime citissimeque, 
 mentes omnium sensusque degustaret. Ejus erat 
 proprium maxime, ' scire uti foro ; ' et laus ea, non 
 ultima 
 
 " ' Principibus placuisse viris.' 
 
 Erga omnes erat benevolus, quippe, suapte natura, 
 suavis et benignus ; quippe, cum dolentibus optime 
 mederi soleret, a dolore quovis animanti cuiquam 
 incutiendo refugiebat. Itaque, vir erat plurimis 
 amicitiis, inimicitiis perpaucis aut nullis : nam si 
 forte dissensio aliqua incidisset, quamprimum redire 
 in gratiam gestiebat animus. 
 
 " Ardebat, mihi credite, singular! quodam amore 
 in hoc Collegium, cui, tamdiu, omnium concessu, 
 praBfuit. Quid enim ? testabor has ipsas sedes ? quas, 
 maximis curis et laboribus suis, nobis adparavit ; 
 quas dedicavit oratione pura sic, ut Latine loqui 
 poene solus videretur; quas igitur ei, quern prope 
 dixerim Conditorem nostrum quintum, perpetuo fore 
 monumento prorsus existimo. Hie, hie inquam, si 
 quaBrat quispiam Halfordi monumentum, circumspi- 
 ciat."
 
 HALFORD. 367 
 
 Sir Henry Halford was a Fellow of the Royal and 
 Antiquarian Societies, and a trustee of Rugby School ; 
 and, in virtue of his office as President of the College 
 of Physicians, was President of the National Vaccine 
 Establishment, and a Trustee of the British Museum. 
 
 He died from the effects of natural decay, attended 
 with much neuralgic pain, at his house in Curzon- 
 street, May Fair, on the 9th of March, 1844, and 
 was buried in the Church of Wistow, Leicestershire, 
 where a monument to his memory bears the following 
 inscription : 
 
 HENRICO HALFORD, Baronetto, G.C.H., 
 
 Ex .<Ede Christ! apud Oxonienses, M.D. 
 
 Jacob! Vaughau, Medici clari 
 
 Filio clariori : 
 Qui Sobrini sui Caroli Halford, Baronetti 
 
 (Eidem ordini et ipse adscriptus), 
 Hsereditatem ex Testamento et nomen suscepit. 
 
 Medicorum Coll. Reg. Londin. 
 
 Cum plausu et favore omnium Annos XXIV. preefuit. 
 Regum Georgii III., Georgii IV., Gulielmi IV. 
 
 Medicus Ordinarius ; 
 Necnon a plerisque ejusdem stirpis principibus 
 
 In opem familiariter vocatus. 
 
 Ad morbos dijudicandos sagax ad sublevandos pollens 
 
 Ingenii acumine, remediorum copia pariter insignia 
 
 Artem quam moribus ornabat, 
 
 Late et feliciter exercebat, 
 
 Literis humanioribus admodum imbutus, 
 
 Vixit omnibus acceptus, erga omnes benevolus. 
 
 Natus die Octobris ii. A.S. MDCCLXVI. 
 
 Obiit die Mart. ix. A.S. MDCCCXLIV. 
 
 In solo Salutis Auctore Jesu Christo 
 
 Spem vitse immortalis cmnem collocavit. 
 
 Filius gratus pius 
 
 H.M. fac. cur.* 
 
 * The pen of the accomplished Registrar of the College of
 
 368 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 Sir Henry Halford's early success as a physician 
 left him but little leisure for composition. His two 
 essays in the Medical Transactions the one on the 
 " Climacteric Disease," the other on the " Necessity 
 of Caution in the Estimation of Symptoms in the last 
 steps of some Diseases" the only strictly medical 
 writings from his pen, are of a character to make us 
 regret that his contributions to our professional lite- 
 rature were not more numerous. His remaining 
 essays were read at the evening meetings of the Col- 
 lege, before a mixed assemblage, and are, therefore, 
 necessarily of a somewhat popular character. They 
 were admirably adapted to the occasion, and they 
 afford abundant proof of Sir Henry's elegant taste 
 and classical attainments. His two Harveian Ora- 
 tions, and his Oration on the opening of the new 
 College, are models of Latin composition, while his 
 " Nuga? Metricse," written chiefly in his carriage, and 
 in the course of his professional rounds, testify to his 
 ability in the composition of Latin poetry. 
 
 Physicians, Dr. Hawkins, is, we are sure, to be recognised in 
 this elegant inscription.
 
 369 
 
 PARIS. 
 
 JOHN AYRTON PARIS, M.D., was born at Cambridge, 
 on the 7th of August, 1785, and was baptized at St. 
 Benedict's in that town, on the 7th of September 
 following. He was the son of Thomas Paris, of 
 Cambridge, Gent., by his wife Elizabeth Clay, the 
 eldest daughter of Edward Ayrton, of Trinity 
 College, Doctor of Music. Of the former we can 
 recover no particulars ; the latter, who is represented 
 as a woman of strong and cultivated mind, survived 
 to witness her son's eminence, and died at Chester, 
 on the 8th of January, 1847, aged 84. 
 
 His early education was of a domestic nature, and, 
 if I am correctly informed, his mother was for many 
 years his only tutor. When about twelve years of 
 age he was placed under Mr. Barker, of Trinity 
 Hall, Cambridge, with whom he remained one year. 
 He was then sent for two years to the Grammar 
 School of Linton, under Dr. Curteis. Of the progress 
 which he made at Linton, I have not been able to 
 obtain any particulars. Subsequently he was removed 
 to London, and placed under the private tuition of 
 Dr. Bradley, one of the physicians to the Westminster 
 Hospital, an accomplished mathematician and a good 
 classical scholar. With him he read Latin and Greek, 
 and acquired some knowledge of botany. 
 
 He was matriculated at Cambridge as a pensioner 
 of Caius College, on the 17th of December, 1803; 
 
 B B
 
 370 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 and was elected to a Tancred Studentship in Physic on 
 the 3rd of January, 1804. In this capacity he 
 made the Tancred speech, in October, 1808. 
 From the commencement of his career at Cambridge, 
 he evinced that strong predilection for natural philo- 
 sophy which characterized his future life. He was a 
 diligent student of chemistry under Professor Parish, 
 and of mineralogy under Dr. Clarke. He obtained 
 the special notice of these two distinguished teachers, 
 and the friendship and countenance of Mr. Smithson 
 Tennant. From Cambridge he proceeded to Edin- 
 burgh, then at the zenith of its reputation as a school 
 of practical medicine, and became the friend and 
 intimate companion of some of the most distin- 
 guished men who then adorned the Northern capital. 
 His sojourn in Edinburgh was for improvement in 
 the practical part of physic, and he attended with 
 much diligence the lectures of Dr. James Gregory, 
 whose masculine understanding, sound judgment, 
 and extensive learning commanded his highest admi- 
 ration. His love for chemistry and natural philo- 
 sophy was, however, still predominant. He perfected 
 the knowledge he had acquired at Cambridge, by 
 attendance on Dr. Hope and Mr. Playfair, and was 
 one of the most active members of the Apparatus, or 
 Philosophical Committee of the Royal Medical 
 Society. 
 
 Dr. Paris took his degree of Bachelor of Medicine 
 at Cambridge, July 2, 1808; a license ad practican- 
 dum from the University shortly afterwards ; and 
 then proceeded to London. Here he had the good 
 fortune to attract the notice of Dr. Maton, who, 
 struck by the extent and accuracy of his chemical 
 knowledge) and the versatility of his genius, held out
 
 PARIS. 371 
 
 to him the hand of friendship, warmly espoused his 
 interests, and constituted himself, in the highest sense 
 of the term, his patron. In the early part of .1809 
 Dr. Maton resigned his office of Physician to the 
 Westminster Hospital, and owing probably to that 
 gentleman's recommendation, Dr. Paris, by a resolu- 
 tion of the house committee, was requested to 
 undertake the duties until a successor could be 
 appointed. Shortly after this he was attacked with 
 fever, and was unable to attend on the day fixed for 
 the reception of candidates. His credentials were, 
 however, presented by his relative, Mr. William 
 Ayrton, and on April 14, 1809, being then but twenty- 
 three years of age, he was elected physician to the 
 hospital by an overwhelming majority over his 
 competitor, Dr. Donald Mackinnon. Dr. Paris 
 entered on the duties of his office with ardour, and 
 soon afterwards commenced a course of lectures on 
 pharmaceutic chemistry. On the llth of December, 
 1809, he married Mary Catherine, the eldest daughter 
 of Francis Noble, Esq., of Fordham Abbey, Cam- 
 bridgeshire. 
 
 By his lectures and his writings (for he had pub- 
 lished a " Memoir on the Physiology of the Egg," 8vo., 
 London, 1810 ; " A Syllabus of a Course of Lectures 
 on Pharmaceutic Chemistry," 8vo., London, 1811; 
 and " Pharmacologia, or, the History of Medical 
 Substances," 12mo., London, 1812), Dr. Paris had 
 already attained a name among his contemporaries, 
 and was regarded as one of the most rising members 
 of his profession, when a circumstance occurred 
 which exerted an important influence on his future 
 career. The death, in 1813, of Dr. John Bingham 
 Borlase, the early instructor of Sir Humphry Davy, 
 
 BB 2
 
 372 BEITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 and for many years the leading physician at Penzance 1 
 left a vacancy in that part of Cornwall, which many 
 of the resident families were anxious to have 
 efficiently supplied. Some influential gentlemen 
 applied to Dr. Maton to recommend them a physician. 
 He named Dr Paris, who, after some hesitation, was 
 induced for a time to forego his prospects in London 
 and remove thither. Previously thereto he returned 
 to Cambridge, was created Doctor of Medicine, July 6, 
 1813,* resigned his office at the Westminster 
 Hospital, and having, on the 30th of September, 
 1813, been admitted a candidate of the Royal 
 College of Physicians, he proceeded to Penzance, 
 carrying with him letters of introduction and 
 recommendation to the first families in Cornwall, 
 most of which had been procured for him by Dr. 
 Maton. 
 
 Dr. Paris's progress in Cornwall was rapid beyond 
 his expectations. His first year's receipts more than 
 doubled the largest amount which Dr. Borlase had 
 ever obtained, and his progress onwards was un- 
 interrupted. He was admitted on terms of intimacy 
 and friendship by the best families in the county. 
 He co-operated with them in every effort for the 
 advancement of science, and he urged them to 
 exertions which, without him, would never have 
 been made. At Cambridge, Dr, Paris had applied 
 himself with enthusiasm to mineralogy, and when 
 settled in Cornwall, a county beyond all others 
 
 * Dr. Paris was admitted M.D. July 8th, 1812, the earliest 
 day possible, viz., the day after Commencement Tuesday, 
 but he could not be created Doctor till Commencement 
 Tuesday, 1813, vie., July 6th. He is technically called a 
 Poctor of the year 1813.
 
 PARIS. 373 
 
 favourable to the study of that and the allied science 
 of geology, he devoted his leisure hours to these 
 attractive subjects. Lamenting that such vast oppor- 
 tunities for original research as were there presented 
 should be neglected, and anxious to systematize 
 efforts and foster them to maturity, he proposed, and 
 with the co-operation of scientific friends established, 
 the Royal Geological Society of Cornwall. 
 
 The first meeting was held on the 1 1 th of February, 
 1814, when Dr. Paris delivered an able address, and 
 was appointed secretary. The objects of tbe Society, 
 as stated by himself, were to cultivate the sciences of 
 mineralogy and geology in a district better calculated 
 perhaps for such pursuits than any other spot in 
 Europe to register the new facts which are con- 
 tinually presenting themselves in the mines ; and to 
 place on permanent record, the history of phenomena 
 which had hitherto been entrusted to oral tradition. 
 But above all, its object was to bring science, in 
 alliance with art, to prevent the accidents which had 
 so frequently occurred from explosion in the opera- 
 tion of blasting rocks ; and, in short, to render all 
 the resources of speculative truth subservient to the 
 ends of practical improvement. 
 
 The Society thus inaugurated has been long esta^ 
 Wished on a firm and lasting basis. It now ranks 
 among the leading scientific associations of the age ; 
 and has issued several volumes of transactions, con- 
 taining essays of the utmost value and interest. Dr. 
 Paris's contributions were neither few nor unim- 
 portant : they comprise papers, " On a recent Forma- 
 tion of Sandstone occurring in various parts of the 
 Northern Coasts of Cornwall;" "On the Accidents 
 which occur in the Mines of Cornwall in consequence
 
 374 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 of the premature Explosion of Gunpowder in blasting 
 rocks, and on the Methods to be adopted for prevent- 
 ing it, by the introduction of a Safety Bar, and an 
 instrument termed the Shifting Cartridge;" "Ob- 
 servations on the Geological Structure of Cornwall;" 
 ' On Gregorite ( Manacchanite ) discovered at 
 Lanarth ;" " On a New Substance found accompany- 
 ing Welsh Culm," and " Stones and Clays annually 
 exported from Cornwall, for the purposes of Archi- 
 tecture, Manufactures, and the Arts." 
 
 The Safety Bar, described in the second of the 
 papers above mentioned, has come into general use, 
 and has proved an inestimable boon to the Cornish 
 miner. In practical value, it is second only to the 
 Safety Lamp of Davy, and like that, should confer 
 immortality on the name of its inventor. "By this 
 simple but admirable invention," says a writer in the 
 Times, " Dr. Paris, no doubt, saved more lives than 
 many heroes have destroyed." 
 
 Agriculture, too, attracted some portion of Dr. 
 Paris's attention, and he communicated to the 
 Penwith Agricultural Society a valuable paper " On 
 the Soils of Cornwall, with a view to form a rational 
 System of Improvement by the judicious Application 
 of Mineral Manure." This was printed at the request 
 of the Society, and published at Penzance in 1815. 
 About the same time, he issued anonymously an in- 
 teresting little work, " A Guide to the Mount's Bay 
 and the Land's End." The first edition was soon 
 exhausted. A second, much enlarged and improved, 
 appeared some time after its author had quitted 
 Cornwall. 
 
 Dr. Paris had never intended to make a lengthened 
 stay in Cornwall, and he took leave of the county in
 
 PARIS. 375 
 
 1817, in a "Memoir of the Life and Scientific 
 Labours of the late Rev. Wm. Gregor, A.M.," an 
 attached personal friend, who had distinguished him- 
 self by the discovery of Manacchanite, or, as it has 
 since been termed, Gregorite. This elegant bio- 
 graphical sketch was read before the Geological 
 Society of Cornwall at the anniversary meeting of 
 1817, an d. was published by request. In it he 
 announces his approaching departure, and takes an 
 affectionate farewell of the Society he had himself 
 founded. His brief sojourn in the county probably 
 exerted no unimportant influence on his subsequent 
 career in London. He had made friends among the 
 aristocracy and gentry of Cornwall, and their influ- 
 ence was now exerted to advance his interests in the 
 metropolis. 
 
 On Dr. Paris's return to London in 1817, ne tk 
 up his abode in Sackville-street, but in the following 
 year removed to Dover-street, Piccadilly. At this 
 period he began a course of lectures on Materia 
 Medica in AVindmill-street, which were continued 
 for several successive years, and contributed greatly 
 to his reputation. To a perfect knowledge of 
 chemistry and botany, sound common sense, and a 
 keen perception of the fallacies with which his subject 
 had in the lapse of ages been encumbered, he added 
 the charms of elegant language, abundant classical 
 illustration, and a fund of anecdote which could not 
 fail to rouse and rivet the attention of his pupils. 
 He soon became one of the most popular lecturers 
 on Materia Medica in London, and attracted a con- 
 siderable class, among which were many of the most 
 distinguished physicians of the present day. 
 
 The College of Physicians (of which he had been
 
 376 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 admitted a Fellow, September 30, 1814), had about 
 this time become possessed of one of the most com- 
 plete collections of Materia Medica in Europe. That 
 collected by Dr. Burges, and presented to the College 
 after his death by Mr. E. A. Brande, to whom it was 
 bequeathed, had recently been collated with the 
 cabinet of Dr. Coombe, purchased for that purpose ; 
 and the College, anxious to make it available for 
 instruction and improvement, instituted (out of their 
 own funds) an annual course of lectures on Materia 
 Medica. The scientific attainments of Dr. Paris, 
 and the reputation he had already attained as a 
 lecturer, pointed him out as the proper occupant of 
 the new chair. In June, 1819, he entered on the 
 duties of the office by the delivery of a short series of 
 Lectures on the Philosophy of the Materia Medica. 
 The substance of these elegant discourses was intro- 
 duced into the third edition of the " Pharmacologia," 
 and its publication constitutes an epoch in the history 
 of the science and art of prescribing. Dr. Paris 
 retained his office of Lecturer on Materia Medica at 
 the College until 1826, in which year he took for 
 his subject the recent additions to the Materia 
 Medica, with all the new discoveries in chemistry 
 which had reference to that subject. The attendance 
 on these, the first lectures delivered at the New 
 College in Pall Mall East, was so large, that numbers 
 went away unable to obtain even standing room in 
 the theatre. 
 
 Of Dr. Paris's subsequent career but little need be 
 said. The unvaried tenor of a physician's life affords 
 few opportunities for remark, and rarely furnishes any 
 extraordinary incidents. From the period at which 
 we have now arrived, his fame and his practice
 
 PARIS. 377 
 
 steadily increased, and, although he never attained to 
 the extensive professional engagements of a Baillie, a 
 Halford, or a Chambers, he enjoyed for more than a 
 quarter of a century a very select and highly respect- 
 able practice. "To Dr. Paris," writes one who 
 evidently knew him well, "the office of physician 
 was no hireling's work, to be hurried through for the 
 purpose of accumulating a fortune, or earning distinc- 
 tion. It was the business and glory of his life." 
 
 As a practical physician, Dr. Paris was deservedly 
 esteemed. His medical knowledge had been matured 
 with care, and his discriminating sagacity enabled 
 him to apply his collected stores with equal readiness 
 and accuracy. His retentive memory and unruffled 
 observation permitted him to meet each exigence by 
 resources well adapted to regulate the operations 
 of nature in circumstances the most alarming. In 
 the sick-room he was cautious and thoughtful, im- 
 passive and imperturbable. His examination of a 
 patient was peculiar, and to the rising generation of 
 physicians might appear superficial and insufficient. 
 He laid much stress upon the information to be 
 derived from the general aspect of his patient, and 
 his knowledge of the physiognomy of disease was 
 minute and accurate. A few well-directed questions 
 led him to the seat of the malady, and this once 
 established, three or four more sufficed for all the 
 purposes of diagnosis and of treatment. In the last- 
 named, the all-important part of the physician's 
 office, Dr. Paris was probably unrivalled. Few 
 have possessed a more accurate knowledge of 
 remedial agents ; none of his contemporaries em- 
 ployed them with greater accuracy, confidence, or 
 success. Fully sensible of the value of properly
 
 378 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 directed combination, his prescriptions were at once 
 elegant and efficient. Notwithstanding it may 
 rather be in virtue of his knowledge he was no 
 lavish prescriber of drugs. He knew when these 
 were no longer necessary when diet, or regimen, or 
 Nature alone was sufficient for the contest. He 
 dwelt much on general principles, and was loath to 
 act without a precise indication. In the last case in 
 which the writer met him a case of much anxiety, 
 and during many days of imminent danger he stu- 
 diously avoided all medicines, and, after dwelling on 
 the absence of a definite indication, concluded the 
 consultation with the aphorism of Boerhaave : 
 
 " Abstine si methodum nescis." 
 
 The result proved the wisdom of his advice. 
 
 By his colleagues of the College of Physicians, he 
 vras held in the highest respect. He served the office 
 of Censor in 1817, 1828, 1836, 1843; and of Con- 
 siliarius in 1836 and 1842. He was named an Elect on 
 the 25th of June, 1839, and he delivered the Harveian 
 oration in 1843. On the 20th of March, 1844 (at the 
 vacancy occasioned by the death of Sir HenryHalford), 
 he was elected President of the College, an office to 
 which he was annually re-appointed, and which he 
 continued to fill to the time of his death. For 
 twelve years he occupied this distinguished position, 
 and conducted the affairs of the College with 
 exemplary firmness, judgment, and kindness. Supe- 
 rior to his predecessor in scientific knowledge, he 
 was inferior to him in classical attainments. The one 
 was an accomplished philosopher the other an 
 elegant scholar. Dr. Paris was educated at Cam- 
 bridge Sir Henry Halford at Oxford. Both were
 
 PARIS. 379 
 
 brilliant examples of the peculiar discipline and ten- 
 dencies of their respective universities at that period ; 
 and both were calculated, though in different ways, 
 to shed lustre on the learned body over which they so 
 long and so ably presided. 
 
 We now approach the close of Dr. Paris's career. 
 He had long suffered from disease of the urinary organs, 
 and, although subject to frequent attacks of agonizing 
 pain, he preserved so caiman exterior that few suspected 
 the existence, none the degree, of the malady which 
 was bringing him to the grave. The death of Mrs. 
 Paris, to whom he was tenderly devoted, added mental 
 anguish to bodily sufferings. She died June 24, 
 1855, ot a disease which his skill could not cure, and 
 which it could not always alleviate. His distress was 
 that deep feeling of the heart which disdains the 
 weakness of complaint. The feeling itself might 
 have been too acute to admit of this alleviation, for 
 trifling afflictions are alone querulous, or his philo- 
 sophy might have checked the rising sigh. From 
 this bereavement; he never thoroughly recovered. 
 For several months before his death indications of 
 failing bodily powers might be perceived. He be- 
 came perceptibly thinner, and was exhausted by 
 efforts which a short time previously had been borne 
 with impunity. His mental powers remained, how- 
 ever, as vigorous as ever. "The last ten days of 
 his life were spent in the midst of excruciating 
 sufferings, which were borne with the most remark- 
 able fortitude. His chief concern appeared to be to 
 console and comfort those around him, who could ill 
 disguise their grief at the impending and irreparable 
 loss. His intellect remained to the last as clear as at 
 any time of his life ; and while power of speech
 
 380 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 remained, no one who listened to him could believe 
 that the end was so near at hand." He died at his 
 house in Dover-street, on the morning of the 24th of 
 December, 1856, in the 72nd year of his age, and 
 was buried by the side of his wife at Woking 
 Cemetery. 
 
 Dr. Paris' s mental powers, which were naturally 
 strong, had undergone that discipline which a com- 
 plete university education, and a deep study of 
 chemistry, are so well calculated to impart. His 
 memory was large, and singularly tenacious, a fact 
 once acquired was never lost a passage once read he 
 could reproduce at pleasure. The leading feature of 
 his mind was a comprehensive clearness. What he 
 perceived he saw distinctly; what he had contem- 
 plated was present to his mind under all its different 
 relations, and with all its varied connexions. He 
 possessed a vigorous imagination and a ready wit ; 
 and was keenly alive to the facetiae of human cha- 
 racter. His reading had been extensive, but discur- 
 sive rather than deep. The impressions he had 
 received were preserved in their primitive strength 
 and in their original words, and his good sense and 
 sound judgment led him to apply them with admira- 
 ble effect. To an extensive knowledge of natural 
 philosophy, he added a competent acquaintance with 
 ancient and modern literature, of which his excel- 
 lent memory enabled him to make the best use. 
 He had a great command of language, and his 
 choice of words was singularly happy. His writings 
 are characterized by an elegance peculiarly his own. 
 Their diffuseness, depending as it does on the 
 number and variety of his illustrations, and the 
 frequency and beauty of his metaphors, adds to,
 
 PARIS. 381 
 
 rather than detracts from, the pleasure of their 
 perusal. 
 
 His general attainments, conversational powers, 
 quickness of repartee, and fund of anecdote, which 
 he told with the happiest effect, rendered him an 
 acquisition to any society. Under a plain exterior, 
 he possessed many of the best qualities of our nature. 
 To a manly straightforwardness of purpose and of 
 action, and an intense hatred of dissimulation or 
 pretence, were added considerable self-possession and 
 marked decision of character. He was slow, but 
 sincere and firm, in his friendships. Those admitted 
 to his intimacy can testify to the kindness of his dis- 
 position and the warmth of his heart. 
 
 Dr. Paris has been represented as an accomplished 
 classical scholar. We can find no ground for the 
 assertion that he was distinguished at Cambridge for 
 classical attainments; and those who knew him best 
 are aware that he made no pretensions to excellence 
 in that department of literature. He possessed that 
 amount of classical knowledge which marks the edu- 
 cated English gentleman, but he could lay no claim 
 to the character of a finished or critical scholar. His 
 Harveian Oration was characterized rather by the 
 beauty of its ideas than by the elegance of the lan- 
 guage in which they were conveyed. 
 
 His knowledge of chemistry was extensive 
 and profound. To this fascinating science he had 
 early devoted himself; and he attracted notice on 
 first settling in London, by the extent and precision 
 of his chemical attainments. These brought him into 
 communication with Wollaston, Davy, Young, and 
 others, at a period when chemistry was undergoing 
 one of the most important revolutions which its his-
 
 382 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 tory presents, and Avas assuming its rank among the 
 most exact and demonstrative of the inductive 
 sciences. The association with these distinguished 
 philosophers maintained his interest in that science. 
 Notwithstanding the distractions of an increasing 
 practice, he still devoted much of his time to chemis- 
 try, and, until within a short period of his death, kept 
 himself on a level with the rapid advances it was 
 making. Although his name is not associated with 
 any great discovery, the respect in which he was held 
 and the deference paid to his opinions by the first 
 chemical philosophers of his age, suffice to attest the 
 profundity of his attainments. 
 
 Dr. Paris's writings were numerous and important. 
 The " Pharmacologia," the work on which his pro- 
 fessional reputation was founded, and upon which it 
 will mainly rest with posterity, appeared as a small 
 duodecimo Tolume in 1812. A second edition, 
 somewhat enlarged, appeared shortly afterwards ; hut 
 it was not until 1820, when the third edition was 
 issued, that the work presented those claims to public 
 notice and approbation by which it was afterwards 
 distinguished. To this edition Dr. Paris prefixed the 
 substance of the lectures he had delivered from the 
 chair of Materia Medica at the College of Physicians 
 in 1819. This consisted of two parts. The first, or 
 historical introduction, comprises a philosophical and 
 searching inquiry into the different moral and 
 physical causes which have operated in swaying the 
 opinions of practitioners, and in producing the re- 
 volutions which have taken place in the belief of 
 mankind with regard to the power and efficacy of 
 different remedial agents. The second part, " On the 
 Theory and Art of Medicinal Combination," though
 
 PAEIS. 383 
 
 founded on Gaubius's work, De Methodo Concin- 
 nandi Formulas Medicamentorum, contained a fund 
 of new and most important information, and had 
 the effect of directing the attention of the profession 
 to a subject of great importance, which had been 
 generally neglected in this country. This edition 
 met with a rapid sale, and was exhausted in three 
 months. Repeated and large impressions were hence- 
 forward demanded. The fourth appeared in the 
 same year (1820) as its immediate predecessor; the 
 fifth in 1822; the sixth in 1825; the seventh in 
 1829; the eighth in 1833. Several of these con- 
 sisted, we believe, of 2,500 copies. The ninth 
 edition, which bears the date of 1843, was the last 
 professional work of Dr. Paris's pen. This was 
 entirely re-written, in order to incorporate the latest 
 discoveries in physiology, chemistry, and materia 
 medica; and, in some points of vieAv, it may be regarded 
 as a new work. It no longer comprised, as did the 
 previous editions, a treatise on special pharmacology, 
 or a history of the individual articles which consti- 
 tute the materia medica, but was devoted to an ex- 
 tended inquiry into the modus operandi of medicines, 
 and a fuller exposition of that province which the 
 author had made, and with justifiable complacency 
 claimed, as peculiarly his own, namely, the philo- 
 sophy of medicinal combination, from which alone 
 can be deduced the theory and art of prescribing. 
 The " Pharmacologia" was no less successful in a 
 mercantile than in a literary point of view ; and 
 while it established its author's reputation, it added 
 considerably to his pecuniary resources. We know, 
 on the best authority, that Dr. Paris realized by it 
 more than five thousand guineas.
 
 384 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 In 1823 he published (in conjunction with Mr. 
 Fonblanque), a treatise on " Medical Jurisprudence," 
 in three volumes, 8vo. ; and in 1825, "The Elements 
 of Medical Chemistry." The former was a valuable 
 contribution to a subject then beginning to attract 
 the attention of tbe profession, and ere long 
 to become an essential branch of study by the 
 medical student. In many respects this was 
 superior to any existing work upon tbe subject, and 
 in some it still remains unrivalled. "It is written," 
 says a contemporary reviewer, " in a more classical 
 and attractive style than most medical works ; it em- 
 braces the subject throughout its remotest branches ; 
 it is interspersed with objects of curiosity to catch 
 the attention of the general reader, while it handles 
 ably and minutely the more essential topics of pure 
 science. It abounds in allusions to interesting cases 
 decided in the English courts, and upon the whole, 
 perhaps, no work yet exists in which the precision of 
 medical inquiries at law is more forcibly instilled by 
 precept, or more beautifully illustrated by example." 
 
 The "Elements of Medical Chemistry" was in- 
 tended for the exclusive use of the medical student. 
 It made no pretensions to the character of a com- 
 plete manual of the science. Its author purposely 
 excluded whatever appeared to have no direct 
 application to the profession, his sole object being 
 to collect all the chemical facts of professional 
 interest, to conduct the student to a knowledge pf 
 their principles by the shortest path, and to remove 
 from his road every adventitious object that might 
 obstruct his progress or unprofitably divert his atten- 
 tion. The design was felicitous ; its execution able. 
 The work was on a level with the most recent
 
 PARIS. 385 
 
 discoveries in chemistry, and many of its facts are 
 placed in original and striking relations. The 
 volume, strange to say, failed to attract attention, 
 never became popular, and, after lingering long on 
 hand, the remaining copies were disposed of at a 
 sacrifice by the publisher. 
 
 The " Treatise on Diet, with a view to establish, on 
 practical grounds, a System of Rules for the Preven- 
 tion and Cure of the Diseases incident to a Dis- 
 ordered State of the Digestive Organs," appeared in 
 1827. It had an extensive sale, passed through several 
 large editions, and was only less successful than the 
 " Pharmacologia." The fifth and last edition, enlarged 
 and almost re- written, was issued in 1837. This, like 
 all his other works, is characterized by strong good 
 sense, and is written in a style to please the most 
 fastidious reader. The author studiously avoids un- 
 necessary refinement in his distinctions, and keeps 
 steadily in view the object he has before him the 
 simplification of a difficult subject and the correction 
 of errors, which, though sanctioned by names eminent 
 in the profession, are founded on an incorrect or 
 imperfect view of the laws which govern the animal 
 frame. The most valuable and original portion of the 
 work is that on Dietetic Observances, on the periods 
 for, and intervals between, meals -the quantity and 
 quality of food at each, and the conduct to be 
 observed prior and subsequent thereto. These, with 
 an able essay on " Dietetics," in the Cyclopaedia of 
 Practical Medicine, comprise the whole of Dr. 
 Paris's medical writings. 
 
 The "Life of Sir Humphry Davy, Bart.," London, 
 1831, at once established Dr. Paris's reputation in a 
 department of literature unconnected with those in 
 
 c c
 
 386 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 which he had already heen distinguished. In this 
 work, to quote the words of an eloquent writer, " Dr. 
 Paris has ably discharged the duties of a biographer* 
 and with a powerful eloquence, and a lofty enthusiasm, 
 has raised an imperishable monument to the memory 
 of his friend." The " Life of Davy," will remain 
 one of the classical biographies of the English lan- 
 guage, and is, undoubtedly, one of the most perfect 
 we possess of any scientific man. For this work, 
 Dr. Paris received 1.000 guineas. 
 
 The qualities of Dr. Paris's mind were peculiarly 
 adapted to biography, for which, with a consciousness 
 of his powers, he had ever shown a predilection. 
 We have already mentioned his elegant sketch of the 
 Life and Scientific Labours of the Rev. William Gre- 
 gor, and have now to ad<i, as the product of his pen, 
 " A Biographical Memoir of W. G. Maton, M.D.," 
 and "A Biographical Memoir of Arthur Young, 
 Esq., Secretary to the Board of Agriculture." The 
 former, read at one of the evening meetings of the 
 College of Physicians, was printed in quarto, for 
 private circulation only ; the latter was published in 
 volume ix. of the Quarterly Journal of Science, 
 Literature, and the Arts. 
 
 His delightful little book, "Philosophy in Sport 
 made Science in Earnest," is too well known to require 
 more than a passing notice. It appeared anonymously 
 in three volumes, small 8vo. in 182J, but its author's 
 name soon transpired, and became generally known. 
 It attained an enormous popularity, and has passed 
 through numerous large editions. The work is now 
 out of print, but a new edition is on the eve of pub- 
 lication. The last sheets were corrected by its lamented 
 author within a few days of his death, we believe
 
 PARIS. 387 
 
 in the midst of suffering, and after he was confined 
 to the bed from which he rose no more. 
 
 Dr. Paris was a Fellow of the Royal Society, 
 Honorary Doctor of Civil Law of Oxford, and 
 Honorary Member of the Board of Agriculture ; and 
 in virtue of his position as President of the College 
 of Physicians, was President of the National Vaccine 
 Establishment, a member of the Medical Council of 
 the Board of Health, and a Trustee of the British 
 Museum. 
 
 His bust, by Jackson, is at Falmouth, in the Hall 
 of the Royal Cornwall Polytechnic Society. His 
 portrait by Skottowe, engraved by Bellin, has, since 
 Dr. Paris's death, been presented by his family to 
 the College of Physicians. A portrait, representing 
 him in his robes as President of the College, has 
 been painted by Pickersgill, and is now in that 
 artist's studio. 
 
 c c 2
 
 388 
 
 CHAMBERS. 
 
 DB. CHAMBERS was descended from a good family 
 in the county of Northumberland. He was born in 
 India, in 1786, and was the eldest son of William 
 Chambers, Esq., a gentleman in the civil service of 
 the East India Company. Mr. Chambers was a 
 distinguished oriental scholar, and served first at 
 Madras, and afterwards at Calcutta. His brother, 
 Sir Robert Chambers, was chief justice of Bengal, 
 where Mr. Chambers served as a Master in Equity, 
 and in other offices of the Supreme Court, till his 
 death, in 1793, with much honour and credit. Mr. 
 Chambers had married, in 1778, Charity, daughter 
 of Thomas Fraser, Esq., of Inverness-shire, by whom 
 he had issue, two sons and two daughters. The 
 second son, Sir Charles Harcourt Chambers, was 
 appointed in 1823 one of the Judges of the Supreme 
 Court of Bombay, where he died, in 1828. 
 
 The eldest son, whose career we rTave to trace, 
 was brought to England in 1793, on the death of 
 his father. He was then seven years of age, and 
 received his early education at the grammar-school 
 of Bath, from whence he was transferred to West- 
 minster. He was elected on the foundation at 
 Westminster, and in due time proceeded to a 
 scholarship at Trinity College, Cambridge. At the 
 university he obtained considerable classical and 
 mathematical distinction, and, having taken several
 
 CHAMBERS. 3t)9 
 
 prizes, he had every expectation of obtaining a 
 fellowship. In this, however, he was disappointed ; 
 and in consequence of this disappointment, he was 
 led to abandon his original intention of entering the 
 church, and determined upon becoming a physician. 
 On coming to London, he consulted the father of 
 an old college friend, who happened to be the cele- 
 brated Mr. John Pearson, the eminent surgeon, then 
 one of the surgeons to St. George's Hospital, and 
 living in Golden-square. By Mr. Pearson's advice 
 he entered at the Windmill-street School of Medi- 
 cine, at the head of which was Mr. Wilson. Here 
 he became the fellow-student of many of the dis- 
 tinguished men with whom he was associated during 
 his long and successful professional life. He 
 studied there for some time ; and, having mean- 
 while taken the degree of M.A. at Cambridge, he 
 went to Edinburgh, and spent a year there in 
 diligent attendance upon the various lectures of 
 that school. On his return to London, he placed 
 himself under the tuition of Dr. Bateman and Dr. 
 Laird, at the Bishop's Court Dispensary, Lincoln's- 
 inn. At this comparatively humble institution, he 
 spent a year and a half, and, as he often stated 
 subsequently, with great improvement. He also 
 enrolled himself as a pupil of St. George's Hospital, 
 and studied diligently at the Eye Infirmary, in 
 Moorfields, under Dr. Farre and Messrs. Travers 
 and Lawrence. While at St. George's, he became a 
 licentiate of Cambridge, and commenced practice in 
 Dover-street, where he lived in good style with his 
 mother, and soon clubbed with her to keep a 
 carriage. At this time, Dr. George Pearson, Dr. 
 Warren, Dr. Nevinson, and Dr. Thomas Young,
 
 390 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 were the physicians to St. George's Hospital, and 
 Dr. Chambers soon attracted the notice of these 
 gentlemen by his unwearied attention to the practice 
 of the hospital, and the dissections. After he had 
 been little more than three years a pupil of St. 
 George's, Dr. Pelham Warren, then in great prac- 
 tice, met him one day, and told him to be at his 
 post at the proper time, when he would hear some- 
 thing very agreeable to him. On going to the 
 hospital, he learnt that Dr. Warren had just 
 resigned, and that he and Dr. Nevinson were deter- 
 mined to support him as the candidate to succeed 
 him ; he was in consequence appointed to the 
 important post of full physician to St. George's 
 Hospital. This good fortune happened on the 20th 
 of April. 1816, when Dr. Chambers was just thirty 
 years of age. About the same time, he graduated 
 at Cambridge, and received high praise from Pro- 
 fessor Haviland, for the manner in which he 
 sustained the disputation preceding the degree. 
 
 It was at the end of the year 1815 that he first 
 put his name on his mother's door in Dover-street ; 
 but his receipts were so small, that it was not until 
 the year 1819 that he began to keep regular 
 accounts of his fees. In 1819 he was appointed, 
 on the resignation of Dr. Dick, examining physician 
 to the East India Company. In the year 1814 he 
 officiated for Dr. Dick during the greater part of the 
 year. In September, 1815, he was appointed 
 assistant - physician to the Company, with a 
 salary of 200 per annum, and, as we have 
 seen, succeeded Dr. Dick four years after- 
 wards, when his salary was raised to 420 a 
 year. Another hundred a year was afterwards
 
 CHAMBERS. 391 
 
 added for his additional duties, arising out of the 
 .Medical Relief Fund, at Poplar, and the Hospital 
 and Lunatic Asylum, at Hackney. Thus, his 
 income, independently of private practice, amounted 
 to 520 a year, and this was increased by being 
 appointed about this time a medical director of the 
 Westminster Life Office. 
 
 In the year 1816 his fees from practice amounted 
 to about 50 ; and he got this year from the 
 hospital about 60. In 1817 the fees were about 
 80, and the hospital 65. In 1818 the fees 
 increased to 150, the hospital varying but little. 
 In 1819 his fees were 433; but of this, one fee 
 amounted, to 200 guineas. This sum was given him 
 by a great patroness of his, for visiting her at 
 Ilolmpton, near Hull, and was done, as he has often 
 stated, as much to encourage him as from any real 
 occasion. In 1820 he retrograded to 211 as the 
 fee receipts for the year ; and the hospital, this year, 
 produced him only 27. Nevertheless, he married 
 in 1821, and removed to No. 10, Curzon-street. The 
 lady he married was JVJ ary, daughter of Dr. William 
 Mackinnon Frazer, of Balnairn, Inverness-shire, and 
 Lower Grosvenor-street, who had been previously in 
 great practice as a physician in Bath By this mar- 
 riage, he had four children, two sons and two 
 daughters, all of whom are still living. 
 
 From the year of his marriage, his professional 
 receipts steadily increased, so that in 1825 they 
 reached to nearly 2,000 from fees alone. His 
 reputation kept pace with his fortune, and in 1822 
 he was appointed one of the censors of the College 
 of Physicians. He had also been appointed hono- 
 rary physician to the Lock Hospital an office he
 
 392 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 held for some years, and which he resigned in 1827. 
 In 1824 he removed to No. 23, Lower Brook-street; 
 and at the commencement of the medical session, 
 October, 1825, he joined Dr. Macleod in lecturing 
 on the Practice of Physic in the school first esta- 
 blished in Windmill-street, and afterwards trans- 
 ferred to St. George's Hospital. The Royal Society 
 elected him a fellow in 1828. His acceptance with 
 the profession and success with the public steadily 
 increased, so that in the year 1833 his fees rose to 
 upwards of 4,200. Notwithstanding a severe ill- 
 ness in 1834, which kept him out of London nearly 
 the whole year, his income kept up in 1835-6, 
 and in 1837 it had reached to nearly 9,000. On 
 October 2nd, 1836, he was sent for to see Queen 
 Adelaide, at Windsor ; and on the 25th of October 
 was gazetted physician-in-ordinary to the Queen. 
 Upon the illness of the King, in May of the follow- 
 ing year, he was appointed physician-in-ordinary to 
 His Majesty William IV., who created him K.C.H., 
 but allowed him to decline the honour of ordinary 
 knighthood, which had until that time been con- 
 sidered a necessary accompaniment of the Com- 
 mandership of the Guelphic Order. On the acces- 
 sion of her present Majesty, he was gazetted one of 
 the physicians-in-ordinary ; and in 1839, he was 
 appointed physician -in -ordinary to H.R.H. the 
 Duchess of Kent. From 1836 his income ranged 
 for many years between seven and nine thousand 
 pounds, and it kept up to the full point even in the 
 year of his temporary retirement, in 1848. In 1835, 
 he had resigned the office of Physician to the 
 Honourable East India Company, the duties of 
 which, conjoined to his private practice, he found
 
 CHAMBERS. 393 
 
 more than he could continue adequately to fulfil. 
 About 1837 he ceased to lecture, and in 1839 he 
 resigned the post of physician to St. George's 
 Hospital, with which he had been so long and so 
 honourably connected. He had removed to a larger 
 house, No. 46, Brook-street, in 1832, where he 
 resided until his illness in 1848. On his return to 
 town, he took a smaller house, in Cumberland- 
 street, Hyde-park. Dr. Chambers died at his 
 country seat, the 17th of December, 1855. 
 
 From our account of Dr. Chambers's practice, it 
 will be seen that it was steady and progressive, but 
 at first gave no extraordinary indications of its sub- 
 sequent extent. In his greatest year, 1837, he 
 had reached the mature age of fifty-one, so that it 
 was no fashion or caprice which placed him at the 
 head of the metropolitan physicians a post to 
 which he attained only after twenty years of inces- 
 sant occupation in practice ! 
 
 Dr. Chambers was by no means a voluminous 
 author. His lectures on the practice of medicine, 
 published in the Medical Gazette ; the lectures on 
 cholera, which he was requested by his colleagues 
 to give in 1833, and which were republished in the 
 Lancet in 1849, with the classical and elegant 
 addresses delivered during his presidency at the 
 Medico-Chirurgical Society, constitute the bulk of 
 what he gave to the world. Judging from these 
 publications alone, it might be fancied that Dr. 
 Chambers lived a life of tolerable ease from pen and 
 ink, or that he only wrote when his writings insured 
 the honorarium. The lifting of the veil shows, 
 however, a very different picture. When Dr. 
 Chambers began practice, he regularly made clear
 
 394 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 and concise memoranda in Latin, respecting every 
 case which came before him, and copied all the pre- 
 scriptions he gave his patients. The books he used 
 for the purpose were quarto volumes, of about 400 
 pages each. His early case-books were labelled A, 
 B, C, D, and so on ; but he soon got to the end of 
 the alphabet, and had to begin afresh with the 
 numerals. He filled no less than sixty- seven of 
 these precious volumes, besides numerous thinner 
 quartos in the shape of indices ! The matter they 
 contain is necessarily immense. All his cases, and 
 every day's work, were regularly entered and indexed 
 as carefully as in a merchant's ledger, so that, not- 
 withstanding his vast practice, he could, with the 
 utmost ease, tell a patient that had consulted 
 him that day seven years ; or when he had suffered 
 from such and such disease, and had been prescribed 
 such and such medicines. His entries also contained 
 notes of consultations and post-mortems in striking 
 cases. His plan was to insert his home cases in 
 bis day-book leisurely at the time he prescribed ; 
 and then, after his return in the evening, he would, 
 from memory, enter the cases he had visited and 
 the prescriptions he had written. This, and the 
 arrangements for the next day, with noies about 
 consultations, and the preparation of his list for the 
 morrow, frequently occupied him through the night, 
 and until the rising sun peeped in upon his labours. 
 Then he retired to a brief rest, to begin work again 
 between eight and nine o'clock. 
 
 In the zenith of his practice, he had scarcely time 
 to get a single meal with regularity, and the pace 
 of his horses in the streets of London was seldom 
 less than ten miles an hour. In addition to his
 
 CHAMBERS. .iSJo 
 
 remarkable notes of cases, he had a way of sketch- 
 ing diagrams of his patients and their maladies. His 
 books are full of outlines of figures, with here a 
 dot to indicate a cavity in the lung ; there a portrait 
 of hydrothorax, with the heart bulging against the 
 right ribs ; and here, again, a case of hepatic enlarge- 
 ment, or a case of diffused tubercles. All these 
 things were done in such a manner as to indicate to 
 him the very spot and extent of any disease which 
 had passed under his sagacious diagnosis. The 
 facts we have here detailed show that Dr. Chambers 
 devoted himself to the duties of practice with the 
 most laborious and devoted conscientiousness, and 
 that his works, if not published, existed for his own 
 satisfaction and the benefit of his patient. This 
 industrious note-taking, extending, as it did. from 
 1815 to 1848, a period of thirty-three years, is one 
 of the most herculean labours which we know of in 
 the profession of medicine. Published volumes shrink 
 into littleness in comparison ; and it deserves to be 
 remembered, that this work was self-imposed from 
 a sense of duty, and for the satisfaction of a delicate 
 conscience, which was ever fearing that enough had 
 not been done or compassed in each particular case. 
 But these volumes of private cases were not all. 
 When Dr. Chambers was first appointed physician 
 to St. George's, clinical clerks had not been invented, 
 and the physicians kept their own books, entering 
 their own cases and their own prescriptions in the 
 hospital archives. This duty was performed with 
 uncommon zeal by Dr. Chambers until Dr. Hope's 
 time, who first released him from this profound 
 drudgery. The hospital books, taken in Dr. 
 Chambers's own hand-writing, probably equal in
 
 396 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 extent his private case-books. Do not these facts 
 fully justify the Horatian precept, that nothing great 
 is ever accomplished without great labour ? We see 
 here the reasons why Dr. Chambers rose to the first 
 place in medicine, and we see that this could neither 
 have been given nor held by any merely fortuitous 
 circumstances. 
 
 But these arduous tasks were performed under 
 complicated difficulties. From an early period his 
 health was delicate, and in the course of his practice 
 a great many circumstances occurred which would 
 have broken up the career of any man less attached 
 to practice, and to whom practice adhered less 
 steadily. As early as 1825, he became affected with 
 bronchocele, and was very ill from May until almost 
 the end of the year, partly from the bronchocele 
 itself, and partly from having nearly poisoned him- 
 self with iodine, the iodic saturation not being 
 attended, however, with any beneficial results to the 
 disease. He was next attacked with rheumatism, on 
 the 25th of December, 1826, and was obliged to go 
 to Bath, from whence he did not return till the 23rd 
 March, 1827, having been quite incapable of work 
 for three months. In the autumn of this year, he 
 was ill again, and out of town the whole of Septem- 
 ber, from fever brought on by exposure to miasma 
 at Chelsea. During the cholera visitation in 1833, 
 he was thrown out of a gig in Regent-street, on the 
 23rd of August, and was so much injured as to be 
 obliged to be out of town until the 1st of October. 
 This accident happened from his having been sent 
 for suddenly to see Mr. Cutler, then living in Sack- 
 ville-street, who was reported to have had a sudden 
 attack of cholera. Dr. Chambers got instantly into
 
 CHAMBERS. 397 
 
 the gig in which the messenger came, and was 
 thrown out ; and but for having drawn his hat 
 closely upon his head when the horse took fright, 
 he would probably have been killed upon the spot. 
 The alarm respecting Mr. Cutler proved unfounded, 
 and when Dr. Chambers was carried to his own 
 house in Brook-street, he found Mr. Cutler had 
 heard of his accident, and was actually come to 
 inquire for him. Another severe shock happened 
 to him in 1834. This time he imbibed poison in the 
 dead-house of St. George's Hospital, on the 14th of 
 February, while examining the body of a patient 
 who had died of a malignant variety of pleurisy, 
 and which nearly destroyed him, first by the primary 
 poison, and then by an attack of secondary inflam- 
 mation and suppuration. A long and painful illness 
 was the result, which was accompanied by the usual 
 effects of this variety of wound, and left the right 
 hand much deformed by sloughing and suppuration, 
 the traces of which remained distinctly visible; 
 indeed, the fingers of this hand were so crooked, 
 that the vulgar invented a theory, which said the 
 fingers were bent from the constant occupation of 
 taking fees ! During this illness it was thought 
 right by his friends to send Dr. Chambers to Tun- 
 bridge Wells, where he remained from March until 
 May. While at Tunbridge Wells he was deeply 
 beholden to many of the leading physicians and 
 surgeons in London, who constantly attended him, 
 and, as he always declared, saved his life (after 
 it was generally despaired of) by their kind and 
 and persevering attention. Sir B. Brodie, especially, 
 paid him a daily visit, when Tunbridge was not so 
 accessible as now, for several weeks. In August,
 
 398 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 he had somewhat recovered, when he went to Rich- 
 mond, and thence to Hampstead. Altogether, this 
 illness disabled him from the pursuit of the regular 
 course of his public and private practice for nearly 
 a year. Indeed, the poison gave a shock to his 
 nervous system, from which he never entirely re- 
 covered ; though it was after this that his great years 
 of practice followed. In 1838, he was again taken ill 
 on the 5th of January, and remained so till the 7th 
 of February, when he began to do a little business, 
 but he did not undertake full practice until the end 
 of that month, and was scarcely able to enter into it 
 with energy and spirit all the year. He was absent 
 from town this year during the greater part of August, 
 and in September and October. He now endeavoured 
 every year to recruit himself from the exhaustion of 
 almost incessant occupation night and day, with no 
 opportunity of taking regular sleep or regular meals, 
 by retiring into the country, to some house he took 
 for the season, where he would stay, with as little 
 interruption as possible, for six weeks or two months. 
 In the year 1841 he purchased a house and an estate 
 at Hordle-cliff, Hants, which afterwards became his 
 favourite place of retirement. 
 
 In 1840, he was again interrupted by a severe 
 illness. From this time he continued in full prac- 
 tice till 1848, at which period he began to feel the 
 effects of his laborious life to such an extent, that 
 his friends thought it their duty to urge his leaving 
 London in the time of his fullest employment, and 
 to spend more of his time in retirement at his estate 
 in Hampshire. He returned to London in a few 
 months, but only to a limited practice, so far as to 
 see at home such patients as might wish to consult
 
 CHAMBERS. 399 
 
 him, and to give his assistance in consultations. It 
 will be seen from this narrative, that Dr. Chambers 
 never had any continuous opportunity of realizing a 
 very large fortune by his profession, though he pos- 
 sessed a good income. His constant illnesses were, 
 of course, attended by great expenses, as well as the 
 withdrawal from practice. 
 
 In 1839, when, as regards worldly success and 
 income, the culminating point of Dr. Chambers's 
 career had been reached, the greatest bereavement 
 of his life occurred. This year his beloved wife 
 died of pthisis, leaving in his heart a void which, to 
 a man of his affectionate and kindly feelings, no 
 worldly success, no public applause or reward, could 
 soften or efface. This sad event, with his previous 
 illness, rendered him much unfit for business during 
 the next two or three years, though, driven as he 
 was by his work, he was necessarily fully engaged. 
 
 It may be curious to learn something about royal 
 attendances and royal fees. The salary of the 
 physician-in-ordinary is 200 a year, besides his 
 regular fees when called upon to act. From motives 
 of liberality towards others of the court medical 
 staff, Dr. Chambers did not take the annual fee, 
 during the reign of Queen Adelaide, but received 
 his regular fees of two guineas each whenever he 
 attended at the Court. During the reign of her 
 present Majesty, Dr. Chambers received the usual 
 salary of Court physician, and on several occasions 
 attended her Majesty and the Royal children. For- 
 merly, all the physicians-in-ordinary were of the 
 same rank ; but at the commencement of the 
 present reign, Lord Melbourne named Sir James 
 Clark, senior physician-in-ordinary, though there
 
 400 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 is in reality no such office except as a new crea- 
 tion. 
 
 In the sick-room, Dr. Chalmers was ever dis- 
 tinguished by a rare sagacity, the result of long 
 experience, a vigorous intellect, and cultivated 
 powers. That he was skilful in the management 
 of chronic maladies and ailments his long hold upon 
 the good opinions of the aristocracy will show. But 
 it was in the treatment of acute disease that he 
 especially shone. Here he was bold, energetic, and 
 successful. He never left his patient to be destroyed 
 by the vis necatrix while waiting for the vis medica- 
 trix. His desire was to stand face to face with 
 disease, and to treat it without disguise or hesitation. 
 We may give an instance of his principles in this 
 respect. Every one remembers the elegant and 
 valuable remarks of Dr. Alison, in his historical 
 memoir at the commencement of the first volume of 
 the " Cyclopaedia of Medicine," respecting the dif- 
 ferent values of bleeding, calomel, and opium, in 
 subduing peritonitis. Dr. Alison maintained that 
 the mere pain of peritonitis often killed, and that, 
 therefore, opium should always be combined with 
 calomel and bleeding, so that pain and inflammation 
 should be subdued pari passu. But Dr. Chambers 
 would act upon a different plan. In his opinion 
 the pain depended on the inflammation, and to give 
 opium in quantity would be to put a mask between 
 the physician and the disease, behind which the 
 latter might destroy the patient unperceived. He 
 preferred to deal with pathology openly, and not to 
 remove the pain as a palliative measure, but rather 
 by quelling the inflammation, which was the cause 
 of pain. Dr. Chambers acted towards disease as
 
 CHAMBERS. 401 
 
 Nelson did towards the enemy to place himself 
 fairly alongside, and abide the issue. 
 
 Dr. Chambers kept himself remarkably au nineau 
 with all that related to the progress of medicine as 
 a practical art, and was one of the first physicians 
 in England to adopt the use of the stethoscope. 
 
 Notwithstanding his vast experience and acknow- 
 ledged skill in the treatment of disease, Dr. Chambers 
 preserved the diffidence we had almost said the 
 humility of his youth, throughout his career. His 
 laborious note-taking was the result of the fear he 
 had lest he should do wrong, or commit some error 
 of practice. Like many other distinguished men, he 
 was seldom perfectly satisfied with what he had 
 done, and his anxieties, which he could not control, 
 respecting his patients, no doubt contributed, as 
 well as his great physical labours, to impair his 
 strength. This nervousness of Dr. Chambers was 
 only a misfortune to himself. Most assuredly it 
 did not spring from any incompetence, nor did it 
 stay his hand in treatment, for he was always 
 decisive and energetic ; but the excessive sensibility 
 and feeling of responsibility was often injurious to 
 his own peace of mind. On some occasions this 
 feeling was excessive. During the last illness of 
 his old patient, the Queen-Dowager, he was asked 
 to visit her, but declined to do so unless in consul- 
 tation, because he was then in delicate health, and 
 shrank from the responsibility attaching to such a 
 patient. In a less degree this feeling was present 
 during the greater part of his life. In his figure 
 and manner, Dr. Chambers was the beau ideal of 
 the physician. Everything about him was pre- 
 eminently physician-like. In stature he was tall,
 
 402 BBITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 dignified, and commanding. His demeanour to 
 patients was most winning and agreeable ; and it 
 may be said that no medical man ever met Dr. 
 Chambers in consultation without being perfectly 
 satisfied with him. The most entire liberality and 
 even indifference about fees characterized his 
 behaviour. On all occasions he was willing, as 
 regards remuneration, to give way to others.
 
 CLUTTERBUCK. 
 
 DR. HENRY CLUTTERBUCK was born in 1770, a* 
 Marazion, near Penzance, Cornwall. He was the 
 fourth son of a solicitor in extensive practice in that 
 town. He early evinced a desire to follow the 
 medical profession, and was articled as a pupil to 
 Mr. Kemp, a surgeon in general practice at Truro, 
 and who enjoyed a considerable provincial reputation. 
 At the age of twenty-one he repaired to London, and 
 entered as a student at the united hospitals of St. 
 Thomas and Guy, where he attended the lectures of 
 Dr. George Fordyce, Dr. William Saunders, and the 
 elder Cline. After pursuing his studies with un- 
 wearied diligence, he presented himself for examina- 
 tion before the corporation of surgeons, whose Hall 
 was at that time in the Old Bailev. He passed his 
 examination the 7th of August, 1790, the fees paid 
 amounting to 27 18s. Qd. 
 
 Shortly after this, he started as a general prac- 
 titioner in Walbrook, where he soon succeeded in 
 making a considerable income ; but, having a decided 
 turn for literary pursuits, he was occupied in editing 
 a bi-montbly work, entitled the Medical and Chirur- 
 gical Review. This periodical was mainly analytical, 
 and bore a considerable resemblance to Dr. Johnson's 
 Review, but it was rather smaller, and was published 
 at two shillings a number. This work, which was 
 probably the first attempt at establishing a medical
 
 404 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 periodical in the metropolis, was the result of the sole 
 and unassisted labour of Dr. Clutterbuck, with the 
 exception of a single contribution from Dr. Pearson, 
 and one also from Dr. Beddoes. It possessed a con- 
 siderable reputation at the time of its publication, 
 and most deservedly so ; it was essentially practical 
 in its character, and gave a resume of all the new 
 books, English and foreign, of the time. It no 
 doubt gave Dr. James Johnson the idea of his Review, 
 the first number of which appeared about thirteen 
 years after Dr. Clutterbuck's series had ceased to 
 exist. The Review was published by Boosey, of Old 
 Broad-street, and was a source of considerable profit 
 to its learned editor. 
 
 The Review was carried on for fifteen years,* amid 
 early professional struggles, and during various changes 
 in the life of its conductor. With his characteristic 
 industry and perseverance, however, the author 
 determined to proceed on until it had become the 
 means of establishing his reputation as a scientific and 
 practical physician. The last number of the Review 
 made its appearance in 1807, exactly fifty years 
 ago ; so that Dr. Clutterbuck had been an editor for 
 fifteen years before two-thirds of the present gene- 
 ration of surgeons were born ! His practice in 
 Walbrook continued to increase ; but he had deter- 
 mined to graduate as a physician, and accordingly 
 went to Edinburgh in 1802, where he attended the 
 classes of the second Monro and Dr. James Gregory. 
 He afterwards attended lectures at the University of 
 Glasgow, and here he graduated in the early part of 
 
 * Each annual volume contained about five hundred 
 i-^
 
 CLUTTERBUCK. 405 
 
 1804, the following being the subject of his inaugural 
 thesis : " Tentamen medicum inaugurate, quaedam. 
 de sede et natura fehris complectens;" so that at this 
 time he evidently meditated the publication of his 
 great work on Fever. Dr. Farre graduated at the 
 same time. On receiving his diploma, he almost 
 immediately repaired to London, and presented him- 
 self for examination at the College of Physicians. 
 At this time, however, no member of the College of 
 Surgeons could become a candidate for the physician's 
 diploma so long as he remained a member of that 
 inferior college ; so that Dr. Clutterbuck was obliged 
 to get disfranchised from Surgeons' Hall. To effect 
 this, he had to pay 22. He passed his exami- 
 nation as a licentiate of the college with much credit, 
 and immediately established himself as a physician at 
 No. 17, St. Paul's Churchyard, occupying only a 
 part of the house. 
 
 Dr. Clutterbuck had now obtained considerable 
 reputation in his profession, and became anxious to 
 be connected with some public institution for the 
 treatment of disease. A vacancy in the office of 
 physician to the General Dispensary in Aldersgate- 
 street, by the resignation of Dr. Lettsom, occurred in 
 1807, an d he became a candidate for the vacant office. 
 He was opposed by the late amiable and excellent 
 physician, Dr. Birkbeck, who, however, soon retired 
 from the contest, seeing that the great majority of the 
 governors was in favour of his opponent. This op- 
 position, instead of acting injuriously to the future 
 position of the contending parties, formed the com- 
 mencement of a friendship as true and as lasting as 
 almost any on record. 
 
 Dr. Birkbeck was shortly afterwards elected one of
 
 406 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 the physicians to the Dispensary, and remained for 
 upwards of twenty years a colleague of the subject of 
 this memoir. Dr. Clutterbuck ever maintained the 
 strongest regard for this great friend of mankind and 
 of education, and had the melancholy satisfaction of 
 administering to him, in his last illness, the resources 
 of his art and the consolations of his friendship. The 
 colleagues of Dr. Clutterbuck at the General Dispen- 
 sary were Dr. William Lambe, as physician, and Mr. 
 Norris and Mr. Vaux as surgeons. The first of these 
 gentlemen was a very accomplished physician, and a 
 most benevolent and kind-hearted man, his advice and 
 purse being open on all occasions to the sick and the 
 needy. He was rather eccentric in his manners, and 
 a rigid vegetarian, having for nearly half a century 
 before his death never tasted animal food. He wrote 
 a work to show that almost all diseases, but particu- 
 larly those of a scirrhous nature, had their origin in 
 the use of animal diet, and in the impure water sup- 
 plied to the metropolis. He did not, however, insist 
 upon all his patients keeping to a vegetable diet, but 
 he strongly relied upon the necessity of their drinking 
 nothing but filtered water; and he had the model of 
 a glass filter in his consulting room, which he invari- 
 ably exhibited and described to his patients. Dr. 
 Lambe had* never any considerable practice of a 
 remunerative character, and lived for many years 
 a short distance out of town. He, however, had a 
 consulting-room in King's-road, Bedford-row, at 
 which he was in the habit of attending three 
 times a week, Never was a poor patient turned from 
 the door at any of the hours of his attendance, and 
 this most benevolent man assisted with money those 
 who without it 'were unable to obtain the little
 
 CLUTTERBUCK. 40/ 
 
 luxuries necessary in sickness, and the medicines he 
 had prescribed. Mr. Norris was the friend of Mr. 
 Warner, surgeon to Guy's Hospital ; and Mr. Vaux 
 had at that time a large City practice. 
 
 Shortly after his appointment to the General Dis- 
 pensary, Dr. Clutterbuck commenced his lectures on 
 the Theory and Practice of Medicine, and on Materia 
 Medica. He delivered three courses in the year, and 
 had a large class. 
 
 Lecturing, at that time, was spread over a much, 
 more limited field than it is at present ; and afforded 
 something like remuneration to those who undertook 
 the important and laborious office of teachers. Dr. 
 Clutterlmck's class steadily and gradually increased in 
 numbers, and in one year his receipts from the fees 
 of students amounted to upwards of one thousand 
 pounds! He continued to lecture on medicine for 
 nearly a quarter of a century ; but, long before the 
 termination of that period, his class had much fallen 
 off, owing to the establishment of the Londou Uni- 
 versity and other schools. A course of lectures 
 delivered by Dr. Clutterbuck at the Aldersgate 
 School, was published in the Lancet about twenty- 
 five years ago. The style of Dr. Clutterbuck's lec- 
 tures was similar to that of his writings ; they were 
 plain, forcible, and unadorned, full of practical facts, 
 with an entire absence of speculation. A)/out the 
 time of his appointment to the Dispensary, he pub- 
 lished his chief work, entitled, an " Inquiry into the 
 Seat and Nature of Fever." It was a large octavo 
 volume, of about five hundred pages. This work 
 soon went through a second edition, and was trans- 
 lated into some of the continenal languages. It 
 justly raised the character of its author, who was at
 
 408 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 once acknowledged to be one of the most original 
 thinkers, and one of the most practical physicians of 
 the age. This work may be considered as an ex- 
 panded view of the subject of his inaugural thesis, 
 and in which he endeavoured to show that what is 
 usually termed idiopathic fever, and which has been 
 almost invariably considered as a disease of the whole 
 system, is, in reality, and from the first, a topical 
 affection of the brain, consisting in inflammation of 
 that organ, and requiring a corresponding mode of 
 treatment. In stating this, however, he cautiously 
 guards his readers against the conclusion that some 
 have inadvertently come to, that blood-letting ought 
 to be the general remedy. This, he observes, is by 
 no means a necessary inference from the doctrine ; on 
 the contrary, he insists, that although blood-letting is 
 sometimes requisite, and, indeed, indispensable, to the 
 safety of the patient, there are numerous occasions in 
 which, as in all other inflammations, it is both un- 
 necessary and objectionable. 
 
 At the time of the publication of this work, Dr. 
 Currie was at the height of his popularity as the 
 teacher of the " liver doctrine ; " that, in fact, the 
 liver was the Pandora's box, whence issued all the 
 evils that flesh is heir to. The following character- 
 istic letter was sent by Mr., afterwards Sir, Astley 
 Cooper, to Dr. Clutterbuck, on being presented with 
 his work "On Fever." 
 
 ' ' MY DEAR SIR, I return you many thanks for your 
 valuable publication, which must be highly useful to 
 the profession. I entirely agree with you regarding the 
 seat of the disease, and the organs it more particularly 
 affects. The world has been more than sufficiently
 
 CLUTTEUBUCK. 409 
 
 long led astray by the hypothesis of the liver being the 
 seat of almost all diseases, and in obedience to this 
 idea, the practice of medicine has become entirely 
 empirical. 
 
 " I am, yours very truly obliged, 
 
 "ASTLEY COOPER." 
 
 Dr. Clutterbuck had very early in life become a 
 Fellow of the Medical Society of London, at that time 
 the only medical society in the metropolis, with the 
 exception of the Physical Society at Guy's. This 
 Society, so largely indebted to Dr. Lettsom, not only 
 as its founder and the contributor of a splendid 
 library and a valuable house in Bolt Court, but also 
 for his establishment of the Fothergillian Medal, in 
 honour of the memory of his friend and patron, Dr. 
 Fothergill, had become almost the exclusive property, 
 so far as places of honour were concerned, of a small 
 clique. At the head of these was Dr. James Sims. 
 This gentleman for many years had been the presi- 
 dent so long, indeed, had he filled this important 
 office, that he regarded it in the light of a holding 
 for life, and never contemplated anything like "a 
 brother near the throne." The Society consisted at 
 this time of almost all the elite of the profession, and 
 the long retainment of office by Dr. Sims, gave rise 
 to much discontent among the great body of the 
 fellows of the Society. At length a party was formed, 
 with the view of altering the laws and rendering 
 the appointment of president a bi-annual necessity. 
 Among the chiefs of this party were Dr. Clutterbuck 
 and Dr. Birkbeck. At length the agitation was 
 successful ; Dr. Sims was deposed, after a reign of 
 many years, and Dr. Walshman was appointed presi- 
 dent. The struggle, however, for the just rights
 
 410 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 of the great body of the fellows had naturally given 
 offence to some parties, and determined some of 
 the principal fellows to leave the Society and form 
 one in opposition to it. From this circumstance, the 
 Royal Medical and Chirurgical Society had its 
 origin, the first founders of it being Sir A. Cooper, 
 Dr. Yelloly, and Dr. Marcet, three of those fellows 
 who in 1809 retired from the Medical Society of 
 London. 
 
 In the year 1808 Dr. Clutterbuck removed to his 
 last residence in New Bridge-street, Blackfriars, a 
 house which had been formerly occupied by, and in 
 which died, Mr Chandler, one of the surgeons to St. 
 Thomas's Hospital, and to whom Sir Astley Cooper 
 was an apprentice. 
 
 Dr. Clutterbuck, with the late Mr. Tyrrell, esta- 
 blished the Aldersgate School of Medicine, and at this 
 place he continued to lecture for some time on the 
 Practice of Physic. 
 
 Dr. Clutterbuck's connexion with the Medical 
 Society of London was of very long duration ; he 
 was contemporary with Lettsom, and most of the 
 men who flourished towards the end of the last 
 and the commencement of the present century ; and 
 he always regarded that institution with the most 
 friendly feelings. The body of fellows of the Society, 
 justly estimating the high professional character of 
 Dr. Clutterbuck, and esteeming him for his many 
 good qualities of head and heart, on three sepa- 
 rate occasions, conferred upon him the honour of 
 the president's chair. On all these occasions he con- 
 ducted himself with the utmost kindness and con- 
 sideration, and always listened to the youngest fellows 
 of the Society wtth patience and attention. All that
 
 CLUTTER BUCK. 411 
 
 constitutes tlie beau ideal of a chairman of a grave 
 deliberative assembly like a medical society was to be 
 found in Dr Clutterbuck. No man in it had so 
 completely the respect and confidence of the great 
 body of the fellows. As a speaker in the usual 
 debates, he confined himself generally to really 
 practical subjects, and had an objection to enter 
 into discussions on mere speculations and doctrines 
 unsupported by facts. He maintained with great 
 perseverance, but always with modest firmness, his 
 opinion regarding the effects of inflammation and 
 blood-letting on the system. He viewed with a 
 jealous eye all innovations upon the more practical 
 pursuits of the physician, and was slow to receive 
 evidence upon the virtues of new remedies over 
 those which had stood the test of a long and search- 
 ing experience. In all matters of debate in which he 
 entered the lists, he treated the youngest and most 
 inexperienced member with the greatest kindness, 
 candour, and respect. He might be considered the 
 model of a debater on medical subjects ; never for a 
 moment carried away into statements which he could 
 not substantiate, and always preserving the full com- 
 mand of his temper ; he spoke with a deliberation 
 and with a clearness which hare been seldom ex- 
 celled. The style of his address was rather 
 cautious than energetic, and he was perfect in the 
 choice of his language. Indeed, it would be difficult 
 to conceive a more finished composition of words than 
 fell from the deliberate lips of Dr. Clutterbuck in a 
 debate. He was so easy to follow, and so clear in his 
 statements, that there was no possibility of misunder- 
 standing him, and the short- hand writer who had 
 to take his speech would, if he took it correctly, have
 
 412 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 no faults in style or composition to correct. Nearly 
 up to the time of his death he was one of the most 
 regular attendants at the Society, usually occupying 
 the same seat on the left hand of the president, and 
 next to the secretary. Dr. Clutterbuck, with one or 
 two exceptions, attended the annual festival of the 
 Society for fifty years. 
 
 Among the papers read by hnn before the Society, 
 wore a Life of Dr. Hulme, and a Life of Dr. Birk- 
 beck, the latter of whom he attended in his last ill- 
 ness. In addition to his work on Fever, he published 
 in 1795 a small work on the Poison of Lead, in 
 which he recommends mercury as an antidote. He 
 was led to this by a comparison of the effects of 
 these two substances on the system, the one acting 
 as a sedative, the other as a stimulant. His Life 
 of Dr. Hulme, he also published separately. Dr. 
 Hulme was physician to the Charterhouse, and, 
 with Dr. Lettsom, was the principal founder of the 
 General Dispensary. He also published, in 1839, 
 an Account of an Epidemic Fever that prevailed 
 to a wide extent in London at that time. His 
 latest work was entitled, " A Series of Essays on 
 Inflammation, tending to show that most diseases 
 either actually consist in inflammation, or are conse- 
 quences of it more or less remote." 
 
 Dr. Clutterbuck had a very respectable practice, 
 chiefly among the merchant princes and middle classes 
 of London. He early acquired distinction by his 
 writings and lectures, and his reputation was still 
 further increased by his connexion with the General 
 Dispensary. He always attributed his success to his 
 connexion with the literature of the profession ; and 
 he looked back upon his labours as an editor and a
 
 CLUTTERBUCK. 413 
 
 journalist among those things in his life of which he 
 had the most reason to be proud. 
 
 Dr. Clutterbuck performed the active duties of 
 his profession to the very last. He attended the 
 anniversary meeting of the Medical Society on the 
 8th of March, 1856. Having heard the oration at 
 Willis's Rooms, he left the room to walk home, and 
 in crossing a street was knocked down by a street cab. 
 From the injuries thus received he never recovered, 
 but lived about six weeks afterwards. He retained 
 his faculties to the last, and is said to have seen 
 patients on the very day he died. 
 
 The life of Dr. Clutterbuck is fraught with les- 
 sons of instruction, and affords an admirable example 
 of the success which results from industry, perseve- 
 rance, and probity. He was unassisted by family in- 
 fluence, fortune, or connexions, and had few 
 patients amongst the higher classes. He never 
 received an honour from the College of Physicians, 
 having declined the only one offered him a fellow- 
 ship, at an advanced period of his life. But he was 
 highly respected and even venerated by the public 
 and the profession, as an example of an excellent 
 and practical physician who had attained the highest 
 reputation by his own talent, industry, and spotless 
 character. 
 
 Dr. Clutterbuck married in 1810, and left one son 
 and four daughters. 
 
 In person, Dr. Clutterbuck was somewhat above 
 the middle height, and robust in form. His counte- 
 nance was rather striking than handsome; his features 
 being large and marked. His complexion was florid. 
 A very good portrait of him was painted by sub- 
 scription for the Medical Society of London, and is 
 now in the meeting room of that institution.
 
 414 BRITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 In this place, brief reference may be made to 
 some of the early contemporaries of the subject of 
 this memoir. Of those who were in practice when 
 Dr. Clutterbuck commenced, none remain ; and 
 this is not extraordinary when it is recollected that 
 he commenced his career as a general practitioner 
 upwards of sixty years ago ! Among those whom 
 he occasionally met in consultation was John Hunter, 
 who at that time lived in Leicester-square, and to 
 whom Dr. Clutterbuck occasionally sent patients. 
 He used to describe Hunter as at that time an 
 agreeable but plain-mannered man, who always went 
 carefully into a case, though his questions were 
 generally few and to the point. His mode of pre- 
 scribing was very simple. He was cheerful and 
 agreeable, and was a favourite amongst those who 
 consulted him. Neither Mr. Astley Cooper nor 
 Mr. Abernethy had at that time arrived at any 
 celebrity. 
 
 Amongst the physicians who enjoyed the largest 
 share of public favour at that time was Dr. Lettsom, 
 who lived in a court in Basinghall-street, and had a 
 very extensive practice, chiefly with the citizens. 
 London, sixty years ago, in what is now called " the 
 City," was a very different place from what it is now. 
 All the great merchants and bankers had their 
 winter houses in town, and in these, during many 
 months of the year, they resided, keeping up 
 establishments which fairly vied with the west-end 
 nobles. It was amongst these that the chief of Lett- 
 som's practice consisted; and he accumulated a large 
 fortune, a portion of which he left as a munificent 
 gift to the profession. He retired occasionally to his 
 villa at Camberwell-grove ; but he was seldom " out
 
 CLUTTERBUCK. 415 
 
 of harness." He was essentially a man of business, a 
 good practitioner, and a great favourite with his 
 patients. On his retirement from practice, Dr. 
 Clutterlmck and Dr. Birkbeck succeeded to a con- 
 siderable portion of it. 
 
 Dr. George Fordyce, also, at that time, enjoyed 
 great reputation as a physician and teacher. He was 
 physician to St. Thomas's Hospital, and lived in 
 Essex-street, in the Strand, where he lectured on the 
 theory and practice of medicine. He talked broad 
 Scotch. His lectures were given in his parlour in 
 the evening, and were well attended. They were 
 given partly from notes and partly extempore, and 
 were models of practical instruction given in clear 
 and simple language. Dr. Clutterbuck attended 
 these lectures, and kept up an intimate acquaintance 
 with the lecturer until his death. Dr. Clutterbuck 
 always regarded him as one of the most practical 
 and well-informed physicians that he had the good 
 fortune to meet during his long career of practice. 
 
 Dr. George Pearson, physician to St. George's 
 Hospital, had at that period a considerable practice 
 at the west-end of London. He was a neighbour of 
 John Hunter, and lived in Leicester- square. Dr. 
 Clutterbuck was in the habit of meeting him 
 frequently in practice, and of seeing at his table most 
 of the noted men of the time. 
 
 Dr. Babington, when Dr. Clutterbuck commenced 
 practice, was the apothecary to Guy's Hospital. He 
 was an early and a late friend of the subject of this 
 memoir, and was on terms of intimacy with him until 
 he died. 
 
 Dr. Currie, who lived in New Bridge-street, 
 Blackfriars, had for a long period the "run of the
 
 416 BEITISH PHYSICIANS. 
 
 town " in all cases of liver disease, or where it was 
 supposed to exist. He was by no means a sound 
 practitioner, and was very wild in his notions respect- 
 ing disease. He attributed every ailment "which 
 flesh is heir to " to disease or disorder of the liver, 
 and treated his patients accordingly. He was him- 
 self attacked with disease, which he persisted, in 
 opposition to his medical attendants, in declaring 
 was an affection of the liver, and was angry if any 
 one differed from him in this opinion. He died, 
 however, of what proved to be tubercular disease of 
 the lungs. 
 
 Dr. Birkbeck was an early friend and colleague of 
 Dr. Clutterbuck at the General Dispensary. He was 
 a man of much general information, a great friend to 
 education and to the improvement of the condition of 
 the working classes. He commenced practice in 
 Cateaton-street, removed thence to Broad-street, and 
 afterwards to Finsbury-square, where he died. He 
 was a man of extremely sober and abstemious habits, 
 and the disease from which he suffered severely 
 dyspepsia was probably aggravated by the over- 
 rigorousness of his diet. He never had a large prac- 
 tice, much of his time having been devoted to other 
 objects. 
 
 HADDO.V, BROTHERS, AND CO., PRINTERS, CASTLE STREET, FJN8BURY.
 
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