In a

Between myself and the great majority of the students there was nothing in common. medical school, indeed, there is a great mixture of persons. There is always a certain number of well-educated young men. But these are a

minority. The effect of the absurd system of apprenticeship to an apothecary-which custom formerly, and since that an Act of Parliament, has imposed on what are called general practitioners—is that the great mass of students are sadly deficient in this respect. If I spoke on subjects in which I was interested, they did not understand me, neither did I understand them. There were only two among them with whom I had. much acquaintance: one of them a young physician of the name of Crawford, a nephew of Crawford who wrote on animal heat, and who died not very long afterwards; and the other was Lawrence, who has since acquired so large and well-deserved a reputation. The latter was, even then, a remarkable person. I never knew any one who had a greater capacity for learning than he had, nor more industry, nor who at the same age had

a greater amount of information, not merely on matters relating to his future profession, but on a great variety of other subjects.

From that time to the present, Lawrence and myself have been moving in parallel lines, he having had the largest share of private practice next to myself; and it may be regarded as somewhat to the credit of both of us that there has never been any manifestation of jealousy between us. I have already mentioned that, when a young man, he had some faculties in great perfection, and he has them still, but little (as far as I can see) impaired by the addition of fifty years to his age. He has a great memory, and can readily recur to, and make use of, what he knows. He has considerable powers of conversation, but without obtruding himself to the exclusion of others, as is the case with too many of those who are reputed to be good talkers. What he says is full of happy illustrations, with, at times, a good deal of not ill-natured sarcasm. In public speaking, he is collected, has great command of language, and uses it correctly, but not equal to what he is in

the ordinary intercourse of society. In writing, his style is pure, free from all affectation, yet in general not sufficiently concise. His reading has been extensive; he is well acquainted with modern, and moderately so with the ancient, languages. His professional writings contain a vast deal of information, but it is more as to what he has taken from other authors than as to the results of his own experience and observation. That he is thoroughly acquainted with his profession cannot be doubted, for it would not have been possible for him otherwise to retain for so long a period the high place which he has occupied.

If I had but few associates among my fellowstudents in the medical school, I was fortunate in those whom I had at the same time out of it.

My elder brother was in London studying fo the Bar, and he and I lodged together at a house in Carey Street, Lincoln's Inn. Denman, my first cousin, was studying the law also, and had chambers in Lincoln's Inn. Merivale, with whom I was acquainted as a friend of Denman, and as having been a visitor at my father's house in

Wiltshire, and who was afterwards well known for his literary acquirements, and especially as the author of the translations of the Greek Anthology, was engaged in the same pursuit, and residing also in Lincoln's Inn. Besides these, I was on intimate terms with other law students, among them Wray, with whom I had previously associated in Wiltshire; Stoddart, already mentioned as a former friend, who, after having been leading the life of a literary man, was then studying for the Bar of Doctors' Commons; Gifford (Lord Gifford afterwards), and one whose name was Barwis, who, not being very successful at the Bar, became afterwards the Marquis of Ormonde's agent in Ireland, and continued to be one of my best and kindest friends to the end of his days. To these I may add Dr. Maton, whom I had known in my earlier days, and whom, while I was a boy, I had sometimes accompanied in his botanical excursions. He had then lately begun to practise as a physician in London; rising afterwards to be one of the principal physicians in the west end of the town. All of these whom I have mentioned were several years

older than myself, and I hold it to be one of the greatest advantages which I have had in life, that I was thus at an early age thrown into the society of intelligent and well-conducted persons, whose minds were more matured than my

own.

Dr. Maton and some of his friends, while at Oxford, had formed themselves into a society for the discussion of literary and other subjects. The objects of the society were innocent enough, and one of their rules was to exclude all questions connected with religion and politics. But in those days, when the French Revolution was going on, and parties were reckless and violent at home, it excited the jealousy of the authorities of the University, who insisted on it being put an end to. When several of the founders of it met afterwards in London, they agreed to re-establish it under the name of the Academical Society, and it accordingly assembled once in a week at apartments at a large house in Bell Yard, between Lincoln's Inn and the Temple. Dr. Maton was its president, and through his kindness, youngster as I was, I was elected a