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most profound knowledge of his subject, and his demonstrations were very far superior to those of any other anatomist of that day; and I may, I believe, add, to those of any one since. He kept up the attention of the diligent students, who were really anxious to learn, not by the aid of happy illustrations and appropriate anecdotes, but by the quantity of instruction which he conveyed. For those of an inferior class, his lectures were almost too good. With them, a neighbouring teacher, who was more of a private tutor than an anatomist (nomine Carpue), was more popular.
During this my second, as well as my first, -winter in London, my professional studies were wholly limited to anatomy, except that in the early part of it, and afterwards, when I had no subject for dissection, by Dr. BailhVs advice, I attended in a chemist's shop, in order that I might gain some knowledge of the Materia Medica, and the making up of prescriptions. The shop was at the corner of Little Newport Street, and the proprietor of it was Mr. Clifton, who also practised as an apothecary, exercising his art among the tradesmen of the neighbourhood. He was an apothecary of the old school, having no science in the ordinary sense of the word; yet, I have no doubt, a useful and successful practitioner. I come to this conclusion because, although there was nothing prepossessing in either his manner or appearance, his practice gradually increased, until at last he was able to give up his shop and live in a large house near Leicester Square, where he dispensed medicines only to his own patients. It is usual in these days to regard this class of practitioners with little respect; but the fact is, that they were very useful persons, and, having no very ambitious aspirations, they were within the reach of the poorer orders of society, which is not much the case with the better educated surgeon-apothecaries, or, as they are called, general practitioners, of the present day, who have expended a considerable sum of money in order to obtain a license to practise. Mr. Clifton's treatment of disease seemed to be very simple. He had in his shop five large bottles, which were labelled Mistura Salina, Mistura .Cathartica,
Mistura Astringens, Mistura Cinchona, and another, of which I forget the name, but it was some kind of white emulsion for coughs; and it seemed to me that out of these five bottles he prescribed for two-thirds of his patients. I do not, however, set this down to his discredit; for I have observed that, while young members of the medical profession generally deal in a great variety of remedies,they generally discard the greater number of them as they grow older, until at last their treatment of diseases becomes almost as simple as that of the iEsculapius of Little Newport Street. There are some, indeed, who form an exception to this general rule, who, even to the last, seem to think that they have, or ought to have, a specific for everything, and are always making experiments with new remedies. The consequence is that they do not cure the patients, which the patients at last find out, and then they have no patients left.
During my attendance at the Windmill Street school I worked hard in the dissecting-room, and learned a good deal of anatomy. If I did so, however, it must be owned that it was rather as a duty, and because it was necessary to my future undertakings, than because I had any particular taste for the details of anatomical study. I remember some years afterwards dining with a friend (Henry Drummond, the present member of Parliament for West Surrey), who was a craniologist, at the Athenaeum, when he told me that he saw that I had the organ of constructiveness much developed, and that this explained how it was that T excelled in the use of my hands, and was an excellent dissector. There was never a greater mistake. I was naturally very clumsy in the use of my hands, and it was only by taking great pains with myself that I became at all otherwise.
During this my second winter in London, I made only one acquaintance with whom I was at all intimate among my fellow-students, in the person of Mr. Rose, who ultimately became a surgeon of the same hospital with myself, and is still well known by a very valuable paper published in the 'Medico-Chirurgical Transactions.' Rose was a nephew of Dr. Reid, the author of the 'Inquiry into the Human Mind on the Principles of Common Sense/ and had been educated by him at Glasgow. From thence he was transplanted to Oxford as one of the Glasgow exhibitioners at Balliol, and then to London as a student in surgery. We lived very much together, and our friendship continued without a day's interruption until his death, about twenty-five years afterwards. He was a thoroughly honourable, high-minded man, having little imagination, but a very clear head and sound judgment. I have no doubt that my intimacy with him tended very much to the improvement of my own character, and I look back to the friendship which existed between us as one of the most happy circumstances of my life. This excellent man belonged to a family who had a tendency to pulmonary disease. In the year 1828 he had the misfortune to lose three out of four children from the effects of scarlet fever. This broke his heart. The disease of which his brothers and sisters had been the victims became developed in himself, and he soon followed his children to the grave.