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 Athenæum, when he told me that he saw that I had the organ of constructiveness much developed, and that this explained how it was that I 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.

In the spring of 1803 I first entered as a pupil

under Mr. (afterwards Sir Everard) Home, at St. George's Hospital.

At this time Mr. Home was the leading surgeon at the west end of London. He was looked up to with something like veneration by all the hospital pupils. He was punctual in his attendance, performed his duties with great ability, and was far above all his colleagues, both in his diagnosis of disease and as an operating surgeon. As a practical surgeon, I do not think that Mr. Thomas Keate, the senior surgeon, was at all his inferior; indeed, the latter had rather an advantage over him in the medical treatment of his patients. But Mr. Keate occupied what at that time was a very high station as surgeon-general to the army. In the time of war this was a place of great responsibility, with the disadvantage, for so it is, of a very extensive patronage. Partly in consequence of his time being thus very much occupied, and partly from being naturally of unpunctual habits, he was negligent of his hospital duties, and he was not estimated as, with his talents and knowledge, he would have been otherwise.

I had now left my old lodgings, where I lived with my brother Peter, in Carey Street, and resided in the neighbourhood of the hospital, in order that I might be better able to attend to my hospital studies. At this period I made one valuable addition to my professional acquaintance, Nicolson, who is still living, though in dilapidated health, at Calcutta. He was some years older than myself, was a protégé of Mr. Home, had a house opposite his in Sackville Street, and assisted him in his private practice. He was a man of considerable talents, and an excellent practical surgeon, but with no taste for the science of his profession. Three years afterwards he went to India in the service of the East India Company, where, from the high character which he brought with him, he had at once an office given him which enabled him to reside at the seat of government. He soon obtained a very large and lucrative private practice in Calcutta, besides acquiring a great degree of popularity, to which his kind disposition and open and manly character justly entitled him.

The commencement of my studies at the hospital was that of a completely new era in my life. Hitherto it is true that I had worked hard enough. With the exception of Lawrence, I doubt whether any one of my acquaintance had been equally diligent. But it was rather as a matter of duty, or I rather ought to say of necessity, than because I felt any very great interest in what I was doing; and most willingly, if I could have afforded it, would I have turned my back on anatomy and returned to literary pursuits. A great change took place as soon as I became familiar with the business of the hospital.

To those who really desire to learn, the wards of a hospital are soon found to be replete with interest. At first all is confusion. The nice distinction of symptoms on which the diagnosis of disease depends, why the pulse in one case indicates immediate danger, and in another none at all, why one patient recovers and another dies, why the same kind of treatment is successful in one instance and fails in another, these, and a multitude of other matters, are quite inexplicable to the young student. Everything is seen