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THE LIFE 
 
 SIR ROBERT CHRISTISON, BART. 
 
/$~Zr\- *-•— « £~<j~£-t. 
 
THE LIFE 
 
 SIR ROBERT CHRISTISON, BART 
 
 M.D., D.C.L. Oxon., LL.D. Edln. 
 
 PROFESSOR OP MATERIA MEDICA IN THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH, 
 PHYSICIAN TO THE QUEEN FOR SCOTLAND, ETC. 
 
 EDITED BY HIS SONS 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES 
 
 VOL. I.— AUTOBIOGRAPHY 
 
 WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS 
 
 EDINBURGH AND LONDON 
 
 MDCCCLXXXV 
 
V 
 
 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The Manuscript from which the First Volume of 
 this publication is formed was found among Sir 
 Robert Christison's papers after his death. It consists 
 of an Autobiography of the first thirty -three years of 
 his life, is written in a clear and beautiful hand, 
 almost without correction or erasure, and entirely 
 free from blot from beginning to end, and is neatly 
 bound in three little volumes by Sir Robert's own 
 hand. We, his sons, were not aware during his life- 
 time that he was engaged on this work, but from 
 internal evidence it must have been written at in- 
 tervals between 1870 and 1879, partly from memory, 
 but chiefly from original notes and letters, some of 
 which still exist. The MS. breaks off quite abruptly, 
 without explanation, and we can only conjecture that 
 increasing years had deprived him of the strength or 
 inclination to carry on the account of his life. 
 
 No directions were left as to the disposal of the 
 work, but, acting on the advice of several of Sir 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Robert's most valued friends, to whose judgment it 
 was submitted, and being strongly urged in particular 
 by the late Principal Sir Alexander Grant, we re- 
 solved not to withhold it from the public. 
 
 Having determined to go so far, the question arose 
 whether we should attempt some continuation of a 
 life which certainly did not grow less interesting with 
 increasing years. On investigating his papers with 
 this view, we found that unfortunately little original 
 materials exist for the period of about twenty-five 
 years subsequent to that dealt with in the Auto- 
 biography. At that time, indeed, Sir Robert had 
 httle leisure and less occasion for any correspondence 
 except of a strictly professional kind. But during 
 the last thirty years of his life he maintained a reg- 
 ular correspondence, sometimes by letter, sometimes 
 in the form of continuous journals, with his eldest 
 son and his daughter-in-law in India, and with his 
 second son, who was frequently abroad for limited 
 periods. From these sources, from copies made by 
 himself of his more important letters, and from special 
 notes which he had kept of some remarkable occur- 
 rences of his life, it w^as evident that ample materials 
 could be drawn for the formation of a second volume. 
 
 It was resolved, therefore, to continue the Life, and 
 to give it as much as possible the character of an 
 autobiography, by reiving almost entirely upon Sir 
 Robert's original letters and documents, — our part as 
 
INTRODUCTION. Vll 
 
 Editors going little beyond the mere selection and 
 arrangement of the materials. Here a difficulty arose 
 from the variety of Sir Robert's pursuits. It appeared 
 that by following the usual course of writing a con- 
 tinuous narrative from year to year, there was a risk 
 of producing a confused and disjointed result, which 
 might be avoided by treating each division of Sir 
 Robert's life-work separately. The latter course, 
 therefore, was adopted ; and it was attended with this 
 further advantage, that we could with greater ease 
 call in the aid of others in describing particular 
 branches of our father's work. Thus we have the 
 great privilege of presenting to our readers a 
 chapter on Sir Robert's work as a physician by Pro- 
 fessor Gairdner, and another on his scientific career 
 by Professor T. R. Fraser. 
 
 The biography of a physician and man of science 
 must necessarily appeal mainly to medical readers, 
 and to those acquainted with the sciences allied to 
 medicine. Nevertheless, we believe that even the 
 purely professional and scientific parts of the present 
 work may prove interesting to those cultivated mem- 
 bers of the general public who are not unwilling to 
 take an occasional side glance at professions and pur- 
 suits differing widely from their own ; and it would 
 almost appear that Sir Robert had this class of read- 
 ers in view, from the untechnical and popular style of 
 writing which he has adopted. 
 
viu INTRODUCTION. 
 
 A considerable part of both volumes is taken up 
 with the affairs of the Edinburgh University. This 
 was hardly to be avoided in an account of the life of 
 one who was so thoroughly identified with every 
 phase in the history of that University for more than 
 half a century. Neither did it seem desirable to cur- 
 tail this part of our subject much, as it might be 
 found to have no little historical and practical value 
 to University readers. 
 
 Finally, there can hardly fail to be something 
 worthy of study by the general as well as the pro- 
 fessional reader in the life of one who attained a 
 position of some prominence in his day, and who won 
 the respect alike of his professional brethren and his 
 fellow-citizens, by the singular unselfishness, high 
 sense of honour, and strict devotion to duty which 
 characterised a career prolonged far beyond the 
 period of activity usually allotted to man. 
 
CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 CHILDHOOD AND SCHOOL-DAYS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Parentage — Brothers — Dr Milne's school — High School — Irving's 
 class — Class boobies — Henry Cockburn — Dr Adam — Interreg- 
 num — Pillans — Classical system of education — Games, . . 1 
 
 CHAFTEE II. 
 
 UNIVERSITY GENERAL EDUCATION. 
 
 Dunbar — Leslie — Walker-Arnott — John Playl'air — Louis Cauvin 
 — Debating societies — Daniel Rutherford — Charles Hope — 
 Chemical Society — Syme and others — " Paraffin " Young on 
 patents, ........ 35 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 UNIVERSITY EARLY MEDICAL STUDIES. 
 
 Choice of Profession — Monro — Fyfe — Barclay— Duncan — Home — 
 
 Abercromby — Gregory — Hamilton — Russell— Jameson, . 66 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 EXCURSION:-. 
 
 Glasgow — Ben Lomond — The Trossaehs — Blair Atholl — Perth— 
 Stirling. Aberdeen — Deeside — The Findhorn — Fort George 
 — Inverness — Fort William — Ben Nevis — Glencoe — Loch 
 Fyne — Bute — Glasgow, . . . . . .93 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 INFIRMARY LIFE. 
 
 Notices of companions, their characters and their histories : 
 William Cameron, Benjamin Welsh, Mowbray Thomson, 
 Donald Macintosh, James Craig Somerville, David Craigie, 
 Lucius O'Brien, 'William Cullen, Edward Turner, William 
 Turner, George Stedmann, Douglas Cameron, Jean Charles 
 Coindet, ........ 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 INFIRMARY LIFE. 
 
 Physician's clerk — Dr James Hamilton, senior — Dr Thomas Spens 
 — The epidemic fever of 1817-20 — Its three forms — Attacked 
 with fever — Second attack — Treatment of the epidemic — Cold 
 affusion — Blood-letting — Change of type in fever — Treatment 
 of dysentery by opium, and of acute inflammations by opium 
 after blood-letting — Blood-letting in acute inflammations, 
 
 CHAPTER YII. 
 
 GRADUATION ROYAL MEDICAL SOCIETY. 
 
 Awkward prelude to examination — Examined by Gregory, Monro, 
 and Rutherford — A turbulent Hibernian — A trial for libel in 
 the Royal Medical Society — Comparatio literarum, . . 15" 
 
CONTENTS. XI 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 INFIRMARY LIFE ENDS RESURRECTIONING. 
 
 House-surgeon — Sir W. Newbigging — Conservative surgery — 
 
 Medical knighthoods — Sir George Ballingall — Resurrectioning, 170 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 STUDY IN LONDON. 
 
 I leave Edinburgh Infirmary — Advantages of resident medical 
 appointments there — Fall in love — Voyage to London — St 
 Bartholomew's Hospital — Become physician's pupil — The 
 medical staff — Inadequate medical service — Non-regulation of 
 pathological dissections — Defective medical instruction — Sur- 
 gery at St Bartholomew's — Abernethy — Lawrence — Astley 
 Cooper — Death of my father, ... . 181 
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 
 Second voyage to London — Brighton to Dieppe — First impres- 
 sions of France — Diligence Celerifere — The Palais Royal — A 
 useful hint in the Theatre Francais — Lessons in French and 
 dancing — French " victories " — French soldiers — Mortuary ser- 
 vice — Mars, Georges, and Talma — Introductions — An heir to 
 the Bourbons, ....... 
 
 CHAPTEE XL 
 
 STUDY IN PARIS. 
 
 Professors and lecturers — L'Herminier — Fouquier — Boyer — Bad 
 surgery — A preposterous operation — Dupuytren — His gentle- 
 ness — Lecture on tetanus — Baron Larrey — Napoleon and Lar- 
 rey — Esquirol — Hospice des Enfans Trouves — Broussais — Vau- 
 quelin — Dumas — Gay-Lussac — Thenard — Orfila — The Insti- 
 tute — Laplace — Berthollet — Marmont — Arago — Ampere — 
 Magendie — Experiments on mad dogs — Mr Dick on hydro- 
 phobia, . . ..... 
 
CONTEXTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 INCIDENTS AND CHEMICAL STUDY IN PARIS. 
 
 Tlie Catacombs — Mon Dieu ! quelle figure ! — Charles Adair's duel 
 — Amicable contest with him — Antimony in pneumonia — A 
 dietetic deception— A New-Year's-Day dinner — Napoleon and 
 the Swiss regiments — Distribution de vivres — Cuvier's mu- 
 seum — Robiquet's laboratory — My chemical work — Conscien- 
 tiousness required, in organic analysis — Pourquoi ne portez- 
 vous pas lej upon ? ...... 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 PROFESSORSHIP OP MEDICAL JURISPRUDENCE. 
 
 Chair falls vacant — Strange circumstances of my candidature and 
 election — My course of lectures — Success of the class — Connec- 
 tion with medico-legal trials — Importance of studying both 
 sides — Medical evidence in railway accident trials — A shifty 
 witness — Prevalent ignorance of medical jurisprudence — Five 
 common errors — Toxicological inquiries — Adulteration of drugs 
 — Treatise on Poisons, ...... 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 SCIENTIFIC AND MEDICO-LEGAL MATTERS. 
 
 Oil-gas versus coal-gas — Sir "Walter Scott's advice on patents — 
 Action of poisons on plants — Burke and Hare — Original in- 
 vestigations — Result of the trial — Dr Knox, . . . 299 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 GEORGE IV. 
 
 The King visits Edinburgh — Dress generally adopted — The King 
 
 at the theatre — A pit squeeze — Its effects, . . 312 
 
CONTENTS. 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 TOWN COUNCIL AND SENATUS. 
 
 Power of the Town Council complete at the first — Lord Provost 
 Drumraond initiates a century of freedom — Town Council 
 resumes authority — Their "visitation" in 1825 — Eepeated 
 contests — Prostration of the Senatus — Reaction and public 
 meeting — Bill for improvement of the Universities of Scotland 
 — Consequent great advance of the University of Edinburgh, . 
 
 CHAPTEE XVII. 
 
 THE SENATUS. 
 
 The cause of medical jurisprudence upheld — Dr James Hamilton's 
 retort — His quarrels and lawsuits with other professors — His 
 humanity — His unexpected leniency to a candidate for degree 
 — The Town Council attempts to found a professorship of 
 Practical Chemistry — The Laird of Dalswinton on writing to 
 the newspapers, ....... 
 
 CHAPTEE XVIII. 
 
 A PEDESTEIAN TOUR. 
 
 Unexampled drought and heat in 1826, from March till autumn — 
 Edinburgh fashions changed thereby — The crops very early — 
 The severe frost of 1813-14 — Mountain ramble with Dr E. 
 Turner — Ascent of Ben Lomond foiled by the mist — The 
 Trossachs inn — How to sound a pool — A refreshing swim — 
 Glen Ogle to Killin — Ascent of Ben Lawers — The fathomless 
 pool at Moness — Dunkeld — A guide tackled uphill — Perth, . 
 
 CHAPTEE XIX. 
 
 PROFESSIONAL HISTORY. 
 
 Appointed physician to the Royal Infirmary in 1827 — Aim to be 
 consulting physician — DrBuchan — Two physicians succeed Dr 
 James Hamilton — Number raised to three on Dr Cullen's 
 death — Dr Short — Marriage at Kirknewton in 1827 — A week's 
 visit to Glasgow — Anecdotes of Dr Thomas Thomson — Return 
 to the family circle, ...... 
 
XIV CONTEXTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 PROFESSIONAL HISTORY. 
 
 ' Edinburgh Medical and Surgical Journal ' — Extensive epidemic 
 fever in 1827 among the poor — Characters of the fever — Article 
 on fever in the ' Library of Medicine ' — Intermittent fever — 
 Epidemic dysentery — Value of opium in this disease — Re- 
 searches on diseases of the kidneys — A book thereon — Lectures 
 on this subject, ....... 370 
 
 CHAPTEE XXI. 
 
 SOME CHEMICAL INQUIRIES. 
 
 Hva-hva tree juice — Whey -like and milky serum of the blood — 
 Experiments on the action of air on blood — Gurjun oil — Indian 
 caoutchouc — Persian naphtha — Rangoon petroleum — Fore- 
 stalled by a few months only in the discovery of paraffin — Dr 
 Simpson and paraffin-oil — The Torbanehill mineral — An event- 
 ful jury trial — " Stick to that" — Another great lawsuit — Deep 
 interest in the cpaestion — Conclusions as to Young's paraffin-oil 
 — The law of patents, ...... 388 
 
 CHAPTEE XXII. 
 
 EARLY DAYS IX THE SENATUS ACADEMICUS. 
 
 The Principal and Professors in 1822 — Principal Baird— William 
 Ritchie, D.D. — Hugh Meiklejohn, D.D. — Alexander Brunton, 
 D.D.— Pluralism in the Scottish Church— The Faculty of Arts 
 — Leslie — Pillans the successor of Professor Alexander Chris- 
 tison in the Latin Chair — His enthusiasm as a patron of edu- 
 cation — Failure of his powers with age — His resignation con- 
 trived — "Wallace — Babbage — " Christopher Xorth " — Great age 
 attained bv manv members of Senatus, .... 404 
 
AUTOBIOGKAPHY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 CHILDHOOD AND SCHOOL-DAYS. 
 
 PARENTAGE BROTHERS DR MILNE's SCHOOL HIGH SCHOOL 
 
 ntVING's CLASS CLASS BOOBIES — HENRY COCKBURN DR ADAM 
 
 INTERREGNUM PILLANS CLASSICAL SYSTEM OF EDUCATION 
 
 GAMES. 
 
 I have not the vanity to think that the incidents of 
 my life, uneventful as it has been to all but myself, 
 can convey either encouragement, or warning, or in- 
 struction to those whom I must some day soon leave 
 behind me in this world. But having lately [23d 
 February 1871] entered on the fiftieth year of my 
 professorship, and having just finished my University 
 Lectures for the season with a week of fatiguing 
 work, I find I require relaxation from routine toil 
 in my professorial and professional duties, as well 
 as from a very unusual amount of the turmoil of 
 public strife in this turbulent city during the last 
 six months. Could I as easily reach the foot of a 
 
 VOL. I. A 
 
2 MY FATHER. 
 
 Highland mountain, or the shore of a Highland 
 loch, as I can betake myself to this sheet of paper, 
 climbing the mountain and rowing on the loch 
 would be my choice for repose and refreshment. 
 I must stick to town, however, for some months 
 longer, before earning a right to the pleasures of 
 idleness ; and it has occurred to me that there may 
 be complete distraction from ordinary mental pur- 
 suits, as well as the relief always derived from 
 amusement, in thus recalling something of what I 
 have done, or witnessed, from a position of some little 
 prominence, in which I was placed at a very early 
 age. Moreover, the time cannot be far off when the 
 duty will be imposed on some kind friend of furnish- 
 ing half a column of biography to the newspapers, 
 and upon some President the labour of an obituary 
 sketch for his address at the annual opening meet- 
 ing of the Royal Society; and having myself felt 
 the irksomeness of ferreting out sound information 
 in the case of my departed friends in the like circum- 
 stances, it may be an act of mercy to furnish my 
 future biographer with facts in my own case from 
 the fountain-head. 
 
 My father, Professor of Humanity in the University 
 of Edinburgh, was descended from agricultural fore- 
 fathers in Forfarshire. The first Scottish member of 
 the race must have come from a Norwegian pirate in 
 days of old. Mine is not a family name in Scotland, 
 and is indeed rare anywhere in the Scottish coun- 
 ties ; but it is very common in Norway, and also in 
 
HIS FAMILY. 
 
 a modified form (Christensen, Christiansen) both in 
 Sweden and in Denmark. It is extremely rare in 
 any Scotch county but Forfarshire, on whose coasts 
 frequent descents were made in ancient times by the 
 Norwegian piratical hordes, otherwise called, when 
 compliment was intended, Vikings. My father, more- 
 over, was a genuine Scandinavian in frame — tall, 
 broad-chested, long-bodied, strong-limbed, very mus- 
 cular every way, with small features for his size, calm 
 determination in his looks, and of intense though 
 quiet energy. I have heard it said that he was the 
 strongest man in his parish ; and my elder brother 
 has often told me that when he was run away with 
 by a pony at full gallop in his boyhood, my father 
 gave pursuit, and on foot overtook and caught the 
 runaway. 
 
 My father's grandfather, leaving his native county, 
 became a considerable farmer in Berwickshire. But 
 in his latter years affairs went wrong with him ; and 
 owing to this calamity, his son, my grand-parent, 
 never rose higher than to be a small hill-tenant in the 
 lower Lammermoors, somewhere between Edrom and 
 Cockburnspath. My father was the eldest of the 
 family, which consisted of seven, — five stalwart sons 
 and two daughters. Encouraged by my father's suc- 
 cess in life, several of his brothers tried, with his aid, 
 to follow his example, but little came of their efforts. 
 The son of one of them, however, has been [1871] 
 for forty-eight years the much-respected clergyman 
 of the town and parish of Biggar. My father's first 
 move in life placed him, at the age of nineteen, in the 
 
4 MY MOTHER. 
 
 office of parochial schoolmaster of his native parish, 
 Edrom. Ere long he became head-master of an 
 academy at Dalkeith, which acquired at that time 
 some fame as a school. Thence he was translated to 
 the High School of Edinburgh. In 1806 he was 
 appointed to the vacant chair of Humanity, or Latin 
 (Literas Humaniores), in the University. This crown- 
 ing success in public life he owed not more to his 
 classical attainments than to his varied acquaintance 
 with philosophy and the physical sciences, which 
 had already made him the associate of the most 
 eminent of the remarkable Literary, philosophical, 
 scientific, and professional men of his time in Edin- 
 burgh. His cast of mind and accomplishments did 
 much to give direction to my studies in the Uni- 
 versity, and form to my subsequent pursuits. His 
 rule over his family was absolute, but unseen and 
 unfelt. I never got a hard look or a sharp word 
 from him but once ; and I deserved the rebuke I got. 
 When I was an impudent High School boy, I called a 
 woman in our neighbourhood by an ill name — of which 
 she was by no means undeserving. She followed 
 me straightway to my father, to whom she told an 
 unvarnished tale ; and I got at once in her presence 
 two or three peremptory words of admonition, which 
 answered their purpose so far as I was concerned, 
 but, I am afraid, left my accuser " no better than she 
 should have been." 
 
 My mother was a Johnston, born of a long hue of 
 burghers in Edinburgh, well known in the Town 
 Council, in which one of her brothers, Mr Robert 
 
MY FATHERS GENEROSITY. 5 
 
 Johnston, was a much-esteemed member and official. 
 As they sealed with the Flying Spur, they must have 
 claimed descent from the Border rievers of Annan- 
 dale. With a pirate at one end of the line and a 
 robber at the other, one may fairly pretend to a decent 
 ancestry. " There be land-rats, and there be water- 
 rats ; " and I am come of both probably. My mother 
 was a first-rate domestic administrator. Her whole 
 energy was devoted, by strong affection, to her hus- 
 band and family. The latter she easily kept in good 
 order — not without an occasional knock or two in 
 my own case. The former she influenced much 
 through intense attachment, and justifiable pride in 
 his position and many fine qualities. But one 
 failing of his on virtue's side she could not con- 
 trol — his perpetually succumbing to indiscriminate 
 charity. He was not exactly the counterpart of my 
 late colleague, Dr Alison : he did not get daily from 
 his servant a pound's worth of small change before 
 starting for work in the morning, and return in the 
 evening without a single sixpence to take out of his 
 pocket on going to bed. But no description of im- 
 pecuniosity, real or pretended, appealed to his heart 
 or purse in vain. Pauper, mendicant, and " gentle 
 beggar" alike made of him their prey. Espe- 
 cially did he fall a victim to the heedless, selfish 
 petitioner for gratis tickets for attendance on his 
 university classes. The unscrupulosity of the asker 
 was often not more astonishing than the facility of 
 the granter. I remember a rough young mountaineer 
 bringing one day an introduction, as the prodigy of 
 
6 GRATIS CLASS TICKETS. 
 
 his parish, and a request for a gratis ticket, from a 
 Highland minister of whom my father knew nothing. 
 The prodigy got his ticket as a matter of course. 
 Next year the same faithful shepherd sent three more 
 sheep, all equally prodigies, on the same errand, and 
 with the like success. I am afraid to estimate the 
 cost of this indulgence ; but I am sure that a thou- 
 sand pounds was under the sum of which, during my 
 father's fifteen years' occupancy of his university 
 chair, his heirs were defrauded through an amiable 
 weakness. 
 
 I may here mention that the family name, and its 
 notoriety in that particular, exposed me to the im- 
 petrations of many similar suitors as soon as I became 
 Professor, two years after my father's death. Having 
 a fair share of natural feeling for talented poverty, I 
 would have saved myself the pain of refusal. But a 
 slender purse at the outset of professorial life, and the 
 warning of paternal example, soon impressed on me the 
 necessity of caution. Accordingly I borrowed a hint 
 from an anecdote regarding a noted Edinburgh wit 
 and eminent extra -academical lecturer on anatomy 
 of his day, Dr John Barclay. Mr Laing, a very 
 eminent bibbopole, father of the well-known anti- 
 quarian, David Laing, and a great friend of Barclay, 
 sent him a needy student with a request for a ticket 
 of admission to his anatomical lectures. Barclay, 1 a 
 
 1 Dr John Barclay was a nephew of Barclay the founder of the sect 
 of " Bereaus." He was educated for the ministry, but afterwards studied 
 medicine both at Edinburgh and London. His name is associated with 
 an attempt to introduce a new and simpler anatomical nomenclature. 
 He died in 1826. 
 
BARCLAYS DEVICE. 7 
 
 benevolent and generous man, readily granted the 
 free ticket, but at the same time told the youth 
 to accompany him, and proceeded to Laing's shop 
 hard by. There he asked to see some class-books 
 on anatomy, selected three guineas' worth, put them 
 into the youth's hands, and said to him, "You can 
 do no good at my lectures without class-books : 
 these are of the same price as my ticket : Mr 
 Laing makes you a present of them." On the lad 
 demurring, Barclay, with gleeful look and kindness 
 of manner, bundled him out of the shop with the 
 books in his arms. I therefore made it a condition 
 with any similar suitor to me, that he should be 
 a contributor to the maintenance or studies of his 
 protege; which condition soon became known, and 
 lessened greatly the number of such appeals. Some 
 years ago the Senatus Academicus resolved to put a 
 stop to what had become a serious grievance, and we 
 came to an agreement to submit every application 
 for free tickets to a committee chosen from all the 
 Faculties, who should examine, not only into the 
 circumstances of each applicant, but likewise into his 
 aptitude for study and his means for qualifying 
 himself for a profession ; and should grant him, in 
 the event of approval, the privilege of free admission 
 to all the classes in any one Faculty. This measure 
 has proved an effectual check. I have had only two 
 applications during the last five years. 
 
 But I have wandered, I see, far from the right track, 
 to which it is high time that I should return. 
 
 I was born on the 18th July 1797, half an hour 
 
8 MY BIKTH. 
 
 before my twin-brother, now [1871] minister of the 
 parish of Foulden, — also before the arrival of the 
 midwife. Accoucheurs, now so numerous (unfortun- 
 ately, I think, for the medical profession), were known 
 in those days only to the upper classes of society. 
 My father at this period occupied a detached house, 
 somewhere to the north of the Crosscauseway East. 
 But I never thought of identifying it till all who 
 could have aided me in doing so had left this world ; 
 and the locality is now a dense mass of undistinguish- 
 able habitations. My father being in the town at the 
 moment, and the family otherwise unprepared for my 
 sudden arrival, it happened strangely enough that 
 assistance was given by the late Sir George War- 
 render of Lochend, the present [1871] Baronet's uncle, 
 at the time a boy of eleven, who boarded with my 
 father. In after-life Sir George often claimed to have 
 thus been my very first acquaintance in this world : 
 and he amply repaid whatever privilege that incident 
 may be thought to have conveyed ; for in 1822, when 
 he was a Lord of the Admiralty, he was the direct 
 means of my being appointed Professor in the Uni- 
 versity — which was my first vantage-ground, whence 
 I stepped to all my subsequent successes. 
 
 I have been assured by old friends that my parents 
 looked on the advent of their twins as a consolation 
 vouchsafed them under heavy family affliction. For 
 not long before they had lost two daughters in early 
 childhood from hooping-cough. The only other mem- 
 ber of the family was my brother John, eight years 
 my senior, subsequently an advocate and Sheriff of 
 
MY ELDER BROTHER. 9 
 
 Ayrshire, who after my father's death became my sole 
 adviser, and for many long years my inseparable com- 
 panion. It was not, however, till adult age that I 
 knew how inestimable a treasure I possessed in my 
 brother John. Until that time of life, indeed, a dif- 
 ference of eight years is generally an insuperable bar- 
 rier between an elder and a younger brother so long 
 as their male parent is alive, as they have little com- 
 munity of pursuit, whether at study or at play. My 
 recollections of my brother in boyhood and youth re- 
 call to me a hard student and successful angler, but 
 no particular alliances between us except twice, about 
 my twelfth year, — first, when he set my twin-brother 
 and me to cut up the leaves of eighteen quarto volumes 
 of his ' Morison's Dictionary of Decisions,' for a reward, 
 of sixpence a volume ; and secondly, when he guided us 
 astray, and nearly caused us to make a night of it, on 
 what was then an extensive moor between Jedburgh 
 and Bedrule. He rode from Bedrule, a distance of 
 seven miles, to meet my twin-brother and me at 
 Jedburgh, on the arrival of the Edinburgh coach, 
 to be our guide to our destination. Night began to 
 fall, when he resolved to take a short cut across the 
 moor. But having studied the map of the county, 
 and being already accustomed to look to the stars for 
 my guidance at night, I charged him with following a 
 course right away from our destination. He rather 
 sneered at my presumption, and pursued his way till 
 we were stopped by a steep grassy ravine, which luck- 
 ily no persuasion could induce his horse to descend. 
 We therefore tried another course to round the ravine, 
 
10 EARLY RECOLLECTION'S. 
 
 when, in the silence of the now deepening darkness, 
 we heard the distant jolting of cart -wheels in the 
 direction from which we had come. John judged it 
 prudent to bear towards the sound ; and in no long 
 time we rejoined the road, and came upon the cart 
 conveying our luggage. 
 
 I cannot say that I have any of those early infant 
 recollections which most people pretend to have re- 
 tained, but which are commonly nothing else than 
 recollections of things told them by their nurses. It 
 is no great matter to recollect having been pursued, 
 at the age of five, along with my twin-brother, by a 
 grumbling bull across a meadow at Peffer Mill to the 
 door of our country quarters there ; or when seven, 
 ►having been pitched down an area in Drumniond 
 Street by a wicked street boy, and awaking after- 
 wards in bed with four gorged leeches hanging at my 
 temples ; or when eight years old having taken to 
 my father, whde in bed in the morning, the news of 
 the battle of Trafalgar and death of Nelson. These 
 incidents I could scarcely forget. Of other equally 
 early matters but a dim recollection remains. 
 
 At the age of six I was put to the English school in 
 Drummond Street of Mr Milne, afterwards the Eev. 
 Dr Milne, minister of Dollar, and the first Principal 
 of the Dollar Institution in that parish. Milne was a 
 short, strong-made man, endowed with great energy, 
 and a powerful squint. He divided in the Old Town, 
 with Mr Fulton in the New Town, popularity as a 
 teacher in Edinburgh. By common consent, Fulton 
 bore away the palm as an elocutionist, but Milne as 
 
MILNE S FEARLESS USE OF FRENCH. 11 
 
 a teacher of grammar. The former was little more 
 than a pedagogue. Milne was a fair classical scholar, 
 a dabbler in science, a squire of dames, — in short, a 
 man of accomplishments, who shone in society as a 
 man of wit, not without a dash of eccentricity. He 
 was, along with my brother John, much in the social 
 circle of the little court of the Comte d'Artois, subse- 
 quently Charles X. of France, who spent several years 
 in Holyrood Palace. Milne's fearless use of the French 
 language brought him into many amusing scrapes in 
 this society, of which the following is an apt illus- 
 tration. One evening, cutting for partners at whist, 
 he fell to the lot of a very lively, clever lady — a 
 Madame Boyd — who seemed to be the life of the 
 refugee party. She, well aware that Milne was no 
 great player, paid herself some mock congratulations 
 at her good fortune in a partner ; upon which he, with 
 the air and manner of a French beau, said, " Madame, 
 je ferai votre plaisir toute la nuit." " Oh, monsieur," 
 replied she, " la soiree suffira." 
 
 I must have owed much to Milne's teaching, though 
 I cannot now remember what. For, on passing from 
 him to the High School at the age of eight, and draw- 
 ing by lot a very low place in a class of 120 boys, I 
 speedily "crept out of the ruck," and found a perma- 
 nent, but by no means a resting, place on the dux 
 form. My master was Mr George Irving — quite new 
 to the school, — an attractive, kindly man, who had the 
 tact — a rare faculty in those days — to rule his scholars 
 under the flag of mercy, and to make them work never- 
 theless. According to custom, I was four years with 
 
12 THE HIGH SCHOOL. 
 
 him. In the first year I was fourth boy at the 
 examination, in the second year third, in the third 
 second, and in the fourth dux. My twin-brother was 
 my fellow-pupil, and always not far from me. 
 
 It may be a pleasing idea, but it is a dubious meas- 
 ure, to have twins constantly together, at school and 
 at play. The one who gets a little ahead of the other, 
 as one of them is sure to do, is by parent and teacher 
 unconsciously brought always to the front. The other 
 of course falls instinctively into the second rank, leans 
 too much on his brother, loses self-rehance, and is apt 
 to feel too bttle the stimulus of emulation and the 
 ambition to distinguish himself. But for this, my 
 brother, who had excellent parts, dispositions, and 
 acquirements, as all well know who have been inti- 
 mate with him since he became a clergyman, could 
 scarcely have faded to make himself a prominent 
 member of his Church. As it is, he remains [1871], 
 after fifty years' service in it, minister of the little 
 parish of Foulden, in Berwickshire, into which he was 
 inducted in August 1821. His natural modesty, in 
 fact, degenerated into shyness and under-estimation 
 of his own endowments and power, — very much 
 owing, as I do bebeve, to his having been trained 
 in all things, till the age of eighteen, in close com- 
 pany with his more forward brother. 
 
 A strange instance of his want of self-reliance in 
 urgent circumstances I shall never forget. As a 
 clergyman, his discourses were characterised by Scrip- 
 tural purity, practical bearing, terseness of composi- 
 tion, and simplicity in delivery. He composed them 
 
MY TWIN BROTHER'S FIRST SERMON. 13 
 
 with ease. His memory was so quick and exact, that 
 he could prepare a new sermon while pacing up and 
 down in his garden ; mend and patch it afterwards, 
 as if he were correcting the press ; and preach it word 
 for word as thus stored in his head, — not writing it out 
 till after delivery. Nevertheless, when he set about 
 getting up his sermon on being introduced for the 
 first time to his parish pulpit, he broke down alto- 
 gether, was unable even to make a beginning, and so 
 moped for several days that I inquired the cause, and 
 drew from him a confession. Neither joke nor en- 
 couragement on my part made matters any better. 
 I therefore, in a rash moment, asked for his text, and 
 sat down, for the first and last time, to write a sermon. 
 But, alas ! I exhausted my whole stock of divinity on 
 what would make scarce half a sermon for a Scottish 
 audience. The example, however, was sufficient to 
 extract the rest from himself; and when he preached 
 next day, truly he must have been a dull hearer who 
 did not detect the hand callida junctura, or the 
 superiority of the second limb of the discourse. 
 
 I have now before me a list, obtained in 1843, of 
 all who at any period attended Irving's class from 
 October 1805 to July 1809 inclusive. It is a melan- 
 choly catalogue ; and I would add to its sadness were 
 I to tell the fate of several in it. Of 156 only four- 
 teen are known to me to be alive ; 9 1 are certainly 
 dead ; of the ultimate fate of the remaining 511 am 
 ignorant, though several were known to me to "live 
 prosperous gentlemen " ten years ago. Of my school- 
 fellows in the upper region of the class, James Mathe- 
 
14 irving's scholars. 
 
 son, who was my next neighbour in our fourth year 
 at examination-clay, and who fought me hard for the 
 first place, went early into a mercantile house in Cal- 
 cutta, removed thence to Canton, made there an 
 enormous fortune — £1,200,000, it was said — chiefly 
 in the opium trade, and brought it home with him. 
 He was afterwards created Sir James Matheson, 
 Baronet, of Achany and the Lews. Number three 
 in our fourth year, Thomas Robertson, is now [1871] 
 a prominent and respected stockbroker in Edinburgh ; 
 having failed in his first adventure, as a Writer to the 
 Signet, to break the family fence which then, and 
 even now, though to a less extent, kept the best of 
 that branch of the legal profession in certain estab- 
 lished lines of descent. David Marjoribanks, son of 
 Sir John, a former Lord Provost of Edinburgh (of 
 some note as an administrator and vigorous Tory), 
 became a stockbroker in London, under the patronage 
 of Coutts & Co., of course made a fortune, married 
 another with Miss Robertson of Ladykirk, and is now 
 [1871] Mr Robertson of Ladykirk, M.P. for Berwick- 
 shire on " Liberal" principles, and, out of the same 
 political seed, Lord Lieutenant of the county.* We 
 were most intimate at school for six years, till 1811; 
 and in 1820, meeting in company in London at James 
 Wardrop's, the oculist, he affected to have some faint 
 recollection of me, — being the only one of my school- 
 companions who in after-life has not met me with 
 cordial greetings and kind remembrance. David 
 Dundas, third son of John Dundas, W.S. — the boy 
 
 * Afterwards Lord Marjoribanks. 
 
IRVING S SCHOLARS. 15 
 
 of greatest talent of us all, but who did not take 
 kindly to school-work till we got into the rector's 
 class — joined the English Bar, rose rapidly to be Sir 
 David Dundas, Solicitor - General for England, and 
 would in all probability have sat on the Woolsack 
 before now, had his health not broken down under 
 the enormous toils of a prosperous English counsel 
 and political official. Eobert Dundas, eldest son of 
 Chief Baron Dundas of the Scottish Exchequer, and 
 ere long, like him, Dundas of Arniston, had solid but 
 not shining parts, which fitted him for filling some 
 space in county affairs, had he not died before middle 
 age. Douglas Cheape, entered at the Scottish Bar, 
 was a conspicuous Tory in the troublesome days of 
 1819, had among his intimates a high reputation 
 for wit, was for some time in our University a 
 most agreeable colleague as Professor of Rhetoric, 
 and resigning on his succeeding to an estate, died 
 an idle country gentleman. David Macfarlane, son 
 of a well-known advocate of that day, had a fearful 
 stutter, of which we used to think Davie sometimes 
 took advantage when he did not know his lesson, 
 and of which he gradually got rid after going out 
 as a civilian to India. He was long Police-Judge at 
 Calcutta ; and retired about middle age, returning to 
 his native city with a civilian's comfortable fortune 
 and retiring allowances ; but he died not many 
 years afterwards of paralysis. John Dalzell, young- 
 est son of the Professor of Greek of that name, a 
 great favourite in the class, died young at the Scot- 
 tish Bar, with fair promise of success and distinction. 
 
16 IRVING S SCHOLARS. 
 
 Andrew Combe, always looking an invalid, became Dr 
 Combe, phrenologist, and was brother of George 
 Combe, who was long the leader of the sect in Britain. 
 Andrew's life was that of a constant valetudinarian, 
 and he died in middle life, respected much by all who 
 knew him for his solid professional knowledge and 
 kindly disposition. David Marshall, belonging to 
 one of the jeweller-families of the name, rose in the 
 East India sendee to be captain of one of the frigate- 
 built argosies of the old Company in the days of its 
 monopoly of the trade with India and China. David 
 Syme, a member of the Bar, brother of my dear 
 departed friend and colleague, lives [1871] at Kinross, 
 Sheriff-substitute of the county. Bobert Clerk Bat- 
 tray, son of a baron of the Scotch Exchecpaer, and a 
 nominal advocate, succeeded at an early age to a fine 
 estate, and Hved and died taking care of it. Very 
 similar was the lot of John Home Drummond, grand- 
 son of Lord Karnes, and younger brother of Mr H. 
 Drummond of Blah'-Drummond. James Campbell — 
 son of a sobcitor, I think — emigrated to Jamaica, in 
 the department of the law, and died in middle life 
 the Honourable James, Member of the Island House 
 of Assembly. I may add John Sinclair, and also 
 Fletcher Norton, though not among the Dii majores 
 of the school, because the former succeeded to the 
 baronetcy of Dunbeath in Caithness, and the latter 
 to the English barony of Grantley, — and both still 
 survive [1871], the former a valetudinarian of 77. 
 Lastly, John Beid, son of a grocer in Bank Street ; 
 John Dick, son of a small Cowgate spirit -dealer; 
 
HENRY COCKBUEN. 17 
 
 and Peter Charles, son of an opulent candlemaker at 
 the Sciennes, and city bailie, — who each held a good 
 place in the class, — were led by the circumstances of 
 their position into occupations in which their High 
 School education could be of no great service to 
 them, nor could it help to make them conspicuous. 
 
 It is a common saying that a man's place in society 
 does not often fall according to his place at school — 
 that boobies may make a figure, and duxes none, on the 
 stage of life. This notion may be a solace to boobies 
 and their parents, but I am convinced it is a fatal mis- 
 take, kept up probably by some rare but remarkable 
 exception, quce firmat regulam. Such an exception 
 is often quoted in Edinburgh in the case of the late 
 famous member of the Scottish Bar and Bench, Henry 
 Cockburn. He himself in some memoranda published 
 in his biography, alludes to his failure at the High 
 School, and ascribes his want of success to his 
 teacher not having understood the art of winning 
 boys to diligence, but attempting to thrust it into 
 them by severity. As his teacher was my father, 
 who in his later years was almost idolised by his old 
 pupils, — whom Lord Cockburn himself supported by 
 his own opinion and influence in the competition for 
 the Professorship of Latin in 1806, — and who never 
 failed in making a scholar out of good materials in 
 any other instance that I ever heard of, — I am dis- 
 posed to think the real cause had been either mis- 
 management at home, or perhaps an inherent idleness, 
 which it was notorious to his professional friends that 
 Cockburn never overcame. Of this professional opinion 
 
 VOL. I. B 
 
18 COCKBtJRX AXD HIS COUNSELLOR. 
 
 of him I remember well the following curious illustra- 
 tion. When at the Bar, he encountered in one of his 
 
 early morning walks , his junior in standing, 
 
 though not in years, himself in a high position at the 
 Bar, but who had recently fallen into the sad calamity 
 
 of drink-craving. Drink affected very singularly, 
 
 as I knew well, being intimately acquainted with him. 
 When in one of his paroxysms, he would show to a 
 stranger no trace of it in his gait, his articulation, or 
 even his ideas. He became much flushed, which might 
 have escaped notice because of his usually florid coun- 
 tenance. He lost his constitutional shyness, becom- 
 ing, however, thereby more brilliant, though some- 
 times also rude. He always had no recollection 
 afterwards of what he said or did in this state. He 
 was in one of these fits when he encountered Cock- 
 burn, who, for a fellow -advocate and fellow-Whig, 
 was not at all intimate with him. Cockburn was, 
 
 therefore, not a fittle surprised when began to 
 
 play the part of a kind but offended parent, and gave 
 much good advice and some remonstrances, — told him 
 he had the finest talents at the Bar ; that he ought to 
 be at the head of it, and would be too, but for his 
 laziness ; that he ought to study his cases ; that it 
 was a shame to him to trust to his quickness and 
 promptitude, and come, as he did, before the Bench, 
 evidently without having prepared his case ; that 
 clients and agents noticed his unpreparedness, which 
 was telling seriously upon him at the Bar ; that he 
 must see how men much junior to him were treading 
 upon his heels ; — and more to the same effect. Cock- 
 
DUXES AND BOOBIES. 19 
 
 burn was astonished, but frankly told the story in 
 the Parliament House, acknowledging he had got 
 true and sound advice, but wondering at the source 
 
 from which it came. was, of course, informed of 
 
 the freedom he had taken, greatly to the mortification 
 and shame of a very sensitive man. The incident 
 might have cured two talented and most estimable 
 men. But it mended neither : one died in the odour 
 of idleness, the other in that of brandy. 
 
 The several fates of my schoolfellows afford no 
 countenance to the vulgar saying which I have re- 
 ferred to. Those near the top of Irving's class, who 
 lived long enough, have, with few exceptions, filled 
 more or less space in the public eye. Of those, on 
 the contrary, who were near the bottom, not one has 
 succeeded, to my knowledge, in making even — money. 
 Four brothers, sons of an Edinburgh carver and gilder, 
 who sat all steadily on the booby form, and occasion- 
 ally shoulder to shoulder at the very end of it, con- 
 tinued to hold the same relation to one another, and 
 to society, to the end. 
 
 When my brother and I began our High School 
 course, my father was so occupied with his first year's 
 labours at the University that he could take little 
 charge of ours at the High School, and therefore com- 
 mitted the preparation of our lessons to a tutor. He, 
 a quiet, good-natured, elderly man, had no difficulty 
 in keeping us to our work, with the aid of an occa- 
 sional inquiry on the part of my father. But when 
 our third year drew to a close, we discovered that our 
 tutor was not always prepared to overcome our diffi- 
 
20 A SCHOOL RIVAL. 
 
 culties, and we therefore asked to be left to our own 
 resources during our fourth year, which rather daring 
 petition was readdy granted. The result that year 
 being satisfactory, the same freedom was continued 
 when we passed into the rector's class next year, and 
 afterwards to the University. Nor did my father 
 now place himself more than previously in loco tutoris. 
 He saw that we did our work. When we appealed to 
 him in a difficulty, he generally sent us back to work 
 it out, and very seldom with more than a hint to 
 guide us. This was all the aid we got from one 
 who could have put us ahead of all rivals, if he 
 had chosen. 
 
 I mention this circumstance, because, in an auto- 
 biographical sketch of our school-days in Dr Steven's 
 ' History of the High School,' our rectorial dux in our 
 sixth year, Archibald Carmichael, afterwards classical 
 master at the Edinburgh Academy, hints at his near 
 neighbour in the class, the professor's son, having 
 had advantageous " circumstances " in his favour. 
 But Carmichael ought to have known that my father 
 was one of the last men in the world to encourage 
 shams, or enable a son of his to achieve success 
 under false colours. He also, when squaring our 
 several advantages of position, might have added, 
 without any disparagement to his impartiality, — 
 firstly, that, if he was Latin dux of the High 
 School, I was Greek dux ; and secondly, that, in com- 
 peting for the former honour, a boy of fourteen 
 laboured under some disadvantage against a lad of 
 seventeen. The fact is, that in Greek Carmichael 
 
dr adam's class. 21 
 
 held, at our final examination, only the sixth place. 
 In one exercise, however, he beat all us Grecians hol- 
 low — viz., reading the Testament ad aperturam. 
 The reason was, that his father had so trained him 
 in the English New Testament that he had most of 
 it by heart. Consequently, he had only to deci- 
 pher the cabalistic Greek letters that denote chap- 
 ter and verse, and the translation was at his finger- 
 ends. We, his companions, used often to smile when 
 Carmichael thus triumphantly took the first place 
 from us all, knowing how surely at parsing or render- 
 ing into Greek he would tumble into his natural 
 position. But we thought it odd that our acute 
 rector, Pillans, did not seem to penetrate Carmichael's 
 secret. Perhaps he did penetrate it, but ignored it, 
 willing that his Latin dux should enjoy occasionally 
 a Greek victory. 
 
 In October 1809, according to ancient use-and-wont 
 in the High School, above one hundred of Irving's 
 boys passed into the rector's hands in their fifth year, 
 and these were soon promiscuously mingled with 
 about fifty of the rector's scholars of the previous 
 year, now in their sixth. I had then two months' 
 training under Dr Adam until his death. I am not 
 writing the biography of Adam, nor the history of the 
 High School, but merely my own. Therefore be it 
 known unto all whom it may concern, that I lost the 
 first three weeks of this novitiate through a severe 
 scald of the right foot, caused by my having brought 
 a big kitchen -kettle of boiling water down upon it 
 while bending a "shinty" at the fire in our country 
 
22 DAVID DUNDAS. 
 
 quarters. Meanwhile many of Irving's boys had got 
 above many of the boys left from the rector's previ- 
 ous year. But a new arrival, the dux of a private 
 school in the neighbourhood, taught by an able 
 teacher, Mr Mackay — a little boy, James Watson, 
 afterwards a rather unsuccessful advocate — strode 
 rapidly over my comrades, who frequently called to 
 know when I should be able to turn out and " take 
 up the running with him." At last they were in 
 despair, — Watson had headed all of Irving's scholars. 
 On my appearance I had to go below all boys of the 
 previous year, and thus it happened that I sat down 
 booby for the first and last time, to the great amuse- 
 ment of my comrades. It was for a very short time. 
 Adam gave me the needful opportunities. A few 
 long leaps brought me near the intruder, and on the 
 third day, if I do not err, I passed him with a " ruff " 
 from my old companions, which our good old master, 
 though a strict disciplinarian, winked at, not ill 
 pleased probably that the High School had asserted 
 its place. 
 
 Soon after this incident David Dundas awoke to a 
 knowledge of his strength, and distanced all of us of 
 his own year. With steady progress he approached 
 the top of the class, and actually seemed to threaten 
 a contest for the duxship of the school, even in his 
 first rector's year, and against the notorious Robert 
 Knox, the acknowledged head of the second-year's 
 scholars, — a person even then of marked ability, but 
 five years senior in age to Dundas and all of us who 
 were Dundas's contemporaries. Dundas, however, in 
 
PILLANS AS RECTOR. 23 
 
 his path as a conqueror, had to pass over the bodies 
 of his two elder brothers, Ralph and William (the 
 former died a young W.S., and the latter died, a few 
 years ago, a rich retired India civilian, and laird of 
 Ochtertyre, in the south of Perthshire, near Stirling). 
 His brothers took their defeat so much to heart — 
 especially William, on whom it made, evidently to us 
 all, a deep and lasting impression — that their father, 
 probably by advice of Pillans, withdrew David from 
 the class, and sent him to an English school. His 
 subsequent destiny has been already alluded to. 
 
 Dr Adam died in December 1809, about two months 
 after I became his pupil, and was succeeded by my 
 lately deceased and attached colleague in the Uni- 
 versity, James Pillans. The interregnum, fell into 
 the hands of Luke Fraser, an effete old man and 
 retired High School teacher, who had been four years 
 on the shelf of inaction, and whose offer to carry on 
 the class in the interval was accepted by the Town 
 Council in an ill-omened hour. Fraser had retired from 
 the school with the reputation of a merciless tyrant. 
 But he now resolved to redeem this part of his char- 
 acter by ruling the boys in his new capacity with the 
 rod of honour only. His code of boy's honour, how- 
 ever, developed itself in some half-dozen such singu- 
 lar practices, carried into effect with such eccentric 
 details, as led to nothing else than a well-organised 
 insubordination. In this state Pillans had to take us 
 in hand, and a hard task he found it to break us of 
 all the tricks we had been taught. In more than one 
 record which I have read of those days, the resistance he 
 
24 THE SUMMUil SUPPLICIUM. 
 
 encountered has been ascribed to the disappointment 
 of the boys, who naturally had, during the canvas for 
 the rectorship, a boyish bias in favour of a High School 
 master, and against an outsider. But this is an entire 
 mistake. The strange school habits created by Fraser's 
 oddities were utterly at variance alike with good order 
 and with Pillans's views of discipline, and his enter- 
 prising designs for improvement of the school ; and 
 our previous tuition under Fraser's honour-code had 
 been so complete that collision was inevitable. Col- 
 lision led to strife ; personal strife was at one time 
 imminent, and Pillans's success was so doubtful, that 
 it was afterwards currently said he was at one time 
 on the point of giving up his task in despair. But 
 Pillans was a resolute man, and I do not believe the 
 imputation. Contrary to his noble nature, however, 
 and to his well-considered opinions on school punish- 
 ments, he was at last, after much patience and endur- 
 ance, reduced to the sad necessity of inflicting the 
 summum supplicium of the school. The immediate 
 offence was a very trifle ; but it was in defiance of a 
 solemn warning and determined threat, the result of 
 much general wanton disobedience of the class for 
 some time before. This severe penalty was in- 
 flicted — for the second and last time in my presence 
 — upon Peter Henderson, a strong and always unruly 
 lad. He and two others, stout lads of seventeen like 
 himself, had come under a solemn league and cove- 
 nant, that, in the event of an attempt to subject any 
 of them to such punishment, the two others should 
 join in the defence. When the repulsive preparations 
 
COUNTING "PALMIES." 25 
 
 were far advanced, amidst the powerful struggles of 
 the victim, one of the band, Hamilton, afterwards 
 of Sundrum, stood up and called across the room 
 to Knox, the third of the triumvirate, to "come 
 on ! " Had he met with the expected response, the 
 class, so great was the excitement, would have fol- 
 lowed like a flock of sheep. And what then ? But 
 Knox stood still, bent eagerly forward, and gave no 
 sign. Pillans gained the day. Henderson left the 
 school disgraced, and in a day or two more Hamilton 
 was expelled for firing a pistol, by way of bravado, in 
 the staircase. Eumour, with her false tongue, sent 
 a bullet through the class-room door. 
 
 Pillans had achieved a victory ; but there was still 
 one remaining trick for him to discover and quash. 
 He had not yet used the " taws " in the ordinary way, 
 but soon found a suitable occasion. Fraser had taught 
 us that masters were apt to be sometimes too severe 
 with their punishments, and therefore authorised us 
 to count his " palmies," and to call out when we 
 thought the culprit had enough. Accordingly, when 
 Pillans inflicted the first whack, the whole class, on 
 every side around him, sung out " One ! " Pillans, 
 much startled, looked round and round with a threat- 
 ening air, but took no other notice. The class went 
 on — " Two — Three — Four," and now added, " That's 
 enough ! that's enough ! that's enough ! " Pillans, 
 however, went on with five — six, and then stopped. 
 The same morning there arose a second occasion for 
 the taws ; but he put off execution till the afternoon. 
 Before commencing, he promised us the classical pun- 
 
26 IN PILLANS's CLASS. 
 
 ishment of decimation, if we should repeat the morn- 
 ing's offence. But decimation leaves many chances of 
 escape, and had no terrors for us. Again, at the first 
 stroke, the whole class shouted "One!" Pillans, highly 
 incensed, vowed repetition of the summum suppli- 
 cium, the horrors of which were fresh in our re- 
 collection. At the second stroke, one single voice 
 only — that of a class-favourite and well-behaved boy, 
 Arthur Welsh, son of Welsh of Collin — shouted out 
 the numeral " Two ! " A momentary pause and pang 
 of distress was followed by a universal shout of laugh- 
 ter, to which Pillans joined his quiet smile, — taking, 
 with great tact, no further notice. From that time 
 his rule was firmly established, and his class did ample 
 justice to both his discipline and his teaching. 
 
 It is strange that I cannot bring to remembrance 
 my place in the class in my first year with the rector. 
 I think it was ninth. In the second year I was third. 
 I do not now clearly understand how I allowed 
 Thomas Pobertson, third boy in our fourth year 
 with Irving, to take precedence of me in our sixth 
 with Pillans. It was in vain to contend with Car- 
 michael for the first place. He was no mere boy, but 
 a youth of seventeen ; and I, a real restless boy of 
 fourteen, could not compete, unless, like him, I had 
 trimmed the midnight lamp, and trenched both upon 
 my sleep and my play. This I could not have done, 
 — and probably would not have been allowed to do. 
 My impression therefore is that, the first place being 
 unattainable, I did not care much for the second. 
 How otherwise was it that I held decidedly the first 
 
LATIN VERSE COMPOSITION. 27 
 
 place, against both Eobertson and Carmichael, in the 
 Greek division ? 
 
 The only thing else I can recall in the line of schol- 
 arship in this my final High School year, is that I 
 must have met with my teacher's approbation in 
 working at a novel exercise which he was the first to 
 introduce into the school, — the composition of Latin 
 verse. For he subsequently printed some lines of mine 
 in a little book which he published, in order to show 
 what he had been able to make his High School class 
 do. As this juvenile performance elicited criticism 
 and commendation from no less an authority than 
 Francis Horner (see Dr Steven's ' History of the High 
 School of Edinburgh,' p. 306), and as Dr Steven, after 
 the publication of his book, obtained a copy of my 
 exercise for me, I may here present it as being the 
 first composition of mine which saw the light. Al- 
 though Pillans gave me no little praise for it, I was 
 not encouraged thereby to cultivate my poetic vein 
 on any future occasion. 
 
 Translation from Pope's Homers " Iliad" Book viii. line 687. 
 
 " As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night, 
 O'er heaven's clear azure spreads her sacred light ; 
 When not a breath disturbs the deep serene, 
 And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene ; 
 Around her throne the vivid planets roll, 
 And stars unnumbered gild the glowing pole, 
 O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed, 
 And tip with silver every mountain's head ; 
 Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise, 
 A flood of glory bursts from all the skies ; 
 
28 ARITHMETIC AND WRITING. 
 
 The conscious swains, rejoicing in the sight, 
 Eye the blue vault, and bless the useful light." 
 
 Ut cum luna silens in opaca nocte refulget, 
 Spargit et in vastum lumina clara polum ; 
 Cum neque perturbat ccelum levis aura serenum, 
 Nee nebula officiens occulit atra jubar ; 
 Cum circa solium volvuntur sidera lapsu, 
 Perque polum nitidum plurima stella micat ; 
 Mittitur in viridem color et jam Savior herbam ; 
 Lux quercus ornat, montis et omne caput, 
 Apparent valles, rupes et in ordine surgunt, 
 E ccelis subito gloria magna ruit. 
 Protenus hoc videt, et visu laetatur agrestis, 
 Ccelum et suspiciens utile lumen amat. 
 
 E. C. 
 " Perituraj parcite chartae." 
 
 Thus came to an end my High School years,— six 
 years spent in learning Latin and Greek, and in 
 gaining a knowledge of embryo men. Arithmetic 
 and writing I was taught at a private school hard 
 by. Arithmetic I took to readily, and mastered with 
 ease ; but I fear I never gave my writing-master satis- 
 faction, though he scolded me well for wasting his 
 paper by my haste, and cramping my pot-hooks by 
 crooking up my fingers on my pen. Nevertheless 
 I acquired facility and distinctness ; and I heartdy 
 wish that the multitudes whose MSS. I have been 
 condemned to decipher in my lifetime had been 
 equally fortunate. 
 
 Was it an error or not in the psedeutics of those 
 times to confine the mental culture of boys between 
 
DEFENCE OF CLASSICAL STUDIES. 29 
 
 eight and fourteen or fifteen to the classical languages 
 and arithmetic ? I think our fathers were right. 
 
 For thirty years past a crusade has been carried on 
 against the ancient classics having a monopoly of 
 school-boy education. George Combe, the phrenolo- 
 gist, did more than any other man in Edinburgh, by 
 his pertinacity at public meetings and in newspaper 
 lucubrations, to bring about a change. He would be 
 much delighted, were he alive now, to find that his 
 desired reform has been carried so far that nowadays 
 there have been added to the five classical masters 
 separate teachers of English, French, German, and 
 Hindustani, Mathematics, Physics, and Engineering, 
 Chemistry, Botany, and Zoology, besides Drawing, 
 Fencing and Gymnastics, — twelve new masters in the 
 High School. 
 
 The purpose of the new system is to inform the 
 minds of boys more variously, and to teach them 
 things thought likely to be more practically useful 
 to most of them than an accurate knowledge of the 
 ancient classical languages, — a desirable object, if it 
 could be attained at such an age, or in such a way. 
 But the proposal to teach boys all these things ignores 
 what we know of the constitution of the human mind 
 in boyhood. 
 
 Between the ages of eight and fifteen the mind has 
 to grow in size and strength as well as the body. The 
 one cannot grasp knowledge, any more than the other 
 can exert muscular power, with the force possessed at 
 a later age. The amount of knowledge acquired, or 
 acquirable, during the six years which constitute a 
 
30 CLASSICAL STUDIES. 
 
 High School life, has been much overrated by late 
 reformers of youthful education. How scanty is it 
 compared with the acquirements of the six years 
 which follow ! 
 
 Therefore, at this time of life, tuition, following 
 nature's indication, should be directed not so anxiously 
 to fill the too youthful mind with knowledge, as to 
 develop and strengthen its powers, — to train and not 
 to cram it. But the mind is not to be trained to accu- 
 racy, endurance, and depth, by the hasty cultivation 
 of a great variety of arts and sciences. That method 
 can teach only superficial thinking. The mind must 
 be exercised with perseverance on a few subjects only, 
 — which must, of course, be well chosen. And what 
 choice can be more apt than the study of the lan- 
 guages and literature of ancient Greece and Rome ? 
 Of all the studies suitable for boyhood, there is no 
 other, so far as I can see, which is so likely to 
 strengthen the memory, attention, imagination, and 
 judgment. There is none so capable of attaining 
 that object, and at the same time so attractive, — 
 or so certain to instil taste, morabty, patriotism, 
 and other virtues, — or so useful for imperceptibly 
 infusing an accurate and ready use of the English 
 language,— or so indispensable as the groundwork for 
 the acquisition of foreign modern tongues. There- 
 fore I say in 1871, up with Latin and Greek for 
 boys, and down with George Combe. Leave other 
 weighty matters till a later age, when greater matur- 
 ity of intellect, and previous classical training, will 
 render other knowledge much more easy of pursuit. 
 
HIGH SCHOOL GAMES. 31 
 
 During the six years ending with my fourteenth, 
 I learned a deal of Latin, Greek, English composition, 
 arithmetic, and writing. But during the next six 
 years I added much to my Latin and Greek, mastered 
 French so as to read it fluently, advanced far in 
 mathematics and several branches of natural philo- 
 sophy, became familiar with logic and ethics as 
 understood in 1815, knew almost all that was then 
 known in chemistry, botany also well, mineralogy 
 and geology also fairly, anatomy and physiology 
 thoroughly, and so much of the practice of physic as 
 enabled me, at the age of twenty, to undertake with 
 some sense of security the duties of Resident Medical 
 Officer in the Eoyal Infirmary. There is evidently 
 no comparison between the acquirements of the two 
 periods, — no doubt therefore of the mind having 
 to attain during the former period that maturity 
 which enables it to grasp so much more during the 
 latter. 
 
 During my High School days I stuck to my lessons 
 pretty well, as may appear from the places which I 
 held in the classes. But I confess I was at least equally 
 faithful to play. Shinty [hockey], clacken, 1 foot- 
 ball, races, leaping, wrestling, tops, peeries [peg- 
 tops], bools [marbles], and papes [cherry - stones], 
 each in its season, had a fair share of my time 
 and attention at school. Saturdays and other holi- 
 days were devoted to country rambles, and summer 
 
 1 A light wooden single-hand hat, with small, round, flat head, used 
 nowadays for a kind of shinty and a game similar to " fives." 
 
32 HIGH SCHOOL GAMES. 
 
 evenings to scampering over Arthur's Seat and its 
 environs. Before I was six years old my father 
 " flitted " to a detached house in the Pleasanee, with 
 a flower-garden behind opening into a large grass 
 park, which was bounded by the then sequestered 
 Dumbiedykes road, and beyond by the steep slope 
 of Salisbury Crags. The constant sight of the long 
 green acclivity, topped by its grand perpendicular 
 cliff, and the habit of scrambling over it, as well as 
 over its somewhat loftier neighbour, Arthur's Seat, bred 
 in me no doubt that love of mountain scenery and 
 mountain exercise which has never left me, and never 
 will, even when an end shall be put to the power of 
 indulging it. On either side of our green park there 
 was nothing but a succession of similar fields. But 
 now, alas ! the whole of that beautiful rural suburb 
 has become a mass of high and densely crowded 
 dwellings for the work-people of the town. 
 
 The games which had been handed down to us 
 unchanged from one generation to another of High 
 School boys, have not been spared by the ruthless 
 tooth of reform, which has for many years been 
 gnawing and altering almost all other things of far 
 higher consequence. Football was then a first-rate 
 game, though there was neither " hacking," nor 
 " mauls," nor " touching down," to put fife and 
 limb in danger. Our races were excellent, though 
 done without flannels, or timing, or handicapping, 
 or a dictionary of flash terms. Tops, peeries, and 
 bools have been banished, and consigned to that 
 
" PAPES." 33 
 
 class of the boyish population which was known, as 
 it is now, to all grammar - schools by the pleasant 
 name of " blackguards " ; and papes have long ago 
 disappeared so utterly, that no High School or Aca- 
 demy boy now knows the meaning of the word. 
 
 " Papes " is local Scotch • — ■ not in Jameson — for 
 cherry-stones. Cherry-trees in my young days were 
 robbed as much for the papes as for the cherries. 
 They were counted by " castles " of four each. The 
 game of papes was played by the players placing each 
 his castle, three papes close together and the fourth 
 resting on the middle of them, in a straight line from 
 a wall ; and, from a distance of ten feet, each boy in 
 turn took a step forward, and tried to hit one of these 
 castles with another pape, the biggest he could get. 
 If he caught his striker as it rebounded from the 
 wall, he could repeat his aim from where he stood ; 
 and if he knocked any of a castle outside of a narrow 
 ring drawn round each, he made a prize of them, and 
 had a right to go on with the game, the losing party 
 replacing what had been thus captured. Many boys 
 acquired great skill, and stored much booty, at this 
 really dexterous, quiet, and unfrolicsome game. The 
 row and the frolic were reserved for the wind-up on 
 the 1st of August, the annual examination-day before 
 the autumn holidays, when the Town Council of the 
 city, robed and halberdiered, walked from the gate to 
 the hall between two dense rows of several hundred 
 schoolboys, showering from all sides handfuls of 
 papes at the processionists, and especially at the 
 
3-i "paping" the TOUTS' council. 
 
 Lord Provost. The winnings of a whole summer 
 were thus spent in a few seconds ; for nobody but 
 "a hen " ever deigned to gather any of the treasure 
 thus densely scattered over the courtyard. Oh the 
 good old times, when such a reception was bestowed 
 as an exceeding great honour ! 
 
35 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 UNIVERSITY GENERAL EDUCATION. 
 
 DUNBAR LESLIE WALKER - ARNOTT JOHN PLAYPAIR — LOUIS 
 
 CAUVIN DEBATING SOCIETIES DANIEL RUTHERFORD- — CHARLES 
 
 HOPE CHEMICAL SOCIETY SYME AND OTHERS " PARAFFIN " 
 
 YOUNG ON PATENTS. 
 
 Let loose from the tight bonds of the High School, 
 I, with very many of my schoolfellows, became 
 Civis Academice Edvnburgensis — a student of " The 
 College of James VI. King of the Scots "—in the end 
 of October 1811. The abrupt cessation of corporal 
 punishment, version " poenas," and the taking of 
 places, had no discoverable effect in impairing either 
 the diligence or the discipline of us boys. Probably 
 the dilution with strangers, many of them several 
 years older than ourselves, contributed something 
 towards this result. But there was obviously also 
 a greater respect for the place, and likewise for the 
 teacher. 
 
 I passed the next four years in attending the 
 classes in the Faculty of Arts — viz., Latin, Greek, 
 Mathematics, Natural Philosophy, Logic, Moral Philo- 
 
36 UNIVERSITY CLASS-HOURS. 
 
 sophy, and Rhetoric. But during the last two years 
 I also attended Botany and Chemistry ; and outside 
 the University I studied French under a great char- 
 acter of the day, Louis Cauvin. Our University work 
 began at eight in the morning, and ended at three in 
 the afternoon. I do not recollect that any of us, 
 either at this time or some years later, when we 
 attended Materia Medica also at eight o'clock, ever 
 complained that this was too early an hour for work to 
 begin, whereas now many growl and arrive much too 
 late, because, forsooth, they must turn out for College 
 at nine ; and my colleagues have often expressed their 
 wonder that I still continue to prefer that extremely 
 early hour for my lectures. It is singular to observe 
 how with the advance of years Life gradually pushes 
 into the dark hours, while nevertheless time seems 
 shorter and shorter for all that has to be done during 
 the bight of day. With class-hours crowded on one 
 another, the University has been deprived of an entire 
 hour for work. Very recently our Law Courts, though 
 business has required them to sit two hours longer than 
 they did thirty years ago, have advanced their hour of 
 meeting from nine to ten. Their hah- would stand 
 on end were High School boys told, as they were in 
 my school-days on the arrival of summer, to appear 
 at seven in the morning, and be dismissed at one 
 o'clock for better enjoyment of the greater sunshine 
 and out-of-door exercise. AYhen I was a young adult, 
 the usual family hour for dinner was four o'clock, and 
 the company hour five ; but gradually the former has 
 been advanced to six and the latter to seven, or. as 
 
EARLY VERSUS LATE DINNERS. 37 
 
 in London, to eight. What is gained by this result 
 of " high civilisation " ? I know not. But I can see 
 what is lost. In summer we lose the charming 
 morning hours, generally the finest of the four-and- 
 twenty ; and we equally lose the beautiful evenings, 
 the most delightful period of the day for open-air 
 recreation. In the winter, the time for social con- 
 verse after dinner is so shortened that it is apt to be 
 spent in formalities ; and public assemblages become 
 gradually circumscribed, so that concerts are cramped, 
 and dramatic entertainments of a high class become 
 an impossibility. One needs to look for the decline 
 of the drama in Britain only to the very late dinner- 
 hours of that class of society which used in my young 
 days to be the main patrons of high dramatic art. 
 What lady nowadays would ever dream, when she 
 gives a dinner-party, of engaging a box at the 
 theatre for those of her guests who might prefer 
 " Coriolanus " or " The School for Scandal " to a long 
 evening of possibly unsuitable conversation ? 
 
 I joined, on entering the University, the second 
 Latin and second Greek classes, the first classes being 
 too junior in progress for the capabilities of a well- 
 trained High School boy of fourteen. The system of 
 teaching pursued at both the Latin and Greek classes 
 was on four days of the week much the same as at 
 the High School. The fifth day was appropriated to 
 lectures, generally on some subject in philology or 
 antiquities, usually interesting and always instruc- 
 tive. In the Latin class my father was rather shy in 
 drawing out his two sons ; and he publicly intimated 
 
38 PROFESSOR DUNBAR. 
 
 that we were not to compete for the annual prizes. 
 I made good additional progress, however, during the 
 two years of my attendance. In Greek I made more, 
 because I had much more to learn. I became fond of 
 it too ; and the professor took pains to foster my 
 liking by bringing me well forward. Professor George 
 Dunbar was never a popular teacher. His voice was 
 harsh, his manner not captivating, his countenance 
 stern, seldom softening into a smile and that evan- 
 escent, even when he complimented a catechumen 
 with " Optime dixisti, domine, — sedeas." But he 
 could do deeds of kindness. He was never otherwise 
 than kind to me as a student, — perhaps on account of 
 the mutual regard always subsisting between him and 
 my father. There must have been good points in a 
 man who attached himself to my father in the bonds 
 of cordial friendship for fifteen years, and until death 
 divided them. It was said of him that he made few 
 Greek scholars. An intimate friend of mine once 
 said to me of himself, that he " took some Greek with 
 him to the College from the High School, but left it 
 all in Dunbar's class-room." I hope that this censure 
 owed its birth rather to its wit than to its truth. At 
 any rate, Dunbar certainly did much towards making 
 me a Greek scholar ; so that I read prose with plea- 
 sure, — that pleasure which arises from feeling that 
 one enters into the elegance, and force, and mind of 
 an author — something very different from that other 
 pleasure which consists merely in mastering the diffi- 
 culties of the language in which he writes. My des- 
 tiny, or destination, however, soon led me to different 
 
PROFESSOR LESLIE. 39 
 
 fields. I had to quit Greek for other and less con- 
 genial pursuits ; and what I knew of it gradually 
 oozed out through neglect — yet not altogether or 
 beyond recall. 
 
 This consummation was hastened in consequence of 
 my affections being taken possession of by the study 
 of mathematics. I had done a little in this direction 
 with a private teacher before joining the University 
 class, then taught by John Leslie, afterwards my 
 colleague as Sir John Leslie, Professor of Natural 
 Philosophy. Leslie was an unsafe teacher for a mere 
 beginner : he presumed too much on the aptitude of 
 the youthful and untrained mind for mathematical 
 reasoning. In arriving at results, his ingenuity had 
 shorthand ways of working, which he was unsuccess- 
 ful in explaining, and could not communicate. More- 
 over, his style was laboured, often affected, sometimes 
 far-fetched, — apt at times to excite the risible instead 
 of the contemplative faculties of the listener. I re- 
 member, among other instances, my fastidiousness 
 being shocked by his winding up the life of Pythag- 
 oras, in an introductory historical lecture, with the 
 information that "thus died this illustrious philoso- 
 pher at the advanced age of the square of nine." But 
 Leslie made mathematicians. Among these, no one 
 in my time gave more promise, and no one gave 
 Leslie greater pleasure, than George Walker-Arnott, 
 my fellow-student, son of an old Kinross-shire family- 
 friend, Mr "Walker-Arnott of Arlary, and ultimately 
 successor to Sir William Hooker in the Chair of Botany 
 in the University of Glasgow. He carried off Leslie's 
 
40 PROFESSOR WALKER-ARNOTT. 
 
 first prize, and I quite a secondary one : indeed I rather 
 think I lost it by a toss-up with an equal competitor. 
 But I was vain enough to think at that time that, if 
 Leslie had limited us to a moderate number of hours, 
 such as four hours of work, I should have beaten 
 Arnott — who was slow, though sure. My restless mus- 
 cular system could not tolerate a very long sitting; 
 while Walker- Arnott could stick to his bench from 
 ten in the morning till nightfall in the end of April, 
 long after every one else had left the competition-room. 
 Limitation of time, the rule now in our Medical- 
 Faculty competitions, is, I think, a fairer system than 
 that which enabled my friend to distance all his 
 mathematical rivals. For several years Walker- 
 Arnott continued, after his University attendance 
 -was over, to cultivate mathematics almost alone ; and 
 he pursued it into its most transcendental regions. 
 But, for reasons I never heard, he paused in this 
 career, and suddenly betook himself to the least 
 kindred of all other sciences, botany. Leslie once 
 spoke to me with great bitterness of this extraordi- 
 nary wheel. "Have you heard," said he, "of this 
 melancholy change that Walker - Arnott has been 
 making ? — a man with so fine an intellect for the 
 mathematics ! — to desert it for botany ! — botany ! — 
 the lowest exercise of the reason of man ! " Long 
 after the deserter had eminently distinguished him- 
 self in the cultivation of botany, when I had occasion 
 to toast his health at a dinner of the " Edinburgh 
 Botanical Club," I told the Club of his early distinc- 
 tion as a mathematician, of which scarcely a member 
 
MY FATHER AS A MATHEMATICIAN. 41 
 
 but myself was aware, and mentioned this amusing 
 sneer as my causa scientice. But Arnott, who by 
 this time had travelled the path of botany into the 
 Glasgow professorship, was simple enough not to dis- 
 cover the compliment, and got exceedingly sulky. 
 
 I scarcely think that my attachment to mathe- 
 matics was the fruit of Leslie's nurture. The true 
 incentive was the example and encouragement of my 
 father. At a late period of life he betook himself 
 ardently to mathematical study, which became ever 
 afterwards his main relaxation from his classical and 
 professional labours. In the course of a few years he 
 made himself known as one of the most profound 
 amateur mathematicians in Scotland. In the course 
 of these studies he became satisfied that mathematics 
 was not taught early enough in youth, and that even 
 a boy of fourteen could be carried far into its recesses. 
 He overrated the capacity of the mind at this early 
 age. But, in illustration of his tenets, he set upon 
 me not long after that very juvenile period, and 
 gradually plunged me deep in his own studies. The 
 upshot was that at eighteen I could fight my way 
 through Newton's ' Principia ' ; and when, after an 
 interlude of six years, my destiny seemed to be 
 chemistry, and I therefore determined to master, if 
 I could, the mathematical physics of the day, I found 
 I could travel faithfully through the first volume of 
 Biot's ' Traite" de Physique.' But, like my Greek, 
 almost all that acquisition has evaporated for want 
 of use. 
 
 Physics I studied next, under John Playfair, with 
 
42 PROFESSOR JOHN PLAYFAIR. 
 
 great pleasure and not without success. Professor 
 Playfair was a charming teacher, — so simple, un- 
 affected, and sincere in manner, so chaste in style, so 
 clear in demonstration. I retain now a more lively 
 admiration of him as a lecturer than of all my other 
 professors, except perhaps James Gregory— an ex- 
 tremely different man indeed, yet with various attri- 
 butes in common with the natural philosopher. In 
 evidence of my diligence as Playfair's student, I solved 
 all his weekly exercises but one ; and he had to confess, 
 when he told us the result of that week's work, that 
 he had inadvertently omitted to furnish us with one 
 of the data essential for solving the question, — add- 
 ing, however, that " nevertheless two gentlemen had 
 solved it, or at least had thought they solved it." 
 
 When Playfair had nothing to demonstrate, he 
 always read his lecture, and read it well. His diction 
 was so graceful, and his delivery so simple, yet earn- 
 est, that he commanded deep attention. Let any 
 one read his ' Illustrations of the Huttonian Theory,' 
 and the cause will be apparent. No one who wit- 
 nessed his facility in demonstration — when, of course, 
 reading was impossible — could have imagined that 
 his reason for reading, when he had not subjects of 
 demonstration to keep him steady, was the fear of 
 speaking without book. But such was the fact. He 
 was said never to have spoken an address or lecture. 
 Hence on a memorable occasion, when, as president of 
 the Astronomical Institution, he had to do duty as 
 chairman of a great public dinner after the laying of 
 the foundation-stone of what is now the Eoyal Edin- 
 
THE ROYAL OBSERVATORY FOUNDATION DINNER. 43 
 
 burgh Observatory, great curiosity was felt by those 
 who knew his weak point, as to how Playfair would 
 acquit himself in a position where reading would be 
 absurd, and speaking would be a necessity. But Play- 
 fair was a match for the occasion. His toasts consisted 
 of short, pithy, finely turned sentiments, which went 
 to the hearts of all, satisfying everybody. His " toast 
 of the day " was this : — 
 
 " Gentlemen, I have now to beg you to fill your 
 glasses for the special toast of this evening. I have 
 to propose to you the prosperity of the edifice, the 
 first stone of which was laid in your presence this 
 forenoon, — the future Observatory of Edinburgh. 
 May it be as stable as the rock on which it is built, 
 and the science to which it is dedicated." 
 
 While the chairman was disposing of his toast in 
 this happy vein, he was vociferously applauded by 
 a guest beside him, the officer commanding the 
 artillery of the district, who was also one of his 
 students. In an evil moment it occurred to those 
 near him to suggest to Colonel Smith that he should 
 propose the chairman's health, — an invitation which 
 he at once accepted. Now the Colonel was a bluff 
 soldier, brought up in campaigns, more accxxstomed 
 to speak to his guns than to a sea of scientific faces 
 all gazing at his own, and moreover, a member of that 
 army which for the second time " swore terribly 
 in Flanders." Accordingly he broke down at the 
 outset, and subsided at once in a startling perora- 
 tion. " Gentlemen," said he, " I have the honour to 
 propose a toast, which I am sure you will all be de- 
 
44 AX " UNCOMMON PROOF OF AFFECTION." 
 
 lighted to drink. This is the health of our most 
 distinguished chairman, Professor Playfair. (Pro- 
 longed applause.) Professor Playfair, gentlemen, is 
 a man — is a man — gentlemen, Professor Playfair — 
 Professor Playfair, gentlemen — I say, gentlemen, 
 Professor Playfair is a man who — a man — Professor 
 Playfair is a man, gentlemen — is a man who — who — 
 
 who — I say again, gentlemen, Professor Playfair 
 
 By God, gentlemen, Professor Playfair is a man to 
 go even to hell with ! " 
 
 A short pause of horror, a universal peal of laugh- 
 ter, and a round of hearty applause, successively 
 followed this unprecedented harangue. Then came 
 a silence of deep curiosity to know how Playfair 
 would take it up. But Playfair had been fairly 
 roused, and was not taken aback. " Gentlemen," he 
 repbed, " I have to thank you very much for your 
 cordial concurrence in the toast which you have paid 
 me the compliment of drinking. But I know not 
 where to find words adequate to express the ac- 
 knowledgments due from me to the gallant Colonel 
 for the very uncommon proof he has given of his 
 regard and affection for me. We have heard of many 
 instances in history of great attachment between 
 friend and friend. But the gallant officer has sur- 
 passed them all. For, in the history of the world, I 
 am not aware of any man, since the days of Pylades 
 and Orestes, having been willing to accompany his 
 friend — to the place which he has mentioned." 
 
 There is an admirable bust of Playfair by Chantrey 
 in the Library Hall of the University. Playfair was 
 
MY PHILOSOPHY CLASSES. 45 
 
 a very little man, but with a massive head, and a 
 countenance rugged, and ill furnished with a nose, 
 but which nevertheless commanded respect. Chan- 
 trey has softened the features, while retaining the 
 exact likeness : the bust is nature kindly expressed. 
 
 During my studies in the Faculty of Arts, my 
 teachers of philosophy were Dr Eitchie for Logic and 
 Metaphysics, and Dr Thomas Brown for Moral Philos- 
 ophy. But neither the one nor the other made me a 
 student of philosophy. In both classes I was inatten- 
 tive, in one of them idle, and I fear sometimes mis- 
 chievous. 
 
 I do not know why I did not work in the class of 
 Logic. Its professor, the Rev. Dr David Eitchie, one 
 of the city clergy, was a tall, big-boned, strong man, 
 with a powerful rough voice, and great energy 
 though little polish in his delivery, more illustrious 
 on the curling-pond than in the professorial chair. 
 I gave in, for our first set exercise, an essay which 
 met with much commendation from him. Never- 
 theless, from that moment I ceased to be diligent, 
 and even did not attend the class quite regularly. 
 Moral Philosophy I attended with regularity under 
 Dr Thomas Brown. But it would probably have 
 astonished his many ardent admirers to be told 
 that he never enchained my attention. The fact 
 was that I never became reconciled to his affected 
 feminine delivery, through which I was unable to 
 discern the excellence which his lovers found in his 
 matter. 
 
 It was not, however, the subjects of logic and moral 
 
46 I DECLINE THE DEGREE OF M.A. 
 
 philosophy which repelled me. By no means. I 
 read at home, with full appreciation and much pleas- 
 ure, often with my father, Smith, Hume, Eeid, and 
 Dugald Stewart, and was really well found in the 
 logic as well as the ethics of the day. Therefore, as 
 both professors were by no means incapable teachers, 
 I am still at a loss to account for the blank results 
 of my attendance. 
 
 My apathy has been all the more incomprehensible, 
 when I call to mind that I took readily, and with 
 pleasure, to the somewhat kindred subject of rhetoric, 
 though taught by a prosy professor, the Bev. Dr 
 Andrew Brown, also a minister of one of the city 
 churches. But Brown took an active interest in his 
 students, was very kindly in his manner to them, 
 and somehow contrived to draw them out. He cer- 
 tainly got me to work hard ; so that I not only 
 carried off a principal prize in the class, but also 
 actually took copious notes of his lectures, which I 
 still possess. The classes of Logic and Ethics were the 
 only ones, during my whole student-life, in which I 
 was unable to take interest. 
 
 Having gone through the full curriculum of study 
 for the degree of Master of Arts, I was entitled by 
 the rides of the University to receive the degree 
 without examination. But that very privilege made 
 the degree no object of ambition to the great mass of 
 the students, and especially to the best class of them. 
 I declined the honour when offered and even pressed 
 upon me ; and it was a common saying among us, 
 that nobody took it but a " dominie." It is very 
 
LOUIS CAUVIN. 47 
 
 different now that no candidate can attain the degree 
 of M.A. except after a severe examination. 
 
 During the period of my studies in Arts, the 
 modern languages — as is the case still — were not 
 the subject of iustruction in the University. Al- 
 though this blank has been often spoken of as a 
 blemish in our University system, I do not see how 
 the modern foreign tongues could be properly made 
 the subject of a professorship, unless in connection 
 with philology, and for students somewhat advanced 
 in the knowledge of them. What I needed, however, 
 was in the first instance a good "rough-rider" ; and 
 for French I found a first-rate one in the most emi- 
 nent teacher of that language in the town, Louis 
 Cauvin — son of a refugee from the French Revolu- 
 tion. In his youth he had been as much in Paris 
 as in this country. Consequently, when he spoke 
 French he seemed a thorough native of France, and 
 when he spoke English no one could have known him 
 to be anything else than a highly educated Scotsman. 
 A man of ability and accomplishment, he moved in 
 literary society. But besides all that, he was a large 
 and successful farmer. His farm was close to Dud- 
 dingston, where the soil and other agricultural con- 
 ditions are more favourable perhaps than in any other 
 district in Scotland. Cauvin, unlike most farmers of 
 his day, kept what he made from his fields ; and thus 
 he amassed a moderate fortune, which, when he died 
 in 1825, was left for endowing a Hospital School for 
 the maintenance and education of the sons of decayed 
 teachers, farmers, and master-printers. In this Hos- 
 
48 LOUIS CAU\"IX. 
 
 pital, "which still subsists close to Dudclingston, 
 twenty-six boys are boarded and trained — with what 
 results I know not. Cauvin spent on five days 
 a-week six hours a-day teaching in town, and the 
 rest of the time in looking after his farm in the coun- 
 try : and he went to and fro on horseback, always at 
 a hard gallop. He was a powerfully made, tallish 
 man, with a rubicund, pimpled face, and dark, restless, 
 fiery eyes, active, energetic, and passionate, but care- 
 ful to control his anger when roused. This seemed 
 not a very safe character to provoke or play tricks 
 on. But he was also eccentric ; and thus his pupils 
 were sometimes enticed to try practical jokes, of 
 which he was the subject. One of my companions 
 had the faculty of producing a loud snap with his 
 ankle-joint by simply bending up the foot and then 
 extending it suddenly. Our choleric master was 
 frequently teased with this mysterious sound, the 
 source of which he could never detect. It saluted his 
 ear, of course, only when his back was turned upon 
 it ; and however quickly he faced about, he was un- 
 able to discover the performer, or the nature of the 
 performance. Once, when he seemed to have been 
 on the watch for his tormentor, so instantaneous 
 was his wheel on hearing the usual report, he fixed 
 his evil eye on innocent me, muttering deliberately 
 and emphatically between his teeth — "Prenez garde, 
 Monsieur Christison ! prenez garde ! " The mistake 
 was so natural, and the incongruity so great between 
 the offence and the offender — who was a quiet, elderly 
 divinity student, of demure aspect and extremely 
 
LOUIS CAUVIN. 49 
 
 mild manners — that I could scarce refrain from con- 
 demning myself by a burst of laughter, in which the 
 whole class were ready to join. On one occasion the 
 school-room chimney would not vent a bit. The 
 whole smoke poured down into the room, and thence 
 into the lobby. The chimney-sweeps were sent for, 
 when down came an old hat, and at once all went 
 right. Cauvin bolted with the hat into his library, 
 picked up an elegantly bound quarto of fine engrav- 
 ings, rushed with the sooty hat in one hand and the 
 handsome volume in the other into his anteroom, filled 
 at the moment with young ladies waiting for the 
 arrival of their school-hour, plumped down the book 
 amidst them, and offered it to any one who should 
 tell him who was "le.poltron qui m'a fait cette in- 
 jure-la, — la — la — la!" pointing to the guilty hat. But 
 this appeal, as well as his other persevering efforts, 
 were to no purpose ; not even any of us pupils ever 
 found out the culprit. During my attendance, he 
 met with the following strange adventure. His horse 
 ■ — a very good one, and a great favourite — was one day 
 stolen from the farm, and for two months there was no 
 trace of him. At last, while Louis Cauvin was look- 
 ing one afternoon into the street at things in general, 
 he beheld the horse standing at his own stair-foot, 
 saddled and bridled, and held by a horsey-looking 
 lad, exactly as if waiting for him. Down-stairs went 
 Cauvin two steps at a time, seized the horse, and 
 collared the lad, who proved to be servant of the 
 owner of the establishment on the floor directly under 
 the school-rooms, one Griffith, a well-known umbrella- 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
50 DEBATING CLUBS. 
 
 maker and respectable Quaker, reputed wealthy. 
 Cauvin had the satisfaction of riding his lost Rosi- 
 nante home, and the Quaker the mortification of 
 losing the price of his incautious purchase. 
 
 Among the accessory means of education at the Uni- 
 versity, Literary Debating Clubs, if a judgment may 
 be founded on their number and variety, were in high 
 fashion during my attendance on the classes in Arts 
 and Medicine from 1811 to 1819. Long the oldest in 
 years and reputation, the Speculative Society was at 
 this period overshadowed for a time by the Literary 
 Society, which arose, culminated, and sank Like a 
 comet, but was long sustained at a high pitch of 
 excellence and attractiveness by the talents and de- 
 bating zeal of the oldest class of the students and 
 many young members of the Church and Bar. In 
 imitation of these shining examples, almost every 
 year the freshmen were but a short time in the 
 L^niversity before they formed their own youth- 
 ful debating club. My companions soon estabbshed 
 the Juvenile Society, on a nucleus of one imported 
 from West Calder, where the Reverend Dr Muckersy 
 had formed it among the youths of his boarding- 
 school academy. Four young Muckersys, and a few 
 more of the West Calder forum, first associated to 
 themselves Dr Tweedie, who afterwards settled in 
 London as physician. Tweedie was the means of my 
 joining; and my entrance was followed by the acces- 
 sion of many of my companions, who soon took a lead 
 in the Society's proceedings. The members differed 
 
THE JUVENILE SOCIETY. 51 
 
 considerably in point of age, which tended to balance 
 the younger ones among us, and prevent our grave 
 debates from degenerating into buffoonery. Never- 
 theless, accident did now and then upset the gravity 
 of the Society's demeanour. In the middle of a keen 
 discussion on the merits and demerits of gunpowder, 
 a member, who had evidently been dining out before 
 the meeting, and who kept himself to the point in a 
 clever speech by maintaining fast hold of the back of 
 the secretary's chair, alternately advanced and with- 
 drew his body, to express his mind better, or perhaps 
 because of his post-prandial condition. Happening, 
 however, to sway back at the moment when the secre- 
 tary slightly rose for a second or two to stretch over 
 his table for a paper, — speaker, secretary, and chair 
 disappeared instantaneously, and were rolling on the 
 floor. There was no longer any sober discussion that 
 evening ; and ever afterwards, when any eager orator 
 approached the back of the secretary's chair, which 
 stood temptingly in the middle of the floor to be 
 thumped by the eloquent, he was apt to be discom- 
 fited by a word of caution and a shout of laughter. 
 
 I never took a prominent part in the Society's 
 business. At that time, and for many years subse- 
 quently, I had a dread of speaking in public unless 
 from a complete manuscript. It was not till I was 
 thirty-five that a sudden emergency divulged to me 
 how easy it was to make a long speech or lecture 
 without any notes at all, if one resolves to do so, and 
 knows his subject well. Of our clever debaters, none 
 had the opportunity afterwards of making a figure 
 
52 ROYAL MEDICAL SOCIETY. 
 
 in the world. Although they went chiefly into the 
 Church or to the Bar, none except my twin-brother 
 lived long enough to test the results of early training ; 
 and he, with many oratorical qualifications, was lost 
 in a purely rural parish and presbytery as a country 
 clergyman. One of our members went as an English 
 barrister to India, where he gave great promise, and 
 soon distinguished himself by bearding the Bombay 
 Bench in some quarrel between the judges and the 
 Bar. William Cleland, however, had fought with too 
 much ferocity. He had consequently to shift his 
 quarters to Calcutta, where he was making rapid 
 strides, when he was cut down in the prime of life 
 by the effects of the climate. 
 
 There can be no doubt of the usefulness of these 
 young men's societies in sharpening the wits, im- 
 parting resource and promptitude, and so training 
 youth for the learned professions. Opinion here is 
 universally in their favour ; and that opinion is borne 
 out by the history of the oldest of the debating 
 societies of Edinburgh, the Royal Medical. That 
 Society has flourished since so long ago as 173"; and 
 of its four presidents, chosen annually in the main 
 for their popularity in debate, very few have failed to 
 distinguish themselves in professional life, either as 
 successful physicians, or in the walks of the medical 
 sciences. But the good done by these societies 
 is, if I mistake not, attended with an inseparable 
 evil. They make some men pragmatical and offen- 
 sively disputatious. I, at least, have known several of 
 the orators and oracles of } T outhful debating clubs 
 
ROYAL BOTANIC GARDEN. 53 
 
 whose acquired glibness of tongue misled them after- 
 wards, and made them, whether in large popular 
 assemblies, or — what is much more intolerable — in 
 small consulting bodies, speechifying, contentious, 
 noisy, troublesome obstructives in the real business 
 of life ; striving more for a factious victory than a 
 good end, and dangerously given to perverting the 
 truth. 
 
 In the course of my Arts curriculum of four years, 
 I did not confine myself entirely to the classes in 
 the Faculty of Arts. I studied also chemistry and 
 botany. 
 
 I began botany in the summer of 1813. It was 
 taught then, as now, entirely at the " Royal Botanic 
 Garden." The garden long occupied a part of the 
 valley between the Old and New Town, which is now 
 covered by the city station of the North British Rail- 
 way Company. One line of houses, on the south 
 side, recalls the purpose to which the spot was origi- 
 nally destined. It still retains the name of " Physic 
 Garden," though there is neither a drug sold nor a 
 single plant grown in it. Long before my time, 
 however, the Botanic Garden had been removed to a 
 more genial site, on the north side of Leith Walk, 
 a little lower down than Gayfield Square. Thence 
 it was promoted to the present admirable site in 
 Inverleith Row. But when I studied botany, Leith 
 Walk had still the honour of enshrining that science. 
 The spot seems to have been affected by a curse ever 
 since the botanical establishment left it. For a hand- 
 
54 PROFESSOR DA^EL RUTHERFORD. 
 
 some crescent behind it, begun many years ago, has 
 now [1871] scarcely a fifth of its houses erected; on the 
 old garden itself, though it has an extensive frontage 
 on the main roadway between Edinburgh and Leith, 
 there are only one or two miserable hovels and pig- 
 sties ; some of the old conservatory walls still stand 
 in a ruinous state ; and I can distinguish here and 
 there, amidst general neglect, a few melancholy, ill- 
 srown trees, which had not been thought worth 
 removal along with their companions fifty years ago. 
 The garden was thought very fine, however, in 1813, 
 and many a pleasant hour have I spent in it. 
 
 The professor was Dr Daniel Eutherford, — better 
 known as an inventive chemist in his early years, 
 and as the discoverer of nitrogen gas, than for any- 
 thing he ever did as a botanist. 1 La 1786, fourteen 
 years after graduating at Eclinburgh, he succeeded 
 Dr John Hope in the botanical chair. Tradition had 
 it in my student -years that he was disappointed at not 
 being made assistant and successor to Black in the 
 chair of chemistry in 1795, when that office was 
 given to Dr Charles Hope ; and he again, son of 
 the botanical predecessor of Eutherford, it was said, 
 would have preferred to step into his own father's 
 University shoes, rather than into those of Dr Black. 
 However that may have been, Hope, the son, highly 
 distinguished himself in his chemical chair ; while 
 
 1 Dr Rutherford was Sir Walter Scott's maternal uncle. " He ought 
 to have had the chemistry class," Scott "mites, on the occasion of his 
 death in 1819, " as he was one of the best chemists in Europe ; but 
 superior interest assigned it to another, who, though a neat experimen- 
 talist, is not to be compared to poor Daniel for originality of genius." 
 
PROFESSOR DANIEL RUTHERFORD. 55 
 
 Rutherford, in that of botany, which he filled for 
 thirty-four years, always seemed to lecture with a 
 grudge, and never contributed a single investigation 
 to the science which he taught. He was a little, 
 sluggish -looking man, who, through the inroads of 
 frequent gout, moved slowly, although not over sixty- 
 three. He had a large, placid face, sunk between 
 his shoulders, heavy eyes, and a great mouth and 
 jaw, in harmony with the credit he got for being 
 fond of the good things of the table. His words 
 seemed to be squeezed out of his chest ; and his accents 
 and manner, unless he happened to be cross, were 
 mild, kindly, and dreamy. His lectures were ex- 
 tremely clear, and full of condensed information ; his 
 style was beautiful, and his pronunciation pure and 
 scarcely Scotch ; and consequently his class — a large 
 one, in spite of the early hour of eight in the morning, 
 and the long distance to the garden — always listened 
 to him attentively, and treated him with respect. He 
 depended very much for his demonstrations in the 
 class-room on his excellent head-gardener, M'Nab, 
 father of the present [1871] very able holder of the 
 same office; and he often subjected his aide-de-camp 
 to rather rough usage by his crossness. I have seen 
 him search his table over and over again for the speci- 
 men of his next topic in vain, and call testily to his 
 assistant, who stood at a respectful distance, — "Mr 
 M'Nab !— Mr M'Nab ! bring me " (it might be) " the 
 Aconitum Napellus : you have forgotten the Aconitum 
 Napellus." Upon which M'Nab would quietly step 
 up to him, lift the plant from under his nose, put 
 
56 THE BOTANY CLASS. 
 
 it into his hand, and step back to his place, with- 
 out a word said or the slightest change of counte- 
 nance. The doctor had a detestation of foul smells, 
 yet was fascinated by an irresistible necessity when 
 an ill-smelling plant came in his way. " Gentlemen," 
 said he one clay, " this is the henbane plant, — the 
 Hyoscyamus niger of Linnaeus. It is known by," &c, 
 &c. " It may be also known by a very peculiar, dis- 
 agreeable odour, — a most offensive odour." Where- 
 upon, raising the nosegay to his nostrils, and whiffing 
 it slightly, he went off in a fit of spasmodic move- 
 ments as if choking, and called out with a cross air, 
 " Take it away, Mr M'Nab ! take it away ! " 
 
 Nevertheless I liked the little Doctor, got very 
 fond of botany, and have often dabbled in it since 
 with pleasure. But it was a great blot in his teach- 
 ing that he gave no encouragement in any way to 
 practical training in the field, which has been steadily 
 and successfully pursued by his successors — Graham 
 and Balfour — for fifty years past. Inability from gout 
 may be the explanation ; for, had he been desirous 
 of carrying on field instruction, his disabled limbs 
 would have prevented him from doing so in person. 
 But why should he not have done that duty by 
 deputy — especially when he had so able a hench- 
 man as M'Nab ? In absence of such an instructor, 
 several of us botanised under our own guidance over 
 hill and dell, rock and river; and many a modest 
 weed became a lovely flower in our eyes under inves- 
 tigation, identification, and display in our herbariums. 
 
 No study interested me more during all my 
 
PROFESSOR CHARLES HOPE. 57 
 
 student-days at the University than that of chem- 
 istry. At this period — 1814 — not long after the 
 discovery of the composition of the alkalies by Davy, 
 chemistry, while it held out a boundless field for 
 inquiry, was already rich alike in grand facts and 
 great principles. Nevertheless it was not yet 
 so extensive and recondite but that an amateur 
 might master it all by attendance on a six-months' 
 course of lectures, and a little private study. Such 
 a course of lectures could be made eminently attrac- 
 tive, and Dr Hope possessed in a high degree the 
 qualifications required. His manner and his diction 
 were, indeed, somewhat pompous. But pomp did not 
 altogether misbecome so magnificent a subject; and 
 such violation of correct taste as might strike a fastidi- 
 ous ear, was more than counterbalanced by uncommon 
 clearness of exposition, and unexampled splendour and 
 success in experimental demonstration. To be visible 
 to a class of 500 students (in 1823 he had 575), his 
 experiments required to be performed on a very large 
 scale — which every one conversant with experimental 
 lectures knows must increase greatly the difficulty of 
 exact manipulation. Nevertheless, when I first at- 
 tended Hope in 1814, there was not a single failure 
 to attain exactly what he announced ; and on repeat- 
 ing my attendance in 1815, he failed once only. 
 
 That failure, indeed, was an egregious one. In 
 order to show the great cold produced by snow 
 melted by nitric acid, he used a large inverted glass 
 bell-jar instead of a strong-footed one, his usual appa- 
 ratus. The powerful cold at once froze the surface 
 
58 FAILURE OF AN EXPERIMENT. 
 
 into a firm spongy cake. Endeavouring to break up 
 this covering with a heavy glass rod, the rod suddenly 
 plunged through the consolidated mass, and through 
 the bottom of the jar also. The acid — now, fortu- 
 nately, diluted acid — overflowed the table, and gushed 
 over the Doctor's then fashionable black stocking- 
 piece tight pantaloons, which instantly, " like lobster 
 boiled, from black to red, began to turn," amidst 
 shouts of student-laughter and a hasty retreat on the 
 part of Dr Hope in quest of ammonia to repair the 
 damage. 
 
 Dr Hope, although he showed in early life skill as 
 an analyst and ingenuity as a discoverer, — as shown 
 in his discovery of strontia, and his inquiry into the 
 temperature of water at its maximum density, — seems 
 to have abruptly and unaccountably deserted the 
 tempting field of chemical research, and devoted his 
 whole professorial life to perfecting his admirable class 
 experiments. Neither did he encourage experimental 
 inquiry among his students. His laboratory was 
 open to no one but his class assistant, Dr Fyfe, 
 afterwards "Professor of Medicine" — that is, of all 
 the medical sciences — in King's College, Aberdeen. 
 There was at that time no opportunity for students 
 to learn chemistry practically, either at the great 
 chemical school of Edinburgh, or, indeed, anj^where 
 else in the United Kingdom. Syrne, my twin-brother 
 and I, Andrew Coventry, Alexander Jackson, Robert 
 Mercer, James Hogg, and five others, therefore formed 
 for the purpose a Chemical Society, which met once 
 a-week in the evening, and performed and demon- 
 
OUR CHEMICAL SOCIETY. 59 
 
 strated such of Dr Hope's experiments as were within 
 our means. We met first in an attic in my father's 
 house in Argyll Square, and afterwards in a large 
 underground room below the shop of one Deuchar, 
 subsequently a lecturer on popular chemistry. At 
 starting we got our chemicals from a druggist oppo- 
 site the present College gate — the successor of a Dr 
 Briggs, who, I remember, used to sell me his nitric 
 acid himself some years before for sixpence an ounce. 
 Briggs became mysteriously Professor of Medicine at 
 St Andrews University, where the only drug sold — 
 by the sole medical professor, sinecurist, and autocrat 
 in all things medical — was the diploma of Doctor of 
 Medicine, for thirty guineas and two certificates of 
 character from medical men. 
 
 I cannot call to mind that our " Chemical Society " 
 set out with a defined object or a settled limit in our 
 experiments. But what it actually did was to repeat 
 such of Dr Hope's class-experiments as struck us by 
 their splendour, or their importance, or their surpris- 
 ing results, and were within the reach of the Society's 
 finances. We neither made nor aimed at discoveries. 
 But we learned aptitude in handling apparatus, re- 
 source in difficulties, and, I may also add, prompti- 
 tude in danger. At least I am sure I did ; for when 
 in later years my chemical fervour broke out at Paris 
 in a determination to master the higher walks of 
 chemical analysis, I experienced at once a familiarity 
 and success in manipulating, which most assuredly I 
 could not have enjoyed without serving my apprentice- 
 ship in the Chemical Society. We had no written 
 
60 A CHEMICAL MISADVENTURE. 
 
 code of laws, like other juvenile associations of the 
 kind. But our rule was, that each member should 
 be experimental demonstrator in turn ; that another 
 should be his assistant ; and that the assistant of one 
 meeting should be principal at the next. It is strange 
 that the events which dwell chiefly in my memory are 
 our failures and escapades. In two of these I was 
 chief actor. One evening, during the time when 
 we met in my father's attic, and it was the turn 
 of Jackson and myself to perform, we proceeded to 
 kindle our "choffer" in preparation for the meeting. 
 The coke not kindling cpiickly enough, Jackson insert- 
 ed a good many sticks to help the combustion, where- 
 upon there arose so profuse a discharge of irritating 
 wood-smoke from the half-kindled sticks, that we were 
 threatened with suffocation. But we did not venture 
 to open the door for ventilation, because there was 
 a dinner-party in the house, which would have been 
 thrown into consternation had the wood-smoke gone 
 down-stairs — as it was sure to do. On the contrary, 
 we locked ourselves in, pulled a chair under the sky- 
 Hght, put a box on the top of it, mounted the box, 
 opened the sky -light window, and stood with our 
 heads and shoulders in the fresh air. At this junc- 
 ture the Chemical Society arrived, and claimed ad- 
 mission by various boisterous measures. Meeting, 
 however, no attention from within, and discerning 
 through a chink in the door that the room was full 
 of smoke, they became alarmed for their president 
 and his assistant. But ere long they received reas- 
 suring information : the atmosphere of the attic was 
 
AN EXPLOSION. 61 
 
 cleared, the performers descended from their perch 
 and admitted the audience ; and the " choffer," by 
 this time having got up a bright glow, got through 
 its part in the performances of the evening. 
 
 The other event was a more startling one. Syme 
 and I had to demonstrate the preparation of sul- 
 phuric ether. Our apparatus was on a pretty large 
 scale, and it depended for its stability on the mutual 
 reliance of the retort and receiver on one another. 
 Following Dr Hope's example, we heated the retort 
 before pouring in the spirit and acid. But having, 
 as I suppose, heated it too much, the materials were 
 no sooner introduced than they began to froth up 
 furiously from the formation of inflammable gases 
 instead of ether; the stopper was blown out of the 
 retort, and the gases and vapour rushed with a 
 loud hiss to the ceiling. Instantly I dreaded the 
 formation of an explosive atmosphere, called upon 
 the Society to adjourn, and shouted to Syme to 
 blow out the candles on his side of the table, whilst 
 I did the same to those on mine. One of Syme's 
 was so near the active volcano, that he hesitated to 
 approach it ; upon which I made a long mouth, and 
 was lucky enough to extinguish it from a distance. 
 In another instant I was under the table — where, 
 however, there was no room for Syme also. The 
 Society not only vanished as advised, but likewise 
 closed the door for their further security, and awaited 
 the issue behind it. The fizzing of the retort got 
 quickly worse and worse, a tug-tug- tugging sound 
 followed, and the apparatus blew up with a crash of 
 
62 SYME A CHEMICAL DISCOVERER. 
 
 falling glass in all directions. A brief interval of 
 silence ensued, and then the Society, cautiously 
 opening the door, inquired if anybody was hurt. 
 Having received a favourable report in reply, Mr 
 Deuchar appeared with a Davy's safety-lamp ; and 
 it was found that the retort had been blown to the 
 farthest corner of the cellar, twenty feet off, where 
 Syme had Heel for protection — bending down with 
 his head well in the corner, and the least vulnerable 
 end of his body presented towards the enemy. The 
 retort had been shivered to pieces against the wall 
 close to his ear. 
 
 Dr Hope, with all his ability as a teacher, made 
 very few chemists, because he never encouraged prac- 
 tical study. I do not know that our Chemical Society 
 was more successful. It did not turn out any original 
 investigator ; but it very nearly made a chemist, 
 instead of a surgeon, of Synie. Before it came to an 
 end by the dispersion of its members, he had begun 
 to work at the subject of the solvents of india-rubber; 
 and his inquiries ended in his discovering its solubibty 
 in the cheap menstruum, coal-tar naphtha, and the 
 waterproofing of cloth by means of this solution. 
 He published his discovery, at a very early age, in 
 vol. xii. p. 112, of Thomson's 'Annals of Philosophy.' 
 1818. Nevertheless he has never got the credit of 
 this discovery. Macintosh, the manufacturing chemist, 
 reaped all the honour as well as the profit. It might 
 have been otherwise had Syme stuck to chemical 
 research, for he showed himself afterwards in a dif- 
 ferent line to be most tenacious of what was truly 
 
PATENT EIGHTS. 63 
 
 due to his inventive mind. But, notwithstanding his 
 early success, he abruptly deserted chemistry — how 
 led, I could never learn — and betook himself ardently 
 to anatomy and surgery, which he never afterwards 
 for a moment forsook as his main pursuit. 
 
 I have often been puzzled to make out the prin- 
 ciple which, in such cases as that of Syme and 
 Macintosh, rules in this country the legal relation- 
 ship between a genius who makes a discovery and a 
 patentee who appropriates it to his own sole pecuniary 
 advantage. Macintosh somehow was allowed to snuff 
 out Syme altogether. But in many other instances 
 the discoverer and the patentee are recognised as 
 distinct from first to last ; and the distinction has 
 often given rise to costly contests about one another's 
 rights. What, then, is the principle upon which a 
 patentee is enabled to create an exclusive right to 
 the profits of another's discovery ? In other words, 
 when a patentee is not the original discoverer, what 
 constitutes a patent ? Judges have often tried to lay 
 down a law which may answer that question, but 
 never so as to satisfy my mind, or so as to prevent 
 afterwards any valuable patent from being disputed. 
 Consequently, one is almost driven to the sore con- 
 clusion that the only sound rule for constituting a 
 patent is that it shall undergo an expensive lawsuit 
 and the favourable verdict of a jury. 
 
 Some years ago, however, I got a glimpse of a fixed 
 principle for governing many cases. Mr James Young 
 — " paraffin-oil Young " — in order to defend, against 
 formidable encroachment, a patent by which he was 
 
64 "paraffin-oil" young on patents. 
 
 rapidly making an enormous fortune, had to engage 
 in the most tedious and expensive lawsuit which has 
 hitherto occupied the minds of Scottish judges. The 
 essence of his patented process was that paraffin and 
 paraffin-oil were prepared from petroleum, coal, and 
 bituminous shale by careful maintenance of the lowest 
 red-heat at which decomposition can be effected, and 
 by the studious avoidance of that slightly higher 
 red-heat at which decomposition gives rise chiefly to 
 naphtha and illuminating gas. Mr Young discovered 
 neither paraffin nor paraffin -oil (another name for 
 eupion) ; nor their production from shale, coal, or 
 petroleum ; nor the temperature at which paraffin and 
 paraffin -oil are formed; nor their utility for giving 
 light. TVhat he did discover, or rather invent, was a 
 series of contrivances for obtaining the two products 
 so economically, that they could compete in cheapness 
 and convenience with other means of illumination. 
 His patent, therefore, always appeared to me to rest 
 on rather narrow ground. One evening, while the 
 action was going on daily, I dined at Professor Lyon 
 Playfair's, with a whole cloud of chemical witnesses 
 on both sides of the suit. After dinner I joined in 
 the drawing-room a knot of them, who were discuss- 
 ing with Young himself the bearings of the patent 
 law on his case. After some time I struck in, and 
 said : " Mr Young, I now for the first time under- 
 stand, from the conversation which has been going 
 on, what constitutes a patent : when a man, for the 
 first time, is making a great heap of money with a 
 new article, that constitutes a patent." There was a 
 
WHAT COXSTITUTES A PATEXT. 65 
 
 general laugh, to which Mr Young added his quiet 
 smile, and replied : " Well, there is a great deal of 
 truth in your definition, only I would word it differ- 
 ently : a patent is constituted when a man first makes 
 a new article marketable." 
 
 This is a plain, intelligible principle. But is it as 
 just as it is plain — as reasonable as it is intelligible ? 
 I do not think it is. It appears to me that in equity, 
 as well as in the interests of science, an original dis- 
 coverer ought to be legally entitled to a certain hold 
 over the fruits of his genius and labour ; that espe- 
 cially his generally rather empty pockets should have 
 a claim to some modest share in the profits accruing 
 from the first successful development of his discovery 
 in the hands of some practical monopolist who is 
 rapidly making a fortune with it. 
 
66 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 UNIVERSITY EARLY MEDICAL STUDIES. 
 
 CHOICE OP PROFESSION MONRO FYFE BARCLAY DUNCAN HOME 
 
 ABERCROMBY GREGORY HAMILTON RUSSELL JAMESON. 
 
 When the opening of the University Session of 
 1815-1816 was close at hand, my father one day 
 signified to me that it was time for me to choose a 
 profession, and shape my future studies for it. I had 
 never thought much on that subject, but at once 
 replied that my own choice would be civil engineer- 
 ing. He said I had chosen well, if he could have 
 placed me as pupil with an engineer of eminence, but 
 that he had no access to such a situation, and did not 
 approve of my entering a mediocre office. He there- 
 fore advised me to think over the question again. I 
 replied that in that case I did not require farther 
 consideration, being ready to betake myself to medi- 
 cine. He gave his approval, and thus, in two minutes 
 at most, was my profession chosen. 
 
 At that time, indeed, as the great French war was 
 only just concluded, engineering was rather a flat pro- 
 
CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 67 
 
 fession in this country. There were few great works 
 going on, and there were not many able engineers. 
 Stevenson of the Bell Eock, and Jardine of the Edin- 
 burgh Water-works, filled up the list of men of note 
 practising in Scotland ; for Telford, although occupied 
 with many important works in the north, had by this 
 time removed his quarters to London. But soon 
 afterwards engineering made a prodigious start ; so 
 that, had I taken to it, as I desired, I should have 
 been ready not long before the demand for trained 
 men exceeded the supply. What if I had stood out 
 for engineering ? 
 
 In November 1815 I matriculated as a medical 
 student, and took my seat well forward in the anatom- 
 ical theatre as a pupil of Alexander Monro, tertius. 
 My earliest recollection of my new existence is of 
 horror at beholding from a short distance, and for the 
 first time in my life, a dead human being, and of an 
 anxious longing for the close of the Doctor's first 
 lecture. I well remember, too, my constant disgust 
 at the odour of the anatomical theatre ; and in- 
 deed I have never, in all my professional clays, got 
 over my repugnance to the emanations, whether 
 anatomical or pathological, of the human " subject." 
 This may have been owing to what has proved a 
 useful endowment in other circumstances — -an acute 
 and discriminating sense of smell. But at any rate 
 the same possession has been a sad annoyance to me 
 in the pursuit of anatomy and pathology — such even 
 as to have often required a strong sense of duty to 
 encounter it. 
 
68 MONRO, TERTIUS. 
 
 Monro was far from being a popular lecturer. In 
 all he did and said his manner betrayed an unim- 
 passioned indifference, as if it were all one to him 
 whether his teaching was acceptable and accepted or 
 not. I have often since feared he must have felt 
 himself somewhat in the forlorn plight of the middle 
 one of the three painters of the French family of 
 Vernet, who complained that he was " dcrase" entre 
 mon pere et mon fils." The three Monros filled 
 the anatomical chair in Edinburgh for 126 continuous 
 years, and the first two of them, as all know, with 
 renown. The third must have felt the fame of his 
 father and grandfather a great load upon him as their 
 successor. And so, indeed, it appeared as if he did. 
 Yet he lacked neither ability nor accomplishments. 
 But apathy in a teacher cannot stir up enthusiasm 
 in the student. A lecturer who seldom shows him- 
 self in his dissecting-room will scarcely be looked up 
 to as an anatomist. A professor careless about dress 
 must lay his account with being made the subject of 
 many a student's joke. It is no wonder that, with 
 such weaknesses, he lost command of his class, which 
 in his latter years became the frequent scene of dis- 
 turbance and uproar. Nevertheless Monro gave a 
 very clear, precise, complete course of lectures on 
 anatomy when I attended him ; and certainly I 
 learned anatomy well under him. 
 
 Andrew Fyfe, his prosector, one of the last in 
 Edinburgh to wear the pig-tail, was my teacher of 
 practical anatomy. Practical students in those days 
 were not numerous, and "subjects" were plentiful. 
 
"private lecturers." 69 
 
 I believe I made fair use of my opportunities ; and 
 the good old Fyfe took care of this, by going every 
 afternoon, attended by all his dissectors, over what 
 each had done with his " part " during the day, and 
 making us demonstrate our work. Duty over, we 
 all gathered round him at the fireside, where he 
 entertained us with anecdotes of the departed medi- 
 cal worthies who had adorned the University or city 
 in his day. Monro himself seldom appeared among 
 us in the dissecting-room. 
 
 I studied anatomy another winter under Dr John 
 Barclay, as was then the universal student -fashion. 
 Extra-academical lecturers may now be counted by 
 the score in Edinburgh. At that time there was 
 but one — Dr Barclay ; 1 but a remarkable one he was. 
 Lecturers, not professors, were not then known by 
 their present sesquipedalian designation. They were 
 simply " private lecturers," until in more recent times 
 an after-dinner incident rendered the title suddenly 
 unendurable. At an annual dinner of the Royal 
 Medical Society, at which Professor Wilson of " Noctes 
 Ambrosianse" celebrity, was a guest, with several 
 others, he was asked, rather late in the evening, and 
 when in one of his unbridled, frisky moods, to pro- 
 pose the health of " the private lecturers on medicine, 
 coupled with that of Dr Henderson " (afterwards Pro- 
 fessor of Pathology) ; to which he assented with a 
 grumble. " Mr Chairman," said he, " I am asked to 
 propose the health of the private lecturers — I know 
 not why ! and of Dr Henderson — I can't tell where- 
 
 1 See ante, p. 6. 
 
70 DR JOHX BARCLAY. 
 
 fore ! Sir ! because I see across the table a tall 
 gentleman, with a very long nose, and I am told he 
 belongs to the private lecturers, must I on these 
 accounts propose that we shall all drink his health ? 
 Private lecturers ! — very private — nobody goes to 
 hear them," &c. Henderson was weak enough to take 
 the quiz very sorely, and Wilson was the cause of all 
 such lecturers becoming " extra-academical " instead 
 of " private." 
 
 But John Barclay was no private lecturer in the 
 AYilsonian sense. He was a little, strong, finely 
 made man, with a large round head, bright eyes, 
 humorous mouth, and an intelligent, speaking ex- 
 pression, even in repose. His whole life and soul 
 were in his profession, and with his students. He 
 delighted to spend the whole day in his museum, 
 dissecting-rooms, or lecture -hall, working with his 
 pupils and assistants as diligently as the best of 
 them. As a lecturer, he was all fire and zeal, and 
 intent that his students should learn. His lectures 
 were lightened by historical interludes, little strokes 
 of humour too, and sometimes a witty anecdote. 
 Barclay, indeed, was one of the wits of Edinburgh, 
 of whom it is surprising to me that, among his many 
 intimate friends and favourite pupils, no one has 
 found it to be a labour of love to preserve his " Bar- 
 clayana." Take this one, for example, introducing his 
 demonstration of the sphenoidal bone, — a bone which 
 every beginner finds complex and hard to master, 
 and which, therefore, one makes it a point to possess, 
 by fair means or foul, complete in all its numerous 
 
HIS HUMOUR. 71 
 
 holes and processes. " Gentlemen, I now hold in my 
 hand the sphenoidal bone. This bone is a compli- 
 cated one, and will need all your attention. The early 
 modern anatomists called it alee vespertilionis — bat's 
 wings. I was long at a loss to discover why, because 
 you see it has little resemblance to a bat." (Begging 
 the Doctor's pardon, it has such a resemblance ; but he 
 denied it for the sake, I presume, of getting in his joke.) 
 " At last when my students became too numerous for 
 my former class-room, so that I was obliged to divide 
 them, and to repeat my lecture in the evening, and 
 being then in the custom of passing my specimens 
 round for each to examine for himself, I found, when 
 I sent the sphenoidal bone round my evening class, 
 that it always disappeared before morning." Or this : 
 " Gentlemen, while carrying on your work in the dis- 
 secting-room, beware of making anatomical discoveries ; 
 and above all, beware of rushing with them into print. 
 Our precursors have left us little to discover. You 
 may perhaps fall in with a trifling supernumerary 
 muscle or tendon, a slight deviation or extra branch- 
 let of an artery, or perhaps a minute stray twig of a 
 nerve, — that will be all. But beware ! Publish the 
 fact, and, ten chances to one, you will have it shown 
 that you have been forestalled long ago. Anatomy 
 may be likened to a harvest-field. First come the 
 reapers, who, entering upon untrodden ground, cut 
 down great store of corn from all sides of them. 
 These are the early anatomists of modern Europe, 
 such as Vesalius, Fabricius, Fallopius, Malpighi, and 
 Harvey. Then come the gleaners, who gather up 
 
72 GREVILLE THE BOTANIST. 
 
 ears enough from the bare ridges to make a few 
 loaves of bread. Such were the anatomists of last 
 century, — Valsalva, Cotunnius, Haller, Winslow, Vicq 
 d'Azyr, Camper, Hunter, and the two Monros. Last 
 of all come the geese, who still contrive to pick up 
 a few grains scattered here and there among the 
 stubble, and waddle home in the evening, poor 
 things, cackling with joy because of their success. 
 Gentlemen, — we are the geese." 
 
 The late botanist Greville was a favourite pupil, 
 and also, from being older than his comrades, a great 
 friend of Barclay. One day he was much elated by 
 the addition he had made in his last botanical ramble 
 of a rare species to the flora of the Edinburgh dis- 
 trict. " Is it a beauty ? " inquired Barclay. " I cannot 
 say so. It is a small, rather inconspicuous plant, 
 with a greyish-green flower ; but it is rare, and not 
 easy to find." " It appears to me," rejoined Barclay, 
 " that the great merit of a botanical discovery is its 
 difficulty." " I cannot altogether deny it, Doctor. 
 Difficulty gives zest to the search, no doubt." "Well, 
 then, Mr Greville, when I was a little boy, and was 
 sent one day across the moor with two sixpences to 
 buy my mother some worsted thread, I sat down by 
 the way, and taking out the two sixpences to play 
 with, I let them drop among the heather. I re- 
 covered one, but not the other, and had to leave it, 
 crying bitterly over its loss all the way home. I 
 recommend you to go and look for it. I am confident 
 it is there still ; and it will be hard enough to find." 
 
 Barclay was the same bright, humorous man in 
 
PROFESSOR MYLNE. 73 
 
 general society, of which he was the life wherever he 
 went. He was member of an " Argyll Square Club," 
 consisting chiefly of literary men, of whom my father 
 was one. The club met in succession at one another's 
 houses, where a paper was read by the entertainer of 
 the evening ; and afterwards, at the supper- table, the 
 members were joined by their ladies, and sometimes by 
 a visitor also. In 1819, during the stormy " Radical " 
 times, — when Eeform, first rearing again her head 
 after the French Revolution, was called sedition, and 
 Manchester, Glasgow, and other manufacturing towns, 
 believed to be at the brink of insurrection, were 
 occupied by powerful bodies of military, — Professor 
 Mylne, professor of Moral Philosophy in the Univer- 
 sity, delivered a discourse there which was thought 
 to sail much too near the wind for the time, the 
 juncture, and the place. Many wise folk here and 
 in Glasgow shook their heads over it, and Crown 
 counsel were said to meditate an indictment. But the 
 storm blew past, and Mylne escaped unscathed. While 
 it blew loudest, Mr Clee;horn, a Glasgow relative of 
 Mylne, happened to be a visitor of the club, when it 
 met at Barclay's house. During a pause in general 
 conversation, he asked Barclay what was thought in 
 Edinburgh of " the infamous charge of sedition that 
 had been made in Glasgow against our friend Pro- 
 fessor Mylne " ? It was a rash question for a Whig 
 to put at that precise period at a party composed of 
 Tories ; and naturally there was much curiosity as 
 to the reply of Barclay, who was fairly driven into 
 a corner by the querist. But Barclay was just the 
 
7-4 Barclay's museum. 
 
 man for the emergency. Without hesitation he at 
 once said : " Mr Cleghorn, when the Olynthians sent 
 ambassadors to Philip, King of Macedonia, complain- 
 ing that his subjects were in the habit of calling the 
 Olynthians bars, thieves, robbers, assassins, and what 
 not, Phibp replied to the ambassadors : ' Olyn- 
 thians ! never heed my Macedonians. They are a 
 pack of fools. They will always be calling things by 
 then- right names.' " 
 
 Barclay, when I attended his lectures, had collected 
 a considerable museum of human and comparative 
 anatomy, now part of the Museum of the College of 
 Surgeons of Edinburgh. Among other objects, he had 
 a good collection of skeletons, at the head of which 
 stood an elephant, the gift of the late Sir George 
 Ballingall, one of his former assistants. With these 
 apphances, Barclay undertook a summer course of 
 lectures on Comparative Anatomy, which I attended. 
 But instead of turning to account his collection of 
 skeletons, the Doctor, whose favourite branch was the 
 muscular, descanted during almost the whole summer 
 on the muscles of a donkey, which became a great 
 deal too much of a nosegay in the dog-days before he 
 was done with it. He repeated his lectures the next 
 summer only. But his enterprise suggested to his 
 numerous friends that it might be well to attempt 
 the foundation by the Town Council of a professor- 
 ship of Comparative Anatomy for him in the Univer- 
 sity. The project was supported by some members 
 of the Senatus Academicus, but was vehemently 
 opposed by others, especially Hope, Jameson, and 
 
DR ANDREW DUNCAN, SENIOR. 7/5 
 
 Monro, — by the last two because each claimed Com- 
 parative Anatomy as belonging to his chair, although 
 neither had ever taught it. This contest was made 
 the subject of a clever caricature by the famous Kay. 
 Barclay, bestriding the neck of his skeleton elephant, 
 is clearing by force the College gate, encouraged, or 
 resisted, by various professors. Jameson confronts 
 him with the objection — " Bar-clay ? There is no such 
 clay in the nomenclature of Werner ; " and Hope is 
 in the act of falling, from the breaking of a rope with 
 which he is holding back the elephant by the fore-leg, 
 while above him is the intimation — 
 
 " Hope is lost, the rope gives way, 
 And Muscular Motion gains the day." 
 
 The elephant did not get through the College gate, 
 however ; nor is there even yet a professorship of 
 Comparative Anatomy in the University. 
 
 Becoming infirm in his old age, Barclay took for 
 a colleague the notorious Dr Robert Knox, — a 
 man, like himself, of great talent, but in point of 
 worthiness of character his opposite in many essen- 
 tial respects. 
 
 I had now studied Botany, Chemistry, and Anat- 
 omy. In order to become a candidate for my degree, 
 there were required besides in those days only the 
 Theory of Physic, Materia Medica, Practice of Physic, 
 and Clinical Medicine. 
 
 The Theory of Physic, or Institutes of Medicine, 
 was then taught by Dr Andrew Duncan, senior — an 
 aged, most amiable, benevolent, but by this time 
 rather feeble-minded man. He chose in his lectures 
 
76 DR JAMES HOME. 
 
 stare super vias antiquas, and, "by some devilish 
 cantrip slight," contrived to make it appear as if the 
 physiology, pathology, and therapeutics of Gaubius 
 and the previous century were the physiology, path- 
 ology, and therapeutics of the present day, and the 
 existing doctrines those of the historical past. Little, 
 therefore, was to be learned from him. But he was 
 so kindly and warm-hearted a man in manner, had 
 done so much practical good in his day, and was so 
 attentive to his students, whom he invited in suc- 
 cession once every week to a dull enough tea-and- 
 talk party, that he was universally respected, and 
 respectfully listened to. 
 
 Three years after my attendance the chair was 
 rendered more efficient by the appointment of Dr 
 Duncan's son in 1819, and afterwards of Dr Alison 
 in 1821, as conjunct professor and successor. But 
 the old man did much of the duty, and stuck to the 
 professorial flag till the year 1828, when he died in 
 his eighty-sixth year. 
 
 In Materia Medica my instructor was Dr James 
 Home. Dr Home was then popular as a lecturer, with 
 a class-room so crowded every morning in the dark 
 winter season, that notwithstanding his early hour 
 of 8 A.M., some twenty students had to stand. Such 
 testimony may surprise those who know that, when 
 translated in 1821 to the Chair of the Practice of 
 Physic, he failed from the first as a lecturer, and 
 lost eventually all hold on the attention of his 
 students — his class-room becoming a scene of neg- 
 ligence, disrespect, noise, and utter confusion, for 
 
CONTEST BETWEEN HOME AND THOMSON. 77 
 
 a few years before his death in 1842. But in his 
 first chair, although the lectures were not enlightened 
 by well-defined general principles, or illustrated as 
 now by experiment and demonstration, or enlivened 
 by any of the flowers of oratory — they were a mine 
 of useful facts, laboriously collected, sifted with care, 
 and well put together. His delivery was quiet, but 
 earnest ; and his whole soul was evidently in his duty. 
 Moreover, he gave much of his time to examining at 
 an extra hour such of the students as were willing to 
 undergo the trial — a voluntary task, which at that 
 time few professors undertook. The students, there- 
 fore, could not fail to see that their professor was 
 devoted to their interests ; and this, I imagine, is a 
 main element in the success of a teacher. 
 
 It was a great mistake, however, in Dr Home to 
 change his professorship at the age of sixty-three. It 
 was a double error to take the place of so consum- 
 mate a professor and so eminent a physician as Dr 
 Gregory. But if it was a mistake on Dr Home's part 
 to desire translation to the Chair of the Practice of 
 Physic, it was a greater one for the patrons of the 
 University, the Town Council of the city, to translate 
 him. A keen, bitter struggle arose for the vacant 
 professorship. Dr Home's recommendation was his 
 popularity and success as professor of a kindred sub- 
 ject ; that of his chief rival, Dr John Thomson, was 
 deserved celebrity as a man of general professional 
 talent, together with more credit as a teacher than 
 his subsequent performance as Professor of Pathology 
 showed that he was entitled to. There was a third 
 
78 GREGORY. 
 
 candidate in the field, however, of superior merit to 
 both. Dr Abercrombie had recently exchanged an 
 overwhelming general practice for that of a con- 
 sulting physician, in which he quickly reached the 
 first rank ; and he had already given public and 
 pregnant proof by his writings of high ability as a 
 pathological inquirer. But he had not a vestige of 
 a chance with such patrons as our Town Council, who 
 at this time held the patronage of more than half the 
 chairs in the University. Eising fame and high 
 promise Avere qualifications which could not move, or 
 even reach, men in their position. Politics, when 
 admissible into an election, always ruled it. No 
 duty was so attractive to them as a political fight ; 
 and there was a choice opportunity in the ap- 
 pointment of the new Professor of the Practice of 
 Physic, because Home was a pure, though gentle and 
 unobtrusive Tory, while Thomson was a combative, 
 prominent Whig, and at one time somewhat more 
 than a Whig. The Tory candidate won the day. 
 But he parted with his popularity in the University, 
 and did not attain the success as a physician in the 
 city, which he expected to acquire by translation. 
 
 It was, indeed, a hazardous undertaking to fill the 
 chair of Dr Gregory. For although well advanced in 
 years, he was cut off in the full possession of his facul- 
 ties, and of his fame as a lecturer of the highest order. 
 His features, excellently preserved in the bust by the 
 sculptor Joseph — his expression, voice, and manner, — 
 all betokened the vivacity, self-reliance, boldness, and 
 determination of a powerful intellect. Equally in 
 
GREGORIAN PHYSIC. 79 
 
 fluency as in choice of language, lie surpassed all lec- 
 turers I had ever heard before. His doctrines were 
 set forth with great clearness and simplicity, in the 
 form of a commentary on Cullen's ' First Lines of the 
 Practice of Physic' His measures for the cure of dis- 
 ease were sharp and incisive. In acute diseases there 
 was no medecine expectante for Gregory. He some- 
 how left us with the impression that we were to be 
 masters over nature in all such diseases — that they 
 must of necessity give way before the physician who is 
 early enough and bold enough in encountering them. 
 With such a union of attributes, precept and precep- 
 tor could scarcely fail to captivate a youthful audience. 
 
 The consequence was that Gregorian Physic — free 
 blood-letting, the cold affusion, brisk purging, fre- 
 quent blisters, the nauseating action of tartar-emetic 
 — came to rule medical practice for many years, in 
 all quarters throughout the British Islands and the 
 Colonies. For Edinburgh had long been the only 
 medical school of fame and resort in the British em- 
 pire, whither students flocked from its most distant 
 regions ; and Gregory, who greatly maintained the 
 celebrity acquired by it as a school of physic in the 
 time of Cullen, had taught the Chair of the Theory of 
 Physic for fourteen years, and that of the Practice of 
 Physic for twenty-seven years more ; so that, in the 
 result, England and Ireland, as well as Scotland, to- 
 gether with our colonial dependencies, were overrun 
 by his disciples and his doctrines. 
 
 When Gregory walked he carried a stout cane, 
 which never touched the ground, but was held over 
 
80 Gregory's lectures. 
 
 the shoulder, or " at the trail," as if ready for action, 
 and significant of combativeness. At the commence- 
 ment of his course he bowed, hat in hand, and his 
 first salutation was an apology, and request that he 
 should be allowed to wear his hat, which daily after- 
 wards formed an integrant part of the lecturer. His 
 peroration was not less unusual than his exordium. 
 He never got through more than two-thirds of his 
 full subject, varying the omitted portion on alternate 
 years, but treating always of fevers and inflamma- 
 tions — his favourite topics. When I attended his 
 class, he had, in the last day of the session, got so far 
 as the pathology of paralysis, when, in the middle of 
 a sentence, the College bell was rung at ten o'clock. 
 The whole students at once sprang to their feet, 
 according to custom, to rush to the Chemistry class. 
 Gregory stood up too, raised his arm, and called out, 
 " Stop ! stop, gentlemen ! Stop ! stop ! — one word at 
 parting ! " But no one stopping, he shouted, " "Well, 
 well ! God bless you all ! " Such was his farewell to 
 his class of 1817. 
 
 When in his previous chair, he wrote his ' Con- 
 spectus Medicina? Theoreticse ' — a model for perspicu- 
 ity, exactness, completeness for the time, and classical 
 elegance. It was for a long time a standard work for 
 examination in Latinity at the various medical ex- 
 amining boards of the kingdom, and was adopted as 
 a text-book even at some German universities. Its 
 extraordinary success, however, did not tempt him to 
 any new effort of author-craft in his second chair. At 
 least I cannot so designate his great quartos of con- 
 
GREGORY IN ADVANCE OF HIS TIME. 8 1 
 
 troversy about infirmary management, — very clever, 
 no doubt, but biting, personal, and surely a misappli- 
 cation of the genius of Gregory, unworthy of his 
 social as well as professional position, withdrawing 
 him from fitter and nobler pursuits, and involving 
 him in deadly, lifelong feud with many estimable 
 brethren, both in and beyond the University. 
 
 From careful notes I took of his lectures, I see he 
 was in advance of his time, and had anticipated sundry 
 pathological and therapeutic principles, which in the 
 present day are claimed as the discovery of "Young 
 Physic." In treating of blood-letting in fever, which 
 was about to break out as a mania with our profes- 
 sion, he briefly but emphatically cautioned us that 
 it does not answer at all in some types of epidemic 
 fever. While advocating a low diet and other anti- 
 phlogistic remedies in the treatment of pulmonary 
 consumption at its commencement, he allowed that 
 there were cases which required to be treated in the 
 opposite way ; and he urged that, at a more advanced 
 stage, a hberal dietary, comprising animal food, was 
 the advisable remedy. In his notice of acute rheu- 
 matism, he condemned the common notion of his day, 
 that it was not a disease attended with danger, and 
 went far towards laying down the subsequent discovery 
 that it was apt to develop inflammation of the heart. 
 I could quote other similar proofs of his acuteness as 
 an observer. But perhaps enough has been said on 
 that head ; and I may give a better idea of the in- 
 terest and elegance of his instructions, by mentioning 
 one of those anecdotal references with which all suc- 
 
 VOL. I. f 
 
82 INFLUENZA. 
 
 cessful lecturers like him are in the habit of occasion- 
 ally lighting up the more severe parts of their dis- 
 courses. The anecdote relates to the course followed 
 by " influenza," or, as he termed it nosologically, 
 " contagious catarrh." 
 
 "Contagious catarrh has been known to prevail over all 
 Europe, a great part of Asia and Africa, and even over 
 America, in the course of the same contagion. There is 
 no disease perhaps which has travelled with such rapidity, 
 or spread so universally. The time when I first became 
 acquainted with it was in 1775. In the autumn of that 
 year I met with it when I was in Italy. "When on my way 
 home I saw it in Genoa, the south of France, the north of 
 France, in London, and, last of all, in Edinburgh. Several of 
 my acquaintances had it in Italy ; but I escaped it, both there 
 and elsewhere, till I came to Edinburgh, and there I caught 
 the contagion. In that year it was fatal to many people, 
 especially the old and infirm. It was heard no more of for 
 several years. In 1782 it appeared in this country again, 
 and was traced distinctly as having come from Eussia. It 
 broke out in summer, spread southwards, and soon travelled 
 anew over the whole of Europe. The disease of 1775 came 
 decidedly from the south of Europe, and had been traced 
 back from Sicily to the African shore of the Mediterranean. 
 It appears to have broken out somewhere on the north and west 
 coast of Africa, whence it spread not only north into Europe, 
 but likewise eastward to Arabia, Egypt, Syria, Palestine, Asia 
 Minor, Persia, Hindostan, China, and was ascertained to 
 have spread over the whole immense empire of the Chinese. 
 From China it returned westward by a northern route 
 through the extensive dominions of Eussia, and from that 
 country it was sent again over Europe in 1782. The epi- 
 demics of both years were probably, therefore, the same. 
 
 " It was at its second appearance, in 1782, that it came 
 to prevail most, and to attract much of the attention of 
 the medical world. During that vear it seems that no less 
 
BRITISH AND DUTCH FLEETS MORS BE COMBAT. 83 
 
 than three-fourths of the inhabitants of Great Britain were 
 attacked by it ; and in many large families not a soul escaped 
 it. Of an extensive family, where I stayed when I had it, 
 the only one who was not seized with it was an old drunken 
 cook-maid. I had occasion to visit an Excise-cutter, where, 
 out of a crew of forty-five men, only one escaped. In 
 some of the great houses of London, scarcely one of a numer- 
 ous household was left able to make barley-water or water- 
 gruel for the rest of the family. But the most remarkable 
 instance I have heard of its rapid progress occurred in our 
 fleet, which was watching the Dutch ships in the Texel. I 
 received the whole account from the lieutenant of a 64-gun 
 ship, which was one of the British fleet. The whole fleet 
 was in excellent health and spirits, when a cutter arrived 
 from the Admiralty, and the signal was given for an officer 
 from each ship. An officer was accordingly sent, with a 
 boat's crew, from every vessel, and returned with orders, 
 carrying with them also, however, the influenza. In the 
 lieutenant's ship, whose crew consisted of 525 men, he 
 was one of two who alone escaped it, and the other ships 
 scarcely fared better. Very early one morning the look-out 
 frigates gave the signal for a fleet in sight. The seamen 
 immediately sprang to quarters with alacrity, and the fleet 
 was cleared for action, for the Dutchmen were as numerous 
 and as strong as they, and would naturally seize the favour- 
 able opportunity when their antagonists were scarcely able to 
 oppose them. This state of courage and activity continued 
 for a short while. But the men soon began to drop down 
 beside their guns, completely exhausted ; and the officers, 
 themselves hardly able to stand, found, on making their 
 rounds, the seamen lying extended on the deck, with their 
 heads resting on the guns which they had to defend. As the 
 clay dawned, the supposed enemy drew near, and was dis- 
 covered to be an innocent fleet of British merchantmen under 
 convoy from the Baltic. Although the helpless state of the 
 British fleet was well known in Holland, no attempt was 
 made to molest them, and for a very good reason, for the 
 Dutchmen were in no better plight themselves. The state of 
 
84 "WALKING" THE 1NFIRMARV. 
 
 feebleness brought on by that epidemic was most extraordin- 
 ary, and frequently formed the first symptom of its invasion. 
 Many a stout young soldier, when he went to parade in 
 complete health, dropped down suddenly in the ranks in a 
 state of perfect exhaustion. The epidemic raged most vio- 
 lently in July, the season of haymaking ; and I have been 
 told of the haymakers attempting to struggle with their sense 
 of fatigue, but being obliged in a few minutes to lay down 
 their scythes and stretch themselves on the field." 
 
 Instructed in the practice of physic, I proceeded 
 to clinical medicine, having previously "walked" the 
 surgical wards of the Infirmary for a twelvemonth. 
 During the period of my studies clinical medicine was 
 taught in rotation by Dr Duncan, senior, Dr Home, 
 and Dr Rutherford. I did not attend Dr Duncan's 
 course ; but, like other students, I dropped in occasion- 
 ally, during my first hospital year, at his clinical visit, 
 after the surgeons had finished theirs. It so happened 
 that several times in succession I found the old Doctor 
 in the act of proceeding to the same bed, that of one 
 Christian Jack, plainly a familiar holdfast, long past 
 yielding any new clinical instruction. At that time 
 the clinical professors informed the students of the 
 daily progress of each patient b) r giving out at the 
 bedside a report so leisurely that it could be written 
 in a case-book. The regular unvarying tale with 
 Christian was this. In the act of quitting the pre- 
 vious bed, the Doctor called out her name, and then, 
 stooping down beside her, interchanged with her a few 
 mumbling sentences, in an exceeding sorrowful tone on 
 her part — next stood up, and gave out : " Christian 
 Jack. — As yesterday. — Continuentur medicamenta." 
 
DR JAMES HAMILTON. 85 
 
 I soon tired of Christian, her stagnant state and 
 her unvarying physic. But I subsequently attended 
 the clinics of Home and Rutherford diligently. It is 
 strange, however, that the only special recollection I 
 retain of the clinical ministrations of either professor 
 is, that Home was fond of the cold affusion in fever 
 and scarlatina, and taught us to pay great attention 
 to thermometric observations in simple and eruptive 
 fevers ; and that Rutherford, as he was always apt to 
 suspect the girls in his female ward of shamming, 
 used to dose them with a few drops of asafcetida tinc- 
 ture every hour, until they announced themselves to 
 be well enough to be discharged, although not seldom 
 they were really ill. But I must have picked up 
 a great deal of practical knowledge from my two 
 teachers, especially from Home, otherwise I should 
 not have been so familiar with disease, and so self- 
 reliant, as I felt myself to be when I suddenly 
 became resident physician's clerk towards the close 
 of 1817. 
 
 Besides the foregoing imperative studies for grad- 
 uation, I attended Midwifery, Clinical Surgery, and 
 Natural History. 
 
 The Chair of Midwifery was filled by Dr James 
 Hamilton, son and successor of Dr Alexander Hamil- 
 ton. Dr James was a little man, frail-looking, but 
 strong, uncommonly fair, not at all comely, and un- 
 deniably wigged. He had a quick, short, nervous 
 step, and a slight stoop and downward look, as if his 
 eyes took account always of what his feet were doing. 
 His voice was harsh, and his intonation Scotch, pure 
 
86 QUARREL BETWEEN GREGORY AND HAMILTON. 
 
 and unsophisticated. Nevertheless he was a man of 
 great energy and alertness, and a powerful lecturer. 
 His delivery, though plain, was forcible and easy ; 
 and his information was inexhaustible, drawn as it 
 was from stores of vast experience, as long the 
 acknowledged head of obstetrics in Scotland. His 
 personal means for teaching were in fact so un- 
 bounded, that he had scarcely to seek for resources in 
 any other treasury but his own. Nor did he — unless 
 to criticise. As a critic he seemed to be in his 
 favourite element ; and a snarling, unfair, unfeeling 
 critic he was. For Dr Hamilton was always in the 
 right — dissentients ever in the wrong ; so wrong, 
 too, that no terms were to be kept with them. His 
 language was apt to be unmeasured. Whence quar- 
 rels arose — personal quarrels — one particularly with 
 Dr Gregory, which was wound up by that formidable 
 belligerent with "the cane," — not thereby ended, 
 however; for the law was called in as thirdsnian. 
 and inflicted a fine of £100 (I think), which the cul- 
 prit, in paying, offered to double, it was said, for 
 another opportunity. 
 
 Dr Hamilton delivered a three-months' course of 
 lectures thrice annually, and maintained, with the 
 help of friends, the " Lying-in Hospital " as a school 
 for practical instruction. He was therefore a zealous 
 professor, and his zeal met with its reward ; for, 
 although midwifery was not one of the subjects 
 attendance on which by lectures was required for 
 graduation, his courses of instruction were followed 
 by crowds of students, who prized them highly for 
 
HAMILTON S IMPARTIALITY. 87 
 
 the information they conveyed, and not less, I fear, 
 for the criticism and pugnacity with which his infor- 
 mation was spiced. I doubt, however, whether they 
 carried away with them the respect with which they 
 were inspired for Hope, Jameson, and Gregory. I was 
 one of Hamilton's attentive students so long as I had 
 only to listen to lectures ; but a very brief experi- 
 ence of the Lying-in Hospital thoroughly disgusted 
 me with midwifery. 
 
 In spite of Dr Hamilton's intolerance for the 
 opinions of others, he could be impartial sometimes 
 when his precepts were set at nought, showing that 
 he had a kind heart under his love of quarrel. Of 
 this I had the following memorable example. A 
 candidate for graduation, under examination by him 
 and myself, when I became his colleague, was ques- 
 tioned copiously on the Doctor's favourite rules of 
 obstetric practice, but answered almost invariably 
 sens dessus dessous. Proceeding to consult to- 
 gether as to the young man's fate, the Doctor said 
 to me — 
 
 " Well, what do you say to that man's mid- 
 wifery ? " 
 
 " Very sad indeed, Doctor ! " 
 
 " Well, but see, — our schedule shows that he got 
 
 his midwifery from Dr of Dublin — which I knew 
 
 very well by his answers. He has answered me ac- 
 cording to the nonsense he has been taught. I can- 
 not punish him for remembering his lessons. But as 
 to trusting him to deliver a woman, I would not trust 
 him with the delivery of a cat." 
 
88 PROFESSOR RUSSELL. 
 
 Many quidnuncs raise a clamour about teachers 
 examining their own students as candidates for 
 graduation. Do such people, when similarly placed 
 with Dr Hamilton, show the same singular union of 
 intolerance for the teacher and contempt for the doc- 
 trine with tenderness for the taught ? I fear not. 
 It is strange they do not see that a candidate is 
 entitled to be examined as he has been taught ; and 
 therefore that the fairest examining board must be a 
 board of his teachers — with others, if they choose, 
 to see justice done, and partiality excluded. 
 
 Clinical Surgery was taught in a singular manner 
 in those days. The Chair in the University was 
 erected in 1803 for Mr James Russell, who held it 
 for thirty years, when he resigned at the age of 
 eighty, and was succeeded by Mr Syme. Mr Russell 
 was not an acting surgeon in the Infirmary, as the 
 clinical professor has always been since. He received, 
 however, the appointment of permanent consulting 
 surgeon ; in which capacity he regularly accompanied 
 the attending surgeons in their visits, was cognisant, 
 therefore, of everything going on in their wards, and, 
 moreover, was in some measure answerable for all 
 acts of surgical interference which required to be 
 authorised by a consultation. Having thus no hospi- 
 tal cases of his own, Russell nevertheless undertook, 
 and by the acting surgeons was allowed, to discharge 
 the delicate duty of lecturing on the cases of others. 
 In such a method, criticism of course is impossible. 
 Mistakes cannot be acknowledged. Better methods 
 cannot be suggested. Even commentary must often 
 
PROFESSOR JAMESON. 89 
 
 tread on tender ground, unless it consist entirely of 
 approval, or at least of assent. Thus the student 
 will be led to suppose that surgery is a sure and 
 easy-going art, which either always attains its object, 
 or, if not, fails through no fault of its own or of the 
 surgeon. Eussell, however, piloted his way skilfully 
 among these quicksands, and gave much useful infor- 
 mation to well-attended classes. But I must say he 
 was a somnolent lecturer, — a quality which was 
 fomented by an evening class-hour, and betrayed by 
 an inveterate habit the professor had of yawning 
 while he spoke, and continuing to speak while he 
 yawned. 
 
 I attended Natural History in the summer of my 
 first j^ear of medical study — although I mention it 
 last among my non-imperative studies for graduation. 
 Robert Jameson, its professor, was beloved by the 
 students for his devotion to his science and his chair, 
 his amiable and affable manners, and his kindness to 
 them in all circumstances. He was appointed in 
 1804, and attained his eightieth year and the fiftieth 
 of his professorship ; but for more than a twelve- 
 month before he died he was unable to teach. Jame- 
 son was rather above middle height, remarkably erect 
 to the last, finely proportioned, slimmer in appear- 
 ance than in reality — as is not uncommon with men 
 of his build — for he was actually muscular, of iron en- 
 durance, and thus well fitted by nature for his favourite 
 geological pursuits. My father and the Rev. Dr Mac- 
 knight, who sometimes accompanied him in his walks 
 through the Highlands, found that, although they 
 
90 GEOLOGICAL EXCURSIONS. 
 
 were both very strong muscular men, he even sur- 
 passed them as a pedestrian — covering long distances 
 daily, although the minerals he carried sometimes 
 accumulated before the evening's halt to a weight 
 of sixty pounds. His lectures were numerously 
 attended, in spite of a dry manner, and although 
 attendance on Natural History was not enforced for 
 any Universitj" honour, or for any profession. The 
 popularity of his subject, his earnestness as a lecturer, 
 his enthusiasm as an investigator, and the great 
 museum he had collected for illustrating his teaching, 
 were together the causes of his success. 
 
 A subject so extensive as Natural History could 
 not be overtaken in a single three-months' course of 
 instruction. He therefore took different departments 
 at different periods of the year. "When I attended 
 him, he taught Meteorology, Hydrography, and Min- 
 eralogy in his lectures, and Geology in the field. For 
 the last purpose he had abundant opportunities at 
 hand in the sandstone, Kmestone, and greenstone 
 quarries around the city, in the rocks of Arthur's 
 Seat, Salisbury Crags, Corstorphine, Blackford, Braid, 
 and Craiglockhart hills, the Pentlands, and the com- 
 plex stratification and trap disturbances of the oppo- 
 site coast of Fife. I well remember one of these 
 occasions, when we all assembled at Glencorse bridge, 
 seven miles from town, went up the valley, now 
 occupied by great reservoirs, till we reached Habbie's 
 Howe, struck across the hills to Chirrie, and then home 
 through Bruntsfield Links and the Meadows. From 
 
PLEASURES OF MOUNTAINEERING. 91 
 
 our trysting-plaee at Glencorse bridge we' started 150 
 strong ; and I have still a certain selfish pleasure in 
 the recollection, that, after a long day of continual 
 exercise, when Jameson marched up the "Mid- Walk," 
 close to home, as erect, and apparently as fresh, as 
 when he set out, he was accompanied only by my- 
 self at one side, and at the other by one of my 
 " inseparables." 
 
 These geological walks, a previous excursion on 
 foot to the Falls of the Clyde and Hamilton Palace, 
 and an intended longer pedestrian tour with my 
 father and twin-brother among the near Highlands, — 
 which was broken off abruptly at the Trossachs by 
 my father taking inflammatory sore throat, — inspired 
 me with a passion for wandering and mountain ad- 
 venture which has never left me, and which is not 
 subdued even in the present day, when the power to 
 gratify it is no longer what it once was. Bred at 
 the foot of Salisbury Crags, early training there and 
 on Arthur's Seat taught me swiftness and tolerable 
 endurance among the mountains ; so that I had full 
 enjoyment of the pleasures they afford. The physico- 
 mental gratification experienced in piercing the thin 
 clear air of a Highland mountain, and conquering the 
 difficulties of the ascent by judgment in choosing it, 
 and perseverance in finishing it, is in itself no mean 
 (in either sense of the word) enjoyment. But join 
 with it observation of the plants which the low 
 grounds do not produce, of the rocks forming the 
 precipices or exposed in the stream -courses, of the 
 
92 PLEASURES OF MOUNTAINEERING. 
 
 springs which gush out here and there, and of the 
 geography of the surrounding country as seen from 
 the summit, including hill-tops in the far distance 
 familiarised by previous visits to them, — I know not 
 any other exercise which so combines instruction, 
 amusement, and healthfulness. 
 
93 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 EXCURSIONS. 
 
 GLASGOW BEN LOMOND THE TROSSACHS BLAIR ATHOLL 
 
 PERTH STIRLING. ABERDEEN DEESIDE THE FINDHORN 
 
 FORT GEORGE INVERNESS FORT WILLIAM BEN NEVIS 
 
 GLENCOE LOCH PYNE BUTE GLASGOW. 
 
 At the time referred to, Highland excursions were 
 not undertaken by many. The paucity of tolerable 
 inns, the want of post-horses at some of them, the 
 meagre commissariat of others, and the circuitous 
 route of the roads among the mountains, rendered a 
 pedestrian both the most suitably equipped and like- 
 wise even the quickest traveller. But of course it 
 was not every tourist who could do his work day 
 after day on foot, and do it with pleasure — submit- 
 ting to occasional hardship and privation, too, with- 
 out harm or grumble. Such a life, however, suited 
 me very well — for a time at least. 
 
 Accordingly, encouraged by my father, I made in 
 1816 and 1817, in the autumnal intervals of study, 
 two long Highland excursions, of the incidents of 
 which I still retain a vivid and pleasing recollection. 
 
9i GLASGOW ORTHOEPY. 
 
 Ill 1816 my twin-brother and I, and an English 
 companion, George Smith, son of the owner of the 
 Whitechapelr Distillery, London, and afterwards a 
 principal partner in that concern when it attained a 
 gigantic magnitude, set off by coach to Glasgow, there 
 to commence our adventures on foot. We did our 
 journey of forty-five miles in seven hours, which at 
 that time was thought very good going. A day was 
 spent in Glasgow, first, in seeing the College and the 
 Cathedral Church — -the only sights there at that 
 time, besides factories, of much interest to travel- 
 lers ; and secondly, in paying a visit to my mother's 
 cousin-german, Mrs Penney, wife of an opulent mer- 
 chant, daughter of Dr Johnston, minister of North 
 Leith, and mother of the recently deceased judge, 
 Lord Kinloch. A puzzhng point in orthoepy raised 
 an unforeseen, hitch in finding her. Her house was in 
 Buchanan Street, now a street of fine shops in the 
 very heart of the great city, but then close to its 
 western outskirts, and consisting of the private dwell- 
 ings of its wealthiest merchants and chief people of 
 fashion. Glasgow was then so far behind in civilisa- 
 tion as not to have the names of its streets posted 
 up on their corners. Consequently, after walking 
 some distance along Argyle Street we had to ask our 
 way. But nobody could give us any idea where 
 Buchanan Street (pronounced by us " Buckanan ") 
 was. " There's nae sic a street in Glasgy," said one. 
 " There's siccan a street, I'm thin kin', ower awa' aboot 
 the Gorbals" (two miles off), said another. I was 
 sure this was a misdixection, and that we were very 
 
GLASGOW TASTE IN DRESS. 95 
 
 near our object. At last a good woman, who had 
 overheard our inquiries, said to me — "Maybe, sir, 
 it was Buwhawnan Street ye were wantin' ? " " Oh 
 yes," said I, "it is Buwhawnan Street. Whereabouts 
 is it ? " " Weel, sir, ye're jist staunin' in the mooth 
 o't ! " 
 
 Having referred to the backwardness of Glasgow 
 in civilisation, I may add the following illustrative 
 anecdote, told me by Mrs Penney herself. The 
 natives of the eastern and western capitals of Scot- 
 land were then not a little jealous of their respective 
 attributes ; and Edinburgh was thought by her sister 
 to hold her nose unnecessarily high in her compari- 
 sons. The ladies of Glasgow were charged with being 
 tasteless in dress, for one thing ; and undoubtedly 
 they long delighted too much in peacock and butter- 
 fly attire. This was the theme of frequent contro- 
 versy between Mrs Penney and her father, when he 
 visited her. On one occasion she challenged him to 
 go with her to a ball, where he should see the choicest 
 of Glasgow fashion, and for the first time have an 
 opportunity of judging of the taste of the true ladies 
 of Glasgow. The Doctor protested that it was rather 
 against rule for an old clergyman to frequent balls, 
 but agreed to go for an hour, to gratify her. Next 
 morning, when asked, with an air of some pride and 
 confidence, what he thought of the taste of the Glas- 
 gow ladies now, he replied candidly — " Well, my 
 dear, I must acknowledge I did. see last evening two 
 nice-looking ladies, who were very tastefully dressed." 
 " Dear me, Doctor, only two ? " " Yes, I saw two 
 
9G BEN LOMOND. 
 
 pretty and very genteel girls, I must confess." 
 " Who could they be, I wonder ? Onty two ! How- 
 were they dressed ? Were they tall ? Were they fair 
 or dark ? Were they ? — do tell me all about them ! " 
 Dr Johnston did not know their names, but proceed- 
 ed so to describe them as to cause his daughter to 
 call out in great distress — "Oh dear! oh dear! oh 
 Doctor ! Doctor ! Why, these were two Edinburgh 
 ladies ! " True or untrue at that time, the case is 
 altered now, under free communication of all parts of 
 our land with London, the centre of British fashion. 
 
 We commenced our marches with a moderate walk 
 from Glasgow to Dumbarton, finding prehnite on the 
 way among the blastings of a trap cliff hanging over 
 the highroad about two miles from the latter place. 
 In the evening we almost had a fight, to begin our 
 adventures with. For, on my brother teasing Smith 
 because he would sleep in his chair after dinner, the 
 choleric Londoner sprang up and struck him ; and a 
 battle -royal was prevented only by my interposing 
 my larger bulk between the combatants, who for a 
 while eyed one another fiercely, and hit out at each 
 other fruitlessly round nry person, but gradually 
 collapsed into peace, which next morning became 
 good-humour for the rest of our trip. The third day 
 saw us at the foot of Ben Lomond, after a charming 
 walk up the broad, and at that time quiet sequestered 
 vale of the Leven, and along the west bank of Loch 
 Lomond to Inveruglas, where we took the ferry across 
 to Eowardennan Inn. The ascent of Ben Lomond, 
 and its descent on the other side to the " clachan " 
 
an "occasion" at aberfoyle. 97 
 
 of Aberfoyle — a rugged up-and-down climb of 3190 
 feet and 20 miles — was our next undertaking. On 
 the summit the air was so clear that we could 
 discern the coast of Ireland, distant 88 miles. But 
 our most wonderful experience was to be for the 
 first time above the clouds, which in great detached 
 fleece-like masses seemed to roll from time to time 
 across country from the Goat Fell range of Arran and 
 up the slope of Ben Lomond, till they enveloped us 
 for a time in dense mist, and discharged themselves 
 of drenching showers. On reaching Aberfoyle Inn, 
 very tired, along with two Edinburgh men whom we 
 met on the top of the Ben, we found it was " Sacra- 
 ment Monday " at Aberfoyle, when all the surrounding 
 Highlands were eating and drinking, and bargaining, 
 and love-making, and quarrelling, as if on a fair-day, 
 in the house and outside the house, after the reli- 
 gious service of the " occasion " was over. We had 
 to lie more than an hour on the grassy bank of -the 
 Forth, till the lass of the inn contrived to clear a 
 room of the revellers for our accommodation, and 
 gave us possession — cautioning us at the same time 
 to keep our door locked against all comers except her- 
 self with our dinner. After dinner, however, a hill 
 farmer came rattling at the door, and inquiring for 
 our new acquaintances. He was scarcely admitted 
 when fresh knocking announced others to inquire 
 after him ; then came fresh inquirers for them ; till 
 at length, as the lass had foretold, we had twenty 
 Highlanders and more, all seated around us against 
 the wall, and quaffing pure whisky, circulated from 
 VOL. I. G 
 
98 THE TROSSACHS IX 1816. 
 
 man to nian with an oft-replenished bottle and one 
 wine-glass. 
 
 Xext morning we crossed the high, broad, rough, 
 wild, hilly land which divides the upper valleys of 
 the Forth and Teith, and arrived at the Trossachs. 
 A few years earlier in the century, before the ' Lady 
 of the Lake ' made the district famous, the onlv ref- 
 uge for travellers here was the simple dwelling of an 
 intelligent farmer, Mr Stewart of Ardcheanacrochan. 
 When my father then visited the place, Stewart re- 
 ceived him and his party as would a small Highland 
 chieftain, entertaining them with his company as well 
 as his good fare. But it was a well-understood rule 
 for the visitors, at parting, to leave on the table 
 what they judged to be compensation — just as some 
 patients do when quitting the physician's consulting- 
 room. The accommodation consisted at that time of 
 a rude, thatched ground-floor house, with very lim- 
 ited but comfortable quarters. When my party was 
 there, a larger, yet still small, blue-slated house accom- 
 modated the few additional guests as yet attracted by 
 the scenery of Scott's poem ; and the visit concluded 
 with the appearance of an innkeeper's modest bill in 
 due form. \Ye were so unlucky, however, as to find 
 the new house occupied by a fashionable London sister- 
 in-law of Stewart ; so that we were relegated to a long 
 low thatched cottage behind, consisting of a " but 
 and a ben," each containing two roomy press-beds. 
 Ten years later, when I revisited the Trossachs with 
 Dr Edward Turner, Stewart's humble quarters were 
 replaced by a large hotel which bedded thirty-seven 
 
GEOLOGICAL IMPEDIMENTA. 99 
 
 customers ; and now there is a huge castellated edifice 
 capable of housing a hundred. 
 
 I forbear from dwelling here on what we saw at the 
 Trossachs and Loch Katrine, or on the now well- 
 beaten track from the Trossachs to Callander, thence 
 to Lochearnhead, Killin, and Kenmore, to Logierait 
 and Blair Atholl, to the marble quarry half-way up 
 Glen Tilt, back again and on to Dunkeld, and then 
 to Perth. In returning through the Pass of Killie- 
 crankie, I had my first and only experience of what 
 it is to carry, on a long march, something approaching 
 in nature to a soldier's pack. Smith must needs col- 
 lect geological specimens twice the size of Professor 
 Jameson's regulation " hand specimen " ; so that, on 
 cpiitting Blair for the south, he had accumulated a 
 weight of 20 lb. of them to carry. Hence we had 
 not gone a few miles when he began to lag, then to 
 sulk, and at last to break down. In short, I had to 
 offer to carry his burden for him. It was no sooner 
 transferred to my shoulders than he trotted off at our 
 usual four-mile pace, which at first I took up willingly. 
 Ere long it became hard work. But I reached Perth 
 with the others — very tired, it must be confessed. 
 "With good sixteen miles of road to clear, the addi- 
 tion of 20 lb. weight to the ordinary ecpiipment of 
 a pedestrian tourist is no joke — not a thing to be 
 borne lightly, by any means. 
 
 From Perth we went next to the mansion of an 
 old family friend, Mr Walker- Arnott, father of the 
 Glasgow Professor of Botany, 1 and thence to Dollar 
 
 1 See ante, p. 39. 
 
100 A DANGEROUS GRASS SLOPE. 
 
 and Stirling along the base of the Ochils. On the 
 way we passed the bottom of a very long, steep, 
 smooth acclivity, ending evidently near the top of 
 Dumayet. So we at once quitted the road to ehnib 
 to the summit. Here Smith got again into a hobble. 
 It may not be easy for every one to conceive how a 
 man may get into danger on a grassy slope. But 
 Smith did. When we were a great way up, the 
 slope gradually became extremely steep, — at last the 
 steepest grass slope I had ever climbed. The short, 
 dry, slippery turf soon compelled my brother and 
 myself to betake ourselves to our bare feet for secur- 
 ity. But southern scruples led Smith to consult his 
 dignity by retaining his stockings. I had surmounted 
 all difficulty, and was looking down from a small 
 rock at the brow of the ascent, when I saw Smith slip 
 down, and, after a fruitless effort to regain his foot- 
 ing, stretch himself straight out, clinging to the turf 
 with his fingers, and calling piteously for help. For a 
 moment I laughed at him. But when his voice began 
 to quaver, I immediately became aware that he was in 
 real danger. My naked feet enabled me, with caution, 
 easily to go down to his relief, when I found him trem- 
 bling all over and utterly helpless; and no wonder, for 
 had he let go, he would have slid with great velocity 
 down a very steep, smooth declivity of several hun- 
 dred feet into a mass of rocky debris at the bottom. 
 
 From Stirling we proceeded home without any 
 adventure I can recollect. I well remember, how- 
 ever, even the details of a most glorious suuset behind 
 Ben Lomond, as seen from Stirling Castle. 
 
A TOUR IN THE NORTH-EAST. 101 
 
 In 1817 I made a wider and longer tour — of which, 
 somehow, I have a more lively recollection — with my 
 brother and a constant companion, Douglas Cameron, 
 afterwards his brother-in-law. We first sailed to 
 Aberdeen, then overran both the coast and interior 
 of Buchan, skirted the Moray Firth to Inverness, 
 crossed Scotland, by the line of lakes which are con- 
 nected by the Caledonian Canal, to Fort William, and 
 by way of Glencoe passed through Dalmally to In- 
 verary, and thence by water to Hunterston in Ayr- 
 shire, whence, after a few days' sojourn, we returned 
 straight home. We were absent seven weeks, partly 
 travelling, partly residing with friends, but perpetually 
 in motion. On arriving at home, embrowned, thin, 
 wiry, and ragged, we were not at first recognised, and 
 were then welcomed with shouts of laughter. 
 
 Our voyage to Aberdeen was my first experience of 
 the horrors of an ocean-passage in a sailing packet. 
 From Leith to Aberdeen, a sea-distance of 100 miles, 
 a strong south-west gale bore us in twelve hours at 
 night, over a constant and considerable swell. A 
 cabin nine feet by six, surrounded by a double tier of 
 berths, ten in number, was the whole accommodation 
 for thirty-four passengers, all very sick but three, of 
 whom I was one and Cameron another. To put our 
 two noses into the steaming fumes of the cabin was 
 an impossibility. All night we had to stay on deck, 
 and to pace it for warmth — our pedestrian costume 
 being necessarily light, and not admitting of the 
 luxury of a greatcoat. At five o'clock of a bright 
 sunny morning we were rather suddenly becalmed, 
 
102 BUCHAN. 
 
 only two miles from Aberdeen, and were taken off in 
 boats to the harbour. We landed just in time to find 
 the hotel doors opening, and the sleepy waiters and 
 half- dressed housemaids preparing to put things in 
 order for the day. There was no resource for our 
 wearied bodies, amid such discomfort, but to do Aber- 
 deen before breakfast ; and we then did break our 
 fast with a vengeance, after it had lasted four-and- 
 twenty hours. Our fellow-passengers from the cabin 
 were a sad spectacle as they went over the ship's side. 
 One tall young lady, who was very sick in the cabin 
 before the vessel left the still dock at Leith, was in so 
 helpless a state of collapse off Aberdeen, that she was 
 lifted into the boat in a blanket. 
 
 While staying a few days at the hospitable manse of 
 the Rev. Mr Boyd of Crimond, we made various long 
 excursions, — and, among these, one to the top of the 
 Hill of Mormond, about 700 feet high — the only con- 
 siderable hill in all Buchan. Near the summit we 
 encountered in this treeless country —as treeless as 
 when Samuel Johnson described it — a pine planta- 
 tion, thirty years old, and about eighteen inches high. 
 Thirty years later, the proprietor, Mr Gordon of 
 Cairnbulg, told me one day at a Royal Society Club 
 dinner that the wood on Mormond Hill still existed, 
 and was no taller. In a short excursion up Deeside 
 in 1857 with Mr Syrne, we found a similar forest on 
 a steep slope behind Braemar Inn, rising probably 
 1800 feet above the sea. The wood began many 
 hundred feet lower down, where it consisted of well- 
 grown trees. We went through it, tracing its gradual 
 
MORAYSHIRE. 103 
 
 degeneration upwards, till at last the pines were re- 
 duced to plants eighteen inches tall. I judged the 
 vigorous trees to be about twenty-five years old. On 
 cutting one of the stunted trees across, we found the 
 bark extremely thick, and the wood only three- 
 quarters of an inch in diameter — on which we counted 
 with a magnifier twenty -five annual rings. 
 
 While at Crimond we made excursions likewise to 
 Slains Castle, the Bullers of Buchan, the ruins of Pit- 
 sligo Castle, and Fraserburgh in the herring season. 
 We then proceeded westward, picking up serpentine 
 at Portsoy, — visiting Gamrie Kirk, "built in 1004," 
 like a barn, with two grinning skulls of Danish pi- 
 rates stuck into the wall facing the pulpit, — surveying 
 the interior of Duff House, Banff, and setting up our 
 rest again for a few days at Eelugas, on the banks of the 
 Findhorn, or rather of its tributary, the Divie. This 
 beautiful property belonged at the time to Lady Dick 
 Lauder, and was in charge of Mr Wilson, a brother- 
 in-law of my father, originally, like him, from Ber- 
 wickshire, but long settled in the north as farmer, 
 factor, and superintendent of roads. Here we made 
 many delightful excursions to Loch-in-Dorbh and its 
 island-castle ; to Darnaway Castle and its woods ; to 
 Pluscardine Abbey, a noble ruin too little known ; to 
 the great heronry of the lower Findhorn ; to the 
 Chiefs Loup, a narrow rocky gorge through which 
 the river rushes with pent-up fury, and across which 
 a fugitive chieftain leapt in desperation when closely 
 pursued by his bloodthirsty enemies. I retain a most 
 lively recollection of all events during this Eelugas 
 
104 MISS GRACE BAILLIE. 
 
 visit. But two sights dwell especially in my memory. 
 One was a fine wheat-field on the north bank of the 
 river Findhorn, the first crop after Mr Wilson had 
 cleared the ground of three feet of great water-worn 
 stones by tumbling them into the impetuous stream. 
 The other was the first presentment of an afterwards 
 intimate friend, the eccentric Miss Grace Baillie, long 
 well known in Edinburgh circles. AYe three lads wen- 
 invited to breakfast one morning at Logie House by 
 her sister, Mrs Gumming of Logie, mother of Lady 
 Coxe of Kinellan. Breakfast was well advanced, when 
 in swam the tall, large frame of Miss Grace, exuber- 
 antly caparisoned in lace and jewellery, scenting the 
 whole room at entry, and attended by two fat, bark- 
 ing pug-dogs, — all which display had been got up to 
 meet " three Edinburgh gentlemen." Her theatrical 
 pause of astonishment may be conceived, when the 
 visitors suddenly dwindled down to three raw, nut- 
 brown lads in jane trousers and jackets. 
 
 From Belugas we marched to Fort George, where I 
 slept for the first and last time in a fortified place. 
 On the way we visited Cawdor Castle, and saw there, 
 with all necessary respect, the bedstead in which King 
 Duncan was murdered by Macbeth, and the trunk of 
 a hawthorn-tree, piercing the floor and ceiling of a 
 cellar, on the spot where it grew at the period of the 
 foundation of the Cawdor family. From Fort George 
 we proceeded to Inverness, dwelling for a day, how- 
 ever, with Dr Duncan Forbes, previously tutor, and 
 then factor, to Forbes of Culloden, and taking advan- 
 tage of the opportunity of digging up combatants' 
 
NIGHT IN A HIGHLAND INN. 105 
 
 bones on the field of battle in the neighbourhood. 
 Leaving Inverness, we chose at first the road on the 
 north side of Loch Ness. But at Invermoriston we 
 were induced, by the master and mate of a barge 
 belonging to the garrison of Fort Augustus, to cross 
 the loch with their crew of six soldiers to General's 
 Hut and the Fall of Foyers. We arrived close to our 
 post at nightfall, but grounded on the bar of the 
 river; and our boat being heavy, she was not got 
 over and drawn up on dry land till ten o'clock. This 
 was too late an arrival at a remote Highland inn. 
 Accordingly we found its two rooms engaged, so that 
 we had to make a parlour of the kitchen. The pro- 
 visions of the house were reduced to dry oatmeal- 
 cakes, kebbock-cheese, whisky, and the well-picked 
 bones of a gigot of mutton — not even milk or butter 
 being left. The only feasible bone of the lot was 
 unanimously voted to the smallest and most wearied 
 of the crew ; but he had barely put his teeth to the 
 miserable remains of flesh on it, when a lurcher from 
 under the table robbed him in the most barefaced 
 manner, and scampered off with it into the darkness. 
 Our very Lenten entertainment, after thirteen hours 
 of fasting, did not in the least degree prevent us from 
 passing a merry evening with our rough comrades. 
 We then retired to our respective quarters, — the boat's 
 crew and officers to the hay-loft, and we three to a 
 berth of greater honour, a sort of closet on the hay- 
 loft floor, screened off with a few planks, furnished 
 with two flock-beds laid on planks, and canopied with 
 a populous hen-roost among the rafters, where an old 
 
106 NIGHT IN A HIGHLAND INN. 
 
 cock and a young cock, disturbed by our lights and 
 laughter, crowed treble and bass to one another the 
 whole night. Before retiring from the kitchen to 
 seek repose, some one suggested jocularly, and others 
 agreed with progressively swelling words of deter- 
 mination, that in the middle of the night we should 
 storm and capture the two rooms above us, each of 
 which had two beds, occupied by a touring party — 
 two gentlemen in one room, and one lady only in the 
 other. It seems that, through the thin unceilinged 
 kitchen roof, they heard distinctly our threats, took 
 them cm serieux ; and as the lady's bedroom door had 
 neither lock nor bolt, they erected upon a table a 
 tottering structure with a gridiron on the top of all, 
 so that when the lady, on the departure of her squires 
 for the night, should carefully push the whole erec- 
 tion upon the closed door, it could not be opened 
 from the outside without such a clatter and hubbub 
 as would bring her two defenders to the rescue. 
 
 Our entertainment, whether in food or rest, had 
 not been such as to be any impediment to our getting 
 up nest morning at four, visiting the Fall of Foj^ers, 
 and taking to our boat at six, for Fort Augustus, fif- 
 teen miles off. A long day's march brought us to 
 Fort William, without any notable incident. 
 
 Next day was spent in climbing Ben Nevis. We 
 were seven hours away from our inn, doing the work 
 rather quickly, but remaining more than two hours on 
 the summit. The summit had evidently been at one 
 time a broad table or flattened dome. But about one- 
 third has been carried away by a deep cut into one side 
 
ASCENT OF BEN NEVIS. 107 
 
 of the mountain, so as to form two tremendous preci- 
 pices, facing, or rather enfilading, one another, and meet- 
 ing at an obtuse angle in the middle of the platform. 
 The re-entrant angle between the precipices is filled up 
 by a uniform slope of rocky debris, descending about 
 1000 feet at the usual rubbish-incline of 45°. This 
 slope may be descended or ascended in ordinary years. 
 But the hard winter previous to our visit, followed by 
 a rather ungenial summer, had left fully 800 feet of 
 the slope covered with a uniform sheet of snow. The 
 precipices, at their outer ends, are said to be 1500 feet 
 in height ; and I can believe it. For I have since seen 
 them, in a very clear day, in 1843, making a great 
 show from a height above Loch Broom, sixty miles 
 off ; and a large block of basalt — as much as we three 
 and our guide could turn — when pitched over the 
 edge, near the middle of the south precipice, where 
 the rock appeared to us to be mural, took so many 
 seconds for the sound of its first stroke to reach our 
 ears, that I calculated the elevation to be 700 feet 
 even at that point. The atmosphere favoured us 
 highly, being so clear that there was no limit to the 
 view except an obstructing object. I saw, towards 
 the north-east, the inlet of the Moray Firth, near In- 
 verness, at least sixty-five miles distant; and westward, 
 to the south of the Hebrides, a long line of sea-horizon, 
 which, as our elevation was 4406 feet, must have been 
 distant eighty-four miles, says Professor Tait. But 
 perhaps the most magnificent spectacle of all was the 
 vast field of mountain-tops, stretching over three- 
 fourths of the surrounding panorama — looked down 
 
108 BEN NEVIS. 
 
 upon, owing to our greater elevation, and therefore 
 appearing to slope from us — like a surrounding green 
 sea of great, broken, detached mountain-waves, rolling 
 away as far as the eye could reach. Not less impressive, 
 however, than that view was the utter silence around. 
 I have been often on the summit of mountains in 
 Scotland ; but there usually prevails on a mountain- 
 top breeze enough to create a murmur, and disturb 
 the otherwise dead stillness of nature. On the present 
 occasion there was not a breath of air. The absence 
 of sound, generally total, was rendered only the more 
 solemn when broken from time to time by a faint soft 
 hiss — swelling, floating, and fading on the ear — from 
 the far-off falls in Glen Nevis, denoted to the eye by 
 a long thin silvery line, two miles distant and 3500 
 feet below. 
 
 Before our descent I had an escapade. The great 
 snow declivity between the precipices was interrupted, 
 about fifteen feet below the top, by a flat snow terrace, 
 twenty feet wide, or perhaps a little more. We all 
 proceeded to slide down to the terrace, and I led the 
 way. On arriving at the bottom of the short slide, I 
 counted on stopping farther progress at once by strik- 
 ing my heel into the snow of the terrace. But its 
 surface proved to be hard, impenetrable, slipper}" 
 neve. Instantly apprised of my danger, I threw my- 
 self on my back, and stretched out arms and legs to 
 increase the friction ; by favour of which I stopped 
 before arriving at the edge ! Had I not, what then ? 
 Immediately I sprang up, rushed back to my com- 
 panions, and met them on their descent, to their sur- 
 
GEOLOGICAL PROBLEM. 109 
 
 prise, by knocking them flat on their backs at the 
 bottom of their slide. 
 
 The upper part of Ben Nevis is densely and uni- 
 formly covered with loose sharp-edged blocks and 
 stones of dark-grey basalt, 1 which is its uppermost 
 rock. The same covering, without either soil or ver- 
 dure anywhere, forms the surface of the mountain for 
 800 or 1000 feet down on all sides. How has this 
 flooring been produced ? Not by mere denudation, 
 Professor Geikie ! For why collected only on the 
 upper dome of the mountain? And why are all 
 these loose rocks and stones angular, not rounded? 
 I have since met with the same geological structure 
 on several other Highland mountains — notably on 
 the Cobbler, where the blocks are black mica-slate, 
 generally of great size ; still more so on the adjoining 
 Ben Arnan, where the rock is the same, and the 
 masses are crowded and very large ; and also most 
 remarkably on Craig Legechich in Glen Shee, where 
 they are all composed of a white, extremely dense, 
 fine-grained, quartzy sandstone. It is not unworthy 
 of remark, too, that on the higher, dome-shaped, 
 broad top of the Glas-meal, of which Craig Legechich 
 is the western spur, with very little depression be- 
 tween them, the surface consists of small mica-slate 
 stones and a good deal of soil, a little scrubby grass, 
 and more lichens, without any large angular stones 
 or blocks. 
 
 1 Later in life Sir Robert stated, in a paper read before the Eoyal 
 Society of Edinburgh, that this stone, although very like basalt, is a 
 porphyrite. 
 
110 GLEXCOE. 
 
 My last act on the summit of Ben Nevis was to 
 seek out the highest undetached rock, to break off its 
 tip, aud to carry away the top of Great Britain, 
 which is still in my possession — 2.0 inches by 1.75, 
 and 0.6 thick, of undeniable basalt. 1 
 
 Next day we walked no farther than Ballachulish. 
 rather lazily, and the day after that to King's House 
 through Glencoe, very stiffly. For we had descended 
 Ben Nevis rapidly in a straight line down to the bank 
 of the Nevis, first over stones, and then on very steep 
 turf, often running, and often leaping from one green 
 hump to another. This is the most trying of all 
 exercises on a mountain. We had trusted to our 
 previous training ; but we trusted in vain. The strain 
 on the anterior muscles of the thighs and legs was 
 too great ; and consequently, as I have always found 
 after unwonted violent muscular exertion of the limbs, 
 the strained muscles became on the second day there- 
 after, but not till then, sore, stiff, and tender to the 
 touch. 
 
 Of course we were awe-struck by the precipitous 
 mountains which everywhere bound Glencoe, and 
 very much enchanted with the grand cone of parallel 
 rocky zones composing the mountain behind King's 
 House. With the intention of making a longer 
 march on the subsequent day, we took an early stage 
 of nine miles to the solitary Inveroran Inn. As we 
 approached it, very hungry with our early morn- 
 ing's walk, we descried pouring out from the door a 
 crowd of road-makers, who had left us for breakfast 
 
 1 See note, p. 109. 
 
LOCH FYNE AND THE CLYDE. Ill 
 
 literally nothing but oat - cakes, salt herring, and 
 whisky. But this proved hard training diet, though 
 not over-savoury, for we afterwards made out sixteen 
 miles to Dalmally. Another day's easy march brought 
 us, by way of Loch Awe and Glen Ary, to Inverary. 
 
 Here we wandered through the grounds surround- 
 ing the castle, and ascended the hill of Dunaquoich, 
 which, from a height of about 1000 feet, overlooks 
 Loch Fyne and its shores. I well remember that 
 glorious view of Loch Fyne, studded as it was with 
 uncountable boats under sail, busy with the herring- 
 fishery. The only other scene I clearly recollect was 
 the lawn avenue of splendid limes, their branches 
 meeting the grass, and their dense foliage rising in 
 tall graceful cones to a great height. They were then 
 at their best, for several were blown down afterwards. 
 Thirty-five years later, while rusticating at Arrochar, 
 I descried a few with the telescope from the summit 
 of the Cobbler, ten miles off. I understand they are 
 all gone now. 
 
 In the early morning we boarded a Clyde steamer, 
 one of many already plying in the narrow lochs of 
 the Firth. Without any incident of note — except 
 my first and last opportunity of breakfasting on deli- 
 cious Loch Fyne herrings handed into the steamer 
 from the fishing-boat which had just drawn a netful 
 of them — we were landed at Largs, in Ayrshire, 
 bound for the seat of Mr Hunter of Hunterston. 
 We spent three days there, fishing whiting one day, 
 rowing the next to Little Cumbrae, two miles and a 
 half distant, and on the third pulling four stout oars 
 
112 ADVENTURE OX THE CUMBRAE. 
 
 five miles to the island of Bute. The Little Cumbrae 
 was then, and I believe still is, an uninterrupted rab- 
 bit-warren. As we rose over one gentle grassy swell 
 after another, the little creatures scampered to their 
 holes in crowds, like flocks of sheep alarmed on the 
 highway. Our excursion to the south shore of Bute 
 was made with a college companion, young Hunters- 
 ton, for our fourth oar, and his little brother for 
 coxwain. The day being very hot, we anchored in a 
 lovely bay close to land, and swam ashore to disport 
 ourselves in our skins on a long stretch of fine firm 
 sand. While we were enjoying the ease and freedom 
 of racing in so unusual a garb, a large flock of goats 
 appeared on the top of the bank overlooking our race- 
 course, charged down upon us in Hue, and drove us 
 ignominiously into the sea. We returned, however, 
 to land, armed with our oars, and repulsed the enemy 
 after a stout resistance and many hard blows. 
 
 Next day brought our seven-weeks' campaign to an 
 end by our return home, via Glasgow, on the top of 
 the coach — so nut-brown that our parents and ser- 
 vants once more welcomed us with shouts of laughter. 
 
113 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 INFIRMARY LIFE. 
 
 NOTICES OF COMPANIONS, THEIR CHARACTERS AND THEIR HISTORIES : 
 WILLIAM CAMERON, BENJAMIN "WELSH, MOWBRAY THOMSON, DON- 
 ALD MACINTOSH, JAMES CRAIG SOMERVILLE, DAVID CRAIGIE, 
 LUCIUS O'BRIEN, WILLIAM CULLEN, EDWARD TURNER, WILLIAM 
 TURNER, GEORGE STEDMANN, DOUGLAS CAMERON, JEAN CHARLES 
 COINDET. 
 
 I had been but a few weeks at home from my long- 
 pedestrian excursion in 1817, when I was called on to 
 enter on a very different sort of life. 
 
 William Cameron, a companion older than myself, 
 physician's-assistant in the Eoyal Infirmary, had been 
 attacked by the fever which about that time began 
 to prevail epidemically in Edinburgh, and with the 
 treatment of which he had been much concerned in 
 the hospital. I accepted his invitation to be his sub- 
 stitute, and at once was installed as lieutenant of 
 Dr Spens, and became a full-fledged physician, with 
 all his formidable responsibilities. 
 
 This mental condition, a sense of responsibility 
 — the bugbear of many, and in the mouths of all — I 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
114 INFIRMARY TRAINING. 
 
 felt neither on this nor on any other occasion. It 
 seems to me to have been always swallowed up by 
 another mental condition, a fixed determination to 
 do my duty, and more than merely my duty. By 
 following this rule, I learnt to avoid the oppres- 
 sion which many feel under what is usually called 
 responsibility, and to leave all consequences to my- 
 self in the hands of a good Providence. But, be the 
 cause what it may, responsibility has never given me 
 a moment's thought. On the present occasion I got 
 settled in my saddle at once — very much owing, I 
 believe, to the kind indulgence and fatherly care of 
 the warm-hearted Dr Spens, my superior, and ever 
 afterwards my attached friend. 
 
 I thus commenced at an early age a period of two 
 years and a half of professional practical training, 
 than which I do not believe there is any better in the 
 whole world. The cases in the Edinburgh Infirmary, 
 attracted from various and distant quarters, illustrate 
 almost all diseases. The office of Physician's or Sur- 
 geon's Clerk — now called Eesident Physician or Sur- 
 geon — places a young man in a position of primary 
 responsibility, free to act according to his judgment, 
 as soon as he wins the confidence of his chief. He 
 resides along with companions similarly placed with 
 himself, and among whom, when they happen to be 
 youths of talent, as was the case with most of mine, 
 he may always have interesting professional inter- 
 course, and often valuable advice. Farther, he has 
 his physician-in-chief, or surgeon, to uphold, inform, 
 and check him when necessary. Thus a mere aeci- 
 
MY INFIRMARY COMPANIONS. 115 
 
 dent gained for me this most enviable position, while 
 I was a young student, having finished only my 
 second year of study, and nearly two years before I 
 graduated ; whereas now a young man must be a 
 registered graduate or surgeon before he can hold 
 such an appointment. I may justly say, and, indeed, 
 thankfully acknowledge, that in each important step 
 in my life, circumstances have seemed so to arrange 
 themselves as to secure my advancement at an un- 
 usually early age ; and in this instance the appoint- 
 ment was a very important one, as I have always 
 held, both in itself and as leading to others not less 
 so. It placed me, when I left it at the age of twenty- 
 three, on a level as to professional knowledge with 
 other men seven years and more my seniors, and 
 gave me advantage in any professional competition 
 that might arise. 
 
 I began as substitute for William Cameron in the 
 office of physician's clerk ; soon afterwards I suc- 
 ceeded him on his going to Calcutta in the East 
 India Company's medical service ; and during my 
 final nine months I exchanged with a comrade, and 
 became house-surgeon under Sir William Newbigging. 
 
 During this period there were seven young resident 
 medical officers connected with the Infirmary — four in 
 the Infirmary itself, and three in Queensberry House, 
 which was fitted up as a hospital for fevers, in con- 
 sequence of an epidemic having broken out in Edin- 
 burgh far more extensive than any upon record there. 
 These residents being often seized with fever, deputies 
 became necessary. Thus it was that thirteen or four- 
 
116 WILLIAM CAMERON. 
 
 teen of us were brought almost constantly together ; 
 and being sufficient society for one another, we had 
 little communication with other medical students. 
 My companions differed, of course, in mental endow- 
 ments and character. But it was remarkable how 
 many young men of sterling ability were thus, ap- 
 parently by chance, brought into one another's con- 
 stant company. I can well recollect how, during these 
 two years and a half, iron sharpened iron, and I can 
 readily recall the countenances of those who chiefly 
 had that influence on me. Dwelling, as I now do, 
 on those happy days — from which all recollection of 
 what must have been occasional disturbing unhap- 
 piness has entirely vanished — I cannot refrain from 
 here recording the impressions left on me of the chief 
 points in the characters and lives of my hospital 
 associates, although truly this detail may be desti- 
 tute of interest to any but myself. 
 
 William Cameron was about three years my senior 
 in years and as a student ; and consequently, though 
 I was very intimate with him in social Hfe, we were 
 thrown Httle together in our professional pursuits. 
 Very soon indeed after his recovery from fever, he sailed 
 for Calcutta. There he rose well in the East India 
 Company's service, and in no long time he became 
 one of the presidency surgeons. As he never married, 
 he ought to have made money. But he was addicted 
 extremely to the Indian virtue of hospitality. Never- 
 theless, at his death, which took place at middle age, 
 his friends were astonished that he left literally noth- 
 ing behind him, not even any valuable property in 
 
WELSH AND THOMSON. 117 
 
 his house ; so that strong suspicions always existed 
 that he had been plundered both of money and goods 
 by his native steward, on whom he indolently devolved 
 too much. 
 
 Benjamin Welsh, 1 younger brother of a much-re- 
 spected physician at Haddington, was in the first place 
 assistant to Dr Hamilton in the Infirmary, and then 
 superintendent of the Fever Hospital. Keen-witted, 
 pugnacious, fiery, and one-sided, he threw himself with 
 his whole heart into the cause of the bloody treat- 
 ment of fever. Such was his faith in the influence 
 of this remedy, that in a book on the " Edinburgh 
 Fever" which he published in 1819, he maintained 
 that the varying types of epidemics, sthenic and 
 asthenic, depended simply on the use or the avoid- 
 ance of blood-letting as the remedy. Use the lancet 
 freely, the type was sthenic or inflammatory, and 
 easily curable : abstain, and it became asthenic, 
 typhous, and intractable. Not long afterwards, his 
 brother having died, Benjamin Welsh took his place 
 at Haddington, but followed him in a few years, — 
 dying of consumption before seeing that change arise, 
 about 1831, in the constitution of our fevers, which 
 could scarce have failed to convince him of his error. 
 
 Martin Mowbray Thomson, son of a retired navy 
 captain, was the fighting-cock of our circle. Not that 
 we ever fought, or even quarrelled. Not that Martin 
 Mowbray was quarrelsome, or in looks or manner 
 combative. On the contrary, he had small, fine, 
 peaceful, almost feminine features, and a frame which 
 
 1 Uncle of Mrs Carlyle. 
 
118 DONALD MACINTOSH. 
 
 only attentive inspection snowed to be one of agile 
 strength. He did not even join in the exercise 
 which some of us took in sparring. But he was a 
 wondrous natural fighter, which quality he had ample 
 opportunity of verifying upon the turbulent, quarrel- 
 some lads of the street. In those days a little 
 knot of gentlemen could scarcely ever traverse 
 Princes Street, the North Bridge, and the South 
 Bridge at night, without ample provocation over and 
 over again to fight. On such occasions our meek- 
 looking companion became a Hon, before whom I 
 never saw one of the " unwashed " who could stand 
 for a moment. He rose well in the East India Com- 
 pany's service, but died of cholera about the age of 
 fifty. 
 
 Donald Macintosh, who never held an appointment 
 in the hospital, but frequently acted as locum 
 tenens for a fevered comrade, was one of Dr John 
 Thomson's secretaries. His abilities, naturally good, 
 were well cultivated through the nature of his duties 
 under Thomson, whose wont it was to employ some 
 clever young man as a fishing cormorant, to hunt 
 up and read references and other authorities for 
 him, while composing his lectures and publications. 
 Donald thus became a learned student, and an au- 
 thority for facts and histories, a great stickier for the 
 non-mercurial treatment of syphilis, and a steady 
 defender of the identity of chicken-pox with small- 
 pox — Thomson's two favourite doctrines of the day, 
 extremely popular in Edinburgh. It is probable that 
 Macintosh would have risen in the ranks of our pro- 
 
SOMERVILLE AND CRAIGIE. 119 
 
 fession — for Dr Thomson never lost sight of his 
 young assistants who proved to be worthy of his 
 patronage, which was powerful ; but unhappily our 
 companion died of consumption a few years after he 
 graduated in 1822. 
 
 James Craig Somerville, son of Dr Somerville, hus- 
 band of the famous lady mathematician, was a little, 
 clever, merry, restless, talkative newsmonger and story- 
 teller — a great source of amusement, but sometimes a 
 breeder of mischief. He was a general favourite for 
 his real and active kindliness of disposition ; but at 
 the same time he was apt to be viewed with some re- 
 serve, for his looseness of tongue and love for the part 
 of busybody. " Summus Minimus " knew every one, 
 every one knew him ; and so he was an amazing store 
 of tittle-tattle information. He settled as a physician 
 in London, with no great success. He had interest 
 enough to get afterwards the appointment of In- 
 spector of Anatomy, under Warburton's Anatomy Act 
 of 1835. But, owing to some cause which I have for- 
 gotten, he did not long give satisfaction. Chagrined 
 by this and other disappointments, he fell into ill 
 health, and died about middle age, without leaving 
 any evidence of the ability he showed in early life. 
 
 David Craigie was our pundit. When an Arts stu- 
 dent at the University, he showed uncommon aptitude 
 for acquiring languages. He knew well Latin, Greek, 
 and several modern tongues, something of Hebrew, 
 and Persian thoroughly. This early training made him 
 a great reader, fond of diving into the older modern 
 medical authors, whom he delighted to quote in con- 
 
120 DAVID CRAIGIE. 
 
 troversy and conversation. Craigie was ever full of 
 " wise saws and modern instances " — sententious, yet 
 verbose, and circumflex even in common talk. His 
 style in composition was the same. When he became 
 subsequently reviewer in the ' Edinburgh Medical and 
 Surgical Journal,' his articles were easdy known by the 
 beautiful Italian smoothness of the letterpress, arising 
 from few points, and from sesquipedalia verba, with- 
 out tads or spears to blotch the interlining. Compare, 
 for example, the two following sentences of Latin and 
 Teutonic English, and the ocular diagnosis may be 
 seen by any eye : " I recommend reconsideration of 
 your predicament and the wisdom of recovering inter- 
 communication with your formidable adversary, in 
 circumstances so anomalous and with military prepar- 
 ations so incommensurate." " Tell your friend, with 
 my regards, that he is a big fool to be always using 
 such a crowd of long, double -legged words, which 
 only serve to cloud his thoughts, cripple his reader's 
 speed, and tire out every one's patience." 
 
 Craigie wrote many learned papers in the Medical 
 Journals for a long period of years — none of an orig- 
 inal nature of much importance. He also published 
 two thick octavos — one on Pathology, the other on 
 the Practice of Physic. Neither of these works took 
 with students or practitioners. His ' Practice of 
 Physic ' presented one novel feature, inasmuch as he 
 tried to affix to every disease a vernacular name, 
 which, strangely for one of his usually Latinised dic- 
 tion, he strove to deduce from Saxon roots. His 
 reader may be amused with such attempts at nomen- 
 
DAVID CEAIGIE. 121 
 
 clature as Scaly Tetter for Psoriasis, Tedious Blebs 
 for Pompholix diutinus, Knobbed Nettle-rash for Urti- 
 caria tuberosa, Rank Red-Gum for Strophilus con- 
 fertus, Horny Fish-Skin disease for Ichthyosis cornea, 
 and Prominent Limpet-Shell Scab for Eupia prom- 
 inens ; but no one espoused his English nomenclature, 
 and British medicine still recognises these abomina- 
 tions by their Latin names only. 
 
 Dr Craigie became one of the ordinary physicians 
 in the Eoyal Infirmary, in which capacity he was a 
 faithful and zealous officer, and an energetic practi- 
 tioner. He was also for some years a private lecturer 
 on the Practice of Physic ; and though never popular 
 as such, his teaching was much approved by those 
 who did attend him. In 1842, when Dr Thomson 
 resigned the Chair of General Pathology in the Uni- 
 versity, he naturally became a candidate for the vacant 
 office, and was generally regarded as the fittest com- 
 petitor. But he lost the election in a strange way. 
 The race lay eventually between three. Two votings 
 were therefore required to decide the election. It 
 was well ascertained that, at the first vote, Craigie 
 would have thirteen, and each of his rivals ten, of the 
 thirty-three voters in the Town Council, who at that 
 time were patrons of the chair. Craigie's supporters, 
 therefore, at the first voting, lent a Councillor to the 
 rival who was supposed to be the weaker of the two 
 for the second and final voting, so as to throw out him 
 who was thought the more formidable. The first vote 
 stood — 12, 11, 10, in Craigie's favour. The lent 
 voter then wheeled back to Craigie. But the in- 
 
122 DAVID CRAIGIE. 
 
 ventors of this ruse had made a mistake, and brought 
 in for the final vote the wrong man for this purpose, 
 and he was appointed by a majority of seventeen to 
 sixteen. 
 
 "Whether this deplorable misadventure — the loss of 
 an important office by one vote only — was the cause, 
 I cannot say ; but Craigie fell not long afterwards into 
 a most pitiable state of ill health. He was a marvel- 
 lous instance, however, of the tenacity of valetudi- 
 narian life. He inherited an untoward constitution ; 
 and while a voung adult, had twice serious indications 
 for a considerable time of commencing tubercular dis- 
 ease in the lungs. He recovered, however ; and 
 though slim and defective in muscle, he became 
 apparently healthy, strong, and hardy. He once 
 walked with me from Edinburgh to Foulden, fifty- 
 four miles, in two days, without any previous train- 
 ing ; and on the first day we did twenty-eight miles 
 in seven hours. But eventually he was attacked 
 with what appeared to be subacute rheumatism of 
 both knee-joints, ending slowly in " ivory joints," or 
 perhaps even anchylosis. He was thus confined for 
 years to a wheeled-chair within doors for locomo- 
 tion ; and when at last he emerged from retirement, 
 he could only walk a slow pace, with both the thighs 
 and legs much flexed. Notwithstanding all these 
 melancholy drawbacks to longevity, Craigie, against 
 all ordinary rule, attained his seventy-first year. His 
 mind, too, continued active and busy to the last. 
 
 Lucius J. O'Brien was a fine specimen of a polished 
 Irish gentleman. To this character he was well en- 
 
LUCIUS o'brien. 123 
 
 titled both by birth and by education. For he was 
 educated in England chiefly, and his family were 
 reputed to be next in claim to the Thomond Mar- 
 quisate after the family in possession. Moreover, 
 Callander of Craigforth was his uncle ; and Lady 
 Graham of Netherby, wife of the well-known Min- 
 ister, Sir James Graham, was his aunt. He had a 
 handsome, engaging countenance, great liveliness in 
 conversation, and no brogue unless he was imitating it. 
 His excellent training and mild disposition, however, 
 could not withstand the disturbing influence of wine. 
 At a Medical Society's dinner he became outrageously 
 rude, and insulted two members to the duelling-point. 
 But one of them appealed successfully from Lucius 
 drunk to Lucius sober ; and next morning he himself 
 took the initiative with the other, a more formidable 
 character, by dragging me with him at six o'clock to 
 the offended man's lodgings, and tendering an ample 
 apology. He never afterwards allowed himself to 
 fall into similar danger. O'Brien bad good parts, 
 was a diligent and prominent student, and in the 
 hospital an acute observer and sound practitioner. 
 Strange ! sadly strange ! that the life of such a man 
 should prove a failure. He settled as physician at 
 Cork soon after he graduated. There his sensitive 
 sympathetic heart fell deeply in love with a beautiful 
 girl of good station, but decayed circumstances, whom 
 he attended in his professional capacity. Marriage 
 was the natural result of this Irish concurrence of 
 provocations to it ; but, in order to live in that state, 
 he accepted a situation in Kingston, Jamaica, with 
 
124 WILLIAM CULLEN. 
 
 good prospects of success. He had not been long 
 settled there, when, his wife dying, he fell in love 
 with a brown lady, and married her. This was an 
 unpardonable breach of decorum in a slave colon}", 
 and all subsequent professional progress came to an 
 end. He consequently migrated to Canada, where he 
 settled at Toronto, became Professor of Medical Juris- 
 prudence in its college, but did not succeed well in 
 medical practice. Eventually he got a post in the 
 Customs Office at Montreal, where he died at the age 
 of seventy-five, in, I fear, very limited circumstances. 
 Of all my hospital companions, William Cullen was 
 endowed with the greatest talent, and in him it almost 
 amounted to genius. He was grand-nephew of our 
 great Professor Cullen, and son of an army colonel, 
 famed in Edinburgh for his good looks, which, I have 
 heard my mother say, even attracted ladies to his 
 church to see him. My companion, too, had in his 
 youth very fine features, which, however, became 
 rather large after adult age. His mother, a fine-look- 
 ing woman, was sister of Sir John Hope of Pinkie ; 
 and consequently her son had access to the society of 
 a wide circle of Edinburgh aristocrats of the exclusive 
 class. Thus his manners were excellent. He had 
 been a High School dux, and easdy so ; for he had a 
 powerful, retentive memory, wonderful rapidity in his 
 studies, great facility and choice of language, and 
 intense energy in every pursuit. He had singular 
 invention so far as thought went, but none of a 
 practical tendency. He had read a great deal for so 
 young a man, and all he learnt was at his immediate 
 
cullen's defects. 125 
 
 command. Except in classical literature, however, 
 much of his reading was of the flimsy sort. He 
 knew nothing almost of mathematics and physics, 
 and little of chemistry, botany, and natural history. 
 Even when a very young man, he was one of the most 
 powerful public speakers I ever heard. 
 
 With all these great advantages, Cullen's success in 
 Edinburgh seemed certain, and every one who knew 
 him foretold that he would prove a future bulwark of 
 its medical school. 
 
 But other necessary conditions were wanting. He 
 was of an eminently sanguine temperament, and he 
 partook of its frequent defects. He was impulsive 
 and impetuous, deficient in fairness, discretion, reserve, 
 and forbearance. Hence, while he was the wittiest 
 man in conversation I have ever met, he had no 
 scruple in exercising this talent at the cost of his 
 acquaintances, absent as well as present ; and thus he 
 made among them not a few enemies, many neutrals, 
 and not many true friends. I remember his meeting 
 one day on the North Bridge Charles Neaves, after- 
 wards Lord Neaves, and myself — all three of us newly 
 entered on the business of life — when Cullen amused 
 us with his sneering witticisms, truly or falsely por- 
 traying the characters of a multitude of our common 
 friends. He then passed on his way, when Neaves 
 observed — " Don't you feel that the next acquaint- 
 ances whom Cullen meets will be equally amused 
 at your expense and mine ? " Thus it was that he 
 damaged his position. I must say for him, however, 
 that he and I, whose intimacy was greater than that 
 
126 CULLEX MISTOOK HIS PROFESSION. 
 
 between him and any one else, never experienced 
 either interruption or abatement of it, till not long 
 before he died, when, indeed, a serious coldness arose 
 betwixt us. 
 
 On leaving the Infirmary in the autumn of 1819, 
 he spent a winter at St Bartholomew's Hospital, 
 London, where he was Abernethy's anatomical pro- 
 sector. Next summer I joined him there ; and in 
 the following autumn we went to Paris, and dwelt 
 together till I w r ent back to London in the subsequent 
 summer of 1821. Cullen remained some time longer 
 in Paris before returning home to Edinburgh. During 
 his long absence he worked hard to make himself a 
 thorough anatomist ; and he succeeded, in spite of 
 awkward fingers. 
 
 At Edinburgh he started as Lecturer on Anatomy, 
 his ultimate object being the practice of surgery. This 
 was a mistake on his part. Physic was his forte, and 
 ought to have been his portal. But indeed his choice 
 of a profession was a mistake altogether. He ought 
 to have been a lawyer ; but an elder brother stood in 
 his way at the Bar, although unsuccessful. 
 
 William Cullen's choice of surgery paved the way 
 to his untimely death. Not long after he com- 
 menced lecturing, the College of Surgeons — of which 
 he had become a Fellow — having been desirous of 
 obtaining a Pathological JMuseum, he proposed a 
 scheme for making a collection at Paris, through 
 his intimacy with the medical officers of the chief 
 hospitals, where the materials were far beyond the 
 wants of the Parisian museums. After consider- 
 
cullen's illness. 127 
 
 able opposition, arising from jealousy of the advan- 
 tages which Cullen would derive from executing 
 such an undertaking, the proposal was carried in 
 the College ; and he repaired again to Paris with 
 plenary powers and funds. At first he was suc- 
 cessful ; but very soon — through Parisian jealousy, 
 as he maintained — he found all access to materials 
 gradually shut against him. His sanguine disposi- 
 tion could not brook the disappointment. He "sus- 
 tained a bad attack of apoplexy — so bad that Dr 
 Alison, who happened to be passing through Paris 
 at the time, thought he could not recover. He did 
 recover, however, and returned home quite well. 
 
 In a short time he was appointed assistant-surgeon 
 in the Infirmary. He then seemed to all men to have 
 the ball at his foot. But alas, poor Cullen ! He had 
 not been many months on duty when he fell one day 
 into a fit of epilepsy in the hospital, in presence 
 of a crowd of students — about two years after his 
 attack of apoplexy. 
 
 Every well-informed physician knows that epilepsy 
 after apoplexy usually makes short work with its vic- 
 tim — in two years commonly, or in three years. But 
 Cullen appeared to have shut his eyes to the sad real- 
 ities of his state ; for although he had several sub- 
 sequent fits at moderate intervals, he determined to 
 marry. But for once Cullen had been guided by 
 prudential considerations ; for his father-in-law was 
 a man of reputed wealth, extensive connections, great 
 influence, and in the Infirmary all-powerful as a man- 
 ager. Advantage was wisely taken of the last attri- 
 
128 cullen's marriage. 
 
 bute to effect the translation of Cullen from his office 
 of surgeon to that of physician, which had fallen 
 seasonably vacant. I stood, indeed, in his way as 
 a prior applicant, his senior in age, and as a physi- 
 cian, and with the prestige of a University professor. 
 The paternal manager got over this little difficulty by 
 splitting the office, and so both Cullen and I were 
 appointed ordinary physicians. I had no objection, 
 for there was ample work for both ; but we were no 
 longer les deux inseparables. On the occasion of his 
 marriage our friendship had undergone a severe trial, 
 and did not withstand it. 
 
 He had to insure his life for the benefit of his wife 
 and family — and heavily for a young man at the out- 
 set of Life. He referred to me as his medical adviser 
 and friend for a certificate of eligibility. I certified 
 that I knew nothing to detract from the value of his 
 life, except his notorious attack of apoplexy and his 
 fits, " of the nature of which I had not any personal 
 knowledge, never bavins; seen him in one." He ex- 
 pressed great surprise and disappointment, pressed 
 me very hard to alter the terms of mv certificate, said 
 gloomily that I had a much worse opinion of his case 
 than he had ever dreamt of, and at length worked 
 himself up to urge upon me that my opinion woidd 
 put an end to his marriage. But as I was satisfied 
 that a few years would end his life, I stood firm under 
 this cruel trial ; and we parted, coldly on his part 
 — and cold he remained ever afterwards. I had the 
 satisfaction, however, of learning immediately that I 
 was not only right, but likewise his best friend. For 
 
CULLEN S DEATH. 129 
 
 his principal trustee, who was also his agent, called 
 on me on the subject, got my unreserved opinion, 
 and, unlike Cullen himself, expressed great obligation 
 to me for my firmness and frankness, because he had 
 in vain tried to get at the bottom of " the fits " by 
 referring even to those medical men who had wit- 
 nessed them. " But now," added he, " the Insurance 
 Directors are warned. I shall tell them they must 
 take every means for satisfying themselves as to the 
 nature of these fits ; but that there must be no calling 
 of the insurance in question hereafter on the ground of 
 " information being withheld." The result was that 
 the physician of the Insurance Company — a pompous, 
 conceited, superficial man — himself certified the fits as 
 being of little or no moment ; and the proposal was 
 accepted for a merely nominal and trifling extra pre- 
 mium. Cullen had the folly to twit me with his 
 success ; and the marriage — which never had been 
 endangered, as his agent assured me, by this diffi- 
 culty — was carried through. But in about two years 
 more the Company had to pay £5000 to the marriage 
 trustees. Cullen died in a paroxysm, and Edinburgh 
 Medicine lost one of her most gifted and promising 
 sons. 
 
 Edward Turner, like myself a chief companion of 
 Cullen, possessed his quickness, liveliness, enthusiasm, 
 and assiduity, but also a gentleness of speech and 
 manners, an evenness of mind, and unselfish sweet- 
 ness of disposition, which were wanting in our com- 
 mon comrade, and which made Turner himself a 
 general favourite. He was born in Jamaica, of pure 
 
 VOL. I. I 
 
130 EDWARD TURNER. 
 
 English blood, eldest son of a prosperous island pro- 
 prietor there, in the thriving slavery days of our 
 West Indian colonies. In early boyhood he was 
 sent " home " to Bath. He was first taught at a 
 lady's school there, then transferred to the grammar- 
 school of the city, and next lost for a time in a 
 country medical apprenticeship, from which in three 
 years he emerged exactly as well informed, he used 
 to say, as when he entered upon it. Migrating to 
 London, he now spent two useful years at the Lon- 
 don hospitals ; and thence proceeded to Edinburgh, 
 where he studied for three years, and took his degree 
 along with me in 1819. His early defects in funda- 
 mental education, which had been great, were partly 
 made up here ; and he became so prominent at the 
 University, that he was appointed one of the presi- 
 dents of the Eoyal Medical Society — a post of honour 
 which at that time, and ever since, is very seldom 
 attained by any but the choicest of our students. 
 Without such distinction, and Cullen's influence with 
 the hospital managers, he would hardly have obtained 
 the appointment of Infirmary clerk. He joined the 
 Fever Hospital in that capacity along with me ; and 
 thus commenced an intimacy and intercourse which 
 never were broken for a day so long as he lived, 
 except by distance. 
 
 After graduating he settled at once in Bath as a 
 physician. But in a year's time his active mind tired 
 of the Httle he had to do professionally ; and in 
 August 1820 he accompanied Cullen and me in a 
 Farisian campaign. There he pursued at first chiefly 
 
TAKES TO CHEMISTRY. 131 
 
 physic, but also for the first time physics. The latter 
 study, and his weekly frequentation along with me of 
 the Institute, — where Ampere in electro-magnetism, 
 Magendie in physiology, and Pelletier and Caventou 
 in the proximate analysis of vegetables, were at the 
 time creating profound interest in their several re- 
 searches, — turned his heart from medicine to pure 
 science. Suddenly wheeling round from the worship 
 of iEsculapius to the priesthood of Hermes, Turner, 
 when we all separated in April 1821, proceeded, with 
 very little previous knowledge of chemistry, to culti- 
 vate mineral analysis with Stromeyer at Gottingen. 
 Here in two years he mastered chemical science, made 
 himself a good algebraist, and became one of the 
 foremost mineral analysts in Europe. 
 . Choosing teaching for his profession, and chem- 
 istry for his subject, he resolved, with my advice, to 
 commence in Edinburgh. He therefore collected 
 around him the remaining unsettled members of his 
 family — a clever boy, and four young, handsome, 
 and accomplished sisters ; and settled here in the 
 autumn of 1823. During the next four years he 
 delivered an annual course of lectures, taught ad- 
 vanced pupils practically, carried on various original 
 analyses of new minerals, conducted along with me 
 several experimental researches which were published 
 in our joint names, and brought out his ' Elements of 
 Chemistry ' — a work which went through six editions 
 in fifteen years, and during that time was admitted to 
 be the choicest in the English language, and unsur- 
 passed by any similar work in a Continental tongue. 
 
132 WILLIAM TURNER. 
 
 In consequence of this career of usefulness and dis- 
 tinction, the council of the newly founded London 
 University — afterwards University College, Lon- 
 don — had no difficulty in appointing him their first 
 professor of chemistry in 1827. His success was most 
 remarkable. Six years earlier I found the medical 
 students of St Bartholomew's School taking no in- 
 terest whatever in chemistry, and absolutely ignorant 
 of it. Six years later Turner had a class of 240 
 students ; and from that time chemistry became 
 a popular study at the medical schools of the 
 metropolis. 
 
 But while in full career towards high rank in the 
 history of British chemistry his health broke down 
 in 1834; his scientific labours came to an end; and, 
 after several deceitful visions of improvement, he died 
 in February 1837, in his forty-first year, of chronic in- 
 flammation of the stomach, ending in ulceration, death 
 being accelerated by an attack of epidemic influenza. 
 
 I have always feared that his Life was thus curtailed 
 by slow constitutional injury, the result of his con- 
 stantly working, both in Edinburgh and London, in 
 an ill- ventilated laboratory. 
 
 His brother, William Dutton Turner, another In- 
 firmary companion, also possessed excellent parts. 
 He was far from being an idle student. But he had 
 two mistresses besides physic — namely, music and 
 the noble art of self-defence. Fencing and sparring 
 were at that time fashionable with young men in 
 Edinburgh, and Bill Turner made himself an adept 
 in both. He w T as in figure very handsome, erect, 
 
HIS PASSION FOR MUSIC. 133 
 
 quick, pliant, six feet and half an inch in stature, 
 therefore three-quarters of an inch taller than myself. 
 In point of limb he was not so well proportioned as 
 in chest and arms. Hence, though he looked my 
 superior in muscle and strength, I could throw him 
 in wrestling, though with difficulty, and could easily 
 beat him in running, climbing, or leaping. But I 
 was a mere child in his hands with "the gloves." 
 For he was trained to perfection by George Roland, a 
 famous teacher ; while I gave up the noble art, be- 
 cause, though I learnt how to hit, my near-sighted- 
 ness, by preventing me from seeing my opponent's 
 eyes sharply, made warding a very uncertain perform 
 ance. Music became a downright passion with Bill 
 Turner. He had both a singing-master and a teacher 
 of the piano ; he found a place for a piano in his little 
 Infirmary cabin ; and he was perpetually heard sound- 
 ing either his instrument or voice, or both. He thus 
 made himself a fair tenor-singer, but it was invito, 
 Minerva, and with much time and hard labour. Not 
 long before he joined our Infirmary alliance, it was 
 accidentally discovered that I too could sing — that I 
 had a natural aptitude for music, inherited from my 
 mother; but that my voice was a basso-profondo, 
 therefore useful only in trio, quartett, or chorus. I 
 was enlisted, accordingly, into a little hospital glee- 
 party, one or two of whom besides Turner had been 
 trained under masters. Thus it came about that, 
 without tuition of any kind, even from my tutored 
 companions, with no discoverable effort, and with 
 very little consumption of time, I learnt to read off 
 
134 GEORGE STEDMAXX. 
 
 my parts, and became gradually a rather prominent 
 basso in certain small circles of musical Edinburgh. 
 This was the foundation of a pursuit which, whde I 
 never sacrificed to it professional or scientific study, 
 furnished ever afterwards a charming recreation, 
 and was also an introduction to many cordial and 
 delightful friendships. 
 
 Will Turner, a cheerful, sociable, amiable, clever 
 fellow, kept cprite clear of the dissipation into which 
 his pet amusements led away too many young men of 
 that day. But he spent too much time in train- 
 ing for them. Hence he had the mortification of 
 being remitted to his studies on undergoing his ex- 
 amination before the Medical Faculty. Thus he 
 gained the distinction of being the only one of our 
 set whom that fate befell. But he soon picked him- 
 self up, and graduated in 1820. Immediately after- 
 wards we sailed together for London, where we 
 parted — I for Paris, he to settle in Spanish Town, 
 Jamaica. He there became the leading physician, 
 gave up entirely music and sparring, and devoted 
 himself purely to medical practice and to money- 
 making. After many years he revisited this country 
 and Edinburgh — the same true gentleman as ever in 
 mind and manners, but a sedate senior, his briskness 
 and mirthful liveliness all gone the way of his boxing- 
 gloves and pianoforte. I heard little more of him 
 after his return to Jamaica until his death, which 
 took place there about 1860. 
 
 George William Stedmann. a very tall, fair, slim, 
 somewhat round-shouldered native of the island of 
 
DOUGLAS CAMERON. 135 
 
 St Thomas, Scandinavian by extraction, voluble, sen- 
 tentious, satirical, but kindly and good-bunioured, 
 and a clever student, was a general favourite in a 
 circle different from mine, but was also very mucb 
 in our Infirmary squad, through his intimacy with 
 Edward and William Turner. After graduating in 
 1821, he returned to his native isle, and settled there 
 as physician, but died in ten or twelve years, leaving 
 behind no trace of his early promise at the University. 
 George Douglas Cameron, younger brother of 
 William Cameron, my predecessor in office in the 
 Infirmary, was for many years the intimate com- 
 panion of my hours of exercise, gymnastics, and 
 amusements ; but he was never a professional associ- 
 ate, being three years behind me as a student. He 
 was a tallish, rather slender, handsomely formed, fair, 
 very sinewy fellow ; apt at all exercises ; a fair scholar, 
 not extensively read, but singularly prompt with all 
 he did know; cheery, witty, affable, and consequently 
 popular. Son of the minister of Kirknewton, who 
 left a family of five sons and two daughters very 
 poorly provided for — Douglas Cameron naturally held 
 the mathematical bursary of the Earl of Morton, 
 patron of his father's parish. But four years of study 
 under Professor Leslie did not make a mathematician 
 of him. He told me a characteristic trait of Leslie, 
 who had the reputation, not undeservedly, of look- 
 ing very sharply to all money matters. On joining 
 Leslie's class the third year, he told the professor this 
 was " the third time he had the honour," &c, &c, 
 knowing that in all classes it was customary that a 
 
136 JEAM CHARLES COIXDET. 
 
 third-year's student should pay no fee. " Oh ! very 
 glad, sir. But you hold the Morton Bursary for 
 the encouragement of the mathematics, don't you? 
 You have to pay your fee so long as you hold it." 
 And so the poor scholar, with a bursary of £11, 
 had to contribute four guineas annually for four 
 years to the professorial income of the Chair of 
 Mathematics in the University of Edinburgh. 
 
 After taking his degree in 1822, Cameron settled 
 in Liverpool, but in a very few years died of con- 
 sumption. The subsequent marriage of his youngest 
 sister with my twin-brother, Alexander, connected 
 our families together ; but I have seen very Httle 
 of the Camerons since his death. One only is now 
 alive (1875), the eldest sister, wife of Dr Sillar, who 
 has long resided near Sydenham Crystal Palace, and 
 is father of the inventor of the ABC scheme for 
 the purification of sewage water, and manufacture of 
 sewage manure. 
 
 The last I have to mention of my intimate and 
 most esteemed associates — the only one of those days 
 now (1875) living — was Jean Charles Coindet, son of 
 the discoverer of the medicinal virtues of iodine and 
 its compounds. The father, one of the many talented 
 natives of Switzerland who, for a long period after 
 the outbreak of the French revolutionary war, came 
 to study with us, carried off with him to his father- 
 land not only an Edinburgh degree, but likewise an 
 Edinburgh wife. Jean Charles, thus a Scoto-Helve- 
 tian — like most of my companions, tall, handsome, 
 and erect — was lightly made to look at, but muscular 
 
JEAN CHARLES COINDET. 137 
 
 and very strong, with small, yet manly, acute, lively 
 features, and curly dark- chestnut locks; easy and 
 agreeable in manners, highly educated, and possessed 
 of a complete command of English. Among other 
 accomplishments he had acquired a good knowledge 
 of music, and was consequently, in part, the means of 
 developing my small aptitude for that art. A certain 
 stately reserve, natural to foreigners of his nation, was 
 liable to be mistaken for haughtiness, and led even 
 such men as Cullen to misjudge and depreciate him. 
 But he and I have ever lived on the footing of the 
 most intimate, cordial, uninterrupted friendship, and 
 amid interchange of good offices. His discretion was 
 equal to his great abilities, so that on various occa- 
 sions I have profited by his opinion and advice. 
 None of my youthful associates appeared to me to 
 possess so many qualifications for success in life. 
 
 Coindet graduated along with me in 1819, after 
 which he repaired to Paris, where we met again for a 
 winter in 1820-21. He then settled in Geneva. But 
 in the end of 1822 he had to revisit Edinburgh 
 regarding family affairs arising from the recent death 
 of his mother. Out of our renewed intercourse on 
 that occasion originated our conjunct experimental 
 inquiry on poisoning with oxalic acid, in the course 
 of which I again had an opportunity of recognising 
 his ingenuity and shrewdness. Towards the close of 
 our work, Jean Charles was not so steady as at first in 
 his attendance at the experiment-room. It turned 
 out that he had been laying siege, by paternal 
 example, to an Edinburgh lady — a valid apology. 
 
1.5 JEAX CHARLES COIXDET. 
 
 With all bis astuteness and discretion, lie was a 
 " simple inflammable " if a clever girl was by to 
 kindle bim. In bis graduation days be was capti- 
 vated by a well-known, fascinating, intellectual Edin- 
 burgh beauty, wbo declined, however, to leave her 
 old father for a foreign land, — only, alas ! to be 
 swallowed up rather latish in life, after, it was said, 
 many more refusals, by a wealthy but in the end 
 sadly defaulting London alligator. 1 On the second 
 occasion my comrade was more successful ; not 
 this time with beauty to dazzle him, but a plain, 
 sbort, stoutisb, yet amiable and accomplished girl, 
 with whom pledges were interchanged. Dining out 
 one day soon after his departure homeward, I was 
 told the whole tale by my neighbour at table, a 
 married protectress of bis inamorata, with the further 
 intimation that he was to return in the autumn to 
 espouse her. I instantly turned sharp round to my 
 informant, and said firmly, " He will never come," 
 — and he never came. Oh fie, Jean Charles ! 
 
 " L'aura che tremola 
 Tra fronda e fronda. 
 L'onda che mormora 
 Tra sponda e sponda, 
 E meno instabile del vuostro cuor ! " 
 
 Coindet attained good medical rank at Geneva, 
 became physician to its lunatic asylum, and wrote 
 some useful papers on subjects connected with lunacy 
 
 1 Difference between "attorney" and" solicitor " = difference between 
 "crocodile " and " alligator." — Old English Proverb. 
 
JEAN CHARLES COINDET. 139 
 
 and sanitary statistics. But he did not win the dis- 
 tinction which his talents and early acquirements 
 entitled me to anticipate for him. I have heard that 
 his sense of superiority was not an element of 
 harmony and popularity in a township of the magni- 
 tude of Geneva. The Coindet balloon needed more 
 atmosphere to expand in. 
 
140 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 INFIRMARY LIFE. 
 
 PHYSICIAN'S CLERK DR JAMBS HAMILTON, SENIOR DR THOMAS 
 
 SPENS THE EPIDEMIC FEVER OF 1817-20 ITS THREE FORMS 
 
 ATTACKED WITH FEVER — SECOND ATTACK TREATMENT OF THE 
 
 EPIDEMIC COLD AFFUSION BLOOD-LETTING CHANGE OF TYPE 
 
 IN FEVER TREATMENT OF DYSENTERY BY OPIUM, AND OF 
 
 ACUTE INFLAMMATIONS BY OPIUM AFTER BLOOD-LETTING 
 
 BLOOD-LETTING IN ACUTE INFLAMMATIONS. 
 
 With such associates my hospital life passed most 
 agreeably and most profitabty. Commencing as Wil- 
 liam Cameron's substitute in the Infirmary, I served 
 there for six weeks under Dr Spens. Soon afterwards 
 I was appointed, along with Edward Turner, assist- 
 ant, or physician's clerk, when Queensberry House, 
 under Welsh for superintendent, was opened as a 
 fever hospital, on account of the extensive spread of 
 fever in the epidemic form among the working classes 
 of the city. The physicians were the ordinary physi- 
 cians of the Infirmary — Dr James Hamilton, senior, 
 and Dr Thomas Spens. I was attached to the latter. 
 Hamilton, then advanced in years, but wonderfully 
 vigorous, was well known for his work on Purgative 
 
DR JAMES HAMILTON, SEN., AND DR SPENS. 141 
 
 Medicines, by which he reformed, but over-reformed, 
 the intestinal neglects of his predecessors. He was 
 known still better in town as the last gentleman in 
 Edinburgh who adhered to the single-breasted coat, 
 breeches, and black-silk stockings, shoes and shoe- 
 buckles, ruffles and wrist-frills, and tri-cocked hat of 
 last century ; and a very handsome and picturesque 
 figure he was in this quaint costume. He was a 
 quick, lively humorist, singularly kind in heart and 
 manner, and a truly active practitioner. He placed 
 implicit faith in free blood-letting and profuse purging, 
 in the lifelong adhesion of syphilis to the constitution, 
 and the infallible necessity of mercury, course upon 
 course, for its cure. Mercurio-syphilis and mercurial 
 cachexy had no place in his nosology ; or if they 
 had, they were to be rooted out only by more mer- 
 cury. He seldom spoke without trope or joke. Im- 
 pelled by this necessity, he atoned for the gravity of 
 his book on Purgatives by sending to all his friends 
 who had it a too illustrative caricature etching, with 
 the motto underneath — 
 
 " Inveni portum . . . qui 
 iEque pauperibus prodest, locupletibus seque, 
 .ZEque neglectus pueris senibusque nocebit." 
 
 His colleague Spens, also not young, tall, slender, 
 modest, almost shy, extremely kindly, and a thorough 
 gentleman in manners and disposition, became much 
 attached to me, and gave me his entire confidence in 
 the treatment of his patients. He was a sound and 
 successful practitioner, full of resources, free from pre- 
 judice and hobbies, always open to correction by expe- 
 
142 EPIDEMIC FEVER OF 1817-20. 
 
 rience, and free to imbibe novelties or discovery, — a 
 physician of wider grasp than Hamilton. But his 
 retiring manners, the prominence of Gregory and 
 Hamilton in his younger days, and the distinction 
 afterwards of Abercrombie and Thomson, kept him 
 unjustly in the background on the field of Edin- 
 burgh practice. I know I learned much from him. 
 Especially I acquired, through the confidence he put 
 in me, that early reliance on myself as physician, and 
 that freedom, from all fear of responsibihty, already 
 mentioned, which have so greatly contributed to my 
 success and to my comfort ever since in important 
 professional conjunctures. 
 
 The fever of 1817-20 was the first which appears to 
 have attracted notice in Edinburgh as an epidemic. 
 It prevailed more or less in all great towns of the 
 British Islands, with the exception, it is said, of Bir- 
 mingham ; and it was supposed at the time to have 
 been the progeny of a bad fever which broke out in 
 the garrison towns of the Continent after their sieges 
 during the great Continental war in 1814. If so, the 
 epidemic changed its characters in travelling to us. 
 The Continental war-fever seems to have been partly 
 a bad form of typhus, and partly enteric typhus. Our 
 epidemic followed close upon the extremely defective 
 crop of 1816, and a long period of Httle employment 
 and defective food among the labouring classes in 1817; 
 and in the several outbreaks which have taken place 
 since, the same connection has always been manifest. 
 
 Three forms were easily recognisable. One was 
 that which now gets generally the name of relaps- 
 
VARIETIES OF THE FEVER. 143 
 
 ing fever, but for which I have never seen reason to 
 adopt any other name than the synocha of Cullen's nos- 
 ology. It was a pure fever, with intense reaction 
 of the circulation ; a very frequent, incompressible 
 pulse; high animal temperature, often so high as 
 107° Fahr. in my own observation ; great distress 
 from a sense of intense burning heat ; pungent heat 
 imparted to another's fingers ; incessant restlessness 
 and thirst ; not necessarily any local disease what- 
 ever; commencing with abrupt violence, ending 
 abruptly between the fifth and seventh days with 
 profuse perspiration, and for the most part, at least 
 in first attacks, returning on the fourteenth clay 
 with the same abruptness and violence, to termin- 
 ate for good in three days more — again abruptly, 
 and again by profuse critical sweating. This was 
 a form of fever entirely new to all living physi- 
 cians. But they did not, according to more recent 
 practice, salute, as a new and previously unknown 
 fever, what evidently ranged itself under Cullen's 
 definition of synocha. 
 
 The second form was a mild variety of typhus — 
 which I need not farther represent than by referring 
 to Cullen's definition and description of his " Typhus 
 mitior," a disease both before and since, to the present 
 day, a not unfamiliar acquaintance of every experi- 
 enced physician. In the epidemic of 1817-20, typhus 
 seldom put on its violent character, as described. by 
 the same author under the designation of " Typhus 
 gravior." My impression is, that I myself had charge 
 of only one case of that variety during the whole 
 
144 NO ENTERIC FEVER THEN. 
 
 presence of the epidemic ; at any rate, it occurred 
 rarely. 
 
 The third was intermediate in its characters be- 
 tween the two previous forms. For a week it was 
 ^distinguishable from the first form, or synocha. The 
 symptoms of high reaction then gradually yielded to 
 those of mild typhus, which continued till its close 
 by gradual subsidence, usually in fourteen or seven- 
 teen days. In short, this form put on exactly the 
 features of Cullen's synochus. It has been the rule 
 for recent writers on fever to ignore that Cullenian 
 species ; but during the epidemic of 1817-20, no phy- 
 sician could ignore its presence. There certainly it 
 was, in spite of the scepticism of " Young English 
 Physic," who is prone to believe only in what he him- 
 self has seen, and will not grant the like privilege to 
 his predecessors. 
 
 Of enteric typhus (typhoid fever) we saw nothing 
 then, nor for many years afterwards. If it might have 
 been overlooked during life, it could not have been 
 missed after death. For our dissections were many, 
 and, to meet the bias of the day for finding a local 
 anatomical cause for all fevers, every important organ 
 in the body was habitually looked to. Nevertheless 
 we were constantly met with the want of morbid ap- 
 pearances anywhere, unless slight signs of vascular 
 congestion in various membranous textures be con- 
 sidered such, — signs, however, which were probably 
 nothing else than the result of the manner of death, 
 by slow arrestment of the respiration under oppres- 
 sion of the brain. 
 
MY ATTACKS OF FEVER. 145 
 
 This interesting epidemic was one of my chief sub- 
 jects of observation and study for one-and-twenty 
 months, when I exchanged from the medical to the 
 surgical wards of the Infirmary. For five months of 
 that time, however, my observation was confined to 
 my own particular person, for I had in these twenty- 
 one months no fewer than three attacks of fever, each 
 keeping me off duty for six weeks or two months. 
 But these opportunities were by no means unprofit- 
 able or neglected. My form of fever was pure 
 synocha, in which the mental faculties were seldom 
 obscured. I could observe, as well as recollect ; and 
 thus I got valuable information, both as to the phe- 
 nomena of the disease and as a guide to treatment. 
 Most of my hospital associates were attacked — the 
 two Turners, indeed, alone escaped. To keep seven 
 offices supplied, twelve principals and deputies were 
 required ; there were seventeen cases of fever in two 
 years among these twelve, of whom five had it twice, 
 and I three times ; and all but one had synocha, that 
 one having rather severe typhus. 
 
 I had been scarcely three weeks at my post in the 
 fever hospital, when I was attacked suddenly — so 
 suddenly, that in half an hour I was utterly helpless 
 from prostration. I had nearly six days of the pri- 
 mary attack, then a week of comfort, repose, and 
 feebleness, and next the secondary attack, or relapse, 
 for three days more. My pulse rose to 160, and con- 
 tinued hard and incompressible even at that rate. 
 My temperature under the tongue was 107°. My 
 sense of heat was so great, that I suffered from it 
 
146 MY ATTACKS OF FEVER. 
 
 intensely, with only a sheet for covering, an open 
 window and opposite it an open door, and a current 
 blowing across me during hailstorms in a very un- 
 genial month of March. My restlessness was con- 
 stant : I even got out of bed for variety, and lay 
 upon the floor, which was put down by my friends to 
 the account of delirium. But delirium I had none, 
 till the crisis on the sixth day, after one of my medical 
 attendants, Mr George Bell, had asked me " Whether 
 I had been seeing any devils ? " He had not left me 
 Ions: before devils enough thrust through the bed- 
 curtains short tails and long noses, which I saluted 
 with imaginary whacks from an ideal cudgel, accom- 
 panying the visionary performance with remarks so 
 absurd, that my attendants had to quit the room to 
 let loose their laughter. The primary and secondary 
 stages ended, according to rule, abruptly by profuse 
 sweating, under which the pulse fell in four hours to 
 70 3 ; and I was left in elysium, which at first was 
 rendered doubly deHghtful by the great accompany- 
 ing prostration. At one period, when at the worst, I 
 could see that my kind and anxious master, Dr Spens, 
 as well as his aide-de-camp, George Bell, was much 
 alarmed at my state. But although I had accepted 
 Mr Bell's devils, I declined Dr Spens's prognostication; 
 and when they went away, I told my father that I 
 was sure they had given him an unfavourable report, 
 but that he must be under no concern, as I felt con- 
 fident I should get well. It is extraordinary, indeed, 
 that in my six fevers, five of synocha and one of 
 typhus, I never from first to last entertained any fear 
 
MY' ATTACKS OF FEVER. 147 
 
 of the result, but on the contrary felt sure of recovery. 
 How was this ? It has always been to me a mystery. 
 While convalescent, I was appointed successor to 
 William Cameron as Dr Spens's resident assistant in 
 the Infirmary. A majority of his patients were cases 
 of the same fever. Hence in two months I was again 
 seized, in August 1819, soon after graduating. With 
 my brother Alexander and Douglas Cameron I went 
 to spend part of my holidays in the west, first picking 
 up at Irvine Cameron's brother-in-law, Dr Sillar, and 
 then crossing from Ardrossan to Lamlash, in the 
 island of Arran. When half-way across, three days 
 after leaving the Infirmary, I was suddenly attacked 
 for the third time by my enemy. Possibly a long 
 and rather exhausting swim, the day before, had 
 something to do with the germs of fever taking effect. 
 We four swam out to the wreck of a large West India- 
 man, which had been lost on the coast under very mel- 
 ancholy circumstances. The distance proved greater 
 than it seemed. When we made more than three- 
 fourths of the way, Sillar, who was well in front with 
 me, suddenly confided to me that he was quite spent, 
 and could go no farther. This was a fearful shock tc 
 me, who had begun to think the wreck very far off. 
 But I bantered, encouraged, and constantly talked to 
 my companion, and swam very near him, and we 
 reached our destination. After running for some time 
 about the ship in a very warm sunshine day, we 
 returned more easily with a flowing tide. But it was 
 long before I recovered my natural heat. Whether 
 this adventure helped . or not, I was struck down 
 
148 AMUSING INCIDENT. 
 
 next forenoon in the Arran packet-boat so abruptly, 
 that, when we landed less tban an hour afterwards, I 
 could not walk a short distance to the inn at Lam- 
 lash without support on each side. The noisy pre- 
 parations for the Lamlash Sacrament drove us next 
 day to Brodick, my companions conveying me, as 
 their impedimenta, in a cart strewed with dried fern 
 instead of straw. During this journey of seven miles 
 I could lie quiet and in comparative comfort — an 
 illustration of Dr Jackson's observations on the ad- 
 vantage of " gestation in fevers " in the West Indies. 
 But on being housed and bedded in Brodick inn, my 
 torture from heat and restlessness was as great as in 
 my first attack. Next day I was transported in the 
 packet-boat to the mainland, where I was assiduously 
 watched by my companions in the hospitable residence 
 of Dr Sillar, and recovered as usual abruptly by pro- 
 fuse perspiration on the fifth day. There was no 
 return, or relapse, on this occasion. Neither was 
 there any when I was twice attacked in 1832. Never- 
 theless the fever was on every occasion the same with 
 the first in 1818, in every other character — a true 
 synocha. 
 
 I well remember a somewhat amusing incident on 
 our passage from Arran to Ardrossan, not very credit- 
 able to my western countrymen, but illustrating the 
 integrity of the faculties in this fever. I lay alone 
 on a mattress on the kttle cabin-floor, with the sky- 
 light removed for ventilation in very hot weather. 
 A number of people were on board, returning from 
 the Highland carnival of the Lamlash Sacrament-week, 
 
TREATMENT OF THE EPIDEMIC. 149 
 
 and were desirous of resuming their whisky carousals 
 in the cabin. For some time my companions persuaded 
 them not to disturb the sick man, but told me what 
 I might expect. Afterwards I was informed that the 
 wretches were fully determined to enjoy themselves 
 and their cabin-rights, but had again been prevailed 
 on to abstain by the kind remonstrances of a clergy- 
 man-passenger. By -and -by, I was told that they 
 had broken loose, become uproarious, and were quite 
 resolved to come below, and that I must make up my 
 mind to the tormenting companionship. " Can't you 
 tell them," said I, " that I am a young doctor from the 
 Edinburgh Infirmary, where I had caught the terri- 
 ble infectious fever raging there ? " My companions 
 had not thought of that argument, which was most 
 effectual. No attempt was made to intrude on me ; 
 and the fellows made ample room for me to pass as I 
 left the vessel. 
 
 When this epidemic broke out in 1817, two methods 
 of treating fever had been for many years accepted 
 generally in Britain — Cullen's method by nauseating 
 or diaphoretic doses of tartar-emetic, and that of 
 Currie by cold affusion. The former was in constant 
 use when I first entered upon office ; but, though 
 long persevered with through inveterate habit and 
 routine, I cannot say I ever saw it do any good in 
 our epidemic. The cold affusion was pushed to a 
 crucial trial in the University clinical wards by Dr 
 Home, who thought it useful. The form of fever, 
 indeed, seemed eminently suited for Currie's remedy, 
 the heat of the body was so intense. I was therefore 
 
150 BLOOD-LETTIXG IX FEVER. 
 
 much disappointed with the inefficacy of my experi- 
 ments with it under Dr Spens's directions. Neverthe- 
 less, in my own first attack, I insisted on a trial of 
 it, and it was applied twice in one day by my father, 
 who knew Currie, and believed in his remedy. On 
 each occasion I had hah an hour's rest and comfort, 
 but eventually no permanent benefit ; and the tem- 
 porary relief was dearly purchased at the cost of the 
 most agonising central headache it is possible to con- 
 ceive, arising at the moment of affusion. 
 
 While these remedies were losing credit, blood- 
 letting was coming into vogue ; and in no long time 
 it was employed universally and lavishly. It was 
 used as early as possible, and pushed until the ap- 
 proach of faintness, which seldom occurred till twentv 
 or four-and-twenty ounces of blood were withdrawn. 
 Not unfrequently it was repeated next day. Such 
 was the treatment in almost universal favour for 
 fifteen years. But in 1833 I observed a change come 
 over the main character of the fever — its stronglv 
 phlogistic type. No such change occurred in the 
 second great epidemic of 1827-29. In the less wide- 
 spread fevers, however, which ensued for some years 
 afterwards, the rate and force of the pulse, heat of 
 skin, and restlessness, became by degrees much less 
 violent, although the nervous prostration was greater ; 
 typhus formed a larger proportion of the cases, and 
 presented oftener its severe form ; and the loss of 
 blood, even in pure synocha, could not be sustained 
 as before, so that faintness came on even after only 
 five or six ounces were withdrawn. Accordinglv, I 
 
BLOOD-LETTING IN FEVER. 151 
 
 altogether gave up blood-lettiug in fever. Nor has it 
 ever been revived since. The simple reason is, that 
 although we have had two great epidemics since, in 
 1842-43 and 1847-48-49, consisting, as in the earlier 
 epidemics, of both typhus and synocha in its relaps- 
 ing form, there never has been again that high state 
 of inflammatory reaction of the circulation which for- 
 merly made the treatment by blood-letting useful 
 and practicable. It is in vain for recent authors 
 on fever, who never saw it with its early characters, 
 to say that blood-letting was a fashionable error, 
 and the doctrine of change of type a mere apology 
 to cover it. I have produced evidence, which no 
 opponent has ever attempted to shake, that in 1833 
 I recognised the change of type before adopting the 
 change of treatment. 
 
 Was free blood-letting, then, the right remedy for 
 the first two epidemics ? It gave great relief for some 
 hours, and often broke the force of the fever per- 
 manently. Crisis by sweat sometimes commenced 
 immediately after it, and was seldom delayed beyond 
 twenty-four hours, so that the duration of the fever 
 seemed to be shortened. We thought, too, that 
 in this way many cases were stopped as synocha, 
 which would otherwise have passed into synochus. 
 Even in typhus it seemed useful, by lessening the 
 cerebral oppression and other congestive symptoms. 
 There are fallacies, it must be confessed, in the way 
 of each of these conclusions. Still, on calm reflec- 
 tion, I think our inferences were sound. But at all 
 events, there is no ground for the modern notion, that 
 
152 HOSPITAL DUTIES. 
 
 permanent damage was done to the constitution by the 
 free shedding of blood in those fevers. Convalescence 
 went on as quickly, and was concluded as thoroughly, 
 in those who were bled as in those who were not so 
 treated. My companions in the end suffered nothing. 
 As for myself, I was bled first to 30 "ounces and next 
 day to 20 ounces in my first fever ; to 24 ounces in 
 my second ; and again to 24 ounces in my third, — all 
 in the course of eighteen months. But my constitu- 
 tional vigour was not in any degree impaired, so far 
 as I could discover. I retained the same strength, 
 swiftness, and endurance in all exercises as before 
 my fevers ; and I had no reason to complain of any 
 falling off in vigour or steadiness in any mental 
 pursuit. 
 
 The rule and practice in the hospital was for the 
 physician's assistant to go round his wards every 
 morning after breakfast, and ascertain the state of all 
 his patients before the physician's visit, and to pre- 
 scribe for them in cases of emergency ; to accompany 
 the physician at his daily visit at twelve o'clock, and 
 report in a journal, to his dictation, each patient's 
 condition and the treatment ordered ; to see the 
 treatment at once carried through in urgent circum- 
 stances, and to visit the wards carefully every even- 
 ing, taking an account of all new cases, and prescrib- 
 ing what appeared needful in any. We made also a 
 useful addition of our own, by agreeing that, when 
 any of us was out at a late party, he should make a 
 progress in the middle of the night through the whole 
 wards of the hospital, and see that the night-nurses 
 
TREATMENT OF DYSENTERY BY OPIUM. 153 
 
 were all awake at their posts. No training could be 
 more thorough ; and we added to its usefulness by 
 often meeting in the evening, two or more of us to- 
 gether, over important cases, to discuss the diagnosis 
 and treatment. 
 
 Among the numberless lessons thus received, the 
 most important were the treatment of dysentery by 
 opium, the non-mercurial treatment of syphilis, and 
 the cure of acute local inflammations by opium, given 
 immediately after free blood-letting. 
 
 The treatment of dysentery by opium alone, occurred 
 to myself from observing that, by the time my patients 
 came into the hospital, the discharges consisted of 
 morbid secretions only, and that, from dissection in 
 violent cases, Cullen was certainly wrong in adding to 
 his definition of this disease, " Retentis plerumque 
 faecibus alvinis." I afterwards, in the autumn of 
 1829, had an opportunity of applying this simple 
 treatment on an extensive scale. On that occasion 
 Edinburgh was visited, for the first and last time in 
 my professional life, by an acute dysentery of a very 
 malignant type. In three months eighty cases were 
 admitted into the Infirmary, and a fourth of them 
 died. About thirty-five came under my own care, 
 and I lost three only. I treated them all with two 
 grains of opium frequently, until symptoms of narcot- 
 ism began. With few exceptions, the success of this 
 simple and pleasant method was complete and prompt. 1 
 I have constantly employed it since, and with equal 
 satisfaction — giving up entirely the alternative use of 
 
 1 Edin. Med. and Surg. Journal, vol. xxxi. p. 217. 
 
154. OPIUM AFTER BLOOD-LETTIXG. 
 
 purgatives, generally practised in this country since 
 the recommendations of Sydenham. 
 
 To Hamilton I owe the next of my lessons — the 
 cure of acute inflammations by opium after blood- 
 letting. His own hospital-assistant, Mowbray Thom- 
 son, was seized one evening with symptoms of 
 irritation in the kidneys, for which he took a warm 
 bath. He got worse during the night, and next 
 morning he presented well-marked s3 r mptoms of acute 
 nephritis, with high fever. At twelve o'clock Dr 
 Hamilton saw him, and directed me to bleed him at 
 once to faintness, and to give forty-five drops of laud- 
 anum immediately afterwards. The loss of blood 
 gave him directly great relief; he fell asleep a few 
 minutes after taking the laudanum ; he slept, with 
 little intermission, for twelve hours ; and he awoke 
 free from all fever, and with no symptom of local 
 uneasiness remaining, except, in the region of the 
 kidneys, a slight sense of rawness, which gradually 
 wore away. I have often followed the same practice 
 in pleurisy, pneumonia, peritonitis, and acute rheu- 
 matism, with the same success, when resorted to 
 early. 
 
 It is well known, however, that at the time now 
 referred to — 1817-20 — and also for twenty years 
 afterwards, the remedy trusted to chiefly, and often 
 singly, for the cure of the acute inflammations, was 
 blood-letting. It was indeed prevalently employed in 
 all diseases, if attended with high reaction of the cir- 
 culation. For many years past, on the other hand, 
 blood-letting has been entirely given up in almost all 
 
CHANGE OF TYPE IN DISEASE. 155 
 
 these diseases, so that I question whether any man 
 xmder forty-five could now perform what is really a 
 rather nice operation to perform well. The present 
 generation of practitioners, indeed, have not only 
 given it up, but are constantly railing at their pre- 
 cursors for their blindness and destructiveness in ever 
 using it at all. My general answer is, that acute 
 local inflammations, during the first half of my life, 
 were attended with a violence of arterial action un- 
 known in the latter half ; and that this is the simple 
 reason why blood-letting was adopted in the early, 
 and abandoned in the later, period. The younger 
 race of physicians may follow their leaders by deny- 
 ing the occurrence of any such change in the consti- 
 tutional character of disease. But they can be no 
 fit judges, who were not practical observers of both 
 phases of the case ; and all my professional brethren 
 old enough to have seen both, agree with me that for 
 a long time past they have never met with such pulses, 
 for force and hardness, in pneumonia, pleurisy, nephri- 
 tis, rheumatism, &c, as they constantly encountered 
 in their early days. Moreover, how is it that at the 
 present time any attempt to bleed a patient with in- 
 flammation fails, through faintness coming on with 
 the loss of a few ounces of blood, while formerly we 
 took 20, 30, even 40 ounces before that object was 
 attained ? Why was it that these free evacuations 
 of blood were instantly followed by amazing relief, 
 often permanent, sometimes issuing in abrupt arrest- 
 ment of inflammation? Why was it that no ulti- 
 mate harm arose to the constitution ? I at least never 
 
156 TOLERANCE OF BLOOD-LETTING. 
 
 saw any, although I rigorously followed the rule to 
 bleed till faintness approached. Undoubtedly some 
 heedless men carried matters too far. I never, like 
 my colleague, Dr Graham, bled a patient to 72 
 ounces ! But I admit to having once bled a powerful 
 muscular negro to 50 ounces, for violent pneumonia ; 
 and, on recurrence of the symptoms in thirteen hours, 
 to 40 ounces more, with Dr Sjiens's concurrence. 
 This man, however, made a good recovery, and left 
 the hospital apparently no worse for all his loss of 
 vital fluid. One error was certainly not uncommon 
 — repeated blood-letting in the advanced stages of 
 acute inflammation. For my part, I soon learnt that 
 nauseating doses of tartar-emetic, or diaphoretic doses 
 with opium, were both more effectual and more safe, 
 when inflammation had continued for some days, and 
 above all, when the patient was exhausted by the 
 repeated loss of blood. 
 
 Here I leave the question to be settled by poster- 
 ity — when, in the revolution of time, they see cause 
 for making trial again of blood-letting in the acute 
 inflammations. 
 
157 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 GRADUATION ROYAL MEDICAL SOCIETY. 
 
 AWKWARD PRELUDE TO EXAMINATION EXAMINED BY GREGORY, 
 
 MONRO, AND RUTHERFORD A TURBULENT HIBERNIAN A TRIAL 
 
 FOR LIBEL IN THE ROYAL MEDICAL SOCIETY COMPARATIO 
 
 LITERABVM. 
 
 As 1819 wore on, it became time for me to prepare 
 for graduation. At that period three years of Uni- 
 versity attendance were sufficient ; but as I was in no 
 haste, I took four. I had not been an idle student at 
 any class, and my Infirmary pursuits gave me enor- 
 mous advantages. I went, nevertheless, to be polished 
 by a "grinder," — much for the same reason which 
 led me to treat my first fevers with tartar-emetic — 
 because everybody did it. But my excellent grinder, 
 Dr Peter Eeid, father of Dr Boswell Eeid, the chemist, 
 a good classical scholar, and accomplished gentleman, 
 honestly told me at my first lesson that his instruc- 
 tions were not necessary, and would not allow me to 
 go on. Plainly, indeed, examination must be on a 
 faulty system, if a diligent candidate, with such 
 superior opportunities of practical study as I had 
 
158 AWKWARD PRELUDE TO EXAMINATION". 
 
 enjoyed, could not satisfy the examiner without 
 aid from the grinder. I tried to " read up " too. 
 But, having got through one subject, on proceed- 
 ing to another the previous store seemed to me to 
 vanish ; and express reading was abandoned also. I 
 fear I became careless, and too secure ; for on the 
 Saturday before the Monday when I was to appear 
 before the Medical Faculty, I got leave of absence for 
 a day's walk with three companions to Rosslyn, Haw- 
 thornden, and Lasswade. We had a charming ex- 
 cursion in a glorious June day ; but we came to grief 
 near the end. One of my companions had imbibed 
 too much Lasswade ale at our rural dinner, and be- 
 came quarrelsome in his cups on the way home, 
 challenging every man to fight whom we met on 
 the road. 
 
 At last his challenge was accepted b}" a carter, more 
 tipsy than himself, whose wife was endeavouring to 
 lead him in the straight way. Unluckily this adven- 
 ture happened at the entrance to the village of 
 Liberton, whose natives, then a rascally set at the 
 best, at once joined the fray, and assailed us all indis- 
 criminately. We were well mauled, and would have 
 been treated cruelly but for the humane interposition 
 of the women. I was struck down by a heavy blow 
 on the outside of the left eye from one man, while 
 I was defending myself from the attack of another. 
 I took my bloody and dust-covered companions to 
 my Infirmary room, where they were well washed 
 and brushed into respectabifity before going home. 
 I then became alive to the horrors of my probable 
 
GREGORY EXAMINES ME. 159 
 
 appearance before my examiners on the following 
 Monday with a black eye. I therefore determined 
 to lie awake all night, with cold wet cloths constantly 
 over my bruise. I succeeded till morning approached, 
 when I dropped asleep. But instantly I started 
 broad awake, dreaming that I was before my examiners, 
 and that Dr Gregory's first cpiestion was — " Die mihi, 
 domine, unde venit hicce oculus cceruleus ? " I was 
 delighted to find, however, at dawn, that though 
 there was great stiffness, soreness, and tenderness 
 over the whole anterior temporal region, there was 
 little swelling and no discoloration. But I cannot 
 remember ever to have spent such a night of anxiety 
 and apprehension. 
 
 The custom then was for the Medical Faculty to 
 meet for the examinations successively at one another's 
 houses, and for the host to bear the chief brunt of the 
 duty. Dr Gregory examined me for an hour on the 
 anatomy, physiology, and diseases of the stomach — 
 their treatment, and the chemistry of some of the 
 remedies mentioned. I have not since heard so 
 masterly an examination — so thorough, and yet so 
 fair a scrutiny. Each of the five other professors 
 then put a few questions on desultory subjects. Of 
 these I recollect only Monro's and Rutherford's. 
 Monro chose for his subject concretions in the stomach. 
 Never having heard of such a thing, — I have never 
 met with a case of the kind, but once saw at a Medico- 
 Chirurgical Society meeting a large ball of human 
 hair which had been taken after death from the 
 stomach of a hysterical girl, — my answers were given 
 
160 EXAMINED BY MONRO AND RUTHERFORD. 
 
 from acquaintance with intestinal concretions, a 
 favourite study both of Dr Monro himself and of his 
 father. The Doctor was satisfied, although assuredly 
 no such concretion has ever been formed in the 
 stomach ; but as I knew intestinal concretions well, 
 my answers were accepted until he arrived at the 
 treatment. This I had to spin out of my own brain ; 
 and on being pushed by him for more remedies, I pro- 
 ceeded, with the aid of my old engineering propen- 
 sities, to invent an instrument for the extraction of 
 the offending intruders. Monro thereupon wound up 
 the dialogue by asking — " Vidistine unquam, domine, 
 tale instrumentum usitatum ? " To which I replied, 
 somewhat coolly, and in doubtful Latin, too — " Nee 
 vidi, nee audivi." Dr Rutherford, who followed last 
 of all, probably regarding me as too confident and 
 easy, resolved, as it seemed to me, to cool my conceit 
 with a subject very much out of a tyro's way. 
 Throwing botany aside, which it was said he never 
 cared for, he asked me the symptoms of the descent 
 of a calculus from the kidney. But fortune had fa- 
 voured me by presenting a characteristic case of the 
 kind about a fortnight before, so that I had the 
 needful answer at my finger-ends. 
 
 The subsequent acts of examination consisted of a 
 written commentary on an aphorism of Hippocrates, 
 a consultation on a case drawn up by a professor, and 
 the defence of a thesis. But as these exercises were 
 all written at home, they were actually often the com- 
 position of the candidate's grinder. Mine, however, 
 were all done by myself, and I even composed the 
 
GEEGORY ON STROUD'S THESIS. 161 
 
 Latin of my thesis, which indeed was never put into 
 English, and was merely purged of a few errors by 
 my father. 
 
 I do not recollect whether, on the graduation- day, 
 my thesis — which was on the epidemic fever of Edin- 
 burgh, and had at least the merit of being origi- 
 nal — received commendation or not. But I remem- 
 ber the reception which that of Dr Stroud on 
 gout met with from Gregory. Stroud, afterwards 
 a physician in moderate practice in London, was 
 a grave, formal Englishman, very prolix in con- 
 versation, and extremely addicted to punning. He 
 spent much time for two years in reading every 
 book upon gout which was to be found in the 
 Edinburgh libraries ; and he contrived to make his 
 thesis a condensation of them all, so that he could 
 quote them all as references. The analysis was in one 
 division of the treatise and the references were in 
 another. The candidates were curious to hear what 
 Stroud would get for his wonderful pains as a com- 
 piler — especially as gout was well known to be the 
 forte of his examiner ; but all that Gregory said, 
 after calling out " Domine Stroud," was, " Librum 
 scripsisti, domine, haud thesin." 
 
 The usual decorum of our graduation-day was dis- 
 turbed by a strange academical interlude. A tur- 
 bulent Hibernian, Sheil, chose the University hall, 
 and the morning when most of the candidates had 
 assembled for graduation, to assault with his cudgel 
 a little countryman of his own, Macarthy, on some 
 paltry quarrel. But Macarthy, a much less man than 
 
162 A TURBULENT HIBERNIAN. 
 
 his assailant, sprang upon Mm, twisted the shillelah 
 out of his hand, and belaboured him with it effectually. 
 Sheil's imprudent achievement having been brought 
 before the Senatus Academicus, his friends became 
 anxious to learn what was brewing for him, and nat- 
 urally applied to me for information. I was able to 
 assure them that unless the culprit was prepared for 
 expulsion from the University, he should at once an- 
 ticipate all farther proceedings by an idtroneous and 
 abject apology; and I warned them that expulsion 
 from one university would shut the door of every 
 other university against him. The apology was prof- 
 fered without delay, and accepted ; and so Sheil 
 escaped the just consequences of his great folly and 
 little valour. 
 
 In spite of his unpopularity, Shed once had honour 
 thrust upon him by the popidar voice in an odd way. 
 The four annual presidents of the Eoyal Medical 
 Society have always been the elite of the advanced 
 students and young graduates ; and, with few excep- 
 tions, they have distinguished themselves afterwards 
 in professional or scientific life. In 1819, the members, 
 about 150 in number, were much divided in opinion 
 at the election, on account of the number of able 
 candidates. Many, therefore, in order to secure the 
 success of three of their favourites, threw away their 
 fourth vote on some one who, they thought, had no 
 chance of being chosen. Such a man Was Sheil — a 
 clever debater in the Society, but rude and unscrupu- 
 lous, and therefore much disliked. To any one sur- 
 veying the company for the purpose, nobody would 
 
LAMPOON ON THE ROYAL MEDICAL SOCIETY. 163 
 
 appear so suitable for a sacrificed vote. But so many- 
 agreed in this conclusion that Sheil was returned 
 fourth president. 
 
 In the session of 1819-20 several able papers were 
 read in the Medical Society, and ably discussed. But 
 on the whole the members shone chiefly in the So- 
 ciety's private business. In that year a great occasion 
 arose for oratorical display. A clever poetical lam- 
 poon appeared on the library table, describing at 
 considerable length, in ludicrous colours and rather 
 libellous terms, one of the Society's most exciting 
 debates. The members were thereby thrown into a 
 great ferment, and much curiosity was felt as to the 
 authorship. All acknowledged the cleverness of the 
 production, and this induced the author in an unlucky 
 hour to print and publish it. The Society applied to 
 the Court of Session for an interdict against the 
 publisher, on the double ground that one of the 
 Society's fundamental laws prohibited the publica- 
 tion of its transactions without its consent, granted 
 by a resolution ; and that a lampoon, abounding in 
 falsehood and in matter amounting nearly to libel 
 against individuals, was injurious to the interests of 
 a body established for such purposes as the Koyal 
 Medical Society of Edinburgh. The Court granted 
 the interdict, and all unsold copies were delivered 
 up and destroyed. 
 
 At the same time traces of the authorship, ably 
 followed up, all centred on Thomas Haycraft, a silent 
 member, and not otherwise remarkable. He was 
 thereupon brought to trial before the Society for 
 
164 A TRIAL IN THE ROYAL MEDICAL SOCIETY. 
 
 breaking the law against publication. The chief 
 prosecutor was the senior president, Dr Stroud, 
 of gout-thesis memory, and the chief defender was 
 Dr Conolly, afterwards the able author on insanity, 
 and superintendent of Hanwell Asylum. Stroud's 
 charge, long and prosy, was nevertheless a good 
 specimen of close and convincing circumstantial evi- 
 dence. Conolly 's speech, too, was admirable as a 
 defence, and satisfied many. But he made one un- 
 lucky hit. It was strange, he said, that the prose- 
 cutor, who made much of the comparatio literarum 
 against the accused, had so little skill in handwrit- 
 ing as to have read the genuine signature of a letter 
 " T. Haycraffc" as "J. Haycraft," and had indicted 
 him under the name of John, while his actual Chris- 
 tian name was Thomas. I was no debater, because I 
 had joined the Society quite recently, and had a dread 
 of extempore speaking. But I got the signed letter 
 and the manuscript of the poem ; and I pointed out 
 that in the former the T was written exactly like a J, 
 and that every capital T in the poem was written 
 in precisely the same way. When the debate was 
 concluded, Stroud, who could easily see that the sense 
 of the Society was with him, offered, on the part of 
 the Prosecuting Committee, to abandon all further 
 proceedings if Haycraft would confess, apologise, and 
 do his best to suppress all further dissemination of 
 the poem. To the mortification of the kindly Stroud, 
 his proposal was greeted by Haycraft's friends with 
 derision and an outcry of unfair play, and, after a 
 brief consultation between him and Conolly, the 
 
COMPARATIO LITERARUM. 165 
 
 proffer was declined. The Society found Haycraft 
 guilty by a large majority. Stroud then renewed 
 his offer, even in these triumphant circumstances, 
 and though he was himself the chief object of the 
 lampoon. The offer was now accepted, and Haycraft 
 escaped expulsion — a nice question, however, arising, 
 whether, by the vote of guilty, he was not, in terms 
 of the Society's by-law, ipso facto expelled. 
 
 This was my first essay in the comparatio liter- 
 arum. My subsequent position as Professor of 
 Medical Jurisprudence led me to study this branch 
 of evidence more attentively, and with the light 
 thrown upon it by my elder brother and some of his 
 brethren of the Bar. I found that the members of 
 the Bar held such evidence cheap, and when unsup- 
 ported, worthless ; but that Solicitors and Writers to 
 the Signet attached great force to it. Long after- 
 wards, I had an excellent opportunity of seeing that 
 the former estimate is the more correct one, and that 
 great caution is necessary in taking resemblance as 
 proof of identity of handwriting. 
 
 The late Dr Skae, who acquired deserved reputation 
 as physician and administrator in the office of super- 
 intendent of our great lunatic asylum, was elected in 
 opposition to the full weight of a then dominant party 
 in the management. The treasurer, one of that party, 
 and who had long been virtual head of the managers 
 — an able official, but " a dour fellow " — could not 
 brook this disappointment, and seemed to take every 
 opportunity of finding Skae in the wrong. I, on the 
 contrary — notwithstanding that I too had voted for 
 
166 COMPARATIO LITERARUM. 
 
 Skae's antagonist — determined to support him after 
 his appointment, and was confirmed in this resolution 
 when I saw how he was set upon, and that he had to 
 contend against heavy odds. At last the treasurer 
 thought he had got Skae on the hip. An advertise- 
 ment appeared in a Dublin journal, bearing that the 
 daughter of the chaplain to the Asylum had died 
 there at a certain date. The newspaper was sent to 
 several officers of the Asylum, and to the chaplain 
 himself. The poor man being a bachelor was in great 
 dismay, and appealed to the treasurer for redress. 
 The treasurer wrote to the editor of the newspaper for 
 the MS., and having got it, recognised, as he thought, 
 the handwriting of Dr Skae. He then put the neces- 
 sary documents before a banker, an engraver, and a 
 skilled Writer to the Signet, all of whom agreed with 
 him as to the identity between the MS. of the adver- 
 tisement and Skae's undoubted handwriting. The 
 treasurer then put the matter before the House Com- 
 mittee, seven in number, of whom I was one. The 
 documents were handed round, and each member in 
 succession, including two Writers to the Signet, shook 
 his head and lamented that there appeared no doubt 
 of the identity. I came last in order, and was 
 shocked for a moment by the very great general 
 resemblance ; but after a minute's scrutiny, said I 
 was obHged to differ from them all ; that I had 
 been taught by eminent counsel to distrust the com- 
 paratio lite varum ; that Dr Skae's handwriting was 
 of a common sort, and that I had seen many similar 
 to it ; that the general resemblance did not hold in 
 
ITS VALUE TESTED. 167 
 
 particulars, because in the advertisement, two capitals, 
 D and E, were written quite differently from those in 
 Dr Skae's letters, and there were lesser differences in 
 some of the small letters also ; that the identity must 
 be complete to make out an effective comparatio ; 
 that I had such trust in Skae's character, as to believe 
 him incapable of so heartless, paltry, objectless a 
 trick ; and that we must find further evidence before 
 we could adopt any practical conclusion from the 
 manuscripts. A re-examination convinced most of 
 the managers, but not the treasurer, that I was right. 
 He asked me rather pettishly what further evidence 
 I could expect. " Excellent evidence," I replied, — 
 " that of Dr Skae himself." " What ! " said he ; " do 
 you think I am to go to Dr Skae and ask him if he 
 wrote that advertisement ? " " No," I rejoined ; " for 
 if you did, he would probably knock you down. But 
 the advertisement must have been written by some 
 one very familiar with the Asylum, so that Skae prob- 
 ably knows the handwriting. Say so to him, and ask 
 him whether he knows it." " No," said the treasurer ; 
 "I will not do so." "Oh, very well; give me the 
 advertisement, and I shall ask him." But the other 
 managers interposed, his own friends among the rest, 
 and told the treasurer they could see no reason why 
 he should not put such a question by authority of the 
 House Committee. He then consented. Skae knew 
 the handwriting at once, and pointed out the real 
 offender in a gentleman who had been till lately a 
 frequent visitor of the Asylum, but who had been 
 interdicted at Skae's own request. 
 
168 IMITATION OF SIGNATURES 
 
 As to the general question of the value of evidence 
 from the comparison of handwriting, all my experi- 
 ence shows the danger of trusting to it when unsup- 
 ported. In the first place, I have repeatedly met with 
 great natural resemblance in the handwritings of dif- 
 ferent men. But, w T hat is of more consequence, forgery 
 of handwriting is far more easy than most people will 
 believe. Once, in company — when, in reference to a 
 notorious trial for forgery which had been the subject 
 of general interest, several persons present, and 
 among them several lawyers, expressed their opinion 
 that their signatures could not be imitated — the late 
 Mr Lizars said that, to an engraver like himself, 
 nothing was easier, as he could show by imitating the 
 signatures of all round the table ; and I saw him 
 imitate them all with complete success. On a subse- 
 quent occasion, when I was dining with a large party 
 at Blackwood House, the residence in Nithsdale of the 
 late Mr William Copland of Colliston, the conversa- 
 tion turned upon the circumstances of a recent exten- 
 sive forgery; and our host, in the course of our 
 colloquy, said with emphasis he would defy any man 
 to forge his signature. As I have always been prone 
 to rebel against defiance, I did so on this occasion ; and 
 on returning in the evening to Dalswinton with Mr 
 Leny, whose guest I was, I asked him for a letter of 
 Copland's, to try my hand for the first time. The 
 imitation was declared to be perfect. Mr Leny then 
 proposed to me to try the more difficult mercantile 
 signature of our common friend, Mr Alexander 
 Maxwell, a Liverpool merchant and neighbouring 
 
AND HANDWRITING. 169 
 
 landed proprietor. I succeeded perfectly with that 
 also. At dinner next day at Dalswinton House, where 
 both gentlemen were present, both of them acknow- 
 ledged that the signatures were faultless. But Max- 
 well, a very shrewd man, added, " There's no doubt 
 it is my signature ; but I never signed my name 
 in the middle of a blank sheet of writing-paper." 
 
 So, too, on the occasion of the ■ scandal, 
 
 I made trial of the accuser's MS., which was rather 
 a remarkable one for ugliness and want of parallelism 
 — not easy, one would think, to imitate. Neverthe- 
 less I wrote fifteen lines of a letter so identical with 
 his handwriting, that I thought of showing it to him, 
 in order to convince him of his incaution in charging 
 a heinous offence on evidence of that sort. As I, 
 who had never tried such work before, could at once 
 do these things, how easy must it be for many to 
 forge the handwriting of those whose characters they 
 may wish to destroy ! 
 
170 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 INFIRMARY LIFE ENDS RESURRECTI0N1XG. 
 
 HOUSE-SURGEON SIB W. NEWBIGGING CONSERVATIVE SURGERY 
 
 MEDICAL KNIGHTHOODS SIR GEORGE BAXLINGALL RESURREC- 
 
 TIONING. 
 
 I must now return and wind up the history of my 
 Infirmary life. After graduating in 1819, I left the 
 hospital early in August for a month's holiday — 
 which, however, I spent in fever, as already told. 
 On my recovery, I became, by exchange with Dr 
 O'Brien, house-surgeon to Mr Newbigging, afterwards 
 Sir William Newbigging. There were then in the 
 Infirmary two surgeons, Messrs Gillespie and New- 
 bigging ; two assistant-surgeons, Messrs Wishart and 
 Joseph Bell ; and one consulting-surgeon, Professor 
 Russell. 
 
 Mr Newbigging, like all his colleagues a general 
 practitioner rather than a surgeon proper, was never- 
 theless an able surgeon and a good operator. He was 
 held, indeed, at that time to be the best operating 
 surgeon in Edinburgh next to Mr George Bell ; 
 though he and all others were destined to be soon 
 
A GRATEFUL POACHER. 171 
 
 totally eclipsed by Liston, who had already begun 
 to manifest his marvellous power in operative surgery. 
 During my nine months' service in the capacity of 
 house-surgeon, Newbigging had no fewer than seven 
 cases of operation for stone, all of them successful, and 
 two in unfavourable circumstances. One of the two 
 was a shattered, aged man, who had several calculi as 
 large as marbles, and a whole quarry besides of small 
 ones, which were carefully, but slowly, swept out with 
 the scoop. The other was a strong, short, Forfarshire 
 man, a poacher probably, who had a seven-ounce 
 hour-glass calculus, of which more than one-half was 
 firmly incased. Newbigging gradually cut the retain- 
 ing collar of membrane with his fore-finger nad, 
 liberated the stone from its setting, and extracted it, 
 not without employing considerable force. Neither of 
 these two men had a single troublesome symptom after- 
 wards, and both recovered well. The grateful poacher 
 subsequently sent me from the Loch of Forfar a pike 
 forty-eight inches in length, and twenty-seven pounds 
 in weight. Had I been then aware of the rarity of 
 such a monster, he would have been now represented 
 by a skeleton in the museum. But he was put into 
 the Infirmary cook's hands, by whom he was served up 
 as a plain-boiled fish, without appropriate sauce, so 
 that he was pronounced on all sides to be absolutely 
 uneatable. 
 
 I cannot say that I contracted either much respect 
 or great affection for the operative part of surgery. 
 Operations are at best the ultimum remedium of 
 the surgeon. In my time conservative surgery has 
 
172 CONSERVATIVE SURGERY. 
 
 encroached on operative surgery, and defrauded it of 
 many of its victims ; and this encroachment must go 
 on more and more with the advance of knowledge. 
 Conservative surgery, with its mainstay surgical 
 judgment, is more rarely met with in excellence 
 than operative dexterity. It will always command 
 high respect from all but the superficial, too easily 
 dazzled by the so-called brilliancy of operations. It 
 is the department of surgery which most richly 
 deserves the honour conveyed in the ancient statu- 
 tory declaration of the Emperor Frederick II. in 1260 : 
 " Chirurgia, quae est pars medicinse." It indeed 
 approaches pure physic so nearly that a physician 
 may acquire and practise it. The second Monro was 
 a physician and conservative surgeon. So was Pro- 
 fessor Eussell, sed longo intervallo. Monro has never 
 been spoken of as an operator, but he was a great 
 consulting-surgeon. 
 
 My favourite branch of surgery, therefore, was 
 conservative surgery. A house-surgeon, indeed, has 
 little opportunity of cultivating operative surgery, as 
 his province restricts him to minor operations only. 
 I took uncommon pains and much pleasure in ensur- 
 ing the healing of wounds " by the first intention," — 
 by clearing the surfaces carefully of blood, fitting 
 them nicely to one another, avoiding sutures when- 
 ever this seemed possible, and uuiting the lips by 
 numerous, narrow, adhesive straps, with very small 
 intervals to allow the escape of redundant serum. 
 I remember a young, fine-looking seaman, fresh from 
 a long voyao-e, being admitted into the Infirmary with 
 
SIR WILLIAM NEWBIGGING. 173 
 
 six long and deep gashes on his face, some of which 
 crossed each other, and a seventh on the upper part 
 of the neck, dangerously near important vessels. The 
 wounds had been inflicted by half-a-dozen ruffians, 
 who, without provocation, assailed him in the dusk 
 as he was returning to Leith from Musselburgh 
 races, threw him down, and brutally slashed him with 
 knives. Bleeding had ceased. I took nearly an hour 
 to bring the wounds all very close with narrow strips 
 of adhesive plaster, so that no defective contact was 
 left anywhere. The wounds all healed at once with- 
 out a trace of suppuration ; in five days there was 
 only a faint red line to denote the seat of each wound ; 
 and had the man's brutal assailants been caught and 
 tried, there is little doubt the traces of injury would 
 have been so obscure, that the offenders would easily 
 have got surgical witnesses to deny altogether the 
 severity of the wounds which had been received. 
 I have often found since that even deep cuts of the 
 fingers and hands may be similarly healed up with 
 certainty, so as to leave eventually scarcely any 
 mark, by means so simple as tissue-paper prepared 
 by spreading over it a strong solution of isinglass. 
 
 I could mention other instances of success in the 
 department of conservative surgery ; but these suc- 
 cesses never tempted me to become a surgeon. 
 
 My service with Mr Newbigging as house-surgeon 
 led to an intimate friendship with him, which lasted 
 as long as he lived. He belonged to the highest class 
 of general practitioners in the city — those who prac- 
 
174 MEDICAL KNIGHTHOODS. 
 
 tised physic and surgery as family medical attendants, 
 but not either pharmacy or midwifery. Edinburgh 
 has long been famous for this class of professional 
 men ; and Xewbigging was one of the best of them. 
 But he was wrong when he allowed himself to be 
 knighted. 
 
 It is odd that when the honour of knighthood has 
 been conferred on a medical man in Scotland, it has 
 been owing to some adventitious circumstance, and 
 not to professional distinction. Mr Xewbigging's case 
 was no exception. Highly respected as a medical 
 practitioner and citizen, he never contributed in any 
 shape to the advancement of medicine or surgery, and 
 his knighthood was the reward of the pohtical services 
 of a relative. I wish my professional brethren would 
 set their faces against these accidental knighthoods, 
 which are no credit to medicine, and create a differ- 
 ance in rank among ecpials without adequate reason. 
 At an early period I did my best to be a good ex- 
 ample. On the accession of King William IV., in 
 1830, a deputation from our Senatus Academicus 
 carried to London a University address to his Majesty. 
 It was customary to confer a knighthood on some 
 leading member of such a deputation. Principal 
 Baird, with whom Dr Monro was going, asked 
 me also to be one of the party, because he should 
 propose me as recipient of the honour, since Monro 
 declined to undergo the metamorphosis. I also de- 
 clined, because I held that no member of the medical 
 profession ought to accept a knighthood put in his 
 way in this accidental manner, or for anv other reason 
 
RESURRECTIONING. 175 
 
 than pure merit in medicine. Dr Ballingall, however, 
 desired a knighthood for its own sake, and thought 
 he should get it on the score of having been, during 
 his nine years of army service, assistant-surgeon in 
 the Duke of Kent's regiment. He went up willingly, 
 therefore, with the University address ; and Principal 
 Baird proffered his claim to Sir Robert Peel, then 
 Home Secretary. But Peel replied, " No, Mr Princi- 
 pal ! on the ground of eminence among your pro- 
 fessors solely, and on no other account." When 
 Ballingall returned as Sir George, much surprise arose 
 among his colleagues and other friends ; and when 
 Dr Baird told his story of the event, many expressed 
 their opinion that he had not been quite straightfor- 
 ward in his share of the transaction. 
 
 During my period of service in the Infirmary, 
 resurrectioning — the robbing of churchyards for sup- 
 plying the dissecting-rooms ■ — was carried on with 
 great vigour. The work was done so boldly as to 
 involve great risk of capture ; nevertheless no capture 
 was ever made. The resurrectionists in Edinburgh 
 were chiefly the assistants of the several teachers 
 of anatomy. With several of them I was well ac- 
 quainted ; so that I came to know the whole process, 
 and was told sundry startling exploits of the 
 adventurers. 
 
 The time chosen in the dark winter nights was, for 
 the town churchyards, from six to eight o'clock ; at 
 which latter hour the churchyard watch was set, 
 and the city police also commenced their night 
 
17G RESUR RECKONING. 
 
 rounds. A hole was dug down to the coffin only 
 where the head lay — a canvas sheet being stretched 
 around to receive the earth, and to prevent any of it 
 spoiling the smooth uniformity of the grass. The 
 digging was done with short, flat, dagger-shaped im- 
 plements of wood, to avoid the clicking noise of iron 
 striking stones. On reaching the coffin, two broad 
 iron hooks under the Hd, pulled forcibly up with a 
 rope, broke off a sufficient portion of the lid to allow 
 the body to be dragged out ; and sacking was heaped 
 over the whole to deaden the sound of the cracking- 
 wood. The body was stripped of the grave-clothes, 
 which were scrupulously buried again ; it was secured 
 in a sack ; and the surface of the ground was care- 
 fully restored to its original condition, — which was 
 not difficult, as the sod over a fresh-filled grave must 
 always present signs of recent disturbance. The 
 whole process could be completed in an hour, even 
 though the grave might be six feet deep, because the 
 soil was loose, and the digging was done impetuously 
 by frecpient relays of active men. Transference over 
 the churchyard wall was easy in a dark evening ; and 
 once in the street, the carrier of the sack drew no 
 attention at so early an hour. 
 
 Operations in the country were necessarily con- 
 ducted at a later hour. Certain country churchyards 
 were selected for the convenience of approach, and 
 their distance from houses. Although there was 
 more risk in such circumstances, owing to the neces- 
 sity of using a gig, and the inquiries that were apt to 
 take place at toll-bars, no one was ever caught. But 
 
RIVAL PARTIES. 177 
 
 narrow escapes were sometimes made. On one oc- 
 casion discovery took place at the moment when the 
 sack with its contents was hoisted beside the charioteer. 
 He instantly drove off, while the rest vanished in the 
 darkness in different directions. The charioteer had 
 three miles to drive. Thus he easily distanced his 
 pursuers, left no trace of his destination on reaching 
 town, deposited his booty in an undiscoverable 
 " sanctum," and disappeared with his horse and gig 
 before the hue and cry reached the outskirts of the 
 city. Subsequent search by the police proved unsuc- 
 cessful ; but the police were very inefficient in those, 
 days, — or perhaps their instructions were, not to be 
 too zealous. 
 
 So long as Dr Monro and Dr Barclay were the only 
 lecturers on anatomy, resurrectioning went on smooth- 
 ly, because each had by common consent his own ter- 
 ritories, on which the other did not encroach. But 
 when Liston also became an anatomical teacher, he 
 paid no regard to these prudent arrangements. Com- 
 petition thus arose ; and at last it was no uncommon 
 occurrence for one party to have a look-out-man 
 sitting on the churchyard wall in the dangerous 
 dusk, ready to drop down on the first appearance 
 of the rival party, and appropriate the grave by 
 striding across it. My hospital comrade, Mowbray 
 Thomson, had a risky encounter in this way. Though 
 his assistantship with Dr Barclay necessarily ceased 
 on his becoming an Infirmary Besident, he had so 
 great a passion for adventure, that he used to drop 
 from his window, scale the city wall which then 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
178 LISTON BAFFLED. 
 
 bounded the hospital grounds to the south, and join 
 his former companions in their unholy occupation. 
 On the occasion referred to, he was perched on the 
 churchyard wall as sentinel, when Liston hove in 
 sight with his assistants, and a notorious London 
 resurrectionist, Crouch, who had made the metropolis 
 too hot for him, and had been taken into Liston's pay 
 as an instructor during his rustication in Edinburgh. 
 Thomson jumped into the burying-ground, sat down 
 across the grave, stuck his digger into it, and when 
 the intruders followed him, claimed the grave as 
 his. Liston and Crouch first jeered him, and then 
 threatened to remove him by force. But, as they 
 drew near for the purpose, he presented a pistol in 
 the face of the foremost, and swore he would defend 
 himself to the uttermost. More altercation ensued, 
 during which succour to the weaker party arrived in 
 the shape of Thomson's companions. A general row 
 appeared imminent ; but Liston thought better of it, 
 and left the enemy in undisturbed possession of their 
 claim. 
 
 The rashness and haste consequent on the want of 
 a mutual understanding, occasioned repeated exposure 
 of the spoliation practised, both in town and countrv. 
 Stricter watch was therefore established, and resur- 
 rectioning became a more difficult and more unsafe 
 undertaking. The town authorities, however, did not 
 suspect that the work was done in the early evening, 
 and set their watch too late ; and in the lonely country 
 churchyards the watchmen were apt to be inefficient 
 through cowardice. William Cameron met with the 
 
A CHURCHYARD ADVENTURE. 179 
 
 following exciting illustration of this. He went, with 
 the necessary corps d'elite, to a lonely churchyard 
 seven miles from town, separated from the high- 
 way by a hedge, a hollow grass field, and the church- 
 yard wall. On arriving at the place, they observed 
 light issuing from the vestry window. A scout was 
 therefore sent across the field to reconnoitre. His 
 companions, by the light of a young moon, could see 
 him crawl across the grass, and stealthily raise his 
 head over the wall, when the vestry door opened, a 
 man stepped out in the bright light, a shot went off, 
 the scout dropped down motionless at the foot of the 
 wall, and the shooter retired within the vestry, and 
 shut the door. A cloud obscuring the moon, pre- 
 vented Cameron from recognising the state of mat- 
 ters. A consultation was held at the hedge whether 
 their comrade should be succoured ; and a second 
 scout was about to proceed towards him, when he 
 appeared at the other side of the hedge, laughing at 
 the issue of his adventure, and explaining that he 
 had merely ducked down to hide himself when the 
 watchman stepped forth to fire into vacuity. They 
 then remained quiet for half an hour, when the 
 same farce of firing was repeated, to frighten away 
 depredators, and satisfy the parish that watch was 
 faithfully kept. Taking advantage of the discovery 
 that the churchyard was never patrolled, the spoilers 
 entered it during an interval between the alarms ; 
 and as their object lay on the other side of the 
 church from the vestry, they carried on their opera- 
 tions, with a short interruption as firing-time came 
 
180 PROFESSIONAL BODY-SNATCHERS. 
 
 round, completed their work, and decamped with 
 their plunder. 
 
 Gradually the public became better informed, and 
 more effectual measures were taken to prevent graves 
 from being disturbed. 1 Iron bars were riveted over the 
 coffins, or the coffins were secured with iron guards 
 buried over them, which, in due time, could be re- 
 moved, but not without a key. The anatomists 
 were then reduced to supplying themselves from 
 London. But as the price of a body rose sometimes 
 to £20, the temptation at home was great ; so that 
 there arose in Edinburgh, as in London, a professional 
 corps called body-snatchers, consisting of a few of the 
 greatest scoundrels in the community. With such 
 men the passage was easy from stealing the dead to 
 murdering the living, in order to maintain their occu- 
 pation. Thus originated the horrid crimes of Burke 
 and Hare in Edinburgh, and of Williams in London. 
 The anatomists were then threatened with starvation, 
 when at last, in 1834, the Anatomy Act of Warburton 
 provided them with means without crime, relieved the 
 public mind from all anxiety, and put a stop finally 
 and entirely to resurrectioning and resurrectionists. 
 
 1 Numerous massive iron cages, presumably intended for protection 
 of family burial-grounds from resurrectionists, still remain in some of 
 the older city churchyards of Edinburgh. 
 
181 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 STUDY IN LONDON. 
 
 i leave edinburgh infirmary advantages of resident medi- 
 cal appointments there fall in love voyage to london 
 
 — st Bartholomew's hospital — become physician's pupil — 
 the medical staff inadequate medical service non- 
 regulation of pathological dissections defective medical 
 
 instruction surgery at st bartholomew's abernethy 
 
 lawrence — astley cooper death of my father. 
 
 In April 1820 my appointment as house - surgeon 
 came to an end, and I left the Infirmary. I did so 
 with great regret, and should have felt more, had not 
 several comrades left it about the same time. I look 
 back on this period of my life with much satisfaction. 
 All disagreeables have been forgotten amidst the re- 
 membrance of happy days, spent, with clever, attached 
 companions, in acquiring a vast fund of practical know- 
 ledge, as well as in pleasant recreations. I doubt 
 whether any other medical school offers such a union 
 of advantages as our resident Infirmary officers enjoy, 
 — ample materials for study ; able superiors, engaged 
 in teaching, and ever on a level with the times ; a 
 confidential position of much trust ; companions from 
 
182 RESOLVE TO VISIT LONDON AND PARIS. 
 
 the ablest students of a populous University ; mu- 
 seums and libraries freely open ; professors and others, 
 to whom it is a labour of love to foster diligence and 
 talent ; a city abounding with all sorts of rational 
 amusement ; and good society, easy of access. 
 
 As my appointed period of service drew towards a 
 close, it was resolved that I should have the advantage 
 of adding to my other excellent opportunities of pro- 
 fessional study a visit for a year or more to London and 
 Paris. I cannot say with whom this project origin- 
 ated — whether it was with myself or my father. My 
 impression is that it was proposed by my father, but 
 had been probably suggested by my elder brother, 
 John, who, as I had good reason to know in recent 
 times, from his widow, had, at an early period, de- 
 scried in me favourable prognostics, and began to take 
 active interest in doing what an elder brother could 
 towards enabling me to fulfil his expectations. More- 
 over, was it not an immemorial custom of my edu- 
 cated countrymen, of any tolerable condition, to add 
 to their Scotch grinding a little French polish ? 
 
 I left Edinburgh in May 1820, sailing on the 
 5th in one of the famous Leith smacks, the Match- 
 less. I quitted my home with a tumult of mingled 
 feelings, at the time very difficult to analyse. There 
 was the reluctance to exchange a body of attached 
 comrades and friends for a multitude of entire stran- 
 gers, — the parting with my family, all much attached 
 to one another ; with my noble father especially, vig- 
 orous indeed, but now sixty-nine, and recently escaped 
 from a most formidable illness ; with my twin-brother, 
 
I "COME out." 183 
 
 from whom I had never been separated for more than 
 a clay, and whom I could discern watching from the 
 pier-head my departure so long as my figure remained 
 distinguishable ; with my mother, who unsuccessfully 
 endeavoured to suppress her anxiety. On the other 
 hand, there was the prospect of adventure, — of seeing 
 lands, new and remarkable ; of making friends in a 
 country which had been so recently, so long, and so 
 bitterly our dangerous enemy ; of gratifying the 
 craving for an independent roaming life, which my 
 Highland excursions had engendered. 
 
 But I had also recently contracted a new tie, which 
 still farther distracted my thoughts, and tinted the 
 whole of my subsequent life. While residing in the 
 Infirmary, I began, for the first time, to be a good 
 deal in the young female society of the town — at din- 
 ners, concerts, and balls. In short, I " came out." I 
 was a shy fellow, however, towards the fair sex, be- 
 cause, having no sisters, I knew not their ways. This 
 drawback did not prevent me from secretly nourish- 
 ing sundry successive amourettes; but it prevented 
 me from making any of my charmers aware of her 
 success. At last, in the spring of 1820, Cupid taught 
 his pupil a very different lesson. 
 
 My father's family had been long intimate with the 
 family of a second cousin of my mother, Mr David 
 Brown, a retired St Petersburg merchant, owner and 
 occupier of the property in Lauriston on which was 
 built, in more recent times, the Merchants' Maiden 
 Hospital. 1 Dying while I was a boy, he left his widow 
 
 1 Now Watson's College, a day-school for boys. 
 
184 IX LOVE. 
 
 a comfortable income, and the charge of no less than 
 three sons and six daughters, the latter well known 
 in a wide circle of friends for good looks and fine 
 dispositions, and several of them for talent and 
 accomplishments. With the two youngest, Harriet 
 and Jemima, I had often amused myself, as with 
 lively clever children : for even the elder of them was 
 eight years my junior in age. During the greater 
 part of my Infirmary residence I had lost sight of 
 them. But on resuming my intimacy in their house 
 in the spring of 1820, I was suddenly struck with the 
 discovery that the elder of the two had passed into 
 the bloom of early alluring youth. Her countenance 
 was not more attractive than her intelligence, so 
 that I could not refrain from studying the surprising 
 change. At last, at an April dancing-party at her 
 mother's, while we were partners, we interchanged 
 sudden looks, which in a moment taught me that 
 Cupid's arrow is scarcely a figurative weapon, and 
 which also told me a flattering tale. 
 
 I would not venture even on the following summary 
 of an event, the details of which belong to what is 
 inviolable, were it not that the consecmences power- 
 fully affected my progress in life. 
 
 In the first instance, my conquest, or enchainment, 
 furnished a strong stimulus to exertion in one begin- 
 ning life, and depending on himself for establishment 
 in it ; and this I found during my now approach- 
 ing absence from home. But it soon began to appear 
 that the course of true love never runs smooth, in 
 ordinary affairs such as mine, any more than in a 
 
DIFFICULTIES. 185 
 
 drama or a novel. And indeed I have sometimes 
 thought that the history of our attachment, told 
 truly in its details, might furnish ample materials 
 for one of those minute domestic novels, which are so 
 much in vogue with both writers and readers of the 
 present day. There was, for example, a very youth- 
 ful cause of disturbance, a girl a few months under 
 fifteen, but three years beyond it in point of mind and 
 conduct ; a deep, intense, and overpowering attach- 
 ment, defying every obstacle ; soon a mutual pledge ; 
 and an early and long separation. Then there was 
 during my absence a treacherous but baffled agent-in- 
 ternuncio ; also an unsuccessful military siege ; evident 
 dissatisfaction on the part of both mothers, ere long 
 partners in widowhood. On the other hand, there 
 was no want of good friends, all, of course, of the sym- 
 pathetic tender sex, who held out encouragement 
 and could create opportunities ; by -and -by came an 
 estrangement, apparently complete, lasting for two 
 years and more, without any clear or sufficient rea- 
 son, expressed or even thoroughly understood — conse- 
 quently reqiiiring for reconcilement only the interven- 
 tion of some warm-hearted common friend, well aware 
 of all our history. Such a friend appeared upon the 
 scene, and then all estrangement came to an end. 
 Our attachment was resumed as intensely as ever, and 
 all the more easily and sincerely because it was broken 
 without reproaches or other rough terms on either 
 side ; and so our marriage took place eight years 
 after our first confession. 
 
 The vulgar saying, that "marriages are made in 
 
186 INCENTIVES TO EXERTION. 
 
 heaven," is liable to exception. To judge by the 
 issue, some marriages originate rather in the other 
 place. Providence surely directed mine : for although 
 the relatives of both parties looked at least coldly on 
 all previous passages in this act of our life's drama, 
 and although the numerous blood-relations of the bride 
 even remained aloof from the ceremony, all parties on 
 either side without exception in a very short time 
 came to be attached to us in close social intercourse, 
 and in cordial friendship and love. 
 
 I have said that as soon as this new relationship 
 arose, it proved at once a strong incentive to make 
 the most of my opportunities of study in London and 
 abroad. In the second place, the estrangement that 
 ensued two years later exerted an equal influence to 
 the same effect in far more critical circumstances. The 
 rupture took place soon after my induction as Professor 
 of Medical Jurisprudence in the end of February 1822. 
 At first the blow fell heavily and forebodingly upon me. 
 A sort of paralysis came over my energy, and even 
 my thoughts. But very soon a powerful revulsion suc- 
 ceeded. I saw that intense application to the work of 
 my professorship was no less a duty to my office, than 
 it would be the most effectual distraction from my 
 miseries. So I said to Medical Jurisprudence, — 
 
 " Come Furia disperata ti sapr6 perseguitar." 
 
 My University colleagues, and no one more than 
 my attached friend Dr Duncan, jun., urged me, 
 because the time for preparation before the month of 
 May was very short, to postpone my first course of 
 
VOYAGE TO LONDON. 187 
 
 lectures till the subsequent summer. But they knew 
 not the potent reason for my beginning at once, and 
 gave me a credit for my determination which I scarcely 
 deserved. The work I went through during the next 
 two years, in compiling my lectures and in carry- 
 ing on original experimental research, was very great ; 
 for to these ends I devoted my whole time and my 
 whole mind. The result was, that I saw I was evi- 
 dently " making my mark." 
 
 Should I have done this but for the interrupted 
 current in the course of my affections ? Should I have 
 attained this prompt success, had my time and my 
 thoughts been perpetually liable to be diverted from 
 the commanding claims of duty by the alluring claims of 
 love ? I do not know. But I can see now how wisely 
 Providence ruled my trials, as well as my successes, 
 for my own good, and that of others dependent on me. 
 
 But after this digression let me resume the regular 
 course of my narrative. On the voyage from Leith 
 we encountered perpetual head-winds and a heavy 
 sea, but with fine sunshine and a clear sky. Conse- 
 quently our vessel, which was of a class that no other 
 could beat under sail in such weather, took, neverthe- 
 less, eight days and nine nights before landing us at 
 St Katherine's Wharf, London. Byron, defining the 
 various antidotes to love, mentions various physical 
 troubles as being 
 
 " dangerous to his reign, 
 Sea-sickness, death." 
 
 But he says nothing of the opposite effect of the great 
 
188 GRAVESEND. 
 
 ocean on those fortunates who, like myself, are little 
 apt to undergo that sea-evil. The vast blue plain 
 on every side, the perpetual beautiful curve of the 
 horizon, the whistling of the wind through the 
 rigging, the " swish " of the surf across the vessel's 
 bows, her triumphant swing as she mounts over the 
 waves, the incorrigible idleness of a novice to a sea 
 life, all conspire to compel a ready surrender to 
 day-dreaming. My dreaming had no sea-sickness to 
 contend with ; time seemed unavailing to check it ; 
 and on the seventh day it withstood sudden reduction 
 to salt provisions and sea-biscuit. We had troops on 
 board, and in the cabin thirteen officers, young, yet 
 veterans in actual warfare, all proof, as well as myself, 
 against the sea, and all blessed with rare appetite and 
 sound digestion. Consequently it was no wonder that 
 even our well-found vessel ran short of fresh provi- 
 sions on so tedious a passage. But on nearing the 
 coast of Norfolk, the smack's boat was sent ashore for 
 a supply of fresh meat, eggs, and butter. At last we 
 arrived off Gravesend, but with the falling tide, so 
 that we had to He there several hours till it turned. 
 Landing, therefore, with some of my fellow-pas- 
 sengers, I ascended a height close by, on which there 
 was at that time a windmill and nothing else. 
 
 I never shall forget the view from the windmill-hill 
 of Gravesend. The weather, until the morning of my 
 leaving home, May 5th, had been very cold all spring 
 in Scotland, and consequently vegetation had not 
 begun there ; but balmy west winds set in that very 
 day, and the same change had taken place nearly a 
 
st Bartholomew's hospital. 189 
 
 week earlier in the south of England. Hence the 
 grey carpet of winter in the North was suddenly ex- 
 changed for the gorgeous vernal green of Kent and 
 Essex spread around me on all sides in the freshness 
 of a fortnight's growth. In truth my delight con- 
 tinued without abatement til] I was welcomed by 
 Cullen in the lodgings he had engaged for me beside 
 his own in Well-Yard, Little Britain — a puny row of 
 students' lodging-houses, which has since disappeared 
 to make way for city improvements. I then at once 
 awoke to the realities of my new life, and set about 
 turning my new position to the best account. This 
 was easy with the aid of Cullen, who had been six 
 months a surgical pupil at St Bartholomew's, was well 
 acquainted with Mr Lawrence, its assistant-surgeon, 
 and with both house-surgeons, and had served for 
 some time as prosector to Mr Abernethy, at that time 
 Lecturer on Anatomy and Surgery in the Hospital 
 School. My destination, however, was medicine, not 
 surgery. I was accordingly installed as physician's 
 pupil for a term of six months on payment of a fee 
 of sixteen guineas. But, alas for St Bartholomew's ! 
 the pupil found no teacher, and in the medical wards 
 much more to teach others than for himself to learn. 
 
 The medical service of St Bartholomew's Hospital 
 was, in my eyes, the oddest possible. Three physici- 
 ans— Drs Haworth, Boberts, and Powell — divided the 
 patients among them. Each went his complete rounds 
 once a-week only. On another clay he saw a crowd 
 of out-patients, new cases, — which were admitted only 
 on that occasion,— and any old cases in emergency. 
 
190 HOSPITAL STAFF. 
 
 In his absence his patients, as well as all those of his 
 two brother officers, were nominally under the care of 
 the very worthy and very little apothecary of the 
 hospital, Mr "Wheeler, who continued to wear the 
 attire of the apothecary of last century, and was 
 chiefly remarkable otherwise for his rare familiarity 
 with the writings of Hippocrates. In our occasional 
 controversial conversations he floored Oxon., Cantab., 
 and Edin. alike, by quoting long passages in the 
 Greek original from the Father of Physic, from whom 
 and his disciple we were glad to make our escape by 
 prompt assent. The patients, however, were really 
 under the care of such of the physicians' pupils as 
 considered themselves qualified to take in some meas- 
 ure the same charge as that committed to the resi- 
 dent physician-assistants in Edinburgh. These pupils 
 in the summer of 1820 were only three in number, — 
 Dr John Bamfielde Daniell, who afterwards settled at 
 Bristol, but died a good many years ago ; a little, 
 shy, quiet, diligent Cantab., whose name I do not 
 remember, and who never became one of our little 
 circle ; and myself. Dr Thomas "Watson, afterwards at 
 the head of the medical profession of England as Sir 
 Thomas Watson, Baronet, was on my arrival about to 
 leave the hospital and study at Edinburgh ; so that at 
 this time my acquaintance with him, which became 
 intimate later in life, lasted only a few days. 
 
 At St Bartholomew's it was the rule that surgical 
 students did not visit the medical wards, unless duly 
 entered as physicians' pupils also ; and it may be 
 easily understood that few would purchase that privi- 
 
HOSPITAL STAFF. 191 
 
 lege at the cost of sixteen guineas, after expending 
 the same sum for becoming pupils in the surgical de- 
 partment. But by use and wont physicians' pupils 
 were allowed to go freely into the surgical wards, and 
 I often took advantage of this privilege. Thus I 
 soon got intimate with Eichard Welbank and John J. 
 Ledsam, the house-surgeons : for there were resident 
 surgical-assistants, although, very oddly, no similar 
 medical officers. Ledsam was a short, dark, quick, 
 sharp-faced man, who became a general practitioner 
 in an English eastern county. Welbank was a rather 
 tall, fair-complexioned man, querulous in disposition, 
 retiring in manners, of cultivated mind, a delightful 
 companion, and a faithful friend. Not long after his 
 service in St Bartholomew's, he published a good 
 paper on the use of corrosives, especially nitric acid, 
 in the treatment of hospital gangrene ; and altogether 
 he displayed promising qualifications for success as a 
 London surgeon. But his success was far behind his 
 hopes and merits, owing to his quiet demeanour, and 
 instinctive dislike to the pushing practices generally 
 found most serviceable in the metropolis. He lived 
 in a quiet way, as a general practitioner, till 1870, 
 much esteemed by a circle of warm friends in the 
 highest class of London professional men. 
 
 In a short time Dr Boberts and Dr Haworth allowed 
 me to look after their patients, and do as I liked with 
 them. Not so Dr Powell, a big, boisterous man, who 
 talked loud, gave his orders peremptorily, and would 
 permit no interference in any circumstances. 
 
 I saw various instances of deplorable results from 
 
192 INADEQUATE HOSPITAL SERVICE. 
 
 the inadequate service in the medical department of 
 the hospital. One, which shocked my medico-chirur- 
 gical principles, I can still remember distinctly. I 
 was asked by one of the upper nurses (sisters) to look 
 at a man who had been three weeks in the hospital 
 with severe and obstinate " rheumatism" of the right 
 shoulder, for which the joint had been repeatedly 
 blistered in vain. On examining him, I found the 
 humerus completely anchylosed to the scapula, the 
 consequence of unsuspected inflammation of the inte- 
 rior of the joint, and produced, in all probability, be- 
 fore his admission. 
 
 The worst part of the hospital discipline at St Bar- 
 tholomew's was the regulation — or rather non-regula- 
 tion — of the pathological dissections. We had vast 
 opportunities for following that branch of professional 
 study : for many cases of organic disease were admitted 
 in their advanced stages ; Mr Stanley, the anatomical 
 demonstrator, was an ardent pathologist ; and leave 
 from the relatives of the deceased person was not, as 
 in Edinburgh, a necessary condition. There was, 
 therefore, usually a race between the relatives and 
 the students — the former to carry off the body intact, 
 the latter to dissect it. Thus dissection was apt to 
 be performed with indecent, sometimes with danger- 
 ous haste. It was no uncommon occurrence that, 
 when the operator proceeded with his work, the body 
 was sensibly warm, the limbs not yet rigid, the blood 
 in the great vessels fluid and coagulable. I remember 
 an occasion when Cullen commenced the dissection of 
 a man who had died suddenly one hour before, and 
 
DEFECTIVE INSTRUCTION. 193 
 
 when fluid blood gushed in abundance from the first 
 incision through the skin made in drawing his knife 
 from the upper to the lower end of the sternum in the 
 usual manner. Instantly I seized his wrist in great 
 alarm, and arrested his progress ; nor was I easily 
 persuaded to let him go on, when I saw the blood co- 
 agulate on the table exactly like living blood. 
 
 I never got reconciled to this summary, off-hand 
 procedure. I had not forgotten, and greatly pre- 
 ferred, the rule, which custom had made law, at the 
 Infirmary of Edinburgh, where no pathological in- 
 spection was performed till twenty-four hours after 
 death. On no occasion did I ever depart from that 
 rule whde I was resident medical or surgical officer, 
 or allow it to be violated when afterwards I was for 
 many years physician in the Infirmary. 
 
 It was a frequent subject of wonder to me, that so 
 little use was made of the medical wards of St Bar- 
 tholomew's for the purpose of instruction, and gener- 
 ally that education in medicine proper was almost 
 entirely neglected. While the medical students were 
 only three in number, and, indeed, being all graduates, 
 were no longer " pupils," though called so, the surgi- 
 cal students, amounting to several hundreds, never 
 entered a medical ward, and, though pupds in reality, 
 got no more information in medical practice than the 
 few crumbs they might pick up now and then during 
 the medical treatment of surgical cases. Nevertheless, 
 men with only this training were passed annually in 
 hundreds by the London College of Surgeons into the 
 ranks of the general practitioners of England. I could 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
194 PATHOLOGY NEGLECTED. 
 
 thus easily understand subsequently the superiority 
 of the general practitioners educated at Edinburgh, 
 where medicine proper held a prominent place in the 
 system of hospital instruction, the preference in which 
 they were held in England, and their success and 
 reputation, especially in most of the large English 
 county towns. Their credit, indeed, still subsists, 
 although the system of education has been altered 
 much for the better in the London hospitals. 
 
 I cannot recollect having got a single useful lesson 
 in the treatment of disease from the three physicians 
 of St Bartholomew's Hospital. But I had many op- 
 portunities of applying to practice the lessons in 
 treatment which I had learnt at home. The great 
 preponderance of chronic cases of organic visceral dis- 
 ease, the result of confining regular admission to one 
 day in the week, supplied also excellent means for 
 improving my experience in diagnosis ; and the same 
 circumstance furnished the dead -room with most 
 ample materials for pathological study. It may be 
 not undeserving of notice that, at this period of 
 ardent investigation in pathology, the epidemic in- 
 fluence appeared not to have reached the physicians 
 of St Bartholomew's. I never saw one of them at 
 a pathological dissection. Stanley, the demonstrator 
 of anatomy, afterwards surgeon of the hospital, was 
 indefatigable in his attendance ; but as for Doctors 
 Powell, Ha worth, and Roberts — well! requiescwnt 
 in pace ! They trusted the advancement of pathol- 
 ogy to the members of the hospital establishment 
 who were misnamed " physicians' pupils." There are 
 
ABERNETHY. 195 
 
 more objects than the Latin lucus named because 
 they are really the reverse of what their name 
 denotes. 
 
 Through the liberality of the surgical officers of St 
 Bartholomew's Hospital, I was able to pick up good 
 instruction in surgery from my occasional visits to 
 their wards. Abernethy and Vincent were the sur- 
 geons, Lawrence and Earle their assistant-surgeons ; 
 but all four seemed to be on independent service. 
 Abernethy, a very little man, but in figure and coun- 
 tenance uncommonly handsome, had not strength 
 enough to become a great operator. The diagnosis 
 and constitutional treatment of surgical diseases 
 were his favourite field of practice ; and in these 
 branches of consulting practice he was at this time 
 facile princeps among London surgeons. He was 
 an early cultivator of what is now aptly called 
 " conservative surgery." But I do not remember 
 that term as in use at the period in question ; and 
 the surgical tendency certainly was, to fly too pre- 
 cipitately to the knife and saw. That never was 
 Abernethy's fault. He was a good operator when 
 driven to operate ; but he disliked it. Cullen, who 
 was his anatomical assistant, told me he had seen 
 him in his retiring-room, after a severe operation, 
 with the big tears in his eyes, lamenting the possible 
 failure of what he had just been compelled to do by 
 dire necessity and surgical rule. His ratio medendi 
 was very simple. In all surgical diseases the di- 
 gestive organs are apt to get out of order — the 
 stomach, and the bowels, and the liver, but the liver 
 
196 LAWRENX'E. 
 
 at the root of all. Without sound digestion there can- 
 not be healthy nutrition, or, without that, vigorous 
 surgical reparation. Therefore the liver must be 
 stimulated by alterative doses of calomel and blue- 
 pill, the stomach by some bitter infusion, and the 
 bowels by a gentle saline aperient. This treatment, 
 combined with a rigorous dietary, was found to suit 
 excellently many London dyspeptics who had no sur- 
 gical complaints ; and consequently Abernethy's con- 
 sulting-room soon became that of a physician much 
 more than of a surgeon. Many tales were told me of 
 the eccentric, witty, and often rough way in which 
 he disposed of these patients, especially the great men 
 and ladies who showed a tendency to maintain their 
 greatness while putting themselves into his hands. 
 For Abernethy would admit of no other lord in his 
 consulting-room than himself. But the best of these 
 anecdotes are matters of history, and my hands are 
 full of other subjects. Lawrence, his assistant-sur- 
 geon, a tall, strong, fine-looking man, was fast attain- 
 ing the high place as a surgeon which, in a few years, 
 he occupied and long maintained. I never saw him 
 operate, but had at times occasion, in conversing 
 about his cases, to admire his acuteness and precision. 
 He thus, on one of these occasions, won over Cullen 
 and myself to his cause as disciples and believers. A 
 bis man had a large, vaguely defined tumour in the 
 inside and middle of his bulky, fleshy thigh. Cullen 
 pronounced the disease to be sub-fascial abscess, and 
 fluctuation to be recognisable. The two house- 
 surgeons denied the presence of fluctuation. I was 
 
ASTLEY COOPER. 197 
 
 asked to add my opinion. I clearly felt very deep- 
 seated fluctuation, and maintained with Cullen the 
 necessity of opening the abscess. The question was 
 stated to Lawrence the same day at his visit; who, 
 after deliberate examination, called for his bistoury, 
 and with one deep, unsuccessful plunge, and then 
 another still deeper, let out sixteen ounces of puru- 
 lent matter. 1 
 
 The great surgical luminary of London at this time 
 was of course Astley Cooper, of the hospital-school of 
 Guy's and St Thomas's. Thither it behoved us to re- 
 sort, in order to grasp the idea which we had formed 
 of a great operating surgeon. I cannot say we were 
 fortunate. The operator was Travers, and Cooper was 
 assistant. The operation proved to be the removal, 
 from an old woman's temple, of a tumour as big as a 
 small fist, and uncertain in nature. It was gener- 
 ally thought aneurismal. But a lancet, thrust deep 
 into its substance, bled it a little only. A cross 
 incision being then made, and the skin dissected back 
 on each side, the tumour was seen to be fungoid. 
 Cooper declared decidedly that it arose from the 
 diploe' between the tables of the temporal bone, and 
 had subsequently produced absorption of the bone. 
 I was informed, however, by several bystanders, who 
 had an opportunity of examining the parts, that the 
 finger could be passed between the tumour and the 
 bone into the cavity of the skull, and that in all prob- 
 
 1 I have frequently beard my father tell that, when the first incision 
 failed, he set his teeth hard and growled in an undertone, " A little 
 deeper, Mr Lawrence." — J. C. 
 
198 A TRYING CASE. 
 
 ability the tumour arose from the dura-mater. A 
 disputation concerning its nature was carried on — very 
 unfittingly, I thought — across the old woman's head 
 by the two surgeons. Cooper described the whole case 
 aloud to the students ; and the sufferer was sent back 
 to her ward with the assurance — that her tumour 
 would be sliced afterwards. This operation was 
 analogous to the first I ever witnessed. A man in 
 the surgical wards of our Infirmary had a very large, 
 round, and flat tumour, unequivocally fungoid, occu- 
 pying part of the occipital, frontal, and both parietal 
 regions of the scalp, and thus covering a full fourth 
 part of the whole skull. The surgeons supposed the 
 morbid structure was confined to the scalp, and de- 
 termined to remove it. Speedily it was found, in the 
 course of the operation, that the bone beneath had 
 extensively disappeared. One opinion was, that the 
 tumour had arisen from the dura-mater ; another, 
 that it was rooted in the brain itself. Unlike Cooper 
 and Travers, the surgeons did not put off the slicing 
 of the tumour, but levelled it at once. It refused, 
 however, to submit to such restriction ; cerebriform 
 matter steadily welled out through the great aperture 
 in the skull ; and of course the man died in a few 
 days. The horrid spectacle was a severe trial for a 
 new-fledged student of operative surgery ; and it was 
 only by exercising strong determination that I escaped 
 fainting. But the two preceding cases, with not a 
 few others since, have long ago convinced me that 
 operative surgery is a far more uncertain art than 
 its votaries maintain, or the public have been led to 
 
MRS SOMERVILLE. 199 
 
 imagine ; that it is no more, as the Emperor Frederic 
 II. described it in the thirteenth century, than " pars 
 medicinse " ; and that he might justly have added 
 " etiam ejus opprobrium," — when not conservative. 
 
 On the occasion of a visit to the Southwark hos- 
 pitals, I heard an obstetrical lecture by Dr B— — , 
 who was at this time one of the most popular of the 
 medical lecturers in London. But I was unable to see 
 just grounds for such reputation. The worst character 
 of this lecture was its shocking indecency without 
 any qualifying wit, together with a spurious learning 
 founded on much quotation from authorities of little 
 or no weight ; and the whole was delivered with a 
 flippant fluency, which I thought a very bad example to 
 be held up for the guidance and imitation of students. 
 It was a complete puzzle to me how the same class of 
 young men should tolerate such lecturing, and at the 
 same time admire the pure thoughts, sound reason- 
 ing, beautiful language, and noble delivery of John 
 Abernethy. 
 
 Through means of Cullen I made the acquaint- 
 ance of Abernethy, Lawrence, and Stanley, and 
 my friendship with the last two continued to the 
 close of their lives. Through Somerville, my 
 Infirmary companion, I became acquainted with 
 his father, physician of Chelsea Hospital, and 
 with that gentleman's celebrated mathematical wife, 
 from both of whom I received much kind atten- 
 tion. I had no opportunity of perceiving that she 
 had mathematical genius, however, for mathematics 
 never was the subject of conversation : she appeared 
 
200 DEATH OF MY FATHER. 
 
 simply the polished, highly accomplished, unaffected 
 lady of her household. I likewise renewed my inti- 
 macy with Dr and Mrs Tweedie, who had left Edin- 
 burgh a few years before to settle in London. Mrs 
 Tweedie, quondam Hannah Brown, my contem- 
 porary among the six fair daughters of Lauriston 
 Lane, and the frequent dancing-school partner of my 
 boyhood, — though unaware of the new tie created 
 between us by her young sister, — was, with her hus- 
 band, most kind in giving me opportunities for re- 
 lieving my student-solitude. Thus, with occasional 
 visits to the sights of London, my hospital pursuits, 
 and the companionship of the witty, talkative Cullen, 
 my days flew by fast and happdy. 
 
 But towards the end of June I was summoned to 
 what proved the deathbed of my father. I travelled 
 north by the mail-coach, day and night, — a most 
 exhausting journey, — starting at 8 p.m. of the 22d, 
 and arriving at Edinburgh at 4 a.m. of the 25th, but 
 only in time to see him expire, without his being 
 conscious of my presence. 
 
 This was the first felt blow which Death had dealt 
 me. I had not yet lost a single friend, or any rela- 
 tive with whom I had enjoyed any social intercourse. 
 Nevertheless, the blow did not fall so hard as I anti- 
 cipated from the noble character of my father, his 
 evident strong attachment, and the constant interest 
 he had taken in my studies — an interest so great in 
 his own favourite branch, the higher mathematics, 
 that he made of me almost a fellow-student ; for 
 his figure, carriage, and gait, his countenance and its 
 
REFLECTIONS. 201 
 
 varying expression in conversation, his very mind, 
 were all so impressed on me, that they seemed, as 
 it were, ever with me or within call. Time, which 
 tries all things, has tested me for a term fast ap- 
 proaching to sixty years, but has left that inward 
 feeling unblunted. When my father left this life, I 
 could well have said of him — ■ 
 
 " Questi ehe mai da me non fia diviso." 
 
>02 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 SECOND VOYAGE TO LONDON BRIGHTON TO DIEPPE FIRST IMPRES- 
 SIONS OF FRANCE DILIGENCE CELERIFERE THE PALAIS ROYAL 
 
 A USEFUL HINT IN THE THEATRE FRANCAIS LESSONS IN 
 
 FRENCH AND DANCING FRENCH " VICTORIES " FRENCH SOL- 
 DIERS MORTUARY SERVICE MARS, GEORGES, AND TALMA 
 
 INTRODUCTIONS AN HEIR TO THE BOURBONS. 
 
 The natural result of this break in our little house- 
 hold would have been a termination to the training 
 on which I had entered ; for though my father's in- 
 come was good, and could have stood the cost well, 
 the patrimony he left me was very small. But my 
 brother John, who had begun to make way at the 
 Bar, and who must have had firm faith in my destiny, 
 at once decided that the course settled for me by my 
 father should be followed out, and that the necessary 
 outlay should be provided for, before the equal division 
 of his property between his three sons. 
 
 So it was resolved that in August I should set off 
 again for London on the way to Paris. But there 
 was another hard blow awaiting me before my de- 
 parture. A few days previously, she who was the 
 chief spring and ruler of my life, urged that our 
 
VOYAGE TO LONDON. 203 
 
 attachment should now be avowed to her mother. 
 I assented because I anticipated no difficulty, as 
 both of us thought that her mother had seen through 
 our secret. But, to my discomfiture, she appeared to 
 be taken completely by surprise ; and at once, though 
 in kindly terms and manner, declined to assent to 
 any intercommunication during my absence, that 
 might imply her sanction. I pleaded hard for a milder 
 sentence, but in vain. The only concession I got was 
 a spontaneous remark at the end, in return for my 
 exacted promise not to attempt correspondence — 
 " When you come back, I may be glad to see you 
 again." There was no help for me, therefore, but to 
 provide indirect means, by which each might know 
 something of what the other was doing, without in- 
 fringing Mrs Brown's prohibition — and for securing 
 this much we had common friends enough. 
 
 On August 3d, William Turner and I left Leith 
 Harbour at 9 a.m., in the smack Matchless — J for 
 the second time— under the skilful command of Cap- 
 tain Ord, and his fat jolly mate. The weather was 
 at first calm and rainy, and our progress was conse- 
 quently slow. But at last a favourable breeze carried 
 us as far as Yarmouth Boads. Here we were brought 
 to anchor on the evening of the 5th by a contrary 
 south-westerly gale ; for the long narrow channel of 
 the roadstead between sunken sandbanks rendered 
 tacking against a head wind dangerous at night, and 
 indeed, as we saw, very sharp work even in the day- 
 time. Before nightfall I counted 120 sail which were 
 thus brought to anchor around us. All that evening 
 
204 THE PASSENGERS. 
 
 and most of the night we had a trying experience, 
 from the constant rearing, plunging, tugging, and 
 rolling of the ship at anchor in a heavy sea. Turner 
 was taken very ill ; most of our fellow - passengers 
 were little better ; but I alone, to my own surprise 
 and the envy of my mates, kept head, legs, and 
 stomach sound ; and of me alone it could be said, 
 " e su la prora cantando va," In the morning the 
 gale moderated ; we resumed our course, and, with 
 almost perpetual tacking, we reached London on the 
 8th at mid-day. We had no other remarkable ad- 
 venture of the nautical kind, except that in ascend- 
 ing the Thames, while a man was dropped astern in 
 the ship's boat, the boat was swamped in a strong 
 current, and the man swept out. A momentary sense 
 of painful horror was instantaneously succeeded by 
 a mirthful feeling, when I saw that he was a good 
 swimmer ; for I remembered once, in somewhat 
 similar circumstances, while swimming with all un- 
 clothes and my hat on, having been the subject of 
 merriment to unsynipathising comrades. 
 
 Our party of passengers was a mixed but agree- 
 able one, — three other doctors of medicine, like W, 
 Turner, newly capped, viz., two humorous young Irish- 
 men, Crawford and Corban, and a grave, middle-aged 
 Englishman, Burton — an intelligent, hard-favoured, 
 keen-eyed man, much refined by long service as a 
 military surgeon ; also Scketky, 1 drawing-master at 
 
 1 Schetky, who became marine painter in ordinary to the Queen, 
 lived to a great age : a sketch of his life was written by his daughter, 
 under the title of ' Ninety Years of Work and Play.' 
 
MUSIC UNDER DIFFICULTIES. 205' 
 
 Portsmouth Naval Academy, and brother of a clever 
 military medical officer well known to me ; a very 
 fine-looking spirited boy, Fergusson, 1 grandson of Ad- 
 miral Viscount Duncan, on his way to enter the navy 
 as a midshipman ; two Sandhurst cadets, who seemed 
 to think we were much edified by their relating how 
 often they had narrowly escaped expulsion from col- 
 lege ; a most original Devonshire horse-jockey, who 
 amused us greatly with his horsey stories, especially 
 after a friend he met on board filled him half-seas 
 over ; a real Cockney baker and his father, plump, 
 shining, strongly developed in the animal regions of 
 the brain, and promoted at dinner-time from the 
 forecastle to the cabin, to play an excellent knife and 
 fork with up-turned sleeves, yet also diverting people 
 at other times as pattern specimens from the land of 
 Cockaigne. There were likewise a few nondescripts. 
 
 We had not been long together when we dis- 
 covered that we were a fortuitous congregation of 
 musical atoms, which soon arranged themselves in 
 harmony. Schetky played excellently Turner's vio- 
 loncello, Corban played the violin fairly, Crawford the 
 flute well ; and Schetky, Turner, and I found no end 
 of trios for tenor, counter-tenor, and bass. Time 
 passed thus very agreeably in spite of baffling breezes, 
 to the high approbation of the ship's company and the 
 steerage passengers, and under the frequent applause 
 of the many vessels which we passed near enough to 
 be within hearing. But, if the whole truth must be 
 
 1 Adam Duncan Fergusson, eldest son of Sir James Fergusson, Bart, 
 of Kilkerran, died 1843. 
 
206 UP THE THAMES. 
 
 told, the harmony of sweet sounds was apt to be 
 frequently and abruptly interrupted by the nautical 
 qualms of Turner and Crawford ; and we had the ill- 
 luck, in our fat mate's, estimation, to stir up the storm 
 of the 5th in Yarmouth roadstead. 
 
 The ascent of the Thames is an enchanting scene 
 in such fine sunshine as we had the good fortune to 
 carry with us. We passed among an endless succes- 
 sion of vessels of every denomination, and sometimes 
 saw a grand man-of-war under full sail. The country 
 before and behind seemed quite studded with masts ; 
 and the adjacent banks were beautifully decorated 
 with corn-fields and woods, villas, villages, and towns, 
 appearing, vanishing, and reappearing in a new aspect 
 with the windings of the river. Of the towns the 
 finest are Woolwich and Greenwich ; and the Green- 
 wich Hospital, once a palace, seemed to me, as beheld 
 from the deck of our vessel, the finest public building 
 I had ever seen. Near the East India Docks we passed 
 that very dubious element of the picturesque, the re- 
 mains of some pirates hanging in chains from tall 
 gibbets erected on the sandbanks. It was told us that 
 civilisation was determining not to bear such disgust- 
 ing exhibitions much longer. A scene, which we 
 witnessed frequently on arriving among the black- 
 diamond vessels, appeared to me to belong to the 
 same unlovely branch of the picturesque. In un- 
 loading the colliers, a gang of four coal-heavers — tall 
 massive men, stripped to the skin far below the waist, 
 begrimed with sweat and coal-dust — climbed together 
 upon a scaffold, and at a signal sprang down simul- 
 
STAET FOR PAKIS. 207 
 
 taneously and disappeared, each holding by a rope above 
 his head attached to a bar like the gallows. They 
 appeared exactly as if they were so many villains 
 launched together into eternity. Presently, how- 
 ever, they reascended, to go through the same exhi- 
 bition. Extremely hard work it seemed, — supported, 
 it is said, mainly on unlimited porter. 
 
 I rejoined Cullen in London, where we spent our 
 time from the 6th to the 12th chiefly in revisiting 
 old friends ; and on the 1 2th, Cullen, Edward Turner, 
 and I set off for Paris, accompanied by Woronzow 
 Greig, son of Mrs Somerville by her first husband — 
 a. clever lively youth of sixteen, visiting Paris for a 
 month under Cullen's guardianship. My object in 
 Paris was to take merely a general view of medical 
 practice in the hospitals, but especially to seek an 
 opportunity of studying practically some of the 
 highest branches of chemical analysis, carried on at 
 that time with great ardour and singular success in 
 the French capital. 
 
 In the morning we left London for Brighton on the 
 outside of a splendidly horsed four-in-hand stage- 
 coach, driven by a communicative facetious coachman. 
 At Brighton, after much trickery and squabbling 
 among the seafaring people on the beach, we were put 
 on board the Dieppe packet, only a quarter of a mile 
 off, in a leaky boat carrying twelve passengers, at the 
 exorbitant charge of 3s. a-head. Nothing could be 
 worse than the treatment we met with on this passage. 
 We paid the Custom-house porters Is. for not exam- 
 ining our trunks, 3s. to the rascally shoremen for 
 
208 FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF FRANCE. 
 
 rowing us on board, two guineas for our passage of 
 about one hundred miles across Channel, and 10s. 
 for our dietary of milkless tea, bread, and putrid 
 butter during our forty hours' voyage ! We were 
 also within an ace of having to swim for our lives. 
 While on the point of getting on board the packet on 
 her off side, a big clumsy bumboat under full sail, 
 unaware of the presence of our boat, steered so 
 close round the packet's stern that we appeared 
 about to be run down by it. Our boatmen and the 
 crew of the packet shrieked out a volley of abusive 
 oaths. I sprang up with one foot on the gunnel, 
 ready to leap into the water, clear of the coming 
 crash ; and amidst the general hubbub our enemy 
 luckily passed us with a graze only. We were an 
 entire day and two nights on this miserable voyage, 
 and did not land at Dieppe till one o'clock in the 
 afternoon of the 14th. 
 
 Frequent forethought proved no preparation for 
 the change that awaited me on landing. The fisher- 
 men in bulky petticoats and unwashed faces ; the 
 Customs officers with cocked-hats, moustaches, and 
 swords ; the irregular houses, built chiefly of white- 
 painted wood crossed with black beams diagon- 
 ally ; the female townspeople, all neatly dressed 
 (for the feast-day of the Virgin Mary) in red petti- 
 coats, checked shawls, particoloured aprons, and 
 enormous white mutches, kissing one another and 
 chattering incessantly ; the men bustling, attitudin- 
 ising, and for the most part looking uncommonly 
 fierce ; the little lively horses attired in rope-harness ; 
 
DILIGENCE CELERIFEE.E. 209 
 
 the lilliputian stature of the troops we met returning 
 from parade, with the ferocious countenances which 
 their officers thought it right to assume ; and the oddity 
 of crowds of little boys and girls and wee bairns all 
 talking French, — made an impression on me as if I 
 had landed in a new world instead of a neighbouring 
 kingdom. 
 
 Next morning, 15th August, we left Dieppe for 
 Eouen, 45 miles, by the " Diligence Celdrifere," a 
 modern edition of the old French four-mile-an-hour 
 diligence, and warranted to travel at the rate of seven 
 miles. It was quite a wonder to see five little horses, 
 three wheelers and two leaders, pull at even that 
 humble rate such a gigantic lumbering vehicle as our 
 diligence, consisting of a front " coupe " for four, a 
 spacious " interieur " for six, and a curtained " derriere 
 galerie " for six more, and covered with enormous piles 
 of luggage everywhere. It was charming to see that 
 innovations in costume had not reached our postilion. 
 He wore a broad-brimmed, high-crowned hat with a 
 checked handkerchief for hatband; another large check 
 round his neck ; a very short, blue-striped, sleeveless, 
 not over-clean jacket, his shirt - sleeves tucked up 
 above the elbows ; green - plush breeches, and pro- 
 digious boots reaching as high as the middle of the 
 thigh, increasing in thickness of wood and leather 
 downwards to the feet, and furnished on one side only 
 with a rusty spur of terrific length. In front sat the 
 " conducteur," equivalent to the " guard " at home, — a 
 very communicative fellow, and a wag. Cullen posed 
 him for reasons for the ponderous stiff boots. At last 
 
 vol. i. o 
 
210 THE PALAIS ROYAL. 
 
 he assured us that " les bottes enfin, messieurs, sont 
 fort commodes quand la diligence vient d'etre ren- 
 verse'e." At the same time, he acknowledged that 
 during the long time he had been upon the road, he 
 had never known an overturn but once, when the 
 postilion in a dark night mistook the way, and upset 
 the diligence down a bank. 
 
 We slept at Rouen, and on the 16th we travelled 
 to Paris, a journey of 90 miles. Passing St Denis, we 
 entered the great capital by the Barriere de Clichy, 
 where we were quickly octroye, as it was easy for the 
 Customs officers to discover that our trunks contained 
 neither bottles of wine nor revolutionary "petards. 
 We got at once excellent accommodation at the 
 Hotel de l'Europe, close to the Bureau des Celeri- 
 feres, the destination of our diligence. 
 
 After a very needful bath and an excellent dinner, 
 finding that we were close to the Palais Royal, 
 the centre and heart of Paris, I went thither with 
 my companions. And what a spectacle for a set of 
 novices ! Round the vast corridors there slowly cir- 
 culated a dense crowd of well-dressed people, among 
 whom predominated the military and the frail por- 
 tion of the fair sex, — the latter decked out as for a 
 ball, and not a few of them gorgeously attired in 
 silks and jewellery ; the former wearing the same 
 fierceness of look which attracted our notice among 
 the officers at Dieppe, the only exceptions being the 
 gendarmes, who were all mild-looking, prepossessing 
 men, conformably with their character of being picked 
 soldiers from the whole French army. 
 
A LESSON IN THE THEATRE. 211 
 
 Next day we took a general survey of objects in our 
 neighbourhood, found lodgings on the south side of 
 the river, and in the evening went to the Theatre 
 Frangais. Here we met with a useful lesson. Seated 
 together in the parterre before the performance be- 
 gan, and much excited by the novelty of our day's 
 excursion, we — especially the ever-censorious Cullen 
 — were freely intercommunicating comments more 
 sincere than discreet on the many odd-looking people 
 around us, when a pleasant French gentleman on 
 the seat behind us, addressing Cullen in English, 
 apologised for accosting him, and cautioned us to be 
 careful what we said aloud to one another, because 
 many Frenchmen now knew English, and there were 
 police spies in all public places. I suggested that 
 we should " kittle oor freen's lugs wi' a wee braid 
 Scotch." We accordingly conversed a little in homely 
 Doric, when our friendly neighbour candidly acknow- 
 ledged, in reply to Cullen's inquiry, that he did not 
 understand one word of our new language. Thus we 
 owed to this kindly Frenchman two useful lessons for 
 our guidance on French soil, — to be careful of what 
 we said in public, and how safely to say what 
 might be apt to displease listeners around us. I have 
 often observed since how thoroughly the mingling of 
 a little Lowland Scotch with genuine English renders 
 that language unintelligible to a foreigner, however 
 familiar he may be with it in its purer form. 
 
 Next day we got all housed in the Hotel Colom- 
 bier, Eue du Colombier, a rather narrow street off the 
 Rue de Seine, south of the river, — a favourite street, 
 
212 THE PARISIAN R. 
 
 as we were told, with the ancient French nobility. 
 Here we were very comfortably lodged in " un aparte- 
 ment de six pieces," consisting of vestibule, parlour, 
 and four bedrooms. Our residence being only a 
 " hotel meubleV' we breakfasted and dined, in Par- 
 isian fashion, at a neighbouring coffee-house and 
 restaurant. Our parlour was frequented by crickets, 
 but luckily by no other company. I made acquaint- 
 ance for the first time with their extremely shrill 
 chirping, which two of us, however, could not distin- 
 guish, owing to the note being too high in the musical 
 scale for their organisation. When Woronzow Greig 
 left us we became economical, and migrated to cheaper 
 and separate rooms in the Hotel de Bussy, Rue du 
 Bussy, in the " Pays Latin," not far from the Ecole 
 de Mddecine. 
 
 We at once began our studies. Cullen, Turner, and 
 I went in the early morning to the Hopital de la 
 Pitie, and after breakfast we all took French lessons 
 from a rough - looking but very intelligent tutor, 
 who soon materially mended our discourse. One 
 refinement, however, in pronunciation we repudiated. 
 All born Parisians spoke the letter r with as bad a 
 burr as a Berwicker. Our teacher was a Parisian, 
 and therefore said he, " Messieurs, on ne parle 
 jamais bien Francais a moins que Ton pa?'le gras ! " 
 In the end he became content with the rattling 
 Scotch r of Cullen and myself, but he could not 
 overcome the liquid English form of it in the mouth 
 of Edward Turner. Cullen also persuaded us to 
 study what was then an essential part of French 
 
DANCING LESSONS. 213 
 
 education — dancing. A retired second danseur 
 de Vopera was accordingly engaged as a teacher, 
 and severe were the lessons he gave us. At the 
 house of a French banker, M. Robin, I had several 
 opportunities of seeing what a quadrille was when 
 gone through by eight accomplished dancers. It was 
 really beautiful, but evidently a work of high art, 
 every step being an elaborate pas de danse. Such 
 caprioling was not to be attained with ordinary pains 
 and training ; and, indeed, Turner was told by a 
 graceful dancing Dutchman that it took three years 
 of teaching to make him what he was. Accordingly 
 we began to tire ere long of our second danseur. I 
 was the first to give in, satisfied with having acquired 
 such a knowledge of principles as enabled me after- 
 wards to criticise severely what was called at home 
 " dancing a quadrille," and convinced that to acquire 
 skill would demand too much application at the time, 
 and be of little use afterwards in my own uncon- 
 genial country. Cullen persevered longer, but invito" 
 Terpsichore, and therefore making no great progress. 
 Turner alone benefited, as he possessed lither limbs, 
 and had got better rudiments in boyhood at a lady- 
 school. 
 
 During the remainder of the forenoon I read a deal 
 of French — not much medical literature, but Corneille, 
 Racine, Moliere, Regnard, Crdbillon ; also Voltaire and 
 Rousseau, in order to learn what was held to have 
 mainly tended to form the French revolutionary mind. 
 In the afternoon we did the staple sights of Paris, 
 and in our " courses," nothing struck me so forcibly 
 
214 FREXCH VICTORIES. 
 
 as the great prominence of the military element. 
 In the vicinity of the Palace this preponderance 
 was natural enough. But it was the same thing 
 everywhere else — on the Boulevards promenades, in 
 the public gardens, in the principal streets, in the 
 theatres and other houses of public entertainment. 
 In every assemblage of the people military uniforms 
 caught the eye in all directions. Seldom a day 
 passed without our meeting a regiment or two on 
 the march through the streets — most generally a bat- 
 tabon of the National Guard. The love of military 
 show and glory displaj-ed itself broadly in all picture- 
 galleries, except, I admit, that of the Louvre. The 
 walls of the great picture-gallery in the Palace of 
 Versailles were decorated with little else than the 
 victories of the French armies. When in the gallery 
 of the Luxembourg, we were attracted by a fine sea- 
 piece, which represented a French frigate capturing 
 a British man-of-war of seventy -four guns, but 
 which also represented all the British tars fighting 
 in scarlet jackets. " Oh," said one of us, " the 
 seventy-four must have been compelled in a hurri- 
 cane to throw her guns overboard." " And," said 
 another, " she had somehow lost all her seamen, 
 as there are only marines on her deck and rig- 
 ging." While making these and other comments, 
 we laughed so heartily that we were scowled at 
 by the visitors around us, and at last silenced. 
 We were still more amused on finding promi- 
 nently inscribed, at the bottom of a long bst of 
 French victories on one of the faces of the Arc de 
 
FRENCH SOLDIERS. 215 
 
 Triomphe, at the entrance to the Avenue de Neuilly, 
 the word " Thoulouse." Luckily there was no " vieux 
 moustache " near to take fire at our boisterous merri- 
 ment. At the Semaphore, on the hill of Montmartre, 
 the keeper gave us a graphic narrative of the fighting 
 around it, which preceded the capture of Paris by 
 the Allies in 1814. We remarked that, when in any 
 conflict his countrymen had the worst of it, their 
 troops merely " se retiroient " — " se battoient en 
 retraite ; " but when successful, that their adversaries 
 were " culbutes " — " renverse"s "—^" exterminds ; " so 
 that, in short, it never came out how the Allied forces 
 could possibly have won the day. After all, our tele- 
 graph - keeper was no more than an honest erring- 
 patriot, compared with that veracious model-historian 
 Thiers, who, in his ' Consulat et L'Empire ' (liii. Prem- 
 iere Abdication), makes it appear that in the same 
 battle 25,000 French almost repulsed 170,000 veteran 
 Allied troops, and that with 10,000 more men they 
 would have done so. 
 
 I had little opportunity of judging of the military 
 training of French troops, having only once seen, and 
 for a short time, a battalion at drill in the Champ de 
 Mars. Moreover, I knew little of military drill at 
 that period. But the men were manifestly below our 
 own soldiers as to frame and strength. The finest 
 men were the " Grenadiers a cheval," and grand look- 
 ing fellows they were. Yet neither men nor horses 
 seemed to me equal to the British Life Guards. The 
 regular infantry we saw in Paris were almost entirely 
 regiments of the Guards, said to be 20,000 in number, 
 
216 TALL MEN AXD SHORT. 
 
 and picked men. Their high bearskin caps gave them 
 great apparent height ; and broad white bands across the 
 front of their tunics, in short stripes at the waist, but 
 widening upwards till at the shoulders they stretched 
 from point to point, were well contrived to make the 
 chest seem broad, full, and shapely. But Turner and 
 I, men of 5 feet 11| and 5 feet llf, frequently com- 
 pared one another with the sentries on guard at the 
 Palace and other soldiers as we passed them, and very 
 seldom found one of our own stature. If the bat- 
 talion I saw at Dieppe was a fair specimen, the troops 
 of the line were very inferior indeed to our Line 
 regiments. The men were not only little — they 
 were small ; so that if strength, weight, and impulse 
 were sufficient in such a case, ten men of the calibre 
 of Turner and myself seemed capable of sweeping 
 down a whole company of them. Keeping out of 
 view the influence of other national differences, this 
 inferiority in physical frame will of itself, in part at 
 least, explain the fact that, under tolerably ecpual 
 circumstances as to numbers and generalship, French 
 have never been able to stand against British troops. 
 It is usually said, indeed, that "a little man's bullet 
 has its billet as sure as a big man's." Firing, how- 
 ever, is but part, and a small part too, of a soldier's 
 work. Besides, from what I have seen, I am satisfied 
 that, taking men overhead, the strong will fire faster, 
 longer, and more true, than those who are weaker. 
 Various incidents have satisfied me that, if allow- 
 ance be made for exceptional instances of short men 
 possessed of massive muscle, and tall men very 
 
RELIGIOUS SPECTACLE. 217 
 
 spare in that respect, stature on the whole rules 
 strength, and work, if not skilled. For instance, 
 going one day into the country to collect fresh hem- 
 lock-seeds from growing plants where they were 
 abundant, though the work seemed very light in- 
 deed, I found that I and five assistants collected very 
 exactly according to our stature, and that nearly 
 twice as much was gathered by the tallest of us as 
 by the shortest. 
 
 Paris has been always famous for its spectacles — 
 and many we saw, real as well as theatrical. The one 
 of which I have the liveliest recollection was the 
 mortuary service annually held in the beautiful 
 Abbey of St Denis in commemoration of the death 
 of Louis XVI. The aisles, furnished on both sides 
 with chairs, were completely filled with well-dressed 
 people. A magnificent catafalque occupied the front 
 of the choir. The nave was kept clear for the coming 
 pageant. First came the " Cent Suisses," grand tall 
 veterans from every branch of the service — being 
 that part of the king's body-guard corresponding with 
 our yeomen of the guard — who, as they marched in, 
 opened out and lined each side of the passage up the 
 nave. Then, after a pause of dead silence, appeared 
 a body of high ecclesiastics richly robed, headed (we 
 were told) by the Archbishop of Paris, preceded by 
 youths swinging censers and a priest carrying the 
 Host, and followed by a little knot of members of the 
 Eoyal family and the Court. At the moment when 
 the procession entered the west door, the soldiers pre- 
 sented arms, dropped the butts of their muskets on 
 
218 MESSE DE MINTJIT. 
 
 the floor, and knelt down on one knee ; but a few 
 Protestants among them were privileged to stand up, 
 with their heads bent over their hands placed over 
 the muzzles of their firelocks. As the procession ad- 
 vanced the congregation followed the example of the 
 soldiers. My companions and I were among the few 
 who kept the erect position. The service which then 
 commenced consisted of a succession of chanting and 
 silent adoration before the cross on the catafalque — on 
 6ne occasion by the Archbishop in person. The only 
 other Catholic ceremonial I witnessed while in Paris 
 was the Messe de Minuit on Christmas Eve, held in 
 the ancient church of St Koch in the Eue St Honore, 
 — the most popular of the churches on the occasion of 
 this great Catholic festival. The priesthood and 
 choristers occupied the front of the choir ; and the 
 whole spacious nave was crowded with worshippers, 
 to all appearance unfeignedly devout and attentive 
 to the service of alternate prayer and chanting. In 
 strange contrast with this central assemblage, a dense 
 pack of people, male and female, all in hobday dress, 
 moved slowly down one aisle, round the back of the 
 choir, and up the aisle opposite, conversing loudlv 
 on very sublunary matters, and some of them — 
 young blackguards in the garb of gentlemen — shout- 
 ing, imitating, and jeering as they passed the ecclesi- 
 astics engaged in the service. Such an incongruity 
 of object and of conduct, so strangely tolerated, en- 
 abled one to peep a little into the religious element 
 of the Parisian character. My proper place of 
 worship was the Oratoire in the Eue St Honore, 
 
THE ORATOIRE. 219 
 
 near the Palais Royal. The service here was sub- 
 stantially Presbyterian, and very like that of our 
 Scottish Church, except that it lasted some hours 
 continuously, during which each member of the audi- 
 ence came and went at pleasure, waiting, however, 
 for a pause at the close of some act of the service. 
 There seemed to be no appropriation of the pews. 
 The first time I was there I sat down beside a private 
 of the Swiss troops, who shared with me his psalm- 
 book, with the music printed under the verses. So I 
 sang bass to his tenor, following the good example of 
 the congregation, who seemed to join vigorously in 
 the psalmody. By the way, the Swiss troops in French 
 pay, of whom there were several regiments in Paris, 
 were fine, broad-shouldered men compared with the 
 French, very steady on the march through the streets, 
 and altogether, in their scarlet tunics, uncommonly 
 like British soldiers. At the numerous gates and 
 doors of the Palace there was invariably a blue- 
 coated French sentry at one side and a Swiss red- 
 coat at the other — the Frenchman to guard the king, 
 and the Switzer to guard the Frenchman. 
 
 While our holidays lasted, we paid frequent visits 
 to the theatres, sometimes to the Oddon in the south 
 side of Paris, but most generally to the Theatre 
 Francais — our object being partly lessons in pro- 
 nouncing and comprehending conversational French, 
 and partly amusement at small cost. I was fortunate 
 enough to hear the three chief dramatic stars per- 
 form — Mademoiselle Mars, Mademoiselle Georges, 
 and Talma — each of them once only. Mars, in her 
 
220 MY INTRODUCTIONS. 
 
 seventieth year, continued to play with wonderful 
 success her favourite parts of the young French 
 soubrette of French comedy. Georges and Talma 
 performed on Sundays only, so that I had to violate 
 Scottish traditions in order to hear them. Georges 
 did not strike me as a dramatic genius, capable of 
 overcoming the unnatural manner and gestures of 
 French tragedians. But Talma was a true genius 
 of the stage, who had thrown aside all the tradi- 
 tional utterances, attitudinising, and gesticulation of 
 the dramatic muse of Paris, and used very much 
 in most respects the lofty impressive methods of 
 John Kemble. 
 
 I did not see much of French private society during 
 this my first visit to Paris. That woidd have been 
 scarcely compatible with my objects as a student. I 
 carried with me three introductions, — to the family of 
 M. Robin, the Paris banker already mentioned ; to 
 the Baroness d'Henin, an Edinburgh lady who be- 
 came wife of one of Napoleon's generals while he was 
 prisoner of war in Scotland ; and to no less a person- 
 age than the Comtesse Eumford, the widow first of 
 Lavoisier, and then of Benjamin Thompson, Count 
 Eumford. I spent not a few very pleasant evenings 
 at the town-house and country-house at St Denis of 
 M. Eobin. He and his wife knew not one word of 
 English ; but they had two clever and accomplished 
 daughters who spoke English excellentby, though they 
 had never been out of France, and from whom natu- 
 rally I learned a great deal during my visits. I was 
 also hospitably entertained several times at the house 
 
MILNE-EDWARDS. 221 
 
 of General d'Henin, who, as well as his lady, was 
 a very kindly, agreeable friend. He was not in 
 active service, because he had been too great a fa- 
 vourite with Napoleon le Grand. As for the widow 
 of Eumford, I called on her, delivered to a lofty 
 elderly lady my credentials from a great friend of 
 hers, Mr Ferguson of Eaith, took my leave after a 
 few brief inquiries and words of civility on her part — 
 and heard no more of her. As her drawing-rooms 
 were said to be the fashionable resort of the chief 
 scientific men of Paris, it was thought at home that, if 
 inclined, she might prove useful in obtaining for me 
 an opportunity of studying the higher branches of 
 chemistry with one of the eminent French professors. 
 That means of access having failed me, I was for a 
 time much at a loss how to carry out my purpose. 
 But fortunately, and in good time, my fellow-graduate, 
 Coindet, joining our party for the winter, was able 
 to introduce me to Dr William Edwards, long natu- 
 ralised as a French subject, one of the most distin- 
 guished of French physiologists, and elder brother of 
 the subsequently still more eminent Milne-Edwards, 
 the naturalist. My acquaintance with this learned, 
 able, and amiable man soon became intimate ; and it 
 continued so for many years after my return home 
 untd his death. From him I received much judicious 
 advice, and he did me the great favour of introducing 
 me as a pupil to M. Eobiquet. 
 
 The Eobin family were stanch Eoj^alists and Bour- 
 bonists. It was at their house, I think, that I first 
 was informed that the Duchesse de Berri was about to 
 
222 AN HEIR TO THE BOURBONS. 
 
 add a posthumous child to the house of her murdered 
 husband and to the race of the Bourbons. By-and-by 
 it was known throughout Paris that, for months before, 
 prayers had been put up in the churches for a male 
 child ; and that its sex would be satisfactorily settled 
 by the artillery with a salute of twenty-five guns for 
 the birth of a princess, or of fifty for the advent of 
 a prince. In the dark early morning hours of Sep- 
 tember 29, I was roused from sleep by the report of 
 the first gun. When I had counted twenty-five, 
 there was a pause, probably not unintentional, brief, 
 but long enough to allow me to heave a sigh for the 
 extinction of the only remaining hope for the con- 
 tinuance of the Bourbon family on the French throne. 
 In a few seconds, however, the salute recommenced 
 with accelerated speed, and very soon the completed 
 fifty guns announced in the darkness that an heir to 
 the crown had been born for France. After breakfast 
 I went to the Tuileries to watch the feelings of the 
 citizens. On the way every face I met seemed joy- 
 ous. Knots of people had assembled under the 
 windows of the apartments occupied by the Duchess- 
 mother, and all seemed cordially to welcome the 
 event. Presently a large window in the first floor 
 was thrown open, and to my astonishment the nurse, 
 in a peasant's costume, exhibited the infant in its 
 swaddling-clothes to the view of a delighted and 
 applauding crowd. Others may have been chew- 
 ing the cud of mortification at home ; but there 
 could be no doubt that the crowds of Parisians who 
 succeeded one another below the Duchess's win- 
 
DUCHESSE DE BERRI. 223 
 
 dows, and were favoured from time to time by re- 
 appearance of the infant, were highly pleased, and 
 sympathised sincerely with the Royal family. 
 
 On the occasion of her delivery, the Duchesse de 
 Berri exhibited in a remarkable manner the deter- 
 mination that afterwards characterised her in more 
 public incidents. Her labour was unusually easy and 
 quick, and consequently the child was born before the 
 arrival of the dignitaries of the Court, whose presence 
 was by Royal custom required for authentication of 
 the parentage and sex of the infant. This custom 
 was more than a mere formality in the Duchess's 
 case ; for Napoleonists and Republicans had circu- 
 lated a scandalous tale that her pregnancy was a got- 
 up affair for the purpose of imposing a foundling 
 upon France. The Duchess therefore would not allow 
 the umbilical cord to be cut till one of the Court 
 officials should appear ; and on the arrival of the 
 marshal-in-waiting, she said to him : " Approchez, 
 M. le Mare"chal ! Vous voyez l'enfant et moi, que 
 nous ne sommes qu'un ! " About fifteen years later 
 it was accidentally my lot to escort the expatriated 
 Due de Bordeaux and his tutor Barrante through our 
 University museum and library. 
 
224 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 STUDY IN PARIS. 
 
 PROFESSORS AND LECTURERS L'HERMINIER FOUQUIER — BOYER 
 
 BAD SURGERY A PREPOSTEROUS OPERATION DUPUYTREN HIS 
 
 GENTLENESS LECTURE ON TETANUS BARON LARREY NAPO- 
 LEON AND LARREY — ESQUIROL HOSPICE DES ENFANS TROUVES 
 
 BROUSSAIS VAUQUELIN DUMAS GAY-LUSSAC THENARD 
 
 ORFILA THE INSTITUTE — LAPLACE BERTHOLLET — MARMONT 
 
 ARAGO AMPERE — MAGENDIE — EXPERIMENTS ON MAD DOGS — MR 
 
 DICK ON HYDROPHOBIA. 
 
 As in London, so in Paris, I got no lesson in the 
 treatment of diseases. I followed the clinical visit of 
 L'Herminier at the Hospital of La Charite. He was a 
 quiet, comfortable-looking man, who took things easily, 
 and seemed to me flippant in his talk, which sometimes 
 bordered on the profane. I cannot say my observation 
 confirmed what I had heard of the respect paid to the 
 patients by the French hospital physicians, and the 
 general decorum observed at their visits. L'Herminier 
 and his " Eleves Internes " freely interchanged unsuit- 
 able observations across their patients at the bedside. 
 One morning, as he was passing the empty bed of a 
 shoemaker who had died of fever a few hours before, 
 
F0UQU1ER. 225 
 
 the Eleve in charge remarked, with a facetious expres- 
 sion : " Voila, monsieur, notre cordonnier ! " " Ah ! 
 le bon homme," said the physician, " souvenez-vous ? 
 Hier il etait plein de joie ! Ha ! l'avant-coureur de 
 jouissances celestes ! " And of course the students 
 laughed at this profane jocularity, uttered aloud in 
 the hearing of several patients not much better than 
 the shoemaker was the day before. 
 
 Several wards of the hospital of La Charite, con- 
 taining in all fifty beds, were set apart for the " Clinique 
 Interne," or course of instruction in clinical medicine, 
 of Professor Fouquier. His wards contained each eight 
 to eleven beds — too many for their cubic space ; and 
 they were ill ventilated. In an hour he visited the 
 whole fifty patients ; and then he delivered his lecture 
 on the cases to about thirty students. He began 
 with the meteorological report of the previous day, 
 and attempted to trace a connection between the 
 state of his patients and the quality of the late 
 weather. Rheumatism and catarrh had been very 
 frequent, which he ascribed to the customary change- 
 ability of the weather. But, for my part, the weather 
 had appeared to me very steady — dry, mild, and 
 altogether pleasant— for fourteen days before. He 
 then took a brief survey of anything notable in his 
 old cases ; and finally, he dwelt at great length on 
 two cases recently admitted. The case-book, kept by 
 his " Interne," contained in great detail the biography 
 of the patients from infancy, and gave a most elabo- 
 rate statement of the existing illness, of symptoms 
 negative as well as positive, and of the condition of 
 
 vol. i. p 
 
226 PARISIAN PATHOLOGY AND SURGERY. 
 
 every function, whether disturbed or not. The pro- 
 fessor went over these details, and commented on 
 them, although there was nothing at all remarkable 
 or interesting in either of the cases. This style of 
 clinical lecture was a useful lesson of painstaking 
 inquiry to the young student. But if methodicallv 
 repeated, it must become very dry, and rather barren 
 of instruction. 
 
 From the "Eapport du Conseil des Hopitaux," &c, 
 for 1818, it appears that in the hospital of La Charite 
 in that year, 592 cases died. As every dead body is 
 at the medical officer's command for examination, it 
 is easy to understand that a day seldom passed with- 
 out at least one pathological inspection. I remember, 
 nevertheless, having once met with a disappointment 
 on three successive mornings. On the third I en- 
 countered at the door of the pathological rooms the 
 following apostrophe from the " Gardien " : " Encore, 
 monsieur, point d'autopsie ! Ilya depuis ces trois 
 jours une e^pidemie de sante dans l'hopital ! " 
 
 The most interesting dissection I saw, but one not 
 at all creditable to the pathology or surgery of Paris, 
 was in a fatal case of operation for popbteal aneur- 
 ism. I witnessed the operation, which was performed 
 by Professor Boyer, assisted by M. Eoux. The 
 femoral artery was reached by the outer edge of the 
 sartorius muscle. The incision, nevertheless, was 
 made over the middle of the muscle, and thus there 
 ensued much tugging and pulling to get at its edge. 
 The artery being laid bare, a broad steel instrument, 
 pointed like a seton- needle, was pushed from the 
 
BAD SURGERY. 227 
 
 outside under it ; and through the passage thus made 
 an eyed probe, with a double ligature of strong white 
 tape, was passed from the inside. The ligature was 
 then cut in two ; and the two parts were forcibly 
 separated from each other to the distance of half an 
 inch. Both were next tied over a longitudinal com- 
 press of the same diameter as the artery. Lastly, 
 the incision was stuffed full of charpie ; a lofty pile of 
 the same was heaped on over all ; and this laborious 
 dressing was secured by an alternating bandage. The 
 result of such clumsy, rough usage it was easy to 
 anticipate. The man seemed to be doing well at 
 first. But he soon fell into an undefmable fever, 
 which the surgeons appeared not to understand, but 
 which Cullen and I strongly suspected to arise from 
 inflammation of the femoral vein ; and death ensued 
 in twenty -one days after the operation under symp- 
 toms of pure exhaustion, with low delirium. A 
 rough inspection was made. The surgeons were con- 
 tent with finding suppuration of the cavity that had 
 been stuffed with charpie, sloughing of the ligatured 
 artery, and the adjacent femoral vein filled with pus. 
 But Cullen, who knew the "Interne" conducting the 
 examination, persuaded him afterwards to trace the 
 vein upward; when it was found that the entire 
 femoral vein, the external iliac, and the common 
 iliac up to the bifurcation of the inferior vena cava, 
 were blocked with lymph, loose and adhering clots, 
 and collections of pus here and there. 
 
 I saw the same surgeons perform only one other 
 operation, which did as little credit to the surgery of 
 
228 A PREPOSTEROUS OPERATION. 
 
 La Ckarite. A man of thirty-six had been affected 
 for ten years with an extraordinary tendency to ex- 
 ostosis of the bones of the face. The cheek-bones 
 projected so far forward as to be on a level with the 
 bones of the nose ; the upper maxillary bones pressed 
 downwards in the mouth so as nearly to reach the 
 tongue, upwards so as to obstruct the lachrymal ducts 
 and the passage from the nostrils to the pharynx, 
 and backwards so as to fill the upper region of the 
 pharynx, and threaten to descend upon the glottis. 
 Lastly, on each side of the lower jaw was another bony 
 tumour, one small and incipient, the other already 
 very large. What was to be done with this formida- 
 ble complexity of growth in recesses so unassailable ? 
 The surgeons resolved to level the obtrusive cheek- 
 bones ! Roux was the operator. He made a circular 
 incision round the left tumour, and then a cross sec- 
 tion, to expose the bone. An ordinary saw could not 
 be worked round the bony mass. Roux, who had 
 recently returned from a visit to England enamoured 
 with London surgery and English surgical instru- 
 ments, then tried first Hey's circular saw and then a 
 very pretty chain-saw, but all in vain. In fact the 
 exostosis was harder than ivory, and no saw would 
 bite. The projection was consequently beaten to 
 pieces with a chisel and mallet after the manner of 
 a hewing-mason. The man had been an hour and a 
 half on the operating-table ; one cheek-bone had been 
 at last levelled, and Roux was busy polishing the 
 surface with the same weapons, when I left the room, 
 wondering why an engineer should think of painfully 
 
DUPUYTJREN". 229 
 
 demolishing the outworks, when it was impossible for 
 him afterwards to assail the citadel ! 
 
 Fortunately for French surgery, I had afterwards 
 an opportunity of seeing it under much more fa- 
 vourable auspices in the hands of Dupuytren at the 
 H6tel-Dieu. In front of an immense tail of stu- 
 dents, we met Baron Dupuytren, a man of five feet 
 eight and of good figure, but very hard - favoured, 
 indeed almost malignant, in countenance. The crowd 
 around him was so great that I found it impossible to 
 get near enough to hear or see his examination of his 
 patients. The French students, moreover, were a very 
 dirty, ill-dressed set to squeeze among. But indeed 
 M. Dupuytren was no better. He wore a dirty white 
 apron, superfluously protecting a dirtier pair of trou- 
 sers, a greasy threadbare coat, and well-worn carpet- 
 shoes. After his visit we repaired to the operating 
 theatre, where in the first place he gave a brief 
 account in a low voice of the operations he was about 
 to perform. These were lithotomy and removal of 
 the lower lip. 
 
 The subject of lithotomy was a fine little boy of 
 only five years. Nothing could surpass the humanity 
 and kindliness of this reputedly rough and ill-natured- 
 looking man. He did not take a single step in the 
 operation without asking and obtaining the child's 
 consent. While he was making his incisions, he was 
 also constantly engaged in patting and coaxing the 
 little fellow, and with such success that he only 
 whined occasionally, but never cried. At the same 
 time every step was accompanied with some words of 
 
230 DUPUYTREN ON TETANUS. 
 
 explanation to the students — for which purpose he 
 turned his head from side to side, that all might see 
 what he was doing. Of the threefold duty of oper- 
 ating, soothing, and demonstrating, no part seemed 
 to interfere at all with another. The whole opera- 
 tion was over in a very short time. No dressing was 
 applied ; and the child was carried out in his nurse's 
 arms, all the while calling out " Adieu, monsieur," 
 — Dupuytren smiling and replying, " Adieu, mon 
 cher petit ! " 
 
 On occasion of another visit to the Hotel-Dieu, 
 I was so fortunate as to hear an admirable lecture by 
 Dupuytren on tetanus. It was a propos of a case 
 of tetanus occurring during sloughing of the foot 
 caused by a severe bruise ; but the substance of 
 the lecture was really a systematic discussion of the 
 nature of this disease. He began by stating that 
 there were some surgical diseases into the essence of 
 which professional observation had not yet penetrated ; 
 that the teacher of surgery ought not to evade such 
 topics on account of their obscurity ; that they had 
 great attraction for ardent youthful minds exactly 
 by reason of their mysteriousness, and because the 
 investigation of them held out the chance of important 
 discoveries ; that the inexperienced are very apt to 
 be led astray in such obscure and tortuous paths 
 through the influence of the uncurbed imagination 
 of youth ; that it was the duty of a teacher to warn 
 the student of the risk of error by bringing the fruits 
 of his long experience to bear upon past and pres- 
 ent theory, as well as on future inquiry. He then 
 
THE EACHITISTES. 231 
 
 observed that tetanus was one of the diseases in 
 question — the most important of them — and one 
 of the most inexplicable. He meant to discuss its 
 nature : he could not show, however, what that is ; 
 but he could tell what it is not, and especially that 
 it is not what a new Parisian theory would have it 
 to be. 
 
 He now proceeded to notice and criticise the 
 exploded doctrines as to the nature of tetanus, and 
 assailed with witty argument and sarcasm the new 
 crotchet, that it is a " rachite," or inflammation of the 
 spinal chord at the origin of the nerves which supply 
 the injured part of the body. Tetanus, said he, is 
 a most violent disease, marked by the most urgent 
 symptoms. Appearances found in the dead body, 
 which may be referred to as explaining its nature, 
 must therefore be in their own nature clear and 
 unmistakable. But what is it that these advocates 
 of inflammation of the spinal chord have discovered ? 
 "Une vascularite, tant soit peu, a laquelle la position 
 du cadavre apres la mort pourrait facilement donner 
 lieu. Un de ces Eachitistes me pria d'assister a 
 l'autopsie d'un tdtanique, en m'assurant que la nature 
 de la maladie devait 6tre mise hors de doute. Le 
 rachis est expose". ' He" bien,' dit-il, ' ne voyez-vous 
 pas l'inflammation ? ' 'Non! je ne la vois pas!' 
 ' (Test parcequ'elle a disparu depuis la mort ! ' Peu 
 de terns apres je l'ai prie" de faire l'autopsie d'un de 
 mes malades mort de tdtanos. La menie question ! 
 'Voyez-vous l'inflammation?' ' Non ! je n'en vois 
 pas.' ' Cependant, tout le monde dit que c'est tres 
 
232 TREATMENT OF TETANUS. 
 
 evident!' 'Mais tout le monde dit que non.' Et 
 le me'decin sortit, aussi couvaincu que jamais de 
 l'existence d'inflammation daus tous les cas de 
 t^tanos." 
 
 Towards the close of His lecture lie dwelt shortly 
 on the treatment, lamenting its general inutility, and 
 mentioning that of several very diverse methods there 
 was not one which had not proved apparently suc- 
 cessful in a few rare instances, and not one in which 
 the surgeon could put any confidence. Even the 
 removal of the cause of tetanus by no means always 
 arrested the disease — tetanus being one of those con- 
 sequences of an injury to which the familiar saying, 
 " Sublata causa, tollitur effectus," was very far from 
 being generally applicable. Nevertheless this measure 
 should always be kept in view and carefully considered, 
 for the cause may be trifling and easily removed. With 
 much candour he related a very singular case in which 
 he had himself overlooked that rule: "A child was 
 struck on the fore-arm with a carter's whip. A small 
 swelling arose on the spot, with a little superficial 
 inflammation. Little attention was paid to this cir- 
 cumstance. A poultice merely was applied. Tetanus 
 ensued, and the child died. An inspection took place ; 
 and every cavity, canal, and internal organ was ex- 
 amined. But nothing was found — ' point d'inflam- 
 mation du rachis.' At last I suddenly thought of 
 examining the little tumour. There I found, to my 
 great surprise and mortification, the knot of the whip 
 hang in contact with the ulnar nerve. By some 
 unaccountable sport of fortune, the knot had been 
 
BARON LARREY. 233 
 
 separated from the lash ; in a manner equally un- 
 accountable, it had been left in the wound ; and 
 strangely, too, the skin had healed over it. ' Enfin, 
 messieurs,' concluded he, 'le tdtanos est une affec- 
 tion du systeme nerveux. C'est clair cela. Mais, 
 quant a la nature de cette affection, je ne puis pas 
 vous dire ce que c'est.' " 
 
 Dupuytren had the name in Paris of being pas- 
 sionate, harsh, and imperious as a man and a surgeon. 
 The lectures I heard him deliver tended to make him 
 out a man of great candour, humanity, calmness, 
 decision, promptitude, and resource. 
 
 Baron Larrey, as distinguished a surgeon as his 
 countryman Dupuytren, was nevertheless a very dif- 
 ferent personage. I accompanied him in his visit at 
 the Hopital des Invalides ; but I saw no specimen of 
 his surgical art, and did not hear him lecture. He 
 was evidently the idol of his military patients, and 
 they were to him as if his children. His round full 
 features, long sleek hair, calm clear eye, quiet soft 
 voice, and staid deportment, gave him a benevolent 
 and captivating expression. He is said to have had 
 wonderful influence with Napoleon ; and great must 
 have been that influence, and well might the soldiery 
 love him, if the following story I was told of him be 
 true. After one of the great German victories it was 
 found that many soldiers of one particular corps had 
 been shot in the left hand, and thereby rendered unfit 
 for military service. Napoleon at once jumped to the 
 conclusion that these were all cases of voluntary mu- 
 tilation, and vowed vengeance. His threats reached 
 
234 NAPOLEON AND LARREY. 
 
 Larrey's ears, who at once went to him, and found 
 the great man's tiger nature thoroughly roused within 
 him. The men were all cowards ! Nothing less should 
 content him, or could satisfy the army, than a general 
 fusilade of the scoundrels ! " No, your Majesty ! " 
 said Larrey ; " do not think so ill of these poor men ! 
 They are not cowards : they are brave fellows. Be 
 pleased to recollect that their corps had to execute 
 a movement to the right flank. They marched with 
 sloped arms, and their left exposed to the enemy's line. 
 In such circumstances many men must have been hit 
 on the left hand, but none on the right. Depend on 
 it, these men were wounded in fight." 
 
 I had no opportunity of witnessing anything of 
 Larrey's surgery. I only hope it was sounder than his 
 physics. We came upon a veteran in bed, with ex- 
 tremely long moustaches, and on his right jaw a cup- 
 ping-glass, which was drawing blood very slightly 
 from the scarifications. Larrey made his dresser put 
 over the glass some fibrous matter steeped in spirit, 
 and set it on fire. An English army surgeon with 
 him asked what he expected to attain by so doing. 
 
 "That will rarefy the air in the interior, will it 
 not ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but you cannot increase the suction there- 
 by — quite the contrary." 
 
 " Comment done ? Pourquoi non ? Mais enfm — 
 cela les amuse — n'est-ce pas, camarade ? " addressing 
 the patient. 
 
 " Oui, monsieur ! Mais prenez garde a, mes mous- 
 taches ! " 
 
ESQUIROL AND THE SALPETRIERE. 235 
 
 Among the other hospitals visited, I inspected 
 narrowly one day the Hospital of St Louis, which is 
 set apart entirely for chronic cutaneous diseases. 
 
 I also visited, along with Coindet, the Hospice de 
 la SalpStriere for insane women, was introduced to 
 its famous physician, Esquirol, and accompanied him 
 on his rounds. At this time the treatment of the 
 insane by non- restraint, and in the society of one 
 another, was unknown in Britain, unless it might 
 have been adopted at so early a date in " The Retreat," 
 near York. Moreover, I had never seen a case of 
 insanity in confinement, or otherwise than in the 
 shape of a quiet inoffensive idiot in an Edinburgh 
 street. My astonishment may be conceived, there- 
 fore, when, on a door being opened into a great 
 dormitory of eighty beds, nearly as many women rushed 
 upon us from every part of the room, some coaxing, 
 a few threatening, most of them gesticulating, and 
 all chattering as only a female French chatterbox 
 can talk. I confess that at first I was not a little 
 alarmed, especially as I had not sufficient familiarity 
 with French to answer the multifarious appeals inces- 
 santly addressed to me. But becoming soon accus- 
 tomed to the unwonted scene, I was able to admire 
 the patience, wit, good - nature, and success with 
 which Esquirol answered their questions, granted or 
 waived their requests, and extricated himself at last 
 from the mob. Such seemed to be the whole treat- 
 ment in these chronic cases ; at least I did not ob- 
 serve any medicines prescribed. By much the 
 greater number of the inmates were indeed incurables. 
 
236 HOSPICE DES ENFANTS TROUVES. 
 
 Every stranger who goes to Paris visits the Hos- 
 pice des Enfans Trouves, or Foundling Hospital, and 
 I followed the rule, but as a general visitor only. 
 The little creatures were all swaddled so closel)' from 
 top to toe that they could not stir a joint, and their 
 nurses could lift and carry them like a bundle of sticks. 
 In cold weather, as when I was there, they were taken 
 in succession from their cribs and ranged, a dozen 
 and more at a time, on a sloping bench before a 
 roaring fire to be toasted. They do not remain long 
 in hospital, but are soon farmed out in the country. 
 Hence in 1818 the average number in the Hospice 
 was only 130; but 5190 were admitted in that year, 
 and the children in the country of all ages amounted 
 to 17,117. The mortality among them was fearful 
 in the time of " La Republique." Without resorting 
 to musketry or the guillotine, Liberty, Egalite, Fra- 
 ternite found out a new Massacre of the Innocents. 
 Of 3935 admitted in 1795, 3150 died, or 80 per cent 
 — probably through the same economy by starvation 
 which decimated the lunatics. A reformed system 
 arose under Napoleon ; and in 1813, of 5000 admitted 
 only 675 died — exactly 13 J per cent, or one-sixth of 
 the mortality under Republican rule. 
 
 During the winter of 1820-21 the attention of most 
 medical circles was divided between the recently pub- 
 lished inquiries of Laennec into the pathology of 
 pulmonary and cardiac diseases by means of his 
 invention, the stethoscope, and the novel doctrines 
 and practice of Broussais in regard to diseases at large. 
 After I left Paris, Cullen followed Laennec's hospital 
 
BROUSSAIS. 237 
 
 visits assiduously. But the fame of his investigations 
 did not reach us before I had begun work in Bobi- 
 quet's laboratory ; and any one who means to master 
 any branch of chemical analysis in a few months must 
 give up his days entirely to it. Consequently, much 
 to my regret, I never saw Laennec nor his hospital. 
 Broussais I did not greatly care to see, nor his work. 
 He advocated the doctrine that most diseases owed 
 their origin to inflammation somewhere, and were to 
 be treated by blood-letting, especially by means of 
 leeches used in handfnls. Though crowds followed 
 him at his hospital, he had the name of a charlatan 
 with his professional brethren ; and he was not far 
 from deserving it, if the account given to me by 
 Coindet of a visit to his hospital be a fair specimen of 
 the man. Coming up to a patient with a pointed 
 tongue, clean all but a foul streak down the centre, 
 — "Ah!" exclaimed he, "la langue pointue ! voila! 
 signe infaillible d'une gastrite ! Any appetite ? " 
 "Appetite? Yes; I could eat a horse." "Nean- 
 moins c'est gastrite. Any thirst ? " " No ; no thirst." 
 " Ne"anmoins, gastrite. Any pain in the stomach ? " 
 " No ; none at all." " Neanmoins, voila la langue 
 pointue ; c'est gastrite ! Cinquante sangsues a l'es- 
 tomac ! " He next stopped at a case of jaun- 
 dice, when he proceeded to explain that jaundice 
 depended almost always on inflammation of the 
 duodenum, passing up along the bile - ducts, and 
 occasioning in them congestion, thickening, and so 
 obstruction. In approaching another patient, he told 
 Coindet he should show him a case of a new form of 
 
238 BROUSSAIS. 
 
 muscular rheumatism which he had discovered, but of 
 which he gave a very vague account ; at the patient's 
 bedside, however, he was persuaded by his " Interne," 
 not without great difficulty, that the man had Mor- 
 bus coxarius. Coming to another case : " Here," said 
 he, " is a man with Colica pictonum, but we do not 
 treat that disease here by the ' traiteinent de La 
 Charite.' You know what that is?" "No; I do 
 not." " By eastor-od and other purgatives." " There 
 is nothing in that peculiar to the hospital of La 
 Charite. It is followed, I apprehend, everywhere 
 — certainly over all Britain and Switzerland. I 
 have myself seen it practised, and with invariable 
 success, in Geneva and at Edinburgh." "Vraiment, 
 c'est extraordinaire ! " Lastly, in relation to a case 
 of scarlatina, he said that the eruption was not 
 in its kind a true measure or test of danger — that 
 the real test was an affection of the bowels ; that 
 this was one of his discoveries ; that he had no doubt 
 his envious countrymen would claim it for some 
 foreign author or ancient writer, but that he had 
 satisfied himself that no author, ancient or modern, 
 had made mention of it ! 
 
 Of the professors of the fundamental and ancdlaiy 
 sciences of medicine, the first whose lectures I heard 
 was Bicherand. He was a quiet, unexciting, gentle- 
 manly lecturer, who appeared to treat his subject 
 rather too much, like Dr Duncan, senior, on the line 
 of the old waning school of physiology. 
 
 Vauquelin, Professor of Chimie Medicale in the 
 School of Medicine, taught pure chemistry — at least 
 
VAUQUELIN, DUMAS, GAY-LUSSAC. 239 
 
 nothing of its medical relations, so far as I heard him. 
 Although the patriarch of French chemists, he lec- 
 tured with spirit, and taught his science in its newest 
 phase. It was easy, however, to see that the students 
 thought it was time for him " solvere senescentem 
 equum." 
 
 The professorship of pharmacy, newly instituted for 
 Dumas, was said to have been founded not so much 
 for the sake of pharmacy itself, as to enable this 
 rising chemist to expound publicly his views regard- 
 ing organic chemistry, and the composition of organic 
 bodies. I heard only his introductory lectures, which 
 manifested great acuteness and grasp in this after- 
 wards eminent man. But they appeared to me beyond 
 the reach of ordinary students ; and certainly what I 
 heard bore little, if any, relation to pharmacy. 
 
 Turner and I heard Gay-Lussac lecture on mechan- 
 ical physics at the Jardin des Plantes. We began 
 with an odd adventure. On arrival, though not at 
 all late, we found a great horse-shoe " auditorium," 
 said to accommodate 1200 sitters, already very nearly 
 full. But within convenient distance, and right in 
 front of the professorial chair, we observed a vacant 
 space on three benches, capable of holding nine or ten 
 persons. Having ascertained that this was no privi- 
 leged preserve, we joyfully took possession, but under 
 an incomprehensible general titter among the students 
 around us. No sooner did the professor commence 
 than we discovered that he spoke from one focus of 
 an ellipse, while we sat in the other. As soon as the 
 professor began, we heard in the fraction of a second 
 
240 THENARD. 
 
 such an intolerable rattle of speakers in the same 
 voice from both sides and from behind, that we were 
 glad to beat a hasty retreat. Having thus made 
 ourselves the subject of a standard practical joke, we 
 were politely accommodated on the ends of benches 
 by dint of a little civil squeezing. Gay-Lussac was 
 perhaps the most persuasive lecturer I ever heard. 
 His figure was slender and handsome, his countenance 
 comely, his expression winning, his voice gentle but 
 firm and clear, his articulation perfect, his diction 
 terse and choice, his manner most attractive ; and his 
 lecture was a superlative specimen of continuous un- 
 assailable experimental reasoning. 
 
 Widely different was he in most respects from his 
 chemical colleague at the Jardin, and former col- 
 laborateur, Thenard. Thenard was a tall, powerful 
 man, with the head, front, curls, and eyes of a bull, 
 and a conformable voice, strong, rough, and com- 
 manding. His matter was excellent ; and he laid 
 it down with a slap from his tongue and a blow with 
 his fist, which made it irresistible. But the incessant 
 vigour, sans relache sans repose, made one long for 
 a little of his friend's no less persuasive quiet occa- 
 sionally. 
 
 Orfila, at this period Professor of Medical Juris- 
 prudence, was one of the most popular lecturers in 
 the medical school of Paris. The publication in 1814 
 of his vast experimental researches on poisons had 
 acquired for him the well-earned reputation of being 
 one of the most forward and successful inquirers of 
 the day. He had also physical advantages which 
 
ORFILA. 241 
 
 gave him great power as a speaker. He was a fine- 
 looking man, of elegant manners, and endowed with 
 a magnificent baritone voice, which enabled him to 
 address with ease, in a conversational tone, 1000 
 students in the great amphitheatre of the Ecole de 
 Me'decine. He was, moreover, an accomplished musi- 
 cian, and sang so well that it was currently said he 
 might have made a fortune had he taken to the opera 
 as a profession. But Orfila, preferring the path of 
 scientific inquiry, studied with untiring energy the 
 action of poisons, the details of their several effects, 
 the mode of detecting them in all varying circum- 
 stances, and their antidotes and treatment, — till he 
 erected Toxicology on a solid foundation as a science. 
 I did not hear him lecture till his course of instruc- 
 tion commenced in April [1821], a few days before 
 I had to take leave of Paris. But I caught some- 
 what of his spirit, — as appeared soon in subsecpient 
 events. 
 
 I had been advised by Dr Edwards to frequent the 
 sittings of the scientific department of the Institute, 
 which accordingly I attended pretty regularly. There 
 I had the opportunity of becoming familiar with the 
 countenances at least of not a few of the great leaders 
 of science whom Napoleon delighted to honour — La- 
 place, Cuvier, Pinel, Biot, Arago, Marmont, Ampere, 
 Abbe" Hany, Berthollet, Magendie, besides Vauquelin, 
 Thenard, Gay-Lussac, &c, already mentioned. 
 
 Laplace had a very venerable appearance — a slen- 
 der figure, small sharp features, a high prominent 
 
 VOL. I. Q 
 
242 MEMBERS OF THE INSTITUTE. 
 
 wide brow, white locks hanging straight down his 
 temples, and a benevolent droop of the lower lip. I 
 heard him speak only once, and but a few words — 
 with a bitterness which I was far from expecting in a 
 man of so engaging an expression of countenance, and 
 one belonging so eminently to the animis celestibus. 
 A discussion arose on a mathematical paper by a 
 young aspirant. At the close the President asked. 
 " Qu'est ce qu'en pense M. de Laplace ? " To which 
 the philosopher replied, " Monsieur le President, je 
 n'en pense pas du tout ! " 
 
 He usually sat and talked with Berthollet the 
 chemist, a tall muscular man, with a hooked nose and 
 chin, a wide smiling mouth, and a high broad fore- 
 head — altogether reminding me very much of the 
 Scotch Lord Gray. 
 
 Marshal Marmont, member by virtue of his repu- 
 tation as a mathematician, was always a conspicuous 
 figure in this assemblage. He was a stout, rather tall 
 man, with a countenance formed on the same model 
 as that of Professor Jameson, contemplative in 
 expression, and wholly wanting in that fierceness of 
 look which the modern French officer thought it 
 soldierly to assume in the streets and other public 
 places. His brow was much wrinkled, his cheeks 
 deeply furrowed, his eyes large and jDrominent, his 
 eyebrows black and immensely bushy — the whole 
 features bearing the impression of much thought, the 
 fatigues of war, and the vicissitudes of climate and of 
 weather. 
 
 Arago, '" Secretaire Perpetuel " of the Institute 
 
MEMBERS OF THE INSTITUTE. 243 
 
 (subsequently well known in Edinburgh society as a 
 distinguished visitor of the British Association when 
 it met here for the first time in 1834), read some 
 papers of his own, and took a prominent part in the 
 discussion of others. He was a tall muscular man, 
 whose face was an improved edition of that of Sir 
 William Hamilton, smooth and calm when in repose, 
 but wonderfully animated and flexible while he spoke 
 and was stirred up in argument. 
 
 Pelletier, with his coadjutor Caventou, had been 
 for a few years astonishing physicians and chemists 
 by the discovery of the active proximate principles of 
 various important poisonous and medicinal plants ; 
 and in this year was produced their elaborate and 
 admirable inquiry into the composition of the cinchona 
 barks and the properties of their alkaloids, their acid 
 and their colouring matters. 
 
 Hany, the prince in crystallography among the 
 mineralogists of Europe, the solitary clergyman of the 
 assembly, wore the ecclesiastical dress of his order. 
 Pinel, founder of the now universal humane treatment 
 of insanity, had an aged and infirm look. Cuvier was 
 easily singled out by his broad face, hooked nose and 
 chin, and very large head — a head so large that the 
 brain was found after death to weigh sixty -four 
 ounces. But these philosophers sat too far off for 
 me to scan particularly their physiognomies. 
 
 More perhaps than with any one else at these 
 meetings, I was charmed with Ampere, because I 
 heard several of his papers, describing his progressive 
 discoveries on the electrical nature of magnetism. He 
 
244 AMPfeBE. 
 
 was a shy, simple-hearted, downward-looking man, 
 and evidently a great favourite with the members. By 
 favour of Dr Edwards, I had the privilege of attend- 
 ing a private demonstration of his chief experiments 
 by Ampere himself, at his own house, to a few of the 
 principal members of the Institute. The philosopher 
 was not an adroit experimentalist before an audience, 
 and would probably have sometimes failed to elicit 
 what he meant to show, but for the assistance of 
 Arago. With the kindly help, however, of the Secre- 
 taire Perpetuel, he made cylinders of coiled iron wire, 
 and other shapes similarly constituted, perform all the 
 wonders of the magnet and magnetic compass, when- 
 ever a stream of electricity was sent through them. 
 
 I heard Magendie read to the Institute a Sup- 
 plement to his grand investigations into Absorption 
 by the Veins. He began by recalling the general 
 results of his previous Meinoires, showing that the 
 lacteal vessels are destined to absorb chyle only, and 
 that the function of absorption in general is carried 
 on by the veins. In his new Memoire he showed how 
 this function is accomplished in the absence of open 
 mouths — viz., that it is effected by capillary attraction 
 through the coats of the veins. 
 
 To Magendie I was indebted for my first oppor- 
 tunity of witnessing the operation of a poison. A 
 fighting wild boar of the " Combats des Animaux " 
 having become paralysed in the hind-legs, and con- 
 sequently no longer fit for military service, was 
 presented to the Museum of the Ecole de Me'de- 
 cine, and it was resolved to despatch him, under the 
 
MAGENDIE. 245 
 
 superintendence of Magendie and Breschet, with 
 strychnia, the newly discovered alkaloid of nux- 
 vomica. One-third of a grain dissolved in spirit was 
 injected into the pleural cavity of the wild boar, 
 which was soon seized with tetanic convulsions, and 
 died in ten minutes. A similar experiment, made on 
 a dog with the sixth of a grain, proved fatal in two 
 minutes. 
 
 I was also indebted, though indirectly, to M. Ma- 
 gendie for the much rarer opportunity of attending 
 some experiments on dog -madness. Hydrophobia 
 had been not long before so frequent among the 
 townspeople, that the Prefecture ordered a raid 
 upon the numberless stray dogs in the city, and re- 
 quested a scientific inquiry regarding the disease. 
 The inquiry was intrusted to Magendie, who com- 
 mitted it to Breschet, by whom it was sub-committed 
 to Cullen. Breschet, afterwards professor of anat- 
 omy, and at this period " Chef de Travaux Ana- 
 tomiques," had made, William Cullen his prosector, 
 having previously found young anatomists from a 
 British school to be finer dissectors than his own 
 young anatomical countrymen, and therefore more 
 able to supply him with good dissections for his 
 lectures and demonstrations. So Cullen came to 
 be for some time superintendent of the experiments 
 on mad dogs. These were carried on at the " Com- 
 bats des Animaux" already mentioned, — a place of 
 amusement outside the Barriere de Clichy, where 
 eighty ferocious dogs of every fierce breed were kept 
 for baiting bears, wild boars, donkeys, monkeys, and 
 
246 EXPERIMENTS ON MAD DOGS. 
 
 one another, to the great enjoyment of the Parisians, 
 by whom a substitute was thus found for the gladiaT 
 torial combats of their Latin ancestors. I never 
 went, or felt any curiosity to go, to any of these 
 brutal spectacles. But I was told that the most suc- 
 cessful combatant was a monkey, who contrived to van- 
 quish all canine foes, usually by cutting their carotid 
 arteries with his sharp teeth. On first entering with 
 Cullen the yard where the dogs were kept, chained 
 each to his own kennel, they set up a general concert 
 of frantic barking, amidst which Cullen called my 
 attention to a cry quite different from all the rest, 
 commencing with a bark, but instantly changed to a 
 short sharp howl or painful yell. " That," said Cul- 
 len, " is our mad dog ; and they say here it is a per- 
 fectly diagnostic sign." The method of securing the 
 diseased animals was simple and efficacious. They 
 were kept in a railed pen, with a chain round the 
 neck, rove through a ring in the back of the pen, 
 and thence brought to a hook in front. Thus it was 
 easy to draw an animal close up to the ring, and 
 there to operate on him, or muzzle him for removal. 
 The gardien, however, as well as madame la gard- 
 ienne, his wife, went fearlessly, but, as I thought, 
 unnecessarily, among the poor creatures in their dens. 
 The experiments were carried on with the formidable 
 precaution of a burning charcoal choffer and red-hot 
 cauterising irons at hand ; but they were never re- 
 quired. The experiments went no further, so far as 
 my acquaintance with them goes, than to prove that 
 the disease, as manifested in the dog, was reproduced 
 
EXPERIENCE TURNED TO USE. 247 
 
 with exactly the same characters in six weeks or 
 two months in another dog by an express bite, by 
 inoculation with a sponge previously well bitten and 
 then applied to a fresh wound, but not by inocula- 
 tion with the blood ; and that the only deviation 
 from the healthy state of the organs, discoverable 
 after death, was slight redness of the pharynx and 
 glottis, fairly attributable to thirst, inability to drink, 
 and frequent crying. The diseased dogs were invari- 
 ably very quiet, because not teased as when in free- 
 dom ; and a good deal of teasing was required to 
 make them bite another animal. Healthy dogs were 
 very averse to go near them, and struggled violently 
 against being pushed beside them. 
 
 Other results than those now mentioned I never 
 heard of. I suppose the inquiry fell to the ground 
 after Cullen gave it up ; at least no account of it 
 was ever published. The failure proved of no great 
 moment ; for the whole inquiry into every question 
 regarding Rabies canina, that appears solvable by 
 experiment and observation on animals, was fully 
 investigated in 1828 by Hertwig of Berlin. 
 
 The experience thus gained, however, was of use to 
 me afterwards. Not long after my return home, a 
 daughter of my uncle-in-law, Mr Walter G. Cassels, 
 then a banker in Leith, was bitten by a big watch- 
 dog, which had been allowed to get loose from his 
 customary chain. Mr Cassels, aware that I was 
 acquainted with the rabies of dogs, came in great 
 anxiety for advice. The most essential point was to 
 ascertain whether the suspected animal had the dis- 
 
248 HYDROPHOBIA RARE IN EDINBURGH. 
 
 ease, so I went at once to Leith with him for the 
 purpose. On opening a door at the entrance of a 
 long narrow lane, the culprit sprang from his watch- 
 box at the other end, and tugged at his chain with 
 a grand clear bow-wow-wow that enabled me to turn 
 on my heel and assure the anxious parent that the 
 dog was no more mad than himself. 
 
 It was at one time my intention to follow out 
 the French inquiry myself. Accordingly, soon after 
 settling at home, I applied to the Edinburgh author- 
 ities to obtain for me the first mad dog that could be 
 safely secured alive. But they never could supply 
 me, or at all events never did. In fact, it appears 
 that rabies is rare here anions; the canine race, though 
 dogs both of good breeds and currish are extremely 
 numerous. Two cases only of hydrophobia in man 
 have occurred in Edinburgh down to the year 1872 
 during my professional life. I saw the first about 
 1836, — a poor boy of twelve years of age, who died at 
 a farm not far from Lochend, in all the characteristic 
 tortures of the disease. The second was a policeman 
 who died of it a few years afterwards in the Royal 
 Infirmary. In neither instance was the dog traced ; 
 but both had been bitten about six weeks before being 
 taken ill. Eabies therefore must be uncommon in the 
 Edinburgh district. 
 
 It is not so, however, if the statement and opinion 
 may be trusted of a very good fellow and apparently 
 high authority, the late Mr William Dick, who founded 
 the Veterinary College in Clyde Street. Dick was a 
 farrier who educated himself. In my student days he 
 
MR w. dick's views. 249 
 
 attended along with me Dr Barclay's first course 
 of lectures on comparative anatomy, which con- 
 sisted in a great measure of a demonstration of the 
 muscles of a highly odoriferous donkey. Dick was 
 never anything else than a rough diamond, clever and 
 experienced, but unlearned ; and, like most men of 
 that kind, he had little regard for the experience of 
 any one but himself. On the occurrence of one of 
 the cases just mentioned, the subject was taken up in 
 the Medico-Chirurgical Society, and Dick was invited 
 as a visitor. He forthwith proceeded to enlighten the 
 members, but created great darkness and astonish- 
 ment, by assuring us that there was no such disease as 
 a Eabies canina communicable to man by a bite ; that 
 the malady so called was so common among our dogs, 
 that he saw from two to three hundred cases of it 
 every year ; that it was an inflammatory disease of the 
 Schneiderian membrane of the nose, tending to sup- 
 puration, and to spread into the glottis and larynx ; 
 that he had satisfied himself by frequent trial of its 
 being uncommunicable to another dog by biting, or 
 any other way of inoculation ; and that the hydro- 
 phobia of man was a nervous or hysterical affection, 
 the result of fear and self-suggestion. The confusion 
 thus arising in the Society's mind was partly cleared 
 up by my positive assurance that I had seen rabies 
 expressly communicated from one dog to another, 
 both by biting and by direct inoculation ; and that 
 no such appearances as Dick had described were ever 
 found in these animals. I then asked him if he had 
 read Hertwig's inquiry on this subject, to which he 
 
250 HERTWIG OX RABIES. 
 
 answered, " No," — as I presumed he would, the treatise 
 having appeared only in the original German dress. 
 Whereupon I exhorted him to do so, and that he 
 would find a most elaborate investigation had brought 
 out every point directly contrary to what he had been 
 maintaining ; and that in particular Hertwig had care- 
 fully described the Schneiderian disease, because he 
 had found that it was apt to be mistaken for rabies — 
 by those who had never seen the true disease. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 INCIDENTS AND CHEMICAL STUDY IN PARIS. 
 
 THE CATACOMBS MON DIBU ! QUELLE FIGURE ! CHARLES ADAIR S 
 
 DUEL AMICABLE CONTEST WITH HIM ANTIMONY IN PNEUMONIA 
 
 A DIETETIC DECEPTION A NEW - YEARS - DAY DINNER 
 
 NAPOLEON AND THE SWISS REGIMENTS DISTRIBUTION DE 
 
 VIVRES CUVIER'S MUSEUM ROBIQUET's LABORATORY MY 
 
 CHEMICAL WORK CONSCIENTIOUSNESS REQUIRED IN ORGANIC 
 
 ANALYSIS POURQUOI NE PORTEZ-VOUS PAS LE JUPON 1 
 
 I had not long settled down to regular study when 
 the thread was broken, agreeably however, by the 
 arrival, on a week's visit to Paris, of two old High 
 School companions, Robert Mercer and William 
 Pringle, who, almost ignorant of French, threw them- 
 selves on my generosity for one day's guidance to the 
 sights of the capital. To them I thus owed a visit to 
 the Catacombs, well known to be the subterranean 
 quarries, outside the southerly Barriere de l'Enfer, 
 from which much of Paris has been built, but which 
 had been converted into a receptacle for the accumu- 
 lated bones of the city graves and vaults. This im- 
 mense repository is a series of narrow passages, the 
 walls of which are lined with methodical piles of dry 
 
252 LES TROIS FRERES PROVEN<?AUX. 
 
 bones arranged according to kind — -skulls here, arm- 
 bones there, thigh-bones elsewhere, &c. In one place a 
 collection had been made of diseased bones, past which, 
 however, our conductor guided us too fast for exam- 
 ination. I noticed as evidence of bad former surgery 
 an anchylosis of the elbow-joint, two of the shoulder, 
 and two of the hip. Quite apart from all the rest, 
 on a special pedestal, was an extraordinary skull, the 
 facial angle of which exceeded a right angle, but which 
 seemed in other respects altogether natural. Our in- 
 curious guide had no story about it to tell us. There 
 was no disagreeable odour in the place. The exact 
 method in which the bones were arranged took off 
 the sombre expression natural to such a scene ; nor 
 did this multitudinous testimony to the frailty of 
 man seem to exert much sobering influence on the 
 group of visitors who descended along with us. On 
 the contrary, it appeared to be treated as a museum : 
 the ladies were often lauo-hina; ; and I observed 
 some English girls pluck out teeth from a skull for 
 a memorial. 
 
 After a long excursion among the other memorabilia 
 of Paris, I took my friends to the " Trois Freres Pro- 
 vencaux," a famous restaurant in the Palais Royal, — 
 enabled them to dine sumptuously, to their surprise, 
 for six francs a-head, including a bottle of cham- 
 pagne, — and then turned them at their request into 
 the adjoining, theatre. They confessed afterwards 
 that, having begun dinner very thirsty with their 
 long day's walk, by drinking their full share of ;i 
 bottle of Bordeaux wine before taking any food, this 
 
A CLAIM ON MY GALLANTRY. 253 
 
 and the champagne together had made them tem- 
 porarily so oblivious that, on coming afterwards to 
 their senses, they were bewildered to find themselves 
 listening to an unintelligible French comedy in the 
 pit of the Theatre Francais. 
 
 Another break into my studies was occasioned by a 
 claim on my gallantry. I received in the early morn- 
 ing a letter from my brother John in Edinburgh, 
 
 recommending Miss to my services in her way 
 
 through Paris to Tours. The introduction happened 
 to be inopportune. I was, in fact, in bed, suffering 
 from the after-effects of laudanum, taken for tooth- 
 ache, which had not been relieved by the rough ex- 
 traction of a decayed tooth. A dentist on the Quai 
 Voltaire, apparently thriving, no sooner had inspect- 
 ed the tooth, than in one second his tooth-key was 
 applied, and in another second the tooth was in his 
 hand ; but the toothache was not cured by this 
 violence. I afterwards saw him on a platform at his 
 door, drawing (sound ?) teeth from the passers-by for 
 two sous a tug : I paid him five francs. There was 
 no help for my predicament ; but I consoled myself 
 with the belief that I was to make the acquaintance 
 of some fair young countrywoman, and the fresh 
 morning air did me much good on my way to her 
 residence, the Hotel Meurice. There I found my 
 charge was a very different sort of person — a lady 
 d'un certain age, with whom I had made a slight and 
 transient acquaintance in the north of Scotland. She 
 was bound for Tours, absolutely ignorant of French. 
 
254 HON DIEU ! QUELLE FIGURE! 
 
 Miss ■ was decidedly not young, very tall — quite 
 
 of my own stature indeed — square-shouklerett, plain 
 in features, but with an unmistakable air of the gen- 
 tility in which she had been born and bred. At a 
 time when French fashion exacted an extremely low 
 waist, a loose flowing robe, and a big straw bonnet, 
 she wore, as an economical traveller, an ancient, 
 light-blue, close-fitting cloth pelisse, with a waist on 
 a level with the armpits ; a gay silk tartan scarf 
 thrown diagonally across the right shoulder in the 
 manner of a sergeant's sash ; a round fur cap, and 
 under it a great square black veil over face, shoulders, 
 and back. Such an apparition on the streets of Paris 
 became an object of wonderment to those who passed 
 us. I observed the people we met invariably turn 
 round after passing, to see how she looked from 
 behind ; and I overheard one lady mutter to her 
 cavalier, " Mon Dieu ! quelle figure ! " I had expected 
 to be her cicerone to the sights of Paris, but I soon 
 found that her almost sole attraction was the shops — 
 of milliners, bonnet-makers, jewellers, and euriosit}-- 
 dealers. She came out of them, however, unserved 
 and apparently dissatisfied, and with the exclamation, 
 ' ; Too dear! too dear!" In our walk we arrived at 
 last at the arcades of the Palais Royal, when I warned 
 her to buy nothing there, because the most skilful 
 higgler could not escape without paying twice as 
 much as in a shop outside. The truth then came out, 
 that she had no intention to make purchases, but 
 merely to examine and price the articles. In vain I 
 invented the fiction that such was not the practice in 
 
CHARLES ADAIR. 255 
 
 Paris ; and I was reduced to escape from being par- 
 ticeps criminis by the further fiction that I was unable 
 to be her interpreter, owing to my ignorance of the 
 French terms of trade. She persevered nevertheless, 
 and it was wonderful to see how she contrived civilly 
 to give the shop-people a great deal of trouble, and 
 yet to make herself understood without one word of 
 French — her last words being invariably, " Too dear ! 
 oh, much too clear ! " 
 
 I spent thus a long uncongenial forenoon, but was 
 relieved from my post by the lady's departure for Tours 
 next morning. She was very kind to me, however, 
 for many years afterwards in Edinburgh, and never 
 forgot to renew her thanks for the pleasant forenoon 
 I had enabled her to spend in Paris. 
 
 I know not why I should retain so vividly, and 
 here recall, so trifling an incident. It was my first 
 lesson in shopping with a lady, and it has been my 
 last. I fretted at the time like a chained monkey. 
 But I have often since enjoyed both Miss 's pro- 
 ceedings and my own discomfort. 
 
 About this time happened an exciting event in our 
 little circle. An Edinburgh fellow- citizen, Charles 
 Adair, had got into a quarrel with a Frenchman at 
 the masked ball of the Opera, and a duel was the 
 consequence. Adair, a well-known character among 
 the young men of Edinburgh, had passed as Writer 
 to the Signet, but changing his mind, began the 
 study of medicine, and in its pursuit went to Paris 
 in his third medical session. Although I had known 
 
256 A DUEL. 
 
 him long, he was never much more than a bowing 
 acquaintance, for his pursuits and mine did not bring 
 us together. He was a red-haired, athletic, agile 
 man of six feet one, not bright, good-natured, and 
 decidedly harum-scarum. It was in character for 
 him, therefore, to go to the masked ball of the Opera 
 in the part of a drunken Englishman. But some of 
 his practical jokes were taken cm serieux, and next 
 morning he found several cards of exchange in his 
 waistcoat-pocket. One only brought forth fruit. An 
 envoy arrived with a cartel of defiance to the Bois 
 de Boulogne with pistols. 
 
 Cullen, chosen by Adair for his second, proved in 
 his novel position, as he did in every other, quite in 
 his element. " What shall be the distance ? " said he 
 to his French brother,— " twelve or eight paces?" 
 " Ah, monsieur," replied he, " c'est beaucoup trop 
 pres ! Vingt, ou plutot vingt-quatre pas, s'il vous 
 plait ! C'est la distance legitime en France." " Eh 
 bien, monsieur ! Yous savez que nous sommes ici 
 pour vous plaire. C'est a vous a choisir." Adair, 
 who did not want for courage, demurred to this as 
 child's-play, and said they might as well fire into 
 empty space. But twent3 T -four paces it was. The 
 Frenchman's bullet was nowhere. Adair's hit the 
 ground immediately in front of his antagonist, and 
 threw the gravel upon him. " Load again," ex- 
 claimed Cullen. But the French second interposed, 
 — "Non, monsieur ! C'est assez ! La querelle n'etait 
 pas grande chose. L'honneur de mon ami est satis- 
 faite." " Bien ! bien ! monsieur. Nous sommes ici 
 
WHO SHOULD BELL THE CAT? 257 
 
 pour vous plaire." Adair was again disposed to 
 demur, and said they were trifling with so serious a 
 matter, and would all be laughed at. But Cullen was 
 master of ceremonies. The combatants bowed to one 
 another, and the party separated. 
 
 Not long afterwards I had myself a conflict with 
 Adair, a peaceful conflict of opinion, nevertheless 
 on a very serious question. Our original quartet 
 dinner-party, consisting of Turner, Cullen, Coindet, 
 and myself, had received the accession of Dr Julius 
 Eoberts of London, and his friend Dr Satterley from 
 Devonshire — both of whom graduated at Edinburgh 
 the year after me. In a short while Satterley ceased 
 to appear at our restaurant-table : in a few days 
 Roberts found that his friend was desperately ill with 
 pneumonia ; and he added the appalling information 
 that he had no other medical advice than that of 
 Charlie Adair in the third year of his medical studies ; 
 and that Adair, by repeated free venesection, was 
 apparently bleeding to death a rather fragile subject 
 for the lancet even in those bloodthirsty days. 
 Roberts, unacquainted with Adair, had not had cour- 
 age to interfere. Evidently, however, interference 
 was imperative, if our companion's life was to be 
 saved ; and after some playful discussion as to him 
 who should bell the cat, in view of Adair's recent 
 exploit, it was settled that I, as his acquaintance, and 
 conversant with the treatment of pneumonia in the 
 Edinburgh Infirmary, should face the difficulty, with 
 Coindet for my backer. We had a consultation with 
 Adair the same evening. Our poor friend was in 
 
 VOL. I. E 
 
258 ANTIMONY IN PNEUMONIA. 
 
 great straits, so that I very much feared he might 
 die during the night. Besides every other sign of 
 urgent danger, he had that hurried, full, jerking, but 
 most easily extinguishable pulse, which, among other 
 causes, owes its origin to much loss of blood, and 
 which is very apt to be mistaken by the inexperi- 
 enced, as it was by Adair, for the strong pulse of true 
 reaction. I was not surprised, therefore, that Adair 
 proposed " Iterum seignare, iterurn purgare, iterurn, 
 &c." But I explained as delicately as possible how 
 matters stood, and the double cause of danger — con- 
 tinuing pneumonia and exhaustion by loss of blood ; 
 and I assured him our best chance lay in the anti- 
 phlogistic power of tartar-emetic in nauseating doses, 
 and a little wine should the depressing effect become 
 too great. Adair stood manfully to his principles, 
 but was overruled by my determination and experi- 
 ence, and the hearty concurrence of Coindet. As 
 soon as nausea set in, relief was felt by our patient ; 
 and when we all met again next morning the im- 
 provement was marvellous, so that I confidently 
 promised him recovery. He did recover thoroughly, 
 but died of consumption a few years after settling 
 as a physician in the south of England. 
 
 This incident was of service to me in my profes- 
 sorial Hfe, when I had to refute in my lectures on 
 Materia Medica, and also on Clinical Medicine, the 
 ignorant notion of numbers of men, that nothing was 
 known of the use of antimony in pneumonia till 
 Rasori in Italy, and Laennec in France, wrote on it, 
 or in this country till my colleague Bennett trans- 
 
FATE OF ADAIR. 259 
 
 planted it from abroad. Cullen clearly advises the 
 use of nauseating doses of tartar -emetic in pneu- 
 monia ; and Bennett must have forgotten that when 
 he attended my lectures on Materia Medica as a 
 student in 1832-33, he heard the preceding story 
 in all its details. Rasori was the first to apply 
 the contra-stimulant action of tartar-emetic to the 
 treatment of pneumonia. But he was not the first 
 discoverer of that action, which is categorically de- 
 scribed by Dr Marryat of Birmingham in the sixth 
 edition of his 'Art of Healing,' published in 1777, 
 twenty-four years before Rasori wrote. 
 
 The subsequent fate of Adair was very sad. He 
 was, as already stated, an agile athlete — insomuch 
 that a year or two after his adventures in Paris, hav- 
 ing returned to Edinburgh, he undertook to repeat 
 the extraordinary pedestrian exploit of one Swailes, 
 a Yorkshireman, who a short time previously ran 
 from Edinburgh to Glasgow, a distance of forty- 
 two miles, within six hours. Adepts held that the 
 feat could not be accomplished without covering 
 eighteen miles in the first two hours. This, it was 
 said, Adair had done in training. But a bad sprained 
 ankle put an end — perhaps luckily for him — to his 
 enterprise. Evidently then he must have been a 
 man of rare sterling constitution. Nevertheless he 
 became not long afterwards one of the victims, un- 
 happily far too common at the time in this country, 
 of blood-poisoning from a dissection-wound. He had 
 cut or scratched one of his knuckles at a pathological 
 dissection ; an ugly fiery furuncle formed over the 
 
260 A DIETETIC DECEPTION. 
 
 wound ; Adair laid it open himself with an abscess- 
 lancet ; phlebitis and diffuse cellular inflammation 
 followed ; and, after spreading extensively, this proved 
 fatal in a few days. It is remarkable too — in face 
 of his powerful frame and apparently fine constitu- 
 tion — that tubercles were found after death to have 
 begun to form in the lungs. 
 
 Our dining-party of six made a rather curious 
 experiment in diet, which the dietetic philosophy of 
 the day could not explain to us. Our restaurant, 
 near the Palais Royal, supplied us, at three francs 
 a-head, with a good dinner, consisting, according to 
 Parisian rule, of soup, three dishes, a pint of " vin 
 ordinaire de Bordeaux," and a capital crusty roll, a 
 foot long, narrow, and shaped like a spindle, tapering 
 to a point at each end. One of our party, however, 
 discovered a restaurant near the Ecole de Medecine, 
 where he was assured that the same sort of dinner 
 was to be had for two francs and a half. So, on 
 economical thoughts intent, we migrated in a body 
 to the " Pays Latin," and took out a fourteen-da3 r 
 subscription to the new table. Before our abonne- 
 ment came to an end, however, we found, on com- 
 paring notes, that, though all quite well, we were not 
 so strong as before, and got through our forenoon's 
 work more heavily. We suspected our dietary. There 
 was no apparent defect as to quantity, compared with 
 our previous allowances ; and to the taste all was 
 right. But we came to the conclusion that the 
 materiel was somehow wanting in nutriment, and 
 unanimously resolved to return to our former quarters. 
 
A NEW- YEAR S-DAY DINNER. 261 
 
 There certainly we found in a few days that we re- 
 covered strength and alertness as before. The only 
 explanation I can now see is, that clever cookery con- 
 cealed articles deficient either in nitrogenous con- 
 stituents or in the aromatic juice of meat. 
 
 We allowed ourselves the indulgence of only one 
 festive dinner during the winter. On New- Year's 
 Day we agreed that it should be celebrated more 
 solito, and repaired to the " Trois Freres Provencaux." 
 Our party of six had a first-rate dinner ; drank seven- 
 teen bottles of French wine, including champagne, 
 Chambertin, and Lafitte, at a charge of seventeen 
 francs a-head ; sang many songs, contrary to tavern 
 rule, but with permission from the waiter, provided 
 we did not " chanter haut " ; and at a reasonably late 
 hour walked steadily home together, singing " God 
 save the King" and "Rule Britannia" as we passed 
 the sentries. 
 
 I once described this pleasant feast to my labora- 
 tory assistants while my late most amiable colleague, 
 Dr George Wilson, was one of them. He wrote the 
 tale, together with other laboratory stories and jokes, 
 to his brother the archaeologist, then residing in 
 London. After George's death this letter turned up ; 
 and to my astonishment the festival at the Trois 
 Freres appeared, with the characters of a rather 
 desperate orgy, in a proof-sheet of his biography 
 by his sister, who sent it to me for the exercise 
 of my censorship. " Oh, insana gens fceminea ! " 
 I advised her to refer to Dr John Brown, who 
 reduced the narrative to more sober proportions — 
 
2G2 NAPOLEON AND THE SWISS REGIMENTS. 
 
 regretting, however, to " spoil the best part of the 
 book." 
 
 Coiudet told me the following interesting adven- 
 ture of the Swiss troops who were in the service of 
 Louis XVIII. when Napoleon, returning from Elba, 
 commenced his brief second reign of The Hundred 
 Da5^s. For many centuries the French monarchs had 
 maintained in their pay a body of Swiss troops, which 
 had of late amounted to 15,000 men. These soldiers 
 were not directly enlisted by the French ruler, but 
 have always been sent embodied from Switzerland 
 by agreement with the Swiss Diet. They were bound 
 by a mibtary oath both to the Diet and to their 
 French temporary master. 
 
 On Napoleon's successful invasion of France from 
 Elba, they had a rather nice part to play. Louis 
 XVIIL, to whom their oath bound them while king, 
 had left them amidst the French soldiery, who had 
 all joined the usurper ; but their fealty to the Diet 
 remained in force. When Napoleon had made secure 
 for a time his unexampled conquest, he ordered a 
 review in the Champ de Mars of all the troops in 
 the vicinity of Paris ; and the Swiss regiments were 
 summoned as well as the French. The hour of review 
 arrived — but no Swiss troops. A messenger was sent 
 to their nearest post, to command their immediate 
 appearance. The order was received by Colonel 
 Dafry, the senior commander of the contingent, who 
 returned for answer that his regiment should not 
 join the review. No better success followed a second 
 message of a threatening nature. Napoleon saw his 
 
COLONEL DAFRY. 263 
 
 troops pass before him, but not one Swiss regiment 
 to add to his triumph. He returned to the Tuileries 
 in no mild humour, and ordered Colonel Dafry to 
 appear before him. The Colonel obeyed, and repaired 
 alone into the presence of the triumphant Emperor, 
 seated in the midst of his adoring officers. At the 
 door of the audience -chamber he encountered two 
 officials, who demanded his sword. Dafry half un- 
 sheathed it, telling them that " the bravest might 
 try to take it ; " and he walked unmolested into the 
 presence of the Emperor. He was immediately asked 
 why he did not obey the order to join the review 
 with his regiment. He was commencing his answer 
 with, " Because, General," when Napoleon, half 
 choked with passion, exclaimed, " Do you know 
 whom you address ? " "I do ; I address General 
 Bonaparte." The consequence of Colonel Dafry's dar- 
 ing conduct was that the baffled Emperor, fearing to 
 touch him, abused him heartily, and dismissed him. 
 
 Not long afterwards, the 15,000 Swiss marched 
 home to their own country undisturbed through 
 several hundred miles of an unfriendly land. 
 
 I have not seen, in the numerous histories of The 
 Hundred Days, any allusion to this episode. If it 
 never happened, I can only say, " Se non e vero, e 
 ben trovato." If it did happen, Napoleon was clearly 
 in the wrong ; but, as he had himself followed the 
 example of the legitimate autocrats, and kept many 
 thousands of Swiss in his pay, it was not unnatural 
 for him to think, in the intoxication of success, that 
 King Louis's Swiss troops might be swayed by the 
 
26-i DISTRIBUTION DE VIVRES. 
 
 example of the others. Colouel Dafry was, of course, 
 clearly in the right, — so clearly, that he was in no 
 danger, if Napoleon took one moment to reflect on 
 the consequences of any vengeful severity. 
 
 Before settling clown in the first days of November 
 to a long term of steady work with M. Eobiquet, 
 I visited some sights of Paris, which may deserve 
 notice. 
 
 Our party went to the Champs Elysees on the Fete 
 de St Louis, to witness a " Distribution de Yivres." 
 The favoured persons were the lowest of the town 
 rabble, who were densely packed in front of a few 
 square boxes of the size and height of Punch's Theatre. 
 A stopcock at the bottom supplied wine to those in 
 the crowd who could get at it ; and a man at the top 
 threw all round him long, narrow, pointed rolls of 
 bread among the close pack of people, to the imminent 
 danger of their upturned noses. Such was a " Distri- 
 bution de Vivres " — an institution eminently French, 
 savouring of the nation's love of ostentation. A Brit- 
 ish distribution is for the proved necessitous only, and 
 is carried on quietly within doors. 
 
 We all went also to the Fete de St Cloud, to see 
 the French equivalent of a Scotch fair. We were 
 much amused with the facility with which our vol- 
 atile neighbours, whatever their rank of life, seemed 
 to be entertained. We could not help remarking 
 also the total absence of drunkenness. During all 
 my stay at Paris, I only met with a single instance 
 of intoxication, and that was naturally at the " Dis- 
 
coindet's eloquence. 265 
 
 tribution de Vivres." Coindet and I met a party re- 
 turning with empty barrels swung from poles, and 
 escorted by a few tipsy pioneers. As the party ap- 
 proached, one of the pioneers, with evident purpose, 
 staggered from a goodly distance violently against 
 us. Coindet received the blow, but so steadily that 
 the assailant was thrown off and pitched upon his 
 nose. His companions at once stopped and turned 
 upon us with furious looks and gesticulations, which 
 made me think a melee inevitable. But Coindet over- 
 whelmed the men with a perfect torrent of reproaches : 
 for insulting peaceful strangers ; and during the brief 
 parley which ensued, the men had time to tell one 
 another that we were " deux Anglais qui tous savent 
 bien boxer." So they picked up their prostrate com- 
 rade, and went on their noisy way with their empty 
 wine-barrels. I do not say, however, that my ex- 
 perience proves that the Paris working classes do not 
 drink. The hospital physicians of the capital could 
 
 1 Sir Robert used to tell another anecdote illustrating Coindet's ex- 
 traordinary " gift of the gab." One evening they went together to a 
 theatre in Paris, but found such a long queue that, if they had taken 
 their proper place at the end of it, their chance of getting seats would 
 have been very small. Coindet, perceiving a gap near the head of the 
 queue where a space on the pavement was kept clear for traffic, coolly 
 placed his friend and himself in rear of the fragment of the queue nearest 
 to the theatre. Instantly there arose loud remonstrances and shouts of 
 indignation, particularly from the two Frenchmen at the head of the 
 queue on the further side of the pavement, who naturally felt them- 
 selves the most aggrieved. But Coindet, turning round, assailed them 
 with such a torrent of abuse, and overwhelmed the gensdarmes — who 
 came up on hearing the disturbance — with such ingenious explanations, 
 that the real culprits were allowed to retain their ill-gotten places, and 
 the two unfortunate aggrieved Frenchmen were straightway marched 
 off by the gensdarmes and put at the very rear of the queue ! 
 
266 cuvier's museum. 
 
 tell a different tale. But at any rate intoxication 
 must keep the house in Paris, and boasteth not itself 
 in the highways, as in my own land. 
 
 One evening we all went to the Jardin de Tivoli, 
 where all manner of games are to be had, and all 
 sorts of exhibitions to be seen. We rushed down 
 the Montaones Busses ; we tilted at the rins; unsuc- 
 cessfuUy, mounted on a whirligig hobby-horse, with 
 a lance of the size and shape of a butcher's " steel " ; 
 we witnessed the wonderful struggles of " Les deux 
 Ercules " in wrestling ; and we wound up our enter- 
 tainment by gaping with a delighted crowd at a grand 
 midnight finish of a " Feu d : Artifice." 
 
 I twice revisited the Jardin des Plantes, — first to 
 inspect the Menagerie des Betes Feroces, that of the 
 Betes Paisibles, and Cuvier's great Museum of Com- 
 parative Anatomy ; and a second time, to take a brief 
 survey of the vast mineralogical and zoological collec- 
 tions of the Museum of Natural History. The miner- 
 alogical department was very fine, and remarkably rich 
 in fossils, especially from the great calcareous basin of 
 the Seine. The zoological specimens were numberless, 
 but not in general well got up. Monstrosities seemed 
 much in favour. They occupied a large and popular 
 space, and the calf seemed to furnish the chief supply 
 of them. There can be no doubt of the immense 
 extent and high scientific value of Cuvier's collection 
 of Comparative Anatomy ; but the specimens were 
 wanting in the cleanness, perspicuous exhibition, 
 and finish of anatomical specimens in our home 
 museums. They appeared to be intended not so 
 
robiquet's laboratory. 267 
 
 much for exhibition and instruction, as for mere 
 preservation prior to becoming the subject of ana- 
 tomical research. 
 
 M. Robiquet's establishment was situated in the 
 ancient part of the city, in the Rue de la Monnaie, 
 opposite the south end of the Pont-Neuf. It consisted 
 of his "Pharmacie," or drug-shop, and his scientific 
 " Laboratoire " of three rooms up-stairs, which entered 
 from the shop, and formed two sides of a little quad- 
 rangle. All the eminent analysts of Paris were, 
 like him, druggists ; but, very different in that respect 
 from druggists in Britain, they occupied a high place 
 among scientific chemists. 
 
 Two of the laboratory rooms intercommunicated, 
 and were partitioned from one another by glass only, 
 and these were devoted to experiment. The third was 
 the master-chemist's sanctum, as well as the reposi- 
 tory of his balances and other delicate instruments. 
 All the rooms had light only from the interior of the 
 quadrangle. I worked in the principal experiment- 
 room. This was constructed simply and efficiently 
 for ventilation and prompt removal of fume's. It was 
 surrounded on the three unlit sides by a broad shelf 
 of smooth brick- work, on which the experiments were 
 conducted. A shed, the lower edge of which extended 
 into the room beyond the edge of the shelf, sloped 
 above our heads upwards to where the walls met the 
 ceiling ; and the angle there formed had a gentle 
 inclination from the two extremities towards one of 
 the corners of the room, where an aperture conveyed 
 
2G8 ANALYSIS OF GASES. 
 
 any fumes outside, together with the heated air of the 
 apartment. I have never seen this simple contrivance 
 in Edinburgh, where the laboratory ventilation has 
 always appeared to me very faulty. 
 
 Here I worked daily six days in the week for five 
 months, from 11 a.m., and sometimes earlier, till near 
 5 p.m., when I joined mj* companions at our restaurant 
 dinner-table. 
 
 My collaborateurs were sometimes Robiquet him- 
 self ; always his chief assistant Bussy, who is still [1875] 
 alive as Professor Emeritus of the School of Pharmacy ; 
 a very little curly-headed Scoto-Irishman, son of Mr 
 Boyd, chemical manufacturer at Belfast; a volatile 
 lad, Robiquet's nephew, Alphonse Robiquet ; and two 
 young men whom I knew only as Germans, working 
 in the little room partitioned off from ours, all in all 
 apparently to one another, and not disposed to court 
 acquaintance with the more genial inmates of the 
 chief apartment. The " Pharmacie " and the "Labo- 
 ratoire " were independent of each other. No part of 
 the work of the former was done, and none of its 
 officials was ever seen, in the latter ; and the labora- 
 tory altogether ignored the shop. 
 
 As soon as Robiquet saw that I was practically 
 familiar with the manufacture and properties of 
 oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen, carbonic acid, carbonic 
 oxide, ammonia, &c, he set me to analyse mixtures 
 of them. In this branch of study I was easdy suc- 
 cessful. One day, however, I happened to pass rather 
 quickly round the trough on which stood a tall. 
 narrow, finely graduated glass jar ; when, owing to 
 
A FORTUNATE ACCIDENT. 2G9 
 
 the elasticity of the floor, and — worse than that — the 
 firmness of my tread, the jar was upset and smashed 
 on the floor. Eobiquet was out of his den, like a 
 spider, in a moment, and for an instant looked much 
 chagrined. He was a man of middle stature, very 
 like a handsome, shapely, English gentleman, with 
 a sharp, lively, amiable expression, and a fair share of 
 French quickness of temper, but under admirable con- 
 trol. His eye took in the nature and cause of the mis- 
 hap at once. He instantly checked his rising displeas- 
 ure, and good-naturedly said — " Quel dommage ! mais 
 enfin — allons-nous faire un autre ! " So he produced 
 a similar jar and a writing-diamond, instructed me 
 how to ascertain the main divisions with a small tube 
 exactly filled with successive equal portions of mer- 
 cury, and how each space so determined was to be 
 separately subdivided into its own tenths, according 
 to its varying length occasioned by irregularities in 
 the calibre of the jar, — and set me at once to work 
 as a glass-cutter. The task exactly suited my sharp 
 sight and engineering propensities. The result was a 
 jar graduated so much more artistically than the old 
 one, that Eobiquet declared himself glad the other had 
 been broken ; and we became great friends thereafter. 
 
 Taught by what I then experienced, I afterwards 
 in any nice investigations made use only of jars and 
 tubes graduated with my own hands. Every chemist 
 indeed ought to do so, or personally to test his 
 graduated instruments, or to witness the testing of 
 them, if he have not the hands for doing so himself. 
 
 The analysis of the gases, which I got through in 
 
270 PROXIMATE ORGANIC ANALYSIS. 
 
 a few days, was a lesson preparatory to engaging in 
 the ultimate, or elementary, analysis of organic sub- 
 stances. My own foremost desire was to practise 
 Proximate Organic Analysis. This branch of chem- 
 istry had been cultivated for a few years, and only 
 for a very few, with success, in Germany and France, 
 and nowhere with such energy as in Paris. Only a 
 limited number, however, of natural products had 
 hitherto been subjected successfully to investiga- 
 tion. Opium, nux-vomica, and Cocculus indicus had 
 been examined with most satisfactory results ; and 
 cinchona-bark had just been added to the list. But 
 the great importance of these few substances ; their 
 remarkable action on vital phenomena both in 
 health and in disease ; the discovery of the con- 
 stituents in which these properties reside ; the mar- 
 vellous intensity of action of these constituents, 
 whether as poisons or as remedies ; their beautiful 
 crystalline appearance, especially contrasted with the 
 unattractive appearance of the articles which yield 
 them ; their most interesting chemical relations ; the 
 complex and yet methodical processes for obtaining 
 them ; the growing expectation that the discovery 
 of them would revolutionise and simplify pharmacy 
 as well as even therapeutics, — all conspired to raise 
 in me a keen desire to be at least practically ac- 
 quainted with the methods of investigation. Robi- 
 quet, an accomplished analyst in this very field, 
 approved of my aspirations, and gave me for a 
 task the proximate analysis of opium. Much had 
 been done for the proximate analysis of this most 
 
ANALYSIS OF OPIUM. 271 
 
 important of all drugs. Morphia, narcotine, and 
 meconic acid were well known ; and the medical 
 world of Paris were then experimenting and disput- 
 ing on the relations which they severally bear in 
 point of action to that of opium itself, both as a 
 poison and a remedy. Of these principles, narcotine 
 and meconic acid, though previously known, were 
 first duly characterised by Eobiquet ; and, after I 
 left his laboratory, he discovered a second alkaloid 
 in opium, codeiia. 
 
 I remember beginning upon seven ounces of opium 
 — no small venture in those days, when opium cost 
 £2, 16s. a pound wholesale, and no good quality of 
 it could be got in Paris except from the London 
 market. I had the gratification of going through in 
 a few weeks the whole analysis as then known, to 
 my instructor's entire satisfaction, without a single 
 casualty or failure. 
 
 The resiniform extractive colouring matter, which 
 is obtained at various steps of the analysis, engaged 
 much of my attention. I was struck by observ- 
 ing that, after frequent repetition of the action 
 of boiling rectified spirit, this agent continued to 
 remove a crystalline body, which from some speci- 
 mens was morphia, and from others apparently nar- 
 cotine, but which may have been in part one of the 
 numerous alkaloids or neutral principles discovered 
 since in opium in comparatively minute propor- 
 tions. I could never satisfy myself that I had got 
 a pure resin of opium. This branch of the anal- 
 ysis I was obliged to abandon for want of time, 
 
272 analyst's qualifications. 
 
 because I had still before me the study of elementary 
 analysis. 
 
 Elementary Organic Analysis had recently acquired 
 great precision, through the improvements introduced 
 by the French chemists. The material to be analysed 
 was subjected to red heat in a glass tube, along with 
 binoxide of copper as an oxidating agent. The oxy- 
 hydro-carbons and oxy-hydro-nitro-carbons were thus 
 converted into water, carbonic acid, and nitrogen ; 
 the water was determined by passing the evolved 
 gases through anhydrous chloride of calcium ; the 
 carbonic acid was got at by absorption by potash- 
 solution ; and the gaseous residuum of that absorp- 
 tion was regarded as nitrogen, allowance being made, 
 however, for atmospheric oxygen and nitrogen derived 
 from the tubes. From these data the several elements 
 could be easily enough calculated. 
 
 Analyses of this nature involve very varied and 
 delicate chemical and mechanical operations, which 
 require to be conducted not only with extreme care, 
 hut likewise with great conscientiousness. A slight 
 slip may disqualify a long previous investigation, so 
 that strong temptation may arise to make allowance 
 for it. The very work of weighing with a delicate 
 balance and minute weights demands a sharpness of 
 sight, delicacy of touch, and amount of patience which 
 few men naturally possess, but which indeed many 
 may with due perseverance acquire. I happened to 
 be well provided in these respects ; consequently I 
 had again the good fortune to obtain trustworthy 
 results, to Robiquet's satisfaction — not, however, 
 
robiquet's good-nature. 273 
 
 without one mishap from an oversight. I had success- 
 fully finished my first combustion, analysed the re- 
 sulting gases, and had only to weigh the combustion- 
 tube to ascertain its loss of weight. Eobiquet had 
 himself weighed it before combustion. But the 
 French procedure, in order to be independent of 
 imperfection in the balance, being to equipoise the 
 tube and weigh the equipoise, he had done the first 
 step only, and had left the equipoise in the balance 
 for me to weigh. Unaware of this, and supposing 
 that the balance merely contained the materials of 
 some previously concluded process, I removed the equi- 
 poise unweighed, and so a whole forenoon's work was 
 annihilated. Eobiquet, for a keen-tempered man, was 
 a pattern of patience and good-nature. " Ah ! " ex- 
 claimed he, " qu'est-ce que c'est que vous avez fait ? 
 La tare est perdu ! — et votre procede ! — mais, enfin ! 
 il faut recommencer. Voulez-vous venir demaiu ? 
 Non? " — (to-morrow being Sunday). I was so ashamed 
 of my error that I assented, and my first successful 
 elementary analysis was performed on a Sunday — a 
 performance, however, which was never repeated on 
 that day of the week. 
 
 I made many analyses of morphia and narcotine, 
 principally to settle what was then an open question 
 — the proportion of nitrogen which they contained. I 
 was never quite satisfied that the air in the apparatus 
 was duly allowed for. The nitrogen never came out 
 so great in that indirect way as when all atmospheric 
 air was removed from the tubes by filling the inter- 
 stices in their contents with mercury under the air- 
 
 vol. I. s 
 
274 POURQUOI NE PORTEZ-VOUS PAS LE JUPOX ? 
 
 pump vacuum. The nitrogen thus obtained from 
 three grammes of narcotine (46.3 grs.) amounted to 
 0.0157, or 5.24 per cent; the carbon being 0.1885, or 
 62.80. 
 
 The end of March saw the close of m) T chemical 
 studies in Paris, and of my most agreeable association 
 with Robiquet and his assistant, Bussy. When I 
 revisited Paris in 1838, both of them received me 
 with great cordiality and lively reminiscences ; and 
 I have since resumed acquaintance with Bussy in a 
 pleasing epistolary correspondence. In 1838 he and 
 I recalled a " laboratoire " interlude, which amusingly 
 illustrates the delusion abroad that all Scotsmen are 
 Highlanders. One day in conversation he happened 
 to use the expression, "Vous autres Anglais." I cor- 
 rected him — "M. Bussy, je ne suis pas Anglais." 
 "Comment? Qu'est-ce que vous e"tes?" "Je suis 
 Ecossais." " Ah ! vous etes Ecossais ?" — and he rushed 
 upon me, embraced me, and kissed me on both cheeks, 
 in token of the ancestral ties of amity between our 
 two nations. "Mais, done, vous etes montao-nard," 
 added he. " Non ! je viens du pays-bas d'Ecosse." 
 "Comment cela? II n'y a pas de pays-bas en Ecosse!" 
 "Oh! oui, dans plusieurs endroit du midi." "Non! 
 non ! II n'y a que des montagnes en Ecosse. Yous 
 &tes montagnard. Pourquoi ne portez-vous pas le 
 jupon ? " 
 
275 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 PROFESSORSHIP OF MEDICAL JURISPRUDENCE. 
 
 CHAIR FALLS VACANT STRANGE CIRCUMSTANCES OP MY CANDIDAT- 
 URE AND ELECTION MY COURSE OF LECTURES — SUCCESS OF THE 
 
 CLASS — CONNECTION WITH MEDICO-LEGAL TRIALS IMPORTANCE OF 
 
 STUDYING BOTH SIDES — MEDICAL EVIDENCE IN RAILWAY ACCIDENT 
 
 TRIALS A SHIFTY WITNESS PREVALENT IGNORANCE OF MEDICAL 
 
 JURISPRUDENCE FIVE COMMON ERRORS TOXICOLOGICAL IN- 
 QUIRIES ADULTERATION OF DRUGS TREATISE ON POISONS. 
 
 My stay in Paris came to an end near the close 
 of April. I bade adieu to my French friends ; and 
 our little circle of Edinburgh graduates broke up, 
 never to meet together again. Eoberts and Satterley 
 had left us not long before for England. Cullen re- 
 mained for further study in Paris. Coindet returned to 
 Geneva, to settle there as a physician. Turner, chang- 
 ing his professional destination, went to Gottingen 
 to study chemistry under Strohmeyer. I started 
 for London, solitary and dull, and reached my desti- 
 nation by way of Calais and Dover without meeting 
 any further adventure than a heavy gale in crossing 
 the Channel. 
 
 On arriving in London, near the end of April, and 
 
276 MEDICAL JURISPRUDENCE CHAIR VACANT. 
 
 inquiring at my bookseller's for lionie letters, our first 
 salutations were scarcely over when he amazed me by 
 asking, " How my canvass was going on for the Edin- 
 burgh chair of Medical Jurisprudence ? " 
 
 On the 2d of April 1821 died James Gregory, 
 Professor of the Practice of Physic. The Town 
 Council, then patrons of most of the University chairs, 
 appointed Dr Home, Professor of Materia Medica, to 
 be successor to Dr Gregory ; Dr Duncan, junior, to 
 the chair of Materia Medica, from being assistant and 
 successor to his father in his chair of the Theory of 
 Physic ; and, in Dr Duncan's place, Dr Alison, from 
 the chair of Medical Jurisprudence, of which the 
 Crown possessed the patronage. The first of these 
 successive appointments was severely censured by 
 many, — firstly, because Home had been scarcely at 
 all engaged in practice as a physician beyond the 
 walls of the Infirmary; and secondly, because the 
 electors had passed by Dr John Thomson, Professor of 
 Military Surgery. Little was said of a younger, more 
 experienced, and subsequently more celebrated phy- 
 sician, Dr John Abercrombie. The other translations 
 followed that of Dr Home almost as a matter of course, 
 and met with universal approval. 
 
 When I heard, while in Paris, of Gregory's death, I 
 anticipated some such movements in the University 
 as would vacate Alison's chair ; and, writing about 
 the news to my brother at home, I used the expres- 
 sion, "He should have died hereafter," — because I 
 thought myself too young to profit at that time by 
 any University changes. In keeping with that belief, 
 
A CANDIDATE WITHOUT MY KNOWLEDGE. 277 
 
 I now wrote to my brother at Edinburgh to withdraw 
 my name from the competition. But he replied that 
 the steps taken in my behalf had gone too far, and 
 held out too fair a prospect of success, for me to beat 
 a retreat now. My kindest and most useful friends 
 in London, Sir George Warrender of the Admiralty, 
 and Sir Andrew Halliday, physician to the Duke of 
 Clarence, gave me assurance that such was really 
 the case. Thus, without my sanction, even without 
 my knowledge, I was to all appearance on the high- 
 way to an Edinburgh professorship, though not quite 
 twenty-four years old. There ensued ere long, how- 
 ever, an exceeding stiff and protracted contest, which 
 made the issue very doubtful for many months. 
 
 The question hung very much on the amount of 
 influence, political and private, which could be 
 brought to bear on the Minister who disposed of 
 Crown patronage in Scotland. One candidate, who 
 truly possessed neither a single qualification for the 
 chair of Medical Jurisprudence nor the prospect of 
 ever acquiring any, and who was so often an unsuc- 
 cessful candidate afterwards for various medical 
 offices as to be known by the name of the " Solicitor- 
 General," nevertheless had good access to the Tory 
 Minister, though himself a Whio-. Another, Dr James 
 Playfair, nephew of Professor Playfair, and looked 
 upon as a man of ability and good promise, had, 
 although also a Whig, good access to the fountain of 
 Tory Scottish patronage through the universal regard 
 entertained for his recently deceased uncle. The 
 other candidates were nobodies, and " nowhere " in 
 
278 MY OPPONENTS. 
 
 the race. The contest eventually lay, and lay for 
 many months, betwixt Dr Playfair and myself. But 
 we had also a common enemy, in the shape of a 
 suggestion, which cropped up now and then, to 
 abolish the chair of Medical Jurisprudence, as having 
 been tried for fourteen years and proved unsuccess- 
 ful, — so little was then known in London of the im- 
 portance of this branch of medicine, which indeed 
 was not taught in any metropolitan medical school, 
 or anywhere else in the British dominions except 
 at Edinburgh. 
 
 Playfair, although my fellow-graduate in 1819, was 
 some years senior to me in point of age, having been 
 for a few years, I think, in the Army Medical Service. 
 He had done nothing to distinguish himself since he 
 had been a promising student. Disappointed in the 
 canvass, he settled as a physician in Florence, where 
 he attained great success. I met with him occasion- 
 ally in Edinburgh after his retirement, when he 
 resided with his brother, the eminent architect of 
 the University. He was then much of an invalid, 
 and seemed a prematurely old man. 
 
 The competition went on, with alternate bursts of 
 vigour and fits of languor, from May 1821 until Janu- 
 ary 1822. At last I ceased to look for success, or to 
 take interest, in a struggle so protracted — began to 
 make preparation for coming out as a Lecturer on 
 Chemistry in the Edinburgh Extra-Academical Med- 
 ical School, and had actually written six lectures, 
 still existing in a shape much too elaborate for 
 ordinary students, when I was again surprised by 
 
kobiquet's testimonial. 279 
 
 the information, through a rival candidate, that a 
 commission in my favour as Professor of Medical 
 Jurisprudence, sealed and signed on January 3, 1822, 
 had been lying ready for me in the proper Crown 
 Office for six weeks. This odd conclusion came about 
 in the following manner : — 
 
 When the canvass had gone on for four months, I 
 got in the end of August, from my Paris master, 
 Pobiquet, an important testimonial, plainly meant 
 to be the pure truth. He did not, in more modern 
 fashion in the like circumstances, pronounce me to 
 be a scientific chemist of the first water, but, among 
 other statements, said he had intrusted to me the 
 most delicate and difficult analyses, and had so much 
 reliance in the results that he meant to publish them 
 presently ; that he had been sorry to lose me so soon 
 as one of his coUaborateurs ; and that I was "en 
 e"tat d'entreprendre toute espece de travail chimique." 
 Such a certificate was enough to have settled the 
 competition with a patron acquainted with the re- 
 quirements for a teacher of Medical Jurisprudence. 
 For I feel sure that no other candidate was even so 
 much of a practical chemist as to have burnt phos- 
 phorus in oxygen of his own making, or to have 
 stunk his neighbour with sulphuretted hydrogen gas 
 discharged through the street-door key-hole. This 
 certificate was sent to Sir George Warrender, to make 
 what use he could of it. 
 
 Sir George was a junior Lord of the Admiralty at 
 this time, when the First Lord was Lord Melville, the 
 ministerial fountain of Crown patronage in Scotland. 
 
280 ODD CONCLUSION OF THE CONTEST. 
 
 From a cause unknown to me, the two had recently 
 been rather cool towards one another, when an inci- 
 dent occurred which put it in Sir George's power to 
 do his chief a service. A vacancy had taken place 
 in the parliamentary seat for Sir George's county, 
 Haddingtonshire, and the contest ran so close that it 
 was supposed a single vote might decide whether the 
 member should be a hostile Whig or a friendly Tory. 
 In this conjuncture Sir George offered to Lord Mel- 
 ville to post down to Scotland, at an inconvenient 
 time of year, to give his vote — a favour which his 
 lordship did not like to ask, but was very glad to 
 accept. The membership was carried according to 
 his wish, and by a very narrow majority — indeed, if 
 I mistake not, by Sir George's vote. With this ser- 
 vice lately rendered, and Kobiquet's testimonial to 
 back him, he went to Lord Melville, asked the vacant 
 professorship for me, and of course got it. Having 
 thus far acted with energy, he collapsed into a 
 constitutional aversion to letter-writing, and never 
 communicated to me or my brother the result 
 of his kind exertions, which we learned only six 
 weeks subsequently in the way which has been 
 mentioned. 
 
 Soon after induction on February 23, 1822, I 
 settled down to prepare for my professorial duties, 
 which were to begin on the 1st of May. I was urged 
 to put off lecturing till the subsequent summer, but 
 determined to go on at once. With the aid of the 
 best French medico - legal works — a few systematic 
 
HOW TO LEARN GERMAN. 281 
 
 treatises, meagre enough, yet creditable to the infancy 
 of English medical jurisprudence — an assortment of 
 straggling cases in the British medical journals — and 
 the reports of criminal proceedings in the ' State 
 Trials ' and other law authorities, — I made good pro- 
 gress with my preparations, so that I was able to keep 
 well up to time until the summer session closed with 
 July. My framework was naturally the medico-legal 
 science of France, at that time far ahead of us. But 
 becoming soon practically engaged with questions in 
 the Scottish law courts, I found my lectures not so 
 relative to law proceedings as they ought to be. 
 Moreover, I saw from some translations that a vast 
 mine of medico-legal facts, as yet concealed from my 
 view, lay open to me so soon as I could master the 
 German language, which I set about in a way of my 
 own. In the winter, when I could command con- 
 tinuous time, I spent one entire day in studying a 
 good German grammar — -superficially, so as to be 
 able to use it as a grammatical dictionary. Next day, 
 with the help of a dictionary proper, I began to read 
 Schiller's ' Dreysigjahriger Krieg.' I well remember 
 how hard it was to satisfy myself that I had got at 
 the true sense of the first long sentence. But diffi- 
 culty then seemed to vanish ; and any scholar will 
 easily see that this simple elegant sentence may serve 
 as an introductory epitome and exercise on almost all 
 peculiarities of German parts of speech and collocation. 
 In fourteen days I was able to read ten pages of my 
 lesson-book in an hour, and then I proceeded to 
 apply my new acquisition to its object. 
 
282 LECTURES AND THEIR SUCCESS. 
 
 Under the new light thus thrown on the subject 
 and object of my professorship, in the course of 
 three years my original lectures were in great part 
 thrown aside for others more appropriate. I was even 
 so ashamed of my first set that I destroyed them. 
 My lectures came at last to consist — besides the in- 
 troductory generalites under each topic, and the 
 necessary scientific discussions under some heads — of 
 a collection of medico-legal cases grouped together, 
 as in a treatise on law, so as to bring out generalised 
 facts and principles. Study in this direction inter- 
 ested me profoundly ; and I was rewarded by earnest 
 attention on the part of my hearers, and ultimately 
 by a steady increase in their number. I began with 
 twelve, next year had five, and in the third year one 
 only appearing, I stopped. The fact was, that the 
 young lawyers asked me to give them a winter 
 course ; eleven promised, fixing their own hour, and 
 only one came forward. I persevered, however, and 
 when translated to the chair of Materia Medica in my 
 eleventh session, there were ninety students, although 
 my subject was not then imperative on any of them. 
 
 My progress in medico-legal knowledge was greatly 
 promoted, and the practical bearing of the lectures 
 much enhanced, by constant practice as a reporter in 
 precognitions and as a witness in courts of law, first 
 in criminal trials, and soon in civil actions also. My 
 earliest appearances were on the side of the prisoner 
 in the Justiciary Court, the young counsel coming to 
 me for the discovery of loopholes in the case for the 
 Crown, — flaws which it was easy enough to find in 
 
CONNECTION WITH LAW COURTS. 283 
 
 the defective medico-legal inquiries of the day. But 
 Solicitor-General Hope, afterwards Lord Justice-Clerk, 
 saw the inconvenience arising from obstructions thus 
 thrown in his way, and by his advice I became un- 
 acknowledged standing medical counsel "for his Ma- 
 jesty's interest." My previous training as witness 
 on the prisoner's side, and the wise advice of my 
 elder brother, with whom I continued to keep house, 
 led me always to look at both sides of a question. 
 So far as the medical relations of a case were con- 
 cerned, I thus became umpire between the prosecutor 
 and the prisoner in the precognition. In point of 
 fact, I thus on several occasions put a stop to further 
 procedure, either by eliciting proof of innocence, or 
 by showing the inconclusiveness of evidence, and the 
 futility of proceeding to trial. I followed the same 
 rule in my inquiries and evidence in civil actions, 
 in which it is even more necessary to be on guard 
 against the one-sidedness of the preliminary inves- 
 tigations. Once during an inquiry of this kind, I 
 was roundly charged by the agent with precognoscing 
 for the opposite party rather than on the side for 
 which I was employed. It would have served no 
 good end to have informed this gentleman that, 
 whatever might be his duty in the case, mine was to 
 find out the truth. But I silenced his scruples by 
 letting him see that, if my services as his witness 
 were to be turned to good account, I must know as 
 much as possible of the other side in order to stand 
 cross-examination ; that I could rely on him putting 
 me well up to the facts on his own side, but that for 
 
284 EVIDEXCE-IX-CHIEF NEVER SHAKEN". 
 
 those ou the opposite side I had found I must alwa3's 
 depend very much upon myself. 
 
 The consequence of this mode of procedure was, 
 that I cannot recall a single instance of my evidence- 
 in -chief having been shaken in cross-examination. 
 In general, indeed, it was rather strengthened by 
 points being brought out which had been over- 
 looked in my primary evidence, and which the cross- 
 examining counsel had better have let alone. Hence 
 the leading members of the Bar ceased to cross-ex- 
 amine me ; or when they did, it was to bring out 
 some point in favour of their client, which they knew 
 beforehand that I possessed, and was quite ready to 
 produce if desired. 
 
 If there is any part of my professional duties on 
 the discharge of which I look back with more satis- 
 faction than another, it is that of reporter and witness 
 in medico-legal questions. I know that I thus gained 
 the approbation of both Bar and Bench. I make this 
 remark, not out of self-satisfaction, but from earnest 
 desire that all my brethren would profit by my ex- 
 perience, and put an end to the disgrace under which 
 scientific equally with all sorts of professional evi- 
 dence has for some time lain, of being rather the 
 pleading of a counsel than the testimony of a wit- 
 ness. It cannot be denied that in all professions 
 and sciences men may now be got to defend, on their 
 oath as witnesses, any case in which there is a little 
 show of reasonable doubt. In no profession has this 
 practice become so common, and in degree so deplor- 
 able, as in that of civil-engineering — a fact which I 
 
RAILWAY MEDICAL WITNESSES. 285 
 
 can trace to nothing else but the shameful laxity of 
 parliamentary committees in multitudinous costly 
 railway cases, and heavy bribes in the shape of fees. 
 But in medicine the fault is scarcely less flagrant ; 
 and naturally it is worst in similar circumstances — in 
 cases connected with railway accidents. Every rail- 
 way board of directors has its own surgeons, partly 
 to look after the health of the men, but greatly 
 also to help themselves through their legal troubles 
 arising out of accidents. I am sorry for these 
 brethren of mine, who seem to consider it a matter 
 of duty and necessity that they must always be on 
 the railway side of a question. I am sorry for them, 
 but doubly so for the necessity they create for medi- 
 cal testimony as uncompromising as theirs on the side 
 of the opposite party. I was early engaged in one 
 case of the kind for the party injured. Fortunately 
 my report carried impartiality so much on the face of 
 it, that the directors were induced to compromise the 
 action by a large solatium. But I saw enough then 
 to determine me never to have anything to do with the 
 trade of medical witness in a railway-accident trial. 
 
 Much mischief, however, had been done previously 
 to the character of medical testimony in the Scottish 
 law courts by a small section of men, belonging to 
 the Extra-Academical School of Medicine, who could 
 scarcely ever meet a University man on a public 
 occasion without setting up their backs and spitting 
 at him. It was quite enough that a professor was a 
 professional witness in a court of law for one of this 
 brotherhood to appear on the other side ; nor did they 
 
286 AN ACCOMMODATING WITNESS. 
 
 ever seem taken aback by the sorry figure they were 
 made to cut on divers occasions. One of them was 
 rather vain of the frequency with which Henry Cock- 
 burn, then at the Bar, had him engaged whenever he 
 was counsel. The witness would not have been so 
 proud of his post had he known why he so often filled 
 it. On one occasion the agent in a case in which 
 Cockburn was counsel, remarking that a medical wit- 
 ness would be wanted, asked whether he should see 
 
 Dr on the subject. "No, no !" said Cockburn, 
 
 " go to Dr . He will say anything you like." 
 
 The following is a specimen I heard of a cross- 
 examination of this friend of Cockburn. In a trial for 
 poisoning with arsenic — the last occasion on which 
 an attempt was made to dispute the validity of the 
 
 chemical evidence in arsenical poisoning — Dr 
 
 was employed to make a muddle of the professional 
 testimony ; and this was how he set about it. The 
 proof, from symptoms during life and morbid appear- 
 ances after death — apart from irrefragable chemical 
 proof of the presence of arsenic in the stomach — was 
 unusually strong, perhaps singly conclusive. But 
 Dr had no difficulties. " He had great experi- 
 ence of disease. Vast experience in pathological dis- 
 sections. There was nothing in the symptoms of the 
 deceased during her fife which he had not seen again 
 and again arising from natural disease : nothing in the 
 appearances in the dead body which he had not seen 
 twenty times as arising from natural causes." " But, 
 
 Dr ," said the Lord Advocate, " the symptoms 
 
 you have heard detailed, and which you say may 
 
SHIFTY EVIDENCE SHOWN UP. 287 
 
 have arisen from natural disease, are also such as 
 arsenic may produce, are they not ? " " They may be 
 all produced by natural disease." " So you have al- 
 ready told us. But may they not also be produced 
 by arsenic ? " " They may ; but natural disease may 
 equally cause them." " You need not repeat that 
 information, Doctor. Give me a simple answer to 
 my simple question : May these symptoms be pro- 
 duced by arsenic ? Yea or Nay ? " " Yes." " Now, 
 
 Dr , you have also told us that the appearances 
 
 found after death were such as natural disease may 
 produce. Are they not also such as may be produced 
 by arsenic ? " " Natural causes may account for them 
 all," &c. &c, through the same round of fencing, until 
 he was compelled to admit that arsenic might produce 
 them. " Now, Doctor," continued the Lord Advocate, 
 " you have heard the evidence of arsenic having been 
 found in the stomach of the woman. Are you satis- 
 fied that arsenic was discovered there ? " " My Lord, 
 I am no judge of chemical evidence." " Then, Dr 
 
 •, in that case I must tell you that it will be my 
 
 duty to represent to the jury and judges that arsenic 
 was unequivocally detected ; and I ask you this — 
 Suppose arsenic was detected, what in that case do 
 you think was the cause of these symptoms, and of 
 these signs in the dead body ? " " Natural disease 
 might cause them all." " Yes ! yes ! we all know 
 that. But suppose that arsenic was found in the 
 stomach, what then would be your opinion as to their 
 cause ? " A pause on the part of the Doctor, now run 
 to earth. " Do you not think, sir, that in that case 
 
288 CARDINAL ERRORS IN MEDICAL JURISPRUDENCE. 
 
 arsenic was the cause ? " Softly and reluctantly came 
 the inevitable answer, " Yes." " One more question, 
 then, and I have done : In your opinion, did this 
 person die of poisoning with arsenic?" "Yes." 
 " Have you any doubt of it ? " " No." " Then " (sotto 
 voce, yet audibly enough), " what the devil brought 
 you here ? " 
 
 Before I had advanced far in my preparatory 
 studies for my first course of lectures on Medical 
 Jurisprudence, I saw that, amidst much ignorance in 
 all departments of it, there was in this country great 
 neglect and frequent error in five cardinal j)oints : 
 1. The examination of the dead body in medico-legal 
 inquiries was generally conducted with carelessness, 
 incompletely, and without knowledge of the several 
 ways in which the inspection may bear on the legal 
 aspects of a case. 2. Professional men seemed little 
 aware of the occurrence of pseudo-morbid appearances 
 after death imitating the consequences of disease and 
 those of injuries inflicted during life. 3. There was a 
 widespread and deplorable ignorance among surgeons 
 of the numerous medico-legal relations of wounds and 
 other injuries. 4. The errors and obstinac}'' among 
 obstetrical men in the questions connected with obstet- 
 rical practice were something truly remarkable. 5. 
 The principles and practice of toxicology, founded in 
 1814 by Orfila, had scarcely begun to be appreciated, 
 or even known, in the British Isles in 1822. 
 
 1. The form of procedure and points to be attended 
 to in the medico-legal inspection of dead bodies were 
 soon disposed of, thanks to my constant early famil- 
 
INSPECTION OF DEAD BODIES. 289 
 
 iarity with pathological dissections, to which it was 
 an easy matter to adapt whatever was practically use- 
 ful in the accredited French methods of minute inves- 
 tigation. A formula was drawn up in no long time 
 for the Lord Advocate, who, through the Procurator- 
 Fiscal, directed it to be followed by the various medi- 
 cal inspectors employed by them in criminal cases 
 throughout the Scottish counties. Subsequently this 
 formula was revised and extended, at the request of 
 the Lord Advocate Eutherford, by Dr Traill, Mr 
 Syme, and myself; and the "Instructions," so pre- 
 pared, continue to be the rule of procedure to the 
 present day, — although, from their established use, 
 few, I believe, are aware who furnished them, or even 
 that the method pursued exists in the shape of formal 
 printed rules. 
 
 2. In the course of my pathological studies my 
 attention had been often pointedly turned to the 
 subject of pseudo-morbid appearances. As professor 
 of medico-legal science, I soon saw their practical 
 importance, and also discovered how little the general 
 run of medical practitioners were aware of their 
 existence and nature, and how often in medico-legal 
 inspections they were mistaken for the effects of 
 disease, of injuries, or of poisoning. Nowhere were 
 these mistakes so frequent or so gross as in the Courts 
 of London, as exhibited at coroners' inquests and Old 
 Bailey trials. Even the ordinary purple spots, lines, 
 streaks, and patches of lividity from gravitation of 
 the fluid part of the blood after death, were often 
 taken for marks of blows and ligatures acting on the 
 
 VOL. I. T 
 
290 PSEUDO-MORBID APPEAR ANCES. 
 
 skin before death, or for the signs left by disease, or 
 by poison, in the stomach and bowels. Of these the 
 distinction was easily laid down. But there was no 
 information in books worth using on the effects of 
 injuries inflicted immediately after death, while the 
 blood is fluid and the body warm. These I ascer- 
 tained experimentally. It turned out that the marks 
 left in that case approached much nearer to those 
 from injuries inflicted during life ; that they are a 
 source of dangerous fallacy, but that they may be 
 distinguished by sufficient characters in careful hands. 
 My attention was specially drawn to the effects of 
 blows and dislocations immediately after death by 
 the appearances I observed in the dead body of the 
 woman murdered by the notorious body-snatchers 
 Burke and Hare ; and afterwards by an incidental 
 circumstance to those caused by burning the skin 
 immediately after death. In both cases I found I 
 could produce very suspicious appearances, whose 
 true nature, nevertheless, could be recognised with 
 certainty by an experienced observer. 
 
 During these inquiries I had occasion to correct 
 also the exaggerated notions generally entertained, 
 and even given effect to in books, as to the appear- 
 ances in the dead body after death by hanging and 
 drowning, in both of which the distinguishing char- 
 acters are realby often very slight, especially in drown- 
 ing. In hanging with a cord, in the usual way at 
 executions, they are faint, but peculiar, and are not 
 imitated exactly by suspension after death. 
 
 3. I was surprised to observe such ignorance as 
 
MEDICO-LEGAL ERRORS OF SURGEONS. 291 
 
 was displayed by surgeons even of deserved name 
 in regard to the many modes in which their branch 
 of the medical art may often throw light on important 
 questions in criminal trials connected with injuries. 
 The renunciatio vulnerum of Continental writers in 
 the seventeenth century seemed to have been almost 
 overlooked by them. Herein my surgical experience 
 in the Eoyal Infirmary was of great service to me. 
 
 That I may not appear censorious without cause, 
 I may mention the two following incidents. When 
 I was studying at St Bartholomew's Hospital, a little 
 tobacco-spinner boy was admitted dying of a punc- 
 tured wound in the eye. A companion, passing the 
 door of a shed where he was at work, called to him 
 to look out through the key-hole ; and on his doing 
 so, thrust in a long, thin, sharp spindle. The little 
 boy died in a few hours. On dissection it was found 
 that the spindle-point had pierced nearly through the 
 pons varolii, and consequently had traversed the skull 
 from forehead to hindhead. The chief surgical wit- 
 ness, in reply to a question by a juryman at the 
 coroner's inquest, stated that great force must have 
 been used to inflict such a wound with such an instru- 
 ment. The jury in consequence hesitated for some 
 time, and were inclined to bring in a verdict of man- 
 slaughter ; but they gave the offender, who was only 
 eleven years old, the benefit of youth, and a verdict 
 of accidental death was returned. He was then 
 brought into court to receive an admonition, when 
 there was disclosed the most villanous, hardened 
 countenance I had ever seen in a boy of that age. 
 
292 DIRECTION OF WOUND IMPORTANT. 
 
 The jury unanimously uttered a repulsive " Ah ! " 
 Plainly enough their verdict woidd have been dif- 
 ferent had they seen him before, instead of after, it 
 was delivered. But the surgeon's opinion was a grave 
 error. After penetrating the soft parts around the 
 eye, the slightest force would be sufficient to send the 
 spindle through the thin orbital plate, and between 
 the brain and base of the skull, to its most posterior 
 region. 
 
 The other case was one of omission. A brothel- 
 keeper, a powerful woman and notorious fury, was 
 charged with murdering in her house a law-clerk by 
 stabbing him in the chest with a pointed carving- 
 knife. The man dropped down dead at her feet. 
 The body was examined in the Royal Infirmary by 
 warrant of the Sheriff, in my presence, but as an 
 unconcerned spectator only. A gash was found in 
 the left ventricle of the heart ; whereupon the inspec- 
 tion was about to be brought to an end by sewing up 
 the body. But I stepped up to the inspecting sur- 
 geons, and suggested that they should fix exactly the 
 direction of the wound. It was then seen that the 
 knife, after severing the cartilage of the second left 
 rib, had penetrated to the left, somewhat inward, and 
 very much downward. This fact proved to be of 
 great consequence. The friends of the murdered man 
 were tipsy at the time, and those of the woman were 
 on other grounds untrustworthy. The woman stated 
 in her declaration that the young man and his com- 
 panions having become uproarious and rude, she 
 seized the knife in self-defence, and held it before 
 
IMPORTANCE OF SMALL DETAILS. 293 
 
 her with the point sloping forwards and upwards, 
 when he stumbled towards her upon its point. One 
 of his friends, on the other hand, swore he distinctly 
 saw the woman hold the knife daggerwise, raise her 
 hand towards her left ear, and strike towards her own 
 right and downward — in which way exactly would 
 such a wound as was found be produced. The woman 
 was condemned and executed. 
 
 It is wonderful how often the credibility of general 
 evidence may be thus crucially tested by careful atten- 
 tion to all the characters of injuries, and especially of 
 wounds by cutting or puncture. Their seat, form, size, 
 edges, direction, the organs traversed, foreign bodies 
 found in or near them, the loss of blood indicated near 
 or at a distance, &c. , may pointedly denote the weapon 
 used, the force employed, the manner of striking, the 
 relative position of assailant and assailed, the occupa- 
 tion of the assailant, even the very person guilty, or 
 that suicide is the only explanation. Of all these 
 matters, which interested me greatly, I gave in my 
 lectures a methodical account, illustrated by many 
 suitable cases. My plan was subsequently adopted 
 by Dr Alexander Watson, now, by succession to an 
 estate in Fife, Dr Watson Wemyss, who attended my 
 lectures when a Fellow of the College of Surgeons, 
 and who soon afterwards had some experience in 
 medico-legal inquiries as inspector for the Edinburgh 
 Procurator-Fiscal. His book on Homicide in its 
 medico-legal aspects contains much information ; but 
 I do not think it has ever drawn much attention from 
 his professional brethren. 
 
294 OBSTETRICAL QUESTIONS. 
 
 4. I rather avoided obstetrical questions in courts 
 of law, having little acquaintance with midwifery in 
 any of its departments. But having studied them all 
 in the medico-legal works of France and Germany, and 
 perused many reports of cases in the German medico- 
 legal journals, I became aware of the ignorance and 
 rashness of British practitioners in matters of obstetri- 
 cal jurisprudence. On the only occasion when I was 
 induced to become a witness — because no one else in 
 Edinburgh was acquainted with the foreign literature 
 of the particular subject— I was opposed in opinion 
 to no less an authority than Dr Hamilton, my ob- 
 stetrical colleague, who was clearly in error, owing 
 to his ignorance of what had been written by Con- 
 tinental, and especially by German, authors, — and 
 also to his exclusive respect for his own opinions 
 and his own experience. It is very different 
 with obstetrics and obstetrical jurisprudence now. 
 Practitioners are more modest, because more accom- 
 plished ; and, as a natural result, being more en- 
 lightened, they are more cautious and more exact as 
 witnesses. 
 
 5. But of all branches of medical jurisprudence, 
 none lay in so backward a state in British law courts 
 as its own peculiar subject, toxicology. A case of 
 poisoning in a criminal court was a sure signal for the 
 keen encounter of lawyers' wits, and the direct con- 
 tradictions of medical witnesses. The prisoner's coun- 
 sel attacked the case for the prosecution at the 
 fountain-head by assailing the proof of poisoning, not 
 seldom with success, and at anv rate bamboozling the 
 
TOXICOLOGY ALMOST UNKNOWN. 295 
 
 jury into a verdict of "Not proven." It was rarely 
 indeed that plausible means of defence were not to 
 be found in errors, or more generally insufficiency, in 
 the chemical evidence. 
 
 It was clear that toxicology was the most promis- 
 ing subject for bringing my chair, and medical juris- 
 prudence itself, into notice. First Dr Duncan and 
 then Dr Alison had failed, during the most populous 
 period of the University Medical School, because they 
 did not think of striking out a path of their own in 
 some single department of their subject. I had life 
 before me, and chose toxicology for its first occupa- 
 tion. I set out by undertaking, with my companion, 
 Coindet, as formerly mentioned, to investigate the 
 theory, detection, and treatment of poisoning with 
 oxalic acid. This sort of poisoning was at the time, 
 in 1823, a common incident — sometimes accidental, 
 not unfrequently suicidal, in one or two instances 
 criminal — in consecpience of the acid being much' in 
 the hands of servants, for cleaning brasses, and for 
 polishing the yellow tops of top-boots, then very 
 fashionable. I am not aware that anything has been 
 done since that period to add to our knowledge of 
 poisoning with oxalic acid. It is very different with 
 the next topic I undertook, the detection of poison- 
 ing with arsenic. I added something to the deli- 
 cacy of the process for detecting it, especially in com- 
 plex organic mixtures, and more perhaps to the com- 
 pleteness of the chemical evidence of its presence ; 
 and the result was that, when the mode of procedure 
 I recommended was followed by competent hands, 
 
296 DETECTION OF ARSENIC. 
 
 lawyers could no longer shake the proof of the dis- 
 covery of arsenic, and indeed generally surrendered 
 that part of the case to the prosecutor. But new 
 methods of investigation have been discovered since 
 by Marsh, Orfila, Eeinsch, and others, by which facility, 
 certainty, and refinement in detecting arsenic, in the 
 most complex circumstances, have been amazingly in- 
 creased — and by which, both in this and many other 
 kinds of poisoning, the analyst displays not merely, 
 as before, the excess of poison, in the stomach, bowels, 
 or elsewhere, beyond that which had occasioned death, 
 but likewise the poison diffused throughout the body 
 which had been the actual cause of death. Several 
 interesting cases of opium-poisoning led me also to 
 some improvements in the precarious process followed 
 at the time for detecting opium in mixtures of organic 
 matter ; and the constant demonstration before my 
 class of processes for the discovery of other poisons 
 necessarily suggested methods, better in respect of 
 facility or certainty, throughout the whole arrange- 
 ment of poisons. 
 
 I may here mention that, with the example in my 
 memory of Dr Hope's remarkable accuracy in experi- 
 mental demonstration, I took pains to secure that my 
 own demonstrations should be successful. The chief 
 secret I found to be, never to demonstrate publicly 
 without previously experimenting in private ; for thus 
 only are to be learnt the little touches which favour 
 success, and thus only can one make certain that the 
 materials are all such as they ought to be. I remem- 
 ber once failing utterly, in a very simple experiment, 
 
ADULTERATION OF DRUGS. 297 
 
 through, neglect of this precaution. I used iodide of 
 potassium unsuccessfully for detecting bichloride of 
 mercury. Proceeding to inquire into the cause, I dis- 
 covered that the iodide consisted of 80 per cent of 
 carbonate of potash, 10 of water, and only 10 of iodide 
 of potassium. To the disgrace of a Glasgow manufac- 
 turing company, this atrocious adulteration was know- 
 ingly sold over all Britain, and was undoubtedly the 
 cause of the failures often complained of at that time 
 in the use of the salt as a remedy in medical practice. 
 This and other similar instances made me aware of 
 the great extent to which medicinal substances were 
 adulterated. After maturing the subject, I brought it 
 before the Edinburgh College of Physicians, and pre- 
 sented a report, which, after being submitted to a com- 
 mittee, was published as that of the College — not with- 
 out opposition on the. part of the druggists' friends 
 among the Fellows. The College Eeport, the simul- 
 taneous inquiries of Dr Pereira in London, and the 
 efforts of the newly founded Pharmaceutical Society 
 of Great Britain, soon greatly abated the practice of 
 adulterating drugs. The improvement now effected 
 is immense. Some excessive adulterations, formerly 
 constant, are now almost unknown. 
 
 While thus studying experimentally the chemistry 
 of poisons, the physiology, pathology, and symptom- 
 atology of poisoning were by no means neglected. On 
 the contrary, collecting from all quarters many select 
 cases of the different kinds of poisoning, and adding 
 the best of those with which I had been myself con- 
 nected in our criminal courts, the whole were method- 
 
298 TREATISE ON POISONS. 1 
 
 ised with all the care and impartiality I could com- 
 mand. 
 
 My materials accumulated far beyond what could 
 be used for my lectures. I therefore determined to 
 gratify mine enemy by writing a book ; but the 
 'Treatise on Poisons,' first published in 1829, met 
 with no enemy. In my own opinion, the best part 
 of the book is the summation of my whole toxi- 
 cological studies in the introductory dissertation on 
 General Poisoning. This is a view of the medico- 
 legal relations of poisoning in the abstract, — a new 
 inquiry, comprising all the various ways in which, in 
 criminal trials, the history of the symptoms during 
 life, the appearances after death, and the chemical in- 
 vestigation, may bear, not merely on the discovery of 
 poison, but likewise on all branches of the general 
 evidence, or, as it is usually . called, the moral evi- 
 dence. I do not think there is any statement in that 
 dissertation which does not stand good to the present 
 day. 
 
299 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 SCIENTIFIC AND MEDICO-LEGAL MATTERS. 
 
 OIL-GAS VERSUS COAL-GAS SIR WALTER SCOTt's ADVICE ON PATENTS 
 
 ACTION OP POISONS ON PLANTS BURKE AND HARE ORI- 
 GINAL INVESTIGATIONS RESULT OF THE TRIAL DR KNOX. 
 
 While thus labouring in the strict line of profes- 
 sorial duty, I was induced to undertake, along with 
 Dr Edward Turner, an inquiry into the ' relative illu- 
 minating power of oil-gas and coal-gas. 
 
 Public opinion had been long divided between the 
 relative merits of the two varieties of illuminating 
 gas. Oil-gas was allowed to be more easily prepared 
 and purified, less offensive to the nostrils, and less 
 injurious to the binding of books and the colours of 
 furniture. But it was thought to be much more 
 costly. A London oil-gas company, however, after 
 some experience, appeared to be thriving. A statis- 
 tical inquiry by the political writer Eicardo, founded 
 simply on the relative number of lights supplied by 
 the same quantity of gas from this company and from 
 certain coal-gas companies in the metropolis, made 
 oil-gas possess no less than four times the illumin- 
 
300 OIL-GAS VERSUS COAL-GAS. 
 
 ating power of coal-gas ; and Sir Walter Scott, found- 
 ing on similar data supplied by his private oil-gas 
 works at Abbotsford, arrived at the same result. 
 An oil-gas company, under his chairmanship, was 
 accordingly formed in Edinburgh ; extensive works 
 were erected close to Warriston Bridge ; street-mains 
 were also laid clown throughout the whole New Town ; 
 and some houses were even supplied with the new 
 gas — which was universally applauded for the beauty 
 of its light. The company likewise fitted up a 
 powerful condensing apparatus for storing up highly 
 condensed oil-gas in portable vessels, which were 
 supplied to some houses. 
 
 While thus proceeding vigorously with their under- 
 taking, the directors bethought them of the insecure 
 evidence they possessed of the relative illuminating 
 power of the two gases, and that there was really no 
 scientific or exact practical information on the subject. 
 They were also stimulated to fill up the blank by a 
 report issued by their rivals, the directors of the pre- 
 existing coal-gas company, containing the statement, 
 deduced from observations with his photometer by 
 my colleague Professor Leslie, one of their share- 
 holders, that oil-gas, volume for volume, supplied 
 only twice the illumination of coal-gas. Turner and 
 I were asked to undertake the inquiry. We found 
 that there was neither rule nor uniform practice fol- 
 lowed in constructing gas-burners for either kind of 
 gas. We had therefore to settle in the first instance 
 the most advantageous way of burning each, and con- 
 sequently the fittest size of hole and length of flame 
 
OIL-GAS VERSUS COAL-GAS. 301 
 
 for simple jet-lights ; and in the case of Argand- 
 burners, the size of holes, their distance from, one 
 another, the diameter of the central air-hole, and the 
 diameter and height of the chimney. We had to de- 
 vise a plan for obtaining a perfectly steady flame with 
 gas from a small, experimental, graduated gas-holder, 
 and ourselves to construct a Eumford's photometer, 
 since Leslie's evidently could not measure accurately 
 the illumination from flames differing so much in 
 colour as in our experiments. We then found that 
 the economical principle for settling all these condi- 
 tions was, that each gas should be burnt as near 
 as possible to the point of thorough combustion 
 without smoke ; and that every construction for ob- 
 taining greater whiteness or " brilliancy " of flame by 
 a greater supply of air — although it made the light 
 more intense — diminished its amount, measured 
 photometrically, in a greater ratio, by materially 
 lessening the surface of flame under the same supply 
 of gas. Having determined how each gas might be 
 burnt most economically, we ascertained that the re- 
 lative illuminating power of average coal-gas from 
 the street-mains, and of average oil-gas prepared by 
 a skilful workman at a private gas-work in town 
 was as 1.00 : 2.10, or very little better than Leslie's 
 results. 
 
 The source of the error of Ricardo and Sir Walter 
 Scott proved to be simple enough. They compared 
 fine oil-gas of the density 0.92 with the inferior 
 London coal-gas of the density 0.41. But we had to 
 compare it with fine Edinburgh coal-gas of 0.62. 
 
302 OIL-GAS A FAILURE. 
 
 The two coal-gases, in fact, were to one another in 
 illuminating power as 2 : 1. 
 
 It was made too plain that the Edinburgh Oil- 
 gas Company had embarked in a ruinous undertaking. 
 Their works-manager, who witnessed our concluding 
 experiments, saw and admitted this lamentable result. 
 Their secretary, however, was not disposed to let his 
 lucrative post be so easily put an end to. He signi- 
 fied to Turner and me, at an interview after our report 
 had been delivered, that the tenor of it was not what 
 the directors had expected, and hinted that a more 
 favourable aspect should be put somehow by us upon 
 their position. But I replied with some warmth, that 
 we understood we had been employed as scientific 
 men to ascertain the truth and faithfully report it ; 
 that we had done so, and that we could not alter one 
 word of our report. Nor did we. But the secretary, 
 a knowing sohcitor, contrived to keep the Company 
 going for fully a twelvemonth more, during which he 
 and a conceited director made costly and fruitless 
 experiments on preparing a gas equal to oil-gas from 
 resins and other cheap materials. But the inevitable 
 collapse then took place ; and during an attempt to 
 obtain an Act for working coal instead of oil, a com- 
 promise and coalition were effected with their rivals 
 and opponents in Parliament, the old Coal-gas 
 Company. 
 
 During our experiments for determining the best 
 modes of burning the illuminating gases, Turner and 
 I not only discovered the general principle of economy. 
 but likewise the means for exactly applying it. We 
 
SIR WALTER SCOTT's ADVICE ON PATENTS. 303 
 
 therefore had a notion that we might advantageously 
 patent our discovery. We were in doubt, however, 
 whether that, with all its consequences, was not, in its 
 profitable aspect, the property of the Company. By 
 my elder brother's advice we referred the matter in 
 a letter to the chairman, Sir Walter Scott. He re- 
 plied that the directors were entitled only to an 
 answer to the queries submitted to us, and not to 
 any collateral discovery made in the course of work- 
 ing out the answer. But in very kind terms he 
 added this advice : that at our time of life we had 
 two courses open — either to pursue science for its own 
 sake, or to cultivate it in its practical bearings with a 
 professional pecuniary object ; but that if science itself 
 was our object in life, we should have nothing to do 
 with patents. From that time patents ceased to be 
 a temptation, and the unintelligible patent-law other 
 than a sealed book and abomination, both to my com- 
 rade and myself. I regret that I never afterwards 
 became so acquainted with Sir Walter as to thank 
 him for the satisfactory results of his sound advice. 
 
 Several patents have been since taken out by prac- 
 tical men for burning coal-gas economically as an 
 illuminator. The inventors seem to have been uni- 
 versally ignorant of the foregoing researches, by 
 which their inventions were substantially antici- 
 pated. Neither have I ever heard that any of them 
 made profit by their ingenuity. 
 
 Another experimental inquiry which greatly inter- 
 ested me — more connected with my province in the 
 University — was undertaken in 1827, also along with 
 
304 ACTION OF POISONS ON PLANTS. 
 
 Edward Turner, on the action of poisons on plants. 
 A manufacturing chemist at Bonnington Bridge, be- 
 tween Edinburgh and Xewhaven, allowed the acid 
 fumes from his alkali-works to escape over an ad- 
 joining market-garden, whose owner raised an action 
 against him for damage done to his vegetables. We 
 were shown the alleged effects, which were extensive 
 and destructive enough. But experiments for express 
 evidence were necessary, and had never been made 
 before. We found that when young laburnums, 
 larches, cress, and mignonettes were confined twenty- 
 four hours under a bell-jar in 2000 cubic inches of air 
 containing a fifth of an inch, or a 10,000th part, of 
 hydrochloric-acid gas, all the exposed leaves were 
 killed and soon dropped off, but that the stems sur- 
 vived and put out fresh leaves in a healthy atmo- 
 sphere. The appearances on the leaves were very 
 much those of autumnal withering, and exactly such 
 as we were shown in the garden beside the factory. 
 We further found that sulphurous-acid gas caused 
 precisely the same injurious effects even in the minute 
 proportion of a 20.000th part, and that nitric-acid 
 vapour acted similarly but not so energetically. In 
 all eases the action was great, although the dilution 
 was such that no odour or irritation of the nostrils 
 could be observed. Continuing these researches, we 
 subsequently found that sulphuretted - hydrogen, 
 cyanogen, and carbonic -oxide gases, also much di- 
 luted, acted as poisons powerfully but cpiite differently. 
 The oldest leaves began to droop ; and although the 
 plants were then at once removed into pure air, the 
 
BURKE AND HARE. 305 
 
 drooping spread over the whole foliage, and in a short 
 time the whole plant was irrecoverably dead. Thus, 
 as in the case of animals, so with vegetables, there 
 are two classes of poisons — irritants and narcotics — 
 the former acting locally, by injury done directly to 
 the parts exposed ; the latter attacking the function of 
 internal organs on which vitality depends. What is 
 this in plants ? 
 
 No botanical physiologist has attempted to follow 
 out these experiments. Surely the action of poisons 
 upon vegetables ought to prove, as it has done in the 
 case of animals, a powerful instrument of physiological 
 investigation. 
 
 The Bonnington case and relative inquiry con- 
 stituted my first introduction to the study of manu- 
 facturing nuisances, which afterwards engaged much 
 of my attention. Very early in this new pursuit I 
 became satisfied that manufacturers of all denomina- 
 tions may, if they choose, greatly abate or altogether 
 prevent the nuisances which they create. 
 
 Mention has been already made of the terrible 
 crimes of Burke and Hare, and of an inquiry in con- 
 nection with their case carried on in 1828 into the 
 effects of violence inflicted on the body soon after 
 death. But the whole subject, as a matter of Edin- 
 burgh history, and of some interest in the history of 
 anatomical teaching in this country, deserves more 
 than the passing notice it has previously received 
 from me — the chief party in the relative professional 
 investigations. 
 
306 CRIME DISCOVERED. 
 
 Burke and his mistress, with Hare and his wife — 
 the women as decoys, the men as principals — had 
 contrived a plan for supplying the Edinburgh school 
 of anatomy with bodies for dissection by murdering 
 their lodgers. Familiarity with success at last bred 
 carelessness. A visitor descried a dead body beneath 
 Burke's bedstead. The body was conveyed to the 
 dissecting-rooms of Dr Knox very early next morn- 
 ing. But alarm was raised in time, the police traced 
 the body, and it was claimed the same day by legal 
 authority. 
 
 Mr Newbigging and I were appointed to conduct 
 the medico-legal inspection of the body. The subject 
 was a woman, about middle age, well nourished and 
 without a trace of disease in any organ. The body 
 presented the signs of death by asphyxia — vague 
 enough in general, and in this instance particularly 
 so, because the method of the murderers left no exter- 
 nal local marks. We found, indeed, various immaterial 
 bruises on the limbs — inflicted during life because 
 attended with swelling from extravasated blood, and 
 rather recent because not surrounded by any yellow- 
 ness. But there were no external marks about the 
 neck or face to indicate how respiration had been 
 obstructed. The neck was loose, the ligaments be- 
 tween two of the vertebrae of the neck were torn 
 asunder, and a little fluid blood was effused beneath 
 the spinal investing sheath and a good deal among 
 the muscles of the neck and back. At this time we 
 knew nothing of the supposed manner of death, and 
 therefore a question arose whether death might not 
 
ORIGINAL INVESTIGATIONS. 307 
 
 have been occasioned by the head having been for- 
 cibly bent upon the breast so as to rupture the spinal 
 ligaments. Express trial, however, proved that such 
 forcible flexure, practised very soon after death, while 
 the blood is fluid and the blood-vessels retain contrac- 
 tility, produces the same appearances of extravasation 
 as in the body we had examined. We also found that 
 blows inflicted on the surface in the same circum- 
 stances produced livid marks without swelling, owing 
 to injection of the true skin with blood, but that 
 natural cadaveric livor is confined to so thin a layer 
 of tissue that the cuticle cannot be peeled off with- 
 out completely removing all discoloration ; and that 
 bruises inflicted during life are attended with swelling, 
 and generally with such distinct extravasation of blood 
 as allows of small clots of blood being detected. We 
 therefore came to the conclusion that the injury to 
 the cervical spine had been caused soon after death 
 while the body was warm ; that the bruises on the 
 limbs were occasioned not long before death, and 
 might have been caused by blows or kicks, but quite 
 as probably by falls or by stumbling against hard 
 objects ; that there were no indications of death from 
 any specific natural disease ; that every particular 
 appearance we observed was consistent with the idea 
 of death by suffocation ; that if death by violence 
 were to be assumed, smothering and not strangling 
 was the manner of it ; but that there was no positive 
 proof of death in that way, or indeed in what way 
 death had been caused. 
 
 This evidence was of course insufficient to bear out 
 
308 MODE OF " BURKING." 
 
 a charge of murder, though such as to raise the 
 strongest suspicion. The law authorities therefore 
 encouraged a tendency shown by the Hares to save 
 themselves by confession, and eventually both of 
 them became " King's evidence " against their fellow- 
 criminals. The plan of this fraternity was to make 
 acquaintance with poor people supposed to be friend- 
 less, either residents in Edinburgh or who had recent- 
 ly arrived there, and, in the course of a little kind 
 entertainment, to fill them very drunk. Then one of 
 the men, in a friendly embrace, or by stumbling against 
 the victim, threw him down on Lis back, pressed 
 him down with the whole weight of the body, closed 
 the mouth by pressing up the chin with one hand, 
 while the other covered the whole mouth and nostrils 
 firmly. The other man at the same time prevented 
 all struggling with the limbs. Eespiration was thus 
 entirely stopped. In a very few minutes death was 
 complete, without any trace of external violence 
 being left. The legs and thighs being then doubled 
 up, and the head bent forcibly down, the body could 
 be packed in a small box, which was conveyed in the 
 dark to the anatomical rooms of Dr Knox. 
 
 There was reason to suppose that this atrocious 
 trade had been carried on during the whole winter 
 of 1827-28. Burke, indeed, was said to have ad- 
 mitted after conviction, that sixteen victims had 
 been murdered by his copartnery. But villains 
 of his rare stamp are apt to indulge in the strange 
 vainglory of exaggerating their actual wickedness. 
 The Crown lawyers, however, were prepared to 
 
RESULT OF TRIAL. 309 
 
 prove, as their indictment showed, three specific 
 murders. 
 
 The opinions which Mr Newbigging and I formed 
 from the inspection alone after death, proved to cor- 
 respond in all respects with the actual cause and 
 manner of death, as described by the wretches who 
 betra) 7 ed their companions. Burke was condemned. 
 But his mistress got off with a verdict of " Not 
 proven," on the ground that she was in loco conjugis, 
 subject to Burke's influence and commands, and be- 
 cause nothing else was proved against her than that 
 she knew what was doing, but fled into the lobby to 
 escape seeing it. The three partners in these shock- 
 ing atrocities were spirited away with great care and 
 secrecy by the authorities. For there was no doubt 
 that, had the populace caught any of them unpro- 
 tected, they would have been victimised without 
 mercy. Hare's first stage was a night-journey to 
 Dumfries inside the mail-coach, where the late Sheriff 
 Sandford discovered to his horror, as day broke, who 
 had been his only travelling companion, and angrily 
 exchanged his seat to an outside place for the rest of 
 the journey in a cold winter morning. 
 
 Another person shared largely in the popular indig- 
 nation, and thereby incurred no little risk. All ranks 
 were persuaded that there had been blamable blind- 
 ness and laxity on the part of Dr Knox in his trans- 
 actions with these villains ; and as for the mobocracy 
 of the town, they looked upon him as " art and part " 
 with the active criminals, as he was their patron and 
 encourager. His effigy, therefore, was hanged by a 
 
310 DR KNOX. 
 
 great crowd from a tree in front of his house in 
 Arniston Place ; the house itself was attacked, and 
 every window smashed ; and it would have been 
 sacked but for the timely arrival of the police. His 
 life, too, was openly threatened; so that for some 
 weeks he prudently stirred out only in the dark, and 
 sought the byways in passing from place to place. 
 But he would have been a formidable adversary to 
 assail ; for, though short, he was strong, agile, and 
 resolute, and carried pistols, which he would assuredly 
 have used with effect in his defence. 
 
 A committee of men of note in the city, with the 
 Marquis of Queensberry at their head, undertook an 
 inquiry into Knox's alleged criminality ; but, after 
 many sittings, they came to no clear conclusion. My 
 own opinion at the time was, that Dr Knox, then the 
 most popular lecturer on anatomy in Edinburgh — 
 with a class of upwards of 300 students, whom he 
 must have found it very difficult to supply with suf- 
 ficient materials for dissection — had rather wilfully 
 shut his eyes to incidents which ought to have excited 
 the grave suspicions of a man of his intelligence. In 
 a conversation I had with him before the information 
 obtained from Hare and his wife had been communi- 
 cated to me, I observed that the body taken by the 
 police from his rooms must have been debvered there 
 while warm and flexible, and consequently never had 
 been buried. He made very light of this suggestion, 
 and told me that he had ten or eleven bodies brought 
 the previous winter to his rooms in as recent a state ; 
 and that they were got by his providers watching the 
 
HIS FATE. 311 
 
 low lodging-houses in the Cowgate, Grassmarket, and 
 West Port, and, when a death occurred, purchasing 
 the body from the tenant before any one could claim 
 it for interment. But Dr Knox could scarcely have 
 been so little aware of the habits of the low populace 
 who frequent these dens, as not to know that a death 
 in one of them brought a constant succession of visi- 
 tors to look at the corpse, and keep up a series of 
 orgies till they saw it carried off for burial ; and con- 
 sequently, that no such arrangement with the lodging- 
 house-keeper as he described was practicable. In 
 fact, Professor Syme told me, that, when he taught 
 anatomy a short time before, he had tried to organise 
 such a system of supply, but that he found it im- 
 possible, for the reason now given. Knox, a man of 
 undoubted talent, but notoriously deficient in prin- 
 ciple and in heart, was exactly the person to blind 
 himself against suspicion, and fall into blamable 
 carelessness. But it was absurd to charge him with 
 anything worse. 
 
 He never recovered in Edinburgh society from the 
 stigma which thus attached to him. His talent as a 
 lecturer kept his class-room crowded as usual, but only 
 for a few years. The numbers fell off at last ; he left 
 Edinburgh ; and after various vicissitudes, and succes- 
 sive descents, he sank, before his death in London, to 
 a state not much above destitution. One of his last 
 occupations was that of lecturer, demonstrator, or 
 showman, to a travelling party of Ojibbeway Indians. 
 
312 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE KING VISITS EDINBURGH DRESS GENERALLY ADOPTED THE 
 
 KING AT THE THEATRE A PIT SQUEEZED ITS EFFECTS. 
 
 Having now traced my medico-legal life much in 
 advance, and passing by other events not unworthy 
 of notice, I must return to the first year of my 
 professorship. 
 
 In the autumn of that year, 1822, occurred the 
 memorable visit of King George IV. to Scotland. 
 Nowadays, though the citizens of Edinburgh are well 
 pleased to receive a royal visit, her Majesty's pro- 
 longed annual residence in the north takes away the 
 excitement of novelty ; and consequently, in spite of 
 her eminent popularity, and the hearty enthusiasm 
 with which she is invariably received when she ap- 
 pears in public, my fellow - townsmen have never 
 shown such continuous, untiring ecstasy as when they 
 welcomed to Scottish soil the first monarch who had 
 deigned to look upon it since the days of the 
 Stuarts. I had a full share of the various sights and 
 in many of the scenes of the time. But it would 
 
DRESS GENERALLY ADOPTED. 313 
 
 be tedious to say all I might say of my experience, 
 though I still remember clearly very many of the 
 incidents. 
 
 One thing may be truly said of the fourth George 
 — that, whatever his faults, he was every inch a king- 
 in his public appearances. He was tall, handsomely 
 made, or else admirably got up, and in his manner 
 most gracious, and even kindly. I had a good op- 
 portunity of judging when he received our Senatus 
 Academicus in Holyrood Palace. He had a fine 
 sonorous voice, and delivered his answer to our ad- 
 dress with the perfect grace and finish of a John 
 Kemble. At the close, when our pursy and not too 
 youthful Principal Baird knelt and kissed hands 
 in name of the University, the King, with the be- 
 nevolence and mien of a veritable pater •patriae, 
 helped him to rise up again. 
 
 Though the late Sir Patrick Walker of Drum- 
 sheugh was Heritable Chief-Usher at that time, Sir 
 Walter Scott was by general consent accepted as the 
 real master of ceremonies, so far as concerned the 
 public. Whether he was practically costumier for 
 the purpose, I do not know, but he it was who got 
 the credit of giving great prominence to the Celtic 
 dress for various bodies of men whose uniform had 
 not been previously settled otherwise ; and thus he 
 gave origin, or at least fixity, to the common de- 
 lusion of Englishmen, as well as foreigners, that 
 Scotland is a nation of Celtic Highlanders. The 
 magistracy caused it to be understood that, for the 
 credit of the country and capital, all spectators of 
 
314 A PIT SQUEEZE. 
 
 the royal progress should turn out clad in their 
 " Sunday's best " ; and so heartily was the recommen- 
 dation accepted, that the squalid seemed nowhere 
 represented, and his Majesty expressed his astonish- 
 ment that an Edinburgh mob was a crowd of gentle- 
 men. Either the magistracy or Sir Walter also con- 
 trived to instil into the public mind the desirable- 
 ness of all gentlemen appearing in the streets in blue 
 swallow-tail coats with large gilt buttons, having the 
 word " welcome " in big letters across them. The 
 fashion took, clown to the most humble class of gen- 
 tility, and much lower. Like the Celtic uniform of our 
 troops, it had an imposing appearance in a body of 
 men, but in the case of an individual was somewhat 
 ridiculous. 
 
 The King went one evening to the theatre, and wit- 
 nessed the excellent dramatic version of " Rob Roy," 
 performed by the original company, who rendered it 
 for many years the most popular drama of that period. 
 A row being expected, from certain indications in a 
 great crowd which had besieged the pit-door from 
 an early hour, I went late to watch the proceed- 
 ings. A mass of the male sex alone, at least four 
 times greater than the pit could hold, and chiefly 
 composed of strangers from the country, who were un- 
 aware of the usual rule on great occasions, which was 
 to stand quiet till the door should open, had been 
 crushing, surging, and swaying for nearly five hours ; 
 and every now and then a man was rolled out from 
 the front over the heads of the mass, or gradually 
 ejected from the edge, seething, dishevelled, exhausted, 
 
ITS EFFECTS. 315 
 
 and fainting. When at last the door opened, the 
 screams in front were quite alarming. But now no 
 one could get out, while, at the same time, the prog- 
 ress made was extremely slow, because those in the 
 van had great difficulty in disentangling legs, arms, 
 and apparel from the dense pack. The difficulty was 
 increased by a heavy squad of people squeezing from 
 that part of the outside which was directly opposite 
 the door. But it was well known to adepts like my- 
 self that no one ever got forward from that direction, 
 or otherwise than by creeping onward close to the 
 wall. I had gone to the scene without the slightest 
 intention of entering. But at last, being an experi- 
 enced pit-man in the palmy days of John Kemble 
 and other London stars, and having the advantage of 
 being tall and strong, though slender, I exclaimed, 
 after the door had been fully ten minutes open, " I 
 bet I'll get in still ! " and rushed to the extreme end 
 of the crowd close to the wall. In ten minutes more 
 I had gone successfully through the conflict, and was 
 seated in the middle of the fifth row from the back of 
 the pit. One man after another, on arriving within, 
 had tumbled down in a faint, and had been quickly 
 hoisted out again through the lower tier of boxes. A 
 strong young countryman, staggering along the seat 
 behind me, muttered, " It's an awfu' thing to fent 
 noo after fechting in the crood for five hoors ! " and 
 at once fell down in a state of collapse. He was about 
 to be sent after his predecessors, but I objected, 
 made a temporary clearance for him, laid him down 
 horizontally on the bench, and by tweaking his nose, 
 
316 A GRATEFUL COUNTRYMAN. 
 
 rapping his forehead with my nails, and talking- 
 encouragement to him — with the aid of a big pear, 
 which the hand of some unseen philanthropist thrust 
 on his mouth, and upon which the mouth opened 
 and shut appreciatively — I succeeded in bringing him 
 completely round. During the rest of the evening 
 the grateful swain never tired of pouring out his 
 thanks at every interval of the performances. It was 
 always, "Eh, sir, if it hadna been for you," &c, &c. 
 The King paid steady attention to the stage, and ob- 
 viously understood and enjoyed the jokes of Bailie 
 Nicol Jarvie, and the hybrid tongue of " The Dougal 
 creature." He must have been much gratified, too, 
 with his reception by the audience. Even the gods, 
 awed apparently by the presence of one of the Dii 
 majores visiting the earth below, abstained from their 
 customary vociferations and other uncouth noises, and 
 showed how easily they could behave as gentlemen. 
 
317 
 
 CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 TOWN COUNCIL AND SENATUS. 
 
 POWER OP THE TOWN COUNCIL COMPLETE AT THE FIRST LORD 
 
 PROVOST DRUMMOND INITIATES A CENTURY OP FREEDOM TOWN 
 
 COUNCIL RESUMES AUTHORITY THEIR "VISITATION" IN 1825 
 
 REPEATED CONTESTS PROSTRATION OF THE SENATUS REACTION 
 
 AND PUBLIC MEETING — -BILL FOR IMPROVEMENT OF THE UNI- 
 VERSITIES OF SCOTLAND CONSEQUENT GREAT ADVANCE OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH. 
 
 Not long after I joined the University, there hap- 
 pened concurrently, and indeed connectedly, two 
 events which, in their shifting phases, have greatly 
 ruled its destiny ever since. 
 
 The Senatus Academicus came to the resolution to 
 alter greatly and improve the curriculum of study 
 for medical graduation ; whence arose, at many 
 consecutive meetings, not only much conflict of 
 opinion, but likewise no little wrangling and bitter 
 words — and even, alas ! an action at law for person- 
 alities. At the same time, and inextricably mixed up 
 with these measures of reform, there commenced, be- 
 tween the Senatus Academicus and the Town Council 
 of the city, a series of feuds which only came to an 
 
318 EARLY RELATIONS. 
 
 end thirty-six years afterwards, when " The Univer- 
 sities (Scotland) Act " of 1858 put an end to municipal 
 jurisdiction over us. In all these feuds, young as I 
 was, and in a conclave of reverend seniors, I bore a 
 prominent part. Man, whatever other definition may 
 be given of him, is certainly a pugnacious animal. 
 
 When James VI. established his College in Edin- 
 burgh, he did not so much found it as grant the 
 Town Council a charter to found it for him. Natur- 
 ally enough, for men fond of power, they did not create 
 the proper constituent bodies for self-government of a 
 university, or concede " such powers, privileges, and 
 immunities as any other college in his Majesty's realm 
 brooks and enjoys," according to the terms of the deed 
 of foundation, but they reserved all such privileges 
 for themselves and their successors. The professors 
 were, in fact, mere schoolmasters, removable at 
 the Town Council's pleasure, and stripped of all 
 independent academical jurisdiction. There was in 
 the early days a struggle for freedom, but in vain 
 during such tyrannical times. The Scottish burghs 
 fought manfully for their own emancipation from 
 tyrannical sway ; but they were themselves no less 
 tyrants where they were masters. The Town Councd 
 knocked down and raised up professors, according to 
 the political rage or other ruling passion of the day. 
 They appointed all the minor officials of the College, 
 on whom the comfort, and in some measure the use- 
 fulness, of the professors depend. They even " took 
 fatherly charge of the College bell." They regulated 
 the minutest arrangements, and the discipline of the 
 
A CENTURY OF FREEDOM. 319 
 
 school, as well as the rules for all manner of gradua- 
 tion. On the occasion probably of some demur or 
 spontaneous exercise of authority on the part of " the 
 Faculty " — as the Senatus was then called — they sum- 
 marily settled the whole question of respective juris- 
 diction by a sweeping Act, that " all College business 
 was to be transacted in the Council, and the professors 
 sent for when wanted {pro re natd)." Whether on 
 the same or another occasion, they made a " raid" on 
 the Senatus, and carried off the minutes of that body ; 
 and these, recording the first century of the life of the 
 College, have never been recovered. 
 
 Matters went on in this state of misrule for nearly 
 150 years, during which there was given out by the 
 University no tangible evidence of prosperity, nor did 
 it make any mark on the literature or science of the 
 time. But, from the beginning of the second quarter 
 of last century, the accession of men of great ability 
 and no little public influence to the ranks of the 
 Senatus, together with the enlightened administration 
 of Lord Provost Drummond — a far - seeing man, of 
 much influence in all city affairs — -gradually developed 
 a new order of things. The Senatus, left to regulate 
 itself, exercised ere long, and continued to exercise 
 for about a century, uncontrolled jurisdiction in all 
 matters relative to education and graduation. They 
 even ventured to encroach on the patronage of the 
 Town Council by subjecting candidates for professor- 
 ships to examination, and appointed teachers in the 
 University who had not the rank and privileges of 
 professors. This change of rule, permissive only in its 
 
320 TOWN COUNCIL INTERFERES. 
 
 foundation, was allowed to continue for almost a cen- 
 tury. Consequently both parties seem to have lost sight 
 of the singular primary constitution of the University. 
 
 But after the beginning of the present century a 
 certain member of the Council, burrowing among its 
 ancient forgotten records, discovered the unpleasant 
 truth that the municipality was really all but omni- 
 potent in University management. General rumour 
 named as the discoverer a President of the College of 
 Surgeons, who had a seat in the Council as Deacon of 
 the craft of Surgeon-Barbers, and who was understood 
 to have been impelled by cordial hatred of Dr Hope and 
 Dr Monro, the Professors of Chemistry and Anatomy. 
 I had no personal knowledge on that head, but there 
 was no doubt that he and his successors in the chair 
 of the Royal College backed with all their might the 
 persecution to which the Senatus Academicus were 
 subjected at that time and for many years afterwards. 
 
 The breach between the two bodies began in this 
 way. Dr James Hamilton, whose lectures on Mid- 
 wifery had become so popular that there were few 
 medical students who did not attend them, applied in 
 1815 to the Medical Faculty to have the study of his 
 subject made imperative on candidates for the degree 
 of Doctor of Medicine. The Faculty declined his re- 
 quest, being guided by its three senior members, who 
 had long been on no friendly footing with the appli- 
 cant. Therefore, in 1824, he applied to the Council 
 to exercise their authority by passing an Act com- 
 pelbng the Senatus to add his class to the curriculum 
 for graduation. By this procedure he played into 
 
A " VISITATION." 321 
 
 the hand of the Town Council, whose object was to 
 find a ground for raising an action of declarator of 
 right to govern the University as of old. But it was 
 a great error on Hamilton's part ; because several 
 professors, hostile to him in 1815, had in the interval 
 been succeeded by others, who, like myself, were in 
 his favour, so that his case would positively have 
 been carried, had it been renewed in the Senatus. 
 
 Meanwhile the Senatus, in the summer of 1824, had 
 taken up the general question of medical study at 
 large in the University, and contemplated much more 
 extensive changes in the medical curriculum. After 
 long and keen discussion, it was finally resolved in 
 1825 — 1. To extend the time of study from three to 
 four years ; 2. To require one year to be passed in 
 medical study at the University of Edinburgh ; 3. To 
 allow another to be counted by attendance on the 
 practice of any large hospital and on Practical Ana- 
 tomy ; 4. To add Midwifery to the seven subjects 
 already required for the curriculum ; 5. To require 
 also attendance on any two of the five following sub- 
 jects — Practical Anatomy, Clinical Surgery, Medical 
 Jurisprudence, Natural History, and Military Surgery ; 
 6. To enforce the new rules, according to precedent, 
 on those students only who should commence their 
 medical curriculum after their promulgation. 
 
 Dr Hamilton's object was thus attained, but not 
 that of the Town Council. They thereupon demanded 
 that attendance on Midwifery, and that alone of all 
 the new rules, should be enforced at once on every 
 future graduate. The Senatus refused this outrageous 
 
322 ROYAL COMMISSION OF 1831. 
 
 proposal. The Council then paid us a " visitation " 
 of the whole body in their robes, and with their 
 sword and mace, in October 1825; were received 
 by us in our gowns, marshalled in a line on the other 
 side of a long table ; ordered us to obey their man- 
 date ; were formally disobeyed ; and immediately pro- 
 ceeded to enforce their order by an action in the 
 Court of Session. The judges thought themselves 
 compelled to be guided by the most grinding inter- 
 pretation that could be put upon the ambiguous terms 
 of a musty old parchment, and by the result of the 
 long bygone struggles of an infant University with 
 the tyranny of its masters, rather than by the prac- 
 tical experience of one hundred recent years of peace 
 and prosperity under self-government. They found 
 the Town Council to be the governing body of the 
 University. It was added, to be sure, that this de- 
 cision did not make everything they might do legal. 
 If they attempted an illegabt)^, the Court of Session 
 was open to us. Open indeed ! at the cost of another 
 thousand pounds out of our private pockets ! 
 
 When the lawsuit commenced, the Senatus applied 
 in 1826 to Government, during the Premiership of Lord 
 Liverpool, and when Sir Eobert Peel was Home Secre- 
 tary, for a Royal Commission of inquiry into the Uni- 
 versity constitution and its working, which was granted. 
 
 After a protracted investigation by a mixed Com- 
 mission of both sides in State politics — Lord Rosebery 
 being chairman — their report in 1831 recommended 
 that the government of the University should be 
 transferred from the municipality of the city to the 
 
THEIR RECOMMENDATIONS. 323 
 
 Senatus Academicus, and to a superior court of review, 
 consisting of seven expressly appointed members. 
 But they left the patronage of the University chairs 
 undisturbed, and consequently fifteen of twenty-six 
 professorships were to remain entirely in the hands 
 of the Town Council, whom they even complimented 
 for their exercise of this part of their functions. 
 The Commissioners fell into several grievous errors 
 besides this one — all injurious to University inter- 
 ests, and all arising from carelessness amidst appar- 
 ent caution. For example, instead of asking for a 
 return of the actual emoluments of the several pro- 
 fessors, they apjDlied the multiplication-table to the 
 fees and number of students of the several classes, 
 and so brought out a handsome income, generally 
 one-third, and in one case one-half, greater than the 
 reality. This exaggeration of professorial emolu- 
 ments naturally gave great encouragement and facil- 
 ity afterwards to the Town Council in carrying 
 through various changes which involved serious loss 
 to several professors. Again, the Commissioners were 
 so rash as to charge the Medical Faculty with increas- 
 ing laxity in their examination of candidates for the 
 doctorate, merely because the doctors of medicine had 
 multiplied in a greater ratio than the medical students. 
 Had they made the requisite inquiry, they would have 
 learned, in the first place, that the examinations had 
 become notoriously more stringent, and were held to 
 be so by the students themselves ; and secondly, that 
 the explantion of the high ratio of graduates to 
 students was a very simple matter. During the 
 
324 THE COMMISSIONERS' ERRORS. 
 
 long French war, and till after the peace in 1815, the 
 exigencies of the naval and military services induced 
 many young men to leave the School with the quali- 
 fication of surgeon, instead of making out the longer 
 period of study required for graduation. The pro- 
 portion of graduates was thus necessarily reduced. 
 But gradually after the peace, numbers of these men 
 returned, became students anew, but for a single year 
 only, and then took the degree, thus swelling the list 
 of graduates much beyond the previous proportion. 
 The ineulpated Faculty addressed an indignant re- 
 monstrance to the chairman and other members of 
 the Commission. All acknowledged the error; but 
 no public authoritative correction could be made, 
 because the Commission had ceased to exist. The 
 false censure consequently long furnished an apt 
 handle to our envious English brethren, who took 
 every occasion to raise an outcry against the alleged 
 laxity of examination in the Universities of Scotland. 
 The injured professors took advantage of the permis- 
 sion of the individual commissioners to make public 
 their acknowledgment of error. But I have seen too 
 many instances like this of an error in a public 
 document, or original, scientific, or literary statement, 
 where the error is seen and bebeved by a hundred 
 people for one who sees its correction. The error 
 lives on — the correction dies out. Another mistake 
 was a recommendation that every professor in the 
 Medical Faculty should be required to give, in addi- 
 tion to his lectures, a second hour daily to examining 
 his students. A system of examination so laborious 
 
NO LEGISLATIVE RESULT. '325 
 
 and irksome is very sorry work for the minds of such 
 as ought always to be the occupants of medical chairs 
 in a great University. To require the sacrifice of two 
 hours daily from professors who are engaged in medical 
 and surgical practice, would be equivalent to com- 
 pelling them to resign office. Moreover, where were 
 to be found the additional daily hours for the new 
 work, seeing that, even as matters had long stood 
 in the medical department, it had been found very 
 difficult to arrange the forenoon hours for the lectures 
 alone of the several professors, so that they should not 
 interfere with one another? The Commissioners' 
 examination scheme was, in short, utterly impracti- 
 cable. I may add too, from actual experience, that, 
 if practicable, it would have been found useless. But 
 the greatest mistake of the Commissioners was their 
 commendation and continuance of the municipal exer- 
 cise of patronage, — a strange concession in face of the 
 fact that, but a few years before, the Town Council 
 had rejected Babbage for the chair of Mathematics, 
 and Abercrombie for that of the Practice of Physic. 
 Either the Commissioners, for political reasons, were 
 averse to offend the then Tory Town Council out 
 and out on the University question ; or perhaps they 
 looked back to the appointments of the preceding 
 century, when the men who were chosen stood out 
 so prominent for greatness of intellect that blundering 
 or partial favour was an impossibility. 
 
 No good ever came to the University from the 
 report of the Eoyal Commission of 1831. The Tory 
 Ministry who granted it were displaced in that year 
 
326 TYRANNY. 
 
 by a Whig Government, whose policy it was to flatter 
 and favour the burghs and town councils. They had 
 not courage enough to offend the municipality of 
 Edinburgh. Thus it was that the Commission failed 
 to bring about any legislative measure. But often 
 afterwards the statements, criticisms, and speculations 
 in the report furnished the opponents and ill-wishers of 
 the University with support for their crude ideas of im- 
 provement for the benefit of the public — or themselves. 
 An attempt was made by the Senatus to suspend 
 the lawsuit with the Town Council during the pro- 
 ceedings of the Royal Commission, but unsuccessfully. 
 The Council were placed by the decision of the judges 
 in possession of summary authority over the University 
 in all respects. They claimed and exercised the right 
 of appointing the University secretary, librarian, ana- 
 tomical curator, janitor, and porter. They even made 
 a movement towards taking into their hands the ap- 
 pointment of the class-doorkeepers, whose wages, how- 
 ever, the professors were to be allowed the privilege of 
 paying. They provided examination-fees for additional 
 members of the Medical Faculty, by taking them from 
 the previously existing members ; so that in 1833 this 
 part of the income of the old chairs was reduced to 
 less than one-half. They withdrew certain small class- 
 fees received for museum and experimental expenses, 
 without providing any compensation ; and thus they 
 threw the whole of a new charge on the professors. 
 In these two ways, for example, the annual income of 
 my subsequent chair of Materia Medica was reduced 
 by £150 under what it was in my predecessor's time. 
 
BURGH REFORM ACT COMMISSION. 327 
 
 Not content with this, having, on my succession, 
 purchased for the University Dr Duncan's apparatus 
 and Materia Medica museum, they tried to claim all 
 additions I might make, without proposing to con- 
 tribute towards the cost, which in a very few years 
 amounted to £500. But this exaction I refused to 
 submit to, and they were compelled to withdraw it. 
 
 Presently, too, the Council began to interfere with 
 matters of College discipline and education. But for 
 a time they were disturbed, and their attention turned 
 to matters which more directly concerned them, by 
 the proceedings of a new and unexpected Commission of 
 inquiry into their own constitution, powers, and duties. 
 
 For carrying out the Burgh Beform Act of 1832 a 
 Parliamentary Commission was appointed, with in- 
 structions to ascertain the extent, privileges, and gov- 
 ernment of each burgh, and how far these required 
 alteration. The Edinburgh Commission, after a long 
 inquiry and much evidence, reported that the charge 
 of a great University was not a suitable duty for a 
 municipal body ; and that both its government and 
 patronage ought to be vested in an academic court, to 
 be expressly appointed for the purpose. Although 
 this Commission consisted entirely of a large body of 
 Whig lawyers, and had come to this conclusion with 
 only one dissentient voice, the Whig Government had 
 not the courage to adopt their recommendation — 
 deterred, no doubt, by the certainty of rousing the 
 municipal ire, and the risk of enlisting it against 
 their party in the city elections. But their forbear- 
 ance did not prevent the city memberships from pass- 
 
328 THE CROWN AND THE TOWN COUNCIL. 
 
 ing out of their hands into those of the Radicals a 
 few years later. 
 
 Meanwhile the Town Council, " through all restraint 
 broke loose," and by gradually closing the fetters of the 
 Senatus, brought it about that no resolution of that 
 body of any moment could be considered valid until 
 it received municipal sanction. Thus University affairs 
 were constantly before the Town Council, and grave 
 questions were made the subject of discussion by 
 ignorant, presumptuous, flippant men, who could see 
 in them little else than a Senatus or a professor to be 
 snubbed. 
 
 The Senatus Academicus made one struggle more for 
 independence, the point in dispute being, as before, 
 the regulation of the medical curriculum. In 1831, the 
 Whig Government had erected two new professorships 
 in the Medical Faculty, one of General Pathology and 
 one of Surgery — but for the first time, in the case of 
 chairs founded by the Crown, without endowment. 
 
 " Statesmen and cooks, whate'er you do, 
 In statecraft or gastronomy, 
 Be sure you always keep in view 
 To do it with economy." 
 
 They provided the new professors with incomes, 
 however, on an entirely novel plan, by rendering 
 attendance on their lectures imperative for graduation 
 in medicine. Thus the Crown clearly encroached upon 
 the rights which the Town Council had quite recently 
 and successfully fought for, and accordingly the Coun- 
 cil took offence and threatened resistance. But the 
 Government prevailed on the Town Council to wink 
 
CHANGES IN MEDICAL CURRICULUM. 329 
 
 at the infringement, by ignominiously surrendering to 
 it the future patronage of the two chairs. 
 
 Besides these great changes in medical study, the 
 Senatus Academicus in 1833 put an end to the op- 
 tional system of attendance on certain classes, passed 
 by them in 1825, and required attendance on Practical 
 Anatomy, Clinical Surgery, Medical Jurisprudence, and 
 Natural History, on the part of all candidates for the 
 degree of Doctor of Medicine. But the strict Univer- 
 sity system of study, with so many new subjects 
 added in the course of a few years, would have 
 borne too heavily on our numerous students from 
 England and Ireland, where there was at that time 
 very little opportunity of studying in universities, 
 but nevertheless no lack of good non-academical 
 schools of medicine. The Senatus therefore resolved 
 to admit the schools of the large London hospitals 
 and that of the Dublin College of Surgeons to the 
 full privileges of university schools. 
 
 The Edinburgh extra-academical lecturers, now a 
 very numerous body, were not included in this Ex- 
 tension Act — because, unlike the recognised great 
 medical schools, they were of " spontaneous genera- 
 tion," receiving no appointment or election from any 
 public body ; because they were a set of men having 
 no cohesion, and subject to no authority for due dis- 
 cipline ; because on each subject of lecture as many 
 might become teachers as chose ; and because their 
 fees were lower than in the University. They rose 
 in wrath, of course, at the slight put upon them, and 
 appealed to the Town Council for redress. The Town 
 
330 POSITION OF A PROFESSOR. 
 
 Council received the appeal favourably, refused to 
 sanction the proposed changes, and substituted the 
 rules which still substantially regulate university 
 medical education. A candidate for graduation may 
 study for two of the four required years, and attend 
 any four of thirteen necessary classes, with recognised 
 extra-academical lecturers in Edinburgh, or at recog- 
 nised non-university schools, whose courses of lectures 
 are the same in extent as those of the University. 
 
 On a surface view this appears a fair regulation. 
 But it was really unjust in a school whose university 
 chairs had no endowment. For a professor cannot, 
 like a private lecturer, change his subject at will, 
 should he find it unsuitable, or himself exposed to too 
 formidable competition. He accepts a special office as 
 the business of his life, by which he is to make his liv- 
 ing, mainly or entirely ; while a private lecturer takes 
 up his occupation chiefly to bring himself into notice, 
 and easily quits it when he thus gets into professional 
 practice. Moreover, a professor may have at his door 
 not merely one but several extra -academic rivals — 
 occasionally, it has happened, so many as four — each 
 of whom may have a considerable class, an amount of 
 competition which it must require very rare talent to 
 meet. The sole compensating advantage to the public 
 from this regulation, and the only one put forth in 
 its favour, was that when the Town Council made a 
 blunder, and appointed an unfit professor, or when 
 an aged professor clung too long to his chair, able 
 teaching might be provided extra-academically, or 
 resignation brought about by indirect compulsion. A 
 
a provost's device. 331 
 
 peculiar merit of this action of the scheme was its 
 parsimony, as it did not involve any provision even 
 for the declining years of an aged and meritorious 
 professor. So helpless had the Town Council made 
 themselves in this respect, that when Dr Alison some 
 years afterwards was struck down in full possession 
 of mental power and popularity as a professor,' and 
 was consequently compelled to resign after forty 
 years of precious service, and impoverished by his 
 lavish charities, — although they were sincerely de- 
 sirous to provide a retiring salary for him, they had 
 no means whatever for the purpose, and had actually 
 divested the Senatus of the power of assisting them. 
 
 A very odd attempt was made to get out of the 
 difficulty. In 1841, the Senatus, in their scheme for 
 appropriating the Eeid Fund, laid aside a portion of 
 the annual interest as available for retiring allow- 
 ances ; and it was applied on the resignation of Dr 
 Monro in 1846, and of Dr Brunton in 1848. But 
 on the appointment of Professor Donaldson to the 
 Music Chair, he quarrelled with the whole Senatus 
 regarding the Beid Fund Appropriation Scheme, 
 raised an action for interdict against the Senatus 
 in the Court of Session, and was clever enough to 
 get the Town Council to concur with him in it. Of 
 course during the lawsuit the hands of the Senatus 
 were tied up ; and the case had not come to a deci- 
 sion of the Court when Dr Alison resigned. Great 
 was my amazement therefore, when the Lord Provost, 
 having requested an interview with me, suggested 
 that I should propose to the Senatus to assign the 
 
332 THE SENATUS IN COURT. 
 
 Doctor a retiring allowance from the Eeid Fund. I 
 at once reminded him that the Council had taken us 
 into Court, and applied for an interdict against this 
 very mode, amongst others, of applying the General's 
 bequest. " Oh," replied he, " but such a vote would 
 not be disputed : I know that the Town Council 
 would homologate it ; and I am aware your influence 
 is such with the Senatus that, were you to propose 
 the measure, they would consent." Notwithstanding 
 the flattering unction, I was not to be misled, and 
 replied at once that, if I did possess the influence he 
 supposed, it would be put an end to were I to make 
 such a proposal, and that the Senatus would receive 
 with scoffs alike the proposal and the proposer. 
 
 Thus Alison, the very best of men, by an unfor- 
 tunate concatenation of circumstances, of which the 
 Town .Council was the main cause, would have lived 
 during the few remaining years of his life in strait- 
 ened means, had his friends not succeeded in obtain- 
 ing for him from the Crown a pension on the Civil 
 List. 
 
 But to return from this digression — for the reasons 
 stated above, — also because the regulations of the 
 Town Council, while they could not and did not 
 appease the College of Surgeons, brought into too 
 prominent a footing the numerous petty medical 
 schools of the English county towns, a few only 
 of which deserved so complete recognition, — the 
 Senatus declined to adopt these regulations in place 
 of their own. The Town Council therefore again 
 dragged the Senatus into Court, in order to enforce 
 
THE SENATUS CRUSHED. 333 
 
 their resolutions ; and this action, like the former, 
 ended entirely in their favour. 
 
 This blow was the finishing-stroke to the corporate 
 action of the Senatus. Member after member ceased 
 to take interest in affairs in which they had virtually 
 no freedom, and were controlled by a body of men 
 the most of them without university or other high- 
 class education, chosen for purposes far removed from 
 educational management, and that of the most ele- 
 vated kind, and who had no sympathy with the 
 functions of the teachers, or with the teachers them- 
 selves. Professors began to confine themselves alto- 
 gether to their class-work ; even my own zeal began 
 to flag, and apathy stole apace over the senate-hall. 
 
 When the Town Council won their first action with 
 the Senatus, the Lord Provost, meeting Professor 
 Dunbar one day at dinner, and having reached that 
 festive stage when some people are apt to show that 
 there is in vino Veritas, astounded the Professor with 
 the information, " We have got you professors under 
 
 our thumb now, and by you shall feel it ! " We 
 
 had indeed felt it, and long enough too. But the 
 day of retribution for them and of deliverance for us 
 was approaching. The learned professions in Edin- 
 burgh were apprised in every private circle of the 
 slavery to which the professors were reduced, of 
 the chill which had been creeping over University 
 affairs, and of the great diminution of students which 
 had taken place for twenty years progressively after 
 the Town Council had established their jurisdiction 
 over us, and freely exercised it in all things. Oppor- 
 
334 RE ACTION . 
 
 tunities were taken by professors and others to make 
 known to some members of Government how matters 
 now stood with us. As the result of this stirring up 
 of public feeling, and without planning or any par- 
 ticular preparation, a great public meeting was held 
 in 1857, when Lord Chancellor Campbell presided, 
 and strong resolutions were passed in favour of a 
 thorough change of constitution for the University. 
 The Chancellor's address was very good ; but the 
 only part of it I now clearly recollect was a brief in- 
 terlude of warm thanks to me for having " helped 
 him to hang Palmer " — the connection of which with 
 university reform I do not yet altogether comprehend. 
 
 Soon after this event it was generally understood 
 that Lord Advocate Moncreiff, now Lord Justice-Clerk, 
 had undertaken to introduce into the House of Com- 
 mons a Bill for Improvement of the Universities of 
 Scotland ; and by-and-by there was no doubt that he 
 had set about the work for the session of 1857. But a 
 change of Government threw him out of office, and in- 
 terrupted the execution of his good intentions. His 
 mantle thus fell upon his successor, Lord Advocate 
 Inglis, now Lord Justice-General, who threw into the 
 undertaking his rare ability and whole energy. 
 
 The delay was fortunate. I have never learnt how 
 far Lord Moncreiff meant to go with his Bill. He 
 was well disposed towards us, and knew well how 
 much our predicament called for relief; but he must 
 have felt himself trammelled by the connection of his 
 political party with the Edinburgh Town Council. I 
 am afraid, therefore, that his Bill might have been 
 in many respects a compromise between justice 
 
UNIVERSITIES BILL OF 1858. 335 
 
 and wisdom on the one side, and party policy on 
 the other, and especially that nothing would have 
 been done towards reforming the department of 
 patronage. But the Conservative Lord Advocate 
 could feel no such restraint or bias. Quite the con- 
 trary. The unreformed Town Council was strongly 
 Conservative, the reformed Council resolutely and 
 hopelessly the reverse. Inglis's intention was to re- 
 duce the Town Council's share in all branches of 
 academic jurisdiction and management to nil or a 
 minimum. Had the parliamentary session not been 
 too near a close, he would have succeeded entirely ; 
 for an overwhelming amount of evidence in the hands 
 of Sir William Stirling-Maxwell, on the incompetence 
 of the Town Council to exercise patronage, would 
 in that case have annihilated them with ridicule 
 and instances of blundering. But the Council fought 
 every inch, even of the most untenable ground, with 
 pertinacity, on the principle of vincere cunctando ; 
 and the Parliament was so near an end for the year, 
 that, in order to carry his Bill through the remain- 
 ing necessary steps, the Advocate had to compromise 
 the patronage clause by allowing the Town Council 
 to appoint four out of seven members in a court of 
 patronage, the appointment of three others being left 
 to the University Court. 
 
 In the University Court, however, the Council were 
 allowed only two representatives out of eight, which 
 has proved in practice to amount to annihilation of 
 undue influence. The exuberant share of the Town 
 Council in the new court of patronage they owed 
 very much to the then city member, my excellent 
 
336 THE UNIVERSITY RECOVERS. 
 
 and attached friend Adam Black. The Lord Advocate 
 could not help yielding as he did ; but the unfitness of 
 such a court of patrons soon became evident. 
 
 The justification of the resistance of the Senatus 
 Academicus to municipal rule over the University 
 was amply demonstrated in a few years. I do not 
 say that the misgovernment of our intermeddling 
 rulers was the sole cause of a progressive decline 
 in the number of students which took place during 
 their sway. Other influences probably co-operated. 
 Nevertheless it is an undeniable fact, that during 
 the period of perpetual interference on the part of 
 the Town Council in University affairs, the number 
 of students fell off year after year, from 2300 in 1823 
 to 1550 in 1858, the year of the passing of the Uni- 
 versities Act. The evil effects of long misrule in a com- 
 munity usually continue for some time after misrule 
 has passed away. In the present instance they lasted 
 for five or six years more, for the total students 
 in 1864-65 were only 1416. But with the increase of 
 funds and the energy of free self-government, popu- 
 larity soon returned ; and the matriculation list sub- 
 sequently rose with rapidity to 2350 in the winter of 
 1877-78. The Medical Faculty, in whose case most 
 interference had taken place, lost 52 per cent of the 
 number of their students of 1823. For several years 
 these numbered between 427 and 444. This winter 
 session (1878-79) the medical population of the Uni- 
 versity has reached 1050, which an average entrance 
 in the summer session will raise to 1200. 
 
337 
 
 CHAPTEE XVII. 
 
 THE SENATUS. 
 
 the cause of medical jurisprudence upheld dr james 
 
 Hamilton's retort — his quarrels and lawsuits with 
 other professors his humanity his unexpected leni- 
 ency to a candidate for degree the town council 
 
 attempts to found a professorship of practical chem- 
 istry the laird of dalswinton on writing to the 
 
 newspapers. 
 
 When the Senatus took under review the improve- 
 ments in medical education and graduation which re- 
 sulted in the New Statuta Solennia of 1825, many 
 meetings of Senatus were held, and much discus- 
 sion took place, relative to the numerous important 
 changes proposed. 
 
 I had of course to uphold the cause of medical 
 jurisprudence, which I did strenuously, with the 
 powerful aid of Dr Duncan, jun., Dr Graham, and 
 Dr Alison. I prepared for the Senatus a memorial in 
 favour of my chair. The two leading arguments used 
 were, — 1. Its adoption for many years past as an im- 
 perative study for graduation at every famous Con- 
 tinental university — and, 2. The large share of atten- 
 
 VOL. I. Y 
 
338 HAMILTON CANED BY GREGORY. 
 
 tion it had been experiencing for some time in the 
 British medical journals. Under the latter head I 
 drew a statistical comparison between midwifery, the 
 only proposed new compulsory subject of study, and 
 medical jurisprudence, the conclusion being far from 
 favourable to the former. I knew well enough that I 
 should thus rouse a sleeping lion. Accordingly my 
 memorial drew a long printed criticism from Dr James 
 Hamilton, always an inflammable spirit, who, not con- 
 tent with crying up his own subject, did his utmost 
 to vilify mine, and even myself. I was highly pro- 
 voked by his overstepping the bounds of legitimate 
 argument, and at first meditated retaliation, as I 
 saw he had exposed his ignorance of medical jur- 
 isprudence, even when relative to his own branch 
 of physic. But I cooled, and refrained ; and I was 
 encouraged in this course by the approbation of my 
 senior colleagues. 
 
 Dr Hamdton's University conflicts in 1825 did not 
 all terminate so harmlessly as that with me. He had 
 always led a quarrelsome life. He had been in the 
 law courts with Dr Duncan, sen., for a row of which 
 I cannot recall either the subject or the originator. 
 Again, he had an encounter with Dr James Gregory, 
 a far more formidable foe, on account of some un- 
 guarded impertinence in print, for which Gregory 
 on the first suitable opportunity caned the little 
 doctor. Gregory had in consequence to defend an 
 action for battery and assault, lost the suit, and 
 was fined. Rumour said that when he paid his fine, 
 he offered to pay it over again for another chance 
 
HAMILTON AND HOPE. 339 
 
 of dusting the obstetrical jacket ; and Gregory's son 
 James told me lie believed the story was quite true. 
 I remember another curious dispute in which Hamil- 
 ton was involved — not medical however, and not of 
 his creating. His wife was objected to by the foolish 
 wife of a conceited Writer to the Signet, as member 
 of a set of subscription balls for the select of Edin- 
 burgh, on the ground that an accoucheur's spouse was 
 unfit company " to come between the wind and her 
 nobility." The respective husbands took up the 
 women's quarrel. There was for some time much 
 excitement in Edinburgh circles at dinner - tables, 
 across which was often pleaded, with great enjoy- 
 ment, the cause of "Howdie versus Alligator." 
 
 The disturbance in the senate-hall in 1825 involved 
 no less a man and fine gentleman than Dr Hope. 
 Hamilton, in one of his controversial pamphlets, had 
 been guilty of some rudeness to Hope, an old and per- 
 sistent enemy. Hope took notice of his rudeness at 
 one of our medical reform meetings. Carried away 
 by his warm temperament, Hope lost himself, and 
 warming up as he went on, at last said : " In short, 
 I may say, in the words of Samuel Johnson on a like 
 occasion, ' The fellow lies ; and he knows that he lies.' " 
 Kind friends of course informed Dr Hamilton, who 
 raised an action of defamation. After much conflict- 
 ing evidence on a question which apparently admitted 
 of but one answer, a jury found for the pursuer, but 
 with one farthing damages ; and each party had to 
 pay his own expenses. The public at large approved 
 the verdict and judgment in all respects. Hope 
 
340 Hamilton's pugnacity. 
 
 received from his friends a shower of epistolary con- 
 gratulations, enclosing the farthing ; and a story was 
 current that he sent Hamilton one of the farthings, 
 and asked for an acknowledgment. 
 
 My forbearance from pushing to extremity my 
 controversy with Dr Hamilton enabled us to meet 
 nine years later with comfort, if not with cordiality, 
 on University matters, when I became member of 
 the Medical Faculty, and its Dean. But we never 
 approached nearer one another. He was the one 
 professor who never became my private friend. It 
 is surprising that I did not even once meet him in 
 private society. I believe, indeed, his social inter- 
 course was mainly confined to a narrow circle of 
 stanch whist-players, who played most evenings to- 
 gether, and for considerable stakes. I have been also 
 assured by a competent judge that "Hamilton had 
 played whist all his life, but did not know the game." 
 
 Dr Hamilton was a short man, Little in figure in 
 all respects, very fair in complexion, plain in coun- 
 tenance, near-sighted, but always unspectacled. He 
 wore a light chestnut-brown unmistakable wig. Short 
 as he was, he stooped a little, and seemed as if con- 
 stantly looking at his toes as he advanced with a 
 quick, short, noiseless step. His pugnacity was as- 
 tonishing. Every one who differed with him as to 
 professional opinion or practice, in print or as a lec- 
 turer, met with in him an uncompromising foe, open 
 but unsparing, and too often contemptuous. I have 
 already said how he failed to draw my own respect 
 because he perpetually introduced scolding criticism 
 
HE FOUNDS THE LYING-IN HOSPITAL. 341 
 
 into his lectures ; and I have known not a few of 
 his pupils who in after-life did not look back upon 
 him, for the same reason, with the regard usually 
 felt by a medical student for his university teachers. 
 He is not the only instance in my observation of a 
 man in a high professional position having fallen into 
 the same failing. I have thought at times that I saw 
 the reason of this error, and could ascertain distinctly 
 on one occasion its actual existence. A professional 
 man, who is also a professor, earnest and enthusiastic, 
 who has earned for himself high authority, and thus 
 stands out conspicuous in the public eye, may be apt 
 to think his position imposes on him the duty of 
 denouncing all dangerous errors, and he comes to 
 regard all departure from his own views and prac- 
 tice as coming under that category ; and unluckily 
 he who speaks ex cathedra, without risk of imme- 
 diate reply, is apt to be hurried along by his zeal into 
 language too personal for simple argument. Was Dr 
 Hamilton one of these ? I know not ; for I never 
 had such personal acquaintance with him as to know. 
 It may seem that I am too hard on Dr Hamilton, 
 and that I saw in him nothing but what was to be con- 
 demned. But I must guard myself against such mis- 
 construction. Apart from his quarrelsomeness and 
 its results, there was much to approve and little to 
 blame in his character. He was a humane man. 
 He founded the " Lying-in Hospital," now the Ma- 
 ternity Hospital, for the relief of the poor and the 
 instruction of his students ; and he supported it for 
 many years partly with his own means. He pos- 
 
342 HAMILTON AS EXAMINER. 
 
 sessed that wonderful sway over his patients which 
 could have a firm foundation only in a kindly dis- 
 position and manner. He would not yield to the 
 exactions of the great. He refused to attend in 
 labour ladies of fashion dwelling at their country- 
 seats. He went out of town on consultations like 
 other physicians, but he would not dance attend- 
 ance on great ladies expecting confinement in the 
 country. For that purpose he " would not go off 
 the stones. They must come to him, — he would not 
 for their sakes leave their town sisters all the while 
 to shift for themselves." Before midwifery was made 
 imperative for graduation, he taught crowded classes 
 of students during a three months' course three times 
 a-year; and his hospital was designed in part to 
 afford them the opportunity of practical instruction. 
 As an examiner in the Medical Faculty, he often was 
 conjoined with me. Thus I had good occasion to 
 admire his clearness, and above all his kindly manner 
 with the candidates, his patience, and his mildness in 
 judgment upon their performance. For a man of his 
 intolerance of heresy from his own doctrines, he had 
 often a bitter pill to swallow when examining a can- 
 didate who had been taught midwifery at another 
 school ; but even in such circumstances his leni- 
 ency was marvellous. I remember especially one 
 occasion when he had in hand an Irish candidate 
 who had got his midwifery in Dublin, where the 
 teachers were, in Hamilton's opinion, heterodox 
 throughout, and were the frequent objects of his pro- 
 fessorial lash. The unlucky victim ran counter to the 
 
A GOOD RESOLVE. 343 
 
 Hamiltonian creed in all his answers, and was too 
 stolid to yield one inch to his examiner's argumenta- 
 tive interrogatories. I accounted him a doomed man. 
 But when Hamilton and I came to consult together, 
 he said : " You have heard him. Did you ever hear 
 such ignorance ? But he got on very well with you, 
 and I see from his paper that he has done well with 
 our colleagues. I know he answers correctly as he 
 has been taught at Dublin by a set of idiots. How 
 can I punish him for their fault? I must let him 
 pass. But as for trusting him with the delivery of a 
 woman, I would not trust him to deliver a cat ! " 
 
 One word more in passing as to my forbearance 
 from controversial print. A few years later I fell 
 into the mistake of indulging in that weakness, when 
 the late Dr Macintosh made an attack, full of igno- 
 rance and rashness, upon my commentaries on his 
 evidence in a trial for poisoning. But I resolved to 
 hold my hand ever afterwards in the like circum- 
 stances ; and I have steadily followed that rule, to 
 my own great comfort, although on one occasion I 
 was sorely tempted to transgress for the second time. 
 As Dean of the Medical Faculty, I had to defend the 
 chair of Chemistry before the Town Council against a 
 dangerous attempt by the late Dr Boswell Reid to 
 get the Council to found a professorship of Practical 
 Chemistry in his favour. The teaching of practical 
 chemistry in the University was first undertaken, 
 with the sanction of Dr Hope, by his assistant, Dr 
 Anderson. Reid succeeded Anderson in office, and 
 taught with zeal and success. His teaching was too 
 
344 the laird's advice. 
 
 much, however, in the recruit drill-sergeant fashion 
 for my taste — " With your left seize your retorts. 
 Unplug your stoppers. Handle your acid bottles. 
 Pour in your acid," &c. Such, as described to me, 
 was the style of instruction to rows of students, all 
 similarly armed, and obeying simultaneously. I 
 found my clinical clerks in the Infirmary came out 
 of his hands ignorant of the simplest manipulations 
 in practical medico-chemistry. But he had the skill 
 to put his teaching in a popular form, attracted 
 crowded classes, and got a name as chemist with the 
 multitude, although I am not aware that he ever 
 added a single fact to the science he constantly pur- 
 sued. Intoxicated with success, he ventured on a 
 bold step. Dr Hope had granted him full liberty of 
 action, and, as I was given to understand, a liberal 
 pecuniary arrangement. It may be imagined how 
 astonished and wroth was the professor, when his 
 assistant tried to trip up his heels, and damage the 
 chair of Systematic Chemistry by detaching from it 
 the practical department. Reid failed, and my 
 arguments had a good deal to do with his defeat. 
 Soon after, when I was running about, free from all 
 University and other cares, among the woods and on 
 the moors of Dalswinton, my host, Mr Leny, coming 
 down-stairs one morning, saluted me with, — " Doctor, 
 have you seen the ' Scotsman ' ? " " Yes." " And Dr 
 Boswell Reid's letter against you ? " " Yes." " Can 
 you answer him ? " " Yes, and demolish him." 
 " Then, my dear Doctor, don't." " I do not mean to 
 do so." " Quite right. The result of my observation 
 
PROFESSOR BLACKIE. 345 
 
 in life has been, that in such circumstances many a 
 man has repented of acting, but d 1 a soul of for- 
 bearing." My principles were thus fortified by the 
 opinion of a very good judge and warm-hearted friend; 
 but at the same time, I scarcely think my impetuous 
 and high-tempered adviser would have taken his own 
 advice had he been in my place. Many a time have 
 I told this story to my younger friends, who had been 
 tackled as I was by Eeid, and have assured them of 
 the comfort there is in following such a rule — not to 
 mention the positive gain in precious time otherwise 
 misapplied. I am sorry that some of them in the 
 Senatus Academicus, far from following my example, 
 seem never content except when fighting in news- 
 paper print. To them, were I an autocratical Uni- 
 versity Eector, I should be disposed to apply the 
 jocular recommendation of Lord Brougham to the 
 Council of the University of London, of which he 
 was chief founder, that, for the sake of peace within 
 its walls, the ]>rofessors should be forbidden to print 
 anything short of an octavo of 300 pages. I would 
 make an exception of Professor Blackie, whose en-ea 
 TTTepoevTa are always amusing, often instructive, gen- 
 erally in the right, and never offensive. 
 
346 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 A PEDESTRIAN TOUR. 
 
 UNEXAMPLED DROUGHT AND HEAT IN 1826, FROM MARCH TILL 
 
 AUTUMN EDINBURGH FASHIONS CHANGED THEREBY THE 
 
 CROPS VERY EARLY THE SEVERE FROST OF 1813-14 MOUN- 
 TAIN RAMBLE WITH DR E. TURNER ASCENT OF BEN LOMOND 
 
 FOILED BY THE MIST THE TROSSACHS INN HOW TO SOUND 
 
 A POOL A REFRESHING SWIM GLEN OGLE TO KILLIN ASCENT 
 
 OF BEN LAWERS THE FATHOMLESS POOL AT MONESS DUN- 
 
 KELD — -A GUIDE TACKLED UPHILL PERTH. 
 
 I must now fall back again to the year 1826. The 
 spring and summer seasons of that year were re- 
 markable for the extraordinary drought and heat 
 which prevailed for many continuous months. No 
 such seasons could be recollected by anybody, and 
 assuredly there has been nothing similar in this 
 country since. I have never seen any meteorological 
 history of that unexampled year, but I can recollect 
 many incidents illustrative of its general character. 
 The fine weather set in with the beginning of March, 
 and continued, with scarcely a check, well into the 
 autumn. I remember well that on the 6th of March, 
 while on a visit to Ivirknewton manse, ten miles west 
 
CHANGE OF FASHION IN 1826. 347 
 
 from Edinburgh, I made one of a party of ladies and 
 gentlemen who took a walk through the woods of 
 Almondell, the seat of the Earl of Buchan, and who, 
 in consequence of missing the right path, had to allow 
 the ladies a rest on the way home. We sat down on a 
 grassy bank for the purpose, and rested there in great 
 comfort for an hour. From that single incident it 
 it is evident how warm the weather then was, and 
 that the drought had begun many days earlier. 
 There was no back-cast of weather in the rest of the 
 spring, as is too often the case in ordinary years ; and 
 the drought prevailed and the heat increased till the 
 middle of June, when a thunderstorm with heavy 
 rain cooled the air for a day or two. But the heat 
 then became greater than ever, and there was con- 
 tinuous sunshine and no rain till after the middle of 
 July, when again there was thunder and rain, after 
 which sun, heat, and drought ruled the season once 
 more. In the middle of July, while engaged in study- 
 ing practically the rules for exact thermometric obser- 
 vation of atmospheric temperatures, I found that my 
 thermometer marked 84° Fahr. in the shade on three 
 successive days at 3 p.m. 
 
 This weather, so different from what we had been 
 accustomed to in Scotland, effected in some measure 
 a change in the habits of the population of the city. 
 The junior members of the male sex forsook the thick 
 oppressive neckcloths of the time for a Byron collar 
 and a narrow silk ribbon, with a gold ring run upon 
 its ends — a fashion which I introduced for the first 
 time into the Senatus Academicus, to the high disap- 
 
348 RESULTS OF THE DROUGHT. 
 
 probation of our ancient arbiter elegantiarum, Dr 
 Hope. Few people, whom business did not call forth, 
 ventured out till sunset, when all promenades in and 
 around town were crowded with gay throngs. Sea- 
 bathing became an indispensable luxury. Edward 
 Turner, at that time my alter ego, went with me al- 
 most daily to Trinity for a swim in the Firth of 
 Forth, then so warm that we could remain an hour 
 in the water. The Parliament House lawyers char- 
 tered dady all the hackney-coaches of the city, and 
 started in fours at two or three o'clock for Portobello, 
 Leith, Newhaven, Trinity, or Granton, to cool their 
 overheated and dusty bodies. A single exception was 
 Mr R. Fors} T th, a tall, bony, rather elderly, censorious 
 advocate, who preferred for exercise to drive five or • 
 six miles into the country outside one of the stage- 
 coaches, and walk back to town again. One fore- 
 noon he asked David Syme, brother of the professor, 
 to join him ; but he declined, because engaged with 
 three others to drive dady to Newhaven to bathe. 
 "What!" said Forsyth, "are you one of the dirty 
 beasts that need to wash themselves every day ? " 
 
 So great was the heat and so continual the sun- 
 shine during the summer, that all the white crops 
 round Edinburgh were in the farmyard before the 1st 
 of August. The grain everywhere was good, but the 
 straw very deficient, especially in such districts as 
 those in Dumfriesshire, where the sod is gravelly and 
 stony, and the rain in ordinary years rather super- 
 abundant. Some years afterwards, Mr Leny of Dal- 
 swinton, in Lower Nithsdale, told me that he had to 
 
WINTER OF 1813-14. 349 
 
 remit nearly a third of his rental, and that some of his 
 hill-tenants had nothing at all with which to pay him. 
 On his home-farm a field of wheat was reaped with 
 scissors, the stems being too short for the sickle. The 
 extensive grass-parks round the house were so burnt up 
 to the very roots, that large patches of uncovered soil 
 were seen for several years afterwards, and complete 
 recovery did not take place till the tenth season. I 
 learned also that great distress was occasioned among 
 cattle on many farms in Berwickshire by the drying up 
 of springs and rills which were never known to have 
 failed before ; and I was assured that one farmer had 
 to drive water for his cattle nine miles from the river 
 Whitadder. 
 
 No astronomer has yet been able to inform me what 
 relation was borne by this extraordinary year to 
 the degree of the sun's bespottedness ; and no be- 
 liever in . cycles of changes can guess what is the 
 cycle for the return of such a spring and summer 
 as in 1826. If it exists, there is already proof that 
 the period of revolution must exceed fifty years ! 
 Still longer must be the cyclar period for the return 
 of the protracted hard winter of 1813-14, when severe 
 frost lasted for two months, and, after four days of 
 fresh weather, for two months more. When at last 
 the ice broke up on Duddingston Loch, I measured it, 
 and found it to be 11 inches thick. During the long 
 frost the loch was daily frequented by crowds of 
 skaters, curlers, and fashionable promenaders, and on 
 Saturdays two military bands were in attendance. 
 Snow frequently fell, but almost entirely during the 
 
350 ASCENT OF BEN LOMOND. 
 
 night ; and it was regularly swept up in the morning 
 into heaps scattered over the ice. These ere long 
 became extensive mounds higher than one's head, so 
 that the loch was laid out in irregular streets and 
 squares, among which it was not an easy matter to 
 find a party after being once separated from them. 
 Duddingston has never been so gay a scene as in 
 the winter of 1813-14. 
 
 In August of this year (1826), for the first time 
 since 1817, I indulged my fondness for mountain 
 rambling in a short pedestrian tour in the near High- 
 lands with Dr Edward Turner. 
 
 We went to Glasgow by coach, thence by steam on 
 the Clyde to Dumbarton, and there commenced our 
 foot -journey next forenoon with a march to Loch 
 Lomond and Eowardennan. We were nearly stopped 
 short, however, on the wrong side of the loch, at the 
 innless village of Lower Inveruglas ; for the ferry- 
 man, in absence of his mate, professed himself un- 
 able to row us across to Rowardennan Inn, right 
 opposite. Luckily we were both of us pretty strong 
 oarsmen, and he was satisfied to have us for a crew. 
 Before we got far over we found the reason for his 
 hesitation was, that his boat leaked so badly that a 
 single rower could scarcely have taken his passen- 
 gers across before it became water-logged. 
 
 On the second morning it was our intention to 
 climb Ben Lomond, and descend, as in 1816, by the 
 north-east face to Aberfoyle — a five-hours' journey; 
 and our innkeeper having assured us that a dense 
 
IN THE MIST. 351 
 
 cloud which capped the summit would probably dis- 
 perse before we should reach it, we started with good 
 hopes, aud without a guide, in a fine, clear, sunshiny 
 forenoon. On approaching the ridge of the long 
 southerly spur separating Loch Lomond valley from 
 that of Loch Ard and Aberfoyle, at that part where 
 the spur leaves the final pyramidal peak of 700 feet, 
 the mist seemed to be creeping downwards. We 
 therefore made a rush to the crest of the ridge, 
 that I might refresh my recollection of the way down 
 to Aberfoyle before the mist should envelop us. We 
 then sat down for an hour at the verge of the mist, 
 in very doubtful reliance on our innkeeper's forecast, 
 sometimes admiring the perfectly flat ceiling of cloud, 
 which, sharply defined, seemed to extend for miles 
 eastward from a few feet above the level of our 
 eyes, and sometimes scanning beneath this screen 
 the clear definition of all the lovely islands and shores 
 of the lower reaches of Loch Lomond. At length our 
 patience gave way ; but Turner protesting that he 
 dared not show face in society without reaching the 
 top after being so near it, I undertook to conduct 
 him thither through the mist. As we ascended the 
 mist grew denser and darker, and at last presented 
 an appearance as if a black lofty precipice loomed 
 from behind it to stop the way. Turner then de- 
 clared he had enough, and that we ought to return. 
 We had done fully half the remaining ascent, and had 
 not above 300 feet more to climb. But Turner's 
 decision was very welcome, for I had ceased to have 
 perfect confidence in finding the way back again. 
 
352 RULE FOR MOUNTAIN DESCENT. 
 
 The moment we commenced our retreat, we had 
 a convincing illustration of the danger of mist on a 
 mountain abounding in precipices. For Turner at 
 once proceeded to descend at right angles to what 
 had been our course upwards. I called to him that 
 he was going down straight westward upon Loch 
 Lomond. At first he would not believe me. I stood 
 fast, however, and bid him go on till I should call to 
 him to halt. I was surprised to see him begin to 
 vanish when scarcely fifty feet off. I then shouted 
 to him to stop, and say what he thought. On his 
 replying that he did not know what to think, I told 
 him to come back, and rule me in Hke manner. He 
 did so ; and taking a different direction, I was able 
 to call out, "All right! come on!" Twice again 
 he acted thus as rear - guard ; and then we were 
 confident of our course. In point of fact, I had, 
 in our ascent through the mist, kept as near as 
 I prudently could to the edge of the northern pre- 
 cipice, in order to take it for my guidance down 
 again — which I accordingly did. Yet that is not 
 altogether a safe rule for one unaccustomed to mist 
 on a mountain -top. For in descending, even on 
 green turf, much more upon bare rock, in such a 
 place, the tourist is apt to be misled by a tongue 
 leading into the face of the veiled precipice, and there 
 gradually contracting, and coming to an end. We 
 met with no such misadventure, but soon got out of 
 the cloud into clear air and bright sunshine ; rapidly 
 descended a long, steep, grassy slope to the head of 
 Loch Ard ; walked swiftty along the smooth level road 
 
ABERFOYLE. 353 
 
 close to the edge of this most beautiful lake ; and 
 reached Aberfoyle in good time and good luck. The 
 inn possessed only two spare rooms for customers : 
 one was occupied permanently by a sportsman as his 
 shooting - quarters ; and we two got the other, a 
 double-bedded room. But, after we were asleep, 
 there arrived by post-chaise from Eowardennan a 
 touring-party, consisting of an East India civilian, 
 his wife, son, and man - servant, who had spent 
 a long day in rounding the southern spur of Ben 
 Lomond which we had crossed, and, by a circui- 
 tous, rugged, hilly road of at least twenty -five 
 miles, had reached Aberfoyle benighted. On my 
 rising in the morning, I learnt that the son and man- 
 servant had slept comfortably in the hay-loft, and 
 the civilian and his lady uncomfortably at the inn- 
 door in the carriage, in which I descried the lady 
 finishing her toilet. We had made acquaintance 
 with the party before starting from Eowardennan ; 
 renewed and improved it at Aberfoyle, with much 
 merriment over our luck to have been asleep before 
 their arrival, which might otherwise have imposed a 
 severe self - sacrifice on two tired pedestrians ; and 
 agreed to meet in the evening at dinner at the 
 Trossachs. 
 
 But Turner and I had to make only a short cut 
 of seven miles over the intervening hills, while 
 our new friends had to post twenty - seven miles 
 of circuitous hilly road by way of Callander, where 
 they failed to get horses till the subsequent day. 
 As we more movable tourists approached the Tros- 
 
 VOL. I. Z 
 
354 TROSSACHS HOTEL. 
 
 sacks, the weather became hazy, rain began to fall, 
 and soon the whole country was shrouded in mist. 
 We found our way, nevertheless, to Loch Katrine, 
 but saw nothing beyond fiftj' yards round us through 
 very dense mist. We arrived at our inn much cha- 
 grined ; and as the rain now fell in torrents, we had 
 to keep within doors all the evening. 
 
 The Trossachs inn was, in 1826, a very different cara- 
 vansary from " Stewart's house " of Ardchianacrochan 
 in the year 1816. The scenery of the 'Lady of the 
 Lake ' kad been for a few years visited by increasing 
 crowds of tourists ; and tke sohtary farmhouse had 
 been replaced by " The Trossachs Hotel," capable of 
 accommodating thirty-seven sleepers, provided the 
 several parties were content to break up into quar- 
 tette of males and females in barrack-rooms, each 
 furnished with four beds. Our barrack, in an attic, 
 was occupied by an attache of tke Austrian embassy, 
 old Bisk tke once famous lottery-contractor, Turner, 
 and myself. Bisk was fast asleep when we took 
 possession of our quarters. Tke Austrian, a very 
 near-sigkted man, having taken off his spectacles, was 
 on the point of turning in beside Bish, when we called 
 out to him that there was a gentleman already in that 
 bed. " Where is he ? I do not see him ! " replied 
 he, with his mouth close to the sleeper's ear, but 
 without awaking kirn. He managed to see kini at 
 last, kowever, and repaired to the empty bed ; and 
 next morning we discovered that the cause of Bish's 
 imperturbable quiet was that he was as deaf as a 
 post. In the middle of the night I awoke witk a 
 
SOUNDING A POOL. 355 
 
 bright star shining on me through a skylight window. 
 So I got up, and, rousing Turner, we gazed admir- 
 ingly on a glorious, clear, starlit heaven, the harbin- 
 ger, after heavy rain, of fine weather. We thereupon 
 at once agreed to abandon our intention of hurry- 
 ing on to Callander, and to pass the day on Loch 
 Katrine. We therefore chartered a boat, and spent 
 a charming forenoon in rowing from place to place, 
 and climbing various ascents, in search of new points 
 of view. At starting we soon overtook a four-oared 
 boat which contained our Austrian and his country- 
 man, each pulling at his own time, and in his own 
 fashion, and evidently provoked that we should pass 
 them so easily, and that their most furious efforts 
 only made their case worse. 
 
 We hired a gig the same evening to Callander, and 
 visited the Falls of Bracklin, where we made a 
 somewhat interesting observation. At the lowest 
 and principal fall the Bracklin breaks through a 
 rocky wall into a fine pool, open down-stream and 
 easily accessible. Owing to long drought the water 
 had not been coloured by a flood for some weeks, so 
 that the stream must have conveyed nothing but the 
 water of springs. Accordingly we were struck by 
 observing the distinctness of the stones at the bottom 
 of the pool, and resolved to ascertain the depth, 
 which was evidently considerable. A tall vigorous 
 brier-shoot, fourteen feet long, supplied the measure. 
 Stripping off the luxuriant leaves except at the sum- 
 mit, and tying a big stone to the other end, I swung 
 the brier into the middle of the pool. It sank en- 
 
356 A SHARP PACE. 
 
 tirely, with at least two feet of water over its leafy 
 top ; nevertheless we could quite easily trace the 
 stem to the bottom, and distinguish the stone at- 
 tached to it. This extreme degree of transparency 
 is very rare in Scottish rivers and lakes. The water 
 of the Highland lakes is usually called very trans- 
 parent ; but I have found that in Loch Earn, Loch 
 Lomond, and Loch Katrine, a bright white disc of 
 porcelain cannot be discerned at a greater depth than 
 eighteen feet. 
 
 Next forenoon we again shouldered our knapsacks 
 for Lochearnhead. For a long distance we scrambled 
 up the edge of the impetuous stream which descends 
 in a deep gorge from Loch Lubnaig ; then regaining 
 the road, we took up a sharp four- and-a-half- mile 
 pace, in order to follow the prudent pedestrian rule of 
 reaching evening quarters an hour before the crowds 
 of ordinary tourists who arrive late in their chariots. 
 Presently we swung past five pedestrians resting at 
 the roadside, who instantly began to bundle up their 
 kits, with the evident intention of contesting the 
 first claim for beds at Lochearnhead inn. This was 
 hard, because the inn was ten miles off, and the 
 weather was intensely hot ; but being in good con- 
 dition, we gradually even improved our pace, soon 
 shot ahead of our rivals, and kept up our speed to 
 the end. After securing beds and ordering dinner, 
 we rushed to the lake, and in defiance of ordinary 
 prejudices plunged hissing hot overhead into a pool 
 for a short swim. This measure is most effectual 
 for preventing the dry feverish heat which is apt to 
 
ROCKS IN GLEN OGLE. 357 
 
 ensue during the evening after a long hot forenoon 
 walk and a good dinner. Nor is there any risk, if 
 the bath be taken before resting and cooling — the 
 hotter one is, indeed, the better — and provided it 
 be very short, especially when preceded by fatigue. 
 While we were dining, an hour and a half after 
 our arrival, our competitors came up to the inn door 
 ignominiously in a cart, and received the unwel- 
 come information that there was not a hole or corner 
 left to put them into, and that they had no alter- 
 native but to proceed eleven miles farther on to 
 Killin. 
 
 Thither we followed next morning, hiring a gig 
 through Glen Ogle, in order to carry out an intention 
 of ascending Ben Lawers the same forenoon. Not 
 far from the summit-level of the road in ascending 
 from Lochearnhead, on the left slope looking north- 
 ward, there is well seen from the road opposite a 
 long and broad line of broken rocks, many of them 
 of great size, piled on one another in vast confusion, 
 and without a precipice above adequate to have fur- 
 nished them by gradual decay. It would appear that 
 this accumulation of ruins must have arisen from the 
 destruction and descent of an entire cliff, shattered 
 and annihilated at once by some sudden catastrophe ; 
 and such is the local explanation, for the fall is said 
 to have occurred on the occasion of the great earth- 
 quake of Lisbon in 1755. This cataract of rocks is 
 now well seen from the railway, which, in ascend- 
 ing from Lochearnhead, crosses the middle of it 
 among its largest and most tumbled masses. One 
 
358 ASCEND BEN LAWEKS. 
 
 huge block, I think dangerously, overhangs the rail- 
 way. 
 
 After breakfast at Killin we made an early start 
 for Kenmore. A few miles on we quitted the road 
 for the hillside, and took a slanting course up the 
 concave southern face of Ben Lawers. On reaching 
 the west base of the terminal dome, we wound 
 round to the north face, to enjoy the cool north- 
 west zephyr. Here Turner, though fresh from the 
 Alps, where he had several times ascended much 
 greater heights without inconvenience, began to suffer 
 so severely from the mal des montagnes that we had 
 to pause for a few seconds every twenty or thirty 
 steps, in climbing the last rather steep 300 feet. 
 At the summit we climbed the ten-foot Ordnance 
 Survey cairn, and upon the top of it stood on tiptoe, 
 with the satisfaction of thinking that our eyes were 
 looking out from the height of 4000 feet (3984 + 
 10 + 6) above the sea-level. We descended very 
 rapidly down the eastern spur of the mountain, 
 cooled ourselves with a plunge into Loch Tay on 
 reaching the highway again, and arrived at Ken- 
 more inn in good condition. 
 
 Next day we walked down Strath Tay to Logierait, 
 through a very lovely country. At Aberfeldy we 
 went aside up a steep, narrow, finely wooded ravine, 
 to visit the Falls of Moness ; and we took a guide, so 
 as to miss nothing and lose no time. The water was 
 very low from long drought ; consequently, in going 
 up the ravine we could find no pool for our daily 
 swim. At last we were tempted by the deep nar- 
 
NO SOUNDINGS. 359 
 
 row pool into which the upper and principal fall 
 tumbles, — black - looking and forbidding at most 
 periods of the day, from being closely overhung by 
 precipices, but lighted up at the right moment for us 
 by the sun darting its rays down over the verge of 
 the fall. Our guide objected, because " naebody had 
 ever fund a bottom in that hole." Nevertheless in we 
 went, to his great surprise ; and I surprised him still 
 more by making him tie together two long twigs of 
 mountain-ash, and satisfying him that his bottomless 
 pit was nowhere more than 16 feet deep. (I found a 
 few years ago that the "Trooper's Loup" in Glen Veich, 
 at Loch Earn, falls down a narrow, perpendicular, 
 semi-cylindrical chimney, into a roundish basin about 
 16 feet wide and 26 feet in depth. The deepest river- 
 pool hitherto sounded by me is one of 42 feet in the 
 Findhorn, at the Bridge of Daltulich.) At Logierait 
 we could get no refreshment save the cold remains 
 of a singed sheep's-head ; and as that did not suit 
 my English companion's culinary prepossessions, we 
 pushed on to Dunkeld. 
 
 On the following day we visited the chief sights of 
 this magnificent district, and ended the day's work 
 with a long walk through the extensive surrounding 
 grounds and forest. Our guide — for here tourists 
 had to submit to have a guide within the ducal de- 
 mesne — asked whether we chose "the long or short 
 course ? " 
 
 " The long one, to be sure." 
 
 " It's sixteen miles." 
 
 " Very good." 
 
360 DONALD TACKLED. 
 
 " And two high hills to climb." 
 
 "All right — up we go," 
 
 " Then we maun be stappin' oot." 
 
 At the word the long, lanky Highlander stepped 
 out at a four-and-a-half-mile pace. When we began 
 to ascend the first hill, Craig- Vinean, said to be 
 1000 feet above the valley, it was plain he meant 
 to push us and try our mettle up an interminable 
 zigzag footpath. Turner was not in good condition. 
 It was agreed, therefore, that I should tackle Donald, 
 which I did by sticking close to him, and keeping 
 him constantly talking. The rascal, without a mo- 
 ment's halt, moved steadily on to the top — which, 
 however, he reached completely blown, and no doubt 
 much surprised that I, far from fresh certainly, was 
 nevertheless comparatively sound. He did not dis- 
 cover the trick ; and when we came to the next long- 
 ascent of Craig-y-Barns, he was content to take it at 
 leisure. 
 
 We drove the next forenoon to Perth ; and after 
 visiting the principal places of interest in its neigh- 
 bourhood, took the mail - coach in the evening, — 
 Turner for Edinburgh, and I to join some friends 
 at Bridge of Allan. Thus ended a most agreeable 
 little trip. Turner was the most congenial com- 
 panion I ever had, not only for intelligence, but 
 also for pluck, contentedness, and above all for the 
 facility with which he deviated from a prearranged 
 route under unforeseen temptation. 
 
361 
 
 CHAP TEE XIX. 
 
 PROFESSIONAL HISTORY. 
 
 APPOINTED PHYSICIAN TO THE ROYAL INFIRMARY IN 1827 AIM TO 
 
 BE CONSULTING PHYSICIAN DR BUCHAN TWO PHYSICIANS 
 
 SUCCEED DR JAMES HAMILTON NUMBER RAISED TO THREE ON 
 
 DR CULLEN'S DEATH DR SHORT MARRIAGE AT KIRKNEWTON 
 
 IN 1827 A WEEK'S VISIT TO GLASGOW ANECDOTES OP DR 
 
 THOMAS THOMSON RETURN TO THE FAMILY CIRCLE. 
 
 In 1827 a new bent was given to my faculties and 
 plans for the future by my being appointed one of 
 the physicians of the Royal Infirmary. My professor- 
 ship did not seem likely to place me in a favourable 
 position in point of income. I had to keep in view, 
 therefore, the chance of medical practice. For that 
 end it behoved me to maintain familiarity with it ; 
 and evidently nothing could so thoroughly secure that 
 object, and lead to the chance of my becoming con- 
 sulting physician, without beginning as a general 
 practitioner, as the medical charge of the wards of 
 a hospital. 
 
 I was not then entitled to take part in the Univer- 
 sity system of clinical instruction by virtue of my 
 
362 DR BUCHAN. 
 
 professorship. The chair was not promoted to that 
 position, and to a place in the Medical Faculty, till 
 1833. But I had been for a year or two a physician 
 of the Eoyal Public Dispensary, to which I was 
 appointed through the influence of its benevolent 
 founder, Dr Duncan, senior. I had been too long 
 trained, however, to the precise and facile observa- 
 tion of hospital practice, not to tire very soon of the 
 jejune weekly consultation -sittings, and the loose 
 observation inseparable from the policlinical visits of 
 the dispensary. My hospital post was therefore both 
 great gain and great relief, and I resigned at once 
 my dispensary office ; but I did not succeed to the 
 other without a hitch. 
 
 Dr James Hamilton, senior, had resigned his place 
 as Infirmary physician two years previously, and 
 was succeeded by Dr James Buchan, a retired " Phy- 
 sician to the Forces," who had deservedly gained 
 much credit for bavins; volunteered to take charge 
 of the French Plague Hospital, when Napoleon for- 
 sook his Egyptian army. Buchan had made a collec- 
 tion of documents connected with his service, under 
 the intention of subsequently publishing his experi- 
 ence of the plague. But on his voyage home the 
 vessel in which he safled was destroyed by fire in 
 the Mediterranean, and all his papers were lost. 
 
 Dr Buchan was now a little, fair-complexioned, near- 
 sighted, soft-speaking, quiet, slow, hesitating man, 
 several years on the wrong side of fifty, without hav- 
 ing given any sign of special medical knowledge, or 
 of any other professional prominence, save the one 
 
CULLEN A EIVAL. 363 
 
 courageous deed of his early life. But through some 
 incomprehensible mistake, the Infirmary managers, 
 twelve men of great intelligence and high considera- 
 tion in the city, were brought to regard him as fittest 
 for the appointment, though such men as Drs Home 
 and Duncan, jun., were also candidates. Whatever 
 might have been Buchan's object in desiring it — pro- 
 bably the hope of filling his predecessor's place also 
 as a consulting physician in town — he must have 
 been soon undeceived, for in two years he resigned. 
 I applied to be his successor, but met with a for- 
 midable rival in my old companion Cullen. It had 
 hitherto been a condition that every physician of 
 the Infirmary should be a Fellow of the College of 
 Physicians, and Cullen was only a Fellow of the 
 Surgical College. This obstacle was in some degree 
 lowered by his becoming, in passage to the Fellow- 
 ship, Licentiate of the College of Physicians, which 
 position he could claim at once as an Edinburgh 
 graduate. But there remained the obstruction of 
 my pretensions to the office, which was not so 
 easily disposed of. I was Fellow of the necessary 
 College ; I was senior graduate by five years, as 
 Cullen was late in taking his degree ; and, as pro- 
 fessor, I was ahead in public position. But one 
 member of the Board of Management was his trustee ; 
 another was his father-in-law ; a third was his father- 
 in-law's partner in business ; and Cullen himself was, 
 through his mother, one of the powerful Edinburgh 
 clan of the Hopes, at the head of whom stood the 
 chairman, Lord President Hope of the Court of Ses- 
 
364 DR SHORT. 
 
 sion ! Nevertheless, these men were too wise to be 
 ignorant that they could not pass me over. So they 
 settled the difficulty by appointing both of us. 
 
 This easy way of evading a difficulty so gratified 
 them, indeed, that they applied it a second time soon 
 afterwards, when a vacancy arose from the premature 
 death of Cullen. James Gregory, second son of our 
 famous Professor of the Practice of Physic, a young 
 man of sterling talent and high promise, and a univer- 
 sal favourite, seemed the natural successor of Cullen, 
 grand-nephew of the great professor of the same chair. 
 But the managers were again unaccountably bewitched 
 by another retired Physician to the Forces, Dr Thomas 
 Short. His only ostensible title to fame was his 
 official presence at the dissection and embalming of 
 the body of Napoleon at St Helena — together with 
 a certain likeness in features to the mighty con- 
 queror, and a great resemblance to him in figure 
 and attitudinising. He had strong interest in some 
 way, however, with a powerful member of the Board 
 of Twelve ; and thus it fell out that, as the managers 
 would not pass by so popular a man and name as 
 Gregory, they resolved that such duty as Dr Hamil- 
 ton did to their entire satisfaction a few years before 
 singly, and such a post as Dr Spens stdl continued to 
 fill singly with efficiency, required now the services 
 of three physicians, in order that Dr Short might be 
 one of them. 
 
 Through this success, his handsome physique, a 
 pretentious voice and manner, and the thrusting of 
 him on the patient public by Dr James Hamilton, 
 
MAEEIAGE. 365 
 
 jun., it was thought by some that Short might float 
 into consulting practice in Edinburgh. For a twelve- 
 month indeed he swam ; but he sank soon, and utterly. 
 It was surely a prodigious mistake on the part of his 
 friends to imagine, that a man of no prominent pro- 
 fessional merit should oust men of such talent and 
 acquirements as Abercrombie and Thomson, already 
 in firm possession of the field, or outstrip the quickly 
 rising reputation and popularity of Alison and 
 Davidson. 
 
 I had not long entered on my office as Ordinary 
 Physician of the Infirmary before I had ample 
 occasion to make use of my new opportunities. For 
 in 1827 the second Edinburgh epidemic fever had 
 already set in ; and I took a principal share in the 
 treatment of it from first to last. 
 
 In the gloomy month of November of this year 
 (1827), and in weather suitable to the season, took 
 place my marriage, in the manse of Kirknewton, in 
 presence of about a dozen friends, Dr Simpson officiat- 
 ing, and Dr Turner acting the part of my right-hand 
 man. It was not yet the day of nuptial dejeuners, 
 which appear to me alike bad in point of taste and for 
 sound digestion. We set off at once for Hamilton, 
 which I chose for our first resting-place, thinking that 
 a ducal burgh would not be without a suitable hotel. 
 But we met with indifferent accommodation, and 
 rather Lenten entertainment. So next forenoon we 
 went on to Glasgow, to bury ourselves in the turmoil 
 of the already overgrown capital of the west, where 
 
366 DE THOMAS THOMSON. 
 
 we found excellent quarters in the Eoyal Hotel, George 
 Square. We then called by arrangement on much- 
 esteemed friends of my famdy — Dr Thomson and his 
 lady — by whom we were quite overwhelmed with kind 
 attention. Thomson, a hard student, and devoted to 
 study, actually himself escorted us to the principal 
 sights of the town ; but the greatest curiosity we saw 
 in Glasgow was Thomson himself. 
 
 Few men at that time in Scotland were so accom- 
 plished as Dr Thomas Thomson. He was a good clas- 
 sical scholar and mathematician, a thorough geologist, 
 a learned chemist, and, moreover, a theologian — for 
 when he graduated at Edinburgh in 1799, he also 
 became a licentiate of the Church of Scotland. He 
 had conducted in London the ' Annals of Philosophy ' 
 for several years with great success, the foremost Eng- 
 hsh scientific journal of the day, till he was appointed 
 Professor of Chemistry in the University of Glasgow, 
 in 1818. In this office, which he held till 1852, his 
 labours were incessant, both in instructing the ordi- 
 nary University students, and also in training young 
 chemists practically for the manufactures. He was 
 a very little, well - made man, with small, sharp, 
 handsome features, a calm, contemplative eye, and 
 smooth, untroubled brow. He was known by his 
 friends to be at bottom a warm-hearted, good-natured 
 man, who did unobtrusively many a kind act. No 
 man could have imagined, to look at him, that the 
 most glaring ingredient in his character, so far as 
 conduct was concerned, was an uncontrollable propen- 
 sity to sneer — not behind-backs. but in presence of 
 
BARK WORSE THAN HIS BITE. 367 
 
 his subject. He did so without any appearance of 
 anger, malice, or sense of humour, but rather with a 
 mournful look, as if sorrowing that he should feel 
 called upon to exercise in the particular case his 
 privilege as follower of Thersites. Hence, though 
 his sneers were often bitter, and not infrequently 
 rude, his friends, when assailed, only laughed ; but 
 strangers were astonished, and if not quick in appre- 
 hension, were apt to resent his censorship as insolence. 
 
 He assailed me on the present occasion at his own 
 dinner-table. But I had been trained both to give 
 and take in this line of dialogue, at the table of the 
 Infirmary as well as at that of our Paris restaurant ; so 
 that at last Mrs Thomson implored him to desist, as 
 he came off somewhat ingloriously from the contest. 
 But he fairly discomfited me many years afterwards, 
 when we met accidentally in Edinburgh. By this 
 time a man about eighty, he had retired from active 
 duty for a few years ; and I had been misinformed 
 that he had been entirely laid aside, was never out of 
 doors, and not much out of bed. I was rather startled, 
 therefore, by meeting him one day face to face, look- 
 ing remarkably youthful and fresh, — so that I must 
 have surprised him by the heartiness of my assur- 
 ance that, after an interval of three or four years, 
 I found him not in the least changed. He at once 
 answered with a preliminary grunt — " Hmph ! you 
 are so much changed for the worse, that at first I did 
 not know who you were ! " 
 
 I was told by my brother John another tale of this 
 amusing ferocity. In his early years, Thomson de- 
 
368 EETURX HOME. 
 
 livered at Edinburgh a course of lectures on chem- 
 istry, which my brother attended. One day a fellow- 
 student, the late Dr Thatcher, went up to the table 
 after lecture, and made trial of the strange, rather 
 pleasurable sensation caused by drawing the fingers to 
 and fro through a mercurial trough. But this student 
 of chemistry had forgotten, possibly did not yet know, 
 the strong avidity of mercury for gold ; and being a 
 bit of a dandy all his life, he wore that day three gold 
 rings on the hand so employed. Xext day he went 
 up to Dr Thomson, and communicated his mishap. 
 " Two of the rings." said he, " have crumpled to 
 pieces. What should be done for the third, which 
 still keeps its shape ? " But all the satisfaction he 
 got was a sorrowful look, and the apostrophe, " Who 
 but a fool would wear three rings on his fingers, or 
 draw them through a pool of mercury ! " 
 
 We thus spent pleasantly in Glasgow the greater 
 part of our week's marriage-trip; and then posted home 
 by the familiar road, to receive the true welcome of 
 my mother and brother, and the prompt congratula- 
 tions of crowds of old friends. 
 
 For eight years afterwards we all lived together 
 in great harmony, and mutual affection, and regard, 
 and social happiness — interrupted, however, by my 
 mother's death, and in 1832 by my again suffering- 
 two severe attacks of fever. 
 
 My mother died at the good age of seventy-two. 
 having enjoyed good health and sound faculties till a 
 few days before. She had been subject all her life 
 
MOTHERS DEATH. 369 
 
 to attacks of headache, from which, however, she kept 
 generally free by keeping her hair cropped extremely 
 short, and by frequent washing of the head with cold 
 water. I thought she carried these precautions to 
 excess. But the manner of death, by paralysis, and 
 her success in reaching old age, with all the faculties 
 of her mind in vigorous condition, appeared to justify 
 her regimen. 
 
 VOL. I 
 
370 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 PROFESSIONAL HISTORY. 
 
 'EDINBURGH MEDICAL AND SURGICAL JOURNAL ' EXTENSIVE EPIDEMIC 
 
 FEVER IN 1827 AMONG THE POOR CHARACTERS OF THE FEVER 
 
 ARTICLE ON FEVER IN THE 'LIBRARY OF MEDICINE ' INTER- 
 MITTENT FEVER EPIDEMIC DYSENTERY VALUE OF OPIUM IN 
 
 THIS DISEASE RESEARCHES ON DISEASES OF THE KIDNEYS 
 
 A BOOK THEREON LECTURES ON THIS SUBJECT. 
 
 TVhex I was appointed (1827) Ordinary Physician 
 of the Infirmary, I had begun to compose my book 
 upon poisons ; I was often employed in questions, 
 chemical and medical, before the civil and criminal 
 courts of law : I had been publishing various papers 
 on subjects connected with medical jurisprudence, 
 more especially upon several trials for poisoning with 
 arsenic, real and imputed, and on the influence of 
 the poisonous gases on plants, and the injurious 
 effects produced on surrounding vegetation by the 
 chemical manufactories which evolve the irritant 
 gases ; I had also just become, along with Dr Craigie, 
 joint editor of the ' Edinburgh Medical and Surgical 
 Journal.' My hands were therefore already full when 
 
EEVEK EPIDEMIC. 371 
 
 I had to add the ordinary daily duties of an Infirmary 
 physician, and they were filled to overflowing by my 
 entrance on duty happening to concur with the out- 
 break of an extensive epidemic fever. 
 
 During the previous epidemic, ten years before, the 
 annual admissions into the Infirmary on account of 
 fever had rapidly risen from 100 to 2064 in the two 
 years of 1818 and 1819 together. Gradual subsidence 
 in the next four years restored the original rate of 100 
 in 1823. But in two years more it began to rise 
 again with rapidity; and in 1827 and 1828 there 
 were admitted 3900 fevers, and next year 770. More 
 accommodation becoming necessary, Queensberry 
 House was again opened as a fever hospital, and its 
 150 beds were kept occupied for a long time. The 
 labour thus thrown on the medical staff of the Infir- 
 mary was consequently great. The fever-house duty 
 was undertaken by us in rotation ; and during my 
 three months' turn of service I had charge of 150 
 patients. Though aided by an able medical super- 
 intendent, Dr William Eeid, elder brother of Dr 
 Boswell Reid, and by two active well-trained clinical 
 clerks, my visit occupied three hours daily, notwith- 
 standing that I examined minutely those only who 
 were severely ill. 
 
 This epidemic arose, like the last, during a, pro- 
 tracted period of want of work and low wages among 
 the labouring classes and tradespeople. It prevailed 
 only among the working classes and unemployed poor. 
 It was scarcely met with at all in the middle ranks of 
 town bfe, and there only under circumstances of pecu- 
 
372 CHARACTERS OF THE FEVER. 
 
 liar exposure among the sick. The lower the position 
 of the population, the wider were its ravages. Hence 
 the Fountainbridge and West Port districts, the Grass- 
 market " closes," the Cowgate, and the innumerable 
 narrow "wynds" descending on either of the steep 
 flanks of the long slope of the High Street and Can- 
 ongate, supplied a vast proportion of the sufferers. 
 Certain of these wynds and closes were notorious in 
 1818-19 for their fertility. I am sorry I am unable now 
 to attach a numerical ratio to the continuous stream 
 poured out upon us from the very same localities — 
 dens of disease now fortunately, the worst of them at 
 least, levelled with the earth by Provost Chambers's 
 city improvements. Great pains were taken by the 
 authorities to discover the sick, and clear them out 
 into hospital. But no attempt was made, as in more 
 recent times with great success, to clear out also the 
 infected healthy, and protect them in modified quar- 
 antine houses. Hence, when the fever penetrated 
 into one of its favourite localities, it never left the 
 spot so long as there were victims to be laid low. 
 
 This epidemic presented precisely the same varie- 
 ties which I had observed on the former occasion. 
 There were many cases of inflammatory fever (the 
 synocha of Cullen), not so many of low fever (typhus), 
 and an intermediate proportion of a two-faced form 
 (Cullen's synochus), which for a week was undistin- 
 guishable from inflammatory fever, and then put on 
 the typhus character. Towards the close of the 
 epidemic the writings of Bright put us on the alert 
 for the discovery of enteric typhus ; but I can only 
 
THE INFLAMMATORY TYPE. 373 
 
 say that, although we had numerous thorough dis- 
 sections of cases assuming the typhus form, I myself 
 never saw a trace of enteric disease among them. 
 
 The inflammatory fever presented the same extreme 
 violence of reaction as in the former epidemic — the 
 same tendency to abrupt cessation with profuse sweat- 
 ing — the same liability to return abruptly a few days 
 afterwards— and the same disposition to depart finally 
 in a few days more, and again abruptly with free per- 
 spiration. The cases of typhus were more frequently 
 severe than in 1818-19. Icteric synocha occurred also 
 oftener, though far from frequently. In a few cases 
 I noticed the recurring stage of synocha put on the 
 regular form of tertian ague. I watched more nar- 
 rowly than before the usual phenomena of recurrence 
 in that fever, and soon recognised that it was almost 
 invariable in a first attack of the disease, that dia- 
 phoretic crisis took place between the fourth and 
 seventh days inclusive, that recurrence happened 
 regularly on the fourteenth, and that final recovery 
 ensued with perspiration on the seventeenth. In a 
 young adult these incidences were so regular that I 
 predicted them with confidence. I well remember 
 astonishing thus the late Dr James Andrew's father, 
 who was a retired warden, principal, or head-master 
 of Dulwich College, near London. His nephew, who 
 lived with him, Mr Francis Innes, one of my clinical 
 clerks at the fever-house, caught fever in the form of 
 synocha. It put on characters of great violence, so 
 that the old gentleman, who was rather curious in 
 physic for a non-medical man, was very much alarmed. 
 
374 SYNOCHA AGAIN IN 1842-44. 
 
 In the first place, I quieted his fears by assuring him 
 that his nephew would recover. On the fourth day 
 I bled my patient, and promised his uncle that the 
 fever would pass off before a certain hour next day 
 by sweating. So it fell out. Now, said I, feed him 
 up, but gradually, for towards the close of a day 
 which I named (the fourteenth), the fever will return, 
 and it cannot be prevented. So it did return just as 
 the appointed day was drawing to a close. Dr An- 
 drew (LL.D.) was again much alarmed by the great 
 violence of the symptoms ; but I quieted him with 
 the assurance that, though my patient would have 
 much suffering to undergo for three days more, he 
 would then again perspire, and be quit of his enemy 
 for good. Every act of this fever-drama, and the 
 very time of each, so tallied with the prediction, that 
 Dr Andrew seemed almost incbned to regard the whole 
 illness as a performance got up to my order. 
 
 I may here add, though out of order in date, 
 another instance of similar security of prediction in 
 unusual circumstances. The recurring form of synocha 
 reappeared in Edinburgh after an absence of fourteen 
 years in 1842-44. At the outset of this epidemic I had 
 no charge of it ; I was not aware that the recurring 
 form of fever had again shown itself ; and indeed for 
 some time the Infirmary physicians on service did not 
 recognise it, but mistook it for a new disease. At 
 this time Dr Bennett was seized with fever, and had 
 it severely. Having been laid up nryself with an 
 illness, I did not see him till he was convalescing. 
 When he had given me a history of his case, I at once 
 
ARTICLE ON FEVER. 375 
 
 told Mm that he had sustained an attack of my old 
 friend the synocha of 1817-19 and 1827-28, and 
 that he must be prepared for a return of it before the 
 close of the fourteenth day. He replied with an in- 
 credulous smile, " There is no time to be lost by it 
 then ! It is now three o'clock in the afternoon, and 
 the fourteenth day will end in five hours, for I was 
 taken ill quite abruptly at eight in the evening exactly 
 this day fortnight." I went straight home, a distance 
 of one mile ; and next day I learnt that I could 
 scarcely have reached my door before he was attacked 
 with violent rigors, which were followed by the usual 
 three days of violent fever, and then by crisis with 
 profuse sweating. The students, who have a trick of 
 eliciting a joke out of any remarkable incident, in- 
 sisted that I had practised on his self-suggestion, on 
 the influence of which, in causing and curing diseases, 
 Dr Bennett had several times been learnedly discours- 
 ing at this period. 
 
 I produced succinctly the chief results of my ex- 
 perience of the two epidemics of 1818-19 and 1827-28, 
 in the article on fever which I contributed to Dr 
 Tweedie's 'Library of Medicine,' published in 1840. 
 When the epidemic of 1842-44 broke out, Sir John 
 Rose Cormack, then ordinary physician of the In- 
 firmary, wrote a very excellent account of it. When 
 about half his book was in proof, he discovered that 
 all his main facts and deductions had appeared in 
 the article in question. They were indeed familiar to 
 all intelligent Edinburgh physicians of my own stand- 
 ing or older. That did not detract from the merits 
 
376 INTERMITTENT FEVER. 
 
 of Connack's book. Every great epidemic ought to 
 liave its historian, and Cormack has given a graphic 
 description of the epidemic fever of 1842-44. 
 
 Several good works treating specially of fever also 
 appeared subsequently in London on the disease break- 
 ing out there. I can find in those which deal with 
 inflammatory fever scarcely novelty enough to re- 
 cpiire a full volume for its enunciation. The Lon- 
 don epidemic deserved indeed to be fully recorded. 
 But its historians might with justice have been more 
 careful in recording wherein their observations and 
 conclusions were new, and wherein the disease merely 
 repeated itself as described in prior records. An 
 attempt, which appears likely to prove successful, has 
 been made in London to give that form of fever the 
 charm of novelty by giving it the new name of re- 
 lapsing fever. But the disease was far from being 
 new. Xor is the name true. The return on the four- 
 teenth day is no more a relapse than the second or 
 any subsequent fit of ague. It is an essential part of 
 most first attacks — a recurrence, not a true relapse. 
 Nor is it absolutely invariable even in first attacks ; 
 whilst in second attacks it occurs seldom, and in third 
 attacks never. 
 
 During my Infirmary service in 1827 I first became 
 practically acquainted with intermittent fever. In an 
 address to the Social Science Association in 1863, I 
 mentioned that ague had entirely disappeared from 
 Scotland, where, however, it had been extremely com- 
 mon in manv districts no longer as:o than the last 
 
AGUE OF THE FENS. 377 
 
 quarter of the late century. My first Infirmary case 
 was a rather remarkable illustration. 
 
 A fine-looking Roxburghshire man, of about twenty- 
 five, was sent for cure from Kelso. He had caught 
 tertian ague while working as a reaper at the harvest 
 in the Fens of Lincolnshire, and went home to his 
 own county to get cured. But his Kelso doctor had 
 never treated or seen a case of ague. The records of 
 a long-established dispensary in the town proved that, 
 about 1780, from 70 to 160 cases of ague were 
 annually treated by its physicians, but that not a 
 single case appeared in the dispensary books after 
 1806. The Kelso physician accordingly sent the man 
 on to Edinburgh. There was no difficulty in recog- 
 nising his disease, for I saw him at noon in a vio- 
 lent fit of rigor, waiting for admission among the 
 other applicants of the day. I allowed him never- 
 theless to take another fit, because such cases as 
 his sometimes get well without other treatment 
 than the rest and comforts of a hospital. He then 
 got eighteen grains of sulphate of quinia before the 
 subsequent fit that was due. But he had no other 
 paroxysm, and in a few days more he returned home 
 well. 
 
 I have had occasion to treat some fifteen or sixteen 
 cases of ague from Lincolnshire, Cambridgeshire, the 
 West Indies, or India. In two, the first fit after 
 administration of quinia was only much mitigated, 
 but there was no recurrence after a second set of 
 doses. In all the others there was no fit at all after 
 the first set of doses was given. I always allowed the 
 
378 EPIDEMIC DYSENTERY IN 1828. 
 
 men to take at least one fit after admission before 
 quinia was prescribed. 
 
 In the autumn of 1828 I made acquaintance with 
 epidemic dysentery, and I am thankful that I have 
 never met with it again. Edinburgh is not liable 
 to suffer much from bowel - complaints, and seems 
 especially exempt in general from the severe forms 
 of dysentery. But medical men had observed for 
 two or three years that bowel-complaints were get- 
 ting more frequent than usual, both as originat- 
 ing in the homes of the poor, and even as arising 
 among the sick in the wards of the Infirmary. In 
 1828 dysentery broke out with violence in Glasgow; 
 and though less severe in Edinburgh, it also prevailed 
 there to a very unusual extent. As it is for the most 
 part a painful and incapacitating malady from the 
 very beginning, workmen commonly fly at once to 
 the physician for relief; and as remedies are very 
 efficacious when made use of in good time, many 
 cases get well at home. It is chiefly when dysentery 
 is violent from the first, or becomes so through 
 neglect or unsuccessful treatment, that recourse is 
 had to a hosjDital by the working classes. Hence 
 the occurrence of eighty cases of dysentery in the 
 Royal Infirmary during August, September, Octo- 
 ber, and November 1828, gives no adequate idea of 
 the extent to which the disease had prevailed in 
 the town. 
 
 By far the greater number of these cases were 
 uncommonly severe. About a fourth part died, two 
 of them only two days after admission, and several 
 
ITS CHARACTERS. 379 
 
 others on the tenth or eleventh day after seizure. 
 Not a few presented the characters of the worst camp 
 dysenteries in the records of military service. Some 
 of the cases originated in the hospital itself, among 
 surgical as well as medical patients ; and these, occur- 
 ring invariably in worn-out frames, were always vio- 
 lent, and too generally fatal. It was for the most 
 part impossible to trace an exciting cause. What 
 might have been the predisposing cause was equally 
 mysterious. There was a constitutio epidemica, caus- 
 ing a proneness to dysentery. But that is no more 
 than another, and theoretical, name for the proneness. 
 Its existence, however, was shown not merely by the 
 frequent occurrence of dysentery and acute diarrhoea 
 as idiopathic diseases, but likewise by their unusual 
 frequency of intercurrence during other diseases, and 
 especially by their concurrence with fever. Some- 
 times the dysenteric symptoms, beginning in the 
 middle of the fever, ceased with the fever or before it. 
 More generally they went on after the fever ceased, 
 and might then prove, or not prove, fatal. More 
 rarely they did not occur till convalescence had 
 begun. The dissections which I myself witnessed 
 presented the usual effects of dysentery. The morbid 
 appearances were confined to the great intestine, and 
 did not extend above the ileo-ccecal valve. But in 
 other cases my colleagues occasionally recognised the 
 characters — described for the first time in England 
 by Dr Bright in his ' Hospital Beports,' published in 
 the previous year — of enteric fever. Enteric fever, 
 entero-mesenteric fever, dothinenteritis, typhoid fever, 
 
380 DYSENTERY TREATED BY OPIUM. 
 
 as it has been variously called, was probably met with 
 in Edinburgh for the first time at this period. At all 
 events, it was first recognised then. But for many 
 years afterwards it occurred very rarely in Infirmary 
 practice, and only in detached solitary cases at con- 
 siderable intervals of time. 
 
 The treatment I followed for the epidemic dysen- 
 tery of 1828 was most effectual when it could be 
 employed in time for fair play. I trusted simply to 
 the administration of opium — in full doses, and in 
 cpiick succession, till the diarrhoea ceased. I never 
 gave an adult less than two grains at a time — often 
 I gave three ; and in urgent cases these doses were 
 repeated so often that 18, 24, even 30 grains were 
 taken in one way or another in twenty-four hours. 
 Sometimes complete relief was obtained from the 
 second or even the first dose. Narcotic symptoms 
 were of course carefully watched for, but never 
 occurred before diarrhoea was arrested ; and when 
 they did occur, they were easily controlled. I also 
 learnt to be cautious in the use of aperients after 
 stoppage of the diarrhoea, though they had been 
 advised as an alternating measure with opiates in all 
 writings subsequent to Sydenham's recommendation 
 to that effect. Cullen's clause in the definition in his 
 ' Nosologia,' — " retentis plerumque fsecibus alvinis," — 
 which must have had great influence in keeping up 
 the use of aperients, — was shown in this epidemic to 
 be a mistake. After a few discharges, scarcely any- 
 thing came off during life ; and nothing was found in 
 any instance after death in the acute stage except 
 
ITS SUCCESS. 381 
 
 bloody mucus, blood itself, or pus — scybalous fseces 
 never. But another misleading circumstance is that, 
 after a smart dysentery, or even an acute diarrhoea, 
 there is often for several days a sense of uneasy, 
 slightly painful weight or pressure in the lower pelvic 
 region, very apt to give the patient the impression of 
 an accumulation there, though it really depends on 
 nothing else than tenderness of the intestine after 
 great irritation. This uneasiness, consequently, is made 
 worse by aperients. After four days of blockade from 
 opium, the ordinary function returns naturally. If not, 
 it may then be aided ; sooner is unnecessary, and may 
 be unsafe. The treatment of the chronic stage of 
 dysentery was much more tedious, and more pre- 
 carious. Acetate of lead, with opium, proved very 
 serviceable in my hands. Dr Spens was successful 
 with decoction and extract of logwood ; and in sub- 
 sequent times I found both the one and the other 
 to be trustworthy remedies. Of about forty cases of 
 dysentery in the epidemic of 1828 I lost only three — 
 all of which were unpromising cases from the first of 
 my charge of them. A short account of this epidemic 
 •and its treatment was published in the 'Edinburgh 
 Medical and Surgical Journal' for January 1829. 
 
 Since 1828 I have seen extremely little of dysen- 
 tery, and always found both it and acute diarrhoea 
 effectually checked, when taken in time, by one or 
 two full closes of opium or hydrochlorate of morphia. 
 One unfortunate case, however, I shall never forget, 
 the whole circumstances being remarkable. A gentle- 
 man of fifty, a member of an opulent family of our 
 
382 A SAD CASE. 
 
 citizen mercantile men, and greatly esteemed by a 
 multitude of friends, was seized violently with this 
 disease. By ill luck he came under the medical 
 
 charge of the homoeopathic Dr , who treated him 
 
 with drops of nothingness, powder of nonentity, and 
 extractum nihili. Matters became swiftly worse and 
 worse ; he was pronounced to be in extreme danger ; 
 and at last a knot of his attached friends came to the 
 resolution that they ought to interfere with further 
 homoeopathic proceedings. A wealthy retired trades- 
 man and ex-bailie undertook the delicate mission, 
 and discharged it without any delicacy at all. After 
 some controversy with the patient's distracted wife, 
 who was herself anxious to have more advice, but 
 
 hesitated through tenderness for , he wound up 
 
 his appeal by exclaiming, "Mrs , if you do not 
 
 call in a proper physician immediately, you will be 
 your husband's murderess ! " So he was authorised 
 to fetch me at once, and homoeopath)^ got its conge 
 — but far too late. I went to the sufferer with- 
 out a moment's delay, and beheld the most deplor- 
 able, the most fearful, dysentery which I ever wit- 
 nessed. It is sufficient to say, that already, on I 
 think the fifth, certainly a very early, day of the 
 attack, there was an almost continual intestinal 
 hemorrhage, and every other forerunner of swiftly 
 impending death. I saw the gentleman late in the 
 afternoon, and he expired early the same evening. 
 
 Very soon after the publication of Dr Bright's 
 'Hospital Beports' in 1827, my attention was riveted 
 
ARTICLE ON DISEASE OF THE KIDNEYS. 383 
 
 on that portion of the work which announced his great 
 discovery of the relation between dropsy and a pre- 
 viously unknown organic disease of the kidneys. I 
 had written an analysis of that investigation for the 
 ' Medical and Surgical Journal' for July 1828 ; and at 
 the same time I began to observe cases of the disease 
 under my charge in the hospital. The great revolu- 
 tion in the views of the medical profession respecting 
 the pathology of dropsy, occasioned by the discoveries 
 of Bright, was the probable cause of the coldness with 
 which they were at first received by his brethren. It 
 was said that such cases as he described had been 
 seen only in Guy's Hospital, and in the scum alone 
 of the London population. The first confirmation of 
 Bright's propositions proceeded from a paper pub- 
 lished by me in the ' Edinburgh Medical and Surgical 
 Journal' for October 1829. The same incredulity 
 attended at first my announcement of Bright's dis- 
 ease being prevalent in Edinburgh. It was thought 
 to occur in Infirmary practice alone, and only among 
 the labouring community. In a law action as to the 
 nullity of a deed on the ground of its having been 
 executed on deathbed, two physicians, one of them a 
 lecturer on the practice of physic, had the audacity to 
 swear in court that the testator could not have died 
 of Bright's disease, as the chief witness for the pro- 
 secution suggested, because that disease was unknown 
 in the middle ranks of life. About this time, how- 
 ever, I was consulted in my first case in point, that 
 of an army officer ; Dr Abercrombie very early saw 
 the truth in his extensive practice ; and by-and-by 
 
384 bright's disease. 
 
 Blight's disease was recognised in all stations of life, 
 by all medical men, and only in too great abundance. 
 
 The substance of my paper went avowedly no far- 
 ther than to confirm, on a new field of observation, 
 the main features and many details of Bright's ad- 
 mirable inquiry. The only novelty of any conse- 
 quence was a complete demonstration by chemical 
 analysis of the occasional presence of urea in the 
 blood — a fact which some experiments supplied to 
 Bright by Dr Bostock had obscurely indicated, and 
 which seemed to be observable whenever the daily 
 discharge of urea by the kidneys was materially de- 
 fective. Another point of some consequence was an 
 indication, fully established afterwards, that the dis- 
 ease is not the deadly, incurable malady pointed at 
 by the experience of its first observer, but that it 
 might be much mitigated, arrested in its progress, or 
 even cured. 
 
 Bright's disease proved to be so common in all 
 ranks of society, that I had soon very ample oppor- 
 tunities for further observation ; and consequently my 
 materials relative to this subject accumulated, and 
 appeared valuable enough to be produced in a separ- 
 ate work, which appeared in 1839 under the title of a 
 treatise ' On Granular Degeneration of the Kidneys.' 
 In this work the frequency of the disease was fully 
 substantiated. It was shown to occur both in the 
 slow, and often insidious, chronic form, long unan- 
 nounced by any symptom except albuminous urine, 
 and in many intermediate cases between such shapes 
 and the swift acute form, which puts on the char- 
 
GRANULAR DEGENERATION OF THE KIDNEYS. 38 
 
 acters of an inflammatory disease. It is worthy of 
 remark, however, that the acute form, common enough 
 for many years, has been comparatively seldom ob- 
 served for a considerable time past, unless after scar- 
 latina. The treatise further indicated that probably 
 under the general and vague name of Bright's disease 
 were comprehended more than one organic disease of 
 the kidneys— a conjecture which was soon after sub- 
 stantiated, in the first instance by Professor Gluge of 
 Brussels, and immediately afterwards, and independ- 
 ently, by Dr Johnson of Guy's Hospital. It was also 
 shown that dropsy is not a necessary accompaniment, 
 and that in some cases the disease goes on to a fatal 
 termination without dropsical effusion anywhere from 
 first to last. Evidence was adduced of the curability 
 of both the acute and chronic forms of the disease ; 
 and in submitting a system of treatment, stress was 
 laid on the utility and necessity in many cases of re- 
 moving dropsy by diuretics, the use of which several 
 authorities in England, reasoning from an unsound 
 theoretical objection to stimulating the kidneys, had 
 rather strongly condemned — as indeed they seem 
 even still disposed to do. There is also contained in 
 the book an abstract of many analyses, showing that 
 the kidney secretion, though generally reduced in 
 volume, is not infrequently much increased in quan- 
 tity ; that it is in that case very low in density ; 
 that the solids secreted daily are always reduced ; 
 that albumen is most abundant in acute cases, may 
 be scanty in the chronic forms, and is not vicarious 
 of defective urea ; that urea may be always found 
 vol. I. 2 b 
 
386 TRICKS OF AUTHORS. 
 
 abundantly in the blood when it is materially defec- 
 tive in the urine, and infers great danger when it 
 abounds ; that the disease quickly exhausts the 
 blood-globules, so that in advanced cases this im- 
 portant part of the blood may be reduced even to a 
 third of the natural amount ; that the albumen of 
 the serum is also reduced, but not so much as the red 
 globules ; and that it is sooner than they restored in 
 part, even though the event may prove to be un- 
 favourable. These observations on the state of the 
 blood were subsequently repeated and confirmed in 
 an able investigation by Andral and Gavarrey at 
 Paris. 
 
 It is odd that English writers in more recent times 
 seem disposed to prefer quoting the French inquiry 
 for facts, which, with scarcely any exception, were 
 previously established in my investigation. A pro- 
 fessor is doomed to see his oral precepts occasionally 
 appear first in print under the authority of others, 
 and he can scarcely reclaim them. But when he does 
 publish, he may reasonably expect that what he enun- 
 ciates shall not be assigned to others who merely 
 repeat and confirm his observations. A refinement 
 on this loose and careless procedure is when an author 
 himself repeats the ipsissima facta of a prior in- 
 quiry, and quotes his own facts only as authority for 
 his conclusions, of which trick in authoreraft I could 
 quote an instance, were I maliciously inclined. 
 
 Twelve years after the publication of my treatise 
 on Bright's disease, I recurred to the subject on the 
 occasion of a number of interesting cases accidentally 
 
LECTURES OK BRIGHT's DISEASE. 387 
 
 accumulating in my Infirmary wards and in private 
 practice. Taking advantage of the opportunity, I 
 delivered to my clinical students in March 1851 two 
 lectures, which appeared afterwards in the ' Journal of 
 Medical Science ' for the following June. A summary 
 is there given of all that was known down to that 
 date of the symptomatology, pathology, and treat- 
 ment, deduced especially from the investigations of 
 Gluge and Johnson, as well as from my own ulterior 
 experience ; and I was able to illustrate many of 
 these deductions by reference to cases actually under 
 the students' eyes. There may be found apt con- 
 firmation, from description and faithful drawings 
 by my then clinical assistant, Dr Sanders, that the 
 microscopic characters of the two forms of disease 
 — stearosis and desquamative inflammation — when 
 seen distinctly in the sediment of the urine during 
 life, may be likewise seen as distinctly in the same 
 cases in the uriniferous tubes themselves, examined 
 after death. Among other proofs of curability, there 
 is a remarkable instance of complete cure twice accom- 
 plished in the same subject in the course of twelve 
 years. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 SOME CHEMICAL INQUIRIES. 
 
 HYA-HYA TREE JUICE WHEY-LIKE AND MILKY SERUM OF THE 
 
 BLOOD EXPERIMENTS ON THE ACTION OP AIR ON BLOOD 
 
 GURJUN OIL INDIAN CAOUTCHOUC PERSIAN NAPHTHA RAN- 
 GOON PETROLEUM FORESTALLED BY A FEW MONTHS ONLY IN 
 
 THE DISCOVERY OF PARAFFIN DR SIMPSON AND PARAFFIN-OIL 
 
 THE TORBANEHILL MINERAL AN EVENTFUL JURY TRIAL 
 
 " STICK TO THAT " ANOTHER GREAT LAWSUIT DEEP INTEREST 
 
 IN THE QUESTION CONCLUSIONS AS TO YOUNG'S PARAFFIN-OIL 
 
 THE LAW OF PATENTS. 
 
 In April 1831 Dr William Gregory published in the 
 ' Edinburgh Medical and Surgical Journal ' his valu- 
 able discovery of the preparation of hydrochlorate of 
 morphia without the use of alcohol or any other 
 solvent than water. Morphia, till then used in the 
 form of acetate, had made little progress in Britain, 
 because too expensive, and probably also by no means 
 always pure. But Gregory's process supplied a sopo- 
 rific dose of morphia at no greater cost than the equi- 
 valent dose of laudanum, and in a state of great 
 purity. Much interested in this discovery on various 
 accounts, I made a number of trials of the new salt, 
 
HYDKOCHLORATE OP MORPHIA. 389 
 
 and communicated the results to Dr Gregory, who 
 published them in his paper. The conclusions I came 
 to were, that the hydrochlorate of morphia is quite 
 equal to opium and laudanum for inducing prompt, 
 sure, placid sleep ; that it is as cheap as laudanum ; that 
 it is comparatively free from all the objectionable 
 after-effects of galenical opiates except constipation of 
 the bowels ; that it interferes in particular much less 
 with appetite and digestion in the morning after its 
 soporific action is over ; and that, when taken habitu- 
 ally for some time, it does not require to be so quickly 
 increased in dose in order to obtain the full effect pro- 
 duced at first. At the time of publication I had not 
 had an opportunity of trying its action in the case of 
 any one liable to suffer the disagreeable operation of 
 opiates. But I soon afterwards found that in general 
 it has a very great advantage in such cases over all 
 ordinary opiates, and is often free from any injurious 
 effects whatever. Numberless galenical nostrums for 
 the same purpose have since come successively into 
 fashion, such as Battley's solution, chlorodyne, ne- 
 penthe, &c. But in my own observation they are all 
 inferior to hydrochlorate of morphia, which, as it soon 
 displaced the previously favourite nostrum, the black 
 drop, is destined also to see all its successors disap- 
 pear in time. 
 
 It is now the time to notice also some chemical 
 inquiries which I carried on during the period when I 
 held the office of ordinary physician of the Infirmary 
 between 1827 and 1832. 
 
390 MILK OF THE HYA-HYA TREE. 
 
 At Professor Jameson's request I examined in 1830 
 the juice obtained by incision into the trunk of the 
 Hya-hya tree (Taberncemontana utilis) of Demerara, 
 sent to him as a variety of vegetable milk, in use as a 
 substitute for the milk of the cow. Lindley, in his 
 ' Vegetable Kingdom,' says the Hya-hya is one of the 
 tropical cow-trees which produce a sweet juice like 
 thick milk. If that apocynaceous species really pro- 
 duces a nutritive juice analogous to that of the South 
 American Palo di vaca, the Galactodendron (or Brosi- 
 mum) utile, Jameson's correspondent must have made 
 a mistake, for the substance put into my hands did 
 not contain any nutritive principle. Nevertheless its 
 composition, being peculiar, was not without interest. 
 The material for analysis consisted of a Little watery, 
 acidulous fluid, and a much larger proportion of a 
 white concrete honeycombed matter. This solid sub- 
 stance was found to contain about four per cent of a 
 principle identical in every respect with caoutchouc, 
 the remainder being a different principle possessing 
 the properties in part of caoutchouc, of wax, and of 
 resin. From these and other characters it evidently 
 belonged to the carboniferous vegetable principles in- 
 capable of undergoing digestion, and consecmently of 
 supplying nutriment to the animal body. — (Edin. 
 New PM1. Journal, July 1830, ix. 31.) 
 
 About the same time I analysed for Mr Liston a 
 recto-vesical calculus, which had protruded both into 
 the bladder and the adjoining gut. I was surprised 
 to find that this calculus corresponded in composition, 
 not so much with any variety of urinary calculus, as 
 
WHEY-LIKE" BLOOD SERUM. 391 
 
 with the singular intestinal calculi described by Dr 
 Monro. That is, it consisted in part indeed of urate 
 of ammonia, but mainly of earthy phosphates, binding 
 animal matter, and the bristles which lie under the 
 husk in the hilum of oats, which are apt to remain 
 mixed with oatmeal when it leaves the mill. 
 
 In 1830 I settled the nature of the whey-like and 
 milky appearances of the serum of the blood some- 
 times observed in unascertained states of disease. 
 I showed that blood in its healthy state contains a 
 minute quantity of fat ; that this is redundant in 
 serum, which resembles whey ; that, when serum is 
 so white and opaque as to be like milk, this appear- 
 ance is owing simply to the presence of from three to 
 five per cent of fatty matter, and its composition was 
 shown to correspond with what had been assigned 
 by M. Chevreul to human fat. — (Edin. Med. and 
 Surg. Journal, 1830.) 
 
 Dr John Davy had stated in print that, according 
 to his experiments, venous blood under exposure to 
 atmospheric air out of the body becomes florid, without 
 either absorbing oxygen or giving off carbonic acid, 
 as in the vital phenomena of respiration, — thereby 
 throwing doubts on the accredited theory, which 
 regards the evolution of the latter and absorption 
 of the former in the act of breathing as merely a 
 chemical, and not a vital, change. I found, however, 
 that Davy had committed an oversight by confining 
 his attention to the changes produced on a com- 
 paratively large volume of air by the oxj^genation 
 
392 ACTION OF AIR ON THE BLOOD. 
 
 of little more than the surface of a small venous clot 
 — changes too limited to be easily recognised, and 
 still less capable of being measured with confidence. 
 But when a bottle, containing a few angular shreds 
 of lead, was filled quite full of venous blood direct 
 from a vein, and then shaken while coagulating, so 
 that the fibrin was detached upon the lead, I found 
 that the fluid mixture of serum and red globules, 
 agitated in a moderate quantity of atmospheric air 
 in an accurately closed vessel till it acquired the 
 bright arterial hue, absorbed a very sensible amount 
 of oxygen ; and although the carbonic acid evolved 
 was not nearly equal to the oxygen gas which had 
 disappeared, this was easily accounted for by the sol- 
 vent power of serum over carbonic acid. 
 
 The observations made on this subject, on milky 
 serum, and on the state of the blood in Bright's 
 disease, made me resolve to study somewhat syste- 
 matically the changes produced in the blood by 
 disease. But my translation in 1832 to the chair of 
 Materia Medica turned all my chemical work into 
 a different channel. 
 
 During the period between 1827 and 1832 I made 
 a rather curious observation, which has been repeat- 
 edly made by others since, but has not yet led, so 
 far as I am aware, to any pathological deduction. 
 Twice in the fluid withdrawn from the sac of hydro- 
 cele in the surgical wards of the Royal Infirmary were 
 seen in abundance minute glistening crystalline scales, 
 which proved to be cholesterine. The same substance 
 I found in great abundance in a very extraordinary 
 
GUKJUN OIL. 393 
 
 case in Dr Home's clinical ward — that of a man who 
 died with one of the kidneys converted into a large 
 sac of fluid, contained in a thin, dense, uniform osseous 
 shell. The liquid absolutely shone with glistening 
 pearly scales of pure cholesterine. 
 
 In 1831 I narrowly escaped becoming a discoverer. 
 When Sir David Brewster was secretary of the Eoyal 
 Society of Edinburgh, the late Mr George Swinton, 
 while secretary to Government at Calcutta, sent to 
 the Society several novel natural productions, which 
 seemed to him to deserve investigation. Sir David, 
 probably seeing no source of optical interest in any 
 of them, consigned them all to repose in a dark closet. 
 His successor in office, Sir John Eobison, a great lover 
 of order, discovered them in a general " redding-up " 
 of the Society's premises ; and being interested in 
 every product of India, where he had spent most of 
 his early life as a civil engineer in the Nizam's service, 
 asked me to look at them. I singled out Gurjun 
 oil, Indian caoutchouc, Persian naphtha, and Rangoon 
 petroleum. 
 
 Gurjun oil, obtained by incision from the trunk of 
 several species of Dipterocarpus, lofty trees flourishing 
 particularly in Burmah, proved to be a very liquid 
 turpentine, composed of about 6 per cent of resin 
 and 94 per cent of volatile oil, and possessing sensible 
 properties not unlike those of copaiva balsam, for 
 which Sir William O'Shaughnessey afterwards ascer- 
 tained that it could be usefully substituted in 
 medicine. 
 
 Indian caoutchouc, the produce of Ficus elastica, 
 
394 PERSIAN NAPHTHA. 
 
 I found to possess, though in an inferior degree, the 
 properties of the caoutchouc of commerce from tropical 
 America, and, among these, ready solubility in ether 
 and coal-tar naphtha. But it is much less elastic, and 
 cannot be recovered from its naphthous or ethereal 
 solutions either with its original elasticity or free 
 from stickiness. Hence it cannot be used for most of 
 the useful purposes to which American caoutchouc is 
 applied. 
 
 The Persian naphtha, at that time rare in Europe, 
 but sent by Mr Swinton in large cpiantity, I expected 
 to prove a valuable acquisition. It turned out, how- 
 ever, to be nothing else than very good oil-of-tur- 
 pentine. Mr Swinton would at first scarcely credit 
 my report, and assigned excellent reasons why decep- 
 tion could not have been practised. He was even in- 
 clined to go in with an extraordinary theory suggested 
 by the speculative Dr William Gregory, that the 
 naphtha had in time acquired some of the sensible 
 properties of oil-of-turpentiue. For my part, I pre- 
 ferred the theory of imposition in India ; and when 
 Mr Swinton and Dr Gregory came to examine the 
 dubious commodity for themselves, they confessed 
 they could make nothing of it except that it was 
 genuine primary oil-of-turpentine. 
 
 Eangoon petroleum, obtained abundantly from 
 deep pits in the sandy banks of the Irawaddy, proved 
 to be an article of much greater interest. It is of the 
 consistence of lard at all ordinary temperatures of 
 this climate, but becomes quite liquid about 90° Fahr. 
 I obtained from it by distillation, first a naphthous 
 
PARAFFIN DISCOVERED. 395 
 
 fluid, which Gregory afterwards found to present a 
 great resemblance to native naphtha — and then a 
 crystalline body, which I naturally took at first for 
 naphthaline produced by distilling coal-tar. But on 
 ascertaining that its properties are totally different, 
 I saw I had got a new principle, and called it " petro- 
 line." — (Trans. Boy. Soc. of Edin., xiii. 1.) 
 
 My paper on the subject was read to the Boyal 
 Society of Edinburgh in February 1831. But on 
 the morning of the very same day I saw, from a new 
 number of Liebig's ' Annalen der Pharmacie,' that 
 the same principle had been obtained during the 
 previous year by the insatiable discoverer Beichen- 
 bach, who had called it " paraffin " on account of the 
 few affinities it possesses with other bodies {irapa, 
 affinis). So I missed being the discoverer of paraffin 
 by a few months only. 
 
 My inquiry into this subject brought me subse- 
 quently in contact with several novel and interest- 
 ing commercial enterprises and schemes more or 
 less connected with it. On the first occasion, the 
 subject was Bangoon petroleum itself. Sir James, 
 at that time Dr Simpson, came to me one morning 
 with great confidence in a new scheme. Paraffin-oil, 
 he said, had been found the best of all anti-friction 
 lubricants for the finer kinds of large machinery, but 
 is too costly. It had occurred to him that Bangoon 
 petroleum might do equally well. If I had any left, 
 he proposed to make trial of it with an instrument 
 at the engineering works of Morton in Leith Walk. 
 Should the trial turn out favourably, his desire was 
 
396 Simpson's lubricant. 
 
 to take out a patent for the invention. But he was 
 told he could scarcely do so safely without my con- 
 currence, which he hoped to obtain. I replied that 
 there was plenty of petroleum for the trial ; that 
 there seemed no reason why I should possess any 
 control over such a patent ; that, at any rate, he 
 was most welcome to my silence and consent, as 
 I had long ago resolved never to have any con- 
 cern in patents ; but that when he should make 
 £100,000 by his patent, he might probably present 
 me with the last thousand in payment of the first 
 specimen of " Simpson's Incomparable Anti-friction 
 Lubricant " ! 
 
 Simpson was at this period in the full swing of his 
 marvellous practice. When I called for him, his two 
 reception-rooms were, as usual, full of patients, more 
 were seated in the lobby, female faces stared from 
 all the windows in vacant expectancy, and a lady 
 was ringing the door-bell. But the doctor brushed 
 through the crowd to join me, and left them all 
 kicking their heels at their leisure for the next two 
 hours. We found that the instrument, which marked 
 100 when arrested by friction without any lubricant, 
 indicated 38 with olive-oil, 18 with sperm-oil, the 
 usual lubricant then employed, and only 6 with my 
 petroleum. So here was apparently a discovery to 
 make a fortune with. 
 
 Simpson wrote to a London solicitor to take out 
 a caveat for him. The solicitor, however, ascertained 
 at the Patent Office that a patent had been already 
 obtained for the very thing. He consoled himself 
 
THE TORBANEHILL MINERAL. 397 
 
 with the reflection that the patent, after all, was prob- 
 ably not worth a single farthing. 
 
 The next occasion was an eventful jury trial rela- 
 tive to the lease of the Torbanehill mineral, which 
 at the time of the trial supplied Mr James Young 
 with the material for manufacturing his famous par- 
 affin-oil and paraffin-candles. A Falkirk solicitor, Mr 
 Eussell, who was said to be making a fortune by 
 working the minerals on the property of Boghall, took, 
 for an insignificant " lordship," a lease of the coal and 
 limestone (only) on the conterminous estate of Tor- 
 banehill. It was well known that there existed on 
 that property an inferior coal, too abundant in iron 
 pyrites for ordinary use, and this was ostensibly the 
 coal in the eye of the tenant. But I had no doubt 
 as he had been working in the Boghall mine the far 
 more profitable mineral which was enriching him, and 
 as he was an extremely shrewd, well-informed man, 
 that he had a very tolerable notion that the same 
 bed extended into the Torbanehill property. The 
 owner of that estate had assuredly no suspicion of 
 that fact. Bussell found the valuable mineral at no 
 great depth under the poor splint - coal, immedi- 
 ately began to raise it in large quantity, and sold it 
 at 18s. a- ton at the pit-mouth as coal. The owner 
 of the land, on learning this result, challenged his 
 tenant for appropriating his argillaceous bitumen, 
 which had not been let with the coal and limestone. 
 The parties consequently got into the Court of Ses- 
 sion, and there ensued a most costly lawsuit, ending 
 in the verdict of a jury in favour of the lessee. A 
 
398 me Gillespie's visit. 
 
 new trial, however, was applied for, and rather than 
 run the risk of an adverse verdict, Eussell com- 
 promised the question by consenting to treble the 
 original petty lordship of sixpence a-ton. He was 
 well able to allow that small concession, for the 
 price of the mineral ran up rapidly to 36s., and at 
 one time to 50s. ; and at the time of the first trial 
 it was estimated that what remained to be worked 
 amounted to 1,400,000 tons. 
 
 Chemists, mineralogists, and engineers innumer- 
 able, and from all parts of the kingdom, swore against 
 one another at the trial, mainly to settle the question, 
 which nevertheless was not decided, whether the 
 precious stone was cannel-coal or bituminous shale. 
 The landowner had been advised to consult me on 
 this point, and one morning he introduced himself 
 for the purpose immediately after my college lecture. 
 He was a plain, simple-hearted gentleman, about sixty 
 years of age, more given to study abstruse questions 
 in ethical philosophy than to looking after his estate, 
 and in his manner shy and somewhat embarrassed. 
 The following conversation took place : " Doctor, 
 my name is Gillespie — Mr Gillespie of Torbanehill. 
 I am in the Court, and my counsel tell me I must 
 have a report from you." " Well, Mr Gillespie, I 
 must first know what it is about." " Ah, I am told 
 that, as the party interested, I had better say no- 
 thing about that. But see your colleague, Dr Wil- 
 son ; he knows all, and can tell you everything." 
 "Very good; but before I can go even so far, I must 
 have some general idea of the nature of the question 
 
<: STICK TO THAT, DOCTOR." 399 
 
 on which I am desired to report." " Then, doctor, I 
 may tell yon this much. A mineral has been dis- 
 covered on my estate worth all the gold in California, 
 and another man is fast appropriating it, though it 
 is my property." " I should not have expected, Mr 
 Gillespie, to find gold in the Bathgate district." 
 " No, not exactly gold. But I can assure you this 
 person is making plenty of gold with my mineral ; 
 and here it is." At the same time he pulled out of 
 his pocket a hand specimen, presented it to me, and 
 retired again to his previous rather distant position. 
 On examining it attentively, I said, " Why, Mr Gil- 
 lespie, in the days when I was a mineralogist I should 
 have called this bituminous shale." Thereupon, with 
 two or three long strides, he came up to me, patted 
 me on the shoulder, and exclaimed, " Doctor, stick 
 to that ! I need say no more ; stick to that ! See 
 Dr George Wilson at once. But stick to that, doctor 
 — stick to that ! " 
 
 I had given up for some years being a scientific 
 witness on such occasions as this ; and as I saw I 
 could not give evidence in Mr Gillespie's case without 
 an elaborate chemical investigation, for which my 
 professional pursuits allowed me no leisure, I decHned 
 being engaged by him. I studied the subject, how- 
 ever, with some care, and, as the result, my opinion 
 was, and still is, that the Torbanehill mineral stands 
 so exactly on the boundary-line between a shale and 
 a coal, that both sets of witnesses might conscien- 
 tiously think themselves in the right. It is not un- 
 worthy of remark on that point, that, when I showed 
 
400 young's paraffin-oil lawsuit. 
 
 a specimen to Professor Jameson, then frail in body 
 but in full vigour of mind, he, after careful examina- 
 tion with his lens and knife, at once pronounced the 
 mineral to be a shale, and not a coal. 
 
 The Court directed the jury to put out of view the 
 scientific question as to the nature of the Torbanehill 
 mineral, and all the conflicting evidence on that 
 subject, and to decide according as they should think 
 that the two parties severally knew, or did not know, 
 what it was that was bought and sold. If that was a 
 sound direction — and it is not easy to see what else 
 the Court could rule in the circumstances — then, in 
 my opinion, the verdict was against the evidence. 
 The pitiful lordship of sixpence was proof enough 
 that Mr Gillespie had no idea whatever that he was 
 disposing of so valuable a mineral. But Mr Eussell 
 had sufficient information to bear out the strongest 
 presumption at least, that what he had been working 
 at Boghall would also be found at Torbanehill. 
 
 My next encounter with paraffin was not long 
 before another even more expensive lawsuit, costing, 
 it was said, £14,000 to both parties together, in 
 defence of Young's paraffin-oil patent. Almost every 
 chemist of any note in Britain was engaged on 
 one side or the other of the question. Mr Binney, a 
 chemical manufacturer in Manchester, who had pur- 
 chased from Young the right to use his patent, and 
 was consequently an interested party along with him 
 in resisting an alleged violation of it, called on me in 
 June 1860 with much new information on the subject, 
 and proposed that I should be a witness, adding that, 
 
CONCLUSIONS ON THE SUBJECT. 401 
 
 the interests at stake being very great in amount, I 
 had only to mention my own terms (!). I replied 
 that I never had embarked as a witness in any law 
 trial in that way ;" that I must first study the question 
 in order to see whether or not I could conscientiously 
 take it up ; that I had long ceased, however, to under- 
 take such work, because it interfered too much with 
 my proper professional duties ; that I took a very 
 deep interest, nevertheless, in the question between 
 Mr Young and his opponents, and therefore that I 
 would gladly look into the matter and report my 
 opinion — but " without fee or reward." Mr Binney 
 seemed rather surprised by this unusual reception of 
 a tempting invitation ; but he left his documents 
 with me. 
 
 On adding to my previous knowledge the informa- 
 tion thus communicated, I saw, — 1, That Young was 
 not the discoverer of paraffin or paraffin-oil ; 2. Nor 
 of their being obtainable from coal or shale ; 3. Nor 
 of their fitness for giving light ; 4. Nor of the nice 
 adjustment of the heat for obtaining them — namely, 
 a heat just high enough to effect decomposition, and 
 no higher ; 5. That he had not contrived the singular 
 upright retorts, open below under water, to allow 
 constant escape of waste-ash — a construction found to 
 be the most suitable for the manufacture ; 6. That he 
 had made no essential addition or other change in the 
 process of purification. I therefore reported that I 
 could see nothing very substantial on which the 
 patent could be rested, unless there were adequate 
 grounds, by the patent law, — 1. In Mr Young having 
 
 vol. i. 2 c 
 
402 THE PATEXT LAW. 
 
 been the first to ascertain from what mineral the 
 paraffin products may be most largely obtained ; 2. In 
 his having laid down, more categorically than his pre- 
 cursors, the right temperature for obtaining them ; 
 and, 3. In his having been the first to bring paraffin 
 and paraffin-oil into extensive demand, so as to make 
 of them marketable commodities. 
 
 I believe the decision of the Court in Young's 
 favour rested mainly on the last of these grounds — 
 viz., on his having been the first to make the paraffin 
 products marketable. 
 
 If this be really a part of the Patent Law, as I am 
 given to understand that it is, is it sound law ? Is it 
 consistent with reason and justice ? Is it just and 
 reasonable that no other man shall make profit in the 
 same way — that is, by piecing together the disjecta 
 membra of other people's discoveries, and thus 
 bringing into common use a substance well known 
 to science ? As expounded in various decisions by 
 the Bench in England, as well as in Scotland, the 
 Patent Law is to me, and indeed to most people, a 
 profound mystery. According to my understanding 
 of it, a patent is valid for new machinery, or a new 
 chemical process, for making a useful substance pre- 
 viously known or new ; and it is also valid for a com- 
 bination of known machinery, or known chemical 
 processes, by means of which combination a substance 
 previously known as an article of scientific curiosity 
 only becomes a useful, profitable — that is, marketable 
 — commodity ; but the discovery of a new substance, 
 however useful, cannot be patented. When, for ex- 
 
DOES NOT PROTECT A DISCOVERER. 403 
 
 ample, Sertlirner discovered morphia and its salts, or 
 when Pelletier and Caventou discovered quinia and its 
 compounds, they could not have patented these most 
 valuable chemical discoveries. A valid patent might 
 have been got for their process, and to cover any 
 other process which could at the time be devised. 
 But of what use would be such a patent, since to a 
 certainty there would be soon found out a different 
 process, probably simpler, more productive, and there- 
 fore cheaper ? Or, suppose it were discovered that 
 iron is not a simple element, but an alloy mainly of 
 a metal previously unknown — which we may call 
 chalybs — possessing all the inestimable properties of 
 iron, but also, in addition, the only valuable property 
 almost which it has not — the indestructibility of gold 
 under exposure to air, water, and most acids, — the 
 discoverer could not have a valid patent for this 
 discovery. He might patent machinery for making 
 chalybs, or a process for producing it, but not chalybs 
 itself. But beyond question its discovery, both scien- 
 tifically and in the main practically too, is by far the 
 most important novelty ; and in regard to the patent 
 actually available, it would to a certainty be soon 
 rendered useless by the invention of a new process, 
 or different machinery. Is this reason and justice ? 
 Or is it not sheer nonsense ? 
 
404 
 
 CHAPTEE XXII. 
 
 EARLY DATS IN THE SENATUS ACADEMICUS. 
 
 THE PRINCIPAL AND PROFESSORS IN 1822 PRINCIPAL BAIRD 
 
 WILLIAM RITCHIE, D.D. HUGH MEIELEJOHN, D.D. ALEXANDER 
 
 BRUNTON, D.D. PLURALISM IN THE SCOTTISH CHURCH THE 
 
 FACULTY OF ARTS LESLIE PILLANS THE SUCCESSOR OF PRO- 
 FESSOR ALEXANDER CHRISTISON IN THE LATIN CHAIR HIS 
 
 ENTHUSIASM AS A PATRON OF EDUCATION FAILURE OF HIS 
 
 POWERS WITH AGE HIS RESIGNATION CONTRIVED WALLACE 
 
 BABBAGE " CHRISTOPHER NORTH " GREAT AGE ATTAINED BY 
 
 MANY MEMBERS OF SENATUS. 
 
 In summarising the foregoing researches, and tracing 
 some of them to their consequences in a desultory 
 way, they have beguiled me far ahead of time in 
 respect of very different matters, less purely relating 
 to self, and more interesting and important in a pub- 
 lic point of view. On their account I must now 
 return to the early days of my initiation as member 
 of the Senatus Academicus. 
 
 In the beginning of 1822, the Senatus Academicus 
 consisted of only twenty-eight members. There are 
 now thirty-seven. The Principal and three professors 
 constituted the Faculty of Divinity. The Faculty of 
 
PROVOST ELDER. 405 
 
 Arts consisted of seven professors, that of Law of four, 
 and that of Medicine of six. There were, besides, five 
 medical professors, and two in the division of Arts, 
 who had not been at that time incorporated with any 
 Faculty". 
 
 The Principal, as by his commission Primarius Pro- 
 fessor of Theology, though he took no part in theo- 
 logical teaching, was the head of the Faculty of 
 Divinity. The office had been held since 1793 by 
 Dr George Husband Baird, and he discharged its 
 duties till his death in 1840, after no less than forty- 
 seven years' service. Eaised to this elevation at an 
 unusually early age in the case of such an office, — 
 successor to a man of high literary fame, but present- 
 ing in himself no prominence in public estimation as 
 a man of learning, science, or professional distinction, 
 — Baird owed his appointment to the overwhelming 
 influence of Lord Provost Elder. 
 
 Elder had in those days good right to exert in- 
 fluence and show favour in Edinburgh. For at that 
 very period he had shown wonderful ability, energy, 
 and independence of character in putting down in the 
 city by his determination mob-law, and by his affa- 
 bility and persuasion seditious movements in circles 
 above that of the mob, during the perilous and 
 critical days of the French Revolution. It was 
 rather a strong exercise of that claim, however, to 
 exert his paramount influence over the electors, his 
 own Town Council, and induce them to appoint his 
 youthful untried son-in-law Principal of the Univer- 
 sity of Edinburgh in succession to Principal Robert- 
 
406 PRINCIPAL BAIRD. 
 
 son. Nevertheless the appointment turned out not 
 a bad one. 
 
 When I recall to my view Principal Baird from my 
 earliest boyhood onwards — for he was my pastor, as 
 one of the ministers of the High Church — I recollect 
 him as always a portly man, of middle stature ; of 
 great weight, but of strength suitable for carrying it 
 easily ; with a round, plump, benignant countenance ; 
 of kindly disposition, conversing ever with a domi- 
 nant smile on his visage ; a good scholar ; of polished 
 manners and winning address. Consequently he ruled 
 his subjects in the Senatus on the whole with ability 
 and success, though wanting in determination on some 
 rare occasions of conflict and turmoil at our meetings. 
 
 His rule there was so quiet, that no one could well 
 be aware that he had in reserve the magnificent, vol- 
 uminous, commanding bass voice with which he used 
 to fill the vaulted roof and aisles of St Giles's church 
 in his weekly ministrations. But his taste m using 
 it was faulty ; and his composition too often fell into 
 ludicrous bathos for such tones as he called into ser- 
 vice. Imagine, for example, the Principal in St Giles's 
 pidpit discoursing on Christian love, and pronouncing, 
 'pleno ore, that " Love, my Christian brethren, is a 
 compound emotion. But, like all other compound 
 emotions, it has one grand, characteristic, prepon- 
 derating, predominating ingredient. And this one 
 grand, characteristic, preponderating, predominating 
 ingredient is affection for, or motion towards, an 
 object." 
 
 I could furnish from memory several equally apt 
 
HIS PULPIT ORATORY. 407 
 
 specimens of this sort of pulpit eloquence ; but I add 
 only one other instance, which I owe to the recol- 
 lection of my brother John. The Principal had to 
 preach in the High Church a funeral sermon on 
 the death of Lord President Blair of the Court of 
 Session. At the time of the death he was in the 
 neighbourhood of Linlithgow, in attendance at the 
 bedside of his eldest son Tom, a powerful rollicking 
 youth of eighteen, who lay desperately ill, though he 
 eventually recovered, from the effects of a capsize on 
 the hunting-field. In the exordium of the sermon, 
 enunciated in his gravest and grandest tones, the two 
 events were thus mixed up : "I had been watching 
 in the country, my brethren, all day long by the sup- 
 posed deathbed of a darling boy, when in the even- 
 ing I went forth unto the fields to meditate. And I 
 looked, and beheld a man coming from afar — who came 
 like one who was the bearer of tidings. And as he 
 approached I saw that his countenance betokened 
 woe. And I said unto him, ' Friend, thy countenance 
 betokeneth woe.' And he answered and said, ' The 
 Lord President Blair is dead.' " 
 
 I am ashamed to think that I have a far clearer 
 recollection of these odd passages in his sermons than 
 of the good lessons they inculcated. Let me hope 
 that they nevertheless bore good fruit, though the 
 lessons themselves have been forgotten — in like man- 
 ner as the husbandman reaps a harvest, though the 
 seed from which it sprang vanishes for ever. 
 
 Principal Baird, among my seniors in the Senatus 
 Academicus, was a great friend and favourite of mine. 
 
408 REV. DR RITCHIE. 
 
 He was indeed much esteemed in general society in 
 Edinburgh, and highly respected by the members of 
 Senatus. These advantages he owed to kindliness, 
 benignant features, cheerful deportment, deferential 
 manners, conversational power, and a rich fund of 
 anecdote. 
 
 Dr William Ritchie, Professor of Divinity from 1809 
 to 1828, was also our Principal's colleague as one of 
 the ministers of the High Church. He was short in 
 stature, but had a large head and prominent features, 
 also on a large scale, yet finely cut and dignified in 
 expression. In his old age he had in the pulpit the 
 piercing gaze of an eagle ; but he was of mild dis- 
 position and gentle in manners. His sermons were 
 well composed, and delivered with great earnestness, 
 a persuasive voice, and the remains of an Ayrshire 
 intonation. I do not now recollect what led to his 
 students becoming uproarious at a previous period of 
 his professorship ; but insubordination became at last 
 systematic, till a ringleader betrayed himself into some 
 glaring violation of discipline, which brought him as a 
 culprit before the Senatus Academicus. The young 
 divine must, however, have been " a bad one," for he 
 underwent the rare penalty of expulsion from the 
 University — a heavy punishment, which was inflicted 
 once only during my fifty-five years' professorship — 
 for the offence of inveigling a printer, obtaining sur- 
 reptitiously the questions for an examination, and 
 selling copies of their trial-papers to candidates. The 
 punishment of their fellow-student brought the youth- 
 
REV. DR MEIKLEJOHN. 409 
 
 ful theologians to their senses, and Ritchie eventually 
 won respect, and even popularity. 
 
 Dr Hugh Meiklejohn held the chair of Church 
 History from 1799 to 1831, when he was succeeded by 
 Dr Welsh, subsequently one of the leaders and first 
 Moderator of the Free Church. Meiklejohn was a 
 powerfully made man of sis feet four, with a smooth 
 round face that never bore any expression but that of 
 good-humour and contentment. He had no name in 
 general learning or theology. I never heard him preach 
 from the pulpit or lecture from his chair; but his 
 few appearances in the Senatus enabled me to under- 
 stand that the most remarkable ingredient in his lec- 
 tures was an extraordinary monotony of delivery, of 
 which a student gave me this illustration : " In the 
 next century of the Christian era Mr Ritchie I am 
 astonished at you an event occurred that deserves our 
 attentive consideration." In order to appreciate the 
 full force of this passage, it must be spoken, and with- 
 out either pause or modulation of the voice to indicate 
 that the Professor interjected in his narrative an ad- 
 monition to a tricky student. 
 
 Dr Alexander Brunton was appointed in 1813 Pro- 
 fessor of Hebrew and Oriental Languages, and con- 
 tinued in office till 1848, when he resigned owing to 
 old age and infirmity. He succeeded Dr Alexander 
 Murray, a brilliant philologist of the purest water, 
 who knew almost all useful languages, could easily 
 master any, and was indeed one of those extraordin- 
 
410 REV. DR BRUXTOX. 
 
 ary men for whom the great event at the building of 
 Babel seemed scarcely to have existence. But al- 
 though young, he was withered in frame and con- 
 stitution, — 
 
 " A fiery soul, that, working out its way, 
 Fretted the pigmy body to decay, 
 And o'er-informed the tenement of clay ; " — 
 
 and accordingly died of consumption when he had 
 been scarcely a year in office. He had thus no oppor- 
 tunity of proving whether he could teach. That was 
 doubtful. A recluse, drawn from obscurity, and know- 
 ing little or nothing of society, he must have been 
 apt to lose sight of what the majority of his hearers 
 needed, or what most of them could carry away with 
 them from the lecture-room. 
 
 Murray's successor was of a very different stamp. 
 It may be doubted whether Dr Brunton stood high in 
 rank as an oriental scholar. If he did, he at all events 
 never gave the world of Hterature an opportunity of 
 knowing it by his writings. But he was a strong, 
 well-built, portly man, whose countenance was large, 
 flabby, not handsome, but indicative of his being a 
 gentleman and a person of mark. He was courtly in 
 address — in that respect, indeed, somewhat formal 
 both in speech and manner ; eminently sociable never- 
 theless, and esteemed in general society, especially 
 by the ladies, of whom he was also a favourite as their 
 minister. For Dr Brunton was minister of the Tron 
 Church, as well as a University professor. He was a 
 good man and worthy gentleman in all respects. No 
 man more forcibly showed his utter detestation and 
 
PLURALISM. 411 
 
 uncompromising judgment of wrongful or mean con- 
 duct. His taste was refined, in thought, language, 
 and deportment. He was even at one time some- 
 thing of a clerical beau ; and as such he stuck, long 
 after the common herd of dandies had discarded them, 
 to the once fashionable, tight, black stocking -piece 
 pantaloons and gaiters, which were a trying costume 
 for human shanks. 
 
 Dr Brunton was a double-dyed pluralist. Besides 
 being a city minister and College professor, he was 
 also Upper Librarian of the University. In that 
 capacity he claimed and got the only private house 
 included in the scheme of the then new University 
 buildings. But he did not live always there. During 
 six or seven months of every year he occupied a pleas- 
 ant villa, which he had built in the country, about six 
 miles from College, on the north bank of a little tribu- 
 tary of the Esk, near Loanhead. 
 
 Pluralism was at this period (1822) in the ascendant 
 in the Scottish Church. In Edinburgh, besides the 
 office of Principal and the three professorships in 
 Theology, the chairs of Logic and of Ehetoric were 
 held by clergymen, ministers of the city ; and in the 
 other universities of Scotland a similar practice pre- 
 vailed. I never heard a complaint of this conjunction 
 of offices involving any neglect of parochial duties — 
 not even in the case of Brunton, who was non-resident, 
 though indeed not far off, for half the year. But the 
 case was otherwise at other university seats ; and at 
 least one glaring instance to the contrary was said to 
 have created the outcry against the practice, which 
 
412 TORY PLURALISTS. 
 
 gradually enlisted both clergy and laity as its ene- 
 mies, and which ended at last in the General Assem- 
 bly of the Church pronouncing pluralities unscriptural, 
 and damaging to the welfare of the Establishment. 
 But a different cause was at the root of discontent. 
 The Scottish Church had been for some time divided 
 into a moderate and a wild party, of which the latter 
 laid claim to greater sanctimony, and deeper devotion 
 to professional vows and duty. The moderates, how- 
 ever, belonged in a great measure to the Tory side of 
 State pobtics, and the wild party, with few exceptions, 
 to the Whigs. Now the Tories being to all appear- 
 ance firmly seated at the head of Government, and 
 ruling also in the chief town councils of Scotland, it- 
 followed that the moderates alone partook of the good 
 things belonging to university professorships. The 
 opposite party determined to destroy what they could 
 not enjoy. The traditional dog, because it could not 
 have its share in the manger, proceeded to tear it 
 down. They shut their eyes on the lustre which the 
 university prelections of many members of their 
 Church has shed on the Church itself. They shut 
 their eyes to the undeniable fact, that a conspicuous 
 parochial clergyman of their own party, adored by his 
 flock for the faithful discharge of every sacred duty in 
 his'parish, was the able editor of a popular controver- 
 sial journal, besides being practically a successful cul- 
 tivator of music and improver of psalmody. They shut 
 their eyes to the notoriety with which the most popular 
 physicians, surgeons, and accoucheurs, as well as prac- 
 tising members of the Bar and Writers to the Signet, 
 
WHIG AND RADICAL PLTJRALISTS. 413 
 
 had discharged with applause professorial, without pre- 
 judice to professional, duties. The baneful element, 
 indeed, of political party was betrayed ere long, when 
 the wheel of fortune brought the Liberals into political 
 power. In defiance of the fiat of the General Assem- 
 bly, Dr Wallace, minister of the Greyfriars Church, 
 was appointed Professor of Biblical Criticism in the 
 University of Edinburgh ; and his predecessor, Dr 
 Eobert Lee, held not only both of these offices, but 
 received also from the Crown the appointment of 
 Superintendent of the publication of the Bible for 
 Scotland, under the Act which abolished the old Gov- 
 ernment Bible monopoly. Nevertheless not a murmur 
 was raised against these pluralities. But Lee was a 
 Whig, and Wallace a Badical. Hinc (nulla) illce lach- 
 rymce. To a reasonable plurality Conservative Church- 
 men never had any objection ; their Liberal brethren 
 sank theirs whenever it was a political brother they 
 had to deal with. It is to be hoped, however, that 
 this example of defiant masterly inactivity will not be 
 lost, and that pluralities will be allowed to run again 
 in the old channel, unless where that ends in parochial 
 non-residence. The Church of Scotland has too few 
 bonds of connection with learning and philosophy to 
 be warranted in sacrificing any of them. 
 
 In the Faculty of Arts the following changes had 
 occurred since I became a student in that Faculty. 
 The death of Professor Playfair in 1819 had opened 
 the chair of Natural Philosophy to Leslie. The vac- 
 ancy thus arising in the chair of Mathematics was 
 
414 PROFESSOR PILLANS. 
 
 filled by Mr William Wallace, from the Military Col- 
 lege of Sandhurst. In 1820 John Wilson was elected 
 Professor of Moral Philosophy, in succession to Dr 
 Thomas Brown ; and my High School preceptor, 
 Pillans, succeeded my father in the same year as 
 Professor of Latin. 
 
 James Pillans was as much in his natural element 
 in his university chair as when he was rector of our 
 great grammar-school. A finished scholar, of wide 
 general culture, and altogether a gentleman, he was 
 able to vary the examination-work of his classes with 
 able weekly lectures on all sorts of interesting allied 
 subjects. No one could fail to appreciate on the one 
 hand his enthusiasm as a classical scholar and earnest- 
 ness as an instructor, or on the other hand his love 
 for the students, and his desire to benefit and elevate 
 the teaching profession. These qualities, often and 
 prominently applied in practice on public occasions, 
 made him popular and valuable in Edinburgh life 
 during his long incumbency of forty-three years in 
 his professorship. His labours as a patron of educa- 
 tion were by no means confined to the University. 
 All branches of it in Edinburgh and in many other 
 parts of Scotland felt his influence more or less. 
 In particular, along with Mr Leonard Horner, he 
 founded the " School of Arts," for the higher instruc- 
 tion of the artisan classes of the city ; and continued 
 to foster and advance that excellent institution so 
 long as he lived. Having been much in the best 
 society of all ranks, he was a courteous and most 
 agreeable member of our Senatus, as well as of other 
 
ADMONISHES PRINCIPAL LEE. 415 
 
 literary and scientific circles. No one shone more 
 at the convivial meetings of the Senatus and of the 
 Eoyal Society Club, although he was always an 
 abstemious man. We were close friends from first 
 to last ; and when boasting, as he often did, of the 
 multitude of his colleagues whom he had taught, I 
 naturally came in for first mention as his eldest 
 pupil. 
 
 Pillans lost his wife at an early age, and she left 
 him no children. For such a man, a life of solitude 
 at home is an unfavourable circumstance when 
 age steals on. Hence probably it was, that, on 
 approaching his seventieth year, he fell into hypo- 
 chondriasis, which at one time reduced his strength 
 of body and mental vigour to an alarming degree. 
 But after a year or two he threw off entirely this 
 usually pertinacious enemy, and became himself 
 again. I was present a good many years after- 
 wards when he good-humouredly admonished Princi- 
 pal Lee, who also was apt to mope sometimes, and 
 dwell upon the infirmities of his advancing years. 
 On this occasion Lee was bewailing the inevitable 
 decadence of poor humanity with age, and became 
 fluent in detailing his experience, and professing 
 resignation under his infirmities. Pillans, however, 
 interrupted him with a warning that, if he thus 
 insisted constantly on getting old, he would soon 
 become old indeed. " A number of years ago," added 
 he, " I gave way to this feeling, and found that I was 
 fast getting very old. But at length I discovered 
 my mistake ; and positively, Principal, I feel myself 
 
416 PILLANS AT EIGHTY-FOUR. 
 
 a younger and younger man every year." " Ay, 
 ay," replied Lee, " is that the case ? Then have a 
 care, Professor, not to go on long in the same 
 direction, otherwise you will get into your second 
 childhood ! " 
 
 In a few years more Principal Lee's joke became a 
 sad reality. From various quarters representations 
 reached the Senatus and University Court that 
 Pillans's class-work had lost its efficiency; that he, 
 however, as too often is the case in the like circum- 
 stances, was unaware of the inroad of his great age ; 
 and that steps should be taken to save so estimable a 
 man from the inevitable consequences of his blind- 
 ness. At length, in the spring of 1863, the University 
 found themselves obliged to consider the subject 
 formally. It was resolved that he must be induced 
 to resign his professorship ; and, with much reluc- 
 tance on my part, on me as his oldest friend was 
 imposed the ungracious duty of breaking the ice with 
 him. I accepted the task ; but only on condition 
 that I was not to seek an express opportunity, but 
 to wait for a favourable accidental one. 
 
 I had not long to wait. Within a fortnight we 
 met at the first Princes Street Garden promenade for 
 the season. Pillans was in great spirits. He asked 
 me how I had got through the late University 
 session, and observed that he had never finished his 
 own work with more satisfaction to himself, or, he 
 bebeved, — but therein he was much mistaken, — 
 more to the satisfaction of the students. " But," 
 added he, "I have entered upon my eighty-fourth 
 
HE IS LED TO RESIGN". 417 
 
 year, and it will soon be time to think of unyoking 
 the old horse." 
 
 I. " Well, Professor, no one is more entitled to rest 
 than you. When you make up your mind to retire 
 from duty, let me know ; and I shall make your pro- 
 cedure all smooth with the University Court." 
 
 Pillans. " There is the difficulty, however, that I 
 cannot plead infirmity. I am not infirm, but as 
 able for duty as ever." 
 
 /. " Oh ! but, Professor, you misunderstand. The 
 statute does not require you to plead infirmity. Ee- 
 tirement may be on the ground of 'age or infirmity.' 
 
 Pillans. " No ! is it so ? Are you quite sure ? " 
 
 I. " Positively. As secretary of the Court, it is 
 my business to know literally the terms of every 
 section of the Universities Act which relates to the 
 powers of the Court ; and these are the very words — 
 ' age or infirmity.' " 
 
 Pillans. " In that case, assuredly I can have no diffi- 
 culty. But I have observed that when an aged man 
 resigns office, he generally dies soon afterwards." 
 
 I. " For that there may be two good reasons. 
 Either he may not resign till his health is utterly 
 broken down ; or he has no resources for mental 
 occupation in retirement. You labour under neither 
 of these disqualifications." 
 
 Pillans. "No, certainly not. Well, I must take 
 up the question of retirement at once and seriously ; 
 and I shall let you know the result." 
 
 Within fourteen days more he intimated to me his 
 determination to resign his chair. It is singular 
 
 vol. I. 2d 
 
418 PROFESSOR WALLACE. 
 
 how much more easily than appears possible at first, 
 such delicate transactions take a smooth and pleas- 
 ant course when undertaken in this conversational 
 way. On a subsequent occasion I had experience of 
 the danger of resorting in similar circumstances to 
 epistolary correspondence. Professor Pillans survived 
 his resignation only nine months ; but he was a very 
 aged man, and the cause of death had no connection 
 with any of the consequences of retirement. 
 
 William Wallace was a short, muscular, strong, 
 stoutish man, somewhat rugged in frame and coun- 
 tenance, but with the mathematician's broad fore- 
 head and wide-set eyes. He had been for some years 
 Mathematical Professor at Sandhurst Military College, 
 when in 1819, at the age of 51, he was appointed 
 Professor of Mathematics in our University, over the 
 heads of other no less able competitors. He was one 
 of the acknowledged mathematicians of Britain ; but, 
 so far as I am aware, he never published any remark- 
 able investigation connected with his favourite science. 
 He was an able and popular teacher, and occupied 
 the chair of Mathematics for nineteen years. To- 
 wards the close, however, he showed indications of 
 inefficiency, for he lost command of his classes. This 
 was probably owing to the approach of hypochon- 
 driasis, which stole on him slowly, and so reduced him 
 at last, that he was compelled to resign his professor- 
 ship. Nevertheless he recovered bodily activity and 
 mental vigour, survived five years till entering his 
 76th year, and often lamented his precipitancy in 
 
BABBAGE — CHRISTOPHER NORTH. 419 
 
 resigning. Though rough outside, he was a mild, 
 kindly, genial, thorough gentleman in mind and 
 conduct, and much attached to his colleagues, with 
 most of whom, as with myself, he lived on intimate 
 and cordial terms. 
 
 One of his competitors for the chair was Charles 
 Babbage, a much younger man, who became soon 
 afterwards highly celebrated. But the patrons of 
 that day were not men of a stamp to appreciate 
 rising genius. I have often wondered what might 
 have been the life of Babbage and the fortunes of 
 our Mathematical chair, had he (at that time only 
 29) become its occupant. He might at least not 
 have turned out the disappointed, dissatisfied man 
 which his usage in England is said to have made 
 him. 
 
 John Wilson, best known as " Christopher North," 
 was the grandest specimen of the human form I have 
 ever seen, — tall, perfectly symmetrical, massive and 
 majestic, yet agile. When his bust was exhibited 
 about the year 1842 at the Eoyal Academy Exhi- 
 bition in London, I overheard an evidently noble 
 connoisseur exclaim to a companion — " Look here ; 
 this must be Jupiter under some new transforma- 
 tion!" and he aptly described the head and coun- 
 tenance of the bust and the original. In consti- 
 tution Wilson was no less remarkable than in 
 frame. He told me that he had once gone four con- 
 tinuous days without sleep, and that on the fifth 
 evening he did not feel more necessity for it than 
 
420 TWO CONTESTS ! 
 
 usual. He had been in earlier times a partaker — 
 rumour said a frequent leader — in many a protracted 
 orgie ; but no man ever saw John Wilson under 
 alcohol unfit for anything which he could do with- 
 out it. His prowess as an athlete in his youth is 
 extant still in many tales, — such as his following the 
 CumberlaDd foxhounds all day on foot ; his running- 
 leap at Oxford, which is said to have never been 
 matched ; his pugilistic encounter with the butcher- 
 bully of Oxford, who gave in after a brief conflict, 
 exclaiming — " You are either Jack Wilson or the 
 devil ! " 
 
 He was appointed Professor of Moral Philosophy in 
 the stormy days of 1820, when volunteer regiments 
 were re-embodied for protection of the State against 
 mob-law ; when the rebellious taken with arms in 
 their hands were convicted as traitors on the one hand 
 and declared to be martyrs on the other ; when Whig 
 and Tory shunned one another in social gatherings ; 
 and political frenzy had reached the duelling-point — 
 in one terrible instance fatally. The contest for the 
 chair lay between Sir William Hamilton and Wilson 
 Both were acknowledged men of genius, but that of Sir 
 Wilbam was generally allowed to be the more akin of 
 the two to the object of competition. The practical 
 test, however, was the political one. Wilson was a 
 power on the Tory side — Hamilton a comparatively 
 peaceful member of the other party. The political 
 struggle became intense. The Tories, indeed, may 
 claim the credit of having said nothing to disparage 
 Hamilton apart from his Whiggery ; but the abuse 
 lavished by the Whigs on Wilson was appalling. The 
 
DUGALD STEWAET'S CHAGBIN". 421 
 
 Town Council, however, patrons of the chair, were by a 
 large majority Tories to the backbone, not to be moved 
 by any contrivances for the overthrow of so cherished 
 a supporter of their party as John Wilson. For this 
 resolution they were not in want of something to say 
 for themselves. Did not the Professor of Moral Phil- 
 osophy expressly teach Political Economy? Were 
 they to make their University a school of Whiggery ? 
 The chagrin of their opponents at losing the elec- 
 tion was made manifest in various ways. A regret- 
 table instance of it was displayed by no less a man 
 than Dugald Stewart. According to the custom of the 
 day, Stewart, on resigning his chair in 1810, retained 
 the empty name of " conjunct Professor," along with 
 his working partner, Dr Thomas Brown. Brown, like 
 himself, was a Whig ; but when Stewart found him- 
 self tied, even so loosely, with so rampant a Tory as 
 Wilson, he at once formally resigned his nominal 
 office. The tie was a very loose one, which never 
 brought the two into contact except in the University 
 list of the ' Edinburgh Almanac.' It may be feared 
 that the somewhat ostentatious resignation was rather 
 the offspring of feeble spite than the dictate of moral 
 philosophy. But John Wilson had the misfortune 
 not to be one of "All the Talents." Nevertheless I 
 apprehend that, in the history of the Edinburgh chair 
 of Moral Philosophy, the names of Dugald Stewart 
 and John Wilson will be long remembered as par 
 nobile fratrum, though in somewhat different spheres ; 
 and I feel sure that Wilson on his part would not 
 have considered his philosophy, and still less his 
 politics, to have been dimmed, had his too particular 
 
422 LONGEVITY OF PROFESSORS. 
 
 precursor allowed his name to remain on the University 
 lists as conjunct Professor of Moral Philosophy. 
 
 A man of Wilson's known eloquence, wit, command- 
 ing presence, and fiery, though rather unpolished, yet 
 natural delivery, could scarcely fail to captivate his 
 hearers, whatsoever might have been the subject of 
 his professorship. Accordingly he was admired by his 
 students during his whole incumbency. I never heard 
 him either lecture or speak at any of the public assem- 
 bles, where he used to carry the meeting by storm. 
 In truth I was no frequenter of public meetings or 
 platforms till the creation of the General Universit}* 
 Council in 1859 drew me from my University lec- 
 tures, which had previously been my sole public field. 
 My acquaintance with Wilson was confined to social 
 intercourse and his writings. He never published on 
 any branch of the subject of his chair ; and his power- 
 ful writings throw little fight on his views in the 
 region of philosophy, as that term is now generally 
 understood. His social qualities were of the highest 
 order. His flow of language, his cheerfulness, his wit, 
 and his good -humour therewithal, made him the 
 cynosure of every circle which he frequented. 
 
 In the course of giving the foregoing account of 
 the Edinburgh Senatus Academicus, I have been 
 often struck by observing the great age attained by 
 many of its members. This circumstance interested 
 me all the more, because the ordinary schoolmaster 
 race belong to the short-livers of the community. 
 Being engaged about the same time in amending an 
 old inquiry into the longevity and maladies of the 
 
PROFESSORS AGES. 
 
 423 
 
 learned professions, I determined to get a clear in- 
 sight into the longevity of the professoriate as my 
 first step ; and, not without difficulty and extensive 
 search, I have obtained the necessary facts in regard 
 to the seventy-eight members of the Senatus who 
 have died since January 1820, as follows : — 
 
 Name. 
 
 Professorship. 
 
 Ag 
 Entry. 
 
 3 at 
 Death. 
 
 Sur- 
 vival. 
 
 .Life 
 Expec- 
 tation. 
 
 Alison, William P. 1 
 
 Practice of Physic 
 
 30 
 
 69 
 
 39 
 
 33 
 
 Aytoun, William B. 
 
 Rhetoric 
 
 32 
 
 52 
 
 20 
 
 31 
 
 Baird, George H. . 
 
 Principal 
 
 32 
 
 79 
 
 47 
 
 31 
 
 Ballingall, Sir George . 
 
 Military Surgery . 
 
 37 
 
 69 
 
 32 
 
 28 
 
 Bell, A. Montgomery . 
 
 Conveyancing 
 
 46 
 
 56 
 
 10 
 
 22 
 
 Bell, Sir Charles . 
 
 Surgery 
 
 62 
 
 68 
 
 6 
 
 12 
 
 Bell, George Joseph 
 
 Scots Law 
 
 52 
 
 73 
 
 21 
 
 19 
 
 Bennett, John H. . 
 
 Physiology . 
 
 36 
 
 63 
 
 27 
 
 29 
 
 Bishop. Sir Henry R. 2 . 
 
 Music .... 
 
 61 
 
 75 
 
 14 
 
 13 
 
 Blair, Robert 2 
 
 Astronomy . 
 
 34 
 
 76 
 
 42 
 
 30 
 
 Brewster, Sir David 
 
 Principal 
 
 77 
 
 86 
 
 9 
 
 6 
 
 Brown, Andrew . 
 
 Rhetoric 
 
 36 
 
 70 
 
 34 
 
 29 
 
 . Brown, Thomas . 
 
 Moral Philosophy 
 
 32 
 
 42 
 
 10 
 
 31 
 
 Bruce, John . 
 
 Logic .... 
 
 30 
 
 82 
 
 52 
 
 33 
 
 Brunton, Alexander 
 
 Oriental Languages 
 
 41 
 
 82 
 
 41 
 
 25 
 
 Chalmers, Thomas 
 
 Divinity 
 
 48 
 
 67 
 
 19 
 
 21 
 
 Cheape, Douglas . 
 
 Civil Law 
 
 30 
 
 64 
 
 34 
 
 33 
 
 Christison, Alexander . 
 
 Latin .... 
 
 54 
 
 69 
 
 15 
 
 17 
 
 Coventry, Andrew 
 
 Agriculture . 
 
 27 
 
 68 
 
 41 
 
 35 
 
 Crawford, Thomas 
 
 Divinity 
 
 47 
 
 63 
 
 16 
 
 22 
 
 Donaldson, John . 
 
 Music .... 
 
 55 
 
 75 
 
 20 
 
 16 
 
 Dunbar, George . 
 
 Greek .... 
 
 25 
 
 71 
 
 46 
 
 36 
 
 Duncan Andrew, 1st . 
 
 Physiology . 
 
 46 
 
 85 
 
 39 
 
 22 
 
 Duncan, Andrew, 2d 3 . 
 
 Materia Mediea . 
 
 34 
 
 59 
 
 25 
 
 30 
 
 Ferrier, James 
 
 Civil History 
 
 44 
 
 56 
 
 12 
 
 24 
 
 Forbes, James D. 4 
 
 Natural Philosophy 
 
 24 
 
 59 
 
 35 
 
 37 
 
 Forbes, Edward . 
 
 Natural History . 
 
 37 
 
 38 
 
 1 
 
 28 
 
 Goodsir, John 
 
 Anatomy 
 
 32 
 
 53 
 
 21 
 
 31 
 
 Graham, Robert 5 . 
 
 Botany .... 
 
 32 
 
 59 
 
 27 
 
 31 
 
 Gregory, James . 
 
 Practice of Physic 
 
 23 
 
 68 
 
 45 
 
 37 
 
 Gregory, William 6 
 
 Chemistry . 
 
 35 
 
 54 
 
 19 
 
 29 
 
 Hamilton, James . 
 
 Midwifery 
 
 32 
 
 72 
 
 40 
 
 31 
 
 Hamilton, Robert 2 
 
 Public Law . 
 
 37 
 
 72 
 
 35 
 
 28 
 
 Hamilton, Sir Wm. 7 
 
 Logic .... 
 
 33 
 
 68 
 
 35 
 
 31 
 
 Henderson, Thomas 2 . 
 
 Astronomy . 
 
 36 
 
 46 
 
 10 
 
 29 
 
 Henderson, William 
 
 Pathology 
 
 25 
 
 55 
 
 30 
 
 36 
 
 i At first Professor of Medical Jurisprudence. 
 
 2 These seven Professors never delivered a course of lectures on the subject of 
 their chairs in the University. 
 
 3 For first fifteen years Professor of Medical Jurisprudence. 
 
 4 Principal of St Andrews for the last nine years. 
 
 5 Professor at Glasgow at first for two years. 
 
 6 Professor at Aberdeen for the first five years. 
 
 ' Professor of Civil History for the first fifteen years. 
 
424 
 
 PROFESSORS AGES. 
 
 Name. 
 
 Professorship. 
 
 Age 
 
 at 
 
 Sur- 
 vival. 
 
 Life 
 Expec- 
 tation. 
 
 
 
 Entry. 
 
 Death. 
 
 
 Home, James 8 
 
 Practice of Physic 
 
 38 
 
 84 
 
 46 
 
 28 
 
 Hope, Thomas C. 9 
 
 Chemistry 
 
 24 
 
 77 
 
 53 
 
 37 
 
 Hume, David 10 . 
 
 Scots Law 
 
 30 
 
 82 
 
 52 
 
 33 
 
 Innes, Cosmo 
 
 Civil History 
 
 47 
 
 75 
 
 28 
 
 22 
 
 Irving, Alexander n 
 
 Civil Law 
 
 33 
 
 65 
 
 32 
 
 31 
 
 Jameson, Robert . 
 
 Natural History . 
 
 30 
 
 80 
 
 50 
 
 33 
 
 Kelland, Philip . 
 
 Mathematics 
 
 29 
 
 70 
 
 41 
 
 33 
 
 Laycock, Thomas . 
 
 Practice of Physic 
 
 43 
 
 64 
 
 21 
 
 24 
 
 Lee, John 12 . 
 
 Moral Philosophy . 
 
 32 
 
 79 
 
 47 
 
 31 
 
 Lee, Robert . 
 
 Biblical Criticism . 
 
 40 
 
 61 
 
 21 
 
 26 
 
 Leslie, Sir John I3 
 
 Natural Philosophy 
 
 39 
 
 67 
 
 28 
 
 27 
 
 Low, David . 
 
 Agriculture . 
 
 45 
 
 73 
 
 28 
 
 23 
 
 Macdougall, Patrick 
 
 Moral Philosophy 
 
 47 
 
 61 
 
 14 
 
 22 
 
 Meiklejohn, Hugh 
 
 Church History . 
 
 35 
 
 67 
 
 32 
 
 29 
 
 Menzies, Allan 
 
 Conveyancing 
 
 43 
 
 52 
 
 9 
 
 24 
 
 Miller, James 
 
 Surgery 
 
 34 
 
 52 
 
 18 
 
 22 
 
 Moir, George 
 
 Rhetoric 
 
 35 
 
 70 
 
 35 
 
 29 
 
 Monro, Alexander 
 
 Anatomy 
 
 24 
 
 85 
 
 61 
 
 37 
 
 More, John Schank 
 
 Scots Law 
 
 57 
 
 76 
 
 19 
 
 15 
 
 Napier, Macvey . 
 
 Conveyancing 
 
 48 
 
 70 
 
 22 
 
 21 
 
 Pierson, Henry Hugh 2 
 
 Music .... 
 
 29 
 
 57 
 
 28 
 
 33 
 
 Pillans, James 
 
 Latin .... 
 
 42 
 
 86 
 
 44 
 
 25 
 
 Ritchie, David 
 
 Logic .... 
 
 45 
 
 81 
 
 36 
 
 23 
 
 Ritchie, William . 
 
 Divinity 
 
 61 
 
 82 
 
 21 
 
 13 
 
 Robertson, James 
 
 Church History . 
 
 41 
 
 57 
 
 16 
 
 26 
 
 Ross, George 
 
 Scots Law 
 
 47 
 
 49 
 
 2 
 
 22 
 
 Russell, James 
 
 Clinical Surgery . 
 
 51 
 
 84 
 
 33 
 
 19 
 
 Simpson, James Young 
 
 Midwifery 
 
 28 
 
 58 
 
 30 
 
 34 
 
 Skene, George 1 - 1 . 
 
 Civil History 
 
 29 
 
 67 
 
 3S 
 
 33 
 
 Spalding, William 15 . 
 
 Rhetoric 
 
 21 
 
 50 
 
 19 
 
 32 
 
 Stewart, Dugald 16 
 
 Moral Philosophy 
 
 22 
 
 75 
 
 53 
 
 38 
 
 Stevenson, William 
 
 Church History . 
 
 46 
 
 58 
 
 12 
 
 22 
 
 Syme, James 
 
 Clinical Surgery . 
 
 33 
 
 70 
 
 37 
 
 21 
 
 Thomson, John 17 
 
 Pathology 
 
 41 
 
 81 
 
 40 
 
 26 
 
 Thomson, John - . 
 
 Music . . . . 
 
 33 
 
 35 
 
 2 
 
 31 
 
 Traill, Thomas Stuart . 
 
 Medical Jurisprudence . 
 
 50 
 
 80 
 
 30 
 
 20 
 
 Turner, John William . 
 
 Surgery 
 
 41 
 
 46 
 
 5 
 
 26 
 
 Tytler, William Fraser 2 
 
 Civil History 
 
 24 
 
 76 
 
 52 
 
 37 
 
 Wallace, William 
 
 Mathematics 
 
 51 
 
 75 
 
 24 
 
 19 
 
 Welsh, David 18 . 
 
 Church History . 
 
 37 
 
 51 
 
 14 
 
 28 
 
 Wilson, George . 
 
 Technology . 
 
 37 
 
 41 
 
 4 
 
 28 
 
 Wilson, John 
 
 Moral Philosophy 
 
 34 
 
 68 
 
 34 
 
 30 
 
 Total 
 
 
 51S2 
 
 2200 
 
 2119 
 
 8 Professor of Materia Medica for the first twenty-three years. 
 
 9 Professor at Glasgow for the first four years. 
 
 10 During the last sixteen years Baron of Exchequer. 
 
 11 During the last five years Judge of the Court of Session. 
 
 12 Principal for the last nineteen years. Professor at Aberdeen or St Andrews 
 for twelve years before. 
 
 13 Professor of Mathematics at first for fourteen years. 
 
 14 Professor at Glasgow for the last twenty-two years. 
 
 15 Professor at St Andrews for the last fourteen years. 
 
 16 Professor at Aberdeen for the first ten years. 
 
 17 Professor of Military Surgery at first for seventeen years. 
 
 1S Left the University, after thirteen years of professorial life, on the occasion 
 of " The Disruption " in the year 1S43. 
 
AVERAGE EXPECTATION OF LIFE. 
 
 425 
 
 From the foregoing data it may be calculated — 
 1. That the seventy-eight members of the Senatus 
 Academicus who have died since 1820 entered on 
 office at the following ages, viz. : — 
 Not over 25, 
 From 25 to 30, 
 
 10 
 31 
 19 
 
 From 30 to 40, 
 From 40 to 50, 
 From 50 to 60, 
 Above 60, 
 
 2. That the average age attained, one with another, 
 was 66.4 years. 
 
 3. That their average expectation of life at entry 
 being 27.2 years, their actual survival was on an 
 average 28.2 years. 
 
 If, however, we desire to learn the true influence of 
 the professoriate on longevity, four lives should be 
 withdrawn of men whose constitution and health at 
 entry were, to my knowledge, so much under par 
 that no Assurance Company would have accepted 
 them as average lives. Deducting 27 years for the 
 sum of their conjunct survival, and 113 for their 
 conjunct expectation of life, the remaining 74 mem- 
 bers survived on an average 28 years, while their 
 average expectation term was 25.7 years. 
 
 4. That the position of professor in our Univer- 
 sity is eminently favourable to the longevity of those 
 who enter upon it in early life. Of ten who entered 
 between their twenty-fifth and thirtieth years, the 
 average survival has been 40.5 years against 33.3 
 years, their average expectation ; and of eight who 
 
426 AGES OF THE PRINCIPALS. 
 
 entered not later than their twenty-fifth year, the 
 average expectation-term was 37 years, their average 
 survival 47. If there be added to the last denomina- 
 tion my own case, the only possible addition belong- 
 ing to the present membership and to the same 
 category, the expectation - term remains the same ; 
 but the average actual survival of nine lives becomes 
 48.2, and the average age is 70. 
 
 It may be deduced from this scrutiny that there is 
 nothing abstractly inimical to longevity in severe 
 mental exercise and occasional protracted mental 
 strain. The facts mentioned in the last paragraph 
 go far to show that, when begun in early manhood, 
 steady, severe mental exercise is even favourable to 
 longevity in a remarkable degree. 
 
 Still more remarkable is the longevity of our Prin- 
 cipals. In the University of Edinburgh Dr Eobert- 
 son died at 72, after 31 years' service; Baird died at 
 79, after 46 years' service; Lee died at 79, after 31 
 years' service ; Sir D. Brewster died at 86, after 9 
 years of service, his age at entry having been no less 
 than 77. 
 
 For greater security, I have obtained the ages at 
 entry and death of all the Principals of the four 
 Universities of Scotland who have died since 1820 — ■ 
 fourteen in number — as follows : — 
 
THEIR EXPECTATION OF LIFE. 
 
 42' 
 
 Universities. 
 
 Principals. 
 
 Age at 
 Entry. Death. 
 
 Sur- 
 vival. 
 
 Lite 
 Expec- 
 tation. 
 
 Edinburgh 
 
 Glasgow 
 
 Aberdeen 
 
 St Andrews 
 
 
 
 Baird . 
 Lee 
 
 Brewster * 
 Taylor . 
 Maofarlane 
 Barclay 
 Jack 
 Brown . 
 Dewar . 
 Campbell 
 Nicoll . 
 Haldane 
 Hunter . 
 Forbes . 
 
 
 
 
 32 
 57 
 56 
 59 
 51 
 65 
 31 
 38 
 49 
 45 
 49 
 49 
 89 
 50 
 
 79 
 79 
 86 
 79 
 86 
 80 
 85 
 75 
 84 
 66 
 65 
 83 
 91 
 59 
 
 47 
 22 
 30 
 20 
 35 
 15 
 54 
 37 
 35 
 21 
 16 
 34 
 2 
 9 
 
 32 
 15 
 16 
 14 
 19 
 11 
 32 
 28 
 20 
 23 
 20 
 20 
 2 
 20 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 720 
 
 1097 
 
 377 
 
 272 
 
 1 Principal at St Andrews before being at Edinburgh. 
 
 Hence the average age of the fourteen Principals 
 was 50 at entry on office, 78.35 at death; their 
 average survival was 28.0, while their expectation of 
 life, according to the most approved tables, was only 
 19.43 ; and consequently they survived their expecta- 
 tion-term, one with another, 8.57 years — that is, 44.1 
 per cent. 
 
 But one of the fourteen, James Forbes, was an un- 
 insurable life when he entered on office ; for, indeed, 
 he was transferred from the laborious post of Pro- 
 fessor of Natural Philosophy in Edinburgh to the 
 light duties of a St Andrews Principal, on account 
 of his irretrievably broken health. Deducting his 
 case, the remaining thirteen attained on an average 
 very nearly the age of 80 (79.84) ; their survival was 
 28.3 years instead of 19.40, their expectation-term, 
 and consequently they outlived that term by 8.9 
 years, or 46 per cent. 
 
428 JAMES FORBES XO EXCEPTION. 
 
 As for James Forbes — having been for many years 
 bis pbysician, I knew bis health and constitution ; 
 and I am sure that no Assurance Company would 
 have conceded to him, at entry as Principal, more 
 than five years of probable survival. Nevertheless 
 he survived nine years — an advantage to be ascribed, 
 not without justice, to the moderate business, gentle 
 cares, and agreeable occupations of the principality of 
 a small university like that of St Andrews. 
 
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