much reflection convinced him to be both just and reasonable. In looking back upon my departed friend's life and tracing its course, I lay much stress on this proud motive of action, for it accounts for the extraordinary efforts he made from the very commencement of his studies, and his perseverance in a system of mental exertion apparently excessive and uncalled for. Nothing was light or unimportant in his estimation; he brought his whole mind to bear upon everything he was engaged in; what to many of his fellow-students was simple and easy, to him was a stern task; he would receive nothing superficially; but, subjecting all he heard and saw to a severe scrutiny, he excluded from his mind everything that was valueless. To facilitate this mastery of every subject, he confined himself, as much as possible, to a single department at a time. Many of his contemporaries had a far wider and more general knowledge of the profession than he had, but it formed no part of his system to hurry through the schools, and the object he had in view needed a severer application. At times, so laboured appeared his progress, and so difficult his attainment of general information, that many were led to question the existence of those talents of which there was no display, and to doubt the opinions of those intimate friends who so highly appreciated and extolled them. There was always an air of abstraction about him which favoured the doubt. He was exceedingly absent, and failed to catch, readily, the passing current of conversation which frequently conveyed much useful intelligence, professional and otherwise. He was, too, a dull hand at a joke,” asking, amidst the loud laughter of others, some grave question of explana 66 ness. tion, which ensured him a hearty quizzing for his obtuseThis did not arise from any deficiency of the sense of humour, or the soul of wit, both of which he possessed richly when he chose to draw upon them for amusement, as many of his letters to myself abundantly testify, but from an inaptitude for the frivolities that flashed about him. His thoughts were otherwise engaged; his mind was too ponderous for these flitting vanities, and disinclined to rouse itself to entertain them. He had, moreover, made it a rule, on which he uniformly acted, never to discuss any subject with which he was not deeply and thoroughly acquainted-a practice which imposed silence upon him amidst the forward volubility of others, much his inferiors in acquirement. He was so fond of reducing all things to first principles, that I often told him he ought to have lived in the Academic Groves, so much had he the spirit of the old heathen philosophers; he would, indeed, have proved the apt pupil of a Socrates or a Plato; but herein lay the basis of all his future success. In his transactions with the world, as well as in professional pursuits, the same system regulated his conduct, and formed a character remarkable for its consistency and equality under any variety of circumstances. He was slow in forming a friendship, but once formed, it was stable and undeviating. I remember an instance where he had met with the most ungrateful returns from one who owed him much gratitude and was, in many ways, indebted to him. No change was perceptible in his conduct towards him; he was not insensible of his friend's neglect, but he palliated it, excused it, and never uttered a harsh word of reprehension, but rather sought to win back by the forgiving kindness of his manner, a friend who had so ungraciously treated him. Other friends of the individual alluded to forsook him as unworthy of their regard; for few were blessed with the faithful excellences of my departed friend. There was not, I think, anything worthy of particular notice in the plan of study he pursued. He took the usual course, attending the same lectures as his fellowstudents. It was during his third year of residence that he first turned his attention to the collection of drawings of morbid anatomy. Guided by the same logical principles which always influenced him, he saw that, to attain a perfect knowledge of disease, he must lay the foundation in an exact acquaintance with the structural changes produced by it. A course of lectures delivered about this time by Dr. Thomson, which he attended, and where he had the opportunity of seeing a collection of, perhaps, the largest and best-executed drawings of morbid anatomy then extant, strengthened him in his resolution. to pursue it as a specially important branch of medical education. His talents as a draftsman and colorist enabled him to do so with facility, and to publish, at a future period, the valuable results of his early labours. About this time, also, the stethoscope was first introduced into the British schools. It was lightly regarded by most, and ridiculed by many. Hope, with his usual far-sightedness, foresaw in it an instrument of such utility in the diagnosis of pectoral disease, that he at once advocated its use and strenuously insisted on its merits. Notwithstanding the indifference with which it was treated at that time by some, even of the Professors of the College, 66 he from the first declared that it could not fail, ere long, to be universally regarded as an essential means of detecting thoracic disease; often saying, that it behoved every student to make himself master of it now, lest by-and-by he should find himself alone in his ignorance." So fully was he convinced of its importance, that he, without hesitation, laid aside the subject which he had selected for his thesis, and on which he had expended much labour and time, and decided on making the stethoscope, and its application to the discovery of diseases of the heart and large blood vessels, the subject of his inaugural dissertation. He now found a new encouragement towards that great end which (as I said before) he always held in view, eminence in London. He often spoke of the promising prospect which a good stethoscopist would have before him if he settled in London, and the advantages he would enjoy above others imperfectly acquainted with the use of the instrument. To any objection I might raise, by saying, "that time was necessary to introduce it, that professional fashion, ever slow to changes, and the dislike of patients to its use, were to be combated, and could only gradually be overcome," he always answered-" Depend upon it, George, the intrinsic value of the instrument is so great and self-evident, that in a very short time you will no more see a physician without his stethoscope, than you would fifty years ago have seen him without his gold-headed cane, or a major without his boots." How far he was right in his opinion, has been sufficiently shewn by his success and eminence in London. He lived to verify his prediction and reaped richly the rewards of his sagacity. The life of an active student admits of little leisure for social recreation. Hope knew this, and, as he told me, purposely declined letters of introduction to many families in Edinburgh, through whose civilities he feared he might be led into a too great dissipation of time and mind. Saturday was, at college, permitted by common consent, as a partial day of rest; the only recognised holiday of the week; on it he generally spent the evening at Professor Monro's, either at his residence in George Street, or, during the summer, at his beautifully-situated country seat, Craig Lockhart; here he was always an acceptable visitor. The Doctor respected him for his talents, which he often employed in his service by procuring from Hope drawings of various morbid specimens for his museum. During the vacations, he joined with two or three friends in tours through various parts of the highlands, where he completely unbent his mind, and entered into the full enjoyment of these pedestrian excursions. His rod and sketch book were his constant companions. As an angler he was the most expert I ever met, and was thoroughly in love with the craft. From a boy he was always an enthusiast in the sport, and maintained the dignity of the science (for so it became in his hands), by constantly enumerating the host of worthies who were its devotees, and clenching its defence by an axiom which he heard Sir Francis Chantrey once advance at my father's table," that every man of genius was born a fly-fisher." In sketching from nature he was very successful, filling his portfolio with beautiful drawings of every scene which presented subjects worthy of his pencil. In addition to these sources of amusement, he was always provided with a pocket edition of some of the standard classics. I have |