I was in London more or less until I reached my 21st year (1830); by that time the hospital and its teachers had gone stale, when the idea occurred to me to visit the Scotch Universities. I took my way to Edinburgh by steamer, and very pleasant the voyage was. There were pretty young ladies on board, who soon became as friendly as if they had been relations. But not to be forgotten was a gentleman who had wit and vivacity; I remember his name quite well. He told me that he was crossing to get out of the way of his creditors for a little time, and to visit his kinsfolk. He looked to me about 45 years old, when he told me, as a sort of joke, that he was a classical tutor in London and had been spending too much money, adding, with self-apologetic glee, “You see what it is to be a young fellow!” I did not know at the moment that he had been spending five pounds of mine, nevertheless such proved to be the case before we parted, for that was the trifle he—“by-the-bye”—wanted of me for a few days, his days very much resembling the six notable ones during which the world was created. He took me to Ambrose’s Hotel, a very comfortable one, the scene of Wilson’s drunken Noctes AmbrosianÆ, and we had a double-bedded room. I was in bed first and it was left to him to extinguish the light, which he did by blowing it out. It was a candle of tallow, and, to my disgust, the stench of it soon filled the room. I protested vehemently against his proceeding, when his reply was, “You don’t know now what you may get to like in time!”

I acquired the friendly acquaintance, at Edinburgh, of Dr. Greville, the eminent author of a work on the Cryptogamia; he was married to an Eden, the sister of Mrs. Northmore of Cleve, whose husband I have already spoken of, a noble old Devonshire squire.

Dr. Robert Knox was in his glory in those days, the greatest anatomist of the time, whose splendid intellect, in opposition to Lyell and the rest, foresaw that we had only to abide scientific progress to discover that man belonged to an early period of time.

I am sorry that I never saw Dr. Knox; he was an enthusiast in his devotion to anatomical science; it was his calling and his hobby in one. A dentist once remarked to me that every man should have a hobby besides his profession, and smilingly admitted that his was “making money.” I have observed that surgery has engaged many enthusiasts in its pursuit—anatomy and pathology may be added; but I do not remember a physician of whom this could be so flatteringly said, unless it were Sydenham, a true devotÉe. But formerly the practice of medicine was in the dark: not altogether so now, since the introduction of physical and chemical diagnosis, the work of Laenec and Bright. It is no want of enthusiasm in character itself; it is not so very long since all the science of the country was carried out and sustained by physicians.

At Aberdeen I enriched myself with the acquaintance of Principal Jack, who showed me many attentions—not the least of which was that of introducing me to his charming wife and daughter. Our acquaintance did not then cease, but continued for some years.

I visited St. Andrews. What distressed me there, was to see a large college building without windows or roof, announcing itself to be a ruin. It is true the university is very old, but a seat of learning ought to last for ever, and not be allowed to become a mere memorial of some intellectual famine.

I then went to Glasgow, where Dr. Hooker was the professor of botany in the university, and where Dr. Badham—a scholarly gentleman—was the professor of physic, an appointment which, as I understood, was in the gift of the London College of Physicians. Except Dr. Thompson, who had the chair of chemistry, the other professors were of no account.

The college, a double quadrangle, stood in the middle of the town, where it was established by an edict of the Pope in one of the middle ages. It was a quaint old building, a credit to the learning of the city: the present building being more a credit to its wealth. The ancient structure, I presume, was pulled down and the site disposed of.