Such is surely a suicidal as well as narrow-minded policy, because it tends to drive young men of high talent and promise, who might otherwise be disposed to seek medicine as a profession, into some other walk of life. Every encouragement, on the contrary, ought to be held out to the flower of the rising generation to enter into the medical profession as a study, since the health, and, consequently, the happiness of the community are entrusted, under Providence, to their keeping. One would suppose, indeed, that if no higher motive was the actuating principle, a selfish regard for their own well-being would induce those in power to render

it worth the while of youths of genius and extensive acquirements to devote themselves to this noble pursuit. For this purpose some posts of distinction should be put aside, or new ones created, and appropriated to the professors of medicine; and in that case it would soon be discovered, that a preliminary scientific education, and the knowledge acquired in the intimate intercourse with society, enjoyed by the medical practitioner, by no means disqualified him to undertake places of trust, and to execute delicate and important services.

Another complaint, that the profession might justly make, is, the want of any representatives of their interest in the lower House of Parliament. Both in the Lords and Commons assembly the law possesses a large and even overwhelming force; and although the constitution of the country precludes the ministers of religion from holding seats in the Commons, yet that want is well supplied by the talent and eloquence of the members sent by the universities of Oxford and Cambridge into that chamber; and the omission is, moreover, fully and excellently made up by the number, learning, and energy of the bishops having seats in the House of Peers; while the professors of medicine are altogether without any one to stand up in their behalf. The consequence of this is, that if a medical question is started, or one having reference to sanitary measures—which, indeed, are interesting to every individual in the state, inasmuch as his own health and safety may be involved in them—it is either shelved on the first decent opportunity, or discussed languidly in a thin house. If the University of London, the Royal Colleges of Physicians and Surgeons, and some of the northern Universities, had the privilege granted them of sending

representatives to the Legislature, the addition might be found to be as much for the benefit of the nation as for the honour and advantage of the profession itself. [157]

About this time, finding that my friend the Mir Shahamet Ali intended to visit the north of England, I availed myself of the opportunity, and joined him in the excursion. This gentleman was the most remarkable stranger I have met with in England; he was a native of Delhi, where he received his education. The Mir was a most intelligent and learned man, and had travelled much in Bengal with Sir Claude Wade, whom he had accompanied to the Punjaub and Bahawalpur, when that gentleman went there for the purpose of negotiating with those States for throwing open the navigation of the Indus and the Sutledge. The Mir was afterwards sent with presents from the English Government to the Court of Lahore, and he subsequently published, in English, two books, the “Sikhs and Affghans,” and a “History of Bahawalpur,” besides one or two little pamphlets on Indian affairs; he also long held the situation of Mir Moonshee in the Upper Provinces.

Perhaps I may here be allowed to give an anecdote illustrative of London haut ton and society, showing how scrupulous they are, and how a stranger may inadvertently fall into disrepute; and also, how easily a

foreigner, by slight mistakes, may suffer severe consequences. I once, mistaking the designation of my friend, the Mir, introduced him at the houses of some religious fashionables as a prince, supposing the term Mir, in Hindustani, to be equivalent to the word Emir in Arabic. Some person chose to bestow this title on myself instead of my friend, and I was supposed to be the prince. An intimate friend afterwards told me that I had been accused of introducing myself as a prince. Thus a report, arising from a mistake of which I was wholly unconscious, was for some time circulated to my prejudice.

But return to the Mir, he came to this country to obtain a better insight into European manners and society. Her Majesty the Queen of England was graciously pleased to receive him, and he was presented at court by the Earl of Shaftesbury. General Duncan Macleod, of the Indian army, whose engineering talents have been so justly admired, as exemplified in the splendid palace erected under his sole direction for the Nawab of Moorshedabad, also a friend of the Mir, was present. During this presentation, a very pleasing incident occurred, illustrative to the latter of the urbanity of Scottish aristocracy. Being very much struck with the splendid Highland costume of one of the gentlemen present, the Mir wished to be allowed to inspect it nearer, when General Macleod, with characteristic amiability, apologetically explained to the object of his admiration how much his protégé, the Oriental, was struck with his appearance. The chieftain very good-naturedly invited the Mir to approach, adding, “Perhaps you would like to see a chieftain’s wife also,” and forthwith introduced him to his lady, the Duchess of ---.

As may readily be conceived, it was most agreeable for me to travel about with such a companion as the Mir. We visited all the manufacturing districts together. The Mir was indefatigable, active, inquiring, and desirous of obtaining knowledge in every acquirable shape. We proceeded to Birmingham, where we were received by our consul, Mr. Collis, and entertained at his house during our sojourn; he shewed us whatever sights in that wonderful town he deemed at all interesting to us. The various places we travelled through are so familiar to my English readers, that to relate them all, would prove tedious. Suffice it that we got on very well together, till we were one day leaving Sheffield for Edinburgh. At Sheffield we had nearly exhausted our funds in purchasing cutlery, etc., so that when we came to the railway-station we had not enough ready money between us to pay our fare onward to Edinburgh. We were, however, bearers of letters of credit, and stating our circumstances to the head booking-clerk, he kindly consented to allow us to proceed by the train on condition that we paid on arriving in Edinburgh. Accordingly we took our seats in the carriage, and began to condole with each other on the awkwardness of our position. There was one other person beside ourselves in the carriage, and this gentleman, though a perfect stranger, kindly came forward and pressed upon us the use of his purse. After some little altercation and hesitation, Mir Shahamet Ali and myself agreed to borrow five pounds of this worthy stranger, on condition that we should be permitted to return it immediately after our arrival at Edinburgh. Our promise to pay was, as the reader may imagine, promptly met. This stranger proved to be Mr. Walker, the celebrated engineer, of Great George-street, and on

returning from London to Scotland, I called to thank this estimable gentleman for his unsolicited kindness to myself and friend; and through this slight incident, I still enjoy his friendship and acquaintance.