Whilst he was thus waiting for the opportunity of a vessel to transport him across the Atlantic, he was solicited by the medical gentlemen at Liverpool, to unpack his apparatus, and give a public course of lectures on chemistry and experimental philosophy. At all times desirous of diffusing the knowledge he had acquired, and eager to fulfil the wishes of his friends, he complied with their request, and entered upon a plan, which in the end completely overturned the scheme he had for several months been contemplating with such ardent hopes of happiness and prosperity. No sooner had he been prevailed upon, than he set about getting every thing ready for his lectures, and after a single week's preparation; he commenced his course. The deep interest he took in his subject, the anxiety he showed to make himself understood, and the enthusiastic hope he constantly expressed of the advancement of science, had a remarkable effect upon his audience; and his lectures were received with the most flattering marks of attention, and excited the most general applause and satisfaction. In a short time, he received a pressing invitation from the most eminent characters at Manchester, to repeat his course in that town. This invitation he accepted, and, encouraged by the success he had just experienced, he postponed the idea of leaving his country. He arrived at Manchester about the middle of January 1796, and began his lectures on the 22nd of that month. Before his arrival, not less than sixty subscribers had put down their names, the more strongly to induce him to comply with their wishes, and many more had promised to do it, as soon as his proposals were published. Notwithstanding he was thus led to expect a large audience, and had procured apartments, which he imagined would be sufficiently spacious for their reception, he was obliged, for want of room, to change them not less than three times during one course. With such success did the career of his philosophical teaching begin, and with such extreme attention and respect was he every where received, that he used afterwards to mention this period, as not only the most profitable, but the most happy of his life. On the 24th of February, his wife was brought to bed of a daughter, the eldest of the two orphans who have now to lament the death of so valuable a parent, to deplore the loss of that independence which his exertions were certain to have raised them, and to rely on a generous public for protection, in testimony of the virtues and merit of their father.

After this time Dr. Garnett repeated nearly the same course of lectures at Warrington and at Lancaster; to both which places he was followed by the same success.

Whilst he was in this manner exerting himself for the general diffusion of knowledge, his fame spread with the delight and instruction he had every where communicated to his audience. The inhabitants of Birmingham wished to have the advantage of his lectures; and he also received a most pressing invitation from Dublin, where a very large subscription had already been formed. It was his intention to have accepted of the latter invitation, but previous to his departure for Ireland (from whence he had even yet some thoughts of emigrating to America) he was informed of the vacancy of the professorship in Anderson's Institution, at Glasgow, by his friend the late Dr. Easton of Manchester, who strongly urged him to become a candidate. As this situation must inevitably destroy all his future prospects, he for a long time hesitated; but Dr. Easton having informed the Managers of the Institution, that there was a possibility of their obtaining a professor, so eminently qualified as Dr. Garnett, they, after making further inquiry concerning him, offered it to him in so handsome a manner, that, although the situation was by no means likely to be productive of so much emolument as the plan of life he had lately been pursuing, he yielded to their proposal, strengthened as it was by the earnest solicitation of Mrs. Garnett, who felt considerable apprehension at the thoughts of going to America, and consented to accept of the professorship.

He began his lectures at Glasgow in November 1796, and a short account of them may be found in his Tour to the Highlands, vol. ii. p. 196. The peculiar clearness with which he was wont to explain the most difficult parts of science, together with the simplicity of the terms he employed, rendered his lectures particularly acceptable to those who had not been initiated in the technical terms, generally used on such occasions. Every thing he delivered might easily be understood by those who had not previously attended to the subject; and of consequence, all who had been disgusted, or frightened by the difficulties they had before met with, or imagined, were eager to receive his instructions; and the audience he obtained, was much more numerous, than either the trustees, or himself, had deemed probable.

When the session was completed, he repaired to Liverpool for the purpose of fulfilling a promise he had formerly given to his friends, to repeat his course of lectures in that town. Mrs. Garnett, in the mean time, remained at Kirkby Lonsdale, where he joined her as soon as his lectures were finished. He spent the latter part of the summer chiefly in botanical pursuits, and returned to Glasgow in the autumn, when he made known his intention of practising as a physician. Fortune continued to favour him, his reputation increased, and he rapidly advanced towards the first professional situation in Glasgow.

In July 1798, he began his Tour to the Highlands, an account of which he published in 1800, and having returned to his duties in the Institution, the success of his lectures suffered no interruption, but whilst he was reaping the benefit due to his industry and his talents, his happiness received a blow, which was irrecoverable, by the loss of his wife, who died in child birth, December the 25th 1798: the infant was preserved. The sentiments of Dr. Garnett on this occasion will be best expressed in his own words, in a letter to Mr. Ort, of Bury in Lancashire.

"Glasgow, January 1st. 1799.

"Oh my dear cousin, little did I expect that I should begin the new year with telling you that I am now deprived of all earthly comforts; yes, the dear companion of my studies, the friend of my heart, the partner of my bosom, is now a piece of cold clay. The senseless earth is closed on that form which was so lately animated by every virtue; and whose only wish was to make me happy.

"Is there any thing, which can now afford me any consolation? Yes, she is not lost, but gone before: but still it is hard to have all our schemes of happiness wrecked: when our bark was within sight of port, when we were promising ourselves more than common felicity, it struck upon a rock: my only treasure went to the bottom, and I am cast ashore, friendless, and deprived of every comfort. My poor, dear love had been as well as usual during the two or three last months, and even on the dreadful evening (christmas eve) she spoke with pleasure of the approaching event. My spirits were elevated to so uncommon a pitch, by the birth of a lovely daughter, that they were by no means prepared for the succeeding scene; and they have been so overwhelmed, that I sometimes hope it may be a dream, out of which I wish to awake. The little infant is well, and I have called it Catharine, a name which must ever be dear to me, and which I wish to be able to apply to some object whom I love; for though it caused the death of my hopes, it is dear to me, as being the last precious relic of her, whom every body who knew her esteemed, and I loved. I must now bid adieu to every comfort, and live only for the sweet babes. Oh! 'tis hard, very hard. "THOMAS GARNETT." "To Mr. Ort, Bury, Lancashire.

The affliction Dr. Garnett experienced on the death of his wife, was never recovered. On all occasions of anxiety which were multiplied upon him, by reason of his exquisite sensibility, he longed for the consolation her society used to afford him; and although his susceptibility to the action of external causes, would not allow him to remain in continued and unalterable gloom and melancholy, yet in solitude, and on the slightest accident, his distress returned, and he despaired of the possibility of ever retrieving his lost happiness. Had it not been for his philosophical pursuits, and the duties of his extensive practice, which kept him almost constantly engaged, it may be doubted, whether he could at this time have sustained the load of sorrow with which he was oppressed.