Mr. Robert Liston, the surgeon, was as playful in private as a gigantic kitten, and liked to hear his pretty daughter call him silly. He gave one the impression that he could do everything, and knew nothing. It was not very incorrect; his operating powers were due to a wrist with which he could have screwed off a man’s head in the days of decapitation.
Dr. Mark Latham had the knowing head and look peculiar to those of his name. His face was aquiline in its totality, and, like a bird, he thought on both sides of his head, turning it first on one side, then on another, instead of on the simultaneous mean. He received one very heartily; if it were about a consultation the tone was maintained, but if not, he suddenly appeared busy.
Mr. Stone was a delightful family practitioner, with no end of good recipes for the nursery or lady’s chamber. He was a very friendly, considerate man, well up to every mark; and, being already confided in by all, he was without pretension.
Sir Thomas Watson was what may be called a learned physician. He had a nice, clever, collegiate face, quite gentlemanly and good looking, with a show of languor over his town practice, but very bright when summoned to the country, as if the air did him good. He was quite the head of his profession.
Dr. Richard Bright bore a name that covered his entire nature. His countenance and his mind seemed one: the acuteness, humour, brightness of his inner character lost nothing in flowing to his face, and even hands. His words were so exactly like his thoughts, that on our hearing them they became thoughts again, losing nothing in their passage; their self-conservation of force being unfailing.
Dr. J. A. Wilson (he sometimes latinized his initials to Maxilla) was a man to know, to esteem, to honour. He must have improved many a man’s memory to this day, for he was one who could never be forgotten.
Benjamin Travers was a great thinker, and a perfect surgeon. It is difficult to describe him personally, because he was so gentlemanly, so handsome, of such noble bearing.
One may say the same of Sir William Lawrence, his aspect and his work were so classic. Besides, to describe very great men, like him, is an affront to all the rest.
Sir Henry Acland, an Oxford professor, I knew in my time. He had all the graces peculiar to his family. How delightful it must be for a physician, like him, to pass through life in learned elegance and successful ease!