Too soon, alas! after him, we were shocked by the almost sudden removal of the accomplished and genial Jeaffreson, endeared to his brethren by those solid endowments which mark and govern the high minded practitioner and amiable gentleman—no less than to the public by those qualities that are inherent in a warm, kindly, and generous nature. And, what then shall we say of our dear friend, Henry Blenkarne, so recently carried to his rest. Who can ever forget his pure and simple nature, his spotless life, and those endearing virtues which attached him so closely to all whose privilege it was to enjoy his friendship—one of Nature’s gentlemen, delicate and considerate of the feelings of others, generous to the poor at the sacrifice of his valuable life, ready at all seasons to give his time for the promotion of any and every benevolent scheme in connexion with our calling; we shall long mourn over the good old man. As I stood by and saw his remains committed to the ground but the other day, my mind reverted to the other honoured members I have mentioned, and I felt that one and all had realized and fulfilled to the letter the following monition of Bacon:—
“I hold every man a debtor to his profession, from the which as men of course do seek to receive countenance and profit, so ought they of duty to endeavour themselves, by way of amends, to be a help and ornament thereunto.”
I now beg permission to draw the curtain. I have laid before you, with but little skill, some rapid sketches of our illustrious predecessors. I have shown how worthily they have fulfilled their mission; and, having approached the advent of that great man, to whose memory we dedicate this evening, I make my bow and retire, first thanking you for the attention you have accorded to my dull recital. I pause now because I can add nothing to your knowledge of the character and labours of John Hunter. His patience under such difficulties as would have destroyed an ordinary worker, and his sublime indifference to personal comfort and advantage when the interest of that science, which he so well loved was in question—are “familiar in your ears as household words.”
But, whilst we honour him by these periodical meetings, and by the discussion of subjects the elaboration of which formed the happiness of his life, it is only in the great museum, founded by his energy, that the grandeur of his character can be felt.
In that hallowed path, in which he delighted to tread, the mantle of his genius has fallen upon one who, with a kindred love, aided by the marvellous instinct of his own original mind, still follows out the investigations of the great author, adding each day something to the knowledge[knowledge] which went before, and still turning over some new page of the book of Nature, wherein the finger of God has written, in characters hitherto undeciphered, fresh evidences of His glorious infinity. Under the auspices of our honorary member, Professor Owen, we gaze and admire.
THE END.
Footnotes
[1]. The library destroyed by the Caliph Omar, was situated in the temple of Serapis, and consisted of 300,000 volumes; in addition to which there existed in the Bruchion quarter of the city of Alexandria, a second collection of 400,000 books, which was accidentally lost by fire during the war with Julius Cæsar.
Alexandria (founded 332 B.C.) stood in an intermediate position between the east and west, and united the commerce of Europe, Aralia, and India; here came first into collision the Greek and Oriental mind; here the Septuagint translation of the Old Testament was written; and the collections formed by the ancient kings of Egypt were rapidly enriched and enlarged by the interchange of ideas with the Greek philosophers.