that he, Leverett, "scornfully slighteth his Majesty's sacred gift of healing (by his blessed hand) that disease commonly called the King's evil, in comparison to his cure; to the dishonour of his Majesty amongst his subjects." It would be difficult now to discover why "stroaking" should not be as good as "touching." With all its triumphs, learning has much to look back upon in its annals, from which it should derive lessons of toleration and humility.

We have neither space nor desire to enter into the question of the disputes in which the College has been engaged; it would be much better to let them be forgotten in the oblivion towards which they are tending. How fiercely these controversies have raged may be judged from the fact that between 1665 and 1810 above fifty pamphlets are known to have been published. Many amusing passages might be culled from this overwhelming mass of disputation. From the "Elegy on the Death of Thomas Saffold" it appears that the Physicians attacked the empirics with their pen as well as with their Acts of Parliament. "Lament, ye damsels of our London city,

Poor unprovided girls, though fair and witty;
Who masked would to his house in couples come

To understand your matrimonial doom;

To know what kind of men you were to marry,
And how long time, poor things, you were to tarry.

Your oracle is silent: none can tell

On whom his astrologic mantle fell.

For he when sick refused the Doctor's aid,

And only to his pills devotion paid;

Yet it was surely a most sad disaster,

The saucy pills at last should kill their master."

The "Reasons humbly offered by the Company exercising the trade and mystery of Upholder (or Undertaker), against part of the Bill for the better viewing, searching, and examining Drugs and Medicines" (in 1724), humorously ridicules the opposition made to the passing of the act in question. We have only space for the following extract:-" As the Company have an undisputed right in, and upon, the bodies of all and every the subjects of this kingdom, we conceive the passing of this bill, though not absolutely depriving them of their said right, might keep them out of possession by unreasonable delay, to the great detriment of that Company and their numerous families. We hope it will be considered, that there are multitudes of necessitous heirs and penurious parents, persons in pinching circumstances with numerous families of children, wives that have lived long, many robust aged women with great jointures, elder brothers with bad understandings, single heirs of great estates, whereby the collateral line is for ever excluded, reversionary patents and reversionary promises of preferment, leases upon single lives, and play debts upon joint lives; and that the persons so aggrieved have no hope of being speedily relieved any other way than by the dispensing of drugs and medicines in the manner they now are; burying alive being judged repugnant to the known laws of the kingdom." There is also one interesting feature of these squabbles which may be noticed without breaking the rule we have set down for our guidance; we refer to the dispute between the College and the Apothecaries' Company. Towards the close of the seventeenth century the apothecaries of London began generally to prescribe as

well as dispense medicines. The College resisted this inroad on their domain; and established, by way of retaliation it is said, a Dispensary at their hall for the sale of medicines to the poor at prime cost. An animated literary war now broke out; and amongst the other productions of the occasion was Garth's satirical poem of The Dispensary.' We cannot better commence our description of the edifice in Warwick Lane than with a brief extract from the witty physician's

verses:

"Not far from that most celebrated place *
Where angry Justice shows her awful face,
Where little villains must submit to fate,
That great ones may enjoy the world in state,
There stands a dome, majestic to the sight,
And sumptuous arches bear its awful height;
A golden globe, placed high with artful skill,
Seems to the distant sight a gilded pill."

The removal of the College from Amen Corner was owing to the fire of London, which entirely destroyed the buildings, including those erected by Harvey, the statue of the latter, and the library, with the exception of about 120 folio volumes. For the next few years the members met at the house of the President.

In 1669 a piece of ground was purchased in Warwick Lane, and in 1670 the edifice was begun, from a design by Sir Christopher Wren. It was opened in

*Newgate.

1674, under the presidency of Sir George Ent. We need not describe the front of this building; Garth's verses and the engraving convey a sufficient idea. The general style of the architecture, we may observe, can scarcely be said to be worthy of the genius that produced St. Paul's. It was, however, a sumptuously decorated building in the interior, as, fortunately, we may yet see; though our local historians generally pass it without particular notice. Since the last removal of the society, this their once favourite and splendid hall has been sadly desecrated. The octangular porch of entrance, forty feet in diameter, no longer exhibits on its floor "the dust, brushed off from learned feet;"-no longer now, as of old, does the costermonger of the neighbouring market peep into that mysterious place, and wonder whether its owners, who worked such miracles upon every body else, ever allowed themselves to die ;-no longer does the young collector of the Row gaze his soul away in admiration as one of the very men themselves (gods, rather, to his credulous fancy)

his entry made,

Beneath the immense full bottom's shade,

While the gilt cane with solemn pride
To each sagacious nose applied,
Seemed but a necessary prop

To bear that weight of wig at top."

Butchers and meat fill the outer porch, butchers and meat fill the quadrangle within, now so divided off and covered over for their purposes, that it is some time before one can distinguish the outline of the court, or the principal buildings of the College which still surround it. The interior of the octangular pile above the porch formed the lecture-room, which is light and very lofty, being open upwards to the top of the edifice. The general shape and character of this building are preserved throughout; the porch is octangular; there are eight extcrior faces to the part above, with eight windows, and the same with the lantern over the dome. The room is now unused. Crossing the corner of the market or court to the left, we find the way to the more important part of the old College, now used in the business* of the gentlemen to whom the entire premises belong. We are now in the entrance-hall of the building. As we look around and above at the great size and noble proportions of this place, we begin first to have a consciousness of the presence of its illustrious architect. The hall is probably sixty feet high from floor to ceiling, and perhaps about twenty-four feet by twenty square. A truly magnificent staircase runs upwards through it, the balusters most elaborately carved. The ceiling is elegantly decorated in panels. Right up the centre of the place extends a round shaft containing a geometrical staircase within, erected by the present proprietors, as the mode of communication to the rooms at the top of the building. From the staircase we pass into the diningroom, about sixty feet long by twenty-four wide, which has a ceiling that must at once excite the admiration of every visitor. It is divided into three parts; a great circle in the centre and a large oval on each side, the whole formed by very deep and elaborate stucco ornaments of foliage, flowers, &c., on a beautiful lightblue ground. Each of the figures is set in a rich border, filling up all the remaining space of the ceiling. A very broad cornice of similar character extends

*Braziers and Brass Founders.

round the room. The oak carvings also deserve minute attention. They consist of the framework in which the rich marble of the chimney-pieces is set, the bold ornamental wreaths, &c., above, and of a gallery fixed against the wall near the ceiling, which stood formerly in the library beneath, now lost in the alterations of the College. The body of the gallery is supported by brackets carved all over, and of a very handsome massive character; and the upper rail by figures of children (instead of balusters), their lower parts merged into pedestals. The hall is lighted by five arched windows. Beyond this room is a smaller one as to length, but decorated in the same rich style. So completely is the view of the principal buildings of the college shut out from the court below by the roof with its numerous skylights thrown over the court, that but for the courtesy of the proprietors we should be unable to notice either that or the two statues of Charles II. and Sir John Cutler still existing there, and to the last of which a curious story is annexed. Passing through a window of the counting-house, however, we get on to the roof of which we have spoken, and there, walking about among the skylights projecting upwards breast high, look around us at our leisure. On the north and south are the buildings which enclose two sides of the quadrangle, formerly used as places of residence by the college officers. On the west is the principal front of the College, consisting of two chief stories, the lower decorated with Ionic pillars, the capitals of which just appear above our feet, the higher by Corinthian, and by a pediment in the centre at the top. Immediately beneath the pediment is the statue of Charles II., with a Latin inscription. Some of the stones in which it is inscribed have been removed for the formation of a window; they are preserved, however, with that care which has evidently characterized all the alterations of the proprietors, who certainly have injured the original building and its decorations as little as possible. On the east is the octangular pile, and its somewhat mean-looking dome; with the gilt ball or "pill" above, and the statue of Sir John Cutler below. "I was greatly at a loss,” says Pennant, "to learn how so much respect was shown to a character so stigmatized for avarice. I think myself much indebted to Dr. Warren for the extraordinary history. It appears by the annals of the College, that in the year 1671 a coǹsiderable sum of money had been subscribed by the fellows for the crection of a new college, the old one having been consumed in the great fire eight years before. It also appears that Sir John Cutler, a near relation of Dr. Whistler, the president, was desirous of becoming a benefactor. A committee was appointed to wait upon Sir John to thank him for his kind intentions. He accepted their thanks, renewed his promise, and specified the part of the building of which he intended to bear the expense. In the year 1680 statues in honour of the king and Sir John were voted by the members; and nine years afterwards, the College being then completed, it was resolved to borrow money of Sir John Cutler to discharge the College debt; but the sum is not specified. It appears, however, that in 1699 Sir John's executors made a demand on the College of seven thousand pounds, which sum was supposed to include the money actually lent-the money pretended to be given, but set down as a debt in Sir John's books-and the interest on both. Lord Radnor, however, and Mr. Boulter, Sir John Cutler's exccutors, were prevailed on to accept two thousand pounds from the College, and actually remitted the other five. So that Sir John's promise,

which he never performed, obtained him the statue, and the liberality of his executors has kept it in its place ever since. But the College wisely have obliterated the inscription which, in the warmth of its gratitude, it had placed beneath the figure

OMNIS CUTLERI CEDAT LABOR AMPHITHEATRO."

In this building the fellows of the College continued to hold their meetings till 1825, when, as Dr. Macmichael observes in his interesting little volume, The Gold-headed Cane,'-" The change of fashion having overcome the genius loci," they removed to their present building at the corner of Pall Mall East and Trafalgar Square. Thither let us follow them.

This elegant building, erected by Sir R. Smirke, was opened on the 25th of June, 1825, with a Latin oration delivered by the President, Sir Henry Halford. The style, as will be perceived from a glance at our engraving, is the Grecian Ionic; the portico, though not remarkable for originality, is beautiful. The interior very happily confirms the promise of the exterior. An air of sumptuous elegance reigns throughout, made only the more impressive by the sense of repose and dignity conveyed by the general solitude of the apartments, and by their airy and noble proportions. A door on the left of the entrance-hall leads into the dining-room, lighted by a range of six windows overlooking Trafalgar Square, and having a chastely beautiful ceiling. Pillars of green and white marble (imitation) decorate the northern end of the room. Over the fireplace is a fine portrait of a fine face, that of Hamey, the eminent physician of the period of the Commonwealth, of whom it has been said, "He was a consummate scholar without pedantry, a complete philosopher without any taint of infidelity, learned without vanity, grave without moroseness, solemn without preciseness, pleasant without levity, regular without formality, nice without effeminacy, generous without prodigality, and religious without hypocrisy." When, during the civil wars, the property of the College at Amen Corner was condemned, as part of the possessions of the Church, and put up to public auction, Dr. Hamey became the purchaser, and two years later settled it in perpetuity on the College. A valuable MS. of Hamey's is preserved in the library-his notes and criticisms on Aristophanes. Here also are the portraits of Sir Edmund King, and Dr. Freind, the well-known historian of medicine. King was one among the philosophers of his time to exhibit the experiment of the transfusion of blood. He caused, for instance, the blood of a young dog to be transfused into the veins of one almost blind with age, and which could hardly move: in two hours it began to leap and frisk. It was probably while exhibiting some of these experiments before Charles II., who had a taste for experimental philosophy, that the King suddenly fell on the floor as if dead. Dr. King, without waiting for the advice of the royal physicians, which must have come too late, boldly put aside the danger to himself in case of failure, and immediately bled the Monarch, who then recovered his senses. The Council ordered him a reward of a thousand pounds for this service, which was never paid. The portrait of Dr. Freind, in his fullbottomed wig and brown velvet coat, reminds us of an anecdote creditable alike to the profession and human nature. During the ministry of Sir Robert Walpole, Freind was elected member for Launceston, and distinguished himself by some able speeches against the policy of the government. He was supposed to have