their power over my
sensibilities.

The private medical school which I had joined was one established by Dr.
James Jackson, Dr. Walter Channing, Dr. John Ware, Dr. Winslow Lewis, and
Dr. George W. Otis. Of the first three gentlemen I have either spoken
elsewhere or may find occasion to speak hereafter. The two younger
members of this association of teachers were both graduates of our
University, one of the year 1819, the other of 1818.

Dr. Lewis was a great favorite with students. He was a man of very
lively temperament, fond of old books and young people, open-hearted,
free-spoken, an enthusiast in teaching, and especially at home in that
apartment of the temple of science where nature is seen in undress, the
anthropotomic laboratory, known to common speech as the dissecting-room.
He had that quality which is the special gift of the man born for a
teacher,--the power of exciting an interest in that which he taught.
While he was present the apartment I speak of was the sunniest of studios
in spite of its mortuary spectacles. Of the students I met there I best
remember James Jackson, Junior, full of zeal and playful as a boy, a
young man whose early death was a calamity to the profession of which he
promised to be a chief ornament; the late Reverend J. S. C. Greene, who,
as the prefix to his name signifies, afterwards changed his profession,
but one of whose dissections I remember looking upon with admiration; and
my friend Mr. Charles Amory, as we call him, Dr. Charles Amory, as he is
entitled to be called, then, as now and always, a favorite with all about
him. He had come to us from the schools of Germany, and brought with him
recollections of the teachings of Blumenbach and the elder Langenbeck,
father of him whose portrait hangs in our Museum. Dr. Lewis was our
companion as well as our teacher. A good demonstrator is,--I will not
say as important as a good Professor in the teaching of Anatomy, because
I am not sure that he is not more important. He comes into direct
personal relations with the students,--he is one of them, in fact, as the
Professor cannot be from the nature of his duties. The Professor's chair
is an insulating stool, so to speak; his age, his knowledge, real or
supposed, his official station, are like the glass legs which support the
electrician's piece of furniture, and cut it off from the common currents
of the floor upon which it stands. Dr. Lewis enjoyed teaching and made
his students enjoy be