resemblance, as Southey has remarked, to Charles I., 'always cheerful,
but never merry,' given to unseasonable blushing, little inclined to
talk, but strikingly original when once launched in conversation; sedate
in his dress, and obeying some queer medical crotchets as to its proper
arrangement; always at work in the intervals of his 'drudging practice;'
and generally a sober and dignified physician. From some letters which
have been preserved we catch a view of his social demeanour. He was
evidently an affectionate and liberal father, with good old orthodox
views of the wide extent of the paternal prerogative. One of his sons
was a promising naval officer, and sends home from beyond the seas
accounts of such curiosities as were likely to please the insatiable
curiosity of his parent. In his answers, the good Sir Thomas quotes
Aristotle's definition of fortitude for the benefit of his gallant
lieutenant, and argues elaborately to dissuade him from a practice which
he believes to prevail in 'the king's shipps, when, in desperate cases,
they blow up the same.' He proves by most excellent reasons, and by the
authority of Plutarch, that such self-immolation is an unnecessary
strain of gallantry; yet somehow we feel rather glad that Sir Thomas
could not be a witness to the reception of this sensible, but perhaps
rather superfluous, advice, in the messroom of the 'Marie Rose.' It is
more pleasant to observe the carefulness with which he has treasured up
and repeats all the compliments to the lieutenant's valour and wisdom
which have reached him from trustworthy sources. This son appears to
have died at a comparatively early age; but with the elder son,
Edward--who, like his father, travelled in various parts of Europe, and
then became a distinguished physician--he maintained a long
correspondence, full of those curious details in which his soul
delighted. His son, for example, writes from Prague that 'in the mines
at Brunswick is reported to be a spirit; and another at the tin mine at
Stackenwald, in the shape of a monke, which strikes the miners, playeth
on the bagpipe, and many such tricks.' They correspond, however, on more
legitimate inquiries, and especially on the points to be noticed in the
son's medical lectures. Sir Thomas takes a keen interest in the fate of
an unlucky 'oestridge' which found its way to London in 1681, and was
doomed to illustrate some of the vulgar errors. The poor bird was
induced to swallow a pie