. Doctors and patients; or, Anecdotes of the medical world and curiosities of medicine. day, his old school-mate andcollege companion, Beatty, met him decked out in the tarnishedfinery of a second-hand suit of green and gold, with a shirt andneckcloth of a fortnights wear, yet he assumed a prosperousair : he was practising physic, he said, and doing very well—though he was at the moment pinched with poverty. One ofhis poor patients was a journeyman-printer, who, one day, in-duced by the doctors rusty, black patched suit, suggested thathis master, who had been kind to clever men, might be servi
. Doctors and patients; or, Anecdotes of the medical world and curiosities of medicine. day, his old school-mate andcollege companion, Beatty, met him decked out in the tarnishedfinery of a second-hand suit of green and gold, with a shirt andneckcloth of a fortnights wear, yet he assumed a prosperousair : he was practising physic, he said, and doing very well—though he was at the moment pinched with poverty. One ofhis poor patients was a journeyman-printer, who, one day, in-duced by the doctors rusty, black patched suit, suggested thathis master, who had been kind to clever men, might be service-able to him. This master was Samuel Richardson, who printedhis own novels of Pamela, Clarissa Harlowe, and SirCharles Grandison, at his office in Salisbury-court, now square,and at the top of the court, No. 76 Fleet-street. He engagedOliver as his reader, an occupation which he alternated withhis medical duties. Richardson lived in Salisbury-court, where he wrote his, Pamela. He admitted Goldsmith to his parlour, where he Frontispiece to the jiffouse the cor/iwo/Hresiki-neck:-Starrs. (?rccn Hnrbour Omrt, Old Bailey, TAe Residence of the lateD&ofdsmit/i i^i//js. PniTzf7id. bj/ ,, Jucc&nrorto thelate??J^CSett-eH. IxnTihiRFeb^2-2803. Doctor Oliver Goldsmith. 57 began to form literary acquaintances, among whom was , the author of Night Thoughts, then in the height offashion. This set Olivers imagination teeming : he began atragedy, which he showed to Dr. Farr, one of his Edinburghfellow-students, who was then in London, attending the hos-pitals and lectures. Early in January (1756, says Dr. Farr) he called upon meone morning before I was up, and, on my entering the room, Irecognised my old acquaintance, dressed in a rusty full-trimmedblack suit, with his pockets full of papers, which instantly re-minded me of the poet in Garricks farce of Lethe. He drewfrom his pocket part of a tragedy, which he said he had broughtfor my correction. In vain I pleaded
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