Mr. Cooper, notwithstanding his persevering industry in dissection, would not have found time to acquire all the knowledge he did, but for employing several assistants either to dissect the specimens he obtained from operations or from _post mortem_ examinations, or as artists and modellers, amanuenses, &c. He was very peremptory in his orders to his assistants to obtain for him any specimen he required, and would not listen to suggestions of difficulties. “So and so must be done,” he said, and his tone did not admit of the possibility of failure. Thus he accumulated the large collection of morbid specimens which he contributed to St. Thomas’s Hospital, at a time when such collections were poohpoohed, and so little regarded, that he could readily obtain any specimen he desired which was at the disposal of his colleagues. With regard to his proceedings in these matters the utmost secrecy was observed, entrance to his private dissecting-rooms being jealously restricted to himself and his paid assistants. When it was difficult to obtain leave to make a _post mortem_ examination in private practice, he would spend a long time in arguing most strenuously upon the matter with the relatives, pointing out the reasons which rendered it desirable in the interests of science. His only child was examined by his express wish by a friend; and he left strict injunctions and directions for the _post mortem_ on his own body. In very few cases was his determination ever frustrated. Astley Cooper reached his zenith in Broad Street. In one year his income reached £21,000; for many years it was £15,000. One merchant prince paid him £600 a year; the story of another, who tossed him a cheque for a thousand guineas in his night-cap, after a successful operation for stone, is well known. Many of his patients wrote a cheque for their fee when they consulted him, and never made it less than five guineas. It is amusing to contrast with his reputation as a surgeon and operator, the extremely limited pharmacopœia to which he trusted. “Give me,” he would say, “opium, tartarized antimony, sulphate of magnesia, calomel and bark, and I would ask for little else:” and from five or six formulæ he gave his poorer patients a constant stock of medicine.