As a specimen of Bell’s style in popular writing, to which he devoted great pains, we quote from his Bridgewater Treatise on “The Hand” a passage dealing with the movements of the eye. “On coming into a room, we see the whole side of it at once—the mirror, the pictures, the cornice, the chairs; but we are deceived: being unconscious of the motions of the eye, and that each object is rapidly, but successively, presented to it. It is easy to show that if the eye were steady, vision would be quickly lost; that all these objects, which are distinct and brilliant, are so from the motion of the eye: that they would disappear if it were otherwise. For example, let us fix the eye on one point, a thing difficult to do, owing to the very disposition to motion in the eye: but by repeated attempts we may at length acquire the power of fixing the eye to a point. When we have done so, we shall find that the whole scene becomes more and more obscure, and finally vanishes. Let us fix the eye on the corner of the frame of the principal picture in the room. At first, everything around it is distinct; in a very little time, however, the impression becomes weaker, objects appear dim, and then the eye has an almost incontrollable desire to wander; if this be resisted, the impressions of the figures in the picture first fade: for a time, we see the gilded frame; but this also becomes dim. When we have thus far ascertained the fact, if we change the direction of the eye but ever so little, at once the whole scene will be again perfect before us. These phenomena are consequent upon the retina being subject to exhaustion.” Considering the warmth with which the originality of Charles Bell’s views was contested, it is indeed striking to notice how early he composed himself to answer only by silence. “This must be,” he says, “the mode in which my opinions shall come to be acknowledged: without some agitation and controversy they would never be propagated. I am satisfied I have a secure ground.” In 1821 Wilson died, and Bell’s assumption of the chief responsibility for the Windmill Street School, with heavy pecuniary liabilities, followed. In 1824 he was appointed to the Professorship of Anatomy and Surgery at the Royal College of Surgeons. So he set himself with renewed energy to make his lectures of the utmost value to practising surgeons. His first lecture was given to an audience crowded to suffocation. The crowding continued at subsequent lectures, many being unable to get admission.