In 1783 the lease of the Jermyn Street house expired, and finding it difficult to accommodate his museum in any premises he could obtain, Mr. Hunter purchased the remainder of the lease, extending to twenty-four years only, of a house on the east side of Leicester Square, with ground extending on the rear to Castle Street, where there was a second smaller house. On the vacant ground Mr. Hunter determined to build a museum for his collection, including a large upper room fifty-two feet by twenty-eight, lighted from above, and having a gallery running round it. A lecture-room and other rooms were beneath. By the spring of 1785 this considerable undertaking was complete, absorbing all Hunter’s spare cash and costing him more than £3,000. But the museum, which was removed to it in April 1785, had by 1782 cost him £10,000 in addition to valuable presents, so that it cannot be said that the casket cost more than the jewels although being on so short a lease it was doubtless expensive. The museum in its new home became continually more celebrated, and was visited by many foreign anatomists of distinction, including Blumenbach, Camper, Scarpa, and Poli. At this period Hunter was at the height of his career; his mind and body were in full vigour; “his hands,” says Home, “were capable of performing whatever was suggested by his mind; and his judgment was matured by former experience.” There were diverse opinions about his skill as an operator, however; Astley Cooper did not consider him especially dexterous or elegant. Nevertheless his anatomical knowledge and great experience stood him in good stead, and he was almost always successful in completing his operations. It must be recollected, however, that special importance was, in pre-chloroform days, attached to speed, and in this Hunter did not excel. Indeed, to him, operating was a distasteful element in a surgeon’s curative efforts. “To perform an operation,” he would say, “is to mutilate a patient we cannot cure; it should therefore be considered as an acknowledgment of the imperfection of our art.” The year of greatest success, however, was marked by a period of grave illness, with attacks of violent spasms of the heart, followed by syncope. These recurred on occasions of extra exertion, anxiety of mind, fits of temper, or even the fear lest an animal which he wished to secure might escape before a gun could be brought to shoot it. To this year (1785) we are indebted for the celebrated portrait of Hunter by Sir Joshua Reynolds, in the possession of the Royal College of Surgeons. He was a bad sitter, but Reynolds, dissatisfied with his progress, one day was gratified by seeing Hunter in deep reverie, with his head supported by his left hand. He at once turned his canvas upside down, and began to record that life-like face, which shows Hunter the philosopher in the true profundity of his nature. Sharp engraved this portrait, and it was one of his greatest successes.