Of Dr. John Radcliffe, the physician of the reigns of William III. and Queen Anne, many strange anecdotes are told, for he was a man of rough Abernethy manners, even with kings. When called in to see King William at Kensington, finding his legs dropsically swollen, he said: ’I would not have your two legs, your Majesty, not for your three kingdoms.’ The remark gave great offence. But on another occasion he was even more brusque. ’Your juices,’ he said to the King, ’are all vitiated, your whole mass of blood corrupted, and the nutriment mostly turned to water. If your Majesty will forbear making long visits to the Earl of Bradford’ (where the King was wont to drink very hard), ’I’ll engage to make you live three or four years longer, but beyond that time no physic can protract your Majesty’s existence.’ On one occasion, when he was sent for from the tavern, to which he resorted but too often, by Queen Anne, he flatly refused to leave his bottle. ’Tell her Majesty,’ he bellowed, ’that it’s nothing but the vapours.’ He advised a hypochondriacal lady, who complained of nervous singing in the head, to ’curl her hair with a ballad.’ He cured a gentleman of a quinsy by making his own two servants eat a hasty-pudding for a wager, which caused the patient to break out into such a fit of laughter as to burst the quinsy. Sir Godfrey Kneller and Radcliffe were at one time neighbours in Bow Street, Covent Garden, and the painter having beautiful pleasure-grounds, a door was opened for the accommodation of his neighbour. But in consequence of damage done to his flower-beds, Sir Godfrey threatened to close the door, to which Radcliffe replied, he might do anything with it but paint it. ’Did Dr. Radcliffe say so?’ cried Sir Godfrey. ’Go and tell him, with my compliments, that I can take anything from him but his physic.’ In spite of his cynicism and rudeness, he made a very large income, on the average twenty guineas a day, and when he was told that the £5,000 he had invested in South Sea stock was lost, he could with placid sangfroid say: ’Well, it is only going up another 5,000 stairs.’ But though he so heavily taxed his patients, he was very much opposed to paying his debts, especially such as he owed to tradespeople. A pavior, whom he had employed and constantly put off paying, at last waited for him at his (the doctor’s) door, and, when his carriage drove up, roughly asked for his money. ’Why, you rascal,’ said the doctor, ’do you expect to get paid for such a bad piece of work? You have spoiled my pavement, and covered it with earth to hide your bad work!’ ’Doctor,’ replied the pavior, ’mine is not the only bad work the earth hides.’ ’You dog, you!’ cried the doctor, ’you must be a wit, and want the money. Come in.’ And he paid him. Curiously enough, the man who left the splendid library, known by his name, to Oxford, at one time, on being asked where his library was, pointed to a few phials, a skeleton, and a herbal, in