Frith-street, Soho-square, No. 54, was the house at which Mr. Snow, to use his own words, first “nailed up his colours”. He removed from Bateman’s Buildings in the beginning of September 1838, and became, in Frith-street, the tenant of Mrs. Williamson, widow of Captain Williamson, known as the author of several works on India. He bought no practice, nor exhibited any pretence. Like mighty Columbus, his caravel was very insignificant when compared with the voyage on which he embarked, and through which he sailed so successfully. He did not find the voyage very smooth either at first. How could he? A man cast at large in the modern Babylon, with few introductions, no plethora of purse, and great purposes in hand, need never ignore the necessities from the idea of rising to the crest of the wave by three cheers and a long pull. Snow was too foreseeing to be ignorant of this, and he prepared accordingly. A more thoroughly girded man for the world’s encounter could hardly be conceived than he at this time. He took no wine nor strong drink; he lived simply of the simple, on anchorite’s fare, with more than anchorite resolution, with the temptations of the world always before him; he clothed plainly, and made the best of everything; he kept no company, and found every amusement in his science books, his experiments, in his business, and in simple exercise. To fill up time till the money patients should come, he became one of the visitors of the out-patients of Charing Cross Hospital; and to many a poor representative of the great half-starved, extended a skill which would have been a blessing to a duke. The Librarian of the College of Surgeons’ Library knew him as a quiet man, who read closely, and was not too proud to ask for a translation when an original bothered him. All who knew him said he was a quiet man, very reserved and peculiar—a clever man at bottom perchance, but not easy to be understood and very peculiar.