Nor must we forget Wren’s anatomical and surgical experiments. In his early Oxford days he devised instruments (fully described by Boyle) for making injections into the blood of a dog, which he tried very successfully (for everyone but the dog). He also skilfully removed the spleen of another dog which “in less than a fortnight grew not only well, but as sportive and wanton as before.” Bound up in the heirloom _Parentalia_ is a most careful drawing by Wren’s hand of the anatomy of the river eel. Instances of his versatility over the whole field of science can be multiplied almost indefinitely. From the end of 1662 Wren’s name began to appear less frequently in the records of the Royal Society. His increasing preoccupation with architecture and, later, his journey to Paris provide the reason. But these extracts do make clear that, even when he was preoccupied with science, Wren’s energies were to some extent dissipated by the universality of his interests and his practical skill as an experimenter. They can be accepted as explaining why he did not become supreme in any one branch of science, although any loss in this direction was, perhaps, more than compensated for by the richness of the experience and the breadth of mind that he was thereby enabled to turn to the service of architecture. Though architecture became an exacting mistress, he always kept in touch with the Royal Society and, after a period as Vice-President when he was often in the Chair, served as President in 1680. He could not give the time to experiment, but he was an effective stimulus in the organisation of scientific thought, and took an exceedingly active part in discussions which ranged from comets to the making of jessamine-scented gloves with daffodils, from Mr. Mercator’s new projection of maps to the conclusion that “all wholesome food should have oils” (which smacks of vitamines), from the structure of peat to the contrivance of an azimuth compass. The incredible boy of Wadham days had become the tireless President at fifty, immersed in the greatest architectural practice of his century, but still the enthusiastic scientist. I find it all very astonishing. CHAPTER V BEGINNINGS OF ARCHITECTURE AND VISIT TO PARIS