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agro Ceftriensi oriundus.
In Coll. Pêmbr:
Haud leviter imbutus;
Per orbem notiffimus.
Obiit Octob. 19, 1682.
Da. Doroth. Br.
Near the foot of this pillar Lies Sir Thomas Browne, kt. and doctor in physick, Author of Religio Medici, and other learned books,
Who practised physick in this city 46 years; And died Oct. 1682, in the 77th year of his age.
In memory of whom, Dame-Dorothy Browne, who had bin his affectionate Wife 47 years, caused this monument to be
Besides his lady, who died in 1685, he left a son and three daughters. Of the daughters nothing very remarkable is known; but his son, Edward Browne, requires a particular mention.
He was born about the year 1642; and, after having passed through the classes of the school at Norwich, became bachelor of phyfick at Cambridge; and, afterwards removing to Merton-College in Oxford, was admitted there to the same degree, and afterwards made a doctor. In 1668 he visited part of Germany; and in the year following made a wider excurfion into Austria, Hungary, and Thessaly ; where the Turkish sultan then kept his court at Larissa. He afterwards passed through Italy. His skill in natural history made him particularly attentive to mines and inetallurgy. Upon his return he published an account of the countries through which he had passed; which I have heard commended by a learned traveller, who has visited many places after him, as written with scrupulous and exact veracity, such as is scarcely to be found in any other book of the fame kind. But whatever it may contribute to the instruction of a naturalist, I cannot recommend it as likely to give much pleasure to com mon readers; for whether it be that the world is very uniform, and therefore he who is refolved to adhere to truth will have few novelties to relate ; or that Dr. Browne was, by the train of his studies, led to enquire most after those things by which the greatest part of mankind is little affected; a great part of his book seems to contain very unimportant accounts of his paffage from one place where he saw little, to another where he saw no more.
Upon his return, he practised phyfick in London; was made physician first to Charles II. and afterwards, in 1682, to St. Bartholomew's hospital. About the same time he joined his name to those of many other eminent men, in " a translation of Plutarch's lives."
He was first censor, then elect, and treasurer of the college of physicians; of which in 1705 he was chosen president, and held his office till in 1708 he died in a degree of estimation suitable to a man so variously accomplished, that king Charles had honoured him with this panegyrick, that “ he was as learned as any “ of the college, and as well-bred as any of the « court."
Of every great and eminent character, part breaks forth into publick view, and part lies hid in domestick privacy. These qualities, which have been exerted in any known and lasting performances, may, at any diftance of time, be traced and estimated; but filent excellencies are soon forgotten; and those minute peculiarities which discriminate every man from all others, if they are not recorded by those whom personal knowledge enables to observe them, are irrecoverably loft. This mutilation of character must have happened, among many others, to sir Thomas Browne, had it not been delineated by his friend Mr. Whitefoot, “ who “ esteemed it an especial favour of Providence, to have “ had a particular acquaintance with him for two 66 thirds of his life.” Part of his observations I shall therefore copy
“ For a character of his person, his complexion and “ hair was answerable to his name; his stature was mo“ derate, and habit of body neither fat nor lean, but
“ In his habit of cloathing, he had an aversion to all “ finery, and affected plainness, both in the fashion and
ornaments. He ever wore a cloke, or boots, when “ few others did. He kept himself always very warm, " and thought it most safe fo to do, though he never
- loaded himself with such a multitude of garments, as Suetonius
reports of Augustus, enough to cloath a “ good family.
“ The horizon of his understanding was much lar
ger than the hemisphere of the world: all that was “ visible in the heavens he comprehended so well, that “ few that are under them knew so much: he could tell “ the number of the visible stars in his horizon, and “ call them all by their names that had any; and of the " earth he had such a minute and exact geographical “ knowledge, as if he had been by Divine Providence “ ordained surveyor-general of the whole terrestrial orb, “ and its products, minerals, plants, and animals. He “ was so curious a botanist, that, besides the specifical “ distinctions, he made nice and elaborate observations,
equally useful as entertaining.
“ His memory, though not so eminent as that of “ Seneca or Scaliger, was capacious and tenacious, in“ fomuch as he remembered all that was remarkable “ in any book that he had read; and not only knew “ all persons again that he had ever seen at any dif
tance of time, but remembered the circumstances of " their bodies, and their particular discourses and “ speeches.
“ In the Latin poets he remembered every thing “ that was acute and pungent: he had read most of the “ historians, antient and modern, wherein his observa“ tions were singular, not taken notice of by common “ readers; he was excellent company when he was at “ leisure, and expressed more light than heat in the teinper
of his brain. “ He had no despotical power over his affections “ and passions (that was a privilege of original per
« fection, forfeited by' the neglect of the use of it) but « as large a political power over them, as any stoick,
or man of his time, whereof he gave so great expes ciment, that he hath very rarely been known to have “ been overcome with any of them. The strongest " that were found in him, both of the irascible and " concupiscible, were under the controul of his reason. * Of adıniration, which is one of them, Being the only “ product, either of ignorance, or uncommon know
ledge, he had more and less than other men, upon " the same account of his knowing more than others; “fo that though he met with many rarities, he ad(mired them not so much as others do.
“ He was never seen to be transported with mirth, ľor dejected with sadness;- always chearful, but rarely
merry, at any sensible rate; seldom heard to break a
jeft; and, when he did, he would be apt to blush at !".the levity.of.it: his gravity was natural, without af. « fectation.
“ His modesty was 'visible in a natural habitual blush, ' " which was-increafed upon the leaft occasion, and oft “ discovered without any obfervable cause.
“ They that knew no more of him than by the “ briskness of his writings, found themselves deceived "in their expectation, when they came in his com
pany, noting'the gravity and fobriety of his afpect 65 and converfation; so free from loquacity, or' much “ talkativeness, that he was foinething difficult to be “engaged in any discourse; though, when he was fo, “ it was always singular; and never trite or vulgar. “ Parfimonious in nothing but his time, whereof he “ made as much improvementwith as little lofs, as any man in it: when he had any to spare from his