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We must not confound this chancellor with his namesake and contemporary William Cowper, the anatomist and commentator on Bidloo, who published a treatise on muscles, in England, at the very time that Etienne Abeille published a history of bones, in France. A surgeon is a very different thing from a lord.

Bidloo, and other eminent physicians; but their prescriptions proved ineffectual. On the sixth he granted another commission for passing the bill for the malt tax, and the act of abjuration; and being so weak that he could not write his name, he, in presence of the lord-keeper and the clerks of parliament, applied a stamp prepared for the purpose.

And the Schenckius, the folio filled with casus rariores, which had strayed in among the rubbish of the bookstall on the boulevard, and the noble old Vesalius with its grand frontispiece not unworthy of Titian, and the fine old Ambroise Pare, long waited for even in Paris and long ago, and the colossal Spigelius with his eviscerated beauties, and Dutch Bidloo with its miracles of fine engraving and bad dissection, and Italian Mascagni, the despair of all would-be imitators, and pre-Adamite John de Ketam, and antediluvian Berengarius Carpensis, but why multiply names, every one of which brings back the accession of a book which was an event almost like the birth of an infant?

Bidloo for his care and tenderness, saying, "I know that you and the other learned physicians have done all that your art can do for my relief; but, finding all means ineffectual, I submit." He received spiritual consolation from archbishop Tennison, and Burnet bishop of Salisbury; on Sunday morning the sacrament was administered to him.

His attendants conveyed him to the palace of Hampton-court, where the fracture was reduced by Ronjat, his sergeant-surgeon. In the evening he returned to Kensington in his coach, and the two ends of the fractured bone having been disunited by the jolting of the carriage, were replaced under the inspection of Bidloo, his physician.

And the Schenckius, the folio filled with casus rariores, which had strayed in among the rubbish of the bookstall on the boulevard, and the noble old Vesalius with its grand frontispiece not unworthy of Titian, and the fine old Ambroise Pare, long waited for even in Paris and long ago, and the colossal Spigelius with his eviscerated beauties, and Dutch Bidloo with its miracles of fine engraving and bad dissection, and Italian Mascagni, the despair of all would-be imitators, and pre-Adamite John de Ketam, and antediluvian Berengarius Carpensis, but why multiply names, every one of which brings back the accession of a book which was an event almost like the birth of an infant?