Among the many causes which make me regret having to appear before you to-day there is none stronger than the fact that I do so because my old friend and teacher Mr. Southam has ceased his active connection with our medical school. My earliest recollection of the old Manchester Infirmary takes me back to the days when he was a resident there. My earliest recollections as a student centre round his teaching. My first operation was performed under his eye and as his dresser. And from then until to-day I have always found him the same kind friend, the patient teacher, with the clear sound judgment and the great faculty of recognising his true aim and discarding the unimportant, whether in surgery or in general conduct, and of then pursuing that aim steadily, unflinchingly, until finally he had achieved his goal. For thirty years his clearness of view and his strength of purpose have had a value for our medical school which we have perhaps hardly appreciated, because his own modesty has somewhat hidden his own worth, but those who know him best, best know that in him we have lost a teacher and a colleague whom we shall not readily replace.
But it is only as an active member of our staff that we have lost the services of Mr. Southam; fortunately he is still with us, and we look forward to many years of his presence and assistance. It is not so with one other who has passed away since we last met in this building. John Edward Platt was a student when I had begun to be a teacher.