of doubt." He noted
the difficulty experienced in removing the sponge because of its being
extensively penetrated by blood-vessels springing from the surface of
the brain. This inconvenience he afterward obviated by putting a thin
piece of muslin between the fungus and the sponge. He saw in this
property of the sponge what no doubt others had seen before, the
phenomenon of sponge-grafting, but like them he failed to utilize it in
practice.

Dr. Dudley was not a student of books. He had no taste for literature.
He wrote but little, and that only for the Transylvania Journal of
Medicine, edited by two of his colleagues, Professors Cooke and Short.
His first article did not appear until 1828, fourteen years after he had
begun practice. It was on injuries of the head. It abounded in original
views, and did much to shape surgical thought at the time. Today it may
be consulted with profit. His second paper was on hydrocele; in this he
advocated the operation by incision and removal of the sac. He read so
little that he fell into the error of believing that he was the
originator of the procedure. There are writers in our own day who would
be able to hold their own against him in this particular. A paper on the
bandage, another on fractures, and one on the nature and treatment of
calculous diseases, embrace all his contributions to medical literature.

Dr. Dudley was the son of Ambrose Dudley, a distinguished Baptist
minister. He was born in Spottsylvania County, Va., April 25, 1785. When
but a year old he was brought by his father to the then county of
Kentucky. The family settled in Lexington, in which beautiful city the
child became a man, and lived and wrought and died. The date of his
death is January 25, 1870; his age was eighty-five years.

Dr. Dudley was a man of affairs. His practice was always large and paid
him well. He amassed a handsome fortune. His opinions were often sought
in courts of justice on professional points, where his dignity,
self-possession, and dry wit (which he seems to have suppressed at the
lecturer's desk), commanded the respect of judge, juror, and advocate,
while it made him the terror of the pettifogger. Once, while giving
expert testimony in a case involving a wound made by bird-shot delivered
at short range, he described the behavior of projectiles, and the danger
of bullet wounds. The opposing counsel interrupted him: "Do you mean to
say," said the lawyer, "do you mean to say, Dr. Dudley