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Obituary

JAMES ROGNVALD LEARMONTHK.C.V.O., C.B.E., Ch.M. Glasg., F.R.C.S.E.

Sir James Learmonth, who died on Sept. 27, had heldthree chairs of surgery in Scotland, so that much of hiswork was accomplished North of the Tweed. But his

reputation as a surgeon, teacher, and research-workerwas world wide and easily overstepped all nationalboundaries.

The Stewartry of Kirkcudbright has produced many distin-guished men and Learmonth has his place in their company.

He was born in 1895 at Gatehouseof Fleet, the son of the headmasterof the Girthon School, to which henaturally went before going on toKilmarnock Academy and then in1913 to the University of Glasgow.During the 1914-18 war he servedin France and Scotland in the

King’s Own Scottish Borderers.He returned to the University ofGlasgow in 1918 and to an out-standing career as a student. Hehad, among other gifts, an extra-ordinary visual memory, and a fel-low student used later to relate howon one occasion the examiners were

very chilly. " Mr. Learmonth,"they said, " we cannot help notic-ing that your diagram of the bra-

chial plexus is an exact reproduction of the one in Gray’sAnatomy. Can you explain this?" Whereupon Learmonthoffered to reproduce any other diagram: they chose one: andhe did it. The examiners’ attitude became distinctly warmer,and in 1921 he graduated M.B. with honours and won theBrunton prize as the most distinguished graduate of the year.

After qualification he spent two years as assistant to theprofessor of surgery in Anderson College, Glasgow, before

setting off with a Rockefeller fellowship for the Mayo Clinicin Minnesota. There he worked as an assistant in the neuro-logical service of Dr. A. W. Adson and also in the departmentof pathology on brain tumours. This last study was the basisof his CH.M. thesis. In 1925 he returned to Glasgow to becomeassistant to the regius professor of surgery. He also built

up a substantial private practice with a good deal of neuro-logical work. He did much, by modifying and improvingtechniques, to increase the use of blood-transfusion as an

adjunct to major surgery.In 1928 he was invited to return to the Mayo Clinic as a

member of the permanent staff, and he rejoined the neuro-surgical department. The following years were filled byintensive research, of which perhaps the most important washis study of the innervation of the bladder and its neuro-

surgical implications.In 1932 he returned to this country on his appointment to

the regius chair of surgery in the University of Aberdeen.Perhaps because there were fewer opportunities for neuro-surgery, he undertook more general surgery, and he establishedan international reputation in the new specialty of surgery ofthe nervous system. He also took an important part in theerection and equipment of the medical-school buildings at

Foresterhill.

In 1939 Learmonth succeeded Sir David Wilkie in theEdinburgh chair of systematic surgery. He was immediatelyovertaken by the difficult war years, and his department madean important contribution to the care of the wounded byorganising the peripheral-nerve unit at Gogarburn Hospital.In 1946 the university asked him to take over, in addition to

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his own chair, the chair of clinical surgery, vacated by SirJohn Fraser on his appointment as principal and vice-chan-cellor. Learmonth accepted this challenge, for he welcomedthe extra opportunities it gave for training the many youngsurgeons returning from the war. In these post-war years healso expanded the department of surgery by setting up specialunits in vascular surgery, plastic surgery, thoracic surgery,paediatric surgery, and urological surgery. He held both chairsuntil he retired in 1956.

He was an honorary surgeon to the Sovereign in Scotlandfor many years, and he became an extra surgeon to the Queenin 1960. He was appointed C.B.E. in 1945 and K.c.v.o. in 1949,and he was a chevalier of the Legion of Honour of France. Hewas an honorary LL.D. of the Universities of Glasgow, St.

Andrews, and Edinburgh, an honorary M.D. of the Universi-sities of Oslo, Paris, and Strasbourg, and an honorary fellowof four surgical colleges. He was a Sims Commonwealthtravelling professor in 1964. He served two terms on theMedical Research Council and was a corresponding memberor honorary member of 16 surgical societies. After he retiredhe served for 6 years on the court of the University of Glasgow.He was awarded the Lister medal in 1951 and the Outstand-ing Achievement Award of the University of Minnesota in1964.

In 1925 Sir James married Miss Charlotte Bundy, a formerhead of the social-service department of the Mayo Clinic.There is a son and a daughter of the marriage.The following memoirs describe different facets of

Learmonth’s life. Several of the writers have helped us inpreparing our biography. R. M. particularly recalls earlydays at the Mayo Clinic:

" It was an interesting period at Rochester. Archibald

McIndoe, later to distinguish himself in plastic surgery, hadjust started in pathology; David Campbell, later to becomechairman of the General Medical Council, was Rockefellerresearch fellow on the medical side, and crossing swords withthe young Phil Hench, a future Nobel prize-winner for hiswork on cortisone. In this austere company, where everyoneworked very hard, one glimpsed, for the first time JamesLearmonth’s tremendous capacity for work, and his abilityto concentrate intensely and exclusively on any problem. Heearly caught the eye of Dr. Will Mayo, and he was rewardedwith invitations to sail in the Mayo boat on the Mississippi,an honour ordinarily reserved for only the most distinguishedvisitors to the clinic.

" In his relaxed moods, Jim Learmonth was the best ofcompany. He bubbled over with humour and colourfulanecdote. He was very interested in cricket, music, Kipling’spoetry, and a host of other activities, but when it came to

work, no man drove himself harder or more mercilessly inorder to achieve that near perfection which was the onlystandard he recognised. No surgeon could handle livingtissue more carefully or more delicately, and his surgery waspainstaking to the smallest detail. Sometimes during periodsof intense preoccupation, he could be moody, remote, off-

hand, and even brusque. This mood would pass and hewould recover an almost boyish gaiety. His house in Edin-

burgh, and later at Broughton, became what the Americanssometimes call a ’ 42nd Street and Broadway ’-a central

meeting ground for overseas medical visitors. During therecent centenary celebrations at Rochester, Minnesota, hewas given the highest award that the Mayo Clinic couldbestow. It was an honour richly deserved, for this countrynever had a more worthy medical ambassador."

N. J. L. writes of Learmonth’s first years as a professor:" J. R. L.’s appointment to the regius chair of surgery of

Aberdeen University in succession to Sir John Marnoch in 1932marked the end of the age of the clinical part-time professorialappointment and the beginning of the modern conception ofthe research-orientated whole-time professorial appointment.He was the first outsider ’ to be appointed to the chair, and

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Aberdeen was not attuned to the change. But his patentability, his self-imposed high standards in all that he did, andhis sense of right and wrong rapidly made him one of thefamily, respected for himself and his professional attainments.Aberdeen’s loss in 1939 was Edinburgh’s gain, but that SirJames kept a soft spot for Aberdeen was manifest to all hisfriends there."

T. McW. M. writes of the Edinburgh period:" Sir James arrived in Edinburgh at a time of national

emergency and of great uncertainty in university and hospitalaffairs. He thus faced a daunting task which soon revealedhis great qualities as administrator, scholar, careful sympatheticdoctor, skilled surgeon, and above all as a man of greathumanity, with the highest ideals and integrity and with apenetrating, inquiring, and original mind. He was a greatteacher and soon he had about him a group of disciples,medical and non-medical, which increased as the years passedand was gradually spread over the world, a group who

always knew they could approach their Chief for help andadvice.

" One of his main surgical interests was hypertension andthe role of surgery in its treatment. Stimulated by the

problems presented by war casualties, he made a specialstudy of peripheral vascular disease, and became a world

authority on it." All who worked in surgery in Edinburgh-at whatever

level-during the past twenty years and many surgicalvisitors will not fail to recall the 9 o’clock Saturday morningmeetings, an institution initiated by Sir James, not withoutsome opposition, which continues to this day in slightlydifferent form.

" Sir James brought to Edinburgh, as visiting professors,famous men and great contemporary surgical figures fromEurope, the Commonwealth, and the United States. Theirreadiness to come was a measure of the respect and admirationin which he was held throughout the surgical world. JamesLearmonth was a notable figure in the succession of dis-

tinguished surgeons who have occupied the Edinburgh chairsof surgery. Students of the last thirty years and colleagues,medical and surgical, will feel proud that they knew him,were taught by him, or worked with him."

J. P. R., recalling how Learmonth invited him to sharethe management of King George VI’s illness in 1948 and1949, writes:" Previously I had been familiar with his surgical erudition

and his success as director of great university departments;but it was very illuminating then to observe his handling ofmatters in minute detail, for he never left anything to chance.This shrewd carefulness won him the confidence of his royalpatient, and among the considerable number of medical menin attendance there was never any doubt about who was

really in charge of the situation. Though Learmonth’sinterest ranged widely over the whole field of surgery, he sethimself to acquire by clinical experience and research a

profound knowledge of his chosen specialty, including therarer congenital anomalies of the vascular system. His manyprofessional and academic honours were well earned and

richly deserved, and he has left behind him a record of whichany surgeon, and particularly any professor of surgery, mightbe justly proud."

D. M. D. offers the following personal appreciation:" James Learmonth, the son of a Scottish dominie, remained

a scholar throughout the whole of his busy and productivelife. He rejoiced in ideas, whether derived from his widereading or from the interplay of active brains and especiallyof young minds. He was also a critical and original thinker,and at research meetings in his department he showed thegift of rapid assimilation of unfamiliar data and of its analysis.He insisted upon frank discussion, which was sometimes hardto bear, but he always recognised that to try was better thanto do nothing.

"

Though a scholar and scientist through and through, hewas also a very good doctor who regarded each patient,private or public, as a special and personal responsibility.Trained in the exacting specialty of neurosurgery, he was anoutstanding surgical craftsman, especially in the surgery ofperipheral nerves and blood-vessels. His personality was a

compound of brilliance, discipline, integrity, and loyaltywhich inspired great devotion in those who worked with him.He was in every respect one of the great figures in Britishsurgery."Another colleague writes of Learmonth as a teacher:" He’ was a very good teacher in a dry, systematic,

unemotional way whether it was a formal lecture, at the

bedside, or a routine examination of the cranial and peri-pheral nerves, or the steps of an operation. Not everyonerealised that this man, at heart and by training a neuro-surgeon, while in Aberdeen had made himself so good a

general surgeon that he could and usually did close a perforatedduodenal ulcer in 4112 minutes without seeming to hurry.He was a superb organiser of gatherings of all kinds, more aNapoleon than a Wellington, but like both his staff work wasfaultless and his early planning was meticulous. Once he hadset a younger man a task and was satisfied the planning wasright he never interfered, but he expected hard work andresults and saw that he got them. He loved the Englishlanguage and insisted that it should be used precisely and withfeeling for its unlimited capacity to express exactly what thewriter meant. He liked personally to read and comment onall papers that went out of his department, not to change theircontent but to be sure that they were properly written. Thosewho were subjected to this discipline and could bear hisjudgment and detailed criticism learnt how much he caredthat they should write well. No-one could read a paper at a

meeting until it had been rehearsed before a selected smallaudience from the department, and this training and experiencewas at that time rather a novelty in Britain. The regularSaturday morning departmental meetings which he startedafter the war grew, despite early opposition, until theyincluded every surgical unit in the city. The detailed pre-paration they involved was for the young a good introductionto the organisation of meetings, just as the 15-minute paperwhich everyone had to give sometime was as valuable a trainingin comment as it was in what not to say in public and how notto say it. But he subjected himself to an even more rigorousdiscipline, and his papers and addresses were the result ofmeticulous preparation."He was shy and often brusque and could not bear

foolishness, but anger and a stern rebuke were sometimesfollowed by an apology as handsome as it was unexpected.He was never easy to work for, or with, because he set suchhigh standards of behaviour and achievement, but for thosewho fell under his considerable charm nothing was too much.He was intensely loyal to his staff and spent much effort tomake sure their work was properly recognised. Despite thetoughness of life in his department, when he retired in 1956almost everyone who had ever been in it came to the farewelldinner; he once said if you can’t always be loved it’s as wellto be respected, and he was both."An ex-student and house-surgeon writes:" Professor Learmonth, or Papa as he liked to call himself,

was an outstanding example of a clinical teacher. He was

lucid, up to date, and had impeccable delivery. He succeededin passing across to his audience a part of his own integrity.He apparently knew all his war-time Edinburgh class (250strong) by name, sight, or reputation, and could quell unrulinessand inattention by a glance. He wore white gloves whenwriting on the blackboard with a characteristic clear hand; onthese occasions he could apparently look backwards as wellas forwards. Those of us who became his house-surgeonswere not surprised to rediscover his intense compassion andkindliness towards patients and staff alike. He was intrinsicallya shy man and must have made great inroads upon himselfby setting such an example to other people."

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S. S., another ex-student, adds:

" James Learmonth’s qualities as a teacher, research

worker, and operator have already been acknowledged. Evenmore important was the way in which he combined them toset several of us on the path to academic medicine and surgery.We mourn his loss as an academic guru who created warm

friendship and abhorred pomposity. He stood for inter-nationalism of medicine, and as long as this survivesLearmonth will not be forgotten."H. D. describes Learmonth’s impact and continuing

influence:" My association with James Learmonth began when his

career had all but reached its zenith-holder of both chairsat Edinburgh, internationally known and nationally honoured.To a student he was both formidable and forbidding, requiringexemplary behaviour from all and instant obedience from hishousemen and juniors. It was not easy for us to see what afew became privileged to understand-that he was driven bytwin daemons: on the one hand, unswerving integrity thatbordered sometimes on bigotry in regard for the right; onthe other hand, by a warmth towards, and compassion for,people and particularly his patients by which he was embar-rassed and which, as if it were an admission of weakness, hedid his best to conceal. Working for him was tough and oftenexasperating in that he would sometimes not explain his

motives, frequently not divulge his source of annoyance, andrarely give praise. It took a good deal of determination tostand up to him: he seemed to know everything and hiscommand of the cutting phrase or withering look sometimesmade young men despair. And yet for those who hitchedtheir wagon to his star in the ’40s and ’50s he was both a bigand memorable man. A dexterous performer at a set-pieceoperation, he was in consequence a fine teacher of surgicalprinciples both in and out of the operating-theatre and a goodanalyst of clinical problems. In addition to his power of

discerning the possible from the advisable in clinical work,he had the ability to leave men alone in the laboratory, and hemay have felt lonely while good research was done by the menhe shielded from adversity and for whom, often withouttheir knowing, he had provided the appropriate intellectualmilieu. He was ahead of his time in recruiting physicistsand physiologists into his department and many of theseeds he sowed in surgical research have become hardyperennials.

" If you survived the fire of his personality and the rigoursof his clinical service, you stood a good chance of success,and behind the scenes he would be, ever helpful. Moreover,you were likely to join the small circle to whom he wouldopen his fertile and wide-ranging mind, for he was mostcarefully and comprehensively read. Not a brilliant con-

versationist, he was a writer of quality and a devastatingcritic. To submit a manuscript to him was to invite ablationand emendation in comparison with which the Editor of TheLancet or Gowers were but amateurs. Indeed, his sense ofprecision and propriety in the use of words sometimes lefthis own writing a mite dull, but no-one could deny their

clarity." When he retired he became more approachable. The

strain of trying to live up to the well-nigh impossible standardsof rectitude that he set himself was diminished and he wasmore relaxed. Many of us made repeated pilgrimages to

Broughton, where his advice and judgment on educational orother problems were always worth having. He used to hidehis interest under an air of diffidence, but he liked to be askedand his response was generous, incisive, and practical. In

comparison with the influence he had wielded in otherspheres-the Goodenough report and the council of GlasgowUniversity to name but two-the stream of letters that flowedto many corners of the world, always by return of post, wassmall beer. But I suspect that he enjoyed his chance to

stimulate his erstwhile pupils from the relative tranquillity ofretirement as much as anything he did."

LEONARD COLEBROOKM.B. Lond., Hon. D.Sc. Birm., F.R.C.S., F.R.C.O.G., F.R.S.

Dr. Leonard Cole brook, who died on Sept. 29 at theage of 84, will be remembered for his pioneer studies of theuse of the sulphonamides in puerperal fever before the warand for his work on the control of infection in burns

during the war.As a student at St. Mary’s Hospital he studied pathology

and bacteriology under Almroth Wright, and this, as he latersaid, " set me on my course for life ". Soon after graduatingM.B. in 1906 he joined Wright’s team in the embryo inoculationdepartment at St. Mary’s, and he was associated with earlywork in vaccine therapy, artificial pneumothorax, and theintroduction of ’ Salvarsan During 1914-18 he studied thewar-time problems of the meningococcus carrier, dysentery,and wound infections. In 1920 he was appointed to the staffof the Medical Research Council, and he returned to St. Mary’sto continue the work on streptococcal infections which he hadbegun during the war. In 1930 he was appointed director ofthe Bernhard Baron Laboratories of Queen Charlotte’s

Hospital where an isolation block had lately been opened totake cases of puerperal fever from the whole London area.From 1935 onwards most of the energy of Colebrook and histeam was directed to the assessment of ’ Prontosil ’ whichhad just been introduced by Domagk. This work was inter-

rupted in 1939, when Colebrook was sent to France to

organise clinical trials for the use of the sulphonamides inwound infections. In 1942 he was sent to Glasgow to directresearch on burns at the Royal Infirmary, where he wasable to demonstrate the value of local application of penicillin.In 1944 he moved to Birmingham to start the M.R.C.’sBurns Unit at the Accident Hospital. During the next yearsimportant studies of airborne infections and of methods fortheir control were carried out. This work aroused Colebrook’sinterest in the prevention of burning accidents, and afterhe retired in 1948 he took active part in campaignsfor the reduction of this hazard. In his retirement he alsowrote his Life of Sir Almroth Wright which was publishedin 1954.

Dr. Colebrook was elected F.R.C.O.G. in 1944, F.R.S. in 1945,and F.R.C.S. in 1950. He received an honorary D.SC. from theUniversity of Birmingham in 1950 and the Blair Bell medalin 1954. He was twice married and is survived by his secondwife.

R. E. 0. W. writes:

" The Burns Unit that Colebrook established in the

Birmingham Accident Hospital in 1943 provided him withthe opportunity of bringing together the work that he haddone in Glasgow on chemoprophylaxis in burns, his own andothers’ work on the prevention of contact infection, andR. B. Bourdillon’s ideas on the prevention of airborneinfection. The result was a unit which, perhaps for the firsttime, approached somewhere close to the prevention ofinfection in burns. And, of equal importance, Colebrook’swork with Bourdillon on the ventilation of the Burns Unit

dressing-room provided the foundation for a great part of thework on ventilation of operating-rooms during the subsequentyears. Colebrook appreciated from the beginning that theprevention of infection was only one aspect of the treatmentof patients with burns and he gave full support to research onmetabolism as well as infection, and to the developmentof the surgical techniques of early skin-grafting and later

repair." But ’ Coli’ was essentially a bacteriologist and he was

never happier than when working at the bench. His experiencewith Almroth Wright had left him a master of elegant butsimple techniques that employed the minimum of equipment.It was good to see him, in 1945, using for tests of thebactericidal power of sulphanilamides, the methods that heand Wright had invented for studying the bactericidal powerof the blood.

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" Colebrook’s puckish humour often softened, if it did notconceal, his determination (obstinacy to those who helddifferent views) to bring his plans to the goal he had set him-self ; in this his greatest triumph, achieved with his wife, wasto get legislation on the flame-proofing of children’s clothes.His pertinacity extended to frivolities as well. During themaking of a film at the Burns Unit, it was thought that thestrength of the air current out of the dressing-room couldbest be illustrated by having a pound note blow out underthe door. When the note would not oblige, Coli attached athread to it and pulled it out himself, chuckling delightedlyin the way that all his friends must remember; and all of us aresaddened that we shall hear it no more."

R. M. F. has sent the following memoir:" Leonard Colebrook was the last of the team of men who

worked with Sir Almroth Wright before and during the 1914-18war. Of these, apart from Fleming, Colebrook has probablyleft the most persistent mark on medical history.

" I started working in the same laboratory as Colebrook earlyin 1924, when the whole work centred on problems of treatmentof bacterial infections. When the supply of war-wounds driedup, Colebrook turned to the largest source of acute infectionsreadily available in peace-time-infections in the puerperium-and with this began his lifelong attachment to the problem ofthe streptococcal infections. Though most of his time wasspent in the laboratory he was by nature a clinician. He wasnever happy with any problem that was not directly connectedwith a living patient, and when in 1930 he became director ofthe newly opened laboratories attached to the Queen Charlotte’sMaternity Hospital isolation block he was at last able to realisehis ideal of research in close contact with the patient.

" During the years from 1930 to the start of the second warone thing stands out in my mind as illustrating his character-this was the establishment at Queen Charlotte’s of an informalclub called the Mortality Club. The members consisted of allthe honorary staff of the hospital (not only the obstetric staff)and the laboratory staff. Every two months we met for a simpledinner in a private room, and after dinner we discussed alldeaths that had occurred in the hospital since the last meeting,each case being introduced by the member of the staff who hadbeen in charge during the patient’s life. Discussion was freeand uninhibited, but the benign influence of Colebrook enabledus to reap the full advantage of such discussion without anyfeelings being hurt.

" The first five years of the Queen Charlotte’s period wereyears when the treatment of the established streptococcalinfection seemed as hard to find as ever. In fact two of Cole-brook’s papers published during that period were purelynegative, one showing that the results of treatment with organicarsenical drugs were much less good than he had hoped fromhis laboratory experiments, and the other that treatment withantistreptococcal serum had no curative effect and might evendo harm. But during this time he was working steadily onpreventive measures, both aseptic and antiseptic, so that theincidence of sepsis in the hospital and its domiciliary service,always low, became even lower. Then came ’ Prontosil’, andafter a few preliminary mouse experiments he decided to try iton some of the more severely ill patients, with results that atthe time seemed almost miraculous.

" Colebrook was an indefatigable worker, whose life wasbound up with his research. But he had great physical energyin his younger days, which he used up in making and tendinga large and beautiful garden at his house at Farnham Commonwhere he spent most of his weekends before the war and towhich he finally retired when his work at Birmingham wasfinished. When I first knew him, and for many years after, hewent to Switzerland every winter for a few weeks’ skiing. Asa more sedentary hobby he took up painting, from which he gota lot of pleasure, but he seldom showed the results to hisfriends.

" He was a most stimulating man to work with, and mypersonal feelings are a mixture of great affection and deepgratitude, for I owe almost everything to his help and encour-agement. Like all great men he had his difficult moments, andwe juniors in his laboratory learnt to recognise these in goodtime and to act accordingly. In the past few years my journeyshave sometimes taken me near to his home, and I haveoccasionally dropped in for a chat. With failing eyesight andadvancing years making it very difficult for him to travel, hewas always delighted to see old friends. The last time I sawhim, five weeks ago, he was very weak and tired, but still gladto chat about old times and about modern problems of infec-tions in hospitals. As a staunch supporter of the EuthanasiaSociety he was, I am sure, quite ready to meet death when itcame, as it did all too soon for all his friends."

GEORGE LISSANT COX

C.B.E., M.D. Cantab.

Dr. G. Lissant Cox, formerly central tuberculosisofficer of the county palatinate of Lancashire, died onSept. 27 at the age of 88.

He was educated at Christ’s College, Cambridge, and theUniversity of Liverpool. After qualifying in 1906 he heldresident appointments in Liverpool at the Royal Infirmarybefore joining the staff of the Consumption Hospital there.He also lectured on pathology and bacteriology at the uni-versity. Shortly before the 1914-18 war he became seniortuberculosis officer to the palatinate, and the rest of his dis-tinguished career was spent in the development of this service.The best record of his work is to be found in his impressiveseries of annual reports on the prevention and treatment oftuberculosis in Lancashire. He took a prominent part in boththe councils and counsels of his specialty. He was a formerchairman of the Joint Tuberculosis Council for England andWales and a member of the Minister of Health’s standingadvisory committee on tuberculosis. In 1944 he was appointedC.B.E., and he retired two years later. He was awarded the

Varrier-Jones medal in 1959.

Dr. Cox married in 1919 Sarah Howarth, who survives himwith a son and two daughters.

F. C. S. B. writes:

" Few people have so many interests as had Dr. Cox, and hisretirement in 1946 gave him the opportunity of pursuing oneof his favourite pastimes-the cultivation of trees, especiallyfruit trees and he provided himself with a fruit farm in ChurchStretton. He also continued his membership of the Councilof the National Association for the Prevention of Tuberculosis,and was for many years a regular supporter at meetings of theBritish Tuberculosis Association and the North WesternTuberculosis Society. He was an excellent speaker, sayingwhat there was to say lucidly but always with compellinginterest. Basically he was an administrator, with a fine judg-ment of character, which enabled him to work successfullyin committees and to surround himself with the right personnel.He saw to it that the Lancashire tuberculosis service never

lagged behind in technical developments, and he encouragedhis staff to undertake postgraduate study on a very liberalscale. This was all part of his own boundless activity, whichthose in contact with him felt it a privilege to share. His namewill long be remembered with respect and admiration."

Dr. J. B. McDoUGALL, formerly tuberculosis adviser to theWorld Health Organisation and from 1926 to 1945 medicaldirector of the British Legion Village, Preston Hall, died onSept. 30 at his home in Athens.