'With Compliments of the Author. 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 
OF 
WILLIAM L. KNIGHT, M.D., 
EX-PRESIDENT OF THE SOCIETY. 
BEAD BEFORE THE 
PHILADELPHIA COUNTY MEDICAL SOCIETY, 
October 15, 1877. 
BY 
HENRY H. SMITH, M. D., 
PRESIDENT OF THE SOCIETY. 
PRINTED BY ORDER OF THE 
PHILADELPHIA COUNTY MEDICAL SOCIETY. 
PHILADELPHIA: 
COLLINS, PRINTER, 705 JAYNE STREET. 
1878. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 
OF 
WILLIAM L. KNIGHT, M.D., 
EX-PRESIDENT OF THE SOCIETY. 
READ BEFORE THE 
PHILADELPHIA COUNTY MEDICAL SOCIETY, 
October 15, 1877. 
BY 
HENRY H. SMITH, M. D., 
PRESIDENT OF THE SOCIETY. 
PRINTED BY ORDER OF THE 
PHILADELPHIA COUNTY MEDICAL SOCIETY. 
PHILADELPHIA: 
Collins, printer, 705 jayne street. 
1878. At a meeting of tlie Philadelphia County Medical Society held October 15, 
1877, “on motion of Dr. Atkinson this Biography was referred to the State 
Medical Society, and two hundred and fifty additional copies ordered to he 
printed for distribution and the use of the author. 
H. LEAMAN, 
'Recording Secretary Phila. Co. Med. Soc.’1' 
Owing to the necessity of first forwarding this Biography to the State Society, 
the publication ordered in the above Resolution has consequently been delayed. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 
OF 
WILLIAM L. KNIGHT, M.D., 
OF PHILADELPHIA. 
The custom of commemorating, in some form, the death of one 
who has impressed his fellows by his virtues or his actions, is of 
very ancient date, and its continuance at present is not only evi- 
dence of its propriety, but of its filling a want that the mind of 
every person admits to exist. 
Among the ancients, each of the acquaintances of the deceased 
is said to have dropped a stone upon a spot consecrated to his 
memory, and thus, in proportion to the tributes made by friends, 
there was erected a monument that recalled to each traveller that 
in that place reposed the remains of one whom many had delighted 
to honor.' In accordance with this natural feeling, biography has 
always offered much that was attractive; enchaining the heart of 
the reader with irresistible interest, whilst furnishing instruction 
to every diversity of condition. Biography, it has been truly said, 
not only exhibits the human character in every possible phase, 
whether in the bustle and contests of public life, or in the retire- 
ment of domestic privacy, but also shows how all, whether humble 
or distinguished, have been liable to the same misfortunes, sustained 
the same trials, and only differed in the traits of character that 
enabled them to overcome, or led them to succumb in the contests 
of a checkered life. In this manner biography, like history, “teaches 
by its example.” 
In reading the biographies of eminent men, whether of war or 
peace, their histories naturally excite our highest admiration, al- 
though it is apt to make us feel that we cannot in any way equal 
them; but when biography portrays the mental and physical traits, 
as well as the daily trials of one whose more humble position and 
struggles in life are similar to those with which most of us are 
surrounded, it gains in interest and proves especially instructive 4 
to those who, at the commencement of their career, are apt to be 
disheartened by the obstacles that retard their desired success. 
In offering, in obedience to a resolution of this Society, a short 
history illustrative of the character of one of our former Presidents, 
I hope rather to instruct byr the study of his professional example 
and his private virtues, than dazzle or attract attention by any 
coloring of a character that, like the trailing Arbutus in its early 
spring, possesses beauty and fragrance, but lies so Ioav among the 
leaves of the forest that it needs to be sought for, as it is liable to 
bloom unseen by the rapid traveller over life’s rugged path. 
Dr. William Lambdin Knight was born near Wheeling, Virginia, 
on February 23d, 1811. His father lived on a farm, and, owing to 
the death of all his family, but little is known of his history, except 
that he was an active soldier in our war for independence, a fact 
the influence of which greatly controlled the position of his grand- 
sons during the late Avar, in which they bared their breasts to 
maintain the Union. Dr. Knight passed his early youth upon his 
father’s farm, helping to support the family of a sister and three 
brothers by his manual labor. “His opportunities for obtaining a 
literary education were exceedingly limited, being confined to a 
short season of instruction in the winter months, when the old log 
school-house was occupied by the travelling school-master.” In this 
respect, his means of education corresponded with that of several 
distinguished members of our profession, whose natural force of 
character and persistent efforts at self-development, eventually made 
them not only useful, but eminent, practitioners; thus Dr. Drake, 
who was so Avidely known, spent the first fifteen years of his life in 
such labors as the exigencies of his family" demanded, working upon 
a farm, tilling the soil, attending the cattle, and clearing the forest; 
whilst he went, from November to March, to the country school 
two miles distant from his father’s cabin, to be taught reading, 
writing, and ciphering as far as the rule of three, beyond which 
few of the teachers were able to go.1 
Dr. Charles Caldwell, of Kentucky, also had no instruction at 
school until he had completed his.ninth year, when he was sent to 
a log school-house three miles off, along a slight and devious cow- 
path, through a deep and tangled forest infested by wolves, Avild 
cats, and snakes, the latter being an especial object of dread to him, 
as he incidentally trod barefooted, or only Avith moccasins, what 
was to him the road to learning.2 How many of our city children 
1 Biography of Daniel Drake, by S. D. Gross, M.D. 
2 Autobiography of Charles Caldwell, M.D. 5 
at the present day would be supposed their anxious parents to 
be able to live through any such exposure? Now, India-rubber 
overshoes, heavy overcoats, furnace-heated houses, and the other 
injurious evidences of a so-called civilization, have supplanted the 
rugged habits gained by boys in countiy life, and, as a result, we 
present society with a race of men as delicate physically as they 
are feeble and wanting in self-reliance mentally. 
Dr. Knight’s mother is described as a most estimable Christian 
woman, who, by her precepts and example, early laid the foundation 
of his moral character; the fruit of such seed being harvested by 
him and extended to the family that in his manhood encircled his 
own hearth. At the age of eighteen, Dr. Knight lost his father, 
and the family removed to Newark, Licking County, Ohio. At 
this place he entered as clerk in the apothecary shop of Dr. Wilson, 
where his studious and industrious habits gained for him the esteem 
of his employer, and his assistance in obtaining a more extended 
education. His progress in this was so satisfactory, that in 1834, 
being then twenty-three years of age, he came to Philadelphia to 
obtain medical instruction. In order to aid in his support and pay 
for this instruction, he entered the Philadelphia Dispensary, on Fifth 
Street, as Resident Student, and, under the direction of his preceptor, 
Dr. Samuel McClellan, commenced in November, 1834, to attend 
the lectures of the Jefferson Medical College. At this period, the 
writer first knew him, and now recalls the habits of that time as 
illustrative of medical and social progress in Philadelphia since that 
period. 
At the Dispensary it was then the custom for the resident student 
to extract teeth and bleed all who called for such operations, and 
many a molar was jerked from the patient’s head across the floor, 
by means of the then favorite instrument known as the “ key.” 
Obstetrical cases were also not then part of the regular practice of 
the house, and Dr. Knight and the writer not unfrequently took 
charge of all who sought assistance in this way; the strong health 
and regular labor of this class of patients not requiring any great 
amount of skill on the part of the youthful medical attendant. One 
year the number of cases thus attended exceeded one hundred and 
twenty, and they aided in the acquisition of that skill as an obstet- 
rician, for which Dr. Knight was ultimately known. Subsequently, 
“The Nurses’ Home” was established, and there was created an 
obstetrical department of the Philadelphia Dispensary, under the 
charge of Dr. Joseph Warrington and others. Even at this time Dr. 
Knight was remarkable for the quiet dignity of his deportment. 
The Jefferson College at this period of its career was of but few 6 
years’ growth, and the prejudice and animosity excited among many 
in the profession, by the creation of a rival to the “old school,” had 
by no means disappeared, the medical quarrels of the day exercising 
an influence even upon the students of the two schools, that was 
occasionally apparent when then met. Many of the University boys 
looked with contempt on the povert}'-stricken students of the up- 
start college, and it was not an unfrequent occurrence, for a dozen 
University men, when they saw a “Jeff, student” near the end of a 
bench in the old rotunda of the Pennsylvania Hospital, on the occa- 
sion of an operation, by Rhea Barton, to move in a line upon the 
bench until they pushed him off, and compelled him to stand. Dr. 
Knight, however, was not thus treated, the impudent assumption 
of superiority by the University students of that day recognizing 
in him traits that they regarded as making him worthy of their 
condescending notice. Such were some of the pranks of student 
life during the year 1834. 
In March, 1837, Dr. Knight received his degree of M.D. from his 
now widely and well-known Alma Mater, which, by its talent and 
business tact, has been elevated to the first rank in medical educa- 
tion in the United States. His inaugural thesis was on the subject 
of hydrocephalus, or, as it is now more correctly designated, tuber- 
cular meningitis. After graduation, he resigned his position as 
Resident Student in the Dispensaiy, and opening an office on Thir- 
teenth Street, west side, near Spruce, he was elected one of the 
District Physicians of the Dispensary, a post which he continued 
to fill with great satisfaction, until the end of the period, five years, 
allotted to each prescriber, when he received from the Managers of 
the Institution, a handsome silver pitcher, as their recognition of 
liis assiduous devotion to the relief of the sufferings of those 
entrusted to his care. 
During these years he added to his slender income the salary 
paid him for keeping the books of a commercial house at night. 
His connection with the Philadelphia Dispensary as student and 
district physician, although apparently very humble and pecuniarily 
unprofitable, exercised a marked influence on his subsequent pro- 
fessional success, and became the foundation of the extensive and 
even lucrative practice that lie afterwards obtained; his professional 
income reaching at one time to the sum of $7000 per annum, this 
sum being of more value then than now, though even now it is rarely 
reached by the majority of the profession. 
In 1839, finding his professional success comparatively estab- 
lished, he married Miss Martha Howe Morris, of London, England, 
an accomplished and cultivated lady of extended family connections, 7 
with whom he became acquainted in Newark, Ohio. His practice 
and social life continuing to develop, he purchased, in 1844, the 
property at the northwest corner of Eighteenth and Vine Streets, 
part of a row of houses then popularly known as “ Lloyd’s Folly,” 
because located so far from the inhabited portions of Philadelphia. 
Logan Square was then called “ Potter’s Field,” the graves and a 
few tombstones being apparent through the paling fence that im- 
perfectly surrounded it. His untiring industry and devotion to his 
profession continuing to augment his means, he purchased the five 
lots in the rear of his residence, and erected thereon several four- 
story houses. The successful result of this investment led him, in 
1857, a period of great commercial depression, into another attempt 
to build a row of houses on Coates Street near Nineteenth, which 
resulted most disastrously, entailing a loss of nearly $50,000, and 
crippling him for the rest of his life; another illustration 
of the truth of the proverb as derived from Appelles, “Ne sutor 
supra crepidam.” 
In 1862 he lost, by consumption, his dearly loved wife, who had 
borne him two daughters and three sons, and three months subse- 
quently he lost his elder and lovely daughter. Depressed by these 
deaths, and by the absence and exposure in battle of his sons during 
the Rebellion, he alone found solace in the constant occupation of 
his mind by devoted attention to his practice, and by the consola- 
tion of that religious education received in youth from his mother, 
and cultivated in after life by his own firm convictions of moral duty. 
In 1870 he married Miss Harriet Louisa South, only daughter of 
George W. South, a well-known citizen of Philadelphia, who now 
outlives him. This union proved a most happy one, the intellectual 
and religious cultivation of his wife contributing greatly to his 
temporal and spiritual comfort. Dr. Knight frequently alluded to 
his happiness in this union, and to the fact that he and his wife 
made it a practice to read each day a chapter in the Bible, morning 
and evening, and that he had thus, in seven years, read the Bible 
through and through many times. 
During a greater part of his medical life, Dr. Knight attended to 
his extensive practice on foot, even at the time when street cars 
were at every corner, to contribute, as he thought, to the indolent 
habits of those who were too lazy to walk; a result not by any 
means imaginary, it being well known that when our city volun- 
teers were, by the exigencies of service, required to march a few 
miles, dozens of them broke down and became foot-sore under ex- 
ercise that a farmer following the plow would regard as a medium 
day’s labor. 8 
In 1875, Dr. Knight first began to exhibit evidence of the devel- 
opment of the disease which eventually caused his death, and he be- 
gan to complain of vesical distress, with excruciating dorsal pain, 
which greatly interfered with his activity. Notwithstanding the 
urgent requests of his medical friends that he would save his 
strength, he continued to perform his usual duties, often losing at 
the bedside of a patient the night’s rest that was so necessary to 
his existence, and continuing even through the winter’s storms to 
tread from house to house of the sick and suffering; many of whom 
were only the recipients of his professional charity, thus furnishing 
an example of self-sacrifice and conscientious devotion to duty for 
the benefit of others that is rarely seen. 
In the latter days of his illness, he often spoke of his attendance 
on the poor, as affording him great consolation in the reflection that 
during a very long and active practice, “ he had, literally, never 
turned his face from any poor man.” Indeed, throughout his life, 
he was greatly interested in the welfare of those whose lot seemed 
to have been cast in hard places, and he frequently remarked to his 
family, “ that the deep gratitude of the poor for his little attentions 
and services gave him an inexpressible pleasure.” On one occa- 
sion, an old hod-carrier came to the house shortly after his death, 
and told the family that Dr. Knight had faithfully attended his wife 
and family for twenty-five years, commencing by an attendance on 
him one bleak winter, when his toes had been frozen, nursing him 
faithfully for six weeks, and when he had recovered, and borrowed 
some money to pay his bill, Dr. Knight refused to receive it, say- 
ing, “ Never mind that now, Jerry: wait till the summer comes and 
work is steady, and your family is provided for, and then you can 
call and pay me.” 
The symptoms arising from an enlarged prostate gland continu- 
ing to develop, his sufferings became intense, requiring the constant 
use of the catheter, which he would himself often pass every half 
hour, in the hope of obtaining relief. 
Notwithstanding the kind and constant attentions of several 
medical friends, his suffering continued : so renting his house and 
furniture for a year, about July, 1876, he removed to No. 4043 San- 
som Street, West Philadelphia, hoping to regain his health by rest 
in a locality where he was not liable to the calls of patients, who 
constantly wished to consult him, even in his sick chamber. 
From this time until his death, in May, 1877, he was confined to 
his bed, emaciating to a most marked degree, suffering intensely 
day and night, yet bearing all with patient resignation. So great 
was his agonj’, that anaesthetics alone made him insensible to them. 9 
During this period, he was also afflicted by the death of his two 
sons: William, who had been in the Navy, died suddenly of heart 
disease whilst on a visit to his father, and John Garrison, his sec- 
ond son, who died after a brief illness of pneumonia, at Cincinnati, 
where he had settled. These bereavements were borne with the 
same Christian resignation that had always distinguished his cha- 
racter, and although he realized the fact that his stay on earth was 
very short, he continued cheerful, and often spoke to. his devoted 
wife and only remaining son of his trust in the promises of God 
and the pleasure which he experienced in contemplating the change 
from this transitory life of pain, to that which should endure for an 
eternity of bliss. He frequently alluded to the time when he should 
rest quietly and unconsciously, in his beautiful lot at Laurel Hill, 
alongside of the loved ones who had preceded him. Everything 
that a most faithful and untiring love in a wife could do, by care- 
ful nursing, night and day, for weeks and months, was done; but 
at last, on Thursday, May 31, 1877, he called her to him, and plac- 
ing her hand upon his heart, ceased to breathe; the smile on his 
face apparently indicating his recognition of the beatitudes of a 
future existence. 
Thus passed from earth a spirit so free from guile, and so devoted 
to duty, that we, his former associates, may advantageously pause 
and study the moral of his life and his many virtues, as he tried to 
imitate the charity and benevolence depicted in the doctrines of 
him who is so well designated as the “ Great Physician.” 
In the character of Dr. Knight, as thus briefly and imperfectly 
sketched, we have an illustration of the firm and solid progress 
made in a professional career, that commencing, apparently, under 
the least favorable circumstances financially and socially, ended 
crowned with honors and success. From the limited education of 
the country school-house, he, by assiduous effort, chiefly of himself, 
developed a literary and medical culture that enabled him, though 
an entire stranger in a large city, to become well and favorably 
known, and to secure a large share of popular confidence in his 
abilities and medical skill. Such an example cannot but prove 
encouraging to the many young men in our profession, whose early 
struggles are somewhat similar, and seem to be so hopeless of ulti- 
mate success. His devotion to practice is shown in the fact that 
for eighteen years he was never out of the city. Again, his devo- 
tion to the poor became an element of success, that constituted 
him the much esteemed physician of many who would be spoken of 
as the rich, and whose appreciation of his services created the bulk 
of that income which proved sufficient for his tastes, and enabled 10 
him to educate and rear in comfort a family, whose training, re-de- 
veloped the industry and self-reliance that soon made them inde- 
pendent of a father’s assistance. 
But Dr. Knight’s culture was not, by any means, limited to his 
profession, or to objects connected with it. Although favored by 
few of the opportunities enjoyed at the present day by those who 
can cultivate the arts, through the means of travel and artistic 
teachings, he exhibited a taste and judgment in the selection of 
paintings that made him the owner of many excellent illustrations, 
and added to the charms and pleasures of his residence. To music 
he was also quite devoted, pla3'ing, at one period of his life, upon 
the clarionet, and giving to all his children a somewhat extended 
musical culture, that resulted in pleasant concerts of performers 
who were entirely of his own household and their immediate friends. 
The musical compositions of both classical and modern composers 
had for him attractions that were often gratified, and helped to 
lighten the fatigue of a day, or even night, of professional toil. 
I)r. Knight was also an ardent admirer of the beautiful and 
curious in works of sculpture, and he rarely missed an opportunity 
of being present at sales of collections of art, bric-a-brac, or libraries, 
and, when his means permitted it, purchased liberally, so that his 
residence contained quite a collection at the time of his death. In 
his office were to be seen busts of such characters as he greatly 
revered, as Hippocrates, Washington, Webster, Milton, Napoleon, 
etc., with portraits of Sir Harry Slocum, Astrue, Cooper, J. C. 
Warren, Boerliaave, and Rush. In his hall and stairways were 
statues of the “Fisher Boy” and “Greek Slave,” with Rogers’s 
group of “The Wounded Scout,” bust of Heloise, etc. Of his 
paintings, he placed great value on a large one which he obtained 
after much searching for it. This picture, of six feet by four, occu- 
pied the main wall of his library, and represented the love of Antio- 
chus and the skill and wisdom of Erasistratus, his physician. The 
subject of the picture, as given in Plutarch’s well-known life of 
Demetrius, is as follows: “Antiochus was violently enamored of 
the young Stratonice, though she had had a son by his father. 
Being extremely unhappy, he made the strongest efforts to conquer 
his passion, but without avail. At last, owing to the violence of 
his desires, and there being no prospect of his satisfying them, he 
determined to destroy his life, and feigned sickness. Ilis physician, 
Erasistratus, easily discovered that his distemper was love, but 
was unable to conjecture who was the object of it. In order to 
accomplish this, he spent whole days in the sick man’s chamber, 
and whenever any beautiful person of either sex entered it, he 11 
observed carefully, not only the look of Antiochus, but every part 
and motion of the body, which most perfectly sympathizes with the 
soul. When others entered, the patient remained entirely unaffected, 
but when Stratoniee came in, as she often did, he exhibited all the 
symptoms described by Sappho, as ‘the faltering voice, the burning 
blush, the languid eye, the sudden sweat, the tumultuous pulse, 
until at length, the passion overcoming his spirits, there wras a de- 
liquium and mortal paleness.’ From these symptoms, Erasistratus 
concluded that the prince was in love with Stratoniee, but intended 
to carry his secret with him to the grave. Depending on the affec- 
tion that the king had for his son, he ventured to tell him one day, 
that the young man’s disorder was love, an impracticable, incurable 
love. ‘How, incurable love?’ said the king. ‘ Why,’ said Erasis- 
tratus, ‘lie is in love with my wife.’ ‘ What,’ said the king, ‘would 
you, who are my friend, refuse to give up your wife to my son, 
when you see us in danger of losing our only hope?’ ‘Would you 
do such a thing?’ demanded the physician, ‘if he were in love with 
Stratoniee?’ ‘O my friend,’replied Seleucus, ‘how happy should 
I be, if either God or man could transfer his affections thither. I 
would give up my kingdom, so I could but keep Antiochus,’ and he 
pronounced these words with so much emotion and profusion of 
tears, that Erasistratus took him by the hand and said, ‘Then there 
is no need of Erasistratus, you who are a father, husband, and king, 
will be the best physician.’ ” This varied subject has been well dis- 
played by the artist, and his illustration of the emotions of youth, 
as well as the calm judgment and skill of the aged physician, seem 
to have had great charms for Dr. Knight, who often spoke of the 
years he had spent in watching for and purchasing this picture. 
He was especially fond of contemplating the historical traits of 
Erasistratus, his devoted attendance for whole days at a time in 
the sick man’s chamber that nothing might escape his observa- 
tion; his careful recognition of the relation of the emotions to the 
physical disturbances of the corporeal functions; his tact and wis- 
dom in divining the special cause of his disorder, and his strategy in 
inducing the king to yield to the ardent and unreasonable, as well 
as immoral, wishes of his son, in order to preserve his life and con- 
tinue his dynasty; results, the importance of which, this wise court 
physician recognized as justifying the employment of special means 
for their acquisition. 
Among other paintings collected by Dr. Knight was a large 
“Madonna,” of eight by nine feet, by Carlo Moratti, another large 
painting of the “Rejection of Hagar,” of the “Samaritan Woman 
at the Fountain asking the Saviour for the Water of Life,” and the 12 
Salutation of Elizabeth by the Virgin Mary;” all painted to his 
order from the celebrated originals in the Dresden and other Euro- 
pean galleries. 
The personal appearance of Dr. Knight was pleasing and attrac- 
tive. He was about six feet in stature, well formed, erect, and 
somewhat military in his carriage, with a high forehead, gray e_yes, 
prominent nose, hair turned back from his forehead, and of a 
gracious and polished demeanor; presenting all the traits of a 
benevolent, well-educated gentleman. His smile was attractive 
and gave evidence of kindness and also humor, the latter being 
sometimes exhibited in his casual intercourse with patients whom 
he met. A lady, who had great confidence in his skill, speaking of 
him, said, “My children miss Dr. Knight almost as much as I do; 
he was always kind to them and sometimes would pat their heads 
in the street, and tell them to put out their tongues, and then, with 
a merry twinkle in his eye, say, ‘Run home and tell mother the 
doctor said you might have some ice-cream,’ which they always 
obtained, as with me his opinion, even in trifles, was law.” 
In his religious belief he was a member of the Protestant Epis- 
copal Church, and devoted himself and family to attendance on that 
service under the pastorate of the Rev. Dr. Suddards. But, though 
firm in his own opinions, he was liberal in his views of the rights of 
others, and was always popular with priests and ministers of other 
denominations. His deep reverence for the sincere worshipper of 
God, under any form of Christian doctrine, gave him a hold upon 
the affections of his patients in their varied sorrows, which can only 
be appreciated b}r those who witnessed the grief of those who called 
on his family, on hearing of his death. His rule of life appeared to 
be the full performance of his duty “ in that state of life to which it 
had pleased God to call him,” and hence he was seldom absent from 
his post; but, with that exalted standard of the high calling of his 
chosen profession, seemed to extract his highest pleasure from a 
faithful attendance on suffering. 
His deportment in the sick-room was uniformly cheerful and en- 
couraging, and, as an old patient of forty years’ standing remarked 
a short time since, “his presence in my room seemed to do as much 
good as his medicine.” His success in obstetrics was justly earned, 
and his large practice in that line bears evidence of his skill. In 
consultation with his brother practitioners, Dr. Knight was re. 
markable for punctuality and decorum, never making a suggestion 
in treatment merely for the sake of change, and always expressing 
candidly and fully his reasons for the opinion that he diffidently 
presented. Though always courteous and very considerate of the 13 
reputation of the attending physician, he was firm in his own 
opinions, which were generally based on his own practical knowl- 
edge, rather than on that given in books. In the treatment of puer- 
peral convulsions, whilst admitting the beneficial effects of anaesthe- 
tics, especially before delivery was accomplished, he was also partial 
to the old practice of venesection. He was very watchful of the 
patient before labor; regulating diet and directing exercise to be 
freely taken. If any marked evidence appeared of general oedema, 
without pretending to explain its origin physiologically, he at once 
resorted to purgatives and diuretics, and these failing, recommended 
the moderate letting of blood. He was rather timid in the use of 
the forceps, and never attempted even a simple surgical operation ; 
although always assisting, with perfect sang froid, the surgeon in 
attendance on his patients. 
On a beautiful elevation, in the central portion of Middle Laurel 
Hill, overlooking a charming view of the winding Schuylkill River, 
with its hills and forests adding to its varying beauties, there stands 
a lofty monument, built (from a model made by Dr. Knight) of 
European marble, triangular in its base, as emblematical of the 
doctrine of the Holy Trinity. Upon this base rests three broken 
columns of different heights, illustrative of the varied lengths of the 
term of life of those whose burial was thus marked. On one side 
in large letters is the simple name of “ Knight,” whilst another in- 
scription indicates that here reposed the remains of the beloved wife 
and two daughters of our late member. Adjacent to this is a simple, 
newly-sodded mound that shows that with “earth to earth, and 
ashes to ashes,” the corporeal remains of our former President 
mingle in one common dust, awaiting the realization of that doc- 
trine in which he had so strong a belief, that at the last day “ all 
should be raised, incorruptible, at the sound of the trump; in the 
twinkling of an eye all should be changed; for this corruptible 
must put on incorruption, and this mortal put on immortality.” 
Dr. Knight, though a great reader, wrote but little, and no record 
has been found of any medical paper written by him, either read 
before this Society or published in the journals; the knowledge of his 
opinions in practice, just cited, being from the personal observation 
of the writer. In his inaugural remarks,1 as President of this Society, 
he suggested and strongly urged the members to obtain a hall and 
1 His address, as retiring President, was an eulogy of Dr. Rush, one whose 
character and professional traits he greatly revered. So great, however, was 
Dr. Knight’s diffidence of his own abilities that he desired no special announce- 
ment should be made of his paper, and it was consequently read in the presence 
of but few of our members at a special meeting of the Society. 14 
establish a library and museum, intending, no doubt, to donate his 
own collection of over 3000 volumes as a nucleus for this purpose. 
Among the varied works contained in his collection are to be found 
some rare copies that would delight a bibliophile. Of these, there 
is one volume, entitled “ Sphera Mundi,” being essays by Esculani, 
Lapuani, and others, published by Jacobi Fabri Sapulentis, Venice, 
1499, or fifty-nine years after the invention of printing; “Dictiona- 
rium Medieum, vel expositionis vocum medicinalia, ad verbum ex- 
cerptse, ex Hippocrates, Aretocus, Galieno,” etc., published by H. 
Stephon, 1564; a copy of “Anatomicum Fallopii, De Secretione 
Humorum e Sanguinis, et Solidorum,” etc., by Andrea Vesalii 
1564; “Codex Medicamentarius, seu Pharmaeopea Parisiensis,” 
par Phillippo Ilarduino, 1645; Nicolai Stenonis, “de Musculis et 
Glandulis,” 1664; “ Baptista Mantuamus, Carmelita Theologia,” 
Antwerp, 1546; and many others, valuable as historical records. 
The loss of these to this Society is, I think, entirely due to the 
want of an appropriate hall in which to place them. 
He also urged the formation of a fund to assist members of the 
Society who wished to engage in original work, and who had not 
the means of publishing anything of value that they might be able 
to present to the considei'ation of the Society. Both these plans 
seemed to have failed for want of interest in them on the part of 
the members. 
Dr. Knight was elected a member of this in 1851, and 
took a deep interest in it, and, indeed, in all associations tending 
to elevate and increase the dignity and usefulness of the medical 
profession. He was a delegate from this Society to the State 
Medical Society in 1856, ’59, ’60, ’61, ’62, ’64, ’67, ’68, and ’70, and 
the American Medical Association in 1865, ’66, ’67, ’68, ’70, and 
’71. He was elected Vice-President of this Society in January, 1866, 
and President in 1869. He also served assiduously as one of the 
Censors for five yTears, being a stern supporter of professional eti- 
quette and propriety. 
Such was the quiet, unobtrusive life of Dr. Knight, that com- 
paratively few of the great mass of mankind knew of his existence; 
but of this relatively small number, nearly all recognized and ad- 
mitted his influence upon their lives and happiness. The material 
elements of his frame, as has been well said (in an article on the 
soul and future life),1 “are scattered in dust and gases; but the 
moral energy of his character yet continues, and will continue, to 
1 Frederick Harrison, in “Nineteenth Century,” as quoted in the Popular 
Science Monthly. 15 
exercise a powrer that is, perhaps, even greater than it would have 
been during his life; just as the acts of all men are often most 
influential in a community after the passion and prejudice created 
by their opposition has passed away.” “ The true works of Socra- 
tes,” says the distinguished writer from whom I quote, ‘‘and his 
life, only began with his resplendent death; his true influence be- 
ginning when the surging of passion ended.” 
The power exerted by Shakspeare over successive generations 
yet continues, and every scholar now enjoys and admits the pleasure 
and moral influence of his intellect, not only in the land in which 
he was born, but on every nation and every tongue that is suffi- 
ciently cultivated to receive the impressions of his genius. This 
influence has been so beautifully expressed by a well-known poet,1 
that I quote his description at length:— 
“How little fades from earth when sink to rest 
The hours and cares that move a great man’s breast; 
Though naught of all we know the grave may spare, 
His life pervades the world’s impregnate air. 
Though Shakspeare’s dust beneath our footsteps lies, 
H is spirit breathes amid his native skies ; 
With meaning, won from him, forever glows 
Each air that England feels and star it knows; 
His whispered words from many a mother’s voice 
Can make her sleeping child in dreams rejoice; 
And gleams from spheres he first conjoined to earth 
Are blent with rays of each new morning’s birth; 
Amid the sights and tales of common things 
Leaf, flower, and bird, and wars, and death of kings; 
Of shore and sea and nature’s daily round 
Of life that tills, and tombs that load, the ground, 
His visions mingle, swell, command, pace by, 
And haunt with living presence, heart and eye ; 
And tones from him, by other bosoms caught, 
Awaken, flush, and stir each mounting thought; 
And the long sigh and deep, impassioned thrill 
Rouse custom’s trance and spur the faltering will. 
Above the goodly land, more his than ours, 
He sits supreme, enthroned in skyey towers, 
And sees the heroic brood of his creation 
Teach larger life to his ennobled nation. 
O shaping brain! O flashing fancy’s hues ! 
O boundless heart, kept fresh by pity’s dews! 
0 wit humane and blithe! 0 sense sublime, 
In each dull oracle of mantled time. 
1 John Sterling. 16 
Transcendent form of man! in whom we read 
Mankind’s whole tale of impulse, thought, and deed, 
Amid the expanse of years beholding thee 
We know how vast our world of life may be, 
Wherein, perchance with aims as pure as thine, 
Small tasks and strength may be no less divine.” 
Though we can trace this posthumous power best in the case of 
great men, it is not confined to them. Not a single act of thought 
or character ends with itself; “ not a single nature in its entirety, but 
leaves an influence for good or evil;” “as a fact the good prevails, 
but all acts continue indefinitely in ever-widening circles; every 
life more or less forms another life, and lives in another life. The 
worthy gain in power and in range in each generation ; and in some 
infinitesimal degree, the humblest life that ever turned a sod sends 
a wave—nay, more than a wave—a life, through the ever-growing 
harmony of human society.” “We are not,” continues this writer, 
“inventing an imaginary world, we are only repeating truths. The 
idea, no doubt, is usually limited to the famous and the great in 
civilization; but no one who thinks it out carefully can deny that 
it is true of every member of society in some lesser degree.”1 
That every member of this Association possesses and exercises a 
beneficial influence upon others is recognized by us all in the exist- 
ence of the by-law in accordance with which we are assembled at 
present, and as biography is intended to furnish us with the marked 
traits of both public and private character, I have endeavored to 
delineate them with due regard to truth. Professionally, Dr. 
Knight’s influence was mainly shown as the physician at the bed- 
side. Ilis medical skill and judgment were recognized as sound, 
by both the profession and the public, and though all must regret 
that his natural diffidence prevented his extending his influence in 
a wider circle, through the medium of the press, yet was his knowl- 
edge not without fruit, as shown by his success as a physician. His 
life may rather be regarded as furnishing a happy illustration of 
the elevating and refining influence of the study of medicine, on 
the associations and duties of private life, than as evidence of a 
brilliant intellect. Starting under the most disadvantageous cir- 
cumstances, without money and without friends, he could, at the 
end of his career, look back with pride on extended professional 
success, on children trained to be useful members of and to 
the enjoyment of the blessings of married life in a marked degree. 
Such a life is certainly possessed of many charms, and in its 
1 Harrison, in the “ Nineteenth Century,” as quoted by the Popular Science 
Monthly. quiet acquisition of a large share of human happiness—though by 
no means free from serious afflictions and grief—it presents results 
that are not as happily developed in those whom ambition, and a 
more extended sphere of action, have given a more prominent 
position, or attracted a larger share of public attention. 
In the life of Dr. Knight we r’eadily recognize the certain result 
of an unswerving devotion to duty, in every position in which he 
was placed : as a man, as a physician, as a husband and as a father 
Reverencing all that was noble and good, and with unusually high 
conception of the lofty character of the true physician, he so 
moulded and conformed his conduct as to keep his ideal ever before 
him ; seeking by his meek and unassuming deportment, rather the 
approbation of God and his own conscience, than the applause or 
praise of his fellow-men. 
In thus imperfectly delineating the professional and moral traits 
of one of the most unobtrusive yet high-toned members of our 
Society, I cannot finish the description of his character without 
again calling your attention to his strongest peculiarity, viz., a 
marked reverence for every person and action that in any way ten- 
ded to elevate and improve the moral or physical condition of our 
community. In religion, he worshipped his God and revered his 
ministers, no matter under what form of sectarian doctrine they 
taught the great precepts of a divine Christianity. In his profession, 
he constantly studied and practised the rules of the eminent physi- 
cians whose aphorisms and discoveries constitute the basis of our 
knowledge at the present day. He never forgot that the medicine 
of to-day was fore-shadowed and largely endowed by the knowledge 
and skill of the ancients from the time of Hippocrates and Galen, 
if not from an earlier period among the Egyptians and Assyrians ; 
and he always showed his sense of obligation to them by his esti- 
mate of the value of their doctrines. 
A firm believer in the medical theory of corporeal “ evolution,” 
he did not hesitate to extend his views to the condition of the soul 
in the future life, never being willing to admit that the great minds 
for which he entertained such marked administration ceased to be 
useful and passed into unconsciousness, on the death of the corpo- 
real frames that were simply the caskets that held and exhibited 
the brilliant jewels of their intellects. 
Recognizing, as we all do, the origin of human live in the smallest 
of “germ cells,” he, like others, would trace its development from 
“ the infant mewling and puking in its nurse’s arms,” to the noblest 
specimen of the full-grown man, erect and god-like in his carriage, 
and in the image of Him who had created him and breathed into his 18 
nostrils the breath of life, by and through which “ man became a 
living soul.” May we not reverently recognize the continued 
“evolution” of this soul, which, when returned, at the death of the 
body, “ to Him who gave it,” does not perish, but continues to ex- 
tend in the next world that influence for good or for evil for which 
it was noted in this ? May we not believe that this immaterial soul 
will continue in its celestial existence, to exercise those traits of 
character that have so favorably impressed all with whom it came in 
contact in this terrestrial life, and may we not recognize the possi- 
bility of such a result, in specially noting how our deceased member 
exhibited the influence on his. own character, as a man and .as a 
physician, of those whose mental and corporeal developments he 
continued to keep so constantly before him, by surrounding himself 
with the works of art that I have before alluded to. 
In his collection of busts, paintings, and statuary, there was a 
method indicative of more than the mere pleasing of an {esthetic 
culture. The subjects in his collection were evidently selected with 
care and forethought, and in every instance illustrated not only his 
taste, but also his reverence, I might almost say adoration, of 
everything noble in religion, or instructive in public or private life, 
and these he used as a foundation on which to build and form his 
own character, and then 
“ So lived, that when the summons came to join 
The innumerable caravan which moves 
To that mysterious realm where each shall take 
His chamber in the silent halls of Death, 
He went not, like the quarry-slave at night, 
Scourged to his dungeon ; but, sustained and soothed 
By an unfaltering trust, he approached his grave 
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch 
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.” ' 
1 Bryant’s Thanatopsis.