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J. PATIL BACT.-VOL. 83

Henry Roy Dean, 19th February 1879–13th February 1961

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J. PATIL BACT.-VOL. 83

OBITUARY NOTICES O F DECEASED MEMBERS

lbenrp 1Rop Bean 19th February 1879-13th February 1961

(PLATES CLXIV AND CLXV)

HENRY ROY DEAN was born at Bournemouth on February 19th, 1879, the son of Joshua and Elizabeth Dean. An uncle on his mother’s side was Sir William MacCormac, a president of the Royal College of Surgeons, who Dean used to say was the subject of Sir Luke Fildes’ well known picture of “ The Doctor ” in the Tate Gallery. Whether this is so or not is open to discussion, but Dean believed it, and in any case he may well have inherited some medical ability.

He went to Sherborne School where he was in the shooting eight and ultimately Head of the School. From Sherborne he went to New College Oxford, where he gained a swimming blue, and to St Thomas’s Hospital, London. After qualifying he became Resident Assistant Physician and Medical Registrar at St Thomas’s, and then obtained a senior demyship (virtually a junior fellowship) a t Magdalen, a research fellowship of the Salter’s Company in pharmacology, and a Radcliffe Travelling Fellowship, which took him to Germany where he worked under Abderhalden and Wassermann. On his return to England he was appointed an assistant bacteriologist at the Lister Institute.

In 1912 he left London for the Chair of Pathology and Bacteriology at Sheffield, succeeding J. M. Beattie who had gone to the chair of Bacteriology at Liverpool. Dean’s interests up to this time had been mainly in bacteriology and immunology, and his appointment to Sheffield caused some surprise. It is probable that the prescience of Arthur Hall-a great formative influence in the Sheffield Medical School, where he came to be affectionately known as “ Lord Arthur ”- had much to with it. It was here that I first met Dean: I had applied for a junior demonstratorship in pathology and duly presented myself for interview one late summer afternoon at the top of the western staircase of Sheffield’s red-brick quadrangle. Here, at the door of the Pathology Department, I met a curious misshapen dwarf of a man, memorable for a single prominent tooth in the middle of his upper jaw. This was Robert Frost, a laboratory factotum of the old type, and a most accomplished craftsman. He surveyed me with no great favour and proceeded to take me to “ t’ Chief ”. I saw, sitting a t a bench pipetting fluid into rows of test-tubes and clad in a linen gown of unusual design, a large round-faced young man in a light suit with a knitted bright-ginger tie, who looked up with a wide and friendly

J. PATH. BACT.-POL. 83 (1962) 587

588 HENRY ROY DEAN

grin and said : ‘‘ I’m doing Wassermanns for my sins ”. Rather taken aback, for the Scottishprofessorsof my previous contact had mostly been elderly and rather portentous, and hoping to appear intelligent, for it was in the days when this test was something of a mystery and I had been taught by one of its prophets, I said : “ Whose method do you use ‘1 ” “ Wassermann’s ” was the deflating reply, but given with a chuckle and such pleased inward humour that I felt I had made rather a good joke ! We went to Dean’s house for dinner and afterwards, as we sat and smoked by the fire, he told me he would appoint me. It was the beginning of a long friendship that I count as one of the privi- leges of my life.

In the summer of 1914 the Pathological Society met in Cambridge, and together we gave a paper on immunisation with sensitised corpuscles. A few weeks later the country was a t war, and all that seemed so settled in our lives and friendships and the ways of the world was on the change. A year later Dean moved to Manchester to replace Boycott, who had gone to University College, London. Up to this time his reputation had been that of a singularly bright and promising research worker who was making for himself a niche in the difficult and rather obscure field of immunology. His personal contribution was well summarised in the Horace Dobell lecture he gave at the Royal College of Physicians in 1916. On re-reading this, almost half a century later, it is something of an effort to recall that at the time it was written there was no effective fractionation of the plasma proteins, that biochemistry was hesitatingly entering the protein field, and that the theories of immunity were dictated by the massive authority of Ehrlich. Dean boldly criticised Ehrlich’s con- ception of different orders of antibodies and receptors, each reaction being “ an entirely separate and distinct phenomenon the result of a highly specialised chemical substance expressly manufactured for the purpose ”, and he chided the ever-increasing theoretical complexity that was evolved to sustain the side-chain hypothesis and adapt it to each newly discovered fact : ‘( Ignorance ”, he said I‘ however aptly veiled in an attractive terminology, remains ignorance ”. He went on to conclude : “ It seem8 to me probable that these phenomena are the result of one fundamental reaction which takes place between antigen and antibody ”. By exact well-designed quantitative titrations he demonstrated the relationship of precipitate formation and comple- ment fixation in an antigen-antibody system, and suggested that complement-binding power was related to the surface and rate of formation of a precipitate, concluding that “ the various serum reactions are various methods of observing and measuring a single reaction ”. In these experiments there is a clear indication of the principle of optimum proportions, which he subsequently enunciated with R. A. Webb in 1926.

A major effect of Dean’s move to Manchester was to put an end to this phase of his career, and he never recovered the even continuity

OBITUARY 589

which so far had marked his research work. The tremendous adventure of the war, his duties as a temporary major in the R.A.M.C.(T), with the burden of the problems of the 2nd Western General Hospital, lack of University staff and, from 1918-1919, the deanship of the Medical Faculty, absorbed his energies. Some of these problems he met by the creation of a scratch team of helpers, which included three biologists, a librarian, and an insurance clerk, several of whom sub- sequently qualified in medicine, to carry out much of the routine work under his instruction. The war brought with i t not only a greatly increased dependence upon the few laboratory investigations then current, but the introduction of many new ones. Amongst the more pressing problems were the epidemics of meningococcal meningitis in camps and barracks and the search for carriers, the anaerobic infections of wounds-up to that time save for tetanus an almost unexplored field, in which the literature was confusing and largely erroneous- dysentery and attempts to develop a vaccine against it, the influenza epidemic of 1918, when the cricket pavilion at Old Trafford was full of cases of this very fatal disease, and finally the growing menace of venereal disease. Dean played his part in grappling with most of these problems and made his contribution to the accruing corpus of knowledge. He treated cases of tetanus with intravenous antitoxic serum under deep chloroform anmthesia, which seemed to him the most logical way, and his published results gave support to his views. I well remember, when on leave from France, paying him a visit in the grim fastnesses of the Medical School in Oxford Road one raw and foggy winter evening, and being told: “I’m going to Utter Bolton to see a case of tetanus ” ; and off we jogged, in the darkness of an unlit ambulance, on what seemed an interminable journey through East Lancashire.

During the war and more especially towards its end there developed an aroused public consciousness of venereal diseases, helped along by stage plays (“ Damaged Goods ”) and widespread propaganda. The Public Health Regulations (1916) made provision for laboratory tests and the establishment of clinics, and called for a vast expansion of work of this type. Dean clearly saw the danger of the essential sero- logical work being ill-performed in a multitude of small laboratories, and with his faithful aides A. F. C. Davy and R. M. Pearce arranged so efficient a service that a large proportion of the V.D. work between Carlisle and Crewe came to Manchester University’s Pathological Department. The not inconsiderable financial return accrued wholly to the service of the Department or to the University chest.

But of still greater moment was the clamour of the many academic problems that had had to be set aside during the emergency and now for many reasons became urgent, among them the great increase in the number of students, including a sturdy batch returning from the war. The department’s laboratories were small and old, and expansion was long overdue. The University acted energetically in material matters

590 HENRY ROY DEAN

and with the advent of Stopford to the Chair of Anatomy and A. V. Hill to that of Physiology the Medical School began to take on a new look. A fresh spirit was abroad animating the structure and teaching of scientific medicine; the horizon was opening with the freeing of ideas that had been germinating during five years of war and now could be put into use. The Haldane report, which had been published in 1914 and contained the then well-nigh revolutionary suggestion of whole-time clinical chairs, was taken off the shelf, and Abraham Flexner was stumping Europe collecting and disseminating ideas which added leaven to the general fermentation. Dean had given much thought to the teaching and general set-up of his department, and now that i t became possible to expand it he developed the three divisions of pathology, bacteriology and chemical pathology, each under the charge of a senior lecturer, whose salaries were unusually good by the standards of those days. Much collective effort by the whole staff went to the improvement of teaching, which in the practical classes was partly Socratic and partly modelled on the case system then being developed by Lorrain Smith in Edinburgh.

It is small wonder that, in the exciting and thrusting days that followed the 191618 war, and with the return of many eager young men full of the ideas stimulated by their recent experience and the urge that wars give to the flow of scientific advances, a department headed by a young man of attractive personality and sympathetic mind drew to it many Manchester men who in later years were to make their mark both in that School and in a wider field. Dean was caught in this general upsurge in the development of medical education and his mind turned more and more to the future of pathology. He expounded his ideas in a noteworthy lecture in Edinburgh and soon afterwards received an invitation to the chair of bacteriology a t Uni- versity College Hospital. This he accepted, I believe with some mis- givings. But Dean was not destined for Gower Street. Before he was due to take up the appointment came the offer of the chair at Cam- bridge where he passed the rest of his life.

It is no disparagement of Sims Woodhead to say that when Dean succeeded him in 1922 he brought a breath of fresh air into a somewhat stagnant atmosphere. Woodhead had been in ofice for some twenty- three years and had served the University and medical science well : moreover his niche is secured for ever by his founding the Journal of Pathology and Bacteriology. Nevertheless the department, which was housed in a gloomy building shared with other medical departments, the medical library, and a bacteriological laboratory mainly concerned with teaching for the D.P.H., was ill-equipped and in part given over to the standardisation of sera for a commercial firm; the staffing was complicated and meagre.

If one looks back over a space of forty years Dean’s main achieve- ments in Cambridge would seem to divide themselves between the creation of a new department of pathology, with the establishment of

OBITUARY 59 1

the subject as a major one a t Cambridge, and work of a more purely administrative type as a member of the University and Master of Trinity Hall.

To appreciate the changes he brought about in the teaching of pathology it is necessary to recall that previously the only instruction available to the Cambridge student was a short course-known colloquially in undergraduate parlance as “ Bugs and Drugs ”. This embraced elementary general pathology and bacteriology, and pharma- cology, and was not compulsory, although it was customary for most men to attend it before going to a London hospital for their clinical studies. Dean’s desire was to develop a school of pathology of a high scientific standard, and the opportunity of doing this presented itself at Cambridge where it could be built into an existing Honours Science course. I n the attempt he met with a certain amount of opposition, which was not altogether surprising or illogical if it be granted that the introduction of a subject necessarily in part clinical or “ vocational ” might muddy the pure waters of a Natural Sciences degree. In default of the admission of pathology to Part I of the Tripos Dean secured its recognition as a subject for the more advanced Part 11. This was in a way anomalous since the subject had no place in Part I , but its admis- sion was made easier by the fact that biochemistry was knocking a t the same gate. The first of such courses was begun in 1924, and in spite of the fact that it necessitated an entire year’s extra study it was an immediate success, and has now been taken by over 500 students who are a living memorial to Dean’s vision. The organisation of a scientific programme of a more advanced type than that current in the medical schools, and divorced from any concomitant clinical work, was not an easy business, but was successfully accomplished with the help of the team of young men Dean assembled around him. This was indeed the crucial step in establishing the modern school of pathology in Cambridge over which he presided for nigh on forty years. Thirteen years later pathology was recognised as a half subject for Part I of the Tripos, so that it may be said that his original purpose was in the main achieved.

All this time Dean and his assistants were working hard at the details of the new department to be built in Tennis Court Road, made possible by the generosity of the Rockefeller Trustees and Mr R. H. Gates. This, as he said, involved him in three years’ hard labour. He had no use for architectural fantasies and wanted i t built as a workshop by “ the sort of chap who builds Lancashire cotton mills ”. This involved a lot of midnight oil for all concerned, not least among them E. G. D. Murray and H. P. Hudson. The laboratory was opened in 1930.

He liked to do the bulk of the lecturing himself, except for certain subjects which he re- garded as fiddling (“ I never can remember this stuff about the large A’s and the little a’s ”), or slightly suspect, and was at his best in what

As a teacher Dean was extremely effective.

592 HENRY ROY DEAN

used to be called General Pathology. As far as his various commitments allowed he taught regularly in the practical class. Pipe in mouth, garbed in his peculiar linen smock, carrying his own stool, he moved amongst the benches. Sitting down between a couple of students, and soon the centre of a little group, he puffed smoke and discussed the matter of the moment. His teaching was essentially personal, “ as one having authority and not as the scribes ”.

As the years passed he became more and more drawn into adminis- trative matters and was much sought after, for he had a capacity for sieving out the essentials in any discussion, and his own views were sensible and forthright. Moreover, he was equable and humorous. He became a governor of his old school, a member of the Royal Com- mission on the University of Durham (1934), Chairman of the Imperial Cancer Research Fund, Vice-chancellor of the University of Cambridge through the difficult years 1937-39, and President of the Pathological and Bacteriological Laboratory Assistants’ Association 1925-28, and he held o%ce in our Society from 1920 to 1954. In 1929 he was elected to the Mastership of Trinity Hall, and the impact of this on Dean and on the College requires a paragraph of its own.

The appointment caused some surprise for Dean was an Oxford man and the first scientist to hold this office in a college with a strong legal tradition. He remained Master for twenty-five years, becoming the senior among Heads of Cambridge Colleges and retiring when he reached 75. Trinity Hall and all its interests were very dear to Dean’s heart, and he served the College well. Reference has been made in the Cambridge Review by C. W. Crawley, to whom I am indebted for many facts, to Dean’s wise judgement in guiding the selection of Fellows in this small society and to his care for their interests ; to his zeal for preserving and improving the College buildings, the College garden and the College cellar; and to his love for and unrivalled knowledge of the College silver and his part in making some notable additions to it. A matter of great value was his initiative in obtaining for Trinity Hall the Wychfield estate of six acres adjoining the College playing fields, today probably worth three or four times the sum paid for it, together with the house now converted into College hostels. After he relinquished the mastership Dean lived in a part of this house until his wife’s death in 1959, and i t is proposed to provide an additional court there to be named “ Dean’s Court ” as a permanent memorial to him.

His services to our Society go back, as I have said, to ‘1920-so long ago as to be easily forgotten. Except for two years, in which he and Boycott doubled the duties of Secretaries and Assistant Editors (the latter not really Dean’s cup 0’ tea), he was one of the two Secretaries until 1954-a record not likely to be broken. To the younger members of the Society I daresay he will be little more than a tall loosely knit and of recent years a slightly gaunt figure, atealing in through the lecture-room doors as the lights went up, and gravely shuffling into a

OBITUARY 593

seat in the front row, with a wave to some and a smile to other familiar faces. Dean took little part in the active discussions, but those who sat with him on the Committee were very aware of his strong influence and clear ideas. Although not an Original Member he joined the Society early and played a great part in its formative period and in the establishment of the tradition that has guided i t for many years. He never appeared as an aggressive or dominating figure seeking admiration or reputation, but rather as a benign influence in the background keeping the ship on a good course. The Society’s meetings were occasions he hardly ever missed, and when I saw him in December 1960, before he set out on his last long journey, he was talking of being at the January meeting. He was also a strong supporter of the Pathological and Bacteriological Laboratory Assistants’ Association, now the Institute of Medical Laboratory Technology, and received its Sims Woodhead medal in 1948.

He was the recipient of honorary degrees from Liverpool, Aberdeen and the Western Reserve Universities, and was elected an Honorary Fellow of New College Oxford, where he had been an undergraduate. He also served for many years on the General Medical Council.

Such are the bare bones of Dean’s career, but no catalogue of achieve- ments or of posts filled can give an adequate idea of the man, and there remains to me the much more difficult task of clothing them with the flesh and blood of his personality. It is more than usually difficult because he was an unusual man. To begin with he was unusually large, both tall and largely built though he never ran to flesh. He was a great swimmer with huge hands that seemed to cleave the water. As a water-polo player he must have intimidated the opposition in his undergraduate days. He rode a bicycle all his life, almost up to the end, and constantly accompanied the College boat to his own peril and that of other spectators. This bicycle was considerably higher than the standard size and he always mounted it in the old-fashioned way from a step on the back hub. With his physical largeness went s mental one. He took a broad view of most things and had an intuitive kindly toleration, but this was no result of mental laziness or a desire to please. He judged shrewdly, gave his trust and expected this to be repaid by good faith, honest endeavour and loyalty; if he were deceived in his judgement he withdrew his trust completely and finally. He had a tendency to regard things and men as black or white and his summaries were often pungent and amusing, and usually right. He had little use for physical, intellectual or moral trappings and was more concerned with the qualities under the caddis case than with the carefully devised exterior. Pretentiousness he loathed, and that type of person he would refer to as “ Sir Ponty Max ”. “ More nice than eminent ”, he might say of someone and prefer the former quality to the latter. As Spooner wrote : “ he disliked humbug, servility, and sentimentality, with the cultivated dislike of the competent latinist that he was. He was an adept a t discomfiting those whom Sinclair

J. PATH. BACT.-VOL. 83 (1962) 2 P

594 HENRY ROY DEAN

Lewis described as ‘ the men of measured merriment ’, by laughing a t them. His own merriment was unmeasured, unpredictable, perpetual and most endearing. It made him both friends and enemies ; he was never ashamed of either.’’ As a chief Dean was ideal. He trusted his staff and gave them the greatest measure of freedom in their work, and he enjoyed a loyalty which remained to the end and, indeed, seemed to grow as the light began to fail. Possessed of a first-class brain and great abilities he did not let these dominate his life, and outside the University and laboratory he was determined to live the sort of life he thought good-with his family, his few simple pleasures, his holidays and the companionship of those he liked. He liked good food, good drink, old silver and good company. I think he would have approved of Belloc’s “ The South Country ”, though I never knew him read poetry. He was very English.

The memory we have of people we have known and loved is a very complex affair, partly compounded of gratitude, partly-but not necessarily in any great degree-of admiration, and largely of a con- fused mass of small intimacies in the day’s work, which we recall with a glow of pleasure. Small things maybe and trivial, but the sum of pleasure is paid in small coin.

We affectionately regard their very eccentricities, the small man- nerisms and ways of talking that stamped the man we knew. Living as he did in an environment where circumstances exaggerate the impact of natures, Dean inevitably developed into a personality, and this development was abetted by his striking appearance. Such a one becomes in time legendary and an aura of anecdotes surrounds him, no doubt improved upon and enlarged with the passage of time, just as Dean used to improve upon his own stories. They all give some inkling of the type of man he was or, better, of his sense of values. I remember a t a Cambridge meeting, standing round the fire inthe Combination Room a t Trinity Hall before dinner, and some junior member of the Society saying : “ Well, Master, I suppose you’ll be retiring soon ”. Dean as it happened had been appointed under the Old Statutes and was not subject to retirement. This he explained, and then added : “ So you see, a t present I’m an Anomaly : before long I shall be an Abuse ; and then I shall look forward to becoming a Scandal ! ’) Years earlier I had heard him directing someone to his home in Manchester : “ You take the tram as far as the White Lion : get off there and turn to the left and pass the Red Lion. If you come to the Golden Lion you’ve overshot it ”. I once wrote to him asking the date of the Cambridge examinations. He replied that it was popularly supposed that this was fixed by an influential committee of dons : “ But they are always held in the week before Henley, which is a fortnight after Ascot ; so you see it is the stewards of the Jockey Club who decide the dates of the Cambridge examinations ”.

How shall I round the ending of a story ! With Dean’s passing we seem to have come to the end of an epoch

J. P.-i'l'ti. L+.ICT.--VOL. e3 PLATE CLXV

OBITUARY 595

in British pathology, which saw its emergence from something between an ancillary in clinical diagnosis and a morphological study of diseased tissues to a science in its own right, with its roots in physiology, biochemistry and bacteriology, and its branches in medicine and surgery. I n this period the large figure of Dean was eminent and he contributed in no small way to this evolution. He was a great man, and the old friend who wrote to me : " I owe it to him that I have had such an interesting life ", is only one of many who could say the same. He was happy in his home life and fortunate in his family. The hospitality in his house is a treasured happy memory, and the personality and charm of his wife was surely one of the major gifts accorded him.

There have been many photographs of Dean and there is a fine portrait of him in Trinity Hall. But there is one I like best of all, taken without his knowing it by R. M. Fry from the laboratory window, showing the back of the " Old Man " as he stands bare-headed, stick and letter case held behind him, contemplating the irises in the labora- tory garden. Maybe they were irises he had himself grown from seed, and he was thinking of them in the coming year. There were no irises for him last summer, but for us

" A shadow passing through the doors at evening To his companion and his resting place ".

J. HENRY DIBLE.

I have unreservedly drawn upon information in the obituary notices in The Times, Lancet and British Medical Journal and the Trinity Hall Newsletter, as well as on the help of R. Williamson, C. W. Crawley, J. Mills, H. P. Hudson and R. J. M. Greaves, all of whom I would wish to thank for their aid.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

1907 Observations on the purpura of children. Brit. Med. J . , 1907, 2 , 815-819.

1908 Observations on the leucocytosis produced by the toxin of the diphtheria

bacillus, with especial reference to the changes which follow the injection of antitoxin. This Journal, 1908, 12, 154-165.

1909 E. ~ D E R H A L D E N and H. R. DEAN. Studien iiber die Bildung der Seide. 2.

physiol. Chem., 1909, 59, 170-173.

1910 Recognition of B. typhosus by complement fixation. Brit. Med. J. , 1910, 2,

1516-1519. 1910-11

Studies in complement h a t i o n with strains of typhoid, paratyphoid, and allied organisms. Proc. Roy. SOC. Med., 1910-11, 4 (Path. Sect.), 251-278.

596 HENRY ROY DEAN

1911-12 On the factors concerned in agglutination. Proc. Roy. SOC. B, 1911-12, 84,

J. C. G. LEDINGHAM and H. R. DEAN. The action of the complement fractions This JournaZ, 1911-12, 16,

416-434.

on the tropins of immune typhoid serum. 386-389.

1912 Idiocy and congenital syphilis. The relation between the fixation of complement and the formation of a precipi-

Brit. J . Child. Dis., 1912, 9, 385-396.

tate. 2. Immun. exp. Ther., 1912, 13, 84-122.

1913-14 A method of preparing a soluble typhoid antigen.

An attempt to preserve hanolytic complement in a permanent form.

This Journal, 1913-14, 18,

This 1 17-1 18.

Journal, 1913-14, 18, 118-119. 1916

H. R. DEAN and T. B. MOUAT. The bacteria of gangrenous wounds. J . Roy. Army Med. Cps, 1916, 26, 189-208 and 349-371.

1916-17 The influence of temperature on the fixation of complement. This Journal,

1916-17, 21, 193-214. 1917

The mechanism of the serum reactions. Lancet, 1917, 1, 45-50. H. R. DEAN, R. S. ADAMSON, J. D. GILES and R. WILLIAMSON. A bacteriological

examination of convalescents from the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force. J . Roy. Army Med. Cps, 1917, 28, 428-460.

A report on twenty-five cases of tetanus. Lancet, 1917, I, 673-680.

1918 Pathology and the medical student. Edinb. Med. J. , 1918, 20, 307-318.

1923 The histology of a case of anaphylactic shock occurring in a man. This Journal,

1922, 25, 305-314. 1923

The value of serological tests in diagnosis. Brit. Med. J. , 1923, 2, 1033-1036.

1924 R. R. DEAN and R. A. WEBB. The morbid anatomy and histology of anaphylaxis

in t,he dog. This Journal, 1924, 27, 51-64.

1926 H. R. DEAN and R. A. WEBB. The influence of optimal proportions of antigen

This Journal, 1926, 29, and antibody in the serum precipitation reaction. 473-492.

Meredit,h Blake Robson Swann (obituary). This Journd, 1926, 29, 532-534.

1927 Complement fixation in mixtures of toxin and antitoxin. This Journal, 1927,

30, 675-685.

OBITUARY 597

1928 H. R. DEAN and R. A. WEBB. The determination of the rate of antibody

(precipitin) in rabbit’s blood by the method of ‘‘ optimal proportions ”. This Journal, 1928, 31, 89-99.

1930 H. R. DEAN, N. E. GOLDRWORTHY and C. TEN BROECK. The rate of disappear-

ance of injected horse serum from the blood of the rabbit. J . Immmol.,

Pathology as a biological science: an address at the dedication of the Institute of Pathology of Western Reserve University (U.S.A.), October 7th, 1929. Western Reserve Bull., No. 11, July lst, 1930.

1930, 18, 95-108.

1931 The precipitation reaction. In M.R.C. System of bacteriology, 1931, London,

VOI. 6, pp. 424-451. 1935

H. R. DEAN, G. L. TAYLOR and MURIEL E. ADAIR. The precipitin reaction. Experiments with an antiserum containing two antibodies. J . Hyg., Camb., 1935, 35, 69-74.

1936 H. R. DEAN, R. WILLIAMSON and 0. L. TAYLOR. Passive anaphylaxis following

the immediate injection of antigen after antiserum. J . Hyg., Camb., 1936, 36, 570-587.

1937 The reaction of isamine blue with serum. This Journal, 1937, 45, 745-771.

1941 Arthur Stanley Griffith (obituary). This Journal, 1941, 53, 311-312.

1944 H. R. DEAN and G. S. WILSON. William Whiteman Carlton Topley (obituary).

This Journal, 1944, 56, 451-464.

1946 George Lees Taylor (obituary). This Journal, 1946, 58, 593-594.

Neil Erneet a5olbeworthp 17th February 1897-26th September 1960

(PLATE CLXVI)

DR N. E. GOLDSWORTHY, Director of the Institute of Dental Research in Sydney, died after a short illness on 26th September 1960 at the age of 63. Dr Goldsworthy graduated M.B., Ch.M. at the University of Sydney in 1921 and spent the next three years as house physician and resident pathologist a t Sydney Hospital. He then proceeded to the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine, where he was awarded the D.T.M.&H. in 1925. The next five years were spent a t

J. PATE. BACT.-VOL. 83: 1862) 2 P 2