PROCEEDINGS OF THE OHIO ACADEMY OF SCIENCE. 197 



It is Still regarded as a classic authority in all parts of the 

 world. 



Largely on account of the reputation which it gave him, he 

 was invited in 1877 to fill the important chair of chemistry and 

 toxicology in the medical department of the University of Penn- 

 sylvania where he remained until his death in 1897. 



Dr. Wormley was reserved in manner and not given to 

 unnecessary speech, though among his intimate friends he was 

 charming in social intercourse and ready in the expression of 

 his views. In lecturing to classes of medical students, whose 

 average intelligence, fifty years ago could hardly be considered 

 as extraordinary, he found less pleasure than in doing research 

 work in his small laboratory but his duties as instructor were 

 discharged with the utmost fidelity. To those of his students 

 who were "fit," in both precept and ex;ample he was most in- 

 spiring. By nature and doubtless largely on account of habits 

 formed during years of exacting scientific research, (his published 

 papers were marvels of painstaking accuracy), he was won- 

 derfully methodical and precise in his mode of life. He would 

 never fail to enter the lecture room at the precise hour, neither 

 a minute too soon nor a minute too late, and he was equally 

 prompt at the other end of the hour allotted to his work. I 

 remember a lesson he taught me in the early days of my ac- 

 quaintance with him. In a bit of work that I had undertaken I 

 needed a particular piece of apparatus that on account of my 

 small equipment of tools I could not build and which limited 

 resources forbade my buying. While listening to Dr. Wormley's 

 lectures I had discovered in one of his instrument cases a thing 

 that could be made to answer my purpose. Knowing that he 

 would have no immediate use for it, I summoned courage to 

 ask him to lend it to me for a few weeks. When I made my 

 request he rose from his chair, walked to the case in which the 

 instrument was, and without the slightest hesitation handed it 

 to me. Then picking up a slip of paper he wrote my name 

 and that of the instrument on it and put it in the vacant place 

 on the shelf. For an instant there came over me a flash of 

 resentment; it was as though he had asked me for a written 



