BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR 
OF THE LATE 
WILLIAM PEPPER, M.D. 
BY 
THOMAS S. KIRKBRIDE, M. D. 
PREPARED BY REQUEST OF THE COLLEGE OF PHYSICIANS OF PHILADELPHIA. 
PHILADELPHIA: 
COLLINS, PRINTER, 7 05 JAYNE STREET. 
1 866. BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR 
OF THE LATE 
AY I L L I A M T E P T E R, M. 1). 
William Pepper, M. P., was horn in the city of Philadelphia, Pa., on 
the 21st day of January, 1810. At the early age of nine years he was 
sent to boarding-school at Ilolmesburg, near his native city, where he 
remained till he entered the academic department of Princeton College. 
He continued in this college an earnest and devoted student till the 8th 
of October, 1828, when he graduated with the highest honor. While at 
Princeton he was an active member of the Whig Society, and manifested 
many of the traits of character for which he was afterwards distinguished. 
Soon after leaving college he became the private pupil of the late 
Thomas T. Ilewson, M. I)., a distinguished physician of Philadelphia, 
and for a long time one of the surgeons of the Pennsylvania Hospital, 
under whose able supervision he prosecuted the study of medicine with 
great industry und zeal. He entered the medical department of the 
University of Pennsylvania in the autumn of 1829, and graduated March 
29th, 1832, having passed a most satisfactory examination. Ilis inaugural 
thesis was on apoplexy. 
The Asiatic cholera made its first appearance in Philadelphia in the 
summer of 1832, and this led to the establishment of temporary hospitals 
in various [tarts of the city. Dr. Pepper was one of the first to offer his 
professional services on this occasion, and spent most of the summer in 
the hospital at Bush Hill, where he rendered valuable service in the 
arduous duties appertaining to his position. In October of the same 
year he sailed for Europe. Soon after his arrival in Paris he entered 
with great earnestness on the prosecution of his studies in the hospitals 
of that metropolis of medical science. He remained in Paris thus en- 
gaged for nearly two years, devoting himself with remarkable industry to 
the investigation of disease, and, under the guidance of the ablest men in 
the profession, especially of Louis and Dupuytren, his progress was of 
the most gratifying description. It was during his visit to Paris that he 
had some pulmonary symptoms, brought on by the peculiar winter climate 4 
of that city, and which for a time gave himself and his friends much un- 
easiness. The precise character of this indisposition has not been gene- 
rally understood, but one of his intimate friends, now a distinguished sur- 
geon of this city, who was with him, informs me that it was probably pleu- 
ritic in its character. Under the advice of Louis he left Paris, and spent 
the greater part of one winter in Italy and Southern Europe, and on his 
return, after this period of relaxation, his health seemed to be entirely 
re-established. 
On his return from Europe, in the latter part of the year 1834, he took 
charge of one of the districts under the care of the Philadelphia Dispen- 
sary, a position which he held for three years. It was during this period 
that the writer first became intimately acquainted with the subject of this 
notice, although they had been fellow-students aud fellow-graduates at 
the University. Occupying at that time the position of Resident Physi- 
cian at the Pennsylvania Hospital, it was an arrangement mutually 
pleasant and profitable by which Dr. Pepper became my frequent com- 
panion in my visits through the wards of that excellent and time-honored 
institution. Fresh from the hospitals of Paris, familiar with most that 
was to be seen in that wide field for the investigation of morbid pheno- 
mena, he entered with the greatest zeal upon a most thorough analysis of 
disease as presented in our own city, and a careful comparison of his 
observations abroad with those made in our own institutions. 
At that early day in his professional life, in this period of our united 
studies, I formed an estimate of Dr. Pepper’s character, a conviction of 
his rare ability in diagnosis and his more than ordinary good sense in the 
application of remedies, which our long subsequent intimacy fully con- 
firmed. So decided were my views on all these points, that although on 
terms of intimacy with the highest talent in the profession, Dr. Pepper 
became my own medical adviser, and continued in that relation to render 
on many occasions most important services to me and my family up to 
the period of his death. Without some such intimacy, Dr. Pepper’s 
character and great ability could hardly be appreciated by any one. This 
opinion of Dr. Pepper’s professional attainments was shared by many 
others who were interested in the hospital, and to this cause and the ac- 
quaintances he then made may be attributed his subsequent connection 
with that institution. 
The manner in which Dr. Pepper performed the duties of physician to 
the Philadelphia Dispensary was an example for any one commencing the 
practice of his profession. No matter what was the social condition of 
his patients, or the adverse circumstances surrounding them, they never 
failed to receive the most careful attention. The character of every case 
wTas examined with the utmost care, and the treatment conducted with a 
degree of interest that no one could doubt. It may well be questioned 
whether of all his subsequent patients, even when he had attained his 5 
highest professional position, any received more careful attention than did 
those who had the good fortune to come under his care through the 
Philadelphia Dispensary. The amount of labor which he performed at 
this time was very great, and from the exposure at all seasons and in every 
kind of weather, he contracted a pleurisy of so severe a character as to 
give his friends much uneasiness, and from the effects of which he was 
confined to his room for several months. 
As early as 1832 Dr. Pepper became a member of the Philadelphia 
Medical Society. In February, 1837, he was elected a member of the 
Philadelphia Academy of Natural Sciences, in the objects of which he 
always took great interest, and in 1839 he became a Fellow of the College 
of Physicians. In the same year he was chosen one of the physicians to 
the Wills’ Hospital, a position which he held for about two years. In 
1«41 he was elected one of the physicians to the Pennsylvania Institution 
for the Instruction of the Blind, and continued for a considerable time to 
devote himself with his usual earnestness to the care of the inmates of 
that interesting charity. 
On the 9th of May, 1842, under circumstances highly flattering to him, 
he was elected one of the Visiting Physicians to the Pennsylvania Hos- 
pital, a post which he continued to occupy, with great advantage to the 
institution and honor to himself, till the 29th of December, 1858, when, 
owing to the pressure of other engagements and his stute of health, he 
felt compelled to resign. 
In April, 1851, Dr. Pepper became a member of the American Philo- 
sophical Society, and, on the resignation of the eminently distinguished 
Professor Wood, he was elected, on the 5th of June, 1860, Professor of 
the Theory and Practice of Medicine in the University of Pennsylvania. 
He occupied this chair and performed its duties with rare ability till the 
spring of 1866, when, having completed his fourth course of lectures, he 
was led, from increased feebleness of health, to tender his resignation. 
In June, 1840, Dr. Pepper was married to Miss Sarah Platt, of Phila- 
delphia, who, with their seven children, two of whom are members of the 
medical profession, survived him. He was peculiarly happy in his domes- 
tic relations, and no one could appreciate more highly than he did the 
blessings of such a home, after the exacting daily trials of a most success- 
ful professional life. 
As already stated, Dr. Pepper was attached to the Pennsylvania Hos- 
pital as one of its attending physicians for a period of nearly seventeen 
years. The same conscientious performance of duty which characterized 
him in all his other relations was conspicuous in this. Although at times 
in greatly enfeebled health, he did not permit this to interfere with his 
daily visits to the wards, and during his entire term of service there, he 
never once failed to be at his post. This position, while it furnished a 
large field for medical observation and experience, brought him promi- 6 
nently before the profession as a teacher of clinical medicine. As sneh, 
his lectures were remarkable for the searching manner in which he inves- 
tigated his cases, the importance he attached to the observation of every 
symptom however seemingly trivial, the accuracy of his diagnosis, and 
the simplicity and success of his practice. These lectures were attended 
by large classes of students, and gave him a reputation as a clinical in- 
structor second to none on this continent. 
The qualifications of a successful clinical and a didactic lecturer are 
not always to be found in the same individual, and some of his friends 
were not without misgivings when Dr. Pepper accepted the chair of the 
Theory and Practice of Medicine in the University of Pennsylvania. 
These apprehensions were soon shown to be unfounded, and the per- 
formance of his new duties only added to his already distinguished 
reputation. 
As a didactic lecturer, he was clear, concise, and yet complete. Thirty 
years of active practice had made him familiar with disease in its varied 
forms, and had led him to reject, as useless, that which was merely specu- 
lative in medicine, while it enabled him to speak “ with authority” of all 
that was valuable in our science. Thoroughly familiar with medical litera- 
ture, he had also studied disease in the great book of nature, at the bed- 
side in private practice and in the wards of the hospitals. Thus, to him, 
nearly every disease treated of presented itself in the form of individual 
cases which had come under his notice or had been under his im- 
mediate care. From this great treasury of knowledge he continually 
drew in illustration of the subject matter of his lecture. Catching at the 
typical features of the disease, its pathological history and phenomena, 
its diagnosis, general and differential, were given with such clearness and 
force, that the student saw before him, as at the bed-side, all that was 
distinctive and important in the case, while the principles of treatment 
and its results followed with almost mathematical accuracy and precision. 
As has been intimated, Dr. Pepper made no effort at oratorical display. 
The main object of his teaching was apparent—to give a thoroughly 
practical course—one, which, as far as was possible, would prepare his 
pupils for the intelligent treatment of disease. His enunciation was dis- 
tinct, and his delivery rather a rapid than a slow one. No one could 
visit his lecture-room without noticing the marked attention of the class, 
nor be associated with the students without perceiving with what affection- 
ate respect they regarded their preceptor. 
Dr. Pepper occupied the chair of Practice, as has already been said, 
for a period of four years. Even when about to enter on its duties his 
health was feeble, and it was feared by many that it would not prove equal 
to the increased tax thus imposed on it. That by increasing his engage- 
ments already too numerous, and especially by compelling him to begin 
his visits at an earlier hour of the day, or to protract them to a later one, 7 
it may have tended to break him down, may perhaps be admitted, but, by 
himself, the professorship was never regarded as a burden. He has fre- 
quently been known to remark that to lecture was a relaxation to him, 
and that he looked upon the hour thus occupied as the most pleasant of 
his daily duties. 
It is a remarkable fact, and in keeping with what has already been 
noticed, that during the whole four years of his professorship, a period 
the most exciting and important in our national history, notwithstanding 
the cares of a very large practice, and the infirmities of declining health, 
I>r. Pepper was never absent from a lecture, and never failed to meet his 
class punctually at the time appointed for its delivery. 
Towards the close of the winter of 1863 Dr. Pepper’s voice began to 
fail, and his increasingly impnired health became evident to himself and 
his friends. He was, indeed, one of the first to notice the change in his 
voice, and soon after determined to retire from the University. “I have 
a horror,” said he to a friend, 11 of holding any place the duties of which 
I cannot properly perform—of being a drag to the College.” Although 
assured that no one but himself could possibly regard him as such, he 
adhered to his resolution, and soon after tendered to the trustees his resig- 
nation of the chair he had so ably filled, and which was only accepted in 
the hope that a life so valuable to the profession and the community 
might thus be prolonged. 
A month or two later he removed to his beautiful residence at Chestnut 
Hill, where it was fondly hoped in the pure air and complete rest of the 
country, and with the watchful care of his devoted family, he might find 
that health which had been denied him in the city. 
In addition to the slight cough with which he had been affected for 
some years, Dr. Pepper at this time suffered greatly from attacks of 
dyspnoea, brought on by the slightest exertion, and occurring with great 
violence at night. At best but a poor sleeper, these nightly attacks of 
oppression distressed him greatly and very much increased his debility. 
Put as the summer advanced, they became less and less frequent, and his 
health so much improved that in October he determined to return to the 
city, and though not intending to engage in the active duties of the pro- 
fession, he yet looked forward to an office and consultation practice. Such, 
however, was not to be the case. An attack of acute bronchitis brought 
on by exposure during a carriage drive, suddenly increased his oppression, 
and afterwards became complicated by the occurrence of haemoptysis. 
Under the skilful care of his sons, both highly intelligent medical men, 
this was somewhat relieved, but on Saturday the 15th of October he was 
again attacked with hemorrhage, at this time of an alarming character. 
A few hours later he expressed to an intimate personal and professional 
friend, whom he had sent for, and who had been much with him during 
his illness, his conviction that his disease must soon prove fatal. With 8 
that wonderful accuracy of diagnosis which had always characterized 
him, he next directed attention to the state of his lungs, describing in 
detail the pathological conditions which he believed existed there, and 
which subsequent investigation proved to be correct in the minutest 
particular—the more remarkable, as no previous physical examination 
of his chest had been made, for although it had been suggested, he 
always seemed disinclined to have it done, and, as the event proved, his 
own sensations had been quite sufficient to reveal to him the real char- 
acter of the ill-health from which he had been suffering. For this last 
attack the usual remedies were resorted to, and he became quietjand com- 
paratively comfortable. In the afternoon another attack of hemorrhage 
occurred, after which he sank back exhausted, and remained in this state 
for about an hour, his breathing becoming less and less frequent, until he 
quietly passed away from earth, so quietly and so peacefully that his son, 
in whose arms he reclined, could not tell at what moment he ceased to 
live. < 
Thus at the early age of 55, Dr. Pepper died, just in the maturity of 
his mental powers and of his capacity for usefulness, at the very period 
when the arduous labors of a lifetime would have shown their best results, 
when the richest fruits of long study and ripe experience were about to 
be gathered, giving still higher honor to him, and greater benefits to the 
community. It was with him, as it has been and will be again, with so 
many others that we have to mourn, that the pale messenger makes his 
call and takes from among men those that can be most illy spared, and at 
the very time when their value is best understood and their loss most sure 
to be sincerely deplored. 
lie was interred in one of the most beautiful of all the charming spots 
to be found in the Laurel Ilill Cemetery. Far above the waters of the 
Schuylkill, the views, up and down that romantic river, are of surpassing 
beauty. The ground all around his final resting place was familiar to 
him when enjoying the sports of boyhood, and not less in the happiest 
days of early manhood, having been for a long time the elegant and uni- 
versally admired country seat of his family. His remains were followed to 
the grave by his late colleagues of the University, many of his profes- 
sional brethren, and not a few of his grateful patients and admiring 
fellow-citizens who felt it a privilege to pay this last mark of respect to 
one who had so nobly and so usefully filled his place in life. 
Over the massive block of enduring granite which covers what was 
mortal of Dr. Pepper, rises the symbol of the faith in which he lived and 
died. A Christian, in practice as well as profession, he always preferred 
the works which illustrate such a faith, to the strongest declarations of 
"belief, and he had little respect for the highest claims of religious expe- 
rience where the visible fruits were wanting. 
"Wherever Dr. Pepper held public positions, so faithful was he in the 9 
performance of duty that his resignations were always received with sin- 
cere expressions of regret. The resolutions of respect and sympathy so 
generally adopted, at the time of his death, by the various societies and 
bodies with which he was connected, were only other evidences of how 
generally those who knew him most intimately had learned to appreciate 
his rare professional ability and his many noble traits of character. 
Dr. Pepper had a delicate frame and was of a nervous temperament, 
lie was about five feet seven inches high, and his weight rarely exceeded 
one hundred and thirty pounds. lie was quick and active in his move- 
ments, had great industry, and applied himself with earnestness to what- 
ever he undertook. During his life he had several attacks of illness, which, 
for the time, gave himself and his friends great uneasiness, but from which 
he always seemed to recover perfectly. Occasionally, when not well, he 
suffered very much from sleeplessness—for, even at ordinary times, as 
already remurked, he was a poor sleeper, and frequently spoke of this 
difficulty as one of the most trying of his constitutional peculiarities. At 
one time, probably owing to gastric derangement, he was for a long period 
very much annoyed by double vision, and to such an extent that walking 
in the streets was exceedingly troublesome, on account of the confused 
appearance of objects thus induced. No trifling indisposition, however, 
could keej) him from the performance of his professional duties. It was 
only when he was suffering from severe illness that he was missed from 
the regular scenes of labor, lie felt it a duty to practice his profession 
as long as he was able. If his great experience had enabled him to be of 
use to his afflicted fellow beings, he felt that he had no right to cease to 
do all he could, with justice to himself and his family, for their relief. 
It was this feeling, joined to the conviction that he would be much hap- 
pier by such a course, that led him to decide—instead of abandoning his 
profession altogether, as his means would fully have justified him in 
doing—to render what professional service he could to his patients, had 
his health permitted him to return to the city. 
Dr. Pepper hud a remarkable faculty in inspiring the confidence of his 
patients. Exceedingly careful in his preliminary examinations, when he 
uid express an opinion, it seemed very generally to curry absolute convic- 
tion of its soundness to those to whom it was addressed. The general 
accuracy of his diagnosis, the extreme rarity, certainly, of grave errors of 
this description fully justified this confidence. In the later years of his 
life his consultation practice was exceedingly large, and his professional 
brethren, who so often sought the benefit of his great skill, I am sure will 
bear me out in saying that his ability in the investigation of obscure dis- 
ease was of no ordinary kind, and the subsequent complete verification of 
his opinions in such doubtful cases very often excited surprise, as it could 
not fail to inspire increased confidence. Gentle and rather retiring in his 
manners, Dr. Pepper was not profuse in his use of words in his intercourse 10 
with his patients, but he rarely failed to insure a conviction of his interest 
and sympathy, and to secure their faith in his prescriptions, as well as their 
lasting personal regard. Although an exceedingly pleasant and genial 
companion among his friends, he was very domestic in his habits, and 
always looked upon his own home as the great and unfailing treasury of 
happiness. 
Dr. Pepper was a laborious student in whatever he undertook to inves- 
tigate, and his familiarity with medical literature was accurate and ex- 
tensive, but he was so indisposed to make a display of his acquisitions, 
that his learning was much more varied and profound than ordinary ac- 
quaintances might have supposed. Ilis writings were not voluminous. 
He always thought that the great object in medical writing should be to 
add to the accumulated knowledge of the profession, and from the time that 
he felt qualified to do his share in this great work, he was so fully occupied 
with his daily and steadily increasing professional duties, that it would 
have been difficult for him to have prepared any very extended original 
work, even had he felt so disposed. He was, however, a frequent con- 
tributor to the medical journals, and as might have been anticipated, these 
articles were distinguished by brevity, clearness of expression, and an 
eminently practical character. Among these, will be found Clinical 
Reports of Cases noted in the Pennsylvania Hospital, in the American 
Journal of the Medical Sciences, vol. vi. October, 1843; on Chronic 
Hydrocephalus, in the American Journal of Medical Sciences, vol. xx. 
Oct. 1850 ; on Scrofulous Inflammation of the Lungs and Pulmonary 
Condensation, American Journal of Medical Sciences, vol. xxxii. 1852; 
on Hepatic Abscess, American Journal of Medical Sciences, vol. xxi. ; on 
Tubercle of the Brain, with Remarks, Medical Examiner, vol. xii. new 
series; on the Treatment of Intermittent Fever by Quinoidine, Medical 
Examiner, vol. x. new series ; Poisonous Effects produced by Pork, Medi- 
cal Examiner, vol. i. first series ; Coup de Soleil, and Pseudo-membranous 
Croup, in the Transactions of the College of Physicians, vol. iii. 1850 ; Be- 
beerin and Cinchonia in Intermittent Fever, in the American Journal of the 
Medical Sciences, vol. xxiv. 18G2 ; on the Use of the Spirometer in Diseases 
of the Lungs, in American Journal of Medical Sciences, vol. xxv. 1862 ; 
a Grain of Coffee in the Air-passages Fatal after being retained three years 
and a half, American Journal of Medical Sciences, vol. xx. Oct. 1850 ; Cases 
of Diseased Gall-bladder, American Journal of the Medical Sciences, vol. 
xxxiii. Jan. 1857, besides which he published several other cases in 
the Proceedings of the Pathological Society, and also reviews of dilferent 
publications in the American Journal of the Medical Sciences. 
It is difficult for one who, during more than thirty years, had the 
privilege of intimate personal friendship and the advantages of the most 
confidential professional intercourse, to attempt to do justice to the 
private virtues and public character of a man like Dr. Pepper, without 11 
feeling how much must he omitted in a memoir like this, that would tend 
to illustrate still more strongly the goodness and purity of his life, and 
the reality of the sense of irreparable loss felt by many who have been ac- 
customed to lean on him as a trusted counsellor and friend in the saddest 
periods of sickness and sorrow. And yet without knowing all the grounds 
for feelings like these, no one can thoroughly appreciate all his excellent 
traits of character, as a Christian man, a good citizen, an able physician, 
a devoted husband and father, a true friend—nor understand what tended 
to raise him highest in the estimation of those who knew him best, as one 
of the justly honored and deservedly successful in the ranks of our noble 
profession, and who, in passing from amongst us, has left a void which 
to many can never be filled, feelings of sorrow that can find no fitting ex- 
pression, and that sense of private grief, that, with all its sacredness, ever 
shrinks from public exposure.