SOLANDER (Dr Daniel-Charles), was a native of Sweden, and educated at the university of Upsal, where he obtained the degree of Doctor of Medicine. That of Doctor of Laws was afterwards conferred upon him by the university of Oxford. Dr Solander's strong propensity for the pursuit of natural knowledge was probably
probably not a little increased by the patronage and encouragement of his preceptor the celebrated Sir Charles Linnaeus; while the zeal which he showed for these branches of literature, particularly for botany, conciliated the esteem and affection of that eminent professor. When Dr Solander went from Upsal to London in the prosecution of his studies, Linnaeus furnished him with introductory letters to those learned men who were his principal correspondents in the metropolis of Britain. In these letters, among other strong expressions of regard, he is said to have employed the following sentence: Omnium discipulorum, quos unquam habui, dilectissimus. The footing thus obtained, Dr Solander soon improved by agreeable manners and extensive knowledge. In no long time he contracted intimacies with the most eminent philosophers in London, particularly with Sir Joseph Banks, the president of the Royal Society and one of the first literary characters in Europe. He was the companion of Sir Joseph in those different voyages which he made for the sole purpose of extending natural knowledge, and which will do immortal honour to the memory of both. When he was not thus engaged, his time was principally spent in the British Museum, where he had obtained an appointment in every respect suited to his philosophical disposition: and in discharging that part of the duties of his office which led him to show that most valuable collection to different visitors, it was hardly possible to conceive a more agreeable union of the manners of the gentleman with the knowledge of the philosopher. While he was engaged in conversation with his usual cheerfulness at the house of his friend Sir Joseph Banks, he was suddenly attacked with a fit of apoplexy, which in a few days, notwithstanding the best medical assistance, terminated in his death; an event sincerely regretted by all who had the honour of his acquaintance, and by which the literature and philosophy of London sustained a real loss.