he had not slept all night,
for he went to see a patient three days before, and because he had not
sent the table of directions, the patient wrote saying he would not try
his treatment. "I never slept," said Sir Andrew, "thinking of the state
of mind to which I had unavoidably reduced that poor patient."

In order to get through his work he had a light breakfast at 7.30, when
he read his letters, which were opened for him. From eight until two or
three he saw patients, his simple luncheon being taken in the
consulting-room. He would then go to the hospital, College of
Physicians, or some consultation; he had often after that to go to see
someone at a distance, but he never worried a patient by seeming in a
hurry, however much pressed for time.

He had a very strong sense of responsibility, and would never rest
himself by staying the night if it were unnecessary. A rich patient in
Devonshire once offered him a large sum to stay until the next morning.
"I could do you no good," said Sir Andrew, "and my patients will want me
to-morrow." Among his patients were almost all the great authors,
philosophers, and intellectual men of the day. Longfellow, Tennyson,
Huxley, Cardinal Manning, and numerous others were his warm friends. He
always declared he caught many a cold in the ascetic Cardinal's "cold
house." An old pupil truly says Sir Andrew had the rare faculty of
surveying the conditions and circumstances of each one, gathering them
up, and clearly seeing what was best to do. Professor Sheridan Delapine
says: "He was specially fond of quoting Sydenham's words: 'Tota ars
medici est in observationibus.'"

After asking what was amiss and questioning them on what they told him,
he would say: "Give me a plan of your day. What is your work? When do
you take your meals? Of what do they consist? What time do you get up,
and when do you go to bed?" Notwithstanding the keenness of his eye and
natural intuition, which found out instantly far more than was told, he
not only eagerly and attentively listened, but _remembered_ what his
patient said. Sir Henry Roscoe gave me a striking instance of this, and
I cannot do better than quote his exact words:--

"I first made Sir Andrew's acquaintance about twenty years ago at
Braemar, where he was spending the autumn, and, as was his kindly wont,
had with him a young Manchester man, far gone in consumption, to whom he
acted as friend, counsellor, and physician. In our frequent walks and
tal