recognisable. How he maintained this equipage, for we are told
what "makes a mare to go," it was hard to conceive, for the generous
man would positively refuse to take fees from his more intimate
friends, at least of the literary class. With me, a very old friend
and patient, there was a perpetual battle. He set his face against the
two guinea fee, but humorously held out for his strict guinea, and
would not bate the shilling. I have known him when a client presented
two sovereigns empty his pockets of silver and scrupulously return
nineteen shillings. And what an adviser he was! What confidence he
imparted! The moment he bade you sit down and "tell him all about it"
you felt secure.

It was always delightful to meet him. He had his moments of gloom,
like most of his countrymen, for he never lost his native "hall mark,"
and retained to the last that sort of wheedling tone which is common
in the South of Ireland. Yet he had none of that good-natured
insincerity, to which a particular class of Irish are given. He was
thoroughly sincere and genuine, and ready to support his words by
deeds. His humour was racy. As when the Prince of Wales was
sympathising with him on a false report of his death, adding, good
naturedly, "I really was afraid, Dr. Quain, that we had lost you, and
was thinking of sending a wreath." "Well, Sir," said the medico,
"recollect that you are now _committed to the wreath_." I did not
note, however, that when the event at last took place the wreath was
sent. I always fancied that he was a disappointed man, and that he
felt that his high position had not been suitably recognised; or at
least that the recognition had been delayed. The baronetcy came late.
But what he had set his heart upon, and claimed as his due, was the
Presidency of the College of Physicians. This he was always near
attaining, but men like Sir Andrew Clarke were preferred to him. I was
a special friend for many years, and have had many a favoured "lift"
in his carriage when we were going the same way. I was glad to be
allowed to dedicate to him some volumes of personal memoirs. The last
time I met this genial and amiable man was at the table of a
well-known law lord, whom he astonished considerably by addressing me
across the table all through dinner by my christian name. He was at
the time seriously ill, in his last illness in fact, when, as he said,
he had been "tartured to death by their operations." He had good
taste in art, was