There is a charming life by Henry Morley, of Cardan, the great Italian physician and algebraist, which gives us in accurate detail the daily routine of a doctor's days in the sixteenth century. In it is an account of Cardan's professional visit in 1551 to John Hamilton, archbishop of St. Andrew's, Scotland, and practically the ruler of that turbulent realm. Cardan's scientific opinion as to his patient is queer enough, but, as Morley remarks, it is probably not more amusing to us than will be our opinion in a like case to the smiling brother of our guild who may chance to read it at some remote future day. The physician of whom I now write was one who already dreaded bleeding, thought less of medicines than his fellows, and was, in fact, exceptionally acute. He did some droll things for the sick prelate, and had reasons yet more droll for what he did, but his practice was, as may happen on the whole, wiser than his reasons for its use. His patient was a man once bulky, but now thin, overworked, worried, subject to asthma, troubled with a bad stomach, prone to eat largely of coarse food, but indisposed to physical exercise. Cardan advised that the full, heated head, of which his patient much complained, should be washed night and morning with hot water in a warm room, and then subjected to a cold shower-bath. Next was to come a thorough dry rubbing, and rest for two hours. As to his asthma, he forbade him to subject himself to night air or rainy weather. He must sleep on silk, not feathers, and use a dry pillow of chopped straw or sea-weed, but by no means of feathers. He forbade suppers if too late, and asked the reverend lord to sleep ten hours, and even to take time from study or business and give it to bed. He was to avoid purgatives, to breakfast lightly, and to drink slowly at intervals four pints a day of new asses' milk. As to other matters, he was to walk some time in the shade at an early hour, and, discussing the time for the fullest meal, Cardan remarks that established habits as to this point are not to be lightly considered. His directions as to diet are many, reasonable, and careful. His patient, once stout, had become perilously thin. Turtle-soup and snail-broth would help him. Cardan insisted also on the sternest rules as to hours of work, need for complete rest, daily exercise, and was lucky enough to restore his patient to health and vigor. The great churchman was grateful, and seems to have well understood the unusual mental qualities of his physician. Nothing on the whole could be better than the advice Cardan gave, and the story is well worth reading as an illustration of the way in which a man of genius rises above the level of the routine of his day.