Even with surgeons who were very unobjectionable, Abernethy in his best manner contrasted very favourably. We recollect being very much struck with this when, very young, we had to meet Mr. Cline and Mr. Abernethy, within a few days of each other, in the same case. Mr. Cline was very kind to the patient, elaborately civil; nor was there anything which could be fairly regarded as objectionable; but his manner was too artificial; the contrast in Abernethy was very agreeable. The case was serious, and (as we thought) hopeless. Abernethy, the moment he saw it, had his sympathies painfully awakened. Having asked a few questions, he, in the very kindest manner, said, "Well, I will tell you what I would do, were I in your situation." He then proceeded to direct how she should regulate her living, how avoid mischievous experiments, and went into a rather lengthy series of directions, in the most unaffected manner, without leaving the room, or having any private consultation whatever. The lady, who was a distinguished person, and a very accomplished woman, was exceedingly pleased with him. His manner, as we shall by and by admit, was occasionally rough, and sometimes rather prematurely truthful. One day, he was called, in consultation, by a physician, to give an opinion on a case of a pulsating tumour, which was pretty clearly an aneurism. On proceeding to examine the tumour, he found a plaister on it. "What is this?" said Abernethy. "Oh! that is a plaister?" "Pooh!" said Abernethy, taking it off and throwing it aside. "That was all very well," said the physician; "but that 'pooh' took several guineas out of my pocket."