The last trip to the Continent, indeed his last real holiday, was taken in 1868, when he ran over to Rome. So public was the life he led, such matters of interest to his fellow-countrymen were his comings and goings, that the _Scotsman_ newspaper chronicled his doings, relating the sights and places of interest which he visited, and noting that his professional services were taken advantage of by many Roman citizens during the few days that he was there; and that if time had permitted a public reception would have been given to him. In all his foreign trips his object was to learn, not to teach; he followed Sir Isaac Newton's advice to Ashton, and let his discourse be more in queries than in assertions or disputings. He took care neither to seem much wiser nor much more ignorant than his company. Sometimes feeling the need of rest himself he would take one or perhaps three days for a rapid run to the Lakes, or would spend another in the country unearthing some antiquarian object. It was always a pleasure to him to visit Bathgate, where his uncle and friend Alexander had latterly resigned the baker's business and taken up the _role_ of banker. One of his favourite resorts was a small house called Viewbank which he had taken, situated on the shores of the Firth of Forth. Here he was close to the fishing village of Newhaven; the fisher folks--the men and the picturesquely attired "fish-wives"--a sturdy and original set of people, were a great interest to him. They knew him well both as an occasional visitor and as the good physician. One of his letters written in 1856 gives an indication of the wide area over which his services were requisitioned and rendered. "_Sunday._ "I write this at Viewbank, which is very pretty this afternoon, but where I have not been for a week or more. This year I have not yet had one single holiday, and scarcely expect one now. I have had many long runs during the past few months. I have been often up in England, professionally, during the summer; once as far as Brighton seeing a consumptive case; once at Scarboro' where my wife went with me; once or twice in London where I saw the Queen; once at Ambleside. I long and weary for a _real_ jaunt without a sick patient lying at the end of it. And I had a great fancy to run from Manchester to Douglas and send all the patients far enough; I have been too hard worked to write, but I _must_ write one or two papers now. Queen Street has been a little hotel during the summer--always some sick lady or another sleeping in it, sometimes several at night."