Sundays were often spent out of town, at Hawarden and elsewhere, and latterly at Camfield, the house so lately purchased. Both this and his town house were entirely furnished, as he wished each to be complete in itself.
Already at Essendon the example of his life was felt to be a power for good, as well as the kind interest he took in his poorer neighbours, inviting them up to his house, promising to give the men a dinner at Christmas, etc. Yet Sir Andrew was no "country gentleman"; his favourite recreation was books. On being asked: "Which way are we looking? In which direction is London?" he replied: "I don't know." "Don't you know how the house stands, or what soil it is built upon?" and again he had to plead ignorance.
Nevertheless, his love of neatness made him notice if a place was in good order. One day, driving over to see some neighbours, after congratulating them on the well-kept garden, he was getting into the carriage, when he suddenly remembered he had not told the gardener how much pleased he was with the whole place, and with his usual courtesy insisted on going back to find him.
One of Sir Andrew's holidays was a trip to Canada, when he accompanied the Marquis of Lorne and Princess Louise, on the former being appointed Governor-General there. This he did as a friend, and in no way in a medical capacity. He was most popular on the voyage out among the passengers, keeping the ship alive with jokes and amusing stories, and many called him "Merry Andrew." He was almost boyish in his keen enjoyment of a holiday. He was evidently devoted to music, and was delighted with the beautiful string band the Duke of Edinburgh brought on board at Halifax. In Canada, Sir Andrew was most warmly received and universally liked by everyone. Amongst others he made the acquaintance of Sir John Macdonald.
The Princess told me without doubt there was one predominating interest in his mind, and that the supernatural—whether at a British Association meeting, the College of Physicians, or speaking privately to his own friends. He realized the impossibility of explaining by scientific methods the supernatural. He would often say: "There is more in Heaven and earth than this world dreams of. Given the most perfect scientific methods, you will find beyond abysses which you are powerless to explore."
He had the greatest charm of mind, and, needless to say, was a delightful companion. His topics of conversation were extremely varied: he liked dialectics for talk and argument's sake, and enjoyed talking to those who had somewhat the same taste. Possibly for this reason he did not fully appreciate children, although they amused him, and he liked to understand their ideas. A friend of Sir Andrew's staying with him at the time told me the following characteristic anecdote: One afternoon during his autumn holiday in Scotland the footman came in to put coals on the fire, and a child (a relation) coughed vehemently. "Why do you cough so much?" said Sir Andrew. "To make James look at me," said the child. Sir Andrew was "solemnly interested," and afterwards took it as a parable of a woman's nature, which, speaking generally, he considered morally and ethically inferior to a man's. In his opinion very many women were wanting in the two great qualities—justice and truth—considering their own, their children's, or their husband's interests first rather than what was absolutely right.
One subject that interested him very much was heredity, and he had, of course, countless opportunities of studying it. "Temperance and morality," he would say, "are most distinctly transmitted, especially by the mother; but," said Sir Andrew, "in spite of heredity, I am what I am by my own choice."
Sir Andrew was a great reader. Metaphysics, philosophy, and theology were his favourite subjects, especially the latter—he also occasionally read a good novel. Reading was his only relaxation, for it was one he could enjoy while driving or in the train. Dr. Russell, who was with him when going to attend the tercentenary of Dublin College, tells the story how Sir Andrew not only read but wrote hour after hour in the railway carriage, and, in addition, listened to the conversation. Dr. Russell Reynolds, Sir James Paget, Sir Dyce Duckworth, and Sir R. Quain were of the party, and the two latter joined Dr. Russell in remarking with him that it would ruin his eyesight. "I am using my eyes, not abusing them," replied Sir Andrew; "you cannot injure any organ by the exercise of it, but by the excess of exercise of it. I would not do it were I not accustomed to read and write without the smallest amount of mischief."
I much regret that lack of space prevents my describing the London Hospital as I should like. Of most hospitals Sir Andrew was a governor, but his great interest was the London, of which he and Lady Clark were both life governors.
While Sir Andrew was visiting physician he came regularly twice a week, as well as for consultation. He was interested in everything that concerned the patients, and always had a kind word for the nurses. One nurse in the Charlotte Ward (Sir Andrew Clark's) said he used literally to shovel out half-crowns at Christmas when he asked what the patients were going to do. Everyone speaks Of the pecuniary sacrifice and strain his connection with the hospital involved. He endowed a medical tutorship, also scholarships for students. Students, nurses, etc., would eagerly listen to his informal expositions in the wards, as he invariably showed a grasp of the subject that was equally minute and comprehensive. "He would start from some particular point and work his way point by point down to the minutest detail, not bewildering by a multiplicity of facts, but keeping them all in order with perfect handling, until the framing of the whole thing stood out luminously clear to the dullest comprehension. An old pupil says his well-known authoritative manner was the result of a profound and laboriously acquired knowledge of his art, acquired by years of careful work in hospital wards and post-mortem rooms."—Medical Journal.