MEDICINE AS A CAREER FOR EDUCATED MEN. The Commencement Address, Lafayette College, June 13, 1893, and the Phi Beta Kappa Oration, Brown University, June 20, 1893. W. W. KEEN, M.D, LL.D, PROFESSOR OF THE PRINCIPLES OF SURGERY AND OF CLINICAL SURGERY, JEFFERSON MEDICAL COLLEGE, PHILADELPHIA. [.Reprinted from The College and Clinical Record, November, iSqgi] Commencement always carries me back to the classic shades where I spent the four most blissful and fruitful years of my life, to which I have ever reverted as the halcyon days of youth. As for me thirty-four years ago, so now for you, the joys, the trials, the studies, the achievements of your college life are or soon will be over. The world stands open before you. “ What shall I do?” is the ques- tion of questions to you. The decision of this question may make or mar you. If you de- cide rightly, you will achieve success, honor, happiness, and the final consolation of a life well and nobly spent. If wrongly, your decision may wreck, even hopelessly, a young life full of brilliant promise. You and your fellows in the many colleges of the land who will graduate in this leafy June have on your side youth with all its potencies. You have a just and laudable ambition. You are ready to work your finger-nails off. You have trained intellects. You are members of the true aris- tocracy of learning; men of marshaled forces, the hope of the nation, the future natural leaders of thought in public and in private life. What shall you do ? “ Surely,” says Carlyle, in his biography of John Stirling, “ the young, heroic soul, entering on life so opulent, full of sunny hope, of noble valor, and divine intention, is tragical as well as beautiful to us.” some will devote their lives to the highest human function and service to their fellow- men—winning them to Christ-like lives and heavenly aspirations ; some will seek the noble profession of the law, and will become leaders of the bar and wear the ermine on the bench; not a few, I hope, will devote your- selves to a scientific career, with, it is true, its ceaseless toil, but also its fascinating investiga- tions, its splendid discoveries, its beneficent inventions. It is my desire to lay before you some of the rewards, the possibilities, the attractions of such a scientific life, and to win you to its pursuit, since it has attractions, wonderful attractions, from many sides and for every type of man—excepting always the lazy. I have selected as my topic, therefore, “ Medi- cine as a Career for Educated Men.” I am met at the outset by the query, “ Are there not already too many doctors?” Yes ; far too many poor doctors, but far too few good ones. . Webster’s oft-quoted remark, that “ there is plenty of room at the top,” is as true of medicine as of any other profession. In any profession there is always a reserved seat in the front row for a Faraday, a Schlie- mann, a John Hunter, a Lister, a Virchow, a Pasteur, a Gross, a Packard, a March. And although no one of you may become the peer of those I have named—and yet, why should you not ?—still there is always room right next to them for the trained intellects who will make their profession an integral part of their lives, and devote themselves earnestly and truly to its pursuit. Never has there been such a de- mand in medicine for men of the highest type, the deepest insight, the profoundest spirit of investigation. Never have there It is of equal importance to the community as well as to you that you elect wisely what path you will follow in this busy world. Some of you will enter commercial life, lured, possi- bly, by hopes of material reward ; some may be devoted to art, with its esthetic enjoyments; some will find in literature the contentment and fame that come to the successful author; 1 2 been so many questions of grave import to the human race awaiting solution. The mighty problems of life and disease and death crowd upon us and await the touch of a master hand to make the obscure clear, to avert the dire results of accident, to stay the hand of the angel of death, and say in mas- terful tones, “ Thus far and no farther.” Medi- cine is looking to just such well-equipped, thoroughly trained men as you for its cham- pions in this daily fight with death. And if you wish to rise above the dull level of medi- ocrity, it will be to you college men that the renown which is the proper object of a laud- able ambition will surely come. President Thwing, in the June Forum, states that “ Ap- pleton’s Encyclopaedia of American Biogra- phy” contains the names of 912 doctors, of whom 473 were college-bred men. The Medical Record, commenting upon this fact, estimates that 300,000 men have started out in medicine in this country during the present century, and that, if so, the chance of the ordinary doctor becoming famous is about one in three hundred ; but if he be a college- bred man, it is about one in six. Five years ago nearly all the medical schools in this country were two-year schools. Now nearly all have three-year courses and a few four, and the new Pennsylvania law requires four years of study, of which three shall be in a medical school. This movement in the direc- tion of a more thorough education means that the medical schools desire to offer a curriculum worthy to attract the best educated men. Moreover, the medical schools are endeavor- ing to adjust their courses so that they will be the natural continuation of the college courses. Without sacrificing the symmetry and com- pleteness of the college curriculum or abridg- ing the studies for the medical degree, their aim is so to adjust the two that they shall be linked together as one complete whole. Thus many of the medical schools are considering what means can be adopted to draw into affiliation with them the colleges and college men in preference to others. The larger development of the Jefferson Medical College, of the medical department of Harvard Univer- sity, of the University of Michigan, of the University of Pennsylvania, and of Johns Hopkins, are evidences of the same wish to win college men to a medical career. The union of the College of Physicians and Sur- geons with Columbia College as its medical department, and the projected absorption of one or more of the Chicago medical schools by the University of Chicago, show the same tendency. Moreover, Brown University, La- fayette and other Colleges are looking equally toward the medical schools, as I have pointed out, by the establishment of courses which will naturally lead up to medicine. The profession, as I have said, is filled to repletion with poor men and untrained men. What we want is the men fresh from the laboratories of the best colleges—men whose minds are trained in logical methods, who are versed in the “ humanities,” who possess refinement and culture, who, having eyes and ears, have learned to use them. In that delightful book, “ The Gold-headed Cane,” Radclifife (him of the library) visits Mead in his library and says ; “ As I have grown older, every year of my life has convinced me more and more of the value of the education of the scholar and the gentleman to the thorough- bred physician. Perhaps your friend there (pointing to a volume of Celsus) expresses my meaning better than I can myself, when he says that this discipline of the mind, ‘ Quamvis non faciat medicum, aptiorem tamen raedicinse reddit.’ ” If any of you look forward to medicine as a career, you should view it from three different standpoints. First, on its economic side. This is a matter of no little importance, for every man in this world must earn his living, and also naturally looks forward to the sup- port, not only of himself, but of his wife and children in the future. No one should expect in medicine to make a fortune. A few doctors do so, but they are the exception. But every man who enters medicine, if he will be faith- ful and honest in his work, and a fortiori the The signs of the times point to a closer affiliation of colleges and medical schools, which will be equally advantageous to both. 3 more intellectual college man, can be sure of a competence—nay, more, can be sure that he will enjoy not only the reasonable reward of toil, but be able to lay up sufficient for his own old age and for his family. What a fruitful field there is in hygiene both for scientific and benevolent teaching, as to plumbing, drainage, ventilation, clothing, food, drink, city architecture, city streets and sewage, city water supply, and the eradica- tion of all the evil influences which confront us, in country and especially in city life. Many diseases are now recognized as prevent- able if the community were only alive to the ne- cessity and the possibility of their prevention. “ For every case of typhoid fever,” it has been said, “ somebody ought to be hung ”—a rough and epigrammatic way of stating what is un- doubtedly true, that in a perfectly regulated community there would be no typhoid fever. Secondly, a much more elevating and attractive side is the philanthropic or humani- tarian. The medicine of the future will be chiefly in the direction of that most philan- thropic object, the prevention rather than the cure of disease. Hygiene, or preventive medicine, has only arisen since I left college. It has already done much, but it promises far more. If it is necessary to show that the knowledge of hygiene is still limited, look at the recent reports on the sources of the water supply of the city of New York. Nay, you need only go into the slums of your own city; or, if you live in the more God-blessed coun- try, you may find a startling ignorance of the laws of health in almost every farm-house. Nay, more, you need only cross-question a half-dozen of your intimate friends as to their modes of life to discover that the laws of hy- giene are “ more honored in the breach than the observance.” But besides such public benevolent service, there is a personal philanthropic side of medi- cal life, to which I gladly advert. Picture to yourselves the daily life of the doctor. It has undoubtedly its trials, many and great. The humdrum recital of ancient aches and pains sometimes becomes irksome by repetition. The doctor has patients, upon whom he has bestowed unremitting care and his very best mental and physical powers, who have proved ungrateful and have even become his foes. He does an immense amount of unrequited service. His nights are disturbed, his days are not his own, of his family and friends he sees but little. But then, what calling does not have its trials ? In what life is there not friction, which, as in mechanics, should be allied for and not permitted to become a source of irritation and annoyance ? But in spite of all these trials, the doctor’s life is so rich in its personal rewards, in its humane service, that it ought to be to him a daily joy. That there is ample room for missionary work in the matter of personal cleanliness alone will be evident from two recent incidents in my clinics at St. Agnes’ and the Orthopedic Hospitals. At the former, as I uncovered the feet of a woman to examine them in conse- quence of an accident, I was startled at their condition, and asked her when she had had a bath. “ And phwhat’s that ? ” was the innocent reply. A t the latter, last winter, after examining the spine of a young lady of 16, the daughter of a respectable farmer, I said to the parents with a bluntness born of indignant surprise, “ It must be a long time since your daughter has had a bath ? ” “ Why, yes,” said her fa- ther, reflectively, “ I don’t believe she has been in a tub for a year.” To which his indignant wife replied, “ Why, of course she has, John. Don’t you remember that bath she took last summerf” They probably agree with a witty medical friend who seriously avers that “ everybody ought to take a bath once a year, whether he needs it or not.” There is to him a daily personal growth in knowledge. Every sick-room is a school- room, and every case a lesson, from which he comes a larger man. There is a daily per- sonal growth in character, so that he should lie down each night a better man. There is a daily personal growth in his power to do good, which should be at once a reward of past work and a stimulus to better. There is a daily personal growth in the friendships and esteems of life, which constitute one of the most delightful rewards of the doctor. 4 What greater joy can there be in life than to go about among his fellow men, carrying with him, as the doctor does, an atmosphere of comfort, of hope, of courage, of health? surpassed even this result, that every 1000 similar operations to-day add not less than 30,000 years to human life. Think what one such life means, as the pale cheek regains its color, the feeble pulse its force, strength suc- ceeds to weakness, each day records a gain, and finally health is re-established. The ten- der father returns to his usual pursuits; the adored mother once more becomes the cen- tre of loving care of her family; the beloved child is restored to the family circle with ruddy health, rescued from the valley of the shadow of death itself. The hushed voices, the soft tread of the sick-room, have given place to the laughter of health, the mists of sorrow are driven away, the anxious alarms of disease have vanished. What, think you, can equal the joy of the physician as he views this happy transformation ? Who is a dearer, more cherished, more welcome friend than he? Who finds a warmer place by the fireside and in the very hearts of his patients? No one can adequately appreciate his profound joy, his daily delight, his deep gratitude to the “ Giver of every good and perfect gift.” Omy friends ! it is a blessed profession, a divine calling, with a heavenly recompense on earth. There come to him constantly cases in which disease challenges him to a contest. It says to him, as it were, “Catch me if you can, in all my devious wanderings and un- expected disguises and there is a mental exhilaration in following every turn in the trail and running to earth the fleeing goblin which is captivating to every inquiring mind. Look for a moment at the methods of the careful, intelligent doctor, as he investigates such a case. First, he inquires into the family history for lurking influences of evil heredity. Next, into the personal history, not only the physical history of the patient from birth, but the influences of his environment, his habits, his hours of rest, his methods of labor, his physical and mental virtues and vices. Then follows a history of his present illness, including all his symptoms, the exanv ination of his secretions and excretions, the shrewd judgment which eliminates unessen- tial and often the inaccurate or imaginative statements from those which are real and essential. Then, too, he must not forget the influence of mental states; of worry, of family trouble, of personal trials. Next he passes to the physical examination of his patient, when his eye must be as keen as that of an eagle, his touch deft and delicate in estimating fize, consistency, elasticity, and other physical conditions. He must then co-ordinate all of the disjointed facts with a mental acumen and logical method, which, at first laborious, becomes afterward comparatively easy if he has been faithful and thorough in his earlier investigations. By these means he reaches a diagnosis and settles definitely upon the medical or surgical treatment. Each case, then, is a study in physics, anatomy, physi- ology, pathology, psychology, chemistry, therapeutics. In the vast majority of cases he is rewarded by seeing returning health. Sir Spencer Wells as the net result of his first 1000 ovariotomies added 20,000 years to human life, and so far has modern surgery But sometimes death must come. Even here, however, the kind and sympathetic physician finds his place. Who can so ten- derly guide the poor sufferer to his long rest, so gently assuage the pain of the dying ? Who so endears himself to broken hearts in the hour of their bitter extremity as the strong yet tender Christian physician ? Often even death makes for us our dearest, most loving friends, who would pass through fire and water for us. Even the dangers of medicine and surgery are an attraction akin to those which draw the hardy mountaineer toward the dizzy heights of the Matterhorn. And when to these dangers is added, in times of pestilence, the clarion call of duty to his fellow man, where has there been a recreant doctor ? Point out the renegade if you can. The gal- lant Six Hundred who rode into the Valley of Death were no braver than the unsung heroes 5 of Norfolk or of Hamburg. I glory in my profession, that in such hours of peril it has known no cowards; the meanest soldier in its ranks has been a brave, unselfish, devoted hero, and oftentimes a faithful, gentle martyr, dying at his post of duty. emboldened us to perform many operations undreamed of even by an Astley Cooper, a Nelaton, or a Pancoast. The third great discovery of the century is the new science of bacteriology, a child as yet in its teens. It arose when many of my younger auditors were discarding their knick- erbockers for trousers. That minute organ- isms or germs were the cause of very many diseases had long been suspected, but until twelve years ago we were not at all certain that the process of inflammation and the for- mation of matter or pus, or that many well- known diseases, were the result Of such germs. Now we know not only that they are the cause of all inflammation, but scientific in- vestigation has shown us that all suppuration, pneumonia, lockjaw, diphtheria, erysipelas, leprosy, tuberculosis, and a host of other diseases are due to these minute vegetable germs. You can easily understand that only the first elementary facts have been ascer- tained, and by no means all of these. Here is a whole new science awaiting patient in- vestigation and brilliant discovery. Who that has ambition and enthusiasm is not aroused by such a prospect ? But besides the economic and the philan- thropic side, medicine has its splendid scientific aspect, which fuses with both of the others and yet may be regarded separately from them. Let me point out some of the best achievements and present problems of medicine. The present century has seen vast strides in every department of medi- cine. I will not weary you by mention- ing the immense improvements made in many minor details, which would be more suited to a technical audience; but it is proper that I should allude to three brilliant discoveries which stand out prominently as of the first magnitude. First, the discovery of anaesthetics. The beneficent results from this discovery are so well known that I need only call attention to them, and also note in passing that the three principal anaesthetics, ether, chloroform, and nitrous oxide, are American either by discov- ery or by introduction into general use. How is it that these minute germs produce their malign influences ? We know that they secrete or in some way prodqce certain dele- terious poisons in the human body, but how these or the bacteria act we do not know. When we learn just how they act, in all prob- ability we shall be able soon to discover the means of counteracting their harmful influ- ences. The problem how to destroy the bacteria without destroying the patient is one which we have not yet solved. We know that they produce infection. We know fairly well how to prevent their en- trance into the body in surgical cases, by the careful antiseptic cleansing of the person of the patient, of the instruments, sponges, dressings, hands—everything which comes in contact with the wound. But in many in- stances cases are brought to us already in- fected. A man who has met with any accident has an infected wound, and if any time has elapsed his system has become in- The second great achievement is the anti- septic method, by one of our cousins across the sea, the justly immortal Sir Joseph Lister. While anaesthetics have been an immense boon, especially in the domain of surgery, antiseptics have saved countless lives and un- told suffering. The method is so recent that I have seen both its birth and its develop- ment. In our late war and for ten years after its close every wound and every operation was followed, as a matter of course, by fever and more or less suppuration, or the formation of “matter,” which in a multitude of cases resulted in blood-poisoning, erysipelas, hospital gan- grene, lockjaw, and a hundred other kindred evils from this Pandora’s box. Now, how- ever, we are enabled to perform any one of the ordinary operations, such as amputations, ligations of the great blood-vessels, the ex- tirpation of tumors, and the like, with almost absolute safety, and this surgical security has 6 fected. We are as yet groping for methods by which we can surely overcome such a pre- viously established infection. Here, you see, is another field for scientific activity and the most beneficent results. does not take. We know very well, too, that there are some human diseases from which cer- tain persons are exempt. For instance, some people have grown up from childhood, been exposed to scarlet fever, or measles, or small- pox, and yet have not taken it. These ani- mals or people have what we call a “ natural immunity ”to these diseases. Thus far, pre- ventive medicine has only attacked one dis- ease in the way of producing an artificial or “ acquired immunity.” This is vaccination* by which immunity against smallpox is pro- duced, or, in other words, a vaccinated person can be exposed repeatedly, even in epidemics of smallpox, without contracting the disease. With such a striking example before us for over a century, how strange it is that it did not suggest experiments in the same direction in other diseases. We are learning how to prevent typhoid fever, tuberculosis, and other medical dis- eases, but have not even yet begun to learn how to prevent the entrance into the system of the bacilli of pneumonia, influenza, and other similar diseases. The fearful ravages of cancer are familiar to all. Its cause is unknown, its cure is achieved only by its early extirpation, and even then, I must regretfully confess, is but rare. But with- in the last year research has seemed to show that we are on the verge of the discovery of its cause, and if so time will give us its cure. Who of you would not rather make such a discovery than be the father of the Atlantic cable or the successful general of a great war ? Who would be so blessed by future millions of man- kind as the discoverer of such a boon to the whole race ? But at last this hint has been taken, and it promises much in the future. For instance, it has been discovered that if we inoculate an animal with the germ of lockjaw, the most virulent of all bacteria, and then take the watery part of the animal’s blood—the blood- serum—and inoculate another animal with it, the second animal may then be inoculated with the germ of lockjaw without becoming the victim of the disease ; in other words, in the second animal there has been produced an acquired immunity against the disease. Even if the lockjaw had already attacked the second animal, this blood-serum, it was found, would vanquish the disease. Here we come to one of the most striking recent results of scientific investigation. Once that it had been tried sufficiently often to determine that this mode of conferring immunity or of arrest- ing the disease was not deleterious to the animal, it was deemed right that the same at- tempt should be made in man to cure this dreadful malady; and within the last three or four years there have been recorded nearly a score of cases iri which patients suffering from violent attacks of lockjaw have been cured by inoculation with the blood-serum from such an animal. This immunity or cure is supposed to come from some antidote, or, as it is called, antitoxin, produced in the first Again, there are certain half-discovered facts which already give us glimpses of un- suspected triumphs. Within the last few years it has been found by experiments on animals that the germs of certain diseases, when inoculated, for instance, in a rabbit, from that to a second, a third, and so on, become intensified in their action ; whereas, if simi- larly inoculated in one monkey after another they become diluted and weakened in their action. How or why does the virus or germ become stronger by transmission through a series of rabbits and weaker in its transmis- sion through monkeys ? How can we utilize this for the benefit of humanity? Here is another problem awaiting its Newton or its Morse. Again, we know that there are animals in which we cannot produce certain diseases. For instance, the attempt has been made scores of times to inoculate cancer into the lower animals without success. They do not suffer from measles or scarlet fever, whoop- ing-cough or mumps. There are also dis- eases peculiar to certain animals which man 7 inoculated animal and introduced into the body of the second animal or of man with the blood-serum. Think you that it will be no great service to humanity, no great scien- tific feat, which will fill one’s mind with a won- dering, never-ending satisfaction, and crown his life with fame, when this problem is fully solved ? What extraordinary results it may lead to we can as yet only guess at, but its possibilities seem magnificent. At this very moment Dr. Hafifkine is in India inoculating people with the antitoxin of cholera, and bids fair to succeed in his efforts to limit or pre- vent this fearful plague. amenable to operation, but modern surgical methods have so improved that several hundreds of cases have been reported in which the goitre has been removed, and the patients have nearly all recovered. But after these operations a curious and unexpected result was found. Goitre consists in the en- largement of a certain gland in the neck, called the thyroid gland. If the whole of this gland, either in health or disease, was re- moved, a considerable proportion of such patients underwent a sort of elephantine growth all over the body. The features became thick and clumsy, the fingers and toes swelled to twice or thrice their or- dinary size. The mental condition, also, de- generated into a form of cretinism. This misfortune attending the complete removal of the gland led, first to a modification of the operation, viz.: the partial instead of the total removal of the gland; even a little of the gland, if left, it was found would prevent such a bad result. But it has done more than this. Victor Horsley, in England, suggested that in cases in which, as sometimes occurs, this dis- ease, myxoedema, arose spontaneously, the thyroid gland itself might be used as its best remedy. Accordingly, first it was used surgi- cally, The thyroid gland was removed from a sheep and transplanted under the skin or into the abdominal cavity of the patient. It grew there, and so long as it remained the patient was bettered; but experience showed that the gland soon disappeared, and the bet- terment vanished with it. Then an extract was prepared from the gland and used hypo- dermatically. This gave still better results; but it was suggested again that if the patient were simply fed on the gland itself (it is one of the sweetbreads of the body), cure might follow ; and within the past year a large num- ber of cases have been reported which have been cured by this wholly new method of treatment. See, then, here another fruitful field of research in the administration of various remedies derived from particular glands or other structures in the animal body. Already such an extract from the brain has been used in epilepsy, but it is too early as You have all heard, of course, of Koch’s tuberculin. This consists of a modification of the ptomaines or poisons produced by die little bacillus or germ which causes tuberculo- sis, or consumption. You know how the discovery was prematurely announced and heralded by the newspapers, and then fell into disuse, and has been the object both of ob- loquy and ridicule. As a matter of fact, it is still being used in other modified forms by physicians and surgeons, and it is not too much to say that we have gone a long way toward finding the means by which within the next few years we shall probably cure con- sumption and all the dire effects which follow from tuberculosis. And when I tell you that there is not an organ in the body which is not affected by tuberculosis, and that it is the cause of far more suffering and more deaths than any other disease, you will appreciate the immense boon its cure will be. And please note that these instances which I have given, of lockjaw, and cholera, and consumption, are but types of a series of investigations in the antitoxins, or natural antidotes. This opens the door to a wholly new class of remedies, furnished by our very foes, on which a large number of experiments are being constantly made. Within the last two years also another class of remedies has been introduced, especially in connection with a disease with which you are probably not familiar, known as myxoe- dema. You all, doubtless, are aware of what goitre is. Until lately it was scarcely deemed 8 yet to say whether the result will prove to be good or not. Within a month, Vaughan, of Ann Arbor, has also called attention to the fact that the extract of the thyroid and other glands is fatal to bacteria. This new discov- ery may lead to the most beneficial results. Stanley. Here, again, is another problem seeking solution—a problem which is enough to arouse the scientific ambition of any enthu- siastic mind. Again, it is only within the last five years that an accurate knowledge of the relation of diseases of the ear to diseases of the brain has been recognized and their scientific sur- gical treatment begun. The splendid results already achieved give promise that within a few years we shall know not only how to cure brain disease, the result of ear disease, but, what is far better, how to prevent it. But what we do not know in bacteriology is far, far greater than what we do know. The bacteria of scarlet fever, of measles, of small- pox, of whooping-cough, of typhus fever, rabies, and many other diseases are as yet wholly unknown and awaiting your touch, your investigation. If you miss the chance, others will seize it. The anatomy of the nerves has been known for many years in its gross outlines, but the problems which present themselves here are many and varied. Cut a certain nerve, the ulnar, which supplies the inner part of the hand, and the results are not the same in all patients. You may abolish touch, and yet pain will remain. You may even, as I have seen within the last few weeks in several cases, cut out one to three inches of the sensitive nerve of the face, and it will be reproduced, and with it the frightful pain of tic douloureux, for which the nerve was removed, will return. On the other hand, by a wound or an opera- tion, from one to three inches of a nerve may be removed, and you want the nerve to be reproduced and so re-establish sensation in the skin supplied by it and motion in the mus- cles to which it goes, and the nerve steadily refuses to reproduce itself. Why in the one case it will and why in the other case it will not reproduce itself we do not know. In fact, what we do 7ioi know about nerves alone would make a good-sized book. If I were to ask any one of you whether Anatomy, Physiology, and Chemistry are comparatively complete sciences, I suppose you would answer, unhesitatingly, yes. On the contrary, they are most incomplete. We know to a fair extent the gross anatomy of the human body, although even here there is an immense deal to be learned ; but the mi- nute anatomy is not well known, and there is scarcely an organ in the body whose physiol- ogy has been half studied. Even so common a substance as the white of an egg has thus far defied the chemists, and the analysis of 95 per cent, of the solids of the animal body is imperfect. Yet this is fundamental physio- logical chemistry. When I first taught Anatomy the great divisions of the brain into two hemispheres, the cerebrum, the cerebellum, etc., were, of course, known, but the various convolutions of the brain surface were deemed to be simply fortuitous by the anatomist, the physiologist, the physician, or the surgeon, and one convo- lution had no more value than another. In- vestigations in the last twenty years have definitely mapped out the brain, showing that the convolutions and fissures are not arranged hap-hazard, but on a definite plan. A portion of the brain at the back of the head and a little at the side of the head are fairly well- known—well enough, indeed, for the success- ful performance of extraordinary operations in diseases and injuries of the brain. But all the rest of the brain is as yet almost a terra in- cognita—an Africa standing expectant for its Thirty years ago, when we looked at an eye all we knew was what we could see on the outside. The trouble was that nothing could be seen inside the eye, although there was such an inviting window in front of it by which we could look in, because the interior was totally dark. But it occurred to Helm- holz that if by a little bit of looking glass he reflected light into the eye, and then scratched a little hole in the quicksilver, he could look through the hole into the illuminated interior of the eye and see all there was inside of it. 9 From this simple idea has arisen the ophthal- moscope, by which the whole medicine and surgery of the eye have been revolutionized, and great light has also been thrown on dis- eases of the brain. years, greater, I venture to say, than in all previous time, I believe that the next fifty years will far eclipse the discoveries of the past fifty. Who could have predicted the rise of bacteriology a score of years ago ? And who will venture to say that in the next twenty years another science, equally far- reaching, equally beneficent, equally brilliant in its achievements, may not arise? Even the present is a splendid time. ’Tis Again, when the mouth was opened, we could see certain parts, but the whole interior of the larynx and windpipe was beyond our sight, and, therefore, beyond our knowledge. But soon after the ophthalmoscope was dis- covered, Czermak and Turck found that if a little mirror were held in the back of the throat at an angle of about 450 and a ray of light were thrown upon it from a small per- forated bit of looking glass, the interior of the throat, like the interior of the eye, would be illuminated, and we could look through the little hole in the looking-glass and see the re- flected image of the vocal chords and the whole of the larynx in the mirror. “ An age on ages telling, To be living is sublime.” But the twentieth century, in which you will live, will be the most glorious time of all the ages. And you may take part in this grand march of progress, not only in the rank and file, but as a leader if you will but write; or it may be if you have the gift of imparting know- ledge you may be one of the teachers of medical science—an enviable post of labor and responsibility, but also of unequaled honor and enjoyment. Similar inventions await the ingenious in- vestigator of the future for the examination of other cavities and organs of the body, and the day is not far distant when we shall be able, I hope, to see, and therefore to know, the interior of the stomach as well as we do the exterior of the body. That this will illumi- nate our own minds, as well as the stomachs of our patients, is certain. Have I not put before you enough to arouse the ambition, the energy, the benevolence, the enthusiasm of any young man about to choose his career ? Can there be in any other depart- ment of human knowledge so fine a field for research, for discovery, for fame, and, what is far better, for serving the human race ? If in consequence of what I have said to you some of you will select medicine as your chosen pursuit, rest assured that if you will faithfully perform your duty, at the close of life you will have the pleasure of surveying a career which has been advantageous to yourselves, has been a means of doing good to your fellow men, and, I verily believe, has approxi- mated as near as possible to the Divine life as is given to any man to do. And so I might go on in one department of medicine after another, presenting to you similar problems, some of them so technical that they would not be suited to a non-pro- fessional audience, and in each show you the vast need there is for bright minds. Has the last word been said in surgery, in medicine, in the diseases of any of the special organs of the body ? Nay, verily, we are but at the alphabet of investigation and of cure. Great as has been • the progress in the last fifty