AN ADDRESS 
TO THE 
(irabuatts 
OF THE 
ST. LOUIS MEDICAL COLLEGE, 
Delivered March 4th, 1864, 
By M. M. FALLEN, M.D. 
PUBLISHED BY THE GRADUATES OF THE CLASS. 
ST. LOUIS: 
GEORGE KNAPP & CO., PRINTERS AND BINDERS. 
1864. AN ADDRESS 
TO THE 
fchates 
OF THE 
ST. LOUIS MEDICAL COLLEGE, 
Delivered March. 4th, 1864, 
M. M. FALLEN, M.D. 
PUBLISHED BY THE GRADUATES OF THE CLASS. 
ST. LOUIS: 
GEORGE KNAPP & CO., PRINTERS AND BINDERS. 
1864. CORRESPONDENCE. 
St. Louis, March 5, 1864. 
Dear Sir :-We, the undersigned Committee, appointed by the Graduates, 
do hereby respectfully solicit a copy of your Address for publication. 
R. W. ANDERSON, 
J. F. S. BARBOUR, 
E. CRAWSHAW, 
R. J. REILLY, 
L. S. TESSON, 
H. A. LEMEN, President. 
To M. M. Fallen, M.D. 
St. Louis, March 5, 1864. 
Gentlemen:-In accordance with your request of this date, I send you a 
copy of my Address. Accept for yourselves and the Class my best wishes for 
your success in your professional career. 
Yours most truly, 
M. M. FALLEN. 
Messrs. R. W. Anderson, 
J. F. S. Barbour, 
E. Crawshaw, 
R. J. Reilly, 
L. S. Tesson, 
H. A. Lemen. ADDRESS. 
Gentlemen of the Graduating Class :-Another year of 
mental toil has rolled around ; another year of study has 
passed; and, as the reward of your diligence and application, 
a College of mature age and cautious discrimination has pro- 
nounced upon your fitness to assume the responsible position 
of practising Physicians. 
You are about to enter the world in a new capacity. You 
no longer stand on the outside of the temple of Science, to gaze 
on its beauteous proportions ; but you are admitted near the 
altar, to officiate among the initiated. The book of knowledge 
you have acquired is to be unfolded, and its precepts applied 
for the noble purpose of relieving the sufferings of your fel- 
low man. 
The science of Medicine has engaged the attention of the 
best intellects that have adorned all ages; it has ranked 
amongst its votaries names that became bright with the first 
dawn of learning, and names that were radiant with glory, as 
knowledge culminated in the zenith; as an art it has existed 
since man was from Eden driven, and, by his fall, became ex- 
posed to causes which produce disease, and to injuries which 
pain and wound. As distress and suffering begat compassion, 
so compassion created the desire to relieve. Thus the art can 
be traced back, through the long evolution of time, to the 
period when the earth was young. As it has advanced with 
ages, the learned and the philanthropic have been engaged in 
its practice. With these you are now to be associated in your 
labors of love. Charity precedes you, Mercy attends you, and 
Hope follows in your footsteps. The morn of your professional 
life opens with a gilded horizon, and the evening will close, I 
trust, with a placid and cleai' sky. 6 
But, nevertheless, the life of a Physician is not without its 
cares and its troubles. Many are the causes which produce 
such cares, and foremost amongst them is the ignorance of 
mankind as to the nature of Medicine. This ignorance dis- 
covers itself in different degrees of credulity, and even super- 
stition. It leads to the adoption of all kinds of systems- 
systems founded on follies and fallacies-contradictory in their 
theories, and totally opposed in their practice. To-day it is the 
Homoeopath, and to-morrow it is the Hydropath, and the next 
day it is the Kincsapath ; and these give way to the Herb Doc- 
tors and the Root Doctors, who come upon the stage but to 
precede the Faith Doctor or seventh son, or the Spiritual Doc- 
tor, who holds communion with the spirit of some departed 
Physician, and who, by the bye, although in the land of spirits, 
still adheres to the old school, which shows that it is orthodox. 
The man whose mind has been trained by severe application 
to observe well and to reason correctly-whose education has 
been upon the most liberal scale, who has trimmed his mid- 
night lamp in the pursuit of science, who has worshipped at the 
shrine of Divine Philosophy-is thrust aside to give place to 
some one whose great merit consists in the splendor of his 
equipage and the suavity of his manners ; and this, too, when 
his aid is required in the solution of problems more difficult of 
analysis than the determination of the quantity of gold in King 
Hiero's crown. Now, why is this ? Why does it happen that 
men who ought to know better often make such mistakes. In 
the ordinary concerns of life they are shrewd enough. If their 
watches are out of repair, they select some well known and 
skillful watchmaker to put them in order. If they propose to 
build a house, they apply to some well known architect for a 
design. If the title to their landed estates be assailed, they 
consult some eminent jurist. But when life is at stake; 
when the human organism is out of repair, the machinery of 
which is far more complicated than that of a watch, and upon 
which life has a lease far more delicate and obscure than any 
legal title, the opinion of some respectable old lady, or some 
pretender who advertises largely in a newspaper, is preferred 
to that of an Hippocrates or a Sydenham. Is it owing to some 
hallucination ? Is the human intellect so obfuscated that it 7 
cannot pierce through the mist surrounding ? Are all the 
avenues to correct conclusions so barricaded by prejudices that 
common sense cannot find any entrance ? By no means. It 
is because so few know anything of the power, the scope, and 
the nature of medical knowledge. Philosophers can well judge 
of the powers of the other sciences ; the astronomer can weigh 
and measure the sun, and the planets that revolve around it, 
and calculate their distances, and he will tell us that these 
planets revolve in certain fixed orbits from their mutual 
attraction ; and the poet tells us, 
" That self-same law which molds a tear, 
And bids it trickle from its source; 
That law preserves the earth a sphere, 
And guides the planets in their course." 
But when we come to ask the former what is attraction, and 
the latter what is that self-same law, they are obliged to pause 
and acknowledge that human intellect can no farther go. 
The chemist can resolve a compound substance into simple 
ones, and combine elements into compound substances, and the 
power he invokes he calls affinity; but, when asked what is 
affinity, he has to acknowledge the limit of human intellect. 
But, nevertheless, what wonders have been achieved by science ? 
It marshals the starry hosts, arranges the planets and satellites 
into the glorious system of worlds, which fills the immensity of 
space; it calculates their changes, studies their motions, and 
makes them serve as eternal light-houses in the skies to guide 
the mariner on the trackless deep. Were it necessary to erect 
another Cheops as a sepulchre for a mighty potentate, instead 
of condemning a hundred thousand laborers to constant toil 
for twenty years, science would pile the huge stones, one upon 
another, in a comparatively short time, by the combustion of 
four hundred and eighty tons of coal. Philosophy, clothed in 
the garb of chemistry, no longer wastes its powers in the vain 
attempt to transmute the base into the precious metals-no 
longer seeks the never-to-be-found elixir of life ; but it teaches 
the artisan to convert the valueless rag into smooth paper, and 
to impress the truths of knowledge on this with so much celer- 
ity and economy that the treasures of learning are not now 8 
limited to a few, but are sown broadcast throughout the length 
and breadth of the land. It conveys the message of man from 
the Atlantic to the Pacific in a few minutes, and could do it, 
were it not for some extraneous circumstances, in less time 
than the interval between two ticks of a clock. It seizes the 
flickering sun-beam, and compels it to paint likenesses with an 
accuracy that a Reynolds might envy. It fastens steam to the 
ponderous engine, by which metals arc drawn from the earth 
and pounded and smelted and molded into every form that 
fashion or utility can desire. It lends wings to the huge ship, 
which, as it ploughs the dark blue ocean, derides the winds, 
surmounts the fury of the waves, and seemingly annihilates 
space. It harnesses a power to the chariot which enables it to 
outstrip the flight of birds and " the peltings of the pitiless 
storm." 
Such, and other magnificent results, have been obtained by 
clearly comprehending and applying the laws of nature, with- 
out knowing the cause of such laws. So it is with Medicine. 
The scientific Physician, following and obeying the laws which 
govern the animal economy, alleviates suffering, shortens dis- 
ease, and saves life. But he cannot oppose the laws of nature; 
he cannot cure an incurable disease; he cannot cure an ad- 
vanced consumption, but he can direct those who are predis- 
posed to it how to live, so as, in all probability, to escape it; he 
cannot stop an epidemic, which marches from country to coun- 
try, marking its course with desolation and ruin ; but he can 
prevent the recurrence of an endemic, when he has discovered 
its local cause, and ordered its removal. 
The well educated Physician understands the power, the 
scope, and the nature of his art; but the community does not. 
One man supposes that every symptom of a disease is a disease 
itself, and has its appropriate remedy, and he will appeal to the 
Homoeopath, who professes to have a remedy for every symp- 
tom. Another will suppose that all diseases having any one 
symptom in common are alike; and hearing that some one has 
got rid of a sore throat by applying a wet bandage around the 
neck, will send for the Hydropath for his sore throat, never 
dreaming that such conditions arise from different causes, and 
require different treatments. A third believes that there is 9 
something very mysterious in disease, not to be reached by 
science-it takes a conjurer, or something like to conjuring, to 
cure it-and he calls on the Faith Doctor, or the Spiritual 
Doctor; and so through the long catechism of humbuggery, 
quackery, and impudent pretensions, before which the Physi- 
cian has occasionally given way, from the time when Medicine 
became a science down to the present. And this constitutes 
one of the vexations of the practice of Medicine. 
You will often, gentlemen, have to contend with most un- 
reasonable prejudices against certain remedies. Patients have 
an idea that many articles in the Materia Medica are strong 
medicines, when in reality, if judiciously administered, they 
are strong only in doing good. It may be very improper, at 
certain times, to give opium, or quinine, or cold water; at 
others any one of these may be the very thing that is wanted. 
At one time a little wine would be the worst thing our patients 
could take; at another time it would be the best. The objec- 
tions arise from the abuse of the remedy ; but, unfortunately, 
when once conceived, they obtain possession of the patient's 
mind, and are difficult of obliteration. You are met at the 
very threshold of your treatment by vain objections to the 
means you ought to employ to fulfil your duties. And this is 
another source of vexation to the Physician. 
Too often there is a prejudice against the young practitioner. 
The world looks out for some one who is experienced. What 
is meant by experience ? Does it simply imply having seen 
much ? If this be its meaning, experience is of very little value. 
A man who has seen much, and observed but little, has profited 
but little by his experience. Experience is valuable only as 
conjoining seeing much and observing closely. Many men are 
incapable of close observation. Many striking facts escape 
them altogether. They walk along the sea-shore and see 
nothing at all. The observer of nature would pick up some 
of the most beautiful of Ocean's treasures. Some men will 
wander about night after night, and never see any change in 
the stellar firmament. But when the Chaldean, beneath his 
serene sky and clear atmosphere, whilst tending his flocks, 
watched the bright stars, and saw some appear in the west 
after sun-set, and found them nearer and nearer the sun every 10 
evening, and finally disappear in his light, and rise, after an 
interval, before the sun, he connected the phenomena with the 
return of the seasons, and this led to the formation of his idea 
of a year. Time, the measured portion of eternity, sprang into 
existence. Many may see well, and observe the facts well, and 
yet be incapable of reasoning upon the observed facts. Obser- 
vation alone never led Harvey to the discovery of the circula- 
tion of the blood. Others, long before, him had seen the 
valves in the heart, and the valves in the veins; but they 
never divined the uses of those valves. He was a good rea- 
soner, and the greatest and most brilliant discovery in Physi- 
ology resulted from his good reasoning. 
It does not necessarily follow, because a man is advanced in 
years, that he is a medical philosopher. He may have seen 
much and observed but little. He may have observed very 
closely, but reasoned very incorrectly on observed facts, and 
may have grown gray in the worship of false hypotheses de- 
duced from real facts. 
Nor does it necessarily follow, that a man younger in years 
is wanting in experience. He may not have seen much, but 
what he has seen he has observed well and interpreted fairly. 
His keen intellect has pierced through nature's mysteries and 
exposed her inmost workings. He has observed individual 
facts, and collected and generalized them. He has made in this 
ways laws for himself, to guide him in his future course. Many 
men have become illustrious at an early age. Alexander in his 
seventeenth year, at the battle of Cheronea, not only saved his 
father Philipp's army from defeat, but gained a complete vic- 
tory. Charles the Twelfth of Sweden, at the age of eighteen, 
at the head of 8,000 Swedes, routed 80,000 Russians, and 
continued his bold, victorious, but cruel career until his cele- 
brated defeat at Pultawa, when he was but twenty-seven years 
old. And in our science, the names of Bichat and Godman 
were made illustrious at an early age. But be prepared to see 
men preferred over you because they are older, but not better. 
This is another source of vexation. It often happens that older 
practitioners laugh at those things that younger ones know 
how to prize. Some improvement in diagnosis is introduced, 
and the physician already established in full practice does not 11 
deem it necessary to learn it. He has his reputation already 
made, and he will not care to trouble himself with a labor 
which is not requisite for his success. I can well remember 
when auscultation was ridiculed by many, and the stethoscope 
styled as a plaything. I do not mean to assert that the profession 
generally rejected the immortal discovery of Laennec-far from 
it. It was appreciated at once. Its accuracy and its certainty 
were acknowledged by scientific men. The uncertainties of 
thoracic complaints were now removed. Maladies heretofore 
deemed incurable were now treated with success, as their true 
nature was better understood. And, on the other hand, it re- 
vealed but too early the cause of the languor, and lassitude of 
the whole system-of the flushed cheek, and the brilliant eye, 
and the hacking cough-sad harbingers of the coming death. 
With what a melancholy and painful interest does the Physi- 
cian hear the voice come up through the tube to his ear, de- 
claring that there is nothing the matter there, when the hear- 
ing of the voice contradicts the words I 
There are many now who laugh at the opthalmoscope ; many 
who have never seen the instrument, or, at least, have never 
seen it used. The idea of seeing so deeply in the eye as to 
perceive the retina itself and its blood-vessels, seems to be im- 
possible; yet the young Oculist who eagerly follows in the foot- 
steps of science so adjusts his light and his reflector as to 
accomplish it with ease. And it is the same with the laryngo- 
scope, and with other instruments even more useful to estab- 
lish a diagnosis, and to perfect a cure. 
This opposition to new and important improvements, on the 
part of some of our brethren, particularly if they be elder 
brothers, is another source of vexation to him who loves sci- 
ence for humanity's sake. 
Another great source of pain to the Physician is the want of 
attention to our directions. How many diseases are protracted 
by neglecting to attend literally to the orders of the medical 
adviser! how many curable maladies terminate fatally! Few 
persons know the vast importance of adhering strictly to the 
warnings of the friendly voice of him who has made the health 
of man his special study. He perceives in its very incipiency 12 
the commencement of the malady that, if unchecked, will lead 
to a premature grave; he sees in the long vista of distance 
the shadows of death gathering around its victim, which 
could be dispelled by a few simple rules, but which, if neglect- 
ed, will lead to fatal results. But the advice that prescribes 
these results is unheeded. Even when the patient is stretched 
on the bed of sickness the Physician is not literally obeyed, and 
in the period of convalescence many errors are committed; 
relapses occur, and often death follows. When the Physician 
is looking with fond hope to the recovery of his patient, the 
injudicious kindness of a friend overthrows all his calculations, 
and he mourns the loss of one whom he could have saved 
were it not for such interference. 
These are some of the pains incidental to the profession you 
have chosen, and there arc many others. Expect to be called 
out at unreasonable hours, when there is no necessity, in the 
summer's heat and the winter's cold. Expect to be disturbed 
and consulted at hours which are usually devoted to meals. 
Be prepared to sacrifice social intercourse and family gather- 
ings, when a little reflection on the part of your friends could 
prevent these annoyances. But we must make all due allow- 
ance for the anxiety of parents, for the affectionate fear of hus- 
band or wife, and cheerfully submit to our own loss of comfort, 
if it relieves the forebodings, the solicitudes, and the fears of 
the relatives of our patients. 
Another source of annoyance to you will be the great solici- 
tude of Mrs. Changeable to advance the interests of Doctor 
Transitory, who may chance at that time to be her favorite. 
It is a very remarkable fact, that those who select their Physi- 
cians with care, and adhere to them for years, never urge others 
to employ them. They are not disposed to change their own 
medical advisers, and they do not desire to influence others to 
do that which they are not willing to do themselves. But 
there is a large class of individuals who are constantly chang- 
ing. To-day they are swallowing an honest, old-fashioned blue 
pill; to-morrow they will take a pill of arsenicum of an infin- 
itesimal smallness ; and the next day they will indulge in all 
the comforts of a wet sheet, with the thermometer twenty de- 13 
grees below zero. Change, change, is their motto. Like the 
pendulum of a clock, they are constantly vibrating from one 
side to the other. 
Now, as these people change their Doctors with the same 
nonchalance as they do their hats or bonnets, they are ever 
desirous that others should do the same. They seek to destroy 
the confidence of the sick in their medical attendant; they 
create in the minds of those prostrate with fevers an uneasiness 
for fear their cases are not understood and are badly managed; 
they eject from the bed-side of the patient the tried friend of 
many years; they dismiss one familiar with his constitution 
and thoroughly acquainted with the history and the symptoms 
of his malady, and they introduce one totally ignorant of all 
these. The old pilot, who has steered the vessel over many a 
breaker in a rough storm, gives way to a new one knowing 
nothing of the locality, and having no chart or compass by 
which he can guide the bark. Some years ago a medical prac- 
titioner had under his charge a lady, then in bad health. Mrs. 
Changeable knew the lady, visited her often, and implored her 
to dismiss her regular medical adviser, and send for her (Mrs. 
Changeable's) Doctor; she knew he could cure her ; the lady's 
Physician was too timid ; he did not give strong medicines; he 
did not stretch out his hand and strangle disease in its birth; 
Mrs. Changeable was afflicted just like the lady, and her Doctor 
cured her up at once. The lady respectfully declined the offer. 
A month or so rolled around. Again the persevering friend 
made her appearance. She had discharged her Doctor, who 
had cured her at once with strong medicines, and got another; 
she was delighted with him, and she was determined the lady 
should be delighted also. She urged his claims with all the 
eloquence she could bring to bear. " But I thought," said the 
lady, "that your other Doctor had cured you." "Oh no, he 
merely patched me up, but I was not cured; but I will be now, 
and so will you if you will follow my advice." But again the 
lady declined the offer. Another month or so rolled around, 
and again Mrs. Changeable returned to the charge, but she had 
changed the mode of attack. She had dismissed her second 
Doctor, because he gave too strong medicines ; she had fled 
from the field of pills, potions, blisters and cupping-glasses, and 14 
taken refuge behind the shadows of medicines in the shape of 
infinitesimal doses. And thus she continued to change, endeav- 
oring all the time to carry her friend with her, until the ail- 
ment under which she really suffered assumed its marked ma- 
lignant type and hurried her prematurely to the spirit land, 
" where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are 
at rest; " and among the last who were called upon to give 
advice was the very man whom she had a few years before 
desired her friend to dismiss. 
But the saddest of all duties of the Physician is to witness 
at times the fruitlessness of his art. Often he has to realize 
that death, under some form, will claim his victim. The sun 
which rises in the East, gilding the dawn of day with its gorgeous 
golden hues, attains its meridian splendor, and then gradually 
sets in the West, leaving the earth to be wrapped in darkness. 
So does the sun of life depart, and the darkness of death assume 
its place. It may be at early dawn, whilst the playful spirit 
has as yet made its existence known only by the smiles it 
gratefully returns to the gratified mother; it may be when the 
child-like, simple girl has just passed into womanhood, as the 
rose-bud becomes the full-blown flower, or when the boy has 
laid aside his top and his kite, to take up the buckler and the 
spear for his country's weal or his country's woe; it may be 
when the brawny arm of the mature man sustains a rising 
family; or it may be in the decadency of life, when the sere 
and the yellow leaf of vitality dies and falls off. But whether 
it be at early dawn, or it be the noontide sun or at chilly eve, 
come it will, and leave a cheerless blank behind. 
But let us turn to the other side of the picture. We have 
looked upon the dark shadows in the background, and now let 
us see the brighter colors in front. From the pains of a pro- 
fessional life let us turn to its pleasures. They are not to be 
found in the acquisition of wealth. They are not to be found 
in the gratification of ambition. They are to be met with in 
the pleasures which knowledge affords, and in the gratification 
of the feelings of charity, benevolence, and love. A Physician 
must necessarily be a man of science. To him is unfolded the 
human organization, so fearfully and wonderfully made ; the 
brain, so curiously contrived, and "which some suppose the 15 
soul's frail dwelling-house ; " the heart, with its chambers and 
its valves, so well adapted to be the centre of a great hydraulic 
apparatus ; the hand, whose mechanism so far surpasseth all 
human skill that a volume has been written to show that none 
but Divine wisdom could have conceived it. 
To the Physician Histology opens a microcosm; whilst Ana- 
tomy describes the organs, Histology shows the manner of 
their construction. Grand paid towering as may be the edifice, 
yet how simple the structure, alike in the vegetable and in 
the animal kingdom !-seen as well in the humblest cryptoga- 
mic plant as the lordly oak-in the polypus as in man. Yet 
who, before the microscope revealed the truth, would have 
imagined that man has a common.origin with the worm he 
treads upon? Who would have dreamt that the lordly lion, 
the crawling reptile, the majestic oak, the humble snow-drop, 
are all alike in their first elements ? But it is true that all ani- 
mals and all plants spring from a primordial cell, which in the 
vegetable kingdom continues to preserve its characters, and in 
the animal kingdom undergoes a development into tissues, 
nerves, blood-vessels, bone and muscle. A single cell is the 
first step in created life, and from the congeries of cells are de- 
veloped those various parts of the noble casket which constitute 
man and enclose his immortal spirit. 
To the Physician Physiology opens all its treasures: he sur- 
veys the bright red blood as it rushes through its pulsating tubes 
to repair the loss made by disintegration and decay ; he wit- 
nesses the combination of its oxygen with the carbon of the 
system as it makes its animal heat; he looks into the struc- 
ture of the eye, the telescope of the mind, and comprehends 
the cause of vision. 
To the Physician Chemistry opens its wondrous charms. It 
explains to him the affinities, the polarities, and the other forces 
in the operations of Nature. Forces are in action, each one 
working in its peculiar way, and all to a common end, to pro- 
duce the waters of the rivers and the seas; forces are in action 
to produce the beautiful flower from the dust of the earth and 
the constituents of the air ; forces are in action which bind all 
things in Nature together, so that the decaying leaf cannot fall 16 
from the tree without the most distant star feeling its in- 
fluence. 
The Physician must then to some extent be a man of science, 
and having once become her votary, it is most likely he will 
worship at her shrine with more and more enthusiasm. The 
human mind is so constituted that it is constantly in search of 
something unknown. One man may find pleasure in the walls 
of his library until his face grows pale and his head prema- 
turely gray, by burning the midnight lamp in poring over 
the labors of others ; another, in the open fields and the dense 
forests, in studying the great Book of Nature. But, wherever 
pursued, Science rewards her worshippers with joys that grosser 
minds cannot appreciate ; or else why should men seek the 
winters of an Arctic region, covered over with eternal snows, 
or the Torrid Zone, where the burning sun scorches up the 
very supports of life ? It is because there is a pleasure in 
arriving at causes before unknown. But alas! when we have 
accomplished so much, how little do we know ? In what science 
are we perfect ? The ignorant man thinks the learned man is 
wise. When he hears of the Astronomer weighing the Sun as 
if with a balance, measuring its surface as if with a chain and 
compass, he marvels. When he is told that the Palaeontologist 
can pick up a solitary bone that was deeply buried in the earth 
before man was created, and can describe the animal to which 
it belonged, he wonders. When he sees the Electrician with a 
little instrument and a wire make the whole earthly sphere a 
whispering gallery, he is delighted and overwhelmed. But the 
Philosopher who has travelled over the empires and kingdoms 
of science, weeps, not like the great Macedonian of old, that 
there are no more kingdoms to be conquered, but because in 
those where he has been he was permitted only to survey their 
gorgeous temples, but not to explore their innermost recesses. 
It is in the pursuit of knowledge which his love of the pro- 
fession engenders, that the Medical man finds one of his chief 
sources of enjoyment. The Book of Nature is constantly un- 
folded before him, and he peruses attentively its illuminated 
pages. He does not limit himself to the study of those who 
have written before him. He collects together facts from every 17 
source, whether it be the complex conformation of man, or 
the simple structure of a blade of grass; whether it be the 
union of two substances in the chemist's phial, or the compli- 
cated action of decomposition and combination in the animal 
economy ; whether it be the refreshing influences of the cool- 
ing zephyr as it fans the fevered brow, or the lethiferous actions 
of deadly gases. He observes all and reasons upon all. He 
does not discard reason, as it is the greatest gift of Deity to 
man-the gift which makes him proudly pre-eminent in the 
scale of creation. 
The eagle can soar far above the clouds and gaze upon the 
noonday sun ; the lion can roam through the forest in all the 
majesty of his power; the mighty leviathan can rush through 
the briny deep, striking terror to all the finny brood, by the 
means which God has provided for them. Armed they are for 
offence and defence ; protected they are from the wars and 
inclemencies of the elements. But man is born helpless and 
unprotected ; for a long period the cares of others sustain 
him. Without natural weapons, however, he is the lord of 
creation. The birds of the air, the beasts of the forest, the 
fish of the sea-all, all, are under contribution to him. Why 
is this ? It is because there has been infused into the mass of 
matter of which he is formed, a thinking, reasoning, immortal 
spirit, which elevates him beyond the mere material agencies 
which surround him, to those regions of thought which approx- 
imate him to Divinity itself. 
But great as is the pleasure in the exercise of reason, a 
greater is in the consciousness of our success. There is such 
a thing as the milk of human kindness. There is a soft spot 
in every man's heart. Nero, who fiddled whilst Rome was 
burning, gave money to rebuild Lugdunum, which had suffered 
from a fire ; whilst Bajazet indulged his passions in a boundless 
range of injustice and cruelty, he imposed on his soldiers the 
most rigid laws of modesty and abstinence. None are born so 
bad but that there is some lurking-place where affection can 
find a home. Now such affection increases the more we watch 
over and protect the one loved. The mother loves her sickly 
babe the more she keeps her midnight vigils over it. The care, 
the anxiety a Physician feels for his patient, begets the most 18 
affectionate friendship. Let this patient be the head of the 
family, who toils to afford the means to rear up his little chil- 
dren ; or the mother, who teaches them at night to lift up 
their hands in prayer, and beseech Divine Providence to en- 
lighten them in the ways of charity, benevolence and good 
will to all mankind ; or the little child, whose joyous laugh 
is now sadly missed, the Physician feels the responsibilities at- 
tached to him. He watches with anxiety the progress of the 
case ; his countenance is tinged with melancholy. Early in 
the morning he visits the house with mingled hopes and fears. 
At last the crisis is past; the hot and parched skin becomes 
cool and soft; the frequent pulse becomes slower; the eye once 
more is radiant with intellectual beams. It is then that the 
Physician feels his triumph. Not the triumph of a Caesar or 
an Alexander, of a Zinzis Khan or a Timour ; not the triumph 
of a Sheridan, a Curran, or a Mirabeau ; but the triumph of 
pride for the profession he honors-the triumph of love for 
those around him. 
The gratitude which follows such services is a bright oasis 
in the desert of a Physician's life. Friends are made who 
adhere to him through good report and evil report; and the 
consolations of friendship are productive of much happiness. 
They are like the sparklings of the fountain to the way-worn 
and thirsty traveller; they are like the outlines of his native 
land to the mariner returning home through tempestuous 
seas; they are like the sun-beams dispelling the misty damp- 
ness of early morn. 
Remember, gentlemen, in the profession you have chosen 
there are no honors of great magnitude to be obtained. A 
hero or an orator has his glory proclaimed throughout the 
land; but the medical man is known only in his locality, or to 
the medical public. 
Resolve to be thus known. It is said that on one occasion 
a little frail steamer was navigating one of the great lakes of 
the North, when suddenly a tempest arose, the winds howled, 
and the waves ran high ; the little bark plunged and creaked, 
and seemed at every plunge as if it would go to pieces, and all 
on board were pale from fear except the captain. Right ahead 
was a point of land jutting out into the waters; beyond that 19 
was a haven where safety was to be found. He called the en- 
gineer and told him to put on more steam, so as to pass the 
point in a few minutes, or else the vessel would go down. The 
latter replied that he had on all the steam the boilers would 
bear, and that the steam was hissing through the uplifted valve. 
In a moment the captain sprang and stood upon the valve, and 
down it was kept; the boat was hurried on; the point was 
gained, was passed, and the lives of all on board were saved by 
the daring of the commander. In the early part of your career, 
the sea of life on which you have embarked may be tempest- 
cast ; above you the dark clouds of adversity may have gather- 
ed thick and fast; the muttering thunder of calumny and 
detraction may be heard all around you; your little bark, on 
board of which are you and those who look to you for safety, 
seems about to give way; at every lurch the timbers seem to 
crack. Do not despair. Add on more steam; the point of 
safety is yet far away; put on still more ; jump on the valve. 
The point is now attained; the raging winds can no longer 
hurt you; the clouds now roll away; the blue vault of the 
heavens now appears, and you reach the place of destination ; 
the night of neglect and poverty has passed; the day of useful- 
ness and honor has arrived; the path of success lies broadly 
before you, with many a thorn in it, it is true, but strewed with 
the bright flowers of friendship, and fragrant with the perfume 
of gratitude.