AN
INTRODUCTORY  LECTl'RF!,
             ON  THE
     necessity  .i.vn r.-fLun
              or


       diliyiisd ia  t«« c»»rn or

    Tn/nsylvati ia  University.
        November 7th,  ISM.


  BY DAMEL  DRAK!\  M  D
  Profeaor of Materi* Medics tnd Utd ■ .i Dotiny.

  PUBLISHED Br KEui'tST  OF THE t.L.i  .*


        LEXINV.TON, KV:
       William Tanner,  Printer-
              1823. 
*
                    Transylvania Univenity,       ?
                            .Xovem  cr 13th, 1823.   >
  Deab Sin—-The Medical Class, through  their Commit-
tee, the undersigned, beg leave to express their high esti-
mation of your  Introductory Lecture,-  and, that they  may
enjoy the benefit of the  good advice  which  it  contains,
solicit a copy of it for publication.
     Very Respectfully,
               JAMES  W. S. FRIERSON,}
               WILLJS  M  GREEN,       i- Committeet
               J jO. R  MOORE,          J
    Dawiej. Drakk, M  D.
i*rof. Mat. Med. and Med. Bot.
                    Transylvania University,       ~)
                             November Uth. 1823.  5
  GESTLEMry—The Introductory Lecture, a cf>py of which
the Class has solicited for publication, was hastily  drawn
up and intended only for the occasion on  which it was de-
livered  The ' election of it from among the polished speci-
mens of elocution with which it was associated.must be as-
cribed to a conviction on the pan of the class.that the Indus*
try  which it recommends is necessary to professional suc-
cess, and no other motive than the  desire to promote iha1:
object,  could induce me to  consent to its publication.
      Affectionately, your obedient servant,
                                    DAN. DRAKE,
Messrs.  Frierson, Green and Moore, 
tions, and what have '» en emphatically, but par-
idoxi. nlly,den^m nated "false facts.  Out of these
the plastic hand of genius  has from time to time
erected its splendid fro>t w.»rks, whidi have suc-
cessively melted   away,   before  the   ascend-
ing sun ofscienee.   Km- our systems of philo-
sophy to he duraMe, they must be  compos d  of
truths; and to be noble  in  their aspects,  those
truths must he arranged  at cording to the  rules
of philosophizing,  wbn. h, in physio, arc but an-
other expression for the principles of sound lo-
gic.   Gener ili/..i(i<tti>  ire ns< fill;'oil tonxorpcH
rate error with truth,is to perpetuate the one and
deteriorate the other.  Lt 11 uth  then he your
greatest ohject, for, in the eloquent numbers of a
poetical member of our profession—
                Truth and Good arc one.
   And Beauty dwells in them, and they in her,
   With like participation.
  Happily, gentlemen, the efforts necessary to
practise and to improve the profession, are I he
sam<-: the latter being effected by mean«- of the
former, and he who is the  greater practitioner,
may, caierisparibu  , always be the more success-
ful reformer.   I ?peak not of an  award of great-
ness made by popular favour,  which is frequent-
ly ui.merited; nor of the business whirh consists
•n an  excessive number of cases, too often  em 
 i £             flfTRODUCTORV

 birrassing the practitioner,  and exhausting his
 time and talents unprofitably  for the science; I
 speak of a greatness  resting upon  a  profound
 knowledge of the organization and  functions of
 the  living body,  an accurate understanding of
 the  causes which disturb those functions, and a
 minute  acquaintance  with  the  appearances
 which  denote such  disturbance;  a greatness
 which involves an enlightened practical skill—a
 deep and sagacious discrimination-in the choice
 of means for restoring  a healthy condition;  a
 greatness which impiies,and indeed result from,
 a commanding acquaintance with the cancns of
 inductive philosophy, united with  disciplined
habits of observation,  tireless  industry and  a
 conscientious sense  of   responsibility.   This is
 the greatness to which I allude,  and if there be
one among you, who is  dead to its attractions,
let him without delay relinquish  an undertaking
for which the Creator has neither prepared nor
destiued him.  To those,on the other hand, who
can place before their mind's eye such a model
of excellence, and feel inspired by the creations
of their own  imagination, I would say, do not
feel discouraged at the distance which m y seem
to exist between your present condition and that
to which you aspire: it is true that you can nev-
er reach the ideal object of your admiration, for 
^s you vise it v> ill ascend  before you.liko a Hea-
venly guide,  receding from the touch of mortal1.-
iy, hut alluring and conducting you to regions of
the  highest dignity and  eminence.   You must
be satisfied then with  an  approximation  to that
perfection, which  you  cannot attain:  aid you
can onlv approach it by  amending.  Hut every
ascent isattended »vilh labour and d'flicultv, a ad
industry is the only lever by which it can  be  ef-
fected.  I will con>idrr then, in detail, the rule
which should rcgul.ite the  u«e of this important
and infallible instrument of promotion.
   First, to be successful,' there mu<t be method
in your  industry.  Y•at  must apply  yourselves,
 in the beginning, to those branches  which con-
stitute the alphabet and grammar «;f t'ie profe .
 •aon: to the  truths that are simple and ob\i:.u.c,
 and may emphatically  he  said  to  constitute  it1
 fundamental  elements.   From  these  you may
 proceed to the more  complicated,  until  by a
 gradual and  easy transition, you come  at last to
compass the most exalted principles of scici.ee.
 For want of  this precaution i ha\e  known the
 industry of many a deserving student,  apparent-
 ly of i.o avail.  Having aimed ju.maturely at ft
 knowledge of the higher  branches  of the pro-
 fession, he has felt the embarrassment of miv who
might have sought to uuder;tand me movement* 
 of a complicated machine, without an acquain-
 tance with the mechanical powers  united  in its
 construction.   Such an one is often compelled
 to descend from his unmerited elevation—he is
 perpetually haunted  by a consciousness of im-
 perfection, and, when too late, experiences the
 truth of the apothegm, that the progress of the
 human mind must be from the  known to the un-
 known.
   Your application should be systematic in ano-
 ther respect.  Nothing can retard the  progress
 of an industrious student more than rapid trans-
 itions from one subject  to another.   Under the
 present organization of medical schools, this is
 unavoidable;  but I do not in this lecture treat of
 the deportment of students during  their univer-
 sity studies only, but their whole  pupilage.  It
 fs incompatible  with  the  law of the human
 mind, that sudden changes should carry us for-
 ward.  The association of ideas excited by one
 subject is different from that suggested by anoth-
 er, and when established cannot be instantly su-
 perseded.  But there are students, and I am
 sorry to believe that the number is not small, who
 are accustomed at all times to desultory reading,
 and never establish habits of unbroken and effi-
 cient attention.  They  might  be compared tc
the busy insects which roum from flower to fi^w 
er, tasting the sweets of all, but collecting the
 nectar of  none.   To such inconstant  spirits I
would say, that nothing is more indicative of fee-
ble intellect.   Patient and persevering implica-
tion  to  a particular object, is  equally the  evi-
dence of a strong mind, and the secret of its no-
blest  achievements.   Newton  himself ascribed
his amazing discoveries in Natural Philosophy to
habits of protracted meditation.
   Industry, to be cft\< ienl, must be real.   The
eye mav wander over the pages of an author for
hours, without a mental devotion of minute*.
 Physical and intellectual application are so dif.
fercnt that it  is possible  to devote much  time
to the business of reading, without either enrich-
 ing the memory, or strengthening the juderrn i;t.
Mental attention is a prerequisite toaJI improve-
ment, and  without it bodily application will be
inefficient and delusive.
   To be successful, industry must be unremitted.
It should not r. cur in paroxisms, for  u ith fitful
breezes the voyage i>  int-rr i;>!t <b  wh'.lc  under
the ceaseless I: aae-win 1 the vo-n 1 holds her way
in constancy to the destined port.   1  do  not in-
sist on close confinement, for that  would impair
vour health, and with it. the activity  of your in
tellcctual powers.   But  it may be saIVly affirm-
ed, that if students  of every (lass would dnrt/ 
  'he hours of upended study, to exercise in ih,
'  openrwr, a much greater number imtrl.l, with-
 out ".jary  to  the constitution, be emplovcd in
 profe.-.onilrcadingthan is usual.  What we call
 relaxation from books, in general produces ener-
 vation instead of strength.  It is the body  and
 *ot the mind that becomes fatigued  and restless
  m  these cases.  But when fatigue of body is
 Produced by the restraints and confinement of a
 studious life, it can afford no relief tovisit the
 heated apartments of a neighbouring class-mate,
 or Consume the hours of intermission, in idleness
 and pleasure.   The true counteracting  influ-
 ence to  the in nbideffect3 of intense study,  is
 acjivc exercise in the fields and wo,]*,  where
 nature,  with  lovely aspect, can  allure us from
 object to object,  imparling vigour  to the body
  ar.d it ;-rati ni to the soul.
   in the acquisition of rnclical knowledge, how-
 ever,  n? '.her pu; ils nor  physicians, should rely
 entirely upon  rceJiej, or even reading and ob-
  servation,  :e:l seek each others society.   We
  cannot apply our-elve- too intensely to the study
  nf any subject, hut may read  too much upon it,
  and therefore should diversify  our  mods of in-
  quiry and contemplation.  By the art of printing,
  iu its eff-cts the greatest id"all human inventions,
  the ir.jJ-.Tu student 1.;- been made iu some de 
  ..ree an insulated and  solitary being, w.mfoo
  often acquire' without digesting, po,>v**cs w.th-
  out  using, and  dies without  commun.cnt.ug
  knowledge.   The great  men ofnntitjuily InugM
  themselves, and each other by convcr, ilion; and
  the tissiu  of Peripatetic philosophy, which,  far
  2000 years spread like enchantment over the hu-
  man mind, was woven by the di«ciplc< of Plato,
  in the groves of the Lyra-urn.   !u tin* prefenion
 of Medicine, one  of the causes of the Miperiority
 of city over country student* nnd practitioner, ns
 the social and  scieutili: collision of the  former.
 The interrogating parties, literary clubs nnd so-
 cieties of emulation,  debate  nnd deliberation,
 which exist in cilice, open to their member*  new
 views  both theoretical and pi.nt.-al;  defecate
 their intellects, and preserve  in  their the ran
 ?icss of character,  which  is so seldom  retained,
 under a  protracted course of solitary rending.
 For the mind to be both opulent and executive,
 it must be sustained by a diversified regimen.
  As already intimated, I would not  enjoin  un-
<:e wng p!i\ -ical application.   1'nat upon * Inch
I in?i>:, i* mental; and this will be  successful,
in proportion as it  is continuous.  The pupil, «ho
dismisses  tht* subject of hi  researches with Uim
hook, that guided him, does not deserve the hon-
  rabU«pitbet  >fstudent.  When  b;  is fu'h'ued 
 with acquiring, he  should pass to rumination,
 and when that which has been  received is  ap-
propriated, he  will be  prepared to return to the
 fountain, in ceaseless and delightful alternation.
 This habit of unvaried application, in which the
 physical and moral powers are made,as it were,
 to relieve each other,is not so difficult to form as
 you might suppose.  Youth I admit is the stage
 of life, when our senses are most susceptible of
 the impress of surrounding object?, and when we
 are most liable to be led  astray by their seduc-
 tive influence.  Let the student, however, fill his
 senses with  the   appearances that  augment
 the volume of his intellect, and the laws of his
 physical organization will be satisfied, while his
 moral destinies will be fulfilled.   The first ef-
 forts to abstract himself from the giddy amuse-
 ments of the multitude, who are content to begin
 and end their career within the vortex of pleas-
 ure, may be difficult, and even  painful.  When
 the accustomed hour of idleness or innocent fol-
 ly returns, the desire to participate will recur}
 but if met by a palpable  resolution of defiance,
 the second will require less effort than the first,
 and each succeeding trial wi'" ^rove easier than
 the last; till with fewer perils fnan were encoun-
 tered in  reconciling his nerves to the poison  of
 U.'-nwov  ■.«?  -Mt o-.j-.C-irm Lis taste to the societv 
->f the mighty dead—w!»Use works rem/iin behind
them, like the trains of light which follow the
meteors of the firmament.   His reformation ia
now complete, and with  astonishment and de-
light, he finds himself elevated from  the bondage
of appetite and pleasure, to that of the Muses.
  The pupil  should learn  to apply himself  to
reacting in the midst of the professional business
and interruptions, to which the condition of his
pupilage may subject him.   The practitioner of
medicine  cannot select his hours of  study.  He
is the servant of the public, and has  come under
a voluntary obligation to obey their mandates.
When called  onto relieve the  sufferings of af-
flicted humanity, he  must  close his  book and
suspend his  researches,  however  interesting.
Having performed the service  required  by  hie
vocation,  he  may resume "his studies;  butmu^t
submit to  a second intcrruption,perhaps in a sin-
gle hour.   He is thus obliged to unite the func-
tions of student and practitioner, and alternately
to execute them without  premeditation or set-
tled order.   Now to prosecute studies in the
midst of the disturbing influences of professional
life, requires habits of a peculiar kind; and such
 of you as  do  not establish them during your pu-
 pilage, will, like too manyofyour predecessors,
terminate your studies when you begin your prac- 
  tice.   Labour then, to triumph  over the  cause*
  of interruption that will beset you daily, and not
  fly from them.  It is the glory of medicine, that
  while it is a practical art, the torch  of science
  should illuminate all  its  processes; and he who
 presumes to  dispense  its benefis,  must be a
  once a man of business and a scholar.
   It is important that the student should not mis-
 apply his industry.   As I have already s*id,seme
 sciences are essential, others but auxiliary, to the
 profession. The former are Anatomy,Institutes&
 Practice, Surgery, Obstetrics, Chemistry, Mate-
 ria Medica 8z Pharmacy.Among  the latter I may
 name Comparative Anatomy, General Physiology,
 Botany, Natural Philosophy, Zoology,  Mineralo-
 gy and Mental Philosophy;—with the funda-
 mental  principles  of which, every  physician
 should, if practicable*, be acquainted.   The
 student, however, must vigilantly guard against
 the allurements that dwell  in  these  beautiful
 departments of human knowledge- and which
like  the fascinations that  overcame   Telema-
chus,  may  divert  him from the  proper  ob-
jects of pursuit.   It is true  that the  study of
these sciences may enlarge  the  understanding,
augment the resources, and exalt the character
of a physician, but to do these, they must not be-
comje the principal objects of his attention. They 
 connect his profession with the general range of
 moral and physical existences; and give to him
 in reality and in aspect,  a decided  superiority:
 at last, however, they are  but the  ornaments of
 the column of professional learning; which,with-
 out a solid pedestal and  proportioned shaft, will
neither eatisfv  theeieof correct ta ta, nor  an
 swertheend- for  which it was  erected.  The
 most proper time for the  student to turn h'.s long-
 inn and inquisitive vision, upon the opulence of
these great departments of nature, i* after he has
acquired the elements of the profession.  When
he has entered upon hi«  duties, and before they
 have multiplied about him.  Then it is. that by
 the habits of efficient industry.which ia the object
of this discourse to recommend, he  will be able
to trace out the relations which exist  between
the essential an 1 contributory braa-hes of his
profession, an.l to fortify him- If in  the mid*', of
 a deep and extended philo«"»phy.
   Fin.«llv.the student of medicine should not on •
 ly 'read  bv day  and  meditate  by  nio/nt,'  but
 fir. d  till-  t»> culii'.ate  the faculty of onservn-
 iioa. bv  a well directed  evrri-e of his seizes.
 To  a  ph\sician  no quality  is mure important.
 The farts, collected at tl.e bed side of the sit!;.
 are  the prorr:i-e* from wnieh he is to reason, and
 on the .or.-, .'.ntss  of his concl-uions depend i«
91 
a great degree the safety of his patient.  It is o*
vital  importance,  then,  that  his  observations
should be well made, for conclusions true to na-
ture and useful in practice, can never flow from
false premises.   The most  distinguished phy-
sicians of every age, from Hippocrates  to the
existing gallaxy  of European and  American
practitioners, have surpassed their cotempora-
ries in the accuracy of their observations, rather
than in the depth and ingenuity of their reason-
ings.   And it may be safely affirmed, that  a fa-
culty for patient, acute, and enlightened obser-
vation, is more important in the practiceof med-
icine, than an exrursive  imagination or  uncom-
mon strength of understanding.   The student,
therefore, should vigilantly avail himself of all
opportunities tha* may offer, to augment and dis-
cipline this valuable power.  He  should  learn
to exert  it rapidly, and in the midst of  distrac-
ting circumstances, for it is there  that it will  be
required.   In the  progress  of  a  disease, the
changes are frequently sadden, and different ap-
pearances often succeed each other with  a ce-
lerity that must defy the powers of ignorant  or
 indolent observation.  It is in such situations,
and such only, that the man who  has trained his
senses and enriehed his mind,  who has added
practice t? theory,and experienre to rr-ading.ca.i 
be distinguished from the Illiterate herd who ob-
struct the walks,  and sometimes degrade the
character, of the profession.
  Gentlemen, if there be  any among you  who
suppose, that professional  success and respecta-
bility are attainable without industry, I  would
observe to them, that those who study the pro-
fession  as  a  branch of liberal  education  may
prosecute it with the leisure that  is agreea-
ble;  but to  the  rest, whether rich  or  pot r,  I
would say, you cannot make yourselves  excep-
tions to the general mle. An opulent inheritance,
will not enable a  young physician to cure the
sick, nor will it secure to him  the confidence  of
the community.   On  the contrary,  as  wealth
may be  made to provide ampler opportunities,
society  will  always expect,  from those who in-
herit  it, the most extended attainments; and, un-
less you  surpass those who have strugglcdinto pro-
fessional being,through the varking cares of pov-
erty' you are surpassed by  them,   h is one ot the
mo-( beautiful features, in the noble aspect of
\merican society,  that its  sympathies are inva-
riably bestowed on the youth who grapples with
adversity; and, that none  arc  so  much respect-
ed, as those who honestly emerge from obscurity
to distinction.
  There may be others among you, v.ho arc t!:« 
sons of medical gentlemen, and expecting to hs
the attention of their patrons, consider  it unne-
cessary to  labour, like those who must earn bu-
siness, before it can be enjoyed.   It  's m7 *lu ^
to warn them against  tins  delusion, as it may be
fat tl to their hopes. The  biographical archives
of the profession, in the United  States, furnish
but fr.w ex imples of sons succeeding to the prac-
tice of their fathers; for, happily, the sentiments
of our people are, in  general opposed to all he-
reditary entailments.   Moreover, if the father
be an inferior practitioner, he will  have  but
little  patronage, either io transfer or bequeath,
if such  interests  could indeed form a bequest;
and, if he be eminent, an ignorant  son,  would
picsent a contrast, equally disgraceful to  him-
self, and fatal to the  hopes of his family.   It is
as difficult to sustain  the  renown of our ances
 ters, as to earn glory for ourselves.
   Similar expectations may be created in oth-
ers by family connections; and, I feel it right to
protest against such a dependanre.  The influ-
ence  of family, when  exerted  most propitiously,
can extend no further, than to procure bus.nesr;
in the first instance—to retain it, the practition-
er must rely upon himself only.
   There  are others,  but I hope none of you,
gcr.tlemc:», will be found of  the  number  who 
St udy the arts of popularity more than the art  of
healing; and, divested of conscientious scruples,
rest satisfied with the acquisition of business,
without the ability to cveutc  it properly.  If a
young physician can add the arts of popularity
to profound and  practical  acquirements in the
profession, he accomplishes what I would com-
mend, rather than condemn.   Hut to rely upon
the former, would he both short-sighted and mifi-
chievaus.   Popularity and  reputation arc radi-
cally  different.   The  former  connects  itsell
with manners, the latter with attainments. One
lessens iu efficacy, .is we advance in age, the oth-
er, augmented by time, iri\ e~  fulness of honour
with fulness of years; and, like an amaranthine
 flower, blooms  bright when all beside  decays.
   Again, there may be  of your number, some,
who, po-sessini: retentive memories, consider hut.
little application necessary.   To such I would
sav in the unvarnished  language of good will,
that the memory may he disproportionate to the
understanding; aid that the former cannot suc-
 cessfully perform the functions of the latter, in
the practice of any profession.   To «tich  as pos-
sess this structure of mind,  much mental indus-
try should be reeommended.   It ought to be the
 aim et the student to learn how to cure diseac 
 es, not to answer questions in the language  oi
 his  teachers.   What he  receives  from them
 should be digested,  and appropriated  to the
 nourishment and  growth of- his  intellect; not
 stored up as it was infused, to be afterwards giv-
 en out unchanged—but this cannot be done with-
 out resolute and unwearied reflection, which is
 industry of the highest order.
   It  has, moreover,  been supposed, that what
 is vaguely denominated genius,  may be made
 a substitute  for industry.   It  would  require
 an entire lecture  to enveigh  sufficiently  a-
 gainst the evil  tendencies  of this  vulgar er-
 ror.   All men have the same faculties of mind,
 but  they differ widely  in  their comparative
 as well as their aggregate strength, in different
 persons.  Genius is not the name of any faculty,
but of a great though  indefinite degree of men-
 tal strength.  Now I  would  ask, how can the
 power of acquiring and arranging ideas, be made
a  substitute  for the  ideas  themselves?   They
must be excited by external occasions, and to ac-
quire them, application is as indispensable for a
genius as a dunce.   The difference of time in
which they would  learn  the  same  thing, it is
 true, may be very great,  but when objects com*
 mensv.rate txith their respective portions of  intellect 
are assigned to them, equal diligence becomes neces?
sary.   To him, then, who studies  closest, the
palm of merit is due; for rewards  should not be
connected with capacity,  which is  of Heaven,
but with diligence, which depends on ourselves.
It may be said, therefore, to be disgraceful  for
him, on whom the Creator has bestowed a great
portion of intellectual power, to be equalled by
one who has  been sparingly endowed. I would
ask the youth who is flushed with the conscious-
ness of superior abilities, for  what purpose he
supposes they were granted? Why the God of na-
ture has vouchsafed to him five  talents,  while
he gave his humble classmate but one?  A liUle
reflection, if he  possess the superiority of rnhi.!
which he claims, will enable  him to perceive,
 that results are  required from him.equal in their
 importance, to the dimensions and power of his
 greater intellect; and a little  observation will
 disclose to him a multitude of problems, corres-
 ponding in their dignitv  and difficulty, with the
 exalted endowments of which he vaunts.  It  is
 for the solution  of these  problems,  unfortunate-
 ly so numerous in our profession, that he wa^ cre-
 ated.   His should  be a career of unvaried ele-
 vation, and not to leave  the broad  and  beaten
 track by which the throDg of ordinary  moit^fa 
23
INTROOUCTORY
  descend into oblivion, is to pursue an ignoble*"
  course, than the meanestof that throng.
    The young man of genius  should recollect,
  moreover,  that fellow  students  of duller  intel-
  lect, are as likely to imitate his faults as his per-
  fections, and having seen as they supposed, that
  indolence accompanies genius, they will fear to
  be industrious, lest the absence of genius should
  be imputed to  them.  So they  will  relax in
  their endeavours; while the object of their im-
 itation, satisfied with a bare equality of attain-
 ment with those below him, and finding less vig-
 ilance necessary, will become more licentious in
 his idleness.   The two characters will thus re-
 ciprocally act upon and deteriorate each other,
  until the exalted  intellect  which might  have
 blessed society, becomes its  curse.   To  select
 objects corresponding to our abilities, and pros-
 ecute them  to final success, is but conforming to
 the ends for which we were created.
   Gentlemen, I have dwelt so long on the neces-
 sity for professional industry,  that but a  single
 moment remains to speak of its rew.irds.  These
 consist  of the  various pleasures  and profits of
 success.  The most humble of them is an immu-
 nity from the chagrin of disappointed hopes—a
negative condition it is  true, but to a mind of 
ardent  aspirations, capable of affording  actual
pleasure.  Then follow a train of positive grat-
ifications and benefits, embracing all that is de-
lightful to gOod taste ;respousive to the desire for
knowdedge; gratifying to ambition; available to
avarice, or satiating to the love of glory.
  If a provident temper of  mind make  you de-
sirous of guarding against the gloomv inhgnifi-
eance-thc sad and solitary nothingness of an ig-
norant old age; you  must aromplish it,  by in-
dustry in vouth; and such industry is peculiarly
appropriate  to  tin*  object,  since  in  our de-
clining  years, the knowledge acquired in ea.ly
life, is almost all that remains with us. The first
inscription* on the tablet of the mind are the ln>i
to be officed.  What a re>i>tless motive for ear
Jy diligence is suggested by this important lav
of human nature; and from its  frequent moLi
tion.h  u few, hi,  Nestor in  the Iliad, become- in
old age the 1:\ ing oracles of wisdom-to the rising
generation.
  > i "il 1 von carry within your breast a Samar-
itan heart,  and find   the act el 'doing  good to
other- a gi■ eit<T joy than comes to them,  In  in
diistry  \ou may be  said to  accu;re a foretaste.
of  t:.c  happiness of the bb-s-jj for.  Heaven
itself,  will  lock   up n  and  love you.   And, 
 on the other hand, should you  place your atfec-
 tions  on  the  things  of  this  world—within
 certain  limits, a necessary and useful  attach-
 ment—should you love money for  the indepen-
 dence and power of which it  is the  parent, or
 the comforts and luxuries it may purchase   you
 may realise the golden dreams of Alchymy, tor
 diligence is the true Philosopher's Stone.
   If a love of knowledge should prove to be your
 ruling passion, do not fear that much industry
 will either exhaust all  new objects of admira-
 tion, or blunt  your faculty  of enjoyment.   The
 former defies the  grasp of human intellect, and
 the latter cannot be cloyed. Nor need you stray
 beyond  the empire  of organised  beings; but
 should indeed  confine yourselves within  its  lim-
 its, ranging with freedom, but  still  returning to
 man, who like the sun in the midst of the solar
 system, is the central orb of living nature.
   Should you, however, delight  in  the glortu
 certamen—in the struggle of ambition—and pur-
 sue fame as an ultimate object, renown with its
long train of brilliant accompaniments,  will be
yours: or if nature has  given  you a relish for
praise, the sounds of popular applause, and the
sweeter accents of gratitude, breathed forth by
those  whom you have rescued from impending
death, will fall like soft music en your ear. 
you brighten under the fatigues of a long  dis-
aoutse; can she, whose acute and complicated
woes should awaken all your sympathies, while
her confiding and patient dispositions will com-
mand your respect—can the approbation of wo-
man touch your heart?—deserve it; and under
none of the troubles of future life, till death itself
shall come, will that heart sink  within you.
  My young friends, be not discouraged that I
have  disclosed  to your view  the  difficulties
which the candidate for the  honours and en-
joyments, of the profession must encounter,  tori
have  done it to stimulate you in the race.  En-
terprise delights not  in the path that is unem-
barrassed, courage is animated bv  danger,  and
genius disdains the achievement  that  involves
no peril—the road to  glory  is not devoid of
thorns, but they are the thorns which surround
the rose.