INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS TO THE NINTH ANNUAL COURSE OF LECTURES IN THE OF CINCINNATI, DELIVERED OCTOBER 7, 1868. E. B. Stevens, M. D. PROFESSOR OF MATERIA MEDICA AND THERAPEUTICS. PUBLISHED BY THE CLASS. CINCINNATI: A. ABRAHAM, JOB AND MERCANTILE PRINTER, 118 WEST THIRD STREET. 1 8 6 8. INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS TO THE NINTH ANNUAL COURSE OF LECTURES IN THE MIAMI MEDICAL COLLEGE, OF CINCINNATI, DELIVERED OCTOBER 7, 1868. pY p. j3. yVL p. PROFESSOR OF MATERIA MEDICA AND THERAPEUTICS. PUBLISHED BY THE CLASS. CINCINNATI: A. ABRAHAM, .JOB AND MERCANTILE PRINTER, 118 WEST THIRD STREET. 1 8 6 8. Correspondence. Miami Medical College, 1 Cincinnati, Ohio, October 26,1868. J Prof. Edward B. Stevens; Dear Sir—At a meeting of the class, A. W. Davis, of New Brunswick, presiding, and J. B. Eitchey, of Ohio, act- ing as Secretary, it was, on motion, Resolved, That a committee composed of one member of the class from each State represented, he appointed to solicit for publication a copj’’ of your Introductory Address, delivered at the opening exercises of the Session of 1868-’69. Yery respectfully, yours, J. B. Eitchey, Secretary. A. W. DAYIS, President. Henry Illoway, Ohio, T. M. Todd, Pennsylvania, W. H. Yan Dusen, Wis., S. A. Craig, W. Virginia, A. C. Foster, Kentucky, Fenton Young, Missouri. J. 11. Smith, Maryland, Albert H. Wilson, Minn., E. ,T. Oayens, Indiana, J. J. Cox, N. Carolina, J. 0. Steel, Illinois, Committee. Cincinnati, October 27.1868, 319 Elm Street, J Gentlemen: Your complimentary note of yesterday is received. The Address was prepared for the class, and is placed at their disposal. Please extend to your associates my sincere regards, and allow me this opportunity to express my anx- iety for their improvement, and my desire to aid them hy all possible means. For yourselves accept my best wishes, and believe me, Yery truly, your friend, EDWAED B. STEYENS. To Messrs. Illoway, Smith, Todd, and others. A D D R ESS, Ladies and Gentlemen— Gentlemen oe the Class: The long, hot summer days are past. Generous Earth has yielded her increase. The golden harvest has ripened, and been garnered. The abundant fruits of autumn are being gathered in store for winter’s supply. The glorious tiller of the soil has reaped a rich reward for the labors of the season, and is preparing to rest, for a time, from severe toil about the quiet of his hearthstone, and amid domestic enjoyments. These changing seasons bring to us somber days and smoky skies; all nature assumes the rich, mellow tints of autumn; the forest leaves have taken on their red and golden hues, as if making their last struggle for life, before relentless frost sweeps away their beauty forever. The seasons thus in their course, bringing a respite to the various severer physical toils of life, usher in the peculiarly fit time for the persistent and successful pursuits of the stu- dent. Thus, while nature seems to rest from her annual work, and the husbandman smokes his pipe and drinks his cider, and the delver in mines counts up the trophies of the year, the student gathers about him his books, and maps, and instruments; his retorts and crucibles, and test- tubes; his microscope and scalpel, and enters upon those quiet, patient investigations that mark the regular pro- gress of general science, as well as the personal accumu- lations of truths, in the special fields of human inquiry and knowledge. 6 Introductory Address. Students of to-night, you have come up to this great city to enter upon your winter’s campaign of this sort of patient professional work. You are getting ready for the toil and conquest of life. Here you will find books and instruments suited to the task before you. The various appliances which serve to facilitate your undertaking will he placed at your disposal. Our city is just completing the most magnificent hospital in the country, beautiful and imposing in structure, complete in its internal appointments; its wards will afford shelter and treatment for the sick in all the departments of practical medicine and surgery;- these will, in their turn, become for you means of instruction in your profession be- yond all computation. This College will also offer for you its own peculiar attractions. In its spacious lecture halls, through its ample museum and demonstrative resources, and with these my colleagues in hearty unison and conse- crated to the work of teaching, I am sure you will find here the complement of the Hospital Clinic, in the full College didactic. To all of these purposes, then, to these advantages, to this Queen City, to this Course of Instruction which we now inaugurate, gentlemen of the class, I give you welcome. To another gentleman, my honored friend, the Professor of Physiology and Pathology, was originally assigned this pleasant duty. But, although he has fairly earned a flattering- position in this city, he has seen fit to break up his domestic habits, break in upon his professional work and go abroad for a year, that he may add to the rich stores of personal and professional culture he already enjoys. Such earnest- ness of purpose should be for us at home, and for you of the class, a fresh incentive to strive for the completest pan- oply of the true physician. In his behalf, then, as well as in behalf of my colleagues here, I again extend to you our formal but sincere greetings. (In this connection it is, perhaps, right that I should take this occasion to say that which most of the class probably know, that ample and satisfactory arrangements are made Miami Medical College. 7 to supply the course of instruction usually given by Pro- fessor Taylor.) In accordance with established custom, I desire to occupy your attention with some practical considerations which seem to me adapted to this occasion, but with limited time for preparation, I shall content myself chiefly with some brief reflections of rather a catechetical nature. First of all, I wish to ask you, and I wish you to ask yourselves: First, Why do you devote yourselves to the profes- sion of medicine? Then, second, What systematic plans of study have you devisedf Third, and finally, What are the profes- sional purposes and. aims which you propose for yourselves? And, gentlemen, if you have not already, in considerable degree, satisfactorily determined for yourselves the solution of these questions, or if you are not now prepared to solve them by the severest internal examination of yourselves and all your individual attributes, I am frank to say to you that, in my judgment, you should not be here to-night as medical students. To die is a serious matter; to live is far more serious. And, yet, you have heard that trite old expression, “that one must live.” But a bluff old cynic, long ago, put his seal of denial to this supposed axiom, and I agree with him, that unless a man lives for the accomplishment of worthy and useful purposes, there is no special necessity for his living; and in this view of the matter, it really seems to me that the sooner a great many men could contrive to die the better. In determining the personal problem of life, however, many men associate certain vague notions of ease, prefer- ment, wealth and respectability, as pertaining to pursuits of a professional character, and such float into Jaw, theology, or medicine, partly by a sort of instinct, and partly by acci- dent. But whoever expects that his lines will happen to him in pleasant places, in any of these respects, as a' nat- ural result of entering upon the profession of medicine will very probably awake, when life is rapidly passing, to the sad reality of his mistake. All successful professional life is a 8 Introductory Address. season of very earnest, exacting toil; this is peculiarly true of our profession, because the physician knows no interval of rest that he can call his own, or appropriate to relaxation. All hours of day or night—the parlor, sleep, devotion—are liable at any moment to be invaded by the inexorable de- mand of the sick man. I shall speak, by and by, of dis- tinctions worthy your highest ambition, but let me frankly assure you that medicine is most certainly no royal road to distinctions or preferments of a worldly character; and, as to the pecuniary rewards, let me tell you that the man who digs the sewers of your city is better paid than his Doctor, if you fairly estimate all the time, labor, expense and brains that is requisite for his education and training, and his years of painful, patient waiting. Many physicians make a respectable living, a few accu- mulate property and become wealthy, while statistics tell us that in the entire great State of Ohio, the average cash income of its physicians is less than $l,OOO per annum; of the more than two hundred physicians in Cincinnati, not one-half live by their professional income, and the same is largely true of every city and village you will visit. The natural inference would seem to be that medicine, as with all the professions, is overcrowded; this is certainly true if you regard the question numerically. But for your encouragement, I do not hesitate to say that of true, culti- vated, thoroughly educated physicians, the supply is very limited. I think it is well that you, young gentlemen, just entering upon the study of medicine, should know these facts, that you may profit by the various suggestions that spring from them. The truth is, God never intended men should live lives of ease. This is emphatically a working world; men in it are not distinguished by the pursuit they adopt; the profession does not bring honor to a man, but the man becomes him- self wmrthy or worthless as he performs the duties of life, thus bringing honor to his calling. Carlyle was very near correct, when he said, long ago, that a man’s religion is the chief fact with regard to him. Miami Medical College. 9 And by religion he did not, then, have reference so much to the church creed a man possesses, the articles of faith which he will sign, but the thing a man does practically believe, the thing a man does practically lay to heart, and know for certain concerning his vital relations to this mysterious universe, and his duty and destiny there; that is in all cases the primary thing for him, and creatively determines all the rest. That is his religion. The manner in which he feels himself to bo spiritually related to the unseen world, and if you tell me what that is, you tell me, to a very great extent, what the man is, what kind of thing she"will do. ]STow, when a man makes choice of medicine, as the pur- suit of his life, he should have reference in a very consider- able degree to this sort of personal religion, he should have very special reference to this idea of his spiritual relation to this universe, of which he is a part. In a word, this whole thing of life is too earnest a business to be trifled and frittered away. I trust, then, that you will disabuse yourselves of those fancied material attractions, which are supposed to cluster about medicine as a profession ; tossing these overboard, you are the better prepared to ajipreeiate its real attributes and examine yourselves with reference to your true fitness for a calling so honorable and exalted, that to our Blessed Saviour even we do not hesitate to appropriate the title of the Great Physician. There are abundant reasons why a man should receive hire for his labor, and upon all proper occasions he should insist upon a fair and prompt condensation for service, bo that medical or otherwise. But there are other and higher motives in life than the pecuniary consideration, and he has a sad and impoverished ambition whose chief aim is th accumulation of worldly pelf. If a man has a taste to study the laws of life—the mys- terious mechanism of himself—all those influences and agencies which repair wasting life, and restore its failing powers. If with a big heart he can take in humanity and enjoy the sweet pleasure of working for its good, for its 10 Introductory Address. culture, for its elevation. If lie have the will to toil in such a grand field of usefulness as this, answering the calls of the afflicted, seeking out the distressed, visiting the haunts of disease, amid vice and wretchedness, and pollution, as promptly as in the homes of elegance and wealth, then the profession of medicine holds out an inviting hand, and points to fields of worthy toil and objects of the noblest ambition. And he wdio diligently and patiently labors herein, though he may not, and very probably will not, amass wealth or reach civic honors, yet will he almost cer- tainly command the esteem of his fellow-men, the gratitude of many a creature whose suffering has been relieved by his art and skill, and enough of the metallic consideration t!to keep the wolf from the door” and send the boys to college. Now, gentlemen, if you have selected medicine as your calling in life, influenced by considerations, and attracted by motives such as I have just presented to you; and if you are willing to devote yourselves with earnestness to your preparation, and with patient faith to your work, then I repeat to you my welcome, and assure you that we shall make every effort to aid you in your studies, and guide you in the path that promises success. Second. Having carefully estimated the character of the medical calling, its attractions for you, and your adaptation to it, I next ask you, What plans you have matured to jit you for the exercise of your vocation ? Our country is fast filling up with a vast, teeming, culti- vated population; the demand is for earnest, energetic men in all the relations of life, and the time is rapidly passing when physicians of limited acquirements will be accepted. First of all, then, you must determine to he thorough, and you will succeed in this very much as you conduct your course of study; you must have a system about that and rigidly carry it out. Nobody need expect to stumble into a knowledge of the science and art of medicine with all its train of research 1 You must be complete and thorough, then, if you desire success, and this is not a matter accom- Miami Medical College. 11 plished at once; step by step we accumulate knowledge, but let every step be made on firm ground, so that it need not be taken again. Sir T. F. Buxton said bis maxims were, “Never to begin a book without finishing it, never to consider it finished without knowing it, and to study with the whole mind.” I commend these maxims to you as most useful and excel- lent rules for the study of medicine. It is presumed for the most part that each medical student places himself under the care of a private preceptor; most of you have already done, so, and there are some manifest advantages in this feature of a medical education, found in the daily association with an experienced and skillful phy- sician for the usual period of pupilage; not only his society, influence and conversation may be made valuable, but the routine of office—the examination of patients-—if in the country, the familiarity'with drugs and the preparation of prescriptions. But of necessity the laborious life of a coun- try physician breaks in upon all regular habits of study, and it is rare that the student receives any systematic guid- ance or drill; I, therefore, give it as my judgment, that the best course for the student to pursue, in this respect, is to select his medical school, and make it from the beginning and throughout his preceptor. I am aware of the serious inconvenience this would cause to many, but the advantage of regular, systematic drilling, daily observation of hospital practice the year round, more frequent and thorough devo- tion to practical anatomy, together with the usual didactic instruction of winter and summer, can not well bo estimated. To lounge about the office of some worthy Doctor, visit the city during some part of two winters, coming late, and finding a pretext to depart early in the session; this is the other way, but can scarce be styled study. In regard to the time that should be devoted to the study of your profession, I have but a few words to give you; the requirements of American Colleges exact three years of study, lecture terms being included, the student, strangely enough, is prone to fancy this a severe extension of time, Introductory Address. and exhibits great anxiety to abridge it, while the matured physician knows that very few men are even safe to enter upon the practice at an earlier period, so that the proposi- tion of American teachers now is to lengthen the pupilage to four years. The truth is, very few persons who really enter upon the study of medicine with a hearty apprecia- tion of its vastness and varied elements, will need to be hampered with any requirements of time. Except for the work to be done, it passes all too swiftly away. To master an accurate familiarity with the elements of our profession, and a respectable familiarity with, the practical features of disease and its treatment, in a time less than three years is simply impossible. That you may understand how this matter is regarded abroad, let me, without, however, ex- pressing a desire for the introduction of the system here, give, in brief, the curriculum of Stockholm University, Sweden: “After two years of genei’al education in the University, the candidate for medical studies must submit to a prelim- inary examination in Latin, Mathematics, Chemistry, Botany and Geology. He’then performs dissections for two years, and works at practical chemistry for six or twelve months, at the same time attending hospital practice at Stockholm for six months, voluntary attendance at the Military Hos- pital, followed by four months’ practice at the Hospital of Upsala. At the end of the four years thus occupied comes the first medical examination in Anatomy, Chemistry (in- cluding analysis of bile and other secretions), Pathological Anatomy, Diagnosis of Disease, Surgery and Midwifery. “Then follows hospital practice at Upsala or Lena, and at Stockholm, the student being occupied from eight A. M. till three P. M. in case taking, making post-mortem examinations and writing descriptions of post-mortem appearances. Twice a week, for two hours at a time, the student works in the laboratory at the chemistry of morbid secretions. Then attendance at the Hospital for Sick Children for four months, four times a week. At the same time the student attends midwifery for four months in a hospital of forty beds. Then Miami Medical College. 13 follows the study of Syphilitic Diseases for two months; Insanity two months; Legal Medicine and Legal Protocols two months, and Practical Pharmacy. “All the preceding courses are necessary for the license to practice. But to become an M. D. a candidate must ho house surgeon one year, and study abroad one year.” I may add that in England, France and Germany, while the course of study does not precisely correspond to the curriculum I have just read, the requirements are not essen- tially different. Many students seem to regard particular departments of the profession as of but little importance to their peculiar purposes. One eschews surgery, for example, and therefore slights his anatomy; others fancy chemistry will not be of importance in their practical routine; various other special branches he fancies will scarce ever come within his quiet and modest domain, or if so that he will send them to some city practitioner of note. But let me tell you, no man is fit to practice at all who has so contracted an ambition, and with such expectations he rarely practices to any extent, and is of those who are ready to abandon their profession for some more lucrative or agreeable calling, forever wondering at their failures, and stupidly overlooking the fact that men to succeed must be prepared for success. But it is wonderful, indeed, how completely interwoven is every department of our science, and how one illumines the other. A surgeon of this College was recently called to a distant point to operate on a peculiar diseased bone. Upon his relating the features of the case, I remarked, “that certain special con- ditions of the system must surely underlie this trouble.” “Oh! yes,” he replied, “that was not suspected, but I so inferred, and ingenius interrogatories unraveled the whole mystery.” And thus it is that the physician of narrow ideas and limited resources is continually baffled in his cases, while his cultivated neighbor sees in these very ob- scurities certain familiar expressions that afford him the key to their exact pathology. At this point, gentlemen of the class, it might, perhaps, Introductory Address. be quite as fit for me to close with a God speed you, and an exhortation to fidelity in your labor, leaving to some friend, at the close of your study, the task of gazing into the fu- ture, and seeking the elements of that success in life toward which we strive, and for which we have so many hopes and heartaches. Yet it seems to me that I shall not fill up the measure of my duty—certainly not ray plan—unless I put to you that third query announced in my opening remarks. Third. What purposes have you determined—what are the aims of your professional life? I know that we can not absolutely fix our future. Un- foreseen events will suddenly arise to fix our destiny and change the dearest plans of a lifetime. But it is equally true that we can not blunder into fortune, or stumble into success. 1 know it is said of some that whatever they touch turns, Midas-like, to gold. And, now and then, it would seem that “the fickle goddess, Forune,” favors particular individuals to a wonderful degree. Still, I should be glad if 1 could impress upon every young gentleman starting in professional life, the stern maxim, that there is no such thing as luck in the affairs of this world. There is no more luck in the success of the physician than there is in the results of the farmer’s tillage; no more, no less. It is a matter of calculation, time and proper attention to the duties of each day, in its order. I will presume that you have planned maturely to fit yourself for your calling, after some of the suggestions you have already received, and having selected a place for work, let me say to you, indentify yourself with your community, become a part of it, in its plans and its necessities. The saddest thing in the story of any man is, that he lived, car- ing for none of the prominent objects of society, loving none of its public enterprises, or its people, dying, of course, regretted by none, speedily forgotten by all. The impress of Dr. Drake is made upon all the most im- portant enterprises of this city. To be sure, many of his undertakings looked to self-aggrandizement, still they, at the same time, pertained to the material prosperity of the Miamical Medi College. 15 city. There was no medical college, his energy and genins and personal influence established one; dissentions, bicker- ings and discontent came in as a flood, and he labored to supply what he thought a failure by another school. A hospital was needed, and he exerted the same spirit of cre- ation, and the magnificent structure, whose beauty and completeness is become the pride of our city, is the final crown of glory to that labor of love nearly half a century ago. But not alone in mere medical matters, was he found an earnest citizen. He was one of the first and most far- sighted of our railroad men. He was one of the earliest advocates of the temperance reform; one of the earliest laborers in our forming system of Common Schools. So, that while Drake was the property of the whole profession of this great interior valley, and his thoughts and feelings were common property, yet his heart’s warmest affections were intimately intertwined with the growth, progress and institutions of this, his adopted city. Then, too, strive to avoid a restless, wandering spirit; I do not believe there is so much choice in a location as some suppose. Select a territory where there is work, where you will be contented to live, where you will find such people as you can respect and love, and settle down for your life work. Some of the most brilliant physicians of this coun- try have only made half a success in life, because, in a spirit of restlessness and impatience, they allowed various tempt- ations to attract them to new fields of enterprise. This was true, to some extent, of Drake with all his greatness. It was true of Eberle; it was eminently true of Lawson. Neither Drake or Lawson should ever, for any considera- tion, have left this city. Eberle should never have aban- doned Philadelphia. All of us, no matter how fortunate in life, will look back to our sad and damaging mistakes; but still the map of our journey may be drawn, and its chart followed with wonder- ful accuracy if we will. As a model in our profession, lot me commend you to study the life of Dr. Charles Frick, who died in the city of 16 Introductory Address. Baltimore only a few years ago. It is interesting to me for its worth, for its systematized plan, for its steady progress toward that measure of success in life to which we may all honorably aspire; and, for me, there is a pleasant sympathy in the fact that we were born almost upon the same day, and a sad sympathy in the events of his early and untimely death. Having employed the usual means of reaching a thorough knowledge and fitness in his profession, he embarked in its practice, But this became for him no season of ''holiday, and we find him at this stage entering at once and with zeal upon those pursuits which serve to develop and mature a man’s capacity and resources. Thus, in those early days, when patients came slowly, the long hours were divested of their weariness by an earnest study of hospital cases, and their minute physical diagnosis. Other times he found the dead-house and the revelations of post-mortem lesions pleas- ant and profitable labor. Then we find him employing some of those early hours of his professional life in prepar- ing careful reports of observations in practice for the med- ical journals. A year or two later he organizes a Prepara- tory School of Medicine, which afforded a new and pleasant variety to his work, and very soon developed his talent for teaching; so that subsequently he ripened into one of the most acceptable teachers of his city. Still restless we note his analyses of the blood in disease, which have been ac- cepted as of standard authority. Continued studies in an- alytical chemistry; essays on renal diseases; oxaluria; the diuretic properties of various drugs, with extended experi- ments. All these exhibit the patient, systematic character of his studies, and rapidly ripened his ability and reputa- tion as a successful practitioner. Hot only did this sort of work tell on his home position, but when at the end of ten years of professional life he visited Europe, he was greeted most cordially as a brother pathologist by such men as Paget, Todd and Trousseau. And then, too, what an eye he had for the beautiful, especially bearing upon his studies. Thus he says, in his Continental tour, “I have never seen Miami Medical College. 17 anything so beautiful as the Alpine Flora, on every hand quantities of aconite with its tall spike of blue hoods, the delicate carapanella with its bell-shaped cup, and the modest blue gentian skirting the G-laciers.” Thus briefly I call your attention to this successful prac- titioner, graceful teacher, learned pathologist, as an illus- tration of what I tell you, that there is no such thing as luck in the practice of medicine; it is a matter of calculation and earnest work. Dr. Frick made himself worthy of pub- lic confidence and professional regard, and he speedily re- ceived them. It is lamentable to add, that on the 20th of March, 1860, while so steadily pressing forward to honor and usefulness, he operated for tracheotomy in a case of diphtheria, received some of the diphtheritic poison in his system, and on the fifth day afterward his pure and noble spirit fled from earth to the Creator. Dr. John D. God man has often been presented as afford- ing a like illustration. I allude to him chiefly for his emi- nent and correct character, but partly in remembrance that he was for a short period a resident of this city, the editor of probably our first medical journal, and one of the first Professors of Surgery in the Medical College of Ohio. Like Frick (and hailing from the same city of Baltimore), God- man realized that “life was short and art long,” and ho went to work with a will as soon as he had received his de- gree. Frick’s studies tended rather to pathology and med- ical chemistry. Godmau cultivated anatomy, and became one of the most brilliant teachers of that department of science our country has ever known. He wrote for the journals and became an accomplished editor. Phthisis in- sidiously developed itself; yet, while confined to his last sick room, ho wrote for one of the periodicals of that time a series of most beautiful papers, known as the “Hambies of a Naturalist.” At the eai-ly age of thirty-six, “he com- mended his family to the Father of Mercies, and calmly resigned himself into the hands of the Savior, whom lie trusted.” 18 Introductory Address. He has been styled one ot the brightest stars which have as yet risen above the horizon of our profession, but, like the lamented Frick, ho, too, fell from our firmament before ho had as yet reached his meridian splendor. Before I conclude, I should be sadly derelict to feeling, as well as propriety, if I did not embrace this occasion to bring a feeble but sincere and grateful tribute of affection to the memory of one who was so recently of us—so recently gone from us. What a frankness and freshness; what pleasant, manly beauty; what a cheery personal magnetism—all gave char- acter and attractions to him, when first I came, twenty years ago, to listen to the teachings of Jesse Parker Judkins. In his later days he may not have exhibited the same in- clination to the toils of professional life, but then he was ambitious, and spared no study, observation or labor that led to the accomplishment of his aspirations. He worked up, too, in the same rugged path that we all have to follow; a young city physician, he cared for the poor, and in his prime, and up to the end of his career, he was ever the kind friend of the needy. Steadily he made his ascent. He had the qualities of head and heart that attracted about him hosts of friends. As an anatomist, Hr. Jesse Judkins had few, if any, superiors. He was an expert operating surgeon, and had he elected to devote himself to that department of our profession, he would have attained an eminent success. His presence and manner inspired confidence in the sick room to a wonderful degree. He was modest, dignified, courteous in his bearing, and by his kindness of heart and the charm of his. social qualities, he endeared himself to all with whom he had any relations. “Noneknew him but to love, None named him hut to praise.” He was in the highest sense a gentleman, and stood forth a noble representative of that chivalric manhood which no time, place or circumstances can conceal or cause to be for- gotten among his professional brethren. I especially com- Miami Medical College. 19 mend to your study and imitation that largeness of heart and loyalty in friendship that grappled them to him as with hooks of steel. For me, there was a threefold bond of af- fection for Dr. Judkins—preceptor, friend and colleague. He guided some of my earliest studies. He was my gener- ous and advantageous friend in the earlier days of my pro- fessional life, and he was one of the ardent founders of this school of medicine. He was warmly devoted to the enter- prise, and, alone, excepting the venerated Mussey, lending to it, perhaps, more of individual character and reputation than any other member of the Faculty. He continued his anxiety for its success and perpetuity with his latest days. On the 6th day of last December, after a lingering illness, this beloved friend went from us—we are permitted to be- lieve—to join the throng of the good in a better and happier world. With sad hearts, many of those now present looked upon his face for the last of earth, and sadly followed him to the tomb. Let us earnestly and honestly forget his in- firmities, imitate his virtues, and treasure up in our hearts his love. Peace and honor to the memory of Dr, Jesse Parker Judkins. In the suggestions which I have thought fit to make, for your instruction and guidance, I have studiously avoided all allusions to irregular medicine and its votaries. I com- mend you to follow through life the example which I thus give you. The complete study and practice of your pro- fession will give you little time to waste upon what are styled quacks or quackery. Steadily, as our country is filling up with intelligent, cul- tivated people, the line is being distinctly drawn between science and pretense. Let us so employ the talent God has bestowed upon us, and the days he kindly lengthens out to us, that there shall be no mistake as to where we belong, or our individual fitness for our calling. And in my remarks at this time it has simply been ray wish to present our profession to you in its just character. And, while I have desired to disabuse you of visionary hopes and notions, I am. at the same time, ready to say to Introductory Address. you that, in ray opinion, no calling in life is more honora- ble; none presents to you a wider field of usefulness; no human pursuit requires so entire and enlarged a personal culture. So that, with a wise estimate of yourselves and your relations to life, you enter upon a profession affording the noblest incentives to earnestness and patience; a pro- fession, after all, though not presenting the gross ends, yet affording the most attractive of earthly rewards. No man is justified in determining his choice of medicine, as a pro- fession, except upon the satisfactory settlement of the in- terrogations I have presented to you; but having made the choice, let it he for life. Cast no look backward. Give your best affections, thought, energy, enthusiasm to this art, and it will then become for you truly sacred and divine. You have read that “ There were giants is those days.” I have alluded to some of those, who, by toil and brains, have reached such title. These famous men have, one by one, been passing away. Some of us have sat as Pauls at the feet of these learned Gamaliels, and treasured up their teachings as inspirations. These colleagues who surround me, have lived in the warmth of their presence, have en- deavored humbly to tread in their fotsteps, and to emulate their example. Standing thus, as the mature men of to- day, the link binding the glorious past, with a more glori- ous future, we stand ready to deliver into your younger hands the flaming torch of medical knowledge which we received from them, that you may, in your turn, keep its luster ever bright, its pure flame ever unsullied, and thus transmit the sacred deposit to coming generations.