more essential than to avoid a change of doctors. If you change about you are sure to lose faith in physic,- you cannot help it, for every doctor differs in opinion and in treatment: a thing which rather puzzles even sensible people—and would create distrust, but that diseases will get well in spite of every treatment. Many people roam about after doctors as they would after hatters, and this is especially the case in large towns and suburban districts. It is no uncommon thing to see two or more doctors attending at one house; it is a very common thing to see a fresh doctor for every fresh illness; and we occasionally see a separate doctor to each member of the family.

In every small town, and nearly every country village, there are from six to twelve medical men -yet we rarely hear of more than two, and these two have what is commonly termed the pick of the practice. This very delightful picking of patients' pockets, for I presume that is the real meaning of the term,—is not done by "the most dexterous professionals," by any means—for dexterity is not needed where the public voluntarily open their pockets for the especial practice of two men, and shut their eyes to their maladroitness.

These professionals owe their success to a variety of circumstances unconnected with their particular calling,-such as family connexion, local

interest, wealth, patronage, and so forth. These qualifications have to be set against the genuine qualification of the remaining practitioners — and this is most ingeniously done by changing the signification of the medical vocabulary and adapting its meaning to required circumstances. Thus:

Thus have these men greatness thrust upon them, and practice running after them; while men of talent sit at home with as bright a prospect of seeing the coming Millennium as coming practice!

We will now inquire what a doctor is; what he ought to be; what he does; and what he ought to do.

First, then, What is a doctor? That a doctor is a doctor, is as certain as that one and one make two. That a great many doctors might be taken for anything else is equally certain; and yet there is an indescribable something about them

as a class which is very typical, and which bespeaks their mission-a something which leads you to exclaim, "That is a doctor, I am sure!" Now what is this nature-stamp-this "distinguishing characteristic ?" Is it the doctor's dress? Certainly not: although that is peculiar, and very emblematic of his " grave calling." No. There is a something in the doctor's physiognomy which is most expressive—a mixture of prudence, caution, and reserve-mingled with doubt, and hope, and fear. It is not the frank countenance which is produced by freedom from anxiety.-Nor is it the careworn countenance which misfortune wears when softened down by sorrow. But it is a mixture of physical dulness and intellectual brightness—an expression wrought by a deeply-sunken die, stamped with a weight of injustice, disappointment, and neglect. It is the true reflection of the mind within

a mirror of the sentiments and feelingsperpetually jarring and contending with a sense of injury, ingratitude, and wrong.

To say that a doctor is an unimportant member of the community would be ridiculous. Το say that he is merely a useful member would be to say too little. To say that he occupies his proper place in society would be to tell an untruth. But whose fault is it that he does not

occupy the proud position for which he was destined? We shall, perhaps, be better able to judge when we have rambled through the scattered facts which I hope to place before you. And the first and greatest fact is, that doctors are of very humble origin, a circumstance of no small importance in this title-loving land. Moreover, they are generally poor-another circumstance of importance in the eyes of a nation which worships the golden calf; and the two combined will go far to account for his false position. Rarely do the sons of the gentry and the higher classes enter upon duties requiring so much self-denial, and so much devotion to the interests of others. But what is a doctor, aud what are his especial attributes?

By a French writer he is described as "un homme vetû de noir, mettant des drogues qu'il ne connait guère dans un corps qu'il ne connait pas;" which in English means "A man clothed in black, who puts drugs of which he knows little into a body of which he knows nothing." His especial attributes, according to Hufland, are "affability-gentleness-modesty — probity gravity—contempt of riches—a just appreciation of vital influences-absence of superstition-respect for the Divinity-contempt of death in the presence of duty-and sacrifice of life itself to

save another.

Courage, above all things, is essential to a medical man."

The doctor assumes a peculiar garb and peculiar manner-profound wisdom and great learning. He looks mysterious-employs technical words—and writes in illegible characters. He is particularly jealous and envious of his own order, and ever lives in enmity with it. "He approaches a patient with a cheerful air, which inspires confidence; or he steals upon him like an undertaker going to measure him for his last paletot." The science which the doctor professes is at once the most difficult and the most important. It requires great learning-patience – kindness-firmness - self-denial-self-sacrifice, and self-control; and yet it is openly practised by every blockhead in Christendom! There are very few who would not plead guilty to prescribing for an ailing friend-occasionally interfering with the doctor and his treatment; or even advising a friend to turn one doctor off and take another on, as if transacting business with a tailor instead of a member of that noble profession which the celebrated Hufland thus apostrophises: "God has made you priests of the sacred fire of life. He has committed to you the care of dispensing his most precious giftshealth and life. He has confided to you, for the