minute, never stopping, so long as the machine is in working order. He has also been compared to a steamship, a chemical laboratory, a distillery, a forcing-pump, a grist-mill, a furnace, an electric telegraph.

Man has the power of imitating almost every motion but that of flight. To effect these he has, in maturity and health, 60 bones in his head, 60 in his thighs and legs, 62 in his arms and hands, and 67 in the trunk. He has also 434 muscles. His heart makes 64 pulsations in a minute. There are also three complete circulations of the blood, in the short space of an hour.

Old Francis Quarles furnishes the moral estimate :

Why, what is man? a quickened lump of earth,

A feast for worms, a bubble full of breath,
A looking-glass for grief, a flash, a minute,
A painted tomb with putrefaction in it,
A map of death, a burden of a song,
A winter's dust, a worm of five feet long.
Begot in sin, in darkness nourished, born
In sorrow; naked, shiftless, and forlorn.
His first voice heard, is crying for relief,
Alas! he comes into a world of grief;
His age is sinful, and his youth is vain,
His life's a punishment, his death's a pain.
His life's an hour of joy, a world of sorrow,
His death's a winter night that finds no morrow.
Man's life's an hour-glass, which being run,
Concludes that hour of joy, and so is done."

In closing our desultory observations on "the fallacies of the faculty," we refer to the testimony of sundry members of the profession, for determining the amount of good or evil of which they are the occasion.

Dr. Akenside, himself a physician, has said, "Physicians, in despair of making medicine a science, have agreed to convert it into a trade." Sir Anthony Carlisle said, "that medicine was an art founded in conjecture and improved by murder;

that he never could discover any rational principle in a physician's treatment of a case, and that, therefore, it was all guesswork." The late Professor Gregory used often to declare, in his class-room, "that ninety-nine out of one hundred medical facts were so many medical lies; and that medical doctrines were, for the most part, little better than stark, staring nonsense."

Assuredly the uncertain and most unsatisfactory art that we call medical science, is no science at all, but a jumble of inconsistent opinions, of conclusions hastily and often incorrectly drawn, of facts misunderstood or perverted, of comparisons. without analogy, of hypotheses without reason, and of theories not only useless but dangerous.”* The late Dr. Hooper remarks in his writings, "Medicine is now defined the art of preventing and treating diseases, but formerly it was called the art of preserving health and curing diseases. The word cure is not used at present, because we possess no remedy capable of effecting an immediate cure. There is a great difference between treatment and cure, as many diseases are incurable, but are still proper subjects for treatment." It has often been objected to the physician or practitioner that he is unable satisfactorily to explain the performance of a single function, the phenomena of a single disease, or the operation of a single remedy. However humiliating the admission of such a truth may be, it cannot wholly be denied. But fully to account for the performance of one function would be nearly paramount to the explanation of all, for all are governed by the same general laws, and subject to the same general causes. Dr. James Johnson, of London, has left upon record the following extraordinary admission: "I declare as my conscientious opinion, founded on long experience and reflection, that if there was not a single physician, surgeon, apothecary, chemist. druggist, nor drug on the face of the earth, there would be less sickness and less mortality than now prevail." We are

* Dublin Medical Journal.

.

told by the ingenious John Brown that he "wasted more than twenty years in learning, teaching, and diligently scrutinizing every part of medicine." The first five passed away in hearing others, studying what he had heard, implicitly believing it, and entering upon the possession as a rich and valuable inheritance. His mode of employment the next five years was to explain more clearly the several particulars, to refine and give them a nicer polish. During the next equal space of time, because no part of it had succeeded to his mind, he became cold upon the subject, and, with many eminent men, even with the vulgar themselves, began to deplore the healing art as altogether uncertain and incomprehensible. Majendie, whose opinion is considered of much weight in Paris, says, "Consider for a moment the state in which medicine exists in the present day. Visit the different hospitals, and you will not fail to observe how physicians are divided between the most opposite systems, on the nature, on the seat, and even on the treatment of the most simple disease; yet each of those systems is supported by arguments more or less specious: each theory is based upon facts more or less certain." 21%

In coming to a conclusion, therefore, we ask to what cause shall we attribute the past, and even the present anomalous condition of medical science, if not to the inefficiency of its practitioners. Dr. John W. Francis, of New York, furnishes, in part, the solution of the enigma. We quote from an address, delivered by him not long since. It is a noble tribute to the profession.

"That ignorance of the laws of life, of the rules of health, and of the remedial powers of medicinal substances, prevails to a wonderful degree, even in exalted places, is an incontrovertible position; and hence the innumerable calamities which popular delusion in the curative art entails. Most unfortunate for its victims, like fraud in fiscal concerns, it has a wider influence in its effects than with the immediate objects with

* Penney's Organs of Life.

whom it traffics. Its dire malignity is often extended through a large circle of the unconscious and unsuspecting.

And, on the other hand, there are instances of noble and touching fortitude, of sublime patience, and of heavenly faith, which every medical man that deserves the name must treasure as among the richest lessons of his life. Who that has kept vigils at the couch of Genius, and marked the wayward flickerings of its sacred fire, made yet more ethereal by disease, or seen beauty grow almost supernatural in the embrace of pain, has not felt his mission to be holy as well as responsible? And when a voice that has thrilled millions is hushed, or a mind upon which rests the cares of a nation is prostrated, who has not realized how intimately the healing art is knit into the vast and complex web of human society? Let not that be thought a light office which summons us to minister, as apostles of science, to the greatest exigencies of life; to cheer the soul under the acute sufferings of maternity, and alleviate the decay of nature; to watch over the glimmering dawn and the fading twilight of existence; to stand beside the mother, whose sobs are hushed that the departure of her first-born may be undisturbed; and be oracles at the bedside of the reverend minister of holy truth, the halo of whose piety softens, on his brow, the lines of mortal agony. What a mastery of self ! What requisites, mental and corporeal, are demanded in him who is the observer of scenes like these, whose sympathies are awakened to services such as are befitting the mighty crisis, and whose talents are efficiently enlisted for the triumphant accomplishment of his devout trust! The advent of such an ambassador, when his calling is duly understood, must awaken the heart to its profoundest depths, and cannot be inoperative upon minds of intellectual and moral culture."

It seems to be usually less a matter of ambition with medical students to obtain a thorough induction into the theory and practice of their art, than to secure the distinction of too frequently an undeserved diploma, and the coveted monogram

of M. D. attached to their names, as a passport to practice upon poor old women and children, who pay the forfeiture of life for their inexcusable folly and cupidity.

Prof. Carnochan thus sums up the whole subject: If we examine the life of the practising physician, we find it gilded and shining on the surface; but beneath the spangles, how much pain and hardship! The practising physician is one of the martyrs of modern society: he drinks the cup of bitterness, and empties it to the dregs. He is under the weight of an immense responsibility, and his reward is but too often injustice and ingratitude. His trials begin at the very gates. of his career. He spends his youthful years in the exhausting investigation of Anatomy; he breathes the air of putrefaction, and is daily exposed to all the perils of contagion. View him in the practice of his difficult art, which he has acquired at the risk of his life! He saves or cures his patient; it is the result of chance, or else it is alleged that it is nature, and nature alone, that cures disease, and that the physician is only useful for form's sake. Then, consider the mortifications he has to undergo, when he sees unblushing ignorance win the success. which is denied to his learning and talents, and you will acknowledge that the trials of the physician are not surpassed in any other business of life. There is another evil the honorable physician has to contend with--a hideous and devouring evil, commenced by the world, sustained by the world, and seemingly for evermore destined to be an infliction upon humanity. This evil is Quackery, which takes advantage of that deplorable instinct which actually seeks falsehood, and prefers it to truth. How often do we see the shameless and ignorant speculator arrest public attention, and attain fortune, while neglect, obscurity, and poverty are the portion of the modest practitioner, who has embraced the profession of mediciné with conscientiousness, and cultivated it with dignity and honor.

Great was Diana of the Ephesians, and we follow suit, for