and thus ended my three
months sick leave. And now I go back to the din and bustle of life, the
empty conventionalities of society, the noise and glitter of mess; to
the re-pursuit of my profession, and to learn again by the bedside of
many a dying man how weak and powerless is that profession to combat the
ills that flesh is heir to. I sometimes wish I could exchange my present
calling. Terrible thoughts often assail me, after the death of any of my
patients. Questions as to whether I am at all responsible for the fatal
issue. Whether by lack of knowledge that I should possess or by careless
observation during the progress of the disease, I have allowed a man to
die who might have been saved, or pushed into the grave one who was only
trembling with uncertainty upon its brink. Yet as a set off against
these feelings there is the satisfaction experienced when sufferings are
relieved or health restored by the interposition of my aid. The
profession of medicine is potent for good and evil. For good in the
hands of him who makes it his lifelong study; for evil in his hands who
adopts it merely as a respectable means of obtaining his livelihood. It
is noble in the one case; detestable in the other. You do not know how
detestable. If the vail could be raised, if you could see the vast
amount of misery and suffering caused, the many hearts broken that God
would not have made sad; and the many unprepared souls hurried out of
this life into eternity by the ignorance of men who are "licensed to
kill," you would cry out against the whole body of the profession with a
bitter hatred, that even the army of noble and devoted minds amongst us
would be unable to appease. Am I too severe? I fear not. There are
charlatans and know nothings in every pursuit, but in mine they effect
so seriously the temporal and may be eternal welfare of mankind that
their existence is awful to contemplate. Shall I, in conclusion, write
an apology for having nothing better than the foregoing to offer for
your perusal "devil a bit." If I have written folly and you have read it
all, why, you are the greater simpleton. To me it was an occupation when
I had nothing better to do, on your part it was a foolish waste of
time, which might have been more profitably employed. If I have written
folly and you have _not_ read it, what necessity is there for me to
apologize to you? If I have written sense and you consider it nonsense,
you owe me an apology for your errone