t because Dr. ---- did not
come." I said to her, "You can send for him now, madam, as soon as he
returns. Do not think yourselves compelled to adhere to me, simply
because you have been obliged to call me once. I will yield most
cheerfully to the individual of your preference."

Mrs. B. apologized. She knew I had done as well as I could, she said;
and perhaps no one could have done better. "But little Leonora," said
she, "is dreadfully sick; and I do very much want to see Dr. B. He has
had more experience than you. These young doctors, just from the
schools, what can they know, the best of them?"

I saw her difficulties; but, as I have already intimated, I did not look
so wise as Dr. B., nor had I so grave a face, nor so large an abdomen. I
could neither tell so good a story, nor laugh so heartily; I could not
even descend to that petty talk which is so often greatly preferred to
silence or newspaper reading, not only by such individuals as Mrs. B.
and her friends, but by most families. A physician must be a man of
sympathy. He need not, however, descend to so low a level as that of
dishonesty; but he must come down to the level of his people in regard
to manners and conversation. He must converse with them in their own
language. He must not only _seem_ to be devoted, unreservedly, to their
interests, but must actually _be_ so. This confession is most cheerfully
and sincerely and honestly made; and may he who reads it understand.

On a certain occasion I was called to prescribe in a family where the
disappointment was so great that the patient was actually made worse by
my presence, and an unfavorable turn given to the disease. It may be
said that people ought not to yield themselves up to the influence of
such feelings; and it is certainly true that they ought not. But sick
people are not always rational, nor even judicious. Dr. Johnson says:
"Every sick man is a rascal;" but we need not go quite so far as that.
Sickness changes us, morally, sometimes for the better, but much oftener
for the worse; and in general it makes us much less reasonable.

But it is far enough from being my intention to present a full account
of the trials incident to the life of a young medical man; for, in order
to do this, I should be obliged to carry you with me, at least mentally,
to places which you would not greatly desire to visit. Physicians can
seldom choose their patients; they are compelled to take them as they
find them. They wi