of what you have seen and
known. But the question before us is, what you _have_ seen and known.
Mr. Browning had something on his face, and it got well; but do we know
it was a cancer? Only a very small proportion of twenty sores suspected
to be cancers ever prove to be such, and many of them get well after a
little time, if they are let entirely alone; or, if not let entirely
alone, they would probably still get well, in spite of the treatment. It
is quite a marvel with me, not that one person, Mr. Browning, recovered
in spite of the treatment, but that more did not."

"This is to me a new way of reasoning on this subject, and yet I do not
know but you are correct. I confess, that on reflection, I do not find
positive evidence that any good has been done to Mr. Browning. It may be
so, or it may not. And yet the story of his cure is told all over the
neighborhood and for many miles around, and Mrs. Lovejoy gets great
credit by it."

"No doubt she does; and thousands obtain both credit and cash in a
similar way. Much of the reputation of our wonderful cure-alls,
advertised in the newspapers, comes in a similar way."

"Do you really think so?"

"It can be demonstrated."

"Why, then, is it not oftener done?"

"It has been done, again and again."

"Are the public, then, fully determined to act against their own
interest? Do they choose to be humbugged?"

"It seems so."

"But can you do nothing with my face?"

"I can try. I will do what I can. But I must first tell you what I
_cannot_ do. I cannot pronounce your disease to be cancer. I cannot say
positively that my method of treatment will cure it. I cannot say,
moreover, that somebody else cannot cure you, even if I cannot. If,
however, I prescribe for you, you must consent to follow me for the time
most implicitly, and let everybody else alone."

"That I shall be both willing and glad to do."

"You need not begin till you are fully satisfied in regard to the
efficacy of Mrs. Lovejoy's plaster."

"I am pretty well satisfied already. I see that science is modest but
honest, and I prefer it to humbuggery."

My prescription was an application of the common blistering ointment of
the apothecary's shop. The part to which it was to be applied was quite
denuded and tender; but I told the patient to stick a small piece of the
plaster over it and wear it, and keep it as sore as he could for a month
or more. He was, however, to call on me once a week,--or, perhaps,