hich are always open. The beasts of prey that come out are
called diseases. They feed upon us, and between their teeth we must
all pass sooner or later,--all but a few, who are otherwise taken care
of. When these animals attack a man, most of them give him a scratch
or a bite, and let him go. Some hold on a little while; some are
carried about for weeks or months, until the carrier drops down, or
they drop off. By and by one is sure to come along that drags down the
strongest, and makes an end of him.

Most people know little or nothing of these beasts, until all at once
they find themselves attacked by one of them. They are therefore
liable to be frightened by those that are not dangerous, and careless
with those that are destructive. They do not know what will soothe,
and what will exasperate them. They do not even know the dens of many
of them, though they are close to their own dwellings.

A physician is one that has lived among these beasts, and studied
their aspects and habits. He knows them all well, and looks them in
the face, and lays his hand on their backs daily. They seem, as it
were, to know him, and to greet him with such _risus sardonicus_
as they can muster. He knows that his friends and himself have all
got to be eaten up at last by them, and his friends have the same
belief. Yet they want him near them at all times, and with them when
they are set upon by any of these their natural enemies. He goes,
knowing pretty well what he can do and what he cannot.

He can talk to them in a quiet and sensible way about these terrible
beings, concerning which they are so ignorant, and liable to harbor
such foolish fancies. He can frighten away some of the lesser kind of
animals with certain ill-smelling preparations he carries about
him. Once in a while he can draw the teeth of some of the biggest, or
throttle them. He can point out their dens, and so keep many from
falling into their jaws.

This is a great deal to promise or perform, but it is not all that is
expected of him. Sick people are very apt to be both fools and
cowards. Many of them confess the fact in the frankest possible
way. If you doubt it, ask the next dentist about the wisdom and
courage of average manhood under the dispensation of a bad tooth. As a
tooth is to a liver, so are the dentists' patients to the doctors', in
the want of the two excellences above mentioned.

Those not over-wise human beings called patients are frequently a
little u