"Oh, with a will like yours, one can do a great deal. I had an obstinate
patient once determined not to die, and she did not die, though death
was due. Resistance is natural to some temperaments. Yours is one of
them. Fight off those attacks, Miriam, in future."

"I will try," I said, half amused at his suggestion, "but, if all
physicians gave such prescriptions, medicine would be at a discount."

"Not at all. Medicine is a great aid in any case--I have never thought
it more. A doctor is only a pilot; he steers a ship sometimes past
dangerous places on which it would founder otherwise, but he never
pretends, unless he is a charlatan, to upheave shoals and rocks, or to
control tempests. He can only mind his rudder and shift his sails; the
rest is with Providence. Now, suppose the captain of this ship is calm
and firm, and coincides with the pilot's efforts, instead of
counteracting and embarrassing them. Don't you see the advantage to the
ship?"

"Oh, certainly, and I admire the ingenuity of your allegory. You must
have been studying Bunyan, lately."

"No, Miriam, I have little time for books, save those necessary to my
profession. I study a mightier volume daily than scholar ever wrote--the
wondrous mind and body of man, the one illustrated by the other, and
both so mutually dependent that short-sighted people have occasionally
confounded them, yet distinct after all as God and the universe."

"I am glad to hear you say this; doctors are so often accused of being
materialists."