troubles the consultant far more than it does the family doctor, and
perhaps few who are not of us understand our difficulties in this
direction. Every patient has his or her standard of truth, and by it is
apt to try the perplexed physician. Some of the cases which arise are
curiously interesting, and perhaps nowhere better than in the
physician's office or at the bedside do we see sharply developed the
peculiarities of character as to this matter of truth in many of its
aspects. There is the patient who asks you to tell him the whole truth
as to his case. Does he really want to know? Very often he does not. If
you tell him, you sentence him. You do not shorten his life, you only
add to its misery. Or perhaps his wife has written to you, "On no
account tell my husband that he cannot get well. He dwells now on every
sign of failing health, and you will make him wretched." You parry his
question and try to help him. If he is resolute, he returns on you with
a query so positive that you must answer frankly. His wife was right.
You have done him an injury. There is the other man who insists at the
start that you must on no account tell him if he cannot get well. You
inform some relative of his condition. But perhaps he ought to know. He
contemplates some work or travel which he should not undertake. You say
so, and he replies, "But you have not told me that I am seriously ill."
Such is sick human nature.

The people who really want to know if they will die of some given
disease are few in number. Those who pretend they want to know are more
common. Those who should not know are frequent enough, and among them
one is troubled to do what seems right and to say in answer to their
questions what is true.

Wise women choose their doctors and trust them. The wisest ask the
fewest questions. The terrible patients are nervous women with long