him much. Whether he is gentle and well-mannered, is socially agreeable,
or as to this negative, influences much the choice of the woman on whom,
as a rule, comes finally the decision of who her family physician shall
be. Too often she is caught by the outside show of manners, and sets
aside an abler and plainer man, who has more really the true manners of
the heart, yet lacks the power to make himself pleasant. Desirable it
is, of course, to be what so many of the best physicians have been,
refined and tactful gentlemen, and also charming companions. But a man
may be a most competent, clear-headed, honest, scrupulously careful
doctor, and yet be plain, ill-dressed, and uninteresting, and all this
it is as well to understand. The mass of professional opinion is not so
easily pleased as are individual patients. It decides pretty early in
any large community, and classifies its members accurately, reversing
very often the verdict of the juries of matrons, who do so much to make
or mar our early fates. Soon or late it sifts the mass, knows who are
the thorough, trustworthy, competent, hard-headed practitioners, who are
the timid, who the too daring, who ride hobbies, and who trust too much
to drugs. Soon, too, it distinguishes those on whom it can call in
emergencies, and the highest class of men who have the great gift of
discovery and the genius of observation.

From the public we can look for no such justice, and our professional
manners forbid us to speak of our brethren, save among ourselves, with
perfect freedom. As a profession, it is my sincere conviction that in
our adherence to a high code of moral law, and in the general honesty
with which we do our work, no other profession can be compared with
ours. Our temptations, small and large, negative and positive, are many
and constant, and yet I am quite sure that no like group of men affords
as few illustrations of grave moral weaknesses. It is commonplace to say
that our lives are one long training in charity, self-abandonment, all