not to be doubted that Luke held some valuable truths for the sick-room, for his good Greek and his scholarly style connect him with the theories and practices which Hippocrates had made popular. Hippocrates belonged to the times of Socrates and Plato, and therefore did not make any use of magic in his treatment of disease. We can see Luke listening to the action of the heart and lungs, and can note him as relying much upon diet -the cutting off of supplies from a system clogged in some of its wheels.

With him, nature was the physician's best partner. The doctor of that day must know when the critical days of attack would come, and must in advance help nature to carry the patient over each critical hour. What few principles Luke held were reasoned out on the instructive plan of deducing inferences from a great multitude of observations.

The reliance upon magic came later, when the Greek and Roman form of thought and culture had been overwhelmed by the sorcery that came from the union of a superstitious church with the superstitious Goths and Vandals. those days the headache was Satan in the brain. A much earlier pagan age had bored a hole in the skull that the imprisoned devil might get out. The surgeon who believed in this cause of pain possessed skill enough to trepan the skull of the sufferer. It was long after Luke that men thought the bleeding of a finger or of the nose could be stopped by tying a red string somewhere between the nose or finger and the heart. It was thought that the blood would love to linger near the red color. Red loved red.

It was in those precious days that three kinds of leaves would in combination effect a cure, not because of any one medicinal weed, but because of the threeness of the herbs. It was in those years that when a knife or an axe cut the human body, the knife or axe was done up in rags and liniment and the wound left without treatment. Luke must have followed a few rational principles, and have been something of a blessing to the towns and cities which he touched in his travels, or in which he lived his early or later life.

He was called a beloved physician because his profession had won him many friends and had made him a man of deep sympathy. When he added the Christian love and well-doing to his worth as

a doctor, he must have been one of the choice men of his century.

If such a defective period could call by an affectionate title its ideal doctor, our kinder civilization should not pass by with coldness those successors of Luke who are carrying through our nation a science and art ten times as large and ten times as true as the practice of Hippocrates and Serapion. As our times have emptied the magic out of religion and law and out of life in general, so have they made medicine a profound study of nature's unchanging facts. Never before in the long history of man has there been such a wise, patient, and exhaustive study of anatomy and physiology, and of disease and its treatment. The surgeon has kept step with the physician. Obliged to fight an invisible foe, courage has often broken through the cloud, and has compelled the enemy to unmask and confess its name and nature.

We must estimate aright the men who can keep down a temperature which a few years ago meant the burning up of the tissues and the death of the patient; the men who can help nature's kindness and thwart her wrath; men who can mend up a broken body; men who can make old fable a reality by putting sufferers into a painless and harmless Lethean sleep; men who can keep back a pestilence from a nation, and teach the millions the laws of health and almost of perpetual youth.

The scientists who were attempting to find the origin of the ape and the oyster and then of man, opened a field of inquiry for the physician, and he was quick to enter it. The Darwins and Huxleys did not harm religion so much as they benefited medical science. Disease is seen to be often a conflict of low life with high life. The spores of the meanest organisms upon earth invade the divine body of man and overthrow the human giant, as the mice once ruined a city, or as locusts tormented Egypt, or as Swift's monster was harassed by the pygmies. In a few hours certain living germs can undermine the human temple and reduce its beauty to dust. The new medical science fights these enemies, whether it finds them in the water, or in the air, or in the food essential to man's existence. The plague of London and that of Constantinople, which in a year made the streets empty and the graveyards full, was an invasion more terrible than that of any army that ever marched. The

invaders were the microbes of late fame. These the modern doctor assails, and is thus keeping back from our country the black years in which there were hardly living persons enough to give burial to the dead. As we thank the army that fights for the nation's liberty, so must we do justice to the science that fights for the people's life. In a half-century this science has added to American life about ten years. Last summer our nation might have been a hospital and a graveyard had not medical science stood between us and the grave.

The medical profession would receive yet more sympathy, would we only remember what new diseases our extravagant and reckless generation raises up against that art. Financial success always brings gluttony, intemperance, and many forms of destructive vice. The physician can study disease and the materia medica, but he cannot confer common sense upon men, young or old. Vice, appetite, destroy not only health but also self-control; the will power is smitten. When man makes himself into an invalid, then the physician has on his hands a herculean task. Natural disease touches young men but seldom, and then gently; the sad hour comes for the doctor when the modern manhood smites itself. doctor has lengthened human life, but it will be greatly extended when society. shall make its habits of living come to the help of the skill of the doctor and the kindness of nature.

The

The English language, although the greatest yet spoken, is defective in this, that in all discussions of human greatness the pronouns, direct and reflex, are all masculine. There are learned, most skillful, and successful physicians who are women; but the English language. was made before woman, as a mind or a soul, appeared above the horizon. Man not only dominated in the home, in property, in church and state, in science and art, but he dominated in language.

His old egotism fabricated for itself quite a heavy penalty, for when language refers to a scoundrel or a drunkard or an idiot, it always means a man. Moments Moments come in English diction when womanhood is glad to be left out. Of late years woman has begun to come into the medical profession, and she is now welcomed and honored, so far as she comes in by the gates of general learning and the special act. What society now demands is great

fitness for the great end. It wants learning and skill.

The great physicians all stand beautifully related to benevolence. It is very nearly true that no family is so poor as to be placed beyond the sympathy and help of the healing art. When the sick person possesses no moral desert, even if he be a criminal, the ideal doctor hears his moans if he is smitten with illness, and feels that to the lowest member of society life is dear. It is enough that a human being is in pain. The church cannot say that the poor have the gospel preached to them, but the medical world may well be praised for their willingness to carry their learning and skill to homes from which no reward of service can ever come. All our best surgeons and doctors who have reached gray hairs stand to-day ennobled by known and unknown charity. To minister to the sufferer who had more sickness than money, the doctor has braved the winter's storm. Men who have been in active practice for a lifetime estimate that one-fourth of their work is done where pay for the service is impossible.

It is reported, but without much visible foundation, that the theory of evolution. and the absorbing attention given to physical studies have handed over to atheism many of the younger physicians. If such rumor be true, it is good ground for regret. We cannot demand that the physician be a religious man, but we can rejoice when he is such. The doctor, like the painter, or musician, or lawyer, is compelled to be eminent in only his art. It is the world's good fortune if he is also good and true in a religious faith. Beautiful, therefore, is the memory of a vast army of these men who have passed away from this life. As Luke by his calling stood near to Christianity and did not need to take many steps in passing from his own benevolence to the service of a love more infinite, so nearly all of the medical men who now live only in remembrance were consciously and actively the children of God. Forbidden by the variety of creeds held by their patients from being sectarians, and from being full of debate, the doctor finds religion in its simple essence. If he sees Christ at all, he sees him as the Physician of souls. Doctrines are insignificant compared with the health of the mind and heart. The creed is made simple and universal, because as the medicine is

for the human body the religion must be for the human soul.

Into each one of the great professions many unworthy men rush. Inability and absolute dishonesty stain all human pursuits. The medical profession bears only its quota of many-shaped unfitness. The noble practitioners are many. We can all recall many of these faces. Some of them are still in the world of life, and some of them, as the hymn says, "Loved long since and lost awhile." With minds trained and ornamented by the high college course, along which journeying the student is changed into the surrounding greatness from glory to glory, with the added stores of professional wisdom and skill, with a breadth of sympathy created by meeting all classes in their hours of most care and peril, with a charity inflamed by the tears of the poor and by the consciousness of the power to help them, with a religion that does not differ much from that of Palestine, and with a buoyant philosophy that must always cheer the heart which disease is enveloping in shadow, filling at last, in fatal ailment, the office of holding the hand which is slowly growing cold, and of speaking those awful and mysterious words, "He is gone," all great physicians stand on a level with all the foreheads of most usefulness and most honor. Blessed day for society when each lawyer, each preacher, each physician, shall realize to the uttermost the greatness of his profession.

Any success that has come to me has been due largely to the fact that I have always endeavored strictly to attend to business. Let me give an illustration. When I was a boy in a printer's office and it came along 3 or 4 o'clock in the afternoon, I would say to myself, suppose the proprietor should come up where we were at work and say, Robert, what have you been doing to-day?" what would I answer? He never did such a thing, but I used to reason to myself,

་་

"Suppose he were to do it." If I could not, with pride and pleasure, point to what I had been doing, I would pack up at 6 o'clock and leave the place.

I consider that kind of spirit is an element of success, and there is always room for young men who show that kind of disposition. The indolent boy who shiftlessly goes through his day's work, will never reach the goal of success. The youth who is constantly watching the clock, waiting until it shall strike six, and tries to "kill time"-well, it will not be long before time will kill him, so far as business is concerned.-Robert Bonner. Tuesday.

I FORGOT IT."

A successful business man says there were two things which he learned when he was eighteen, which were ever afterwards of great use to him, namely, "Never to lose anything, and never to forget anything.”

An old lawyer sent him with an important paper, with certain instructions what to do with it. "But," inquired the young man, "suppose I lose it; what shall I do then?”'

"You must not lose it."

"I don't mean to," said the young man, "but suppose I should happen to."

"But I say you must not happen to; I shall make no provision for such an occurrence; you must not lose it!"

This put a new train of thought into the young man's mind, and he found that if he was determined to do a thing he could do it. He made such a provision against every contingency that he never lost anything. He found this equally true about forgetting. If a certain matter of importance was to be remembered, he pinned it down in his mind, fastened it there, and made it stay. He used to say, "When a man tells me he forgot to do something, I tell him he might as well have said, 'I do not care enough about your business to take the trouble to think about it again.'”

"I once had an intelligent young man in my employment who deemed it sufficient excuse for neglecting an important task to say, 'I forgot it.' I told him that would not answer. If he was suf ficiently interested, he would be careful to remember. It was because he didn't care enough that he forgot it. I drilled him with this truth. He worked for me three years, and during the last of the

three he was utterly changed in this respect. He did not forget a thing. His forgetting, he found, was a lazy, careless habit of the mind, which he cured."

Wednesday.

Mr. George M. Pullman recently said to a correspondent, when asked how it feels to be a millionaire: "I have never thought of that. But now that you mention it, I believe that I am no better off -certainly no happier-than I was when I didn't have a dollar to my name, and had to work from daylight until dark." Thursday.

ADVICE TO A YOUNG MAN.

Remember, my son, you have to work. Whether you handle a pick or a pen, a wheelbarrow or a set of books, digging ditches or editing a paper, ringing an auction bell or writing funny things, you must work. If you look around, you will see the men who are the most able to live the rest of their days without work are the men who work the hardest. Don't be afraid of killing yourself with overwork. It is beyond your power to do that, on the sunny side of thirty. They die sometimes, but it is because they quit work at 6 p. m., and don't get home until 2 a. m. It's the interval that kills, my son. The work gives you an appetite for your meals; it lends solidity to your slumbers; it gives you a perfect and grateful appreciation of a holiday.

There are young men who do not work, but the world is not proud of them. It does not know their names, even; it

ones of all the number who ever knew even who it was that advertised, and of course were the only ones who had any chance of getting the position. It is almost pathetic to think of all these applicants waiting for a response to a letter that in some way carried with it its own condemnation, that said somewhere between the lines, "The one that wrote this is ignorant and incompetent."

"What was it," you ask, "that crept into that letter that doomed it?" Just the thing, my young friend, that creeps into a life that dooms it to the second or third class IGNORANCE, and what is more, ignorance of the ignorance, paradoxical as that may seem. You little spelled word and a poor crippled sentence know that you paid postage on a miswithout a verb; that one capital letter and several punctuation marks you forgot to enclose, but put in, instead, some conceit and assurance that did not recommend you in the least. You little knew, or you would not have written it, that your letter would not even be read on account of the bad penmanship; and you may be surprised to know that your letter liness, that a man would, if necessary, told all about your bad taste and slovenpay to keep out of his business, and yet you expected a favorable answer.-The Business World.

ROTE TEACHING.

are there. So find out what you want to be and do, and take off your coat and make a dust in the world. The busier you are the less harm you will be apt to get into, the sweeter will be your sleep, the brighter and happier your holidays, and the better satisfied will the world be with you.-Bob Burdette.

Friday.

A MILLION APPLICANTS.

A business man in this city received a few days ago, in response to an advertisement for an assistant to fill an important position, a very large number of applications, "about a million," he said, and of these all but four were consigned to the waste-basket. As the name of the firm advertising was not given, the writers of these four letters were the only

pupils repeat words whose meaning they have not grasped. Learning by rote differs from true learning by heart because in the latter the mind thinks the thoughts which the words enshrine. Teachers generally recognize how diffimal School catalogue stated that one of cult it is to make pupils think. A Northe aims of the faculty was to get the pupils to read Latin at sight and to think in more tongues than one. A city superintendent wrote, asking "How do you do it? We would be satisfied if we could make our pupils think in English." The reply was: "By giving them something to think about. Children must

not be expected to fish out of an empty puddle.. They can not make bricks without either clay or straw."

However, the proper thing would have been to define what is meant by thinking.

The books on Mental Science define the intellect as the power by which we think. Here thinking is used to denote any and every exercise of the intellect. A late dictionary defines thinking as any intellectual activity other than simple perception or the passive reception of ideas. There is a narrower use of the word, including recollection and the active exercise of the imagination. A still more restricted use limits it to the inference or the comparison of two ideas through their relation to a third. Much mischief and injustice to childhood results from the confusion of these several meanings in the minds of those who teach. In a certain school of national fame the principal gave an exercise in thinking for the edification of visitors. One boy selected an object, telling the class, to which kingdom-mineral, vegetable or animal -it belonged. Then the others tried to think of the objects, and the names of those mentioned were written upon the blackboard. It was that inference upon a very narrow basis of facts which we call guessing, and which it is the teacher's duty to eradicate lest it became a habit.

Thinking implies instruments of thought as well as something to think about or materials of thought. The former consists of words, symbols and

stand language and to draw conclusions about things with which their life is not at all conversant. Give them something definite to think about as the first condition of training them to think.

In the next place they need the instruments of thought in the shape of language, written and spoken, and of symbols like those in arithmetic, algebra and chemistry. As soon as a definite idea or concept is acquired, it should be associated with its appropriate sign, so that the pupil learns to think in symbols as well as in things. This distinction, first pointed out by Leibnitz, runs through all teaching, and they who lose sight of it or fail to recognize it make the pathway of the child unnecessarily difficult.

In all teaching the child, and not the branches of knowledge, should be the prime consideration. The child does not exist for the sake of a course of study, for the sake of parsing knotty sentences and of solving difficult questions; but the course of study, the grammar and the arithmetic, exist for the sake of the child, for the purpose of promoting its mental development.

BRINGING UP CHILDREN.

unloveliness, strange as it may

themselves-that is of the facts, ideas, thoughts, sentiments and purposes which constitute the branches of knowledge and the conduct of life. All people think in their own lines, and in other lines they allow other people to think for them. The lawyer thinks clearly in matters pretaining to his practice, but when it comes to preparing his dinner, his wife or the cook thinks for him. Moreover there is as much earnest thinking in practical life as in the realms of philosophy.

The inventor of the Ferris wheel did as good thinking as the author of Hegel's Philosophy of History. The woman whose husband earns two dollars a day, and who provides for her little family on that income, often does more earnest thinking in a week than some of our congressmen during a whole session of that body in Washington.

The reasoning powers require time to mature. Many expect the ripe fruit too early in life. Reflection is a process of slow growth, and children are often expected to solve questions entirely beyond their years. They are asked to under

seem,

badly developed brain, the eye and the spine especially declaring this, but leaving it an open question whether an evil soul lodged in a body reduces it to its own likeness, or whether an ill-fed, and wrongly developed body cramps and dwarfs and hurts the soul. The measure round the skull of the criminal, taken horizontally, is nearly always less than that round the skull of the upright man, and his brain is found to be lighter; his constitution is feebler, too, and his heart often weak.

But even among culprits themselves there are great differences; thus the highway robber is naturally found to be taller than the pickpocket, and the bones of his skeleton are stronger; he and the murderer, when they write at all, often write a large round hand with many flourishes; the thief writes with effeminacy a small hand. These people are apt to give the student surprises; he finds, for instance, that they are not habitually cruel; wanton murderers will be kind to a pet; where they are cruel it is the women who