ADDRESSES 
 
 THE GRADUATING CLASS 
 
 Cooper Medical College 
 
 November 12, 1889. 
 
 Professor S. 0. L. POTTER, A.M., M.D. 
 
 Rev. JACOB VOORSANGER, D.D. 
 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO: 
 
 WooduiardA Co., Pacifie Medical Journal Print, 522 California Street, 
 
 1889 
 
 k^ 
 
 ^^ 
 
PROFESSIONAL SUCCESS. 
 
 A VALEDICTORY ADDRESS 
 
 Delivered to the Graduating Class at Cooper Medical 
 College, San Francisco, November 12th, 1889. 
 
 By sam'l o. l. potter, a. M., M. D. 
 
 Professor of Theoiyand Practice of Medicine. 
 
 Ladies and Gentlemen, Members of the Graduating Glass of 
 1889: — It has fallen to my lot to take leave of you as students 
 and to dismiss you from the halls of this College, with the vale, 
 the farewell of its Faculty, upon this momentous occasion in 
 your lives, when you enter upon the duties and privileges of 
 our profession. I feel, however, in thus addressing you, that 
 there is hardly the ordinary appropriateness in my being 
 selected for this privilege, inasmuch as I may be said to be 
 graduating myself to-night, having just completed my first 
 course of three years as a teacher beneath this roof. When you 
 entered these halls, three years ago, as students, I entered them 
 with you, as your teacher. Together we have worked hard 
 since then, in pursuing the course of your professional educa- 
 tion — you in acquiring what I have been striving to impart, in 
 conjunction with my more experienced and learned brethren of 
 the Faculty. And now, at the end of our mutual study, I am 
 impressed with the sense of my own graduation at this com- 
 mencement, and with the hope that I may be found to be as 
 worthy of my professorial chair, as you have been pronounced 
 to be of your diplomas. 
 
 Happy, smiling faces, reflecting the warm hearts and kind 
 wishes of your friends, greet you to-night on every side. All 
 the members of this assembly' seem to be overflowing with the 
 most genuine good feeling for you, and to join with your indi- 
 vidual near ones in making this an occasion of delightful re- 
 membrance. No cloud should dim your sky to-night, no shadow 
 should fall upon your thoughts, to mar the pleasure you feel in 
 entering upon what you are now resolving shall be successful 
 and honorable careers. How shall I, as the representative of 
 the Faculty for this hour, most fitly close this happy evening. 
 
 45ri3t> 
 
2 Address. 
 
 and yet leave upon your ears some words which may burn them- 
 selves into your memories, and help to raise your aspirations to 
 the front rank, among the members of the noble profession 
 to which you are wedded to-night ? What shall be the most in- 
 spiring theme, on which to address you in this hour of your 
 first victory, a theme which shall nerve you to the struggle for 
 greater conquests in your future prof est- ional careers? 
 
 When the military student goes forth from the halls of his 
 alma mater, to enter upon a life which is consecrated to the 
 defense of his country; when the newly-ordained minister turns 
 his back upon the theological seminary, to engage in the never- 
 ending warfare with sin, and to hold up the banner of the cross 
 before a sin-loving world; when the student of the law receives 
 the certificate which authorizes him to plead the cause of a 
 suitor before the tribunals of the State; and when the medical 
 student is graduated, and endowed with all the rights, privileges 
 and duties of one whose life is devoted to the relief of suffering 
 humanity — what subject above all others can charm his ear, or 
 entrance his mind, or rivet his attention, as will that of his 
 probable personal share in what is called " success? ' ' Success 
 is the loadstone which now attracts your purposes, enchains 
 your thoughts, your dreams; success is the ultimate center of 
 your aims, the nucleolus of your aspirations, the goal of all your 
 hopes; success in life, in love, in war with disease and death. 
 Surely, no theme could be more appropriate for consideration 
 at this "commencement" of your professional lives, than the 
 measure of success which you may attain to, and the kind of 
 success for which you should strive. 
 
 Success is a quantity of unknown limits, a conception of a 
 condition which cannot be clearly defined. Every one has his 
 own ideal of it, and this is so varying in quality and degree, 
 that what would be success to one might be miserable failure 
 to another, even in the same career. The poet writes : 
 
 " It is success that colors all in life, 
 
 Makes villains honest, and the rogue admired ; 
 Yea, even virtue, if opposed by strife, 
 Yields to success, no matter how acquired. " 
 
 But this conception of success, while unfortunately too com- 
 mon, is yet a low, a false one, referring only to the realization 
 of the material things of life — place, power and riches. It does 
 not embrace the spiritual part of existence, nor find place for 
 
Address. 3 
 
 happiness, for that "peace which passeth understanding," the 
 only true crown of a successful life. It is, however, too often 
 the highest ideal of professional men, too many of whom believe 
 that success means the possession of these things which all the 
 world seems aiming for. With such a conception the success of 
 the quack would be the highest in our professional view, for 
 most of this class acquire wealth, many obtain political place, 
 and nearly all are possessed of such power that they stand above 
 the law, no jury being found to convict them, even when guilty 
 of the highest crime known to the law, murder most foul, the 
 murder of the helpless innocent. 
 
 While it is beyond belief that the aspirations of any before 
 me to-night tend in the direction of the charlatan's success, it is 
 by no means improbable that some of you may be tempted to 
 win by essaying a compromise course of conduct, and thus may 
 eventually find yourselves upon the list, already a very large 
 one, of apparently reputable physicians, who are afflicted with 
 a species of mental strabismus, keeping one eye upon the code 
 of ethics, and the other directed crosswise at every known 
 means of violating its spirit, while carefully keeping within 
 the letter of its law. Guided by such an obliquity of moral 
 vision, the course of these men is always inclined towards the 
 open sea of quackery, rather than for the straight though nar- 
 row channel of ethical professional conduct. How to be adver- 
 tised without open advertising is the sole guiding-star of life's 
 voyage for them; and the only harbor they seek to anchor in is 
 one the sands of which consist of dollars, forming silver shores 
 washed up by the hoarse waves of notoriety. For them the 
 medical profession is only a trade, — and trade-signs surround 
 their every movement. 
 
 Each one of you will eventually find yourself in line with this 
 class of physicians, or with that which tries to live up to the 
 highest ethics of your profession; and much will depend on the 
 first steps you take in shaping your path, in deciding the rank 
 you will finally fall in with. If you would be mustered with the 
 Jenners, the Brights, the Virchows, the Pagets, the Grosses, 
 the Da Costas, with all the princes of medicine and surgery, 
 you must enrol yourselves with them in ethical conduct from 
 this very night, — for even occasional wandering from the rules 
 by which their lives were guided will gradually but surely draw 
 you down to the level of, and associate your names with, the 
 
4 Address. 
 
 Cagliostros, the HoUoways, the Hahnemaniacs of Medicine, the 
 peddlers of puerile pellets, the vendors of elixirs of life, safe- 
 cures, and microbe-killers. 
 
 There is a wide gulf of separation between a profession and a 
 trade. The one opens its doors widely to all competent comers, 
 and places no restriction on its membership save those of a proper 
 education and a proper course of conduct: — the other ties itself 
 up in trades-unions, fixing one wage for all, lowering the most 
 skilled to the level of the poorest workman, and prevents even 
 the children of its members from learning their father's trade, 
 by restricting the number of apprentices in a shop. A profes- 
 sion works, as a rule, without fixed compensation for each min- 
 ute of time or act of skill, does fully one-half of its work 
 for charity, and varies its fees in accordance with the 
 ability of its clients; — the trade does nothing for sweet 
 charity, but demands from rich and poor alike a fixed price 
 for every minute its journeyman spends in loafing along 
 the streets, and keeps a lien upon the work until its demands 
 are fully complied with. The profession gives more than it 
 agrees to for all it gets — the trade puts forth its best efforts in 
 striving to realize the largest possible profits from its contracts. 
 The profession, of its own accord, furnishes the best material 
 attainable for its work — the trade puts in the worst material 
 it can get accepted, and strives to cover its defective material 
 and poor work with some varnish which will hide its faults. 
 The profession publishes its discoveries, tries to educate the 
 people in its methods, to make them familiar with its tools, and 
 to inculcate a mode of living which will lessen the demand for 
 its services — the trade hides all its secrets, or protects them 
 by patents, and not infrequently does direct injury to property 
 for the purpose of making future work for itself. The profes- 
 sion exhibits but a modest sign, to show its abiding-place, and 
 avoids every appearance of show or display — the trade covers 
 walls, windows and fences, even the rocks, with glaring and 
 often vulgar devices, proclaiming itself to the ignorant, and ex- 
 alting itself above its neighbors, by claims which are frequently 
 as false as they are impudent. 
 
 In all professions you will find tradesmen, individuals who 
 have only the trade idea, and who consequently debase their 
 profession by lowering it to the trade level, and working for 
 money alone. In none is this prostitution more frequently 
 
Address. 5 
 
 seen, than in the one upon which you are entering. As you will 
 find lawyers who foment quarrels, sell out their clients, and 
 make laws so loosely as to increase litigation; as there are clergy- 
 men who cry hell-fire from their pulpits, and trade upon the fear 
 of everlasting punishment in a future life ; as you will find 
 dentists who will drill holes in sound teeth, in order to fill them 
 at another time, and who hang monster molars in gilded wood 
 before their offices, — so you will find p%sicians in every commu- 
 nity who prey on the ignorance and confidence of mankind, 
 frightening their clients into long periods of treatment by ex- 
 aggerating their ills; pretending to make operations or making 
 useless ones, on parts of the body which the patient cannot see; 
 falsely announcing the existence of specific diseases to which the 
 patient's folly may have exposed him; and advertising themselves 
 and their cures by every method which ingenuity can suggest. 
 Whatever the particular methods employed, the trail of the ser- 
 pent is over them all; they have one object alone, the advertising 
 of their owner to the world. 
 
 Morally viewed, all advertising is wrong, because it tells only 
 one side of the story, and keeps the other side studiously con- 
 cealed. There is, however, less wrong about it in the trades, 
 because every buyer is supposed to know something about the 
 quality of the goods and their prices; and can, at any rate, go 
 around from shop to shop, examine and compare, before pur- 
 chasing. But in a profession there is no such opportunity, no 
 such safe-guard, for the client. The public cannot weigh a 
 lawyer's judgment, or feel of a physician's skill, it only knows 
 what rumor says as to the successful results of either man's prac- 
 tice; and this rumor emanating from himself and his friends, it 
 deals only with his cures, his successes, — never with his failures 
 to cure, unless in cases where such failure will redown to his 
 benefit by letting it be known that he is engaged in a criminal 
 practice. 
 
 The legal profession is pretty free from the most obnoxious 
 sorts of advertining, and the reason is found in the complete 
 control which that profession exercises over its membership — 
 a privilege which it has never given to our profession. Suppose 
 that a lawyer came here from an eastern city, and commenced 
 his professional career by advertising in the daily papers that 
 he had never lost a case intrusted to him, that he had more 
 1 egal learning and a better legal education than any other law- 
 
6 Address. 
 
 yer in the community, that his control over judges was para- 
 mount, and his influence with juries unassailable, that in short 
 he had a corner on all legal machinery, and could guarantee a 
 successful issue to every case he accepted, that consultations 
 with him were free, and that " no judgment, no pay," was his rule 
 of practice, — how long would such a man retain the privilege of 
 practising before the courts of this State ? Not one legal day 
 after his advertisement was presented to a court; and his dis- 
 barment would operate, not only here, but in every part of the 
 country, so that he could not emigrate from one State to do the 
 same in another. Yet lawyers deny us the right to expel simi- 
 lar advertisers from the medical profession, and even State Su- 
 preme Courts reverse convictions on the most flimsy pretexts, 
 gravely stating that a physician has a right to inform the public 
 of his self-asserted skill, and thus casting the mantle of legal 
 protection around the most glaring violators of our time-honored 
 ethics. 
 
 Though these instances of professional wrong-doing are by 
 far too common, they are not so flagrant as they were in former 
 years, in the body of the regular profession. The open adver- 
 tisers are relegated to the quack-list, debarred from any profes- 
 sional association or help in time of trouble . Hence they must 
 always be on the wing, ready to flee if serious prosecution arises, 
 or else be prepared to purchase a successful result, by sur- 
 rendering a large portion of their gains. Between satisfying 
 the black-mailing portion of their clientele, the regular charges 
 for medical advertisements, and the fees to lawyers and juries, 
 the financial lot of the quack is not always an enviable one. 
 His half-brother, the would-be advertiser, is not, on the whole, 
 much better off. Generally shunned by his brethren, and cor- 
 dially despised by the best elements in his profession, his 
 peculiar practices bring him into a constant warfare, as he 
 struggles to rise on the ruin of others. No matter how many of 
 the laity are sounding his praises, no physician ever commends 
 him. Too often has he ruthlessly trampled on their feelings in 
 consultations, ingratiated himself into their families by un- 
 worthy means, and slaughtered their reputations before their 
 patients — so that, poor human nature not being yet angelic in 
 its forgiveness, they pay him back when they get the chance, 
 and the chance is sure to come. 
 
 The change in professional feeling about such matters is well 
 
Address. 7 
 
 exhibited by contrasting the elevated tone of our code of ethics 
 with the advice given one hundred and fifty years ago to a 
 young graduate, by the celebrated Dr. Mead, one of the most 
 highly distinguished and honored physicians of London. Among 
 many other things he said — 
 
 " The first thing I advise you to do is to make all the noise 
 and bustle you can, to make the whole town ring of you if pos- 
 sible, so that every one may know that there is such a being, 
 and here in town, too, such a physician." 
 
 '• If your wife mind business in her way, it will certainly in- 
 crease yours." 
 
 '• Should you have an itching to write a book on physic, I 
 would advise you to choose a subject by which you think you 
 will get most money, as fevers, smallpox, etc. For in these dis- 
 eases some must always live, some die; it is a hard matter to tell 
 when right or when wrong." 
 
 " And next then I would advise you, whatever the subject you 
 write upon, rather to write so as neither to make downright 
 sense or nonsense thereof, than otherwise; because thus none of 
 the profession can well lay hold of you for any particular part; 
 or, if they should, there is room for you to defend it, being as 
 easily understood one way as the other." 
 
 The author of this advice was a member of the Boyal Society, 
 physician to St. Thomas' Hospital, lecturer at the Surgeon's 
 Hall, regular physician to Queen Anne and King George the 2nd, 
 the recognized head of his profession in England in his day, 
 and the author of several important medical works. Fancy a 
 Paget, a Quain, or a Gross, giving such advice to a young grad- 
 uate at the present time ! 
 
 It is, however, a fact, highly complimentary to the American 
 medical profession, that the great majority of physicians given 
 to these trade methods in this country are men of foreign birth 
 and education. Excluding the openly-acknowledged quacks, 
 and looking at the regular ranks alone, you will find these ob- 
 jectionable practices chiefly indulged in by medical immigrants, 
 not by graduates of our own schools. Received by us with open 
 arms, admitted to practice on diplomas, which in many cases do 
 not confer the right to practice in the countries where they were 
 issued, a very large proportion of these men utterly ignore our 
 ethics, treat our graduates with half-disguised scorn, and habit- 
 ually employ methods of professional practice which they would 
 not dare to use in their own countries. As one young man said 
 to me, when I remonstrated with him for some unethical con- 
 duct, " Well, you know, I thought one could do almost anything 
 
8 Address. 
 
 in America." It is high time we abandoned free trade in foreign 
 diplomas and compelled the respect of medical immigrants by 
 enforcing on them the same requirements that their countries 
 demand of our graduates, before permitting them to practice 
 here. When we do this, our first-class diplomas will obtain full 
 recognition abroad, in every civilized country, a recognition 
 which will never be accorded to them until we so honor them 
 ourselves. 
 
 One unpleasant feature of professional success is that eveiy 
 step in its course entails a certain amount of professional failure 
 to some other one, pehaps equally, perhaps more deserving. 
 Every case the lawyer wins, some other lawyer must lose; and 
 almost every patient you get, in your first years of practice, will 
 leave some other physician. As a man rises in any profession, 
 he is obliged to tread upon the position of some one of his 
 brethren. This, of course, entails a certain amount of jealousy, 
 the outcome of our human nature, and which cannot be entirely 
 prevented; though by his own conduct, it is in the power of the 
 rising man to abate much of it, and even to make firm friends of 
 those who are injured by his success. If no harsh words are 
 uttered, if no mean implications are thrown out, but if, on the 
 contrary, the interests of the displaced physician are carefully 
 guarded by the successor, there may be some feeling at first, 
 but in the end a friend will be gained, for his friendship has 
 been deserved. One of the best rules to follow, when succeed- 
 ing another physician in a case from which he has been dismissed, 
 is to say that you are greatly indebted to your predecessor for 
 having so thoroughly exhausted a certain line of treatment and 
 thereby prevented your having to go over the same ground. 
 This you can truthfully say, for it will be true in almost every 
 such case. It will exalt you, as well as the other man, in the 
 eyes of the family, for in honoring the work of his brethren, a 
 physician always honors himself. Professor Gross laid down a 
 noble example in this respect, for all of us to profit by. In his 
 autobiography he says: " I never spoke ill of a professional 
 brother, or did anything directly or indirectly to undermine his 
 standing with his patients, the profession or the public. On 
 the contrary, I have often gone out of my own way to sustain 
 and defend him; sometimes, I fear, when silence might have 
 been the correct course." And well was he rewarded for his 
 magnanimity! No American surgeon was ever so beloved by 
 
Address. 9 
 
 his brethren, or so highly honored by them at home and abroad, 
 as he; and when, a few years since, he passed away, crowned 
 with the glory of years and fame, no surgeon was ever so re- 
 gretted throughout the length and breadth of the land. One of 
 my greatest treasures is a letter from his hand, written a short 
 time only before his death, in reply to one of mine submitting 
 the details of a case to him, and asking for his advice thereon. 
 Though full of years and infirmities, and in the sickness which 
 soon after ended his life, the dear old man wrote to me at 
 length with his own hand, paying as much attention to the 
 request of an obscure physician in the far West, as he would to 
 one of eminent position in an Eastern metropolis. 
 
 The professional jealousy of physicians is a never-failing theme 
 of amusement and vilification, on the part of nonprofessional 
 people, and even on that of other professional men towards ours. 
 It is claimed that we are absurdly jealous of each other, that 
 our requirements as to professional courtesy are too strict tO be 
 observed, and that no man can possibly live up to the full de- 
 mands of our code of ethics. But when a little thought is given 
 to this subject, the charge will be seen to be unfounded. We 
 do hold each other to very strict ethical lines, and it is necessary 
 that we should, for there is no other profession in which profes- 
 sional propriety is so easily transgressed. 
 
 The lawyer deals with courts and juries; by argumentative 
 appeals to reason, precedent and statute law he influences the 
 former; by oratorical power and, sometimes, by cunning re- 
 presentation, he gains the latter; but all his utterances are said 
 in open court, and in the hearing of the accused and his counsel. 
 Then, too, if he fails, he has the court and the jury, as well as 
 the law, to share with him the blame, and he must be a poor 
 lawyer, if he cannot show that the case was not lost through any 
 fault of his. Even the clergyman, in his professional work, deals 
 chiefly with the members of some one organization, bound by 
 many obligations to sustain him, and has no rival to contend 
 with in his immediate sphere. His hearers are sane, are healthy, 
 and are never permitted to reply to his arguments. He is su- 
 preme over all he surveys, as long as he does not offend the 
 prejudices of the influential members of his flock. But the doc- 
 tor deals with the sick, with those whose minds are warped by 
 anxiety or by disease, and with those, perhaps, whose judgments 
 are clouded by insanity. He has no judge to lay the blame upon, 
 
10 Address. 
 
 no jury to stand between himself and abuse; he must take all the 
 fault of the failure on his own shoulders, and, reversing the 
 clergyman's position, he can never reply in his own defence, 
 though open to assault from every direction. Homceopathic 
 friends, who have known of such wonderful cures, urge the 
 family to send for their pet physicians; others, no less generous, 
 have some miraculous oil, or wonder working salve, which, if 
 only tried, will be sure to do her good. Or, perhaps, some one 
 cured by Christian science of a disease which never existed, 
 prayerfully pleads with the sick one to dismiss you and send 
 for the holy healer, who will show her the way to recovery by 
 faith and prayer. Even the nurse, trained as she may be, may 
 bring advertisements of patent medicines into the sick room ; or, 
 perhaps, beguile the lonely hours by telling your patient of the 
 wonderful success of some other physician, who has never 
 shown a disposition to resent her various little schemes for 
 pleasure, profit and self-glorification. Is it any wonder, then, 
 that with all these influences to contend against, the physician 
 should hold his own brethren to a strict line of conduct, when 
 by merely lifting an eyebrow, or shrugging a shoulder, they can 
 express a doubt as to his ability to those who are eagerly 
 watching for any straw on which to cling their hope for resto- 
 ration to health? And yet all that he demands in this regard is 
 compliance with the golden rule of doing unto others as we our- 
 selves would have them do unto us. 
 
 You are going out into a hard world, and entering upon a 
 hard profession, — one that has few material rewards to bestow, 
 and reserves her favors for those who devote theaaselves most 
 strictly to her requirements. She brooks no half allegiance, — 
 permits no other pursuit to engross the time of her successful 
 aspirants — no other aim to divide the energies of those who 
 would be crowned by her. But in all ages she has stood among 
 the first of the callings of men; from the very dawn of story, 
 when the Supreme Being himself performed a surgical opera- 
 tion upon the first man's rib, from which to manufacture the 
 master-piece of creation, — down to the heroic era, when the first 
 and grandest of poets pronounced a skilful physician to be 
 worth an army, — and to the present day, when a sovereign's 
 son is a practising surgeon. Next after warriors, the ancients 
 exalted physicians among the gods. Back in the myths of my- 
 thology, before history had a beginning, we find the king-phy- 
 
Address. 11 
 
 sician, .^sculapius, who had divine honors paid to him, was 
 ranked among the gods, and gave his name to the profession of 
 which he was the earliest representative. Even in the days of 
 Rome's imperial sway, and during her most brilliant intellectual 
 epoch, her foremost orator and author, the great Cicero, de- 
 clared that " men in no way approach nearer to the gods, than in 
 giving health to their fellow-men." This was uttered 2,000 years 
 ago; but nearly 4,000 years before then, Tosorthros, the King 
 of Egypt, who gave three hundred and sixty-five days to the 
 year, was a devoted student of medicine, and recorded on the 
 monumental rocks of that primal store-house of art and science, 
 his veneration for the physician's calling. Those of you who 
 for some years will look from the sidewalk upon your more pros- 
 perous brethren in their carriages, may divest yourselves of 
 envy if you can believe that the most successful physician this 
 world ever saw, he whose name is now daily repeated by mill- 
 ions of those who worship him as the Son of God, — who had 
 power over all disease, and even over death and the grave, — 
 that he walked about the streets on his missions of mercy; had 
 no home, not even a place to lay his head; and in his most tri- 
 umphal hour had only an ass, and a colt, the foal of an ass, 
 upon which to ride through the crowds of his worshippers. 
 
 In your early years of struggle, you will need more solid 
 comfort than legend can give you, to encourage your hopes; 
 and the^history of medicine gives you this encouragement, in 
 showing you that the princes of our profession were those who 
 struggled against adversity in the first (and often many) years 
 of their practice. Cheyne, when thirty-four years old, and in 
 his second year's practice, only received three guineas during 
 the last half of that year, — but nine years afterwards he was 
 making £5,000 per annum. Chambers, of London, when thirty- 
 four years old, and in practice five years, only took in £211 in a 
 year, but seventeen years after his annual professional income 
 reached £9,000. Baillie, who, before Chambers, had the best 
 London practice, receiving £11,000 a year when that amount 
 represented five times as much as it does now, had a slow and 
 tedious march upwards, having been for twelve years a physi- 
 cian to St. George's Hospital, and for nearly twenty years a lec- 
 turer in the schools, before even moderate success began to 
 come to him. Hunter, who spent a large fortune on the splen- 
 did museum which now graces the University of Glasgow, was 
 
12 Address. 
 
 so " hard ap " one year in London, that he had to postpone 
 for two weeks the opening of his third lecture season, not hav- 
 ing money enough to pay for the usual class advertisements. 
 Sir Astley Cooper only received five guineas during his first year's 
 London practice, though he was already a lecturer on anatomy 
 and surgery. In after life, his professional income in one year 
 reached £23,000. Sir Benj. Brodie did not get into full prac- 
 tice until he had been for twenty years lecturing, practicing and 
 publishing. These are some of the instances which medical 
 annals afford, of men successful above all others of their com- 
 peers in material results as well as in fame, who came up 
 through trials and tribulations of every kind, the overcoming of 
 which gave them new strength to bear them onward in their 
 course. It is a beautiful idea, that of the ancient hero, who, 
 when pressed by his adversary to the earth, received new vigor 
 from his contact with the mother of all, and arose with greater 
 strength for the eucounter. In your future years of success, 
 in full tide flowing fast and strong, your greatest pleasure will 
 be derived from the remembrance of your early struggles; and 
 you will then see that you too arose stroager every time that 
 you seemed to have been beaten to the earth. These remem- 
 brances will be all the more delightful if you know that your 
 strength was always put forth worthily, and that your art was 
 always revered as someting never to be defiled; — that, like the 
 Mohammedan, who never holds his koran below the girdle, nor 
 touches it with unwashen hands, because of bis belief in its di- 
 vine origin, you have ever held your profession above the 
 baser things of life, have ministered in it from pure motives, 
 and never practiced it with unclean hands. 
 
 Those of you who are young have the greatest element of 
 success at your command, namely — youth — your most valuable 
 qualification. Only in youth can the ground- work of a really 
 good education be laid, and it is in your youth that you must 
 consti-uct the substructure which shall be broad enough and 
 deep enough to support the superstructure of success, and make 
 it enduring. But even iu your youth you can do much toward 
 actual success. The greatest work done in this world has been 
 done by young men, Jesus and Alexander lived each only 
 thirty-three years, but one had conquered the world by his 
 arms, and the other was to conquer it by his love and self-sac- 
 rifice. jSapoleon commanded the army of Italy at twenty-seven. 
 
Address. 18 
 
 was First-Consul at thirty, Emperor at thirty-five and King of 
 Kings at thirty-eight. Vesalius was only twenty-four when he 
 wrote his great work on anatomy; Newton was but twenty- 
 three when his observation of the falling apple gave to the world 
 the knowledge of the greatest of its physical laws. Even in our 
 profession, where a certain age has ever been considered a nec- 
 essary qualification, the younger men are daily coming into 
 greater prominence. So do not feel badly when you hear that 
 some older physician has said of you, " Oh! yes, Dr. Jones is a 
 very nice young man, a graduate of Cooper, too, a most excel- 
 lent college, stands at the head ! He will, no doubt, make a 
 very excellent physician, when he has had some few years ex- 
 perience." This kind of remark does not impress people as it 
 formerly did. 
 
 In order to attain professional success there are three very 
 necessary requirements, without each of which its accomplish- 
 ment would be miraculous. The first is that you must deserve 
 it. ** Tis not in mortals to command success, but we'll do more, 
 Sempronius, we'll deserve it." And in order that you may de- 
 serve it you must work for it. " Seest thou a man diligent in 
 his business; he shall stand before Kings, he shall not stand 
 before mean men." So wrote the wisest of Kings, and human 
 experience in every walk of life verifies his words, and teaches 
 the inexorable lesson, that it is labor and only labor, that con- 
 quers. One of our most successful surgeons, the elder Gross, 
 who was honored both in his own country and abroad as few 
 American physicians were ever honored before, has left behind 
 the following testimony to the same effect. He says: " To 
 accomplish great ends demands patience, perseverance, un- 
 swerving application, order and system, and a definite aim, — in 
 a word, talent rather than genius. The only genius I possess 
 is the genius of industry; if I have any other I have not been 
 able to discover it. The position which I have attained in my 
 profession has been achieved by hard labor, by no special intel- 
 lectual endowment, by no special gifts from God, by no special 
 favor from man, but by my own unaided efforts, continued 
 steadily and perseveringly through a long series of years." 
 
 And lastly you must have aspiration, you must aspire to suc- 
 cess, not now, not for a year, but for life; and as one difficulty 
 is overcome and others open up before you, as Alp on Alps arise 
 on your horizon, your look must be ever upward if you would 
 
14 Address. 
 
 reach the summit of the range. All higher life is constant as- 
 piration, — in morals for the good and true; in art, for the beauti- 
 ful; in science, for the unknown. 
 
 In this pursuit there is nothing too small to be neglected. The 
 most insignificant fact, if unobserved before, may be the means 
 of giving a new truth to the world, and securing for its observer 
 immortal fame. A chance word uttered by an English dairy- 
 maid in the presence of a young physician, led him into an 
 investigation. which resulted in the conquering of one fell dis- 
 ease, and gave Jenner a crown of glory which time can never 
 remove from his brow. Who could have thought that when 
 the physician Galvani observed the twitching of the frog's legs 
 as they hung on copper hooks from an iron rail, his observation 
 would in a little more than fifty years develop into the telegraph, 
 and soon afterwards into the telephone; or that the dark lines 
 seen by Frauenhofer in the spectrum would become the means 
 of determining the physical constitution of the sun, and give to 
 chemists the most delicate method of analysis ever discovered ! 
 
 The kind of success to which you should aspire is that of the 
 eminent medical man in all ages and in every community — one 
 who is thought well of and looked up to by his brethren, and 
 trusted implicitly by his patients. To be honored by your own 
 profession, as a man of learning, skill and judgment, — to be 
 beloved by your families, and to be the chosen counselor of 
 their young men and maidens, — to be the one above all others 
 to whom your clients turn for advice in time of sickness and 
 trouble, — to be eagerly sought in the hour of danger and an- 
 guish with full confidence in your power of relieving, — to have 
 the family altar laid bare before you, and its secrets intrusted 
 to your keeping, with the fullest faith in their being safely 
 guarded, — to be the hope of many, the friend of all around 
 you, — to be in a position enabling you to be benevolent and 
 charitable beyond any other vocation, imbued with the feeling 
 that to refuse your professional aid in the relief of suffering, 
 even to a personal enemy, is a disgrace, — to be taught by the 
 daily exercise of your calling those virtues which make men 
 great and good, — to succeed in these aims is true success, be- 
 yond the measure of any professional income. After every such 
 act of your professional ministration, you will find a glow in 
 your heart, which no amount of money gained by fraud and 
 deception could ever bring there. 
 
 Having these results of success, you will not want for the pe- 
 
Address. 15 
 
 cuniary part of it. " Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his 
 righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you," 
 was said of old from the Mount of Olives, and is as true in pro- 
 fessional as in spiritual life. If you seek first the standing and 
 reputation of the true physician, the material rewards will come 
 in due time; and standing at last before the Osiris of the public 
 and professional judgment, you will be able to defend your 
 career in the ancient formula, — "I have not been idle; I have not 
 been intoxicated; 1 have not told secrets; I have not defrauded; 
 I have not caused tears. I have given food to the hungry, drink 
 to the thirsty, and clothes to the naked. " And as the Osiris of the 
 ancient belief received the justified soul unto himself, and ab- 
 sorbed in into his own person — so may the purity of your pro- 
 fessional lives perhaps justify your exaltation to the throne of 
 ^sculapius, and the incorporation of your soul into the divine 
 essence, from which may emanate the souls of other physicians 
 in some future age. 
 
 Much more of counsel might be said to you who go forth 
 from these halls to-night to enter upon the commencement of 
 your professional lives; and if I were sure that you would profit 
 thereby I would gladly continue, in the hope of sparing you the 
 consequences of some future stumble. But it is a recognized 
 law that ' ' neither nations nor individuals profit much by the 
 experience of others," — and so it is with physicians, each one 
 must go through his experience for himself, " learning through 
 suffering, succeeding through blundering," and attaining to the 
 calmness of wisdom through the pains of folly. Hence I will 
 now take leave of you, and in bidding you farewell, I must give 
 voice to the hope that though we separate here as students and 
 teachers, there are cords now extending from this room into 
 your hearts, which in your after lives shall bind your teachers to 
 you and you to them. May you fare well indeed in all you under- 
 take, every one of you; and may your lives be as serviceable to 
 humanity and as honorable to yourselves as your most elevated 
 impulses can desire. This must be, if in the darker hours, of 
 your early struggles you will keep before you the noble words 
 so often quoted, but never quoted too often, in which the first 
 of American poets has said that 
 
 " Lives of great men all remind us 
 We can make our lives sublime; 
 And departing, leave behind us, 
 Footprints on the sands of time. 
 
16 Address. 
 
 Footprints that perhaps another 
 
 Sailing o'er life's solemn main, 
 A forlorn and ship-wrecked brother, 
 
 Seeing, shall take heart again. 
 
 Let us, then, be up and doing. 
 
 With a heart for any fate; 
 Still achieving, still pursuing. 
 
 Learn to labor and to wait." 
 
 And, if laboring and waiting in this spirit, you will not wait 
 in vain, for all other things being equal, success will surely 
 come to each one of you. But, when success does come, forget 
 not those by whom it came, and with grateful hearts to all the 
 friends of your struggling years, continue in the paths which I 
 have tried to point out, letting your " light so shine before men, 
 that they, seeing your good works, may glorify" the noble pro- 
 fession of which you are a member, and honor the college whose 
 diploma you bear. 
 
ADDRESS 
 
 By rev. JACOB VOORSANGER, D.D. 
 
 Ladies and Gentlemen or the Gkaduating Class : — It is claimed 
 that a Jew becomes a Gentile in bat one spot on earth, the 
 Mormon-ridden Territory of Utah. It may likewise be said that 
 a school devoted to the study of medicine is the only one where 
 a clergyman becomes a layman. As a layman, therefore, I esteem 
 it an honor and a great privilege to address you upon this, the 
 most important evening of your lives. Important to such an 
 extent, that I fancy you must be profoundly impressed with the 
 solemnity of the moment. The school is about to close its 
 doors upon you. Tour trial is about to commence. For no 
 man is truly tried until he has been weighed in the balance of 
 public opinion, and has not been found wanting. The opened 
 door must reveal to you the seething mass of human beings, 
 all impelled by the laws of force and motion, some beginning 
 the tramp through life, some hurrying to that eternal bourne, 
 whose veil cannot be pierced even by the physician's experi- 
 enced eye. Tour place in this world of human beings, what is 
 it ? Tour station amongst the children of this generation, must 
 needs be one of eminence, because it will bring you peril and 
 labor, and very little enjoyment. The priests of humanity do 
 not distinguish themselves in the banqueting hall. The most 
 eminent servants of suffering men are those whose lives are 
 devoted to the greatest toil. Tour place, therefore, being one 
 that will bring you in contact with human weakness, rather 
 than with human strength, it may not be amiss, gentlemen, to 
 supplement your knowledge of medicine with a few considera- 
 tions, which may induce you to believe that others, beside your- 
 selves, have a high and exalted opinion of the profession you 
 have adopted as your life's work. 
 
 There is no profession on earth, that requires so much actual 
 knowledge joined to strength of will and character as the pro- 
 fession of the physician. Notice, that I do not use the usual 
 term profession of medicine. Time and circumstances, the eter- 
 nal progress of things and the increased refinement of humani- 
 
18 Address. 
 
 ty's perceptions have made you something higher, greater and 
 holier thau mere doctors of medicine, that is to say disciples of 
 a certain branch of mental experience. In the application of 
 that mental experience to the needs and sufferings of men lies 
 the greater mission, the more useful profession. You graduate 
 as doctors of medicine, you will be judged by your ability as 
 physicians. To-day it is your knowledge theoretical that ena- 
 bles you to pass out from here provided with a sheepskin; to- 
 morrow it will not be so much your knowledge as your skill to 
 apply it, not so much your diploma as your character, not so 
 much your fine minds as your sympathetic hearts that will win 
 you the plaudits of humanity. To-day the question is whether 
 you have satisfied the programmes and schedules provided by 
 the Faculty for your instruction. To-morrow you enter the 
 greater school of the two, the school bounded by no walls, 
 limited by no horizon. Its amphitheater is the bedside of every 
 patient, and you, the professors, will have as audience the entire 
 host of sufferers who shall be confided to your care. To-day 
 ends the preliminary investigation, to-morrow begins your trial. 
 The judge sits everywhere; his name is public opinion. As you 
 have merited the approbation of your teachers, may you like- 
 wise exhibit those traits of character which we would fain be- 
 lieve have impelled you to enter the classic precincts of your 
 profession. Then you will be adjudged veritable priests of 
 humanity, your place will be in the high places, and your re- 
 ward will be sure to come. 
 
 You may congratulate yourselves, gentlemen, that the world 
 to-day has an adequate appreciation of the importance of your 
 profession. It has not ever been thus. As a mental experience, 
 the science of medicine has been compelled to fight its way to 
 the front. The world is slow to recognize the eternal principles 
 of truth. That which has been appeals stronger to the conser- 
 vatism of man than the mere indication of what will be. The 
 animalism in man impels him, alligator-like, to sleep away half of 
 his life and with it half of his advantages. The growth of sci- 
 ence is a record of the pertinacity of man's conservatism. New 
 ideas are always suspected, because they indicate changes in 
 the polity and economy of human action; and man has rarely 
 been fond of new ideas. Applying this fact to that branch of sci- 
 ence you are to demonstrate with your skill before the world, it 
 will surely be to your advantage to turn now and then from 
 
Address. 19 
 
 your busy toil and institute a comparative study of medicine to- 
 day, and medicine in former times. You will learn, then, that 
 the world itself has to some extent changed its attitude toward 
 science. Formerly the herald of a new era was hooted by his 
 contemporaries; his reward came after his death. To-day the 
 world treats new ideas as a child his toys; one after the other 
 are cast away to make room for something new, something more 
 glittering. There is perhaps nothing extraordinary in this. It 
 means that we multiply experiences faster, much faster than our 
 fathers have done. Kepler and Galileo are types of their day. 
 as Edison is of ours. Medicine has not escaped this evolution- 
 ary tendency. Forty years ago an anaesthetic was laughed at. 
 They used to heal wounds by pouring boiling oil on them or 
 cauterizing them. They healed fever by bleeding, and a large 
 category of ills was generalized under the name of distemper. 
 The physician of old had an easy time of it. What he princi- 
 pally needed was some knowledge of herbs, to wear a black 
 gown and to look wise. To be sure, it would be the very height 
 of ingratitude to use this pleasantry in any other but a compara- 
 tive way. For after all, the degree of scientific progress and 
 improvement depends mainly upon the number of experiences 
 that have contributed to make progress possible. And these 
 experiences are not born with us. They are the legacy of anter- 
 ior times. The incantation of every ancient priest, the formula 
 of every ancient herbalist contributed to the materia medica of 
 Hippocratic times. Human judgment has never failed to ex- 
 pend its keenest perceptions upon the sick and the suffering. 
 Medicine is older than Hippocrates, surgery is rather a science 
 of necessity than an art. The great imperative of all applied 
 knowledge, necessity, has brought forth the great healers of 
 the human race. Nature which gives birth to the infinite variety 
 of living things creates likewise the ills to which flesh is heir, 
 but like abeneficient mother she creates the remedy as well as 
 the evil, and places in the human mind the perception to remove 
 the evil, the power to restore physical and mental harmony as 
 well as the faculty to suffer. The degree of knowledge of these 
 ills is on a par with the relative power to remove them. It may, 
 therefore, be set down as fact that in no branch of human ex- 
 perience the relative development thereof is so much governed 
 by necessity as in that branch denominated as medicine. It is, 
 therefore, the oldest and most useful of all sciences. We 
 
20 Address. 
 
 can dispense with much that applied science has called into 
 existence. We could illuminate the darkness of our nights with 
 an oil lamp and be as complacent as ever; we could travel across 
 the continent in the old, slow way and be happy still; we could 
 afford to dispense with telephonic communications and yet suc- 
 cessfully discharge our social and professional duties, but in 
 view of that great and dread necessity of hearkening to the 
 voice of mother nature in her dispensations of the destiny of 
 humanity, the least retrogression or reaction in the applied sci- 
 ence of medicine would be a crime for which there can be neither 
 pardon nor atonement. In view thereof how marvelous it is 
 that humanity has been as conservative toward that providential 
 science as toward every other experience calculated to widen 
 the horizon of human knowledge. There seems to be a chasm 
 between the golden age of Hippocrates and the era when mod- 
 ern medicine emanated from the scholasticism of mediaeval 
 times. The Greek physician was a courted philosopher, the 
 favored of the gods, the inspired dreamer, to whom in visions of 
 night, remedies were revealed that were more readily adopted 
 by his patients than the advice the priesthood bestowed by 
 direction of their oracles. The Jewish priest, who was likewise 
 the healer of his constituents, was, I fancy, more courted for his 
 power to heal leprosy, than for his knowledge of the mysteries 
 he thought to behold in the curling smoke as it ascended from 
 the sacrificial altar. There may be a psychological or perhaps a 
 social reason for this chasm. The G-reeks and Romans, the 
 Egyptians and the Jews, were the exponents of an almost per- 
 fect social organization. In a nearly permanent state of peace, 
 attended by the comforts that make life pleasant, humanity more 
 readily detects its ailments and turns with more confidence to 
 anyone who has the power of healing them. These are the 
 times when the school is asked to respond to the voice of the 
 world, and science is commanded to shield humanity with its 
 protecting raiment. But in mediaeval times humanity stood on 
 a volcano. No one could tell when the crater would begin to 
 emit its destructive substance. No voice had come to it from 
 antiquity; it was as if the spirit of God had never breathed on 
 the face of the deep. In Byzantium that voice had been sup- 
 pressed, and when it spoke again it spoke as from a grave. Con- 
 stantine and the princes who came after him, dominated by 
 ecclesiastical influence, killed the aspirations of the wise men of 
 
Address. 21 
 
 their generation, and directly caused the lamentable ignorance 
 of the middle ages. Listen a moment to Draper: " The Ascle- 
 pions were closed, the schools of philosophy prohibited, the 
 libraries dispersed or destroyed, learning branded as magic or 
 punished as treason, philosophers driven into exile and as a 
 class exterminated, when it became apparent that a void had 
 been created which it was incumbent on the victors — priests — to 
 fill. Among the great prelates, who was there to stand in the 
 place of those men whose achievements had glorified the human 
 race ? Who was to succeed to Archimedes, Hipparchus, Euclid, 
 Herophilus, Erastosthenes ? Who to Plato and Aristotle ? The 
 quackeries of miracle cure, shrine cure, relic cure, were des- 
 tined to eclipse the genius of Hippocrates and nearly two thou- 
 sand years to intervene between Archimedes and Newton, nearly 
 1,700 between Hipparchus and Kepler." It is a true picture. 
 Our medisBval ancestors had no knowledge of antiquity and its 
 blessings, for all the experiences of that age were bottled up in 
 the cloisters and the churches. When they turned their faces 
 to the East again, the clouds receded from their vision. The 
 germs of social and scientific life that the crusaders brought 
 with them were planted in European soil, where slowly, very 
 slowly, they took root. And still there are four centuries be- 
 tween them and Paracelsus, and two centuries more between 
 Paracelsus and Harvey, since whose time, I presume, the prog- 
 ress of the science has been uninterrupted. We find then, 
 truly, that for almosb two thousand years the glorious science you 
 follow as your mistress has been permitted to remain at a stand- 
 still. Is it not a sad testimony of the enslavement of the human 
 mind for all these years ? For all these reasons I emphasize once 
 more that you may congratulate yourselves of becoming the 
 servants of humanity in the 19th century. To-day science stands 
 revealed in all her beauty, and she fears neither the domination 
 of priest-craft nor the blasting touch of ignorance. To-day, in 
 her triumphant march through the towns and villages where 
 men do congregate, the soft melody of her strains is no longer 
 confounded with the tinkling of a fool's bells, of that very fool 
 who followed in her wake, and whose occupation is gone forever. 
 To-day her votaries are called blessed; the prison no longer 
 stores them, the pyre no longer claims them. To-day wisdom 
 sits in the high places of the earth, and those who pursue her 
 ways are the real agents of a benign divinity. And you, gentle- 
 
22 Address. 
 
 men, you, who are to-night called to sacred service on behalf of 
 humanity and in the service of science, be sure that you hearken 
 to the voice of your mother. You have learned much; she tells 
 you that her knowledge is inexhaustible. Your actual experi- 
 ence is about to begin. If you now confess yourself content 
 with the moiety of information you have gathered, ifc would have 
 been better had you never commenced. For there is a greater 
 curse in our modern world, to my mind, than a narrow-minded 
 priest, and that is a narrow-minded, unfinished, uninformed 
 physician who has not kept abreast of the times. Your profes- 
 sion and your duty both demand that all the days of your lives 
 you shall remain delvers in the gold mines of science, for knowl- 
 edge is power, and since power is given you, you must have 
 knowledge. Then, from this place shall go forth to-night apos- 
 tles of humanity, whose names shall shine lustrously with the 
 merit that crowns their careers, and on the entablatures of 
 future renown their names shall be registered as worthy scions 
 of a noble race of benefactors to humanity. 
 
 And then, as I have had the honor of observing already, your 
 duty lies not exclusively in the gathering of experience, in the 
 acquisition of skill, or in the opening of new avenues of truth; 
 it lies, perhaps, in a greater degree in the acquisition of those 
 personal qualities that stamp the physician as a great man. Your 
 mission is to remove the sting of suffering. You will come in con- 
 tact with humanity divested of all the attributes of strength. You 
 will meet men, the strongest of whom will ask to lean upon you as 
 upon a staff of support, women who will look upon you as their 
 deliverers, fathers and mothers who next to their God will call 
 you the Savior of their children. You will enter homesteads dis- 
 turbed by the presence of the dread angel of death; your eye 
 alone will see the glitter of that ominous sword that cuts the 
 thread of life; your power alone, under the dispensation of that 
 omniscient spirit that moves you, may suspend the fatal descent 
 of that sword. You will meet humanity in tears and in pain, 
 you will enter hospitals where side by side suffering men give 
 witness of the large catalogue of human ills; you may be called 
 upon to stand, like Aaron the High Priest of Israel, between 
 the living and the dead, and stay the plague that may be wafted 
 on pestilential wings from distant climes. You may, God give 
 that you may not, stand between lines mowed down by the scythe 
 of death, men shot on the field, their life arrested by shot and 
 
Address. 28 . 
 
 bomb and cannon ball, and you standing to protest against the 
 destructive power of man himself. When these tests come to 
 yoU; what will you do ? Gentlemen, ask your Maker on bended 
 knees to give you the greatest strength, the greatest endurance 
 that can come to you. If you have it not, stand back ! Hu- 
 manity will not be served by weaklings. And then, look to the 
 reward that will come to you. You are bread-winners, it is true, 
 but so are we all. But God help us, if our life were but a strug- 
 gle for bread. Think of the greater reward that will come to you, 
 the strengthening pressure of hands, whose owners you have 
 snatched from death, the grateful look of sufferers whose wounds 
 you have healed, the benisons of loving mothers whose babes 
 you have saved, the approbation of your own conscience that 
 the task was well done ! And then again, you are expected to 
 set an example in still another direction. To inspire confidence 
 you must be better than your neighbor. You must at least try 
 to be. Your truest claim on the confidence of your patients 
 will be established by the loftiness of your own character. The 
 world is not very eager to confide its most sacred interests to 
 men whose character is not above reproach. Therefore, whilst 
 you will be the exponents of science, you must be at the same 
 time the exponents of the highest conception of morality, the 
 demonstrators not alone of the ailments of men, but of the high- 
 est duties of citizenship, the cultivators of all that is truly noble 
 in our time and generation. Thus equipped, your strength will 
 be great, your light will shine as the noon-day sun, and your 
 mother will bless you, for that her sons have proved worthy of 
 the trust she reposed in them. 
 
 And now, gentlemen, permit me, as an humble layman, to con- 
 gratulate you upon the distinction that has come to you, and to 
 wish you a full measure of success in your undertakings. An 
 ancient maxim sayth the day is short, and the work is much. 
 'Tis so indeed. What a short span of life is ours — how immense 
 the measure of our work ! 
 
 And it is sometimes discouraging to think that all human 
 effort, be it ever so great, ends in the grave. We leave nothing 
 but our experiences behind us, to bless those who will come 
 after us. Be it so, gentlemen. Go forth to your duties, to 
 battle with the arch-enemy of man — death — armed with the 
 consciousness, that the greatest glory of a well-spent life is the 
 immortality that has its seat in the grateful memories of man- 
 
24 Address. 
 
 kind,— that the greatest punishment to idle, unaspiring men is 
 not death, but oblivion, dismissal from the attention and memory 
 of a generation eager to distinguish the brave, the true and the 
 good. 
 
 But can the wiles of art, the grasp of power, 
 Snatch the rich relics of a well spent hour ? 
 These, when the trembling spirit wings her flight. 
 Pour round her path a stream of living light. 
 And gild those pure and perfect realms of rest. 
 Where virtue triumphs, and her sons are blest ! 
 
^^5^ «OKRO>5^BO 
 
 14 D^ ^HlCtt BO 
 
 
 u;!^kls due on^lS^^^^Sat^ 
 This book IS ^^^ ^^, ^X(it Tu iw""^j^ 
 
 ot 
 
 ,ed books. 
 
 G-^S^-^ 
 
 l3oi''"'^rWeV 
 
 (jtoisio) 
 
Gaylord Bros. 
 
 Makers 
 
 Syracuse, N. Y, 
 
 PAT. JAN. 21, 1908 
 
 ^514aG 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
■•'i:???'!^