too much. I almost blush when I think of myself as describing the
eight several facets on two slender processes of the palate bone, or the
seven little twigs that branch off from the minute tympanic nerve, and I
wonder whether my excellent colleague feels in the same way when he
pictures himself as giving the constitution of neurin, which as he and I
know very well is that of the hydrate of trimethyle-oxethyle-ammonium, or
the formula for the production of alloxan, which, though none but the
Professors and older students can be expected to remember it, is C10 H4
N4 O6+ 2HO, NO5=C8 H4 N2 O10+2CO2+N2+NH4 O, NO5.

I can bear the voice of some rough iconoclast addressing the Anatomist
and the Chemist in tones of contemptuous indignation: "What is this stuff
with which you are cramming the brains of young men who are to hold the
lives of the community in their hands? Here is a man fallen in a fit;
you can tell me all about the eight surfaces of the two processes of the
palate bone, but you have not had the sense to loosen that man's
neck-cloth, and the old women are all calling you a fool? Here is a
fellow that has just swallowed poison. I want something to turn his
stomach inside out at the shortest notice. Oh, you have forgotten the
dose of the sulphate of zinc, but you remember the formula for the
production of alloxan!"

"Look you, Master Doctor,--if I go to a carpenter to come and stop a leak
in my roof that is flooding the house, do you suppose I care whether he
is a botanist or not? Cannot a man work in wood without knowing all
about endogens and exogens, or must he attend Professor Gray's Lectures
before he can be trusted to make a box-trap? If my horse casts a shoe,
do you think I will not trust a blacksmith to shoe him until I have made
sure that he is sound on the distinction between the sesquioxide and the
protosesquioxide of iron?"

--But my scientific labor is to lead to useful results by and by, in the
next generation, or in some possible remote future.--

"Diavolo!" as your Dr. Rabelais has it,--answers the iconoclast,--"what
is that to me and my colic, to me and my strangury? I pay the Captain of
the Cunard steamship to carry me quickly and safely to Liverpool, not to
make a chart of the Atlantic for after voyagers! If Professor Peirce
undertakes to pilot me into Boston Harbor and runs me on Cohasset rocks,
what answer is it to tell me that he is Superintendent of the Coast
Survey? No, Sir! I want a plai