ound
by his own rules, the professor replied, that he wished to act
according to his own precepts, but he had "_such a devil of an
appetite_," that he could not do so.

Mr. Abernethy had a great aversion to any hint being thrown out that
he _cured_ a patient of complaint. Whenever an observation to this
effect was made, he would say, "I never cured any body." The meaning
of this is perfectly obvious. His system was extremely wise and
rational, although, as he expressed himself to ignorant persons, it
was not calculated to excite confidence. He despised all the humbug of
the profession, and its arts to deceive and mislead patients and their
friends, and always told the plain truth without reserve. He knew that
the term _cure_ is inapplicable, and only fit to be used by quacks,
who gain their livelihood by what they call cures, which they promise
the patient to effect. Mr. Abernethy felt that nature was only to be
_seconded_ in her efforts, by an art which is derived from scientific
principles and knowledge, and that it is not the physician or surgeon
who cures, but _nature_, whom the practitioner assists by art.
Weak-minded persons are apt to run after cures, and thus nostrums and
quacks are in vogue, as if the living human system was as immutable in
its properties as a piece of machinery, and could be remedied when it
went wrong as the watchmaker repairs the watch with certainty, or the
coachmaker mends the coach. No one appreciated more highly the value
of medicine as a science than Mr. Abernethy; but he knew that it
depended upon observation and a deep knowledge of the laws and
phenomena of vital action, and that it was not a mere affair of guess
and hazard in its application, nor of a certain tendency as to its
effects.

This disposition of mind led the philosopher to disregard prescribing
for his patients frequently, as he had less faith in the prescription
than in the general system to be adopted by the patient in his habits
and diet. He has been known accordingly, when asked if he did not
intend to prescribe, to disappoint the patient by saying, "Oh, if you
_wish_ it, I'll prescribe for you, certainly." Instead of asking a
number of questions, us to symptoms, &c., he usually contented himself
with a general dissertation, or lecture and advice as to the
management of the constitution, to which local treatment was always a
secondary consideration with him altogether.

When patients related long accounts of their