The great black-winged angel was being desperately beaten back, however,
by the rising generation of doctors, young, hearty, industrious,
ambitious graduates of the American universities. How bitterly
vaccination was fought even by ministers of the Gospel. Small wits
caricatured it, but what a world-wide human benediction it proved. I
remember being in Edinburgh a few weeks after the death of Sir James Y.
Simpson, and his photograph was in every shop window, in honour of the
man who first used chloroform as an anæsthetic. In former days they
tried to dull pain by using the hasheesh of the Arabs. Dr. Simpson's wet
sponge was a blessing put into the hands of the surgeon. The millennium
for the souls of men will be when the doctors have discovered the
millennium for their bodies.

Dr. Bush used to say in his valedictory address to the students of the
medical college, "Young gentlemen, you have two pockets: a large pocket
and a small pocket. The large pocket is for your annoyances and your
insults, the small pocket for your fees."

In March, 1888, we lost a man who bestowed a new dispensation upon the
dumb animals that bear our burdens--Henry Bergh. Abused and ridiculed
most of his life, he established a great work for the good men and women
of the ensuing centuries to carry out. Long may his name live in our
consecrated memory. In the same month, from Washington to Toledo, the
long funeral train of Chief Justice White steamed across country,
passing multitudes of uncovered heads bowed in sorrowing respect, while
across the sea men honoured his distinguished memory.

What a splendid inheritance for those of us who must pass out of the
multitude without much ado, if we are not remembered among the bores of