One of the nervine preparations that he gave me is manufactured in Paris, and I have heard jealous physicians say that no one here knows the precise formula by which it is compounded; which is, it appears, a technical violation of the rules of the Medical Society, and consequently "unprofessional." If Dr. Chambers cures his patients by the help of this remedy, and other physicians let theirs perish, his course is certainly preferable from a layman's point of view. He has proved the efficacy of the article. Whether it be composed of one thing or another, or whatever be the proportions of the mixture, is of little interest to the one it benefits and less still to the victims of more scrupulous practitioners, after they have passed from earth for want of it. There is a great deal of nonsense in the medical profession and the establishment of set rules to meet all cases is bound to result in disaster. I asked Dr. Chambers to re-examine me in a general way, and to say, when he had finished, whether he saw any reason why I should not go at once on an ocean voyage. He devoted the better part of an hour to this task and ended with the declaration that the sooner I went the better my plan was. "I have urged you before to take a long journey to some interesting place," he reminded me. "At this time of year a warm country is better than a frigid or even a temperate one. You will thus secure a natural action of the skin on account of the perspiration, much better than any Turkish bath, which is at best only a makeshift. You will be able to partake of tropical fruits in their best state, fresh from the trees and vines. Your mind will be stimulated in a healthful manner. The voyage will do you great good. All I insist on now is that you do not go alone. While you have made immense progress you must run no risks. A bright, cheerful companion to fill in a dull hour is very necessary. And, although I believe the year for which I interdicted some of your habits has about expired, it does not follow that you are to plunge into excesses. Use the common sense you have been acquiring. Take all your pleasures sparingly. Still consider yourself a convalescent. I don't want you coming here again in the shape you were last winter." I assured him that there was no danger; that I had learned my lesson well; and that I would make a sensible use of my liberty. Then, when he had added that I need carry very little medicine--and that only for emergencies--and made me promise to write him once in a month or so, in a friendly way, I grasped his hand warmly and took my leave. If he had been a woman I would certainly have kissed him. He will never know, unless he happens to read these lines, how near my eyes came to filling with grateful tears.