In the midst of so much theory, and so many new and surprising discoveries, it would have been wonderful indeed if the science of medicine had kept free from innovation. It did not: the new chemistry, with all its formidable apparatus of hard words, was introduced, and thus the study of the science, already very difficult, was rendered still more so. In passing this censure upon the modern _nomenclature_, as it is called, I am sensible that I must rank with the minority; nevertheless, I have the satisfaction of finding that I am not altogether singular. Dr. Ferriar, in the preface to his second volume, complains, “that, with every attempt towards the formation of a system, new applications of words are introduced, which, though desirable in the art of poetry, are very inconvenient in pathological books, especially when this is done to give an air of novelty to old theories and observations. For, between the ancient language, which practitioners cannot entirely reject, and the new dialect, which they cannot wholly adopt, the style of medical books is reduced to a kind of jargon, that the author himself may possibly understand, but which his readers find it very difficult to unriddle. Hence results a neglect of medical literature, and hence the pernicious habit of regarding as new whatever has not appeared in the publications of the last half century.” To the same or a similar purpose, in the preface to his first volume, he cites Quintilian. [66]“Some have such a multitude of vain words, that, while they are afraid of speaking like other people, by a kind of affected elegance, they confound every thing they have to say with their immense loquacity.” [66] Est etiam in quibusdam turba inanium verborum, qui dum communem loquendi morem reformidant, ducti specie nitoris, circumeunt omnia, copiosa loquacitate, quæ dicere volunt.