It is said that most rules have their exceptions; and it is even affirmed by some, that the exceptions strengthen the rule. If this is so, perhaps the rule of Pres. L. may stand; though to many it seems at first exceedingly sweeping. One known exception to its universality may be worth mentioning, on which the reader may make his own comments, and from which he may draw his own inferences. I was so fortunate for one, as to attain to the eminence he mentions, without killing any thing _like_ half a dozen patients; at least, so far as I know. And yet, as I verily fear and most honestly confess, I _did_ kill one or two. Not, of course, with malice aforethought, for they were among my very best friends; and one in particular was a near and highly valued neighbor. Let me give you a few details concerning the latter. It may serve as a lesson of instruction, as well as a confession. He was about six feet high, with large vital organs; and though by no means possessed of a strong constitution, yet in virtue of a most rigid temperance, generally healthy. He was, however, subjected to the habitual influences of a most miserable cookery. Indeed, I never knew worse. Seldom, if ever, did he pass a single week--I might even say a single day--without having his alimentary organs irritated to subinflammation by more or fewer of what Dr. Dunglison, the physiologist, would call "rebellious" mixtures. I do not wonder, in truth, that he occasionally sickened. The wonder with me is, that he did not sicken and die long before he did. And though the blow that finished his perilous mortal career, was doubtless inflicted by my own hand, I do not hesitate to say that his "housekeeper" had nearly half destroyed him before I was called. It was a midsummer night, when the messenger came across an intervening field, and aroused me from my slumbers with the intelligence that Mr. M. was very sick, and wanted to have me come and see him immediately. Although it was fully twelve o'clock, and I had been so fully occupied during the preceding evening, that I had but just crawled into bed and begun my slumbers, I was instantly on my feet, and in about twelve minutes at the bedside of the sick man. He had been affected with a bowel complaint, as it appeared, for several days, during which his wife, who was one of those conceited women who know so much, in their own estimation, that nobody can teach them any thing, had dosed him with various things, such as were supposed to be good for the blood, or the stomach, among which was brandy and loaf sugar. Now his bowels, though they were inflamed, might have borne the sugar; but the brandy was a little too much for them. They had endured it for a time, it is true, but had at length yielded, and were in a worse condition than when she began her treatment. And what was worse, her alcoholic doses, frequently "inflicted," had heated the circulatory apparatus, and even the whole system, into a burning fever.