“I once passed in front of the house in which one of my patients had died shortly before. He did not die quite suddenly, but had been ill for some time, and I was called in to prescribe for him. He happened to be well off, and after I had visited him once or twice, and he got no better, a great crowd of his female neighbours and relations came—for the rich are always surrounded by their relatives and pretended friends—and said compassionately: ‘This poor sufferer is still in bed, and shall we keep silence? Can that man (pointing to me) be expected to restore him to health again? Where are his horses, and where is his carriage? Let us call in some better and more skilful men, and let them have a consultation about the case!’ Better and more skilful men were summoned; they arrived and examined the patient. They then nodded their wise heads, and prescribed a new medicine, which, having been fetched from the apothecary's shop, was given to the patient. He took it once or twice, and was soon after ‘gathered to his fathers.’” Here follows a long and humorous description of the author's meeting with the soul of his recently departed patient. The soul told him the story of its many adventures during its long earthly career; how it frequently passed over from one body into another, and how it had once also been transferred from the body of an ass into that of a physician. In that capacity, the soul informed the author that it had prospered greatly, not on account of its cleverness or ability, but because it had acted on certain practical rules which it recommended the author to follow in his profession. The soul then goes on to explain what they are:— “1. Powder your hair white, and place on the table of your study a human skull and some curious skeletons of the animal world. Those coming to you for medical advice will then say that your hair must surely have turned white through overwork in your profession, and through your protracted studies in the domain of natural science. “2. Fill your library with large-sized books that are richly bound in red and gold. No matter whether you ever open and read them or not, people will always have a high opinion of your great acquirements and wisdom. “3. Sell and pawn everything for the sake of having a carriage of your own. Your patients may die right and left through your errors of judgment, yet the fact of having your carriage waiting outside their doors will shield you from adverse criticism. “4. If called to a patient you must pay less attention to him and his malady than to those persons who are round about him. On leaving the sick-room assume a grave face, and say that the case is a very critical one. Should the patient die then you will have hinted at his death; but if, on the other hand, he gets well again, his relations and friends will naturally attribute his recovery to your extraordinary medical skill.