I hope these Reflections will not be misinterpreted, as if I endeavour’d after some little Hypothetical Notion as a wedge to make way for any Design of mine; they will appear but too real to any that have been Conversant with this Distemper. I could wish it was all Hypothesis and Fiction, and that these Medicines would perform all that is expected from ’em, but then, to what must we attribute the Ravage this Disease makes, which is known to all, to be a Melancholy truth? Not to the want of _Balsamicks_ certainly, for both Poor and Rich, can make a shift to procure enough of ’em. The Lozenge and Linctus are in every Bodies hand, but this must be attributed to their leading People, to take a wrong Aim, to level at the Symptom instead of the Disease, these specious Medicines induce ’em to be intent on the Cure of that, which is most Troublesome _viz._ the Cough, when they should lay the Ax to the Root of the Tree, be more intent on the Cure of the Habit of Body, and not let it be overrun with a Poisonous Acrimony. I am confident Legions of the Dead might have been above Ground, if they had but conceiv’d the Fallacy of these means, if they had but stuck close to the proper Quantities of any one good Alterative, they might have Plung’d out of their several Maladies; but by placing all their Hopes in things directed to the Cough, they have far’d like the Dog, which bites at the Stone that is thrown at him, instead of Biting him which threw it, not knowing that such diligent plying of these Medicines is a kind of Embalming a Man before his Death, and an Ill boding Presage that in a little time, he will be in a Condition to be Embalmed after it.