There are some words in the dead languages which it is almost impossible to put into English without, in a great measure, losing their meaning because they contain so much in themselves; they are so difficult to define. So there is one little word in the English language that contains so much in itself that it is impossible to define it in a few words, and after using many you feel that you have only sailed around it without getting at the central and most important part of it—that word is _tact_. But it is the want of that which has consigned some of the brightest and noblest minds that I have known to oblivion. I call to mind just now one of the best read and most highly cultured and gifted men that the medical profession of Brooklyn has ever known. He lived and died among us, unappreciated except by the few who knew him best, little sought after by those who needed balm for their diseases, which he was better able to apply than most of his companions, and with scanty maintenance, while medical sky-rockets about him were riding into lucrative practices. The suffering continued to suffer, when, if they had only known it, skilled and efficient help was at hand, in a man who did not know how to so bear himself as to win the confidence of the community. Had he possessed a little tact his name would have been known to the world. I want to say to each one of you, consider well if you propose to follow this arduous calling, pause and consider whether you really feel that it is your vocation, and feel equal to its physical and mental demands. An ideal to strive after is good for us all. I will lay before you to-night one that was realized in the history of a friend who is now in a better and happier clime than this, and whom I would be glad to have each one of you strive to emulate. Some years ago, before, as far as I know, there were any trained nurses in this city, I was asked to go to see a lady in a neighboring village, who had been confined to her bed for more than a year, and was supposed to be incurable. A year from that time she was able to be about, and six months later she determined to devote her time to the care of the sick poor. She did so, and I never had any one who would, or could, take better care of every case that fell to her charge. I always felt that, as far as human skill and strength could do it, my directions would be carried out to the very letter. Her last case was that of a little girl who had been burned over about three-quarters of her body, a degree of burning usually considered fatal; but in this case it did not prove so; and for months this noble woman dressed this suffering child, and would let no one else do it. Little Tina dreaded to have any one else touch her. The child was almost well, and this good woman was just finishing her morning dressing of the burn, when she suddenly fell back and expired. The soldier died at her post of duty.