Would you be ethical in giving the best that is in you to your patients, you must give ungrudgingly of your time. This may again seem a useless piece of advice, and yet almost all of us are familiar with the man whose motto is "Veni, Vidi, Vici"--"I came, I saw, I conquered." This intuitive diagnostician is by no means a myth. The man who comes in a rush and goes in a rush, and who, with pencil in one hand and prescription pad in the other, feels the pulse while the thermometer is under the tongue; who sees at a glance, without necessity of personal or family history or of physical examination, just what is the matter, and who, giving four or five prescriptions, rushes out, trusting that something in his shotgun therapy may hit the enemy. Perhaps the next day he prescribes four or five more remedies or combination of remedies, and should the patient begin to improve, prides himself that he has made and confirmed a diagnosis by his experimental therapy. Is it necessary for me to say that no ethical man with any regard for the rights of his patients and his obligation to his profession can really practice medicine in this manner? The plea that you are too busy to give the proper time to your cases is no justification for your neglect. Anything less than a careful inquiry into family and personal history, followed by a painstaking and thorough physical examination, is unjust to your patient and unjust to yourself. No ethical man can give the best that is in him by doing less than this. If you haven't the time to do your work thoroughly, make a clean breast of the matter and take fewer cases. But you will say that a man, even in large practice, cannot afford to give any of it up. He needs every dollar that honestly comes his way, and to say that he hasn't time for his work is only another way of throwing practice into the hands of a rival. This is, indeed, a proposition hard to solve, as most of us do need every dollar that honestly comes our way; but if our work is only half done, if we have neglected some important point in diagnosis, and thereby omitted some equally important measure in treatment, have our dollars been honestly earned? Let us start out with and carry in mind this axiom of a truly ethical life, that success in medicine cannot be measured by commercial success; that, while no sensible man can neglect the business side of his vocation, or refuse to demand and collect just compensation for his service, such compensation cannot be measured in dollars and cents alone; that a good conscience and whole-souled devotion to duty, giving ungrudgingly of the very best that is in you to those that have confided in you, will be your very best asset when the final account is made up.