If this harmony should ever be threatened, I could wish that every impatient and irritable member of the profession would read that beautiful, that noble Preface to the “Letters,” addressed to John Collins Warren.  I know nothing finer in the medical literature of all time than this Prefatory Introduction.  It is a golden prelude, fit to go with the three great Prefaces which challenge the admiration of scholars, —­Calvin’s to his Institutes, De Thou’s to his History, and Casaubon’s to his Polybius,—­not because of any learning or rhetoric, though it is charmingly written, but for a spirit flowing through it to which learning and rhetoric are but as the breath that is wasted on the air to the Mood that warms the heart.

Of a similar character is this short extract which I am permitted to make from a private letter of his to a dear young friend.  He was eighty-three years old at the time of writing it.

“I have not loved everybody whom I have known, but I have striven to see the good points in the characters of all men and women.  At first I must have done this from something in my own nature, for I was not aware of it, and yet was doing it without any plan, when one day, sixty years ago, a friend whom I loved and respected said this to me, ’Ah, James, I see that you are destined to succeed in the world, and to make friends, because you are so ready to see the good point in the characters of those you meet.’”

I close this imperfect notice of some features in the character of this most honored and beloved of physicians by applying to him the words which were written of William Heberden, whose career was not unlike his own, and who lived to the same patriarchal age.

“From his early youth he had always entertained a deep sense of religion, a consummate love of virtue, an ardent thirst after knowledge, and an earnest desire to promote the welfare and happiness of all mankind.  By these qualities, accompanied with great sweetness of manners, he acquired the love and esteem of all good men, in a degree which perhaps very few have experienced; and after passing an active life with the uniform testimony of a good conscience, he became an eminent example of its influence, in the cheerfulness and serenity of his latest age.”

Such was the man whom I offer to you as a model, young gentlemen, at the outset of your medical career.  I hope that many of you will recognize some traits of your own special teachers scattered through various parts of the land in the picture I have drawn.  Let me assure you that whatever you may learn in this or any other course of public lectures,—­and I trust you will learn a great deal,—­the daily guidance, counsel, example, of your medical father, for such the Oath of Hippocrates tells you to consider your preceptor, will, if he is in any degree like him of whom I have spoken, be the foundation on which all that we teach is reared, and perhaps outlive most of our teachings, as in Dr. Jackson’s memory the last lessons that remained with him were those of his Old Master.