The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1871-02-04
BIessings on the DOct0rs.
BY HENRY WARD BEECHER.

Inc Doctors chaise? Well, what is there
about it that differs from sny other vehicle?
1t is built like all other chaises and the borse
was oouSnt wnere other horses were bought,
aud the harness is not noticeable. And vet.
do you ever see the doctors chaise 90 bv with
the same feelings, or 10 feelings, with which
you see others? l do not. Here he comes.
His face is dull and careworn. The case u
bad, undoubtedly. He has been out all night.
Maybe, after long and desperate fight he is
defe ited. Or he sees it is matter only of
hours, and that defeat is certain. Or perhaps
his face is CHEEKY and smiling. Cool news
from the sick-room! The child has passed the
crisis! The family are exultant, the doctor is
radiant Or, may be, he looks only tagged
and weary. No very critical cases. A great
many fussy maladies Ride, ride, ride, all
day and halt the night, without anything to
excite, and everything to fatigue
Iwonder how doctors look at people on the
street. Is their eye out for symptoms? Are
men all medical specimens? Do they think of
organs, of developments, oftemperaments.
An artist would exclaim, "What superb
saying, is he not? "a splendid case for anato-
my tina! body would maker The artist:
"What color! What compleXion?" The
doctor: "That hectic contrast of white and
red shows mischief is brewing"
wonder if sections look on the world with
professional eyes? Do they listen to their
minister with an under-thought of what
splendid funeral he would make? Do they
take mems lengths as they meet them? Do
<1xa,ro ola co;(x <I,n,~ E,ot 81.
seconc-rate coffln-men, cheap coffin men?
But to return 10 doctors. There stands the
doctors horse over the way. At just about
the same hour it has been there for two weeks
past. Who can be sick? The house looks
cheerful enough outside. There is no sign of
| sadness. But inside-what is going on? We
imagine all the supposable cases-the father.
| the mother, the little child, the grandmother?
It's no use. The house is silent. All that
| we know is, that about ten every morning the
doctors chaise stands before the house tor
about an hour, and its presence throws a
shadow on the dwelling.
Blessings on the doctors? How they are
pelted! How many squibs are fired at theml
How many standing jokes and current stories
are kept up at their expense! And yet. when
a fellow is sick, he bundiesiall his stories and
jokes ont of the window, sends for his doctor,
and protests that he feels better just to look
upon him.
II the house is sad, if the ttouble grows, If
| the flower OF the family seems likely to be cut
| of, on the doctor leans the whole household.
His coming and going are the sunrise and
sunset Of the day. His word is waited for as
| never were the responses of the Oraeles His
| reserve and anxiety infect the whole house.
hold. His surprise and exclamation Of pleas
uIe and exultation through every heart. For
| the hour be is as god And if recovery en-
sues, he is heaped with praises, and his fame
| spread abroad with willing tongues. But if,
| after brave battle, watched increasingly
| through day and night, he is overbo ne, all
| sympathize with the friends, but how few
think that the doctor needs pity, sympathy
and comforting! And yet there are cases in
which no one suffers so acutely as the physi-
clan, when the shadow falls and the light Is
gone out.
A good man adopts his patients. AS long
as they are in peril they belong to his house
hold, even if they be uncouth and not lovely
but how much more when they are comely
and lovable. He clngs to friends child as
| if it were his owp, and seeing altar off things
| which must happen, hidden from others, how
often he carries fear and sorrow under smil-
| ing face, and chokes down il-omened words
by words Of simulated courage.
Blessings on the doctors. We think well of
the country doctors saddle-bags, and the city
| doctors prescriptions. But far more are we
in sympathy with the doctors kind heart, his
generous labor, his selt-denying zeal, his glad
ness at others joy, and his silent sorrow for
others snferings and bereavement-Ne,o
i York Ledqer.