leaving, I wished to present an offering of thanks; but he peremptorily refused it, saying, "return, and give thanks to heaven and earth: what merit have I?" So devoid was he of boasting. Compare this his conduct, with that of many physicians of celebrity. How often do they demand heavy fees, and dose you for months together, and after all fail to benefit. Or how often, if they afford even a partial benefit, do they trumpet forth their own merits, and demand costly acknowledgments! But this doctor, heals men at his own cost, and though perfectly successful, ascribes all to heaven, and absolutely refuses to receive any acknowledgment. How far beyond those of the common order of physicians are his character and rank! Ah, such men are difficult to find. The following hasty lines I have penned, and dedicate them to him.

A fluid, darksome and opaque, long time had dimmed my sight,
For seven revolving weary years one eye was lost to light;
The other, darkened by a film, during three years saw no day,
High heaven's bright and gladd'ning light could not pierce it with its

Long, long, I sought the hoped relief, but still I sought in vain,
My treasures, lavished in the search, bought no relief from pain;
Till, at length, I thought my garments I must either pawn or sell,
And plenty in my house I feared was never more to dwell.

Then loudly did I ask, for what cause such pain I bore,—
For transgressions in a former life unatoned for before?
But again came the reflection, how, of yore, oft, men of worth,
For slight errors had borne suff'ring great as drew my sorrow forth.

"And shall not one," said I then, "whose worth is but as nought,
"Bear patiently, as heaven's gift, what it ordains?" The thought
Was scarce completely formed, when of a friend the footstep fell
On my threshold, and I breathed a hope he had words of joy to tell.

"I have heard," the friend who enter'd said, "there is come to us of late
"A native of the 'flower'd flag's' far off and foreign state;
"O'er tens of thousand miles of sea to the inner land he's come;
"His hope and aim to heal men's pain, he leaves his native home."

I quick went forth, this man I sought, this gen'rous doctor found;
He gained my heart, he's kind and good; for, high up from the ground,
He gave a room, to which he came, at morn, at eve, at night,—
Words were but vain were I to try his kindness to recite.

With needle argentine, he pierced the cradle of the tear;
What fears I felt! Soo Tungpo's words rung threat'ning in my ear:
"Glass hung in mist," the poet says, "take heed you do not shake;"
(The words of fear rung in my ear) "how if it chance to break."

The fragile lens his needle pierced: the dread, the sting, the pain,
I thought on these, and that the cup of sorrow I must drain:
But then my mem'ry faithful showed the work of fell disease,
How long the orbs of sight were dark, and I deprived of ease.

And thus I thought: if now, indeed, I were to find relief:
'Twere not too much to bear the pain, to bear the present grief.
Then the words of kindness, which I heard, sunk deep into my soul,
And free from fear I gave myself to the foreigner's control.