aspect. The history of our Civil War, written during the time of conflict and the excitement of the moment is very different when viewed from the prospective of the present.

The same thing is seen in individuals. Our estimates of prominent men of to-day in our profession will vary widely to-morrow, and the next day. When we get a larger prospective and a broader comprehension of the conditions of their life and work.

This thought forced itself on my mind when I read of the death and burial of Dr. Robert Eleazer Ensign and the kindly remarks by his pastor at the grave. How little they appreciated the man and his life work. They could not do otherwise. He was too near them, and perhaps this is well. It is a pleasure for me to offer a larger view of a humble, quiet, practically unknown physician, who graduated from the Albany Medical College in 1857, and who spent forty-two years of his life in the hill villages and farming communities of Connecticut.

Robert Eleazer Ensign was born in West Hartland, Conn., February 25, 1834, and was the second child of Eleazer and Harriet Bosworth Ensign. His grandfather on his mother's side was a physician of West Harland, and died at the age of 90. His father was a surgeon in the English army who settled near Boston soon after the French and English War. Dr. Ensign's father was a merchant, and later a manufacturer.

The doctor attended school at Westfield, Mass., and later graduated from the Suffield Literary Institute in Connecticut. He began life as a teacher and was trained at the State Normal School at New Britain. For several years he taught in various high schools of New Jersey and Connecticut.

Finding the confinement of school life impairing his health, he took up the study of medicine, under the care of his cousin, Dr. Charles Ensign, of Tarrifville, Conn.

In 1855 he entered the Albany Medical College and graduated in 1857, and began practising at Poquonock, Conn. The same year he married Miss Emma A. Hathaway of that town, who survives him. In 1861 he entered the army as assistant surgeon in the Sixth Conn. Volunteers. Six months later he was obliged to resign on account of disability from acute dysentery and malaria.

He returned and settled in the hill town of Harwington, Conn., and again began the practice of medicine. He was made a school visitor and was sent to the Legislature, and occupied other prominent positions in the town. He was appointed medical examiner, pension surgeon, member of the Grand Army and surgeon of the post for many years.

In 1870 he moved to Windsor and from there to Berlin, Conn., where he remained until death, March 29, 1909. He joined the State Medical Society in the early seventies and was an active member in the county society. He was also a Mason and a member of the Episcopal Church.

Of the five children born, two died in infancy. A daughter whom he idolized grew up to thirty years of age, then died suddenly. Her death made a profound impression on his life. Two sons survive him; both prominent business men.

Dr. Ensign's practice was confined to three different towns adjoining each other, and in each one he was a prominent man and had a wide circle of friends.

He was one of the charter members of the New England Albany Alumni Association, and was enthusiastic to keep alive the memories of the college, and was always interested in the graduates, the new faculties, and everything that was said concerning the work.

He probably visited the general Alumni Association at Albany once or twice during his life. Dr. Ensign was particularly a retiring and unobtrusive man, seldom volunteering an opinion, but always an attentive listener. He spoke dirctly to the point, used few words, and they were usually put into an interrogative form, and practically solicited and suggested the opinions of those about him.

He was a very keen observer of men and events, and had very clear ideas of the significance of affairs. He was deeply sympathetic, both in manner and in words. He dressed neatly, had a good equipage and always seemed to be a man of great leisure, never disturbed, but always willing to listen.

Most of his life was occupied with a large practice, and his work was done with quietness, and absence of all assertiveness, which was often misinterpreted as weakness. When criticized by his patients he was unruffled, bland and courteous. Persons acquainted with him recognized a peculiar strength of will and purpose and sound judgment that could not be wavered or changed.

Boisterous neighboring doctors were always ashamed of any advantage they took of him because he never showed any resentment, and was always the same quiet, courteous man. He never boasted, but always suggested inquiries which drew out the opinions of others, and kept his own views in reserve.

It was noticed that notwithstanding all the influence of others, or advice given, he acted on his own judgment and made no explanations or attempts to harmonize with others. His quiet, scholarly ways, growing out of his early teaching life, gave him a certain superiority that was recognized. As a practitioner he seemed to others as old fashioned, and while he used many remedies popular iong ago, he was fully aware of the latest therapeutic measures, and used them with excellent reasoning. He kept copious notes, although he did not write anything for the press. He was a great reader of general literature and a good judge of intellectual work, particularly in medical journals. He knew what was science and what was theory, and often expressed himself very clearly on this point.

When called on at the medical society he spoke with unusual clearness and force, showing that he realized the topic and its limitations.

My acquaintance with him, extending over many years, began with a very interesting case. A prominent man was suffering from a heat stroke, and was unconscious for several days. This was followed by extreme debility, for which the physician prescribed spirits and milk as a tonic and stimulant.

Later a low muttering delirium began, and many consultations were held. Two experts from New York pronounced the case chronic meningitis, and recommended the continuance of the stimulant treatment. The case finally came under the care of Dr. Ensign, who diagnosed the delirium as coming from alcohol, and to sustain him in this opinion I was called in.

Consultations were held, in which nearly all the leading physicians in the neighborhood expressed opinions. Finally, Dr. Ensign, on my advice, assumed the responsibility, and the stimulants and drugs were withdrawn. The improvement was so marked, that the family placed the case entirely in his hands.

Different combinations of sulphate of magnesia, with baths and limited diet, resulted in the full recovery of the patient. I noted in this a rare diagnostic ability, almost intuitive. His methods were entirely by exclusion. He would group all the symptoms on his note book and put down opposite the disease that they might indicate, and then exclude one by one. His careful study would be aided by interrogative questions and suggestions to other practitioners.

In this there was something so scientific and rational as to call out my warmest admiration, and this was many years ago, before this method had become prominent. From that time on I have had many opportunities to admire his rare medical judgment, which was not public in dramatic recoveries and widely talked of events in every-day practice.

On another occasion a delirious suicidal patient with an alcoholic basis was about to be sent to an insane asylum. The doctor had him taken to an isolated farm house, and placed under the care of a strong attendant, with vigorous treatment of baths, exercise, low diet. The man recovered. Dr. Ensign had practically discerned the toxemic causes as active in this case. In this and in many other cases, there was a vein of fine common sense in which he estimated men and events clearly and accurately. He was never credulous or skeptical, but seemed always to be open to hear anything and withhold his judgment.

The influence of the Albany Medical College was very marked on his medical life. He often spoke of Dr. Marsh's directness and concisive thought and manner. Dr. McNaughton was probably his ideal of a practitioner, and Cullen's Practice, which was McNaughton's text-book, was the guide of Dr. Ensign.

There was a fine vein of common sense running through that book, and I think that Cullen and Austin Flint were the two great books of practice that he followed. He was familiar with all the modern books, but evidently they did not attract him. As a school visitor, as a member of the Legislature of Connecticut, and as a post surgeon he was conscientious, exact and faithful in every particular. As a general practitioner he did all the work that came to him. In later years he turned the surgery over to more expert men, but his experience covered the whole field, and like all other country physicians he was the advisor in almost every condition of life, acting as a clergyman, saying prayers at the bedside, in writing wills, advising in veterinary matters; was