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powder, and in contradistinction to nosophen is highly soluble in water and alcohol. Thus we have in these products two of the most effective and useful of all germicidal and antiseptic agents--nosophen per sc being superior to iodoform as a surgical dressing, either in powdered form or in the form of nosophen gauze, because it can be used with impunity without fear of toxic effects and disagreeable odor with just as great assurance of germicidal, antiseptic, deodorizing, healing and drying powers.

Antinosine being far preferable to iodoform, because of its ready solubility in aqueous solutions and its freedom from toxic effect, thus enabling us to apply it in pathological situations not approachable by iodoform or any other antiseptic or germicidal agent unless used in toxic quantities. For example, it is often times impossible to use bichloride of mercury in sufficient strength without fear of serious irritative and constitutional effects. Aside from my own experience in the use of nosophen and antinosine in support of the foregoing statements, it is only necessary to refer to the experimental bacteriological researches of such European authorities as Von Voorden, Dreyer, Koll, Pos. ner, Frank, Noack, Lieven, Zuntz, Binz, Feibes, Robin, Kruse, Seifert, Lassar, Ehrmann, Ruge, De Buck, Hoor, Costanzo, Sonnenberger, Lermoyez, Doutrelpont, Sprecher, Rosenheim and numerous others, and to these might be added the names of many eminent in this country. In short, few medicaments of modern times have received so much serious consideration in the way of experimental and bacteriological investigation at the hands of the medical fraternity generally as have nosophen and its compounds, and yet the prevailing opinion seems to be that in nosophen and antinosine we have acquired the most efficient germicidal and antiseptic agents of all the iodine derivatives, and yet the explanation is quite simple, for nosophen is such a stable compound that it undergoes changes with great difficulty, and when changed, it is converted by alkaline secretions with which it comes in contact into its soluble salt antinosine, which in turn is readily absorbed, thus exercising a constitutional as well as a local antiseptic and germicidal effect. And knowing that nosophen and antinosine possess just as great bactericidal power without the characteristic irritating effect noted with respect to the exhibition of other iodine compounds, such as iodoform, iodol, aristol, europhen, etc., it is not surprising that we should prefer them to all others, and, still further, this fact raises the query as to the modus operandi of these interesting and useful compounds, and the answer resolves itself into one of chemical affinity or chemism; in other words, other jodine compounds depend for their therapeutic efficacy upon the fa

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cility with which they undergo decomposition with consequent liberation of iodine, while nosophen, as before stated, decomposes with the greatest difficulty, and when antinosine decomposes it is reconverted to its original form and activity, viz., it becomes nosophen,

Prior to the time when my attention was first directed to nosophen and antinosine I was a firm believer in and ardent admirer of iodoform, either pure or combined with boric acid, in a great part of my eye, ear, nose and throat work, both in hospi. tal and private practice; but finding that it was only necessary to use these preparations in order to demonstrate their medicinal efficacy, and as any efficient substitute for iodoform was a great desideratum, I have applied them most thoroughly and effect. ively, and in conclusion will select from the many cases from my hospital and private case record the following typically illustrative cases:

Case I. W. F. N., aged 35 years. Granular conjunctivitis with pannus, which had troubled him for years. Prescribed 2 per cent. aqueous solution of antinosine three times daily, and applied nosophen directly to the lids every other day. Result, perfect cure in six weeks. Have likewise used it in cases of catarrhal conjunctivitis; and in

Case II. E. C. W., aged 26 years, double gonorrheal ophthalmia, due to direct inoculation from unclean hands, patient having acute gonorrhea. Frequent instillation of 2 per cent. solution of antinosine, together with irrigations with warm solution of antinosine, same strength; this, together with abject quietude and occasional instillations of atropine solution to control iritic manifestations, constituted the treatment. Result, perfect restoration of both eyes.

Case III. J. M., aged 33. Mastoid abscess following otitis media suppurativa chronica. Opened mastoid with trephine and chisel down to dura, drained, and irrigated with a 4 per cent. solution of antinosine, using four quarts at each irrigation. Dusted nosophen both into ear and on site of operation. Result, perfect cure in six weeks—and I may remark here that many other cases of suppurative inflammation of the middle ear without mastoid complications have yielded readily to irrigations with watery solutions of antinosine, subsequent thorough drying and dusting nosophen into ear, and in my experience I have found nothing to equal nosophen and antinosine in all classes of cases, and have yet to see the case in which the results were disappointing.

Catarrhal cases of the nose and throat in many instances have yielded to insufflations of nosophen and irrigations with aqueous solutions of antinosine, when other antiseptic applications had utterly failed. And so I might continue to enumerate cases that have responded admirably to these remedies, but as a few examples are all-sufficient to fully establish the true worth of nosophen and antinosine, I feel fully assured that it only remains for those who have not used them to try them and be convinced.



Owensboro, Kentucky.

By many, the true meaning of realism in fiction is utterly unknown. People are apt to think when an author "calls a spade a spade,” that he is, necessarily, a realist. He may call a spade by its own proper name, and yet, while doing so, he may so invest this common steel implement with foreign attributes that, in the end, its identity is wholly lost and it becomes something else. True realism is, at heart, something deeper, something which appeals to the causa rerum, and above all other things, to naturalness. Realism is, by no manner of means, verisimilitude, nor is it, necessarily, truth itself; yet to be artistically and psychically beautiful, and to have weight and power, it should carry with it an atmosphere of absolute truth-so much so, indeed, that the reader loses entirely the falsity of the fiction in the reality of the diction. Or, to be more explicit, the words, style, and method of the composition should be such, that they would invariably convey to the mind of the reader an idea of truthfulness, of naturalness, and of reality. One may describe a real occurrence, yet he may use such extravagant or unfitting language in his description, that the act or scene described becomes a doubtful quantity to the mind of the reader; he is at a loss to kuow exactly what the narrator intends. Hence arises that sense of discomfort, so often experienced by sensitive readers when reading reportorial crudities, or the coarse and uninteresting details of some of the would-be realistic novels of the day. Taken as a whole, there is nothing more interesting than nature and by nature I mean everything “in the heavens above, or the earth beneath, or the waters under the earth") when it is described naturally; yet, there are many natural details that are exceedingly prosaic, uninteresting, weak and ugly. Would-be realists frequently make the mistake of introducing crudities and ineptitudes into their work. Take, for instance, “April Hopes." Here is a book of a hundred or so pages, many of which are filled with dry and spiritless incidents of everyday life. It is true that, in one sense of the word, this is realism; but, in another sense, the true sense, it is not. On the contrary, it is romanticism, very trite and dull; it is true, yet, nevertheless, romanticism, inasmuch as it is a figment of the author's brain. Again, the would-be realist often presents scenes and situations which are psychically abnormal, unreal and unnatural. For instance, the author of "La Terre" represents a woman as aiding and assisting her husband while he debauches another and younger woman, her own sister. We are not told that this woman has lost her mental equipoise, that she is psychically morbid; on the contrary, we are given to understand that she is in full possession of her senses, and that her woman's nature, rude and uncultivated though it is, is the same as that of other normal women of her social status. I hold that not even a savage would do such a thing; her innate sexual jealousy would forbid and prevent such an act.

The scene instanced is described with almost microscopic detail, “a spade is called a spade," yet it is not realism; it is simply vulgar, obscene and salacious romanticism!

A genius invests the ordinary happenings of life with a glamour that is unknown to, and unseen by, the average man. I do not say that the average normal man, for I do not consider genius an abnormality. It is undoubtedly true that genius is almost invariably accompanied by degeneration, but this does not indicate that genius is a product of degeneration. On the con. trary, I think that degeneration is the result of genius, for, in the case of the latter, certain psychic centers appropriate more than their share of the vis vitae, consequently other centers de generate through lack of proper pabulum; it is a development, in one direction at the expense of another.

Cervantes, who stands at the head of the so-called romanticists, was a genius, and, in the power he displayed of making the trivial occurrences of daily life appear surrounded with a halo of ideality, in which all sordidness, all vulgarity, is wholly lost, he gives an exhibition of his transcendant genius. This man, in my opinion, was a true realist. Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, Rosinante and the patient ass are described with such consummate art that, while reading about them, we no more question their existence than we do that of the sun. Side by side, we ride with the dreaming knight through the purple haze and golden glow of a Spanish day, and every peasant girl we see is a beauteous princess, every barber wearing his glittering shaving-pot upon his head is a diabolical magician, or a warrior bol

Cervantes makes his reader share the witchery and magic of his imaginings; he makes him part and parcel of his hero and his heroine, of the scenes through which he carries him. This, in my opinion, is what constitutes true realism in literature.

I am inclined to believe that most critics define realism as actuality. This is not my definition of the word when applied to literature. Realism is naturalness, not naturalism, and it is just as applicable to the writings of that celebrated “New Jersey scientist,” Mr. Stockton, as it is to the works of the most pronounced realist in the land. In point of fact, Mr. Stockton and Mr. Bangs are much truer realists, in every respect, than are those apostles of realism, Mr. Howells, M. Zola and Dr. Ibsen. Take, for instance, Mr. Bangs' “House Boat on the River Styx;" in this humorous and exceedingly entertaining work the author introduces the shades of historical men and women. Guided by his knowledge of these individuals, which he has derived from history and which is identical with our own knowledge of them, he so describes, directs and conducts his characters in and through the plot of his story, that we forget that they are dead “lo! these many years," and laugh, and sneer and applaud with them as though they were alive and present! And not even the aptness of Peter Newell's highly ludicrous drawings can destroy the illusion! On the other hand, take Mr. Howell's “Rise of Silas Lapham." Has any reader ever lost his own identity, for a single second, and become merged into that of any character of this novel? Has any reader ever felt, for one instant, that the people described were real, living beings, and that the scenes wre actual, and, above all, natural? I think not one! The conversations are “realistic,” but, alas! the art to make the reader feel that they are real is utterly lacking!

Again, take Mr. Stockton's “Great Stone of Sardis." We know that there is no such thing as looking down thousands of feet into the ground through the instrumentality of an “artesian ray,” or any ray, yet we stand by the side of the inventor, and see the mysterious white light far down in the bowels of the earth! We know that no vessel has ever sailed beneath the ice of the Arctic seas, yet there we sail with the adventurous crew, and laugh with them at the queer predicament of the only woman on board, as she stands with her shoes frozen fast to the deck of the ship! How delightfully real and natural the whole thing is, yet Mr. Stockton is not considered a realist, and his stories are not classed among the realistic in literature.

To most critics, realism and naturalism are analogous; this is not true. That realism and naturalness are identical, I grant without demur. Naturalism is the undergarments and toilet

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