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I am sensible I may be asked, how it happens, if the signs of future death are infallible, that some, who are entirely given over by physicians, should recover, and that some are reported to have come to life again, even when they were carried out to be buried? Nay, the justly famed Democritus maintained, that even the marks that life was gone, which physicians had trusted, were not certain: so far was he from allowing, that there could be any certain prognostics of death. In answer to which I shall not insist, that some marks, which bear a great resemblance to each other, often deceive not the able, but the unskilful physicians, (which Asclepiades knowing, when he met a funeral, cried out, that the person, whom they were about to bury, was alive) and that the art is not to be charged with the faults of any of its professors. But I will answer with more moderation; that medicine is a conjectural art, and that the nature of conjecture is such, that although it answers for the most part, yet sometimes it fails. And if a prognostic may deceive a person, perhaps in one of a thousand instances, it must not therefore be denied credit, since it answers in innumerable others. And this I say not only with regard to the mortal, but also to the salutary symptoms. For hope too is sometimes disappointed, and one dies, whom at first the physician thought in no danger. And those things, which have been contrived for curing, sometimes occasion a change for the worse. Nor is it possible for human weakness to avoid this, in so great a variety of constitutions. But medicine however deserves credit, which most frequently, and in the greatest number of sick people by far, is of service. Nevertheless we ought not to be ignorant, that the prognostics both of recovery and death are more fallacious in acute distempers.