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CORNELL UNIVERSITY 



ADDRESSES AT THE OPENING OF 



THE MEDICAL COLLEGE 



J. G. SCHURMAN 
President of Cornell University 



W. M. POI.K, M.D. 
Dean of the Faculty of Medicine 



PUBLISHED BY THE UNIVERSITY 
1898 



The Medical College of Cornell 
Univenily oives its exisicnce to the 
munificence of Colonel Oliver H. 
Payne. It was established by the 
Trustees of the University on April 
fourteenth, iSqS, and its doors were 
opened to students on the fourth of 
the following October. 



THE CORNELL UNIVERSITY MEDICAL 
COLLEGE 



ADDRESS BY PRESIDENT SCHURMAN 



Ladies and Gentlemen : 

The origin of the Cornell University Medical 
College reminds one of the birth of Minerva. That 
goddess, you remember, sprang full-armed from 
the brain of Jove. Our Medical College is almost 
as miraculous a creation. A year ago no one 
dreamt of its existence. To-day it stands before 
the world with an actual organization and a potency 
of achievement which seem to presage its manifest 
destiny as the American acropolis of ^sculapius. 

I know no better illustration of Professor 
Huxley's saying that "the question of medical ed- 
ucation is, in a very large and broad sense, a ques- 
tion of finance." Most assuredly this institution 
could not have come into existence but for the 
unlimited capital which a wise head and generous 
hand have furnished for its foundation and sup- 
port. That munificent gift is the offering to hu- 



manity of one who feels deep sympathy with his 
suffering fellow-men, and who believes that their 
lot is to be ameliorated by the elevation of medical 
education. "I suppose," this generous benefactor 
once said to me, "we all want to do some good in 
the world, and I should like to do something by 
improving the education of that profession which 
cares for the lives of men, heals their wounds, and 
alleviates their sufferings." Of such a compas- 
sionate heart and intelligent understanding was 
the Cornell University Medical College born. 

By the star of our nativity, therefore, we are 
dedicated to noble things. With such a consecra- 
tion, which will prove a never-failing inspiration, 
let us, in that spirit of fraternal union which gives 
irresistible strength, strive by zeal, diligence, and 
wisdom for the fulfilment of the high trust com- 
mitted to us. Here and now let us resolve that, 
so far as in us lies, the humane and lofty purpose 
of our Founder shall be accomplished. 

I have no doubt whatever that we shall suc- 
ceed in our task. If our hopes are sanguine, if 
our ambitions are high, if we presume to make our 
aim a goal yet unattained, do we not also set out 
on our career under circumstances more favorable 
than have ever smiled upon any similar institution 
since medical education began with the University' 
of Salerno ? Much may be expected of this Medi- 
cal College, for much has been given to it. I speak 
not only of capital, which, however, is forthcoming 
for every reasonable object. Nor have I in mind 



material structures, thougli our local habitation in 
spacioiis proportions will soon rise, like a thing of 
splendor and beauty, to crown this section of our 
great metropolis. My thought is rather of men. 
For it is true now, as always, that, though money 
be the indispensable condition, the real and essen- 
tial cause of the success of any institution is to be 
found in the men who are its active soul. If, there- 
fore, my expectations are pitched high for this 
Medical College, it is primarily because it is organ- 
ized with a remarkably strong, though still incom- 
plete, staff of instruction — a body of picked men, a 
corps of physicians and surgeons whose practice 
puts them in the van of their profession, and whose 
gifts as teachers, already exhibited in other schools, 
have won for them the united admiration of rival 
bodies of students. Personally, I count it a peculiar 
privilege that I am to have the honor of association 
with these distinguished gentlemen in the eleva- 
tion of medical education and the advancement of 
medical science in this great city of New York. I 
regret that I am not better qualified to aid them. 
I am not a physician or the son of a physician. 
Perhaps, however, your sympathetic imaginations 
will invest me with at least the semblance of initia- 
tion, if I tell you that my Alma Mater has on her 
rolls, not only the name of Huxley, but those emi- 
nent medical practitioners and reformers. Sir Henry 
Thompson, Sir William Jenner, Henry Maudsley, 
Sir Morrell MacKenzie, and, greatest surgeon of 
all, and of the century. Sir Joseph Lister. And 



you may be kind enough to think that a college 
which turns out such men is not likely to breed in 
any of its sons indifference to, or lack of sympathy 
with, the science and art of medicine. 

The work and fame of this Medical College, 
then, are in the hands of its Faculty. You will 
agree with me that they are in safe keeping there. 
But I should not have done justice to my own feel- 
ings, or fully described the support of this institu- 
tion, if I did not mention another feature of its 
existence, a feature which I may be pardoned for 
thinking of cardinal importance, as it explains and 
justifies — especially as nothing I have to say would 
else justify — the prominence which has been given 
to my unworthy self in these proceedings. This 
Medical College is a department of Cornell Univer- 
sity. And by that description I mean to say that 
it is a real, integral, and vital part of the University. 
In other words the legal corporation, known as 
Cornell University, has exactly the same rights, 
powers, responsibilities, and jurisdiction in regard 
to this new department as it has hitherto exercised 
in regard to every other department of the Univer- 
sity. The only difference is that a wealthy phil- 
anthropist gives us an endowment for the conduct 
of the department of medicine, while many of our 
other departments are unendowed, and must take 
their chances of support out of the general funds 
of the University. This difference is momentous 
indeed from the point of view of permanent and 
assured vitality and efficiency. But, considering 



the mere fact of organization, I repeat that the 
Medical College stands on precisely the same foot- 
ing as the Academic Department, the College of 
Law, or the Sibley College of Mechanical Engineer- 
ing. The Faculty, in every case, is charged with 
the educational administration of its respective Col- 
lege ; but all business is conducted, and all appoint- 
ments are made, by the Board of Trustees of Cornell 
University. The members of the Faculty of Med- 
icine receive fixed stipends, like the professors in 
other departments ; and as they have nothing to 
do with the business affairs of the College, so they 
have no interest in the fees received for tuition, 
which are turned into the treasury of Cornell Uni- 
versity. The Faculty, in a word, is an educational 
body. 

You may ask if it is possible for the Board of 
Trustees of Cornell University, meeting in Ithaca, 
to manage wisely the affairs of their Medical Col- 
lege in New York ? Let me remind you, by way 
of answer, that this is an age of telegraphs, tele- 
phones, and rapid travel. But not only this. Fol- 
lowing a precedent already established in connec- 
tion with some of the other Colleges of the Uni- 
versity, the Board of Trustees have established for 
the Medical College an advisory council, consisting 
of the Dean and two members of the Faculty of 
Medicine, three Trustees (who are residents of New 
York), and the President of the University, as 
Chairman, whose duty it is to digest all business 
affecting the Medical College and make recom- 



mendations thereupon to the Board for formal 
action. This system, which insures a thorough 
consideration of every question from every point of 
view, promises the happiest results. The Council 
meets once a month, on the day following the 
monthly meeting of the Faculty. 

So much for the anatomy and physiology of 
the Medical College as one of the organs of Cornell 
University. Let me now turn to the inner and 
ideal side of this relationship. 

Though the physical distance between the 
Medical College and the other departments of our 
University is greater than it is in the case of Har- 
vard or Columbia, I believe I am not mistaken in 
the belief that the connection is really closer. For 
the men of the first or second years are free to 
study either here or in the Academic Department at 
Ithaca, while in the case of the women they are even 
required to go to Ithaca. It is a characteristic of 
Cornell University, whose charter consecrates it to 
both "liberal and practical education," not to draw 
sharp lines of demarcation between the Academic 
Department and the professional schools. It has 
always been recognized that when the curriculum 
of the classical colleges was enlarged so as to pro- 
vide for the sciences of nature and the modern 
humanities — as from the beginning it was enlarged 
at Cornell — then the Academic Department, instead 
of withdrawing to the seclusion of an imaginary 
superiority, in fact became the foundation and the 
fruitful ally of every technical, scientific, or learned 



profession. Nearly lialf the work of our engineer- 
ing courses is given in the Academic Department. 
And we were glad to make a similar arrangement 
for the medical student. While on this subject of 
inter-relationship I may add that the graduates of 
every one of our professional colleges enjoy, equally 
with the Bachelors of Arts, the privilege of voting 
for Alumni Trustees. I suppose we may soon ex- 
pect to see an influx of medical members into our 
Board ! 

There is another feature'of Cornell University 
which is of no little importance in the considera- 
tion of medical studies. From the beginning we 
have given prominence to the natural sciences. Of 
course the physico-chemical sciences were indis- 
pensable to the success of our engineering depart- 
ments. But though we had no medical school, 
which imperatively called for the biological sci- 
ences, these were nourished with equal care and 
assiduity. I need only mention the name of Pro- 
fessor Wilder as a guarantee of the quality of the 
work done. But not only were physiology, anat- 
omy, and the kindred sciences cultivated by the 
University ; their indispensable importance to the 
physician and surgeon was recognized at a time 
when students at medical schools were accustomed 
to hear "lectures upon surgery without any knowl- 
edge of anatomy, and upon therapeutics while 
ignorant of physiology." (Dr. Wilder in Boston 
Medical and Surgical Journal, June 24th, 1875.) 
Indeed, within two years after its opening in 1868, 



Cornell University had arranged a four-year course 
in Natural History leading to tie degree of Bach- 
elor of Science, whicli was well adapted to the 
needs of students who contemplated the study of 
medicine ; and, in 1878, for such students as could 
not take this full course, a shorter two-year course 
was provided, in which a large amount of time was 
devoted to practical work in anatomy, physiology, 
histology, and chemistry. Anyone who knows how 
these sciences were in those da3'-s neglected in the 
medical schools will perhaps feel that there is a 
certain propriety or poetic justice in the endow- 
ment which Cornell has at last received for the 
establishment of a great medical department. 

This is the attitude of Cornell University to 
the sciences of nature ; this is what she has done 
for the scientific preparation of students for work 
in the medical schools. Is not her spirit and aim 
wonderfully congenial with the spirit and aim of 
your profession ? What is needed for the training 
of physicians and surgeons to-day ? I answer, first, 
science ; secondly, science ; thirdly, science. If, two 
or three generations ago, medicine was, on the 
side of theory, pretty much where Harvey had 
left it in the 17th century, and, on the side of 
practice, scarcely in advance of that of Celsus or 
Galen, the last half century has wrought an en- 
tire change. As Sir Joseph Lister recently said, 
in his presidential address before the British Asso- 
ciation for the Advancement of Science, "the prac- 
tice of medicine, in every department, is becoming 



more and more based on science, as distinguished 
from empiricism." Recall only the discovery of 
the functions of the spinal cord, of reflex action, of 
anaesthetics, of the antiseptic method, of the germ 
theory of disease ; think only how the prolonga- 
tion of life and the lowering of the death-rate (in 
the City of New York, from 32.2 to 19.5 in forty 
years) has been effected by scientific hygiene ; 
enumerate only such instruments as the stetho- 
scope, the ophthalmoscope, the laryngoscope, the 
pleximeter, the cardiograph, the spirometer, and the 
sphygmograph ; — consider the significance of these 
essential facts of the healing art of to-day, and you 
will agree with me that modern medicine has been 
"scientificized." Now I do not claim that Cornell 
University has, in any special way, contributed to 
this transformation of empirical into scientific med- 
icine. But I do assert that from the day of her 
origin she has observed the change, welcomed it, 
and endeavored to give her students the training 
necessary for the understanding of, and participa- 
tion in it. And so, to-day, she says to every one of 
these students : Master your sciences, or you can 
never be a physician or a surgeon worthy the name. 
As Huxley once put it in an address to the students 
of my Alma Mater : "I do not believe that all the 
talking about, and thinking of, medical education 
will do the slightest good until the fact is clearly 
recognized, that men must be thoroughly grounded 
in the theoretical branches of their profession." 
And these theoretical branches Huxley reduces to 



tlie minimum of physics applied to physiology, 
chemistry applied to physiology, physiology and 

anatomy. 

Some of you will say that it is impossible to 
master the scientific bases of medicine in the one 
or two years — at most two years — which the med- 
ical schools assign to those subjects. This is my 
belief, too. And so I say, take more time. But 
not only for mastery of your sciences. A man 
educated merely in the sciences of nature, a man 
whose mind has not been opened, elevated, and 
enlarged by art, letters, and philosophy, is a good 
deal of a Philistine. Liberal culture, like virtue 
or religion, has its own intrinsic value. I shall 
not, however, stop to argue a thesis so manifest, and 
so universally accepted. But I do desire to ask 
you if it is not true that a liberally educated man 
— a man whose powers and faculties have been dis- 
ciplined, chastened, strengthened, and enlarged by 
letters, philosophy, and science — will not have a 
great advantage over the man of mere professional 
education, even in the practice of his profession ? 
He will have deeper insight, a greater comprehen- 
siveness and versatility of intellect, a surer faculty 
of seeing things as they are and disentangling what 
is irrelevant and sophistical. This is what gives 
such profound truth to the saying of Jowett — the 
greatest educator of his generation — that to be a 
good engineer a man must be more than an en- 
gineer. And I find this same sentiment among 
the most distinguished physicians. You will see 



13 

it expressed in Sir Morrell MacKenzie's essay on 
"The Relation of General Culture to Professional 
Success." And the celebrated Dr. Stokes, a gen- 
eration ago, laid it down as a maxim that "We 
must trust far less to the special than to the gen- 
eral training of the mind." My own observations 
and reflections as an educator and a stiident of the 
human mind have led me to the same conclusion. 
Generally stated, my view is that the mind, in 
order to know anything well, must know far more 
than that thing — and the more extensive and inten- 
sive that "more" is, the better will the narrower 
specialty be understood, and the readier will be 
the power of applying it. I have had striking 
confirmations of this principle in my intercourse 
with professional men. The leader of the Ameri- 
can bar once told me that he owed his success in 
his profession to his college work in philosophy 
and the languages. The Nestor of American jour- 
nalism assured me that whatever reputation he had 
achieved was due to his college training in classics 
and mathematics. And as I scan the biographies 
of the men who were eminent in the medical pro- 
fession, I find that Harvey devoted five years to 
academical studies at Cambridge before he went to 
Padua to study anatomy ; that Richard Bright 
studied philosophy under Dugald Stewart ; that 
Sir James Y. Simpson was a student both of math- 
ematics and of ethics ; and that Sir Joseph Lister 
took his A.B. at the University of London five 
years before he came up for his medical degree. 



14 



To every prospective medical student I should like 
to say : Go thou and do likewise. 

Undoubtedly this will make large demands 
upon the time of the student. Now it is not neces- 
sary that any young man should be a physician or 
surgeon ; but if he decides to become one, he should 
aim at nothing less than the first rank. Here, too, 
as at other points, Cornell University will give him 
aid and encouragement. In our Academic Depart- 
ment the student has absolute liberty in the choice 
of studies. So that if our future medical stu- 
dent enters that course he may, without neglecting 
letters or philosophy, master thoroughly his anat- 
omy, physiology, histology, chemistry, physics, and 
botany, and at the end of four years receive his 
A.B. degree. There then would remain of the 
medical curriculum only the professional branches, 
which he could compass in the next two years, in 
New York City. Thus, thanks to our elective sys- 
tem, he would win both the A.B. and the M.D. 
degree in six years — though each separately 
requires four years. 

It will, then, be to the advantage, not only of 
the University and its Medical College, but of the 
student and the general public, if the relationship 
between our Academic and Medical Departments 
become closer and more constant. I hope to see it 
the rule for our students of medicine to spend four 
years at Ithaca in the study of letters, philosophy, 
and science — the latter covering in a thorough way 
the theoretical parts of the medical curriculum — 



15 

and tlien two years here for instruction in the prac- 
tical part of the curriculum, for which this great 
city offers unsurpassed opportunities. The Fac- 
ulty of Medicine would, I am sure, rejoice if this 
arrangement were the general and normal one. 
Our Founder would rejoice, for his aim is, not to 
attract numbers, but to offer superior training for 
those, be they few or many, capable of receiving it. 
And if, along with this ideal of high intellectual 
standards, we entertain a just conception of the 
inherent nobility of the medical profession — whose 
aim now and always is to discover and use the laws 
of nature for the relief, healing, and protection of 
mankind — we shall in this new Medical College, 
which we now open, erect a temple whose founda- 
tions are truth, and whose superstructure is charity 
and philanthropy. And upon it and all its mem- 
bers I reverently invoke the blessing of God, who 
is at once both Truth and Mercy. 



ADDRESS BY DEAN POLK 



"There is a divinity which shapes our ends, rough hew them as we may" 

Herein lies the explanation of tlie success whicli 
has attended the conception and creation of this 
medical school ; and we who are the instruments 
employed have but one feeling, an all-pervading 
feeling, especially on this the opening occasion of 
our educational work ; and this is a deep sense of 
our responsibilities to our benefactor, our Univer- 
sity, and to you. It might be supposed that the 
distinction which these factors in our existence 
have bestowed upon us would create an elation 
which would warrant a desire for the triumphal 
car and its attendant glories, but I know that, so 
far from this being the state of our minds, a spirit 
of seriousness possesses us, in keeping with re- 
newed effort rather than effort accomplished. It is 
evident that this argues well for the execution of 
the trust placed in our hands. 

In this wonderful country of ours a consider- 
able number of men have been produced who, 
through the exercise of natural powers upon the 
opportunities before them, have acquired the means 
wherewith to bestow munificent gifts. With the 
thousands of impecunious enterprises continuously 



17 

projected, it is evident that these men are never 
free from solicitation to contribute to this, patron- 
ize that, or endow the other. Hence it is scarcely 
to be wondered at, that more than the ordinary dis- 
crimination is needed to avoid bestowal in wrong 
direction and apply it in the right. When, there- 
fore, after proper inquiry and deliberation, such a 
bestowal is made, it carries with it more than the 
usual obligation that the recipient shall in all 
things live up to the expectation of the benefactor. 
In the construction of any undertaking, ideals 
may be priceless, and they are priceless, if they 
personify the highest, installed upon a basis of 
common sense. Such ideals contribute working for- 
mulae, and can, therefore, be readily used in pro- 
moting an undertaking ; and the greatest good 
fortune attends upon the enterprise which possesses 
such an ideal and has at hand the means with 
which to reach toward it. It is doubly fortunate if, 
with the means, comes hand in hand the ideal. You 
know we have the means, and infer we have the 
ideal, but you do not know that the same hand 
which bestowed the means unconsciously brought 
with it the ideal. For this gift was in reality a 
protest against intrigue and deception, and a proof 
that faithfulness is as essential to lasting success 
in the great things of life as in the smallest. And 
yet this was not all. It was not enough to give us 
this ideal, but a place in which to exercise and de- 
velop it in all its bearings was also given, in put- 
ting us within the folds of a great University. 



If you will go with me to the town of Ithaca, 
you will there see grouped upon the hills over- 
looking the head of one of the most extensive and 
beautiful of the many lakes peculiar to the interior 
of this State, a wonderful sight : — a great Univer- 
sity, the result of thirty years of growth. And, 
questioning as to the source of such a develop- 
ment, we find the answer in the words of its distin- 
guished President : "It lies in its constitutive 
idea." "Every college and university is an organ 
of the highest knowledge. Its function is the con- 
secration of liberal culture. This was the accepted 
view held a generation ago, and it was deemed 
sufficient. Cornell University went further : it 
associated practical education with liberal. It 
ranked professional training among its functions ; 
and it enlarged the notion of learned or scientific 
professions so as to include, along with the tradi- 
tional trio of law, medicine, and theology, whatever 
calling rests on science or scholarship." In the 
words of its Founder, it is "an institution where any 
person can find instruction in any study." "Hos- 
pitable to all the learned and scientific vocations of 
modern times, it yet, at the same time, enlarges 
the conception of liberal culture itself so as to give 
the sciences of nature and the modern humanities 
a place beside the ancient disciplines of Greek, 
Latin, and mathematics."' 

The eminently American character of the Uni- 
versity is clearly defined in its democracy of liberal 

"'A Generation of Cornell." 



19 

and scientific schools, and the vigor whicli charac- 
terizes its administration is perpetuated in the love 
and loyalty of its large classes, and the marvelous 
esprit de corps of its numerous and influential 
alumni. This is the inheritance we have been bid- 
den to share, and in taking our place do so with a 
deep determination to lend our minds and bodies 
to the fulfilment of its ideals. 

As has been said, an essential part of this ideal 
is the practical, and herein lies the core of what we 
deem our duty to j'ou, the students. 

At the risk of wearying you with repetition of 
what you have already learned from our circular of 
information, I must say something of the manner 
in which we propose to meet the demand for the 
practical in your instruction. After a good many 
years devoted to medical education, we have arrived 
at the conviction that clinical demonstration, upon 
a broad basis of laboratory instruction, is the only 
way in which to prepare students for the degree of 
Doctor of Medicine. This has been forcibly borne 
in upon all undergraduate teachers by the univer- 
sal demand for post-graduate instruction in details, 
without which a graduate is in reality unfitted for 
the practice of this profession. The first question 
that had to be answered related to the disposition 
of the didactic teaching, that part of the course 
which offered the preliminary knowledge of the 
theory of medicine as an introduction to the prac- 
tical. After no small amount of labor and experi- 
mentation, we reached the conclusion that recitation 



from text-books, conducted, under the direction of 
the Faculty, by a trained corps of instructors, af- 
forded a better basis of theory than the didactic 
lecture. This arrangement had also another advan- 
tage of even greater merit, in that it freed the 
older and more experienced teacher, so that he 
could give his time to the practical or clinical 
demonstration of the theory. To do this properly, 
it was evident that he must have more time and 
opportunity than the so-called clinic of the amphi- 
theatre afforded. This could only be found in 
closer and more frequent contact between the stu- 
dent and patient than was possible at such clinics ; 
hence the plan finally adopted, namely, to break 
up the classes into small sections, and scatter such 
sections through the wards of hospitals and dis- 
pensaries, each under the guidance of a trained clin- 
ician, whose object would be less the display of his 
own learning than the eliciting of the student's 
knowledge, with a view to its correction and enlarge- 
ment. Given then this broad basis of laboratory 
instruction, text-book drilling, with clinical demon- 
stration superimposed, and presented to such small 
subdivisions of the class as to insure the direct im- 
press of the teacher upon each student, we feel we 
have advanced a long way toward presenting the best 
instruction that can possibly be given to the medi- 
cal undergraduate of to-day. To meet fully the 
demands of such a system, it is evident that pa- 
tients are a necessity. The hospitals to which we 
have access, though many and commodious, by no 



means meet tlie requirements. This can come only 
from the control of a large outdoor or walking 
clinic. 

For many years those of us who believed 
in this method of conducting medical education 
dreamed of a college building which would be a 
dispensary, surrounding and enveloping a medical 
school ; a dispensary in which, beside space for con- 
sultation with patients with every conceivable dis- 
order, there should be at hand space for the accom- 
modation of students, who could thus have ready 
access to every opportunity for demonstration. 
With room for each department to conduct its own 
clinical microscopy ; one or more large lecture-halls 
for such lines of teaching as might still require 
didactics ; museums filled with every required 
model or specimen needed for demonstration ; work- 
rooms for every kind of teaching for which the 
cadaver may be required ; space where all that per- 
tains to physiology may be unfolded ; and rooms for 
chemistry, to show not only what pertains to the 
inorganic of medicine, but all that is known or can 
be known upon the subject of animal or physiolog- 
ical chemistry. 

This was our dream, and now when we awake 
and find this dream practically a reality — when we 
see rising before us all that our imagination so 
long pictured, and look back upon the years so 
vexatiously spent in making brick without the 
straw — we enter, as few have entered, into the feel- 
ing of the people of Israel, as they turned their 



eyes to the land which Joshua and Caleb had told 
them of. And in a spirit of deep appreciation 
we begin here our part in the completion of the 
edifice which typifies the spirit and the body of our 
University. 

With imposing presence it lifts itself upon its 
bed of rock, suggestive of some great cathedral. 
We see its minarets, its spires and towers reaching 
heavenward, each marking the position of some 
component part or school, and telling in degree 
the sum of effort and perfection put forth and at- 
tained by each. Moving among its massive pillars 
and beneath its solemn arches, student and teacher 
alike approach its altar, and there find the visible 
presence of that sacred spirit of amity, unity, loy- 
alty, and friendship which touches every soul that 
enters within its portals. Upon and within this 
stately edifice, our place as yet is scarcely more 
than indicated. But, filled with the spirit of that 
loyal faith given us in the example of our benefac- 
tor, imbued with the power of that high-souled ag- 
gression characterizing our University, and strong 
in the force of our own purpose, we engage to 
build for you as fair, as firm, as grand a spire as 
ever reared its head toward heaven. Faithful, ag- 
gressive, strong, we one and all pledge you our best 
and ever-increasing effort. 



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