_To the Editor._
Sir,--Few inherited better qualities or were more eccentric than the
late Dr. Lettsom. While he associated with literary men, communicated
with literary works, and wrote and published his medical experience, he
gave gratuitous aid to the needy, and apportioned his leisure to useful
and practical purposes.
In a work, called “Moods and Tenses,” lately published, I find anecdotes
of the doctor, which I had sent to a literary publication,[344]
reprinted without acknowledgment, and extracted since into other works.
In addition to the printed anecdotes of so amiable a man, I trust, sir,
you will not be unwilling further to illustrate his character by an
anecdote or two, until now untold.
The first is of a _Lady and her Servant_. The doctor was once called in
to attend a sick lady and her maid-servant. On entering the passage, he
was asked by the nurse into the lady’s chamber. “Very well,” said he
mildly, “but is there not a servant ill also.” “Yes, sir,” was the
reply. “Then let me prescribe for her first,” he rejoined, “as her
services will be first wanted.” His request was complied with; and as he
predicted so it proved,--by the second visit the servant was
convalescent. “I generally find this the case,” observed the doctor,
good-humouredly, to his friend; “Servants want physic _only_, but their
mistresses require more skill than physic. This is owing to the
difference between scrubbing the stairs and scrubbing the teeth.”
The second anecdote refers to _books_. Whenever a friend borrowed a book
from the doctor’s library, he rarely lent it but with this stipulation,
that the supposed value of the book should be deposited, with the name
of the borrower, and the title of the volume with date, in the vacant
place till the book was restored. “Though attended with some pains, I
find this a good plan,” said the doctor; “many of my sets would
otherwise be imperfect. I feel pleasure in lending my books, (many I
give away,) but I like to see my library, like my practice, as regularly
conducted as possible.”
The third anecdote relates to the cure of _filching_. The doctor had a
favourite servant, who manifested the frailty of taking that which did
not belong to him. John had abstracted a loaf of sugar from the store
closet, and sold it to a person that kept a shop. Shortly afterwards,
on the carriage passing the shop, the doctor desired John to go in and
order a loaf of lump sugar, and to pay for it, which was accordingly
done; but when they returned home, John suspecting his master’s motive,
made a full confession of the crime, fell on his knees, implored
forgiveness, and was pardoned on his solemn promise of future honesty.
The fourth anecdote is worthy of the consideration of medical
practitioners. The doctor having been called to a poor “lone woman,”
pitied her desolate situation so much, that he shed tears. Her person
and room were squalid; her language and deportment indicated that she
had seen better days; he took a slip of paper out of his pocket, and
wrote with his pencil the following very rare prescription to the
overseers of the parish in which she resided:--
“A shilling _per diem_ for Mrs. Maxton: Money, not Physic, will cure
her.
_Lettsom._”
That the doctor was not a rich man may be easily accounted for, when it
is considered that at the houses of the necessitous he gave more fees
than he took. At public medical dinners, anniversaries, and lectures, he
must be well remembered by many a truly vivacious companion, with a
truly benevolent heart and good understanding.
ΠΡΙ
[344] Literary Chronicle, 1819, p. 392.
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_For the Table Book._