"Here lie my old bones; my vexation now ends;
I have lived much too long for myself and my friends.
As to churches and churchyards, which men may call holy,
'Tis a rank piece of priestcraft, and founded on folly.
What the next world may be never troubled my pate;
And, be what it may, I beseech you, O Fate,
When the bodies of millions rise up in a riot,
To let the old carcase of Monsey lie quiet."
The above reminds me of another epitaph in Greenwood:
"Underneath this turf do lie,
Back to back, my wife and I.
Generous stranger, spare the tear,
For could she speak, I cannot hear.
Happier far than when in life,
Free from noise and free from strife,
When the last trump the air shall fill,
If she gets up, I'll just lie still!"
"WHEN DOCTORS DISAGREE."
The eccentricities of some doctors lie in their abuse of their brothers;
especially those of a different school, of which they necessarily know
little or nothing.
There is a Hindoo story illustrative of the folly of this _ex parte_
decision.
Four blind men went to examine an elephant, to ascertain what it was like.
One felt of its foot, the second its trunk, the third its ear, and the
last felt of its tail. Then they held a consultation, and began to talk it
up.
"The elephant is very much like a mortar," said the one who had felt of
the foot.
"It is like a pestle," said the one who had felt of its trunk.
"No; you are both wrong. It's like a fan," said he who had felt of the
ears.
"You are all mistaken; it is like a broom," vehemently exclaimed the man
who had felt of the tail. The dispute grew warm. Each was sure he was
right, because he had personally examined for himself. Then they waxed
angry, and a lasting quarrel grew out of it; so, in the end, they were all
as ignorant of the truth as when they began the investigation.
The diversity of medical opinion on diet is equally as great as on
prescription, and often partakes largely of the notion or eccentricity of
the individual physician, rather than the requirements of the patient.
One is an advocate of animal diet; another is a strict Grahamite, or
vegetarian, and a third is an animo-vegetarian, which, according to the
two kinds of teeth given to man,--the tearing, or canine, and the grinding
teeth,--seems to be the most rational decision. Then there is the
slop-doctor. I know of one in Connecticut. He weighs about two hundred and
fifty pounds. He breakfasts on the richest steak, dines on roast beef, and
sups on a fowl. Every patient he has is a victim to "typhoid fever: the
result is inflammation of the glands of the stomach, and induced by too
hearty food;" hence the patient is starved a month on slop or gruel.