LEE'S PILLS, AND THE DROPSY.
In consequence either of the disease or its mismanagement, I was left,
on recovering from the measles, with a general dropsy. I might also say
here, that at the recurrence of the same season, for many years
afterwards, I was attacked with a complaint so nearly resembling measles
that some who were strangers to me could hardly be diverted from the
belief that it was the veritable disease itself.
But to the dropsy. This disease, so unusual in young people, especially
those of my sanguine and nervous temperament, alarmed both my parents
and myself, and medical advice was forthwith invoked. Our family
physician was an old man, bred in the full belief of the necessity in
such cases of what are called "alteratives," which, in plain English,
means substances so active as to produce, when applied to the body
either externally or internally, certain sudden changes. Alteratives, in
short, are either irritants or poisons.
Our aged doctor was called in to see me; and after the usual
compliments, and perhaps a passing joke or two,--for both of which he
was quite famous,--he asked me to let him see my tongue. Next, he felt
my pulse. All the while--a matter exceedingly important to success--he
looked "wondrous wise." He also asked me sundry wondrous wise questions.
They were at least couched in wondrous words of monstrous length.
The examination fairly over, there followed a pause; not, indeed, an
"awful pause," but one of a few seconds, or perhaps in all of half a
minute. "Now," said he, "you must take one of Lee's pills every day, in
roasted apple." There were other directions, but this was the principal,
except to avoid taking cold. The pills, of course, contained a
proportion of mercury or calomel, on the alterative effects of which,
as I plainly perceived, he placed his chief dependence.
I took the pills, daily, for about six weeks; but they produced very
little apparent effect, except to spoil my appetite. What their remoter
effects were on my constitution generally, is quite another question.
Suffice it to say, for the present, that for his occasional calls and
wondrous wise looks, and his Lee's pills, he made quite a considerable
bill. We were, it is true, always glad to see him, for he was pretty
sure to crack a joke or two during his stay, and he sometimes told a
good story. Nor, after all, were his charges remarkably high. For coming
two or three miles to see me, he only made a charge of fifty cents a
visit.
It was near the beginning of October, and I was "getting no better very
fast." A young physician had in the mean time come into the place, and
my friends were anxious to call him in as "counsel." He proposed
digitalis, and the family physician consented to it. But it was all to
no purpose; I was still a bloated mass, and extremely enfeebled.
At length, after some two or three months of ill health and loss of
time, and the expenditure of considerable money on physicians and
medicine, our good family doctor proposed a tea made from certain sweet
roots, such as fennel, parsley, etc. Of this I was to drink very freely.
I followed his advice, and in a few days the dropsy disappeared. Whether
it was ready to depart just at this precise time, or whether the tea
hastened its departure, I never knew. In any event, one thing is
certain; that, either with its aid or in spite of it, I got rid of the
dropsy; and it nevermore returned.
But it is one thing to get rid of an inveterate disease, and quite
another to be restored to our wonted measure of health and strength. The
disease or the medicine or both had greatly debilitated me. I tried to
attend school, but was unable till January or February; nor even then
was I at all vigorous. I was able in the spring to work moderately; but
it was almost a whole year before I occupied the same ground,
physically, as before. Indeed, I have very many doubts whether I ever
attained to the measure of strength to which I might have attained had
it not been for the expenditure of vital power in a long contest with
Lee's pills and disease.
One lesson I learned, during my long sickness, in moral philosophy. I
allude to the power of associated habits. Thus I was accustomed to take
my pills daily for a long time, in combination with the pulp of a
certain favorite apple. By degrees this apple, before so congenial to my
taste, became so exceedingly disgusting to me that I could hardly come
in sight of it, or even of the tree on which it grew, without nausea;
and this dislike continued for years. By the aid of a strong will,
however, I at length overcame it, and the apple is now as agreeable to
my taste, for any thing I know, as it ever was.