CHAPTER IX.

LEE'S WINDHAM BILIOUS PILLS.

I was, at length, twenty-two years of age. I had about fifty dollars in

my pocket, besides a few books. But what would this do towards giving me

a liberal education? And yet, to an education in the schools, of some

sort, either as a means to a profession, or as affording facilities for

obtaining knowledge or communicating it to others, I certainly did

aspire. But I seemed compelled for the present to plod on in the old

way.

There had been, but recently, a gold fever--not, it is true, of

California, but of Carolina. The young men of the North, shrewd,

intelligent, active, and ambitious Yankees, had flocked by hundreds, if

not by thousands, from New England to the Southern States, to sell tin

ware and clocks, especially the former. The trade at first had been very

lucrative. Though many had been made poor by it, yet many more had been

made rich. I do not say how honorably the trade had been conducted. To

sell tin lanterns, worth fifty cents each, for silver, at fifty dollars,

and tin toddy sticks, worth a New York shilling, for twelve dollars, did

not in the final result redound much to our New England credit. Though

it brought us gold, it did not permanently enrich us.

A much better trade had now, in 1820, sprung up with the South. The

North--the great nursery of America--had still a surplus of young men

who wanted to go somewhere. A part of them found their way to Carolina

and Georgia, and engaged during the winter, and occasionally through the

year, in teaching; while another part labored on their canals and

railroads and in their shops. This was to furnish the South with a

commodity of real value, for which we received in return a fair

compensation. Besides, it had a better effect than clock and tin

peddling, both on the seller and buyer.

To improve my pecuniary condition, and to acquaint myself with the

world, I prepared to embark for the South. My purpose was to teach. It

was the beginning of October, and yellow fever was said to be raging in

Charleston, where I purposed to disembark. Was it, then, safe for me to

go? Should the prospect of doing good, improving my mind, and bettering

my condition in many other respects, weigh against the danger of

disease; or was it preferable that I should wait?

My numerous friends counselled me according to their various

temperaments and prepossessions. The strong and vigorous in body and

mind said, _Go on_; the feeble and timorous and trembling interposed

their caution. But the vessel was ready and would soon sail; and I saw

on board many of my acquaintances. The temptation was before me, and was

great; the dangers, though many, were remote--the dangers of the sea

excepted. For these, it is true, I was, like everybody else, entirely

unprepared, having never before in my life crossed more than a single

river. I was moreover exceedingly timid.

One kind friend--kind, I mean, in general intention--who had been many

years at the South, amid the ravages of the gold fever, as well as other

fevers more or less yellow, whispered me just at this critical moment,

"Take with you a box of Lee's Windham Bilious Pills; and as soon as you

arrive at Charleston, make it your rule to swallow, every other day, one

of these pills. That will prevent your getting the fever. I have often

tried it, and always with success."

My friend's words gave me more courage than his pills. I saw that he had

been in the midst of sickness and had lived through it. Why might not I?

My mind was soon made up to proceed on the journey.

We sailed from New Haven in Connecticut, and were seventeen days on our

passage. When we reached Charleston, either the yellow fever had spent

itself or it had not recently been there, except in a few rare

instances. I found no use for pills of any kind, except _such as grew on

fruit-trees_--the apple, peach, orange, persimmon, etc., or such as

were the products of the corn, potato, and rice fields; nor did I ever

take any other while I remained in the South. A queer idea, I often said

to myself, that of taking poison while a person is well, in order to

prevent becoming sick! In any event, I did not do it.

There was sickness in the country, however, if not in the city; and I

was much and often exposed to it. But what then? How would one of Lee's

pills defend me from it, even for two days? I preferred to eat and drink

and sleep correctly, and then trust to my good fortune and to Him who

controlled it, rather than to nauseous and poisonous medicine. And I had

my choice, and with it a blessed reward. I was in the low country of

North and South Carolina and Virginia six months or more, and often and

again much exposed to disease, and yet I never had a sick day while I

remained there. And yet, as I have before intimated, I never took a

particle of medicine during the whole time.

Once, indeed, I was beguiled into the foolish habit of using French

brandy with my dinner, under the idea that it would promote digestion.

But I did not continue it long; and I verily believe that it did me more

harm than good while I used it; for I have at no other period of my life

suffered so much from dyspeptic tendencies as during the summer which

followed this temporary indulgence of brandy with my dinner.

During my wanderings in the South, I had, much of the time, a fellow

traveller, who, though he took no medicine, was less cautious than

myself, and less fortunate. Perhaps his very recklessness served as a

warning to me. In truth, without being much of a theologian, I have

sometimes thought that the errors of mankind were intended in the divine

plan--at least in part--for this very end. Happy, then, if this is so,

are they who make a wise use of them!

Forty Years in the Wilderness of Pills and Powders Cogitations and Confessions of an Aged Physician · 第 9 / 56 章