STRUCK WITH DEATH.
Throughout the region where I was brought up, and perhaps throughout the
civilized world, the notion has long prevailed that in some of the last
moments of a person's life, he is or may be "struck with death;" by
which, I suppose the more intelligent simply mean that such a change
comes over him as renders his speedy departure to the spirit-world
inevitable.
Now that we are really justified in saying of many persons who are in
their last moments, that they are beyond the reach of hope, is doubtless
true. When decomposition, for instance, has actually commenced, and the
vital organs have already begun to falter, it would be idle to conceal
the fact, were we able to do so, that life is about to be extinguished
beyond the possibility of doubt.
In general, however, it is never quite impossible for the sick to
recover even after recovery _seems_ to be impossible. So many instances
of this kind have been known, that we ought at least, to be exceedingly
cautious about pronouncing with certainty, and to encourage rather than
repel the application of the old saying, "as long as there is life,
there is hope."[C]
I had a lesson on this subject while a medical student, which was
exceedingly instructive, and which, if I were to live a thousand years,
I could never forget. It was worth more to me in practical life
afterward, than all my books and recitations would have been without it.
The facts were these:--
My teacher of medicine used occasionally to take his students with him
when he rode abroad on his professional visits. One day, it fell to my
lot to bear him company. His patient was an aged farmer, a teamster
rather, who had been for some time ill of a fever, and had not been
expected to recover. Yet his case was not so desperate but that the
physician was expected to continue his daily visits.
On our arrival at the house of the sick man, we were met by a member of
the family, who said, "Come in, doctor, but you are too late to do us
any good. Mr. H. is struck with death; all the world could not save him
now."
We entered the room. There lay the patient almost gone, surely. So at
least, at the first view, it appeared. It was a hot summer day, and
hardly a breath of air was stirring. The friends were gathered around
the bed, and there was less freedom of circulation in the air of the
sick-room than elsewhere. It was almost enough to kill a healthy man to
be shut up in such a stagnant atmosphere; what, then, must have been the
effect on one so sick and feeble?
The doctor beckoned them away from the bed, and requested them to open
another window. They did it rather reluctantly; but then, _they did it_.
The sufferer lay panting, as if the struggle was almost over. "Don't you
think he is struck with death, doctor?" whispered one and another and
another. Almost out of patience, the doctor at length replied: "Struck
with death? What do you mean? No; he is no more struck with death than I
am. He is struck much more with the heat and bad air. Raise another
window."
The window was raised. "Now," said he, "set that door wide open." It was
quickly done. "Now bring me a bowl of water, and a teaspoon." The bowl
of water was quickly brought. "Put a little water into his mouth with
the teaspoon," said he. "O doctor," they replied, "it will only distress
him; he is already struck with death."--"Try it then, and see."
Tremblingly they now moistened his parched lips. "Put a little of it in
his mouth, with the teaspoon," he said. They shuddered; the doctor
persisted. "Why," said the attendant, "he has not been able to swallow
any thing these two hours." "How do you know?" said he. "Why, he has
been all the while struck with death."--"Nonsense! have you tried it?"
"Tried it? oh, no; by no means."--"Why not?"--"Because we knew it would
only distress him. He is too far gone to swallow, doctor; you may rely
on it."
The physician's patience was now well nigh exhausted, as well it might
have been, and seizing the bowl and teaspoon with his own sacrilegious
hands, "I will see," said he, "whether he is struck with death or not."
He not only wetted his lips and tongue, as they had partially done
before, but gradually insinuated a few drops of Nature's best and only
drink, into the top of his throat. At last he swallowed! The doctor's
hopes revived; while the family stood as if themselves struck, not with
death, but with horror. At length, he swallowed again and again. In half
an hour, he opened his eyes; before we left him, he had become quite
sensible, and, had we encouraged it, might have spoken.
To make my story as short as possible, the next day he could swallow a
little gruel. The third day, he could be raised upon the bed. The
fourth, though still weak, he was dressed and sat up an hour. In a
fortnight, he was once more driving his team; and for ought I know to
the contrary, unless debarred by reason of age, he may be driving it at
this very moment!
Going home together from our visit, already so fully described, the
conversation turned on the silly notion which so extensively prevails
about being struck with death. We talked of its origin, its influence,
and its consequences. It had done no good in the world, while it had
been the means, we could not doubt, of indirectly destroying thousands
of valuable lives.
OF ITS ORIGIN.--How came the notion abroad that a person can be struck
with death, so affected that there is no possible return for him, to
life and health? Struck! By whom? Is there a personage, spiritual but
real, that strikes? Is it the Divine Being? Surely not. Is it an arch
enemy? is it Satan himself?
"No day, no glimpse of day, to solve the knot."
The doctor and I had, however, one conjecture concerning it, which, if
it should not instruct the reader, may at least, afford him a little
amusement. It certainly amused us.
You have seen the old-fashioned New England Primer. It has been in
vogue, I believe, a full century; perhaps nearer two centuries. It has
done not a little to give shape to New England character. In its
preliminary pages is a sort of alphabet of couplets, with cuts prefixed
or annexed. One of the couplets reads thus:--
"Youth forward slips,
Death soonest nips."
While at its left, is the representation of a skeleton, armed with a
dagger, and pursuing a youth--a child rather--with the apparent
intention of striking him through. Now I cannot say how this picture may
have affected others, but to my medical teacher and myself, as we
mutually agreed, it always brings up the idea of striking down a youth
or child prematurely, and sending him away to the great congregation of
the dead.
Nor am I quite sure that this representation, innocent as may have been
its intention, has not been the origin of a relentless and cruel
superstition. I know certainly, that my own early notions about being
struck with death, had, somehow or other, a connection with this
picture; and why may it not be so with others?
But the _influence_ and _consequences_ of this superstition must be
adverted to for a moment. I said they affect and have affected
thousands; perhaps I ought to have said millions. Under the confused and
preposterously silly idea that Death, the personification of Satan or
some other demon, has laid hold of the sick or distressed, and that it
would be a sort of useless, not to say sacrilegious, work to oppose, or
attempt to oppose, the grim messenger, we sometimes leave our sick
friends in the greatest extremity, to suffer and perhaps die, when the
gentle touch of a kind hand, a mere drop of water, or a breath of fresh
air, might often bring them back again to life and health and happiness
and usefulness.
If this chapter should not be deemed a confession of medical impotence,
it is at least a practical confession of medical selfishness or
ignorance. If duly enlightened themselves, medical men ought long ago,
to have rid society of this abominable superstition; and if not
sufficiently enlightened to perceive its existence and evil tendency,
they ought to have abandoned their profession.
FOOTNOTES:
[C] Dr. Livingstone, in his work of Travels and Researches in Africa,
tells us that during his residence among the Backwains, a tribe in the
African interior, two persons who had been hastily buried, perhaps
"struck with death" in the first place, returned home "to their
affrighted relatives." p. 143.