A DOSING AND DRUGGING FAMILY.
For several months of the first year of my medical life, I was a boarder
in a family, all of whom were sickly. Some of the number were even
continually or almost continually under the influence of medicine, if
not of physicians. Here my trials were various, and some of them severe.
But I must give you a particular description of this family; for I have
many things to say concerning it, some of which may prove instructive.
Mr. L. had been brought up a farmer; but being possessed of a delicate
constitution, had been subsequently converted into a country
shop-keeper,--a dealer, I mean, in dry goods and groceries. As is usual
in such cases, he was in the habit of keeping a small assortment of
drugs and medicines. The circumstance of having medicine always at hand,
and often _in_ hand, had led him, as it has thousands of others, into
temptation, till he had formed and confirmed the habit of frequent
dosing and drugging his frail system. But as usually happens in such
cases, the more medicine he took, the more he seemed to require, and
consequently the more he swallowed. One thing prepared the way for
another.
With Mrs. L. matters were still worse. In the vain belief that without a
course of medication, _she could never have any constitution_, as she
was wont to express it, her mother had begun to dose and drug her as
early as at the age of twelve or fourteen years. And what had been thus
early begun, had been continued till she was twenty-four, when she
married Mr. L. But she was feebler, if possible, at twenty-four, than at
fourteen, and believed herself under the necessity of taking medicine in
order to be able to sit up a part of the day and perform a little
light, but needful, family labor, such as sewing, mending, etc.
When I first had a seat at their family table, it was by no means
uncommon for Mr. and Mrs. L. to begin their meal, as soon as "grace" was
over, with Stoughton's bitters, or some other supposed cordial, or
strengthener of the appetite. As I not only refused to join them, but
occasionally spoke a kind word against the custom into which they had
fallen, the bitters at length fell into disuse; and it was found that
their meals could be digested as well without the stimulus, as with its
aid.
But I was much less successful in preventing the torrent of medicine
from producing its wonted ---- upon this family, at other times and
seasons; for which Mr. L.'s business furnished such facilities. But you
must not think of Mrs. L. as a mere tyro in this business of compounding
medicine, nor in that of administering it, especially to herself. From
the apothecary's shop of her husband, as well as from other sources, she
selected one thing after another, not merely for the time, but for
permanent purposes, till it was almost difficult to say which had the
best assortment, she or her husband. And she not only had it on hand,
but she took it, as freely, almost so, as her food and drink.
More than even this should be affirmed. Had she at any time flagged in
this work of self-destruction, she would have been brought up again to
the line by her mother. For though the latter resided at a considerable
distance, she paid Mrs. L. an occasional visit, and sometimes remained
in the family several weeks. Whenever she did so, little was heard of in
the usual hours of conversation,--especially at the table,--but Sarah's
stomach, Sarah's nerves, and what was good for Sarah. It was enough to
make one _sick at the stomach_, to witness the conversation even for a
single day; and above all to be compelled to join in it.
She was there once, in the early spring, and remained until the ground
was fairly settled. No sooner could she get into the woods, and come to
the naked surface of the earth, than the whole country around was laid
under tribute to furnish roots "good for the blood." These were put
into a beer to be prepared for Sarah. It was supposed by many,--and by
this wondrous wise old lady, among the rest,--that the efficacy of these
medicinal beers in cleansing the blood, must ever be in due proportion
to the number of their respective ingredients. Thus, if twenty articles,
"good for the blood," could be procured and boiled in the wort, the
result would be a compound which would be worth twenty times as much, or
at least be _many_ times as useful, in accomplishing its supposed
specific purpose, as if only one kind of root had been obtained.
It was a long time before I could break in upon this tissue of error, to
any practical purpose. For so deeply imbedded in the human brain is the
idea of purifying the blood by some such unnatural means, that one might
almost as well think of building a railroad to the moon, as of
overcoming it. They never thought--perhaps never knew--that the blood of
the human body of to-day, will be little more the blood of the body
to-morrow, than the river which flows by our door to-day will be the
river of to-morrow; and that the one can no more be purified
independently of any and all things else, than the other.
But it is said to be a long road which never turns. Some good
impressions had been made on this family, as we shall see hereafter.
Not, indeed, until there had been much unnecessary suffering, and many
an unwilling penalty paid for transgression, as well as much money
uselessly expended for physicians and medicine. For though I was
somewhat a favorite in the family, I was as yet young and inexperienced,
and many a wiser head than mine was from time to time invoked, and much
time and money lost in other ways, that might have been saved for better
and nobler purposes.
Among the items of loss, as well as of penalty, was that of offspring.
These were generally still-born. One, indeed, lived about two weeks and
then perished. The parents seemed to be written childless. Or rather,
they seemed to have written themselves so. They seemed destined
moreover, to follow their premature children, at no great distance, to
an untimely grave. For nothing was more obvious--I mean to the medical
observer--than at an age when everybody ought to be gaining in bodily no
less than in mental and moral vigor, they were both of them growing
feeble as well as irresolute.
As a boarder, I left the family some time afterward, though I did not
lose sight of it wholly; nor did they entirely forget or disregard the
numerous hints I had given them. They made some progress every year. At
length, however, I lost sight of them entirely, and only kept up a faint
recollection of them by means of an occasional word of intelligence from
the place where they resided, showing that they were still alive.
One day, after the lapse of about eight years, as I was passing through
a charming New England village, the stage-coach stopped to let the
passengers dine, when, to my great surprise, on stepping out of the
coach, whom should I see but my old friend Mr. L.? He was equally
surprised, and perhaps equally rejoiced, to see me. The interview was
utterly unexpected to us both.
"How do you do?" said he, grasping my hand. I returned the compliment by
inquiring after his own health and that of Mrs. L. It turned out that he
had failed in his business a few months before, and that, as a
consequence, he had been compelled to remove to the place where he now
was, and engage in an employment which brought his skin into contact
with the air, and his muscles into prolonged and healthful activity. It
appeared also that both he and his family had long since banished the
use of medicine. "And now," said he, "thank God I know what it is, once
more, to enjoy health; I can not only eat, but work."
It was Monday, the great _washing-day_ of Yankee house-keepers; and
while we were talking together with so much earnestness, that, like
Milton's first pair in innocence, we "forgot all time," a female
approached, with her sleeves rolled up, greeted me with much cordiality
and seized me by the hand. "Can this be Mrs. L.?" I asked. How changed!
She was, it is true, like her husband, a little sunburnt; but then she
was as she assured me, and, as I had every reason for believing to be
true, comparatively healthy.
While I was still in amazement, hardly knowing whether I was awake or
dreaming, a little girl approached us. Though somewhat slender and
delicate, she was only slightly diseased; rather, she was only
predisposed to disease by inheritance; and mere predispositions no more
destroy us, than a train of powder explodes without igniting. The girl
was about four or five years old. "Who is this?" I inquired. "Not yours,
most certainly," I added, turning to Mr. and Mrs. L. "We call her ours,"
they said, "and yours; for we, no doubt, owe her life and health, in no
small degree, to your instructions."--"This," said I, "is what I little
expected to see; but you may thank God for it rather than me, since she
lives by virtue of obedience to his laws, and not mine. Then you are not
only pretty healthy yourselves," I added, "but you have a healthy
child."--"We have two," said they. "The other is in the cradle; we will
go and bring her."
At this moment, the loud declaration, "The coach is ready, gentlemen,"
reminded us that our conversation was at an end for the present, and we
were obliged to separate. Not, however, till we had enjoyed a most
luxurious mental repast in "the feast of reason, and the flow of soul,"
with no abatement but the consciousness, on my part, of a little loss to
the landlord, who had provided for the passengers a smoking dinner.
This, reader, to speak somewhat paradoxically, was one of the proudest,
and yet one of the humblest days of my life. To have been the
Heaven-appointed instrument of such a marked change for the better in a
human family, was more than could have been foreseen or even expected.
It is more than has often fallen to my lot. True, I do not hesitate to
regard it as an extreme case; and yet it is, in magnitude, just what I
could show you in miniature, at various points in the same vicinity, and
indeed, all over the country.
Mr. and Mrs. L. still pursue the even tenor of their way, and have their
reward in it. One of their two daughters,--buds of early
promise,--though probably more or less scrofulous, hardly reached
maturity, ere she descended to the tomb. The rest enjoy a tolerable
degree of health. Of course, I do not speak of their health as greater
than that of the average of mankind, notwithstanding their thorough
reformation. It is much, all things considered, that it should be equal
to that average.
As for the mother of Mrs. L., who still occasionally visits the family,
she looks on in silent amazement, hardly knowing whether to recommend
any more beer, with all sorts of roots good for the blood in it, or
whether to give up the pursuit. I believe, however, that she does not
often presume to interfere with their habits. Perhaps she has
learned--if not, she may possibly live long enough to acquire the
lesson,--to "let well alone," as her children and grandchildren already
have. I certainly hope she has. It will conduce greatly to her health
and happiness, as well as make her a better citizen and better
Christian.