THE LOST MEDICAL PAPERS OF THE BRITISH ASSOCIATION.

"It is somewhat remarkable," observe the journals of the past week, "that

the medical division of this scientific meeting has not contributed one

single paper this year in furtherance of its object, although the

communications from that section have usually been of a highly important

character."

The journals may think it somewhat remarkable--we do not at all; for here,

as in every other event of the day, a great deal depends upon being

"behind the curtain;" and as the greater portion of our life is passed in

that locality, we are always to be relied upon for authenticity in our

statements. The plain truth is, that the papers were inadvertently lost,

and rather than lead to some unpleasant disclosures, in which the eminent

professor to whom they were entrusted would have been deeply implicated,

it was thought best to say nothing about them. By chance they fell into

the hands of the manager of one of our perambulating theatres, who was

toiling his way from the west of England to Egham races, and having

deposited them in his portable green-room, under the especial custody of

the clown, the doctor, and the overbearing parochial authority, he duly

remitted them to our office. We have been too happy in giving them a place

in our columns, feeling an honest pride in thus taking the lead of the

chief scientific publications of the day. It will be seen that they are

drawn up as a report, all ready for publication, according to the usual

custom of such proceedings, where every one knows beforehand what they are

to dispute or agree with.

Dr. Splitnerve communicated a remarkable case of Animal Magnetism:--Eugene

Doldrum, aged 21, a young man of bilious and interesting temperament,

having been mesmerized, was rendered so keenly magnetic, as to give rise

to a most remarkable train of phenomena. On being seated upon a

music-stool, he immediately becomes an animated compass, and turns round

to the north. Knives and forks at dinner invariably fly towards him, and

he is not able to go through any of the squares, in consequence of being

attracted firmly to the iron railings. As most of the experiments took

place at the North London Hospital, Euston-square was his chief point of

attraction, and when he was removed, it was always found necessary to

break off the railings and take them away with him. This accounted for the

decrepit condition of the _fleur de lys_ that surround the inclosure,

which was not, as generally supposed, the work of the university pupils

residing in Gower-place. Perfect insensibility to pain supervened at the

same time, and his friends took advantage of this circumstance to send

him, by way of delicate compliment, to a lying-in lady, in the style of a

pedestrian pin-cushion, his cheeks being stuck full of minikin pins, on

the right side, forming the words "Health to the Babe," and on the left,

"Happiness to the Mother."

Dr. Mortar read a talented paper on the cure of strabismus, or squinting,

by dividing the muscles of the eye. The patient, a working man, squinted

so terribly, that his eyes almost got into one another's sockets; and at

times he was only able to see by looking down the inside of his nose and

out at the nostrils. The operation was performed six weeks ago, when, on

cutting through the muscles, its effects were instantly visible: both the

eyes immediately diverging to the extreme outer angles of their respective

orbits.

Dr. Sharpeye inquired if the man did not find the present state of his

vision still very perplexing.

Dr. Mortar replied, that so far from injuring his sight, it had proved

highly beneficial, as the patient had procured a very excellent situation

in the new police, and received a double salary, from the power he

possessed of keeping an eye upon both sides of the road at the same time.

[Illustration: WILL YOU LOOK THIS WAY, IF YOU PLEASE?]

An elaborate and highly scientific treatise was then read by Dr. Sexton,

upon a disease which had been very prevalent in town during the spring,

and had been usually termed the influenza. He defined it as a disease of

convenience, depending upon various exciting causes acting upon the mind.

For instance:--

Mrs. A----, a lady residing in Belgrave-square, was on the eve of giving a

large party, when, upon hearing that Mr. A---- had made an unlucky

speculation in the funds, the whole family were seized with influenza so

violently, that they were compelled to postpone the reunion, and live upon

the provided supper for a fortnight afterwards.

Miss B---- was a singer at one of our large theatres, and had a part

assigned to her in a new opera. Not liking it, she worried herself into an

access of influenza, which unluckily seized her the first night the opera

was to have been played.

But the most marked case was that of Mr. C----, a clerk in a city house of

business, who was attacked and cured within three days. It appeared that

he had been dining that afternoon with some friends, who were going to

Greenwich fair the next day, and on arriving at home, was taken ill with

influenza, so suddenly that he was obliged to despatch a note to that

effect to his employer, stating also his fear that he should be unable to

attend at his office on the morrow. Dr. Sexton said he was indebted for an

account of the progress of his disease to a young medical gentleman,

clinical clerk at a leading hospital, who lodged with the patient in

Bartholomew-close. The report had been drawn up for the _Lancet_, but Dr.

S. had procured it by great interest.

MAY 30, 1841, 11 P.M.--Present symptoms:--Complains of his

employer, and the bore of being obliged to be at the office next

morning. Has just eaten a piece of cold beef and pickles, with a

pint of stout. Pulse about 75, and considerable defluxion from the

nose, which he thinks produced by getting a piece of Cayenne pepper

in his eye. Swallowed a crumb, which brought on a violent fit of

coughing. Wishes to go to bed.

MAY 31, 9 A.M.--Has passed a tolerable night, but appears restless,

and unable to settle to anything. Thinks he could eat some broiled

ham if he had it; but not possessing any, has taken the following:

Rx--Infus. coffee lbj

Sacchari [symbol: dram]iij

Lactis Vaccæ [symbol: ounce]j

Ft. mistura, poculum mane sumendum.

A plaster ordered to be applied to the inside of the stomach,

consisting of potted bloater spread upon bread and butter.

Eleven, A.M.--Appears rather hotter since breakfast. Change of air

recommended, and Greenwich decided upon.

Half-past 11.--Complains of the draught and noise of the

second-class railway carriages, but is otherwise not worse. Thinks

he should like "a drain of half-and-half." Has blown his nose once

in the last quarter of an hour.

Two, P.M.--Since a light dinner of rump steaks and stout, a

considerable change has taken place. He appears labouring under

cerebral excitement and short pipes, and says he shall have a

regular beanish day, and go it similar to bricks. Calls the waiter

up to him in one of the booths, and has ordered "a glass of

cocktail with the chill off and a cinder in it."

Three, P.M.--Has sallied out into the fair, still much excited,

calling every female he meets "Susan," and pronouncing the s's with

a whistling accent. Expresses a desire to ride in the ships that go

round and round.

Half-past 3.--The motion of the ships has tended considerably to

relieve his stomach. Pulse slow and countenance pale, with a desire

for a glass of ale. Has entered a peepshow, and is now arguing with

the exhibitor upon the correctness of his view of the siege of "St.

Jane Daker!" which he maintains was a sea-port, and not a field

with a burning windmill, as represented in the view.

Eight, P.M.--After rambling vaguely about the fair all the

afternoon, he has decided upon taking a hot-air bath in Algar's

Crown and Anchor booth. Evidently delirious. Has put on a false

nose, and purchased a tear-coat rattle. Appears labouring under

violent spasmodic action of the muscles of his legs, as he dances

"Jim along Josey," when he sets to his partner in a country dance

of eighty couple.

Half-past 10, P.M.--Has just intimated that he does not see the use

of going home, as you can always go there when you can go nowhere

else. Is seated straddling across one of the tables, on which he is

beating time to the band with a hooky stick. Will not allow the

state of his pulse to be ascertained, but says we may feel his fist

if we like.

Eleven.--Considerable difficulty experienced in getting the patient

to the railroad, but we at last succeeded. After telling every one

in the carriage "that he wasn't afraid of any of them," he fell

into a deep stertorous sleep. On arriving at home, he got into bed

with his boots on, and passed a restless night, turning out twice

to drink water between one and four.

JUNE.--10, A.M.--Has just returned from his office, his employer

thinking him very unfit for work, and desiring him to lay up for a

day or two. Complains of being "jolly seedy," and thinks he shall

go to Greenwich again to get all right.

A thrilling paper upon the "Philosophy of death," was then read by

Professor Wynne Slow. After tracing the origin of that fatal attack, which

it appears the earliest nations were subject to, the learned author showed

profound research in bringing forward the various terms applied to the act

of dying by popular authors. Amongst the principal, he enumerated "turning

your toes up," "kicking the bucket," "putting up your spoon," "slipping

your wind," "booking your place," "breaking your bellows," "shutting up

your shop," and other phrases full of expression.

The last moments of remarkable characters were especially dwelt upon, in

connexion, more especially, with the drama, which gives us the best

examples, from its holding a mirror up to nature. It appeared that at

Astley's late amphitheatre, the dying men generally shuffled about a great

deal in the sawdust, fighting on their knees, and showing great

determination to the last, until life gave way; that at the Adelphi the

expiring character more frequently saw imaginary demons waiting for him,

and fell down, uttering "Off, fiends! I come to join you in your world of

flames!" and that clowns and pantaloons always gave up the ghost with

heart-rending screams and contortions of visage, as their deaths were

generally violent, from being sawn in half, having holes drilled in them

with enormous gimlets, or being shot out of cannon; but that, at the same

time, these deaths were not permanent.

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Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 1, September 5, 1841 · 第 50 / 58 题