CHAPTER XXVII.

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.