16. Les Voila
"A man in many a country town, we know,
Professes openly with death to wrestle;
Entering the field against the grimly foe,
Armed with a mortar and a pestle."- Colman, tlie Younger
To give a full detail of all the physicians, real or pretended, who visited that devoted town of Clinton, during the next few weeks, would require more space than I am disposed to allow. I will briefly mention a few of the most prominent.
First in order came a disciple of the renowned Dr. Graham, who gave a formidable course of lectures, and established himself in the village, with the hope of obtaining proselytes. He was truly a man of one idea, dietetics. He began his first lecture with the ominous quotation, "We dig our graves with our teeth." He then proceeded to demonstrate that all the evils to which human beings are liable, result either from intemperance in eating, or from the use of improper articles of food. The Clintonians, with the exception of the grocers, were so reasonable as to nod assent, when he affirmed that the gout was caused chiefly by wine and brandy ; but, when his censures were leveled at certain delicious edibles, which had always been considered perfectly harmless, all who regarded eating even as a minor pleasure, shook their heads, and loyally returned to the doctrines by which they had previously been guided. "When mince pie, that pride of the housewife, who never thinks that too many ingredients can be blended in this most complex and mysterious of dainties, was denounced as prime agent in the cause of disease, every matron whispered to her next neighbor, that the man was evidently unendowed with the most prevalent of Nature's gifts, plain common-sense. When he condemned the practice of fattening fowls for New England's great, but most matter-offact festival, Thanksgiving, as worthy only of the degraded epicures of ancient Sybaris, every farmer who had honored Albion Hall with his presence, was ready to aim, at least, a pitchfork, at the head of the gaunt figure so eloquently declaiming against usages which had existed from what they considered "time immemorial." When he denounced spice and pepper as substances having a direct tendency to shorten life, several aged ladies and gentlemen, who had eaten food prepared with condiments from their infancy, shrugged their venerable shoulders in utter disdain at what they regarded the lecturer's ignorance. When he inveighed against the various forms of candy and comfit, the children's lips quivered for one moment, but danced in merry smiles the next, as they saw the stern visage of their staunch friend the confectioner, who, if any truth may be found in physiognomy, looked ready to challenge the Grahamite to mortal combat. When, moreover, the haggard orator, for, in personal appearance he was a living skeleton, remonstrated with his auditors concerning the quantity of food generally taken, affirming, with great solemnity, that they eat far more than was requisite for the sustenance of life, several apoplectic veterans boldly declared that they would rather die of repletion than of inanition. "When he loudly fulminated against the use of salt, so commonly demanded to render food palatable, and averred that this practice, universal as it had become, was of a highly destructive nature, every individual in the hall began to regard the speaker as a promising candidate for the retreat at Worcester. When, also, he asserted that meat, if eaten at all, would be far less detrimental to the health, if, instead of being allowed to come in contact with fire, it were served up in its crude state, every hearer viewed him as one who had actually escaped from said retreat, and who was no longer to be trusted among people yet retaining possession of their sanity.
This Grahamite was not, however, one of the most rigid graduates of his school. Although he prudently paused before reaching its most extravagant rules, he went quite too far for the inhabitants of Clinton, the majority of whom were accustomed cordially to sympathize with the royal bard, when he gratefully exclaimed, "Who satisfieth thy mouth with good things, so that thy youth is renewed like the eagle's."
Before the Clintonians had recovered from the effects of the Grahamite's strictures, they were thrown into consternation by the necessity of listening to the doctrines promulgated by a lecturer of quite a different order. He styled himself a Thomsonian physician. Steam was his ruling idea. Only one lecture was given by this claimant for popular favor. The exordium was a bold declaration that the life of every one was in peril, until the same medical system was held which he was about to explain that evening. The people raised their eyes in astonishment, and wondered that they had already lived so long. With due heed did they listen to the arguments of the advocate of Steam. Although not highly educated, he was intelligent and entertaining, so that he commanded the attention of all. He expatiated upon the good which had been effected by the application of the vapor bath, and by the swallowing of cayenne and other scorching medicines. This part was very terrible to the lovers of Nature's pure beverage, sparkling fresh from the hill-side. The peroration consisted of a heart-stirring appeal to the Clintonians, to avail themselves of his excellent apparatus for the administration of vapor baths.
Whatever benefit some classes of patients might have derived from his system, if moderately pursued, the extravagance of this lecturer defeated his object. All the invalids of the place preferred ice cream and strawberries to Cayenne and hot drops ; and the refreshing cold bath to the enervating vapor. He soon left the place, taking with him his whole stock of Heclaian medicines, and his excellent Vesuvian apparatus.
Next came a most extraordinary pretender. His claims to notice were not founded upon any educational advantages. He had not walked the hospitals of Europe, in quest of thorough, practical knowledge. He could not even exhibit a diploma granted by any American institution. The garb in which his thoughts were clothed did, indeed, betray that he had received no education worthy of the name. But he made not the slightest attempt to conceal his ignorance. He actually boasted that he was indebted to neither books nor lectures for his art. He had a patent which, he averred, no one could dispute. Nature had singled him from among men as a healer of disease. On him, had she bestowed a glorious distinction, of which any learned doctor would have been proud. Not one of England's titled sons had received a nobler heritage. Greater were his heraldic honors than those belonging to the sons of the peerage. He was - the seventh son of a seventh son. As such, who could dispute his right to practice without overcoming one of those obstacles which are placed in the way of Gladouta not thus royally descended!
But Ills claims were advanced very near the middle of the nineteenth century. Even then were people discussing the question concerning the true center of the great circle. The subject had been introduced at every fireside. In the highly cultivated town of Clinton, the seventh son of a seventh son should not have expected to receive much attention. Mr. Stanson did, however, request him to come and prescribe for his wife, whose symptoms were daily becoming more and more alarming. But, when the anxious husband, accompanied by the inheritor of medical power, entered by the front door, the patient, with fearful majesty of mien, vanished through the opposite portal, taking with her " Milton on Divorce."
After the lapse of one week, during which, the new-comer was consulted by no other person, he sadly departed in the way that he had come, a simple pedestrian, with his wardrobe inclosed in a blue and yellow cotton handkerchief.
I say nothing of a very entertaining type doctor with his curious symbols. I pause not to dilate upon the merits of a mysterious Indian seer. I disdain to call your attention to a noted empiric, with his one remedy for every kind of disease.
I here dismiss the worshipful company of physicians, by whom the devoted town of Clinton was awhile infested. Early in the autumn, the field was again clear. All had disappeared, save the longestablished resident. Dr. Perry again walked proudly through the streets of the village, and rode cheerily over the hills to the more distant farms. His apothecary, also, who, during the whole summer, had been in a woful state of nervous agitation, so that he could hardly distinguish between senna, calomel, and sanguinaria, now joyously deciphered recipes, and merrily plied his pestle and mortar.