The Funny Side of Physic Part 65

"Here lie my old bones; my vexation now ends; I have lived much too long for myself and my friends.

As to churches and churchyards, which men may call holy, 'Tis a rank piece of priestcraft, and founded on folly.

What the next world may be never troubled my pate; And, be what it may, I beseech you, O Fate, When the bodies of millions rise up in a riot, To let the old carcase of Monsey lie quiet."

The above reminds me of another epitaph in Greenwood:

"Underneath this turf do lie, Back to back, my wife and I.

Generous stranger, spare the tear, For could she speak, I cannot hear.

Happier far than when in life, Free from noise and free from strife, When the last trump the air shall fill, If she gets up, I'll just lie still!"

"WHEN DOCTORS DISAGREE."

The eccentricities of some doctors lie in their abuse of their brothers; especially those of a different school, of which they necessarily know little or nothing.

There is a Hindoo story ill.u.s.trative of the folly of this _ex parte_ decision.

Four blind men went to examine an elephant, to ascertain what it was like.

One felt of its foot, the second its trunk, the third its ear, and the last felt of its tail. Then they held a consultation, and began to talk it up.

"The elephant is very much like a mortar," said the one who had felt of the foot.

"It is like a pestle," said the one who had felt of its trunk.

"No; you are both wrong. It's like a fan," said he who had felt of the ears.

"You are all mistaken; it is like a broom," vehemently exclaimed the man who had felt of the tail. The dispute grew warm. Each was sure he was right, because he had personally examined for himself. Then they waxed angry, and a lasting quarrel grew out of it; so, in the end, they were all as ignorant of the truth as when they began the investigation.

The diversity of medical opinion on diet is equally as great as on prescription, and often partakes largely of the notion or eccentricity of the individual physician, rather than the requirements of the patient.

One is an advocate of animal diet; another is a strict Grahamite, or vegetarian, and a third is an animo-vegetarian, which, according to the two kinds of teeth given to man,--the tearing, or canine, and the grinding teeth,--seems to be the most rational decision. Then there is the slop-doctor. I know of one in Connecticut. He weighs about two hundred and fifty pounds. He breakfasts on the richest steak, dines on roast beef, and sups on a fowl. Every patient he has is a victim to "typhoid fever: the result is inflammation of the glands of the stomach, and induced by too hearty food;" hence the patient is starved a month on slop or gruel.

This doctor was formerly a Methodist preacher, and--

"Exhausting all _persuasive_ means to light Our fallen race to Virtue's glorious height, To Medicine gives his comprehensive mind, And fills his pockets while he cures mankind.

He scorns M. D.'s, at all hard study sneers, And soon the science of its mystery clears.

_His_ knowledge springs intuitive and plain, As Pallas issued from the Thunderer's brain.

He takes a patent for some potent pill Whose cure is certain--for it cures to kill.

Such mighty powers in its materials lurk, It grows, like Gibbon's Rome, a standard _work_!

Pill-militant, he storms the forts of pain, Where grim Disease has long entrenched lain, Routs fevers, agues, colics, colds, and gouts, Nor ends the war till life itself he routs.

If of his skill you wish some pregnant hints, Peruse the gravestones, not the public prints!

To aid his work, and fame immortal win, Brings steam from physics into medicine; From speeding packets o'er th' Atlantic waste, O'er Styx's stream old Charon's boat to haste, Proving that steam for double use is fit-- To whirl men _through_ the world, and _out_ of it!"

The difference in the item of sleep is amusing. I know a poor, worn-out doctor who finds all health in early rising. Let us refer him to the following, by John G. Saxe:--

EARLY RISING.

"G.o.d bless the man who first invented sleep!"

So Sancho Panza said, and so say I: And bless him also that he didn't keep His great discovery to himself, nor try To make it--as the lucky fellow might-- A close monopoly by patent right.

Yes, bless the man who first invented sleep (I really can't avoid the iteration); But blast the man, with curses loud and deep, Whate'er the rascal's name, or age, or station, Who first invented, and went round advising, That artificial cut-off--early rising.

"Rise with the lark, and with the lark to bed,"

Observes some solemn, sentimental owl: Maxims like these are very cheaply said; But ere you make yourself a fool or fowl, Pray, just inquire about his rise and fall, And whether larks have any beds at all.

The time for honest folks to be abed Is in the morning, if I reason right; And he who cannot keep his precious head Upon his pillow till it's fairly light, And so enjoy his forty morning winks, Is up to knavery; or else--he drinks.

Thomson, who sung about the "Seasons," said It was a glorious thing to _rise_ in season; But then he said it--lying--in his bed, At ten o'clock A. M.,--the very reason He wrote so charmingly. The simple fact is, His preaching wasn't sanctioned by his practice.

'Tis doubtless well to be sometimes awake,-- Awake to duty and awake to truth,-- But when, alas! a nice review we take Of our best deeds and days, we find, in sooth, The hours that leave the slightest cause to weep Are those we pa.s.sed in childhood, or asleep!

'Tis beautiful to leave the world a while For the soft visions of the gentle night; And free at last from mortal care or guile, To live as only in the angels' sight, In sleep's sweet realm so cosily shut in, Where, at the worst, we only _dream_ of sin.

So let us sleep, and give the Maker praise.

I like the lad who, when his father thought To clip his morning nap by hackneyed phrase Of vagrant worm by early songster caught, Cried, "Served him right!--it's not at all surprising; The worm was punished, sir, for early rising."

MOTHER GOOSE.

"Gabriel Betteredge," in "Moonstone," was doubtless a true character from life, picked up by the author, Wilkie Collins, somewhere in his travels. I think the best authors seldom have made up so good a character "out of whole cloth," but have gone to the highways and byways for them.

Betteredge's forte lay in Robinson Crusoe. That book was his guidance and solace in all his trials and perplexities. But what would you think of a doctor, a respectable graduate of a medical college, who sought, if not advice, recreation and solace in Mother Goose?

This M. D. resided a few years ago in A., New York State. He owned a large library, enjoyed the confidence of a large list of friends and patrons, and was a man of education and refinement. His eccentricity lay in his love of Mother Goose's Melodies. He kept a copy of these nursery rhymes at his very elbow, and often turned from a perplexing case, and sought solace in the jingling rhymes of old Mother Goose!

Well, that was certainly better than relieving his brain by the use of narcotic stimulants, as opium, tobacco, or ardent spirits, which use can only be followed at the expense of nerve, tissue, and membrane.

I have here before me an account of another physician, whose solace and relief from business cares were in his cats, of which he had several, all of which answered to their names. His attachment to these creatures was only equalled by theirs for him. Sometimes one or two perched on his shoulders and sang to him while he rested in his easy-chair. He seemed to drink in Lethean comforts, as thus he would remain for a half hour or more at a time, or till business broke the spell. When a patient came, or a servant announced a call, he would arise and say, "Pets, vamose!" and the cats would all scamper away to their nests, and the doctor, seemingly refreshed in body and mind, would return to the reality of life and its labors.

One's solace is in his children, another's in his wife, a third in his flower-garden; and others' in opium, rum, or tobacco.

THE TABLES TURNED.

Sometimes the doctor's oddity seemed to be in his silence, again in asking "outlandish" questions. Often they get a good return; for instance,--

Dr. G., of Sycamore, Ill., riding in the country one day, saw a sign upon a gate-post, reading thus: "This farm for sail." Stopping his horse, he hailed a little old woman, who stood on tiptoe, hanging out clothes.

"I say, madam, when is this farm going to _sail_?"

"Just as soon, sir," replied the old lady, placing her thumb to her nose, "as anybody comes along who can raise the wind."

The doctor drove thoughtfully on.

THE DIFFERENCE.

"A priest who was jogging along on an a.s.s was overtaken by a loquacious doctor, and, after some preliminary conversation as to the destination, etc., the doctor proposed that they each should ask a question, and the one who proposed the best should receive hospitality at the other's expense at the next town. The priest agreed, for he was a fat, jolly little fellow, who could enjoy a laugh and "some bottles," even at a doctor's expense. So the doctor proposed the following:--

"What is the difference between a priest and a jacka.s.s?"