.7*1) ■ £\ ■ ,.v; " -Mf\ « .> ./VVJb 'V&: .-r-A-,!H v ■ w * v < -h^v', i,!$&fc&»^^_£4i*^^ ■*^:f % M ■*£ NATIONAL LIBRARY OF MEDICINE Bethesda, Maryland Gift of Edward A. Beeman, M.D. ^/. Y - cWt/l- m » Vuk.'- *z<: rx tt Tq- T^f ' <=l MESTK \i p; ; & A s » lMK* '' ■' • i T vf>i F%*b:w » \:iB .>»^*7?A*:- i» ••.".. fi'iV t)/- DM'/' V»" • ct<.' ------------ - '■y jik ^rA TI: uSTAC n K F 7 * ^t *ocfc . *BB1 «■ ' ';^ *. BOLD TO SCBSCRIBERB ONLY. V 4 I >V* o-it :n" nsr' s NEW DOMESTIC PHYSICIAN: OR, HOME BOOK OF HEALTH. A Complete Guide for Families: GIVING MANT VALUABLE SUGGESTIONS FOB AVOIDING DISEASE AND PROLONGING LIFE, AND POINTING OUT IN FAMILIAR LANGUAGE THE CAUSES, SYMP- TOMS, TREATMENT AND CURE OF THE DISEASES INCIDENT TO, MEN, WOMEN AND CHILDREN, With the Simplest and Best Remedies; Also, Describing Minutely the Properties and Uses of Hundreds of Well-known MEDICINAL PLANTS. bit jomsr a. QTjnsrisr, hue. d., AUTHOR OF "GUNN'S DOMESTIC MEDICINE." WITH SUPPLEMENTARY TREATISES ON ANATOMY, PHYSIOLOGY, AND HYGIENE, AND ON NURSING THE SICK, AND THE MANAGEMENT OF THE SICK ROOM, WITH HINTS ON THE DRAINAGE OF PREMISES, THE PROPER VENTILA- TION OF DWELLINGS, etc. CINCINNATI: MOORE, WILSTACH, KEYS & CO., 26 WEST FOURTH STREET. 18 6 4. BOLD TO SCBSCRIBERB ONLY. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1857, By MOORE, WILSTACH, KEYS 4 CO.,. and JOHN C. GUNN, M. D., In tin Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, Bt MOORE, WILSTACH, KEYS * CO., and MIDDLETON, STROBRIDGE & CO., In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the Southern DUtrict of Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1863, BT MOORE, WILSTACH, KEYS 4 CO., and ELIJAH C. MIDDLETON, In the Clerk's C ffice of the District Court of the United States, for the Southern District of Ohio. NOTICES. From the "Ladies' Repository," (Methodist Monthly, edited by Rot. Dr. Clark.) Gunn's New Domestio Phybician. By J. C. Gunn, M. D—This is a ponderous 8vo. volume of over 1,000 pages. It covers a wide range in the Pharmacopoeia. We do not profess to be a very competent Judge of the matters of which it treats; but one thing has specially struck us, and that is the absence of all unpronounceable and ununderstandable technical terms and phrases. Its description of the symptoms of the various diseases our flesh is heir to, is simple, direct, and easily understood; and its directions as to remedial uses equally explicit. It has occurred to us, in examining such a book as this, that with such aid and a little careful observation many a parent might personally perform nearly all the medication a family would ever need. From the Western Christian Advocate. One of the real excellencies of this fine volume is, that it is written in a language that can be under- stood. If medical terms are employed, they are translated or explained, and brought within the compre* hension of ordinary people. This feature is in excellent taste. Another valuable characteristic of the work is, the healthy moral tone which pervades it. Like the " Great Physician," our author inculcates moral virtue at the same time that he heals the maladies of our bodies. He gives evidence of being what every physician ought to be—a Christian. The Christian physician stands next to the Christian minister in his means of usefulness to the souls of men. Irreverence and profanity are monstrous moral deformities any where ; but doubly bo in one who ought to be prepared to give counsel and consolation to tho suffering and dying. The size of the work, it being a large octavo volume of over 1000 pages, enables it to treat diseases and their remedies much more fully than is usual in similar treatises. The work embodies, as we learn from an examination, the accumulated experience of an extensive practice, running through a period of more than thirty-five years. Another recommendation of the book is, that the author is not a bigot. Although a regular-bred physician of the old school, he magnanimously credits to any medicine, from whatever Bchool originating, such virtues as a long experience has found serviceable to mankind. Of course we do not profess to be sufficiently skilled in the science of medicine to pass judgment on tho merits of the remedies proposed. But if we were sick, we should employ just such a physician as the author appears to be, if we could get one; and if his own healthy countenance, as evinced in the portrait at the beginning, has been the result of " taking his own medicine," we should be inclined to think that others should take it too, that is to say, when they need medicine. From the Elmira N. T. Gazette. BSTGunn's New Domestic Physician, is the title of a Medical work of rare merit, designed for Home use, to guide families in the selection of medicines for all the various ills to which flesh is heir. With the growing disposition among the American people to rely upon themselves, and less upon the doctors, in treating diseases, works like this hare become a necessary appendage to every family library. From the Central Christian Herald. Gunn's Domestic Physician.—We have examined this large volume, whose title we gave in full last week, with interest and profit. It is such a book as every family ought to have. The author gives in it a great deal of good advice in regard to health, habits of life, the indications and treatment of disease. Hia aim is evidently to be practical, and nearly all his suggestions commend themselves to the good sense of the unprofessional reader. He gives a reason for what he recommends, and has more confidence in pre- vention, and the invigoration of the system by judicious diet, fresh air and exercise than in nostrums. From the Presbyterian Witness. * * * Still more especially is a judicious and scientific work of this kind, written in familiar language and free from medical terms, useful to those who may be so situated that they can not at once command the services of a physician. Such a book has a legitimate office, in which it interferes with the rights and duties of no one. We find many things in it respecting the preservation of health and man- agement of disease, which commend themselves to the common sense of all. It is sufficient to say of the author's treatment of diseases, and the remedies recommended, that they have the testimonial of some ol the most eminent physicians in the country. F-om Godey's Lady's Boot. Taken altogether, morally as well as medicinally, we have no hesitation in saying, that it is the mosl lomplete, reliable, and instructive work of the kind that has ever come under our observation. It is sold duly on subscription, by authorized agents. From the Missouri Democrat, St. Louis. A Valuable Family Book.—Among the many useful and valuable books published in this country of late, on Jvarious important subjects it is difficult to conceive of one more useful to the people at large, to every body, young and old, than a good, reliable and complete family medical book. Heretofore the subjects of medicine, health and disease have been entrusted to the physician, while the people, too much engrossed with other matters, have allowed themselves to remain almost entirely ignorant of the lawg which regulate and control their physical being, or even the pathology and treatment of the commonest diseases. Why should we be content to remain ignorant of such important matters, and thus blindly we may say, intrust our dearest interests to others ? We say nothing against the medical profession. The physician is a useful member of society, and could not well be dispensed with; but it would be much better for both the physician and the patient, if the people generally possessed a more accurate knowledge of medicine and the human system. They could then more readily distinguish the educated and skillful physician from the empyricand pretender, whihfthey could also treat many of the simple and less dangerous diseases themselves, and thus often avoid, by taking them in time, a long spell of sickness, or a longer doctor'* bill Thorn id__ar\A wn era rr\aA t/\ baa i* n ™-„. .,;»«, J_______1_______n_. . « ... ..^.__v*-^» uma* medical work ever published This, as may he supposed, is a much superior work to the old one, and we Should hink that it was destmed to meet with an extensive sale. It is written in a most beautiful Btyle! yet so simple and plain that a child may understand it. The work contains an appendix on anatomy and fiX^tf^ I." IarWi°f^ttU^Wb^h * M jmD0rtant additioa- » «. without question, one of *he most valuable books of the day, and while we recommend every family to provide themselves with some jood work of this kind, we would also recommend them to examine this work before procuring any other PUBLISHERS' NOTICE. In presenting this enlarged edition of GUNN'S NEW DOMESTIC PHYSICIAN or HOME-BOOK OF HEALTH, it may not be amiss to say that the work has been constantly growing in public favor from the date of its first publication. Frequent additions have been made, augmenting the number of pages, so that the volume now contains over half as much more than it did when it was first pub- lished five years since. Within a very recent period, paper has nearly doubled in price and other book materials have advanced greatly in value, yet the pub- lishers now afford the work to families at a cheaper rate than when first issued. For every dollar paid, one fifth more matter is given, while the style of publica- tion has been greatly improved. The wonderful success which has attended its presentation, has been an ever present incentive to make the work as nearly perfect in its contents—as thoroughly adapted to the wants of those for whose benefit the anthor has written, as possi. ble. As no earthly good can be greatly valued without health, what can be more important than to fully understand the art of preserving it? In the present edition, many diseases are mentioned for the first time; and an entirely new treatise is given, forming a complete guide to the management of the sick room; teaching the careful reader, just " HOW TO NURSE THE SICK;" than which but few things can be more momentous or desirable. To relieve the Buffering, perhaps of those who have sickened in camp, or been stricken down on the field of battle, is certainly a noble mission 1 one that the gentler sex at least, and many of the Btronger, should be fitted for. Thus may the volume more clearly than ever demonstrate its great practical usefulness to its innumerable admirers, and ever- widening circle of friends. TO THE READER: My Publishers suggest that it will be advisable for me to inform the public that through the blessing of God, I am still alive, and in the enjoyment of good health, and thus able to contradict the rumor of mj decease. I am now preparing for publication my life, under the title of " THE POOR GENTLEMAN." It gives me great pleasure to express my acknowledgements to the public for the very kind and lib- eral patronage bestowed on my NEW DOMESTIC PHYSICIAN, OR HOME-BOOK OF HEALTH. I commend the work, In its present enlarged and greatly improved form, to the attention and patron- age of a discriminating public. I trust that through the blessing of the Almighty, it will be the meant of doing much good, by teaching how to avoid and mitigate the pains and Infirmities incident to suf fering humanity. * * • With great respect, your friend, JOHN C. GUNN, M. D. Louisville, Jan. SO. Much time has been spent in improving the index, which is now more than twice Its original site, thus rendering each subject treated of, readily accessible. Purchasers will bear in mind that this is not a new edition of the old work 11 Gunrit Domestic Medicine," which was published thirty years ago, but an eniirelt new work, first published in 1867, and now enlarged and perfected. PUBLISHERS. Cincinnati, February, 1863. PREFACE. In presenting to the public the Family Physician, it has been the object of our humble labors to condense into a cheap, convenient form, a useful Family Book for the poor and the afflicted, in plain language, free from medical names. At the same time, not to confine our efforts to medicine alone, we have endeavored to present a portion of that useful knowledge which leads to eternal life, and soothes the human spirit amidst its worldly afflictions. The general lack of knowledge respect- ing medicine and the laws of life, and health, and disease, renders peo- ple capable of being made the easy prey of the villainous quack; there- fore, a general spread of suitable knowledge among the people upon these subjects, is the only possible and sure means of effectually remov- ing from society this interminate and wide spread evil. The honest fears of some that the physician should alone prescribe, is a mistake. There is not that strangeness and marvelousness about medicine which many suppose; the administration is to be guided by good judgment and common sense, necessary qualities, which all physicians, and young practitioners generally, do not always possess. No knowledge is worth any thing unless founded on truth and experi- ence, and a long practice in my profession has fully convinced me that more favorable results take place from simple remedies, and good nurs- ing, than from eminent physicians who quarrel with each other for pre-eminence in fame, instead of endeavoring to enlighten and advance the happiness of, the human family. How many bring disgrace upon their profession by sustaining the dark shadows of ancient supersti- tions, instead of advocating the improvements of modern times. The chief object of their works is the rehearsal of former errors. Then let me, in plain language, tell you that the science of medicine is almost the only one characterized by uncertainty and chance. It appears to me then but fair to enlighten, as far as I can, the public mind on this important subject; for every one is interested in the prolongation of 5 6 PREFACE. life and health, and should be, in a country like ours, allowed the privi- lege of thinking for himself, if he does not choose to act. It is natural enough for the people to look to the medical profession for advice, and their services at times are very desirable, if they are well informed in their business. But that they should have an exclu- sive control, I can not admit. I respect the faculty, and I hope that I justly appreciate their important labors, and their kindness in recom- mending my former work—" Gunn's Domestic Medicine"—but I must honestly say, for the preservation of health and life, private individuals have often contributed information of the most valuable character, solely derived from unstudied, or, at least, from unprofessional experi- ence. And from the consideration that it is my duty, through the blessing of God, to afford to the sick and afflicted such seasonable advice, I have completed this Family BookA I am not attached to monopolies of any kind, and less than any to that which confines to a particular order, that information which teaches how to relieve sickness and pain. Having indulged these prefatory remarks, I would mention, that in preparing this Family Work for the public, I have examined with great care a large number of late medical books, and given nearly every new remedy of any value in the simplest language, adapted expressly to the use of families. This examination, together with my own experience, in a long series of years, in the active duties of my profession, enables me to offer a book to be relied upon, and which I am confident will not disappoint the expectations of my old friends and patrons. The increasing demand for my old book, and the many favorable notices from the press, in all parts of the country, have cheered me in my past labors, and encouraged me to enter upon a new work with increased zeal and energy. THE AUTHOR. GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. INTRODUCTION. Disease is not unfrequently the means of leading to the path of Virtue; it has a salutary operation on our moral constitution, and prepares us for the rewards of obedience. Death is a departure from the present scene; and we have good reason to conclude that with respect to those who have acted virtuously here, it is a transition to a more exalted state of being. No virtuous person, then, has reason to complain; the vicious ought to direct their murmurs and complaints, not against the Author of their existence and their enjoyments, but against their own follies and perversity, in often disobeying the dictates of reason and conscience, and so forfeiting that happiness and health, which the bountiful Creator has placed within their reach. When the sun of prosperity beams upon us, and our cup of enjoyment is full, we are too much disposed to forget the fountain from whence all our blessings flow. Hence God chastens us in mercy, to wean our affections from the world, to awaken us to some neglected duty, to make us look to himself, become par- takers of his holiness, and meet for a happy immortality. " Whom the Lord loveth he cnasteneth, and if we endure chastening, God dealeth with us as with sons and daughters." Often have the subjects of God's moral government had cause to say, " it is good for us that we have been afflicted." We can not always avoid trials; but we may always apply them to wise purposes as instruments of spiritual education, and means of preparing us for future glory. Pride and insensibility mav affect to disregard afflictions; it is the province of wisdom to improve them. They are inflicted by our Heavenly Father for a gracious and wise purpose, and that purpose it should be our constant aim to promote. The excellence of the end to be attained may reconcile us to the means employed to bring it about. The weary pilgrim 8 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. travels cheerfully through a thorny path, when he knows it is short, and will soon conduct him to the object of all his desires, and all his hopes; and shall not the Christian bear with steady fortitude and pious resignation the transitory ills of life, seeing that they are the steps by which he is ascending to the mansions in our Father's house' Our light afflictions, be they what they may, which are but for a moment, work for us " a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." Let man regard this world merely as a preparatory stage to a future and an eternal state of existence. Let him consider his misfortunes, sufferings and miseries, as intended to prepare him the better for a world of undying glory and happiness, and let him persevere in a course of virtue and usefulness in contempt of the malignity of his enemies and the storms of adversity that beat around him, for all have their trials and disappointments, and he will infallibly attain to that perfection and happiness hereafter, which should constitute the only true end and aim of all human exertion and pursuit. We should reflect for what purposes we were born, and through the whole of life look at its end. Consider, when sickness and affliction come, in what we will put our trust. Not in medicine, for that often disappoints us; not in the physician, however able and skillful he may be, he is only the instrument in the hands of an over-ruling Providence, and often fails. Not in the bubble of worldly vanity—it will be broken; not in worldly pleasures—they will be gone; not in great connections—they can not save you in death ; not in wealth—you can not carry it with you; not in rank— in the grave there is no distinction; not in the recollection of a life spent in a giddy conformity to the silly fashions of a thoughtless and wicked world; but in that of a life spent soberly, righteously, and godly, in this present world. Disappointed hopes, failure of all worldly calculations, constitute the history of mankind. We can not violate the will, expressed or understood, of Heaven, and be happy. We can not sinfully indulge a single passion or pleasure, and not be disappointed. The spiritual and moral laws which regulate our lives are as constant and invariable as any to be found in matter. How many would have at this time been living, had they not enlisted every hope, thought, and energy in aiming at power, position, and wealth, and in indulging in the pleasures of vice and immorality, the failure of which involved them, and destroyed their health. " The spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us." All that we bargain for at the outset of life, Providenoe frequently grants us, and that often for an instant, before we quit it. Riches, honors, INTRODUCTION. 9 and the desires of the heart are often obtained, and the dream of happiness apparently realized with lands and increasing possessions. Money comes in abundance; the mansion of splendor is built; child after child promises to secure that which the founder toiled for in the hope of dignity, and a proud aristocracy, and a name. Then come, as if to complete the fabric and to insure the victory, honors, titles, and a retinue of admiring and false friends, who smile in prosperity, but know you not in adversity. All is gained—nothing is wanting. " Soul, take thy ease "—and yet nothing is acquired. The gift melts in the grasp—the joy passes away in the possession, with the foot on the topmost step of the ladder. Ambition is satisfied, but Providence is revenged. All that the man could ask is given, but to show how vain, how foolish, are human aspirations, how less than childish our misdirected aims, how many thousands live to see their property squandered, their houses and lands in the hands of strangers, their children, one by one, removed by death or cast upon the world, wanderers and pennyless. Is there no lesson here? These facts may be illustrated in every age and in every clime. The daring and profligate ambition of Napoleon, is but a more dazzling example of the same success, and the like terrible defeat and disappointment. Where are the kings whom a breath set-up and kept in power? Where is the empire which conquered Europe and defied the world? The narrowest grave of the most distant island received the body of the man who found the earth not large enough for his desires. Bonaparte made known to the world how much man may accomplish, if he will. God in him exhibited how little all that the godless can accomplish is worth, even when all is obtained. But happiness is the chief object for which man labors; and yet how seldom does he pause in the pursuit, to consider wherein it consists .and how he may best obtain it. The drunkard, and the glutton, and the degraded libertine, look for happiness in these sensual indulgences, and while gratifying them, quail beneath the open gaze of virtue and acknowledge often, when too late, that those pleasures are of short duration, and cloy by repetition. Behold the ambitious man who tramples on the blood of thousands through every rule of justice to gain a world ? What streams of blood have been shed to gratify hit* insatiate ambition! How many thousands and millions have fallen beneath the mighty sword of the warrior, and been left lying in dreamless sleep upon the field of battle, merely to gain for him the evanescent wreath of fame, and to entomb him in a splendid sepulcher, though unconscious of its beauty and its grandeur! The poor beggar finds a grave as well aa 10 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. the great man. They are both destined to be the food of loathsome worms; and the plowboy, as he passes by their graves, will whistle the requiem to the reposing ashes of their greatness. While the living conqueror turns miserable from his conquest, because he finds not that for which he toiled, how many look for happiness in wealth, and when it is obtained, the golden vision of their hopes passes like a sunbeam; gray hairs and the winter of old age steal quickly upon them, and they look with tearful eyes and sorrowing heart, because they feel that death will soon break the chain which binds them to life. This insane and insatiable passion for accumulation, ever ready when circumstances favor it, to seize upon the mind, is that " love of money which is the root of all evil," that " covetousness which is idolatry." It springs from an undue and idolatrous estimate of the value of property. Many think that nothing will do for them, or for their children, but wealth; not a good character, not well trained and well exerted faculties, not virtue, not the hope of Heaven—nothing but wealth. It is their god, and the god of their families. Their sons are growing up to the same worship of it, and to an equally baneful reliance upon it for the future; they are rushing into expenses which the divided property of their father's house will not enable them to sustain; and they are preparing to be, in turn and from necessity, slaves to the same idol. How truly is it written that " they that will be rich, fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition." There is no need that they should be rich; but they will be rich. All the noblest functions of life may be discharged without wealth; all its highest honors obtained, all its purest pleasures enjoyed; yet this is not enough. Disappoint a man of wealth, and he mourns as if the highest end of life was defeated. Strip him of this—and this gone, all is gone! And I shall point to no unheard of experience, when I say—he had rather die than live. Many who are enjoying the blessings of health are dissatisfied— many from disappointed love, some from ungrateful friends; others from unkind relations, or the rich man's arrogance, become weary of such society, and, broken in spirit, seek among strangers a home and a resting-place, and spend the remnant of life, with melancholy hearts, toiling from day to day for a miserable sup- port, and not unfrequently without a shelter in hours of sickness or affliction. See ths poor Indian, who turns from the busy INTRODUCTION. 11 scenes of the white man, and looks for happiness in the wilder- ness, amid his native hills, seeking a precarious pittance in the labors of the chase. He lives the constant victim of some ground- less superstition; he is startled at the rustling of a leaf, and hears the voice of the Great Spirit in every whistling wind. And even the man who aims at moral improvement, finds the powers be would dedicate to God, alloyed by the temptations and trials of a sinful world. Then let him who would secure that portion of happiness which still remains to mortals, lean on superhuman power; supplicate the aid of Him who said, " I will not break the bruised reed, or quench the smoking flax"—bearing the ills of life with manly fortitude, grateful for what is given him by God, who knows best what we need, and watching the approach of death as the signal which calls him from a troubled conflict. How many countless thousands submit to the foul thraldom of the fiend intemperance! Bound in his chains, many of the mightiest of the sons of men have fallen; many on whom the heart has rested with idolizing fondness, and whom we have loved with all their failings, and to whom we have clung to the last, have wandered from the sure and upright path of sober modera- tion. How many haggard looks do we behold in those we have known in better or more prosperous days, whose looks betray the struggling pride that scorns to solicit; whose poor and ragged children speak, in language not to be mistaken, their withered hopes. There are many circumstances connected with intemperance that should be known. The shock the brain often receives from the use of spiritous liquors, produces the most horrible conse- quences; sudden death, or apoplexy, takes place. The brain is a complex machine, and it is impossible for the most distinguished physician to say where eccentricity ends, and where insanity begins. A man may mingle with his fellow-men, pursue the routine of ordinary cares and duties, so as to escape observation or remark—and yet may not be a perfectly sane man. Some delicate string of the mazy instrument may be shattered—and you have the strange response of monomania. Though no one string has snapped, each string may have been strained beyond its propei tension; and the whole instrument yields to the soul's action, fitful, irregular, discordant music—though not so strikingly varied from the ordinary sounds occasion brings forth, when temporary passion 12 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. or some sudden impulse lends its aid—it shows to an experienced observer the dire and latent cause. Reason teaches us that such may be—experience, the record of man's frailties, and close obser- vation teach us that such has been the fact. And it requires no sophistical argument to prove that which is the result of every day's observation, that thousands put into their mouths an enemy to steal away their brains. The internal changes, and the deteri- oration of the functions of the animal economy in the habitual drinker of ardent spirits, is not confined to the brain, but changes take place in the stomach, liver, heart, lungs, and the functions of each respectively. And yet, deplorable infatuation! the misguided creature often alleges as an excuse for his tippling or daily use of ardent spirits, that he suffers in some one of those organs, and gets momentary relief in this way. But what a relief! A pleas- urable moment, to be repaid by hours, and days, and weeks of disease! These remarks will show you that if you desire to arrive at old age, in the enjoyment of health, it can only be done by a rigid course of abstinence. We shall find, by looking over the biog- raphies of the great men of every age, that those who have pos- sessed the clearest and most powerful minds, neither drank spirits, nor indulged in the pleasures of the table. Sir Isaac Newton, John Locke, Dr. Franklin, John Wesley, Sir William Jones, John Fletcher, and President Edwards, furnish striking illustrations of this truth. The mind of man is like the fluctuating sea. It is never at rest. View the nature of man, and the objects by which he is sur- rounded; his immortal capacity forever seeking, yet forever refus- ing to be filled from earthly sources. Amid this tumult of the mind, this constant restlessness, this fever of disappointment, we shall frequently point out to our readers in this work, the potent influence which bodily infirmity exerts over the disposition and intellect, and the necessity and importance of the tranquillity of the mind, and a proper regulation of all the passions, for the preservation of health. The faculties with which our Creator ha« endowed us, both physical and intellectual, are so -dependent upon exercise for their proper development, that action and industry must be regarded as among the primary duties of accountable man. Exertion is connected with success and renown. Such is our constitution, that according to our usual train of thinking, where there is no exertion, there can be neither honor nor reward INTRODUCTION. 13 Progress in moral and intellectual excellence is our duty, oui honor, and our interest. We come into the world feeble in body and in mind, but with the seeds of improvement in both; and these seeds grow according to the cultivation they receive from exercise. The body grows in stature and in strength, and the mind gradu- ally expands. But exercise is requisite to the development both of our corporeal and mental capacities. In the course of years, indeed, the body grows—but without exercise it becomes corpulent, feeble, and inactive; and the mind, wholly undisciplined, remains in a weak ano] infantile state. That exercise which is requisite in order to bodily health and vigor, and to the evolution of our intellectual and moral powers, is not only the chief means of our improvement, but also the main source of our happiness. Without exercise of body and of mind, there can be no happiness or health There is nothing like business, for enabling us to get through our weary existence. The intellect can not sustain its sunshine flight long; the flagging wings drop to the earth. Pleasure palls, and idleness gathers rags. But business gets over the hours without counting them. We may be very tired at the end, still it has brought the day to a close sooner than any thing else. Never be idle; exercise improves the health, and employs the mind. Our years are but few, and every minute of indolence, by taking a grain from the heap shortens our span. If we knew that but a day remained for us to live, and we had some great work which we could just finish in that period, with what industry would we labor to complete it. We would strain every nerve, and grudge every second, watching the sun's decline with trembling and fear STet life is but a day, and we all have more than enough work to perform. If we would finish our task we should lose not a moment. The river of time rolls by without ceasing; and on its bosom we are hastening to the great ocean of eternity! It wih not wait for us, when repenting of our idleness. We may desire to labor, but from its cold waters will remorselessly come a voice; saying, it is " too late." Ay! it will soon be too late—" for the night cometh when no man can work." Idleness will render you petulant, and disappointment ruffles the smoothest temper. If we would eradicate the thorns that grow in the path of life, we should guard, with unremitting vigil- ance, the passions—controlled, they are the genial heat that warms us along the way of life; ungoverned, they are consuming fires. But the most important truth can not be too early learned— 14 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN the great essential to our happiness is, the resolution to perform our duty to God, as well as we are able; and when this resolu tion is deeply fixed, every action and every pursuit brings satis- faction to the mind. Then, if the prospects in this life are so precarious—if the pleasures of this life are so transient—if from mutability human things are void of substance, and no confidence can be reposed in them, to what resource must we apply to become possessed of some secure dependence, to support and buoy us up in the hour of sorrow and affliction ? To whom shall we fly for comfort, in the hour of trouble ? Nature and reason reveal the healing consolation; it is a pure, invaluable gem, which shines brightest in adversity. It is the gem Religion ! that beacon which lights us to another and a better world; it serves as a consolation when mankind desert us, and the cheerless hand of sorrow is placed upon our brow. It is a friendly attribute,—a glorious yet modest flower, the seed of which should be engrafted, nourished, and protected in the infant's breast, that in' their later years it may prove a rich and glorious harvest, serving in their declining days as a comfort and support. How often have I witnessed, that in the youthful breast the valuable shoot had just began to expand, but for want of care and necessary attention, or some wicked example and depravity of mind, the tender plant has been blasted by the contagion, and left in its location a vacant spot, to be usurped by depravity and vice. Perhaps, gentle reader, before thou hast got thus far with me, thou hast more than once sighed at the sorrows and triah that man has to encounter. I have, however, endeavored to catch and embody some of them for your consideration, before the evil days come, and the years draw nigh, when you shall say, '' I have no pleasure in them." And now, before I close this subject, let me point you to Religion, that pure, bright, sacred gift of God, whose joys you must experience to understand its magic influence. It calms the ruffled scenes of life, and makes them glide peacefully ;.\vay. It soothes the mind in its last hours, and gives that sweet tranquillity and assurance of the passport of the soul to an endless life of happiness and bliss. REMARKS. Heaven gave every man time for some useful purpose, and a man's life must have been badly spent, if there are no green spots in the wilderness of the past, to which he can look back with consolation and pleasure. How many live in this world as useless as if they, had never been passing through life, as a mere cipher, and leaving the world without performing a single action of kindness to their fellow-creatures, or leaving a single trace by which their memories may be perpetuated to posterity, either for their usefulness, their virtues, or their charities. How many deliberate or think what they will do, and reach the close of their earthly pilgrimage, without coming to any determina- tion, either of profit to themselves or to others. Miserable must this reflection be when such a man, in -the decline of life, considers how unprofitable he has been to himself, to his fellow-creatures, and above all to his Creator. " Thou unfaithful steward"—no sweet thoughts to soothe the troubled spirit's repose amid the busy scenes of life, and the pleasures of the world ; he has forgotten the impor- tant lessons of Truth; that life is but the preparatory state of an endless existence, and that he is to render an account for his stewardship here. For that wisdom that does not enter into the heart, is of but little value, for the real use of knowledge is to make us better, not to make us greater; and whosoever learns much without becoming more pious and humble, makes a bad use of his learning; and we should bear in mind this important instruction, where there is no piety either in man or woman, there is no security for virtue, and no power to resist and overcome those evil passions and propensities which destroy our peace, and our health, and are constantly more or less the great sources of disease, both mentally and physically. Then you will at once perceive how essential and important to health is the tranquillity of the mind, and a proper regulation of all the passions, for they may be properly considered the moral thermometer, that regulate the system, and hold the most powerful influence over the general health. And I may as well tell you here, 15 16 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. as any where else, for it is the truth, that much medicine is taken, and many ineffectual attempts made to cure diseases which have their origin in a disordered mind. And I have no doubt that thousands are killed by dosing and drugging every year, instead of assisting nature, by exercise, proper diet, change of climate, and rest of mind, which afford relaxation from the cares of business for a time; the mind requires rest, as well as the body, and without it, it is impossible to enjoy health. I have often regretted that physicians did not attend more strictly to this matter, and thereby save many, by timely advice, from a broken constitution, and, not unfrequently, a lingering and miserable existence; unfortunately, however, physicians are paid more for their visits and medicines, than for their advice in these matters. That the mind has a most powerful influence on health, is well known to medical men, and in fact to all persons of observation; and this is the reason why physicians encourage their patients. Not unfrequently, mental emotions, such as fear, grief, or any great anxiety of mind, have turned the hair gray, in a single night. Man is more or less the creature of passion, prejudice, habit, and education. The heart, alas despite of the stern philosophy which justice bids us exercise, invariably warps the understanding; even when most disposed to place reliance on the impartiality of our discriminating faculties, the sympathies and prejudices of our nature still triumph ; and in leaning to what we esteem justice and equity, we only follow the leadings of a mode of thought and reasoning, that has been instilled into us through training and education. This shows the importance of proper moral instruction* and the necessity of correct early habits. We are also often misled by the force of imagination. A celebrated French physician of Paris, author of many excel lent works on the force of imagination, being desirous to add experimental to his theoretical knowledge, made application to the minister of justice, to be allowed an opportunity of proving what he asserted, by an experiment on a criminal condemned to death The minister complied with his request, by order of the emperor, ind delivered over to him an assassin, a man who had been born of distinguished parents. The surgeon accompanied by many of the physicians, visited the prison, and told the unfortunate man that several distinguished persons had taken an interest in his family, and had obtained permission of the minister, that he should \ REMARKS. 17 suffer death in some other way than on the public scaffold, to avoid the disgrace of a public execution, and thereby save the feelings of his family, and that the easiest death he could die, would be by blood-letting, or, in other words, being bled to death. The criminal agreed to the proposal, and counted himself happy, in being freed from the painful exhibition to which he would otherwise have been subjected, and rejoiced at being thus enabled to spare the feelings of his friends. At the time appointed the physicians repaired to the prison, and the criminal having been extended on a table prepared for this purpose, his eyes were then securely bound, and every thing being ready, he was slightly pricked, near the principal veins of the legs and arms with the point of a pin. At the corners of the tabic, were placed four little fountains or basins, filled with warm water, from which poured several streams falling into tubs, placed on the floor to receive the water. The poor criminal, thinking it was his blood that trickled down his arms and legs into the tubs, became weaker and fainter by degrees; and the remarks of the medical gentlemen present, in reference to the quality and appear- ance of the blood, made with the intention to deceive him, increased the delusion, and he gradually spoke more and more faintly, until his voice was at length scarcely heard. The profound silence which reigned in the apartment, and the constant dripping of the water, had so extraordinary an effect on the brain of the patient, that all his vital energies were soon gone, although a very strong man weighing one hundred and ninety-five pounds, and he was dead in one hour and forty minutes, without having lost a single drop of blood. I will give you a curious incident, which will show you how fancy will put life into young limbs. A gentleman having led a company of young children beyond their usual journey, they began to be weary, and cried to him to carry them; which, from their number he could not do, but he told them he would provide them with horses to ride on. Then cutting little sticks, he gave one to each, and providing a largei one for himself, he bestrode it; whereupon they straddled each their stick and rode home without the least complaint. The religious fanatic, and the martyr to political excitement have exhibited resistance to physical agents to a degree of inflexi- bility almost incredible. The Shakers believe that, in their trances and visions, their souls visit the heavenly world. 2 13 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. In this state, the lancet has been applied to them, and their flesh scarified without producing a particle of blood. This will plainly show you the power the mind exercises over the physical system, or in other words, over the body, and its great influence in producing a cure in many diseases. Some persons suffer much more from pain than others; it la well known that all do not bear surgical operations equally well. This is, doubtless, greatly dependent upon their organization^ although it may be modified by habits of endurance, or on the con* trary, in particular diseases, depending on the condition of the nervous system at the time, which should be particularly and strictly attended to, for it is remarkably susceptible of impressions, The slightest motion of the muscles, the slightest breath of air will often induce the most excruciating torment, where it is mor bidly impressed; the operation of medicine is interfered with, and regular physiological action must be importantly modified. For example, we see this in the cases of many females at the time of child-birth, labor pains may be proceeding in the most gradual and favorable manner—but if any. thing should take place that the physician expected can not attend, and a stranger is called in, and particularly if she has want of confidence, or has any prejudice against the man, her pains will at one subside, and her delivery be greatly retarded; but should the physician or midwife, in whom she has confidence, attend her, the delivery of the child will be much speedier, and no doubt much easier. Doctor A. T. Thompson, of London, an eminent man in his profession, related to me many highly interesting cases of this nature. "I give you a case," said the Doctor, " as an illustration of the control of the mind over the operations of* medicine, where the whole effects must have been induced through the nervous agency, modifying the functions of the organs concerned. " A lady was laboring under an affection of the bowels, attended with severe pain and the most obstinate costiveness. She was bled, the warm bath used, and fomentations frequently resorted to, and purgative medicines freely administered, with injections and ano- dynes, but without the least effect upon the bowels, and without affording any relief from pain. At length the physician in attend- ance was informed that she had expressed her conviction, that if her usual medical attendant, who was then in the country, and alone understood her constitution, could be called, she would be relieved. REMARKS. 19 "This physician was accordingly sent for, and on Ms arrival, although no change either of measures or medicines was resorted to, her bowels were quickly moved, sleep and entire relief of pain followed, and in a few days she was perfectly well." He further stated that, in his practice, which is very extensive, he very often witnessed frequent cases of this kind, where the influence of the mind in modifying or changing the effects of medicines frequently occurred. Medical faith is a matter of very great importance in the cure of diseases, and in my practice I wish I may never have a patient who has not implicit confidence in me as a physician, for when faith is wanting little success is to be expected. The influence of Hope is also necessary to procure relief, and the alleviation or removal of disease is, in a great measure, dependent upon the con- dition of the mind. The agreement between the mind and body is constant. The administration of new medicines, without possessing any thing par- ticularly novel or powerful, will frequently induce an amendment of the disease, and this is* often the reason why medicine prescribed by physicians of celebrity, or professors, has been known to sue ceed better in their hands than in those of other persons. It is greatly the confidence and hope of the patient that works the cure. Disease is well known to depress the powers of the under- standing as well as the vigor of the muscular system, and will also deprave the judgment as well as the digestion. A sick person, in particular, is extremely credulous about the object of his hopes and fears. Whosoever promises him health generally obtains his confidence; and, this is the reason why so many become the dupes of quacks and patent medicines. And I again repeat it, medical faith is a matter of very great importance in the cure of all dis- eases, and where the physician has not the confidence of his patient, he had better surrender him into other hands. " Hippocrates admitted, that that physician performed the most cures, in whom the patient placed the greatest reliance; how important then a great name. Dr. James has related a case com- municated to him by the late Professor Coleridge, which strikingly illustrates the power of the imagination in relieving diseases. As soon as the powers of nitrous oxyde were discovered, Dr. Beddoes, of the London Hospital, at once concluded that it must necessa- rily be a specific for paralysis or palsy. A patient was selected 20 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. for the trial, and the management was entrusted to Sir Humphrey Davy. Previous to the administration of the gas, he inserted or placed a small pocket thermometer under the tongue of the patient, as he was accustomed to do on such occasions, to ascertain the degree of animal temperature with a view to future comparison. " The paralytic man, wholly ignorant of the nature of the process o which he was about to be submitted, but deeply impressed with the representation of Dr. Beddoes as to the certainty of success, no sooner felt the thermometer under his tongue than he concluded that the gas was in full operation, and in a burst of enthusiasm, declared that he already experienced the effect of its benign influ- ence throughout his whole body. The opportunity was too tempt- ing to be lost. Davy cast an intelligent look at Coleridge, and desired the patient to call again on the following day. The man again called at the appointed time, when the same ceremony was performed, and repeated every succeeding day for a fortnight; the patient gradually improving during that period, when he was dis- missed as cured, no other application having been used. "Prof. Woodhouse, in a letter to Dr. Mitchell, of New York, has given a recital, which also tends to show what singular effects can be caused if the imagination be previously and duly prepared for the production of wonders. At the time that the nitrous oxyde excited almost universal attention, several persons were exceedingly anxious to breathe gas, and the professor administered to them ten gallons of atmospheric air, in doses of from four to six quarts. Impressed with the belief that they were inhaling the nitrous oxyde, quickness of the pulse, dizziness, vertigo, difficulty of breath- ing, great anxiety about the breast, a sensation similar to that of swinging, faintness, restlessness of the knees, and nausea, or sick- ness of the stomach, which lasted from six to eight hours, were produced "—symptoms entirely caused by the breathing of nothing but common air under the influence of an excited imagination. The force of imagination, the power of fear, exercised on tho animal economy, are admitted by every medical observer, and indeed by every one of common sense; and the limits to which their opera- tions are to be assigned, no one can designate. This subject i of great importance to the medical man, if he wishes to practice successfully; and how very much is it to be regretted that so littl attention is paid to this important subject, the influence of the mind upon the vital functions. Research in such a field of inquiry, I doubt not, would display REMARKS. 21 jiany phenomena, which, in ancient times, were attributed to supernatural causes, and latterly to magnetic and other causes, which might be satisfactorily referred to "the operations of the nervous system alone, without the supervention of other agencies. The modus operandi is not understood, and the opinions enter- tained by distinguished physiologists are various. The operations of the moral feelings and emotions in the pro duction of corporeal diseases are far from being yet understood, and I have no doubt hundreds have died from fear during the prevalence of the cholera, who would have been living at this time had they possessed moral courage. At the commencement of the present century, a quack by the name of Perkins, asserted that certain diseases could be cured by merely drawing over the parts affected two metallic pieces. The extraordinary effects reported of their operation, were, by some, attempted to be accounted for by a supposed galvanic, electric or .magnetic influence exerted over the disease by the peculiar compo- sition of the metals of which the tractors consisted; but it is not always found practicable either in physic or physiology, to discover the cause or effect of certain conditions. A distinguished physician, of the General Hospital at Bath, in England, who had no confidence in the virtues of the metallic tractors, except through the means of the imagination, in affecting a cure, resolved upon testing, by experiment, their virtues, and communicated his intentions to his friend, Dr. Falconer. They selected five patients from the hospital. The diseases rnder which they labored were various and of a chronic character, such as gout, rheumatism, palsy, debility, pains in various parts of the body. Many of them had been ill for several months, and not benefitted by the various and usual remedies used in these complaints. The false tractors were made of wood, and not of metal, and painted so as to resemble the metallic ones in color and appearance. Upon the afflicted parts being stroked in the lightest manner by the pieces of wood, the patients all declared themselves relieved; three of them were particularly benefitted, and ono immediately improved so much in his walking that he took great pleasure in exhibiting proofs of the benefit he had received. One said he felt a tingling sensation for two hours after the operation. At the Bristol Infirmary similar experiments were made, and .extraordinary cures performed, so that more patients craved relief than could be attended to. Many that were unable to lift up their 22 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. legs, or to use them, or their arms, were, after the application of the supposed metallic tractors, immediately able to carry heavy weights and attend to their various occupations with perfect ease. These cases are so remarkable, being also publicly done, and that, too, in the presence of the most respectable witnesses of unimpeachable veracity, although a perfect deception, established fully the extraordinary virtues of this empirical or quack remedy. This thing called "Faith," works miracles. A doctor being asked the question, why he could not cure his mother-in-law, as well as his fajther, wittily replied, that his mother-in-law had not the same confidence in him that his father had, otherwise the cure would have been effected. The most singular instance of the power of the will over the functions of the body, and taken altogether, perhaps, the most remarkable case on record, being supported by the most unques- tionable testimony, is related by Dr. Cheyne, in his English Malady, pages 308 and 310. The case is that of Hon. Cornel Townshend, who for many years had suffered from an organic disease of the kidneys, from which he was greatly emaciated. He was attended by Dr. Cheyne, Dr. Baynard, and the distinguished surgeon, Dr. Skine, three of the most eminent men in England. These gentle- men were sent for, in great haste, early one morning, to witness a singular phenomenon, or strange case. He told them he had for some time observed an odd sensation, by which, if he composed himself, he could die or expire when he pleased, and by an effort come to life again. The medical gentlemen were opposed, in his weak state, to witness the experiment, but he insisted upon it, and the following is Dr. Cheyne's account: We all three felt his pulse first; it was distinct, though small and thready, and his heart had its usual beating. He composed himself on his back, and lay in a still posture some time; while I held his right hand, Dr. Baynard laid his hand upon his heart, and Dr. Skine held a clean looking-glass to his mouth. I found his pulse sink gradually until at last I could not feel any, by the most exact and nice touch. Dr. Baynard could not feel the least emotion in his heart, nor Dr. Skine see the least soil of breath on the looking-glass. We then each of us held to his lips the glass several times, examined his pulse, heart, and breath, and could not by the closest scrutiny discover the least symptom of life in him. We reasoned a long time on this strange, odd appearance, as well as we could, and all of us confessed it unaccountable, and beyond our REMARKS. 23 power to explain so strange and inexplicable a case. He still contin- ued in that condition and we concluded that he had indeed carried the experiment too far, and at last being quite satisfied he was dead, we were about to leave him. He had continued in this situation about half an hour, it being then nine o'clock in the morning, in autumn, when just as we were leaving, we observed some motion about the body, and upon further examination found his pulse, and the motion of his heart gradually returning; he then began to breathe gently and speak softly. We were all greatly astonished to the last degree, at this unexpected change in a man we confidently believed to be dead, and after some fur- ther conversation with him among ourselves, went away fully satisfied as to all the particulars of this astonishing case, but confounded and puzzled, and unable to form any rational scheme, by which to account for it. He afterward, some several months subsequent to this event tired and worn out by his mental and bodily sufferings, sent for his attorney, made his will, settled legacies on various servants, received the sacrament, and calmly and composedly expired in one of these extraordinary and powerful influences of the mind over the physical system. His body was examined, and all the viscera, with the excep tion of the right kidney, which was greatly diseased, were found per fectly healthy and natural. This power of the will, manifested at pleasure, is perhaps one of the most remarkable phenomena connected with the natural history of the human body. The distinguished Dr. Benton in his works alludes to cases of the same kind, and reports that the celebrated Carden Hagged could separate himself from his senses when he pleased. Celsus makes reference to a priest who possessed the same extraor- dinary power. While I was in London attending the lectures, a lunatic was admit- ted into the asylum, who imagined that she was laboring under a com- plaint that required the use of mercury, but the attending physician, Sir William Ellis, on examination of the case, finding her disease to be entirely in the mind, yet considering that flattering the opinion of the poor lunatic to a certain degree would be favorable to the recovery of her reason, gave her pills made of bread, and called them mercurial. After a few days using them, she was, to the great astonishment of tho doctor, nurses, and students, actually salivated, and the pills were dis- continued. On again ordering them, after the salivation had subsided, she was again affected by them in the same manner, and this again happened on a recurrence to the use of the pills a third time. By thus u GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. indulging her request, she at last recovered her reason, and was dis- charged, perfectly satisfied, and in fine spirits, and good health. The London Medical Times relates a curious experiment, tried in Russia, upon some murderers, showing the force of imagination. They were placed, without knowing it, in four beds where four persona had died of cholera. They did not take the disease. They were then told they were to sleep in beds where some persons had died of malig- nant cholera, but the beds were in fact new, and had not been used at all. Nevertheless, three of them died of the disease within four hours. The influence of a mother's imagination on the unborn child, although strange, is in many instances very powerful, producing through life peculiar traits of character, as well as disease or bodily deformity. In a number of the Scalpel, a monthly medical work published in New York, by Dr. Dixon, is related the following interesting case of the influence of a mother's imagination upon the unborn child. Mr. A, of a northern part of the State, married, some forty years since, a lady of an adjoining State. Pecuniary circumstances, (or in other words, poverty) at the time of the marriage, rendered off- spring undesirable, and he often expressed a wish to have no children until their circumstances became better. Within a year, however, it became evident that she was in the family way; on expressing her fears to her husband, she was greatly distressed at the dissatisfaction he appeared to feel on receiving this information. Taking his hat shortly afterward, he left the house, and was absent for near an hour. He was, however, greatly distressed on his return to find his wife in tears. He assured her immediately (for they were devotedly at- tached), that he was rejoiced to learn the probable realization of her announcement; that he was now satisfied with the prospect of better- ing his condition in life, and that his affairs were so much improved that he would be glad to have children, and sought by every means in his power to comfort her. The poor wife dried her tears, but soon ex- pressed her conviction that, in some way, her expected offspring would suffer from her agitation. The husband endeavored to remove her apprehensions by gentle and affectionate ridicule. But her fears con- tinued at intervals during her early months, and gradually increased as gestation or pregnancy advanced. The relief of the parties was great at the birth of a healthy and well formed boy. No peculiarity of con- duct in the child was observed, till several months had elapsed, and then their fears were renewed by its extreme unwillingness to ap- proach the father. This gradually increased, until its dissatisfaction REMARKS. 25 was manifested by loud and continued screaming when brought near him. As age advanced, the most persevering effort was made to overcome this repugnance; the utmost, degree of persuasiveness and kindness toward it; gifts, and sports, and every ingenuity were tried in vain. The child never could bear the sight of its father, and this utter disgust and dislike increased as it grew up, and so continued. The son, now an active and rising member of the bar, had never been able to speak to his father, though the most painful efforts were made. The feelings of the father may be judged by parents, for he was, and is, an exceedingly affectionate man. We give this case, knowing it to be true, for Dr. Dixon, a medical gentleman with an unusual degree of ability and practical knowledge, has a personal acquaintance with tne parties, and of the whole matter that has been productive of so much distress. Many cases occur showing the peculiarity of patients as to partic- ular medicines, and the effect produced by them on various constitu- tions, and not unfrequently on some preconceived opinion or prejudice respecting their action, etc. During a long practice, I have had to overcome many such cases. A lady, a patient, informed me that opium administered in any way, caused great restlessness, violent headache, and vomiting. Having of necessity to use it in her caso, 1 prescribed it under the usual med- ical name, Tincture Opii. The following day I found that her account of its effects were correct, as she had passed a very restles3 night, with violent headache and vomiting. From her husband, I learned that she was in the habit of reading and commenting upon all the prescriptions of the different physicians who had previously attended her. After a few days I had recourse to the same remedy under a new name [Tincture Thebacia). * Now, under this new term, I gave her opium for a length of time without producing the smallest inordinate action, and without the least symptoms of headache or vomiting, but on the contrary, she slept soundly and improved in health. She also spoke in the highest terms of this new remedy, so that under a new name I removed all disagreeable effects. How often in my practice have I removed similar prejudices as to a particular medicine, by conferring on it a new name ? How often do we see medicines produce entirely opposite effects to those which they usually exert over the system owing to some peculiarities of the patient ? I know a lady who could not take powdered rhubarb with- out its producing a disease of the skin (like nettle rash), and thai, in a few moments after she had swallowed it, and yet she could take it in 26 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. the form of an infusion without producing this effect. Dr. Dungli- son, professor in the University of Maryland, says: " I know a gen- tleman, whom opium purges, yet, this drug is usually administered to check inordinate action in the intestinal tube, or in other words, to check purging." The doctor says that there are very few functions of the body that are entirely free from these peculiarities. Many per- sons can not be present where ipecacuanha, or tartar emetic, is exposed, without a disposition to vomit; others profess a singular abhorrence at the sight of calomel. The smell of various articles to many persons is so disagreeable as to be almost intolerable. Pope Pius VI had such an aversion to thd smell of musk, that on one occasion of presen- tation, an individual of the company having been scented with it, his holiness was obliged to dismiss the party almost instantaneously. The Emperor Napoleon, though a great connoisseur of snuff, could not for a moment bear the smoke of a cigar, and the Emperor Alexander expressly prohibited the use of cigars in his presence. Many persons have an aversion to peppermint; others to cinnamon; some to cam- phor, and many to opium, in any shape in which it may be prescribed, producing vomiting, headache, great nervous irritability, and producing no anodyne effect whatever. Dr. Thomas states the case of a lady who was always attacked with syncope (or faintness), when che took the smallest dose of calomel. • Peculiarities of this kind could be more fully referred to, but I think I have said enough on this subject to show the importance of attend- ing to these peculiarities, and I am compelled to say (for truth is my object), that many physicians entirely overlook these important tem- peraments, and I have been thus particular, because, by observation and strict attendance to such cases, I have been taught this valuable lesson, " that many men may be given to profound thought, and pos- sess extensive knowledge, united with sterling honesty, being by nature endowed with the highest order of talents, and yet be wanting in good common sense," or in other words, " showing the importance of a sound judgment, with close observation of men and things, which constitute the chief corner stone or paramount foundation in the suc- cessful practice of medicine, or in fact any thing else." Men may theorize finely, but at the bed-side practice unsuccessfully: in prefer- ence to such persons, give me a good old woman, with her teas and simples, and I will trust the rest to nature. The skillful physician, and one who has had experience in his profession, although he uses medi- cine, can hardly be said to use it as a curative, but rather to remove obstructions, or to arrest the progress of diseased action. For cure, REMARKS. 27 ho looks to the strength of the constitution which remains; to the powers of nature to rally; to diet, drinks, sleep, exercise, change of air, hope, cheerfulness, etc.; but the reverse is the case with ignorance, or those who have had no experience. Medicine is entirely looked to as means to effect a cure, and in proportion to their ignorance will be their confidence in drugs, and an utter want of faith in the use of simples, goocUnursing, the influence of the mind, and above all, the restorative power of nature. This clearly explains why it is, that the most distinguished physicians feel the deepest conviction of the uncer- tainty of medicine. At every step they find it necessary to exercise great caution, as, notwithstanding the experience of three hundred years, the medical profession are still doubtful whether the remedies daily used act in unison and harmony with the laws of animal life. This, with many other mysteries not yet clearly explained, has been deplored by the best and wisest men that have adorned the profession of medicine, and as an evidence of this fact, however mortifying it may be to acknowledge it, all the metallic preparations are uncertain, and it depends on the state of the stomach whether they have any ac- tion at all, they not unfrequently operating with dangerous violence. I will refer you to the work of Dr. Chapman, professor in the Medical School of Philadelphia, which says: " Taking drugs habitually con- duces to destroy the stomach. Every ache or discomfort, real or imaginary, must be relieved by a recurrence to some supposed remedy, till finally the powers of the stomach are worn out, and derangements, functional or structural, take place. It would be salutary were such people constantly to bear in mind the epitaph of the Italian count, who fell a victim to his bad habits. '' I was well--- Wished to be better, Took physic and died." Nor can the profession escape the imputation of lending its contri- bution to this mischief. When called to a case of such obscurity, that no distinci idea can be formed of it; how often do we go on gropin<* in the dark,- pouring down drugs empirically, till the stomach gives way, and its derangements are added to the pre-existing affection, by which the case is made of greater complexity and enhanced difficulty of cure. " It is not easy," says the doctor, " always to avoid this course, from the ignorance or prejudice of mankind." The predominant estimate of the profession, even among the most enlightened people, leads to the. delusive supposition, that the Materia 28 GUNN'S FAMILY PHISICIAN. Medica has a remedy for every disease, and that the want of success under any given circumstances, is owing to the poverty of resource of the practitioner in attendance. Confidence is soon withdrawn, should he intermit his exertions, which perceiving, he too often multiplies his administrations to avoid a dismissal, or the bringing in of some other doctor, who, it is expected will bring forth a fresh supply of physic. The consultation ended, the new doctor brings forth his new prescriptions of more drugs, etc. With this new armory of deadly weapons, he enters the field; an exasperation of the case follows. Not satisfied, however, further trials of new physicians are still made, and these are a repetition of the same proceeding; the catastrophe is complete, for the patient dies. This, which might by some be sus- pected as a sketch of fancy, says Dr. Chapman, "I have frequently seen and deplored, convinced he was falling a victim to these very practices." The Emperor Hadrian deliberately prepared the following as an inscription for his tomb : " It was the multitude of physicians that killed the emperor." And now let me say to you, from experience and a desire to incul- cate lessons of truth, which you will find useful, avoid as much ad you can dosing and drugging, and depend upon what I say to you, that thousands are killed by physic, and the daily and constant use of things by which the stomach is worn out. Then let me, for the last time, implore you, in the language of soberness and truth, to depend more on diet, on exercise, on traveling, on change of climate, on amusements, on the presentation of new objects, by temporary abstraction from the cares of business; or, in other words, give the mind rest, for many persons are not aware that by confining themselves to counting-houses, stores, and offices, with scarcely any exercise being allowed the body during the day, and no rest of mind, by changing their thoughts by some agreeable and use- ful amusement calculated to cheer and keep up the healthy action of the system, (for I before plainly and clearly explained to you the effects which the mind produces upon the body),—they are bringing upon them- selves very severe forms of ill-health, and that perhaps for life. Hence the reason of so many sickly and pale faces, we see pass along our crowded cities, and so much dyspepsia, saying nothing of many other well-known diseases of mankind. Forgetting that exercise is the source of health, all seem to be imbued with the single idea of accu- mulating wealth, and not health. What is money worth to us, if we are thereby to lose our health? How many do we see who toil from day to day, like slaves, for the purpose of leaving a large sum of money of their REMARKS. 29 children, and when they have succeeded in doing so, they die without having scarcely attained their fortieth year? How many thousands yearly are sent to their long account, by the constant use or abuse of medicines; for it seems to be the order of things, at the present day, that cures are to be effected, not by the recuperative powers of nature, but by the quantity of, drugs or medicines swallowed, that) every slight disease must be followed up by some active poison—"/or medicines are poisons "—instead of using such simple remedies as teas, cold bathing, together with a thousand simples, which, if prop erly used, assist nature to perform the cure handsomely and com pletely. Poor human nature ! How fearfully does it deceive itself, when it flies to drugs to relieve every disease. Look into our large and commercial cities, where more work is done with the head than with the hands: where every kind of food for the passions is not only superabundant in quantity, but of the most stimulating quality, and there thousands who never labor at all, are found, who, through the unnatural degree of excitement kept up in the brain and nervous 3ystem, by the full play of the passions, sustain very great injury to their health. An attentive examination of every class of society well convinces us, that in proportion as the intellect is highly cultivated improved, and strongly excited, the body suffers, till a period at length arrives, when the corporeal deterioration begins to. act on the mental powers, and the proud man finds that the elasticity even of the immortal mind may be impaired by pressure too long continued, and that like springs of baser metal, it requires occasional relaxation and rest, instead of dosing and drugging. I do not know, nor do I believe that this disease has ever been described before by any medical writer. I allude to that wear and tear, or state of body and mind, intermediate between that of sickness and health, but nearer the former than the latter, to which I am unable to give a satisfactory name, although it is hourly felt by tens of thousands in the world. It is not curable by physic, although it makes much work for the doctors, and in the end, by dosing and drugging, a profitable business for the grave- digger. It is that wear and tear of the living machine, mental and corporeal, which results from over-strenuous labor, or exertion of the intellectual faculties, or rather corporeal powers; for, rest assured that vivid excitement and tempestuous mental emotion, can not last long, without destroying the physical fabric. For the animal and the intellectual, or, in other words, the material and spiritual portion* of our being, are distinct essences, and the former will survive the latter 30 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. in another and a better existence. But on the earth, they are linked in the strictest bonds of reciprocity, and are perpetually influenced one by the other. See that pale cheek, that eye that has lost its luster that care-worn countenance, that languid step, that flaccid muscle, with great weakness, and the indisposition to exertion, and you will behold the results of a mind worn down by the cares and disappointments of life, and a body exhibiting a faithful picture of its influence upon it. To discover truth in science, the most learned will admit is very often difficult; but in no science is it more difficult than in that of medicine. Independent of the common defects of medical evidence, our self-inter- est, our self-esteem, our prejudices, and not unfrequently our ignorance, will hide the truth from our view, and we ascribe all to art, and but little to the operations of nature. The mass of testimony is always on the side of art, and although we believe we are right in our reasoning, we only pursue the old course that has been instilled into our minds through training and education. Observe the young physician of the present day, who goes forth from the medical college, with his diploma in his pocket, with rather more pride than common sense, having passed through his studies with the rapidity of a locomotive, believing if he does not cure every disease it is his own fault; but time and experience will show him differently, when his cheeks are wrinkled with the cares and troubles which a pro- fessional, life always confers, and when he will have learned by sad experience, that disease is controlled by nature alone; that her laws must be consulted, if he expects to practice successfully. Thousands of persons would have no doubt been now living, had their cases been treated with more simple remedies ; for a long experience has fully con- vinced me that the healing art depends on the preservation of the restor- ative power, and if this once be lost, the healing office is at an end. I have before told you, in my " Domestic Medicine," that health is to be restored by assisting nature instead of retarding her operations. All the physician can do, is merely to regulate the vis medicatrix naturae— the self-preserving energy, by being excited when languid, restrained when vehement, by changing morbid action, or obviating pain or irrita- tion when they oppose its salutary courses " in simplici salus" or in other words, there is safety in simples. I am not fond of introducing Latin phrases, but when I follow il with the translation, I trust my reader will pardon me. In my writings for the people, I wish to be plain and comprehensive, at the same time to expose all quackery and concealment, for we live in an age when every branch of human knowledge is reduced to prin«. REMARKS. 31 ciples of common sense, and when the more important sciences are no longer clothed in mystery, when all the sources of information are open to every one who may wish to read and think for him- self. The present age is favorable to every species of improve- ment; darkness, superstition, and ignorance have passed away, and we live under the first general dawn of the human mind. Every day produces some new discoveries made in nearly all the sciences, which look more like magic than human agency. The healing art is likewise improving, and we are abandoning the active remedies which have been used to too great an extent by fanatics, and begin to turn our attention to the great volume of Nature, which, upon diligent research, will amply repay us with the blessings of health. The time has arrived when the people of this country begin to read and think for themselves, to learn things and not words. To exercise their judgments in matters which concern their welfare and that of their families, instead of paying other people to think for them. All men and women who possess good common sense should exercise their judgments, in matters that concern their health, and that of their families. They do know, or if they do not know they should know, their own constitutions best, and study the economy of health, not depending on dosing and drugging to the exclusion of exercise, diet, change of air, restoring the mind by innocent amuse- ments, which were intended by the Deity for our happiness, but by a due course of training, as we do our animals, for man is an animal only of a higher grade. Therefore, instead of using medicines daily, which destroy the constitution and leave the whole body worn out, a living thermom- eter to every change, be your own guide, only be guided by reason and common sense. From the abuse of medicines, thousands on thousands die annually, from a wild and infatuated course of swal- lowing medicines daily, without reflecting that they are taking poison. Unfortunately for mankind, yet most fortunately for physicians, the people can not ascertain how many valuable lives are yearly destroyed by the constant dosing and drugging system. I know many persons who have so habituated themselves to the use of medicines that they can not have an operation without taking some purgative. It is said of the celebrated Dr. Radcliffe, that he was not in the habit of paying his debts without much following and importunity, nor then, if any chance appeared of wearing out the patience of his creditors. A poor man who had been doing some paving for the oA GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. doctor, after a long and tedious calling, at last caught him just get- ting out of his carriage near his own door, at Bloomsbury Square, London, and dunned him for his bill. " Why, you rascal," said the doctor, " do you intend to be paid for such a piece of work as this 1 ^ny> y°u have spoiled my pavement and then covered it with earth to hide the poor work." " Doctor," said the poor man, " mine ia not the only piece of bad work that the earth hides." " Well," said the doctor, " there is much truth in what you have said," and at once discharged the poor fellow's bill. Dr. Shipper, one of the most distinguished medical gentlemen of Philadelphia, and a teacher of medicine in the old medical college of that city for more than forty years, says, " If you find it necessary to have recourse to medicine, there are three kinds which you may make use of with safety: viz., a tranquil mind, exercise, and a tem- perate diet. These," said the venerable and most experienced of physicians, " are the best remedies I have ever prescribed." The celebrated French physician, Dumoulin, on his death bed, when surrounded by three of the most distinguished medical men of Paris, who were regretting the loss which the profession would sus- tain in his death, said: " My friends, I leave behind me three physicians much greater than myself." Being much pressed to name them (each of the doctors supposing himself to be one of them), he answered, " water, exercise, and diet." The practice of every expe- rienced and judicious physician becomes more and more simple as long as he lives. An old physician who administers much medicine is the worst kind of a quack, for his experience ought to have taught him that there are thousands of prescriptions, yet but few remedies. The distinguished Dr. Ttadcliffe said, "that the whole mystery of physic might be written on half a sheet of paper." The opinions of some of the greatest medical men who have ever lived, are sufficient to convince us that one of Burns' " Twa Dogs " was right, when he said: " But human bodies are sic fools For all their colleges and schools." The late professor of Materia Mcdica in Brown University, after naif a century of professional labor, says, " What a farrago of druga has been and is daily used by many physicians; I have really seen," said the professor, " in public, as well as in private practice, such a jumble of things thrown together, and so much medicine administered unnecessarily, that it would have puzzled Apollo him- self to know what it was designed for." REMARKS. 33 A certain practitioner said, that the quantity, or rather the com- plexity, of the medicines which he gave his patients, was always increased in a ratio with the obscurity of the case. " If," said he, " I fire a great portion of shot, it will be very extraordinary if some do not hit the mark." A patient in the hands of such a man is certainly no better sit- uated than the Chinese Mandarin, who, upon being attacked with any disorder, calls in twelve or more loctors; after which he swallows at one dose, their several prescriptions. Instead of such wild theories, it would be better to tread the path pointed out by a strict observ- ance of nature, simple prescriptions and simple remedies; for it seems that the human constitution or corporeal frame, was not thus intri- cately and wonderfully formed, to require, in repairing, what some physicians term the broad-ax, or in other words, the most active and powerful remedies. It is well known that some of our active remedies, when used to too great an extent, produce disease more difficult to cure than that which they were designed to obviate. So, always avoid as much as possible dosing and drugging. When -1 was a young man commencing the practice of medicine, I was sure of curing every disease by active remedies and administering a great deal of physic, but in a few years I found, by experience, that I was in a thousand instances mistaken. I lost half my confidence in many remedies, and this must be the conclusion of every rational and experienced practitioner of medicine, for as he grows old in his pro- fession, he becomes the more convinced of the uncertainty of medi- cines ; and although he has a thousand prescriptions, among them are but few remedies. A wealthy city merchant, who resided in London and lately retired from business, called upon Sir Astley Cooper, te consult with him upon the state of his health. The patient was not only fond of the good things of this world, but indulged in high living to a great excess. This was soon perceived by this eminent man, who thus addressed him: " You are a merchant, sir, and pos- sess an entire knowledge of trade, but did you ever know of an instance in which the imports exceeded the exports, that there was not a glut in the market ? That is the way with you, sir. Take more exercise and eat less, drink no wines or spirituous liquors of any kind." The gentleman took the hint, and has since declared the doctor's knowledge of the " first principles of commerce and his mode of giving advice, rendering it so clear to the most humblo capacity, has not only enabled him to enjoy good health, but pro- longed his life for many years." It was the opinion of Dr. Rush, 34 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. " that if the same amount of care had been taken to instruct and improve the human species, that has been bestowed upon domestic animals during the last century, there would have been but little need or use for medicines." Man has not been sufficiently considered as an animal. If we paid as much attention to our children as we do to our horses, they would be more healthy, their intellectual powers be in a greater state of preservation, and cultivated at a later period in life. It is highly necessary that man should be attentive to the reg- ulation of his animal appetites. Education commences in the cra- dle and terminates only in the grave. I am convinced that the mind of man might, like the sun, grow larger at its setting, and shed a more beautiful light at the period of its decline. A remarkable instance of this kind is evinced in the celebrated Jeremy Bentham and John Howard, whose lives were devoted to acts of charity and deeds of benevolence; and furnish examples of the efficacy of con- trolling the animal appetites in prolonging life. The possession of a sound mind in a sound and symmetrical body, was esteemed by the ancients to be the greatest blessing which man could enjoy. This truth being proclaimed so long ago, renders it very strange that mankind have not profited by it and endeavored by every means in their power, to secure a healthy body; for tho powers of mind, the evenness of the temper, the kindness of the dis- position, all depend upon the state of our physical frames. Providence puts into our hands the means of preserving health, and this gift involves a solemn responsibility. Health will be counted among those talents for the use of which we are to answer to our Creator ; and it is our duty to become acquainted with those laws which regulate and govern it. This is properly termed physical edu- cation, and it should be so instilled into our minds, as to render the subject perfectly familiar to us all; for there is but little doubt that we bring most of our diseases upon ourselves by imprudence and the want of a proper knowledge how to ward them off; and if not the effect of our own neglect, they are traceable to ignorance or a want of proper management by our parents or the guardians of ur youth, and not unfrequently entailed upon us by them. Then De assured that nature will, sooner or later, call us to an account foi a violation of her laws. It is true, for a time we may escape, but the debt and its interest are both accumulating, and which must as last be paid. How many charge nature with that which has accumulated through neglect of the economy of health, by which many evils might be obviated, life prolonged to a good old age, and a large amount of physical REMARKS. 35 suffering diminished. Young persons should be, taught the value of health and the means of preserving it, by the subjugation of every immoderate desire, appetite, or passion, by which they may prolong life, and with proper precaution, live almost uninterruptedly in a per- fect state of health. A knowledge of the circumstances upon which health depends, is one of the most important parts of the moral and intellectual educa- tion of youth. We should open the fountains of knowledge to the young on these subjects, so they may have in store useful informa- tion, and start them, well equipped, on the voyage of life, prepared to ward off disease, and prepared to strengthen, if necessary, a weakly constitution, so well understanding this part of their educa- tion that they may be useful, in cases of sudden emergency, to the afflicted. The four ordinary secrets of health are, temperance in avoiding all intoxicating liquors, exercise, personal cleanliness, reg- ular hours, and rising from the table with the stomach unoppressed. There may be slight indisposition in spite of the observance of these rules, but you will find all diseases much milder. By observing them, you have an assurance, almost, that you will escape disease altogether. Most of the ancient philosophers may be named as pat- terns of health, temperance, and long life. Pythagoras restricted himself to vegetable diet altogether; his dinner being bread, honey, and water. He lived upward of eighty years. His followers adopted the same diet, and with results equally striking. It is well known that early Christians also, were remarkable for temperance and longevity, too, when not removed by persecution. Matthew, for example, according to Clement, lived upon vegetable diet. The eastern Christians, that retired from persecution into the deserts of Egypt and Arabia, allowed themselves but twelve ounces of bread per day as their only solid food, with water alone for drink, yet they lived long and happy. St. Anthony lived one hundred and five years; Simon Stylites, one hundred and nine ; James the Hermit, one hundred and four; Saint Jerome, one hundred; Epaphanus, one hundred and fifteen; Romauldus and Arsenius, each, one hundred and twenty years. And I now conscientiously give you my opinion, founded on long observation and reflection, that if there was not a single physician, surgeon, apothecary, chemist, druggist or drug, on the face of the earth, there Avould be less sickness and less mortality than now takes place, we would depend more on the simples of nature than on the dosing and drugging system, which has occasioned, more than any one thing, so much degeneracy of the human body of the pres- 36 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. ent race; and thousands daily die victims to medicine who might have lived to a good old age, had they but trusted to nature and simple remedies. By a proper course of temperance in all things, no matter under what circumstances or climate we may be placed, our health will be secure, our longevity will be increased, and our happiness established; for where there is no temperance there is no moral virtue, nor 'any security against crime; for where spirituous liquors are used, the mind is under a state of animal excitement, the judgment is marred by false and imperfect reasoning, and the conse- quences thereof are habits -which, morally and physically, destroy health. Then taste not, handle not, the unclean thing. When it is used, the passions become wild as the winds, and raging as the waves. Without it, the mind is calm and tranquil, seeing all things in their proper light. In a word, happiness can not exist where temperance is not, and let me assure you that most of our diseases and interrup- tions to health are the effects of intemperance—and I have no doubt, that by proper caution in avoiding stimulating drinks, we may live in a great measure uninterruptedly free from disease, notwithstanding the constitution may be reduced in strength and vigor, from being born of unhealthy or intemperate parents, which inherited misfortunes may be entirely overcome by diet, exercise, change of climate, and a perfect system of temperance in avoiding all spirituous liquors. These laws Bhould be strictly observed through life, for there are very few individ uals totally exempt from some predisposition to a particular disease which may trouble them while life lasts. All physical peculiarities in the parent are hereditary; even the age is hereditary, and we may trace in the unconscious infant, even the lines of that care which is ushering the decrepid parent into the grave. I am fully convinced, from a long experience and strict attention to this matter, that much idiocy, as well as predisposition to madness, with very much nervous disease, is transmitted by the parents to their children, imparted through sympathy as well as by other means, which delicacy forbids me to explain, and which will be more fully com- municated under the head of private diseases. Many diseases are hereditary, and it is well worthy the attention of those who feel the interest natural to parents in the happy establishment of their children as well as the advisers of those whose interest and happiness may be secured by a proper precaution in their selection of companions for the marriage state. I will mention some of the most prominent dis- eases, viz.: madness, consumption, epilepsy, scrofula, cancer, nervous affections, and also diseases which have been handed down to posterity, REMARKS. 37 by imprudence, or, in other words, diseases' of a private nature, which have never been eradicated from the system, all of which are authenti- cated and deserve strict attention. In the administering of medicines, to be successful in your practice, always look well to these peculiarities of constitution; in a word, if you wish to place human happiness on a secure basis, you must look more to temperance than to medicine. That certain diseases are hereditary, or entailed by "parents upon their offspring, I have before mentioned. But that this taint is often aroused in early life, by their discipline, is equally true. The influence of laws, institutions, and habits upon the vigor and health of man is more pow- erful than most of those, who have never studied the subject, imagine. Civilization and its attending consequences, not only bring with them many pleasures, but they also produce corresponding evils. As society is restrained, and complicated, as the luxuries of life increase, and as indolence and a want of proper muscular action prevail, the constitu- tion becomes enfeebled, and bodily and mental development retarded. Many, and indeed most of our diseases were unknown to our aboriginal inhabitants. The stately Indian roamed the forest, ascended the moun- tain hight, and leaped over the precipice in pursuit of game, or lay upon the earth, during heat and cold, summer and winter, almost des- titute of clothing; still consumption, dyspepsia, and gout, with many of the common diseases of civilized life, were unknown to him. The shepherd too, in his pastoral life, guarded his flock and sung his wild notes, without stricture of the breast, or pain in the lungs. It is there- fore a matter of the utmost importance, in the education of a youth, to teach him how far the luxuries and habits of civilized life, and its dissi- pations tend to shorten, or render it miserable, in order that he may correct his ways, and thus avoid premature suffering, or early death. No nation can be powerful, whose inhabitants are either mentally, mo- rally, or physically enfeebled. It is true that the habits of the people of the United States have made but few inroads upon their bodily devel- opments, but still we have no evidence that this state of things will continue. Already they are beginning to depart from the simplicity of their forefathers, and as the population becomes more dense—which is the case every day, from the immense immigration to this country, and as wealth accumulates in the hands of the few, and the many are shut up in manufactories, and the opportunities of intemperance of thousands worn to death, by the toils necessary to procure subs:stence— the frame must continue to lose tone and elasticity through succeeding generations. It is already a common observation in our country, that men df talents and persevering industry, in the professions, or 33 GUXX'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. among statesmen, or among merchants, spring from amidst those who are accustomed to a country life, where the various luxuries and dissi- pations of cities are comparatively unknown. In order to guard with any degree of certainty, against those dis- eases, we should have a knowledge of the laws Avhich govern the animal economy. Without it we would be groping our way in the dark, anxious no doubt to discover the right passage, but afraid that we were departing further from it. That is the case with men and women who do not possess that most important of all commodities, common sense. Now every man who has ever reflected upon this subject, for one moment, must know that there are certain kinds of constitutions, or forms, in which certain maladies are extremely liable to be implanted, or, in other words, entailed upon the offspring, by the parent. Now, if this constitution, or make, be kept from under the influence of causes such as may excite the diseases to which it is predisposed into action, it may pass on through a long life, without exhibiting any of the marks of the disor- der which destroyed those that immediately preceded' it; and the truth is, it may even become so changed by proper exercise and habits, and even a union with a healthy person, that no common exciting cause can produce the disease to which it was'previously exposed. To illustrate my meaning on this subject more clearly, many of our most talented youth of both sexes die, at an early period, of consump- tion. This disease is hereditary in many families, that is, the same kind of structure descends from the parent to the child; who not only resem- bles the father or mother, in shape and countenance, but the structure of the lungs is almost precisely the same. If exposed to sudden vicis- situdes of temperature, or kept for six or eight hours, in a hot, ill-ven- tilated room, breathing the impure air, which has already passed several times through the lungs of others, he will probably fall a victim to the Bamc disease of his parent. The structure of the lungs was like his or hers, the most delicate portion of the system, and hence these organs were the most liable to disease. Now we often see that exercise in the open air, change of climate, nutritious diet, proper raiment, and avoiding all causes which predispose to these diseases, produce good health; we know, or ought to know, that proper exercise expands the chest, pro- motes the easy circulation of the blood, and develops the muscular growth, without exhausting the system. Hereditary descent of mental talent is likewise evident from a num bcr of facts—a few of which are selected for the purpose of illustration REMARKS. 39 and it will appear remarkably striking, that such an inheritance is more generally derived from the maternal than paternal side. In the exam- ples to be adduced, a selection has been made with a view to the differ- ent varieties of mental superiority, and the following comprehends poets historians, and orators: Lord Bacon; his mother was daughter to Sir Anthony Cook; she was skilled in many languages, and translated and wrote several works, which displayed learning, acuteness, and taste. Hume, the historian, mentions his mother, daughter of Sir D. Falconet, president of the col- lege of justice, as a woman of singular merit, and who, although in the prime of life, devoted herself entirely to his education. R. B. Sheridan; Mrs. Frances Sheridan was a woman of considerable abilities. It was writing a pamphlet in his defense, that first introduced her to Mr. Sheri- dan, afterward her husband. She also wrote a novel highly praised by Johnson. Schiller, the German poet; his mother was an amiable wo- man ; she had a great relish for the beauties of nature, and was passion- ately fond of music and poetry. Schiller was her favorite child, Goethe thus speaks^of his parents: I inherited from my father a cer- tain sort of eloquence, calculated to enforce my doctrines to my audi- tors ; from my mother, I inherited the faculty of representing all tha the imagination can conceive, with energy and vivacity. Lord Erskine' mother was a woman of superior talent and discernment; by her advice her son betook himself to the bar. Thompson the poet; Mrs. Thomp- son was a woman of uncommon natural endowments, possessed of every social and domestic virtue, with a warmth and vivacity of imagination, scarcely inferior to her son. Boerhaave's mother acquired a knowl- edge of medicine, not often found in females. Sir Walter Scott; his mother, Elizabeth, daughter of D. Rutherford, was a woman of great accomplishments and virtue. She had a good taste for, and wrote poet- ry, which appeared in print in 1789. We might further mention the mother of Marmontel, of Bonaparte, Sir William Jones, and a host of others; but among others the mother of George Washington should not be forgotten, who, according to the writings of that distinguished man, was the origin of all his greatness, and implanted firmly in his bosom all those virtues, for which he was afterward so much admired. A sufficient number has been given, we think, to show that, in a number of cases, eminent men have derived their talents from either parent, and it is a remarkable circumstance, that such inheritance is most gen- erally from the mother's side. You will perceive by my remarks, my desire to point out to you tho importance of a strict attention to the peculiarities of the constitu- ±0 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. tion, for I honestly believe that two-thirds of the diseases to which the human family are subject, can be removed by simple remedies, proper training, in other words, a correct course of exercise, diet, temperance, and change of climate, before it is too late ; particularly a sea voyage, which generally gives a freshness and transparency to the skin, resem- bling the freshness of youth. The great misfortune is that thousands of persons who are diseased, put off these remedies until it is too late, or after medicine has done its fatal work, and the doctor, by way of getting rid of his responsibility, advises a sea voyage, or change of climate. I shall now conclude my Remarks with these solemn admonitions, that health and happiness can never exist where temperance is not, and where piety is not a frequent visitor. There is no solace or balm against the cares, disappointments, and vicissitudes of life. All that is bright in the hope of youth, all that is calm and blissful in the meridian of life, all that is soothing in the vale of years, are derived from temperance and religion. The first wards off disease, the second calms and tran- quilizes the mind under every affliction. This friendly visitor of the cross soothes the mind, and throws around the bed of sickness the arms of divine mercy. Solitary indeed is that couch where the emaciated, strengthless form is stretched, unaccompanied by these dawnings of eternal day. No starlight brightness, no cherub wings are hovering around his dying pillow. In vain are arms of friendship exte' ied, or the bosom of love opened; the rays of hope may gleam for a brief mo- ment in the horizon of his mind, but alas! they are cold and cheer- less; no vivifying influence passes over his feverish brain ; no holy gust of ecstatic joy sublimates the mind, and in quick succession, the past, the present, and the future is before him, and, at a glance, he views the false colorings of the world. The trembling soul dreads the future. No uplifted arm makes strong the soul, nor points with unerring truth the bright way to the mansions of eternal bliss, and he cries, ". How hard it is to die ! All is 1 >st!" OF THE PASSIONS. To subdue the passions of creatures who are all passion, is impos- sible ; to regulate them, appears to be absolutely necessary. And what are these passions which make such havoc, causing striking differences, exciting and depressing the spirits, leading to ecstatic enjoyment, or plunging us in the severest afflictions? What are they more than the development of our sensibility ? Life is shortened by indulgence in anger, ill-will, anxiety, envy, grief, sorrow, and excessive care. Therefore it is the province of wisdom to exercise a proper control over the passions. If you per- mit them to govern you instead of your governing them, you destroy the vital powers, you destroy digestion and impair the whole nervous system. To attempt to regulate the actions and functions of the body without paying any attention- to those of the mind, is like sitting down contented upon escaping one evil, while another of equal impor- tance is still impending. A wise man governs his passions, but a fool permits his passions to govern him. INFLUENCE OF THE MIND UPON THE BODY. The passions are modifications of self-love. The preservation of man is the center toward which all his affections and all his actions converge; he inclines strongly toward pleasure, which maintains or augments the quantity of life that he possesses, and he avoids every thing that can injure him. Pleasure and pain are the generative ele- ments of all the passions, which may be reduced to two, love and hatred. Pleasure is only momentary; we judge of it by its intensity. Its duration establishes happiness. The greater the pleasure a person experiences, the greater is the apprehension which he has of being deprived of it. This is the origin of fear, which is ordinarily accom- panied with hope, because these two affections have a common source, 41 42 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. the probability of good and evil. Fear gives way to sadness when hope is destroyed; but if we only see in time to come a series of endless misery, then our sadness is changed to despair, and our exist- ence becomes a burden. It is the inherent principle of self-love which makes a man pursue objects that increase happiness. Natu- rally inconstant, he wishes to vary his agreeable sensations, and his curiosity once satisfied by a new pleasure, he experiences for it a sen- timent of admiration. This sentiment belongs alone to great souls. It is not, however, the same with weaker minds ; they envy in others the blessings which they do not possess themselves. This passion, envy, is the greatest pest of social order. I will pursue no further the subject of self-love. It will be noticed in its proper place. It is sufficient for me to have explained the manner in which the passions are formed. Some cold moralists have improperly condemned the passions, and have wished to make man a dispassionate being, an automaton, in order to conduct him to perfection. Why we are so differently constituted will be unfolded at that great day, when the wisdom, the power, the mercy, and the goodness of the Almighty shall be made manifest. It is as impossible for man to live without pas- sions as to exist without thought. They are necessary to life. The heart of man has a horror for the state of vacuity. It is only the abuse of the passions which is condemnable. The functions of the body can not exercise themselves in a proper manner only as long as the epigastrium receives and sends back freely the action; consequently the affections of the mind prevent the concen- tration of the energies and promote their free circulation, and in this respect they are absolutely necessary to life. I am, here, only to be understood as speaking of the moderate affections, and not of extreme passions, which are very dangerous, and which, carried to a great degree of excess, may occasion the most fatal consequences. The only difference between one man and another is, that one governs his passions and another is governed by them. A man who per- mits his passions to govern him, can never be happy ; he will be dis- contented, irritable, and quarrelsome, and throw a tempestuous atmos- phere around him, which makes him move in the regions of storms— he employs sure means to shorten and embitter life, whatever may be his external circumstances. He becomes the architect of his temper, and misery must be the result of his labor. The passion for present and posthumous fame, is a deep and abiding principle in the human heart. To be remembered after one is gone—to leave a name that shall " wake the echoes of eternity," THE PASSIONS. 43 and survive the wreck of mortality, is an object dear to the human heart and to its dreams of ambition. Yet, how vain is the hope, how preposterous the desire! How frail is even the strongest bark upon which man relies to float his fame to future generations ! What, indeed, is earthly immortality but a mere name, a delusive halo, devised to counteract, in some measure, that instinctive dread of death so natural to the bosom of man! The mind is immortal and full of undying thoughts and sublime conceptions. It can lighten through all ages, it can resist the pro- gress and the power of time, and bid defiance to the dominion of decay. It can dart through space and span the universe, and scat- ter around it, in living and breathing creations, the ample evidences of its divinity. It can throw its richness into the colors of the can- vas till rapture shall stand still to gaze upon it. It can embody in marble all the fervor and intensity of passion, and all the sublimity of its emotion; it can infuse into language an eloquence that shall move, and melt, and charm the heart of a world. Yet what avails all this, while the materials with which it works, are changing, fragile, and perishable ? Thought, genius, fancy, may be immortal, but language, marble, and canvas, all must fail. But the man who governs his passions, who is humble, cheerful, contented, and subdues his temper, will endure disease, and be much more easily relieved of any disorder he may contract, and amid all the privations, difficulties, and disappointments to which we are more or less subject in our inter- course with the world, shall find himself able to maintain an unruffled severity. The stream when it descends slowly, with a hoarse murmur, from the mountain, and ripples through the plain, adorns and enriches the scene; but when it rushes down in a roaring and impetuous torrent, over-flow- ing its banks, it carries devastation and ruin in its course ; so when the passions, appetites, and desires, are kept under due restraint, they are useful and fulfill the intentions of a wise and over-ruling Providence; in performing a part of our nature, but when they are allowed to rage with unbridled fury, they commit fearful ravages on the character which they were fitted to adorn and exalt. If we wish the stream of life to bo pure, we must preserve the fountain whence it flows unpolluted, and to enjoy health and long life, the passions should be kept under duo control, for they may be considered the moral thermometer that regu- lates the system, and holds the most powerful influence over the general health; for in a temperate exercise of all the physical, intellectual, and moral faculties, we enjoy that peace of mind which essentially contri« 44 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. butcs to a long life, soothes the spirits to repose amidst the trials of this world, in the exercise of benevolence, friendship, love, a good conscience, with tender, refined, and elevated thoughts of the goodness of God, and our duty to our fellow-creatures. These are never-failing sources of delight, and promotion of health ; whereas pride, envy, jeal- ousy, covetousness, anger, and all the passions, habitually indulged to excess, not only embitter our happiness, and that of aU around us, but sap the foundations of health, and shorten the period of existence. Guard them with unremitting vigilance. Our passions when controlled are the genial warmth that cheers us along the way of life: ungoverned, they are consuming fires. The highest and most profitable learning is the knowledge of ourselves. All men are frail; no self-government is perfect without religion. If thou art better than another, it is not to be ascribed to thyself, but to the goodness of God. Thou canst not tell how long thou wilt be able to continue in the narrow path of virtue. The great Boerhaave, so distinguished for the attainment of the most serene self-command, was so profoundly humble, that when he heard of any criminal condemned to execution, would exclaim, " Who can teU whether this man is not better than I ?" Then, let us rely for aid on our heavenly Father, who hath said, " if any man lack wisdom, and ask of him, he giveth liberally and upbraideth not." Let us rest our self-control on the belief that he is able to do aU things ; that he will do all things well; that even evil will work for the good of those who love him; that nothing can divide us from his care, and that even death can not hurt those who have a passport to a happy immortality. INFLUENCE OF LOVE. Love is the divine essence of our being; it flows from God into our souls, and is our life. As the sun of the natural world warms the flower into life and beauty, so does the spirit of man receive the warmth of will which animates it into life and action, from the great fountain of Divine love. " If love then is the essential principle of our being, and through us is to fashion other forms receptive of life, how all-important that we should understand its nature and quality. "In the brute creation, this influx of love from God is a mere exter- nal sensation. Man too partakes of animal love; but with him there is also an inner love which is spiritual and holy, as much above animal sensation, as the soul of man is above brute instinct. And if this inner LOYE. 45 faculty be not cultivated and developed, man remains an animal, only exercising a rather superior understanding to other animals—dead to all the higher ends of his existence, but unfortunately too much alive to all low passions and propensities ; for it is an immutable law of our creation, that we must love—there being no life without love—and when we close our souls to the Divine love, we become receptive of infernal ovc—for the lost spirits of the infernal regions love ; but what do they love ? all sin, and wickedness, and uncleanness. It behooves us, there- fore, to search out and try our loves whether they be divine or infernal. And as all sin comes from love of self, we should seek above all things the antidote to that which enslaves us to lust, to pride, to worldliness, and all uncharitableness." This antidote, God, in his divine providence, has provided for us; first in our love for him, and secondly, in that beautiful love which, links the soul of man to woman. It is this which awakens the soul truly to God, and through which He creates the angels. Will not this thought sanctify love with so heavenly an end that in our inmost spirits we must feel and acknowledge its holiness ? •But how is love an antidote to selfishness ? I speak not of mere sensual love, but of that which is spiritual and true. When God gave woman to man, it was with a definite and divine purpose, that man in her might love himself, and thus be lifted out of his self-love. Through his senses which join him to the visible material world, man begins to love. How often do we see this outward love glancing from the spirit-speaking eye of the young, when in-the spring time and full joy of life, soul seeks soul, as the warbling bird doth its mate, and trills forth a love tone, and often thinks it hears its echo, when it has but struck upon a false sounding-board, that dull and heavy sound which comes to the aching heart full of disappointment. But if the true note of harmony has been thrilled, how beautiful it is when man awakens from his dream of passion, and discovers that all the pride of his understanding is reflected in a softened, chastened, and more divine light in the love of the gentle being at his side; he finds his taste, his opinions, the thoughts and feelings of his own soul, appropriated by her; that all unconsciously while he slept the deep sleep of love, from his own breast, a wife has been created "a helpmeet for him." How peculiarly she is. his own. She is something wonderful to him; he no longer loves himself, or thinks of himself—in her centers all thought and all feeling. Then how beautiful turns that trusting, loving eye upon him—he is her wisdom, her glory, her happiness--she learns of God through him—he loves God through her. * 16 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. But alas! alas! how rare is the beautiful, true, spiritual union ? I low often the waning moon of an external love finds pained souls sun- dered, who are bound the living to the dead for this mortal life — vail- ing behind outward conventionalities their internal disunion, and that burdensome yoke that binds some angel to an ox. The dull beast of earth plods on, all unconscious and uncaring for that dear one who has been a refuge to him from the tempestuous and bereaving storms of life. Love is the weapon which Omnipotence reserved to conquer rebel men when all the rest had failed; reason, he parries ; fear, he answers blow to blow; future interest, he meets with present pleasure; but love, that sun against whose melting beams winter can not stand; that soft subduing slumber which wrestles down the giant, there is not one human creature in a million, not a thousand men in all earth's domain, whose clayey hearts are hardened against love. "There needs no other proof that happiness is the most wholesome moral atmosphere, and that in which the morality of men is destined ultimately to thrive, than the elevation of soul, the religious aspiration which attends the first assurance, the first sober certainty of true love." There is much of this religious aspiration amidst all warmth of virtuous affections. There is vivid love of God in the child that rests its cheek against the cheek of its mother, and clasps its arms about her neck. God is thanked (perhaps unconsciously), for the brightness of his earth, on a summer evening, when a brother and sister, who have long been sepa- rated, pour out their hearts in stories to each other, and feel their course of thought brightening as they run. When the aged parent hears of the honors his children have won, or looks around on their innocent faces in the glory of his decline, his mind reverts to him who in them prescribed the purpose of his life, and bestowed his grace. But religious as is the mood of every affection, none is so devotional as that of love, especially so called. The soul is the very temple of ado- ration, of faith, of holy purity, of heroism, of charity. At such a mo- ment, the human creature shoots up into the angel, strengthened, sus- tained, vivified, by that most mysterious power, union with another spirit, it feels itself on the way of victory over evil—sent out " con quering and to conquer." There is no other such crisis in human life The philosopher may experience uncontrollable agitation in verifying his balancing system of worlds, feeling, perhaps, as if he actually saw the creative hand in the act of sending the planets forth on their ever- lasting way. But this philosopher, solitary seraph as he may bo regarded amidst a myriad of men, knows, at such a moment, no emo- LOVE. 47 tions so divine as that of the spirit becoming conscious that it is beloved, be it the poorest creature in his humble cottage, or the daughter of some distinguished family reposing in her father's halls, or the poor mechanic who toils for his daily bread, or the man of let- ters musing by his fireside. The warrior about to strike his decisive blow for the liberties-of a nation, however impressed with the solemni- ties of the hour, is not in a state of such lofty resolution, as those who by joining hearts are laying their joint hands on the whole wide realm of futurity for their own. The statesman, who, in the moment of suc- cess, feels that an entire class of social sins and woes is annihilated by his hand, is not conscious of so holy and so intimate a thankfulness as they who are aware that their redemption has come in the presence of a new and sovereign affection. And these are many ; they are in all corners of every land. " The statesman is the leader of a nation; the warrior is the grace of an age; the philosopher is the birth of a thousand years; but the lover, where is he not ? " Wherever parents look around upon their children there he has been ; wherever there are roofs under which men dwell; wherever there is an atmosphere vibrating with human voices, there is the lover, and there is his lofty worship going on, unspeakable, but revealed in the brightness of the eye, the majesty of the presence and the high temper of the discourse. Men have been ungrateful and perverse; they have done what they could to counteract, to debase this most heavenly influence of their lives, but the laws of their Maker are too strong, the benignity of their Father is too patient and fervent for their oppositioa to withstand, and true love continues and will con- tinue to send up its homage, amidst the meditations of every eventide, and the busy hum of neon, and songs of the morning stars. There is something, soothing and delightful in the recollection of a pure-minded woman's affection; it is an oasis in the desert of a worldly man's life to which his feelings turn for refreshment, when wearied with the unhal- lowed passions of this world; it is that heaven-born passion that binds us in prosperity, and links us more closely under adversity; it is a ten- derness unutterable, which banishes every unhallowed thought, and leads us back to our primeval innocence. They know but little of this passion, who deem it the offspring of sighs and protestations. These are but the husbandry which calls forth the common produce of com- mon soils, the needful aliment of that great principle of nature, which alike peoples our cities, and our plains, our rivers, and the air we breathe. In many a heart, where it has never been awakened, lies the subtle essence, which when touched by a kindred essence, starts at once 48 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. into giant life. And how manifold are the channels through which that kindred essence works itself a passage to the sleeping mischief. A word, a look, a tone of the voice, one pressure of the hand, though a hundred have preceded it, a simple " good night," or a parting " God bless you!" from lips that have pronounced the words for months, shall, in a predestined moment, be like the spark that falls upon the nitrous heap followed by instant combustion. And then what a revo- lution is effected. The eye sees not, the ear hears not, the mind per- ceives not as it has been wont; a new being is created; the past is obliterated; nothing seems to remain of what was, and the very iden- tity of the object by whom this delirium of all the faculties has been produced, is destroyed. We strive in vain to recall the mere man or woman we have known, in the lover or mistress we now adore. Spell- bound in the fascination, enthralled in the idolatry of suddenly awak- ened passions, we discover wisdom, wit, beauty, eloquence, grace, charms, benignity, and loveliness, where hitherto we beheld them not, or at most had dim and visionary glimpses of their possible existence. All! all is transformed, and in a moment the heart creates its idol; all is sunshine. The graceful form flits before the imagination, and love with its genial warmth pours her incense upon the heart. Love, that cordial drop of bliss, that sovereign balm for every woe, as it is of the first enjoyment, so it is frequently the origin of our deepest dis- tress. If it is placed upon an unworthy object, and the discovery is made too late, the heart can never know peace. Every hour increases the torments of reflection, and hope, that soothes the severest ills, is here turned into deep despair. Two souls that are sufficient to each other, sentiments, affections, passions, thoughts, all blending in love's harmony, are earth's most perfect medium of heaven. Through them the angels come and go continually, on missions of love to all the lower forms of creation. It is the halo of heavenly visitors, that vails the earth in such a golden glory and makes every little flower smile its blessings upon lo /crs. Nothing in life is so pure and devoted as wo- man's love. It is an unquenchable flame, the same constant and immaculate glow of feeling, whose undeniable touchstone is trial; her faithful heart is more devoted than the idolaters of Mecca, and more priceless than the gems of Golconda. The world may put forth its anathemas; fortune may shower down its advorsities, but in vain; still the unutterable ecstacies of this heaven-born passion are the idol of the human heart. With man, love is never a passion of such intensity and sincerity as with woman. She is a creature of sensibility, existing only in the out-pourings and sympathies of her emotions. Every earthly LOVE. 49 blessing, nay, every heavenly hope, will be sacrificed for her affections. She will leave the sunny home of her childhood, the protecting roof of her kindred, forget the counsels of her* aged father, the admonishing voice of that mother on whose bosom her head has been pillowed, for- ake all she has clung to in her years of girlish simplicity, do all that woman can do consistently with honor, and throw herself into the arms of the man she idolizes. Unrequited love with man is to him never a cause of perpetual mis- ery. Other dreams will flow in upon his imagination. The attraction of business, the meteor of ambition, or the pursuit of wealth, will win him away from his early infatuation. It is not thus with woman, although the scene may change, and years, long, withering, and linger- ing years, steal away the rose from the cheek of beauty ; the ruins of a broken heart can not be reanimate.d; the memories of that idol vis- ion can not be obliterated from the soul. She pines away again until her gentle spirit bids adieu to the treacheries of earth, and flits away into the bosom of her God. The difference that there is between a woman's love and a' man's: his passion may lead him, in the first instance, to act in opposition to opinion, but its influence is only sus- pended, and soon a sneer or a censure wounds his "pride and weakens his love. A woman's heart, on the contrary, reposes more on itself, and a fault found in the object of her attachment is resented as an injury—she is angered, not altered. There is such a thing as. love at first sight, deny it who may; and it is not necessarily a light or transitory feeling because it is sudden. Impressions are often made as indelibly by a glance, as some that grow from imperceptible beginnings, till they become incorporated with our nature. Is not the fixed law of the universe, as illustrated by the magnetic needle, a gauranty for the existence of attraction? And who will say it is not of divine origin ? The passion of love is so, too, when of a genuine kind. Reason and appreciation of character may on longer acquaintance deepen the impressions, " as streams their channels deeper wear," but the seal is set by a higher power than human will, and gives the stamp of happiness or misery to a whole life. I can not but add, how truly deplorable it is that a passion which constitutes almost the only honorable trait in human nature, should now every where be trampled upon by avarice. I trust I shall not wit- ness, as our country advances, the same instances of legal prostitution as I have done in some other parts of the world. I distinguish four seasons of love : first comes love before betrothal, or spring; then comes the summer, more ardent and fierce, which laste 50 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. from the betrothal to the altar; the third, the richly-laden, soft, and dreamy autumn—the honey-moon, and after it the winter, bright, clear winter, when you take shelter by your fireside, from the cold world without, and find every pleasure there. And then there is that love " which passeth all understanding," which emanates from God himself, filling us with exceeding joy, that shall never wear away; like a tender flower, planted in the fertile soil of the heart, it grows, expanding its foliage and imparting its fragrance to all around, till transplanted, it is set to bloom in perpetual love, and unfading brightness in the paradise of God. Follow the star of Bethlehem, the bright and the morning star—the guide to him who in his love gave his dear life for us—it will light you through every labyrinth in the wilderness of life—gild the gloom that will gather around you in a dying hour, and bring you safe over the tempestuous Jordan of death, into the haven of promised and settled rest, to enjoy that love which shall abide forever. RELIGION. Religion is a most cheerful and happy thing to practice, but a most sad and melancholy thing to neglect. The government of God in the soul is a government which regulates, but does not enslave. If we seriously consider what religion is, we shall find the saying of the wise King Solomon to be unexceptionably true: "Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace." The idea that religion is a kind of slavery, to which none can submit without sacri- ficing the natural enjoyments of life, has ever been the greatest hind- rance to its advancement among mankind. How much wiser and better should we be if we could carry along with us, from infancy to old age, the full conviction that happiness is the substantial cultiva- tion and exercise of the Christian virtues, and that piety is the firm- est basis of morality, securing first God's claims, and by so doing securing our own. For, without the belief and hope offered by divine revelation, the circumstances of man are extremely forlorn. He finds himself placed here as a stranger in a vast universe, where the powers and operations of nature are very imperfectly known; where both the beginnings and the issues of things are involved in mysteri- ous darkness; where he is unable to discover with any certainty whence he sprung, or for what purpose he was brought into this state of existence; whether he be subjected to the government of a mild RELIGION. 51 or a wrathful ruler; what construction he is to put on many of the dispensations of his providence; and what his fate is to be when he departs hence. What a disconsolate situation to a serious, inquiring mind. The greater the degree of virtue it possesses, the more its sen- sibility is likely to be oppressed by this burden of laboring thought, even though it were in one's power to banish all uneasy thought and to fill up the hours of life with perpetual amusement; life so filled up would, upon reflection, appear poor and trivial. But these are far from being the terms upon which man was brought into the world. He is conscious that his being is frail and feeble, he sees himself beset with various dangers, and is exposed to many a melancholy apprehension from the evils which he may have to encounter. To reveal to him such discoveries of the Supreme Being as the Christian religion affords, is to reveal to him a father and a friend, and to let in a ray of the most cheering light upon the darkness of his mind. He who was before a destitute wanderer in the inhospitable desert, has now gained a shelter from the bitter and inclement blast. He has found a heavenly father to whom he can pray, and in whom to trust, where tov unbosom his sorrows, and from what hand to look for relief. It is certain, that when the heart bleeds from some wound of recent misfortune, nothing is of equal efficacy with religious comfort. Blessed be God for that religion that has power to enlighten tho darkest hour of life, and to assuage the severest woes, and to afford the hope of a blessed immortality. As the silent dews of night fall upon the flowers, and revive their drooping leaves, so does religion in hours of affliction, revive the spir- its and solace the wounded heart,.—that blessed assurance that gives us strength for all our trials, that takes from misery its bitterness, and strips affliction of its sting. Vain and unprofitable, then, are all earthly advantages. " There is but one thing necessary." The love of God in the heart; it is the fountain from which three streams of virtue will not fail to issue—devotion, self-government, and benev- olence. Religion is the soul of love, it is an instructive light and evidence of what is not to be proved, but which can not deceive, a light which lights us through a thorny path on earth, and at the close of life lights us to heaven. The beauty of a religious life is one of its greatest recommendations—" what does it profess ? Peace to all mankind"—it teaches us those arts which will render us beloved and respected, which will contribute to our present comfort as well as our future happiness. Its greatest ornament is charity—it inculcates nothing but love and simplicity of affection; it breathes 52 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. nothing but the purest delight; it is that pure, invaluable gem which shines brightest in adversity; it is the possession of this sterling jewel that imparts a stimulating impulse unto the heart of man; it is the gentle spirit that leads us to another and a better world; it serves a3 a consolation when mankind desert us, and the cheerless hand of sorrow is placed upon our brow; its magic influence calms the ruffled scenes of life, and makes them glide peacefully away; it soothes the mind in its last hours, removes the sting of death, and gives assurance of the passport of the soul to an endless life of happiness and bliss. The power of religious consolation is sensibly felt upon the approach of death, and blessed be God, for his affording me an opportunity in a thousand instances of witnessing the manifestations of his love in this trying hour, when the last words uttered were, glory! glory! glory ! and without a sigh, or a struggle, they fell asleep in Jesus. It is in moments like these that religion appears in the most striking light, exhibiting the high value of the discoveries made by the gospel; not only life and immortality revealed, but a mediator with God dis- covered, mercy proclaimed through him to the frailties of the penitent and humble, and his presence promised to be with them wh.en they are passing through the valley of the shadow of death, in order to bring them safe into unseen habitations of rest and joy. Here is ground for their leaving the world with comfort and peace But in this severe and trying period, this laboring hour of nature, how shall the unhappy man support himself, who knows not, or believes not, the hope of religion ? His conscience tells him that he has not acted his part as he ought to have done, his sins arise before him in sad remembrance. He wishes to exist after death, and yet dreads that existence. God is unknown. He can not tell whether every endeavor to obtain His mercy may not be in vain. All is dark and mysterious before him, and not a ray of light shines upon his benighted mind : in the midst of endless doubts the trembling, reluct- ant soul is forced away into the presence of its Judge. As the mis- fortunes 6f life must to such a man have been most oppressive, so its end is bitter; his sun sets in a dark cloud, and the night of death closes over his head full of misery. When man temporarily forgets the concerns of the world, and yields the reins of a vivid imagination into the guidance of an unknown power, the past scenes of his vision- ary life flit across his mind as a dream. The first mental inquiry that introduces itself is, if the prospects of this world are so preca- rious; if the pleasures of this life are so transient; if the muta vJ)ility of human events causes us to feel that no confidence can / RELIGION. 53 be reposed in them, to what resource must we apply to become pos- sessed of some secure dependence to support and buoy us up in the hour of trouble? Nature and reason reveal the healing consolation of that blessed religion, light of the world, sole hope of a ruined race renovating principle, which restores life and beauty where all was cor ruption and deformity. The mind of man is like the fluctuating sea. It never is at rest There is a perpetual tendency, which can not be curbed by perpetual disappointment, to send out the desires after some object beyond our present reach. But we are never satisfied by the attainment of any present desires. The law of the natural world, by which object's di- minish according to their distance from us, is not observed in the moral. The objects of our wishes are magnified in proportion to the distance at which we view them. As we approach near the charm is broken, the illusion vanishes. They prove to be but bubbles, which, as soon as touched, dissolve into airy vapor. Still we do not rest. At every fresh disappointment we put forth new desires and new efforts for the attainment of some object yet more remote. Even success the most unbounded does not satisfy us. We weep for more worlds to conquer. Amid this tumult of the mind, this everlasting restlessness of the soul, Religion, benign visitor, heavenly monitor, descends to man. She comes in radiant and alluring form, and addresses him. in accents of winning tenderness: Receive, me and I will say to the swell- ing surge of passion, peace, be still. I will quell the fever of dis- appointment by leading you to fountains of living waters. I will point you the shadow of a great rock in this weary land. Receive me, oh ! thou on whom the Son of God looked with tenderness, and I will direct you to an object of pursuit worthy your heavenly origin, worthy of your nature—but little lower than that of angels, worthy the inward springs of which you are proudly yet painfully conscious. You love pursuit; the object to whieh I will direct you is infinite, therefore your pursuit will be endless. You delight in progress ; here your progress will be commensurate with eternity. Your desires are boundless; you shall be satisfied when you awake in the likeness of God. Not only so, you shall be frequently filled in this house of your pilgrimage with prelibations of pure blessedness. Receive me, and you will never fear what your nature renders so revolting to you, a cessation of hope, expectation, and effort. True, your capacity shall be forever increasing, and forever filling with all the fullness of God. Throughout the immortality of her existence, your soul shall be con- tinually expanding her views, strengthening her energies, and drink 51 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. ing deeper and deeper of the river of pleasure, which flows at the right hand of the Most High. Such are the boundless offers of Religion. All that man can desire, all that nature can receive, more than his utmost powers of apprehension can reach. This is the most important subject that can interest the attention of man; infinitely more so than the great question of human policy, which awakens the energies of the statesman, and arouses the Wisdom of a nation; for the effects of religion are felt in this world amidst all the vicissitudes of fortune, and they extend, beside, into the grave, into the very depths of eternity; that which interests tho immortal spirit, which will decide its destiny during eternity, is so far above the petty considerations which agitate the world, that no comparison can be drawn between them. Christianity enters the hut of the poor man and sit3 down with him and his children ; it makes them contented in the midst of privations, and leaves behind an everlasting blessing. It walks through cities, and amidst all their pomp and splendor, their towering pride and their unutterable misery, is a purifying, ennobling, and redeeming angel. It is alike the beautiful champion of childhood, and the com- forting associate of age. It adds dignity to the noble, gives wisdom to the wise, and new grace to the lovely. The patriot, the minister, the poet, and the eloquent man, all derive their sublime power from its influence. It can not be that earth is man's abiding place. It can not be that our lives are cast up by the ocean of eternity, to float a moment upon its waves and sink into nothingness. Else why is it that the high and glorious aspirations which leap like angels from the temples of our hearts, are forever wandering about unsatisfied ? Why is it that the rainbow and cloud come over us with a beauty not of earth, and then pass off and leave us to muse upon their faded loveliness ? Why is it that the stars that hold their festival around the midnight throne are set above the grasp of our limited faculties, forever mocking us with their unapproachable glory ? And finally, why is it that brighter forms of human beauty are pre- sented to our view and taken away from us, leaving the thousand streams of our affection to flow back in alpine torrents upon o»r hearts? We are born for a higher destiny than that of earth! There is a realm where the rainbow never fades, where the stars will spread out before us like islands that slumber on the ocean;. and where the beautiful beings, which here pass before us like shadows, RELIGION. 55 will stay in our presence forever. " In Heaven there is rest! " It is a truth deeply impressed on the mind of every man, and familiar oven to the most thoughtless, that in this life there is to be found but little rest; there is always something to disturb, excite, perplex, disappoint. weary us. The rosy cheeked infant, the curly headed boy, the bloom ing beauty, the man of business, and they of three score and ten, all appear restless and dissatisfied. Some are unhappy for the want or the loss of friends or relations, of health or pleasure, of riches or employment. Thousands of others suffer from a guilty conscience, from the effects of crime, and from the fears of future judgment. But though the Christian may feel the effects of sin and suffer from sickness and bereavement, yet the assurance of rest in Heaven cheers and comforts him amid all the sorrows and afflictions of time. " In Heaven there is rest." There will be rest from sin, from sor- row, and from sickness; rest from troubles, and trials, and temptation There will be no false or treacherous friends, no deceitful associates, no unkind relations, no bitter enemies. There the mind shall be no longer oppressed by cares and anxieties, nor overburdened with diffi- culties. There will be no sleepless nights, no wearisome days, no secret sighs, no bitter groans, no scalding tears, no unrequited love, no'sundering of tender ties, no parting with those we love, no fear of disease, no suffering from pain, no dread of death, no dark and gloomy grave; but all will be sweet and undisturbed repose—all will be peace, happiness, and love. Like the leaves of the forest, we come forth in beauty, pass on with the summer, and then sink to the earth. A few days only and the rose fades from the cheek, the limbs are palsied, and our forms mingle with the dust. * " I envy no quality of the mind or intellect in others, be it genius, power, wit, or fancy; but if I could choose what would be most delightful, and I believe most useful to me, I should prefer a firm religious belief to every other blessing, for it makes life a discipline of goodness, creates new hopes, when all earthly ones vanish, and throws over the destruction of existence the most gorgeous of all lights, awakens life ev^n in death, from corruption and decay calls up beauty and divinity, makes an instrument of torture and shame the ladder of ascent to paradise; and far above all combinations of earthly hopes, calls up the most delightful visions of palms and amaranths, the gardens of the blest, the security of everlasting joys, where the sen- sualist and the skeptic view only gloom, decay, annihilation, and despair." Religion! It is not an abstraction. It is not an ideality living in 5G GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. the brain, but leaving the heart untouched. It does not consist in peculiar frames of mind, in the excitement of animal feeling, or the overflow of these sensibilities, in the kindling of the fancy, or the heating of the imagination. It lives, not merely in visible manifestations of devotion, in the bowing of the knee, or the lifting of the hands, or long prayers, or the long drawn sighs, or extreme cadaverous long faces. All these may be without religion, and religion may exist without them. I have seen all these. It is benevolent action flowing forth from holy motives. It is that charity which " hoping all things, believing all things," contents not itself with a " be ye warmed, be ye clothed," but performs the good which it desires. It is that love which throws its embraces around all human kind, loves its neighbor as its self. It is that benevolence, which, like a river of good, gushing from a pure fountain, flows freely forth to all, spreading beauty and blessed- ness around, causing the desolate places of the earth to rejoice, and making the wilderness bud and blossom as the rose. It knows not the lust of power. It seeks not its own preferment. Its kingdom is not of this world. It is too high to envy the proudest, too meek to despise the humblest. It hath no fellowship with bigotry. It despi- seth not its brother because he differeth in opinions. Its creed is, " Do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly before God." Its sect is, " The pure in heart?" The temple of His worship is the universe, and without hypocrisy. It is a transcript of Rim who spent his life in doing good. It is the spirit of God living in the human heart. He is the Christian for us, who is always ready to take out his purse and assist the needy ; who visits the widow and the fatherless, and keeps "himself unspotted from the world;" who is never at a loss to speak in their affliction, when pleasant words arc more valuable than gold. God honors such a soul—angels hover about his path, and devils trem- ble before him. Such a man is worth to humanity and religion four score of those long-faced, whining hypocrites, who tell what they would do, but are never ready to obey the dictates of common humanity. Give us an army of the truly kind-hearted and benevolent Christians, and we will pledge ourselves to march through the world, conquering and subduing, and bring about that day when wars and bickerings shall cease, and earth resemble heaven. " Charity covereth a multitude of sins." But there are more ways than one of showing kindness to the unfortunate. No doubt the giving of money and other helps are often of very great moment; but there is another kind of charity which is cheaper, and of which we should not be forgetful, lest we should exclaim RELIGION. 57 " Thank God I am not as other men." Do not turn the man off, who in the hour of temptation yielded to a first fault. Bear with him yet a little longer ; give him another trial. While you condemn his mis- step, encourage him to good deeds for the future. If you cast him off forever, he may reel blindly and continue to fall until ruin shall have fixed her seal permanently upon him. Be charitable—make due allow- ance for the weakness of poor humanity. A gentle word, a kind look, an encouraging smile, may save a human being from the abyss of des- pair. How sweet is the remembrance of a kind act; as we rest on our pillows, or rise in the morning, it gives us delight; we have performed a good deed to a poor mln; we have made the widow's heart to rejoice ; we have dried the orphan's tears—sweet, oh ! how sweet the thought! There is a luxury in remembering the kind act. A storm careers above our heads : all is black as midnight—but the sunshine is in our bosom, the warmth is felt there. The kind act rejoiceth the heart, and giveth delight inexpressible. Who will not be kind ? Who will not do good ? Who will not visit those who are afflicted in body and mind ? Blessed be God for that Religion which supports us amidst the dis- tresses of life, and sustains us in the hour of death. How dark this world would be, if when deceived and wounded here, we could not fly to our Heavenly Father, who is always ready to dry the mourner's tears, and still the troubled heart. Here it incontestably triumphs, and its happy effects, in this respect, furnish a strong inducement to every benevolent mind, to aim at having them farther diffused through- out the world. For without the belief and hope afforded by divine revelation, the circumstances of man are extremely forlorn. He finds himself placed here as a stranger in a vast universe, where the powers and operations of nature are very imperfectly known; where, involved in mysterious darkness, he is unable to discover, with any certainty, whence he springs, or for what purpose he was brought into this state of existence; whether he be subject to the government of a mild or a wrathful ruler; what construction he is to put on many of the dis- pensations of God's providence, and what his fate is to be when he departs hence. What a disconsolate situation to a serious, inquiring mind. The greater degree of virtue it possesses, its sensibility is likely to be the more oppressed by this burden of laboring thought. Even though it were in one's power to banish all uneasy thought, and to fill up the hours of life with perpetual amusement, life so filled up, would, upon reflection, appear poor and worthless. But these are far from being the terms upon which man is brought into this world. He is conscious that his being is frail and feeble; he sees himself beset 58 gunn's family physician. with various dangers, and is exposed to many melancholy apprehen sions from the evils which he may have to encounter, before he ar- rives at the close of life. In this distressed condition, to reveal to him a father and a friend, is to let in a ray of the most cheering light upon the darkness of the human estate. He who was before a des- titute orphan wandering in an inhospitable desert, has now gained a shelter from the bitter and inclement blast. He now knows to whom to pray, and in whom to trust, where to unbosom his sorrows, and from what hand to look for relief. It is certain, that when the heart bleeds from some wound of recent misfortune, nothing is of equal efficacy with religious comfort. It has power to enlighten in the darkest hour, and to assuage the severest woe, by the belief of a divine power, and the prospect of a blessed immortality. On such hopes the mind expatiates with joy, and when bereaved of its earthly friends, solaces itself with thoughts of one friend who will never forsake it. Refined reasonings concerning the nature of the human condition, and the improvements which philosophy teaches us to make of every event, may entertain the mind when it is at ease; may, perhaps, con- tribute to soothe it when slightly touched with sorrow; but when it is torn with any sore distress, they are cold and feeble, compared with a direct promise from the word of God. " This is an anchor to the soul, both sure and steadfast." This has given consolation and refuge to many a virtuous heart, at a time when the most cogent reasonings would have proved utterly unavailing. Upon the approach of death especially, when, if a man thinks at all, his anxiety about future interests must naturally increase, the power of religious consolation is sensibly felt. Then appears, in the most striking light, the high value of the discoveries made by the gospel, not only life and immortality revealed, but a Mediator with God discovered ; mercy proclaimed, through him, to the frailties of the penitent and the hum- ble, and his presence promised to be with them, when they are passing through the " valley of the shadow of death," in order to bring them safe into unseen habitations of rest and joy. Here is ground for their leaving the world with comfort and peace. But in this severe and try- ing period, this laboring period of nature, how shall the unhappy man support himself, who knows not, or believes not, in the hope of religion; secretly conscious to himself, that he has not acted his part as he ought; the sins of his past life rise before him, in sad remembrance; he wishes to exist after death, yet dreads that existence. The Governor of the world is unknown. He can not tell whether every endeavor to obtain his mercy may not be in vain. All is awful obscurity around him; and religion. 59 in the midst of endless doubts and perplexities, the trembling, reluctant soul is forced away from the body. As the misfortunes of life must be to such a man most oppressive, so its end is bitter; his sun sets in a dark cloud.'and the night of death closes over his head full of misery, Then consult your own conscience; what does she say is the great end of life ? Listen to her voice in the chambers of your own heart, She tells you that there is only one stream that is pure, and that stream flows from the throne of God; but one aim is noble and worthy of an immortal spirit, and that is to become the friend of God, so that the soul may wing her way over the grave without fear, without dismay, without condemnation. There is only one path passing over the earth which is safe, which is light, which is honorable. It is that which Jesus Christ has marked out in his word, and which leads to glory. Let con- science speak when you are tempted to waste a day or an hour, or to commit any known sin, to neglect any known duty, and she will urge you by all the high and holy motives of eternity, to live for God, to give your powers to.him, to seek his honor in all that you do. We pity the man who has no religion in his heart; no high and irre- sistible yearning after a better and a holier existence ; who is contented with the sensuality and grossness of earth; whose spirit never revolts at the darkness of its prison-house, nor exults at the thoughts of its final emancipation. We pity him, for he affords no evidence of his high origin, no manifestation of that intellectual prerogative, which renders him the delegated lord of the visible creation. He can rank no higher than animal nature ; the spiritual could never stoop so lowly. To seek for beastly excitements—to minister with a bountiful hand to ' depraved and strong appetites—are attributes of the animal alone. To limit our hopes and aspirations to this world, is like remaining forever in the place of our birth without ever lifting the vail of tne visi- ble horizon which bent over our infancy. There is religion in every thing around us; a calm and holy religion in the unbreathing things of nature which man would do well to imi- tate. It is a meek and blessed influence stealing in as it were unawares upon the heart. It comes quietly and without excitement. It has no terror, no gloom in its approaches. It does not rouse the passions; it is untrammeled by creeds, and unshadowed by the superstitions of man. It is fresh from the hands of its author ; and glowing from the immediate presence of the Great Spirit, which pervades and quickens it. It is written on the arched sky. It looks out from every star. It is on the sailing cloud, and in the invisible wind. It is among the "hills and valleys of earth—where the shrubless mountain tops pierce the CO GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. thin atmosphere of eternal winter, or where the mighty forest fluctuates before the strong wind, with its dark waves of green foliage. It is spread out like a legible language upon the broad face of the unsleep- ing ocean. It is the poetry of nature. It is this, which uplifts the spirit within us, until it is tall enough to overlook the shadows of our place of probation; which breaks link after link the chain which binds us to materiality; and which opens to our imagination a world of spir- itual beauty and holiness. Witness the influence of pure religion upon those who walk in the ways of righteousness, looking to the " end of time" for the fulfillment of God's own purposes. True faith fills society with happy hearts and smiling faces; fanaticism crowds the asylums with lunatics, and the streets with deranged mendicants. Eternity contemplated afar off, through the medium of faith and hope, reveals the abode of the just made perfect; when brought too near by the excited imagination, it palsies the mind with fear and dethrones reason by its appalling terror. Blessed are they who so improve life's little space, that the autumn of existence and hand of death are seen to approach without exciting an emotion of regret or a shade of fear. The following is the closing paragraph of the will of Patrick Henry : "I have now disposed of all my property to my family; there is one thing more I wish I could give them, and that is the Christian religion. If they had this, and I had not given them one shilling, they would be rich; and if they had it not, and I had given them all the world, they would be poor." This opinion of that celebrated man confirms the importance of religion in a dying hour. He was only answering the question propounded by the author of our holy religion, " What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?" Christ re-established the unity of human nature. He taught us the principles of eternal justice, and the grand secret of all harmony and happiness on earth as in heaven—love. Till wc arrive at that point of his system, we are unacquainted with Christianity, and are ignorant of our natures and our destinies. The dogmas and the mysteries that even the very highest disciples have wrapped around this glorious sun of the Christian system—this all-embracing sentiment of universal love— have only obscured its light from us, and screened from us its vital warmth. The gospel does not consist in doctrines and ceremonies, but in love. But to love we must know who are worthy of our love; and here again the revelation of Christ embraced the infinite : '' Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." And then came the question—" "Who is my neighbor ?" and the answer expressed in an immortal story was, "Every one who needs thy help." AFFECTION. 61 Bishop Butler, when on his death bed, observed, " that though ho had endeavored to avoid sin and please God, yet, from the conscious- ness which he felt of perpetual infirmities, he was still afraid to die. " My dear friend," said a poor but pious man, who was in the room with him, " You have forgotten that Jesus Christ is a Savior.' " True," was the answer, " But how shall I know that he is a Savior fcr me ?" " My dear Bishop, it is written, ' He that cometh unto ma I will in no wise cast out.' " " True," replied the Bishop, with joy depicted in his countenance, " I am surprised that, though I have read the scriptures a thousand times over, I never felt its virtues till this moment, and blessed be God, I now die happy." In conclusion, I will say, Religion will light you through every labyrinth in the wilder- ness of life, gild the gloom that will gather around you in a dying hour, and bring you safely over the tempestuous Jordan of Death into the haven of promised and eternal rest. AFFECTION, The Mother's Affection. Alas! how little do we appreciate a other's tenderness while living. How heedless are we in youth of all her anxieties and kindness. But when she is dead and gone ; and when the cares and coldness of the world come withering to our hearts, when we find how hard it is to find true sympathy, how few love us for ourselves, how few will befriend us in our misfortunes, then it is that we think of the mother that we have lost. It is true, I had always loved my mother, even in my most heedless days of infancy, when I was led by a mother's hand and rocked to sleep in a mother's arms, and was without care or sorrow. " Oh! my mother!" exclaimed I, burying my face again in the grass of the grave, " Oh! that I were once more by your side, sleeping never to wake again* on the cares and troubles of this world." Scarcely a day passes that we do not hear of the loveliness of woman; the affection of a sister, or the devotedness of a wife, and it is the remembrance of such things that cheers and comforts the dreariest hours of life, yet a mother's love far exceeds them in strength, in disinterestedness and in purity. The child of her bosom may have forsaken and left her, he may have disregarded all her instructions and warnings, he may have become an outcast from soci ety, and none may care for or notice him, yet his mother changes not nor is her love weakened, and for him her prayers still ascend. i G2 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. Sickness may weary other friends, misfortunes drive away familiar acquaintances, and poverty leave none to lean upon, yet they affect not a mother's love,, but only call into exercise, in a still greater degree, her tenderness and affection. The mother has duties to perform which are weighty and responsi- ble ; the lisping infant must be taught how to live, the thoughtless child must be instructed in wisdom's ways, the tempted youth must be advised and warned, the dangers and difficulties of life must be pointed out, and lessons of virtue must be impressed on the mind. Her words, acts, faults, frailties, and temper, are all noticed by those thit surround her, and impressions made in the nursery exert a more pow- erful influence in forming the character, than do any after instruc- tions. If passions are unrestrained, if truth is not adhered to, if consist- ency is not seen, if there be a want of affection or a murmuring at the dispensations of Providence, the youthful mind will receive the impression, and subsequent life will develop it. But if all is purity, sincerity, truth, contentment, and love, then will the result be a bless- ing, and many will rejoice in the example and influence of the pious mother. There is something in sickness that breaks down the pride of man- hood, that softens the heart and brings it back to the feelings of infancy. Who that has languished, even in advanced )tfe, in sickness, and despondency, that has pined on a weary bed, in the neglect and loneliness of a foreign land, but has thought on the mother that looked on his childhood, that smoothed his pillow, and administered to his helplessness ? Oh ! there is an enduring tenderness in the love of a mother to a son that transcends all other affections of the heart. It is neither to be chilled by selfishness nor daunted by danger, nor weak- ened by worthlessness, ncr stifled by ingratitude. She will sacrifice every comfort to his convenience; she will surrender every pleasure to his enjoyment; she will glory in his fame, and exult in his prosperity; and if adversity overtake him, he will be dearer to her by misfortune, and if disgrace settle upon his name, she will still love and cherish him ; and if all the world beside cast him off, she will be all the world to him. Round the idea of one's mother the mind of a man clings with a fond affection. It is the first deep thought stamped upon our infant hearts, when yet soft and capable of receiving the most pro- found impressions, and all the after feelings of the world are more or less light in comparison. Even in our old age we look back to thai object of our filial love, and remember with deep regret how often we FEAR. 63 have violated her commands and neglected her affectionate counsels; but when death has stilled her monitory voice, and nothing but calm memory remains to recapitulate her virtues and affections, be sure that every unkind look, every ungracious word, every improper action, will come rushing back upon memory, and knocking dolefully at the heart, will tell us of our ingratitude. FEAR. It is well known that the depressing emotions of fear, despair, etc., produce a liability to disease in circumstances in themselves harmless. For example, persons who entertain great apprehension of disease are more apt to take it. For instance ; during the cholera hundreds were seized by this complaint who might otherwise have escaped, and as many died of fear; and many died in my presence entirely under the influence of the imagination. Sir George Bolingwell, in his valuable medical work, states that about four per cent, is the usual proportion of sick, who die, though really healthy, from the effects of fear, and that such are the beneficial effects of success and cheerfulness, that in the French army, after the battle of Austerlitz, there were only one hundred invalids in a division of eight thousand, or only one to eighty. Impressions are often made on the minds of children of so appalling a nature that they never recover from the shock. Though of a fearless disposition as regards even the most awful of the ordinary causes of terror, they will exhibit through life a very noticable cowardice when- ever brought into contact with the object of their childish dread. I have known men who would be the first to plant a standard on a hos- tile fort, or board a vessel fighting hand to hand with the enemy, and yet would turn pale with affright at the idea of passing a church- yard alone in a dark night, or even at entering a dark room. Mar- shal Saxe, one of the bravest men who ever commanded an army on the battle-field, would never retire to rest until he had carefully exam- ined the closets in his chamber, and looked under the bed. There ia nothing more dangerous and often more fatal, in its effects, than the nabit of terrifying children, in order to punish them for misconduct. A small girl, only seven years of age, for some childish act of dis- obedience was thrust into a dark cellar at some distance from the house, and suffered to remain there through the night. The dreadfid cries and screams which the child uttered produced no effect on the 04 GUNN'S FAMILY; PHYSICIAN. cruel and imprudent parents, and when the door was opened in the morning the unfortunate child was an idiot. All medical assistance proved unsuccessful in her case, and she is now a liring spectacle in New York, of the cruelty and ignorance of this unfeeling and miser- able family. There is nothing more abominable than the system adopted by some parents and instructors of small children, of frightening them by way of punishment. In this way evils are often produced. It is the case, assuredly indeed, that the sudden shocks of fear, when admin- istered to children for the sake of a joke, are not unfrequently attended with most serious consequences, as in the case of a child in Virginia, that was frightened to death. The circumstances which led to this melancholy catastrophe, arc not of unusual occurrence. The child was playing with its companions and was told by them, in sport, that a rag man was about to carry him off in his bag. Alarmed with fear, the child ran into the house, when the object of his terror unfortunately coming into the house also, he uttered a shriek and instantly expired. This is not the first nor only instance of the fatal consequences of fright upon children, and even upon adults pecu- liarly susceptible of fear. An English paper received by the last arrival of the Ilibcrnia contains the following paragraph. " A girl named Margaret Pete, in order to amuse some companions, dressed herself in a white garment and put on a hideous black mask, in which disguise issuing suddenly from her residence in Palmer's Folly, Rat cliffe-highway, London, she caused so much terror to a child that it died on the following Friday morning. The girl was taken into cus- tody, and detained till after the coroner's inquest, when she was reprimanded and discharged." Indeed, cases are known in which young persons have had their minds entirely overthrown and been doomed to lives of idiocy by the unprincipled follies of their acquaintances, who have devised and executed some cruel plan of making sport of their fears. Such conduct has no apology. Those who are guilty of it should be held accountable, as the man who levels a deadly weapon at the life of a fellow-creature. And yet this attempt to excite the fears of a child is not unfrequently resorted to by parents, as a salutary punishment. Bugbears are created to frighten the young innocent into obedience. This is unphilosophical, and in the highest degree barbarous in its nature, often entailing wretchedness in the shape of unnecessary fears on the being whose courage and determination should be fortified and strengthened, instead of being sapped and destroyed by the unnatural and ANGER. 65 unthinking parent. It is sometimes the case that persons, who for the sake of a good practical joke, in attempting to frighten others get sadly frightened themselves, or in some other way receive a punish- ment which they richly deserve. A case is related in the Medical Journal, of a young man in the country, who, on learning that somo frolicsome girls intended going into a neighboring cornfield, one eve- ning, to get some ears of corn to roast, determined to frighten them. He accordingly wrapped around his figure a white sheet to represent a ghost, and parting from his associates proceeded toward the field in high glee. What he had beheld or met with to excite his fears was never known, but he was soon heard to utter a loud scream, and was soon after seen, still wrapped in the white sheet, running with great rapidity through the fields. At last he reached the house, absolutely frightened out of his senses. He was attacked with epileptic fits which succeeded each other rapidly. When the fit was not on him he seemed much terrified, imagining something horrible, and begged and entreated to have it taken away. ANGER. i Anger is a violent emotion of the mind, arising from an injury either real or imaginary, which openly vents itself against the offending party. The gusts of anger are often productive of the most dreadful con- sequences, and those who give way to this dreadful spirit, rapidly destroy their constitution, by impairing the nervous system, weakening the energies of the brain, and often producing apoplexy, or sudden death. So nicely and wonderfully are we made, that all the internal feelings have a strong influence upon the body. The truth of this observation is evident from the effects produced upon those who give way to this brutal rage, degenerating from every noble sentiment to an indulgence in that which so often produces the most demoralizing effects. The passionate man when under its influence becomes incapa- ble of distinguishing right from wrong. As an idiot or a madman, he is carried away by the impulse of the moment, a caprice of the imagin- ation ; as violent as a gust of wind, he rashly determines his conduct, and hurries to the perpetration of actions, which in his calmer moments strike him with remorse. Behold that countenance under the influence of passion; it wears the strongest and most visible marks of its uncon- trollable power; all the nerves are put into the most violent agitation, the frame is continually shattered by its repeated attacks, and not unfre- 5 CG GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. quently it destroys the vital powers. Anger, as it proceeds originally from the mind, ruffles that as well as the body; the calm and quiet affections, which diffuse peace and joy around them, fly at its approach and, are succeeded by a black train of evil passions which carry their own punishment, by inflicting the most bitter torment. Nor do the ill effects subside when anger ceases, the mind still retains its commotion like the raging sea, which continues in a state of agitation though the winds have abated. It has been argued that anger is the consequence of a peculiar frame of the body, but this is a simple argument, as it is in the power of every one to control his passions if he is but watchful, It was a memorable saying of Peter the Great, " I have civilized my country, but I can not civilize myself." He was at times vehement and impetuous, and committed under the impulse of his fury the most unwarrantable excesses, yet we learn that even he was known to tame his anger, and to rise superior to the vio- lence of his passions. Being one evening in a select company where something was said that gave him great offense, his rage suddenly kin- dled and rose to the utmost pitch; though he could not command^ his first emotions, he had resolution enough to leave the company. He walked bareheaded for some time under the most violent agitation, in an intense frosty air, stamping on the ground, and beating his head with all the marks of the greatest fury and passion, and did not return to the company until he was quite composed. Let not any one say, he jan not govern his passions, nor hinder them from breaking out and car- rying him into action ; for what he can do before a prince or a great man, he can do alone or in the presence of God if he will. " Be not hasty in thy spirit to anger, for anger resteth in the bosom of fools."—[Solomon.'] There are some persons who profess to be fol- lowers of the meek and lowly Jesus, that consider themselves licensed to fall into a paroxysm of anger, on any private occasion, and to abuse their neighbors, scold, cuff, and kick their servants and children, until the surplus amount of steam has been permitted to escape. Is this the spirit of Christ? Nay. Then verily they are none of his. Such a course of conduct grieves the spirit of God, and if continued in, will destroy peace of mind, weaken the intellect, and make the body, which should be a temple for the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, a foul cage, fit only for the habitation of every unclean bird. Did not he who said, "Thou shalt not kill," say, "Be not given to anger." Why then are wc privileged to do the one and not the other ? Be not deceived, brethren, God is not mocked; " he that soweth to the flesh, shall of the flesh reap corruption;" " a stone is heavy and the sand is weighty, "..6uioiicu muu, aiiu nave nis name written on the pages of history, hope tells him that this, and more than this, shall be attained. It is / HOPE. 67 but a fool's wrath is heavier than them both ;" " wrath is ciuel, and ano-er is outrageous;" therefore, let us govern our tempers, be kind, gentle and forbearing to all, and in all our domestic concerns, let our smiles and kind words gladden the hearts of those that are made dear to us by the ties of earth and heaven. By thus ministering to the hap- piness of others, we shall secure our own. But by being fretful and passionate, we render ourselves miserable and all those with whom we associate. Reader, if you are kind, gentle, and affable in deport- ment to all, you are blessed; but if you are not so at all times, try the experiment and God will bless your efforts with the richest cup of bless- ing. It may cost you many days, even years of toil, to overcome this soul-destroying enemy; but God will bring you off conqueror, and more than conqueror through him that loved us, and gave himself for us. But if you strive not, and gain not the victory, for these tilings God will bring you into judgment, and where he is, you can never come. Have a care every day, that nothing put you into a passion; do nothing with an over-eagerness of mind; and be ever on your guard against sudden accidents. And this can never be obtained, but by committing yourself and your affairs into God's hand and care every day ; believing that he governs all things wisely, and will ever do that which is best for you. HOPE. There is not a word in our language, which has more numerous or more pleasant associations connected with it than Hope. With its sound even as it falls on the ear, we are accustomed to link all the grate- ful emotions and joyful sensations which its indulgence never fails to impart, and on account of which it is considered one of the dearest privileges that man can possess. Wherever we turn our eyes among mankind, we see the influence of Hope. It begins with the first dawning of reason, and ends only with life itself. Before the eye of youth, hope spreads the future clothed in all the glowing colors of imagination; it promises him happiness, honor, and fame, and tells him that his most ardent expectations shall be more than realized. Would he climb the hill of science and stand first among her votaries, hope whispers in his ear, that nothing can be more easy. Does he long for wealth, hope says it shall be his. Would he be a dis- tinguished man, and have his name written on the pages of history, hope tells him that this, and more than this, shall be attained. It is 68 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. hope that imparts to youth half their happiness and vivacity; and tc age a blessed assurance. Take it away, and you leave a blank which it would be impossible to fill. If we survey the busy world around us, we shall see no one who is not actuated, in one way or another, by this all-pervading principle. Each has some favorite object in view, which it leads him to believe he can accomplish. Each one is engaged in some occupation which he thinks most likely to aid him in accomplishing and realizing his wishes. Look at the man of business, see how entirely absorbed he seems to be in the pursuit of gain, with what anxious looks he hurries to and fro, and with what eagerness he embraces each opportunity of increasing his treasure. Watch the changing outlines of his troubled brow ; and if you can read the thoughts thereon inscribed, you will find that the sub- ject which is ever uppermost in his mind, is the hope of gain. The student, whose whole soul is in his studies, is found bending over his books from morning till night; he consumes the midnight oil in search of knowledge, and thus in his ardent thirst changes night into day. It is the hope of one day standing first in the ranks of literature that enables him to plod along from day to day, storing his mind with the choicest gems that science can afford, even while he is admonished that disease is making encroachments upon his system. Again, look at the man whose god is ambition. He may be a states- man, a warrior, or an author, it matters not; see with what persever- ance he surmounts every obstacle that lies in his way to eminence, and how constantly he struggles on, it may be against persecution and big- otry, carefully removing every impediment, until finally he attains the summit of his hopes, and sees no one above him whose honors he can snatch. He looks proudly on, and views all his competitors toiling far below him, surveying with wistful eye the eminence on which his feet are securely placed. What is it, we may ask, that guides him forward ? It is the hope of fame. In our adversities and troubles, when all whom we esteemed as our friends have forsaken us, hope displays its real value, it cheers us onward, gives us promises of better days, and whis- hers in our ears that all may yet be well. The prisoner in his cell, who is perhaps to die on the morrow, still has hope, and it is not until the fatal rope has put an end to his exist- ence, that it forsakes him. That aged sire, whose locks are whitened by the snows of four score winters, still thinks he may live a few years longer, and death's arrow may pierce his bosom while hope is still glow- ing there. One would think that old age, after having witnessed so HOPE. 69 i^any wishes unrealized, and expectations blasted, would no more listen to her syren song, but the dying man still clings to this eternal prin- ciple, this blissful passion, and as the lamp blazes brightest when gleam- ing its last, its spark flies heavenward, and is rekindled upon the altar of eternity. Hope is the connecting link between the past and the future. It is a constant prophet, save that it always dresses out events to come in a gaudy attire, which fades and blackens when the wheels of time bring us to the consummation. Were it not for this earnest of the future, this principle implanted in the breast of man, he would have nothing for which to live, nothing to induce him to drag out a miserable existence. Never is hope so wild and imaginative, and we may say deceitful too, as in youth; never so sober, so true, so stable, as in age. Although hope is often delusive, yet in the greatest misery, the least flickering ray of sunshine pouring into the caverns of the heart, revives the drooping soul, and excites action, as when some precious gem under the sunbeam flashes its radiance round the darkened cell, and springs into multiplied existence. Then hope on, frail mortal, what though thy path be rugged and strewed with thorns ? Thou hast only to persevere and thy reward awaits thee. Many days and nights, perchance years, hast thou struggled with adversity. Thou hast said in thine heart," Woe is me—wherefore was I born ?" Hope then whispered, persevere, before thee lies thy reward. What though thou art poor, despised by those it may be who are thy inferiors in all save wealth. What matters it, that thy short life is exposed to the rude blasts of adverse fortune, if, at last, thou art crowned with immortality which those who rudely push thee from them think not of. Hope on, then, in thy poverty—-be honest in thy humility—aspire to be truly great by being truly good. Hope carries its consoling rays into the recesses of the dungeon, smiles serenely on the bed of sickness, sustains in every period of life, and sheds its grateful radiance around the pillow of the dying. It blooms in every season of existence, and like the evergreen it preserves its verdure throughout the year. Hope is a secret instinct to draw our minds to future happiness. Our Heavenly Father has given us a hope of that blessed immortal- ity, where the troubles and cares of an unsatisfying world will for ever cease, and the soft and balmy breath of an eternal spring soothe tho spirit's soft repose in the haven of eternal rest, where we shall again meet with those on whom death laid his withering hand—the fairest buds of our earthly love expanded into lovely flowers, and hear again 7C GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. the voices of those dear ones, who shared with us our earthly sorrows; a meeting that shall never be dissolved, a reunion in the presence of God where death can never come, or rob us of our dearest friends. How true then the sentiment of the apostle, that '' Hope is an an- chor to the soul." How bright and beautiful is that hope that meets the shadowy future without fear, which comes to us amid storms and darkness, to tell us we have a friend in our dear Redeemer that will never forsake us in the hour of misfortune, sickness, or death. We feel the necessity, then, of that blessed hope, which sheds its balmy influence over the silence and loneliness of the human heart, and build- ing up anew the broken altars of its faith and reviving again the drooping flowers of its desolate affections, in the hope of forgiveness, and in the promise of that blessed Savior, who has said, "lie that believeth on me, though he were dead, yet shall he live." uBut blessed be God that the righteous hath hope in Iris death, through his dear Son, our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ*" Contemplate, through the unnumbered saints that have died, the soul, the true and unextinguished life of man, charmed away from this globe by celestial music and already respiring the gales of eternity. If we could assemble in one view all the adoring addresses to the Deity, all the declarations of faith in Jesus, all the gratulations of con- science, all the admonitions and benedictions of weeping friends, and all the gleams of opening glory ; our souls would burn with the senti- ment which made the wicked Baal am devout for a moment, and to exclaim, " Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his;" and when hope shall fold her golden wings on earth then shall we behold, through faith, that hope which grows stronger in death. The venerable Matthew Wilkes called upon the Rev. John Wyatt, his colleague in the ministry, who was at the point of death. " Well, brother Hyatt," said the good old man, "I have sometimes heard you say in the pulpit, that if you had a hundred souls you could venture them all on Christ; can you say so now ? " The dying saint, though worn nearly to a skeleton and almost suffocated with phlegm, made an effort to speak, and with his eyes almost flashing fire, replied," Blessed be God, a million ! a million! " and in a few moments he expired. Without hope, how dreary would be the world ; appearing to the care-worn pilgrim one wide desert, all the paths of which are sur- rounded with misery, beset with trouble, and embittered with sorrow! But hope lights us ©n our way; when darkness lowers and gloom oppresses, hope strengthens our faltering steps, collects our scattered HOPE. 71 senses, and presents to our view a pleasing prospect lying before us and just within our reach; we spring forward with alacrity, and often pass our lives in the eager pursuit, with as much pleasure as if we had obtained the object of our wishes. Hope raises the sinking heart and restores the courage which begins to .-droop ; and each time I feel the magic influence of her rays, I will bless thee, Oh my God! and thank thee for the daily benefits I receive, as well as for those reserved for me at a future time. Blessed forever be thy divine mercy, which permits me to hope that when time here shall be no more, my glad soul shall quit these narrow confines, to repose in the bosom of its Creator, through the countless ages of eternity. Were it not for this certainty of immortality, this fond hope of eternal life and happiness, few would be the incitements to virtue, and weak the inducements to mental improvement; when oppressed by care and weighed down by misery, we should have little encouragement to continue longer in a world checkered by misfortune; or, did affluence favor us, we should be tempted to indulge in the thoughtless round of continued dissipa- tion. But with the expectation of a future glorious state of existence, we can smile at care and trouble, arm ourselves against the fleeting pleasures of this life, and pity the deluded disciples of folly and dis- sipation. There is a deep spring of joy in hope to the human breast, whose waters, while life remains, never cease to flow. It is this that renders existence tolerable, and even precious to the bereaved and desolate wayfarer as he treads his downward path to the grave. When all around is dark, and want and wretchedness stare us in the face, when in the past all is barren, and in the future there is no ray to light the wanderer in his pilgrimage, there is still a spirit of hope within him teaching him to gather the few flowers that yet remain within his reach, though they be of fading beauty and dyino- fra- grance. The faint glimmerings of the pale-faced moon on the troubled billows of the ocean, are not so fleeting and inconstant as the fortune and condition of human life. We one day bask in the sun- shine of prosperity, and the next, too often, roll in anguish on the thorny bed of adversity and affliction. How many are doomed to roam in this wide world alone, unpitied and unknown? What can cheer the mind, raise the drooping soul, calm the agitated bosom, and throw a cheering light on the future ? It is hope ! sweet hope ! thou ministering spirit of Heaven, who visitest the abodes of misery, wipest the tear from sorrow's eye', chasest away the anguish of despair, sweetenest the cup of affliction with thine all-soothing and syren voice. 72 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. And when the solemn hour of death shall come, and the lamp of l*fe but faintly glimmers in the feeble frame, hope shall bid us look to a better and brighter world than this, to live and reign with the blessed Redeemer in never ending joys, such joys as " ear never heard, nor eye hath seen; nor has it ever entered into human mind to conceive," that never ending bliss which is prepared for those who love and serve God. CHEERFULNESS, Cheerfulness freshens the heart and makes it healthy and vigor- ous. The gloom and shadows that pass over the mind make us wretched and miserable, but the influence of sweet cheerfulness passes over it like pleasant summer breezes, making creation glad. The heart would be cold and desolate, were it not warmed by the genial, sunny rays of cheerfulness. Spring with its smiles gladdens the earth, but when summer comes, nature bursts forth into a strain of cheerfulness that makes the very face of all things to shine with beauty and fruitfulness. This sentiment imparts elasticity to the mind, and exerts over the disposition and intellect a powerful influence in preserving health. It throws a charm over all the acts of life, and is the companion of hope, spreading its genial rays over th> heart, amidst the trials and difficulties of the world. Its true votary does not yield to the troubles which he knows are incidental to existence. When the storm bursts over his head, ho adapts his mind to his con- dition, and reflects that if it rage with violence, it will, probably, the sooner pass away. If ho embarks in unlucky speculation, he treas- ures up his experience, and gains in wisdom what he loses in wealth. Success in love blesses him with joy. All his interests, all his hopes, all his pleasures, center in the object of his affection. He gathers around her the dearest wishes of his heart, and clings to her with sweet devotion, through all the various adventures and misfortunes of life ; though he be overwhelmed for a time with sorrow, yet it leaves him resigned and cheerful under the dispensation of Providence, and by divesting the world of half its charms, makes him the more ready to quit it without complaint. The use of such a thing, although not widely acknowledged, is yet sensibly felt by all who are in the circle #of its influence. He pos- sesses tho art to call up sparkling looks, and merry smiles around him; of charming away, although for a moment, the bitterness of pas- CHEERFULNESS. 73 sion, or the darkness of grief; and of leaving an impression of hap- piness, however transient, on hearts which were before corroding with malice, or sinking into despair. The only necessary requisites for a cheerful disposition are such as every man of common intelligence can acquire. To be strictly honest in all our dealings, and benevolent in all our intsntions ; to live between the extremes of labor and repose, and par- take but moderately of the innocent pleasures within our reach; to love and practice truth and honor, to cherish kindness and affection for all our fellow-creatures, and to love God with our whole hearts—which indeed make up the happiness of man—are plain precepts of reason, simple to comprehend, and easy to adopt. All extremes are fatal to peace or health. The man who must be always soaring, or who requires per- petual rest, who runs to revel among the stars, or grovels in the dust; who pants for some wild or intense excitement, or desires to shun all the cares and anxieties which will ruffle the calmest bosom, may per- haps, occasionally realize great joy, or slumber in seeming content, but will not be happy. The first, however brilliant his triumph, or lofty the summit of his fame, will probably soon sink again to the cares of mortality; and when we consider the revolutions of time, and the propensity which human affairs possess, after any uncommon convulsion, to fall back into the general arrangements of things, as water forced up will naturally seek its own level, we may justly con- clude that heroes, statesmen, and lucky adventurers, whose hopes are founded altogether on their transitory success, will enjoy less true cheerfulness than the poorest laborer, who knows himself, loves hi3 God, and strives to perform all his duties as well as he can. As for the hermit, and there are few exceptions, his dream of soli- tary bliss soon fades when put to the test. The heart, uninspired by hope or unagitated by fear, languishes into misery almost insufferable, and all tortures of the rack, or the terrors and anguish of a violent death, are much more easily borne than the solitude even of a few years. I would rather possess a cheerful disposition, inclined always to look on the bright side, than, with a gloomy mind, be master of an estate worth ten thousand a year. Cheerfulness is a spring of power and of pleasure, alike to our phys- ical, our mental, and our moral natures. Cheerfulness, like most other talents and merits, is, to a large extent, the subject of voluntary culture; and the preservation and development of it should be looked upon as a duty which we owe alike to ourselves and to society. Those who, like the generality of men, • 74 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. have been in the custom of yielding up their tempers as vanes to be blown about by the shifting courses of fortune which way they will, would be surprised to know how much one's disposition and mood arc under one's own control; how much the luster of the outward scene may be affected by the light within our bosoms. We may set our spir- its to cheerfulness and keep them so, independently of the conditions of outward circumstances. And this is the true dignity, and happi- ness, and piety of man, to live above the shifting and dashing tides of the world's incidents and humors, to bring our nature into harmoni- ous union with the great permanent typo of human excellence. Cheerfulness quenches blows, it blunts arrows, it rounds the edge of the sharp sword; it secures pure breathing in the foul air, easy digestion, and refreshing slumber. To others it is as the sun to the material world; flashing, life-giving light and warmth, and waited upon by breezes which are the dispensing medium of hope and vigor. Gloom of spirit acts upon the intellectual faculties like a paralysis; the perception is dimmed, the invention is deadened, the judgment is perplexed, the will is unnerved. Who, in such a moment, has not felt, when some unexpected occurrence of good fortune, or the voice of one long absent, or a burst of music, or a gleam of light blazing for a moment over the landscape, has struck as with the prophet's rod the rock of his wounded feelings, and made the waters of sympa- thy once more gush forth; who has not then felt the power of cheer- fulness coursing like an electric fluid from one compass of his being to another, swelling his finite life to the dimensions of that blessed hope which points to that home beyond the grave. How sweetly does it retain its serenity amidst the storms and trials of life, when over- hung and shadowed by sorrow or by peril! How does it cheer even tho infirmities of old age, in the sweet remembrance and pleasant anticipations of meeting again those dear ones, whom we have loved on earth, where we shall be separated no more forever, soothing the declining hours of life, as the sun at evening lines the thickest clouds with her golden beams ! And how does such a spirit as this give evi- dence of faith in Christ, and of delightful trust in the Divine Father, corresponding with all that is sublime in holiness and grand in self devotion, and powerful and uplifting in belief of the truth. How sweet to feel the assurance that after life's day is done, we shall enjoy rest and peace in Heaven. How tranquil and how happy are those who have this sunny spirit, the charming influence of Chris- tianity ? that sweetener of life, that beautiful essence pervading our thoughts, that fruit of gentle submission to the divine wisdom, thai DESPAIR. 75 shadow of God's home, the light emanating from His holy spirit! In Christ Jesus, our blessed Redeemer, through faith in Him and the reception of His spirit, and joyful trust in His redemption, we may all find this cheerful hope. Along with humility, we should cultivate cheerfulness. Humility has no connection with pensive melancholy or timorous dejection. While the truly humble guard against the distraction of violent pas- sions and inordinate cares, they cherish a cheerful disposition of mind. There can not, indeed, be genuine cheerfulness without the approbation of our own heart. While, however, we pay a sacred regard to conscience, it must be enlightened and directed by reason and revelation. And happy are the individuals who can say, "our rejoicing is this, the testimony of our conscience, that, in simplicity and godly sincerity, we have had our conversation in the world." An approving mind will contribute greatly to cheerfulness, and that equa- nimity which results from it, from trust in God, and from the hope of a blessed immortality, is equally remote from sour dissatisfaction, desponding melancholy, and frivolous hilarity. It smoothes our path and sweetens our cup, rendering duty easy and affliction light. If wc are cheerful and contented, all nature smiles with us, the air seems more balmy, the sky more clear, the ground has a brighter green, the trees have a richer foliage, the flowers a more fragrant smell, the birds sing more sweetly, and the sun, moon, and stars all appear most beautiful. Cheerfulness bears the same friendly regard to the mind as to the body ; it banishes all anxious care and discon- tent ; it soothes and composes the passions and keeps them in a per- petual calm. DESPAIR. When man had sinned, and the very elements seemed to sympathise in a lament for his lost innocence; in that hour of dismay, when seraphs forsook, and God himself turned away the light of his countenance; one bright spirit lingered, nor would desert man, in this his extremity, With tender assiduity and many a winning tiken of kindness did she strive to wean man from his sorrow. She prevailed, and by degrees his mind seemed to lighten of the weight which oppressed it, and con- fidence resumed her seat—" The spirit joyed, < Hope' enchanted smiled and waved her golden hair." Since then, her home has been with the children of men; and ever with the same winning care has her syren 76 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. song beguiled their hearts of sorrow, and buoyed up their sinking spirits. / But there are times when she comes not to the distressed. There are hearts pierced which her gentle hands bind not up. ^here is a gloom which her light scatters not, and an anguish which her voice does not soothe, We are in loneliness, and no one is near, we grope in darkness, yet no friendly hand stretches out to save; we feel for something to which we may cling—all is empty; we shout in agony, yet no guiding voice replies—all is still. It is the feeling of despair, its loneliness, its utter solitude. Give to man but the semblance of hope, and phantom though it may be, he will follow its guidance, as eagerly as does the child pursue the painted insect. Give to him but a twig to cling by, and he will climb, aye, though frail the tenure, and the grave beneath. But quench the last spark of hope, and in despair he will fall without a struggle. Let the storm beat ever so fiercely upon the soul, yet, if but a single gleam finds its way to cheer and warm, it will revive; but darkness gathers around, and it sinks to the dust. The feeling of which we speak is an indefinable sensation. We see its effects, and we know that it exists. We have all at times felt its wretchedness, its misery. It is not disappointment; our hopes may have been baffled, but we trust still. One stay may have been withdrawn, yet other means of support buoy up. It is not sorrow; for even it may be blended with some pleasurable emotion which will beguile its sting, or the hand of time may soften and mellow, and it will cease to grieve. But there is a blow, the weight, the pang of despair—its touch weakens the strongest arm, and unnerves the stoutest heart. The wealth which the labor of years has heaped together, may be swept away in an instant; we know that gold is but dross, and that riches are unstable. Pleasures which once delighted may forsake us; wo know that they are all vanity, that a touch may shatter. Fortune may turn her smile to a mockery, or Fame delude with unreal visions; we know that the former is a fickle goddess, and the latter a fanciful vagary, a sound that dies in the breathing. Against all the losses and woes which throng thick upon us, we may bear up with firmness, but another blow follows—the friend in whom we had centered our affections, to whom we had unbosomed every sorrow, and with whom shared every joy; that being whom we had warmed and cherished, turns his viper fang upon us; or when some loved form has entwined it3elf around us, until it has become linked with our being, DESPAIR. 77 death wrenches it away and we feel that we have taken a flower to our bosom only to perish; it is the last drop, and the waters of bitter des- pair overflow. She comes to the heart of the prisoner, as he enters his solitary cell, and the last bolt is drawn ; the sound of the receding foot- steps dies upon his ear, and in sickness of soul he sinks down in utter hopelessness. She is with the wrecked mariner, when the last lone plank which promised friendly support has vanished, and his heart dies within him. Already the sound of waters is in his ear, and he " feels what pain it is to drown." Her wan and haggard form hovers around the couch of the dying when the last remedy has failed, and death's grasp is firm. It speaks in the dim eye, the lip pale and tremulous, and the faint and more faintly throbbing heart. Nor does its spell work upon the weak and timid alone ; the mighty have bowed to it—at its touch, the cheek of courage pales, the arm of strength falls. " Hope withering flies, and mercy sighs farewell." There are dark hours in the history of every human being, periods of despondency and gloom, when life seems without a solitary ray of brightness, and the future is shrouded in mist and melancholy. At such times the spirit is depressed, the soul within is involved in shadows, and it is vain that we turn and turn and endeavor to avoid the ominous thoughts that crowd upon the brain. They force themselves upon us, and all our efforts to shake off this feeling of despair of the moment are idle and fruitless. Phantom shapes flit before the imagination; dismal foreboding, the loss of friends, crowd upon the mind; thoughts obtrude upon us, and a mys- terious feeling passes like a cloud over the spirit; it often comes upon the soul in the busy bustle of life, in the social circle, in the calm and silent retreats of solitude, to remind us of our imprudent conduct. At Dne time it is caused by the flitting of a single thought across the mind. Again, a sound will come booming across the ocean of memory, gloomy and solemn as the death-knell overshadowing all the bright hopes and sunny, feelings of the heart. How many in this world have felt its sting ! How many have cast their love abroad on hearts that did not appreciate their kindness! How many thousands have sought the silent chambers of the dead, and gazed with anguish of soul upon the grave of some dear departed friend whom they have treated unkindly ! Oh, these are thoughts beyond control, which rack the human heart, and swiftly loose the pent-up fountains of an anguished soul, and cause tho fast and bitter tears to fall in deep despair! Despair is the name by which we express the extremity of mora] depression, against which the mind has no power of reaction. Through this dreadful feeling, no ray of hope, no sunbeam of joy, breaks in upon 78 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. the darkness of-the soul. " To one who has reached this state of utter despondency, life is no longer desirable; the charms of nature or of art, call forth no throb of delight in his dark spirit, and the cheerful earth is a gloomy and barren wilderness. I observed once a poor widow as she slowly turned the corner of the street, to stop and wipe away the tears that were fast chasing each other down her feeble check ; and my%eart took an interest in her care- worn face, for her affliction seemed great, though I knew not the cause. I followed her, unnoticed, to her humble habitation. I saw her enter, and heard her bestow a blessing upon three poor, shivering infants, who hailed her return with clamorous joy. She divided among them the scanty portion of food which her day's labor had been able to pro- cure, and I saw her turn away and weep in silent despair that it was so little. I resolved to inquire her history, for she appeared like one who had seen better days. She had entered life with fair prospects, had married early, and had lost her husband whom she tenderly loved ; ho had been unfortunate in his business, and at his death was unable to leave her an adequate support for herself and three children; misfor- tunes had continued* to pursue her; she had talents, but ill-health and poverty prevented her from exercising them. She had industry, but could find little to employ it. She called at the house of the rich, but they " could not afford to employ her," she was too delicate for hard labor, and her feelings were too refined to allow of her being long impor- tunate. She bore her sorrows, her privations, her hardships, and the mortifications attendant on a condition like hers, in silence, until grief settled down into dark and deep despair. The friends of her prosperity had forgotten her in her misfortunes; she had nothing to attach her to life except those desolate infants, for their sake she tried to support her miseries, and to struggle on yet a little longer. The thoughts of leaving them exposed to a world which she had found so pitiless, shook her fortitude and destroyed her mind, and she is now an inmate of the lunatic asylum. How often does the remem- brance of these poor children come to that broken heart, and she cries, " Heavenly Father, who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb, when shall I again see my dear husband and children ?" This is no tale of fiction. There are thousands such in this land of liberty, peace, and plenty ; in this refined and enlightened age, where talents are neglected, industry too frequently discouraged, virtue unnoticed, and pride and riches alone triumphant. How many delicate and sensitive hearts who labor under poverty and sorrow, which patient merit of the unworthy takes, sink into despair. How often do circumstances of adversity throw around the THE INFIDEL. 79 spirit a withering influence ? How often do they draw from us reproaches, and not having a submissive will, discontent plants itself in the breast, excluding every good result that might flow from their mission and object? Many as are the shadows that flit across the horizon of earthly happiness, there does shine a star, there does speak a still small voice to the mourner's heart, to light the gloom and minister comfort. There is a balm for every pain, a haven of rest where the sorrowing heart may find relief; though our lot be cast amid the pure sunshine of an ap- proving conscience, with not a cloud to intercept, and where the path- way of our pilgrimage may constantly be illumined with the rays of righteousness and peace. Desolate indeed must be the heart that has no source of comfort, no rock to rest on amid the storms that beat around it, no firm foundation on which to build its hope of final triumph and de- liverance. The vicissitudes of life, how can they be borne when there is no friend to share the toil and burden; when the tempest gathers, and clouds roll over the soul, where may rest be found in the moments of despair, but in Him who knows every infirmity, who can satisfy tho longing soul and say to the raging waves be still ? There is no afflic- cion but his love can soothe and alleviate, no desire that his grace can not supply, he at last wipes away every tear, and guide the poor afflicted one to that haven of rest, where there shall be joy and biiss for ever- more, where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary arc at rest. THE INFIDEL, It is an awful commentary on the doctrine of infidelity, that its most strenuous supporters have either miserably falsified their senti- ments in the moments of trial, or terminated their existence in obscu- rity and utter wretchedness. The gifted author of the " Age of Reason," passed the last years of his life in a manner which the meanest slave that ever trembled beneath the lash of the task-master, could have no cause to envy. Rousseau, the well-known and enthusi- astic philosopher, was a miserable and disappointed man; in his death all was dark, no pure and beautiful ray of hope illuminated his mind beyond the perishing things of the natural world, or sustained him in the dying hour. He loved the works of God for their exceeding beauty, not for their manifestation of an overruling intelligence. Life had become a burden to him, but his spirit recoiled at the damp- ness and silence of the grave, the cold, unbroken sleep, and the slow wasting away of mortality. He perished, a worshiper of that beauty 80 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. which but faintly shadows forth the unimaginable glory of its Creator. At the- closing hour of day, when the broad west was glowing like the gates of paradise, and the vine hung.hills of his beautiful land were bathed in the rich light of sunset, the philosopher departed. The last glance of his glazing eye, was to him an everlasting farewell to existence; the last homage of a god-like and misspent intellect to holiness and beauty. The blackness of despair was before him; the valley of the shadow of death was to him inescapable, and an eter- nal night; the better land beyond it was shadowed from his vision. 'Oh! death!—dark home to hopeless unbelief! hour, to which, in that creed of despair, no hour shall succeed ! being's last hour! to whose appalling darkness even the shadows of an avenging retribu- tion were brightness and relief! Death! what art thou to the Chris. tian's assurance ? Great hour of answer to life's prayer; great houi that shall break asunder the bond of life's mystery; hour of release from life's burden ; hour of reunion with the loved and lost. What mighty hopes hasten to their fulfillment in thee! What longings, what aspirations, breathe in the still night, beneath the silent stars, what dread emotions of curiosity, what deep meditations of joy, what hal- lowed imaginings of never-experienced purity and bliss, what possi- bilities shadowing forth unspeakable realities to the soul, all verge to their consummation in thee ! Oh death ! the Christian's death! What art thou, but the gate of life, the portal of heaven, the threshold of eternity ! Thanks be to God—let us say it, Christians, in the com- forting words of the Holy Scriptures—" Thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." What hope can be so precious as the hope in him ? What emblems can speak to bereaved affection or to dying frailty, like those emblems at once of suffering and triumph, which proclaim a crucified and risen Lord, vliich pro- claim that Jesus, the forerunner, has passed through death to immor- tal life ? Well, that the great truth should be signalized and sealed upon our hearts in holy rites! that amidst mortal changes, av. d hasten- ing to the tomb we should from time to time set up an altar and say, " By this heaven-ordained token, do we know that we shall live for- ever !" God grant the fulfillment of this great hope. Whtii matter all things beside? God grant the fulfillment of this great hope through Jesus Christ. Creation is full of the wonders of God, view it in any or all of its parts, and we feel wonder-struck at its grandeur and beauty. " The heavens declare the glory of God." 'Tis in the fierce lightning and in the thunder peal, or in their silent grandeur, that we read "the glory of God." "The firmament showeth hia THE INFIDEL 81 handy work." Suspended between heaven and earth by the Creator's mandate: " Let there be a firmament." It forms a gaudy vail, to hide, as it were, from our view, the glories of the unseen world. Who can look upon the stars playfully twinkling in the heavens, or upon the moon, as her mellow light distils around him, unimpressed with a sense of the beautiful! The ocean bears from its heaving bosom and tremen- dous roar a conviction of the awfully grand. And when its water, " calm even as a slumbering babe," sweeps stilly on, silent yet majes- tic, motioned by the peaceful waving of the breeze, or rippled to catch the sparkling rays of the sun and reflect them to our eyes, even fancy is delighted, and leaps in transport at the scene. Earth too, creation's first offspring, beams with objects, in the contemplation of which, a wondrous imagining is excited. In the opening blossom, in the full blown flower, in the fading rose, in the crushed acorn, tho pliant sapling, nodding to the freshening winds, and in the stalwart oak, bidding defiance to the fiercest gales, are painted some of the inscrutable operations of a wonder-working God. Or, who can view unmoved the varied scenery of mountain and glen, forest and grove, decked simultaneously in the fleecy robes/ of winter, and in the green drapery of spring? The universe burns with Deity. All nature seems vocal to declare a great First Cause. The mighty sun, as he pursues his never-ending course, proclaims the greatness of an invis- ible Being. The pale and silvery beams of the sister orb, as she scatters the gloom of night, seem to woo men to acknowledge this great truth. The countless hosts of stars, as they gem the heavens, like diamonds set in the coronet of darkness, all declare that their lamps were lit at the shrine of Divinity. ^ The hoarse voices of the angry billows, in their ceaseless rise and fall, murmur that they evi- dence the fact. The bone and muscle of every beast of the field, the waving of the wing of every bird of the air, the beauty of the small- est insect which floats in the breeze, attest the solemn truth. Every tree, every plant, every flower, alike witness the same fact. Every thing is indelibly stamped with the impress of a Deity. Dr. John D. Godman, an eminent anatomist and naturalist, aged thirty-one, while lecturing in New York, in 1827, visited the death bed of a student of medicine, in whose joyous anticipations of heaven he saw that which philosophy could not comprehend. From this time he studied the scriptures. On his dying bed he said: "Philosophy is a fool, and pride a madman. The man who dies as a man ought to die, is the humble minded Christian." Dr. G. was a distinguished scholar, and his industry was nearly unequaled. It appears to my mind that no 82 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN. arguments in favor of the immortality of the soul can be given which will be of equal force to those which rise up spontaneous in our breasts; nearly every man entertains the belief that death will not be the termination of his existence. Atheistical notions are rarely entertained by uneducated people; those who permit their minds to run in the natural current will most certainly arrive at the convic- tion of the existence of a future state. It is a mistaken idea that education is instrumental in discovering this important truth to tho human mind; none arrive at it more readily and certainly than the simple and uneducated. The Creator has not left a fact so essential to the happiness of mankind as the immortality of the soul, to be acquired or established by the imperfect light of the human under- standing, but he has infused into every man's soul an essence, which if unobstructed by the blinding passions of our nature, will rise up, of its own accord and,proclaim itself immortal. It has often been expressed as a matter of wonder, that men pos- sessed of great talents and learning, have sometimes been known to deny the existence of a future state, and at a superficial view it does indeed appear that men who are capable of reasoning with profound sagacity upon ordinary matters, ought to be the best qualified to scan the mysteries by which our state is environed; but the truth is, these things are equally hidden from all to whom God chose they should not be revealed; and men who are reported wise, when they undertake to discuss matters which they do not understand, argue with all the weak- ness and imbecility of the most finite minds. The immortality of the soul is of so great value, that if we could form any thing like a propei estimate of it, if we could have the long train of our future lives with the one-hundredth part of their brilliancy revealed to us, we would be lost in admiration and in transports; the affairs of this world would dwindle into insignificance, and we might probably be induced to regard them with contempt. This is doubtless a reason why the glories of the future world are withheld from our view. Go, proud infidel! Search the ponderous tomes of heathen learning, explore the works of Confu- cius, examine the precepts of Seneca, and all the writings of Socrates ollcct all the excellencies of the ancients and modern moralists ant point to a sentence equal to the simple prayer of our Saviour. Revilet and insulted, suffering the grossest indignities, crowned with thorns, and led away to die, no annihilating curse breaks from his lips. Sweet and placid as the aspiring of a mother for her nursling, ascends a prayer of mercy for his enemies; " Father, forgive them!" Oh, it was worthy of its origin and stamped with the bright seal of the truth, that hhj THE INFIDEL. 83 mission was from heaven! Infidels, and indeed ail scoffers at that divine religion which proclaims peace on earth, and good will to men, are sometimes made to feel, in the very depths of their own wicked and depraved hearts, the impotence and folly of the cold, cheerless systems they advocate. A few days since I went to the house of a neighbor, where a young and beautiful girl, some ten summers old, was lying at the point of death, having wasted away before the fatal ravages of disease, like the sweet flower nipped by the frosts of spring. The dear girl's mother, who was one of earth's ministering spirits, had several years before been gathered to the great congregation of the dead, and her father, a zealous disci- ple of Thomas Paine, by a long course of infidel reading, had become an open and avowed sceptic. The last vestige of Christianity had died away within his soul. I entered the apartment where lay the little suf- ferer, with noiseless tread, and without being noticed. The father, who began to realize the certain fate of his only child, was seated on the bed, with his back toward the door, and the delicate arms of his lovely little daughter were thrown affectionately around his neek, while the tears were chasing each other down his cheeks, in rapid succession, at the painful withering of the tender bud before him. The little girl, with a face beaming with intelligence and anxiety, looked full in her father's eyes and said, " Tell me, my dear father, where shall I go when, in a few short hours, this little body of mine is cold in death ? Shall I be with my own dear mother in the bright world of spirits, or shall I sleep forever in the cold ground, beneath ftie branches of yonder aged oak, that stands in the graveyard? Mother, when she rocked me on her knee, often told me there is a God, and a heaven, where the spirits of just men made perfect shall praise him for ever and ever. Oh, do tell me, is it so?" The voice of the little girl failed, and she sank down exhausted upon her couch. The stout-hearted infidel, who had often. resisted the arguments of the most eloquent divines, was thunder-struck, the iron had entered his soul, these astounding and pathetic questions were urged home to his understanding at a moment when he least ex- pected it, and when his heart was soft with affection, and needed but a trifling thing to pierce it to the quick. His tears fell faster, for he now saw that soon the last tie that bound him to earth, was about to be sun- dered. For a moment he thought of the dear Christian wife ? his younger days, and of her tranquil and happy departure to the unseen world. There was a deep struggle in his bosom, and finally his feelings completely overpowered him. As with the converted soul, the light of Christianity flashed in upon his darkened reason. He fell upon his 84 GUNN'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN knees at the bedside, and his tongue, unused to supplicating tones, broke loose in earnest prayer to Almighty God, for the pardon of his own sins, and the reception of his daughter's spirit, into the peaceful kingdom of heaven. It was the most touching petition I ever heard. The infi- del rose from his knees in a spirit of holy resignation ; but the soul of the child had winged its way to the eternal world. He is now an altered man. He has embraced the glorious doctrines of the Christian religion, and humbly trusts to meet his wife and child in heaven. Some years ago, an individual, well known and highly respected in the religious world, narrated in my hearing the following incident: In early life, along with a college companion he was making a tour on the eontinent, and at Paris his friend was seized with alarming illness. A physician of great celebrity was speedily summoned, who stated that the case was a critical one, and that much would depend upon a minute attention to his directions. As there was no one at hand upon whom they could place much reliance, he was requested to recommend some confidential and experienced nurse. He mentioned one, but added, " You may think yourself happy indeed, should you be able to secure her services; for she is very much in request among the higher circles here, and there is little chance of finding her disengaged." The nar- rator at once ordered his carriage, went to her residence, and much to his satisfaction found her at home. He briefly stated his errand, and requested her immediate attendance. " But before I consent to accom- pany you, permit me, sir," said she, " to ask you a single question: is your friend a Christian ?" "Yes," he replied,<; indeed he is—a Chris- tian in the best and highest sense of the term; a man who lives in the fear of God. But I should like to know your reason for such an inquiry?" " Sir," she answered, "I was the nurse that attended Vol- taire in his last illness, and for all the wealth of Europe, I would never see another infidel die." This miserable and wretched creature, once the companion of the most distinguished men, was deserted by every friend, and the miseries he endured in the horrors of death are beyond description. Such has been the fate of every infidel. Tom Paine, who once was the compan ion of Washington, Jay, and Hamilton, was deserted by every good man, and all who had any regard for decency crossed the street t