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"Wo to these halls of pride! no more shall they resound
With melody or song, or music's gentle sound;
Here sighs and groans shall echo, and slavish footsteps fall,
Till burst the bolts of Fate, and ruin buries all.

"Wo to these blooming gardens! in the soft light of May,
Behold this pallid face from which the life has passed away;
Ye blossoms wither at the sight, ye streams forsake your flow,
Give place to barren wastes where desert weeds may grow.
"Wo, murderer to thee! Curse of the Minstrel name !
Vain be thy strivings after the bloody wreath of fame ;
Breathed like a dying breath into the empty air,

Thy name be lost in silence, the night of death to share."

The old man's voice is silent, the Heavens have heard his cry;
Long since a heap of ruins the lofty turrets lie;

One shattered column stands alone the fatal tide to breast,
Soon tottering to its fall, to moulder with the rest.

Where once the gardens smiled a dreary desert lies,

No tree with grateful shadows, no sparkling fountains rise,
No Legend tells the monarch's name, his fame no lofty verse,
Forsaken and Forgotten,-this was the Minstrel's Curse!

A LETTER OF A VALETUDINARIAN.

You have not heard from me for some time, my dear Augustus, but if you could only see me now, you would stand in need of no further explanation.

Here am I, volatile, light-hearted, mercurial I, propped up in an easy chair with seven pillows, more or less; my left arm in a sling, my right leg bandaged down to the very toes, both knees swollen beyond the privilege of knees, and altogether such a sad sight, that Mark Tapley would die of envy of such a glorious opportunity of coming out strong.

And yet, Augustus, I can assure you that this is a change for the better! Yes, for months have I been on my back unable to turn without pain; and my hands so weak that they could not hold anything heavier than a newspaper. On such poor mental diet have I fed! Such dilution! Imagine a man in health condemned to whips, syllabubs, and such like nihilities; (as I once heard a regular" physician style the homopathic doses;) or to derive his only sustenance from those light relishes, excellent indeed as provocatives to the appetite, but miserable substitutes for strong meat. Now that I can have my books, I find my self unequal to the labor of reading.

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My wife, you remember, do you not?

my telling you that I did not wish to marry a rival, nor a fellow-student, but a wife; and the most devoted of wives, and the best of nurses has she proved herself. But sometimes when I feel morbidly anxious to deliver a joke, or quaint conceit, I certainly cannot help wishing she was somewhat more congenial, more fond of a joke, more tolerant of a pun, and a little more charitably disposed towards a doubleentendre. If her charity, which we know in perfection never faileth, ever gives way, it is when she hears her husband exulting in such "trifies light as air," instead of devoting the powers of his mind, as she is graciously pleased to style my humble abilities, to works which the world will not willingly let die: thus practically forgetting, that there are diversities of gifts; and that it is not given to many to be great;-30 I strive to be useful, scorning

low ambition and the pride of kings.' It is one of my consolements to bring to mind all the cases recorded in history, parallel to mine. From no instance do I derive more comfort than from the one of Sir Thomas More, (of "Utopia,") and his spouse,-" More and Less," as they may well be styled.

She, who by right of matrimony, ought

to be the chief depository of my "woes unnumbered," is really and truly non compos. In such a case one's physician should act as a safety valve. Alas! my Doctor is a matter-of-fact practical man; one who never quibbled in his life; doesn't know a pun when he hears it ;-and can't comprehend how any man of sense can take delight in such inutilities.

I was noted at college for my exuberant spirits, which ever seemed to rise as others were depressed. It is even the same now. When I am lain on my back in pain and helplessness, I get perfectly rampant, and ratile away as if my life depended on the number of puns I could make in a given time. 'Tis a propensity that grieves my spouse and astonishes my Doctor. As they do not listen to me, you must. I know you are charitably disposed, for did you not repeat at our school-exhibition, a dozen years ago: "Pity the sorrows of a poor old man ?"

The first day I was taken sick was, as ill-luck would have it, white-washing day, and I was obliged to go to bed in the attic, and foolishly and uselessly endeavored to console my wife, by telling her 'twas all right, as I had a rheumatic affection. The Doctor was sent for, and in due time he came. I told him I was uneasy, and, showing him my poor knees, assured him I felt like a Pawnee. He ordered blisters for my knees, leeches for the back of my neck, and perfect quiet and rest. I resist ed-not the leeches, nor yet the blisters; (though by keeping my legs doubled up in one position for so many hours, they have given me a crookedness that I shall not soon get over;) but the quietness I could not stand; and if I were not allowed to see all my visitors, I would keep up a tremendous racket; my lungs being, as I assured him, in a fine state of preservation. I have not told you of the salutation I gave him as he entered. "This is a retired situation, Doctor, as the monkey said when he was on the house-top ;" not too secluded either, as a brickbat grazed him. He had never read Pickwick, and could only

stare.

It was my delight to plague him in every possible way, though I have since found to my horror, he thought I was delirious. More than half the blood taken from me was for the purpose of reducing me to a state of sanity. The best thing, for the joke's sake was, that one day feeling very weak and good for nothing, and too drowsy to think of joking, I begged him to give me something to drink which would be soothing and pleasant here," said I, putting my hand to my throat, which was very sore, without doing me any injury here, sliding my hand down over my stomach. He left the room without giving me an answer, and soon after

wards I heard his carriage drive off. In a few minutes my wife came in and informed me the Doctor had ordered seven cups! I submitted, for "sufference is the badge of all our tribe;" but imagine my chagrin when told, the other day, that my most innocent speech about the drink had superinduced the cups! He was sure I was light-headed! Truly, I may be thankful that I have an ounce of blood left in my veins.

One day, after the rest of the family had gone to church, my wife, as was her custom, brought me her books to read to me. It was a very warm day, and the windows being open, I, had been listening to the chiming of the multitude of bells in our good town; and as they gradually died away, one after the other, my attention became feebler and feebler, till at last, when my wife came, I was in a hazy, halfdreaming state. The better way would have been frankly to tell my spouse I felt like taking a nap; but an overstrained consideration kept me quiet. My wife has that excellent thing, a voice " soft, gentle, and low," and before long, her soothing tones lulled me into a balmy sleep. All at once, I burst into a fit of uncontrolled laughter. My spouse, frightened out of her senses, closed the book. And what do you think was the cause of such rudeness? Why, she was reading me a sermon on the duty of keeping a clear conscience; and as I dropped into a dose, I thought I was bargaining with a man for the purchase of his farm, and that he was praising it, by assuring me over and over again that it was void of a fence. A pause my wife made caused me to wake, and the perfect and absurd contrast between my dream and the sermon was too much for me. Never did I regret anything half so much, for I really pained my wife, and it was some time before she could get over it and read to me, as formerly. With compunctious visitings I observed that, after that day she always chose sermons whose texts were not at all susceptible of being punned upon. A quiet rebuke, and one, I must say, entirely undeserved, the above unlucky accident excepted."

My Doctor would have your sympathy, Augustus, in his etymological pursuits. He is an inveterate root-hunter, so I tried my best to worry him.

"Doctor," said I, "you etymologists always put me in mind of one of my friends, who, being troubled with the asthma, studied his own case, and finding that stramonium was an excellent medicine in such cases made and provided, sent out to England for it, never dreaming that the poor Jamestown weed that grows in every fence-corner, was the invaluable herb. Well, just so you learned folks always go to the Greek, Latin, Sanscrit, or

Saxon, when the Greeks are at your door, as John Randolph told the lady who was letting her own children and servants go in rags, while she was providing for the wants of those whom Providence had not placed under her care.

"Ha, ha! I can't but laugh now when I bring to mind what ugly faces he would make; for, when fixing my blistered knees, he couldn't leave the room, as is his wont, when I begin to plague him. Alas, for the infirmity of human nature! I really believe, Augustus, my jokes cost me a hundred ounces of blood. I doubt if I should have survived, had not the Doctor happily sprained his ancle, and was obliged to send a nephew of his to take his place.

A glorious fellow this young Doctor is! He knows everybody, and everything; every joke that was ever made, and every epigram that was ever written. How he came of the same stock as his uncle is to me a mystery. He won my heart by telling me, the first thing after feeling my pulse, that he intended prescribing a blister for the back of my old-fashioned clock, for he was confident it had the tic-doloreaux, and that his carpenter had just consulted him about sending his son to the west, and he advised him to dispatch the youth to the Chippeways. I raised myself in bed, and shook him by the hand most cordially; for I honor a man who has the courage to pun, Dr. Johnson's sarcasms to the contrary, notwithstanding.

Under his care I keep my blood within my veins, and feel myself stronger every day, somewhat to the surprise of my wife, who at first thought the new Doctor more crazy than his patient.

So far had I written, when, being tired or interrupted, I laid aside my pen, and now resume it, after the lapse of many months. It happened in this wise:

That day, as the family were at dinner, the smell of beefsteak came up to me; and I was so much better, and felt such a longing to have and to enjoy a piece of steak, assuring myself that it would aid me vastly in my recovery, that I whistled softly on my ivory call, in hopes the sound thereof would reach the waiter's ears, and his only. It did so, and in a few moments my trusty boy was with me! With some difficulty I persuaded him to cut me off a nice rare piece, aud bring it up to me clandestinely. He was successful, and my enjoyment was exquisite. But the afterpiece! Such a farce as I had that night! Raging hot the blood coursed through my veins like molten quicksilver. My wife was in despair. As I kept quiet she could not divine the cause; for, most assuredly, she would not have let my accessory stand upon the order of his going, but sent him

off at once. When the Doctor came, I revealed all to him, with the injunction that he was to give it an understanding but no tongue. What a relapse I had! And only think, that wicked young Doctor was pleased to say he was not at all surprised at my course, as I must have known that my life was at stake.

How much vinum colchici I swallowed, and quinine, and various other mixtures and commixtures, 'twere vain to tell. And as for solutions! my old Doctor was great in this line. All difficulties he solved by solutions. I had to tell him I supposed he was keeping one great one to end off with, viz.: dissolution. Hew me! as the old oak said to the wood-cutter. Such frictious to get my obstinate joints to the proper degree of genuflection! Such absurd "exhibitions," (physicians often "exhibit" themselves,) of stramonium, and belladonna, and croton-oil, and last of all, for worst of all, was strychnia. Oh active principle of nux vomica, potent art thou and dreadful! Let me tell you, Augustus, how I took it. Once taken, like the whoopingcough, I can never take it again.

It was made up in pills, one grain in a dozen. I was to take three pills, that is, one-fourth of a grain each day. But my wife, seeing how very small the dose was, felt a little uneasy, and only gave me two pills the first day. Not finding, however, any bad effects from them, she gave me two by dinner-time the second day, intending to give me the third at night. After dinner she went out to pay a visit: I told her not to hurry home, for I was doing very well, and had an interesting book to read.

She had not been gone long before a sense of loneliness,-utter, dreary loneliness, crept over me. Such a feeling I never had before but once, of which, I will tell you by and bye, if you will pardon the digression. My book lost all its interest for me, and I wondered how it was that my wife, usually so considerate, could go out and stay so long when I was all alone. Was it not a breach of her marriage vow? Was I not in sickness? Had she not promised to cleave unto me, forsaking all others ?-Unto me, "who had ever treated her so kindly." Perhaps she was gone off, never to return! Shameful! I would apply for a divorce. Yes, I would write instantly to my lawyer, beseeching him to come to me at once on urgent business. The note was written and despatched. I busied myself till the waiter returned, summing up my manifold injuries. Mr. Attorney sent me word he was very busy that afternoon, and would call the next morning. Oh rascally conduct! A verbal answer to my note! What atrocity! Yes, I would dismiss him immediately, and employ some one else, who would pay due

respect to my wishes, and proper deference to my feelings.

I now forgot my wife, and dwelt only on the insult my lawyer had given me the ingrate! But could there be found one of the profession who was honest, learned, and yet gentleman-like? No, I was sure there could not. If one is honest he could not be learned. If he is courteous he intends cheating you.

Just then I wanted a pin. I was seated in my arm-chair, in whose well-stuffed arms I was in the habit of keeping two pins, one on either side. I felt for them, but they were gone. Yes, gone! Some one had robbed me! Had taken my pins from pure love of sin, (for who would steal a pin!) or on purpose to vex and worry me! Not that I was vexed or worriedoh no-not at all-nobody could possibly be cooler; but it was my duty, as I was the head of the family, to find out who it was that would steal pins! Yes, my duty, for until some one was convicted of the theft, all must rest under the foul suspision! I summoned all the household. The cook and chamber-maid appeared, much wonder depicted on their countenances. But where was the waiter? Neither of them knew. He had absconded, that was plain enough. A guilty conscience, to be sure. I asked the women if they had seen my pins? They said they had not, and both of them, with female dexterity, of fered me half a dozen. But no-I did not want their pins, or any pins; but some one, that Jack,-it was without doubt he, -had stolen the two pins that was in my chair! The women could not help laughing. I ordered them to leave the room, determining that as soon as my wife returned, I would request her to give them their warning.

All this time not an idea of my absurdity crossed me. After a while Jack entered. "Where have you been?" said I, very sternly. "Been over to the pump, sir, for some water."

This disconcerted me, but I thought I would be very cunning, and catch him.

"Jack, I can't find my pins. They were here in the chair yesterday, but somebody has taken them away."

Jack said he had seen them there in the morning, and coming up to me, he ran his hand over the arms. "Here is one, sir,

and here's the other."

Yes, there they were, not exactly on the top, but on the side where I had not felt for them. My indignation was excited against the person, or persons, who, to plague me, had removed the pins from their own proper place.

It was now dusk, and my wife, with a refinement in malice I had not suspected her of, had not yet returned. Soon, however, I heard her well-known footsteps on

VOL. XIX.-NO. XCVII.

5

the pavement, but now they gave me no pleasure. I was sitting in the front drawing-rooms, and the windows being up I could hear her in brisk and lively conver sation, on the steps, with a neighbor, about the measles. This was too aggravating; after treating me so shabbily all the afternoon, to add to it by stopping to gossip about measles! She, too, who had never a chick nor a child to catch them! Well, I would show her, when she came in, that I was not to be neglected with impunity. I blew fiercely on my ivory call. Jack obeyed the summons. Bring me a candle."

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"Oh no, dear," said my spouse, entering the room, "hadn't you better wait till tea is ready? Besides, I want to talk with you."

This was the last straw that breaks the camel's back; or rather, the last drop which causes the cup to overflow. I burst into tears-and cried like a child. My wife flew to me, and with admirable decision ordered Jack to send up a bottle of soda that was on the ice, while he ran off for the Doctor. At first I faintly pushed her away from me; but as I wept, my indignation, arising from the sense I had of my unjust and cruel treatment, seemed to melt away. The soda was cool, and pungent and soothing. I was so ashamed of myself that I could scarcely lift up my head, and only desired that I might be put to bed as soon as possible. My wife insis ted that the pills had done all the mischief, and when the Doctor came she made him a present of the whole box.

One-third of a grain of strychnia in thirty hours, to have such an effect on one so little inclined to be nervous as I am! "I forgive thee, strychnia-but never more be medicine of mine."

By the bye, I once read through two volumes of Materia-Medica. 'Twas very interesting, I assure you; though very little of it remains with me now, except one thing that gave me much amusement. It was the recital of the circumstance from which antimony takes its name. A monk observing that the cattle of a certain pasture improved daily in condition, watched them to find out the cause. They were in the habit of licking pieces of mineral they found on the surface of the ground. Surmising that it must be good also for man, he collected some portions of the mineral and put them into the soup of his brethren. Naturally enough, they did not survive the experiment. Hence you see anti-moine. I have often pictured to myself a result so widely different from his reasonable expectations.

Revenous. I am fortunate enough to continue under the new regime; the old Doctor entrusting me to his nephew, whom cheerfulness and never-varying good hu

mor contribute a great deal, I cannot doubt, to my well-being. He is never at a loss, and can interest my wife as well as myself, so that she now alleges that he does himself great injustice by his frivolty, as she terms his heart-gayety, for no one, on first acquaintance, would suppose he had so much sense. Ah, my young Doctor understands the weaknesses of human na

ture.

And how am I now? Judge for your self. I eat well; sleep well; read well; write well; and walk -on crutches.Yes, I stump about the streets, the wonder of the children, a gazing-stock to the servants, and a subject of commiseration to the whole community. You know, Augustus, that I have a good deal of sangfroid, and that I can stand being stared at; and, gracious knows, I have to submit to a plenty of it. That, however, is easy enough, compared to the cross-questioning I undergo from "old women of both sexes," (Boz said that, I think,) always concluding on their part with an infallible remedy, "that can't do you any harm, even if it does you to good!" This is, of course, oftener said with regard to ointments and other outward applications; as if, poor simple souls, the skin had no pores to take into the system substances" exhibited."

It's no use telling them you are not in pain; you have no rheumatism now; or, that anchylosis has taken place, the bony parts having usurped the crown of the knee-aud your leg can't be straightened. "Just try it, honey; set down before a hot fire, and be well rubbed down with goose-grease, to be sure." Don't laugh, for its a true bill, and the old Irish woman that told me, followed me two squares and a-half, recounting the many cases it had cured, to her certain knowledge. I should have lost my temper had she offered any goose-grease" for sale. But no-it was pure Howard benevolence, genuine Mrs. Fry philanthropy.

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You will smile when I tell you I tried one of these infallible remedies. Submission to the very urgent entreaties of my kind friend was easier than resistance. She had tried the remedy on the contracted leg of one of her boys, and not only, dear Augustus, had it the effect of lengthening the limb, but also of making it longer than the other! There was a cure for you! So a number of innocent worms were forthwith disinterred from their earthly home, placed in a tin-cup and covered with lard. The cup was put before a slow fire, until the worms had entirely disappeared, and then the unguent was ready for use! The philosophy of the thing is evident

enough, for you know what wonderful stretchers these worms are. Nimporte-I was no better.

What would you think of ointments made of the marrow extracted from the bones of a sorrel-horse, or the fat of a black-cat?

The last thing I tried was a medicine suggested by my young Doctor. He has a friend, who, with himself, is a great admirer of the Parisian Louis, and Chomel, and Andral. This friend thinks phosphate of ammonia almost a specific for acute rheumatism, and my physician, Dr. Frank, wished me to give it a trial, without, however, entertaining very sanguine hopes of its having any effect in such a long-standing chronic case as mine.

The medicine I judge to be an expensive one, for whenever the bottle is empty, some such conversation as the following is sure to take place between my wife, who bears the purse, and myself.

"My dear, as for this ammonia”—a moan here-" what do the doctors say it absorbs ?"

"The excess of soda in the blood,* I believe," I answered.

"I can't tell how that is; I know that it absorbs not merely the excess of silver in my purse, but all the silver. If it does you no good, this ammonia"-a moan here again, and a deep sigh, "I shall wish Dr. Frank had not mentioned it."

It is high time I should introduce my wife's niece. She is with us on a visit of a few days. An especial favorite of mine is Miss Laura, being clever beyond her years. Her wit-encounters with Dr. Frank amuse me greatly, though her aunt declares we are doing our best to spoil her.

It was but last night my wife was reading something to me, which was rather dull, and I exclaimed, in weariness of soul, when she stopped: "Oh most lame and impotent!"

Just like yourself," cried Miss Laura, “lame and impudent."

When Dr. Frank came in he proposed to sound her heart, as he was an auscultator. "Auscultate, a tête-à-tête, a what?" was her answer.

"Ready for either," he replied; "I shall not hesitate."

"Oh, but a tête-à-tête would militate against your professional pretensions."

"I yield, Miss Laura, for I see you have been singing Tate and Brady's Psalms, or reading Tait's Magazine."

She was silent for a short time, and then said: "Do you not think very highly of Louis, Doctor?"

"Indeed I do, Miss Laura."

*This is not expressed accurately enough for medical men. I must refer them to Hays' Medical Journal for January, for an article by Dr. Thomas Buckler, on the use of Phosphate of Ammonia in Acute Rheumatism.

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