Here he remained several months.

The peculiar treatment he received at this inst.i.tution consisted, first, in a plain and unstimulating diet. Water was his only drink, and bread and fruits, with a few well-cooked vegetables, his only food. But, in the second place, he was subjected to a course of treatment not unlike that described in Chapter LXXIX, with the exception of the deep breathing and cold-bathing. The last, however, was, I believe, used occasionally.

There was, indeed, one important addition made to the treatment above alluded to. This consisted in an exercise designed to expand and strengthen the lungs, by what was called _shaking down the air_. This exercise was practised very frequently, and was curious. I will describe it as well as I can.

He was first required to inflate his chest as much as possible, and then, while retaining the air with all his might, rise on his toes, and suddenly drop on his heels, with a sort of jerk, several times in succession, till he could hold his breath and retain the air no longer, which was now suffered gradually to escape. A new recruit was then drawn in, and treated in the same manner. The exercise, as a whole, seemed to consist of a series of jumpings up and down, without quite raising the toes from the floor, and of deep sighing. The object aimed at was to shake down a large amount of good, pure air, into the cells of the lungs, and retain it there as long as possible; and then, to let out or force out the air, so as to empty the lungs as perfectly as possible.

The warm bath was occasionally used at four o'clock in the afternoon, but with doubtful effect. Exercise, especially mechanical exercise, was of much more service, and so was the gymnasium. He was, however, required to forbear all violence, in his exercises and amus.e.m.e.nts; nor was he allowed any severe studies. His reading was to be light, though not trifling.

For several months next subsequent to his arrival at the inst.i.tution, he appeared to improve. Instead of weekly, or semi-weekly, or still more frequent attacks, he suffered but rarely; and, in one instance, he was exempt from an attack for several weeks. But in December and January they became, once more, rather frequent. They had, however, usually been most frequent in winter and spring.

He now began to be apprehensive of a return of his disease, in all its former violence; and the dread of February, March, and April had an influence on his system which was any thing but favorable--since fear, in these cases, is often worse than the evils which excite it. And, according to his faith, or rather according to his want of faith, so it was with him. The attacks became very frequent, sometimes daily; and, in one or two instances, twice a day.

He came under my special and almost exclusive care, Feb. 1, 1854. I soon discovered that there was a close connection between excess and irregularity, in regard to his food and his paroxysms of disease. I saw, also, that a part of his food had been too stimulating. In justice, however, I ought to say that in the government of the other appet.i.tes, he had succeeded far better than I had expected, though his power to control himself was far from being perfect.

While, therefore, I did not materially change the general treatment in other particulars, I determined to regulate his diet; and, with a view to this important end, to watch him, and even to deal out to him his daily rations, with just as much care and particularity as if he were a mere child. He ate but two meals a day, and these were taken at _twelve_ and _six_; and then I always sat by him. I did not leave him, except for one single meal, for a period of fifty-five days.

During the whole of this long period--long, I mean, to the patient--he not only had no attacks of his disease, but none of the giddiness or other symptoms which had formerly accompanied or preceded them. He did not, it is true, gain in flesh or strength during the time. In all this and in many more particulars he remained nearly stationary.

Towards the close of March, his friends became desirous of taking him home. I was not without apprehension; but, hoping for the best, I submitted to their wishes as cheerfully as I could. He was among them for a short time; and was then, by my particular request, as well as in conformity with his own choice, placed on a farm.

Nearly three months after his return to his friends, I received a letter from him, which I insert here, not only as a convenient nucleus around which to cl.u.s.ter certain suggestions I wish to make to the general reader, but also as a continuation of my patient's history. It was dated June 18, 1854.

"MY DEAR PHYSICIAN,--I am now at Mr. ----'s. Every thing seems to be in perfect accordance with the wishes of those who are concerned in the case. I can get as plain a diet as I please, and have nothing, so to say, to tempt me. I confine myself to a very small variety. I have had strawberries ever since I came here, which was June 7th. I eat sometimes nearly a pint at a meal. Sometimes I eat nothing but strawberries and dry bread. I have some sugar on the table, and sweeten the berries a little. I eat considerable potatoe--say two or three at dinner--sometimes a little more. I have had two dinners of asparagus, just boiled in a little water, and poured on to some crusts of toasted bread. It was good. I do not think I have had more than three things set on the table for me, at a time, while I have been here. I have bread, potatoes, and berries for dinner. For supper I have bread and berries, and sweetened bread, as it might be called. It is sweetened but a very little. Now don't I live plainly.

"But I have left out some things that I have had. I had Graham mush a few days, but I like the bread better, as Mrs.

---- makes such good bread. Mr. ---- likes it better than superfine. I have had boiled rice--a few meals. I had one meal of bag-pudding--Indian--with a few whortleberries in it.

"I have now given you an account of how I live. I eat at ten or half-past ten, A. M., and at four, P. M. So I do not have to go to bed with a meal of victuals on my stomach.

"After I left you, and before I came here, I had, all the time, a great looseness of the bowels. It seemed to weaken me. Afterwards I thought it was caused, partly, by some very tart, dried apples, of which I ate freely at every meal.

Aunt ----thought it was working at hoeing up turf around trees, for she said that working hard with her arms affected her in that way. My stomach did not seem quite right.

Perhaps I strained it in coming home. The very next day after I came here, I commenced eating the ripe strawberries at meals, and have eaten them freely ever since. I sometimes eat nearly a pint at a meal. From the first they have seemed just the thing for me. They regulated my stomach and bowels, and they have strengthened them ever since.

"I eat alone, and enjoy it capitally. I would not go back to the Inst.i.tution (the Hygiene establishment) for a great deal, because there are so many things there to hara.s.s one's mind, or tempt him, at every corner of the street and almost every shop. Since I came here I have not tasted of any thing between meals, and have had no inclination to do so. I think there will be no trouble on that account.

"I am busy out of doors a good deal of the time. I have hoed corn, piled cord-wood, driven team, picked strawberries, etc. At night I milk one cow. I go barefooted three or four hours in the middle of the day, use no flannels, dress very thin,--as little as I can get along with.

"Do you wish me to learn to swim, if possible? There is a pond--a natural one--about a mile from this place. Will you not answer me soon, and give me your opinion on this and other subjects?

"In love, yours, etc.

"SAMUEL."

About a month later, viz., July 18, he wrote thus:

"MY DEAR DOCTOR:--Five months and a half without a symptom!

I have not the slightest feeling to remind me of my old attacks. Should I not be thankful?

"A short time since, I had a very sore stomach. It got out of order, I think, in consequence of eating too much. I broke off, went a day without nothing to eat; eat less now, and feel well. When Mrs. ---- was here, she told me she thought I might eat all I craved. I did so, and suffered the consequences, though I cured myself.

"There is a place here in the woods where raspberries are so thick that people get six quarts at a time. Apples are nearly ripe. Pears will soon succeed them.

"Yours truly,

"SAMUEL."

Two weeks later than the above,--a little more than six months after the discontinuance of the epileptic attacks,--I received a letter from Samuel's guardian, in which he wrote as follows:

"We have continued the same course of diet as at your house; in short, have carried out your views perfectly as possible.

Notwithstanding all this, he (Samuel) has lost flesh and strength; and, for the last few weeks, has fallen off greatly, in mental and physical vigor. He has run down in flesh to eighty pounds, is pale as this paper, coughs considerably, especially at night, yet does not expectorate very much. He had a spell of spitting blood, some five or six weeks ago, raised perhaps a gill. I do not think that it debilitated him very much at the time."

Not far from this time Samuel was taken from the farm, and subjected to various changes in his habits, which were unauthorized, and which probably proved injurious. He took a large amount of cream,--an article which had not before been allowed him,--also a little fresh meat at his dinners. Instead of going without his breakfast, as before, he now appears to have taken breakfast; and in some instances, at least, to have used not only large quant.i.ties of cream at this early hour, but animal food likewise. There was a strong and increasing belief among his friends, that his food was not sufficiently nutritious, and that he was suffering for want of materials for blood; whereas the error lay in the other direction. His stomach and other digestive organs were overloaded and depressed by the large amount of nutriment he had for some time received. But more on this hereafter.

He now appeared to be falling into what is called a galloping consumption, of which he died a few weeks afterward. There should have been a post mortem examination; but, from various causes, it was not attended to. At the time of his death he was about eighteen years of age.

The treatment of this young man on the farm, was by no means what had been intended. The experiment of having him eat alone was hazardous, and I sternly protested against it. But the hours at which he chose to take his two meals, especially the first, were such as to preclude, practically, a better arrangement. There was no one that wished to eat at ten in the forenoon, but himself; and it was not customary for the family to convene for eating in the afternoon, till six. Now, although, abstractly considered, he selected the best hours for his meals, yet, taking society as it is, and human nature as _his_ was, it would have been much better, in the result, had he eaten with the family at twelve and six. He would have eaten less, and yet would probably have been better nourished and better satisfied.

No housekeeper who has the usual feelings of a housekeeper, will be content to set before a young man of seventeen or eighteen years of age, no more, for example, than one-sixth as much food as she would prepare for six such persons. It would seem to her almost like prisoner's fare.

And then, few young men or old ones will content themselves with one sixth as much food when sitting alone, entirely unrestrained, as when in company, where pride or self-respect would have influence. And of one thing we may, at least, be sure, viz., that Samuel, with his almost illimitable appet.i.te, tempted by abundance and a.s.sured that he might, with safety, eat as much as that appet.i.te craved, would never be the individual to stop short of fifty per cent more of carbon than his feeble machinery could appropriate; while every ounce of the surplus was burned up by his lungs, at an expense of that vital energy which should have been husbanded with the greatest care, and expended no faster than was indispensably necessary.

His friends, no doubt, supposed--for such views greatly prevail--that he would not be likely to hurt himself on plain and simple food; and, in truth, that it was so light and unsubstantial that he needed a large amount of it to keep him alive.

One or two individuals, largely interested in him, gave this as their opinion, more than once, and vainly believe, to the present day, that he ran down and died for want of proper nourishment. Whereas, we need nothing more than Samuel's own confessions, to show us, as clearly as the sunlight could possibly show us any thing, that it is much more likely that he perished from excess of nutrition than for the want of it.

Let us look a little at particulars. It appears, most clearly, that Samuel always had before him a good supply of bread, of such excellent quality that he could make a full and agreeable meal of it. While under my special care, he could eat and enjoy a full meal of the driest bread; and he would even have proceeded beyond the limits of safety on it, had I permitted it, and this, too, without berries, sugar, or cream, to make it still more inviting, or without his "sweetened bread," as he called it, for a dessert. It is, moreover, by no means probable, that the morbid keenness of his appet.i.te was at all diminished by being on a farm and in the open air much of the time.

Observe, now, his living. Fruit, he says, he allowed himself always, at both dinner and supper, sometimes a pint at a meal. Dried apple-sauce, very "tart," as he called it, he appears to have had at every meal.

Sugar, moreover, to sweeten his berries, etc., he always had on the table. Will one who has such an appet.i.te as he had, eat moderately, with fruit, sugar, and apple-sauce always before him,--and these regarded as a dessert, of which he may eat _ad libitum_, after having eaten a full and more than a full meal of bread? In potatoes, too, he indulged, as you will see by referring to his letter, in rather large quant.i.ty.

Now the most healthy person in the world, would ere long have an acid stomach, as well as weakened lungs, who should undertake to live in this way; how much more a person who has long been feeble, especially in his lungs, nervous system, and even his digestive system, for that was active rather than strong.

Indeed, there are many circ.u.mstances which favor the belief that he burned himself out by excess of stimulus, or, in chemical language, by excess of carbon. His thoughts seem to have been very largely on eating.

It will be seen by the extracts I have made from his letters, that after speaking on any other needful topic, he would soon get back to the subject of eating. Observe, too, he says he feels no temptation to eat between his meals; but why? First, doubtless, because he eat to the full at his regular meals; and secondly, because the food was mostly, if not always, set away out of his reach.

Another thing deserves consideration. Not only was he, but his friends also, inclined to the opinion that he would not, and perhaps could not, hurt himself on such things as plain dry bread; but they also appeared to believe, _practically_, at least,--and the belief is very common,--that the use of bread would atone for other transgressions.

Thus, suppose he were to have, for once, a rich pudding to eat, or some baked beans, or sweetened rice pudding,--which, as you know, are of themselves very pure nutriments,--set before him, and he were to eat to the full, till the question should begin to arise in his own mind, whether he had not gone too far, it was apt to be thought, or rather _felt_, that an addition of plain bread, or some fruit, or a few cold potatoes, or some other vegetable, would be a correction for the preceding excess. Such, I say, is the virtue which, by a kind of tradition, is awarded to coa.r.s.e and plain food, and to fruits, and even nuts. I know, indeed, that this idea would hardly be defended in so many words; still, it is practically entertained.

To make plainer a great dietetic error, I will explain my meaning. It is believed, for example, that a pound or two of greasy baked beans would not be so likely to hurt a person, if a little bread or fruit or potatoe or sauce were eaten after them, as if eaten alone,--a belief than which none can be more unfounded or dangerous.

One more proof that Samuel was constantly inclined to excess in eating, is found in the fact that there was a continual tendency, in his stomach, to acidity, which was best relieved by a day of entire abstinence; and the same might be said of a tendency to relaxation of the bowels, and its correction. In short, if there be a plain truth fairly deducible from the facts in the case, it is that he was destroyed by a carbonaceous nutriment in too great proportion for his expenditure.

It may have been feared by his friends, that he yielded, at this period, to _other propensities_. Indeed, one letter which I received after his death, more than intimated all this. The remark alluded to was as follows:--"I have had the fear that there was something unexplained about his case, as you say you once had." For various reasons, I am inclined to believe that the indulgence referred to had little to do with his comparatively sudden death. His whole soul was pivoted on that great central organ, the stomach. For this he lived, and for this, probably, he died.

My own princ.i.p.al error, in relation to the case, was, in suffering him to go upon the farm with such unintelligent, though well-intentioned teachers. Lord Bacon and others have said, "A little knowledge is a dangerous thing;" and in nothing is the remark more applicable than to the first or pioneer knowledge of people on hygiene. From the very nature of the case it must be so. I ought either to have protested against the farm, _in toto_, or given such minute instructions that they could not have been easily mistaken. But I had my reasons, at the time, for the course I took, and I thought them quite sufficient. How easy it is, in this world, to find cause for misgivings!