<p><SPAN name="link2H_4_0293" id="link2H_4_0293"></SPAN></p>
<h2> LETTER CCXCII </h2>
<h3> LONDON, October 29, 7766. </h3>
<p>MY DEAR FRIEND: The last mail brought me your letter of the 17th. I am
glad to hear that your breast is so much better. You will find both asses'
and mares' milk enough in the south of France, where it was much drank
when I was there. Guy Patin recommends to a patient to have no doctor but
a horse, and no apothecary but an ass. As for your pains and weakness in
your limbs, 'je vous en offre autant'; I have never been free from them
since my last rheumatism. I use my legs as much as I can, and you should
do so too, for disuse makes them worse. I cannot now use them long at a
time, because of the weakness of old age; but I contrive to get, by
different snatches, at least two hours' walking every day, either in my
garden or within doors, as the weather permits. I set out to-morrow for
Bath, in hopes of half repairs, for Medea's kettle could not give me whole
ones; the timbers of my wretched vessel are too much decayed to be fitted
out again for use. I shall see poor Harte there, who, I am told, is in a
miserable way, between some real and some imaginary distempers.</p>
<p>I send you no political news, for one reason, among others, which is that
I know none. Great expectations are raised of this session, which meets
the 11th of next month; but of what kind nobody knows, and consequently
everybody conjectures variously. Lord Chatham comes to town to-morrow from
Bath, where he has been to refit himself for the winter campaign; he has
hitherto but an indifferent set of aides-decamp; and where he will find
better, I do not know. Charles Townshend and he are already upon ill
terms. 'Enfin je n'y vois goutte'; and so God bless you!</p>
<p><SPAN name="link2H_4_0294" id="link2H_4_0294"></SPAN></p>
<h2> LETTER CCXCIII </h2>
<h3> BATH, November 15, 1766. </h3>
<p>MY DEAR FRIEND: I have this moment received your letter of the 5th instant
from Basle. I am very glad to find that your breast is relieved, though
perhaps at the expense of your legs: for, if the humor be either gouty or
rheumatic, it had better be in your legs than anywhere else. I have
consulted Moisy, the great physician of this place, upon it; who says,
that at this distance he dares not prescribe anything, as there may be
such different causes for your complaint, which must be well weighed by a
physician upon the spot; that is, in short, that he knows nothing of the
matter. I will therefore tell you my own case, in 1732, which may be
something parallel to yours. I had that year been dangerously ill of a
fever in Holland; and when I was recovered of it, the febrific humor fell
into my legs, and swelled them to that degree, and chiefly in the evening,
that it was as painful to me as it was shocking to others. I came to
England with them in this condition; and consulted Mead, Broxholme, and
Arbuthnot, who none of them did me the least good; but, on the contrary,
increased the swelling, by applying poultices and emollients. In this
condition I remained near six months, till finding that the doctors could
do me no good, I resolved to consult Palmer, the most eminent surgeon of
St. Thomas's Hospital. He immediately told me that the physicians had
pursued a very wrong method, as the swelling of my legs proceeded only
from a relaxation and weakness of the cutaneous vessels; and he must apply
strengtheners instead of emollients. Accordingly, he ordered me to put my
legs up to the knees every morning in brine from the salters, as hot as I
could bear it; the brine must have had meat salted in it. I did so; and
after having thus pickled my legs for about three weeks, the complaint
absolutely ceased, and I have never had the least swelling in them since.
After what I have said, I must caution you not to use the same remedy
rashly, and without the most skillful advice you can find, where you are;
for if your swelling proceeds from a gouty, or rheumatic humor, there may
be great danger in applying so powerful an astringent, and perhaps
REPELLANT as brine. So go piano, and not without the best advice, upon a
view of the parts.</p>
<p>I shall direct all my letters to you 'Chez Monsieur Sarraxin', who by his
trade is, I suppose, 'sedentaire' at Basle, while it is not sure that you
will be at any one place in the south of France. Do you know that he is a
descendant of the French poet Sarrazin?</p>
<p>Poor Harte, whom I frequently go to see here, out of compassion, is in a
most miserable way; he has had a stroke of the palsy, which has deprived
him of the use of his right leg, affected his speech a good deal, and
perhaps his head a little. Such are the intermediate tributes that we are
forced to pay, in some shape or other, to our wretched nature, till we pay
the last great one of all. May you pay this very late, and as few
intermediate tributes as possible; and so 'jubeo te bene valere'. God
bless you!</p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />
1 of 2
2 of 2
Previous
Next
Update Required
To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.