the troubled child by rocking the cradle as if for a wager. Much, too, is often said in presence of sick children that ought not to be, on the false supposition that they do not understand what is said. Many a child is frightened by horrid stories, and by gloomy comments upon his own case. Visitors stand over him, and besides fretting him by their staring, they say something, perhaps, of this sort. 'Poor thing! how sick he looks! I don't believe he can get well.' And then they go on to tell about some little child, perhaps his playmate, that had died recently, and whom, perhaps, he saw laid in his grave, and utter in his hearing, with all due solemnity and sorrowfulness, the opinion that he is affected much like him, and will probably die in the same way, adding, by way of consolation to the poor mother, that then they will be in heaven together. Children have sensibilities and hopes and fears, like adults, and they understand, even at a very tender age, enough about death to be affected, and often very strongly, by this holding up of its grim visage directly before them. The mind, and the nervous system, by which the mind is connected with the body,

are as excitable in the child as in the adult, and the avoidance of unnecessary alarm and excitement is as important in the sickness of the one as in that of the other.

I can not forbear here to notice one thing, which often exerts a bad influence upon the mind of the child in sickness. It is the habit which many people have of threatening their children, when in health, with sending for the doctor to bleed them, or to give them some bitter medicine, as a punishment for their misdeeds. The inevitable tendency of this is to increase the mental depression and agitation which disease produces, by the gloomy associations which are thus necessarily attached to sickness in the mind of

the child. The physician should never be held up as a bugbear to children, but should uniformly be spoken of in their presence in such terms, that when he visits them in sickness, they may rejoice to see him, both as a friend and as one who is to bring them relief. There is no doubt that many a child is seized with an ill-defined terror, when the physician is called in, and thinks of him only as some dreadful monster that cuts off children's ears, and gashes their flesh almost for sport. The effect of such a feeling on the weakened and agitated nerves is always injurious, and undoubtedly is sometimes fatally so. One may get some adequate idea of the feel ings of children under such circumstances, by imagining himself, in a state of weakness and disease, to be visited by an incarnate demon, who has both the power and the disposition to torment him.

I am anxious to impress most faithfully the mind of the reader with the importance of giving rest to the mind in sickness. I have already remarked on the extent and the intimacy of the union between the mind and the body. It is never to be forgotten in the chamber of sickness, that the mind not only is not by itself, alone and independent, but that it is not connected with sound nerves, but acts upon a deranged body, and is acted upon by it, through the multitude of nervous filaments, which, scattered every where, are receiving impressions at every point, and transmitting them to the mind. If, therefore, the mind, thus disturbed by disease, be at the same time troubled by causes applied directly to it, the result must be a reaction from the mind through the nerves upon the disease itself. The mental and the bodily irrita tions must increase each other. It is then just as important to withhold all irritating causes from the mind, as from the diseased organ. For example, if the brain be inflamed,

that inflammation may be aggravated as certainly by exciting the mind, as it would be by the administration of any stimulant to the body. In either case the same result occurs the brain is stimulated -the only difference is in the channel through which it comes. And it is the duty of the physician to shut out the irritation from one channel, as much as from the other. When the eye is inflamed, one part of the curative means is to exclude the light, because the light, by exciting the nerve of sight, would increase the inflammation. But the action of the mind is as really connected with the brain and nervous system, as the act of vision is with the eye; and therefore it must be guarded against in inflammation of the brain, as vision is in inflammation of the eye. The same may be said, to some extent, at least, of every other part as well as the brain, for every organ is supplied with nerves connecting it with the mind.

As an illustration of these remarks, I will introduce a case, showing the influence of the irritation of passion upon a diseased body. I refer to the death of John Hunter, who has been often called the greatest anatomist and physiologist of his age. "On October 16, 1793," says his biographer, "when in his usual state of health, he went to St. George's hospital, and, unexpectedly meeting with some things that ruffled his temper, he allowed himself to give way to passion; the heart became overloaded with blood, the ossified aorta, not yielding to the effort of the heart, the countenance became dark, angina pectoris immediately ensued, and turning round to Dr. Robertson, one of the physicians of the hospital, he was incapable of utterance, and died."

This, it is true, is an extraordinary case, but the result of mental irritation in common cases of disease, though not as great and as

palpable as in this case, is nevertheless as real. While it caused in the case of John Hunter a sudden and final suspension of the heart's action, it would, in a man suffering from some inflammation, aggravate that disease, by driving the blood too forcibly into the inflamed part, and by making its irritable nerves partake of the general excitement of the system. The effect might not be at any moment very powerful, but if the irritation be repeated or continued, although it may be vastly less in amount than it was in the case of Hunter, the accummulative effect of the excitement upon the disease would at length become very great, perhaps destructive. And in certain low states of disease, when, in the midst of great weakness, the nervous system is in an extremely agitated condition-a condition, in which little causes may produce powerful effects, a comparatively slight irritation induced in the mind, connected as it is with every trembling filament of that nervous system, may overwhelm the very powers of life as certainly, if not as suddenly, as did the strong passion of Hunter, in overloading his diseased heart, and thus stopping its action.

But withholding irritation, and securing rest and quiet, do not comprise all the physician's duty in relation to the mind, any more than they do in relation to the body of the patient. He is sometimes to excite the mind to positive action, for the same reason that exciting medicines are sometimes administered to the body; and he may thus often exert, through the mind, a very happy influence upon disease. This remedy, as I have already hinted, is to be applied with discretion, according tion, according to the nature of each case, and so as not to interfere with that rest, which we have shown to be so necessary to the mind in the treatment of disease. The excitement must, with some few excep

tions, be agreeable in character, in order that it may produce a genial influence upon the nervous system. The mode, the time and the degree of its application require the exercise of discrimination, as much as the dose, and form, and time of any stimulant or other medicine that is given to the patient. The judgment and tact of the physician are never more needed than upon such points as these. Dr. Tissot, a French physician, relates an amusing case, showing the utility of discrimination in regard to the kind of mental stimulation to be applied. A lady was affected with a lethargy, and many applications were used to rouse her, but to no purpose. At length a person, who knew that the love of money was the ruling passion of her soul, put some French crowns into her hand. After a few minutes she opened her eyes, and was soon entirely aroused from her stupor.

The influence of the imagination upon the body is familiar to every one. I will mention a few cases to show its power.

Beddoes, an English physician of great enthusiasm, had imbibed, among other new ideas, the notion that palsy could be cured by inhaling the nitrous oxide gas. He requested that eminent chemist, Sir Humphrey Davy, to administer the gas to one of his patients, and sent him to him for that purpose. Sir Humphrey put the bulb of a thermometer under the tongue of the paralytic, to ascertain the temperature of the body, so that he might see whether it would be at all affected by the inhalation of the gas. The sick man, filled with faith from the assurances of the ardent Dr. Beddoes, and supposing that the thermometer was the remedy, declared at once that he felt better. Davy, desirous of seeing how much imagination would do in such a case, then told him that enough had been done for that time, and directed him to come the

next day. The application of the thermometer was made from day to day in the same way, and in a fortnight the man was cured.

When Perkins' tractors were in vogue, Dr. Haygarth of Bath had a pair of wooden ones made of precisely the same shape with the orthodox metallic ones, and contrived to color them so that the deception should not be discovered. He then applied them to quite a number of patients, with the same results that followed the use of the genuine tractors, which cost five guineas a pair.

Pain was relieved as if by magic, and the lame were made to walk. Their operation in these cases is of course to be accounted for in the same way with the operation of the thermometer in the case just related.

Some medical students determined to try the influence of imagination upon a countryman who was going into town to market. They met him one after the other, each telling him how pale and sick he looked. At first, as he felt perfectly well, he paid no regard to it, but after two or three had thus accosted him, he began to think there must be something the matter with him. By the influence of imagination he soon began to feel badly, and to look really pale. And as he still continued to meet persons, who declared themselves struck with his peculiarly sickly and ghastly appearance, he grew worse and worse, and the result was that he sickened and died.

I could cite numerous cases illustrative of the influence of the imagination upon the condition of the body, but these will suffice.

The physician has constant opportunities for making use of the influence of mental association to much advantage in the management of the sick. He does this almost insensibly in his daily intercourse with his patients, exciting trains of agreeable associations in their minds, varied to suit the mental and moral

character of each, thus aiding materially the operation of his remedies.

Dr. Rush gives a striking instance of the influence of association, which I will relate in his own words. "During the time," says he, " that I passed in a country school in Cecil county, in Maryland, I often went on a holiday with my schoolmates to see an eagle's nest, upon the summit of a dead tree in the neighborhood of the school, during the time of the incubation of that bird. The daughter of the farmer in whose field this tree stood, and with whom I became acquainted, married and settled in this city about forty years ago. In our occasional interviews, we now and then spoke of the innocent haunts and rural pleasures of our youth, and, among other things, of the eagle's nest in her father's field. A few years ago I was called to visit this woman, in consultation with a young physician, in the lowest stage of a typhus fever. Upon entering the room I caught her eye, and with a cheerful tone of voice said only the eagle's nest. She seized my hand without being able to speak, and discovered strong emotions of pleasure in her countenance, probably from a sudden association of all her early domestic connections and enjoyments with the words I had uttered. From that time she began to recover. She is now living, and seldom fails, when we meet, to salute me with the echo of the eagle's nest."

It is important in the treatment of disease, to remove all causes which awaken disagreeable associations in the minds of the sick, for they often retard, and sometimes prevent the recovery of the patient. It is as clearly the duty of the physician to detect the causes of such associations, and to remove them if possible, as it is to detect and remove the material causes of any irritation or inflammation.

Dr. Rush mentions a case that

came under his observation, in which the influence of disagreeable associations hindered the recovery of the patient. "A gentleman in this city," he says, "contracted a violent and dangerous fever by gunning. After being cured of it, he did not get well. His gun stood in the corner of his room, and being constantly in sight, kept up in his mind the distressing remembrance of his sickness and danger. Upon removing it out of his room he soon recovered."

Some are much more readily affected by mental associations than others. A gentleman in a stage coach was observed to keep his cloak lying by his side, while he was shivering with the cold. He was asked by one of his fellow travelers, why did he not put it on. He replied, "I have just returned from a voyage, in which I was very sea-sick, and while so I lay with that cloak wrapped around me. Foolish as it may seem, I can not put it on without renewing the nau

sea."

The various degrees and modes in which mental associations appear in the sick room, require of course the exercise of discretion and tact, in managing them to good purpose. There is often much injury done by failure in this respect. If, for example, the patient have great irritability of stomach, and if some medicine which has been doing him good, at length become exceedingly offensive to him, the continuance of that medicine might do him essential harm, by the mere influence of mental association; though, aside from this, it may be still an exceedingly appropriate remedy for his disease. Under such circumstances a change must be made, or the patient will be injured, it may be fatally. It will not do to call the patient whimsical, and go right on with the course. The mental association connected with the medicine is practically one of the ingredients in it,

and as such has so modified its nature as to render it inappropriate to the case.

The physician can often do much in curing disease by diverting the mind of his patient. Disease is frequently broken up by producing a new action in the system. This is a principle in medical practice which is familiar to others, as well as to the physician. And this change may sometimes be brought about in the system, by a corresponding change effected in the mind, especially in those cases where the state of the mind is particularly influenced by the disease. The husband of a poor woman, who in a feeble state of health had fallen into a settled melancholy, broke his thigh. The whole current of her thoughts and feelings was now diverted into another channel, from her own sorrows to the care of him and the relief of his pains, and she recovered her sanity, and with it, for the most part, her health, long before the fracture was united. The misfortune of her husband was a severe remedy, but an effectual one.

Every one is familiar with the fact, to which I have already alluded, that dyspepsia has a depressing influence upon the mind. And as the mental depression reacting upon the disease, aggravates it, any thing which tends to remove this depression assists materially in curing the disease. Diversion of the mind from its habitual gloomy ideas to cheerful thoughts and efforts, often exerts a great influence in such cases. I will mention a single case illustrative of this remark. A gentleman of high intellectual character, who was sadly afflicted with the dyspepsia, visited a friend of his who was a physician, and placed himself under his care. The physician saw at once that medicines would do but little good in his case, so long as his mind remained in the same condition, and occupied with the same thoughts; and that a

change there would go far to effect a corresponding one in his bodily condition. He determined to produce this change without the pa-` tient's being aware of his intention, as it in this way would be more ef fectually accomplished. In one of his rides with him they alighted to pick some wild flowers. He adroitly excited his friend's curiosity in regard to the structure and growth of the flowers, and leading his mind. on step by step, he did not stop till he had fairly made him a student of botany without his knowing it. The result was that he engaged in the study with great enthusiasm, and followed it up for some time. He was changed at once from a gloomy self-tormentor into an ardent and cheerful seeker after knowledge in one of its richest and fairest fields, and this change made his recovery a rapid and easy one.

But it is not only in those cases in which the mind is obviously af fected, that the physician is to apply the principle of which we have just been speaking. He can make use of it with much profit in ordinary cases of disease, in his intercourse with his patients from day to day. The sick are prone to brood over their own complaints, and to watch their sensations, and they need to have the mind diverted to other subjects.

In this connection I will notice very briefly the influence of change of scene upon the invalid. When the same objects are seen by him from day to day, and he has the same subjects of thought and conversation, these all act as so many fastenings, or points of attachment, tending to hold the disease in the same unvarying condition. But take him away from them all, and set him free from this discouraging and burdensome sameness, and let his thoughts and feelings flow into other channels, and the change of course favors the introduction of a new state of things, bodily as well as