PHTHISIOLOGIA 
A 
POEM 
MISCELLANEOUSLY DESCRIPTIVE AND DIDACTICAL: 
IN FOUR 
PARTS.



PHTHISIOLOGIA
A
POEM
MISCELLANEOUSLY-DESCRIPTIVE AND DIDACTICAL;
IN FOUR
PARTS.
To which are Prefixed
CERTAIN
PRELIMINARY,
AND
PHISIO - MEDICAL OBSERVATIONS,
AND
ADMONITIONS.
I'M ALL SUBMISSION WHAT YOU'D HAVE IT MAKE IT.
Pope.
LONDON :
PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR ; AND SOLD BY THOMAS BOOZEY, NO. 4
OLD-BROAD-STREET, NEAR THE ROYAL EXCHANGE.
1798. 




PRELIMINARY
AND
PHISIO-MEDICAL OBSERVATIONS
AND
ADMONITIONS.
CONTENTUS PAUCIS LECTORIBUS.
-NAM SATIS EST EQUITEM MIHI PLAUDERE :
HORATII SEBMONUM L. I. ECLOGA 10




PRELIMINARY,
AND
PHYSIO-MEDICAL OBSERVATIONS
AND
ADMONITIONS.
THIS prefatory part, is meant to convey to the reader, such ob-
servations relative to the sequent Poem, as will not, I hope, dis-
please him ; they are such as accrued to the Author upon reperusing
this, and may be considered as elucidating it, and making the
whole suitably explete. Though they are chiefly medical, I hope
they will not be less appropriately useful and pleasing to the
generality of those who may deign to read the work. However
that may be, I will not intrude the reasons which induced me to
give them ; it appears unnecessary, as well as the motives which
have introduced the author thus to public notice. In withholding
these, he dare not attempt to apologize for those defects, which
perspicuous minds will without doubt, perceive in his work.
Should he produce his apologies, he imagines, they would be only
like the covering, of such a veil, as is worn by some females of the
present fashion ; which, though it may coincide with the purpose
of their ideas, is easily seen through, by the wearer, as well as
others.
The Poem, was not composed for those only, who are accus-
tomed to read medical writings ; if it had, it would have more
minutely adhered to the subject ; and have included more matters
intrinsically relative to that. The design was intended for the
world in general, when the publication of it was resolved upon ;
though no flattering sentiment ever pervaded the writer's mind,
that any extensive circulation of it would ever take place ; or that
it was endow'd with such attractions as would allure the notice of
a the


iv
the multitude. In the small number, who may vouchsafe to bestow
their attention and candour, there may be those, who may not be
much informed of the branch we have sketched ; and who may
consequently, be grateful for reaping any advantages which there
is a probability they may, from these admonitions being premised ;
which will follow in the order they are met with in the Poem,
unless, where any subject, more immediately attached to another,
could be rendered more clear, by their being aggregated.
Whether I have done any thing in the whole, deserving of ap-
probation, those to whom it is now submitted, will determine ; my
own diffidence, whatsoever may be the fate of it's production, has
but a lowly station to fall from; expectation has never lifted it, by
its eagle wings : it has long had an intimate acquaintance with
disappointment : though the familiarity has not done away that
sensibility which this has power to awaken.
Whilst I avow, that I have often affixed blame to this enterprise,
when I considered, the little of originality of sentiment or know-
ledge, I was giving to the world, I sometimes found a degree of
consolation, that the manner only of diffusing some degree of in-
formation might meet with commendation ; and as to what I am
now to offer, in this part, I shall only, upon that idea, think any
merit can be claimed ; because, I seldom mean to presume, upon
giving more than the opinions of those, whose sentiments I
have been taught, and writings which I have had it in my power to
consult. Hence, may I be accused, justly, of " printing what
was published long before," and condemned, because
" If nought peculiar through your labours run,
" They're duplicates, and twenty are but one."
The title of this Poem has been anticipated long ago, in a differ-
ent work *, to which it is more applicable perhaps, than to this ; as
being a professed treatise upon PHTHISIS.†
The
* Phthisiologia. Auctore R. Morton, M. D. Londini.
† Defined by Cullen to be an expectoration of pus, or purulent 
matter,


v
The word CONSUMPTION, has been used as a generic term for
emaciation ; but its application has been more generally made to
that disease of the lungs, which so often is attended by bodily
decay.
Our allusions, now, are only made to that pulmonary affection,
which is most properly idiopathical ; and which is supposed to arise
in those, whom PREDISPOSITION prevails ; according to the
sense of construction it has commonly been used in.-As a state,
established in the body, favourable to the production of disease,
whenever any analogously noxious power, or occasional cause *, is
applied to it † ; though, perhaps, it may be better to adopt the
opinion and words, of a celebrated Author ‡, who calls it, a state,
matter from the lungs, attended with hectic fever*." First Lines
of the Practice of Physic, 853. But in his Synopsis Nosologiæ,
where it is mentioned as the sequel of hœmoptysis, he adds, " Ema-
ciation and debility, with cough"
Phthisis pulmonaris est consumptio totius corporis, cum febre,
a mala affectione, et ab ulceratione pulmonum taudem originem
ducens.
De Phthisi pulmonari originali. Morton. loc. cit. See also an
Essay on the Nature and cure of the Phthisis Pulmonalis, by
T. Reid, M. D. 1782, p. 2.
* All diseases are brought on by some external application to the
body or mind ; and this is called occasional cause of a disease,
Fordyce.
† Gaubii clariss. Pathologia, § 75 ; and on predisponent mor-
bisic cause, § 59. Prædisponens dicitur conditio quævis corpori
inhaerens, qua illud aptum est, nata conditione, morbum suscipere.
‡ Vide Joannis Brunonis, M. D. Elementa Medicinæ, editio
Edinburgi, 1784, Cap. I. § 8. Cap. VIII. § 73. and edition (of the
translation) by T. Beddoes, M. D. § 77 and 78.
* A definition of which, he also gives in his Synopsis, p. 80 ; but with
an added note, that he does not consider it as an idiopathic (primary) disease;
judging it, as I believe it is, by most physicians now, only a symptom
of some topical affection, and most frequently accompanying a purulent
state of the lungs. First Lines, 74, 861, 858. Reid, Ch. IV. et seq.
a2 intermediate,


vi
intermediate between perfect health and disease ; a state of the
body which recedes from health, and approaches disease, in such
a manner as to seem still within the boundaries of the former, to
which, however, it bears only deceitful resemblance ; predispo-
sition, and disease, differing only in degree, and that whatever with
a given force produces the latter, when acting with a less force will
produce the former. And, as noxious powers producing disease,
produce also the predisposition to them, we may say, that such as
are really in this state, or if born so, are under a degree of the
disease.
This condition, or DISPOSITION, has been, by most authors,
termed hereditary, and by some, an indelible and irresistible im-
pression, derived from the parents * ; one of the most fertile stocks
upon which any exciting cause of this disease can be grafted.
Observation having noticed, that families who were of a weak and
delicate race, were much attacked by phthisis ; and, that as the form
and character of body, as well as the mind, descended from parent
to child, it was thus deemed hereditary. Morton † places the
question, whether the disease affecting has attacked a patient sprung
from phthisical parents or not ? as a consideration necessary for the
diagnostic ; and mentions that condition, amongst the remote, or
pre-existent causes of Phthisis.
Howsoever this really is, it may be observed, we have assumed
it as a datum in our poem, wishing only to remark now, that pro-
* Ad phthisin proni-Qui phthisi indelebilem, impressionem
a parentibus, licet, irrestituibiles, sunt tamen duiturniores. Obs.
Diagnosin Spectantes ; authore C. Benedicto, M. D. Londini, 1656.
† Dispositio etiam hæreditaria sæpè sæpius Phthsin pulmonem
infert, cum omnibus sit satis notum natos a phthisicis parentibus
in eundem morbum esse proclives. Loc. Cit. p. 70. De causis
pro catarcticis. Ortus a parentibus phthisicis; si quidem iste morbus
(quantum mihi observare licirit) est præ ceteris omnibus hæredi-
tarius, p. 74. De signis diagnosticis.
bably


vii
bably there may be little good foundation for such an opinion, but
as agreeable to the preceding idea of Dr. Brown's *.
* We may rightly give the same reasoning here, which he uses
respecting the gout. Those who differ from the opinion, let them
be guided only by facts, in this as well as in phthisis.
" A taint, transmitted from parents to their offspring, and cele-
" brated under the appellation of hereditary, is a mere tale, or there
" is nothing in the fundamental part of the doctrine. The sons of
" the rich, who succeed to their fathers' estate, succeed also to his
" gout : those who are excluded from the estate, escape the disease
" also, unless they bring it on by their own conduct. Nay, if there
" be but two diseases, in the strict sense of the word, they must be
" either all, or none of them, hereditary. This supposition makes
" the noxious powers superfluous, which have been proved to be
" every thing respecting disease ; and, as it is, therefore, absurd,
" so the truth of the latter opinion must be admitted. The
" stamina, or simple solids, are so given in our first conformation,
" that some persons are distinguished by a rigid, others by a slender
" state of the whole mass. This variety of the stamina, if the ex-
" citing powers upon which the whole phœnomena of life depends,
" be properly managed, admits each its respective state of health,
" suited to its respective nature, and sufficiently good, if the
" excitement suited to each be kept up, by a proper direction of
" the stimuli. Though Peter's father may have been afflicted
" with the gout, it does not follow that Peter must be affected
" because, by a proper way of life, that is, by adapting his ex-
" citement to his stamina, he may have learned to evade his father's
" disease. If the same person, who, from his own fault, and im-
" proper management, has fallen into the disease; afterwards, by
" a contrary management, and, by taking good care of himself,
" prevents and removes the disease, as it has been lately disco-
" vered. What then is become of hereditary taint?-A certain
" texture of stamina is favourable to certain forms of diseases
" (which forms are of no consequence), so that, when the ex-
" citement is adapted to the stamina, even those forms can be
" prevented or cured." Elements of Medicine, edited by Beddoes.
603, et seq.
If


viii
If a child is exposed to the same causes which have noxiously
affected a parent, he, probably, will be liable to the same diseases
the latter was.
It is from the variety of appearances, in the condition of the
body and mind, that the descriptions of different TEMPERAMENTS
have derived their origin, as given by different authors ; though,
perhaps, upon little just foundations : for the characters of each,
as so given, are by nature so much intermixed, in each person,
that they seldom admit of a specific name being given, as pre-
valent in each habit. Such an establishment of the distinction of
temperaments, has been handed down from Hippocrates, to the
present day, with very little variation *.
Dr. Simmons considers whiteness of the teeth as a distinguishing
characteristic, or as a mark of predisposition to phthisis. Dr. Reid
says, he has only observed it in some patients. Our own attention
confirms this.
The clearness, or fairness of the skin, in persons ill of phthisis,
or previously disposed to it, has been generally noticed. And
with regard to complexion, or the colour given to the exterior sur-
face of the body, it may be understood from the following : From
the distribution of the vessels carrying blood, which may vary in
colour, from a high florid or pure red, to a tint of yellow ; for,
as Dr. Fordyce † says, the blood flowing in the blood-vessels is
scarlet, that is, a mixture of red and yellow ; in the arteries, the
yellow is more or less lost in its passage through the capillary
vessels into the veins ; but whilst circulating, a portion of the
yellow is still retained by the veins ; the skin, which is divided
into the scarf, or outward part, or cuticle, the true skin, and mem-
branes of a particular name, which lie between, is colourless ; so is
the cuticle, which is transparent ; but, a part of the membranous
lining is not so, being of a lighter or deeper brown ; that is, a
mixture of red, with a less proportion of yellow and blue than
* The sanguine, melancholic, choleric, and phlegmatic.
† See a Dissertation on simple Fever, p, 55.
constitutes


ix
constitutes white or grey. It is this part, which, seen through the
cuticle, gives the colour which the person is seen to have ; and is
of different shades, according to climate, from black, brown, to
yellowish. In the negro, from its colour, it is more easily dis-
covered, than in the European, of fair complexion. It gradually
acquires more colour as age advances ; since children are fairer
than adults ; in undergoes, also, a change in the European, when
exposed, in hot climates, to the rays of the sun.
That mixture, constituting the colour, is not always the same, in
different people ; sometimes it is such, as to approach more to
white, and sometimes more to grey ; thus governing what is called
complexion.
Though we have chiefly taken our example described, in the
predisposed form, from the young and beautiful *, having an allu-
sion to the object, whose fate first suggested the idea of this work,
but, it will he observed, we have drawn another state, wherein
MALCONFORMATION or DISTORTION of the CHEST is obvious,
and which, experience teaches us, is aptly to be reckoned amongst
* Whom, with the ingenious, are the ordinary prey of phthisis.
Et hæc generis humani strages immanis in juvenes præcipue cadit,
sæpe in formosissimos, præcipue sequioris sexus, et in eos qui in-
genio, et animi et corporis elegantia, præstant. And how often
have you to lament that it fastens upon the objects of your fondest
attachment ; after whose loss, this busy world will seem to you as
a cheerless desart! Pauci sunt quibus cognati, familiares ant amici,
hac peste abrepti, non sunt lugendi. Misera hæc tabes, sæva,
atrox, et insensibilis, teneros et amabiles depascens, cæde et luctu
patriam implet. I am aware of the interest which a child, con-
suming by a slow decay, must excite in the bosom of a parent.
Full allowance, however, being made for the effect of compassionate
affection on the imagination, it will often appear, that the most
amiable individuals of a family, are really singled out by consump-
tion.
De morbis cœli mutatione medendis, p. 326, and Letter from
Dr. Beddoes to Dr. Black, p. 3.
the


x
the predisposing causes of phthisis ; wherein, the habit is slender
and weak, the organs of respiration being, by that confinement
which the bony structure makes, impeded in the free exertion of
their office ; hence, the ease and freedom of the circulation of the
blood must be also restrained.
In the note, quoted * from the Latin poet, a figure of a phthisical
person is depicted ; which, for the sake of the English reader, may
be thus rendered :
His frame, so destin'd by his luckless fate,
In life speeds onward to the tabid state.
Who, from an offspring, phthisical akin,
Derives his frail entailed origin.
Whose lungs a salty phlegm most often taints,
Or the chest grieves catarrhous, with complaints.
In whom the pallid and emaciate face,
And through the form, we, want of vigour, trace.
Whose weak and raucose voice, imprison'd pent,
From strict confines, with labour'd breath is sent.
Whose stork-like neck, in lengthen'd shape extends,
And from the peaked shoulder's height appends.
Whose blades, like as an eagle's wings dilate,
With prominence, as in a fleeting state.
Why thus, perhaps, this semblance should be made,
Why on the phthisical these modes invade ?
Knowest thou not ? It hence may be suppos'd,
With this intent, comparably, disclos'd.
Such form, denotes the system cannot share,
Long, on this orb, a sickle vital care.
But, like the eagle, ready hence to fly,
It soon shall seek the distant realms on high.
This straightness of the chest, may be, as Morton says, either
* See Poem.
natural


xi
natural or accidental * : natural, when the form, from parental
similitude, grows from infancy ; as may be often observed in those
who are called chicken-breasted. The sternum, or front bone of
the breast, standing forwards, with a convex form, or depressed in-
wards, in the lower or other parts ; the extremities, or cartilaginous
parts of the ribs, on each or one side, flattened, where the proper
curve ought to be, as it is in those who are healthily and propor-
tionately formed. The accidental may be acquired from circum-
stances, in those whose family form has no such tendency ; which
may cause curvity, depression, or distortion of some part of the
bony defence of the lungs.
The causes which may effect distortion of those parts, may often
be traced to those circumstances which induce debility in the in-
fantile frame ; or, to a certain state, ab origine, of the constitution,
unfavourable to the healthy progression of ossification ; which
mysteriously prevails in some, without being understood, or being
justly accounted for, upon any certain or well-founded reasons.
Bad nursing, is well known to be a most culpable cause of debility
in all children ; consequently, it must more particularly affect those
who are weakly from birth, and whose natural stamina have a ten-
dency to that; in such, subjected to that neglect, many miseries are
produced and entailed on their future lives. Under such treat-
ment, how often do rickets afflict! under the idea of bad nursing,
we include the neglect of proper clothing, inattention to exercise,
cleanliness, and good air ; want, and abuse of, proper nutriment.
Children require to be warmly and softly clothed, and to have that
clothing changed, as often as cleanliness requires : whilst the skin,
also, to ensure the latter, is attended to, with suitable washings,
frictions, gestation, and motion. The utility of these will naturally
lead to a change of places, where the air is in a fit state for re-
respiration ; from confinement in close dwellings, where a number
of people crowded together by day, and sleep by night, vitiate
the air, and render it unfit for respirable sustenance to the human
b race.
* Phthisiologia, p. 70, 74, 76, &c.


xii
race. Infants require more of food, in proportion to their size,
than adults ; as experience has told to all those who have a plea-
sure in supplying and superintending their necessities ; they re-
quire it also, frequently to be given, in such proportions, and of
such a nature, as will not burthen the stomach, or allure the palate
to take more than is requisite.
A sedentary inactive life, is, to all, prejudicial, if long continued.
During the growth of the body it is particularly so, especially if it
is confined long in any one posture, interrupting the free extension
and action of the limbs, or causing unequal pressure upon other
parts of the trunk. The restraint which dress formerly imposed
upon youth, especially females, seems, in that fault, to have been
successfully combated by the opinions and precepts of authors and
others ; who have gained a conquest over some absurd fashions and
anile sentiments ; to the great advantage, in shape, health, and
pleasure, of the present and future generations ; for now, ease,
and gracefulness, seem to have formed a league against, and suc-
ceeded to, stiffness and formality. The restrictions which apparel
formerly imposed upon ladies, seem lately, by some present
fashions, to be exploded by them, and eagerly accepted by gentle-
men, whose various ligatures, if not inimical to health, are at least
strongly at variance with comfort.
The necessity, therefore, of attention to the infantile state, cannot
be too strongly enforced ; and ought never to be forgotten by those
under whose care they are ; nor by those under whom the youth
of both sexes are placed in their juvenile years ; that whilst the
cultivation of the mind is indubitably needful, and attended to,
those liberties which are necessary, in air and exercise, for the
security of healthful form and vigour, should be liberally indulged
in, as well as the requests of the appetite for food, and the body
for clothing ; so that the rising generation may say with the Poet :
Such the reward of rude and sober life ;
Of labour such. By health the peasant's toil
Is well repaid ; if exercise were pain
Indeed,


xiii
Indeed, and temperance pain. By arts like these
Laconia nurs'd of old her hardy sons ;
And Rome's unconquer'd legions urg'd their way,
Unhurt, thro' every toil, in every clime.
The TEMPERAMENT we have noticed, which is supposed most
prone to the species of phthisis we allude, may be called the
sanguine ; or such, in whom there is a softness, whiteness, and
delicacy of the skin, a slender form of body, fair and ruddy com-
plexion ; in which the colour of the venous vessels are distinctly
traced, the eyes generally blue and the cheeks florid *; the hair of
an
* From the appearance of similitude in the temperament of those
disposed to scrophula and Phthisis, the analogy of the two diseases
has been deduced, and " from observing that a Phthisis, at it's
" usual periods, frequently attacks persons born of scrophulous
" parents ; who had been afflicted with scrophula in their younger
" years-and even when no scrophulous affection has either mani-
" festly preceded or accompanied a Phthisis, this last, however,
" most commonly affects persons of a habit resembling the scrophu-
" lous ; that is, persons of a sanguine, or of a sanguineo-melancholic
" temperament, who have very fine skins, rosy complexions, large
" veins, soft flesh, and thick upper lip : and further, that in such
" persons the Phthisis comes on in the same manner as it does in
" persons having tubercles. Cullen. Cor. cit-at. 879.
" The only dissimilitude which I have been able to ascertain be-
" tween them, and which by no means can be considered to consti-
" tute any essential difference in the characters of these diseases, is
" in the time of their attack : scrophula being for the most part,
" observable in the earlier part of life, and Phthisis at a more
" advanced age. In fact, therefore, the phthisis pulmonalis seems
" to be nothing more than scrophula arrived at the years of
" maturity ; more formidable certainly in its advanced age than in
" infancy, in proportion as the seat of it's affection is of greater im-
" portance of life, than the diseased glands of an earlier period.-
" The best histories of scrophula teach us that laxity and delicacy
to 


xiv
an auburn, reddish, brown, or light colour ; and of little strength :
as opposed to that of the melancholic temperament, where it is
generally strong and black ; in the choleric, blackish ; and in the
phlegmatic white. The cellular texture and muscular fibre, is soft
and tender. With such a condition of the body there is combined
much sensibility of mind, susceptible of the finest impressions of
tenderness and sympathy.-The irritability, as generally under-
stood, great ; the genius quick, and the imagination chearful-the
strength of the body moderate and active-its figure rather disposed
to plumpness or obesity, to plethora or fullness,-the heart being
active, and rather strong, (with respect to the system of blood-
vessels) to hoemorrhagy, inflammation, and hysteria * ; to colds,
catarrhs, consumption and scrophula †.
Such a constitution as this, in the female sex, we have assumed as
the model of our description ; which includes an allusion to that
case which is often tuberculous, or the florid consumption. The
species of this disease which have been enumerated by medical
writers are very numerous, besides this-but the " distinctions
" founded upon the states of the body merely imaginary, or such as
" are not characterized by signs obvious to the senses" are justly
exploded.
" of fibre are the distinguishing features of persons who are subject
" to it. The same appearances constantly mark the predisposition
" to phthisis pulmonalis. The circumscribed redness of the cheeks,
" and other symptoms of phther, are equally common to both dis-
" eases. This plethora is the immediate consequence of that laxity
" of muscular fibres, which pervading the whole of the vascular
" system, occasions the blood-vessels to admit a larger quantity of
" blood into them, than in their natural condition they are capable
" of receiving ; and produces that local congestion in the face, and
" that distention of veins, which are found to accompany scrophu-
" lous and phthisical patients."
Essay on pulmonary Consumption, by W. May, M. D.
p. 38. & seq.
* Treatise on the Materia Medica, by Dr. Cullen, Vol. I. page
112. & seq.
† Essay on the Materia Medica, by W. Moore, p. 35.


xv
exploded. " I am nevertheless disposed to think that there exists
" a more essential difference between different cases of Phthisis
" Pulmonalis than the British practitioners in general seem willing
" to admit. This difference appears to be clearly indicated by the
" symptoms ; and it would probably be completely ascertained by
" dissection, if it were more the custom to open the bodies of per-
" sons who die consumptive. Two varieties or two species have
" lately appeared to me to be well marked ;-the first may perhaps
" be termed the florid, in which, especially during its approach
" and towards its commencement, we perceive at the time of the
" accession of feverishness, the vivid redness of the cheeks, as well
" as an extraordinary permanent redness of the lips, of the tongue,
" and fauces. The eyes too, in such cases, are remarkable for their
" vivacity. The blood, discharged by epistaxis * or hoemoptysis †,
" has a colour evidently more florid than usual. The other variety
" sets in at least with very different symptoms, and has been called,
" on account of the prodigious expectoration of mucus at its com-
" mencement, the pituitous or catarrhal consumption ‡."
There appears to be, in every constitution prone to hoemorrhages
and catarrhose complaints, a condition of debility-and when such
effects take place, we may argue that there is some depraved state
of the lungs ‖-a frame incapable of bearing exposure to different
changes, in the habits of life, or to those causes which endanger
increase of debility--not to be compared to such a hardy race as
Sallust § mentions, healthy, vigorous, and capable of sustaining
labour,
* A bleeding from the nose.
† A discharge of blood from the lungs.
‡ A letter to Erasmus Darwin, M. D. by T. Beddoes, M. D.
p. 6, & seq. & 26.
‖ Hæc signa debilem quidem universi corporis habitum mons-
trant : pulmonum autem pravam fabricam præsertim nonant.
Dissertatio medica inaugurales Gregorio auctore claris-
simo, ex Thesauro Medico, Edinensis, Tom 3.
§ Genus hominum salubri corpore : velox patiens laborum :
plerosque senectus dissolvit nisi qui ferro aut a bestiis interierê, nam
morbus haud sæpe quemquam superat. De bello Jugurthino.


xvi
labour, who sink to the grave by the force of age rather than dis-
ease, unless they are priorly so unfortunate as to perish by the
sword, or become the victims of the beasts of prey.
In the temperament of decreased irritability, as defined by Dr.
Darwin *, subject to consumption, and to all other diseases of
debility, there is observed a largeness of the aperture of the eye,
which, he says, has by some, been reckoned a beautiful feature in
the female face, and indicating delicacy ; but to an experienced
observer a mark of debility ; therefore a defect, and not an excel-
lency-debility is the mark of this temperament, which, is most
frequently found amongst females ; and narrow-shouldered men.
Popular opinion supposes those who are of such a temperament, to
be more irritative, according to the common acceptation of the
word : but in reality they are not so : for defect of irritation, and
excess of sensation alone, most frequently produce disease in the
temperament of sensibility-for irritability, and not sensibility, is
immediately necessary to bodily health ; when there is excess of
sensation, there is increased activity of all those motions of the
organs of sense, and muscles, which are exerted in consequence of
pleasure or pain-such are liable to inflammatory diseases ; and to
that kind of consumption which is hereditary ; and commences
with slight repeated hoemoptoe.
The circumscribed floridity of the cheek, may not always be pre-
sent, before evident advances of the disease have taken place. In
the
* Zoonomia, Vol. I.
† Dr. Darwin queries, whether the iris (pupil of the eye) does
not generally become more contracted just before and just after
Phthisis commences ? Though it is impossible not to perceive the
acuteness of the argument from the habitual dilatation of the pupil to
the inirritability of the system, do not some appearances shew more
decisively still, that the system about the beginning of consumption
is highly irritable ? Being soon heated by small degrees of stimu-
lant diet before debility comes on.-Even so, I do not understand
why in an irritable state of the body, the iris should be unirritated.
Letter to Dr. Beddoes, p. 71.


xvii
the progress of the disease, it is evidently marked, upon the pale
face *; as well as the pearly appearance of the tunica aduata † of
the eye. During a paroxysm of hectic, the redness is truly evi-
dent ; the lips also, and tubecules in the inner canthus ‡ of the eyes,
are brighter than when in health §.
" The hue of the hectic countenance, clear, bright and flushed,
" diametrically opposite to the scorbutic complexion, affords some
" presumption of a state of the blood, equally receding, but in op-
" posite direction, from the standard of health. The countenance
" of persons flushed by exercise or food widely differs from that
" vermillion bloom, which is mistaken by the uninstructed for the
" sign of health, though it is the harbinger or attendant of an
" incurable disease. On holding the hand of a consumptive per-
" son against the light, the semi-transparency of the margin of the
" fingers and joints is, I think, evidently of a more vivid carnation
" in consumptive patients."
FREQUENCY AND FATALITY OF PHTHISIS IN
THIS ISLAND.
Experience, and constant observation prove, that there is suffi-
cient reason to be convinced of this ; without mentioning what
the Bills of Mortality vouch for in London : or the registers of
other parishes.
There
* Cullen, p. l. 860.
† That part called the white of the eye.
‡ Or angle, where the eye-lids embrace each other, near the
nose ; where the little red tumour, called lacrymal carunele is
seated.
§ Reid, p. 10. loc. cit.


xviii
There is no disease which afflicts Britain, that despoils its inha-
bitants more than this ; hence the desirable object of attaining the
possibility of preventing, and the utility of enquiring into the
causes of it : whether we consider the devastations which it makes,
or the objects which are most its prey. It is from this frequency
and fatality that it has been repeatedly deemed an endemic *.
The causes of this are difficult to be ascertained, whether we
institute an enquiry, upon the idea of its being of a scrophulous
nature, or not ; or we allude to the nature of the climate ; or our
manner of living, and clothing.
Respecting Scrophula, though it may be more prevalent here,
than it many other countries we are acquainted with, we dare not
determine that it arises from the effects of climate altogether ;
because it has been occasionally observed in all, and in all situa-
tions, whether cold, hot, humid, or temperate : and has been no-
ticed in all ages †-but, is supposed to be more prevalent, in cold
and humid countries, than in the temperate and dry-not being so
frequent in Italy, as in this island-in Spain, the accounts we have,
leave this still dubious-in Ireland its frequency is said to be more
than here ; as also, in the western parts of the island, than in the
eastern : as is imagined, to be owing, to the greater humidity
which is found there. It may be said however of this, and Phthisis,
as was said on another occasion,
Ere yet the fell Plantagenets had spent
Their ancient rage, at Bosworth's purple field ;
While, for which tyrant England should receive,
Her legions in incestuous murders mix'd.
And daily horrors ;-
Albion the Poison of the gods has drank ‡.
It might be conjectured, that every inhabitant of a climate, was
by
* Dissert. inaug. Gregory.
† Gregory loc. cit. p. 331. & seq.
‡ Armstrong loc. cit. B. III. L. 531, 533, & seq. 


xix
by nature, originally adapted to that in which it was placed ; since
we find no irrational animals, naturally, in sites improper for
them : therefore, that mankind, might live under all the varieties,
and inclemencies of their native climate, without injury, provided
they lived according to the laws of nature. In many instances, we
find people in a rude and uncivilized state, little attending to the
unfavourableness of climate, live in health and vigour ; although
daily exposed to the variableness of such a climate-for, not until
the arts which civilization induced, were known, capable of de-
sending from all inclemencies, of promoting ease, and pleasure, and
familiarizing indulgence and luxury, did people begin to com-
plain of the unseasonableness of weather, and the dissatisfaction of
situation. The unlettered savage, though well acquainted with,
and avoiding, the pain and uncomfortableness of an unfavouring
heaven, does not suffer so much, if chance exposes him to it, as
when it becomes the study of his knowledge to avoid it, by the
introduction of means of peculiar protection and convenience ;
which, in future, may render him more susceptible of the evils he
so carefully sought to avoid-his fears and guardian solicitudes,
aided by his arts, thus ultimately, ceteris paribus, may become the
causes of noxious effects.
The mode, therefore, of avoiding such injuries, is by endeavour-
ing to promote that strength, and hardiness of body, which, whilst
it cannot avoid occasional dangers, vicissitudes, and inconveniences,
may be able, without detriment, to encounter and bear them. But
the elegancies of life, and the capacity which a wealthy state finds
for enjoyment, are often at variance with the right mode of pro-
moting, or attaining such advantage *.
The accomplishing of a robust habit, in such constitutions as we
are treating of in our poem, cannot be gained by immature exposure
to cold, and inclement weather, while in infancy ; as has been
attempted by some, by walking in cold air, little clothing, and the
indiscriminate use of the cold bath ; especially, whilst the structure
c of
* Gregory loc. cit. p. 318. 


xx
of our dwellings, and their pleasurable conveniences, and degree of
heat in their rooms, are of so opposite a nature. By which, infants
or young persons, and even adults, after being exposed to the
effects of cold, will, on returning to so different a state of air, be-
come daily exposed to a cause of inflammation and catarrh ; cir-
cumstances, which cannot be too much avoided, in the phthisical,
scrophulous, or any habit. To the former of which, most particu-
larly, a middle temperature of air will always be the most safe, and
invigorating. " Children are so susceptible of inflammations, that
" a great part of the mortality among them is, as far as I have
" observed and can judge, to be ascribed to the ignorance of mo-
" thers and nurses of the power which even a moderate change of
" temperature, if suddenly made, has to affect their tender and irri-
" table frame. Hence in part the populousness of countries equally
" warm, those gardens of the earth, equally calculated to rear and
" support its inhabitants *."
VARIABLENESS OF THE CLIMATE.
From the earliest time, and by the most ancient writers on the
subject, it appears, that mankind paid much attention to the at-
mosphere, as influencing their feelings and their health ; hence in
all ages, and by all nations, great considerations of, and observance,
were made to it, in the choice of public situations, and private
habitations ; according to climate and season.
But that remark may seem misapplied, when we consider the
form and structure of large and ancient towns in some places ; in
which
* Observations, &c. Beddoes, p. 155. 


xxi
which, our ancestors seem to have paid little attention to the ad-
vantages we value so much, of ventilation and cleanliness. Per-
haps, the closeness and manner of compacting buildings after the
first establishments took place, may have been influenced by the
effects of policy, safety, or necessity ; for few places will be found
to be defective in local and natural advantages, of the considerations
we allude to, on their being founded.
Observations have frequently and reasonably been made, that
those countries are the most salubrious, in which an equal state of
weather, serene and temperate, prevails-and that those which are
hot, very cold, or humid, are more dangerous ; especially if subject
to sudden changes of the weather-but whatsoever may be the
general state of the weather, in any clime or season, whether hot
or cold, those, as Celsus has noticed, which are most uniform in
their continuance, are the best for health ; the variable, the most
inimical to it. We can add our own experience in confirmation of
this, having often remarked, that during any kind of weather
which takes place, in the situation we have mostly resided in, that
the end of the duration of the time, which it has continued, if of
any considerable extent, has been mostly favourable to general
health, provided no particular epidemic disease prevailed. And
that even when the weather has been of that nature, which is
deemed by vulgar opinion to be unwholesome, if it has been per-
manently uniform, little ill health has been manifested, so that
there may be great reason for this idea, that it may be " unfor-
" tunate for the inhabitants of this country, that we are not sub-
" jected to such a continued severity of cold, as should oblige us
" regularly to fortify ourselves by warm clothing *."
Our atmosphere has been said to be generally composed of those
states, which are understood in the common acceptation of the
language, of warm and moist, cold and dry †. Often have we seen
it, for four or five summer's months, temperate, and for the most
part
* Observations, &c. Beddoes, p. 161.
† Burton on the Non-naturals, p. 87.


xxii
part serene, dry, constant, and in every respect benign and salubri-
ous ; whilst the remainder of the year has been cold, humid,
variable, and consequently favorable for the effecting many diseases.
This variableness of our climate, so stigmatized, and so much
deemed repugnant to the health of the Phthisical, may upon reflec-
tion, be allowed to be a cause adequate to the effect ; at least, that
it is peculiarly calculated to excite pulmonary inflammation : with
the concurrence of other circumstances *.
Ought we, upon viewing the average state of the climate of this
island, whilst we make the conclusion we have done above, to call
it unhealthy ? We think not ; and probably facts will warrant us
in making such a conclusion. Let us attend to what Claromon-
tius † says ; and surely, since his time, no great or general altera-
tion can have taken place in our skies, whatever changes may have
happened to our habits or manners.
The Sun, the source of heat and light, and fosterer of life, attends
Britain, as long as may be, with its enlivening presence ; whose
lands, it not more cheers than it fertilizes, by its beams. In sum-
mer it extends the day seventeen hours ; and in winter, when it's
presence must attend and illumine another orbit of the world, as if
unwilling to divert his chariot from this spot, he seems to delay
with it, and allows seven hours for the shortest day-which circum-
stances, whilst I contemplate them, would lead me with incredible
satisfaction, to believe, that no climate could be more salubrious
than Britain.
Yet, that Author seemed to think, on considering the diseases
which the inhabitants are subject to, that the air must not be so
conducive to health. But, we are not willing to attribute the mis-
fortunes of this kind, which we find mixed with our lot, altogether,
to such a cause ; nor, are diseases in general, more frequent or more
numerous here, than in other parts of the globe. He attributes
much to the prevalence of the atmosphere we have in our insular
situation ;
* Obs. Beddoes, p. 149.
† De Ære, aquis, et locis terræ Augliæ. Londini, 1682, p. 15. 


xxiii
situation ; and condemns such an island in general, as more insalu-
brious than the Continent ; because of the frequent existence of
mistiness *, undissipated by the sun †.
In England, really, he says, the sky is mostly thick and loaded
with clouds, not only in winter, but in the middle of summer.
Scarcely ever is it serene, but more generally similar to autumn or
winter weather, no day is there altogether fair ‡, it either raining
wholly, or there is a haziness, or sometimes rain for many days
continuance ; with a heavy stifling atmosphere. Which is the cause
of many diseases, especially in autumn. This is what we were
able to know of Britain, as far as some years' experience would
allow us ; and as such we would have it to be understood gene-
rally. For here, some situations are more salubrious than others.
We find here, the earth bound by frost and snow for many
months ; and that not only, not far from the sea, but even on the
very shores. And even now whilst I write, the days seem quite
wintry, though in May. I am surrounded with such a thick and
dark atmosphere **.
He
* Those roving mists, that constant now begin
To smoke along the hilly country, -
Thompson. Autumn, L, 734.
† Quippe infirmissima quæ que, cœlo sunt obnoxia maxime. In
universum autem insalubrioris esse cœli quam Continentem, per-
multis probari documentis potest. Et quo longius in mari positæ
a Continente recessere, eo graviorem esse ærem constat, ob nebulas e
mari evolutas, quæ vix, ac ne vix quidem a sole dissipantur. Idque
non æstate solum, sed etiam hyeme, imo etiam rnagis. Non tum aer
tepescit obsolutas nives. Tepidus autem aer insalubrior.
‡ - by the cool declining year condens'd,
Descend the copious exhalations, check'd
As up the middle sky unseen they stole,
And roll the doubling fogs around the hill.
** - thence expanding far,
The huge dusk gradual swallows up the plain :
Vanish


xxiv
He gives us the following sentiments, on the regimen of our
ancestors, at a particular period, after having mentioned their kind
of diet, and its effects. However, certainly by such evils, after
constant civil wars, they have learned temperance. For as I was
informed by certain elderly people, the English, before the civil
dissentions, lived in much festive indulgence and luxury ; enjoying
in rotation, at each one's habitation, long continued feasts, with
copious quantities of liquor. And, commonly, there was no one,
howsoever humble his state, who did not liberally treat his neigh-
bours, as well as strangers, with kindness and hospitality*. But what
took place afterwards, when civil discords rent the minds of the
people ! What not only did injury to science as well as the comfort
of social gratifications. After, I know not what kind of a religious
frenzy seized the minds of the people, disturbed peace and over-
turned the order of all things ; the custom of invitation and
visiting fell into disuse. Doubtless, as it seems, for the purpose
of cultivating a different religion ; every person then looking upon
his neighbour with a suspicious eye-hence religion reconciled
their manners to pristine simplicity.
Yet, as few evils do not afford partial good, he observes, one
thing seems to have been derived of benefit (from the civil cala-
mity) that in general, every where the profuse meat at supper was
neglected, which was accustomed to be in such vogue-whence,
one great support, and cause of many diseases, was done away †.
We
Vanish the woods ; the dim seen river seems
Sullen, and slow, to roll the misty wave.
Ev'n in the height of noon opress'd ; the sun
Sheds weak and blunt his wide-refracted ray.
Thomson.
* As Ovid says, Metam. L. II. 94.
Orgia tradiderat cum Cecropio Eumolpo,
Qui simul agnovit socium, comitemque sacrorum,
Hospitis adventu, festum genialiter egit.
† Claromontius, p. 46. 


xxv
We present those observations to the curiosity of the Reader,
the diffuseness of which, we hope will not appal ; and leave them
for his own comments. Though our years, see the most lovely of
the inhabitants of this Island, often a prey to Phthisis, so as to
fix a blame upon its climate, and though our atmosphere be
drenched often, with misty obscurity, and such attendant gloomi-
ness, as may attach horrors to the hypochondriac ; yet, the wise
and active Briton will not suffer oppressed fancy to be deceived,
nor blame his skies for, Novembrile mischiefs, fell with tædium
vitæ, which oftenest arise from other urgent causes : but will still
with patriotic ardour and love, animatedly, say with the Poet :
England, with all thy faults, I love thee still ;
My country ! and while yet a nook is left
Where English minds and manners may be found,
Shall be constrain'd to love thee-though thy clime
Be fickle, and thy year most part deform'd
With dripping rains, or wither'd by a frost,
I would not yet exchange thy sullen skies
And fields without a flow'r-for warmer France,
With all her vines ; nor for Ausonia's groves
Of golden fruitage, and her myrtle bow'rs *.
Which alterations, truly, with native love may reasonably be
allowed ; seeing with truth it may be said, with the Author we
have so lately much attended to †, to be opulent ; abundant in
riches
* Task, a poem, by Cowper, B. II.
† Claromontius loc. cit. p. 10, & seq. who further says in
praise of this
" Island of bliss! amid the subject seas,
" That thunder round thy rocky coasts set up,
Quod si ex fœcunda lætaque rerum omnium productione, possumus
de æris bonitate ferre sententiam : prosecto Britanniam aëre frui
longe


xxvi
riches of every kind, eminent men and women, the most adorned
of their sex.
Britannia! hail ; for beauty is their own,
The feeling heart, simplicity of life,
And elegance and taste : the faultless form,
Shap'd by the hand of harmony ; the cheek
Where the live crimson, thro' the native white
Soft-shooting, o'er the face diffuses bloom,
And every nameless grace ; the parted lip,
Like the red rose bud moist with morning-dew,
Breathing delight ; and, under flowing jet,
Or sunny ringlets, or of circling brown,
The neck slight-shaded, and the swelling breast ;
The look resistless, piercing to the soul,
And by the soul inform'd, when dressed in love,
She fits high-smiling in the conscious eye*.
What is called catching cold, has been frequently inveighed
against, and attributed to the variableness of our climate ; it is an
effect
longeoptimo confitendum est. Nam omnia illic grandiori nitidiorique
forma prognata benignius fovet aletque tellus, quam alibi locorum
ubi videtur aer est salubrior. Non enim mulieres modo numerosa
beatas, pulchraque sobole cernas : sed equis : sed reliqua etiam
animautia multiplici fœtu usque renas scentia cum admiratione
perspicias. Illic boves enormi magnitudine, illic equi turn formosi
tum perniciosissimi, illic canum ingentium et immani rictu formi
daudorum magna vis : illic denique cum virorum turn fœminarum
ad spectabilis et erecta decoraque species, summo cum voluptatis
sensu visitur. Coloreis floridus, læcta frons, vivaces oculi, sub-
flava promissa cæsaries, totus habitus ad elegantiam compositus.
Solum vero ipsura uberrinum, statis anni temporibus, omni bo-
norum genere colonos, floribus, herbis, arboribus, frugibus.
* Thomson's Summer, l. 1580. 


xxvii
effect which opens the way to the worst consequences. " The
" origin of genuine Phthisis may generally be traced from hoe-
" moptysis, or blood issuing from the lungs, from what is termed
" taking cold ; and sometimes from external injuries,*" yet
such a cause how often do we see disregarded, by those who are
most liable to injury from it; for, as Cullen observes, it is often,
upon one or other of these occasions of catching cold, that the
incipient cough of Phthisis begins†, and ultimately proves fatal
to multitudes.
Under such a state of climate, young persons are more subject
to debility, from the impediments to due excitability which they
are subjected to-that debility which in the Phthisical habit should
be obviated ; whilst the causes promoting inflammation are avoid-
ed, the former of which is most efficaciously succeeded in, in a
temperate climate.
The absence of a certain degree of heat, strengthens the body,
generally speaking ; giving vigour to it, and energy to the mind,
by constringing the capillary vessels of the surface, it abates per-
spiration, hence the blood is propelled in an increased volume
towards the heart. In consequence of which the vital principle
is accumulated, and the reaction of the heart and arteries, sends
back the blood with an increased velocity and power to the sur-
face of the body ; so as, in an healthy state, to diffuse a genial
warmth. Such an application of the degree of heat, which does
not carry off the heat of the body too fast, gives, what is called
tone to the whole system, proves a powerful stimulus to the sto-
mach, creating thus a keen appetite for food, with a sense of
lightness, alacrity, and strength ; as those experience, who live in
a cool dry air, and maintain a suitable degree of exercise ; having
for the most part, strong and active health, with good digestion,
and a complexion which bespeaks those.
D the
* Reid loc. cit. p. 6.
† P. l. 890. 


xxviii
The extremes of cold are unfriendly to the constitution, as
well as those of heat. In this climate we are more liable to be
exposed to an excess of the former, than the latter. The relative
power of cold, with respect to the living human body, is that
power by which a sensation of cold is produced in it*.
Under the effects of warmth of season those who have betray-
ed symptoms of Phthisis have found them disappear ; as the
afflicted in winter, have experienced in our climate in summer.
Which circumstance, has often afforded a fallacious idea that a
cure was effected ; and that those means which were exhibiting at
the time were the promoters of it. A deception alas! but too
frequently well ascertained, by the recurrence of symptoms in
winter and spring†. Such a state has been known to be repeated
several times during life, and has been observed in those constitu-
tions, in whom during spring there appeared to be a great determi-
nation of blood to the lungs. By the appearance of Pus, which has
been exscreated, concomitant with other signs, incipient Phthisis
has been denoted ; all which, have ceased in summer.
Under poverty of diet, particularly, the same observations have
been made respecting scrophula-the complaints attendant on
which, seem often to commence, or to be aggravated in winter, to
increase in spring, decrease in summer, and are often entirely re-
moved in autumn ; though they are again renewed in winter‡.
Thus considered, summer may be deemed the most healthy
season for the Phthisical ; but some think, winter is not to be con-
demned as the most dangerous. Spring and autumn, are judged
to aggravate complaints of such a nature most, on account of the
distribution of the blood being more disturbed by the sudden
changes of weather, which are prevalent in those times. In sum-
mer the perspiration is more increased, and the blood more deter-
mined
* Cullen p. l. 89.
† Cullen, loc.cit. 896. Gregory loc. cit. p. 333.
‡ Gregory p. 331. & seq. 


xxix
mined to the surface of the body by the warmth of the air ; and
thus, less fluidsdetermined to the urinary excretion-In winter the
reverse takes place-In autumn, that equilibrium between the
kidneys and the surface of the body, is not so regular ; hence a
greater determination, often owing to the irregularities of the wea-
ther, to the lungs. Yet, though in winter things may so take place,
in the system of the body, yet often sudden changes of the wea-
ther disturb this uniformity ; as well as the greater cause we make,
by the difference of the air in our dwellings, and that of the air
out of doors ; for whilst in the latter, it may be extremely cold,
we may maintain great warmth in our houses ; and the exposure,
and change from one to the other, causes irregular, and often
sudden changes in the distribution of the blood. In summer the
external air being warm, obviates the need of fires within doors ;
and thus places are in a more equable state of warmth, which ren-
ders them more congenial, and less disturbing to the constitution ;
and the perspiratory function, except from violent causes, is sel-
dom suddenly or violently interrupted or changed from its uniform
cutaneous discharge.
To obviate such effects, attention should be paid to avoid sud-
den transitions from heat to cold ; or from cold to heat, and the
surface of the body should be suitably defended by cloathing, ac-
cording to the season, or the obligation, which necessary transitions
imposes upon us, so that they may not be suddenly felt.
OF THE MANNER OF LIVING AND CLOATHING.
If we have been diffuse, according to the manner and nature
of what we have brought forward, respecting the variableness and
intemperateness of climate supplying certain remote causes of
consumption : we do not mean to say much on the subject of
diet in this light ; and of cloathing we shall speak afterwards.
D 2 It 


xxx
It must be allowed by all, that the abuse of stimuli in food
and drink, is, the source of numerous diseases of an insuperable
nature ; and hastens the decay of excitability too rapidly. This
indiscretion, at all periods of life, is too often exemplified ; but
more particularly is to be regretted in juvenile years.
To the sanguine constitution, such abuse must always be ob-
noxious, tending to promote extreme irritability at one time ; and
debility ultimately-The application, in which state, of exciting
causes may promote hoemoptysis and pulmonary inflammation.
To females, such an abuse of excitement in the articles of food,
perhaps is not so extensively applicable ; nor to the many cases,
which we see afflicted, from causes, scarcely to be traced in that
sex. But the degree of excitement in every frame must be allowed
to be relative, hence, how is the precise medium which most
favours health to be described, or is it possible to be observed
and adhered to ?
UNSUCCESSFULNESS OF MEDICAL KNOWLEDGE.
The difficulty which has been experienced in the cure of idio-
pathical phthisis, cannot in the present state of our science be a
degradation to individuals to acknowledge ; though we lament,
it is so, to the art: and is much to be regretted by humane in-
dustry and desire especially, when we take a retrospect of what
little advancement has been made to this end, since the time of
the primitive medical writers. Celsus* says, if there is a greater
degree of disease, than what he has before mentioned, it is neces-
sary to oppose its progress in the early stage ; for when it has
continued long, it is not easily subdued.
Morton
* Quod si mall plus est, et vera phthisis est, inter initia protinus
occurere necessarium est: neque facile enim hic morbus, cum in-
veteraverit, evincitur. l. 3. c. 22. 


xxxi
Morton confirms the opinion of Celsus, and adds, that phthisis
arising hereditarily, or in mal conformation of the chest, for the
most part is fatal ; because, the cause which produces it, is be-
yond the reach of our art: though, he admits that it may be
cured* in the spring season, the approaching warmth con-
ducing to this ; but observes afterwards, that often this hercu-
lean disease, by certain means becomes incurable ; either because
the physician, which not unfrequently happens, or from the
flattering nature of the disease, or carelessness and parsimony
of the patient, is consulted too late† ; or, lastly, from the igno-
rance of the physician, who not having a right knowledge of
this disease, in its various stages, understands not therefore the
proper method of treating it.
We have made an allusion to this difficulty, in confessing, in
our poem, the little addition, through the lapse of time, which
has been made beneficially to our knowledge; yet we do not
mean, whilst we confess our little power of controul over the
disease, to allow that it is in itself absolutely incurable : we are
more inclined to give with Cullen‡, the failure to the imperfec-
tion of our art. Of this opinion is Dr. May§; and Dr. Reid
does not believe, the disorder in its own nature, is attended with
so much danger as has been usually apprehended ; and, that the
opinion of its fatality being so generally received, has weaken-
ed
* Æqui ac caeteri morbi, he says, De prognostics p. 134, 135.
† " Nor has wealth yet, been able to provide a barrier capable
" of resisting its invasion ; few, except the needy, neglect to call
" in the aid of medicine, and many doubtless steadily pursue
" the directions they receive ; nevertheless, rich houses are every
" day, discharging into the grave, victims to this disease."
Beddoes' Letter to Dr. Black, p. 2.
‡ loc. cit. p. l. 899
§ loc. cit. Introduction, p. 8.
‖ Essay p. 66.


xxxii
ed the efforts of the physician-we would willingly in general
believe not. Patients and their friends have often been im-
pressed with this idea, when medical attempts have not produced,
as expected, the hoped success ; and thence have relaxed in their
endeavours, and been unsteady in their adherence to medicine and
regimen ; but this is not an observation, applicable only, to this
disease, or to such patients ; practitioners in physic know the
difficulty of bringing their patients to, and persuading to a per-
severance in, an observance of rules, which interrupt established
habits and pleasures : especially if the disease is of that nature,
which is likely to be protracted ; besides, as the last author says,
the opinion of friends and attendants, often interpose and frus-
trate the desires of the physician ; as few of those, are without
some specific remedy, for the cure of a consumption.
We believe, notwithstanding those impediments, as well as
opinions and errors, which have long been held, perhaps ad-
versely, to right reason and experience ; that the assurance, that
the disease " is curable at any period, before the vital strength
" is greatly broken down, and the Stomach and digestive facul-
" ties rendered incapable of assimilating nourishment*", is rather
yet unqualified, if we may speak from our knowledge of ge-
neral facts.
If we take, phthisis in the light it is viewed by some, as a cer-
tain form of scrophula†; we may venture to say, though many
advantageous and successfully curative improvements, have been
made in the treatment of scrophula, yet we know very little of
its real nature, or the cause of the disease. If it is " a contami-
" nated habit of body, some latent vitiated principle in the
" constitution, upon which the fatality of consumption has de-
" puted."-Do we know what that is ? if not, how are we to
know how to correct it ? therefore till then, we wander only in
the dark ; with such facts to guide us as successful experience
has in some few instances furnished us with : and it avails little,
to
* Essay, &c. Reid, p. 68. † May's Essay.


xxxiii
to be told, that " whatever tends to correct that principle, and
" to improve the general habit of the constitution, will be found
" best appropriated to the cure of phthisis* ;" nor, is it any more
consolation to reflect, that there is a certain peculiarity in the
Phthisical, which is not explained, though by most allowed ;
and, that when its morbid state is evident, is more often sub-
dued by physical causes, whose mode of operation we are little
acquainted with, than by medical powers.
We still want the right means of distinguishing with exactness,
the different kinds of consumption, at least, more so, than they
have generally been ; not only to guide our diagnostic but our
practice† from the want of this, and a better insight into causes,
our prognostic is only established upon the knowledge of con-
stant ill success, and is therefore, always unfavourable, in every
stage of the complaint : and particularly so, if there is reason to
suppose that the scrophulous diathesis is, as it has been termed,
called into action.
Dr. Beddoes, says, not much seems to be gained, by ranking
phthisical tumors and ulcers of the lungs, among scrophulous
complaints. We have no very successful method of treating
scrophulous sores wherever seated.-Not to mention that very
different ailments are comprehended under a term so conveni-
ently vague. I see no hopes of transferring any useful ideas from
the external appearance of scrophula, to the internal form of the
disease ; if they should be essentially the same, of which I am by
no means satisfied‡. In resolving tubercles, the analogy of scro-
phula gives no assistance in this matter ; for the remedies which
are useful in scrophula, do not avail for that intention§.
There does exist, as Dr. Withering confirms, a truly scrophu-
lous consumption ; but according to his words, it is a rare, and
not
* May's Essay, Introduction, p. 19.
† Letters from Dr. Withering, &c. p. 11.
‡ Observations, &c. Beddoes, p. 112.
§ Cullen, p. l. 907.


xxxiv
not incurable disease, if the treatment be properly adjusted to its
nature ; but the treatment which I have repeatedly found suc-
cessful here, would only hasten the florid consumption to its
fatal termination*.
We have reason, for concluding, therefore, that much remains
yet to be done, to give greater certainty to our proceedings in
the treatment of consumption. The active industry of the pre_
sent generation, aided by the improvements and lights which
chemistry offers, and an increase of physiological knowledge, will
no doubt, it not altogether successful in its efforts, contribute
amply by its endeavours, to do away the defects which remain.
Hope seems now to have a more substantial support to lean upon,
than what the vague opinions, and theories of our ancestors
afforded ; dependence upon the futile and inert medicaments to
correct humours, used by them, seems now to be dethroned ;
the acquired reputation of most of which, probably arose from
the sanative changes in the body, produced by age and season.
To this, we attribute much of the character which has been at-
tained by QUACK and SPECIFIC MEDICINES, so constantly offer-
ed to the world under every species of advertisement. To the
natural actions which take place in the system, producing a
curable effect, under the use of a particular medicine, have those,
given in phthisis, as well as other diseases, which would often
perhaps have taken place sooner, without such interposition,
been raised to the highest rank of laud and trust ; there to receive
the adulation of their votaries, and sway their usurped authority
over the confidence of individuals, and often of the multitude,
till the time when perspicuous observation, and scrutinizing ex-
perience removes the veil, which concealed the truth of their
ineffectual power. So, often, does one physician by being em-
ployed after another, at a particular period of disease, bear away
the palm of honour, and the fruits of a joyful victory : to whose
fame, built perhaps, on the care and prior attention of another,
constant Paeans are sung in future, full of confidence and admi-
ration.
The
* Letters 


xxxv
The number of specifies which oppose themselves daily by
their recommendations, as allured remedies, to the eyes, for
coughs, colds, and consumptions, would seem to contradict the
above sentiments ; but the author does not condemn them with-
out reason and experience, having frequently exhibited them
from his own inclination ; as well as when willing to give
way to the desire of the patient, to try the most celebrated of
them, in various stages of the disease ; he has superintended thus,
their use and watched their effects, without seeing any beneficial
consequences curatively, or with so much palliative ease as can
be attained, perhaps, more safely by generally well known me-
dicines.
Perhaps, it may now be expected, that we should give our sen-
timents on the particular means which have been used in the
CURE of PHTHISIS, and offer also a plan for it ; but such a de-
tail comes not within the scope of our present design, nor would
the state of our experience warrant an attempt of the kind, it
could not therefore afford information to one class of readers, or
amusement to others ; hence an apology will be obvious for the
little that has been said on this head, in the poetical part of this
work.
On the PROPHYLAXIS, or the Means of preventing or guarding
against PHTHISIS.
Perhaps, with propriety, more may be written with the
hope that greater certainty may accompany it, than what we
could be flattered with from any doctrines of cure. Considering
therefore, the difficulty attendant on this, our endeavours should
be more strongly opposed against the appearance of morbid signs ;
by, such means of prevention, as are in our power, and as pre-
E sent


xxxvi
sent, the most probable reasons for such an expectation ; it will
be found to comprise the avoiding most of the remote and oc-
casional causes, as all should be, which can, or are known, to
call the disease into action.
The observations we have to make respecting this will be com-
prised under Change of Climate, Cloathing, Diet and Exercise.
CHANGE OF CLIMATE.
It has been observed, that a variable and intemperate clime
seems to supply certain remote causes which are often removed
in a temperate state of air in another region, and thus allows
the powers of nature to effect a cure. Many opinions* and facts
confirm this, and that spending the winter in more favourable
situations, obviates when timely used, all the threatening symp-
toms which may have been felt in this island. Persons so afflicted,
therefore, should remain under such auspicious skies, and live
perpetually with summer temperature.
If, when air is of such a temperature, as with the assistance of
other operations in the animal œconomy, only to carry off such
a quantity of heat from it, so that the remainder may rightly
support the body, we say the air is mild, because we are not sen-
sible of any troublesome degree of heat or cold.
This temperature varies in different people according to cli-
mate, age, and constitution ; and of whatever degree this plea-
sing and temperate state may be, any change from it, as under-
stood by the rising of the thermometer a few degrees, makes our
sensations complain of heat or cold.
The middle temperature of our atmosphere being about 48°
Fahrhenheit, when we do not call the weather either hot or cold.
The
* The anatomy of the absorbing vessels by W. Crookshanks,
p. 178. and Thes. inaug. Gregory. 


xxxvii
The mercury seldom falls under 16°, at 24° we are apt to reck-
on it very cold ; coldish at 40° and a little above it, even we do
not reckon the air warm till it arrives at about 64°, at 80° it is
very warm and sultry*.
Heat is more readily and quickly diffused through the sub-
stance of water than the earth if the surface of that is extensive,
it will be of more equal temperature with the atmosphere than
this will be : denser bodies do not conduct heat so well as rarer,
hence water and earth retain heat longer than air, a colder at-
mosphere therefore passing over these will receive heat from
them. The coldness of a winter's wind by its passage over sea,
or land is thus moderated, and the air incumbent on the sea
will be of a warmer temperature than that on land, of course
islands, according to relative situation, may be so, more than
continents, countries which border on the ocean and lie south
of the sea, at least in our hemisphere of the globe, will be war-
mer than those which have the sea to the south of them, because
the winds which would cool them in winter if they blew over
land, are tempered by passing over the sea.
If air is of a suitable degree of warmth and is not saturated by
moisture, but is what is called warm and dry : it is in that capa-
city able to afford that refreshment to the body which it requires,
when under a state of perspiration, by dissolving the discharged
humidity: this relieves the body much when heated by exercise.
From the properties of heat and air, the body and respiration
may be affected by the qualities of matters which the atmosphere
may contain, mixed or in solution ; the peculiarities of which
may be governed by the season of the year, and the nature of the
places over which the air blows : as seas, rivers, lakes, marshes,
&c. One cause of the cold of northern climes, is attributed to
the solution of ice by wind coming in contact with it, for ice in a
thawing state, is known to indicate great coldness, to which must
E 2 be
* Essays on heat by Martine, p. 110. and seq. 


xxxviii
be added the cold produced by the heat carried off by evapora-
tion ; thus winds blowing to us in winter from those quarters
of the world where large bodies of ice are formed, affect us with
great cold-This impression is produced upon us by several
other causes also.
It is not enough for those who have felt the approach of
phthisis, and are induced to try the effects of change of air, that
they should spend only such a length of time there, as seems to
have put the alarm aside ; they should persist in their residence,
till the constitution is so fortified, and if in youth, so changed as
to be able to bear other situations with impunity. So those
young persons whose families have suffered by phthisis, and there
appears danger to hang over them, should in early years, before
complaints take place, be removed to the most genial climate,
and there remain till that age is past over, which experience has
taught us, is attended with the greatest danger*.
The advantages of Sea Voyages have been long ago pointed
out and praised†, not only in incipient, but advanced stages of
phthisis; their good effects have been differently accounted for,
from the salutary effect of exercise, sickness,and the temperature of
sea air, and its supposed properties. In different cases, each may
claim merit, but probably, in general the advantage gained de-
pends upon the conveyance of the patient thus, to a more favor-
able climate, than what he existed in on shore‡.
The expediency of performing this early in the commence-
ment of the disease is obvious, if utility is hoped for, provided
no inflammatory symptoms forbid any species of exercise ; for
from the tardiness and neglect of patients, or their advisers,
these expected benefits are too long procrastinated, and thus dis-
repute is too often brought upon the means.
Celsus
* Thes. inaug. Gregory, p. 333. & seq.
† Gilchrist.
‡ Reid's Essay. 


xxxix
Celsus admonishes us of this*, when he recommends change of
place ; that it may be early whilst the constitution is able to bear
it ; but that if imbecility forbids navigation, the gestation should
be in a litter ; so that the body may be gently exercised. In which
state of debility, the mind should be kept at ease, abstaining from
the solicitudes of business, and should be allowed indulgence
in sleep. He advises also frictions to the extremities of the phthi-
sical, and that the food taken and exercise used should be during
remission of paroxysms.
CLOATHING
When property adapted in its kind, is one of the most excellent
means of securing the weak from the effects of a variable climate;
with us it cannot be too particularly attended to, and more es-
pecially by those subject to pulmonary affections ; seeing that
daily occurrences offer to our observation, the frequent difference
there is in the range of the thermometer, and the degree of mois-
ture in the air at different times of the day, in our finest season of
the year, and that the mutability of one day from another, is per-
petually frustrating the expectations of the mind on the proceeding
day. It is necessary therefore to enforce, that those who would
not subject their feelings to unpleasantness, nor their health to
danger, should be always secured by cloathing against exposure to
hidden changes.
It is for this defence, that the use of flannel, and the softer tex-
tured manufactories from wool, have been so much advised ; being
one of those substances like furs loosely interwoven, it slowly con-
ducts heat, so that by its proper management an equable degree of
warmth may always, pleasantly, be maintained on the surface of
the
* l. 3. c. 22.


xl
the body, resisting the attack of atmospherical variety in tem-
perature*.
He well advis'd who taught our wiser sires
Early to borrow Muscovy's swarm spoils,
Ere the first frost has touch'd the tender blade ;
And late resign them, tho' the wanton spring,
Should deck her charms with all her sister's rays.
For while the effluence of the skin maintains
Its native measure, the pleuritic spring
Glides harmless by†.
In warmer weather, which may continue uniformly, those who
use exercise in it, may so manage this cloathing as not to incur the
unpleasantness of accumulated heat on the skin, urging perspira-
tion too much, whilst at the same time, the humidity is not eva-
porated ; whence too great a stimulus is excited on the skin,
and uneasiness and debility ensue. We have known some weakly
people injure themselves thus, and could point out a case to ex-
emplify this.
The connections between the surface of the body and the lungs
respecting their excretory offices, is well known ; if the perspira-
tion is injured greater determination will be made to the lungs,
and the defective discharge from the skin will often be supplied
by expectoration from them ; thus from exposure to cold, may we
see a remote cause of pullumonic inflammation ; especially if the
lungs at the same time are exposed to the action of cold air‡, for
in those who labour under some complaints of the chest, the re-
spiration of cold air produces coughing.
In
* See a Letter to the Patentee of fleecy hosiery, by Dr. Buchan.
Observations, &c. Beddoes. May's Essay, p. 46.
Fordyce's Dissertation on simple Fever, p. 145.
† Armstrong loc. cit. b. 3. l.  484.
‡ Cullen p. l. 345.


xli
In those who dwell in moist warm situations may be observed
laxity and debility of body, paleness of complexion, languor in
motion, bad appetite, &c. especially if joined with a sedentary life ;
hence cautioned the poet
Dry be your house; but airy more than warm,
Else every breath of ruder wind will strike
Your tender body thro' with rapid pains ;
Fierce coughs will teize you, hoarseness bind your voice,
Or moist Gravedo* load your aching brows†.
The long continued respiration of humid cold air, and its
application to the body, is pernicious ; for the reasons we have
given ; it cannot readily dissolve that aqueous part which issues
from the lungs, and the perspiring pores of the skin. The solids
become relaxed, and the whole system debilitated. There is no
healthy equality, maintained between the secretions and excre-
tions, The absorbents do not perform their office with right
vigour. This may be confirmed, by observing those who with
close application, follow the occupation and sedentary employ-
ment of weaving linen and muslin ; whose works require a
situation which may keep the threads moist ; a damp room there-
fore, is generally their residence, during their labour, hence
often are found amongst their complaints, diseases arising from
visceral obstructions, coughs, other affections of the lungs and
chest, intermittent, and nervous diseases, as called, if such there be?
The bloated Hydrops and the yellow fiend.
Skies such as these let ev'ry mortal shun
Who dreads the Dropsy, palsy, or the gout,
Tertian, corrosive scurvy, or moist catarrh ;
Or
* Armstrong b. i. l. 315.
† A cold affecting the head, in the nostrils and adjacent cavi-
ties, a cœtœrrhous affection. 


xlii
Or any other Injury that grows
From raw spun fibres, idle and unstrung,
Skin ill-perspiring, and the purple flood
In languid eddies, loit'ring into phlegm *.
Children, should particularly, have an uniform temperature
maintained on the skin, and young persons. We have witnessed
the loss of many lives a sacrifice to the attempt of rendering
them hardy by exposure to cold ‡, and are aware of what
some will urge, that many children are healthily brought up un-
der the rudest exposure, and under such treatment. But those
who make such an observation, have not probably, had the op-
portunities which those who attend the sick poor, medically,
have had, to know the numbers who fall victims to exposure to
cold, bad clothing and poverty of diet. Perhaps indulged with
an amelioration of this, they might be more capable of resisting
the effects of cold. From the nearer medium of the state of
heat, in the dwellings of the poor, and that of the exterior at-
mosphere, they escape the effects of those sudden transitions
which often affect children born to reside in he habitations of
opulence. " I consider it, indeed, as one of those maxims,
" which ought never to be lost sight of, if our children were
" intended all their lives to go naked, and to live in open fields;
" but since the customs and manners of this part of the world
" require that men and women through life must be perpetually
" and unavoidably exposed to dwell in comfortable habita-
tions,
* Armstrong, B. I. l. 157.
‡ " In children it is of the utmost consequence to keep the
" body cool, but never to suffer it to be cold. Thus without
" being enervated, they may escape the fatal consequences of
" heat succeeding quickly to cold ; for it is not true, as seems,
" in consequence of an analogy more or less distinctly conceived,
" to have been frequently imagined, that cold hardens children
" as it hardens steel," Observations, &c. Beddoes. 162 


xliii
" tions, to sit upon warm carpets, and to sleep on blankets and
" feather beds, it certainly behoves us to regulate their clothing
" in infancy, as equally to guard against the ill effects of either
" extreme.-In every region we may observe external warmth to
" be nearly as necessary as internal nourishment for the young
" of almost every animal. Warm rooms and impure air may
" enervate the body, but warm clothing can never be injurious
" in cold weather. I am so thoroughly convinced that pure air
" and a warm skin are indispensably necessary for children, that
" I never behold them with naked breasts, legs, and arms, how-
" ever hardy and robust, that I do not anticipate the horrid con-
" sequences of angina, of croup, or of pectoral or intestinal in-
" flammation*."
We have no information, in a medical view, of the state of
our Island when our rude forefathers inhabited it ; and of the
diseases which then prevailed amongst them: probably such as
make havoc amongst us were unknown to them. Some plau-
sible reasons to which we doubt not the reader will readily
assign.
The idea, of the necessity, of wearing flannel next the skin,
and of seldom changing it, should be opposed† ;" the first, need
not be insisted on, and the latter, should be neglected by clean-
liness. Probably the effects which took place from that opinion,
might be one means of bringing the use of woolen, so much worn
by our ancestors, into disgrace and disuse.
F Seeing
* Medical Spectator, v. i. p, 367.
† Marcidis et extenuatis vice indusiarum lintearum quae
proxime autem tangunt, admoveantur, panna Wallica lanea
molliora, contexturae purissimae, Anglice Flannin dicta, nec
saepius renoventur : hoc modo halitus sanguinei seu spiritus re-
tinentur, et ab aere minus solicitati, haud depeculantur. In-
teralaneas texturs optiame mihi videntur, quae ex hoedorum et,
ovorum inguine et emuncturis contextuntur.
Regulae vestitui dicatae, Tabidorum theatrum, p. 128. 


xliv
Seeing, the lower class of people, have it not always in their
power to acquire requisite clothing, the neglect of it by those
who have, renders the aptness of the following observation pro-
per to be repeated. " Among the richer clads, this fatal dis-
" ease, would perhaps be less common did they not by a strange
" infatuation, take the most effectual steps to contract it. If a
" greater proportion of females fall victims to it, is it not be-
" cause losing sight more than men of its primary purpose, they
" regulate their dress solely by fantastic ideas of elegance? If
" happily our regret should recal the age of chivalry, to break
" the spell of fashion would be an atchievement worthy the most
" gallant of our future knights. Common sense has always
" failed in the adventure ; and our ladies, alas! are still com-
" pelled, whenever the enchantress waves her wand, to expose
" themselves half undressed, to the fogs and frost of our
" Island*."
To this, may be appropriately added, what Dr. Reid says,
when speaking of the frequency of consumption among females.
" The present absurd fashion of introducing young women early
" into the world, as it is termed, before their bodies have ac-
" quired a proper degree of strength and firmness ; and the
" mode of living among people in genteel and high life, and
" even in the middling stations (if any such can be found) is one
" great cause of the frequency of consumptions ‡."
Since we do not, in this climate, live under a pure serene sky,
where only the most temperate zephyrs fan their gentle wings,
it behoves the young and the aged, and all who cannot bear
transitions, or intemperate states, to skreen their frame from the
pernicious effects of these ; by endeavouring to support in that
a medium of warmth, by clothing : the genial nature of which,
will amply repay their attention. Do not be deceived by those,
who may bring to your knowledge, the instances which are
found
* Observations, &c. Beddoes p. 169.
‡ Essay p. 5.
 


xlv
found in all the variety of situations, of lives protracted to the
ultimate allowance of nature, under the most unfavourable cir-
cumstances; remember the thousands who fall, whilst those so-
litary few but remain.
We have little to say here ON DIET, though it might be con-
sidered under two heads ; that which is suitable in the prophy-
laxis : and that which should be used during any particular stage
of the disease. Respecting the former, we have given, some
hints, when on the manner of living, and would add to it, our
condemnation of the too early introduction of that diet, for
children and young persons, where the use of wine and, con-
diments prevail. If children are indulged with these, and the
choice of animal food, they early shew an appearance of vigour
and health. Though, as the author of the medical Spectator
says, in the paper we have before quoted, we do not believe
that such children are more prone to eruptions, and what is
called humours, perhaps less so, than those who are more poor-
ly nourished ; but of this we are more certain, their powers of
life are too much excited by such food, and every infantile dis-
ease to which they are liable, falls upon them with double vio-
lence. Parents, therefore ought most diligently, to aim at af-
fording a happy medium of diet to their children. Every age
and every constitution if the excitement be properly directed has
it's appropriate degree of vigour. Childhood, and that weakness,
which depends on abundant excitability, admits of little stimu-
lus ; by less than the due proportion it is rendered languid, by
more, it is oppressed, for excitement the effect or exciting
powers, the true cause of life, is, within certain boundaries,
proportional to the degree of stimulus. This when moderate
produces health; in a higher degree gives occasion to diseases of
excessive stimulus; in a lower degree, excessively weak, it in-
duces those that depend upon a deficiency of stimulus or de-
bility†.
Where
† Brown's Elements, 23. 26s 


xlvi
Where children are naturally remarkably strong and vigorous,
possessing ruddy cheeks firm flesh, and that appearance of mot-
tled legs and arms, which is generally esteemed a characteristic of
health ; a more plain and simple diet is all that they need, with
little indulgence in animal food ; but to such as are otherwise
characterized by puny stamina, with pale countenances, and all
the evidences of flaccidity of skin and solids, well marking gene-
ral debility, and feeble powers of animalization, a more liberal
use of food is absolutely necessary of the animal kind, especially
after teething.
But in infancy, as well as in juvenile years, after teething, and
in the period of their changing the first set, or before reason, in
them, teaches the proper choice of food, the quantity, generally
speaking, of whatever kind of food is allowed, is often to be as
much dreaded, as the quality ; especially if those things are given,
which allure the palate ; the consequences of which are if the
times of their allowance are frequent, interrupted and impaired
digestion, from a depraved state of the stomach, loss of appetite,
loathing of simple food; and ultimately general debility and pre-
vention of the regular growth of the body. So long as the func-
tion of the stomach is in good repair, and the natural increase of
the body seems promoted, health may be said to smile on the
subject ; and little is to be feared from the kind of diet, ceteris
paribus, that is used. Then we may imagine, that the proper
action and tension of the vascular system is maintained, giving
energy to the nervous system and solidity to the whole ; render-
ing the person capable of using those exercises of body, which are
suitable to his years, without danger. These, temperately con-
ducted, and not under improper exposure to transitions of dif-
ferent distant gradations of heat, will with suitable cloathing uni-
formly used and applied, be most likely to resist the effects of a
variable climate, and of cold and humidity.
In those constitutions, either in infancy or advanced youth
where appearances of a weakly constitution, as generally remark-
ed


xlvii
ed are obvious, or where there is reason to dread a scrophulous
disposition, or a tuberculous state of the lungs, the food should be
of a nature moderately stimulating, respecting quantity or quality ;
and such as seems adapted for nutrition.
In the pathological view of this subject, we now say nothing ;
we refer to authors, by whom it is a necessary branch of their ob-
ject, to be introduced into their works* : for, during the morbid
state of the lungs, nothing requires more minute heed than the
regimen, or regulation of the non-naturals†, the proper conduct of
which also, has much influence in the predisposition‡.
The
* Reid's Essay ch. 14. May p. 49. Cullen 909, 910, 914.
Those who wish to read what more extensively in a physiological
view need be said on clothing, food, and exercise may consult with
pleasure and advantage a late elegant publication. Medical Ex-
tracts, vol. ii.
† A word including what concerns these six things, air, food,
motion and rest, passions of the mind, retentions and excretions,
sleep and wakefulness.
‡ In præcautionem igitur phthiseos (quæ multo facilior est
quam ejus curatio) plurimum interest dum ægri in hoc valetudi-
nario statu manent, accuratissima utidiligentia, ne ullus in sex re-
bus non naturalibus committatur error ; In hoc enim tam lubrico
sanitatis statu, ā levi aliqua hujusmodi occasione precipites in fa-
talem phtbisin ruere solent. Prudentem delectum cibi & potus
babere oportet, quo succus chylosus reddatur euchymus,-Exer-
citüs moderatis, diutinisque frictionibus quotidue utantur.
Omnibus licitis modis Aeger curas, moestitiam, omnemque fixam
cogitationem (quantum in se est) sedulò deponat, animumqué sibi
hilarem nitatur conciliare, phthisin enim pulmonarem a pathe-
matis animi diuturnis et gravionbus ortum suum duxisse saepe notavi
-Verum a novo frigore percipiendo apprime cavendum.
-Omnis novus Catarrhus in Phthisin tendet, atque hinc
illæ


xlviii
The subject OF EXERCISE deserves here to be noticed amongst
others ; without the benefits of which, no age can long subsist in
right health, or youth, particularly in strength ; properly used, it
adds bloom and vigour to the body, and alacrity to the mind.
Of indolence, of toil
We die ; of want, of superfluity.
To the active child of eager, willing disposition, whose imagi-
nations often over-top the bounds which his corporeal powers
may justly allow, whose constitution perhaps is tender, and whose
muscular texture is not firm, the hours of exercise should not
produce fatigue ; and though in the open air, only in this climate,
permitted during the temperate hours of the day : too early ex-
posure to morning air, is not ever commendable, and the evenings
should be devoted early to sleep.
Let him
Begin with gentle toils ; and, as the nerves
Grow firm, to hardier by just steps aspire*.
When the season or weather will not allow exercise in the open
air, such indulgence may be formed in a spacious well aired
room, according to the manners which are well known for this
purpose.
As
illæe læchrymae. Sed proh dolor ! Medici rarissime de praecavendo
hoe morbo consuluntur, (quum in principio forsan non minùs
quàm âlii affectus, curari possit, etsi morâ ut plurimūm fatalis)
Aegris raro Æsculapü opem petentibus, priusquam morbus jam in
fatalem statum prolapsus sit, ubi incassum ab arte medica exspectan-
tur miracula, cum de animae futura salute, et testamentis faciendis,
Theologum, et Jurisperitum consulere magis conveniat.
Phthisiologia, Morton p. 78, 79, 80, 87.
* Armstrong loc. cit. b. ʒ. l. 180.


xlix
As soon as young persons of the above description, are capaci-
tated for it, they should be allowed to ride on hone back, one of
the most beneficial modes of exercise, for whilst in moderate
health, it invigorates the whole frame by the action of the solids,
promotes the wholesome secretions, delights and engages the mind,
and increases the digestive powers. In those, when tubercles of
the lungs are formed, if riding promotes no cough, it is beneficial;
if so, or there is any inflammatory signs, it must be avoided ; but
the management of exercise of various kinds, depends upon the
particular condition, form, circumstances and state, of each indi-
vidual.
In case of disease or accident, and especially to the infirm, it
may be useful to see the following arrangement of modes of ex-
ercise, according to their degrees*.
1. Agitation from rocking in a cradle, the resilient motion
of a plank of wood, or elastic seat of the exercising chair.
2 Swinging, as seated in a chair attached to a properly sus-
pended rope.
3 Sailing on water, or the sea, in a boat or ship.
4 Riding in a carriage.
5 Reading or speaking aloud.
6 Riding on horseback.
7 Walking.
8 Leaping.
9 Running.
The motion of what children call the see-saw, when seated on the
ends of a balanced plank of wood, is similar to the first and se-
cond ; the utility of which last, the reader may see commended in
consumption, in a treatise by Dr. Smith.
One observation made relative to reading and speaking or the
exercise of the organs of respiration, merits to be introduced here,
and attended to, so as to be confirmed or condemned by experience;
because
* From the Disputatio inauguralis de Exercitatione auctore
Jacobo Dittmar. 


l
because it militates against a contrarily received, and much es-
tablished opinion.
The lungs when debilitated, derive equal benefit with the
limbs or other parts of the body from moderate exercise. My
enquiries led me to attend more particularly to the following
facts:-1. Those persons who have been early instructed in
vocal music, and who use their vocal organs moderately through
life, are seldom affected by an hœmorrhage from the lungs. 2.
Lawyers, players, public cryers, city watchmen all of whom ex-
ercise their lungs either by long, or loud speaking, are less affected
by hœmoptysis, than persons of other occupations*.
There is a caution, which we ought perhaps, to have inserted
before, in its more appropriated place ; but those who are attached
to the idea we have endeavoured to obviate the error of, that ex-
posure to cold from infancy is the way to render children hardy,
and habituated to bear cold, will apply it here: we mean that
which is necessary against the indiscriminate use of the cold bath ;
under the general opinion of its being a bracer, and the constant
and daily washing the body of infants universally, who are of a
weakly habit with cold water. To those, and especially such as
are of a scrophulous or phthisical disposition, we hesitate not to
say, it is prejudicial ; and has been attended with dangerous, and
increased debilitating consequences: probably by care and its
aids, those who are of a tender frame as they advance in age, or
after puberty, may acquire such a degree of firmness of health and
vigour, as may endure the use of such means, and derive benefit
from them, if entered upon with caution and not too often used.
The prudent even in every moderate walk
At first but saunter ; and by flow degrees
Increase their pace.
Hence against the rigors of a damp cold heaven
To fortify their bodies, some frequent
The
* Medical Observations and Enquiries, v. i. p. 134, by Dr.
Rush.


li
The gelid cistern ; and, where nought forbids,
I praise their dauntless heart : A frame so steel'd
Dreads not the cough, nor those ungenial blasts
That breathe the Tertian or fell Rheumatism ;
The nerves so temper'd never quit their tone,
No chronic languors haunt such hardy breasts.
But all things have their bounds* :
The reasons which support those observations, are to be un-
derstood from the effects which a much inferior degree of heat
applied to the surface of the body has ; abstracting heat from
this, and thus it is irritability : whence, a cessation of the usual
action of the capillary arteries of the body takes place for a
time, with which the system of other vessels interiorly sympathize.
This temporary abatement, allows time for the constitution to
recover or accumulate its irritability again, which is thus more
easily affected by ordinary stimuli, so that a feeble degree of heat
will then produce active effects, a rapid and unusual exertion
in the interior system of vessels is caused, whence, a greater
quantity of blood is transmitted to the exterior vessels again,
warmth and floridity of the skin ensues, and thus vigour is given
to every action in the frame‡. But if there is primarily, a defi-
ciency of strength or irritability in the frame, paleness, coldness,
G and
* Armstrong loc: cit. B. ʒ. l. 29l.
‡ In warm weather, when there is an accumulation of heat,
on the external vessels, and of course through the whole frame,
too great for the healthy degree of excitement to continue long ;
the progress to indirect debility is retarded by diminishing the
excitement from time to time, thus giving more action to sti-
muli ; hence the cold bath in hot summer weather, diminish-
ing excessive heat, restore the proper stimulant temperature.
Brown's Elements, 37, 39.
See the observation in the sequel, in the note added to the
principal causes of catarrh.


lii
and languor succeed, after the application of cold, the person
feels enfeebled, and irregular sensations of heat affect him.
Bathing in a cold spring of water, where the heat is but 48°.
of Fahrenheit's thermometer, much disagrees with the debilitat-
ed, for they cannot bear to have heat, and the irritable princi-
ple diminished ; such may nevertheless be benefited by a tepid
bath, or one, in which the degrees of heat are not many below
that of the human body. This, would, ultimately prove in
common language a strengthener, and by gradually increasing
both the time of staying in such baths, as well as decreasing the
degree of heat in them, the salutary effects they are designed
for, may be obtained, and the delicate frame rendered less liable
to be injured, by the unavoidable exposure which is occasional-
ly incidental, in this climate.
It may here be expected, that we should offer some observa-
tions on the different parts of this kingdom, so as to point out
such situations as are most favourable to the Phthisical, or to those
disposed to it ; but what we could say respecting this, would
be mostly conjectural in reasoning from the analogy, which we
should find more or less to prevail in temperate climates. Those
who have been afflicted with Phthisis in the northern parts of the
Island we have known benefited by removal to southern and
so-western parts, where the air is milder.
There may be some suspicion raised in the mind, that we
sometimes err, in sending the Phthisical of the florid habit, to
those places where the air has been reckoned pure ; if a late
theory which has much reason on its side is well founded *: and
this quotation may serve to support such a doubt.
The pnilanthropic Jonas Hanway was a very great advocate
for warm clothing. Being in a decline, he was ordered by his
Physicians to the south of France : but some very urgent busi-
ness
* Opus est si vires patiuntur, lunga navigazione, cœli muta-
tions sic, ut densius quam id est, ex quo discedit œger, petatur.
Ideoque aptissime Alexandriam ex Italia itur. Celsus l. ʒ. c. 22.


liii
ness calling him to visit Holland, in the moist air of that country
he speedily recovered, and remarks that the Dutch are free from
this dreadful calamity, which he attributes partly to the air, and
partly to their warm method of clothing. Those consumptive
patients, in a note to the preceeding, Dr. Thornton adds, whom
we hurry off to the clear air in the south of France the French
physicians, on the contrary, order to the foggy air of Lyons. As
they cannot both be right, and as the Hot-Wells favours the
sentiments of the latter, being near a great town, where innu-
merable works are carrying on, and situated on the borders of
marshy ground, and a river the most choaked up with mud of
any in the world, there is some probable grounds, for doubting
of the justness of our prevailing practice*.
And, from some late observations which have been made,
it does not appear, that those who live in such situations, as are
deemed to have a purer air than others, are more free from Phthi-
sis than those who live in the former§.
How different are such ideas, to those which Morton enter-
tained, when he mentions amongst the causes of Phthisis, a
dense and marshy atmosphere, replete with the smoke of coals,
vitiating the animal spirits, as necessary to the right fermentation
of
* Medical extracts, v. ii. p. 270.
§ Letters from Dr. Withering, &c. p. 13. Where, the idea of
the prevalent opinion, that workmen employed about limekilns,
do not become consumptive is mentioned ; and that such people,
as are employed in occupations which require them to breathe
an atmosphere impregnated with animal effluvia, as butchers
and makers of catgut, are also observed generally to be free from
that disease. See also, what is said on the relief which some con-
sumptive cases have received by breathing the air of cow-houses,
" in a short account of the nature and properties of different
kinds of airs, by R. Pearson, M.D. p. 18.


liv
of the blood, thus debilitating and causing infractions of the
lungs*.
" It is an opinion entertained by many persons conversant in
" the history of medicine, that certain diseases are now much
" more prevalent, and certain others less so, than formerly : some
" indeed, that made great havoc in this island centuries ago, have
" now totally disappeared. These variations have been imputed,
" and with great appearance of probability, to the entire change
" that has taken place during the lapse of ages in almost every
" circumstance of the manner of living. But in many instances
" we are not able to fix upon the particular alteration to which
" the introduction or the extirpation of any given disease is to
" be ascribed ; and still less can we precisely determine the effect
" of the alteration upon the functions of the living body. If it
" be true, however, as so many medical practitioners believe,
" that consumption is now much more frequent, it is easy accord-
" ing to my system, to understand whence this has happened.
" The inhabitants of this country, almost without exception,
" breathe a freer and purer air than their ancestors. Nor do I
" believe that there is any particular in which the difference be-
" tween the present and some past generations, is so remarkable.
" You see then that the subjects of our Edwards and our Henrys,
" and of good queen Bess may have found, in being more free
" from so formidable a disease than their delicate and airy posteri-
" ty, some compensation for the confined air and filth in which
" they passed their existence‖."
The
* Phthisiologia,-p. 69. and orders amongst his precautions,
Aere utatur aprico, perflatili, benigno, et a sumum carbonum
libero-which besides other advantages-etiam pulmonibus jam
continua tussi calefactis pacem (aliquatenus saltem) conciliare
possit. p. 79.
* Beddoe's letter to Dr. Darwin p. 20, The following com-
munication may aptly be propagated here, " My case contains 


lv
The reader will observe the allusion which is made to PNEU-
MATIC MEDICINE, the advantages of which the author does not
know from experience; his expectations of them are only drawn
from the perusal of those publications which have lately appear-
ed upon that subject, and which announce the use of different
kinds of airs, in different diseases of the lungs, and the respira-
tion of a modified atmosphere in consumption, as productive of
the happiest curative success. Many medical characters deserv-
edly bearing the highest reputation, think but slightly of the ef-
fects which are to be produced by the pneumatic practice, yet
as the facts brought forward so far in support of it, are too re-
spectably vouched for to be doubted, tending to shew that the
administration of factitious airs in certain diseases is safe, and
promises advantage to society ; we think it deserves that attention
which is necessary to ascertain its true merits in the scale of
practice ; and as "one agreeable circumstance attends it, that
" different kinds of air may be exhibited to consumptive pa-
" tients, while at the same time they may persist in any plan of
" medicine or diet, which they or their friends for them are
" solicitous to pursue, without interfering with the remedy
" which is applied to the seat of the disease, and the ulcerations
" of the lungs *."
The
" nothing that seems to me applicable to your theory. The sole
" inferences to be drawn from it are, that in the florid consump-
" tion a change of air from the sea shore to an inland and moun-
" tainous situation is highly useful ; and that the hectic paroxysm
" on it's approach, may be prevented by the swing ; in some in-
" stances, and by exercise on horseback in still more, to which last,
" persevered in with a degree of punctuality that is not com-
" mon, I chiefly impute my recovery." Letters from Wither-
ing, &c. p. 35.
* Letter from Dr. Darvin. 


lvi
TUBERCLES are considered by Dr. Cullen as one of the most
frequent and dangerous causes of phthisis*; and describes them
as certain small tumours having the appearance of indurated
glands, at first indolent in their state, but which at length be-
coming inflamed, are changed into little abscesses which break-
ing, pour their matters into the air cells of the lungs ; whence
purulent expectoration, and one foundation of phthisis is derived.
In the third chapter of Dr. Reid's Essay a more particular ac-
count of them may be seen ; he does not suppose them to origi-
nate from diseased lymphatic glands †, attributing them to ob-
structions in the exhaling vessels, from viscidity taking place in
the exhaled lymph. Such as we have seen, were small hardened
substances, appearing to be less vascular than other parts con-
tiguous having a whitish appearance, similar to a deposition of
coagulable lymph.
A tuberculous state of the lungs may happen in early infancy,
though rarely ; the attack of phthisis generally from them, hap-
pens at the same period which Cullen assigns for hoemoptysis‡ :
and on the same kind of habit, though with less marks of the
exquisitely formed sanguine temperament. They may be found
in
* First lines 876, 898, 905, 906. Morton p. 95.
† Page 21, " There is no absolute criterion by which we
" can determine, when they are first formed in the lungs. They
" are to be suspected, when the cough is violent ; continued
" with short intermission, particularly at night ; and viscid
" phlegm is expectorated with difficulty." p. 30. Cruikshank
says sometimes, but rarely, the glandsof the absorbents are with-
in the substance of the lungs. p. 128. On the anatomy of the
absorbent vessels the theory which Morton gives relative to the
production of tubercles has much of similarity in it to Dr.
Reid's. De sïguis diagnosticis phthisiologia p. 93. & seq.
Morton.
‡ Loc. cit. 887. 


lvii
in the lungs of many who have never been distressed with pul-
monary complaints to any great degree, nor have become phthi-
sical. Some have lived from youth to advanced age, when sup-
posed to be affected with them, having had throughout their
life, daily in summer and winter, an habitual cough, with
difficult respiration and a sense of weight in the chest ; yet by
attention to their conduct, they have, as Morton says, without
medical aid, kept themselves free from danger; being content
rather to live afflictedly than medically*.
The author of the elements of medicine says that where tu-
bercles have been suspected, in those who have died of confirm-
ed consumption, they have not upon dissection after death been
found†. But their frequency upon this same evidence, is incon-
trovertible, whether they are or not, when found, as he asserts,
only an effect and not a cause.
The existence of tubercles, has been generally suspected most
in the scrophulous disposition, and been imagined to be a scro-
phulous affection of the lungs ; there seems to be, in those in
whom they prevail, the same constitutional marks of flaccidity,
debility, and delicacy, as in scrophula. They are sometimes
dispersed by the efforts of nature, before they come to an inflam-
ed state ; but yet in the attempts at resolution of them, by any
artificial means, the analogy between them and scrophula affords
little guide to our endeavours towards success‡.
Where they are suspected, by the symptoms we have practically
detailed, and by those which the medical reader may more mi-
nutely find in the authors we have referred to ; we should ever
endeavour as much as possible to prevent their inflammation :
by instituting a moderate diet, avoiding all local irritations
caused by excessive exertions of the respiratory organs, as vio-
lent running, or other exercise, unfavourable postures of body,
or
* Phthisiologia Morton p. 215.
† § 236. Note r.
‡ Cullen's first lines 907. 


lviii
or whatsoever may diminish the capacity of the chest, using a
proper clothing in spring and winter, such as may obviate the
imprudent application of cold to the body, and maintain an
equable distribution of fluids, on the surface, avoiding whatso-
ever may produce catarrh, as sudden transactions from cold to
heat.
The contagious nature of phthisis has been disputed by some and
maintained by others. Morton places it amongst his procatarotic
causes*. Cullen says he has hardly seen one case which could
appear to have arisen from contagion ; and thinks that in warmer
climates it may be more discernable than here†. Reid‡ does not
altogether confirm it, but thinks, in the last stages of the disease
the purulent exhaled particles, conveyed by the breath, should be
avoided by the young ; who should not be much about the sick,
or suffered to sleep in the same bed or even in the same chamber.
Dr. Beddoes says, that under the various kinds of treatment of
phthisis which yet has been used, the patients at length submit
to fate ; and that generally, with many of their relations by heredi-
tary disposition, or with their nearest friend by contagion§.
We
* Contagium etiam hunc morbum propagat. Hic enim affectus
(uti frequenti experentia observari) lecti focios miasmate quodam,
sicutifebris maligna, inquinat. Loc. cit. p. 70.
† Loc. cit. 886. ‡ Essay chap. 15.
§ " I believe both these consumptions (one which begins with
slight hœmoptoe, and which is generally seen in dark-eyed people
With large pupils ; and the other which commences without
hœmoptoe, and which is generally seen in light-eyed people with
large pupils. The former of which is generally hereditary with-
out any appearance of scrophula ; and the latter with appearance
of scrophula in the present, preceding or third generation up-
wards. This attacking people of all ages ; the other commencing
more


lix
We can from observation confirm this ; and in one family, the
fact was particularly established.
We may readily allow the probability of this, even without
hereditary disposition ; and how much more so with it : if we may
be allowed to suppose that whatsoever induces debility, forms
a remote cause of phthisis especially if there is any tendency
to scrophula. A sedentary life therefore, in warm rooms, expos-
ed to a vitiated quality of the atmosphere, where the sick breathe
and sleep, must needs promote that ; aided by the effect of watch-
ing and depressed state of the mind : subject to continual anxiety,
from the interest which the attendant is most likely to take in the
fate of a relative or friend. Therefore, rightly has Morton rank-
ed amongst the procatarctic causes, affliction of the mind, intense
attention and thought*. Under which state the application of an
exciting cause, may produce those incipient effects, which being
attached, pave the way to the direst morbid condition.
OF CATARRH. Morton enumerates a catarrhal disposition
amongst the diagnostic signs of phthisis ; in which, the person
from the slightest occasions, or scarcely without any evident cause,
is frequently subject to a cough.
H Catarrh
more certainly between seventeen and twenty-seven years of age)
" to be infectious, to those who sleep with such patients in the
" last stage of the disease ; as I have observed a husband in two
" cases begin to be diseased soon after the death of his wife ; and
" in one a wife, who became consumptive soon after the death
" of her husband ; in all which cases there was no reason to
" suspect hereditary predisposition."
Dr. Darvin's Letter to Dr. Beddoes.
See Cruikshanks loc. cit. 178, who supports the opinion of this
contagion.
* See depressing passions in the sequel. 


lx
Catarrh, is only an inflammatory affection of that part, which
is called the mucous membrane of the Trachea and Brouchia*,
is not disposed to suppuration ; or if so, simply of itself, it readily
heals : can only tend to produce phthisis, in those who are pecu-
liarly predisposed. The degrees of it, are various, according to
the force of the causes. It is an affection to which every one
may occasionally be liable, but the young, the tender and deli-
cate, and those born of parents, who have been much subjected
to it are more so than others ; from whence it has been deemed
an hereditary complaint. Others, without any parental lapse of
this kind, are prone to it from mal conformation of the chest,
and such a form as we have described†. Those, also, who have
been afflicted with it, become often habitually so disposed ; espe
cially if former affections have left any tuberculous complaint on
the lungs.
The principal causes to which it has been attributed, are cold
applied under certain circumstances, whilst the body is in a heat-
ed state ; exposure to heat after cold ; and contagion*.
When in a violent degree, it may be combined with inflam-
mation of some other part of the chest ; and when neglected, as
often it is, under the common opinion, of a cold, it leads, as
frequent experience has made known, in the phthisical habit,
to the most dangerous consequences : the symptoms of which,
it is not in our province to delineate. Under such impressions, let
not
§ The windpipe and it's branches the air vessels of the Lungs.
† Dessertatio inauguralis G. Fordyce.
§ Upon the principles which are alluded to, respecting cold-
bathing and the glow which ensues, on being exposed to a supe-
rior degree of heat, after experiencing an inferior application of
it. If the degree of warmth therefore, after this, was great, in-
flammation would be the consequence. The experiencing of an
extraordinary and continued glow after the use of bathing, is not
so beneficial as has been usually thought by many. 


lxi
not the patient unaware of his danger, be lulled into a fa'al se
curity ; fancying his complaint, what may easily be removed by
simple remedies, let him not trust, only, to nostrums and do-
mestic remedies ! it is of the utmost consequence that the disease
should be ascertained, and distinguished in it's true nature ; for
if it is simply catarrh no alarm need be given : and to suffer it
to be treated only as such, if the tendency is phthisical, is cruel,
and can only be done so by ignorance*.
It is, from catarrhous complaints having been mistaken by the
gnorant for phthisis, or designedly called so, by the crafty, that
they have often arrogated to themselves the merit of having
cured consumption‡. It cannot therefore, be too strongly im-
pressed upon the minds of young people, as well as those who
have the care of them, that a cough merely the consequence of
a cold, usually ceases of itself, in eight or ten days ; if it con-
tinues longer, danger attends its causing phthisical symptoms ‖:
regard being made to the degree of the symptoms ; affecting
with fever, pain, difficulty of respiration, cough, expectoration
and the former state of the lungs. For, if not timely removed,
it nourishes to itself it's own evils, by symptoms, aggravating
symptoms.
Let not those, in whom there is fullness, with debility, who
are easily affected with the symptoms called a cold ; be heedless
of it, merely, because they flatter themselves they have had more
serious affections of the kind with impunity before ; thus sooth-
ing the alarm of their friends, when caution ought to be the
alert guardian which should enforce it's sanative care and rules.
Whatever reasoning we may make use of, to prove the mode
of action of the causes on the system, a matter which it is now
irrelevant to our purpose to enter into, we are convinced of the
fact
* Cullen 856, 889, and seq. Reid 55. and seq.
‡ Letters to Darwin by Beddoes, p. 52.
‖ Letters &c. p. 11. 


lxii
fact ; respecting the injury which is entailed upon multitudes
from this source*.
The degree of painful suffering, which phthisical patients are
supposed to have comparatively with other diseases of an acute
nature, rapid progress, and early termination, is generally ima-
gined to be less than in these ; though the lungs are supplied
copiously wirh nerves, but the vital organs, those of involun_
tary motion, do not, under many injuries, convey to the mind
those impressions which are similar to those experienced in parts
subject to volition ; and many parts insensible in health, become
painful when under inflammation. The degree of pain exper-
ienced in the chest, in phthisis, is to be compared with the cause
and degree of inflammation there. In the suppurated and ul-
cerated state of the lungs, little sensation of pain is excited ;
though, before it might be acute. In some the progress is slow,
and the pain from the first more obtuse ; generally, from the
first commencement of the disease, some stitches are felt in the
fore part of the chest, or sides, augmented by troublesome cough
and posture. The former continuing and increasing, becomes,
often incessant, violent, hard and dry, with pains in the side
more sharply distinguished and fixed ; whilst the respiration is
quick and difficult, particularly in higher degrees of inflamma-
tion,
* We have in our poetical part, only mentioned one cause,
agreeably to common opinion, of a sudden transition from a
heated apartment to a cold atmosphere, as exciting catarrh, and
inflammation of the lungs &c. yet we believe, that the same
change from cold external air, to that more heated, is as often
to be blamed. The reasoning in favour of each, cannot here be
indulged in, contrasted opinions may be read in Cullen's first
lines 1046, and seq. and the Elements of Medicine by Brown
and preface to Beddoes, edition p. 26, and 407. seq. see also
Dissertation on simple fever by Dr. Fordyce, p. 135, see Exer-
cise and Transitions. 


lxiii
tion, and from hæmoptic causes. But, when the disease pro-
ceeds in a catarrhous form, exciting tubercles to inflammation
it is often more insiduous in its progress, and often little attend-
ed to by the patient. By degrees, the hectic fever is established ;
when ease is destroyed, by the daily succession of symptoms,
which, with little intermission harass the hours of night and day.
When woes the waking sense alone assail ;
Whilst night extends her soft oblivious veil,
Of other wretches care the torture ends :
No truce the warfare of my heart suspends!
The night renews the day distracting theme
And airy terrors sable ev'ry dream.*
In the advanced stages, the cough is performed with more
ease ; and the degree of pain which afflicted any part of the chest,
being diminished, attention to it is scarcely excited. Such an
acquired ease, now, becomes a source of delusion to the hopeful
mind ; and affords a flattery, which often accompanies the sick
person through most stages of the disease, that the danger is abat-
ing, and he has a good fouudation to expect a cure. It has be-
fore been remarked†, that the consumptive are particularly in-
genious in accounting for every accession of fever, or increase of
any other symptom ; and as readily attribute their remission, to
the effects of some remedy which they have taken, by the advice
of their physician or their friends : for in this, most people who
visit them know an efficacious remedy. Thus, to the last, do
the phthisical go on to hope a favourable event, and really suffer
less than their afflicted relations, who observe, a favorite, wasting
by an unconquered disease, yet elevated by hope, and unconscious
of danger whilst tending quickly to sepulchral destiny. The
reflection on which state awakes
A
* Pope's Homer B. 20. l. 98.
† By Dr. Reid, see Eff. p. 11. and 13. 


lxiv
A SENTIMENT.
When sweetly life on easy pinion glides,
And little pain arrests from incidents ;
A dolent sting the sudden shock betides;
Deep tortures rise with unforseen events.
Whilst those, who on the turbid billows sail
Of adverse fate-whose days are pain and care,
See lesser evils float, along life's gale,
And pass unnotic'd, midst the vital fare.
But thou, oh time ! great arbiter of deeds!
Whose hands, oblivion's boundless cup can give !
Canst soothe the anguish of a mortal's heeds !
We quaff the dream, and tranquil hearts receive.
Sweet balm ! from there, the kindly bliss I greet,
And praise the healing draught that brings such rest ;
But whilst a present pang thou would'st delete,
I wou'd not have the cause, from thought suppress'd.
Let those imbibe the lov'd quiescent stream,
Who woo forgetfulness of anxious grief;
Then lose a name I lov'd, by mem'ry's dream,
I'd rather live still vacant of relief.
Whilst the best means we have in our power are made use of,
in combating the disease, so as to palliate and alleviate, we cannot
perhaps, but with cruelty, do away the firm persuasion which the
mind indulges in, of health being recovered ; and that delusive
enjoyment which is cultivated by the phthisical that yet they may
live to perform the enterprizes which enter the imagination.
For such a belief, physically speaking of the human mind, ought
not to be destroyed ; whatever morality and religion may urge :
and medically, we know the vast utility which confidence gives
toward


lxv
towards support under and recovery from disease. An easy and
amused reflection, is at all times a desirable object ; the allowance
therefore, of what promotes such aid, and adds to its pleasure is
worthy of being permitted. The DEPRESSING PASSIONS de-
stroy at all times vigour of body, their force therefore must be
particularly felt by the diseased and debilitated frame. In the
degree of health which the delicate constitution possesses, their
impression, especially upon those possessing much sensibility of
mind, exerts an inordinate power ; and if long continued, are most
perniciously destructive to the body. It might well then be said
that
" Love, hope, and joy, fair pleasure's smiling train,
" Hate, fear, and grief the family of pain ;
" These mix'd with art, and to due bounds confin'd,
" Make and maintain, the balance of the mind.*"
Afflictions of the mind have been reckoned amongst the remote
causes of phthisis, as Morton mentions†, and Bennet before him‡.
If a due action of a stimulus maintains health and strength,
whatsoever destroys that, tends to induce general derangement
and debility ; which may be acted upon, by causes exciting mor-
bid symptoms. Hope seems to be the most grateful stimulant to
the
* Pope's Essay on Man, Ess. ii. l. 117.
† Causæ procatarcticae, seu primam ansam huic morbo prae-
bentes, sunt 2°. Pathemata animi graviora, præcipue vero metus
tristitia iracundia, cogitatio nimia, et nimis anxia, uti et studia
intempesttava, et nimis longæ, cum aliis hujusmodi. l. 2. cap. i.
‡ Animi moeior, unde spiritus dejicitur et vis tabifica altius
imprimitur.
Unda lacusque nocent, et causa valentior istis,
Anxietas animi.
Tabedorum theatrum, 98. 


lxvi
the mind, and therefore Theognes the greek poet, metaphorically
deifies it, as one of the greatest benefits which remain on earth*.
The operation of the passions upon the mind, has been felt by
every one comparatively ; but their mode of impressing the body,
can be little described or accounted for. The idea we have, is
that they all act according to the range they have, in proportion
of stimulus, on the excitability of the body ; the degrees of which,
we know are various in different persons. For, as the celebrated
author who has presented the world with strictures on some of
Dr. Browne's doctrines†, says, " The excitability therefore, is
" exhausted by any passion or perturbation, in the same manner
" as by excessive excitement in other cases. Whether temporary
" weariness, or irreparable debility shall ensue, depends upon the
" intensity and duration of the exertions, made by the organs in
" action." This latter writer, reckons deficiency of passion,
as sadness, grief, fear, terror and despair, only as inferior degrees
of gladness, confidence, and hope ; implying a diminution of ex-
citing passions. There is a necessary degree of passion, which
acts on the body as other stimuli, either in excess, in due, or in
defective proportion. The proper action of the mind, and en-
ergy of passion, or emotion is to be ranked with those stimuli,
which tend to produce an equalization of excitement over the
whole system.
If any passions are sedative, it is by their long continuance,
inducing direct debility, from the absence of sufficient stimulus ;
or indirectly so, from the violence of their immediate application,
destroying by forcible stimulus the excitability. That debility
however
* Spes ìnter homines sola dea bona est :
Alii vero dii in coelum, nos relinquentes ablerunt.
Sentetiae Theognidis.
† Preface to the translations of his elements, clviii. Also Ele-
ments § 279, 311, 21, 138 to 144.


lxvii
however, does ensue in the body from affections of the mind, is
an effect we cannot deny, however, we may pretend to reason on
the subject. Intense thinking upon one object is at first attended
by great excitement of the whole system, as thinking in general
affects the brain.
Hence different passions more or less inflame,
As strong or weak the organs of the frame ;
And hence one master passion in the breast,
Like Aaron's serpent swallows up the rest*.
The long continuance of thought, wastes the excitability or
vital powers, whence diminished energy takes place in the body,
A galling circumstance to human pride !
Abasing thought, but not to be denied !
With curious art the brain too finely wrought,
Preys on herself, and is destroy'd by thought,
Constant attention wears the active mind,
Blots out her pow'rs, and leaves a blank behind†.
The addition of further motives for disappointment and fear per-
petuate their loss and produce all those symptoms which indi-
cate impaired strength ; the appetite for food becomes depraved,
and the supplies of nutriment are defective and cut off. Thus
does a dejected mind produce languor of body, and
Hence the lean gloom that melancholy wears
The lover's paleness-
Oft from the body, by long ails mistun'd
These evils sprung the most important health,
That
* Pope's Essay on Man, Ess. ii. l. 131.
† Epistle to Hogarth by Churchill.


lxviii
That of the mind destroy : And when the mind
They first invade, the conscious body soon
In sympathetic languishment declines*.
Oye, whose souls relentless love has tam'd
To soft distress, or friends untimely slain !
Court not the luxury of tender thought ;
Nor deem it impious to forget those pains
That hurt the living, nought avail the dead,
Go soft enthusiast ! quit the cypress groves,
Nor to the rivulet's lonely moanings tune
Your sad complaint†.-
So shall you escape that state of mind which produced an
EVENING'S VAGARY.
Tranquility, with ease, a twin-form'd birth,
In Eve's dim mantle cover'd far the earth ;
When from her loved, led Amanda's way,
And as from him she sped, so pass'd the lucid ray.
She sigh'd-how diff'rent art thou, Eve, to me !
My heart estrang'd to thy serenity !
Soft falls the dew, upon the grassy glade,
Where peacefully the shepherd's care is laid,
Whose cravings with satiety repos'd,
For rest-with parting light, their needful toils have clos'd:
Content-but ah ! such ease not dwells with me,
No such calm joys are here my destiny.
The
* Armstrong, b. iv. l. 47. & 134.
† Armstrong, b. iv. l. 145.


lxix
The woodland choristers have sung their lay,
And rest in silence on the leafy spray,
The social red-breast, bard of soft twilight,
Has finished his chanting to the god of night.
Happy-whilst here, no comfort dwells for me,
My heart a tempest 'midst serenity.
The lab'ring steed, now, by the swain is driv'n
To those confines, which to his lot is giv'n ;
His guide with whistling, or with blithsome song
The track accustom'd cheers, whilst slowly pass'd along.
With them quietude joins-and flies from me,
My sole companion, tort'ring destiny.
Frail, is the consolation I wou'd prove,
In the remembrance of once smiling love,
Whose charms have mix'd with disregard's alloy,
And on despair, have wreck'd the bubble of my joy.
Obscur'd as night is now felicity.
The splendid sun of hope, is set with me.
Where do these flattering fancies now abound ?
Which pour'd by plenty were indulgent found ?
Those treasures which delight with fairy wand ?
From expectation's mines oft rais'd at my command ?
Vanish'd-on wings of infelicity,
By magic touch of forward destiny.
Peace to thee, Eve! thy herds, thy plumed train,
And Beings all-who love the air or plain !
Sleep be with those, who at its sway rejoice,
And pleasures of this orb, can hail with happy voice.
She said-with tears, and shook her anguish'd head
Careless for self-with pray'rs for all-from sight she
vagrant fled.
I 2 The


lxx
The greek word ACME, is known by most people to be ap-
plied, to any particular point of time, degree of maturity or per-
fection. It specifies in our poem, the period when the growth
of the body is circumstantially completed in youth.
Hippocrates says, in those of advanced youth, or approaching
to puberty many diseases attend ; fevers and flux of blood from
the nostrils : and that many also, are then terminated. Phthisis,
he mentions as attendant on the years from the eighteenth to the
thirty-fifth of age‡.
This period is effected by the process of Nutrition and
Growth of the body, gradually from it's primary state, by the
powers with which it is endowed. The theory, concerning
which, may be found in the writings of Physiologists. The al-
lusion we have made, is to that taught by the illustrious Cullen
and others ; in order to elucidate it, for those who have not op-
portunities of consulting such authors, we shall attempt to give
a brief sketch of what concerns these subjects.
We know that there is a constant waste and dissipation of the
parts of the body, from the actions which are supported, whilst
the vital principle is attached to the animal and natural functions;
and, that the necessity of reparation of this loss, accompanies us'
whilst this condition subsists : the supplies for which, are derived
from what is taken in by the stomach and lungs, food and air,
elaborated and rendered fit, by the peculiarities of the animal
œconomy, to promote apposition of parts ; giving bulk and vi-
gour to the body, aided by rest, when sleep affords the oppor-
tunity of renewing that loss of excitability, or vital principle,
which is expended by the actions existent in wakefulness.
From minute rudiments, the human body grows to a consi-
derable size. From being of a texture, soft, lax and yielding,
it becomes composed of more firm and hard parts ; some of which
arrive at perfection sooner than others. Of those, the heart is
one
‡ Hippocrate's Aphorism, Sect. 3. Aph. 27, 28, 29. and S.
A. 5. 9. 


lxxi
one of the first, beginning a function which it is to continue, vir_
tually, whilst moral life remains with the body. In the com-
mencement of it's action it is placed centrically with regard to the
surrounding parts. It is, in the fœtal, and infantile state, larger
in proportion to other parts, than what it is in the adult ; in the
former it is also more irritable, and performs more frequent pul-
sations, in a given time, than what it does in the latter. The
blood vessels also, in this state, are not so numerous or yielding,
as in the former, when they are capable of being acted upon, by
the pulsile and distending force of the heart, exerted on all
around it.
Many circumstances concur, to favour the increase of the body
in early life ; a greater quantity of fluids are then formed, than
what is merely necessary to nourish it's bulk : so that the system
may be said to be always in a state of plenitude, though not a
morbid one, owing to the easily dilatability of the vessels. In_
fants take a greater proportion of food comparatively, than adults;
digest it more completely, from it's nature perhaps ; sleep much,
and have little waste from exercise ; all which, whilst the body
increases, is circumstantially not injurious: but as that ceases, dif-
ferent effects may take place, especially in a weakly constitution.
In whatever manner the apposition of parts may be supposed to
take place, the growth of animals we presume, depends upon the
extension of the arterial system, by the powers propelling the
blood ; the chief of which is the contraction of the heart and ar_
teries : it being supposed, that the distending force, acts chiefly,
according to the axis of the vessels ; and therefore, why, they
should increase first in length : that power going from the trunk
to the branches, these are extended, and also the parts with
which they are connected ; to which is carried the nutritious
fluid the blood endowed with all the necessary properties for
nourishment.
But


lxxii
But many conditions retard the velocity of the blood, with
which it is transmitted by the heart‡ ; and these render some
parts more or less exposed to the force of the blood, and lia-
ble to receive a greater quantity than others : so that some
must necessarily arrive at perfection before others, according to
circumstances of the nature of the constitution originally, or
future occurrences.
Thus, the head acquires it's full size, sooner than some other
Parts do their complete bulk, and, as parts are evolved after each
other according to the œconomy of the body, may be understood,
in some measure, the production of the puberty of the sexes, and
the wonderful and sudden increase of the limbs, at the time
when the superior parts cease to increase.
As parts are secreted from the blood, by the peculiar nu-
tritious process, and applied to their purposes, the bulk in-
creases ; those parts which first are perfected, will the soonest ac-
quire a proportionate degree of density, which will resist further
extensions and growth : the blood therefore, meeting with such
an impediment, will be determined with more force and in greater
quantity
‡ That is, accordingly as the part is more or less distant from
the heart ; or the circumstances which refer to the capacity of
the arteries, being enlarged as they are more distant from the
heart ; the frequent flexures of arteries ; angles of the branches
with the trunks ; and junctions of different branches ; retarda-
tion from the viscid texture of the blood : or friction by adhesion ;
resistance given by the weight and rigidity of parts surrounding
the arteries. The gravity of the blood, also, may concur with,
or oppose its motion in the part. So also, may it be impeded,
according as those causes which increase or diminish the action
of the arteries of the part, are applied or removed, as constric-
tion, compression, ligature, position, relaxation or aperture and
resistance of the veins.
Institutions of Medicine, Cullen 170, 177, 178, 295. & seq.


lxxiii
quantity to parts not so completed, the force of the heart, and
quantity of fluids with respect to the whole system, remaining
the same, till the whole system is evolved, and every part of the
solids is, in respect of density and resistance, in balance with every
other, and with the forces to which they are severally exposed ;
so that there can be no further growth, unless some preternatural
circumstances shall happen to arise.
Before each part has arrived at it's permanent state, whilst
some remain lax and yielding, any occasional incrcase of the
distending power, may take place without perceptible injury to
the system ; but as the distending power, and resistance of the
solids come to be nearer balanced, any increase of the former,
may produce a rupture of such vessels as will not readily suffer
extension. We may apply this to account for bleeding at the nose
in young persons, about the fifteenth and eighteenth years of
age; or sooner, according as circumstances may take place ;
while the system is in the full state mentioned, and the force of
the distention is determined to the head ; where, then, the two
powers are most nearly adjusted : resistance augmenting, as the
distending force is applied, rupture of some vessel is likely to
happen ; and most chiefly so in the nose, where the blood vessels
are numerous, and weakly supported upon the internal surface
of the nostrils.
By the accretion of matter secreted by every system of vessels
according to their peculiar œconomy, producing the softest, and
hardest ossified parts, the resistance to the extensile power becomes
gradually augmented ; and as parts are, thus, less ready to be
extended, they perhaps receive less readily any addition than be-
fore ; consequently the more the body grows, the more slowly
does it admit of any additional growth ; more especially since it
is found that whilst the density of the solids increases, the dis-
tending powers by age, becomes less ; the heart moving slower
and more weakly, becomes as well as the vessels less irritable;
therefore


lxxiv
therefore the period must arrive, at which the extensile and unit-
ing powers balance each other.
Another cause, to produce the prevention of further growth,
is, the idea, that during the growth of animals, the arteries are ac-
quiring an increase of density, in a greater proportion than the
veins are at the same time ; for the arteries have always a tendency
to contract their cavities : and that the resistance in the veins, with
respect to the arteries, must be constantly diminishing, the former,
therefore, will receive a greater proportion of blood;* whilst the
arteries in the same proportion will be less extended. Adding also,
to the diminished resistance in the veins, the decreasing power of
the heart, we may comprehend how rigidity of vessels takes place,
and of every fibre in the body, tending to maintain equilibrium
with the extending powers.
It will be, we hope, readily understood from the foregoing, how,
from the energy of the heart, the augmentation to the proper
stature is produced, youth, generally speaking, arriving at this
about the eighteenth or twentieth years of age; but the body is
then still slender, and unlike the adult, in form, and unequal to it
in vigour ; by degrees it increases more, and acquires another form,
becomes more proportioned, and lusty, the chest becoming fuller,
the shoulders broader, bones and muscles larger, and the joints
firmer. We may reasonably judge also, from the decrease of that
power of the heart, how the compression of the larger vessels,
and of the muscular and neighbouring parts upon the smaller
vessels
* This account of the change of the resistances in the arteries
and veins, with respect to one another, is agreeable to the phœno-
mena which shew, that the arteries are larger, and contain more
blood in proportion to the veins in young animals, than in old ;
that arterial hœmorhages occur most frequently in young persons ;
and that congestions in the veins, with hæmorrhages, or hydropic
effusions depending upon such a state, occur most frequently in
old age. Cullen, last. cited. 300. 


lxxv
vessels effects the obliteration of the cavities of these, and how the
rigidity of old age is effected*; the vital power, or excitability,
being also by the actions of the body, exhausted, decay of bodily
strength ensues, and loss of mental faculties. In such progression,
therefore, does the corporeal system proceed, through the morning,
noon, and evening of life. An interesting subject for man to dwell
upon, and such, as we beg may apologize for the farther insertion
of the poet's description:
When life is new the ductile fibres feel
The heart's increasing force ; and, day by day
The growth advances ; till the larger tubes,
Acquiring (from their elemental veins,
Condens'd to solid chords) a firmer tone
Sustain, and just sustain, th' impetuous blood.
Here stops the growth. With overbearing pulse
And pressure, still the great destroy the small ;
Still with the ruins of the small grow strong.
Life glows mean time, amid the grinding force
Of viscous fluids and elastic tubes;
It's various functions vigorously are plied
By strong machinery ; and solid health
The man confirm'd long triumphs o'er disease.
But the full ocean ebbs : There is a point,
By nature fix'd, whence life must downwards tend.
For still the beating tide consolidates
The stubborn vessels, more reluctant still
To the weak throbs of th' ill supported heart.
This languishing, these strength'ning by degrees
To hard unyielding unelastic love,
Thro' tedious channels the congealing flood
Crawls lazily, and hardly wanders on ;
K It
* Conspectus medicinæ theoreticae auctore Jac. Gregory, M. D.
&c. Cap. 22. 


lxxvi
It loiters still : And now it stirs no more.
This is the period few attain ; the death
Of nature : thus (so heav'n ordain'd it) life
Destroys itself ; and cou'd these laws have chang'd,
Nester might now the sates of Troy relate ;
And Homer live immortal as his song*.
We have only in this part of the subject, to add something relative
to HOEMOPTYSIS. Taking for granted, the reasoning which is
applied† to prove the different proportion of the density and
strength, subsisting between the arteries and veins at different ages,
the power of which in infancy and youth, is in favour of the veins,
in adult and more advanced age in the arteries ; the equilibrium
being supposed generally to take place about the thirty-fifth year
of age‡: hence, if plethora happens in the body before that time,
it is supposed to shew itself in the arteries, because of their laxity
and
* Armstrong loc. cit. b ii. l. 516.
† Cullen's first lines, 751 et seq. 766.
‡ " In general it may be observed, that when the several parts,
" of the system of the Aorta (system of the arteries) have attain-
" ed their full growth and are duly balanced with one another,
" if then any considerable degree of plethora remain or arise, the
" nicety of the balance will be between the system s of the aorta
" and pulmonary artery, or between the vessels of the lungs and
" those of ail the rest of the body. And although the lesser ca-
" pacity of the vessels of the lungs is commonly compensated by
" the greater velocity of the blood in them; yet, if this velo-
" city be not always adjusted to the necessary compensation, it is
" probable that a plethoric state of the whole body will always be
" especially felt in the lungs; and therefore, that an hoemorrhagy
" as the effect of a general plethora, may be frequently occasioned
" in the lungs ; even though there be no fault in their conforma-
" tion." Cullen loc. cit. 760.


lxxvii
and debility, rendering them capable of receiving a greater pro-
portion of blood than what an opposite condition in the veins
allows. If so, then, upon the application of any sudden and
violent cause, the distribution of blood may be disturbed, what
is deemed congestion, by some, may take place, and rupture of,
and discharge of blood from the arteries, happen as in Hœmop-
tysis.
The lungs are small, in comparison to the vascular system of
the whole body ; yet their blood-vessels are large, and more nu-
merous proportionately ; containing much blood, the entire
quantity of the system being obliged, after respiration takes place,
to pass through them. They are loosely supported by the neigh-
bouring parts, therefore should they not be in a healthy state,
they may be supposed not capable of bearing an increased impe-
tus of blood, from strong exciting causes, and unable to resist
effects, equally with the vigorous body ; especially in the full
state which is imagined to supervene the growth of the body, or
whilst the density of the veins over balances that of the arteries*.
Those who are of the constitution we have before described,
seldom bear without hoemorrhage the application of sudden and
violent external causes ; if we allow the plethoric state, or mal-
conformation opposing equal and regular distribution of blood,
or " faulty proportion between the capacity of the lungs and the
rest of the body."-They are those, who possess fulness with
laxity and delicacy Those who have suffered from the disease,
or born of parents who have been subjected to it. Those whose
minds are of an active temperament readily affected by violent
passions ; subject to hysterics ; in the time of age chiefly between
the sixteenth and thirty-eighth year. The predisposition should
also be attended to as a circumstance to which our allusions are
ever made ; whether there be malconformation or not, or tuber-
culous state. It is in that, that genuine Hoemoptysis is gene-
rally
* See what is said, in the sequel, on Exercise.


lxxviii
rally traced ; and mostly brought into effect, by taking cold or
other injuries as whatsoever stimulates the sanguine circulation,
or hurries the nervous power. Whatsoever may cause determi-
nation of blood to the lungs, as impediments interrupting cir-
culation in other parts ; or suppressed habitual discharges ; want
of exercise, with full diet, and the abuse of condiments or other
stimulants ; hidden and violent exercise of the whole body, or
particular parts ; or whatsoever violently hurries respiration ;
unfavorable postures of the body, coldness of the extremities and
suppressed perspiration.
An exciting cause mentioned by Cullen, and which we have
used in our poetical part, is external heat ; which he says, even
when in no great degree will bring on the disease in spring, and
the beginning of summer, while the beat rarifies the blood more
than it relaxes the solids, which before had been contracted by
the cold of winter. It may be so, perhaps, if we may be allow-
ed to suppose, that after the cold of winter, the operation of the
effects of spring and warmth are on the human body in some de-
gree as upon animals which have been torpid. The stimulus
of warmth having been defective, the excitability becomes ac-
cumulated, and is susceptible of less stimulus afterwards, to it's
increased irritability. He ranks also, amongst the exciting
causes, a sudden diminution of the weight of the atmosphere,
of which undoubtedly some instances may be brought ; but they
are very rare in our climate. Our bills are not of such a height
as to give cause to that, which Authors have described in ex-
alted situations, from diminished pressure of the air ; nor do we
find, that those who have descended into the lowest depths we
have in mines, &c. find an opposite effect from the pressure.
But, heat and exercise in attaining ascents, may, to the predis-
posed, by hurrying respiration to whom all great efforts of the
kind are hurtful, certainly act as an exciter of hoemorrhagy.
So also, bodily exertions as increasing heat, and when aided also
by 


lxxix
by external heat, as in warm rooms and crowded assemblies may
likewise act-when the blood,
Too much already maddens in the veins:
Such Exercise increases the circulation through all parts ; forci-
bly propels the blood to the extreme vessels ; by which the dis-
charge from the exhalants of perspiration is augmented. Those
-small arterial lengths that pierce
In endless millions the close woven skin.
The velocity of the blood proving, in the first effect a violent
stimulus, by the increase of heat, to the whole frame ; respira-
tion is exceedingly hurried. Hence, it may urge determination
of blood to parts, which otherwise might have remained in an
innocent state ; and if we may be allowed to suppose any local
defect, morbid complaint or atony of vessels there to which the
added debility which ensues to the whole frame, from the ex-
hausting effect of much exercise, may contribute, we may easily
conjecture the consequences.
When all at once from indolence to toil
You spring, the fibres by the hasty shock
Are tir'd and crack'd before their nuctuous coats,
Compress'd, can pour the lubicating balm.
Besides, collected in the passive veins,
The purple mass a sudden torrent rolls,
O'erpowers the heart, and deluges the lungs
With dangerous inundation : oft' the source
Of fatal woes ; a cough that foams with blood,
Asthma, and feller Peripneumony,
Or the flow ruinings of the hectic fire*.
We have supposed, under such a state of excitement from
Exercise, the sudden exposure of a predisposed constitution, to
sud-
* Armstrong loc. cit. B. l. 3. 192. 


lxxx
sudden cold, as one means amongst others, of causing the worst
consequences ; not as the only one, because chiefly mentioned;
but as the most coincident with common, and old popular opi-
nion ; and one which truly experience can say has been verily
pernicious to many young people*. A danger which the Poet
whose language we have so frequently introduced energetically
thus cautions against.
Hot from the field, indulge not yet your limbs
In wish'd repose ; nor court the fanning gale,
Nor taste the spring. O ! by the sacred tears
Of Widows, Orphans, Mothers, Sisters, Sires,
Forbear ! No other pestilence has driven
Such myriads o'er the irremeable deep.
Why this so fatal, the sagacious Muse
Through nature's cunning labyrinths could trace :
But there are secrets which who knows not now,
Must, ere he reach them, climb the heapy Alps
Of science; and devote seven years to toil ;
Besides, I would not stun your patient ears
With what it little boots you to attain.
He knows enough, the mariner, who knows
Where lurk the shelves, and where the whirlpools boil,
What signs portend the storm : to subtler minds
He leaves to scan, from what mysterious cause
Charybdis rages th' Ionian wave ;
Whence those impetuous currents in the main
Which neither oar nor sail can stem ; and why
The roughening deep expects the storm, as sure
As red Orion mounts the shrouded heaven*.
One
* Armstrong loc. cit. B. 3. l. 219.
* See what is said on Catarrh, in the preceding part, the last
note on that subject. 


lxxxi
One reason given, accounting for hoemorrhage from the
lungs, from cold or distress of mind, has been from the con-
striction induced on the superficial vessels of the surface of the
body; which preventing the free transmission of fluids there,
determines a great quantity of blood with preternatural impulse
to the internal parts*. To which should be added, the effect
which the stimulus of exposure afterwards to a superior degree
of heat would cause†.
Transitions made suddenly from degrees of heat, to those much in-
ferior, or vice versa, are well known to produce inflammatory
affections ; as in Catarrh or Pneumony‖. And when this hap-
pens in such constitutions as we have pointed out, it is seldom
that it proceeds to a favourable issue ; if a purulent state is not
prevented in the lungs. Besides those causes, there are others,
producing excessive stimulus ; and which favour the effects of
exciting causes. As fullness of blood, produced by inactivity,
or its velocity increased by motion or labour, which affect the
whole system, as well as the lungs; whose structure allows them
to be affected by any shock given to the whole body, causing
distension, and greater determination of blood to them. It is
judged that a wound from Hœmoptysis, or Ulcer, from Pneu-
mony, can only produce Phthisis under particular circumstances
of the constitution‡.
We have introduced certain morning ideas at Rockly, a
small village on the border of the Dawns, about two miles from
Marlborough in Wiltshire, on the left hand of the road from
hence to Swindon ; the residence of the honorable Colonel St.
John :
* Cullen loc. cit. 1047.
† See what is observed relative to cold bathing, and a note at
the end of the subject of Catarrh.
‖ Inflammation of the lungs.
‡ ibid-867. & seq. & 898. 


lxxxii
John : during an abode in whose hospitable mansion, this work
was composed.
In topographical and natural history, this place has been men-
tioned, as remarkable for the accidental and temporary breaking
forth of a spring of water in certain winter seasons, at irregular
intervals of years, accordingly as circumstances and the nature
of the weather happen. It discharges a large quantity of water
for a certain period, and then ceases. It is known by the name
of Hungerbourne. Which circumstance is deemed by the neigh-
bouring people to indicate a dry sequent Summer. It flowed co-
piously last year, whilst the Author was there.
On the Downs, contiguously to Rockly, are left those marks
of antiquity called Barrows. Some of which, are in a very per-
fect state, untouched by the sacrilegious hands of curiosity ;
whilst others have been penetrated and disturbed by the scruti-
nizing hopes of avarice, or antiquarian desire.
The* learned simplicity of the ancient Britons dictated to them
no other kind of funereal monument, than a small hillock of
earth to cover the bodies of the diseased, which they rightly
deemed sufficient to preserve their relics, and to perpetuate their
memory to posterity. How much unlike the desires of many, of
the present age, who strive to heap over their great dead, a super-
fluity of cumbrous ornaments, and proclaim their excellence at
random in pompous epitaphs !
The marble tombs that rise on high ;
Whose dead in vaulted arches lie,
Whose Pillars swell with sculptur'd stones,
Arms, Angels, Epitaphs, and Bones,
These, all the poor remains of state,
Adorn the rich, or praise the great ;
Who while on earth in same they live
Are senseless of the fame they give§.
Our
* From the Beauties of British Antiquity, by John Collinson.
§ Night-piece on Death, by Dr. Parnell.


lxxxiii
Our ancestors used no such vain mementos, and yet their me
mory still lives in the green turf, and in all parts of this island
we view with reverence and delight their unadorned sepulchers.
The name of Barrows, is supposed to be from the Saxon, signi-
fying the receptacle of the hidden dead : they are heaps of earth
thrown up in a conical form, and are sometimes surrounded with
a circle of upright stones, but generally with a shallow trench,
which is the case with those near Rockley. Sometimes the
trench surrounds two or more of them. Such as in different
parts of this Island have been opened, have been found to contain
not only the half burnt remains of the interred, with urns full
of ashes, but also arms, vestments and female trinkets ; as beads,
bodkins, &c. In some have been discovered the instruments
used by the Druids for cutting the mistletoe of the oak: in others
burnt bones of animals ; pieces of hewn stones, swords and pole-
axes.
Northerly from Rockley, and about three miles distant from
the vale, where some of the most perfect of the Barrows in this
neighbourhood remain, upon the Barbury hills, a ridge over-
looking the northern part of Wiltshire, stands the camp called
Barbury ; in the parish of Ogborne St. George : the village of
which, is distant about two miles Eastward of hence, and in
which, are several marks of its antiquity, besides the indications
which some of its rights and privileges, and the holding of cer-
tain courts here, manifest.
That camp stands on one of the western eminences of the
ridge of hills, which run east and west ; and is in some parts
very steep : especially to the north, and west, separating the high
ground or Downs, from the fertile country below. Looking to-
wards which, from this spot, the eye is delighted with the exten-
sive and rich prospect which it enjoys; so different in aspect, to
that which appears when we look back upon the Downs : where,
the scene has a wildness, from the defect of inclosure, in our view-
K ing 


lxxxiv
ing the contiguous, distant and broken, range of hill and vale,
de void of trees. The whole of which extent is dedicated to Pan
and Ceres; affording fine corn-land, and a large tract of her-
bage for sheep. On the other hand, the prospect into Glouces-
tershire and other parts, is, as Collinson says, under the eye like
a map ; as far as the Welsh hills beyond the Severn, whose
lovely prospect would naturally animate the Britons in it's de-
fence, as the Roman's in it's conquests. It is indeed a fine scene
of woods, towns, pastures, rivers and valleys.
Barbury appears to be a Roman entrenchment, is of a circular
form and double ditched quite round ; the inner ditch originally
must have been very deep, in many places now the cavity is
much filled up by the descent of earth; the rampart is still high.
There are two entrances, one upon the east, and another on the
west diameter, which is two thousand Roman feet long*. At
the west, the inmost rampire retires inwards a little to make a
port with jambs eastward, the outer ditch turns round with a se-
micircular sweep, leaving two passages through it obliquely to
the main entrance, like our modern half-moons.
From this encampment, towards the South may he seen ano-
ther Roman camp, on Martinsall Hill ; which is very steep on
some sides. It is conspicuous at a great distance, and is within
sight of all the camps in that country. North-easterly of Bar-
bury, another entrenchment called Lydington may be seen; form-
ed upon a very conspicuous eminence: but whether the work
of the Romans or Danes we do not determine.
In several places on the Downs, are found massy stones, of va-
rious figures and sizes, sometimes in an isolated situation, some-
times in great numbers together as in the way from Rockley to
Abury ;
* The Roman foot being somewhat more than 11 2/1 in English
measure, or 11 I. & 604 pts.


lxxxv
Abury; in some situations they appear as if sited with design,
having some regularity of order; in others quite reversely so:
of some, a very small portion only appears above ground of their
large bulk, others are placed superficially with their rude and
immense size entirely exposed. They are generally called Grey-
Weathers, having their name, probably, from their resemblance
to a flock of sheep at a distance ; which the colour of the mosses
with which they are mostly covered gives. They seem to be of
the same nature as those stones which remain standing at Abury.
and originally composed a part of the Druidical temple there :
their texture is very hard seemingly of the nature of flint with
gritstone.
Having now conducted this part of our design to the limits in-
tended, we leave it, and the whole of our present endeavours, ex-
posed to the view of their Readers. To a distance from the
throne of judgment we retire, (under the tutelage of hope).
waiting the determination of those who take presidency there,
Liberal and generous minds know how to be lenient to imper-
fections ; and an assurance has long ago administred this conso-
lation, That
He's half absolv'd who has confess'd*.
Willing to bear the hand of correction, we ask only that pru-
dence may direct it ; and whilst we supplicate for the absence of
severity, we would commend as a companion for our judges,
Reason.
Equally form'd to rule in age and youth
The friend of virtue and the guide truth†.
INDEX.
* Prior's Alma. Cauti. 2.
† The Apology Churchill. 




INDEX.
*** The Roman Numericals refer to the Preliminary Observations ; the
other Figures to the Poem:
Abury - lxxxv.
Acme - lxx, 79.
Barrows - lxxxii, 93.
Barbury Castle - 94.
Bleeding at the Nose - lxxiii.
Catarrh - lix, lxxxi, 99.
Catching-cold - xxvi, lx, lxxi, 98. See Transitions.
Children, observations relative to - xi,
xii, xix, xx, xxx, xlii, xlv, xlvi, xlviii.
Cheek floridity of - xvi, 10.
Climate change of - xxxvi, 37.
- nature of - xviii.
- in Britain - xxii, xxvi, 36.
- variableness of - xx.
Clothing - xviii, xxix, xxxvi, xxxix. See Flannel.
Cold-Bath - l, lx.
Complexion - viii, ix. See Phthisical form
Consumption - v, 8.
- a cause of - xliv, liv.
- florid - xiv.
- scrophulous- xxxiii.
- varieties of - xv.
Contagion See Phthisis.
Debility in whom xv, 27, 9, 10, 11, 12.
Diet - xxxvi, xliv, 39.
Disposition hereditary - vi, 12.
- advice to those of 36.
Distortion and causes - xi, 11, 12.
Dogmatic


2
Dogmatic principles - 28.
Downs - 92.
Elegies - 16, 68.
Empirical ostentation See Quacks
Evening's vagary, a Poem lxviii.
Exercise - xxxvi. xxxix.
- some effects of lxxix, 80, 81, 96, 97.
- cautions for - 85.
Eyes pearly appearance of - xviii.
- vivacity and expression of xv. 16.
Flannel use of - xxxix, 38.
Female Sex a Constitution in them, assumed
as a pourtrait - xiv. 9, 20.
Florid temperament lii, and note * 54.
Grey Weathers - lxxxv. 94, 95.
Growth of the Body - lxxi, 79.
Heat-external - lxxxviii. 80.
Hectic - v. 8, 100.
Hœmoptic temperament advised 44, 45.
Hœmeoptysis - lxxvi. 99.
Hope - lxv. See Phthisis:
Hungerbourne - lxxxii.
Knowledge and Art, Medical-unsuccessful-
ness of - xxx, 24, 27. and seq.
Living manner of - xviii. xxix, liv.
Lydington - lxxxiv.
Malconformation of the chest - ix, 13.
Martinsall hill - lxxxiii.
Non-naturals - xlvii.
Ogborne St. George - lxxxiii.
Passions depressing - lx, lxv, 51. & seq. 64. & seq.
Phthisis the subject of thePoem mentioned 8.
- definition of - iv.
Phthisis


3
Phthisis in whom alluded to, see Female Sex
- stealthy mode of attack 49.
- frequencyand fatality of xvii, 13, 14.
- scrophulous nature of xviii.
- contagious nature of lviii, 41.
- degree of suffering in lxii, 49, 50.
- hopeful delusion in lxiii, lxiv, 102.
- cure of - xxxv, 27.
- ultimate morbid effects of 100, & seq.
Phthisical form and appearance of those sup-
posed prone to Phthisis x, 9, 10, & note p. 44.
- cautions and advice to 42, 44.
Pneumony - lxxxi, 99.
Pneumatic-medicine - lv, 40.
Predisposition - v. See Disposition and (Phthisical form.
Prophylaxis - xxxv. 35 to 43.
Quacks - xxxiv, 28. 30.
Rockley - xxxviii, 92.
Sea-Voyages - xxxviii, 37.
Seasons favourable or not to the Phthisical
xxxviii, 37.
Sentiment, a poetical - lxiv.
Scrophula - xxxii.
Situations for the Phthisical lxii, 37, 39.
Teeth-whiteness of - viii, 10.
Temperament - 8.
- Sanguine and Phthisical xiii. See Phthsical form (and Female Sex
- of decreased irritability xvi.
Transitions sudden xxxix, lxxx, lxxxi, 98. See Catarrh catch in Cold.
Tubercles - lvi.
- cautions and advice in lxix, 41. 




5
ERRATA
IN THE PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS.
Page Line
3 2 for I hope read it is hoped.
5 - are read be and delete I hope.
6 - will read may.
8 - I will not read the Author.
- me read him.
10 - the Author read him.
4 3 delete we have.
9 - I have done, and for deserving read deserves.
10 for my read the Author's
11 - its read his
16 - whilst I avow that I have often affixed blame to this read whilst
it is avowed that blame has often been affixed to this
17 - I read the Author
18 - I read hi
19 - I am read is
20 - to offer in this part I shall only read to be offered in this part he
can only
21 - I read he
22 - I read he
23 - have been read has been
- I have read he has
- my read his
24 - I read he
6 in the note * for irrestituibiles, though printed as the original
read perhaps inevitabiles
9 7 for in read it
14 4 of the note for phther read plethora
15 note ‖ line 3 for inaugurales read inauguralis
22 | for Augliœ read Angliae
26 5 for renas scentia read renascentia
8 - daudorum read dandorum
27 2 - gluicive read genuine
18 - capellary read capillary
29 2 - irimary read urinary
17 - peridoratory read persperatory
29 after consumption, insert we do not mean
30 7 for irribility read irritability
22 - espicially read especially
not for protenus read protinus
- occurere read occurrere
- necessorium read nessarium
31 1 - Meron read Morton
note - caetesi read caeteri
33 16 deathesis read diathesis
17 1 for reek read reck


6
Page Line
39 26 after substances insert which
- furs insert when, and delete it
40 4 for swarm read warm
24 for pullumonic read pulmonic
41 9 insert † after Gravedo and * after brows
in the note † for caetaerrhous read catarrhous
43 in the note † line 6 for interalaneas read inter laneas
-texturs read textura
-optiame read optima
47 in the note ‡ line 8 for citüs read citubus
51 1 for it is read its
in the note ‡ line 7 for restore read restores
52 4 for thermometor read thermometer
54 1 for infractious read infarctious
56 in the note † line 8 after vessels insert a period, and for the read The
line 10 for siguis read signis
58 8 for procatorotic read procatarctic
in the note * line 2 for experentia read experientia
- observari read observavi
60 18 for * insert §
in the note † for dessertatio read dissertatio
65 line 4 - intempestava read intempestiva
- lougae read louga
‡ line 5 - Tabedorum read Tabidorum
66 in the note * - 2 - ablerunt read abierunt
73 9 for incrcase read increase
76 5 - Nester read Nestor
79 20 - nuctuous read unctous
21 - lubicating read lubricating 
80 5 - * infert † and make the reference to the note similarly


PHTHISIOLOGIA
A
POEM
MISCELLANEOUSLY - DESCRIPTIVE and DIDACTICAL;
IN FOUR
PARTS.
QUIS POTIS EST DIGNUM POLLENTI PECTORE CARMEN
CONDERE, PRO RERUM MAJESTATE, HISQUE REPRRTIS?
LUCRET L. 5. 1.
PART I. 




GENERAL ANALYSIS
OF THE FIRST PART.
Introduction-the Reader requested to prepare his
mind for a subject of a serious nature-A wish to please.
-Address to Candour.-Requital for kindness and cha-
ritable correction desired.-Satisfaction accruing to the
mind in having done what has given pleasure to others.
-Thankful sense of a benefit experienced from lenity.
Address to the amicable.-Abuse of the term, Friend.-
Expectations not always realized.-Sentiments experi-
enced from the attachment to, and cultivation of Poetry.
Deprecation of the sufferings of some of its votaries.-
Fate of Chatterton regretted.-Genius, misery attendant.
Address, consequences effected on the mind, under the in-
fluence of disappointment, instances in the fate and suf-
ferings of some distinguished characters.-Phthisis, the
subject of the Poem, mentioned.-Attentions given to the
character from infancy to more advanced age ; personal
description.-Hope, it's frailty, and reasons.-Character-
istic pourtrait of a phthisical temperament of body and
mind.-Other conditions described, and their dissimilitude.
Others,


2
-Others, and some causes alluded to.-Distortion of the
thorax, and some symptoms attendant on such a preter-
natural state.-Regret descriptively painted for such as
are in this isle the martyrs of Phthisis, it's frailty com-
pared.-Request to the sympathetic.-Elegiac reflections
in remembrance of a sister.-Conclusion of this part of 
the Poem, such as are the objects of Phthisis.


PHTHISIOLOGIA. 
PART I. 
LET now thy mind, with pensive sense be fraught, 
Estrang'd to giddy mirth's fantastic thought, 
Who e'er thou art!—That wilt attention spare, 
To listen to the voice of sober care. 
Expect no sentiment to quell a pain, 
Or jocund touch of laughter-moving strain. 
No off'rings of festivity I bring, 
The language of Melpomene I sing, 
For

4 
For joyless words from utterance descend, 
When mortal mis'ries on the heart attend; 
And piti'd frailties, mingled with life's fate, 
Such as the muse seeks to delineate. 
O! whilst I write with animated will, 
May I this prompter's active hope fulfil!
May others kindly it's exertions greet! 
And may my lines their approbation meet! 
Candour befriend me; as my wants request, 
Come with thy smiles, and sooth my fears to rest!
Thy favours pleaseand—brighten ev'ry day, 
And shed afar, true satisfaction's ray; 
May happiness that bosom long requite, 
Who to another ministers delight! 
Grant, heaven, his soul may never fail to know 
The sweets which he to others shall bestow! 
Who error, may with good intent detect, 
And shall with charity, it's acts correct! 
Oft' have I truly felt the deed repaid. 
Where my poor labours gave a needed aid; 
Or if the effort consolation lent, 
My bosom cheer'd, has felt thy joys—Content;
Or 


5 
Or where my heart a foible has revealed, 
Which amity's soft mantle has conceal'd,
And to oblivion has offence consign'd 
Unwitted act; of the most cautious mind;
Grateful I've plac'd it in memorial care, 
With sense infix'd—which death shall but impair. 
Come ye; who can such mental kindness give; 
Enroll'd in friendship's list—come with me live. 
A Friend!—kind name! to ev'ry good alli'd, 
Yet by the world, alas! how misappli'd! 
Compact admir'd! that mankind implore
And oft' as fancied certainty adore. 
But ask the image for expected aid, 
And see how fast it's painted beauties fade. 
Deaf then to all thy craving of supplies 
It's frigid temper ev'ry help denies. 
A shadow! that approaches seeming grasp, 
Then fleeting flies and quits the wished clasp. 
From earth, a substance much I fear far fled
A barren relic—but in name—now dead. 
Yet shou'd I venture where to seek it's rest, 
Some hope wou'd, Clara, lead me to thy breast. 
Oft'

6 
Oft' have I thrown in humbled thought away
The lyre that so much pleas'd in early day. 
Whose magic nature oft' the heart has warm'd, 
And hours of youth with pleasing transport charm'd. 
When vagrant fancy's flow'ry charms beguil'd 
The sentiment, through fiction's regions wild. 
Still, wou'd I, list'ning to the muse's lore, 
Court her coy arts, and envi'd smiles adore. 
Then rouz'd—go foolish hope—my fear has cri'd 
Success—nor honour—here thy steps betide, 
Forsake thy suit—but still fresh wishes came, 
Which touch'd the bosom with strong fervor's claim. 
All their bewitching influence I prov'd, 
And more the muse's haunts and warblings lov'd. 
O what so dear—so fair to me as thee! 
Applauded sweet of verse and harmony! 
For thee what pleasures wou'd I not resign! 
To cultivate the hope of gaining thine. 
Far be those griefs that once on him* were shed, 
When hope forsook his anxious phrenzi'd head. 
When dark despair true virtue overcame, 
And caus'd the deed which quench'd the vital flame. 
* Chatterton. 
Let

7 
Let Britain blush that truth the tale can tell, 
That he unfriended and scarce known, so fell. 
Be the due meed to genius ever given, 
Genius, the brightest boon of heaven; 
Bright vainly art thou! if thy fire consume
That bud of peace that with thy life should bloom; 
If mix'd with sorrow all thy gifts are made 
The prey of penury's obscuring shade. 
Where hopelessness pours forth th' impressing line, 
And builds an altar at despair's dark shrine. 
Frail reason there a sacrifice is brought, 
Whilst harras'd thought to strongest sense is wrought. 
O thou exalted flame of strength refin'd! 
Thou subtle spirit of the active mind! 
That bearest fancy far on wings sublime, 
O'er skimmest worlds and boundaries of time. 
Celestial largess! giv'n to the soul, 
Too nobly born to bear this world's controul. 
Though doom'd alas! by fortune oft' to prove
The pangs of want, or of despondent love. 
Pangs made more keen—impell'd with deepest woe, 
On minds that most thy greatest favours know. 
Witness

8 
Witness a Petrarch's long and ardent flame; 
Constant his heart—and fair its worth and fame: 
Yet ah! his truth immortally renown'd, 
No blissful compact in this orbit crown'd. 
Cervantes—son of superstitious Spain, 
With courage, sense, and satire in his train. 
No friend, no lib'ral patron strove to save
From want, from prison, or the silent grave. 
Say too, how heart affecting Otway fell, 
Amidst the ills which blameful pages tell. 
Thus hapless bards, whom fickle fortune scorns, 
Apollo's hand with lavish'd gifts adorns. 
PHTHISIS, my theme, thou flow destructive force! 
That canst so oft's health's property divorce. 
Hecti—Consumption—or what name avow'd. 
The world thy deathly power has allow'd. 
That blastest fertile youth's expanding bloom, 
And bring'st it prostrate to it's finite doom. 
'Gainst whom so little human art avails, 
When thy dire grasp the system frail assails. 
'Tis thee, within the mental eye I see, 
Thou murd'rous cat'rer, for our destiny! 
Clad

9 
Clad in that form, and cause unnotic'd yet, 
Such as thy baleful being may beget. 
To speak of thee, I venture this essay, 
And diffidently dare the frame pourtray! 
Which sway'd by thee drifts on to wayward fate, 
And what thou wast and art wou'd personate. 
Bless'd with those cares which tenderness demands, 
Since first thy life breath'd on Lucina's hands. 
Thy form the charms of blooming Hebe bless'd, 
And beauty's animated gifts possess'd. 
By safety nurs'd, pass'd o'er infantile fears
To the bright acmé of thy youthful years. 
Lovely in elegance of mildest air, 
And blandishments—in graceful structure—fair. 
Tranflucid tints throughout thy frame prevail 
Effeminate—and in descent form'd frail. 
Of virgin sex—for this I wou'd now deem
Th'approved object of my destin'd theme. 
Hope—through thy life opinion wou'd allure, 
That ample fruit the blossom wou'd ensure. 
That time thy being wou'd improv'd protect, 
And thus o'ercome the fear'd innate defect.
C But


10 
But to graft vigour vainly we essay 
On that faint stem whose tendence is decay, 
Whose feeble health no energy pervades,
But vacant power each attempt degrades. 
On that weak base which due support denies, 
Who seeks to raise a dome to reach the skies! 
The candid aspect never feign'd to hide 
The minute vessels of the sanguine tide; 
Adorns with dulcet hue the expressive face, 
Whose albid cheeks are bloom'd with crimson'd space; 
As if the pallid rose a carmin'd tinge 
Should the young flower's tenderness impinge. 
Loose flow'd the hair in lengthen'd figure trac'd, 
With ease and freedom in it's wavings grac'd. 
Sweetly it deck'd the form it wanton'd nigh, 
In mildest col'ring of the flaxen die. 
Love seem'd delighted there to spread a snare, 
And aid th' attractions lavish'd on his care. 
The rubid lip on pearly teeth impos'd, 
The smiles of placid innocence disclos'd.
Whilst from the eyes enamell'd tunic teem'd, 
O'er every look—benevolence forth beam'd; 
Whose

11 
Whose sprightly pleasantry delight ensur'd, 
And admiration to their charms allur'd. 
Graces with winning chearfulness combin'd. 
And fadeless honours of good temper's mind! 
Of easy manners chasten'd by good sense, 
And gen'rous spirit of beneficence. 
On virtue and it's happy rules intent, 
Nor like the body to mutation bent. 
Whose fickle health, adversely on this sphere. 
Now unsuspected, tends to brief career. 
If wary prudence, with sagacious deed, 
To preservation's laws urge not nice heed. 
To court Hygeia, and her blithsome train, 
And shun ensuing cause of morbid pain. 
With such munificence as now is nam'd, 
Some may be not so liberally fram'd. 
For nature's will may diff'rent states bestow,
And sparingly, her bounties more, allow. 
As flow'rs ill suited to the planted soil, 
Unfitly made for life's important toil. 
Unlike the sons of labour, whose strong form
Endures in vigor ev'ry vital storm; 
Unlike

12
Unlike the image fancy contemplates, 
Or poet's language aptly imitates; 
Pond'ring on beauties faultlessly array'd, 
And to the heart in richest thought display'd. 
Unlike the symmetry that art combines, 
Which in the school of sculptur's knowledge shines;
Or in the nice touch'd traits admired live,
That imitation's fertile pow'rs can give. 
A feeble offspring of degen'rate blood, 
As if created in a careless mood. 
Hereditary lapse—devoid of fire, 
Such as can strength and energy inspire. 
Or else the child of inattention's nurse, 
Alas! the parents' and the infants' curse, 
Which injury, and multiplied ills
In vari'd ways upon the health instils. 
Rich in the spoil of ev'ry heedless deed, 
And vacant of each aid requir'd by need. 
Whence modes are gain'd, and potent mischiefs rise, 
And forms, that all corrective art defies. 
A shape specific, pregnant with each woe, 
To health and life's endurance constant foe. 
Or


13 
Or cause allotted, diverse as unknown, 
Upon the crescive age with harm may frown. 
Where no condition can the wishes trace, 
Such as adorns a more invig'rate race. 
Within the close, distorted, bony mold, 
The vital organs scarce their use unfold. 
The lab'ring sides incessant toil for food, 
T' imbibe satiety of ærial food. 
Whilst respiration wheezing in each deed, 
Dolesome pursues half stifled painful speed. 
From the short breaths' quick heaved narrow bounds, 
Scarcely the raucose hollow voice resounds. 
Whilst feeble utterance with struggles lives, 
And to the urging cough new motives gives. 
Whose constant teazings of disquietude, 
With force exigent on the chest intrude. 
Ceaselessly troubl'd by each passing gale, 
That wakes the sense, or can the lungs assail. 
Pity—that such, on whom perfection's smile 
The blooming beauties of the British isle! 
Whose votive nymph's Tritonia has deck'd, 
And where the sister'd trine their throne erect. 
Where

14
Where Dionea joyfully allows 
Her gifts, and favours placidly bestows. 
Such as the Poet's fruitful fancy knew, 
When bright Alcina's * lovely form he drew. 
Fair as man's thought of angels cou'd invent, 
Or heaven in human model represent. 
Replete with all that friendship wou'd approve
To wake the much admiring heart to love. 
My luckless knowledge, such alas! can mourn,
And wakeful mem'ry view in thought forlorn. 
For such that record now the lay dictates, 
And lenient compassion consecrates, 
To tell some cause, paint the fell disease
That stings the sweets of many a parent's ease. 
That lovers in viduity prostrates, 
And many friends dooms long to sorrow's fates. 
Countless the numbers, Clemency may say, 
That speed to Pluto thus their early day. 
Lethal as evils on this world wide spread, 
That call their millions to the silent dead. 
Or stand alli'd with war's, or febrile ill, 
To bid the Parcæ their design fulfill. 
Mischiefs, by whate'er nam'd, that cause our race 
To quit the tenure of this life's embrace. 
Whilst
* See Orlando Furioso. 

15 
Whilst such bewail'd, engage our tristful pains, 
That bid affection tell it's mournful strains. 
Of those unnam'd, to whom our heeds belong, 
Whose merits claim the eulogy of song. 
Ye sympathetic, who the heart indulge, 
Will ye forgive what ardour may divulge! 
If this attempt—I ask ye to approve! 
That wreathes a sister's urn with lines of love. 

REFLECTIONS 
IN REMEMBRANCE OF A SISTER.
PACE flow ye footsteps to the vocal lyre, 
As treading on the torpid grave's domain, 
And harmonizing with the heart's desire, 
Awak'd accordant, be the melting strain. 
Notes fit responsive to my lift'ning ear, 
Are languent, soft, alike my pensive mind, 
Whilst hours and skies that others fill with fear, 
Please—they, for me—and sadness were design'd. 
Amidst

17
Amidst the silent dead I love to muse, 
When starry night with unbroke silence reigns, 
When ev'ry leaf a motion does refuse, 
And not a breeze to venture forth then deigns. 
I think of those who sleep beneath my feet, 
Who left their sighs to worldlings and to me; 
Some whom I've known—with thought of past I greet, 
And think on what our joys were wont to be. 
Dead now to me—dead many friends I love, 
Can thought meet your's—and intercourse maintain! 
To your abode it flie—though here I rove, 
Exalted spirits! hear me hence complain. 
I'll hie me to the earth where Anna lies, 
And there a tearful sacrifice create, 
There on it's fod I'll breathe a brother's sigh. 
And think on virtue whilst I her's relate. 
Ye youthful fair—ye calm'd thought vestal train, 
Whose forms attuned feeling dignifies! 
Bring here each type of sympathetic pain, 
To deck her shrine—who here unsculptur'd lies. 
D She

18
She whom in life each youth with praise wou'd sing, 
Here too shou'd have in death true virtue's same, 
Here gentle minds your dulcet tributes bring, 
And bless her mem'ry with a deathless name. 
Gives heav'n a sister with a heart like thine, 
Dear Anna—lovely—in all good array'd! 
A heart, the seat of innocence divine 
'Tis just to laud when such in death shall fade. 
Thou meek ey'd daughter of benevolence! 
Whom heav'n in youth call'd to it's pure domains; 
To thee I owe truth's dutiful incense, 
Whilst reminiscence pow'r to praise retains. 
How shall my heart—thy true regard repay, 
Ardent affection wou'd my bosom tell, 
How much admired—zeal's attempt wou'd say, 
Whose strong fraught sentiments—vain words repel. 
Yet, let me add—by all thy friends appli'd, 
Was amity's esteem for thee combin'd; 
Nature to thee—no ornaments deni'd, 
To charm the eye, or captivate the mind. 
Like

19
Like as a beaut'ous flow'r of tender race, 
Nurs'd by the kindly softerage of care; 
Whose cautious guard'an ventures forth to place
The tempting beams of vernal sun to share. 
Clouds suddenly o'erwhelm the flatt'ring skies, 
A gelid storm, th' exposed plant assails, 
That all the help of serving haste defies, 
To save his hopes from the swift blighting gales. 
The driv'n hail, the blossom'd charms destroys, 
And all the nascent sweets of health despoils; 
It droops beneath the shock that thus annoys, 
Dies unredeemed by all future toils. 
So 'twas with thee to noxious ill expos'd 
Beneath the smiles of youth's brief destiny; 
Thy bloom the sick'ning hectic fate soon clos'd, 
And pale disease obscur'd thy lustred eye. 
Oh may reflection—thus to thee ascend, 
That speaks a farewell to thy merit due; 
Such shall thy happy manes not offend, 
They shall the pious theme approved view. 
D2 Thy

20 
Thy fall we mourn not, Anna, as alone 
Thine not, or multitude's the fate atone. 
Dread Phthisis! thy desires are undeni'd, 
Nor are thy boundless claims yet satisfi'd. 
Nor young, nor fair, impede thy vast demand, 
Or stay the strength of thy relentless hand. 
Such most thy mark are, of unerring aim 
On Albion, where spreads thy morbid fame. 

GENERAL ANALYSIS 
OF PART THE 
SECOND. 
Address to science, unsuccessfulness of the attempts of
theory and experience, in the attainment of that know- 
ledge, which is desired for the cure of Phthisis—Ques
tion, When the human mind shall become more perfect, 
and unembarassed by its present defects and infirmities, 
existing here with primæval excellence, various effects, 
which may priorly take place.—Address to the Deity.—
Little of certainty to be communicated of the success of
art and prophylaxis in preventing or contracting the 
fatality of Phthisis, allusions to the various sources 
whence medicaments have been derived and used.—Dog-
matical and empirical practice yet equally unsuccess-
ful.—Acknowledgment of defects candidly made, how- 
soever some may otherwise boast of their skill and power 
over that peculiarity of state, which evades the controul 
of medical aid—their fallibility and want of success 
exposed—hence the futility of rehearsing their mea- 
sures.




[22]
sures.—Caution to the credulous.—Confession that the 
cure is not infallibly known—study and hope still labour 
in the pursuit of that desirable event.—Praise, and 
rewards, due to him who may be so fortunate as to find
the means of cure for Phthisis.—Address to Grati— 
tude—its characteristic, and pleasing attributes.—The 
extended sway of Gratitude—desire to possess it—recom— 
mendation of it as a duty and debt to the Deity—regret 
for man's neglect—comparison.—Praise of him who cul— 
tivates this noble passion—advantages.—Tendent capa— 
city of the ungrateful for other vicious impressions—a
question and desire.—Motive for gratitude to heaven 
metaphorically mentioned.—The subject of Phthisis re- 
sumed.—Few, and what kind of rules are meant to be 
dictated.—Address to the Phthisically disposed, relative 
to the climate of Great Britain—and advice conse-
quent.—Danger of wintering in this Island—early use 
of change of climate, and sea voyages commended.—
What may be of use to those who are necessitated to
continue in Britain.—Further recommendations.—For 
such, the enumeration of situations here as best adapted
to their needs avoided for want of sufficient experi— 
ence; and the doubts which late opinions, derived from 
the knowledge of the atmosphere, have brought concern— 
ing

[23]
ing the advantages of those places which formerly were 
commended to the Phthisical.—Allusion to the aid which 
Pneumatic medicine promises—the apparent worthiness 
of its doctrines attracts commendation—hence the rec- 
titude of applying for its aid, promoted.—A tuberculous 
state of the lungs, advised to seek early medical auxili- 
ance, if possible.—Caution to such to avoid exposure to 
those afflicted with pulmonary consumption—under the 
idea of there being some truth in its being an occasional 
cause of the disease in the predisposed.—Advice to at- 
tend to primary symptoms.—Further indicative symp- 
toms mentioned.—Hints to those disposed to Hoemoptysis. 





PHTHISIOLOGIA. 
PART II. 
O SCIENCE! secund source of pow'r and wealth! 
And kind preceptor of the rules of health! 
Disrob'd, arise from thy reposing bed; 
Unveil thy light, and be its rays far spread! 
What spell restrictive binds thy friendly will, 
And, uncontrouled, leaves the Phthisic ill? 
To sing thy deeds and frequent overthrow, 
Would swell the triumph of the mighty foe. 
To say, where vacant of thy ask'd success, 
Thy hopes have fail'd to grant health's happiness. 
I from




25
I from that effort cease—that would narrate 
Thy hapless struggles with the potent fate. 
What theory's wild vagaries have taught, 
And what thy sons, alas! have vainly sought. 
What arm has try'd to shield the hostile force. 
What guard essay'd to stem its avid course?
Or how experience ventures to contend 
For that event to which its wishes tend? 
Alas! how few such well-meant efforts save! 
The victor's wreathe is destin'd for the grave. 
When shall the sun of truth, and wisdom's day, 
Chace error and despairing doubt away? 
When give to man a more unbounded sight, 
And deck his mind with heav'n's indulgent light? 
When shall the short-liv'd throbbing heart resign 
All those defects, which now, O man! are thine? 
When shed contentment's calmness on thy brow, 
And bid the thornless rose of Eden grow? 
When not a tear shall dim the lucid eye, 
Nor aught impede extensive charity: 
Nor vicious purpose e'er disturb the breast, 
But peace preside, with smiles, as virtue's guest?
E Many




26 
Many a storm shall urge the changing skies, 
Ere that elysian goodly morn shall rise. 
Many a pain shall bid its sorrows flow, 
Many a bosom mortal suff'rings know. 
Many a disappointment far shall spread 
Its sad dominion o'er the earnest head. 
Many a poison, on the barbed dart, 
Shall wing its way, and pierce the vital heart. 
Many a form, from tyrant laws shall fly, 
Many oppress'd, beneath those laws, shall die. 
Many shall fall beneath the hand of time. 
And many sink the victims of foul crime. 
Many a child of innocence afar 
Shall moan its lot—the sacrifice of war. 
Many a parent, with a mind forlorn, 
Shall weep its child, beneath affliction born. 
Many a lover, shall in sorrow prove 
The wayward fortune of his slighted love. 
Many a friend a grateful deed shall want. 
And o'er his injuries with tears descant. 
Many a foul of worth shall live forgot, 
And ign'rance usurp his rightful lot. 
Many a mind shall mourn for slighted health,
And poverty bemoan the loss of wealth. 
These,





27 
These, these, and thousands more, shall men deplore, 
Till perfect blish dwells constant on our shore. 
But thou! who from the high æther'al blaze! 
Where countless seraphs, found thy endless praise! 
Unchang'd shall be—and still shalt pow'r retain, 
To soothe man's sorrows in this world's domain! 
Oh! if a pray'r can influence thy will! 
Thy blessings, on my lov'd—and friends instil! 
Oh view with mercy ev'ry finite woe! 
And shield the good, from ev'ry mundane foe! 
Direct man's heart, and cause his wish to be, 
The greatest pleasure—that of serving thee!
May all his hopes, and wants, to thee—aspire! 
Nor earthly love, or joys, sway his desire!
That when his mortal brief career is o'er, 
When human sorrows wound his sense no more; 
The fickle wav'rings of life's time safe past 
His home may be in peace, with thee at last. 
Cou'd I, in speaking what ATTEMPT has done 
Say, when the blissful Goddess has been won; 
Or if I cou'd with certainty impart, 
Some cheering rules of prophylactic art
E2 Sure




28 
Sure as that rock, on which fact firmly lays, 
Where knowledge ought to fix its solid base, 
Delight shou'd raise on soaring wings its voice, 
And in the praise of verity rejoice. 
But still in doubt is admonition plac'd, 
Small are the limits by cognition trac'd. 
Though man with prying, and enquiring lore, 
Has ransack'd nature's vast and wondrous store. 
Of products diverse, that combine in earth, 
To which the mine's recesses deep give birth. 
Or are within the fountain's wave dissolv'd, 
Or in the vegetable's form involv'd. 
Or those appropriate, by judgment us'd,
From animal condition fitly chus'd. 
Powers that chemic acts appreciate, 
Or that in gas'ous fluid circulate. 
All in contention with the morbid cause, 
Have each receiv'd their tribute of applause. 
Whate'er dogmatic' principles have rais'd, 
Or vain empiric's oftentation prais'd; 
All that illusive prejudice could teach, 
As diff'rent systems diff'rent precepts preach. 
What to the frail, or too believing heart, 
Cou'd cunning, or ambition's boasts impart. 
But




29 
But 'tis what candour's claims bid me instill, 
The little effects of Pœonians skill. 
Though some their vaunted quackery dispense, 
To thwart the innate potent influence. 
That mortal mischief's deeply latent sway, 
Indefinite—that speeds it's haughty way, 
And with the tendent system seems to live, 
And it's possessor to it's willings give; 
That Æsculapian regimen disdains, 
And uncontroul'd o'er art and science reigns. 
Such now I found not with specific name, 
Their frauds shou'd die like as their groundless same, 
Who vow a remedy secure they grasp, 
And yet the evil slits—the healing clasp. 
The malady exempt from it's arrest,
Bold in defiance, walks on unsuppress'd.
Or Proteus' like—their vigilance eludes, 
And still it's dangers on the frame intrudes. 
Their modes do not anxiety erase, 
Their promises expectancy debase. 
List'ning attention little would it cheer, 
The pompous measures of their rules to hear. 
Poor the reward that wou'd the hope repay, 
Or wou'd requite the archieving thoughts essay. 
Let









30 
Let such advent'rers who their Ægis wield 
You, from the enemy attempt to shield, 
If credulous, you yield to such desire, 
As ign'rance, and imposture wou'd inspire. 
Let them in prowess feeble try, their arm 
To skreen the danger of a just alarm. 
Bring you—their medic's potions much caress'd, 
And prove their power in the strong contest. 
For such—I of a victor's wreath berest, 
The tales of many prosp'rous cures have left. 
But much I fear the fallacy you trust, 
Will fink deceptive to the humble dust. 
An abject conquest in the proud defeat. 
Of that—whence conquer'd multitudes retreat. 
“ The monster follows, and it's force impels, 
“ Whose strength—the strength of mortal man excels 
For not to human knowledge yet bestow'd,
Has heav'n that precious certainty allow'd. 
When art and science, shall that gift receive, 
Which shall our dread from Phthisic force relieve. 
The mind of study labours in that train, 
With many wishes waits the blissful gain:
Led




31 
Led on by hope—sweet tempter to those deeds, 
By which industry in its aims succeeds. 
Thou solace of our efforts! yet conceal'd, 
Arise and be thy mysteries reveal'd! 
Sweet refuge come!—and dissipate our fears. 
And give to worth and beauty, lengthen'd years! 
He who shall dissipate by certain deed, 
The strength of doubt—be his the endless need! 
Of admiration—praises that unfade! 
In thankful rapture by mankind repaid. 
Whom parents, husbands, brothers, friends shall bless, 
And universal reverence caress. 
Smil'd on by these—whose smiles cannot alloy, 
That sex—whose smiles in virtue gives true joy. 
Whose approbation as real pleasure shines. 
And the delights of recompence combines. 
His happy fortune hence shall millions save, 
And close a path that leads but to the grave. 
Who shall the tabid host of hills defy 
And days of future happiness supply. 
Content unfulli'd shall his life here greet, 
And conscious good his actions ever meet. 
Full

32 
Full satisfaction gild his well earn'd fame. 
And ages speak with gratitude his name. 
Dear gratitude! e'er lov'd, whose angel smiles, 
The toils of labour by thy gifts beguiles. 
Thou gen'rous passion of the noble mind! 
The soul's confession of each impulse kind! 
Thy sacred fire shall enmity consume, 
And the fair offices of love illume. 
Thy light heel'd footsteps on the earth rebound, 
With sprightly fancies is thy forehead crown'd. 
The laughing joys upon thy features play, 
And honest ease attends thy jocund day; 
When hast'ning to discharge thy prompting heart, 
And all the duties that thy cares impart. 
Fatigue ne'er damps thy recompense design'd, 
Nor hardships e'er impede thy willing mind. 
Unweari'd thy benevolence fulfils, 
The dispensations which regard instils. 
O gratitude! how much on thee depends!
Far the embrace of thy vast arm extends. 
May from me never be thy charms effac'd!
Or be my heart with sordidness debas'd!
Thy




33 
Thy flame let e'er my sentient bosom fill, 
Nor selfish int'rest interrupt thy will! 
Thou art from man to man, a constant due, 
But more to him—our love, should thee renew; 
Whose lasting bounty ev'ry blessing gives, 
And all the wants of finite need relieves. 
Omnipotence!—who can each act controul, 
Requires th'avowals grateful of the soul; 
Shall man, of all creation's work, dispense 
Thy boon the least, or shrink from thy defence? 
Thee shunning—in dull apathy repose, 
Thy excellence—forgotten—not disclose? 
Regardless of those lessons from above, 
Which fellowship and social mode approve. 
Yes—often him—a mean indiff'rence guides, 
And thanklessness o'er his base heart presides. 
Too often so—and what can more debase 
The vaunted excellence of human race? 
Less so—than savage forms, whose gentle heed 
Reveres the hand whose bounty shall him feed; 
Less faithful than the dog, whose love ne'er swerves 
From him, whose due supplies his life preserves. 
They who thy proper energy possess 
A train of other virtues shall caress, 
F Shall



34
Shall know what honour—honesty import, 
And what the laws of justice most support. 
Friendship for him, shall each reward essay, 
And mild indulgence his request repay. 
Aids copious, shall charity allow, 
And blessings mingled with it's streams shall flow; 
So shall delight extensively be shed, 
And happiness throughout the world be spread. 
Each corrupt passion soon the soul deludes, 
When on the heart ingratitude intrudes; 
Whose gorgon-looks each finer feeling flies, 
And all the soft affections petrifies. 
To ev'ry vice it ope's a ready way. 
Where turpitude and secund evils prey. 
Is not the mind—which benefit receives, 
And barren ne'er a benefaction gives, 
When not a word the consciousness purveys, 
Or look oblig'd—the frigid sense displays, 
But fullenly from rectitude recedes, 
Inimical to virtue—and it's deeds? 
Like him, whose malice wou'd requital shun, 
Because they hate him—who the deed has done.
Such




35 
Such may society with blame eject, 
Nor more their wants attentively protect. 
When the mild showers of all-fav'ring Heaven, 
To the parch'd earth with gen'rous good is given. 
The sated soil alleviated seems, 
And verdant with acknowledgements it teems; 
The drooped plants increased vigor raise, 
And in their beauties shines their Maker's praise: 
It's varied bloom each flower then renews, 
Inspiring gladness over cheered views; 
Awaking hope, that culture of regard, 
Shall with rich fruit the soft'ring hand reward. 
For such beneficence let man employ 
His utmost laud to speak his grateful joy; 
For ev'ry good may long his altars burn, 
And ceaseless tokens speak his heart's return. 
Again, that path now claims our footsteps' care, 
Where prophylaxis sought we declare, 
No remedy specific we detail, 
No charm ador'd in superstition's veil, 
Nor legendary rules, by ancients told, 
Of sure prevention seek we to unfold. 
Rest





36
Rest ye enshrin'd, by us no more thence led, 
Like as your makers, peaceful, midst the dead. 
Devoid of such, few maxims compensate. 
Such as experience would inculcate; 
Such as a minister with wary eye 
Observes, and dares with caution to apply; 
Who practis'd rightly in fair nature's schools, 
Adopts with reason, just and simple rules. 
List, and believe, I know no other aim, 
Whose counsels, Hope can salutary name;
That can the lapse to tendent ill prevent; 
For you, by well-mark'd disposition bent. 
Ye whose frail frames pulmonic ills receive. 
Drooping beneath the skies of Britain live; 
Forewarned be, what risk here intervenes,
And is united with our fickle scenes; 
The atmosphere's cold, hot, or dank abode, 
Now dry, serene, or in a rainy mode; 
For ever hov'ring on mutation's wings, 
That pains and dangers to your system brings. 
Soon, if you can, fly from such perturb'd state 
Of elements, that woo you to your fate. 
Inimical

37 
Inimical to all but those who share 
A healthful vigor that defies e'en care; 
Yet even vigor rests not here secure, 
Nor safety can from danger's shafts ensure. 
Let the wide canopy of cloudless skies 
Witness your time in kinder safety rise! 
Where mildness, as on gallic lawns prevails, 
The days continued temp'rate joys entails. 
Or live beneath Olympus' dome serene, 
Where long reigns brightness, with th'Italian scene. 
Or Ulyssippo's smiles may woo your mind, 
And mark your hours to tranquil ease resign'd: 
Or far from home, where vast Atlantic roars, 
Happy remain ye on Madeira's shores. 
Ere the disease is ripen'd in the frame, 
Or bodes the symptoms of the Phthisic fame, 
Left be your winters on your native isle, 
For climes whose sway to gentle sense beguile. 
Oft' o'er the billows of th' extended main, 
Let the fleet vessel long your course sustain. 
Where'er advantage prompts a varied range, 
And use and pleasure bids the will to change. 
So


38 
So spoke the precepts of the Roman sage,
In diction purest of th' Augustan age, 
Bidding restraint not on the mind intrude, 
With cares and burdens of solicitude.* 
But if by some untoward fate condemn'd 
To linger here, amidst the sea's girth hemm'd;
Let the whose frame the vestiment sustain, 
From the warm raiment of the fleecy train. 
By Heav'n's indulgence well bestowed here, 
To shield the habitants of this rude sphere. 
Thus constant summer keep o'er all your frame. 
Nor e'er let rashness your mutation blame. 
Ne'er let the skin's due efflux be suppress'd. 
To injure thus the sympathizing chest. 
Nor let a gay seducing solar smile. 
Which 'luring, wantons only to beguile, 
That transiently darts from the cloudy bounds, 
And often but the gelid storm surrounds;
Urge you, whilst with its fleeting gleam you stay, 
Or tempt you then your caution to betray. 
* Celsus. L. III. Cap. 22.
Disrobe 

39 
Disrobe not then, enticed by false zeal, 
The precious mantle of corporeal weal. 
No change—no time—no season ever sway, 
Shall through the year derange your custom'd way. 
So may you by each rule which care supplies, 
In dietetic heed, and exercise. 
That with excess ne'er wildly deviates, 
Nor for the frugal senses pain creates; 
Long hope your health serenely on may flow, 
And many years of ease and safety know. 
The vagrant mind, for ye! who cannot roam, 
Or leave for other lands your much lov'd home, 
Might here for you, its tutelage display, 
And o'er this soil in views far stretched stray. 
Might, as it wanders o'er your native bow'rs, 
Of observation—cull the choicest flow'rs; 
To form a code your memory to greet, 
Where safest now, to find a wish'd retreat. 
But midst the maze of doubt I travel here, 
Where every step impresses further fear. 
Thy ripen'd mind,—Experience! no guide, 
Not o'er the thoughts, expansion, does preside.
Nor

40 
Nor hoary oracle of Wisdom's voice, 
Or Judgment's finger point out prudent choice. 
But by thy light, Philosophy! here led, 
With some small confidence we onward tread; 
And to thy temple introduce the fair, 
The proper object of the muse's care. 
Where thy devoted priest those laws unfolds, 
Which he who studies Nature's works beholds. 
Vers'd in those principles, which long unknown 
The volant breezes of this orbit own. 
Whose proper skill, by the hermetic art, 
Can to its use adapt each simple part. 
Whether the vital tide to animate, 
Or move its native fervor to abate. 
He teaches thus the florid to avoid 
An atmosphere with ruin strong alloy'd, 
Forbids those votaries to breath the gales, 
Where full excitement with each zephyr sails. 
Tells such to seek those haunts, where less declar'd 
That subtle sway, by mixture is impair'd: 
Where more azotic element disclos'd, 
Is with carbonic principle compos'd; 
Which tempers thus the stimulating force, 
And moderates the crimson'd tides full course. 
Chiefly 

41 
Chiefly ye, whom, that frequent ill afflicts, 
And by its signals, danger's touch, predicts. 
If the pulmonic structure finely trac'd, 
Has malady tuberculous embrac'd; 
A cause too often 'gainst the health oppos'd, 
And but to nice attention soon disclos'd: 
That thwarts too often amicable aids, 
And all the benefit of cure evades. 
Disposing pow'r, of periculous state, 
That drifts the body to its wayward fate. 
Seek ye Apollo's sons, their help engage. 
With early deed your symptoms to assuage. 
If happily those manners may avail, 
Which reason flatters hope—may health entail. 
Learn ye! whom causes such initiate, 
To know your hazard—and avoid your fate. 
Let not confinement with depressing pain, 
You—pris'ner through the ling'ring hours detain. 
To breathe the ill, that morbid frame retails, 
Whose health beneath the Phthisic lungs quick sails. 
Not as a foe to charity's kind hands. 
Or to the cares which tenderness demands, 
G Would








42
Would I that watchful kindred boon impede; 
Which nurtures sickness with each willing heed. 
But ah! a willy something surely preys 
Upon that health which caution disobeys; 
Who long exposed in those domes but live; 
And but a noisome tainted air receive, 
Where constant reigns each sway which can depress, 
And lead you to debility's distress 
Each evidence of risk, apprized shun, 
And stem the deed e'er yet it is begun. 
Fear—when a cough attacks—take just alarm! 
Though scarcely boding to your thought a harm. 
Should it oppose your breathings to the skies, 
When with the morn your due oraisons arise; 
Though yet no other symptoms have oppress'd, 
Or seem the wonted vigour to arrest. 
Those may by time's advancement be increas'd, 
And weave those bonds which cannot he releas'd. 
Should crescive agitations—hence enlarge, 
And from the lungs the spumous flux discharge. 
If this—and more—with steady pace succeed, 
And injur'd respiration more impede: 
If in those acts, which others freely trace. 
Your willing footsteps dare not speed embrace. 
Let










43 
Let not your minds incredulous neglect 
That prophylaxis, which may health protect. 
For on a precipice your good impends, 
And frail the guard is that your life defends. 
If with your days—debility and pain, 
A cough—with shorten'd respiration's bane, 
Grow, and its darts still meet you in each track, 
To speed your ruin—by its sure attack; 
Forfake the road now—where your paces lead; 
Nor dare continue with such risks to tread. 
Or soon will greater mischiefs be impos'd, 
And all their tendent principles disclos'd. 
If the chest speaks gravidity of sense, 
And unbemoan'd, cannot distress dispense; 
If all its acts, constricted feeling share, 
Support impoverish'd—of respir'd fare. 
Then may you dread—what time may soon fulfil, 
The dire effects of uncontrouled ill.
Whilst some in health—stretch'd on the nightly bed 
In easy frame to sleepful realms are fled; 
No inward pang the leaden god defies:
In whate'er form the inclination tries. 
You,




44 
You, vainly, may attempt th' incumbed side, 
That stirs a cough—arraigns the breathing tide: 
Forbidding liberty's diffuse desire, 
That would in ease the streams of life inspire. 
With these continu'd—if the febrile sway 
Closes the labours of the parted day. 
If unopposed in their morbid bent, 
Such potent symptoms spread their wild extent; 
Soon will the looks—the breath—the pulse declare 
What evils now the frame is doom'd to share. 
Whisp'ring around th' approaching hectic cause, 
Quick on the corpse with crescive power draws. 
Assume—ye, whom th' hoemoptic system wield, 
Whate'er your frail predicament can wield: 
Who to the Phthisic lineage a-kin, 
Derive a frail-and heired origin. 
Ye, whose denoting form—and signal face,* 
Import th' expression of a feeble race: 
* See page. Part I. 
Ad tabem properat, Phthisico de stemmate natus; 
Cui sæpe ad pectus, phlegmata salsa cadunt, 
Let




45 
Let prudent thought, and caution's care avoid 
Each risk, by which your health may be destroy'd. 
Let nought debility's effects proclaim,
Or local stimulus derange the frame. 
Chiefly, ne'er suffer motives to oppress, 
Which e'er may add to your dispos'd distress: 
Let nought arouse the blood's or nervous force,
Or lead your strength beyond a placid course. 
Let no fierce passion e'er the mind incite, 
Nor e'er indulge in anger's potent might. 
Let temperance o'er all your ways preside. 
Nor any outrage let your actions guide. 
So may you learn to find that happy mean, 
Which bids no evil on your joys advene. 
But if excess e'er leads your ardent will, 
Expect disease your pleasures soon may kill. 
Qui faciem hebraei, maciemque figurat avari: 
Cui vox augusto pectore rauca sonat. 
Qui gerit oblongum, velut alta ciconia collum; 
Cui, velut ala aquilæ, prominet os scapulæ, 
Nescis, cur Phthisico natura annexerit alas? 
Debet ad ignotas, nox volitare plagas. 
L. III. S. III. 
Nova et vetus Aphorismorum Hippocrates Interpretatio 
a Joanne Franc. Leone ab Erlsfeldt. 
The




46 
The sober rules of wisdom ne'er despise, 
Nor only let experience make you wise. 
Experience, sage tutor of the thought! 
Though oft, alas! by youth too dearly bought. 
In youth be cautious—and you may fulfil 
Those deeds—to gain which—I these rules instil, 



GENERAL ANALYSIS 
OF PART THE 
THIRD. 
The stealthy attack of Phthisis—the little alarm it 
gives to the mind of the afflicted—though affecting vital 
organs—yet they are not very susceptible of pain—hence 
the little suffering of the consumptive, comparatively with 
that of others attacked in other parts, by disease, not of 
so fatal a tendency—its danger to the body is greater 
than its dolent impression on the mind—its tardy progress 
opposed to other cases rapidly destructive of mortality.— 
Depressing passions of the mind hurtful to those Phthisi— 
cally disposed.—The felicity of hopeful Love, contrasted 
with disappointment and despair.—The attempts to ob- 
tain consolation ineffectual—simile from nature—grateful 
powers of requited affection.—The endeavours of blame 
and opposition often misapplied, in attempting to counter- 
act the impressions of the passion.—Its arbitrary sway.—
An amiable and suffering character delineated.—Her state 
claims sympathy.—Interlocution to a tear.—Hope, a con-
ductor




[48]
ductor frustrated in its confidence.—Mutation of pleasures 
formerly experienced.—Products of unfaithfulness.—
Defalcation of the heart—due penal consequences.—Con— 
scientious affliction.—Misfortune of an affectionate mind, 
to experience the decayed attachment of the object of its 
regard.—Supplication for divine auxiliance and inter- 
ference.—Figurative contemplation of expectation.— 
Powers of Love under delusive hope.—Different views 
of Disappointment—that of frustrating pleasurable wishes 
and dreaded evils—it often gives the real knowledge of 
things, and brings conviction to the obscured and deluded 
mind.—Continuance of the effects of the disappointed 
pasion on the body and mind.—Consolation administered 
to a character.—Distress of mind from the sympathy of 
this and the body, destructive of health and effecting 
decay.—An instance of this alluded to, and a request to 
sacrifice to the manes of female friendship.—A descrip- 
tive Elegy. 
PHTHISIOLOGIA.




PHTHISIOLOGIA. 
PART III. 
WITH wily mode that lulls suspicion's voice. 
Enchain'd thou lead'st—unwary oft thy choice. 
Like the trine monsters of Tyrrhenas' main, 
Which to destruction lure with guilesome strain. 
For ye! by Phthisis once attack'd, sojourn 
Not painfully—though flow, ye seek death's bourn. 
Though warn'd, ye live—unfearfully ye fall,
Whom, unalarm'd, decaying lungs inthral. 
For you the Deity, whose friendly will 
Permits the office of each good and ill, 
H Bade

50 
Bade with light hand, disease its deed commence;
And slightly press its stings on mortal sense. 
Little thy powers—or thy tristful bane, 
Molest the feelings—acrid poignant pain! 
Acutely not—as when thy cruel laws, 
With pangs ineffable the mind o'er—awes. 
Did danger, but commensurate, arrest 
The frame—as pain, upon the nerves imprest.
Happy were many now!—and happy here, 
Had many liv'd estrang'd to grief and fear. 
Unlike some maladies, which parts invade, 
Foes not to life—yet sad with tortures made. 
But thou, my theme! with nobler organs wars, 
And life with gentler, yet sure force debars. 
Not, as soon fades athletic health's high boast, 
Yet ere few days, on India's shore a ghost. 
Where numbers left, beyond the billow'd deep. 
Thy prey, dire Fever! may Europa weep. 
Not like the son of Jove—ere strength decays, 
By sudden conflict—doom'd to end thy days. 
His anguish'd suff'rings, conquer'd life's desire, 
And plac'd him victim on Oëta's fire. 
Whilst speak those signs, which rightly indicate
The warning tendency we contemplate. 

51
In such, how oft the mournful eye hath seen, 
A case distressful act with powers keen:
A subtle woe, insidiously dress'd, 
By the pure heart of innocence cares'd. 
Acting too potently with sad effect, 
Whilst youth conducts the tender intellect. 
When nice susception, every feeling trains, 
And long, with conscious sense, each print remains. 
Often no more, to be by care thence lav'd, 
Indelibly too deeply there engrav'd. 
On you! ye souls! decoy'd to long distress, 
To love, and oft, frustrated happiness. 
Sweetly with her the light-wing'd moments flew, 
When first in love a blithsome hope she knew: 
No doubt, nor fear, her youthful heart possess'd, 
Nor sorrow broke upon her balmy rest. 
Charming in smiles of fortune and health's bloom, 
Her joys ne'er dream'd of future ills to come. 
Aurora's face for her rose fresh and fair, 
And flow'rs for her perfum'd the sun-beam'd air. 
But ere her life had reach'd meridian hour, 
A gath'ring storm drench'd on her head its pow'r; 
Relentless

52 
Relentless burst—and swiftly henceforth gave
To expectation's bliss an early grave; 
And left her love-lorn and despairing breast, 
With pining care and disappointment press'd. 
So may the morn that's gilt with lucid ray, 
Weep in its show'rs ere ripen'd into day. 
No more the sprightly look her spirits boast, 
The hope and anchor of her soul is lost. 
In vain  she seeks the path of ease serene, 
To cheer her life—or some sequester'd scene, 
Where calm'd, the pensive heart's sad dreary way, 
May with enjoyment—thorny pain allay. 
So, when the zephyr's gently moving breeze, 
Whispers amidst the vale's light tufted trees, 
In airy smiles, which nature's charm restore; 
How soon the phantom—sway is heard no more! 
Quick rise those blasts, which fierce the forest tear,
As in the rueful cadence of the year. 
Destructive to the leafy honour's pride, 
In volant sweep o'er nature they preside. 
While bursting clouds pour forth their liquid wave, 
And foaming down the rocks the torrents lave. 
To

53 
To grief's dire passion and corrosive smart, 
Obscures all pleasures from th' afflicted heart. 
More keenly than the storm's rude hostile hand, 
Dismantles beauties of the peaceful land. 
But love's benignant sweets the soul can free, 
And loose the captive from all misery. 
“ Can aid the hero—bid ambition rise,”
And bear the mind beyond all mortal ties. 
Like as Favonius, to nature dear. 
The fainting pilgrim's calid paths can cheer. 
The languid faculty, and cautious age, 
In vain opponent words with love may wage; 
May tell what maxims youthful minds should guide, 
What prudent foresight o'er their deeds preside: 
May blame austerely the admitted guest, 
Which preys upon the passion's tranquil rest:
Which ev'ry former quietude assails, 
And over judgement speciously prevails. 
With wily aspect wilfully allures, 
Yet no companion in the breast endures. 
“ A truth which many but too late can hear! 
“ A certain truth, which many buy too dear! 
By


54 
By thee once charm'd, all else a charm has lost, 
The heart thy seat, thy unsuspecting host. 
Persuasive guidance! deified name! 
I not thy pow'r—or sad misfortunes blame: 
Though transiently—I some effects relate. 
Which minds more able might delineate. 
But first, may I a destin'd tale pursue? 
Which now approaches to the mem'ry's view. 
For, till old time each mundane act shall raze, 
Virtue, like Stella's, shall be nam'd with praise! 
Whose constant wish with gen'ral good o'erflows, 
And round its sphere each friendly boon bestows. 
Exults to see where social bliss accords, 
Enjoys, to give what happiness affords. 
Relieves that state whose prosperous weal is fled. 
And bounteousty supports the drooping head. 
When wants invade—and others shun the door 
Of those whose only blame is to be poor. 
Or health the cot of penury forsakes, 
It's lacking then her gen'rous aid partakes, 
Yet ah, for Stella! little pleasure lives, 
She needs that peace—she oft to others gives. 
Though

55
Though bless'd with worth as malice e'en allows, 
And Heav'n itself with approbation knows. 
But as thy hosts, oh Sorrow, on earth roam! 
They press'd their force on her devoted doom. 
Long without joy—or consolation kind, 
Has dark suspense o'erhung her tortur'd mind. 
Fainting beneath accumulated pain, 
From love dishonour'd—flighted with disdain. 
Let her sad hours before the mind appear! 
Depress'd by anguish—and each galling fear! 
Ye, who compassion's ductile heart sustain! 
To whom—like her—distress ne'er spoke in vain; 
At Stella's fate the human sigh shall move, 
And list'ning sorrow give her pity's love. 
For her, the tear's oblation not arrest! 
For her, whom many pangs have long oppress'd.
The Tear, soft stream,—by Heav'n first design'd, 
To indicate the feelings of the mind! 
Thou glist'ning pendent, of the madid eye! 
Companion of the thought—expiring sigh! 
What varied causes give thy being place? 
How multiplied on the mortal race!
Spring

56 
Sprung from misfortune's vast immensity
Of forms—or livest with infirmity. 
Or from the impulse of nice tenderness, 
Art child of feeling—for unhappiness. 
To thee! the parting lover's soul may say! 
When absence bids him follow her lone way. 
Go from thy source, and seek ray loved's heart,
And there impress what lovers feel who part. 
To her, for me, a tenderness convey, 
Or all I think—or language would display. 
But if she knows not—what is much my care, 
Here rest with me, till solv'd in passing air. 
The years of youth, which first her love disclos'd, 
Guided by hope upon its arm repos'd: 
Was led to where each pain with life combin'd. 
Should mitigation and assistance find. 
But thence, alas! sprung forth the blasts of spoil, 
Which peace obscure, and all its wishes soil, 
Thence issued disregard, unjust mischief, 
Taunting despite, and each heart-piercing grief. 
Since with affection, flew each happy day, 
When faults not satisfaction could allay, 
Pleasures,


61
Pleasures are for despondent sorrows chang'd, 
And time advances with each sweet derang'd: 
Those hours that were—for ever now are fled, 
And cruelty for tenderness is shed. 
So life lags on, scarce separate from death. 
And rightly asks it with a willing breath. 
Of faithless love, the offspring is disdain. 
The fount of tortures to a lover's pain. 
Malice and frigid looks, affection's foes, 
Combine to introduce a host of woes; 
On innocence—the prey of base deceit; 
And all that hatred, can for love repeat. 
These the sad wreck of promises betroth'd, 
Her, once gay hours, with misery have cloth'd. 
Could he, who first her youthful bosom fir'd,
With equal fervor could he be inspir'd?— 
No—not with him—could one true motive grow, 
As she with constant heart was born to know.
Or, if he felt affection's ties impress'd. 
Or aught sincere attached to his breast, 
He quitted these—prescrib'd her wretched doom,
When reason, quell'd by error, was o'ercome. 
I O Miscreant!


62 
O Miscreant! oppressed by despair, 
What can, appropriate, thy pains impair! 
If such thou know'st! 'tis just thou should'st complain 
Of cheerless passions—in heart—rending strain; 
“ Whilst ev'ry pow'r of life and appetite, 
“ Dissolves in languor—lost to real delight. 
“ Till sinful knowledge, reparation give; 
Justice appeas'd—or mercy thence relieve. 
If e'er reflection judgement shall illume, 
And presidency, conscience e'er assume; 
Horrific be its strength—on wounded thought: 
And with conviction's fulgid spirit fraught. 
On him who Stella's boundless favours bless'd, 
By him in dull ingratitude possess'd. 
Ill-omen'd fate! dire inauspicious day!
That knows a waning joy's complete decay. 
Unprosp'rous moment! for a soul refin'd, 
To feel the injury of deeds unkind. 
Pitied be such! whose ever—faithful care, 
Or love—lorn beauties thankless man should share. 
Such

63
Such ills—her charms—oh let not long deject! 
Thou that canst purity in bliss protect! 
Thou that canst o'er the conscious mind instil!
Thofe gifts that screen a suff'rer from all ill! 
What though insult with frigid temper shrouds 
Her joys—thy arm shall dissipate those clouds! 
Shall give the unrepining victim peace, 
And fix her heart serene in lasting ease. 
Shall raise true friends—and long their lives prolong, 
To aid the wife's, and soothe the children's wrong. 
Felicity! forsake not thou that heart, 
That seeks thy bliss to others to impart! 
How distant, Expectation, are thy bounds! 
Vast the extension that the realms surrounds!
Limits, which knowledge never can advene, 
Which yet explored—no human eye has seen. 
When led by thee, outstretch'd, the thought diffuse 
An endless region of delight can chuse. 
As when the am'rous passion once impress'd, 
Dwells on those sweets attainment ne'er possess'd. 
It rivets all the soul to one intent, 
And plastic sways it to its secret bent; 
Then

64
Then wounds it lastly—never to be heal'd, 
Ere yet the barbed weapon is reveal'd. 
If disappointment, with its aspic sting, 
Its pangs inclement to the senses bring. 
Oh, Disappointment! harsh, and rigid law!
Whose punishments upon the vitals gnaw. 
Thou stern assailant!—with misfortune's knell, 
Canst gelid horror, on the thought impel. 
Is it from realms unknown, of silent death, 
Thou being draw'st—and sendest forth thy breath? 
For so thy powr to expectation seems, 
When thy refusal, on hope's wishes teems. 
Twin—form'd on earth, thy attributes appear, 
To kill those hopes—or quash the mental fear. 
Thus—like an angel's aid—thy deed supplies 
That bliss—which doubt, and dimm'd suspense, denies, 
When dissipating ev'ry dread portent, 
Thou changest chance, to certainty's event. 
So bidding danger from its post be led, 
And joyous life o'er misery be spread. 
A gift of Heaven—then, thy weal is fam'd, 
And thy annulling sway with praise is nam'd. 
Naked

65
Naked to view—thou bring'st illusions veil'd, 
Which long from certainty remain'd conceal'd. 
Then vision'd pleasure, like a phantom flies. 
And wrecked hope, a wretched suff'rer dies. 
A victim to the arms of torture hurl'd, 
Unbless'd and cheerless, wais'd to all the world. 
Without a succour from the rankling dart 
That in reflection penetrates the heart. 
Now pining Anguish with its train of ills, 
Dull melancholy, and despair instils. 
Blighting with freezing breath, each sprightly source, 
Which gives to energy its vital force. 
All active spirits fly—all joys decay, 
Dejected fancy—wither'd, dies away. 
The languid health defencelessly expos'd, 
By caustic woe is harrass'd and inclos'd. 
Feebly oppos'd to foes—which thus invade. 
Is the too wretched and the guiltless maid. 
By multiplied, secret pangs entwin'd, 
How chang'd, alas! in body and in mind! 
Prostrate, yet breathing with unsullied fame. 
And lost to all but patient virtue's name.
Drifted



66 
Drifted, thus unresisting, on a rock, 
A weak existent in misfortune's flock. 
Whose voice would praise with gratitude that Pow'r, 
That soon announc'd her last approached hour. 
A life, of all its merits here how wrong'd!
A life, but by Omnipotence prolong'd: 
A life, that cannot worldly heed caress
A suff'rer, worthy of more happiness. 
Child, not of hope! or of alluring wealth! 
Of pleasure or of rosy visag'd health! 
Low is thy dwelling—and obscure thy name, 
Stranger alike to flattery and same, 
A peaceful conscience, and contentment's mind, 
Shall thee prepare to die—or live resign'd. 
These shall be thine—shall check the lengthen'd sigh, 
And dry the tear that fills the sadden'd eye. 
The joys that duty has to love deny'd, 
May be by friendship's willing hand suppli'd. 
Who—when reposed on the faithful breast, 
Shall guard thy days—and strive to give thee rest. 
'Till thy last hour—thy due reward shall bring 
A sadeless summer, and eternal spring. 
But

67 
But now the deep—struck bane, the strength degrades, 
Then all th' accordant sympathies pervades; 
The native beauties of the form alloys, 
And ev'ry aid reciprocal destroys, 
Which health of mind with health of body gives, 
In that compact where sanity but lives. 
That now devoted—no more this can shield 
Both thus dispos'd—to morbid powers yield; 
To each attack—approximate, this bows, 
And passive all the mental cause allows. 
Thus life but with a dying lustre shines, 
Its languent strength—“ with wasting sorrow pines; 
“ Like fleecy snow, that in the warmth of day, 
“ In heaps dissolves before the solar ray.” 
From such a cause, will patience ear refuse, 
Whilst I again in lines elegiac muse? 
And seek remembrance of her, to redeem
Who swells the numbers, in the hectic theme. 
A virgin-conquest of the Phthisic foe, 
The prey of love, and love's attendant woe. 
O may th' attempt in language meet arise! 
And not a sentient mind the lay despise!
Nor




68 
Nor you, my friends, whose fellowship accords 
With her's, whose wishes claim the tristful words! 
Clara's regard 'tis, makes the strong request, 
For her—deplored—gone to saintful rest. 
Whose weary spirit—seeking endless day, 
Where sorrows shall find rest—has wing'd its way. 
DESCRIPTIVE

DESCRIPTIVE 
ELEGY. 
WHENCE is this found—lugubrious plaint, that steals 
Upon my ear—and awfully assails 
The mind—as when a midnight breeze reveals, 
Fear striking tones to thought—on vagrant gales? 
That murm'ring through each solitary place, 
Detrusive flies—amidst the dark recess, 
With vari'd progress, o'er the dreary space; 
Now languid—or now sonant of distress. 
K As

70
As through the cell, or vaulted ill it bounds, 
The castle's roof—or moss—clad wasting walls 
Of ancient solitude—whence solemn sounds, 
In notes are heard that gaiety appals. 
Or passing through the antique fabled yew, 
That slowly in the silent church—yard waves; 
And shades each tomb—our destinies renew, 
The old companion of the mould'ring graves. 
Is it a breath—that has some woe embrac'd, 
And bears some story from the tristful grove; 
Of sadden'd Cyprus—on the list'ning trac'd; 
Dolent with sighs of melancholic love? 
Truly—and seeks, a painful task to tell, 
As passed lately o'er Eliza's tomb; 
And brings her farewell—speaks the echo'd knell, 
Of rights funereal of her youthful doom. 
Here rest thy message—and thy destin'd care, 
Nor bear such sorrow to my Clara's mind; 
And you—her friends! nor yet the tale declare, 
Spare, and shield off, each word with woe combin'd! 
Beware

71
Beware—to raise her pain! whose thoughts vibrate 
In pity's cause—or each affecting scene;
I dread the conflict—and commiserate 
The anguish sudden—which shall supervene. 
Yet—tenderly, the dol'rous shock conceal. 
For well I know how were their hearts entwin'd 
In bonds of amity—let time reveal! 
The sad recital—with each pain combin'd! 
The loss to her, redoubly shall disclose 
Each ingrate sense—which parted friendship knows; 
Shall pierce each essay, of a wish'd repose, 
And wreck the peace her present hope avows. 
From infant years their true regard I view, 
When each the other vested with her thought;
Such as young fancy undisguised knew, 
And all the fire of pure affection taught. 
Increasing time, still aided their esteem, 
With all the kind associates of the breast; 
No cold reserve could apathy there teem; 
Nor insincerity their thoughts invest.
How

72 
How shall thy spirit, Clara! hear the words, 
Or view this relic of Eliza's frame! 
The ringlet, deck'd as sacred care affords; 
A wreath, in mem'ry of her hallow'd name!
I would, from thee! e'er hide the mournful strain, 
But vainly its recital I repel;
The voice of fame, no longer will refrain, 
It ever hastes too soon our pains to tell. 
Too soon, alas! the whisper'd truth arrives, 
Which like the blow of fate dissolves the breath.
Its harsh assault, her present grief deprives, 
She sinks—oblivious—in a semblant death. 
The eyes, now motionless, their lustre lose, 
Cold—spiritless—the limbs extended lay; 
And from the cheeks quick flies the tinging rose; 
The vital stream foregoes its course to play. 
Then on a flipp'ry and unstable verge, 
Life feebly held—a parting seem'd to crave; 
The floating spirits—tendent deathward urge, 
To wing their way to Lethe's silent wave. 
Inert


73
Inert seems friendship's art, and willing balm, 
To stem the powers of the potent grief; 
Whilst pity vainly seeks the gusts to calm, 
For, ah! the feelings shrink from its relief. 
Oft' from its dormant state the brain awakes. 
Weak utt'rance only speaks the tortur'd mind, 
In abrupt sighs—(convuls'd each part partakes) 
And murmurs mingled of death's deed unkind. 
In gusts of tears th' impelled powers rouz'd, 
Excite th' insensible frame from dormant shades; 
Where, had the faculties awhile repos'd: 
And life through each meand'ring way pervades. 
Yet still reflection triftfully remains, 
The lernan ill, firm to the wound adheres; 
With all its monstrous hydra headed pains; 
An shatter'd strength dejectedly appears. 
Now in suspirious state the senses haste, 
To view the actions of the passed years; 
When youth its joys, did unalloy'd taste: 
Nor thought knew sorrow—or a shade of fears. 
With


74
With languid voice—thus Clara's words retrace 
Pass'd absent bliss—'Ye dear delights adieu! 
' Which all my future days shall not deface; 
' Ye sweets farewell! I with Eliza knew! 
' Lead me, oh memory! to Ebora's plains, 
' Where first our son of amity arose;
' Its pure impressions, still this heart retains; 
' Though death has fix'd it by thy last repose. 
' Thy wit, good—humour, and thy lively ease, 
' And all thy mental charms I much rever'd; 
' Form'd with each social grace, and gift to please; 
' Thy heart to me of spotless hue appear'd. 
' Oft' when thou didst the tyrant pain disclose, 
' Afflicted by parental will, unkind, 
' Thy love with me but, dar'd its thoughts repose, 
' And the true cause for which thy health repin'd. 
' With fear foreboding ill, I heard thy plaint, 
' Studi'd thy comfort with all careful aid; 
' But foe to this, the soul corroding taint 
' Would still with constant war thy peace invade. 
' So

75 
' So gives the ductile sway, the subtile fire; 
' So the envenom'd dart the life demands; 
' Round the pale bosom plays the young desire, 
' And slow consuming"—thro' the frame expands. 
' Alas! when rigour's laws, our hearts reprove, 
' And thus fidelity's true bliss control, 
' Desponding, forlorn, unpropitious love, 
' Unnerves the body, but enchains the soul. 
' No balm of peace—the ceaseless rack illumes, 
' No beam of gladness on the wishes shines; 
' In constant vigil, care the health consumes, 
' And ling'ring death around the life entwines. 
' A kindly death!—when ev'ry promis'd joy, 
' And former prospect, sinks in harsh disease; 
' Come, Innocence! thy cordials employ! 
' And lead the victims hence to endless ease!
' Deplor'd Eliza! can e'er aught remove 
' My priz'd remembrance!—no—we cannot part; 
' I'll live to praise—regret—thy faithful love, 
' Till destin'd hence, I meet again thy heart.' 
GENERAL

GENERAL ANALYSIS 
OF PART THE 
FOURTH. 
Arrival at the acmé of youth, what dangers are then 
pendent, restriction of the growth of the body, and what
effects may happen from some causes, before the balance be- 
tween the powers of extention and resistance is established. 
—Dancing mentioned, it's ascendancy, universality, and 
exhilerating effects.—Admirable beauties, good qualities, 
and accomplishments of Laura delineated.—Zara's cha- 
racter, and excellencies.—The meritorious praise of 
Matilda, good wishes, grateful recollection of enjoyment.—
With whom dancing most accords, cautions for its use.— 
Further advice commendatory of moderation, and the
avoiding of certain errors—attention to the dictates of 
nature enforced.—Night fitly appropriated for rest, its 
sway allures thereto.—An address to evening—Continua- 
tion of it, effects experienced, the indulgence of meditation
at that time.—Moonlight, its reign praised, contemplative 
sensations and pleasures experienced by it.—Retirement 
in

77 
in advanced night, sentiments, visionary pleasures in sleep. 
—Morning how welcom'd, a desire.—Equal thankful- 
ness offered to morn, as at night, a suppliant request.—An
early excursion at Rockley, descriptive attempt, the sport- 
man's departure and success.—The shepherd's flock driven 
from the fold.—Barrows, little alteration made in 
them by time, comparatively mentioned, Barbury's en— 
trenchment—Stoney masses, the disposal of their arrange- 
ment in the place alluded to, giving reason to imagine they 
were formerly artificially sited for druidical purposes, that 
state compared with their present.—Safety recommended 
to females, by their right observance of nature, and adher— 
ence to her requisitions.—Acts of the weak, often impelled 
by forcible inclination, contrary to reason and rectitude, 
effects from elated minds, and exertion of body.—En- 
thusiasm, its powers, dangerous consequences undreaded, 
may take place from the immoderate pursuit of enjoyment, 
attendants on excess in the peculiar and particular pre- 
dicament pourtrayed, a cause interrupting health, rashly
provoked, event.—The fate of errors.—Further effects 
and symptoms introduced, tendent to hectic or febrile state, 
certain afflictions and the stages of hectic Paroxysm de- 
scribed, progress of signs and disease, intermission and re-
turn of Paroxism.—Increasing alarms, further appear-
L ances.

78 
ances.—Continuance of distress and danger, augmentation
of Phthisis—The lingering advancement of calamities, 
frailty and decay, throughout these the power of hope.— 
Emaciation, fixed prognostics, indications, from the aspect
and whose body, of approaching fate.—What formerly 
may have pleased the eye and imagination, and which 
might afford satisfaction to the observation of the health- 
ful, supplies no source of enjoyment to the wearied, suf- 
fering and despairing patient.—Resignation, death ar- 
rives not too early for the relief, and felicity of mortality
from a wretched and life afflicted state, willing compliance 
with the exitial demand. 
PHTHISIOLOGIA.

PHTHISIOLOGIA. 
PART IV. 
NOW youth, by time, led forward on life's way, 
Displays th' appointed acmé of its day; 
And brings the system to that ordinance, 
From which th' elastic tubes no more advance. 
When no more yielding to the pulsile force, 
They bear extension, by the sanguine course, 
Then, unsuspected may a cause arise, 
To give to predispos'd disease supplies. 
When fickle health might need such kind recruit, 
To raise the germen to maturer fruit. 
But

80
But near to health is morbid ill alli'd, 
And slight the fence that does the state divide, 
If heedlessly, or rashly in a fact,
Born by the torrent of wild pleasure's act;
The mind beyond the body's powers bold, 
Disdains a rein, and ranges uncontroul'd. 
If ardent exercise, oft doom'd to blame, 
Awakes the danger of the tendent flame, 
If wanton spurrings urge the crimson'd tide, 
The rules of prudent caution to deride. 
Then, fiercely gliding in its strict domain, 
Resisting bonds the current may restrain, 
In sturdy vessel—whose establish'd fate, 
For the exub'rant flux no more dilate. 
Whilst nought the heart's impulsive force revokes, 
Urging the blood with swist successive strokes. 
Augmenting contest, opposition brings, 
Whence fatal evil from the rupture springs, 
Of the minute, confin'd arterial length; 
To furnish future pains for lavish'd strength. 
Greatly, as some observe, if heat succeeds, 
With pow'r expansile, after winter's deeds.
The

81
The dance—the giddy spirits much incites,
Allures the wishes by its gay delights.
Enliv'ning joy! that nations all revere, 
That lives the friend of mirth in ev'ry sphere! 
That universally the mind has fir'd, 
As if, by nature's free command inspir'd, 
In jocund mood—when being first she fram'd, 
Vivacious tendency in mortals nam'd. 
The lusory of fancy's light—stepp'd heed, 
When health and vigour animate the deed. 
And joyous music adds it's sprightly share, 
To glad the heart, and tread on pensive care. 
To actuate the body's energy, 
Advance its life, and shew its liberty. 
The sway of torpid dulness to elude, 
And wanton in capricious attitude. 
Or playful act—in airy mode arrang'd, 
By lively judgment's votive wishes chang'd. 
To bid the agile limbs their gifts devote, 
And vari'd motions gracefully denote. 
To please the eye, to captivate the mind, 
And shew each trait with winning ease combin'd.
See!

82
See! Laura thus, the fashion'd figure trace, 
And thou shalt see the charms of ev'ry grace. 
Whose bright attractions pleasure shall impart, 
And fix a wonder on the captive heart. 
Observe her manners, and her mein survey! 
And thou shalt own admiring fancy's sway. 
See the expressive powers of her eyes, 
And thou shalt know what utterance defies. 
Could'st thou too, see the beauties of her mind, 
Thou then wouldst know what Heav'n complete 
design'd. 
Where e'er she moves, her presence can enhance, 
Each joy experienc'd in the cheerful dance. 
When she retreats, she leaves a just delight, 
Which each one treasures in the mental fight, 
Fix'd in the hoard of nurtur'd mem'ry's store, 
Which time reviews, and still admires the more, 
For when departed from the busy crowd, 
I've heard her prais'd, in truths which all allow'd.
Yet, though such transports Laura may inspire, 
Zara has charms, which rightly all admire. 
Her welcome converse can each friend supply, 
And teach the moments happily to fly. 
To

83
To her, attention, smiling hearing lends, 
And with esteem to sweet instruction bends. 
Aönian strains, wak'd by her touch vibrate, 
To raise our bliss, or sorrows dissipate. 
When dulci-sonant from the smitten chord, 
Arise those pleasures music can afford. 
Or, when in tuneful song, she swells her voice, 
Mortals may love, and Heav'n commend their choice.
Prais'd be the Pow'r! that harmony invests, 
Which by the ear, the captive heart arrests.—
Happy must he be, boundless sweets him bless! 
Who shall her love with equal love caress. 
To him, a desart, paradise might be, 
And teem abundant with felicity. 
Unkindly, savage manners might give way, 
To own the favor of her gentle sway. 
Her soothing mildness, and her art to please, 
Each adverse trouble would annul with ease. 
Her gladsome means would calm the rugged will, 
And smiles spread o'er the brow of rugged ill. 
I would arraign too, here, more words thus due, 
Few are their train—tho' speaking much that's true. 
Deck'd

84 
Deck'd in integrity's pure robes my lays, 
Would give Matilda's worth approval's praise. 
No studied language—Muse! need be thy care, 
If but the fruits of knowledge it declare. 
Through day's assembled in spring—youth's gay train, 
I've known her, lovely—friendly—and humane. 
And in maturer summer's brighter years, 
The dut'ous child that aged need now cheers,
Still the warm patron of benevolence, 
Disciple prudent—of her guide—Good sense. 
For her—oh, could my wishes long instil!
What but Omnipotence can here fulfil! 
They should for her, a daily grateful share, 
Of pleasure and felicity prepare. 
Time should long hover on a tardy wing, 
While plenty should for her its blessings bring. 
All grateful health, administer to ease, 
And peace reward her with those sweets which please. 
Whilst far from her, hours, still with me commence, 
Which may to me, her converse not dispense. 
I'll recollect, with solace to my mind, 
That former time has to my life been kind. 
When thought, with gratitude shall often own, 
The lot I've had, that I to her was known. 
Joy

85
Joy to thy rural form! thy lonely seat, 
Begirt with hills, within the vale's retreat!
Oft for thee, Villa, shall my wishes say, 
And nature's bounties bless the night and day: 
For there Matilda dwells—and there divulg'd, 
To me, has been much social good indulg'd. 
Chorea's sports most with young health accord, 
When gen'rous strength can rich supplies afford;
Which ev'ry lively property impart, 
To aid the activeness of youthful art. 
But ah! be cautious—ye, who much devise! 
The frequent moments of this exercise, 
Ye vent'rous many who the wish avow,
With prudence learn its pleasures to allow! 
The strongest cannot long excess endure, 
Nor freedom from its dire effects ensure, 
Those future pains, which from indulgence spring,
And long your hours with lassitude may sting. 
But chiefly, you! who need important care, 
The balm of vigour, most with wisdom share! 
Ye fair! for whom I tempt the arduous song, 
Never the luring pastime much prolong! 
M With

86 
With temperance indulge the appetite, 
And taste in moderation each delight. 
Let not the present time be ever cloy'd! 
Nor future, with repentant thought alloy'd! 
May lax fatigue ne'er speak the sad expence, 
Which tells the waste of life—sustaining sense! 
Let not by pond'rous ill, the frame unnerv'd, 
Accuse—that reason has from justice swerv'd! 
Ne'er with the latest hour, and night's dark sway, 
Waste your support—the need of coming day! 
Let not the warning harbinger of morn, 
Observe the visage of a form forlorn! 
Or nature's children on your sports awoke, 
Know errors which may sober blame provoke! 
Let them not witness what should be repos'd, 
Long, ere the wakeful dawning is disclos'd! 
They rise refresh'd, and leave the sop'rous bed, 
By morn and health, companions blithe, forth led. 
Whilst you those sweets, by heedless means divest, 
And listless discontent—estrang'd to rest. 
Who seek the favours of right health and wit, 
Must to the voice of nature's call submit. 
But

87
But if you flight her, vainly may you woo, 
For her attendance, when your wishes sue. 
Expect not downy ease shall be allow'd, 
But, as you her disciples, are avow'd. 
Ye! who would “ hope to guide your course aright, 
“ Go, seek when shade proclaims the middle night, 
“ The house of sleep”—there may you comfort find, 
In rest of body—and repose of mind. 
Give sleep to night—and vivify by day, 
Is what creation's good examples, say, 
When shades descend—and darkness on this world, 
As from the realms of Erebus is hurl'd, 
One gen'ral sense all nature would inspire, 
And shed around somniferous desire. 
Tranquility, with night, in fables dwells, 
And to the frame sleep's peaceful message tells. 
Allures the mind its loss to renovate, 
And for the light fresh action to create. 
Thou saint—ey'd light! to lovely Venus dear,* 
Delightsome ev'ning! thy dim garb I cheer! 
Advanced image of approaching night, 
In whom the sessile limbs of toil delight! 
Soft
* See Greek Idyl. 

88 
Soft sober twilight! nurse of tender thought! 
With gentle, dewy, fertile blessings fraught! 
With thee! nor orb of day or night I want, 
Nor would I on the starry gems descant. 
For with thy shades I often slowly tread, 
And humble pleasures in thy aspect read. 
Thou solemn season! on thy dusky wing, 
Repose, and silence ever with thee bring! 
Whether bright luna, or the star of love, 
Watch roscid plains—or unseen by us, move! 
With thee, the clouds hang 'midst the mantle grey, 
Ere other orbs bestow a friendly ray. 
When brighter light retreats from our domain, 
And lengthen'd shadows stretch across the plain. 
Reason then slumb'ring on the mental throne, 
Awaking fancy gilds each scene alone. 
Whilst on the breezes, whisp'ring notes, now steal, 
Like distant soundings of the sea's appeal. 
As fiercely on the rocky shore it laves, 
And spreads the murmurs of its dashing waves. 
Like mingled voices, which from towns resound. 
Where commerce and the noisy arts abound. 
Oft

89 
Oft have I hail'd thy visionary hour, 
Its magic reign, and right of mimic pow'r. 
Oft, have I prais'd, thy pure and soothing sway, 
More pleas'd by it, than with the charms of day. 
Oft as the busy world from toil retires, 
Shall minds like mine, with thee calm their desires. 
Court thy wan light—now heeding day no more, 
Whilst pleas'rous vot'ries crowded haunts explore. 
Far I, from these—more happily have stray'd, 
And thought true peace the tenant of the shade. 
Or, when the moon, high thron'd in cloudless skies. 
When nought, a vapour, dew or mist supplies, 
To veil her albid beauties from the sight, 
Shines the resplendant luminant of night. 
Pleas'd have I view'd her mild and tranquil beam, 
On mountain rest—or tremble on the stream. 
My soul then calm—seem'd like the season fair. 
Releas'd from pain, and ev'ry mortal care. 
How solac'd then, has been my solemn heart, 
By sweets which modest ev'ning could impart, 
Kind mistress of night's hours! thy humble ray 
Attends the trav'ller, on his day—spent way; 
When

90
When weari'd nature seeks her due repose; 
And leaves thy gleam each object to disclose. 
Whilst the sweet songster of the umbrose night, 
Breaks the wide silence that invests the night. 
Deep hid, she warbles, from the secret grove, 
And cheers the steps that with her vigils rove. 
But when obscur'd, the fading shadows flee, 
Warned, by night! I seek my couch with thee. 
Giving to Him, to whom for rest I sue. 
That gratitude, which, is alone his due, 
I quit, for sleep, my half unfinish'd theme, 
With hopes to meet thee, Clara! in a dream. 
Ye sprites! with fairy wing to me approach! 
And wast me by your aid to Clara's couch! 
I haste to meet her, in the airy view, 
Till day shall bid me wonted tasks renew. 
Now, gone, the nightly hours, with moments fleet, 
With morn once more, I live my love to greet. 
The day again, for her my care invites, 
And thus affection for it's Clara writes:—
O may unnumber'd days refresh my eyes! 
With looks on Clara, happily to rise! 
'Tis

91 
'Tis but for that, I mostly life request, 
Depriv'd of that—I bow to Heaven's behest! 
As seeking sleep—I court the godhead's aid, 
In quiet mood—whilst lasts the nightly shade. 
With early dawn, so would I wish to rise, 
And wast a grateful prayer to the skies. 
Thanking the Parent of fair health and day, 
With joy I view the sun's first rising ray. 
I ever would thus, and have oft, thus rose, 
And lest fatigue the conquest of repose. 
Hailing the splendour that brings forth the morn, 
And bids fair hope all nature's face adorn. 
Where'er my limbs may kindly thus recline, 
May welcome the protecting hand divine, 
Shall my oraisons—ever so be rais'd; 
And bliss, and plenty's donor, ever prais'd! 
May sorrows not the course of light attend! 
But peace the mansion I dwell in, append! 
May sweet content! may health! may solid joy! 
The hours of its inhabitants employ! 
So pray'd my heart—when with the early dawn, 
My footsteps led me thro' the grassy lawn. 
To

92 
To where the Downs' short herbed turf extends, 
Which hills and vales connected, comprehends. 
O'erlooking those domains, more richly crown'd, 
Which tranquil Rockley's villag'd mansions bound. 
Where, artful care thy rural seat has deck'd, 
T' impose the hand of nature, and protect. 
What vari'd thoughts my musing bosom fill! 
Ascending, and whilst on the neighb'ring hill! 
From whence bewild'ring scenes divert the eye, 
In limits, that the vision'd pow'rs defy. 
Which wand'ring round—each object to pursue, 
At hand now rests, or on the distant view. 
The clouds from off the horizon arise, 
Dispers'd by sol, now seek the far-spread skies. 
Upon the wings of air they take a flight, 
And leave the hills they rested on through night. 
The valli'd mists too, like a sea wide spread, 
Now haste to leave their lowly, silent bed. 
Aurora opens now, the heavenly gates, 
And forth the rapid steeds of sun elates. 
In vari'd tints light's beams reflected play, 
And smiling, introduce the splendid day. 
Forth from his dome the eager sportsman strays, 
Whilst pleas'd, around, each well train'd dog, him, plays. 
Him, 


93 
Him, from whose bitub'd gun's unerring aim, 
The winged tribe no life's escape can claim. 
Around the ripen'd gifts of Ceres rise, 
In joyous plenty of the year's supplies. 
A numerous flock-with twitt'rings seek to share, 
Their claim'd proportion of autumnal fare. 
And now begins the labour of the swain, 
To homeward lead the produce of the plain. 
The torpid shepherd, bred to hardy fare, 
Leads forth his feeding, slowly wand'ring care. 
Whilst watchful, near, his strict companion lies, 
Or, as his message bids, obed'ent flies. 
The willing dog—whose heedful act commands, 
All, that his Master's words, or look demands. 
Whose daily work, distinguish'd by light deeds, 
But little with variety succeeds. 
Where, on the grassy turf his flock he leads, 
There, where, his steps in thoughtless mood now treads, 
Far other acts, in passed years were fam'd; 
By others trod, in martial numbers nam'd. 
There, on the plain, now stands each circled bed,* 
Where sleep the relics of the honour'd dead. 
N There,
* Barrows. 


94 
There, all that now remains of them, resides, 
Yet undisturb'd, in rest sepultur'd 'bides. 
Far hence removed from annals that can trace, 
Traits—that denote them, of the brave or base. 
Perhaps opponents of some hostile band, 
That rear'd their banners on yond' entrench'd land *. 
Where further from the view remotely plac'd, 
The works of ancient pow'r, and art, are trac'd. 
Whilst gaudy monuments in work sublime. 
Have moulder'd victims of consuming time, 
Those tombs remaining hostile to decay, 
Have ages brav'd, and ev'ry boist'rous day. 
Far, in the western vale's retir'd retreat, 
Where, hence, the eye not penetrates their seat, 
Those faxile masses—in moss colour rude, 
Upon the earth—in rugged form intrude. 
Now in a mode irregular, display'd, 
Or, as by rules of antique will array'd. 
When superstition's dark myster'ous night, 
On ignorance, spread forth the pagan rite. 
A spot that, fit, their doctrines to instil, 
When shading trees, o'er grew each neigh'bring hill. 
Where
* Barbury (castle) so called. 

96
Where wond'ring awe might aptly contemplate, 
The priestly knowledge of the ways of fate. 
Whilst from the altar'd-rocks, expands a beam, 
Which from the fire of sanctity wou'd gleam. 
And through each avenue shoots forth a ray, 
Where near them, shone, the brighter god of day. 
Ye PILES OBDURATE! whence your former birth? 
Now sinking to the mansions of the earth. 
Your weather—beaten forms now lowly rise, 
To meet, scarce chang'd, the blasts of many skies. 
Whilst round your hallow'd seat, the shepherd's heed, 
The sparing herbage ruminating seed. 
Or, on your confines, now, the plough and spade
By culture's hands upon your site invade. 
No precepts of tradition hence arise, 
Nor presage drawn from well wrought sacrifice. 
Which Druid' minds in cunning forms suppos'd, 
And to the weak in mystic sense disclos'd. 
Around you hovers oft' the preying bird, 
Or the hoarse raven, on you perch'd, is heard. 
The rook industr'ous, in his daily ways, 
Oft' midst your lone, and quiet precincts strays. 
And near you, oft, the vagrant swallow hies, 
Whilst fleeting far, pursuing food he flies. 
Though


96 
Though now, nor yet, companion of these lands 
His wants, his stay, Wilthona's bounds demands. 
Avoid, YE FAIR! with thoughful prudence pause, 
Ere yet subjected to—a baneful cause. 
Which softers sickness—shun the morbid snare! 
Which tempts to danger, follow nature's care. 
She smiles to see her childrens happiness, 
And find her rules of health, bless'd with success. 
Cast round your eyes—and let creation speak, 
Then blush to find your fortitude oft' weak. 
See, you! asham'd!—the rudesh creature wise, 
Whilst you their just example oft' despise. 
They, following the laws of wisdom's plan, 
Excel their titled king—vain fickle man. 
See, the frail maid—who scarcely dares to try, 
The rights of exercise, beneath our sky, 
Or feel a breeze—yet, let th' illumin'd hall
Bespeak amusements—or the nightly ball. 
All tendent dangers willing, she defies; 
And not a wish—as ought to be—denies. 
At morn, the night's lov'd auspices, seem far, 
The day, too slowly, lingers on his car, 
To

97 
To bring th' assemblage, that she wou'd behold, 
In each excess—by fashion's modes extoll'd. 
In toil rejoicing, bound in custom's chain, 
Such as from which, consid'rate minds refrain. 
Elate, and flushed, with imagin'd glee, 
She bids her servor in extremes be free 
With gay emotion—whilst each transport grows, 
Beats in the pulse, or on the visage glows. 
Quick from the breast the heaved gales arise, 
And panting respiration—quick'ned flies. 
No supposition now the minds alarms. 
Lost, in possession of its' present charms. 
Now is the rash imagination blaz'd, 
As on ideas' lofty summit rais'd. 
That subtle spirit, which enflames the will, 
And bids the mind it's phrenzi'd thoughts fulfil. 
Enthusiasm! no rigid maxims dreads, 
But ardour over every effort spreads. 
Impression! that the youthful mind receives, 
And with the heart of liberty, but lives. 
Flame of Genius! from the realms sublime. 
That lives with early years—and fades with time! 
Inspir'd by thee! the eager soul disdains. 
The conscious whisp'rings of ensuing pains. 
No

98 
No fears attack, suspicion nought avails, 
Till sad experience the mind assails. 
As—shou'd, thus hurri'd, in this practice bold, 
An adverse sense it's potent force unfold. 
Shou'd night's fell damp, or cold depressing breeze. 
The heated victim in her vent'rings seize. 
The sudden stroke, in ev'ry mischief rise. 
Repels the vigour æstuant of life. 
Then shrinks the vapour that the surface guards, 
And rapidly, flies to the inmost wards. 
The pores declare the errors of excess, 
And close, in witness, of the sad recess. 
Excess! joint compact, of intemp'rate mood, 
The foe of ease, and ev'ry placid good. 
The friend of languor, and its tyrant sway, 
Which, all debility's frail tribe obey. 
With blameful habits, hand in hand, it treads, 
And to the goal of disappointment leads. 
Delusive joy! high rais'd on pleasure's brink, 
Ye soar awhile—and then to sorrow sink. 
Fatal extreme!—what shall the deed appease, 
But the dire symptoms of a caus'd disease. 
Henceforth, it steals upon the languid health, 
And routs its wholesome laws, by certain stealth.
The

99 
The hopeful source of happiness, is quell'd, 
And all it's salutary aims expell'd. 
So, wounded, falls, what expectation view'd,
As by a suing conq'ring foe subdu'd. 
Such, hasty errors—thoughtlessly oft' met, 
Some have remembered with long regret. 
With tears repentant, blam'd th' incautious fault, 
Which doom'd their early years to Death's assault. 
Contesting in a painful dang'rous war, 
With Pneumony—or weeping harsh Catarrh. 
Whose symptoms, pendent on afflicted sense, 
Arouse—and bid a foe, it's deeds commence. 
When seizing on a Phthisic form detail'd, 
And disposition on that race entail'd. 
Hereditary progeny 'fore nam'd, 
Of Stamina peculiarly fram'd. 
Thus unprotected—vainly, oft' oppos'd, 
The paths of injury are hence disclos'd. 
Dreadful Hoemoptysis—and febrile train, 
Are baneful leaders to ensuing pain. 
In feeble form, and rutile visag'd hue, 
Whose conflicts, respiration, wou'd subdue. 
Constant

100
Constant in urgings, on the lungs impress'd, 
With teizing cough—the enemy of rest. 
Bursting the bonds which vital streams attire, 
Augmenting ills, with inflammation dire. 
Till desp'rate tokens of the hectic tribe, 
Their certain traits, upon the frame inscribe. 
Not e'er beheld, but with a fear forlorn, 
Though oft' with all it's flattering wiles long born.
Now burning with Pyrexia's alarm, 
Now temp'rate, bidding hope it's nurstling charm. 
Seeming to woo with convalescent face, 
Whilst leading on to death, with certain pace. 
Now with constringing frigid touch it shakes, 
The pallid frame, which lethal sense partakes. 
Then, calid, with the nightly shade it treads, 
And anxious tumults o'er the suff'rer spreads. 
Triumphant now each paroxysm assails, 
With thirsty parchings that no aid avails. 
Throughout the looks, the pulse, the tyrant reigns, 
That binds the fev'rish victim in its chains. 
Whose tristful feelings, every day intrude, 
Form'd by the finger of inquietude. 
Each function is disturb'd, which health ordains, 
And unappeas'd impediments retains.
Scarcely

101
Scarcely does morn enjoy a kind relief, 
Though flatter'd with a wish'd quiescence—brief. 
The morn, that springs with joy, upon health's store, 
Thy prospects, scarcely, dare in thought implore. 
To languish in a madid dewy bath, 
Pour'd by the efflux of each porous path. 
Vainly, now, calmness, can the day receive, 
Though cheer'd by apyrexia's reprieve. 
Kind internal! but with insidious smiles!
Which leads to ruin—whilst its ease beguiles. 
Scarce known or felt, so as to be enjoy'd, 
Ere soon again, its sweets are all alloy'd. 
Exacerbations, count again the scenes, 
And daily doom, to former, supervenes. 
Thus miseries in morbid shape rotate, 
And harmonize strict' with th' eventful state. 
A fontful source, which life cannot divest. 
Fix'd, tyrannizes in the dolent chest. 
Rules in the lungs with grasp of might, intense, 
And issues sanguine—sputed purulence. 
In pantings frequent—coughs' distressing length, 
Malific to the toiling, fainting strength. 
Doom'd to its goal, by long, and slow decay, 
To unrepell'd assaults, a waning prey, 
O With




102 
With voice raucidinous, and sinking breath, 
So winds along, the stream of life, to death. 
And num'rous more evinced sad effects, 
The muse, ineffable, not here elects. 
Calamity! what, tokens yet succeed! 
To trace the mischief of the morbid deed. 
The fault'ring corpse, is led by certain force. 
In ling'ring progress on its destin'd course. 
A dying lambent flame—so life departs, 
Averse to sustenance by medic' arts. 
To its last ebb, now gliding with decay. 
The spark now glimmers it's support away. 
Fix' in despair—yet HOPE still animates, 
And soothing confidence in aid creates. 
The drooping frame to raise—that FRIEND contends, 
Like as the trembling drop that yet appends, 
Shook by the gales—that passing by it, slit; 
Unwilling still, its tender hold to quit. 
Proud son of Phœbus! canst thou stem the ill, 
“ With all thy boasted implements or skill? 
“ Or all thy well cramm'd magazines of health?”
Bestow them here—and crown thyself with wealth.
Deflower'd




103 
Deflower'd figure! wreck'd remains, how Frail!
What thoughts or care, can now thy life avail! 
Weak skeleton! of what thy kindred knew, 
And lov'—and what the world cou'd pleased view. 
And viewing love—and e'er the pleasure own, 
To love thee more, the more, and truly known, 
I see thy tabid state—emaciate shade! 
Pursu'd by death—whose shafts thy life pervade. 
Thy harass'd breath—and ev'ry symptom fell, 
Effects how doleful! which denote thy knell. 
Each known prognostic, in its full extent, 
Presages sure th' approaching sad event, 
Cadav'rous looks, o'er all thy former, rise, 
Sunk cheeks—deep hollow orbs—and vapid eyes. 
Where life but hovers—destitute of ease, 
And seems to look for kind, and quick release. 
For life alas! no joys for thee retains, 
Whilst destitute—thus vital health remains. 
Autumn's rich, mellow tints, or summer's charm, 
May please—and much the healthful bosom warm. 
With morning's dewy feet, enliv'ning spring, 
May stores of gayest bloom, or plenty bring. 
Or blasting Winter, rise with rugged pow'r, 
Whilst social pleasures bless the ev'nings hour. 
But





104 
But not for thee—comes autumn's vari'd die, 
Nor smile the fruits of earth—nor shines the sky, 
No more can spring thy blighted hopes restore, 
Or summer's splendour—give it's bounties more.
Not cheered by the bright—rais'd, solar ray, 
Expanding flow'rs shall deck for thee, the day. 
The light that glads each herb or leafy tree, 
Beams but a joyless influence on thee. 
Nor can the gay, domestic circle prove, 
Thy ease—nor hence, thy morbid hours remove. 
Far—far—beyond the reach of human art, 
Lie the sore wounds, which now their woes impart. 
Scarce can the opiate's aid, with lulling pow'r, 
Beguile the vigils of each night's long hour. 
For sense, and mem'ry, still those pains avow, 
Which cancels sleep—nor scarce relief can know. 
The tender cares, the relatives of life, 
That soothe in youth, the daughter, or the wife, 
By death's cold hand, shall be relentless torn, 
Nor shall the season of thy years adorn. 
The wreathe of hope, so fair, by fancy wove, 
By friendship softer'd, and compos'd by love, 
Destroyed in misfortune's baleful doom, 
Here, with thy expectations ne'er shall bloom. 
No




105 
No essay, now, the ultimate defeats, 
Th' expiring mortal, willingly retreats. 
“ Taught half by reason, half by mere decay, 
“ To welcome death, and calmly pass away.”
In virtue, yet unstain'd, the mind submits, 
Resign—this passing world, in peace it quits. 
The heart still sentient of impressed thought, 
Rich is, with goodly expectation fraught. 
It's vivid sentiment does not abscond, 
Though still the habitant of frailty's bond. 
Without regret, it yields it's mortal breath. 
And smiles with reason, in a friendly death. 
For conscious innocence, all fears dispels, 
And ev'ry doubt of future blessings quells. 
Whilst the tongue fault'ring, scarce' to sound gives
birth, 
As vision fades, upon the orb of earth. 
The low sigh'd whisper, seems a wish to tell. 
That breathes to all—here left, a last Farewell. 
THE END. 



7 
ERRATA 
IN THE POEM. 
Page Line 
5 11 for admired read admir'd 
13 8—food read good 
17 15—sigh read sighs
29 2—in Poeonians delete s 
31 8—for need read meed 
37 21—varied read vari'd 
39 22—add' to thoughts and delete the sequent comma after it. 
3—sway read say 
43 16—respird read respired 
45 6—of the note for nox read mox 
53 1—to read so 
54 4—or read but 
56 22—after satisfaction insert a comma
62 3—for know'st read know
63 14—the realms read thy
15—which read where, 
16—explored read explor'd 
65 10—after despair insert a comma 
21—for unsullied read unsulli'd
73 16—an read And
19—unalloy'd read unalloyed 
77 24—i in Paroxism insert y 
83 19—rugged read froward 
84 3—studied read studi'd 
87 15—sables read sable 
92 6—for impose read improve
95 3 in rocks delete s 
97 11 in minds—s 
101 9 for internal read interval 
102 1—raucidinous read raucedinous 
























PHTHISIOLOGIA 
A 
POEM 
MISCELLANEOUSLY DESCRIPTIVE AND DIDACTICAL: 
IN FOUR 
PARTS.



PHTHISIOLOGIA
A
POEM
MISCELLANEOUSLY-DESCRIPTIVE AND DIDACTICAL;
IN FOUR
PARTS.
To which are Prefixed
CERTAIN
PRELIMINARY,
AND
PHISIO - MEDICAL OBSERVATIONS,
AND
ADMONITIONS.
I'M ALL SUBMISSION WHAT YOU'D HAVE IT MAKE IT.
Pope.
LONDON :
PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR ; AND SOLD BY THOMAS BOOZEY, NO. 4
OLD-BROAD-STREET, NEAR THE ROYAL EXCHANGE.
1798. 




PRELIMINARY
AND
PHISIO-MEDICAL OBSERVATIONS
AND
ADMONITIONS.
CONTENTUS PAUCIS LECTORIBUS.
-NAM SATIS EST EQUITEM MIHI PLAUDERE :
HORATII SEBMONUM L. I. ECLOGA 10




PRELIMINARY,
AND
PHYSIO-MEDICAL OBSERVATIONS
AND
ADMONITIONS.
THIS prefatory part, is meant to convey to the reader, such ob-
servations relative to the sequent Poem, as will not, I hope, dis-
please him ; they are such as accrued to the Author upon reperusing
this, and may be considered as elucidating it, and making the
whole suitably explete. Though they are chiefly medical, I hope
they will not be less appropriately useful and pleasing to the
generality of those who may deign to read the work. However
that may be, I will not intrude the reasons which induced me to
give them ; it appears unnecessary, as well as the motives which
have introduced the author thus to public notice. In withholding
these, he dare not attempt to apologize for those defects, which
perspicuous minds will without doubt, perceive in his work.
Should he produce his apologies, he imagines, they would be only
like the covering, of such a veil, as is worn by some females of the
present fashion ; which, though it may coincide with the purpose
of their ideas, is easily seen through, by the wearer, as well as
others.
The Poem, was not composed for those only, who are accus-
tomed to read medical writings ; if it had, it would have more
minutely adhered to the subject ; and have included more matters
intrinsically relative to that. The design was intended for the
world in general, when the publication of it was resolved upon ;
though no flattering sentiment ever pervaded the writer's mind,
that any extensive circulation of it would ever take place ; or that
it was endow'd with such attractions as would allure the notice of
a the


iv
the multitude. In the small number, who may vouchsafe to bestow
their attention and candour, there may be those, who may not be
much informed of the branch we have sketched ; and who may
consequently, be grateful for reaping any advantages which there
is a probability they may, from these admonitions being premised ;
which will follow in the order they are met with in the Poem,
unless, where any subject, more immediately attached to another,
could be rendered more clear, by their being aggregated.
Whether I have done any thing in the whole, deserving of ap-
probation, those to whom it is now submitted, will determine ; my
own diffidence, whatsoever may be the fate of it's production, has
but a lowly station to fall from; expectation has never lifted it, by
its eagle wings : it has long had an intimate acquaintance with
disappointment : though the familiarity has not done away that
sensibility which this has power to awaken.
Whilst I avow, that I have often affixed blame to this enterprise,
when I considered, the little of originality of sentiment or know-
ledge, I was giving to the world, I sometimes found a degree of
consolation, that the manner only of diffusing some degree of in-
formation might meet with commendation ; and as to what I am
now to offer, in this part, I shall only, upon that idea, think any
merit can be claimed ; because, I seldom mean to presume, upon
giving more than the opinions of those, whose sentiments I
have been taught, and writings which I have had it in my power to
consult. Hence, may I be accused, justly, of " printing what
was published long before," and condemned, because
" If nought peculiar through your labours run,
" They're duplicates, and twenty are but one."
The title of this Poem has been anticipated long ago, in a differ-
ent work *, to which it is more applicable perhaps, than to this ; as
being a professed treatise upon PHTHISIS.†
The
* Phthisiologia. Auctore R. Morton, M. D. Londini.
† Defined by Cullen to be an expectoration of pus, or purulent 
matter,


v
The word CONSUMPTION, has been used as a generic term for
emaciation ; but its application has been more generally made to
that disease of the lungs, which so often is attended by bodily
decay.
Our allusions, now, are only made to that pulmonary affection,
which is most properly idiopathical ; and which is supposed to arise
in those, whom PREDISPOSITION prevails ; according to the
sense of construction it has commonly been used in.-As a state,
established in the body, favourable to the production of disease,
whenever any analogously noxious power, or occasional cause *, is
applied to it † ; though, perhaps, it may be better to adopt the
opinion and words, of a celebrated Author ‡, who calls it, a state,
matter from the lungs, attended with hectic fever*." First Lines
of the Practice of Physic, 853. But in his Synopsis Nosologiæ,
where it is mentioned as the sequel of hœmoptysis, he adds, " Ema-
ciation and debility, with cough"
Phthisis pulmonaris est consumptio totius corporis, cum febre,
a mala affectione, et ab ulceratione pulmonum taudem originem
ducens.
De Phthisi pulmonari originali. Morton. loc. cit. See also an
Essay on the Nature and cure of the Phthisis Pulmonalis, by
T. Reid, M. D. 1782, p. 2.
* All diseases are brought on by some external application to the
body or mind ; and this is called occasional cause of a disease,
Fordyce.
† Gaubii clariss. Pathologia, § 75 ; and on predisponent mor-
bisic cause, § 59. Prædisponens dicitur conditio quævis corpori
inhaerens, qua illud aptum est, nata conditione, morbum suscipere.
‡ Vide Joannis Brunonis, M. D. Elementa Medicinæ, editio
Edinburgi, 1784, Cap. I. § 8. Cap. VIII. § 73. and edition (of the
translation) by T. Beddoes, M. D. § 77 and 78.
* A definition of which, he also gives in his Synopsis, p. 80 ; but with
an added note, that he does not consider it as an idiopathic (primary) disease;
judging it, as I believe it is, by most physicians now, only a symptom
of some topical affection, and most frequently accompanying a purulent
state of the lungs. First Lines, 74, 861, 858. Reid, Ch. IV. et seq.
a2 intermediate,


vi
intermediate between perfect health and disease ; a state of the
body which recedes from health, and approaches disease, in such
a manner as to seem still within the boundaries of the former, to
which, however, it bears only deceitful resemblance ; predispo-
sition, and disease, differing only in degree, and that whatever with
a given force produces the latter, when acting with a less force will
produce the former. And, as noxious powers producing disease,
produce also the predisposition to them, we may say, that such as
are really in this state, or if born so, are under a degree of the
disease.
This condition, or DISPOSITION, has been, by most authors,
termed hereditary, and by some, an indelible and irresistible im-
pression, derived from the parents * ; one of the most fertile stocks
upon which any exciting cause of this disease can be grafted.
Observation having noticed, that families who were of a weak and
delicate race, were much attacked by phthisis ; and, that as the form
and character of body, as well as the mind, descended from parent
to child, it was thus deemed hereditary. Morton † places the
question, whether the disease affecting has attacked a patient sprung
from phthisical parents or not ? as a consideration necessary for the
diagnostic ; and mentions that condition, amongst the remote, or
pre-existent causes of Phthisis.
Howsoever this really is, it may be observed, we have assumed
it as a datum in our poem, wishing only to remark now, that pro-
* Ad phthisin proni-Qui phthisi indelebilem, impressionem
a parentibus, licet, irrestituibiles, sunt tamen duiturniores. Obs.
Diagnosin Spectantes ; authore C. Benedicto, M. D. Londini, 1656.
† Dispositio etiam hæreditaria sæpè sæpius Phthsin pulmonem
infert, cum omnibus sit satis notum natos a phthisicis parentibus
in eundem morbum esse proclives. Loc. Cit. p. 70. De causis
pro catarcticis. Ortus a parentibus phthisicis; si quidem iste morbus
(quantum mihi observare licirit) est præ ceteris omnibus hæredi-
tarius, p. 74. De signis diagnosticis.
bably


vii
bably there may be little good foundation for such an opinion, but
as agreeable to the preceding idea of Dr. Brown's *.
* We may rightly give the same reasoning here, which he uses
respecting the gout. Those who differ from the opinion, let them
be guided only by facts, in this as well as in phthisis.
" A taint, transmitted from parents to their offspring, and cele-
" brated under the appellation of hereditary, is a mere tale, or there
" is nothing in the fundamental part of the doctrine. The sons of
" the rich, who succeed to their fathers' estate, succeed also to his
" gout : those who are excluded from the estate, escape the disease
" also, unless they bring it on by their own conduct. Nay, if there
" be but two diseases, in the strict sense of the word, they must be
" either all, or none of them, hereditary. This supposition makes
" the noxious powers superfluous, which have been proved to be
" every thing respecting disease ; and, as it is, therefore, absurd,
" so the truth of the latter opinion must be admitted. The
" stamina, or simple solids, are so given in our first conformation,
" that some persons are distinguished by a rigid, others by a slender
" state of the whole mass. This variety of the stamina, if the ex-
" citing powers upon which the whole phœnomena of life depends,
" be properly managed, admits each its respective state of health,
" suited to its respective nature, and sufficiently good, if the
" excitement suited to each be kept up, by a proper direction of
" the stimuli. Though Peter's father may have been afflicted
" with the gout, it does not follow that Peter must be affected
" because, by a proper way of life, that is, by adapting his ex-
" citement to his stamina, he may have learned to evade his father's
" disease. If the same person, who, from his own fault, and im-
" proper management, has fallen into the disease; afterwards, by
" a contrary management, and, by taking good care of himself,
" prevents and removes the disease, as it has been lately disco-
" vered. What then is become of hereditary taint?-A certain
" texture of stamina is favourable to certain forms of diseases
" (which forms are of no consequence), so that, when the ex-
" citement is adapted to the stamina, even those forms can be
" prevented or cured." Elements of Medicine, edited by Beddoes.
603, et seq.
If


viii
If a child is exposed to the same causes which have noxiously
affected a parent, he, probably, will be liable to the same diseases
the latter was.
It is from the variety of appearances, in the condition of the
body and mind, that the descriptions of different TEMPERAMENTS
have derived their origin, as given by different authors ; though,
perhaps, upon little just foundations : for the characters of each,
as so given, are by nature so much intermixed, in each person,
that they seldom admit of a specific name being given, as pre-
valent in each habit. Such an establishment of the distinction of
temperaments, has been handed down from Hippocrates, to the
present day, with very little variation *.
Dr. Simmons considers whiteness of the teeth as a distinguishing
characteristic, or as a mark of predisposition to phthisis. Dr. Reid
says, he has only observed it in some patients. Our own attention
confirms this.
The clearness, or fairness of the skin, in persons ill of phthisis,
or previously disposed to it, has been generally noticed. And
with regard to complexion, or the colour given to the exterior sur-
face of the body, it may be understood from the following : From
the distribution of the vessels carrying blood, which may vary in
colour, from a high florid or pure red, to a tint of yellow ; for,
as Dr. Fordyce † says, the blood flowing in the blood-vessels is
scarlet, that is, a mixture of red and yellow ; in the arteries, the
yellow is more or less lost in its passage through the capillary
vessels into the veins ; but whilst circulating, a portion of the
yellow is still retained by the veins ; the skin, which is divided
into the scarf, or outward part, or cuticle, the true skin, and mem-
branes of a particular name, which lie between, is colourless ; so is
the cuticle, which is transparent ; but, a part of the membranous
lining is not so, being of a lighter or deeper brown ; that is, a
mixture of red, with a less proportion of yellow and blue than
* The sanguine, melancholic, choleric, and phlegmatic.
† See a Dissertation on simple Fever, p, 55.
constitutes


ix
constitutes white or grey. It is this part, which, seen through the
cuticle, gives the colour which the person is seen to have ; and is
of different shades, according to climate, from black, brown, to
yellowish. In the negro, from its colour, it is more easily dis-
covered, than in the European, of fair complexion. It gradually
acquires more colour as age advances ; since children are fairer
than adults ; in undergoes, also, a change in the European, when
exposed, in hot climates, to the rays of the sun.
That mixture, constituting the colour, is not always the same, in
different people ; sometimes it is such, as to approach more to
white, and sometimes more to grey ; thus governing what is called
complexion.
Though we have chiefly taken our example described, in the
predisposed form, from the young and beautiful *, having an allu-
sion to the object, whose fate first suggested the idea of this work,
but, it will he observed, we have drawn another state, wherein
MALCONFORMATION or DISTORTION of the CHEST is obvious,
and which, experience teaches us, is aptly to be reckoned amongst
* Whom, with the ingenious, are the ordinary prey of phthisis.
Et hæc generis humani strages immanis in juvenes præcipue cadit,
sæpe in formosissimos, præcipue sequioris sexus, et in eos qui in-
genio, et animi et corporis elegantia, præstant. And how often
have you to lament that it fastens upon the objects of your fondest
attachment ; after whose loss, this busy world will seem to you as
a cheerless desart! Pauci sunt quibus cognati, familiares ant amici,
hac peste abrepti, non sunt lugendi. Misera hæc tabes, sæva,
atrox, et insensibilis, teneros et amabiles depascens, cæde et luctu
patriam implet. I am aware of the interest which a child, con-
suming by a slow decay, must excite in the bosom of a parent.
Full allowance, however, being made for the effect of compassionate
affection on the imagination, it will often appear, that the most
amiable individuals of a family, are really singled out by consump-
tion.
De morbis cœli mutatione medendis, p. 326, and Letter from
Dr. Beddoes to Dr. Black, p. 3.
the


x
the predisposing causes of phthisis ; wherein, the habit is slender
and weak, the organs of respiration being, by that confinement
which the bony structure makes, impeded in the free exertion of
their office ; hence, the ease and freedom of the circulation of the
blood must be also restrained.
In the note, quoted * from the Latin poet, a figure of a phthisical
person is depicted ; which, for the sake of the English reader, may
be thus rendered :
His frame, so destin'd by his luckless fate,
In life speeds onward to the tabid state.
Who, from an offspring, phthisical akin,
Derives his frail entailed origin.
Whose lungs a salty phlegm most often taints,
Or the chest grieves catarrhous, with complaints.
In whom the pallid and emaciate face,
And through the form, we, want of vigour, trace.
Whose weak and raucose voice, imprison'd pent,
From strict confines, with labour'd breath is sent.
Whose stork-like neck, in lengthen'd shape extends,
And from the peaked shoulder's height appends.
Whose blades, like as an eagle's wings dilate,
With prominence, as in a fleeting state.
Why thus, perhaps, this semblance should be made,
Why on the phthisical these modes invade ?
Knowest thou not ? It hence may be suppos'd,
With this intent, comparably, disclos'd.
Such form, denotes the system cannot share,
Long, on this orb, a sickle vital care.
But, like the eagle, ready hence to fly,
It soon shall seek the distant realms on high.
This straightness of the chest, may be, as Morton says, either
* See Poem.
natural


xi
natural or accidental * : natural, when the form, from parental
similitude, grows from infancy ; as may be often observed in those
who are called chicken-breasted. The sternum, or front bone of
the breast, standing forwards, with a convex form, or depressed in-
wards, in the lower or other parts ; the extremities, or cartilaginous
parts of the ribs, on each or one side, flattened, where the proper
curve ought to be, as it is in those who are healthily and propor-
tionately formed. The accidental may be acquired from circum-
stances, in those whose family form has no such tendency ; which
may cause curvity, depression, or distortion of some part of the
bony defence of the lungs.
The causes which may effect distortion of those parts, may often
be traced to those circumstances which induce debility in the in-
fantile frame ; or, to a certain state, ab origine, of the constitution,
unfavourable to the healthy progression of ossification ; which
mysteriously prevails in some, without being understood, or being
justly accounted for, upon any certain or well-founded reasons.
Bad nursing, is well known to be a most culpable cause of debility
in all children ; consequently, it must more particularly affect those
who are weakly from birth, and whose natural stamina have a ten-
dency to that; in such, subjected to that neglect, many miseries are
produced and entailed on their future lives. Under such treat-
ment, how often do rickets afflict! under the idea of bad nursing,
we include the neglect of proper clothing, inattention to exercise,
cleanliness, and good air ; want, and abuse of, proper nutriment.
Children require to be warmly and softly clothed, and to have that
clothing changed, as often as cleanliness requires : whilst the skin,
also, to ensure the latter, is attended to, with suitable washings,
frictions, gestation, and motion. The utility of these will naturally
lead to a change of places, where the air is in a fit state for re-
respiration ; from confinement in close dwellings, where a number
of people crowded together by day, and sleep by night, vitiate
the air, and render it unfit for respirable sustenance to the human
b race.
* Phthisiologia, p. 70, 74, 76, &c.


xii
race. Infants require more of food, in proportion to their size,
than adults ; as experience has told to all those who have a plea-
sure in supplying and superintending their necessities ; they re-
quire it also, frequently to be given, in such proportions, and of
such a nature, as will not burthen the stomach, or allure the palate
to take more than is requisite.
A sedentary inactive life, is, to all, prejudicial, if long continued.
During the growth of the body it is particularly so, especially if it
is confined long in any one posture, interrupting the free extension
and action of the limbs, or causing unequal pressure upon other
parts of the trunk. The restraint which dress formerly imposed
upon youth, especially females, seems, in that fault, to have been
successfully combated by the opinions and precepts of authors and
others ; who have gained a conquest over some absurd fashions and
anile sentiments ; to the great advantage, in shape, health, and
pleasure, of the present and future generations ; for now, ease,
and gracefulness, seem to have formed a league against, and suc-
ceeded to, stiffness and formality. The restrictions which apparel
formerly imposed upon ladies, seem lately, by some present
fashions, to be exploded by them, and eagerly accepted by gentle-
men, whose various ligatures, if not inimical to health, are at least
strongly at variance with comfort.
The necessity, therefore, of attention to the infantile state, cannot
be too strongly enforced ; and ought never to be forgotten by those
under whose care they are ; nor by those under whom the youth
of both sexes are placed in their juvenile years ; that whilst the
cultivation of the mind is indubitably needful, and attended to,
those liberties which are necessary, in air and exercise, for the
security of healthful form and vigour, should be liberally indulged
in, as well as the requests of the appetite for food, and the body
for clothing ; so that the rising generation may say with the Poet :
Such the reward of rude and sober life ;
Of labour such. By health the peasant's toil
Is well repaid ; if exercise were pain
Indeed,


xiii
Indeed, and temperance pain. By arts like these
Laconia nurs'd of old her hardy sons ;
And Rome's unconquer'd legions urg'd their way,
Unhurt, thro' every toil, in every clime.
The TEMPERAMENT we have noticed, which is supposed most
prone to the species of phthisis we allude, may be called the
sanguine ; or such, in whom there is a softness, whiteness, and
delicacy of the skin, a slender form of body, fair and ruddy com-
plexion ; in which the colour of the venous vessels are distinctly
traced, the eyes generally blue and the cheeks florid *; the hair of
an
* From the appearance of similitude in the temperament of those
disposed to scrophula and Phthisis, the analogy of the two diseases
has been deduced, and " from observing that a Phthisis, at it's
" usual periods, frequently attacks persons born of scrophulous
" parents ; who had been afflicted with scrophula in their younger
" years-and even when no scrophulous affection has either mani-
" festly preceded or accompanied a Phthisis, this last, however,
" most commonly affects persons of a habit resembling the scrophu-
" lous ; that is, persons of a sanguine, or of a sanguineo-melancholic
" temperament, who have very fine skins, rosy complexions, large
" veins, soft flesh, and thick upper lip : and further, that in such
" persons the Phthisis comes on in the same manner as it does in
" persons having tubercles. Cullen. Cor. cit-at. 879.
" The only dissimilitude which I have been able to ascertain be-
" tween them, and which by no means can be considered to consti-
" tute any essential difference in the characters of these diseases, is
" in the time of their attack : scrophula being for the most part,
" observable in the earlier part of life, and Phthisis at a more
" advanced age. In fact, therefore, the phthisis pulmonalis seems
" to be nothing more than scrophula arrived at the years of
" maturity ; more formidable certainly in its advanced age than in
" infancy, in proportion as the seat of it's affection is of greater im-
" portance of life, than the diseased glands of an earlier period.-
" The best histories of scrophula teach us that laxity and delicacy
to 


xiv
an auburn, reddish, brown, or light colour ; and of little strength :
as opposed to that of the melancholic temperament, where it is
generally strong and black ; in the choleric, blackish ; and in the
phlegmatic white. The cellular texture and muscular fibre, is soft
and tender. With such a condition of the body there is combined
much sensibility of mind, susceptible of the finest impressions of
tenderness and sympathy.-The irritability, as generally under-
stood, great ; the genius quick, and the imagination chearful-the
strength of the body moderate and active-its figure rather disposed
to plumpness or obesity, to plethora or fullness,-the heart being
active, and rather strong, (with respect to the system of blood-
vessels) to hoemorrhagy, inflammation, and hysteria * ; to colds,
catarrhs, consumption and scrophula †.
Such a constitution as this, in the female sex, we have assumed as
the model of our description ; which includes an allusion to that
case which is often tuberculous, or the florid consumption. The
species of this disease which have been enumerated by medical
writers are very numerous, besides this-but the " distinctions
" founded upon the states of the body merely imaginary, or such as
" are not characterized by signs obvious to the senses" are justly
exploded.
" of fibre are the distinguishing features of persons who are subject
" to it. The same appearances constantly mark the predisposition
" to phthisis pulmonalis. The circumscribed redness of the cheeks,
" and other symptoms of phther, are equally common to both dis-
" eases. This plethora is the immediate consequence of that laxity
" of muscular fibres, which pervading the whole of the vascular
" system, occasions the blood-vessels to admit a larger quantity of
" blood into them, than in their natural condition they are capable
" of receiving ; and produces that local congestion in the face, and
" that distention of veins, which are found to accompany scrophu-
" lous and phthisical patients."
Essay on pulmonary Consumption, by W. May, M. D.
p. 38. & seq.
* Treatise on the Materia Medica, by Dr. Cullen, Vol. I. page
112. & seq.
† Essay on the Materia Medica, by W. Moore, p. 35.


xv
exploded. " I am nevertheless disposed to think that there exists
" a more essential difference between different cases of Phthisis
" Pulmonalis than the British practitioners in general seem willing
" to admit. This difference appears to be clearly indicated by the
" symptoms ; and it would probably be completely ascertained by
" dissection, if it were more the custom to open the bodies of per-
" sons who die consumptive. Two varieties or two species have
" lately appeared to me to be well marked ;-the first may perhaps
" be termed the florid, in which, especially during its approach
" and towards its commencement, we perceive at the time of the
" accession of feverishness, the vivid redness of the cheeks, as well
" as an extraordinary permanent redness of the lips, of the tongue,
" and fauces. The eyes too, in such cases, are remarkable for their
" vivacity. The blood, discharged by epistaxis * or hoemoptysis †,
" has a colour evidently more florid than usual. The other variety
" sets in at least with very different symptoms, and has been called,
" on account of the prodigious expectoration of mucus at its com-
" mencement, the pituitous or catarrhal consumption ‡."
There appears to be, in every constitution prone to hoemorrhages
and catarrhose complaints, a condition of debility-and when such
effects take place, we may argue that there is some depraved state
of the lungs ‖-a frame incapable of bearing exposure to different
changes, in the habits of life, or to those causes which endanger
increase of debility--not to be compared to such a hardy race as
Sallust § mentions, healthy, vigorous, and capable of sustaining
labour,
* A bleeding from the nose.
† A discharge of blood from the lungs.
‡ A letter to Erasmus Darwin, M. D. by T. Beddoes, M. D.
p. 6, & seq. & 26.
‖ Hæc signa debilem quidem universi corporis habitum mons-
trant : pulmonum autem pravam fabricam præsertim nonant.
Dissertatio medica inaugurales Gregorio auctore claris-
simo, ex Thesauro Medico, Edinensis, Tom 3.
§ Genus hominum salubri corpore : velox patiens laborum :
plerosque senectus dissolvit nisi qui ferro aut a bestiis interierê, nam
morbus haud sæpe quemquam superat. De bello Jugurthino.


xvi
labour, who sink to the grave by the force of age rather than dis-
ease, unless they are priorly so unfortunate as to perish by the
sword, or become the victims of the beasts of prey.
In the temperament of decreased irritability, as defined by Dr.
Darwin *, subject to consumption, and to all other diseases of
debility, there is observed a largeness of the aperture of the eye,
which, he says, has by some, been reckoned a beautiful feature in
the female face, and indicating delicacy ; but to an experienced
observer a mark of debility ; therefore a defect, and not an excel-
lency-debility is the mark of this temperament, which, is most
frequently found amongst females ; and narrow-shouldered men.
Popular opinion supposes those who are of such a temperament, to
be more irritative, according to the common acceptation of the
word : but in reality they are not so : for defect of irritation, and
excess of sensation alone, most frequently produce disease in the
temperament of sensibility-for irritability, and not sensibility, is
immediately necessary to bodily health ; when there is excess of
sensation, there is increased activity of all those motions of the
organs of sense, and muscles, which are exerted in consequence of
pleasure or pain-such are liable to inflammatory diseases ; and to
that kind of consumption which is hereditary ; and commences
with slight repeated hoemoptoe.
The circumscribed floridity of the cheek, may not always be pre-
sent, before evident advances of the disease have taken place. In
the
* Zoonomia, Vol. I.
† Dr. Darwin queries, whether the iris (pupil of the eye) does
not generally become more contracted just before and just after
Phthisis commences ? Though it is impossible not to perceive the
acuteness of the argument from the habitual dilatation of the pupil to
the inirritability of the system, do not some appearances shew more
decisively still, that the system about the beginning of consumption
is highly irritable ? Being soon heated by small degrees of stimu-
lant diet before debility comes on.-Even so, I do not understand
why in an irritable state of the body, the iris should be unirritated.
Letter to Dr. Beddoes, p. 71.


xvii
the progress of the disease, it is evidently marked, upon the pale
face *; as well as the pearly appearance of the tunica aduata † of
the eye. During a paroxysm of hectic, the redness is truly evi-
dent ; the lips also, and tubecules in the inner canthus ‡ of the eyes,
are brighter than when in health §.
" The hue of the hectic countenance, clear, bright and flushed,
" diametrically opposite to the scorbutic complexion, affords some
" presumption of a state of the blood, equally receding, but in op-
" posite direction, from the standard of health. The countenance
" of persons flushed by exercise or food widely differs from that
" vermillion bloom, which is mistaken by the uninstructed for the
" sign of health, though it is the harbinger or attendant of an
" incurable disease. On holding the hand of a consumptive per-
" son against the light, the semi-transparency of the margin of the
" fingers and joints is, I think, evidently of a more vivid carnation
" in consumptive patients."
FREQUENCY AND FATALITY OF PHTHISIS IN
THIS ISLAND.
Experience, and constant observation prove, that there is suffi-
cient reason to be convinced of this ; without mentioning what
the Bills of Mortality vouch for in London : or the registers of
other parishes.
There
* Cullen, p. l. 860.
† That part called the white of the eye.
‡ Or angle, where the eye-lids embrace each other, near the
nose ; where the little red tumour, called lacrymal carunele is
seated.
§ Reid, p. 10. loc. cit.


xviii
There is no disease which afflicts Britain, that despoils its inha-
bitants more than this ; hence the desirable object of attaining the
possibility of preventing, and the utility of enquiring into the
causes of it : whether we consider the devastations which it makes,
or the objects which are most its prey. It is from this frequency
and fatality that it has been repeatedly deemed an endemic *.
The causes of this are difficult to be ascertained, whether we
institute an enquiry, upon the idea of its being of a scrophulous
nature, or not ; or we allude to the nature of the climate ; or our
manner of living, and clothing.
Respecting Scrophula, though it may be more prevalent here,
than it many other countries we are acquainted with, we dare not
determine that it arises from the effects of climate altogether ;
because it has been occasionally observed in all, and in all situa-
tions, whether cold, hot, humid, or temperate : and has been no-
ticed in all ages †-but, is supposed to be more prevalent, in cold
and humid countries, than in the temperate and dry-not being so
frequent in Italy, as in this island-in Spain, the accounts we have,
leave this still dubious-in Ireland its frequency is said to be more
than here ; as also, in the western parts of the island, than in the
eastern : as is imagined, to be owing, to the greater humidity
which is found there. It may be said however of this, and Phthisis,
as was said on another occasion,
Ere yet the fell Plantagenets had spent
Their ancient rage, at Bosworth's purple field ;
While, for which tyrant England should receive,
Her legions in incestuous murders mix'd.
And daily horrors ;-
Albion the Poison of the gods has drank ‡.
It might be conjectured, that every inhabitant of a climate, was
by
* Dissert. inaug. Gregory.
† Gregory loc. cit. p. 331. & seq.
‡ Armstrong loc. cit. B. III. L. 531, 533, & seq. 


xix
by nature, originally adapted to that in which it was placed ; since
we find no irrational animals, naturally, in sites improper for
them : therefore, that mankind, might live under all the varieties,
and inclemencies of their native climate, without injury, provided
they lived according to the laws of nature. In many instances, we
find people in a rude and uncivilized state, little attending to the
unfavourableness of climate, live in health and vigour ; although
daily exposed to the variableness of such a climate-for, not until
the arts which civilization induced, were known, capable of de-
sending from all inclemencies, of promoting ease, and pleasure, and
familiarizing indulgence and luxury, did people begin to com-
plain of the unseasonableness of weather, and the dissatisfaction of
situation. The unlettered savage, though well acquainted with,
and avoiding, the pain and uncomfortableness of an unfavouring
heaven, does not suffer so much, if chance exposes him to it, as
when it becomes the study of his knowledge to avoid it, by the
introduction of means of peculiar protection and convenience ;
which, in future, may render him more susceptible of the evils he
so carefully sought to avoid-his fears and guardian solicitudes,
aided by his arts, thus ultimately, ceteris paribus, may become the
causes of noxious effects.
The mode, therefore, of avoiding such injuries, is by endeavour-
ing to promote that strength, and hardiness of body, which, whilst
it cannot avoid occasional dangers, vicissitudes, and inconveniences,
may be able, without detriment, to encounter and bear them. But
the elegancies of life, and the capacity which a wealthy state finds
for enjoyment, are often at variance with the right mode of pro-
moting, or attaining such advantage *.
The accomplishing of a robust habit, in such constitutions as we
are treating of in our poem, cannot be gained by immature exposure
to cold, and inclement weather, while in infancy ; as has been
attempted by some, by walking in cold air, little clothing, and the
indiscriminate use of the cold bath ; especially, whilst the structure
c of
* Gregory loc. cit. p. 318. 


xx
of our dwellings, and their pleasurable conveniences, and degree of
heat in their rooms, are of so opposite a nature. By which, infants
or young persons, and even adults, after being exposed to the
effects of cold, will, on returning to so different a state of air, be-
come daily exposed to a cause of inflammation and catarrh ; cir-
cumstances, which cannot be too much avoided, in the phthisical,
scrophulous, or any habit. To the former of which, most particu-
larly, a middle temperature of air will always be the most safe, and
invigorating. " Children are so susceptible of inflammations, that
" a great part of the mortality among them is, as far as I have
" observed and can judge, to be ascribed to the ignorance of mo-
" thers and nurses of the power which even a moderate change of
" temperature, if suddenly made, has to affect their tender and irri-
" table frame. Hence in part the populousness of countries equally
" warm, those gardens of the earth, equally calculated to rear and
" support its inhabitants *."
VARIABLENESS OF THE CLIMATE.
From the earliest time, and by the most ancient writers on the
subject, it appears, that mankind paid much attention to the at-
mosphere, as influencing their feelings and their health ; hence in
all ages, and by all nations, great considerations of, and observance,
were made to it, in the choice of public situations, and private
habitations ; according to climate and season.
But that remark may seem misapplied, when we consider the
form and structure of large and ancient towns in some places ; in
which
* Observations, &c. Beddoes, p. 155. 


xxi
which, our ancestors seem to have paid little attention to the ad-
vantages we value so much, of ventilation and cleanliness. Per-
haps, the closeness and manner of compacting buildings after the
first establishments took place, may have been influenced by the
effects of policy, safety, or necessity ; for few places will be found
to be defective in local and natural advantages, of the considerations
we allude to, on their being founded.
Observations have frequently and reasonably been made, that
those countries are the most salubrious, in which an equal state of
weather, serene and temperate, prevails-and that those which are
hot, very cold, or humid, are more dangerous ; especially if subject
to sudden changes of the weather-but whatsoever may be the
general state of the weather, in any clime or season, whether hot
or cold, those, as Celsus has noticed, which are most uniform in
their continuance, are the best for health ; the variable, the most
inimical to it. We can add our own experience in confirmation of
this, having often remarked, that during any kind of weather
which takes place, in the situation we have mostly resided in, that
the end of the duration of the time, which it has continued, if of
any considerable extent, has been mostly favourable to general
health, provided no particular epidemic disease prevailed. And
that even when the weather has been of that nature, which is
deemed by vulgar opinion to be unwholesome, if it has been per-
manently uniform, little ill health has been manifested, so that
there may be great reason for this idea, that it may be " unfor-
" tunate for the inhabitants of this country, that we are not sub-
" jected to such a continued severity of cold, as should oblige us
" regularly to fortify ourselves by warm clothing *."
Our atmosphere has been said to be generally composed of those
states, which are understood in the common acceptation of the
language, of warm and moist, cold and dry †. Often have we seen
it, for four or five summer's months, temperate, and for the most
part
* Observations, &c. Beddoes, p. 161.
† Burton on the Non-naturals, p. 87.


xxii
part serene, dry, constant, and in every respect benign and salubri-
ous ; whilst the remainder of the year has been cold, humid,
variable, and consequently favorable for the effecting many diseases.
This variableness of our climate, so stigmatized, and so much
deemed repugnant to the health of the Phthisical, may upon reflec-
tion, be allowed to be a cause adequate to the effect ; at least, that
it is peculiarly calculated to excite pulmonary inflammation : with
the concurrence of other circumstances *.
Ought we, upon viewing the average state of the climate of this
island, whilst we make the conclusion we have done above, to call
it unhealthy ? We think not ; and probably facts will warrant us
in making such a conclusion. Let us attend to what Claromon-
tius † says ; and surely, since his time, no great or general altera-
tion can have taken place in our skies, whatever changes may have
happened to our habits or manners.
The Sun, the source of heat and light, and fosterer of life, attends
Britain, as long as may be, with its enlivening presence ; whose
lands, it not more cheers than it fertilizes, by its beams. In sum-
mer it extends the day seventeen hours ; and in winter, when it's
presence must attend and illumine another orbit of the world, as if
unwilling to divert his chariot from this spot, he seems to delay
with it, and allows seven hours for the shortest day-which circum-
stances, whilst I contemplate them, would lead me with incredible
satisfaction, to believe, that no climate could be more salubrious
than Britain.
Yet, that Author seemed to think, on considering the diseases
which the inhabitants are subject to, that the air must not be so
conducive to health. But, we are not willing to attribute the mis-
fortunes of this kind, which we find mixed with our lot, altogether,
to such a cause ; nor, are diseases in general, more frequent or more
numerous here, than in other parts of the globe. He attributes
much to the prevalence of the atmosphere we have in our insular
situation ;
* Obs. Beddoes, p. 149.
† De Ære, aquis, et locis terræ Augliæ. Londini, 1682, p. 15. 


xxiii
situation ; and condemns such an island in general, as more insalu-
brious than the Continent ; because of the frequent existence of
mistiness *, undissipated by the sun †.
In England, really, he says, the sky is mostly thick and loaded
with clouds, not only in winter, but in the middle of summer.
Scarcely ever is it serene, but more generally similar to autumn or
winter weather, no day is there altogether fair ‡, it either raining
wholly, or there is a haziness, or sometimes rain for many days
continuance ; with a heavy stifling atmosphere. Which is the cause
of many diseases, especially in autumn. This is what we were
able to know of Britain, as far as some years' experience would
allow us ; and as such we would have it to be understood gene-
rally. For here, some situations are more salubrious than others.
We find here, the earth bound by frost and snow for many
months ; and that not only, not far from the sea, but even on the
very shores. And even now whilst I write, the days seem quite
wintry, though in May. I am surrounded with such a thick and
dark atmosphere **.
He
* Those roving mists, that constant now begin
To smoke along the hilly country, -
Thompson. Autumn, L, 734.
† Quippe infirmissima quæ que, cœlo sunt obnoxia maxime. In
universum autem insalubrioris esse cœli quam Continentem, per-
multis probari documentis potest. Et quo longius in mari positæ
a Continente recessere, eo graviorem esse ærem constat, ob nebulas e
mari evolutas, quæ vix, ac ne vix quidem a sole dissipantur. Idque
non æstate solum, sed etiam hyeme, imo etiam rnagis. Non tum aer
tepescit obsolutas nives. Tepidus autem aer insalubrior.
‡ - by the cool declining year condens'd,
Descend the copious exhalations, check'd
As up the middle sky unseen they stole,
And roll the doubling fogs around the hill.
** - thence expanding far,
The huge dusk gradual swallows up the plain :
Vanish


xxiv
He gives us the following sentiments, on the regimen of our
ancestors, at a particular period, after having mentioned their kind
of diet, and its effects. However, certainly by such evils, after
constant civil wars, they have learned temperance. For as I was
informed by certain elderly people, the English, before the civil
dissentions, lived in much festive indulgence and luxury ; enjoying
in rotation, at each one's habitation, long continued feasts, with
copious quantities of liquor. And, commonly, there was no one,
howsoever humble his state, who did not liberally treat his neigh-
bours, as well as strangers, with kindness and hospitality*. But what
took place afterwards, when civil discords rent the minds of the
people ! What not only did injury to science as well as the comfort
of social gratifications. After, I know not what kind of a religious
frenzy seized the minds of the people, disturbed peace and over-
turned the order of all things ; the custom of invitation and
visiting fell into disuse. Doubtless, as it seems, for the purpose
of cultivating a different religion ; every person then looking upon
his neighbour with a suspicious eye-hence religion reconciled
their manners to pristine simplicity.
Yet, as few evils do not afford partial good, he observes, one
thing seems to have been derived of benefit (from the civil cala-
mity) that in general, every where the profuse meat at supper was
neglected, which was accustomed to be in such vogue-whence,
one great support, and cause of many diseases, was done away †.
We
Vanish the woods ; the dim seen river seems
Sullen, and slow, to roll the misty wave.
Ev'n in the height of noon opress'd ; the sun
Sheds weak and blunt his wide-refracted ray.
Thomson.
* As Ovid says, Metam. L. II. 94.
Orgia tradiderat cum Cecropio Eumolpo,
Qui simul agnovit socium, comitemque sacrorum,
Hospitis adventu, festum genialiter egit.
† Claromontius, p. 46. 


xxv
We present those observations to the curiosity of the Reader,
the diffuseness of which, we hope will not appal ; and leave them
for his own comments. Though our years, see the most lovely of
the inhabitants of this Island, often a prey to Phthisis, so as to
fix a blame upon its climate, and though our atmosphere be
drenched often, with misty obscurity, and such attendant gloomi-
ness, as may attach horrors to the hypochondriac ; yet, the wise
and active Briton will not suffer oppressed fancy to be deceived,
nor blame his skies for, Novembrile mischiefs, fell with tædium
vitæ, which oftenest arise from other urgent causes : but will still
with patriotic ardour and love, animatedly, say with the Poet :
England, with all thy faults, I love thee still ;
My country ! and while yet a nook is left
Where English minds and manners may be found,
Shall be constrain'd to love thee-though thy clime
Be fickle, and thy year most part deform'd
With dripping rains, or wither'd by a frost,
I would not yet exchange thy sullen skies
And fields without a flow'r-for warmer France,
With all her vines ; nor for Ausonia's groves
Of golden fruitage, and her myrtle bow'rs *.
Which alterations, truly, with native love may reasonably be
allowed ; seeing with truth it may be said, with the Author we
have so lately much attended to †, to be opulent ; abundant in
riches
* Task, a poem, by Cowper, B. II.
† Claromontius loc. cit. p. 10, & seq. who further says in
praise of this
" Island of bliss! amid the subject seas,
" That thunder round thy rocky coasts set up,
Quod si ex fœcunda lætaque rerum omnium productione, possumus
de æris bonitate ferre sententiam : prosecto Britanniam aëre frui
longe


xxvi
riches of every kind, eminent men and women, the most adorned
of their sex.
Britannia! hail ; for beauty is their own,
The feeling heart, simplicity of life,
And elegance and taste : the faultless form,
Shap'd by the hand of harmony ; the cheek
Where the live crimson, thro' the native white
Soft-shooting, o'er the face diffuses bloom,
And every nameless grace ; the parted lip,
Like the red rose bud moist with morning-dew,
Breathing delight ; and, under flowing jet,
Or sunny ringlets, or of circling brown,
The neck slight-shaded, and the swelling breast ;
The look resistless, piercing to the soul,
And by the soul inform'd, when dressed in love,
She fits high-smiling in the conscious eye*.
What is called catching cold, has been frequently inveighed
against, and attributed to the variableness of our climate ; it is an
effect
longeoptimo confitendum est. Nam omnia illic grandiori nitidiorique
forma prognata benignius fovet aletque tellus, quam alibi locorum
ubi videtur aer est salubrior. Non enim mulieres modo numerosa
beatas, pulchraque sobole cernas : sed equis : sed reliqua etiam
animautia multiplici fœtu usque renas scentia cum admiratione
perspicias. Illic boves enormi magnitudine, illic equi turn formosi
tum perniciosissimi, illic canum ingentium et immani rictu formi
daudorum magna vis : illic denique cum virorum turn fœminarum
ad spectabilis et erecta decoraque species, summo cum voluptatis
sensu visitur. Coloreis floridus, læcta frons, vivaces oculi, sub-
flava promissa cæsaries, totus habitus ad elegantiam compositus.
Solum vero ipsura uberrinum, statis anni temporibus, omni bo-
norum genere colonos, floribus, herbis, arboribus, frugibus.
* Thomson's Summer, l. 1580. 


xxvii
effect which opens the way to the worst consequences. " The
" origin of genuine Phthisis may generally be traced from hoe-
" moptysis, or blood issuing from the lungs, from what is termed
" taking cold ; and sometimes from external injuries,*" yet
such a cause how often do we see disregarded, by those who are
most liable to injury from it; for, as Cullen observes, it is often,
upon one or other of these occasions of catching cold, that the
incipient cough of Phthisis begins†, and ultimately proves fatal
to multitudes.
Under such a state of climate, young persons are more subject
to debility, from the impediments to due excitability which they
are subjected to-that debility which in the Phthisical habit should
be obviated ; whilst the causes promoting inflammation are avoid-
ed, the former of which is most efficaciously succeeded in, in a
temperate climate.
The absence of a certain degree of heat, strengthens the body,
generally speaking ; giving vigour to it, and energy to the mind,
by constringing the capillary vessels of the surface, it abates per-
spiration, hence the blood is propelled in an increased volume
towards the heart. In consequence of which the vital principle
is accumulated, and the reaction of the heart and arteries, sends
back the blood with an increased velocity and power to the sur-
face of the body ; so as, in an healthy state, to diffuse a genial
warmth. Such an application of the degree of heat, which does
not carry off the heat of the body too fast, gives, what is called
tone to the whole system, proves a powerful stimulus to the sto-
mach, creating thus a keen appetite for food, with a sense of
lightness, alacrity, and strength ; as those experience, who live in
a cool dry air, and maintain a suitable degree of exercise ; having
for the most part, strong and active health, with good digestion,
and a complexion which bespeaks those.
D the
* Reid loc. cit. p. 6.
† P. l. 890. 


xxviii
The extremes of cold are unfriendly to the constitution, as
well as those of heat. In this climate we are more liable to be
exposed to an excess of the former, than the latter. The relative
power of cold, with respect to the living human body, is that
power by which a sensation of cold is produced in it*.
Under the effects of warmth of season those who have betray-
ed symptoms of Phthisis have found them disappear ; as the
afflicted in winter, have experienced in our climate in summer.
Which circumstance, has often afforded a fallacious idea that a
cure was effected ; and that those means which were exhibiting at
the time were the promoters of it. A deception alas! but too
frequently well ascertained, by the recurrence of symptoms in
winter and spring†. Such a state has been known to be repeated
several times during life, and has been observed in those constitu-
tions, in whom during spring there appeared to be a great determi-
nation of blood to the lungs. By the appearance of Pus, which has
been exscreated, concomitant with other signs, incipient Phthisis
has been denoted ; all which, have ceased in summer.
Under poverty of diet, particularly, the same observations have
been made respecting scrophula-the complaints attendant on
which, seem often to commence, or to be aggravated in winter, to
increase in spring, decrease in summer, and are often entirely re-
moved in autumn ; though they are again renewed in winter‡.
Thus considered, summer may be deemed the most healthy
season for the Phthisical ; but some think, winter is not to be con-
demned as the most dangerous. Spring and autumn, are judged
to aggravate complaints of such a nature most, on account of the
distribution of the blood being more disturbed by the sudden
changes of weather, which are prevalent in those times. In sum-
mer the perspiration is more increased, and the blood more deter-
mined
* Cullen p. l. 89.
† Cullen, loc.cit. 896. Gregory loc. cit. p. 333.
‡ Gregory p. 331. & seq. 


xxix
mined to the surface of the body by the warmth of the air ; and
thus, less fluidsdetermined to the urinary excretion-In winter the
reverse takes place-In autumn, that equilibrium between the
kidneys and the surface of the body, is not so regular ; hence a
greater determination, often owing to the irregularities of the wea-
ther, to the lungs. Yet, though in winter things may so take place,
in the system of the body, yet often sudden changes of the wea-
ther disturb this uniformity ; as well as the greater cause we make,
by the difference of the air in our dwellings, and that of the air
out of doors ; for whilst in the latter, it may be extremely cold,
we may maintain great warmth in our houses ; and the exposure,
and change from one to the other, causes irregular, and often
sudden changes in the distribution of the blood. In summer the
external air being warm, obviates the need of fires within doors ;
and thus places are in a more equable state of warmth, which ren-
ders them more congenial, and less disturbing to the constitution ;
and the perspiratory function, except from violent causes, is sel-
dom suddenly or violently interrupted or changed from its uniform
cutaneous discharge.
To obviate such effects, attention should be paid to avoid sud-
den transitions from heat to cold ; or from cold to heat, and the
surface of the body should be suitably defended by cloathing, ac-
cording to the season, or the obligation, which necessary transitions
imposes upon us, so that they may not be suddenly felt.
OF THE MANNER OF LIVING AND CLOATHING.
If we have been diffuse, according to the manner and nature
of what we have brought forward, respecting the variableness and
intemperateness of climate supplying certain remote causes of
consumption : we do not mean to say much on the subject of
diet in this light ; and of cloathing we shall speak afterwards.
D 2 It 


xxx
It must be allowed by all, that the abuse of stimuli in food
and drink, is, the source of numerous diseases of an insuperable
nature ; and hastens the decay of excitability too rapidly. This
indiscretion, at all periods of life, is too often exemplified ; but
more particularly is to be regretted in juvenile years.
To the sanguine constitution, such abuse must always be ob-
noxious, tending to promote extreme irritability at one time ; and
debility ultimately-The application, in which state, of exciting
causes may promote hoemoptysis and pulmonary inflammation.
To females, such an abuse of excitement in the articles of food,
perhaps is not so extensively applicable ; nor to the many cases,
which we see afflicted, from causes, scarcely to be traced in that
sex. But the degree of excitement in every frame must be allowed
to be relative, hence, how is the precise medium which most
favours health to be described, or is it possible to be observed
and adhered to ?
UNSUCCESSFULNESS OF MEDICAL KNOWLEDGE.
The difficulty which has been experienced in the cure of idio-
pathical phthisis, cannot in the present state of our science be a
degradation to individuals to acknowledge ; though we lament,
it is so, to the art: and is much to be regretted by humane in-
dustry and desire especially, when we take a retrospect of what
little advancement has been made to this end, since the time of
the primitive medical writers. Celsus* says, if there is a greater
degree of disease, than what he has before mentioned, it is neces-
sary to oppose its progress in the early stage ; for when it has
continued long, it is not easily subdued.
Morton
* Quod si mall plus est, et vera phthisis est, inter initia protinus
occurere necessarium est: neque facile enim hic morbus, cum in-
veteraverit, evincitur. l. 3. c. 22. 


xxxi
Morton confirms the opinion of Celsus, and adds, that phthisis
arising hereditarily, or in mal conformation of the chest, for the
most part is fatal ; because, the cause which produces it, is be-
yond the reach of our art: though, he admits that it may be
cured* in the spring season, the approaching warmth con-
ducing to this ; but observes afterwards, that often this hercu-
lean disease, by certain means becomes incurable ; either because
the physician, which not unfrequently happens, or from the
flattering nature of the disease, or carelessness and parsimony
of the patient, is consulted too late† ; or, lastly, from the igno-
rance of the physician, who not having a right knowledge of
this disease, in its various stages, understands not therefore the
proper method of treating it.
We have made an allusion to this difficulty, in confessing, in
our poem, the little addition, through the lapse of time, which
has been made beneficially to our knowledge; yet we do not
mean, whilst we confess our little power of controul over the
disease, to allow that it is in itself absolutely incurable : we are
more inclined to give with Cullen‡, the failure to the imperfec-
tion of our art. Of this opinion is Dr. May§; and Dr. Reid
does not believe, the disorder in its own nature, is attended with
so much danger as has been usually apprehended ; and, that the
opinion of its fatality being so generally received, has weaken-
ed
* Æqui ac caeteri morbi, he says, De prognostics p. 134, 135.
† " Nor has wealth yet, been able to provide a barrier capable
" of resisting its invasion ; few, except the needy, neglect to call
" in the aid of medicine, and many doubtless steadily pursue
" the directions they receive ; nevertheless, rich houses are every
" day, discharging into the grave, victims to this disease."
Beddoes' Letter to Dr. Black, p. 2.
‡ loc. cit. p. l. 899
§ loc. cit. Introduction, p. 8.
‖ Essay p. 66.


xxxii
ed the efforts of the physician-we would willingly in general
believe not. Patients and their friends have often been im-
pressed with this idea, when medical attempts have not produced,
as expected, the hoped success ; and thence have relaxed in their
endeavours, and been unsteady in their adherence to medicine and
regimen ; but this is not an observation, applicable only, to this
disease, or to such patients ; practitioners in physic know the
difficulty of bringing their patients to, and persuading to a per-
severance in, an observance of rules, which interrupt established
habits and pleasures : especially if the disease is of that nature,
which is likely to be protracted ; besides, as the last author says,
the opinion of friends and attendants, often interpose and frus-
trate the desires of the physician ; as few of those, are without
some specific remedy, for the cure of a consumption.
We believe, notwithstanding those impediments, as well as
opinions and errors, which have long been held, perhaps ad-
versely, to right reason and experience ; that the assurance, that
the disease " is curable at any period, before the vital strength
" is greatly broken down, and the Stomach and digestive facul-
" ties rendered incapable of assimilating nourishment*", is rather
yet unqualified, if we may speak from our knowledge of ge-
neral facts.
If we take, phthisis in the light it is viewed by some, as a cer-
tain form of scrophula†; we may venture to say, though many
advantageous and successfully curative improvements, have been
made in the treatment of scrophula, yet we know very little of
its real nature, or the cause of the disease. If it is " a contami-
" nated habit of body, some latent vitiated principle in the
" constitution, upon which the fatality of consumption has de-
" puted."-Do we know what that is ? if not, how are we to
know how to correct it ? therefore till then, we wander only in
the dark ; with such facts to guide us as successful experience
has in some few instances furnished us with : and it avails little,
to
* Essay, &c. Reid, p. 68. † May's Essay.


xxxiii
to be told, that " whatever tends to correct that principle, and
" to improve the general habit of the constitution, will be found
" best appropriated to the cure of phthisis* ;" nor, is it any more
consolation to reflect, that there is a certain peculiarity in the
Phthisical, which is not explained, though by most allowed ;
and, that when its morbid state is evident, is more often sub-
dued by physical causes, whose mode of operation we are little
acquainted with, than by medical powers.
We still want the right means of distinguishing with exactness,
the different kinds of consumption, at least, more so, than they
have generally been ; not only to guide our diagnostic but our
practice† from the want of this, and a better insight into causes,
our prognostic is only established upon the knowledge of con-
stant ill success, and is therefore, always unfavourable, in every
stage of the complaint : and particularly so, if there is reason to
suppose that the scrophulous diathesis is, as it has been termed,
called into action.
Dr. Beddoes, says, not much seems to be gained, by ranking
phthisical tumors and ulcers of the lungs, among scrophulous
complaints. We have no very successful method of treating
scrophulous sores wherever seated.-Not to mention that very
different ailments are comprehended under a term so conveni-
ently vague. I see no hopes of transferring any useful ideas from
the external appearance of scrophula, to the internal form of the
disease ; if they should be essentially the same, of which I am by
no means satisfied‡. In resolving tubercles, the analogy of scro-
phula gives no assistance in this matter ; for the remedies which
are useful in scrophula, do not avail for that intention§.
There does exist, as Dr. Withering confirms, a truly scrophu-
lous consumption ; but according to his words, it is a rare, and
not
* May's Essay, Introduction, p. 19.
† Letters from Dr. Withering, &c. p. 11.
‡ Observations, &c. Beddoes, p. 112.
§ Cullen, p. l. 907.


xxxiv
not incurable disease, if the treatment be properly adjusted to its
nature ; but the treatment which I have repeatedly found suc-
cessful here, would only hasten the florid consumption to its
fatal termination*.
We have reason, for concluding, therefore, that much remains
yet to be done, to give greater certainty to our proceedings in
the treatment of consumption. The active industry of the pre_
sent generation, aided by the improvements and lights which
chemistry offers, and an increase of physiological knowledge, will
no doubt, it not altogether successful in its efforts, contribute
amply by its endeavours, to do away the defects which remain.
Hope seems now to have a more substantial support to lean upon,
than what the vague opinions, and theories of our ancestors
afforded ; dependence upon the futile and inert medicaments to
correct humours, used by them, seems now to be dethroned ;
the acquired reputation of most of which, probably arose from
the sanative changes in the body, produced by age and season.
To this, we attribute much of the character which has been at-
tained by QUACK and SPECIFIC MEDICINES, so constantly offer-
ed to the world under every species of advertisement. To the
natural actions which take place in the system, producing a
curable effect, under the use of a particular medicine, have those,
given in phthisis, as well as other diseases, which would often
perhaps have taken place sooner, without such interposition,
been raised to the highest rank of laud and trust ; there to receive
the adulation of their votaries, and sway their usurped authority
over the confidence of individuals, and often of the multitude,
till the time when perspicuous observation, and scrutinizing ex-
perience removes the veil, which concealed the truth of their
ineffectual power. So, often, does one physician by being em-
ployed after another, at a particular period of disease, bear away
the palm of honour, and the fruits of a joyful victory : to whose
fame, built perhaps, on the care and prior attention of another,
constant Paeans are sung in future, full of confidence and admi-
ration.
The
* Letters 


xxxv
The number of specifies which oppose themselves daily by
their recommendations, as allured remedies, to the eyes, for
coughs, colds, and consumptions, would seem to contradict the
above sentiments ; but the author does not condemn them with-
out reason and experience, having frequently exhibited them
from his own inclination ; as well as when willing to give
way to the desire of the patient, to try the most celebrated of
them, in various stages of the disease ; he has superintended thus,
their use and watched their effects, without seeing any beneficial
consequences curatively, or with so much palliative ease as can
be attained, perhaps, more safely by generally well known me-
dicines.
Perhaps, it may now be expected, that we should give our sen-
timents on the particular means which have been used in the
CURE of PHTHISIS, and offer also a plan for it ; but such a de-
tail comes not within the scope of our present design, nor would
the state of our experience warrant an attempt of the kind, it
could not therefore afford information to one class of readers, or
amusement to others ; hence an apology will be obvious for the
little that has been said on this head, in the poetical part of this
work.
On the PROPHYLAXIS, or the Means of preventing or guarding
against PHTHISIS.
Perhaps, with propriety, more may be written with the
hope that greater certainty may accompany it, than what we
could be flattered with from any doctrines of cure. Considering
therefore, the difficulty attendant on this, our endeavours should
be more strongly opposed against the appearance of morbid signs ;
by, such means of prevention, as are in our power, and as pre-
E sent


xxxvi
sent, the most probable reasons for such an expectation ; it will
be found to comprise the avoiding most of the remote and oc-
casional causes, as all should be, which can, or are known, to
call the disease into action.
The observations we have to make respecting this will be com-
prised under Change of Climate, Cloathing, Diet and Exercise.
CHANGE OF CLIMATE.
It has been observed, that a variable and intemperate clime
seems to supply certain remote causes which are often removed
in a temperate state of air in another region, and thus allows
the powers of nature to effect a cure. Many opinions* and facts
confirm this, and that spending the winter in more favourable
situations, obviates when timely used, all the threatening symp-
toms which may have been felt in this island. Persons so afflicted,
therefore, should remain under such auspicious skies, and live
perpetually with summer temperature.
If, when air is of such a temperature, as with the assistance of
other operations in the animal œconomy, only to carry off such
a quantity of heat from it, so that the remainder may rightly
support the body, we say the air is mild, because we are not sen-
sible of any troublesome degree of heat or cold.
This temperature varies in different people according to cli-
mate, age, and constitution ; and of whatever degree this plea-
sing and temperate state may be, any change from it, as under-
stood by the rising of the thermometer a few degrees, makes our
sensations complain of heat or cold.
The middle temperature of our atmosphere being about 48°
Fahrhenheit, when we do not call the weather either hot or cold.
The
* The anatomy of the absorbing vessels by W. Crookshanks,
p. 178. and Thes. inaug. Gregory. 


xxxvii
The mercury seldom falls under 16°, at 24° we are apt to reck-
on it very cold ; coldish at 40° and a little above it, even we do
not reckon the air warm till it arrives at about 64°, at 80° it is
very warm and sultry*.
Heat is more readily and quickly diffused through the sub-
stance of water than the earth if the surface of that is extensive,
it will be of more equal temperature with the atmosphere than
this will be : denser bodies do not conduct heat so well as rarer,
hence water and earth retain heat longer than air, a colder at-
mosphere therefore passing over these will receive heat from
them. The coldness of a winter's wind by its passage over sea,
or land is thus moderated, and the air incumbent on the sea
will be of a warmer temperature than that on land, of course
islands, according to relative situation, may be so, more than
continents, countries which border on the ocean and lie south
of the sea, at least in our hemisphere of the globe, will be war-
mer than those which have the sea to the south of them, because
the winds which would cool them in winter if they blew over
land, are tempered by passing over the sea.
If air is of a suitable degree of warmth and is not saturated by
moisture, but is what is called warm and dry : it is in that capa-
city able to afford that refreshment to the body which it requires,
when under a state of perspiration, by dissolving the discharged
humidity: this relieves the body much when heated by exercise.
From the properties of heat and air, the body and respiration
may be affected by the qualities of matters which the atmosphere
may contain, mixed or in solution ; the peculiarities of which
may be governed by the season of the year, and the nature of the
places over which the air blows : as seas, rivers, lakes, marshes,
&c. One cause of the cold of northern climes, is attributed to
the solution of ice by wind coming in contact with it, for ice in a
thawing state, is known to indicate great coldness, to which must
E 2 be
* Essays on heat by Martine, p. 110. and seq. 


xxxviii
be added the cold produced by the heat carried off by evapora-
tion ; thus winds blowing to us in winter from those quarters
of the world where large bodies of ice are formed, affect us with
great cold-This impression is produced upon us by several
other causes also.
It is not enough for those who have felt the approach of
phthisis, and are induced to try the effects of change of air, that
they should spend only such a length of time there, as seems to
have put the alarm aside ; they should persist in their residence,
till the constitution is so fortified, and if in youth, so changed as
to be able to bear other situations with impunity. So those
young persons whose families have suffered by phthisis, and there
appears danger to hang over them, should in early years, before
complaints take place, be removed to the most genial climate,
and there remain till that age is past over, which experience has
taught us, is attended with the greatest danger*.
The advantages of Sea Voyages have been long ago pointed
out and praised†, not only in incipient, but advanced stages of
phthisis; their good effects have been differently accounted for,
from the salutary effect of exercise, sickness,and the temperature of
sea air, and its supposed properties. In different cases, each may
claim merit, but probably, in general the advantage gained de-
pends upon the conveyance of the patient thus, to a more favor-
able climate, than what he existed in on shore‡.
The expediency of performing this early in the commence-
ment of the disease is obvious, if utility is hoped for, provided
no inflammatory symptoms forbid any species of exercise ; for
from the tardiness and neglect of patients, or their advisers,
these expected benefits are too long procrastinated, and thus dis-
repute is too often brought upon the means.
Celsus
* Thes. inaug. Gregory, p. 333. & seq.
† Gilchrist.
‡ Reid's Essay. 


xxxix
Celsus admonishes us of this*, when he recommends change of
place ; that it may be early whilst the constitution is able to bear
it ; but that if imbecility forbids navigation, the gestation should
be in a litter ; so that the body may be gently exercised. In which
state of debility, the mind should be kept at ease, abstaining from
the solicitudes of business, and should be allowed indulgence
in sleep. He advises also frictions to the extremities of the phthi-
sical, and that the food taken and exercise used should be during
remission of paroxysms.
CLOATHING
When property adapted in its kind, is one of the most excellent
means of securing the weak from the effects of a variable climate;
with us it cannot be too particularly attended to, and more es-
pecially by those subject to pulmonary affections ; seeing that
daily occurrences offer to our observation, the frequent difference
there is in the range of the thermometer, and the degree of mois-
ture in the air at different times of the day, in our finest season of
the year, and that the mutability of one day from another, is per-
petually frustrating the expectations of the mind on the proceeding
day. It is necessary therefore to enforce, that those who would
not subject their feelings to unpleasantness, nor their health to
danger, should be always secured by cloathing against exposure to
hidden changes.
It is for this defence, that the use of flannel, and the softer tex-
tured manufactories from wool, have been so much advised ; being
one of those substances like furs loosely interwoven, it slowly con-
ducts heat, so that by its proper management an equable degree of
warmth may always, pleasantly, be maintained on the surface of
the
* l. 3. c. 22.


xl
the body, resisting the attack of atmospherical variety in tem-
perature*.
He well advis'd who taught our wiser sires
Early to borrow Muscovy's swarm spoils,
Ere the first frost has touch'd the tender blade ;
And late resign them, tho' the wanton spring,
Should deck her charms with all her sister's rays.
For while the effluence of the skin maintains
Its native measure, the pleuritic spring
Glides harmless by†.
In warmer weather, which may continue uniformly, those who
use exercise in it, may so manage this cloathing as not to incur the
unpleasantness of accumulated heat on the skin, urging perspira-
tion too much, whilst at the same time, the humidity is not eva-
porated ; whence too great a stimulus is excited on the skin,
and uneasiness and debility ensue. We have known some weakly
people injure themselves thus, and could point out a case to ex-
emplify this.
The connections between the surface of the body and the lungs
respecting their excretory offices, is well known ; if the perspira-
tion is injured greater determination will be made to the lungs,
and the defective discharge from the skin will often be supplied
by expectoration from them ; thus from exposure to cold, may we
see a remote cause of pullumonic inflammation ; especially if the
lungs at the same time are exposed to the action of cold air‡, for
in those who labour under some complaints of the chest, the re-
spiration of cold air produces coughing.
In
* See a Letter to the Patentee of fleecy hosiery, by Dr. Buchan.
Observations, &c. Beddoes. May's Essay, p. 46.
Fordyce's Dissertation on simple Fever, p. 145.
† Armstrong loc. cit. b. 3. l.  484.
‡ Cullen p. l. 345.


xli
In those who dwell in moist warm situations may be observed
laxity and debility of body, paleness of complexion, languor in
motion, bad appetite, &c. especially if joined with a sedentary life ;
hence cautioned the poet
Dry be your house; but airy more than warm,
Else every breath of ruder wind will strike
Your tender body thro' with rapid pains ;
Fierce coughs will teize you, hoarseness bind your voice,
Or moist Gravedo* load your aching brows†.
The long continued respiration of humid cold air, and its
application to the body, is pernicious ; for the reasons we have
given ; it cannot readily dissolve that aqueous part which issues
from the lungs, and the perspiring pores of the skin. The solids
become relaxed, and the whole system debilitated. There is no
healthy equality, maintained between the secretions and excre-
tions, The absorbents do not perform their office with right
vigour. This may be confirmed, by observing those who with
close application, follow the occupation and sedentary employ-
ment of weaving linen and muslin ; whose works require a
situation which may keep the threads moist ; a damp room there-
fore, is generally their residence, during their labour, hence
often are found amongst their complaints, diseases arising from
visceral obstructions, coughs, other affections of the lungs and
chest, intermittent, and nervous diseases, as called, if such there be?
The bloated Hydrops and the yellow fiend.
Skies such as these let ev'ry mortal shun
Who dreads the Dropsy, palsy, or the gout,
Tertian, corrosive scurvy, or moist catarrh ;
Or
* Armstrong b. i. l. 315.
† A cold affecting the head, in the nostrils and adjacent cavi-
ties, a cœtœrrhous affection. 


xlii
Or any other Injury that grows
From raw spun fibres, idle and unstrung,
Skin ill-perspiring, and the purple flood
In languid eddies, loit'ring into phlegm *.
Children, should particularly, have an uniform temperature
maintained on the skin, and young persons. We have witnessed
the loss of many lives a sacrifice to the attempt of rendering
them hardy by exposure to cold ‡, and are aware of what
some will urge, that many children are healthily brought up un-
der the rudest exposure, and under such treatment. But those
who make such an observation, have not probably, had the op-
portunities which those who attend the sick poor, medically,
have had, to know the numbers who fall victims to exposure to
cold, bad clothing and poverty of diet. Perhaps indulged with
an amelioration of this, they might be more capable of resisting
the effects of cold. From the nearer medium of the state of
heat, in the dwellings of the poor, and that of the exterior at-
mosphere, they escape the effects of those sudden transitions
which often affect children born to reside in he habitations of
opulence. " I consider it, indeed, as one of those maxims,
" which ought never to be lost sight of, if our children were
" intended all their lives to go naked, and to live in open fields;
" but since the customs and manners of this part of the world
" require that men and women through life must be perpetually
" and unavoidably exposed to dwell in comfortable habita-
tions,
* Armstrong, B. I. l. 157.
‡ " In children it is of the utmost consequence to keep the
" body cool, but never to suffer it to be cold. Thus without
" being enervated, they may escape the fatal consequences of
" heat succeeding quickly to cold ; for it is not true, as seems,
" in consequence of an analogy more or less distinctly conceived,
" to have been frequently imagined, that cold hardens children
" as it hardens steel," Observations, &c. Beddoes. 162 


xliii
" tions, to sit upon warm carpets, and to sleep on blankets and
" feather beds, it certainly behoves us to regulate their clothing
" in infancy, as equally to guard against the ill effects of either
" extreme.-In every region we may observe external warmth to
" be nearly as necessary as internal nourishment for the young
" of almost every animal. Warm rooms and impure air may
" enervate the body, but warm clothing can never be injurious
" in cold weather. I am so thoroughly convinced that pure air
" and a warm skin are indispensably necessary for children, that
" I never behold them with naked breasts, legs, and arms, how-
" ever hardy and robust, that I do not anticipate the horrid con-
" sequences of angina, of croup, or of pectoral or intestinal in-
" flammation*."
We have no information, in a medical view, of the state of
our Island when our rude forefathers inhabited it ; and of the
diseases which then prevailed amongst them: probably such as
make havoc amongst us were unknown to them. Some plau-
sible reasons to which we doubt not the reader will readily
assign.
The idea, of the necessity, of wearing flannel next the skin,
and of seldom changing it, should be opposed† ;" the first, need
not be insisted on, and the latter, should be neglected by clean-
liness. Probably the effects which took place from that opinion,
might be one means of bringing the use of woolen, so much worn
by our ancestors, into disgrace and disuse.
F Seeing
* Medical Spectator, v. i. p, 367.
† Marcidis et extenuatis vice indusiarum lintearum quae
proxime autem tangunt, admoveantur, panna Wallica lanea
molliora, contexturae purissimae, Anglice Flannin dicta, nec
saepius renoventur : hoc modo halitus sanguinei seu spiritus re-
tinentur, et ab aere minus solicitati, haud depeculantur. In-
teralaneas texturs optiame mihi videntur, quae ex hoedorum et,
ovorum inguine et emuncturis contextuntur.
Regulae vestitui dicatae, Tabidorum theatrum, p. 128. 


xliv
Seeing, the lower class of people, have it not always in their
power to acquire requisite clothing, the neglect of it by those
who have, renders the aptness of the following observation pro-
per to be repeated. " Among the richer clads, this fatal dis-
" ease, would perhaps be less common did they not by a strange
" infatuation, take the most effectual steps to contract it. If a
" greater proportion of females fall victims to it, is it not be-
" cause losing sight more than men of its primary purpose, they
" regulate their dress solely by fantastic ideas of elegance? If
" happily our regret should recal the age of chivalry, to break
" the spell of fashion would be an atchievement worthy the most
" gallant of our future knights. Common sense has always
" failed in the adventure ; and our ladies, alas! are still com-
" pelled, whenever the enchantress waves her wand, to expose
" themselves half undressed, to the fogs and frost of our
" Island*."
To this, may be appropriately added, what Dr. Reid says,
when speaking of the frequency of consumption among females.
" The present absurd fashion of introducing young women early
" into the world, as it is termed, before their bodies have ac-
" quired a proper degree of strength and firmness ; and the
" mode of living among people in genteel and high life, and
" even in the middling stations (if any such can be found) is one
" great cause of the frequency of consumptions ‡."
Since we do not, in this climate, live under a pure serene sky,
where only the most temperate zephyrs fan their gentle wings,
it behoves the young and the aged, and all who cannot bear
transitions, or intemperate states, to skreen their frame from the
pernicious effects of these ; by endeavouring to support in that
a medium of warmth, by clothing : the genial nature of which,
will amply repay their attention. Do not be deceived by those,
who may bring to your knowledge, the instances which are
found
* Observations, &c. Beddoes p. 169.
‡ Essay p. 5.
 


xlv
found in all the variety of situations, of lives protracted to the
ultimate allowance of nature, under the most unfavourable cir-
cumstances; remember the thousands who fall, whilst those so-
litary few but remain.
We have little to say here ON DIET, though it might be con-
sidered under two heads ; that which is suitable in the prophy-
laxis : and that which should be used during any particular stage
of the disease. Respecting the former, we have given, some
hints, when on the manner of living, and would add to it, our
condemnation of the too early introduction of that diet, for
children and young persons, where the use of wine and, con-
diments prevail. If children are indulged with these, and the
choice of animal food, they early shew an appearance of vigour
and health. Though, as the author of the medical Spectator
says, in the paper we have before quoted, we do not believe
that such children are more prone to eruptions, and what is
called humours, perhaps less so, than those who are more poor-
ly nourished ; but of this we are more certain, their powers of
life are too much excited by such food, and every infantile dis-
ease to which they are liable, falls upon them with double vio-
lence. Parents, therefore ought most diligently, to aim at af-
fording a happy medium of diet to their children. Every age
and every constitution if the excitement be properly directed has
it's appropriate degree of vigour. Childhood, and that weakness,
which depends on abundant excitability, admits of little stimu-
lus ; by less than the due proportion it is rendered languid, by
more, it is oppressed, for excitement the effect or exciting
powers, the true cause of life, is, within certain boundaries,
proportional to the degree of stimulus. This when moderate
produces health; in a higher degree gives occasion to diseases of
excessive stimulus; in a lower degree, excessively weak, it in-
duces those that depend upon a deficiency of stimulus or de-
bility†.
Where
† Brown's Elements, 23. 26s 


xlvi
Where children are naturally remarkably strong and vigorous,
possessing ruddy cheeks firm flesh, and that appearance of mot-
tled legs and arms, which is generally esteemed a characteristic of
health ; a more plain and simple diet is all that they need, with
little indulgence in animal food ; but to such as are otherwise
characterized by puny stamina, with pale countenances, and all
the evidences of flaccidity of skin and solids, well marking gene-
ral debility, and feeble powers of animalization, a more liberal
use of food is absolutely necessary of the animal kind, especially
after teething.
But in infancy, as well as in juvenile years, after teething, and
in the period of their changing the first set, or before reason, in
them, teaches the proper choice of food, the quantity, generally
speaking, of whatever kind of food is allowed, is often to be as
much dreaded, as the quality ; especially if those things are given,
which allure the palate ; the consequences of which are if the
times of their allowance are frequent, interrupted and impaired
digestion, from a depraved state of the stomach, loss of appetite,
loathing of simple food; and ultimately general debility and pre-
vention of the regular growth of the body. So long as the func-
tion of the stomach is in good repair, and the natural increase of
the body seems promoted, health may be said to smile on the
subject ; and little is to be feared from the kind of diet, ceteris
paribus, that is used. Then we may imagine, that the proper
action and tension of the vascular system is maintained, giving
energy to the nervous system and solidity to the whole ; render-
ing the person capable of using those exercises of body, which are
suitable to his years, without danger. These, temperately con-
ducted, and not under improper exposure to transitions of dif-
ferent distant gradations of heat, will with suitable cloathing uni-
formly used and applied, be most likely to resist the effects of a
variable climate, and of cold and humidity.
In those constitutions, either in infancy or advanced youth
where appearances of a weakly constitution, as generally remark-
ed


xlvii
ed are obvious, or where there is reason to dread a scrophulous
disposition, or a tuberculous state of the lungs, the food should be
of a nature moderately stimulating, respecting quantity or quality ;
and such as seems adapted for nutrition.
In the pathological view of this subject, we now say nothing ;
we refer to authors, by whom it is a necessary branch of their ob-
ject, to be introduced into their works* : for, during the morbid
state of the lungs, nothing requires more minute heed than the
regimen, or regulation of the non-naturals†, the proper conduct of
which also, has much influence in the predisposition‡.
The
* Reid's Essay ch. 14. May p. 49. Cullen 909, 910, 914.
Those who wish to read what more extensively in a physiological
view need be said on clothing, food, and exercise may consult with
pleasure and advantage a late elegant publication. Medical Ex-
tracts, vol. ii.
† A word including what concerns these six things, air, food,
motion and rest, passions of the mind, retentions and excretions,
sleep and wakefulness.
‡ In præcautionem igitur phthiseos (quæ multo facilior est
quam ejus curatio) plurimum interest dum ægri in hoc valetudi-
nario statu manent, accuratissima utidiligentia, ne ullus in sex re-
bus non naturalibus committatur error ; In hoc enim tam lubrico
sanitatis statu, ā levi aliqua hujusmodi occasione precipites in fa-
talem phtbisin ruere solent. Prudentem delectum cibi & potus
babere oportet, quo succus chylosus reddatur euchymus,-Exer-
citüs moderatis, diutinisque frictionibus quotidue utantur.
Omnibus licitis modis Aeger curas, moestitiam, omnemque fixam
cogitationem (quantum in se est) sedulò deponat, animumqué sibi
hilarem nitatur conciliare, phthisin enim pulmonarem a pathe-
matis animi diuturnis et gravionbus ortum suum duxisse saepe notavi
-Verum a novo frigore percipiendo apprime cavendum.
-Omnis novus Catarrhus in Phthisin tendet, atque hinc
illæ


xlviii
The subject OF EXERCISE deserves here to be noticed amongst
others ; without the benefits of which, no age can long subsist in
right health, or youth, particularly in strength ; properly used, it
adds bloom and vigour to the body, and alacrity to the mind.
Of indolence, of toil
We die ; of want, of superfluity.
To the active child of eager, willing disposition, whose imagi-
nations often over-top the bounds which his corporeal powers
may justly allow, whose constitution perhaps is tender, and whose
muscular texture is not firm, the hours of exercise should not
produce fatigue ; and though in the open air, only in this climate,
permitted during the temperate hours of the day : too early ex-
posure to morning air, is not ever commendable, and the evenings
should be devoted early to sleep.
Let him
Begin with gentle toils ; and, as the nerves
Grow firm, to hardier by just steps aspire*.
When the season or weather will not allow exercise in the open
air, such indulgence may be formed in a spacious well aired
room, according to the manners which are well known for this
purpose.
As
illæe læchrymae. Sed proh dolor ! Medici rarissime de praecavendo
hoe morbo consuluntur, (quum in principio forsan non minùs
quàm âlii affectus, curari possit, etsi morâ ut plurimūm fatalis)
Aegris raro Æsculapü opem petentibus, priusquam morbus jam in
fatalem statum prolapsus sit, ubi incassum ab arte medica exspectan-
tur miracula, cum de animae futura salute, et testamentis faciendis,
Theologum, et Jurisperitum consulere magis conveniat.
Phthisiologia, Morton p. 78, 79, 80, 87.
* Armstrong loc. cit. b. ʒ. l. 180.


xlix
As soon as young persons of the above description, are capaci-
tated for it, they should be allowed to ride on hone back, one of
the most beneficial modes of exercise, for whilst in moderate
health, it invigorates the whole frame by the action of the solids,
promotes the wholesome secretions, delights and engages the mind,
and increases the digestive powers. In those, when tubercles of
the lungs are formed, if riding promotes no cough, it is beneficial;
if so, or there is any inflammatory signs, it must be avoided ; but
the management of exercise of various kinds, depends upon the
particular condition, form, circumstances and state, of each indi-
vidual.
In case of disease or accident, and especially to the infirm, it
may be useful to see the following arrangement of modes of ex-
ercise, according to their degrees*.
1. Agitation from rocking in a cradle, the resilient motion
of a plank of wood, or elastic seat of the exercising chair.
2 Swinging, as seated in a chair attached to a properly sus-
pended rope.
3 Sailing on water, or the sea, in a boat or ship.
4 Riding in a carriage.
5 Reading or speaking aloud.
6 Riding on horseback.
7 Walking.
8 Leaping.
9 Running.
The motion of what children call the see-saw, when seated on the
ends of a balanced plank of wood, is similar to the first and se-
cond ; the utility of which last, the reader may see commended in
consumption, in a treatise by Dr. Smith.
One observation made relative to reading and speaking or the
exercise of the organs of respiration, merits to be introduced here,
and attended to, so as to be confirmed or condemned by experience;
because
* From the Disputatio inauguralis de Exercitatione auctore
Jacobo Dittmar. 


l
because it militates against a contrarily received, and much es-
tablished opinion.
The lungs when debilitated, derive equal benefit with the
limbs or other parts of the body from moderate exercise. My
enquiries led me to attend more particularly to the following
facts:-1. Those persons who have been early instructed in
vocal music, and who use their vocal organs moderately through
life, are seldom affected by an hœmorrhage from the lungs. 2.
Lawyers, players, public cryers, city watchmen all of whom ex-
ercise their lungs either by long, or loud speaking, are less affected
by hœmoptysis, than persons of other occupations*.
There is a caution, which we ought perhaps, to have inserted
before, in its more appropriated place ; but those who are attached
to the idea we have endeavoured to obviate the error of, that ex-
posure to cold from infancy is the way to render children hardy,
and habituated to bear cold, will apply it here: we mean that
which is necessary against the indiscriminate use of the cold bath ;
under the general opinion of its being a bracer, and the constant
and daily washing the body of infants universally, who are of a
weakly habit with cold water. To those, and especially such as
are of a scrophulous or phthisical disposition, we hesitate not to
say, it is prejudicial ; and has been attended with dangerous, and
increased debilitating consequences: probably by care and its
aids, those who are of a tender frame as they advance in age, or
after puberty, may acquire such a degree of firmness of health and
vigour, as may endure the use of such means, and derive benefit
from them, if entered upon with caution and not too often used.
The prudent even in every moderate walk
At first but saunter ; and by flow degrees
Increase their pace.
Hence against the rigors of a damp cold heaven
To fortify their bodies, some frequent
The
* Medical Observations and Enquiries, v. i. p. 134, by Dr.
Rush.


li
The gelid cistern ; and, where nought forbids,
I praise their dauntless heart : A frame so steel'd
Dreads not the cough, nor those ungenial blasts
That breathe the Tertian or fell Rheumatism ;
The nerves so temper'd never quit their tone,
No chronic languors haunt such hardy breasts.
But all things have their bounds* :
The reasons which support those observations, are to be un-
derstood from the effects which a much inferior degree of heat
applied to the surface of the body has ; abstracting heat from
this, and thus it is irritability : whence, a cessation of the usual
action of the capillary arteries of the body takes place for a
time, with which the system of other vessels interiorly sympathize.
This temporary abatement, allows time for the constitution to
recover or accumulate its irritability again, which is thus more
easily affected by ordinary stimuli, so that a feeble degree of heat
will then produce active effects, a rapid and unusual exertion
in the interior system of vessels is caused, whence, a greater
quantity of blood is transmitted to the exterior vessels again,
warmth and floridity of the skin ensues, and thus vigour is given
to every action in the frame‡. But if there is primarily, a defi-
ciency of strength or irritability in the frame, paleness, coldness,
G and
* Armstrong loc: cit. B. ʒ. l. 29l.
‡ In warm weather, when there is an accumulation of heat,
on the external vessels, and of course through the whole frame,
too great for the healthy degree of excitement to continue long ;
the progress to indirect debility is retarded by diminishing the
excitement from time to time, thus giving more action to sti-
muli ; hence the cold bath in hot summer weather, diminish-
ing excessive heat, restore the proper stimulant temperature.
Brown's Elements, 37, 39.
See the observation in the sequel, in the note added to the
principal causes of catarrh.


lii
and languor succeed, after the application of cold, the person
feels enfeebled, and irregular sensations of heat affect him.
Bathing in a cold spring of water, where the heat is but 48°.
of Fahrenheit's thermometer, much disagrees with the debilitat-
ed, for they cannot bear to have heat, and the irritable princi-
ple diminished ; such may nevertheless be benefited by a tepid
bath, or one, in which the degrees of heat are not many below
that of the human body. This, would, ultimately prove in
common language a strengthener, and by gradually increasing
both the time of staying in such baths, as well as decreasing the
degree of heat in them, the salutary effects they are designed
for, may be obtained, and the delicate frame rendered less liable
to be injured, by the unavoidable exposure which is occasional-
ly incidental, in this climate.
It may here be expected, that we should offer some observa-
tions on the different parts of this kingdom, so as to point out
such situations as are most favourable to the Phthisical, or to those
disposed to it ; but what we could say respecting this, would
be mostly conjectural in reasoning from the analogy, which we
should find more or less to prevail in temperate climates. Those
who have been afflicted with Phthisis in the northern parts of the
Island we have known benefited by removal to southern and
so-western parts, where the air is milder.
There may be some suspicion raised in the mind, that we
sometimes err, in sending the Phthisical of the florid habit, to
those places where the air has been reckoned pure ; if a late
theory which has much reason on its side is well founded *: and
this quotation may serve to support such a doubt.
The pnilanthropic Jonas Hanway was a very great advocate
for warm clothing. Being in a decline, he was ordered by his
Physicians to the south of France : but some very urgent busi-
ness
* Opus est si vires patiuntur, lunga navigazione, cœli muta-
tions sic, ut densius quam id est, ex quo discedit œger, petatur.
Ideoque aptissime Alexandriam ex Italia itur. Celsus l. ʒ. c. 22.


liii
ness calling him to visit Holland, in the moist air of that country
he speedily recovered, and remarks that the Dutch are free from
this dreadful calamity, which he attributes partly to the air, and
partly to their warm method of clothing. Those consumptive
patients, in a note to the preceeding, Dr. Thornton adds, whom
we hurry off to the clear air in the south of France the French
physicians, on the contrary, order to the foggy air of Lyons. As
they cannot both be right, and as the Hot-Wells favours the
sentiments of the latter, being near a great town, where innu-
merable works are carrying on, and situated on the borders of
marshy ground, and a river the most choaked up with mud of
any in the world, there is some probable grounds, for doubting
of the justness of our prevailing practice*.
And, from some late observations which have been made,
it does not appear, that those who live in such situations, as are
deemed to have a purer air than others, are more free from Phthi-
sis than those who live in the former§.
How different are such ideas, to those which Morton enter-
tained, when he mentions amongst the causes of Phthisis, a
dense and marshy atmosphere, replete with the smoke of coals,
vitiating the animal spirits, as necessary to the right fermentation
of
* Medical extracts, v. ii. p. 270.
§ Letters from Dr. Withering, &c. p. 13. Where, the idea of
the prevalent opinion, that workmen employed about limekilns,
do not become consumptive is mentioned ; and that such people,
as are employed in occupations which require them to breathe
an atmosphere impregnated with animal effluvia, as butchers
and makers of catgut, are also observed generally to be free from
that disease. See also, what is said on the relief which some con-
sumptive cases have received by breathing the air of cow-houses,
" in a short account of the nature and properties of different
kinds of airs, by R. Pearson, M.D. p. 18.


liv
of the blood, thus debilitating and causing infractions of the
lungs*.
" It is an opinion entertained by many persons conversant in
" the history of medicine, that certain diseases are now much
" more prevalent, and certain others less so, than formerly : some
" indeed, that made great havoc in this island centuries ago, have
" now totally disappeared. These variations have been imputed,
" and with great appearance of probability, to the entire change
" that has taken place during the lapse of ages in almost every
" circumstance of the manner of living. But in many instances
" we are not able to fix upon the particular alteration to which
" the introduction or the extirpation of any given disease is to
" be ascribed ; and still less can we precisely determine the effect
" of the alteration upon the functions of the living body. If it
" be true, however, as so many medical practitioners believe,
" that consumption is now much more frequent, it is easy accord-
" ing to my system, to understand whence this has happened.
" The inhabitants of this country, almost without exception,
" breathe a freer and purer air than their ancestors. Nor do I
" believe that there is any particular in which the difference be-
" tween the present and some past generations, is so remarkable.
" You see then that the subjects of our Edwards and our Henrys,
" and of good queen Bess may have found, in being more free
" from so formidable a disease than their delicate and airy posteri-
" ty, some compensation for the confined air and filth in which
" they passed their existence‖."
The
* Phthisiologia,-p. 69. and orders amongst his precautions,
Aere utatur aprico, perflatili, benigno, et a sumum carbonum
libero-which besides other advantages-etiam pulmonibus jam
continua tussi calefactis pacem (aliquatenus saltem) conciliare
possit. p. 79.
* Beddoe's letter to Dr. Darwin p. 20, The following com-
munication may aptly be propagated here, " My case contains 


lv
The reader will observe the allusion which is made to PNEU-
MATIC MEDICINE, the advantages of which the author does not
know from experience; his expectations of them are only drawn
from the perusal of those publications which have lately appear-
ed upon that subject, and which announce the use of different
kinds of airs, in different diseases of the lungs, and the respira-
tion of a modified atmosphere in consumption, as productive of
the happiest curative success. Many medical characters deserv-
edly bearing the highest reputation, think but slightly of the ef-
fects which are to be produced by the pneumatic practice, yet
as the facts brought forward so far in support of it, are too re-
spectably vouched for to be doubted, tending to shew that the
administration of factitious airs in certain diseases is safe, and
promises advantage to society ; we think it deserves that attention
which is necessary to ascertain its true merits in the scale of
practice ; and as "one agreeable circumstance attends it, that
" different kinds of air may be exhibited to consumptive pa-
" tients, while at the same time they may persist in any plan of
" medicine or diet, which they or their friends for them are
" solicitous to pursue, without interfering with the remedy
" which is applied to the seat of the disease, and the ulcerations
" of the lungs *."
The
" nothing that seems to me applicable to your theory. The sole
" inferences to be drawn from it are, that in the florid consump-
" tion a change of air from the sea shore to an inland and moun-
" tainous situation is highly useful ; and that the hectic paroxysm
" on it's approach, may be prevented by the swing ; in some in-
" stances, and by exercise on horseback in still more, to which last,
" persevered in with a degree of punctuality that is not com-
" mon, I chiefly impute my recovery." Letters from Wither-
ing, &c. p. 35.
* Letter from Dr. Darvin. 


lvi
TUBERCLES are considered by Dr. Cullen as one of the most
frequent and dangerous causes of phthisis*; and describes them
as certain small tumours having the appearance of indurated
glands, at first indolent in their state, but which at length be-
coming inflamed, are changed into little abscesses which break-
ing, pour their matters into the air cells of the lungs ; whence
purulent expectoration, and one foundation of phthisis is derived.
In the third chapter of Dr. Reid's Essay a more particular ac-
count of them may be seen ; he does not suppose them to origi-
nate from diseased lymphatic glands †, attributing them to ob-
structions in the exhaling vessels, from viscidity taking place in
the exhaled lymph. Such as we have seen, were small hardened
substances, appearing to be less vascular than other parts con-
tiguous having a whitish appearance, similar to a deposition of
coagulable lymph.
A tuberculous state of the lungs may happen in early infancy,
though rarely ; the attack of phthisis generally from them, hap-
pens at the same period which Cullen assigns for hoemoptysis‡ :
and on the same kind of habit, though with less marks of the
exquisitely formed sanguine temperament. They may be found
in
* First lines 876, 898, 905, 906. Morton p. 95.
† Page 21, " There is no absolute criterion by which we
" can determine, when they are first formed in the lungs. They
" are to be suspected, when the cough is violent ; continued
" with short intermission, particularly at night ; and viscid
" phlegm is expectorated with difficulty." p. 30. Cruikshank
says sometimes, but rarely, the glandsof the absorbents are with-
in the substance of the lungs. p. 128. On the anatomy of the
absorbent vessels the theory which Morton gives relative to the
production of tubercles has much of similarity in it to Dr.
Reid's. De sïguis diagnosticis phthisiologia p. 93. & seq.
Morton.
‡ Loc. cit. 887. 


lvii
in the lungs of many who have never been distressed with pul-
monary complaints to any great degree, nor have become phthi-
sical. Some have lived from youth to advanced age, when sup-
posed to be affected with them, having had throughout their
life, daily in summer and winter, an habitual cough, with
difficult respiration and a sense of weight in the chest ; yet by
attention to their conduct, they have, as Morton says, without
medical aid, kept themselves free from danger; being content
rather to live afflictedly than medically*.
The author of the elements of medicine says that where tu-
bercles have been suspected, in those who have died of confirm-
ed consumption, they have not upon dissection after death been
found†. But their frequency upon this same evidence, is incon-
trovertible, whether they are or not, when found, as he asserts,
only an effect and not a cause.
The existence of tubercles, has been generally suspected most
in the scrophulous disposition, and been imagined to be a scro-
phulous affection of the lungs ; there seems to be, in those in
whom they prevail, the same constitutional marks of flaccidity,
debility, and delicacy, as in scrophula. They are sometimes
dispersed by the efforts of nature, before they come to an inflam-
ed state ; but yet in the attempts at resolution of them, by any
artificial means, the analogy between them and scrophula affords
little guide to our endeavours towards success‡.
Where they are suspected, by the symptoms we have practically
detailed, and by those which the medical reader may more mi-
nutely find in the authors we have referred to ; we should ever
endeavour as much as possible to prevent their inflammation :
by instituting a moderate diet, avoiding all local irritations
caused by excessive exertions of the respiratory organs, as vio-
lent running, or other exercise, unfavourable postures of body,
or
* Phthisiologia Morton p. 215.
† § 236. Note r.
‡ Cullen's first lines 907. 


lviii
or whatsoever may diminish the capacity of the chest, using a
proper clothing in spring and winter, such as may obviate the
imprudent application of cold to the body, and maintain an
equable distribution of fluids, on the surface, avoiding whatso-
ever may produce catarrh, as sudden transactions from cold to
heat.
The contagious nature of phthisis has been disputed by some and
maintained by others. Morton places it amongst his procatarotic
causes*. Cullen says he has hardly seen one case which could
appear to have arisen from contagion ; and thinks that in warmer
climates it may be more discernable than here†. Reid‡ does not
altogether confirm it, but thinks, in the last stages of the disease
the purulent exhaled particles, conveyed by the breath, should be
avoided by the young ; who should not be much about the sick,
or suffered to sleep in the same bed or even in the same chamber.
Dr. Beddoes says, that under the various kinds of treatment of
phthisis which yet has been used, the patients at length submit
to fate ; and that generally, with many of their relations by heredi-
tary disposition, or with their nearest friend by contagion§.
We
* Contagium etiam hunc morbum propagat. Hic enim affectus
(uti frequenti experentia observari) lecti focios miasmate quodam,
sicutifebris maligna, inquinat. Loc. cit. p. 70.
† Loc. cit. 886. ‡ Essay chap. 15.
§ " I believe both these consumptions (one which begins with
slight hœmoptoe, and which is generally seen in dark-eyed people
With large pupils ; and the other which commences without
hœmoptoe, and which is generally seen in light-eyed people with
large pupils. The former of which is generally hereditary with-
out any appearance of scrophula ; and the latter with appearance
of scrophula in the present, preceding or third generation up-
wards. This attacking people of all ages ; the other commencing
more


lix
We can from observation confirm this ; and in one family, the
fact was particularly established.
We may readily allow the probability of this, even without
hereditary disposition ; and how much more so with it : if we may
be allowed to suppose that whatsoever induces debility, forms
a remote cause of phthisis especially if there is any tendency
to scrophula. A sedentary life therefore, in warm rooms, expos-
ed to a vitiated quality of the atmosphere, where the sick breathe
and sleep, must needs promote that ; aided by the effect of watch-
ing and depressed state of the mind : subject to continual anxiety,
from the interest which the attendant is most likely to take in the
fate of a relative or friend. Therefore, rightly has Morton rank-
ed amongst the procatarctic causes, affliction of the mind, intense
attention and thought*. Under which state the application of an
exciting cause, may produce those incipient effects, which being
attached, pave the way to the direst morbid condition.
OF CATARRH. Morton enumerates a catarrhal disposition
amongst the diagnostic signs of phthisis ; in which, the person
from the slightest occasions, or scarcely without any evident cause,
is frequently subject to a cough.
H Catarrh
more certainly between seventeen and twenty-seven years of age)
" to be infectious, to those who sleep with such patients in the
" last stage of the disease ; as I have observed a husband in two
" cases begin to be diseased soon after the death of his wife ; and
" in one a wife, who became consumptive soon after the death
" of her husband ; in all which cases there was no reason to
" suspect hereditary predisposition."
Dr. Darvin's Letter to Dr. Beddoes.
See Cruikshanks loc. cit. 178, who supports the opinion of this
contagion.
* See depressing passions in the sequel. 


lx
Catarrh, is only an inflammatory affection of that part, which
is called the mucous membrane of the Trachea and Brouchia*,
is not disposed to suppuration ; or if so, simply of itself, it readily
heals : can only tend to produce phthisis, in those who are pecu-
liarly predisposed. The degrees of it, are various, according to
the force of the causes. It is an affection to which every one
may occasionally be liable, but the young, the tender and deli-
cate, and those born of parents, who have been much subjected
to it are more so than others ; from whence it has been deemed
an hereditary complaint. Others, without any parental lapse of
this kind, are prone to it from mal conformation of the chest,
and such a form as we have described†. Those, also, who have
been afflicted with it, become often habitually so disposed ; espe
cially if former affections have left any tuberculous complaint on
the lungs.
The principal causes to which it has been attributed, are cold
applied under certain circumstances, whilst the body is in a heat-
ed state ; exposure to heat after cold ; and contagion*.
When in a violent degree, it may be combined with inflam-
mation of some other part of the chest ; and when neglected, as
often it is, under the common opinion, of a cold, it leads, as
frequent experience has made known, in the phthisical habit,
to the most dangerous consequences : the symptoms of which,
it is not in our province to delineate. Under such impressions, let
not
§ The windpipe and it's branches the air vessels of the Lungs.
† Dessertatio inauguralis G. Fordyce.
§ Upon the principles which are alluded to, respecting cold-
bathing and the glow which ensues, on being exposed to a supe-
rior degree of heat, after experiencing an inferior application of
it. If the degree of warmth therefore, after this, was great, in-
flammation would be the consequence. The experiencing of an
extraordinary and continued glow after the use of bathing, is not
so beneficial as has been usually thought by many. 


lxi
not the patient unaware of his danger, be lulled into a fa'al se
curity ; fancying his complaint, what may easily be removed by
simple remedies, let him not trust, only, to nostrums and do-
mestic remedies ! it is of the utmost consequence that the disease
should be ascertained, and distinguished in it's true nature ; for
if it is simply catarrh no alarm need be given : and to suffer it
to be treated only as such, if the tendency is phthisical, is cruel,
and can only be done so by ignorance*.
It is, from catarrhous complaints having been mistaken by the
gnorant for phthisis, or designedly called so, by the crafty, that
they have often arrogated to themselves the merit of having
cured consumption‡. It cannot therefore, be too strongly im-
pressed upon the minds of young people, as well as those who
have the care of them, that a cough merely the consequence of
a cold, usually ceases of itself, in eight or ten days ; if it con-
tinues longer, danger attends its causing phthisical symptoms ‖:
regard being made to the degree of the symptoms ; affecting
with fever, pain, difficulty of respiration, cough, expectoration
and the former state of the lungs. For, if not timely removed,
it nourishes to itself it's own evils, by symptoms, aggravating
symptoms.
Let not those, in whom there is fullness, with debility, who
are easily affected with the symptoms called a cold ; be heedless
of it, merely, because they flatter themselves they have had more
serious affections of the kind with impunity before ; thus sooth-
ing the alarm of their friends, when caution ought to be the
alert guardian which should enforce it's sanative care and rules.
Whatever reasoning we may make use of, to prove the mode
of action of the causes on the system, a matter which it is now
irrelevant to our purpose to enter into, we are convinced of the
fact
* Cullen 856, 889, and seq. Reid 55. and seq.
‡ Letters to Darwin by Beddoes, p. 52.
‖ Letters &c. p. 11. 


lxii
fact ; respecting the injury which is entailed upon multitudes
from this source*.
The degree of painful suffering, which phthisical patients are
supposed to have comparatively with other diseases of an acute
nature, rapid progress, and early termination, is generally ima-
gined to be less than in these ; though the lungs are supplied
copiously wirh nerves, but the vital organs, those of involun_
tary motion, do not, under many injuries, convey to the mind
those impressions which are similar to those experienced in parts
subject to volition ; and many parts insensible in health, become
painful when under inflammation. The degree of pain exper-
ienced in the chest, in phthisis, is to be compared with the cause
and degree of inflammation there. In the suppurated and ul-
cerated state of the lungs, little sensation of pain is excited ;
though, before it might be acute. In some the progress is slow,
and the pain from the first more obtuse ; generally, from the
first commencement of the disease, some stitches are felt in the
fore part of the chest, or sides, augmented by troublesome cough
and posture. The former continuing and increasing, becomes,
often incessant, violent, hard and dry, with pains in the side
more sharply distinguished and fixed ; whilst the respiration is
quick and difficult, particularly in higher degrees of inflamma-
tion,
* We have in our poetical part, only mentioned one cause,
agreeably to common opinion, of a sudden transition from a
heated apartment to a cold atmosphere, as exciting catarrh, and
inflammation of the lungs &c. yet we believe, that the same
change from cold external air, to that more heated, is as often
to be blamed. The reasoning in favour of each, cannot here be
indulged in, contrasted opinions may be read in Cullen's first
lines 1046, and seq. and the Elements of Medicine by Brown
and preface to Beddoes, edition p. 26, and 407. seq. see also
Dissertation on simple fever by Dr. Fordyce, p. 135, see Exer-
cise and Transitions. 


lxiii
tion, and from hæmoptic causes. But, when the disease pro-
ceeds in a catarrhous form, exciting tubercles to inflammation
it is often more insiduous in its progress, and often little attend-
ed to by the patient. By degrees, the hectic fever is established ;
when ease is destroyed, by the daily succession of symptoms,
which, with little intermission harass the hours of night and day.
When woes the waking sense alone assail ;
Whilst night extends her soft oblivious veil,
Of other wretches care the torture ends :
No truce the warfare of my heart suspends!
The night renews the day distracting theme
And airy terrors sable ev'ry dream.*
In the advanced stages, the cough is performed with more
ease ; and the degree of pain which afflicted any part of the chest,
being diminished, attention to it is scarcely excited. Such an
acquired ease, now, becomes a source of delusion to the hopeful
mind ; and affords a flattery, which often accompanies the sick
person through most stages of the disease, that the danger is abat-
ing, and he has a good fouudation to expect a cure. It has be-
fore been remarked†, that the consumptive are particularly in-
genious in accounting for every accession of fever, or increase of
any other symptom ; and as readily attribute their remission, to
the effects of some remedy which they have taken, by the advice
of their physician or their friends : for in this, most people who
visit them know an efficacious remedy. Thus, to the last, do
the phthisical go on to hope a favourable event, and really suffer
less than their afflicted relations, who observe, a favorite, wasting
by an unconquered disease, yet elevated by hope, and unconscious
of danger whilst tending quickly to sepulchral destiny. The
reflection on which state awakes
A
* Pope's Homer B. 20. l. 98.
† By Dr. Reid, see Eff. p. 11. and 13. 


lxiv
A SENTIMENT.
When sweetly life on easy pinion glides,
And little pain arrests from incidents ;
A dolent sting the sudden shock betides;
Deep tortures rise with unforseen events.
Whilst those, who on the turbid billows sail
Of adverse fate-whose days are pain and care,
See lesser evils float, along life's gale,
And pass unnotic'd, midst the vital fare.
But thou, oh time ! great arbiter of deeds!
Whose hands, oblivion's boundless cup can give !
Canst soothe the anguish of a mortal's heeds !
We quaff the dream, and tranquil hearts receive.
Sweet balm ! from there, the kindly bliss I greet,
And praise the healing draught that brings such rest ;
But whilst a present pang thou would'st delete,
I wou'd not have the cause, from thought suppress'd.
Let those imbibe the lov'd quiescent stream,
Who woo forgetfulness of anxious grief;
Then lose a name I lov'd, by mem'ry's dream,
I'd rather live still vacant of relief.
Whilst the best means we have in our power are made use of,
in combating the disease, so as to palliate and alleviate, we cannot
perhaps, but with cruelty, do away the firm persuasion which the
mind indulges in, of health being recovered ; and that delusive
enjoyment which is cultivated by the phthisical that yet they may
live to perform the enterprizes which enter the imagination.
For such a belief, physically speaking of the human mind, ought
not to be destroyed ; whatever morality and religion may urge :
and medically, we know the vast utility which confidence gives
toward


lxv
towards support under and recovery from disease. An easy and
amused reflection, is at all times a desirable object ; the allowance
therefore, of what promotes such aid, and adds to its pleasure is
worthy of being permitted. The DEPRESSING PASSIONS de-
stroy at all times vigour of body, their force therefore must be
particularly felt by the diseased and debilitated frame. In the
degree of health which the delicate constitution possesses, their
impression, especially upon those possessing much sensibility of
mind, exerts an inordinate power ; and if long continued, are most
perniciously destructive to the body. It might well then be said
that
" Love, hope, and joy, fair pleasure's smiling train,
" Hate, fear, and grief the family of pain ;
" These mix'd with art, and to due bounds confin'd,
" Make and maintain, the balance of the mind.*"
Afflictions of the mind have been reckoned amongst the remote
causes of phthisis, as Morton mentions†, and Bennet before him‡.
If a due action of a stimulus maintains health and strength,
whatsoever destroys that, tends to induce general derangement
and debility ; which may be acted upon, by causes exciting mor-
bid symptoms. Hope seems to be the most grateful stimulant to
the
* Pope's Essay on Man, Ess. ii. l. 117.
† Causæ procatarcticae, seu primam ansam huic morbo prae-
bentes, sunt 2°. Pathemata animi graviora, præcipue vero metus
tristitia iracundia, cogitatio nimia, et nimis anxia, uti et studia
intempesttava, et nimis longæ, cum aliis hujusmodi. l. 2. cap. i.
‡ Animi moeior, unde spiritus dejicitur et vis tabifica altius
imprimitur.
Unda lacusque nocent, et causa valentior istis,
Anxietas animi.
Tabedorum theatrum, 98. 


lxvi
the mind, and therefore Theognes the greek poet, metaphorically
deifies it, as one of the greatest benefits which remain on earth*.
The operation of the passions upon the mind, has been felt by
every one comparatively ; but their mode of impressing the body,
can be little described or accounted for. The idea we have, is
that they all act according to the range they have, in proportion
of stimulus, on the excitability of the body ; the degrees of which,
we know are various in different persons. For, as the celebrated
author who has presented the world with strictures on some of
Dr. Browne's doctrines†, says, " The excitability therefore, is
" exhausted by any passion or perturbation, in the same manner
" as by excessive excitement in other cases. Whether temporary
" weariness, or irreparable debility shall ensue, depends upon the
" intensity and duration of the exertions, made by the organs in
" action." This latter writer, reckons deficiency of passion,
as sadness, grief, fear, terror and despair, only as inferior degrees
of gladness, confidence, and hope ; implying a diminution of ex-
citing passions. There is a necessary degree of passion, which
acts on the body as other stimuli, either in excess, in due, or in
defective proportion. The proper action of the mind, and en-
ergy of passion, or emotion is to be ranked with those stimuli,
which tend to produce an equalization of excitement over the
whole system.
If any passions are sedative, it is by their long continuance,
inducing direct debility, from the absence of sufficient stimulus ;
or indirectly so, from the violence of their immediate application,
destroying by forcible stimulus the excitability. That debility
however
* Spes ìnter homines sola dea bona est :
Alii vero dii in coelum, nos relinquentes ablerunt.
Sentetiae Theognidis.
† Preface to the translations of his elements, clviii. Also Ele-
ments § 279, 311, 21, 138 to 144.


lxvii
however, does ensue in the body from affections of the mind, is
an effect we cannot deny, however, we may pretend to reason on
the subject. Intense thinking upon one object is at first attended
by great excitement of the whole system, as thinking in general
affects the brain.
Hence different passions more or less inflame,
As strong or weak the organs of the frame ;
And hence one master passion in the breast,
Like Aaron's serpent swallows up the rest*.
The long continuance of thought, wastes the excitability or
vital powers, whence diminished energy takes place in the body,
A galling circumstance to human pride !
Abasing thought, but not to be denied !
With curious art the brain too finely wrought,
Preys on herself, and is destroy'd by thought,
Constant attention wears the active mind,
Blots out her pow'rs, and leaves a blank behind†.
The addition of further motives for disappointment and fear per-
petuate their loss and produce all those symptoms which indi-
cate impaired strength ; the appetite for food becomes depraved,
and the supplies of nutriment are defective and cut off. Thus
does a dejected mind produce languor of body, and
Hence the lean gloom that melancholy wears
The lover's paleness-
Oft from the body, by long ails mistun'd
These evils sprung the most important health,
That
* Pope's Essay on Man, Ess. ii. l. 131.
† Epistle to Hogarth by Churchill.


lxviii
That of the mind destroy : And when the mind
They first invade, the conscious body soon
In sympathetic languishment declines*.
Oye, whose souls relentless love has tam'd
To soft distress, or friends untimely slain !
Court not the luxury of tender thought ;
Nor deem it impious to forget those pains
That hurt the living, nought avail the dead,
Go soft enthusiast ! quit the cypress groves,
Nor to the rivulet's lonely moanings tune
Your sad complaint†.-
So shall you escape that state of mind which produced an
EVENING'S VAGARY.
Tranquility, with ease, a twin-form'd birth,
In Eve's dim mantle cover'd far the earth ;
When from her loved, led Amanda's way,
And as from him she sped, so pass'd the lucid ray.
She sigh'd-how diff'rent art thou, Eve, to me !
My heart estrang'd to thy serenity !
Soft falls the dew, upon the grassy glade,
Where peacefully the shepherd's care is laid,
Whose cravings with satiety repos'd,
For rest-with parting light, their needful toils have clos'd:
Content-but ah ! such ease not dwells with me,
No such calm joys are here my destiny.
The
* Armstrong, b. iv. l. 47. & 134.
† Armstrong, b. iv. l. 145.


lxix
The woodland choristers have sung their lay,
And rest in silence on the leafy spray,
The social red-breast, bard of soft twilight,
Has finished his chanting to the god of night.
Happy-whilst here, no comfort dwells for me,
My heart a tempest 'midst serenity.
The lab'ring steed, now, by the swain is driv'n
To those confines, which to his lot is giv'n ;
His guide with whistling, or with blithsome song
The track accustom'd cheers, whilst slowly pass'd along.
With them quietude joins-and flies from me,
My sole companion, tort'ring destiny.
Frail, is the consolation I wou'd prove,
In the remembrance of once smiling love,
Whose charms have mix'd with disregard's alloy,
And on despair, have wreck'd the bubble of my joy.
Obscur'd as night is now felicity.
The splendid sun of hope, is set with me.
Where do these flattering fancies now abound ?
Which pour'd by plenty were indulgent found ?
Those treasures which delight with fairy wand ?
From expectation's mines oft rais'd at my command ?
Vanish'd-on wings of infelicity,
By magic touch of forward destiny.
Peace to thee, Eve! thy herds, thy plumed train,
And Beings all-who love the air or plain !
Sleep be with those, who at its sway rejoice,
And pleasures of this orb, can hail with happy voice.
She said-with tears, and shook her anguish'd head
Careless for self-with pray'rs for all-from sight she
vagrant fled.
I 2 The


lxx
The greek word ACME, is known by most people to be ap-
plied, to any particular point of time, degree of maturity or per-
fection. It specifies in our poem, the period when the growth
of the body is circumstantially completed in youth.
Hippocrates says, in those of advanced youth, or approaching
to puberty many diseases attend ; fevers and flux of blood from
the nostrils : and that many also, are then terminated. Phthisis,
he mentions as attendant on the years from the eighteenth to the
thirty-fifth of age‡.
This period is effected by the process of Nutrition and
Growth of the body, gradually from it's primary state, by the
powers with which it is endowed. The theory, concerning
which, may be found in the writings of Physiologists. The al-
lusion we have made, is to that taught by the illustrious Cullen
and others ; in order to elucidate it, for those who have not op-
portunities of consulting such authors, we shall attempt to give
a brief sketch of what concerns these subjects.
We know that there is a constant waste and dissipation of the
parts of the body, from the actions which are supported, whilst
the vital principle is attached to the animal and natural functions;
and, that the necessity of reparation of this loss, accompanies us'
whilst this condition subsists : the supplies for which, are derived
from what is taken in by the stomach and lungs, food and air,
elaborated and rendered fit, by the peculiarities of the animal
œconomy, to promote apposition of parts ; giving bulk and vi-
gour to the body, aided by rest, when sleep affords the oppor-
tunity of renewing that loss of excitability, or vital principle,
which is expended by the actions existent in wakefulness.
From minute rudiments, the human body grows to a consi-
derable size. From being of a texture, soft, lax and yielding,
it becomes composed of more firm and hard parts ; some of which
arrive at perfection sooner than others. Of those, the heart is
one
‡ Hippocrate's Aphorism, Sect. 3. Aph. 27, 28, 29. and S.
A. 5. 9. 


lxxi
one of the first, beginning a function which it is to continue, vir_
tually, whilst moral life remains with the body. In the com-
mencement of it's action it is placed centrically with regard to the
surrounding parts. It is, in the fœtal, and infantile state, larger
in proportion to other parts, than what it is in the adult ; in the
former it is also more irritable, and performs more frequent pul-
sations, in a given time, than what it does in the latter. The
blood vessels also, in this state, are not so numerous or yielding,
as in the former, when they are capable of being acted upon, by
the pulsile and distending force of the heart, exerted on all
around it.
Many circumstances concur, to favour the increase of the body
in early life ; a greater quantity of fluids are then formed, than
what is merely necessary to nourish it's bulk : so that the system
may be said to be always in a state of plenitude, though not a
morbid one, owing to the easily dilatability of the vessels. In_
fants take a greater proportion of food comparatively, than adults;
digest it more completely, from it's nature perhaps ; sleep much,
and have little waste from exercise ; all which, whilst the body
increases, is circumstantially not injurious: but as that ceases, dif-
ferent effects may take place, especially in a weakly constitution.
In whatever manner the apposition of parts may be supposed to
take place, the growth of animals we presume, depends upon the
extension of the arterial system, by the powers propelling the
blood ; the chief of which is the contraction of the heart and ar_
teries : it being supposed, that the distending force, acts chiefly,
according to the axis of the vessels ; and therefore, why, they
should increase first in length : that power going from the trunk
to the branches, these are extended, and also the parts with
which they are connected ; to which is carried the nutritious
fluid the blood endowed with all the necessary properties for
nourishment.
But


lxxii
But many conditions retard the velocity of the blood, with
which it is transmitted by the heart‡ ; and these render some
parts more or less exposed to the force of the blood, and lia-
ble to receive a greater quantity than others : so that some
must necessarily arrive at perfection before others, according to
circumstances of the nature of the constitution originally, or
future occurrences.
Thus, the head acquires it's full size, sooner than some other
Parts do their complete bulk, and, as parts are evolved after each
other according to the œconomy of the body, may be understood,
in some measure, the production of the puberty of the sexes, and
the wonderful and sudden increase of the limbs, at the time
when the superior parts cease to increase.
As parts are secreted from the blood, by the peculiar nu-
tritious process, and applied to their purposes, the bulk in-
creases ; those parts which first are perfected, will the soonest ac-
quire a proportionate degree of density, which will resist further
extensions and growth : the blood therefore, meeting with such
an impediment, will be determined with more force and in greater
quantity
‡ That is, accordingly as the part is more or less distant from
the heart ; or the circumstances which refer to the capacity of
the arteries, being enlarged as they are more distant from the
heart ; the frequent flexures of arteries ; angles of the branches
with the trunks ; and junctions of different branches ; retarda-
tion from the viscid texture of the blood : or friction by adhesion ;
resistance given by the weight and rigidity of parts surrounding
the arteries. The gravity of the blood, also, may concur with,
or oppose its motion in the part. So also, may it be impeded,
according as those causes which increase or diminish the action
of the arteries of the part, are applied or removed, as constric-
tion, compression, ligature, position, relaxation or aperture and
resistance of the veins.
Institutions of Medicine, Cullen 170, 177, 178, 295. & seq.


lxxiii
quantity to parts not so completed, the force of the heart, and
quantity of fluids with respect to the whole system, remaining
the same, till the whole system is evolved, and every part of the
solids is, in respect of density and resistance, in balance with every
other, and with the forces to which they are severally exposed ;
so that there can be no further growth, unless some preternatural
circumstances shall happen to arise.
Before each part has arrived at it's permanent state, whilst
some remain lax and yielding, any occasional incrcase of the
distending power, may take place without perceptible injury to
the system ; but as the distending power, and resistance of the
solids come to be nearer balanced, any increase of the former,
may produce a rupture of such vessels as will not readily suffer
extension. We may apply this to account for bleeding at the nose
in young persons, about the fifteenth and eighteenth years of
age; or sooner, according as circumstances may take place ;
while the system is in the full state mentioned, and the force of
the distention is determined to the head ; where, then, the two
powers are most nearly adjusted : resistance augmenting, as the
distending force is applied, rupture of some vessel is likely to
happen ; and most chiefly so in the nose, where the blood vessels
are numerous, and weakly supported upon the internal surface
of the nostrils.
By the accretion of matter secreted by every system of vessels
according to their peculiar œconomy, producing the softest, and
hardest ossified parts, the resistance to the extensile power becomes
gradually augmented ; and as parts are, thus, less ready to be
extended, they perhaps receive less readily any addition than be-
fore ; consequently the more the body grows, the more slowly
does it admit of any additional growth ; more especially since it
is found that whilst the density of the solids increases, the dis-
tending powers by age, becomes less ; the heart moving slower
and more weakly, becomes as well as the vessels less irritable;
therefore


lxxiv
therefore the period must arrive, at which the extensile and unit-
ing powers balance each other.
Another cause, to produce the prevention of further growth,
is, the idea, that during the growth of animals, the arteries are ac-
quiring an increase of density, in a greater proportion than the
veins are at the same time ; for the arteries have always a tendency
to contract their cavities : and that the resistance in the veins, with
respect to the arteries, must be constantly diminishing, the former,
therefore, will receive a greater proportion of blood;* whilst the
arteries in the same proportion will be less extended. Adding also,
to the diminished resistance in the veins, the decreasing power of
the heart, we may comprehend how rigidity of vessels takes place,
and of every fibre in the body, tending to maintain equilibrium
with the extending powers.
It will be, we hope, readily understood from the foregoing, how,
from the energy of the heart, the augmentation to the proper
stature is produced, youth, generally speaking, arriving at this
about the eighteenth or twentieth years of age; but the body is
then still slender, and unlike the adult, in form, and unequal to it
in vigour ; by degrees it increases more, and acquires another form,
becomes more proportioned, and lusty, the chest becoming fuller,
the shoulders broader, bones and muscles larger, and the joints
firmer. We may reasonably judge also, from the decrease of that
power of the heart, how the compression of the larger vessels,
and of the muscular and neighbouring parts upon the smaller
vessels
* This account of the change of the resistances in the arteries
and veins, with respect to one another, is agreeable to the phœno-
mena which shew, that the arteries are larger, and contain more
blood in proportion to the veins in young animals, than in old ;
that arterial hœmorhages occur most frequently in young persons ;
and that congestions in the veins, with hæmorrhages, or hydropic
effusions depending upon such a state, occur most frequently in
old age. Cullen, last. cited. 300. 


lxxv
vessels effects the obliteration of the cavities of these, and how the
rigidity of old age is effected*; the vital power, or excitability,
being also by the actions of the body, exhausted, decay of bodily
strength ensues, and loss of mental faculties. In such progression,
therefore, does the corporeal system proceed, through the morning,
noon, and evening of life. An interesting subject for man to dwell
upon, and such, as we beg may apologize for the farther insertion
of the poet's description:
When life is new the ductile fibres feel
The heart's increasing force ; and, day by day
The growth advances ; till the larger tubes,
Acquiring (from their elemental veins,
Condens'd to solid chords) a firmer tone
Sustain, and just sustain, th' impetuous blood.
Here stops the growth. With overbearing pulse
And pressure, still the great destroy the small ;
Still with the ruins of the small grow strong.
Life glows mean time, amid the grinding force
Of viscous fluids and elastic tubes;
It's various functions vigorously are plied
By strong machinery ; and solid health
The man confirm'd long triumphs o'er disease.
But the full ocean ebbs : There is a point,
By nature fix'd, whence life must downwards tend.
For still the beating tide consolidates
The stubborn vessels, more reluctant still
To the weak throbs of th' ill supported heart.
This languishing, these strength'ning by degrees
To hard unyielding unelastic love,
Thro' tedious channels the congealing flood
Crawls lazily, and hardly wanders on ;
K It
* Conspectus medicinæ theoreticae auctore Jac. Gregory, M. D.
&c. Cap. 22. 


lxxvi
It loiters still : And now it stirs no more.
This is the period few attain ; the death
Of nature : thus (so heav'n ordain'd it) life
Destroys itself ; and cou'd these laws have chang'd,
Nester might now the sates of Troy relate ;
And Homer live immortal as his song*.
We have only in this part of the subject, to add something relative
to HOEMOPTYSIS. Taking for granted, the reasoning which is
applied† to prove the different proportion of the density and
strength, subsisting between the arteries and veins at different ages,
the power of which in infancy and youth, is in favour of the veins,
in adult and more advanced age in the arteries ; the equilibrium
being supposed generally to take place about the thirty-fifth year
of age‡: hence, if plethora happens in the body before that time,
it is supposed to shew itself in the arteries, because of their laxity
and
* Armstrong loc. cit. b ii. l. 516.
† Cullen's first lines, 751 et seq. 766.
‡ " In general it may be observed, that when the several parts,
" of the system of the Aorta (system of the arteries) have attain-
" ed their full growth and are duly balanced with one another,
" if then any considerable degree of plethora remain or arise, the
" nicety of the balance will be between the system s of the aorta
" and pulmonary artery, or between the vessels of the lungs and
" those of ail the rest of the body. And although the lesser ca-
" pacity of the vessels of the lungs is commonly compensated by
" the greater velocity of the blood in them; yet, if this velo-
" city be not always adjusted to the necessary compensation, it is
" probable that a plethoric state of the whole body will always be
" especially felt in the lungs; and therefore, that an hoemorrhagy
" as the effect of a general plethora, may be frequently occasioned
" in the lungs ; even though there be no fault in their conforma-
" tion." Cullen loc. cit. 760.


lxxvii
and debility, rendering them capable of receiving a greater pro-
portion of blood than what an opposite condition in the veins
allows. If so, then, upon the application of any sudden and
violent cause, the distribution of blood may be disturbed, what
is deemed congestion, by some, may take place, and rupture of,
and discharge of blood from the arteries, happen as in Hœmop-
tysis.
The lungs are small, in comparison to the vascular system of
the whole body ; yet their blood-vessels are large, and more nu-
merous proportionately ; containing much blood, the entire
quantity of the system being obliged, after respiration takes place,
to pass through them. They are loosely supported by the neigh-
bouring parts, therefore should they not be in a healthy state,
they may be supposed not capable of bearing an increased impe-
tus of blood, from strong exciting causes, and unable to resist
effects, equally with the vigorous body ; especially in the full
state which is imagined to supervene the growth of the body, or
whilst the density of the veins over balances that of the arteries*.
Those who are of the constitution we have before described,
seldom bear without hoemorrhage the application of sudden and
violent external causes ; if we allow the plethoric state, or mal-
conformation opposing equal and regular distribution of blood,
or " faulty proportion between the capacity of the lungs and the
rest of the body."-They are those, who possess fulness with
laxity and delicacy Those who have suffered from the disease,
or born of parents who have been subjected to it. Those whose
minds are of an active temperament readily affected by violent
passions ; subject to hysterics ; in the time of age chiefly between
the sixteenth and thirty-eighth year. The predisposition should
also be attended to as a circumstance to which our allusions are
ever made ; whether there be malconformation or not, or tuber-
culous state. It is in that, that genuine Hoemoptysis is gene-
rally
* See what is said, in the sequel, on Exercise.


lxxviii
rally traced ; and mostly brought into effect, by taking cold or
other injuries as whatsoever stimulates the sanguine circulation,
or hurries the nervous power. Whatsoever may cause determi-
nation of blood to the lungs, as impediments interrupting cir-
culation in other parts ; or suppressed habitual discharges ; want
of exercise, with full diet, and the abuse of condiments or other
stimulants ; hidden and violent exercise of the whole body, or
particular parts ; or whatsoever violently hurries respiration ;
unfavorable postures of the body, coldness of the extremities and
suppressed perspiration.
An exciting cause mentioned by Cullen, and which we have
used in our poetical part, is external heat ; which he says, even
when in no great degree will bring on the disease in spring, and
the beginning of summer, while the beat rarifies the blood more
than it relaxes the solids, which before had been contracted by
the cold of winter. It may be so, perhaps, if we may be allow-
ed to suppose, that after the cold of winter, the operation of the
effects of spring and warmth are on the human body in some de-
gree as upon animals which have been torpid. The stimulus
of warmth having been defective, the excitability becomes ac-
cumulated, and is susceptible of less stimulus afterwards, to it's
increased irritability. He ranks also, amongst the exciting
causes, a sudden diminution of the weight of the atmosphere,
of which undoubtedly some instances may be brought ; but they
are very rare in our climate. Our bills are not of such a height
as to give cause to that, which Authors have described in ex-
alted situations, from diminished pressure of the air ; nor do we
find, that those who have descended into the lowest depths we
have in mines, &c. find an opposite effect from the pressure.
But, heat and exercise in attaining ascents, may, to the predis-
posed, by hurrying respiration to whom all great efforts of the
kind are hurtful, certainly act as an exciter of hoemorrhagy.
So also, bodily exertions as increasing heat, and when aided also
by 


lxxix
by external heat, as in warm rooms and crowded assemblies may
likewise act-when the blood,
Too much already maddens in the veins:
Such Exercise increases the circulation through all parts ; forci-
bly propels the blood to the extreme vessels ; by which the dis-
charge from the exhalants of perspiration is augmented. Those
-small arterial lengths that pierce
In endless millions the close woven skin.
The velocity of the blood proving, in the first effect a violent
stimulus, by the increase of heat, to the whole frame ; respira-
tion is exceedingly hurried. Hence, it may urge determination
of blood to parts, which otherwise might have remained in an
innocent state ; and if we may be allowed to suppose any local
defect, morbid complaint or atony of vessels there to which the
added debility which ensues to the whole frame, from the ex-
hausting effect of much exercise, may contribute, we may easily
conjecture the consequences.
When all at once from indolence to toil
You spring, the fibres by the hasty shock
Are tir'd and crack'd before their nuctuous coats,
Compress'd, can pour the lubicating balm.
Besides, collected in the passive veins,
The purple mass a sudden torrent rolls,
O'erpowers the heart, and deluges the lungs
With dangerous inundation : oft' the source
Of fatal woes ; a cough that foams with blood,
Asthma, and feller Peripneumony,
Or the flow ruinings of the hectic fire*.
We have supposed, under such a state of excitement from
Exercise, the sudden exposure of a predisposed constitution, to
sud-
* Armstrong loc. cit. B. l. 3. 192. 


lxxx
sudden cold, as one means amongst others, of causing the worst
consequences ; not as the only one, because chiefly mentioned;
but as the most coincident with common, and old popular opi-
nion ; and one which truly experience can say has been verily
pernicious to many young people*. A danger which the Poet
whose language we have so frequently introduced energetically
thus cautions against.
Hot from the field, indulge not yet your limbs
In wish'd repose ; nor court the fanning gale,
Nor taste the spring. O ! by the sacred tears
Of Widows, Orphans, Mothers, Sisters, Sires,
Forbear ! No other pestilence has driven
Such myriads o'er the irremeable deep.
Why this so fatal, the sagacious Muse
Through nature's cunning labyrinths could trace :
But there are secrets which who knows not now,
Must, ere he reach them, climb the heapy Alps
Of science; and devote seven years to toil ;
Besides, I would not stun your patient ears
With what it little boots you to attain.
He knows enough, the mariner, who knows
Where lurk the shelves, and where the whirlpools boil,
What signs portend the storm : to subtler minds
He leaves to scan, from what mysterious cause
Charybdis rages th' Ionian wave ;
Whence those impetuous currents in the main
Which neither oar nor sail can stem ; and why
The roughening deep expects the storm, as sure
As red Orion mounts the shrouded heaven*.
One
* Armstrong loc. cit. B. 3. l. 219.
* See what is said on Catarrh, in the preceding part, the last
note on that subject. 


lxxxi
One reason given, accounting for hoemorrhage from the
lungs, from cold or distress of mind, has been from the con-
striction induced on the superficial vessels of the surface of the
body; which preventing the free transmission of fluids there,
determines a great quantity of blood with preternatural impulse
to the internal parts*. To which should be added, the effect
which the stimulus of exposure afterwards to a superior degree
of heat would cause†.
Transitions made suddenly from degrees of heat, to those much in-
ferior, or vice versa, are well known to produce inflammatory
affections ; as in Catarrh or Pneumony‖. And when this hap-
pens in such constitutions as we have pointed out, it is seldom
that it proceeds to a favourable issue ; if a purulent state is not
prevented in the lungs. Besides those causes, there are others,
producing excessive stimulus ; and which favour the effects of
exciting causes. As fullness of blood, produced by inactivity,
or its velocity increased by motion or labour, which affect the
whole system, as well as the lungs; whose structure allows them
to be affected by any shock given to the whole body, causing
distension, and greater determination of blood to them. It is
judged that a wound from Hœmoptysis, or Ulcer, from Pneu-
mony, can only produce Phthisis under particular circumstances
of the constitution‡.
We have introduced certain morning ideas at Rockly, a
small village on the border of the Dawns, about two miles from
Marlborough in Wiltshire, on the left hand of the road from
hence to Swindon ; the residence of the honorable Colonel St.
John :
* Cullen loc. cit. 1047.
† See what is observed relative to cold bathing, and a note at
the end of the subject of Catarrh.
‖ Inflammation of the lungs.
‡ ibid-867. & seq. & 898. 


lxxxii
John : during an abode in whose hospitable mansion, this work
was composed.
In topographical and natural history, this place has been men-
tioned, as remarkable for the accidental and temporary breaking
forth of a spring of water in certain winter seasons, at irregular
intervals of years, accordingly as circumstances and the nature
of the weather happen. It discharges a large quantity of water
for a certain period, and then ceases. It is known by the name
of Hungerbourne. Which circumstance is deemed by the neigh-
bouring people to indicate a dry sequent Summer. It flowed co-
piously last year, whilst the Author was there.
On the Downs, contiguously to Rockly, are left those marks
of antiquity called Barrows. Some of which, are in a very per-
fect state, untouched by the sacrilegious hands of curiosity ;
whilst others have been penetrated and disturbed by the scruti-
nizing hopes of avarice, or antiquarian desire.
The* learned simplicity of the ancient Britons dictated to them
no other kind of funereal monument, than a small hillock of
earth to cover the bodies of the diseased, which they rightly
deemed sufficient to preserve their relics, and to perpetuate their
memory to posterity. How much unlike the desires of many, of
the present age, who strive to heap over their great dead, a super-
fluity of cumbrous ornaments, and proclaim their excellence at
random in pompous epitaphs !
The marble tombs that rise on high ;
Whose dead in vaulted arches lie,
Whose Pillars swell with sculptur'd stones,
Arms, Angels, Epitaphs, and Bones,
These, all the poor remains of state,
Adorn the rich, or praise the great ;
Who while on earth in same they live
Are senseless of the fame they give§.
Our
* From the Beauties of British Antiquity, by John Collinson.
§ Night-piece on Death, by Dr. Parnell.


lxxxiii
Our ancestors used no such vain mementos, and yet their me
mory still lives in the green turf, and in all parts of this island
we view with reverence and delight their unadorned sepulchers.
The name of Barrows, is supposed to be from the Saxon, signi-
fying the receptacle of the hidden dead : they are heaps of earth
thrown up in a conical form, and are sometimes surrounded with
a circle of upright stones, but generally with a shallow trench,
which is the case with those near Rockley. Sometimes the
trench surrounds two or more of them. Such as in different
parts of this Island have been opened, have been found to contain
not only the half burnt remains of the interred, with urns full
of ashes, but also arms, vestments and female trinkets ; as beads,
bodkins, &c. In some have been discovered the instruments
used by the Druids for cutting the mistletoe of the oak: in others
burnt bones of animals ; pieces of hewn stones, swords and pole-
axes.
Northerly from Rockley, and about three miles distant from
the vale, where some of the most perfect of the Barrows in this
neighbourhood remain, upon the Barbury hills, a ridge over-
looking the northern part of Wiltshire, stands the camp called
Barbury ; in the parish of Ogborne St. George : the village of
which, is distant about two miles Eastward of hence, and in
which, are several marks of its antiquity, besides the indications
which some of its rights and privileges, and the holding of cer-
tain courts here, manifest.
That camp stands on one of the western eminences of the
ridge of hills, which run east and west ; and is in some parts
very steep : especially to the north, and west, separating the high
ground or Downs, from the fertile country below. Looking to-
wards which, from this spot, the eye is delighted with the exten-
sive and rich prospect which it enjoys; so different in aspect, to
that which appears when we look back upon the Downs : where,
the scene has a wildness, from the defect of inclosure, in our view-
K ing 


lxxxiv
ing the contiguous, distant and broken, range of hill and vale,
de void of trees. The whole of which extent is dedicated to Pan
and Ceres; affording fine corn-land, and a large tract of her-
bage for sheep. On the other hand, the prospect into Glouces-
tershire and other parts, is, as Collinson says, under the eye like
a map ; as far as the Welsh hills beyond the Severn, whose
lovely prospect would naturally animate the Britons in it's de-
fence, as the Roman's in it's conquests. It is indeed a fine scene
of woods, towns, pastures, rivers and valleys.
Barbury appears to be a Roman entrenchment, is of a circular
form and double ditched quite round ; the inner ditch originally
must have been very deep, in many places now the cavity is
much filled up by the descent of earth; the rampart is still high.
There are two entrances, one upon the east, and another on the
west diameter, which is two thousand Roman feet long*. At
the west, the inmost rampire retires inwards a little to make a
port with jambs eastward, the outer ditch turns round with a se-
micircular sweep, leaving two passages through it obliquely to
the main entrance, like our modern half-moons.
From this encampment, towards the South may he seen ano-
ther Roman camp, on Martinsall Hill ; which is very steep on
some sides. It is conspicuous at a great distance, and is within
sight of all the camps in that country. North-easterly of Bar-
bury, another entrenchment called Lydington may be seen; form-
ed upon a very conspicuous eminence: but whether the work
of the Romans or Danes we do not determine.
In several places on the Downs, are found massy stones, of va-
rious figures and sizes, sometimes in an isolated situation, some-
times in great numbers together as in the way from Rockley to
Abury ;
* The Roman foot being somewhat more than 11 2/1 in English
measure, or 11 I. & 604 pts.


lxxxv
Abury; in some situations they appear as if sited with design,
having some regularity of order; in others quite reversely so:
of some, a very small portion only appears above ground of their
large bulk, others are placed superficially with their rude and
immense size entirely exposed. They are generally called Grey-
Weathers, having their name, probably, from their resemblance
to a flock of sheep at a distance ; which the colour of the mosses
with which they are mostly covered gives. They seem to be of
the same nature as those stones which remain standing at Abury.
and originally composed a part of the Druidical temple there :
their texture is very hard seemingly of the nature of flint with
gritstone.
Having now conducted this part of our design to the limits in-
tended, we leave it, and the whole of our present endeavours, ex-
posed to the view of their Readers. To a distance from the
throne of judgment we retire, (under the tutelage of hope).
waiting the determination of those who take presidency there,
Liberal and generous minds know how to be lenient to imper-
fections ; and an assurance has long ago administred this conso-
lation, That
He's half absolv'd who has confess'd*.
Willing to bear the hand of correction, we ask only that pru-
dence may direct it ; and whilst we supplicate for the absence of
severity, we would commend as a companion for our judges,
Reason.
Equally form'd to rule in age and youth
The friend of virtue and the guide truth†.
INDEX.
* Prior's Alma. Cauti. 2.
† The Apology Churchill. 




INDEX.
*** The Roman Numericals refer to the Preliminary Observations ; the
other Figures to the Poem:
Abury - lxxxv.
Acme - lxx, 79.
Barrows - lxxxii, 93.
Barbury Castle - 94.
Bleeding at the Nose - lxxiii.
Catarrh - lix, lxxxi, 99.
Catching-cold - xxvi, lx, lxxi, 98. See Transitions.
Children, observations relative to - xi,
xii, xix, xx, xxx, xlii, xlv, xlvi, xlviii.
Cheek floridity of - xvi, 10.
Climate change of - xxxvi, 37.
- nature of - xviii.
- in Britain - xxii, xxvi, 36.
- variableness of - xx.
Clothing - xviii, xxix, xxxvi, xxxix. See Flannel.
Cold-Bath - l, lx.
Complexion - viii, ix. See Phthisical form
Consumption - v, 8.
- a cause of - xliv, liv.
- florid - xiv.
- scrophulous- xxxiii.
- varieties of - xv.
Contagion See Phthisis.
Debility in whom xv, 27, 9, 10, 11, 12.
Diet - xxxvi, xliv, 39.
Disposition hereditary - vi, 12.
- advice to those of 36.
Distortion and causes - xi, 11, 12.
Dogmatic


2
Dogmatic principles - 28.
Downs - 92.
Elegies - 16, 68.
Empirical ostentation See Quacks
Evening's vagary, a Poem lxviii.
Exercise - xxxvi. xxxix.
- some effects of lxxix, 80, 81, 96, 97.
- cautions for - 85.
Eyes pearly appearance of - xviii.
- vivacity and expression of xv. 16.
Flannel use of - xxxix, 38.
Female Sex a Constitution in them, assumed
as a pourtrait - xiv. 9, 20.
Florid temperament lii, and note * 54.
Grey Weathers - lxxxv. 94, 95.
Growth of the Body - lxxi, 79.
Heat-external - lxxxviii. 80.
Hectic - v. 8, 100.
Hœmoptic temperament advised 44, 45.
Hœmeoptysis - lxxvi. 99.
Hope - lxv. See Phthisis:
Hungerbourne - lxxxii.
Knowledge and Art, Medical-unsuccessful-
ness of - xxx, 24, 27. and seq.
Living manner of - xviii. xxix, liv.
Lydington - lxxxiv.
Malconformation of the chest - ix, 13.
Martinsall hill - lxxxiii.
Non-naturals - xlvii.
Ogborne St. George - lxxxiii.
Passions depressing - lx, lxv, 51. & seq. 64. & seq.
Phthisis the subject of thePoem mentioned 8.
- definition of - iv.
Phthisis


3
Phthisis in whom alluded to, see Female Sex
- stealthy mode of attack 49.
- frequencyand fatality of xvii, 13, 14.
- scrophulous nature of xviii.
- contagious nature of lviii, 41.
- degree of suffering in lxii, 49, 50.
- hopeful delusion in lxiii, lxiv, 102.
- cure of - xxxv, 27.
- ultimate morbid effects of 100, & seq.
Phthisical form and appearance of those sup-
posed prone to Phthisis x, 9, 10, & note p. 44.
- cautions and advice to 42, 44.
Pneumony - lxxxi, 99.
Pneumatic-medicine - lv, 40.
Predisposition - v. See Disposition and (Phthisical form.
Prophylaxis - xxxv. 35 to 43.
Quacks - xxxiv, 28. 30.
Rockley - xxxviii, 92.
Sea-Voyages - xxxviii, 37.
Seasons favourable or not to the Phthisical
xxxviii, 37.
Sentiment, a poetical - lxiv.
Scrophula - xxxii.
Situations for the Phthisical lxii, 37, 39.
Teeth-whiteness of - viii, 10.
Temperament - 8.
- Sanguine and Phthisical xiii. See Phthsical form (and Female Sex
- of decreased irritability xvi.
Transitions sudden xxxix, lxxx, lxxxi, 98. See Catarrh catch in Cold.
Tubercles - lvi.
- cautions and advice in lxix, 41. 




5
ERRATA
IN THE PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS.
Page Line
3 2 for I hope read it is hoped.
5 - are read be and delete I hope.
6 - will read may.
8 - I will not read the Author.
- me read him.
10 - the Author read him.
4 3 delete we have.
9 - I have done, and for deserving read deserves.
10 for my read the Author's
11 - its read his
16 - whilst I avow that I have often affixed blame to this read whilst
it is avowed that blame has often been affixed to this
17 - I read the Author
18 - I read hi
19 - I am read is
20 - to offer in this part I shall only read to be offered in this part he
can only
21 - I read he
22 - I read he
23 - have been read has been
- I have read he has
- my read his
24 - I read he
6 in the note * for irrestituibiles, though printed as the original
read perhaps inevitabiles
9 7 for in read it
14 4 of the note for phther read plethora
15 note ‖ line 3 for inaugurales read inauguralis
22 | for Augliœ read Angliae
26 5 for renas scentia read renascentia
8 - daudorum read dandorum
27 2 - gluicive read genuine
18 - capellary read capillary
29 2 - irimary read urinary
17 - peridoratory read persperatory
29 after consumption, insert we do not mean
30 7 for irribility read irritability
22 - espicially read especially
not for protenus read protinus
- occurere read occurrere
- necessorium read nessarium
31 1 - Meron read Morton
note - caetesi read caeteri
33 16 deathesis read diathesis
17 1 for reek read reck


6
Page Line
39 26 after substances insert which
- furs insert when, and delete it
40 4 for swarm read warm
24 for pullumonic read pulmonic
41 9 insert † after Gravedo and * after brows
in the note † for caetaerrhous read catarrhous
43 in the note † line 6 for interalaneas read inter laneas
-texturs read textura
-optiame read optima
47 in the note ‡ line 8 for citüs read citubus
51 1 for it is read its
in the note ‡ line 7 for restore read restores
52 4 for thermometor read thermometer
54 1 for infractious read infarctious
56 in the note † line 8 after vessels insert a period, and for the read The
line 10 for siguis read signis
58 8 for procatorotic read procatarctic
in the note * line 2 for experentia read experientia
- observari read observavi
60 18 for * insert §
in the note † for dessertatio read dissertatio
65 line 4 - intempestava read intempestiva
- lougae read louga
‡ line 5 - Tabedorum read Tabidorum
66 in the note * - 2 - ablerunt read abierunt
73 9 for incrcase read increase
76 5 - Nester read Nestor
79 20 - nuctuous read unctous
21 - lubicating read lubricating 
80 5 - * infert † and make the reference to the note similarly


PHTHISIOLOGIA
A
POEM
MISCELLANEOUSLY - DESCRIPTIVE and DIDACTICAL;
IN FOUR
PARTS.
QUIS POTIS EST DIGNUM POLLENTI PECTORE CARMEN
CONDERE, PRO RERUM MAJESTATE, HISQUE REPRRTIS?
LUCRET L. 5. 1.
PART I. 




GENERAL ANALYSIS
OF THE FIRST PART.
Introduction-the Reader requested to prepare his
mind for a subject of a serious nature-A wish to please.
-Address to Candour.-Requital for kindness and cha-
ritable correction desired.-Satisfaction accruing to the
mind in having done what has given pleasure to others.
-Thankful sense of a benefit experienced from lenity.
Address to the amicable.-Abuse of the term, Friend.-
Expectations not always realized.-Sentiments experi-
enced from the attachment to, and cultivation of Poetry.
Deprecation of the sufferings of some of its votaries.-
Fate of Chatterton regretted.-Genius, misery attendant.
Address, consequences effected on the mind, under the in-
fluence of disappointment, instances in the fate and suf-
ferings of some distinguished characters.-Phthisis, the
subject of the Poem, mentioned.-Attentions given to the
character from infancy to more advanced age ; personal
description.-Hope, it's frailty, and reasons.-Character-
istic pourtrait of a phthisical temperament of body and
mind.-Other conditions described, and their dissimilitude.
Others,


2
-Others, and some causes alluded to.-Distortion of the
thorax, and some symptoms attendant on such a preter-
natural state.-Regret descriptively painted for such as
are in this isle the martyrs of Phthisis, it's frailty com-
pared.-Request to the sympathetic.-Elegiac reflections
in remembrance of a sister.-Conclusion of this part of 
the Poem, such as are the objects of Phthisis.


PHTHISIOLOGIA. 
PART I. 
LET now thy mind, with pensive sense be fraught, 
Estrang'd to giddy mirth's fantastic thought, 
Who e'er thou art!—That wilt attention spare, 
To listen to the voice of sober care. 
Expect no sentiment to quell a pain, 
Or jocund touch of laughter-moving strain. 
No off'rings of festivity I bring, 
The language of Melpomene I sing, 
For

4 
For joyless words from utterance descend, 
When mortal mis'ries on the heart attend; 
And piti'd frailties, mingled with life's fate, 
Such as the muse seeks to delineate. 
O! whilst I write with animated will, 
May I this prompter's active hope fulfil!
May others kindly it's exertions greet! 
And may my lines their approbation meet! 
Candour befriend me; as my wants request, 
Come with thy smiles, and sooth my fears to rest!
Thy favours pleaseand—brighten ev'ry day, 
And shed afar, true satisfaction's ray; 
May happiness that bosom long requite, 
Who to another ministers delight! 
Grant, heaven, his soul may never fail to know 
The sweets which he to others shall bestow! 
Who error, may with good intent detect, 
And shall with charity, it's acts correct! 
Oft' have I truly felt the deed repaid. 
Where my poor labours gave a needed aid; 
Or if the effort consolation lent, 
My bosom cheer'd, has felt thy joys—Content;
Or 


5 
Or where my heart a foible has revealed, 
Which amity's soft mantle has conceal'd,
And to oblivion has offence consign'd 
Unwitted act; of the most cautious mind;
Grateful I've plac'd it in memorial care, 
With sense infix'd—which death shall but impair. 
Come ye; who can such mental kindness give; 
Enroll'd in friendship's list—come with me live. 
A Friend!—kind name! to ev'ry good alli'd, 
Yet by the world, alas! how misappli'd! 
Compact admir'd! that mankind implore
And oft' as fancied certainty adore. 
But ask the image for expected aid, 
And see how fast it's painted beauties fade. 
Deaf then to all thy craving of supplies 
It's frigid temper ev'ry help denies. 
A shadow! that approaches seeming grasp, 
Then fleeting flies and quits the wished clasp. 
From earth, a substance much I fear far fled
A barren relic—but in name—now dead. 
Yet shou'd I venture where to seek it's rest, 
Some hope wou'd, Clara, lead me to thy breast. 
Oft'

6 
Oft' have I thrown in humbled thought away
The lyre that so much pleas'd in early day. 
Whose magic nature oft' the heart has warm'd, 
And hours of youth with pleasing transport charm'd. 
When vagrant fancy's flow'ry charms beguil'd 
The sentiment, through fiction's regions wild. 
Still, wou'd I, list'ning to the muse's lore, 
Court her coy arts, and envi'd smiles adore. 
Then rouz'd—go foolish hope—my fear has cri'd 
Success—nor honour—here thy steps betide, 
Forsake thy suit—but still fresh wishes came, 
Which touch'd the bosom with strong fervor's claim. 
All their bewitching influence I prov'd, 
And more the muse's haunts and warblings lov'd. 
O what so dear—so fair to me as thee! 
Applauded sweet of verse and harmony! 
For thee what pleasures wou'd I not resign! 
To cultivate the hope of gaining thine. 
Far be those griefs that once on him* were shed, 
When hope forsook his anxious phrenzi'd head. 
When dark despair true virtue overcame, 
And caus'd the deed which quench'd the vital flame. 
* Chatterton. 
Let

7 
Let Britain blush that truth the tale can tell, 
That he unfriended and scarce known, so fell. 
Be the due meed to genius ever given, 
Genius, the brightest boon of heaven; 
Bright vainly art thou! if thy fire consume
That bud of peace that with thy life should bloom; 
If mix'd with sorrow all thy gifts are made 
The prey of penury's obscuring shade. 
Where hopelessness pours forth th' impressing line, 
And builds an altar at despair's dark shrine. 
Frail reason there a sacrifice is brought, 
Whilst harras'd thought to strongest sense is wrought. 
O thou exalted flame of strength refin'd! 
Thou subtle spirit of the active mind! 
That bearest fancy far on wings sublime, 
O'er skimmest worlds and boundaries of time. 
Celestial largess! giv'n to the soul, 
Too nobly born to bear this world's controul. 
Though doom'd alas! by fortune oft' to prove
The pangs of want, or of despondent love. 
Pangs made more keen—impell'd with deepest woe, 
On minds that most thy greatest favours know. 
Witness

8 
Witness a Petrarch's long and ardent flame; 
Constant his heart—and fair its worth and fame: 
Yet ah! his truth immortally renown'd, 
No blissful compact in this orbit crown'd. 
Cervantes—son of superstitious Spain, 
With courage, sense, and satire in his train. 
No friend, no lib'ral patron strove to save
From want, from prison, or the silent grave. 
Say too, how heart affecting Otway fell, 
Amidst the ills which blameful pages tell. 
Thus hapless bards, whom fickle fortune scorns, 
Apollo's hand with lavish'd gifts adorns. 
PHTHISIS, my theme, thou flow destructive force! 
That canst so oft's health's property divorce. 
Hecti—Consumption—or what name avow'd. 
The world thy deathly power has allow'd. 
That blastest fertile youth's expanding bloom, 
And bring'st it prostrate to it's finite doom. 
'Gainst whom so little human art avails, 
When thy dire grasp the system frail assails. 
'Tis thee, within the mental eye I see, 
Thou murd'rous cat'rer, for our destiny! 
Clad

9 
Clad in that form, and cause unnotic'd yet, 
Such as thy baleful being may beget. 
To speak of thee, I venture this essay, 
And diffidently dare the frame pourtray! 
Which sway'd by thee drifts on to wayward fate, 
And what thou wast and art wou'd personate. 
Bless'd with those cares which tenderness demands, 
Since first thy life breath'd on Lucina's hands. 
Thy form the charms of blooming Hebe bless'd, 
And beauty's animated gifts possess'd. 
By safety nurs'd, pass'd o'er infantile fears
To the bright acmé of thy youthful years. 
Lovely in elegance of mildest air, 
And blandishments—in graceful structure—fair. 
Tranflucid tints throughout thy frame prevail 
Effeminate—and in descent form'd frail. 
Of virgin sex—for this I wou'd now deem
Th'approved object of my destin'd theme. 
Hope—through thy life opinion wou'd allure, 
That ample fruit the blossom wou'd ensure. 
That time thy being wou'd improv'd protect, 
And thus o'ercome the fear'd innate defect.
C But


10 
But to graft vigour vainly we essay 
On that faint stem whose tendence is decay, 
Whose feeble health no energy pervades,
But vacant power each attempt degrades. 
On that weak base which due support denies, 
Who seeks to raise a dome to reach the skies! 
The candid aspect never feign'd to hide 
The minute vessels of the sanguine tide; 
Adorns with dulcet hue the expressive face, 
Whose albid cheeks are bloom'd with crimson'd space; 
As if the pallid rose a carmin'd tinge 
Should the young flower's tenderness impinge. 
Loose flow'd the hair in lengthen'd figure trac'd, 
With ease and freedom in it's wavings grac'd. 
Sweetly it deck'd the form it wanton'd nigh, 
In mildest col'ring of the flaxen die. 
Love seem'd delighted there to spread a snare, 
And aid th' attractions lavish'd on his care. 
The rubid lip on pearly teeth impos'd, 
The smiles of placid innocence disclos'd.
Whilst from the eyes enamell'd tunic teem'd, 
O'er every look—benevolence forth beam'd; 
Whose

11 
Whose sprightly pleasantry delight ensur'd, 
And admiration to their charms allur'd. 
Graces with winning chearfulness combin'd. 
And fadeless honours of good temper's mind! 
Of easy manners chasten'd by good sense, 
And gen'rous spirit of beneficence. 
On virtue and it's happy rules intent, 
Nor like the body to mutation bent. 
Whose fickle health, adversely on this sphere. 
Now unsuspected, tends to brief career. 
If wary prudence, with sagacious deed, 
To preservation's laws urge not nice heed. 
To court Hygeia, and her blithsome train, 
And shun ensuing cause of morbid pain. 
With such munificence as now is nam'd, 
Some may be not so liberally fram'd. 
For nature's will may diff'rent states bestow,
And sparingly, her bounties more, allow. 
As flow'rs ill suited to the planted soil, 
Unfitly made for life's important toil. 
Unlike the sons of labour, whose strong form
Endures in vigor ev'ry vital storm; 
Unlike

12
Unlike the image fancy contemplates, 
Or poet's language aptly imitates; 
Pond'ring on beauties faultlessly array'd, 
And to the heart in richest thought display'd. 
Unlike the symmetry that art combines, 
Which in the school of sculptur's knowledge shines;
Or in the nice touch'd traits admired live,
That imitation's fertile pow'rs can give. 
A feeble offspring of degen'rate blood, 
As if created in a careless mood. 
Hereditary lapse—devoid of fire, 
Such as can strength and energy inspire. 
Or else the child of inattention's nurse, 
Alas! the parents' and the infants' curse, 
Which injury, and multiplied ills
In vari'd ways upon the health instils. 
Rich in the spoil of ev'ry heedless deed, 
And vacant of each aid requir'd by need. 
Whence modes are gain'd, and potent mischiefs rise, 
And forms, that all corrective art defies. 
A shape specific, pregnant with each woe, 
To health and life's endurance constant foe. 
Or


13 
Or cause allotted, diverse as unknown, 
Upon the crescive age with harm may frown. 
Where no condition can the wishes trace, 
Such as adorns a more invig'rate race. 
Within the close, distorted, bony mold, 
The vital organs scarce their use unfold. 
The lab'ring sides incessant toil for food, 
T' imbibe satiety of ærial food. 
Whilst respiration wheezing in each deed, 
Dolesome pursues half stifled painful speed. 
From the short breaths' quick heaved narrow bounds, 
Scarcely the raucose hollow voice resounds. 
Whilst feeble utterance with struggles lives, 
And to the urging cough new motives gives. 
Whose constant teazings of disquietude, 
With force exigent on the chest intrude. 
Ceaselessly troubl'd by each passing gale, 
That wakes the sense, or can the lungs assail. 
Pity—that such, on whom perfection's smile 
The blooming beauties of the British isle! 
Whose votive nymph's Tritonia has deck'd, 
And where the sister'd trine their throne erect. 
Where

14
Where Dionea joyfully allows 
Her gifts, and favours placidly bestows. 
Such as the Poet's fruitful fancy knew, 
When bright Alcina's * lovely form he drew. 
Fair as man's thought of angels cou'd invent, 
Or heaven in human model represent. 
Replete with all that friendship wou'd approve
To wake the much admiring heart to love. 
My luckless knowledge, such alas! can mourn,
And wakeful mem'ry view in thought forlorn. 
For such that record now the lay dictates, 
And lenient compassion consecrates, 
To tell some cause, paint the fell disease
That stings the sweets of many a parent's ease. 
That lovers in viduity prostrates, 
And many friends dooms long to sorrow's fates. 
Countless the numbers, Clemency may say, 
That speed to Pluto thus their early day. 
Lethal as evils on this world wide spread, 
That call their millions to the silent dead. 
Or stand alli'd with war's, or febrile ill, 
To bid the Parcæ their design fulfill. 
Mischiefs, by whate'er nam'd, that cause our race 
To quit the tenure of this life's embrace. 
Whilst
* See Orlando Furioso. 

15 
Whilst such bewail'd, engage our tristful pains, 
That bid affection tell it's mournful strains. 
Of those unnam'd, to whom our heeds belong, 
Whose merits claim the eulogy of song. 
Ye sympathetic, who the heart indulge, 
Will ye forgive what ardour may divulge! 
If this attempt—I ask ye to approve! 
That wreathes a sister's urn with lines of love. 

REFLECTIONS 
IN REMEMBRANCE OF A SISTER.
PACE flow ye footsteps to the vocal lyre, 
As treading on the torpid grave's domain, 
And harmonizing with the heart's desire, 
Awak'd accordant, be the melting strain. 
Notes fit responsive to my lift'ning ear, 
Are languent, soft, alike my pensive mind, 
Whilst hours and skies that others fill with fear, 
Please—they, for me—and sadness were design'd. 
Amidst

17
Amidst the silent dead I love to muse, 
When starry night with unbroke silence reigns, 
When ev'ry leaf a motion does refuse, 
And not a breeze to venture forth then deigns. 
I think of those who sleep beneath my feet, 
Who left their sighs to worldlings and to me; 
Some whom I've known—with thought of past I greet, 
And think on what our joys were wont to be. 
Dead now to me—dead many friends I love, 
Can thought meet your's—and intercourse maintain! 
To your abode it flie—though here I rove, 
Exalted spirits! hear me hence complain. 
I'll hie me to the earth where Anna lies, 
And there a tearful sacrifice create, 
There on it's fod I'll breathe a brother's sigh. 
And think on virtue whilst I her's relate. 
Ye youthful fair—ye calm'd thought vestal train, 
Whose forms attuned feeling dignifies! 
Bring here each type of sympathetic pain, 
To deck her shrine—who here unsculptur'd lies. 
D She

18
She whom in life each youth with praise wou'd sing, 
Here too shou'd have in death true virtue's same, 
Here gentle minds your dulcet tributes bring, 
And bless her mem'ry with a deathless name. 
Gives heav'n a sister with a heart like thine, 
Dear Anna—lovely—in all good array'd! 
A heart, the seat of innocence divine 
'Tis just to laud when such in death shall fade. 
Thou meek ey'd daughter of benevolence! 
Whom heav'n in youth call'd to it's pure domains; 
To thee I owe truth's dutiful incense, 
Whilst reminiscence pow'r to praise retains. 
How shall my heart—thy true regard repay, 
Ardent affection wou'd my bosom tell, 
How much admired—zeal's attempt wou'd say, 
Whose strong fraught sentiments—vain words repel. 
Yet, let me add—by all thy friends appli'd, 
Was amity's esteem for thee combin'd; 
Nature to thee—no ornaments deni'd, 
To charm the eye, or captivate the mind. 
Like

19
Like as a beaut'ous flow'r of tender race, 
Nurs'd by the kindly softerage of care; 
Whose cautious guard'an ventures forth to place
The tempting beams of vernal sun to share. 
Clouds suddenly o'erwhelm the flatt'ring skies, 
A gelid storm, th' exposed plant assails, 
That all the help of serving haste defies, 
To save his hopes from the swift blighting gales. 
The driv'n hail, the blossom'd charms destroys, 
And all the nascent sweets of health despoils; 
It droops beneath the shock that thus annoys, 
Dies unredeemed by all future toils. 
So 'twas with thee to noxious ill expos'd 
Beneath the smiles of youth's brief destiny; 
Thy bloom the sick'ning hectic fate soon clos'd, 
And pale disease obscur'd thy lustred eye. 
Oh may reflection—thus to thee ascend, 
That speaks a farewell to thy merit due; 
Such shall thy happy manes not offend, 
They shall the pious theme approved view. 
D2 Thy

20 
Thy fall we mourn not, Anna, as alone 
Thine not, or multitude's the fate atone. 
Dread Phthisis! thy desires are undeni'd, 
Nor are thy boundless claims yet satisfi'd. 
Nor young, nor fair, impede thy vast demand, 
Or stay the strength of thy relentless hand. 
Such most thy mark are, of unerring aim 
On Albion, where spreads thy morbid fame. 

GENERAL ANALYSIS 
OF PART THE 
SECOND. 
Address to science, unsuccessfulness of the attempts of
theory and experience, in the attainment of that know- 
ledge, which is desired for the cure of Phthisis—Ques
tion, When the human mind shall become more perfect, 
and unembarassed by its present defects and infirmities, 
existing here with primæval excellence, various effects, 
which may priorly take place.—Address to the Deity.—
Little of certainty to be communicated of the success of
art and prophylaxis in preventing or contracting the 
fatality of Phthisis, allusions to the various sources 
whence medicaments have been derived and used.—Dog-
matical and empirical practice yet equally unsuccess-
ful.—Acknowledgment of defects candidly made, how- 
soever some may otherwise boast of their skill and power 
over that peculiarity of state, which evades the controul 
of medical aid—their fallibility and want of success 
exposed—hence the futility of rehearsing their mea- 
sures.




[22]
sures.—Caution to the credulous.—Confession that the 
cure is not infallibly known—study and hope still labour 
in the pursuit of that desirable event.—Praise, and 
rewards, due to him who may be so fortunate as to find
the means of cure for Phthisis.—Address to Grati— 
tude—its characteristic, and pleasing attributes.—The 
extended sway of Gratitude—desire to possess it—recom— 
mendation of it as a duty and debt to the Deity—regret 
for man's neglect—comparison.—Praise of him who cul— 
tivates this noble passion—advantages.—Tendent capa— 
city of the ungrateful for other vicious impressions—a
question and desire.—Motive for gratitude to heaven 
metaphorically mentioned.—The subject of Phthisis re- 
sumed.—Few, and what kind of rules are meant to be 
dictated.—Address to the Phthisically disposed, relative 
to the climate of Great Britain—and advice conse-
quent.—Danger of wintering in this Island—early use 
of change of climate, and sea voyages commended.—
What may be of use to those who are necessitated to
continue in Britain.—Further recommendations.—For 
such, the enumeration of situations here as best adapted
to their needs avoided for want of sufficient experi— 
ence; and the doubts which late opinions, derived from 
the knowledge of the atmosphere, have brought concern— 
ing

[23]
ing the advantages of those places which formerly were 
commended to the Phthisical.—Allusion to the aid which 
Pneumatic medicine promises—the apparent worthiness 
of its doctrines attracts commendation—hence the rec- 
titude of applying for its aid, promoted.—A tuberculous 
state of the lungs, advised to seek early medical auxili- 
ance, if possible.—Caution to such to avoid exposure to 
those afflicted with pulmonary consumption—under the 
idea of there being some truth in its being an occasional 
cause of the disease in the predisposed.—Advice to at- 
tend to primary symptoms.—Further indicative symp- 
toms mentioned.—Hints to those disposed to Hoemoptysis. 





PHTHISIOLOGIA. 
PART II. 
O SCIENCE! secund source of pow'r and wealth! 
And kind preceptor of the rules of health! 
Disrob'd, arise from thy reposing bed; 
Unveil thy light, and be its rays far spread! 
What spell restrictive binds thy friendly will, 
And, uncontrouled, leaves the Phthisic ill? 
To sing thy deeds and frequent overthrow, 
Would swell the triumph of the mighty foe. 
To say, where vacant of thy ask'd success, 
Thy hopes have fail'd to grant health's happiness. 
I from




25
I from that effort cease—that would narrate 
Thy hapless struggles with the potent fate. 
What theory's wild vagaries have taught, 
And what thy sons, alas! have vainly sought. 
What arm has try'd to shield the hostile force. 
What guard essay'd to stem its avid course?
Or how experience ventures to contend 
For that event to which its wishes tend? 
Alas! how few such well-meant efforts save! 
The victor's wreathe is destin'd for the grave. 
When shall the sun of truth, and wisdom's day, 
Chace error and despairing doubt away? 
When give to man a more unbounded sight, 
And deck his mind with heav'n's indulgent light? 
When shall the short-liv'd throbbing heart resign 
All those defects, which now, O man! are thine? 
When shed contentment's calmness on thy brow, 
And bid the thornless rose of Eden grow? 
When not a tear shall dim the lucid eye, 
Nor aught impede extensive charity: 
Nor vicious purpose e'er disturb the breast, 
But peace preside, with smiles, as virtue's guest?
E Many




26 
Many a storm shall urge the changing skies, 
Ere that elysian goodly morn shall rise. 
Many a pain shall bid its sorrows flow, 
Many a bosom mortal suff'rings know. 
Many a disappointment far shall spread 
Its sad dominion o'er the earnest head. 
Many a poison, on the barbed dart, 
Shall wing its way, and pierce the vital heart. 
Many a form, from tyrant laws shall fly, 
Many oppress'd, beneath those laws, shall die. 
Many shall fall beneath the hand of time. 
And many sink the victims of foul crime. 
Many a child of innocence afar 
Shall moan its lot—the sacrifice of war. 
Many a parent, with a mind forlorn, 
Shall weep its child, beneath affliction born. 
Many a lover, shall in sorrow prove 
The wayward fortune of his slighted love. 
Many a friend a grateful deed shall want. 
And o'er his injuries with tears descant. 
Many a foul of worth shall live forgot, 
And ign'rance usurp his rightful lot. 
Many a mind shall mourn for slighted health,
And poverty bemoan the loss of wealth. 
These,





27 
These, these, and thousands more, shall men deplore, 
Till perfect blish dwells constant on our shore. 
But thou! who from the high æther'al blaze! 
Where countless seraphs, found thy endless praise! 
Unchang'd shall be—and still shalt pow'r retain, 
To soothe man's sorrows in this world's domain! 
Oh! if a pray'r can influence thy will! 
Thy blessings, on my lov'd—and friends instil! 
Oh view with mercy ev'ry finite woe! 
And shield the good, from ev'ry mundane foe! 
Direct man's heart, and cause his wish to be, 
The greatest pleasure—that of serving thee!
May all his hopes, and wants, to thee—aspire! 
Nor earthly love, or joys, sway his desire!
That when his mortal brief career is o'er, 
When human sorrows wound his sense no more; 
The fickle wav'rings of life's time safe past 
His home may be in peace, with thee at last. 
Cou'd I, in speaking what ATTEMPT has done 
Say, when the blissful Goddess has been won; 
Or if I cou'd with certainty impart, 
Some cheering rules of prophylactic art
E2 Sure




28 
Sure as that rock, on which fact firmly lays, 
Where knowledge ought to fix its solid base, 
Delight shou'd raise on soaring wings its voice, 
And in the praise of verity rejoice. 
But still in doubt is admonition plac'd, 
Small are the limits by cognition trac'd. 
Though man with prying, and enquiring lore, 
Has ransack'd nature's vast and wondrous store. 
Of products diverse, that combine in earth, 
To which the mine's recesses deep give birth. 
Or are within the fountain's wave dissolv'd, 
Or in the vegetable's form involv'd. 
Or those appropriate, by judgment us'd,
From animal condition fitly chus'd. 
Powers that chemic acts appreciate, 
Or that in gas'ous fluid circulate. 
All in contention with the morbid cause, 
Have each receiv'd their tribute of applause. 
Whate'er dogmatic' principles have rais'd, 
Or vain empiric's oftentation prais'd; 
All that illusive prejudice could teach, 
As diff'rent systems diff'rent precepts preach. 
What to the frail, or too believing heart, 
Cou'd cunning, or ambition's boasts impart. 
But




29 
But 'tis what candour's claims bid me instill, 
The little effects of Pœonians skill. 
Though some their vaunted quackery dispense, 
To thwart the innate potent influence. 
That mortal mischief's deeply latent sway, 
Indefinite—that speeds it's haughty way, 
And with the tendent system seems to live, 
And it's possessor to it's willings give; 
That Æsculapian regimen disdains, 
And uncontroul'd o'er art and science reigns. 
Such now I found not with specific name, 
Their frauds shou'd die like as their groundless same, 
Who vow a remedy secure they grasp, 
And yet the evil slits—the healing clasp. 
The malady exempt from it's arrest,
Bold in defiance, walks on unsuppress'd.
Or Proteus' like—their vigilance eludes, 
And still it's dangers on the frame intrudes. 
Their modes do not anxiety erase, 
Their promises expectancy debase. 
List'ning attention little would it cheer, 
The pompous measures of their rules to hear. 
Poor the reward that wou'd the hope repay, 
Or wou'd requite the archieving thoughts essay. 
Let









30 
Let such advent'rers who their Ægis wield 
You, from the enemy attempt to shield, 
If credulous, you yield to such desire, 
As ign'rance, and imposture wou'd inspire. 
Let them in prowess feeble try, their arm 
To skreen the danger of a just alarm. 
Bring you—their medic's potions much caress'd, 
And prove their power in the strong contest. 
For such—I of a victor's wreath berest, 
The tales of many prosp'rous cures have left. 
But much I fear the fallacy you trust, 
Will fink deceptive to the humble dust. 
An abject conquest in the proud defeat. 
Of that—whence conquer'd multitudes retreat. 
“ The monster follows, and it's force impels, 
“ Whose strength—the strength of mortal man excels 
For not to human knowledge yet bestow'd,
Has heav'n that precious certainty allow'd. 
When art and science, shall that gift receive, 
Which shall our dread from Phthisic force relieve. 
The mind of study labours in that train, 
With many wishes waits the blissful gain:
Led




31 
Led on by hope—sweet tempter to those deeds, 
By which industry in its aims succeeds. 
Thou solace of our efforts! yet conceal'd, 
Arise and be thy mysteries reveal'd! 
Sweet refuge come!—and dissipate our fears. 
And give to worth and beauty, lengthen'd years! 
He who shall dissipate by certain deed, 
The strength of doubt—be his the endless need! 
Of admiration—praises that unfade! 
In thankful rapture by mankind repaid. 
Whom parents, husbands, brothers, friends shall bless, 
And universal reverence caress. 
Smil'd on by these—whose smiles cannot alloy, 
That sex—whose smiles in virtue gives true joy. 
Whose approbation as real pleasure shines. 
And the delights of recompence combines. 
His happy fortune hence shall millions save, 
And close a path that leads but to the grave. 
Who shall the tabid host of hills defy 
And days of future happiness supply. 
Content unfulli'd shall his life here greet, 
And conscious good his actions ever meet. 
Full

32 
Full satisfaction gild his well earn'd fame. 
And ages speak with gratitude his name. 
Dear gratitude! e'er lov'd, whose angel smiles, 
The toils of labour by thy gifts beguiles. 
Thou gen'rous passion of the noble mind! 
The soul's confession of each impulse kind! 
Thy sacred fire shall enmity consume, 
And the fair offices of love illume. 
Thy light heel'd footsteps on the earth rebound, 
With sprightly fancies is thy forehead crown'd. 
The laughing joys upon thy features play, 
And honest ease attends thy jocund day; 
When hast'ning to discharge thy prompting heart, 
And all the duties that thy cares impart. 
Fatigue ne'er damps thy recompense design'd, 
Nor hardships e'er impede thy willing mind. 
Unweari'd thy benevolence fulfils, 
The dispensations which regard instils. 
O gratitude! how much on thee depends!
Far the embrace of thy vast arm extends. 
May from me never be thy charms effac'd!
Or be my heart with sordidness debas'd!
Thy




33 
Thy flame let e'er my sentient bosom fill, 
Nor selfish int'rest interrupt thy will! 
Thou art from man to man, a constant due, 
But more to him—our love, should thee renew; 
Whose lasting bounty ev'ry blessing gives, 
And all the wants of finite need relieves. 
Omnipotence!—who can each act controul, 
Requires th'avowals grateful of the soul; 
Shall man, of all creation's work, dispense 
Thy boon the least, or shrink from thy defence? 
Thee shunning—in dull apathy repose, 
Thy excellence—forgotten—not disclose? 
Regardless of those lessons from above, 
Which fellowship and social mode approve. 
Yes—often him—a mean indiff'rence guides, 
And thanklessness o'er his base heart presides. 
Too often so—and what can more debase 
The vaunted excellence of human race? 
Less so—than savage forms, whose gentle heed 
Reveres the hand whose bounty shall him feed; 
Less faithful than the dog, whose love ne'er swerves 
From him, whose due supplies his life preserves. 
They who thy proper energy possess 
A train of other virtues shall caress, 
F Shall



34
Shall know what honour—honesty import, 
And what the laws of justice most support. 
Friendship for him, shall each reward essay, 
And mild indulgence his request repay. 
Aids copious, shall charity allow, 
And blessings mingled with it's streams shall flow; 
So shall delight extensively be shed, 
And happiness throughout the world be spread. 
Each corrupt passion soon the soul deludes, 
When on the heart ingratitude intrudes; 
Whose gorgon-looks each finer feeling flies, 
And all the soft affections petrifies. 
To ev'ry vice it ope's a ready way. 
Where turpitude and secund evils prey. 
Is not the mind—which benefit receives, 
And barren ne'er a benefaction gives, 
When not a word the consciousness purveys, 
Or look oblig'd—the frigid sense displays, 
But fullenly from rectitude recedes, 
Inimical to virtue—and it's deeds? 
Like him, whose malice wou'd requital shun, 
Because they hate him—who the deed has done.
Such




35 
Such may society with blame eject, 
Nor more their wants attentively protect. 
When the mild showers of all-fav'ring Heaven, 
To the parch'd earth with gen'rous good is given. 
The sated soil alleviated seems, 
And verdant with acknowledgements it teems; 
The drooped plants increased vigor raise, 
And in their beauties shines their Maker's praise: 
It's varied bloom each flower then renews, 
Inspiring gladness over cheered views; 
Awaking hope, that culture of regard, 
Shall with rich fruit the soft'ring hand reward. 
For such beneficence let man employ 
His utmost laud to speak his grateful joy; 
For ev'ry good may long his altars burn, 
And ceaseless tokens speak his heart's return. 
Again, that path now claims our footsteps' care, 
Where prophylaxis sought we declare, 
No remedy specific we detail, 
No charm ador'd in superstition's veil, 
Nor legendary rules, by ancients told, 
Of sure prevention seek we to unfold. 
Rest





36
Rest ye enshrin'd, by us no more thence led, 
Like as your makers, peaceful, midst the dead. 
Devoid of such, few maxims compensate. 
Such as experience would inculcate; 
Such as a minister with wary eye 
Observes, and dares with caution to apply; 
Who practis'd rightly in fair nature's schools, 
Adopts with reason, just and simple rules. 
List, and believe, I know no other aim, 
Whose counsels, Hope can salutary name;
That can the lapse to tendent ill prevent; 
For you, by well-mark'd disposition bent. 
Ye whose frail frames pulmonic ills receive. 
Drooping beneath the skies of Britain live; 
Forewarned be, what risk here intervenes,
And is united with our fickle scenes; 
The atmosphere's cold, hot, or dank abode, 
Now dry, serene, or in a rainy mode; 
For ever hov'ring on mutation's wings, 
That pains and dangers to your system brings. 
Soon, if you can, fly from such perturb'd state 
Of elements, that woo you to your fate. 
Inimical

37 
Inimical to all but those who share 
A healthful vigor that defies e'en care; 
Yet even vigor rests not here secure, 
Nor safety can from danger's shafts ensure. 
Let the wide canopy of cloudless skies 
Witness your time in kinder safety rise! 
Where mildness, as on gallic lawns prevails, 
The days continued temp'rate joys entails. 
Or live beneath Olympus' dome serene, 
Where long reigns brightness, with th'Italian scene. 
Or Ulyssippo's smiles may woo your mind, 
And mark your hours to tranquil ease resign'd: 
Or far from home, where vast Atlantic roars, 
Happy remain ye on Madeira's shores. 
Ere the disease is ripen'd in the frame, 
Or bodes the symptoms of the Phthisic fame, 
Left be your winters on your native isle, 
For climes whose sway to gentle sense beguile. 
Oft' o'er the billows of th' extended main, 
Let the fleet vessel long your course sustain. 
Where'er advantage prompts a varied range, 
And use and pleasure bids the will to change. 
So


38 
So spoke the precepts of the Roman sage,
In diction purest of th' Augustan age, 
Bidding restraint not on the mind intrude, 
With cares and burdens of solicitude.* 
But if by some untoward fate condemn'd 
To linger here, amidst the sea's girth hemm'd;
Let the whose frame the vestiment sustain, 
From the warm raiment of the fleecy train. 
By Heav'n's indulgence well bestowed here, 
To shield the habitants of this rude sphere. 
Thus constant summer keep o'er all your frame. 
Nor e'er let rashness your mutation blame. 
Ne'er let the skin's due efflux be suppress'd. 
To injure thus the sympathizing chest. 
Nor let a gay seducing solar smile. 
Which 'luring, wantons only to beguile, 
That transiently darts from the cloudy bounds, 
And often but the gelid storm surrounds;
Urge you, whilst with its fleeting gleam you stay, 
Or tempt you then your caution to betray. 
* Celsus. L. III. Cap. 22.
Disrobe 

39 
Disrobe not then, enticed by false zeal, 
The precious mantle of corporeal weal. 
No change—no time—no season ever sway, 
Shall through the year derange your custom'd way. 
So may you by each rule which care supplies, 
In dietetic heed, and exercise. 
That with excess ne'er wildly deviates, 
Nor for the frugal senses pain creates; 
Long hope your health serenely on may flow, 
And many years of ease and safety know. 
The vagrant mind, for ye! who cannot roam, 
Or leave for other lands your much lov'd home, 
Might here for you, its tutelage display, 
And o'er this soil in views far stretched stray. 
Might, as it wanders o'er your native bow'rs, 
Of observation—cull the choicest flow'rs; 
To form a code your memory to greet, 
Where safest now, to find a wish'd retreat. 
But midst the maze of doubt I travel here, 
Where every step impresses further fear. 
Thy ripen'd mind,—Experience! no guide, 
Not o'er the thoughts, expansion, does preside.
Nor

40 
Nor hoary oracle of Wisdom's voice, 
Or Judgment's finger point out prudent choice. 
But by thy light, Philosophy! here led, 
With some small confidence we onward tread; 
And to thy temple introduce the fair, 
The proper object of the muse's care. 
Where thy devoted priest those laws unfolds, 
Which he who studies Nature's works beholds. 
Vers'd in those principles, which long unknown 
The volant breezes of this orbit own. 
Whose proper skill, by the hermetic art, 
Can to its use adapt each simple part. 
Whether the vital tide to animate, 
Or move its native fervor to abate. 
He teaches thus the florid to avoid 
An atmosphere with ruin strong alloy'd, 
Forbids those votaries to breath the gales, 
Where full excitement with each zephyr sails. 
Tells such to seek those haunts, where less declar'd 
That subtle sway, by mixture is impair'd: 
Where more azotic element disclos'd, 
Is with carbonic principle compos'd; 
Which tempers thus the stimulating force, 
And moderates the crimson'd tides full course. 
Chiefly 

41 
Chiefly ye, whom, that frequent ill afflicts, 
And by its signals, danger's touch, predicts. 
If the pulmonic structure finely trac'd, 
Has malady tuberculous embrac'd; 
A cause too often 'gainst the health oppos'd, 
And but to nice attention soon disclos'd: 
That thwarts too often amicable aids, 
And all the benefit of cure evades. 
Disposing pow'r, of periculous state, 
That drifts the body to its wayward fate. 
Seek ye Apollo's sons, their help engage. 
With early deed your symptoms to assuage. 
If happily those manners may avail, 
Which reason flatters hope—may health entail. 
Learn ye! whom causes such initiate, 
To know your hazard—and avoid your fate. 
Let not confinement with depressing pain, 
You—pris'ner through the ling'ring hours detain. 
To breathe the ill, that morbid frame retails, 
Whose health beneath the Phthisic lungs quick sails. 
Not as a foe to charity's kind hands. 
Or to the cares which tenderness demands, 
G Would








42
Would I that watchful kindred boon impede; 
Which nurtures sickness with each willing heed. 
But ah! a willy something surely preys 
Upon that health which caution disobeys; 
Who long exposed in those domes but live; 
And but a noisome tainted air receive, 
Where constant reigns each sway which can depress, 
And lead you to debility's distress 
Each evidence of risk, apprized shun, 
And stem the deed e'er yet it is begun. 
Fear—when a cough attacks—take just alarm! 
Though scarcely boding to your thought a harm. 
Should it oppose your breathings to the skies, 
When with the morn your due oraisons arise; 
Though yet no other symptoms have oppress'd, 
Or seem the wonted vigour to arrest. 
Those may by time's advancement be increas'd, 
And weave those bonds which cannot he releas'd. 
Should crescive agitations—hence enlarge, 
And from the lungs the spumous flux discharge. 
If this—and more—with steady pace succeed, 
And injur'd respiration more impede: 
If in those acts, which others freely trace. 
Your willing footsteps dare not speed embrace. 
Let










43 
Let not your minds incredulous neglect 
That prophylaxis, which may health protect. 
For on a precipice your good impends, 
And frail the guard is that your life defends. 
If with your days—debility and pain, 
A cough—with shorten'd respiration's bane, 
Grow, and its darts still meet you in each track, 
To speed your ruin—by its sure attack; 
Forfake the road now—where your paces lead; 
Nor dare continue with such risks to tread. 
Or soon will greater mischiefs be impos'd, 
And all their tendent principles disclos'd. 
If the chest speaks gravidity of sense, 
And unbemoan'd, cannot distress dispense; 
If all its acts, constricted feeling share, 
Support impoverish'd—of respir'd fare. 
Then may you dread—what time may soon fulfil, 
The dire effects of uncontrouled ill.
Whilst some in health—stretch'd on the nightly bed 
In easy frame to sleepful realms are fled; 
No inward pang the leaden god defies:
In whate'er form the inclination tries. 
You,




44 
You, vainly, may attempt th' incumbed side, 
That stirs a cough—arraigns the breathing tide: 
Forbidding liberty's diffuse desire, 
That would in ease the streams of life inspire. 
With these continu'd—if the febrile sway 
Closes the labours of the parted day. 
If unopposed in their morbid bent, 
Such potent symptoms spread their wild extent; 
Soon will the looks—the breath—the pulse declare 
What evils now the frame is doom'd to share. 
Whisp'ring around th' approaching hectic cause, 
Quick on the corpse with crescive power draws. 
Assume—ye, whom th' hoemoptic system wield, 
Whate'er your frail predicament can wield: 
Who to the Phthisic lineage a-kin, 
Derive a frail-and heired origin. 
Ye, whose denoting form—and signal face,* 
Import th' expression of a feeble race: 
* See page. Part I. 
Ad tabem properat, Phthisico de stemmate natus; 
Cui sæpe ad pectus, phlegmata salsa cadunt, 
Let




45 
Let prudent thought, and caution's care avoid 
Each risk, by which your health may be destroy'd. 
Let nought debility's effects proclaim,
Or local stimulus derange the frame. 
Chiefly, ne'er suffer motives to oppress, 
Which e'er may add to your dispos'd distress: 
Let nought arouse the blood's or nervous force,
Or lead your strength beyond a placid course. 
Let no fierce passion e'er the mind incite, 
Nor e'er indulge in anger's potent might. 
Let temperance o'er all your ways preside. 
Nor any outrage let your actions guide. 
So may you learn to find that happy mean, 
Which bids no evil on your joys advene. 
But if excess e'er leads your ardent will, 
Expect disease your pleasures soon may kill. 
Qui faciem hebraei, maciemque figurat avari: 
Cui vox augusto pectore rauca sonat. 
Qui gerit oblongum, velut alta ciconia collum; 
Cui, velut ala aquilæ, prominet os scapulæ, 
Nescis, cur Phthisico natura annexerit alas? 
Debet ad ignotas, nox volitare plagas. 
L. III. S. III. 
Nova et vetus Aphorismorum Hippocrates Interpretatio 
a Joanne Franc. Leone ab Erlsfeldt. 
The




46 
The sober rules of wisdom ne'er despise, 
Nor only let experience make you wise. 
Experience, sage tutor of the thought! 
Though oft, alas! by youth too dearly bought. 
In youth be cautious—and you may fulfil 
Those deeds—to gain which—I these rules instil, 



GENERAL ANALYSIS 
OF PART THE 
THIRD. 
The stealthy attack of Phthisis—the little alarm it 
gives to the mind of the afflicted—though affecting vital 
organs—yet they are not very susceptible of pain—hence 
the little suffering of the consumptive, comparatively with 
that of others attacked in other parts, by disease, not of 
so fatal a tendency—its danger to the body is greater 
than its dolent impression on the mind—its tardy progress 
opposed to other cases rapidly destructive of mortality.— 
Depressing passions of the mind hurtful to those Phthisi— 
cally disposed.—The felicity of hopeful Love, contrasted 
with disappointment and despair.—The attempts to ob- 
tain consolation ineffectual—simile from nature—grateful 
powers of requited affection.—The endeavours of blame 
and opposition often misapplied, in attempting to counter- 
act the impressions of the passion.—Its arbitrary sway.—
An amiable and suffering character delineated.—Her state 
claims sympathy.—Interlocution to a tear.—Hope, a con-
ductor




[48]
ductor frustrated in its confidence.—Mutation of pleasures 
formerly experienced.—Products of unfaithfulness.—
Defalcation of the heart—due penal consequences.—Con— 
scientious affliction.—Misfortune of an affectionate mind, 
to experience the decayed attachment of the object of its 
regard.—Supplication for divine auxiliance and inter- 
ference.—Figurative contemplation of expectation.— 
Powers of Love under delusive hope.—Different views 
of Disappointment—that of frustrating pleasurable wishes 
and dreaded evils—it often gives the real knowledge of 
things, and brings conviction to the obscured and deluded 
mind.—Continuance of the effects of the disappointed 
pasion on the body and mind.—Consolation administered 
to a character.—Distress of mind from the sympathy of 
this and the body, destructive of health and effecting 
decay.—An instance of this alluded to, and a request to 
sacrifice to the manes of female friendship.—A descrip- 
tive Elegy. 
PHTHISIOLOGIA.




PHTHISIOLOGIA. 
PART III. 
WITH wily mode that lulls suspicion's voice. 
Enchain'd thou lead'st—unwary oft thy choice. 
Like the trine monsters of Tyrrhenas' main, 
Which to destruction lure with guilesome strain. 
For ye! by Phthisis once attack'd, sojourn 
Not painfully—though flow, ye seek death's bourn. 
Though warn'd, ye live—unfearfully ye fall,
Whom, unalarm'd, decaying lungs inthral. 
For you the Deity, whose friendly will 
Permits the office of each good and ill, 
H Bade

50 
Bade with light hand, disease its deed commence;
And slightly press its stings on mortal sense. 
Little thy powers—or thy tristful bane, 
Molest the feelings—acrid poignant pain! 
Acutely not—as when thy cruel laws, 
With pangs ineffable the mind o'er—awes. 
Did danger, but commensurate, arrest 
The frame—as pain, upon the nerves imprest.
Happy were many now!—and happy here, 
Had many liv'd estrang'd to grief and fear. 
Unlike some maladies, which parts invade, 
Foes not to life—yet sad with tortures made. 
But thou, my theme! with nobler organs wars, 
And life with gentler, yet sure force debars. 
Not, as soon fades athletic health's high boast, 
Yet ere few days, on India's shore a ghost. 
Where numbers left, beyond the billow'd deep. 
Thy prey, dire Fever! may Europa weep. 
Not like the son of Jove—ere strength decays, 
By sudden conflict—doom'd to end thy days. 
His anguish'd suff'rings, conquer'd life's desire, 
And plac'd him victim on Oëta's fire. 
Whilst speak those signs, which rightly indicate
The warning tendency we contemplate. 

51
In such, how oft the mournful eye hath seen, 
A case distressful act with powers keen:
A subtle woe, insidiously dress'd, 
By the pure heart of innocence cares'd. 
Acting too potently with sad effect, 
Whilst youth conducts the tender intellect. 
When nice susception, every feeling trains, 
And long, with conscious sense, each print remains. 
Often no more, to be by care thence lav'd, 
Indelibly too deeply there engrav'd. 
On you! ye souls! decoy'd to long distress, 
To love, and oft, frustrated happiness. 
Sweetly with her the light-wing'd moments flew, 
When first in love a blithsome hope she knew: 
No doubt, nor fear, her youthful heart possess'd, 
Nor sorrow broke upon her balmy rest. 
Charming in smiles of fortune and health's bloom, 
Her joys ne'er dream'd of future ills to come. 
Aurora's face for her rose fresh and fair, 
And flow'rs for her perfum'd the sun-beam'd air. 
But ere her life had reach'd meridian hour, 
A gath'ring storm drench'd on her head its pow'r; 
Relentless

52 
Relentless burst—and swiftly henceforth gave
To expectation's bliss an early grave; 
And left her love-lorn and despairing breast, 
With pining care and disappointment press'd. 
So may the morn that's gilt with lucid ray, 
Weep in its show'rs ere ripen'd into day. 
No more the sprightly look her spirits boast, 
The hope and anchor of her soul is lost. 
In vain  she seeks the path of ease serene, 
To cheer her life—or some sequester'd scene, 
Where calm'd, the pensive heart's sad dreary way, 
May with enjoyment—thorny pain allay. 
So, when the zephyr's gently moving breeze, 
Whispers amidst the vale's light tufted trees, 
In airy smiles, which nature's charm restore; 
How soon the phantom—sway is heard no more! 
Quick rise those blasts, which fierce the forest tear,
As in the rueful cadence of the year. 
Destructive to the leafy honour's pride, 
In volant sweep o'er nature they preside. 
While bursting clouds pour forth their liquid wave, 
And foaming down the rocks the torrents lave. 
To

53 
To grief's dire passion and corrosive smart, 
Obscures all pleasures from th' afflicted heart. 
More keenly than the storm's rude hostile hand, 
Dismantles beauties of the peaceful land. 
But love's benignant sweets the soul can free, 
And loose the captive from all misery. 
“ Can aid the hero—bid ambition rise,”
And bear the mind beyond all mortal ties. 
Like as Favonius, to nature dear. 
The fainting pilgrim's calid paths can cheer. 
The languid faculty, and cautious age, 
In vain opponent words with love may wage; 
May tell what maxims youthful minds should guide, 
What prudent foresight o'er their deeds preside: 
May blame austerely the admitted guest, 
Which preys upon the passion's tranquil rest:
Which ev'ry former quietude assails, 
And over judgement speciously prevails. 
With wily aspect wilfully allures, 
Yet no companion in the breast endures. 
“ A truth which many but too late can hear! 
“ A certain truth, which many buy too dear! 
By


54 
By thee once charm'd, all else a charm has lost, 
The heart thy seat, thy unsuspecting host. 
Persuasive guidance! deified name! 
I not thy pow'r—or sad misfortunes blame: 
Though transiently—I some effects relate. 
Which minds more able might delineate. 
But first, may I a destin'd tale pursue? 
Which now approaches to the mem'ry's view. 
For, till old time each mundane act shall raze, 
Virtue, like Stella's, shall be nam'd with praise! 
Whose constant wish with gen'ral good o'erflows, 
And round its sphere each friendly boon bestows. 
Exults to see where social bliss accords, 
Enjoys, to give what happiness affords. 
Relieves that state whose prosperous weal is fled. 
And bounteousty supports the drooping head. 
When wants invade—and others shun the door 
Of those whose only blame is to be poor. 
Or health the cot of penury forsakes, 
It's lacking then her gen'rous aid partakes, 
Yet ah, for Stella! little pleasure lives, 
She needs that peace—she oft to others gives. 
Though

55
Though bless'd with worth as malice e'en allows, 
And Heav'n itself with approbation knows. 
But as thy hosts, oh Sorrow, on earth roam! 
They press'd their force on her devoted doom. 
Long without joy—or consolation kind, 
Has dark suspense o'erhung her tortur'd mind. 
Fainting beneath accumulated pain, 
From love dishonour'd—flighted with disdain. 
Let her sad hours before the mind appear! 
Depress'd by anguish—and each galling fear! 
Ye, who compassion's ductile heart sustain! 
To whom—like her—distress ne'er spoke in vain; 
At Stella's fate the human sigh shall move, 
And list'ning sorrow give her pity's love. 
For her, the tear's oblation not arrest! 
For her, whom many pangs have long oppress'd.
The Tear, soft stream,—by Heav'n first design'd, 
To indicate the feelings of the mind! 
Thou glist'ning pendent, of the madid eye! 
Companion of the thought—expiring sigh! 
What varied causes give thy being place? 
How multiplied on the mortal race!
Spring

56 
Sprung from misfortune's vast immensity
Of forms—or livest with infirmity. 
Or from the impulse of nice tenderness, 
Art child of feeling—for unhappiness. 
To thee! the parting lover's soul may say! 
When absence bids him follow her lone way. 
Go from thy source, and seek ray loved's heart,
And there impress what lovers feel who part. 
To her, for me, a tenderness convey, 
Or all I think—or language would display. 
But if she knows not—what is much my care, 
Here rest with me, till solv'd in passing air. 
The years of youth, which first her love disclos'd, 
Guided by hope upon its arm repos'd: 
Was led to where each pain with life combin'd. 
Should mitigation and assistance find. 
But thence, alas! sprung forth the blasts of spoil, 
Which peace obscure, and all its wishes soil, 
Thence issued disregard, unjust mischief, 
Taunting despite, and each heart-piercing grief. 
Since with affection, flew each happy day, 
When faults not satisfaction could allay, 
Pleasures,


61
Pleasures are for despondent sorrows chang'd, 
And time advances with each sweet derang'd: 
Those hours that were—for ever now are fled, 
And cruelty for tenderness is shed. 
So life lags on, scarce separate from death. 
And rightly asks it with a willing breath. 
Of faithless love, the offspring is disdain. 
The fount of tortures to a lover's pain. 
Malice and frigid looks, affection's foes, 
Combine to introduce a host of woes; 
On innocence—the prey of base deceit; 
And all that hatred, can for love repeat. 
These the sad wreck of promises betroth'd, 
Her, once gay hours, with misery have cloth'd. 
Could he, who first her youthful bosom fir'd,
With equal fervor could he be inspir'd?— 
No—not with him—could one true motive grow, 
As she with constant heart was born to know.
Or, if he felt affection's ties impress'd. 
Or aught sincere attached to his breast, 
He quitted these—prescrib'd her wretched doom,
When reason, quell'd by error, was o'ercome. 
I O Miscreant!


62 
O Miscreant! oppressed by despair, 
What can, appropriate, thy pains impair! 
If such thou know'st! 'tis just thou should'st complain 
Of cheerless passions—in heart—rending strain; 
“ Whilst ev'ry pow'r of life and appetite, 
“ Dissolves in languor—lost to real delight. 
“ Till sinful knowledge, reparation give; 
Justice appeas'd—or mercy thence relieve. 
If e'er reflection judgement shall illume, 
And presidency, conscience e'er assume; 
Horrific be its strength—on wounded thought: 
And with conviction's fulgid spirit fraught. 
On him who Stella's boundless favours bless'd, 
By him in dull ingratitude possess'd. 
Ill-omen'd fate! dire inauspicious day!
That knows a waning joy's complete decay. 
Unprosp'rous moment! for a soul refin'd, 
To feel the injury of deeds unkind. 
Pitied be such! whose ever—faithful care, 
Or love—lorn beauties thankless man should share. 
Such

63
Such ills—her charms—oh let not long deject! 
Thou that canst purity in bliss protect! 
Thou that canst o'er the conscious mind instil!
Thofe gifts that screen a suff'rer from all ill! 
What though insult with frigid temper shrouds 
Her joys—thy arm shall dissipate those clouds! 
Shall give the unrepining victim peace, 
And fix her heart serene in lasting ease. 
Shall raise true friends—and long their lives prolong, 
To aid the wife's, and soothe the children's wrong. 
Felicity! forsake not thou that heart, 
That seeks thy bliss to others to impart! 
How distant, Expectation, are thy bounds! 
Vast the extension that the realms surrounds!
Limits, which knowledge never can advene, 
Which yet explored—no human eye has seen. 
When led by thee, outstretch'd, the thought diffuse 
An endless region of delight can chuse. 
As when the am'rous passion once impress'd, 
Dwells on those sweets attainment ne'er possess'd. 
It rivets all the soul to one intent, 
And plastic sways it to its secret bent; 
Then

64
Then wounds it lastly—never to be heal'd, 
Ere yet the barbed weapon is reveal'd. 
If disappointment, with its aspic sting, 
Its pangs inclement to the senses bring. 
Oh, Disappointment! harsh, and rigid law!
Whose punishments upon the vitals gnaw. 
Thou stern assailant!—with misfortune's knell, 
Canst gelid horror, on the thought impel. 
Is it from realms unknown, of silent death, 
Thou being draw'st—and sendest forth thy breath? 
For so thy powr to expectation seems, 
When thy refusal, on hope's wishes teems. 
Twin—form'd on earth, thy attributes appear, 
To kill those hopes—or quash the mental fear. 
Thus—like an angel's aid—thy deed supplies 
That bliss—which doubt, and dimm'd suspense, denies, 
When dissipating ev'ry dread portent, 
Thou changest chance, to certainty's event. 
So bidding danger from its post be led, 
And joyous life o'er misery be spread. 
A gift of Heaven—then, thy weal is fam'd, 
And thy annulling sway with praise is nam'd. 
Naked

65
Naked to view—thou bring'st illusions veil'd, 
Which long from certainty remain'd conceal'd. 
Then vision'd pleasure, like a phantom flies. 
And wrecked hope, a wretched suff'rer dies. 
A victim to the arms of torture hurl'd, 
Unbless'd and cheerless, wais'd to all the world. 
Without a succour from the rankling dart 
That in reflection penetrates the heart. 
Now pining Anguish with its train of ills, 
Dull melancholy, and despair instils. 
Blighting with freezing breath, each sprightly source, 
Which gives to energy its vital force. 
All active spirits fly—all joys decay, 
Dejected fancy—wither'd, dies away. 
The languid health defencelessly expos'd, 
By caustic woe is harrass'd and inclos'd. 
Feebly oppos'd to foes—which thus invade. 
Is the too wretched and the guiltless maid. 
By multiplied, secret pangs entwin'd, 
How chang'd, alas! in body and in mind! 
Prostrate, yet breathing with unsullied fame. 
And lost to all but patient virtue's name.
Drifted



66 
Drifted, thus unresisting, on a rock, 
A weak existent in misfortune's flock. 
Whose voice would praise with gratitude that Pow'r, 
That soon announc'd her last approached hour. 
A life, of all its merits here how wrong'd!
A life, but by Omnipotence prolong'd: 
A life, that cannot worldly heed caress
A suff'rer, worthy of more happiness. 
Child, not of hope! or of alluring wealth! 
Of pleasure or of rosy visag'd health! 
Low is thy dwelling—and obscure thy name, 
Stranger alike to flattery and same, 
A peaceful conscience, and contentment's mind, 
Shall thee prepare to die—or live resign'd. 
These shall be thine—shall check the lengthen'd sigh, 
And dry the tear that fills the sadden'd eye. 
The joys that duty has to love deny'd, 
May be by friendship's willing hand suppli'd. 
Who—when reposed on the faithful breast, 
Shall guard thy days—and strive to give thee rest. 
'Till thy last hour—thy due reward shall bring 
A sadeless summer, and eternal spring. 
But

67 
But now the deep—struck bane, the strength degrades, 
Then all th' accordant sympathies pervades; 
The native beauties of the form alloys, 
And ev'ry aid reciprocal destroys, 
Which health of mind with health of body gives, 
In that compact where sanity but lives. 
That now devoted—no more this can shield 
Both thus dispos'd—to morbid powers yield; 
To each attack—approximate, this bows, 
And passive all the mental cause allows. 
Thus life but with a dying lustre shines, 
Its languent strength—“ with wasting sorrow pines; 
“ Like fleecy snow, that in the warmth of day, 
“ In heaps dissolves before the solar ray.” 
From such a cause, will patience ear refuse, 
Whilst I again in lines elegiac muse? 
And seek remembrance of her, to redeem
Who swells the numbers, in the hectic theme. 
A virgin-conquest of the Phthisic foe, 
The prey of love, and love's attendant woe. 
O may th' attempt in language meet arise! 
And not a sentient mind the lay despise!
Nor




68 
Nor you, my friends, whose fellowship accords 
With her's, whose wishes claim the tristful words! 
Clara's regard 'tis, makes the strong request, 
For her—deplored—gone to saintful rest. 
Whose weary spirit—seeking endless day, 
Where sorrows shall find rest—has wing'd its way. 
DESCRIPTIVE

DESCRIPTIVE 
ELEGY. 
WHENCE is this found—lugubrious plaint, that steals 
Upon my ear—and awfully assails 
The mind—as when a midnight breeze reveals, 
Fear striking tones to thought—on vagrant gales? 
That murm'ring through each solitary place, 
Detrusive flies—amidst the dark recess, 
With vari'd progress, o'er the dreary space; 
Now languid—or now sonant of distress. 
K As

70
As through the cell, or vaulted ill it bounds, 
The castle's roof—or moss—clad wasting walls 
Of ancient solitude—whence solemn sounds, 
In notes are heard that gaiety appals. 
Or passing through the antique fabled yew, 
That slowly in the silent church—yard waves; 
And shades each tomb—our destinies renew, 
The old companion of the mould'ring graves. 
Is it a breath—that has some woe embrac'd, 
And bears some story from the tristful grove; 
Of sadden'd Cyprus—on the list'ning trac'd; 
Dolent with sighs of melancholic love? 
Truly—and seeks, a painful task to tell, 
As passed lately o'er Eliza's tomb; 
And brings her farewell—speaks the echo'd knell, 
Of rights funereal of her youthful doom. 
Here rest thy message—and thy destin'd care, 
Nor bear such sorrow to my Clara's mind; 
And you—her friends! nor yet the tale declare, 
Spare, and shield off, each word with woe combin'd! 
Beware

71
Beware—to raise her pain! whose thoughts vibrate 
In pity's cause—or each affecting scene;
I dread the conflict—and commiserate 
The anguish sudden—which shall supervene. 
Yet—tenderly, the dol'rous shock conceal. 
For well I know how were their hearts entwin'd 
In bonds of amity—let time reveal! 
The sad recital—with each pain combin'd! 
The loss to her, redoubly shall disclose 
Each ingrate sense—which parted friendship knows; 
Shall pierce each essay, of a wish'd repose, 
And wreck the peace her present hope avows. 
From infant years their true regard I view, 
When each the other vested with her thought;
Such as young fancy undisguised knew, 
And all the fire of pure affection taught. 
Increasing time, still aided their esteem, 
With all the kind associates of the breast; 
No cold reserve could apathy there teem; 
Nor insincerity their thoughts invest.
How

72 
How shall thy spirit, Clara! hear the words, 
Or view this relic of Eliza's frame! 
The ringlet, deck'd as sacred care affords; 
A wreath, in mem'ry of her hallow'd name!
I would, from thee! e'er hide the mournful strain, 
But vainly its recital I repel;
The voice of fame, no longer will refrain, 
It ever hastes too soon our pains to tell. 
Too soon, alas! the whisper'd truth arrives, 
Which like the blow of fate dissolves the breath.
Its harsh assault, her present grief deprives, 
She sinks—oblivious—in a semblant death. 
The eyes, now motionless, their lustre lose, 
Cold—spiritless—the limbs extended lay; 
And from the cheeks quick flies the tinging rose; 
The vital stream foregoes its course to play. 
Then on a flipp'ry and unstable verge, 
Life feebly held—a parting seem'd to crave; 
The floating spirits—tendent deathward urge, 
To wing their way to Lethe's silent wave. 
Inert


73
Inert seems friendship's art, and willing balm, 
To stem the powers of the potent grief; 
Whilst pity vainly seeks the gusts to calm, 
For, ah! the feelings shrink from its relief. 
Oft' from its dormant state the brain awakes. 
Weak utt'rance only speaks the tortur'd mind, 
In abrupt sighs—(convuls'd each part partakes) 
And murmurs mingled of death's deed unkind. 
In gusts of tears th' impelled powers rouz'd, 
Excite th' insensible frame from dormant shades; 
Where, had the faculties awhile repos'd: 
And life through each meand'ring way pervades. 
Yet still reflection triftfully remains, 
The lernan ill, firm to the wound adheres; 
With all its monstrous hydra headed pains; 
An shatter'd strength dejectedly appears. 
Now in suspirious state the senses haste, 
To view the actions of the passed years; 
When youth its joys, did unalloy'd taste: 
Nor thought knew sorrow—or a shade of fears. 
With


74
With languid voice—thus Clara's words retrace 
Pass'd absent bliss—'Ye dear delights adieu! 
' Which all my future days shall not deface; 
' Ye sweets farewell! I with Eliza knew! 
' Lead me, oh memory! to Ebora's plains, 
' Where first our son of amity arose;
' Its pure impressions, still this heart retains; 
' Though death has fix'd it by thy last repose. 
' Thy wit, good—humour, and thy lively ease, 
' And all thy mental charms I much rever'd; 
' Form'd with each social grace, and gift to please; 
' Thy heart to me of spotless hue appear'd. 
' Oft' when thou didst the tyrant pain disclose, 
' Afflicted by parental will, unkind, 
' Thy love with me but, dar'd its thoughts repose, 
' And the true cause for which thy health repin'd. 
' With fear foreboding ill, I heard thy plaint, 
' Studi'd thy comfort with all careful aid; 
' But foe to this, the soul corroding taint 
' Would still with constant war thy peace invade. 
' So

75 
' So gives the ductile sway, the subtile fire; 
' So the envenom'd dart the life demands; 
' Round the pale bosom plays the young desire, 
' And slow consuming"—thro' the frame expands. 
' Alas! when rigour's laws, our hearts reprove, 
' And thus fidelity's true bliss control, 
' Desponding, forlorn, unpropitious love, 
' Unnerves the body, but enchains the soul. 
' No balm of peace—the ceaseless rack illumes, 
' No beam of gladness on the wishes shines; 
' In constant vigil, care the health consumes, 
' And ling'ring death around the life entwines. 
' A kindly death!—when ev'ry promis'd joy, 
' And former prospect, sinks in harsh disease; 
' Come, Innocence! thy cordials employ! 
' And lead the victims hence to endless ease!
' Deplor'd Eliza! can e'er aught remove 
' My priz'd remembrance!—no—we cannot part; 
' I'll live to praise—regret—thy faithful love, 
' Till destin'd hence, I meet again thy heart.' 
GENERAL

GENERAL ANALYSIS 
OF PART THE 
FOURTH. 
Arrival at the acmé of youth, what dangers are then 
pendent, restriction of the growth of the body, and what
effects may happen from some causes, before the balance be- 
tween the powers of extention and resistance is established. 
—Dancing mentioned, it's ascendancy, universality, and 
exhilerating effects.—Admirable beauties, good qualities, 
and accomplishments of Laura delineated.—Zara's cha- 
racter, and excellencies.—The meritorious praise of 
Matilda, good wishes, grateful recollection of enjoyment.—
With whom dancing most accords, cautions for its use.— 
Further advice commendatory of moderation, and the
avoiding of certain errors—attention to the dictates of 
nature enforced.—Night fitly appropriated for rest, its 
sway allures thereto.—An address to evening—Continua- 
tion of it, effects experienced, the indulgence of meditation
at that time.—Moonlight, its reign praised, contemplative 
sensations and pleasures experienced by it.—Retirement 
in

77 
in advanced night, sentiments, visionary pleasures in sleep. 
—Morning how welcom'd, a desire.—Equal thankful- 
ness offered to morn, as at night, a suppliant request.—An
early excursion at Rockley, descriptive attempt, the sport- 
man's departure and success.—The shepherd's flock driven 
from the fold.—Barrows, little alteration made in 
them by time, comparatively mentioned, Barbury's en— 
trenchment—Stoney masses, the disposal of their arrange- 
ment in the place alluded to, giving reason to imagine they 
were formerly artificially sited for druidical purposes, that 
state compared with their present.—Safety recommended 
to females, by their right observance of nature, and adher— 
ence to her requisitions.—Acts of the weak, often impelled 
by forcible inclination, contrary to reason and rectitude, 
effects from elated minds, and exertion of body.—En- 
thusiasm, its powers, dangerous consequences undreaded, 
may take place from the immoderate pursuit of enjoyment, 
attendants on excess in the peculiar and particular pre- 
dicament pourtrayed, a cause interrupting health, rashly
provoked, event.—The fate of errors.—Further effects 
and symptoms introduced, tendent to hectic or febrile state, 
certain afflictions and the stages of hectic Paroxysm de- 
scribed, progress of signs and disease, intermission and re-
turn of Paroxism.—Increasing alarms, further appear-
L ances.

78 
ances.—Continuance of distress and danger, augmentation
of Phthisis—The lingering advancement of calamities, 
frailty and decay, throughout these the power of hope.— 
Emaciation, fixed prognostics, indications, from the aspect
and whose body, of approaching fate.—What formerly 
may have pleased the eye and imagination, and which 
might afford satisfaction to the observation of the health- 
ful, supplies no source of enjoyment to the wearied, suf- 
fering and despairing patient.—Resignation, death ar- 
rives not too early for the relief, and felicity of mortality
from a wretched and life afflicted state, willing compliance 
with the exitial demand. 
PHTHISIOLOGIA.

PHTHISIOLOGIA. 
PART IV. 
NOW youth, by time, led forward on life's way, 
Displays th' appointed acmé of its day; 
And brings the system to that ordinance, 
From which th' elastic tubes no more advance. 
When no more yielding to the pulsile force, 
They bear extension, by the sanguine course, 
Then, unsuspected may a cause arise, 
To give to predispos'd disease supplies. 
When fickle health might need such kind recruit, 
To raise the germen to maturer fruit. 
But

80
But near to health is morbid ill alli'd, 
And slight the fence that does the state divide, 
If heedlessly, or rashly in a fact,
Born by the torrent of wild pleasure's act;
The mind beyond the body's powers bold, 
Disdains a rein, and ranges uncontroul'd. 
If ardent exercise, oft doom'd to blame, 
Awakes the danger of the tendent flame, 
If wanton spurrings urge the crimson'd tide, 
The rules of prudent caution to deride. 
Then, fiercely gliding in its strict domain, 
Resisting bonds the current may restrain, 
In sturdy vessel—whose establish'd fate, 
For the exub'rant flux no more dilate. 
Whilst nought the heart's impulsive force revokes, 
Urging the blood with swist successive strokes. 
Augmenting contest, opposition brings, 
Whence fatal evil from the rupture springs, 
Of the minute, confin'd arterial length; 
To furnish future pains for lavish'd strength. 
Greatly, as some observe, if heat succeeds, 
With pow'r expansile, after winter's deeds.
The

81
The dance—the giddy spirits much incites,
Allures the wishes by its gay delights.
Enliv'ning joy! that nations all revere, 
That lives the friend of mirth in ev'ry sphere! 
That universally the mind has fir'd, 
As if, by nature's free command inspir'd, 
In jocund mood—when being first she fram'd, 
Vivacious tendency in mortals nam'd. 
The lusory of fancy's light—stepp'd heed, 
When health and vigour animate the deed. 
And joyous music adds it's sprightly share, 
To glad the heart, and tread on pensive care. 
To actuate the body's energy, 
Advance its life, and shew its liberty. 
The sway of torpid dulness to elude, 
And wanton in capricious attitude. 
Or playful act—in airy mode arrang'd, 
By lively judgment's votive wishes chang'd. 
To bid the agile limbs their gifts devote, 
And vari'd motions gracefully denote. 
To please the eye, to captivate the mind, 
And shew each trait with winning ease combin'd.
See!

82
See! Laura thus, the fashion'd figure trace, 
And thou shalt see the charms of ev'ry grace. 
Whose bright attractions pleasure shall impart, 
And fix a wonder on the captive heart. 
Observe her manners, and her mein survey! 
And thou shalt own admiring fancy's sway. 
See the expressive powers of her eyes, 
And thou shalt know what utterance defies. 
Could'st thou too, see the beauties of her mind, 
Thou then wouldst know what Heav'n complete 
design'd. 
Where e'er she moves, her presence can enhance, 
Each joy experienc'd in the cheerful dance. 
When she retreats, she leaves a just delight, 
Which each one treasures in the mental fight, 
Fix'd in the hoard of nurtur'd mem'ry's store, 
Which time reviews, and still admires the more, 
For when departed from the busy crowd, 
I've heard her prais'd, in truths which all allow'd.
Yet, though such transports Laura may inspire, 
Zara has charms, which rightly all admire. 
Her welcome converse can each friend supply, 
And teach the moments happily to fly. 
To

83
To her, attention, smiling hearing lends, 
And with esteem to sweet instruction bends. 
Aönian strains, wak'd by her touch vibrate, 
To raise our bliss, or sorrows dissipate. 
When dulci-sonant from the smitten chord, 
Arise those pleasures music can afford. 
Or, when in tuneful song, she swells her voice, 
Mortals may love, and Heav'n commend their choice.
Prais'd be the Pow'r! that harmony invests, 
Which by the ear, the captive heart arrests.—
Happy must he be, boundless sweets him bless! 
Who shall her love with equal love caress. 
To him, a desart, paradise might be, 
And teem abundant with felicity. 
Unkindly, savage manners might give way, 
To own the favor of her gentle sway. 
Her soothing mildness, and her art to please, 
Each adverse trouble would annul with ease. 
Her gladsome means would calm the rugged will, 
And smiles spread o'er the brow of rugged ill. 
I would arraign too, here, more words thus due, 
Few are their train—tho' speaking much that's true. 
Deck'd

84 
Deck'd in integrity's pure robes my lays, 
Would give Matilda's worth approval's praise. 
No studied language—Muse! need be thy care, 
If but the fruits of knowledge it declare. 
Through day's assembled in spring—youth's gay train, 
I've known her, lovely—friendly—and humane. 
And in maturer summer's brighter years, 
The dut'ous child that aged need now cheers,
Still the warm patron of benevolence, 
Disciple prudent—of her guide—Good sense. 
For her—oh, could my wishes long instil!
What but Omnipotence can here fulfil! 
They should for her, a daily grateful share, 
Of pleasure and felicity prepare. 
Time should long hover on a tardy wing, 
While plenty should for her its blessings bring. 
All grateful health, administer to ease, 
And peace reward her with those sweets which please. 
Whilst far from her, hours, still with me commence, 
Which may to me, her converse not dispense. 
I'll recollect, with solace to my mind, 
That former time has to my life been kind. 
When thought, with gratitude shall often own, 
The lot I've had, that I to her was known. 
Joy

85
Joy to thy rural form! thy lonely seat, 
Begirt with hills, within the vale's retreat!
Oft for thee, Villa, shall my wishes say, 
And nature's bounties bless the night and day: 
For there Matilda dwells—and there divulg'd, 
To me, has been much social good indulg'd. 
Chorea's sports most with young health accord, 
When gen'rous strength can rich supplies afford;
Which ev'ry lively property impart, 
To aid the activeness of youthful art. 
But ah! be cautious—ye, who much devise! 
The frequent moments of this exercise, 
Ye vent'rous many who the wish avow,
With prudence learn its pleasures to allow! 
The strongest cannot long excess endure, 
Nor freedom from its dire effects ensure, 
Those future pains, which from indulgence spring,
And long your hours with lassitude may sting. 
But chiefly, you! who need important care, 
The balm of vigour, most with wisdom share! 
Ye fair! for whom I tempt the arduous song, 
Never the luring pastime much prolong! 
M With

86 
With temperance indulge the appetite, 
And taste in moderation each delight. 
Let not the present time be ever cloy'd! 
Nor future, with repentant thought alloy'd! 
May lax fatigue ne'er speak the sad expence, 
Which tells the waste of life—sustaining sense! 
Let not by pond'rous ill, the frame unnerv'd, 
Accuse—that reason has from justice swerv'd! 
Ne'er with the latest hour, and night's dark sway, 
Waste your support—the need of coming day! 
Let not the warning harbinger of morn, 
Observe the visage of a form forlorn! 
Or nature's children on your sports awoke, 
Know errors which may sober blame provoke! 
Let them not witness what should be repos'd, 
Long, ere the wakeful dawning is disclos'd! 
They rise refresh'd, and leave the sop'rous bed, 
By morn and health, companions blithe, forth led. 
Whilst you those sweets, by heedless means divest, 
And listless discontent—estrang'd to rest. 
Who seek the favours of right health and wit, 
Must to the voice of nature's call submit. 
But

87
But if you flight her, vainly may you woo, 
For her attendance, when your wishes sue. 
Expect not downy ease shall be allow'd, 
But, as you her disciples, are avow'd. 
Ye! who would “ hope to guide your course aright, 
“ Go, seek when shade proclaims the middle night, 
“ The house of sleep”—there may you comfort find, 
In rest of body—and repose of mind. 
Give sleep to night—and vivify by day, 
Is what creation's good examples, say, 
When shades descend—and darkness on this world, 
As from the realms of Erebus is hurl'd, 
One gen'ral sense all nature would inspire, 
And shed around somniferous desire. 
Tranquility, with night, in fables dwells, 
And to the frame sleep's peaceful message tells. 
Allures the mind its loss to renovate, 
And for the light fresh action to create. 
Thou saint—ey'd light! to lovely Venus dear,* 
Delightsome ev'ning! thy dim garb I cheer! 
Advanced image of approaching night, 
In whom the sessile limbs of toil delight! 
Soft
* See Greek Idyl. 

88 
Soft sober twilight! nurse of tender thought! 
With gentle, dewy, fertile blessings fraught! 
With thee! nor orb of day or night I want, 
Nor would I on the starry gems descant. 
For with thy shades I often slowly tread, 
And humble pleasures in thy aspect read. 
Thou solemn season! on thy dusky wing, 
Repose, and silence ever with thee bring! 
Whether bright luna, or the star of love, 
Watch roscid plains—or unseen by us, move! 
With thee, the clouds hang 'midst the mantle grey, 
Ere other orbs bestow a friendly ray. 
When brighter light retreats from our domain, 
And lengthen'd shadows stretch across the plain. 
Reason then slumb'ring on the mental throne, 
Awaking fancy gilds each scene alone. 
Whilst on the breezes, whisp'ring notes, now steal, 
Like distant soundings of the sea's appeal. 
As fiercely on the rocky shore it laves, 
And spreads the murmurs of its dashing waves. 
Like mingled voices, which from towns resound. 
Where commerce and the noisy arts abound. 
Oft

89 
Oft have I hail'd thy visionary hour, 
Its magic reign, and right of mimic pow'r. 
Oft, have I prais'd, thy pure and soothing sway, 
More pleas'd by it, than with the charms of day. 
Oft as the busy world from toil retires, 
Shall minds like mine, with thee calm their desires. 
Court thy wan light—now heeding day no more, 
Whilst pleas'rous vot'ries crowded haunts explore. 
Far I, from these—more happily have stray'd, 
And thought true peace the tenant of the shade. 
Or, when the moon, high thron'd in cloudless skies. 
When nought, a vapour, dew or mist supplies, 
To veil her albid beauties from the sight, 
Shines the resplendant luminant of night. 
Pleas'd have I view'd her mild and tranquil beam, 
On mountain rest—or tremble on the stream. 
My soul then calm—seem'd like the season fair. 
Releas'd from pain, and ev'ry mortal care. 
How solac'd then, has been my solemn heart, 
By sweets which modest ev'ning could impart, 
Kind mistress of night's hours! thy humble ray 
Attends the trav'ller, on his day—spent way; 
When

90
When weari'd nature seeks her due repose; 
And leaves thy gleam each object to disclose. 
Whilst the sweet songster of the umbrose night, 
Breaks the wide silence that invests the night. 
Deep hid, she warbles, from the secret grove, 
And cheers the steps that with her vigils rove. 
But when obscur'd, the fading shadows flee, 
Warned, by night! I seek my couch with thee. 
Giving to Him, to whom for rest I sue. 
That gratitude, which, is alone his due, 
I quit, for sleep, my half unfinish'd theme, 
With hopes to meet thee, Clara! in a dream. 
Ye sprites! with fairy wing to me approach! 
And wast me by your aid to Clara's couch! 
I haste to meet her, in the airy view, 
Till day shall bid me wonted tasks renew. 
Now, gone, the nightly hours, with moments fleet, 
With morn once more, I live my love to greet. 
The day again, for her my care invites, 
And thus affection for it's Clara writes:—
O may unnumber'd days refresh my eyes! 
With looks on Clara, happily to rise! 
'Tis

91 
'Tis but for that, I mostly life request, 
Depriv'd of that—I bow to Heaven's behest! 
As seeking sleep—I court the godhead's aid, 
In quiet mood—whilst lasts the nightly shade. 
With early dawn, so would I wish to rise, 
And wast a grateful prayer to the skies. 
Thanking the Parent of fair health and day, 
With joy I view the sun's first rising ray. 
I ever would thus, and have oft, thus rose, 
And lest fatigue the conquest of repose. 
Hailing the splendour that brings forth the morn, 
And bids fair hope all nature's face adorn. 
Where'er my limbs may kindly thus recline, 
May welcome the protecting hand divine, 
Shall my oraisons—ever so be rais'd; 
And bliss, and plenty's donor, ever prais'd! 
May sorrows not the course of light attend! 
But peace the mansion I dwell in, append! 
May sweet content! may health! may solid joy! 
The hours of its inhabitants employ! 
So pray'd my heart—when with the early dawn, 
My footsteps led me thro' the grassy lawn. 
To

92 
To where the Downs' short herbed turf extends, 
Which hills and vales connected, comprehends. 
O'erlooking those domains, more richly crown'd, 
Which tranquil Rockley's villag'd mansions bound. 
Where, artful care thy rural seat has deck'd, 
T' impose the hand of nature, and protect. 
What vari'd thoughts my musing bosom fill! 
Ascending, and whilst on the neighb'ring hill! 
From whence bewild'ring scenes divert the eye, 
In limits, that the vision'd pow'rs defy. 
Which wand'ring round—each object to pursue, 
At hand now rests, or on the distant view. 
The clouds from off the horizon arise, 
Dispers'd by sol, now seek the far-spread skies. 
Upon the wings of air they take a flight, 
And leave the hills they rested on through night. 
The valli'd mists too, like a sea wide spread, 
Now haste to leave their lowly, silent bed. 
Aurora opens now, the heavenly gates, 
And forth the rapid steeds of sun elates. 
In vari'd tints light's beams reflected play, 
And smiling, introduce the splendid day. 
Forth from his dome the eager sportsman strays, 
Whilst pleas'd, around, each well train'd dog, him, plays. 
Him, 


93 
Him, from whose bitub'd gun's unerring aim, 
The winged tribe no life's escape can claim. 
Around the ripen'd gifts of Ceres rise, 
In joyous plenty of the year's supplies. 
A numerous flock-with twitt'rings seek to share, 
Their claim'd proportion of autumnal fare. 
And now begins the labour of the swain, 
To homeward lead the produce of the plain. 
The torpid shepherd, bred to hardy fare, 
Leads forth his feeding, slowly wand'ring care. 
Whilst watchful, near, his strict companion lies, 
Or, as his message bids, obed'ent flies. 
The willing dog—whose heedful act commands, 
All, that his Master's words, or look demands. 
Whose daily work, distinguish'd by light deeds, 
But little with variety succeeds. 
Where, on the grassy turf his flock he leads, 
There, where, his steps in thoughtless mood now treads, 
Far other acts, in passed years were fam'd; 
By others trod, in martial numbers nam'd. 
There, on the plain, now stands each circled bed,* 
Where sleep the relics of the honour'd dead. 
N There,
* Barrows. 


94 
There, all that now remains of them, resides, 
Yet undisturb'd, in rest sepultur'd 'bides. 
Far hence removed from annals that can trace, 
Traits—that denote them, of the brave or base. 
Perhaps opponents of some hostile band, 
That rear'd their banners on yond' entrench'd land *. 
Where further from the view remotely plac'd, 
The works of ancient pow'r, and art, are trac'd. 
Whilst gaudy monuments in work sublime. 
Have moulder'd victims of consuming time, 
Those tombs remaining hostile to decay, 
Have ages brav'd, and ev'ry boist'rous day. 
Far, in the western vale's retir'd retreat, 
Where, hence, the eye not penetrates their seat, 
Those faxile masses—in moss colour rude, 
Upon the earth—in rugged form intrude. 
Now in a mode irregular, display'd, 
Or, as by rules of antique will array'd. 
When superstition's dark myster'ous night, 
On ignorance, spread forth the pagan rite. 
A spot that, fit, their doctrines to instil, 
When shading trees, o'er grew each neigh'bring hill. 
Where
* Barbury (castle) so called. 

96
Where wond'ring awe might aptly contemplate, 
The priestly knowledge of the ways of fate. 
Whilst from the altar'd-rocks, expands a beam, 
Which from the fire of sanctity wou'd gleam. 
And through each avenue shoots forth a ray, 
Where near them, shone, the brighter god of day. 
Ye PILES OBDURATE! whence your former birth? 
Now sinking to the mansions of the earth. 
Your weather—beaten forms now lowly rise, 
To meet, scarce chang'd, the blasts of many skies. 
Whilst round your hallow'd seat, the shepherd's heed, 
The sparing herbage ruminating seed. 
Or, on your confines, now, the plough and spade
By culture's hands upon your site invade. 
No precepts of tradition hence arise, 
Nor presage drawn from well wrought sacrifice. 
Which Druid' minds in cunning forms suppos'd, 
And to the weak in mystic sense disclos'd. 
Around you hovers oft' the preying bird, 
Or the hoarse raven, on you perch'd, is heard. 
The rook industr'ous, in his daily ways, 
Oft' midst your lone, and quiet precincts strays. 
And near you, oft, the vagrant swallow hies, 
Whilst fleeting far, pursuing food he flies. 
Though


96 
Though now, nor yet, companion of these lands 
His wants, his stay, Wilthona's bounds demands. 
Avoid, YE FAIR! with thoughful prudence pause, 
Ere yet subjected to—a baneful cause. 
Which softers sickness—shun the morbid snare! 
Which tempts to danger, follow nature's care. 
She smiles to see her childrens happiness, 
And find her rules of health, bless'd with success. 
Cast round your eyes—and let creation speak, 
Then blush to find your fortitude oft' weak. 
See, you! asham'd!—the rudesh creature wise, 
Whilst you their just example oft' despise. 
They, following the laws of wisdom's plan, 
Excel their titled king—vain fickle man. 
See, the frail maid—who scarcely dares to try, 
The rights of exercise, beneath our sky, 
Or feel a breeze—yet, let th' illumin'd hall
Bespeak amusements—or the nightly ball. 
All tendent dangers willing, she defies; 
And not a wish—as ought to be—denies. 
At morn, the night's lov'd auspices, seem far, 
The day, too slowly, lingers on his car, 
To

97 
To bring th' assemblage, that she wou'd behold, 
In each excess—by fashion's modes extoll'd. 
In toil rejoicing, bound in custom's chain, 
Such as from which, consid'rate minds refrain. 
Elate, and flushed, with imagin'd glee, 
She bids her servor in extremes be free 
With gay emotion—whilst each transport grows, 
Beats in the pulse, or on the visage glows. 
Quick from the breast the heaved gales arise, 
And panting respiration—quick'ned flies. 
No supposition now the minds alarms. 
Lost, in possession of its' present charms. 
Now is the rash imagination blaz'd, 
As on ideas' lofty summit rais'd. 
That subtle spirit, which enflames the will, 
And bids the mind it's phrenzi'd thoughts fulfil. 
Enthusiasm! no rigid maxims dreads, 
But ardour over every effort spreads. 
Impression! that the youthful mind receives, 
And with the heart of liberty, but lives. 
Flame of Genius! from the realms sublime. 
That lives with early years—and fades with time! 
Inspir'd by thee! the eager soul disdains. 
The conscious whisp'rings of ensuing pains. 
No

98 
No fears attack, suspicion nought avails, 
Till sad experience the mind assails. 
As—shou'd, thus hurri'd, in this practice bold, 
An adverse sense it's potent force unfold. 
Shou'd night's fell damp, or cold depressing breeze. 
The heated victim in her vent'rings seize. 
The sudden stroke, in ev'ry mischief rise. 
Repels the vigour æstuant of life. 
Then shrinks the vapour that the surface guards, 
And rapidly, flies to the inmost wards. 
The pores declare the errors of excess, 
And close, in witness, of the sad recess. 
Excess! joint compact, of intemp'rate mood, 
The foe of ease, and ev'ry placid good. 
The friend of languor, and its tyrant sway, 
Which, all debility's frail tribe obey. 
With blameful habits, hand in hand, it treads, 
And to the goal of disappointment leads. 
Delusive joy! high rais'd on pleasure's brink, 
Ye soar awhile—and then to sorrow sink. 
Fatal extreme!—what shall the deed appease, 
But the dire symptoms of a caus'd disease. 
Henceforth, it steals upon the languid health, 
And routs its wholesome laws, by certain stealth.
The

99 
The hopeful source of happiness, is quell'd, 
And all it's salutary aims expell'd. 
So, wounded, falls, what expectation view'd,
As by a suing conq'ring foe subdu'd. 
Such, hasty errors—thoughtlessly oft' met, 
Some have remembered with long regret. 
With tears repentant, blam'd th' incautious fault, 
Which doom'd their early years to Death's assault. 
Contesting in a painful dang'rous war, 
With Pneumony—or weeping harsh Catarrh. 
Whose symptoms, pendent on afflicted sense, 
Arouse—and bid a foe, it's deeds commence. 
When seizing on a Phthisic form detail'd, 
And disposition on that race entail'd. 
Hereditary progeny 'fore nam'd, 
Of Stamina peculiarly fram'd. 
Thus unprotected—vainly, oft' oppos'd, 
The paths of injury are hence disclos'd. 
Dreadful Hoemoptysis—and febrile train, 
Are baneful leaders to ensuing pain. 
In feeble form, and rutile visag'd hue, 
Whose conflicts, respiration, wou'd subdue. 
Constant

100
Constant in urgings, on the lungs impress'd, 
With teizing cough—the enemy of rest. 
Bursting the bonds which vital streams attire, 
Augmenting ills, with inflammation dire. 
Till desp'rate tokens of the hectic tribe, 
Their certain traits, upon the frame inscribe. 
Not e'er beheld, but with a fear forlorn, 
Though oft' with all it's flattering wiles long born.
Now burning with Pyrexia's alarm, 
Now temp'rate, bidding hope it's nurstling charm. 
Seeming to woo with convalescent face, 
Whilst leading on to death, with certain pace. 
Now with constringing frigid touch it shakes, 
The pallid frame, which lethal sense partakes. 
Then, calid, with the nightly shade it treads, 
And anxious tumults o'er the suff'rer spreads. 
Triumphant now each paroxysm assails, 
With thirsty parchings that no aid avails. 
Throughout the looks, the pulse, the tyrant reigns, 
That binds the fev'rish victim in its chains. 
Whose tristful feelings, every day intrude, 
Form'd by the finger of inquietude. 
Each function is disturb'd, which health ordains, 
And unappeas'd impediments retains.
Scarcely

101
Scarcely does morn enjoy a kind relief, 
Though flatter'd with a wish'd quiescence—brief. 
The morn, that springs with joy, upon health's store, 
Thy prospects, scarcely, dare in thought implore. 
To languish in a madid dewy bath, 
Pour'd by the efflux of each porous path. 
Vainly, now, calmness, can the day receive, 
Though cheer'd by apyrexia's reprieve. 
Kind internal! but with insidious smiles!
Which leads to ruin—whilst its ease beguiles. 
Scarce known or felt, so as to be enjoy'd, 
Ere soon again, its sweets are all alloy'd. 
Exacerbations, count again the scenes, 
And daily doom, to former, supervenes. 
Thus miseries in morbid shape rotate, 
And harmonize strict' with th' eventful state. 
A fontful source, which life cannot divest. 
Fix'd, tyrannizes in the dolent chest. 
Rules in the lungs with grasp of might, intense, 
And issues sanguine—sputed purulence. 
In pantings frequent—coughs' distressing length, 
Malific to the toiling, fainting strength. 
Doom'd to its goal, by long, and slow decay, 
To unrepell'd assaults, a waning prey, 
O With




102 
With voice raucidinous, and sinking breath, 
So winds along, the stream of life, to death. 
And num'rous more evinced sad effects, 
The muse, ineffable, not here elects. 
Calamity! what, tokens yet succeed! 
To trace the mischief of the morbid deed. 
The fault'ring corpse, is led by certain force. 
In ling'ring progress on its destin'd course. 
A dying lambent flame—so life departs, 
Averse to sustenance by medic' arts. 
To its last ebb, now gliding with decay. 
The spark now glimmers it's support away. 
Fix' in despair—yet HOPE still animates, 
And soothing confidence in aid creates. 
The drooping frame to raise—that FRIEND contends, 
Like as the trembling drop that yet appends, 
Shook by the gales—that passing by it, slit; 
Unwilling still, its tender hold to quit. 
Proud son of Phœbus! canst thou stem the ill, 
“ With all thy boasted implements or skill? 
“ Or all thy well cramm'd magazines of health?”
Bestow them here—and crown thyself with wealth.
Deflower'd




103 
Deflower'd figure! wreck'd remains, how Frail!
What thoughts or care, can now thy life avail! 
Weak skeleton! of what thy kindred knew, 
And lov'—and what the world cou'd pleased view. 
And viewing love—and e'er the pleasure own, 
To love thee more, the more, and truly known, 
I see thy tabid state—emaciate shade! 
Pursu'd by death—whose shafts thy life pervade. 
Thy harass'd breath—and ev'ry symptom fell, 
Effects how doleful! which denote thy knell. 
Each known prognostic, in its full extent, 
Presages sure th' approaching sad event, 
Cadav'rous looks, o'er all thy former, rise, 
Sunk cheeks—deep hollow orbs—and vapid eyes. 
Where life but hovers—destitute of ease, 
And seems to look for kind, and quick release. 
For life alas! no joys for thee retains, 
Whilst destitute—thus vital health remains. 
Autumn's rich, mellow tints, or summer's charm, 
May please—and much the healthful bosom warm. 
With morning's dewy feet, enliv'ning spring, 
May stores of gayest bloom, or plenty bring. 
Or blasting Winter, rise with rugged pow'r, 
Whilst social pleasures bless the ev'nings hour. 
But





104 
But not for thee—comes autumn's vari'd die, 
Nor smile the fruits of earth—nor shines the sky, 
No more can spring thy blighted hopes restore, 
Or summer's splendour—give it's bounties more.
Not cheered by the bright—rais'd, solar ray, 
Expanding flow'rs shall deck for thee, the day. 
The light that glads each herb or leafy tree, 
Beams but a joyless influence on thee. 
Nor can the gay, domestic circle prove, 
Thy ease—nor hence, thy morbid hours remove. 
Far—far—beyond the reach of human art, 
Lie the sore wounds, which now their woes impart. 
Scarce can the opiate's aid, with lulling pow'r, 
Beguile the vigils of each night's long hour. 
For sense, and mem'ry, still those pains avow, 
Which cancels sleep—nor scarce relief can know. 
The tender cares, the relatives of life, 
That soothe in youth, the daughter, or the wife, 
By death's cold hand, shall be relentless torn, 
Nor shall the season of thy years adorn. 
The wreathe of hope, so fair, by fancy wove, 
By friendship softer'd, and compos'd by love, 
Destroyed in misfortune's baleful doom, 
Here, with thy expectations ne'er shall bloom. 
No




105 
No essay, now, the ultimate defeats, 
Th' expiring mortal, willingly retreats. 
“ Taught half by reason, half by mere decay, 
“ To welcome death, and calmly pass away.”
In virtue, yet unstain'd, the mind submits, 
Resign—this passing world, in peace it quits. 
The heart still sentient of impressed thought, 
Rich is, with goodly expectation fraught. 
It's vivid sentiment does not abscond, 
Though still the habitant of frailty's bond. 
Without regret, it yields it's mortal breath. 
And smiles with reason, in a friendly death. 
For conscious innocence, all fears dispels, 
And ev'ry doubt of future blessings quells. 
Whilst the tongue fault'ring, scarce' to sound gives
birth, 
As vision fades, upon the orb of earth. 
The low sigh'd whisper, seems a wish to tell. 
That breathes to all—here left, a last Farewell. 
THE END. 



7 
ERRATA 
IN THE POEM. 
Page Line 
5 11 for admired read admir'd 
13 8—food read good 
17 15—sigh read sighs
29 2—in Poeonians delete s 
31 8—for need read meed 
37 21—varied read vari'd 
39 22—add' to thoughts and delete the sequent comma after it. 
3—sway read say 
43 16—respird read respired 
45 6—of the note for nox read mox 
53 1—to read so 
54 4—or read but 
56 22—after satisfaction insert a comma
62 3—for know'st read know
63 14—the realms read thy
15—which read where, 
16—explored read explor'd 
65 10—after despair insert a comma 
21—for unsullied read unsulli'd
73 16—an read And
19—unalloy'd read unalloyed 
77 24—i in Paroxism insert y 
83 19—rugged read froward 
84 3—studied read studi'd 
87 15—sables read sable 
92 6—for impose read improve
95 3 in rocks delete s 
97 11 in minds—s 
101 9 for internal read interval 
102 1—raucidinous read raucedinous