THE cholera had made its appearance in New York, and many deathswere occurring daily. Among those who weakly permitted themselves tofeel an alarm amounting almost to terror, was a Mr. Hobart, who,from the moment the disease manifested itself, became infested withthe idea that he would be one of its victims.
"Doctor," said he to his family physician, meeting him one day inthe street, "is there nothing which a man can take that will act asa preventive to cholera?"
"I'll tell you what I do," replied the doctor.
"Well, what is it?"
"I take a glass of good brandy twice a day. One in the morning andthe other after dinner."
"Indeed! And do you think brandy useful in preventing the disease?"
"I think it a protection," said the doctor. "It keeps the systemslightly stimulated; and is, besides, a good astringent."
"A very simple agent," remarked Mr. Hobart.
"Yes, the most simple that we can adopt. And what is better, the useof it leaves no after bad consequences, as is too often the casewith medicines, which act upon the system as poisons."
"Sometimes very bad consequences arise from the use of brandy,"remarked Mr. Hobart. "I have seen them in my time."
"Drunkenness, you mean."
"Yes."
"People who are likely to make beasts of themselves had better letit alone," said the doctor, contemptuously. "If they should take thecholera and die, it will be no great loss to the world."
"And you really think a little good brandy, taken daily, fortifiesthe system against the cholera?"
"Seriously I do," replied the doctor. "I have adopted this coursefrom the first, and have not been troubled with a symptom of thedisease."
"I feel very nervous on the subject. From the first I have beenimpressed with the idea that I would get the disease and die."
"That is a weakness, Mr. Hobart."
"I know it is, still I cannot help it. And you would advise me totake a little good brandy?"
"Yes, every day."
"I am a Son of Temperance."
"No matter; you can take it as medicine under my prescription. Iknow a dozen Sons of Temperance who have used brandy every day sincethe disease appeared in New York. It will be no violation of yourcontract. Life is of too much value to be put in jeopardy on a mereidea."
"I agree with you there. I'd drink any thing if I thought it wouldgive me an immunity against this dreadful disease."
"You'll be safer with the brandy than without it."
"Very well. If you think so, I will use it."
On parting with the doctor, Mr. Hobart went to a liquor store andordered half a gallon of brandy sent home. He did not feelaltogether right in doing so, for it must be understood, that, inyears gone by, Mr. Hobart had fallen into the evil habit ofintemperance, which clung to him until he run through a handsomeestate and beggared his family. In this low condition he was foundby the Sons of Temperance, who induced him to abandon a course whoseend was death and destruction, and to come into their Order. Fromthat time all was changed. Sobriety and industry were returned tohim in many of the good things of this world which he had lost, andhe was still in the upward movement at the time when the fatalpestilence appeared.
On going home at dinner time, Hobart's wife said to him, with aserious face--
"A demijohn, with some kind of liquor in it, was sent here to-day."
"Oh, yes," he replied, it is brandy that Doctor L--ordered me totake as a cholera preventive."
"Brandy!" ejaculated Mrs. Hobart, with an expression of painfulsurprise in her voice and on her countenance, that rather annoyedher husband.
"Yes. He says that he takes it every day as a preventive, anddirected me to do the same."
"I wouldn't touch it if I were you. Indeed I wouldn't," said Mrs.Hobart, earnestly.
"Why wouldn't you?"
"You will violate your contract with the Sons of Temperance."
"Not at all. Brandy may be used as a medicine under the prescriptionof a physician. I wouldn't have thought of touching it had notDoctor L--ordered me to do so."
"You are not sick, Edward."
"But there is death in the very air I breathe. At any moment I amliable to be struck down by an arrow sent from an unseen bow, unlessa shield be interposed. Such a shield has been placed in my hands.Shall I not use it?"
Mrs. Hobart knew her husband well enough to be satisfied thatremonstrance and argument would be of no avail, now that his mindwas m de up to use the brandy; and yet so distressed did she feel,that she couldn't help saying, with tears in her eyes--
"Edward, let me beg of you not to touch it."
"Would you rather see me in my coffin?" replied Mr. Hobart, withsome bitterness. "Death may seem a light thing to you, but it is notso to me."
"You are not sick," still urged the wife.
"But I am liable, as I said just now, to take the disease everymoment."
"You will be more liable, with your system stimulated and disturbedby brandy. Let well enough alone. Be thankful for the health youhave, and do not invite disease."
"The doctor ought to know. He understands the matter better than youor I. He recommends brandy as a preventive. He takes it himself."
"Because he likes it, no doubt."
"It is silly for you to talk in that way," replied the husband, withmuch impatience. "He isn't rendered more liable to the disease bytaking a little pure brandy, for he says that it keeps him perfectlywell."
"A glass of brandy every day may have been his usual custom," urgedMrs. Hobart. "In that case, in its continuance, no change wasproduced. But your system has been untouched by the fiery liquid fornearly five years, and its sudden introduction must createdisturbance. It is reasonable."
"The doctor ought to know best," was replied to this. "He hasprescribed it, and I must take it. Life is too serious a matter tobe trifled with. 'An ounce of preventive is worth a pound of cure,'you know."
"I am in equal danger with yourself," said Mrs. Hobart; "and so arethe children."
"Undoubtedly. And I wish you all to use a little brandy."
"Not a drop of the poison shall pass either my lips or those of thechildren," replied Mrs. Hobart, with emphasis.
"As you please," said the husband, coldly, and turned away.
"Edward!" Mrs. Hobart laid her hand upon his arm. "Edward! Let mebeg of you not to follow this advice."
"Why will you act so foolishly? Has not the doctor ordered thebrandy? I look to him as the earthly agent for the preservation ofmy health and the saving of my life. If I do not regard his advice,in what am I to trust?"
"Remember the past, Edward," said the wife, solemnly.
"I do remember it. But I fear no danger."
Mrs. Hobart turned away sadly, and went up to her chamber to givevent to her feelings alone in tears. Firm to his purpose of usingthe preventive recommended by the doctor, Mr. Hobart, after dinner,took a draught of brandy and water. Nearly five years, as his wiferemarked, had elapsed since a drop of the burning fluid had passedhis lips. The taste was not particularly agreeable. Indeed, hisstomach rather revolted as the flavor reached his palate.
"It's vile stuff at best," he remarked to himself, making a wryface. "Fit only for medicine. Not much danger of my ever loving itagain. I wish Anna was not so foolish. A flattering opinion she hasof her husband!"
The sober countenance of his wife troubled Mr. Hobart, as he lefthome for his place of business earlier by half an hour than usual.Neither in mind nor body were his sensations as pleasant as on theday before. The brandy did something more than produce an agreeablewarmth in his stomach. A burning sensation soon followed itsintroduction, accompanied by a feeling of uneasiness that he did notlike. In the course of half an hour, this unnatural heat was felt inevery part of his body, but more particularly about his head andface; and it was accompanied by a certain confusion of mind thatprevented his usual close application to business during theafternoon.
Towards evening, these disagreeable consequences of the glass ofcholera-preventive he had taken in a great measure subsided; butthere followed a dryness of the palate, and a desire for some drinkmore pleasant to the taste than water. In his store was a largepitcher of ice-water; but, though thirsty, he felt no inclination totaste the pure beverage; but, instead, went out and obtained a glassof soda water. This only made the matter worse. The half gill ofsyrup with which the water was sweetened, created, in a littlewhile, a more uneasy feeling. Still, there was no inclination forthe water that stood just at hand, and which he had daily found sorefreshing during the hot weather. In fact, when he thought of it,it was with a sense of repulsion.
In this state, the idea of a cool glass of brandy punch, or a mintjulep, came up in his mind, and he felt the draught, in imagination,at his lips.
"A little brandy twice a day; so the doctor said." This was utteredhalf aloud.
Just at the moment a slight pain crossed his stomach. It was thefirst sensation of the kind he had experienced since the epidemic heso much dreaded had appeared in the city; and it caused a slightshudder to go through his frame, for he was nervous in his fear ofcholera.
"A little mint with the brandy would make it better still. I don'tlike this feeling. I'll try a glass of brandy and mint." Thus spokeMr. Hobart to himself.
Putting on his hat, he went forth for the purpose of getting somebrandy and mint. As he stepped into the street the pain was feltagain, and more distinctly. The effect was to cause a slightperspiration to manifest itself on the face and forehead of Mr.Hobart, and to make, in his mind, the necessity for the brandy andmint more imperative. He did not just like to be seen going boldlyin at the door of a refectory or drinking-house in a public place,for he was a Son of Temperance, and any one who knew this andhappened to see him going in, could not, at the same time, know thathe was acting under his physician's advice. So he went off severalblocks from the neighborhood in which his store was located, andafter winding his way along a narrow, unfrequented street, came tothe back entrance of a tavern, where he went in, as he desired,unobserved.
Years before, Hobart had often stood at the bar where he now foundhimself. Old, familiar objects and associations brought back oldfeelings, and he was affected by an inward glow of pleasure.
"What! you here?" said a man who stood at the bar, with a glass inhis hand. He was also a member of the Order.
"And you here!" replied Mr. Hobart.
"It isn't for the love of it, I can assure you," remarked the man,as he looked meaningly at his glass. "These are not ordinary times."
"You are right there," said Hobart. "A little brandy sustains andfortifies the system. That all admit."
"My physician has ordered it for me. He takes a glass or two everyday himself, and tells me that, so far, he has not been troubledwith the first symptom."
"Indeed. That is testimony to the point."
"So I think."
"Who is your physician?"
"Dr. L--."
"He stands high. I would at any time trust my life in his hands."
"I am willing to do so." Then turning to the bar-keeper, Mr. Hobartsaid--"I'll take a glass of brandy and water, and you may add somemint."
"Perhaps you'll have a mint julep?" suggested the barkeeper, winkingaside to a man who stood near, listening to what passed between thetwo members of the Order.
"Yes--I don't care--yes. Make it a julep," returned Hobart. "It'sthe brandy and mint I want. I've had a disagreeable sensation," headded, speaking to the friend he had met, and drawing his handacross his stomach as he spoke, "that I don't altogether like. Hereit is again!"
"A little brandy will help it."
"I hope so."
When the mint julep was ready, Hobart took it in his hand andretired to a table in the corner of the room, and the man he had metwent with him.
"Ain't you afraid to tamper with liquor?" asked this person, alittle seriously, as he observed the relish with which Hobart sippedthe brandy. Some thoughts had occurred to himself that were not verypleasant.
"Oh, no. Not in the least," replied Mr. Hobart. "I only take it as amedicine, under my physician's order; and I can assure you that thetaste is quite as disagreeable as rhubarb would be. I believe theold fondness has altogether died out."
"I'm afraid it never dies out," said the man, whose eyes told himplainly enough, that it had not died out in the case of theindividual before him, notwithstanding his averment on the subject.
"I feel much better now," said Mr. Hobart, after he had nearlyexhausted his glass. "I had such a cold sensation in my stomach,accompanied by a very disagreeable pain. But both are now gone. Thisbrandy and mint have acted like a charm. Dr. L--understands thematter clearly. It is fortunate that I saw him this morning. I wouldnot have dared to touch brandy, unless under medical advice; and,but for the timely use of it, I might have been dangerously ill withthis fatal epidemic."
After sitting a little while longer, the two men retired through theback entrance to escape observation.
"How quickly these temperance men seize hold of any excuse to get aglass of brandy," said the bar-keeper to a customer, as soon asHobart had retired, laughing in a half sneer as he spoke. "They comecreeping in through our back way, and all of them have a pain! Ha!ha!"
"I've taken a glass of brandy and water, every day for the last fiveyears," replied the man to whom this was addressed, "and I continueit now. But I can tell you what, if I'd been an abstainer, youwouldn't catch me pouring it into my stomach now. Not I! All who doso are more liable to the disease."
"So I think," said the bar-tender. "But every one to his liking. Itputs money in our till. We've done a better business since thecholera broke out, than we've done these three years. If it were tocontinue for a twelve month we would make a fortune."
This was concluded with a coarse laugh, and then he went to attendto a new customer for drink.
For all Mr. Hobart had expressed himself so warmly in favor ofbrandy, and had avowed his freedom from the old appetite, he did notfeel altogether right about the matter. There was a certain pressureupon his feelings that he could not well throw off. When he wenthome in the evening, he perceived a shadow on the brow of his wife;and the expression of her eyes, when she looked at him, annoyed andtroubled him.
After supper, the uneasiness he had felt during the afternoon,returned, and worried his mind considerably. The fact was, thebrandy had already disturbed the well balanced action of the lowerviscera. The mucous membrane of the whole alimentary canal hadbeen stimulated beyond health, and its secretions were increased andslightly vitiated. This was the cause of the uneasiness he felt, andthe slight pains which had alarmed him. By ten o'clock his feelingshad become so disagreeable, that he felt constrained to meet themwith another "mouthful," of brandy. Thus, in less than ten hours,Mr. Hobart had wronged his stomach by pouring into it three glassesof brandy; entirely disturbing its healthy action.
The morning found Mr. Hobart far from feeling well. His skin was dryand feverish and his mouth parched. There was an uneasy sensation ofpain in his head. Immediately upon rising he took a strong glass ofbrandy. That, to use his own words, "brought him up," and made himfeel "a hundred per cent better." During the forenoon, however, aslight diarrhoea manifested itself. A thrill of alarm was theconsequence.
"I must check this!" said he, anxiously. And, in order to do so,another and stronger glass of brandy was taken.
In the afternoon, the diarrhoea appeared again. It was still slight,and unaccompanied by pain. But, it was a symptom not to bedisregarded. So brandy was applied as before. In the evening, itshowed itself again.
"I wish you would give me a little of that brandy," said he to hiswife. "I'm afraid of this, it must be stopped."
"Hadn't you better see the doctor?"
"I don't think it necessary. The brandy will answer every purpose."
"I have no faith in brandy," said Mrs. Hobart. Poor woman! she hadcause for her want of faith!
"I have then," replied her husband. "It's the doctor'srecommendation. And he ought to know."
"You were perfectly well before you commenced acting on his advice."
"I was well, apparently. But, it is plain that the seeds of diseasewere in me. There is no telling how much worse I would have been."
"Nor how much better. For my part I charge it all on the brandy."
"That's a silly prejudice," said Mr. Hobart, with a good deal ofimpatience. "Every one knows that brandy is a remedy in diseases ofthis kind; not a producing cause."
Mrs. Hobart was silent. But she did not get the brandy. That wasmore than she could do. So her husband got it himself. But, in orderto make the medicinal purpose more apparent, he poured the liquorinto a deep plate, added some sugar, and set it on fire.
"You will not object to burnt brandy at least," said he. "That youknow to be good."
Mrs. Hobart did not reply. She felt that it would be useless. Only adisturbance of harmony could arise, and that would produce greaterunhappiness. The brandy, after having parted with its more volatilequalities, was introduced into Mr. Hobart's stomach, and frettedthat delicate organ for more than an hour.
"I thought the burnt brandy would be effective," said Mr. Hobart onthe next morning. "And it has proved so." In order not to lose thisgood effect, he fortified himself before going out with some of thesame article, unburnt. But, alas! By ten o'clock the diarrhoea showeditself again, and in a more decided form.
Oh dear!" said he in increased alarm. "This won't do. I must see thedoctor." And off he started for Doctor L--'s office. But, on theway he could not resist the temptation to stop at a tavern foranother glass of brandy, notwithstanding he began to entertain asuspicion as to the true cause of the disturbance. The doctorhappened to be in. "I think I'd better have a little medicine,doctor," said he, on seeing his medical adviser. A stitch in time,you know."
"Ain't you well?"
"No," and Mr. Hobart gave his symptoms.
"An opium pill will do all that is required," said the doctor.
"Shall I continue the brandy?" asked the patient.
"Have you taken brandy every day since I saw you?" inquired thedoctor.
"Yes; twice, and sometimes three times."
"Ah!" The doctor looked thoughtful.
"Shall I continue to do so?"
"Perhaps you had better omit it for the present. You're not in thehabit of drinking any thing?"
"No. I haven't tasted brandy before for five years."
"Indeed! Yes, now, I remember you said so. You'd better omit ituntil we see the effect of the opium. Sudden changes are not alwaysgood in times like these."
"I don't think the brandy has hurt me," said Mr. Hobart.
"Perhaps not. Still, as a matter of prudence, I would avoid it. Letthe opium have a full chance, and all will be right again."
An opium pill was swallowed, and Mr. Hobart went back to his placeof business. It had the intended effect. That is, it cured onedisease by producing another--suspended action took the place ofover-action. He was, therefore, far from being in a state of health,or free from danger in a cholera atmosphere. There was one part ofthe doctor's order that Mr. Hobart did not comply with. The free useof brandy for a few days rekindled the old appetite, and made hisdesire for liquor so intense, that he had not, or, if he possessedit, did not exercise the power of resistance.
Sad beyond expression was the heart of Mrs. Hobart, when eveningcame, and her husband returned home so much under the influence ofdrink as to show it plainly. She said nothing to him, then, for thatshe knew would be of no avail. But next morning, as he was rising,she said to him earnestly and almost tearfully.
"Edward, let me beg of you to reflect before you go further in theway you have entered. You may not be aware of it, but last night youshowed so plainly that you had been drinking that I was distressedbeyond measure. You know as well as I do, where this will end, ifcontinued. Stop, then, at once, while you have the power to stop. Asto preventing disease, it is plain that the use of brandy has notdone so in your case; but, rather, acted as a predisposing cause.You were perfectly well before you touched it; you have not beenwell since. Look at this fact, and, as a wise man, regard itsindications."
Truth was so strong in the words of his wife, that Mr. Hobart didnot attempt to gainsay them.
"I believe you are right," he replied with a good deal of depressionapparent in his manner. "I wish the doctor had kept his brandyadvice to himself. It has done me no good."
"It has done you harm," said his wife.
"Perhaps it has. Ah, me! I wish the cholera would subside."
"I think your fear is too great," returned Mrs. Hobart. "Go on inyour usual way; keep your mind calm; be as careful in regard todiet, and you need fear no danger."
"I wish I'd let the brandy alone!" sighed Mr. Hobart, who felt as hespoke, the desire for another draught.
"So do I. Doctor L--must have been mad when he advised it."
"So I now think. I heard yesterday of two or three members of ourOrder who have been sick, and every one of them used a little brandyas a preventive."
"It is bad--bad. Common sense teaches this. No great change of habitis good in a tainted atmosphere. But you see this now, happily, andall will yet be well I trust."
"Yes; I hope so. I shall touch no more of this brandy preventive. Tothat my mind is fully made up."
Mrs. Hobart felt hopeful when she parted with her husband. But sheknew nothing of the real conflict going on in his mind betweenreason and awakened appetite--else had she trembled and grown faintin spirit. This conflict went on for some hours, when, alas!appetite conquered.
At dinner time Mrs. Hobart saw at a glance how it was. The wholemanner of her husband had changed. His state of depression was gone,and he exhibited an unnatural exhilaration of spirits. She needednot the sickening odor of his breath to tell the fatal secret thathe had been unable to control himself.
It was worse at night. He came home so much beside himself that hecould with difficulty walk erectly. Half conscious of his condition,he did not attempt to join the family, but went up stairs and gropedhis way to bed. Mrs. Hobart did not follow him to his chamber.Heartsick, she retired to another room, and there wept bitterly formore than an hour. She was hopeless. Up from the melancholy pastarose images of degradation and suffering too dreadful tocontemplate. She felt that she had not strength to suffer again asshe had suffered through many, many years. From this state she wasaroused by groans from the room where her husband lay. Alarmed bythe sounds, she instantly went to him.
"What is the matter?" she asked, anxiously.
"Oh! oh! I am in so much pain!" was groaned half inarticulately.
"In pain, where?"
"Oh! oh!" was repeated, in a tone of suffering; and then hecommenced vomiting.
Mrs. Hobart placed her hand upon his forehead and found it cold andclammy. Other and more painful symptoms followed. Before the doctor,who was immediately summoned, arrived, his whole system had becomeprostrate, and was fast sinking into a state of collapse. It was adecided case of cholera.
"Has he been eating any thing improper?" asked Doctor L--, afteradministering such remedies, and ordering such treatment as hedeemed the case required.
"Has he eaten no green fruit?"
"None."
"Nothing, to my knowledge, replied Mrs. Hobart. "We have been verycareful in regard to food."
"Nor unripe vegetables?"
Mrs. Hobart shook her head.
"Nor fish?"
"Nothing of the kind."
"That is strange. He was well a few days ago."
"Yes, perfectly, until he began to take a little brandy every day asa preventive."
"Ah!" The doctor looked thoughtful. "But it couldn't have been that.I take a little pure brandy every day, and find it good. I recommendit to all my patients."
Mrs. Hobart sighed. Then she asked--"Do you think him dangerous?"
"I hope not. The attack is sudden and severe. But much worse casesrecover. I will call round again before bed time."
The doctor went away feeling far from comfortable. Only a few hoursbefore he, had left a man sick with cholera beyond recovery, whohad, to his certain knowledge, adopted thebrandy-drinking-preventive-system but a week before; and that at hisrecommendation. And here was another case.
At eleven o'clock Dr. L--called to see Mr. Hobart again, and foundhim rapidly sinking. Not a single symptom had been reached by histreatment. The poor man was in great pain. Every muscle in his bodyseemed affected by cramps and spasms. His mind, however, wasperfectly clear. As the doctor sat feeling his pulse, Hobart said tohim--
"Doctor L--, it is too late!"
"Oh, no. It is never too late," replied the doctor. "Don't think ofdeath; think of life, and that will help to sustain you. You arenot, by any means, at the last point. Hundreds, worse than you noware, come safely through. I don't intend to let you slip through myhands."
"Doctor," said the sick man, speaking in a solemn voice, "I feelthat I am beyond the reach of medicine. I shall die. What I now sayI do not mean as a reproach. I speak it only as a truth right foryou to know. Do you see my poor wife?"
The doctor turned his eyes upon Mrs. Hobart, who stood weeping bythe bedside.
"When she is left a widow, and my children orphans," continued thepatient, "remember that you have made them such!"
"Me! Why do you say that, Mr. Hobart?" The doctor looked startled.
"Because it is the truth. I was a well man, when you, as my medicaladviser, recommended me to drink brandy as a protection againstdisease. I was in fear of the infection, and followed yourprescription. From the moment I took the first draught my body lostits healthy equilibrium; and not only my body, but my mind. I was areformed man, and the taste inflamed the old appetite. From thattime until now I have not been really sober."
The doctor was distressed and confounded by this declaration. He hadfeared that such was the case; but now it was charged unequivocally.
"I am pained at all this," he replied, "In sinning I sinnedignorantly."
But, ere he could finish his reply, the sick man became suddenlyworse, and sunk into a state of insensibility.
"If it be in human power to save his life," murmured the doctor--"Iwill save it."
Through the whole night he remained at the bed-side, giving, withhis own hands, all the remedies, and applying every curative meanswithin reach. But, when the day broke, there was little, if anychange for the better. He then went home, but returned in a coupleof hours.
"How is your husband?" he asked of the pale-faced wife as heentered. She did not reply, and they went up to the chambertogether. A deep silence reigned in the room as they entered.
"Is he asleep?" whispered the doctor.
"See!" The wife threw back the sheet.
"O!" was the only sound that escaped the doctor's lips. It was aprolonged sound, and uttered in a tone of exquisite distress. Thewhite and ghastly face of death was before him.
"It is your work!" murmured the unhappy woman, half beside herselfin her affliction.
"Madam! do not say that!" ejaculated the physician. "Do not saythat!"
"It is the truth! Did he not charge it upon you with his dyingbreath?"
"I did all for the best, madam! all for the best! It was an error inhis case. But I meant him no harm."
"You put poison to his lips, and destroyed him. You have made hiswife a widow and his children orphans!"
"Madam!--"The doctor knit his brows and spoke in a stern voice. But,ere he had uttered a word more, the stricken-hearted woman gave awild scream and fell upon the floor. Nature had been tried beyondthe point of endurance, and reason was saved at the expense ofphysical prostration.
A few weeks later, and Doctor L--, in driving past the formerresidence of Mr. Hobart, saw furniture cars at the door. The familywere removing. Death had taken the husband and father, and the poorwidow was going forth with her little ones from the old and pleasanthome, to gather them around her in a smaller and poorer place. Hisfeelings at the moment none need envy.
How many, like Mr. Hobart, have died through the insane prescriptionof brandy as a preventive to cholera! and how many more have fallenback into old habits, and become hopeless drunkards! Brandy is notgood for health at any time; how much less so, when the very air webreathe is filled with a subtle poison, awaiting the leastdisturbance in the human economy to affect it with disease.
THE END.
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