TASSO'S FAMILIAR SPIRIT. BY MRS. CRAWFORD. THEY deem me mad-but my mind hath wit Sweet colloquy holding with moon and star; And there comes to me, when the sun is fled, And its wings are as moonlight softly spread, In the holy mines of eternity. They say 'tis a vision that fancy weaves, That the feeling of sadness hath wrought the spell, Though I hear not the voice of the mystic one, And an odour sweet as from Araby's land; And I talk with that beautiful spirit, and hear That my soul must journey, her God to reach. Oh! what is the garland of fame to me, Or the praises of men that I little prize? Farewell to the loves and the friendships of earth! As an inn on the road to eternity. I have pack'd up my treasures, and hidden them all, CONFESSIONS OF A QUACK DOCTOR. Nec prosunt domino, quæ prosunt omnibus, artes.-OVID. My days, my very hours are numbered; the cold hand of death presses heavily and painfully upon me; I feel that this bed will be the last, save an earthy one, on which the proprietor of the Balsam of Bethesda will ever lie. Long ere these words are in print, I shall be far beyond the reach of the indignation and censure of man; and it will ease my parting moments, and be a last atonement, if I lay before the public certain particulars wherein I have played a conspicuous, though a deceitful part. At the same time, I must beg the reader to have the candour to bear in mind this remark: that what I have done has been merely for the sake of gain, and not out of malice or ill will to my fellow-creatures as a body, or to any individual in particular. I shall commence with a short sketch of my early life. My father, Reuben Killman, was a brewer, in a small market-town. He married, for his fourth wife, the daughter of the principal apothecary of the place. The issue of that marriage was the author of the present memoir. A short time before I was born, my poor mother had been reading the poems of the Poet Laureat, which made so great an impression on her, that she insisted on my being christened by the name of THALABA. That dear parent was so fondly attached to her only offspring, that during her life she never would allow my tender frame to be exposed to the cruelty of a birch-bearing brute, as she feelingly styled that awful monster, the schoolmaster. On the contrary, she resolved to educate me herself; and, in order that she might direct my talents, of which she had the highest opinion, in the proper channel, she seized the opportunity of taking me, at the age of eight years, to be examined by a celebrated phrenologist, who had announced that he should enlighten the town by a few lectures on his subtle science. I well remember the laying on of hands of that slender gentleman. After duly examining the outward signs of my inward powers, he informed my mother that my developments were so interesting and complicate, that he would take time for reflection, and send her a written opinion. The good lady, gratified by the pains and attention he was paying her favourite, slipped half a guinea into his learned palm, and went home to wait for the promised particulars. The next day she received the following note: "MADAM, "The real reason of my not announcing your son's organs yesterday, was, that I was anxious not to expose him before other parties; but the sacred obligation of truth compels me to state, that I find the organs of acquisitiveness and destructiveness so strong, that I can have little doubt he will be led on from robbery to murder, and finally, end his days at the gallows, unless you take great pains in cultivating his organs of veneration, &c. as explained in my little work, price 118. 6d. "Your obedient servant, "MANUEL PALMER." My mother's rage at this epistle may be conceived. She instantly set off on a crusade against the phrenologist, and called on every neighbour and gossip in the place, denouncing the man's ignorance, and proving it by his letter, and the well-known amiable qualities of her interesting child. I believe the lectures were, after all, as well attended as ever. My father was angry with my mother for exposing the faults of his child, and told her she ought to have hushed up the business. The poor lady retorted, and a quarrel ensued. It was however made up; and the reconciliation was evidently sincere on my father's part, as he advised my mother the following day to leave off brandy and water, which they always had been in the habit of drinking, as he thought ale would be better for her. Although she did as he recommended, my father lost his wife, and I, my kind parent in less than three months from that time. I wished to put my mother's tortoise-shell cat into mourning on the occasion, and as she tore the clothes I made for her, I resolved to blacken those which nature had given her with ink. I had just begun the operation, and had placed the unfeeling animal headforemost down in a boot, with a quart ink bottle in my other hand, when my father appeared. Seeing how I was occupied, he rushed towards me. The abruptness of his manner, (though I was doing no harm, but on the contrary a pious duty,) alarmed me. I fled he pursued. He gained ground: I heard him puff close at my back. In my eagerness to escape, I attempted to jump over a cooler full of ale. I should easily have accomplished the leap, had it not happened that at that moment my father's hand arrested me by the trousers behind. He checked the impetus of my spring, and I fell, with the ink-bottle, boot, and cat, into the middle of the steaming liquid. I screamed, the cat mewed, my father swore. But the death of my mother, I suppose, had softened his heart; for, in a minute he recovered his good humour, laughed at the cat and me, and said " It did not matter, as the boot was the only thing that would be the worse for it." However, he made up his mind to send me to school forthwith, "to improve my manners, and to have me out of harm's way." To school I was sent, and there I remained till I was twelve years old, at which time my father sent for me home, put me into his countinghouse, and taught me the arts of book-keeping and brewing. The latter I found was a far more intricate and mysterious process than the mere mixture of malt and hops. Years went on: I grew up into a man; but as I advanced, the little town declined. It was not a place of much trade, and as the inhabitants died away, they were not rapidly succeeded by fresh settlers. The mortality of the place was certainly very great. The air was voted unhealthy, though formerly it had been considered the reverse. By some extraordinary fatality, my father's best customers were always the first to drop off. I felt for him, and myself, for I was now taken into partnership; and my mind sympathized with Moore's beautiful lines: But, after all, what are gazelles to customers? and what is the sight of its eye to the sight of a bill for beer made out, ready for payment? Alas! these bills decreased as the town decayed, and ere long the Gazette presented the names of "R. Killman and Son, Brewers." The shock upset my father, he never looked up afterwards, and the very day week after the above announcement, I saw his heels standing out of a large mash-tub. He had chosen the fate of Clarence. With the few pounds left to me I fled from the fatal neighbourhood to London. In that vast metropolis I had no chance of setting up in my trade again: there were too many in it already, with larger capitals, and equal skill in composition to myself. For some time I served in one of the principal breweries as a clerk-but my salary was so small, that I could neither pay for wine nor brandy; malt liquor I could not drink—I was too much behind the scenes for that-and for water, which I estimated at a very different value from that put upon it by Pindar, I had a constitutional antipathy-I was a second Tantalus, dying of thirst amidst a profusion of beverage-I could bear it no longer-I left my situation. I was walking, with little in my pockets except my hands, in a most melancholy mood along Bloomsbury Square, when a man held out a paper to me. I took it, and found it to be the puff of a patent medicine. A new light broke in upon me, I cried out, "Eureka," and cut a caper in the air for joy. My plans were quickly settled. I invested my remaining money in drugs, phials, and a chest, and set out on a tour to the country, resolving to commence, like an actor or counsellor, with provincial celebrity first. It was indifferent to me whither I directed my steps, and the accident of seeing a notice of reduced fares, led me to book my place for Birmingham. As soon as I arrived at that populous town, I boldly engaged a handsome lodging, and put an advertisement into the paper, wherein, drawing upon the credit of my future fame, I announced that DocTOR THALABA KILLMAN was to be consulted on every disease to which the human frame is liable, but he had more especially devoted his attention to nervous, cutaneous, chronic, epileptic, intestinal, and mental disorders. The doctor had studied the superior practice of the continent; he had been entrusted to draw the teeth of the Emperor of Russia, had operated on the King of Prussia for the stone, and cured the Queen of Sardinia of dyspepsia vulgaris. From those distinguished individuals, and others no less celebrated, he had received the most satisfactory testimonials. I spent the interval, till the appearance of my advertisement, in writing out autographs of those illustrious persons, and in mixing my newly invented BALSAM OF BETHESDA. This consisted of stimulating and narcotic drugs, most of which had formerly been used by my respected father, but in more diluted quantities. The first patient that ever visited me was an elderly lady, who complained of lowness of spirits. She said she was always miserable except when in company. I did not wonder at this, when I heard her mode of life, which was, to play at cards to a very late hour every night, and to lie in bed till an equally late one the next day. She said she wished for some medicine which would not interfere with her usual engagements. I gave her three of my guinea bottles of the Balsam, and desired her to callagain, when she had taken them. I saw her no more. On referring to my Journal, (I had superscribed it my DIARY,) I find the next who came was of the same sex, but a very different age. Her complaint was love, and her lover had been fickle. I sold her two bottles of my Balsam. She called again in a week, said she had taken it all, had felt very sick and ill in body, but had quite got over her original complaint I told her she had better have a couple of bottles by her, for future occasions, to which she agreed. I understood that shortly afterwards she had a large sum of money left her, that, by a curious coincidence, she again met her former lover, who made her an offer, and they were married immediately. She is alive and well, and keeps my two bottles by her, in case she should ever fall in love with any one else. Her marriage has quite saved her from all danger of falling in love again with the same party. The third case at Birmingham-but I will not go into the particulars. Suffice it to say, it ended in a coroner's inquest. A verdict of manslaughter was returned, and I was put into prison to await my trial. At the assizes an error in the indictment entitled me to an acquittal, and, being set at liberty, I returned to my lodgings, put a long letter into the paper, proving the skill with which I had acted, and that I had been made the victim of the envy and malice of certain resident practitioners-and was as well attended as ever. Wonderful is the credulity of the public. I tried my hand at several other towns; Manchester, Sheffield, Leeds, all had the benefit of my presence. The same success attended me at each of them; that is to say, I enriched myself and benefited my patients -by transplanting them to "another and a happier world." Having accumulated a considerable sum of money, I resolved to discontinue my wandering life, and open my grand campaign in the metropolis. I therefore made arrangements for the sale of my balsam with agents in the different places I had visited, and took a large house in Berners Street. The first thing I did, was to compose a number of new testimonials, and to dress a man up in a striking and appropriate costume, to dispense my announcements to the citizens. His dress was parti-coloured-half green, to represent the last stage of the cholera, and half spotted, to signify the plague and eruptive diseases. The following is a copy of my circulars "VIVE VALEQUE. Art thou afflicted, and would'st thou be healed? Go to No. 400, Berners Street, and consult Dr. THALABA KILLMAN. All diseases arise from one source, the unhealthiness and derangement of the system. To cure this, Dr. T. K., after intense study and long practice, by a heaven-sent thought discovered the wonderful, miraculous, and infallible BALSAM OF BETHESDA. Be timely wise. The poet has judiciously pointed out the three great desiderata of life, and which has he placed first? HEALTH, peace, and competence!' "In addition to testimonials from several crowned heads, Dr. T.K. has, amongst many others, received the following grateful acknowledgments from his own countrymen. "SIR, "Birmingham, Sept. 6. "I was born deaf, dumb, and blind, and continued in that melancholy state of privation till about a fortnight ago. I have often seen my parents mingling their tears for hours together, and when I have asked them the reason, they have answered in voices choked with sobs- We weep for thee!' Think, sir, of their heart-felt delight at my perfect recovery of every faculty. Three weeks ago a friend recommended your balsam. Less out of hope, than from a sense of duty, which prompted them not to throw a chance away, they bought a bottle. Before I had finished it, I could hear certain inarticulate noises, and could stammer a few words, and there was a glimmering of light. By the end of the second bottle, I could hear my mother's tongue going from morn till night, I could get in a word or two, and I could distinguish that her dear nose was red. The third bottle made a man of me. I could understand all that every body said in any language; I could see that my mother's nose was turned up, and I could discourse as fluently as Lord Brougham. These are your doings, and they are acknowledged with a grateful heart by "Your obedient servant, “ To Dr. Thalaba Killman.” Nov. 1835.-VOL. XIV.-No. LV. "MATTHEW MOLE." T |