her dress, found attached to the briers, and locks of her beautiful hair caught in them, gave indications of the route by which her corse had been evidently dragged along, and were traced even to the door of the priest's house; but when the servant came forth, with a fragment of the kerchief Annette had worn, and which she had found in the ashes where the rest had been consumed, there was no longer a doubt left in the minds of the spectators, of who was the perpetrator of the horrible deed.

The murderer fled, pursued by the villagers; but having rushed into the river, he gained the opposite side in safety ere they arrived to see him again resume his flight. He passed the frontier, entered Piedmont, and there overcome with the sense of his guilt, and nearly dead with fatigue, he gave himself up to the civil authorities.

He was soon after claimed by the French, tried, and condemned to the galleys for life; where he still drags on a miserable existence, not daring to lift his eyes from the ground, lest he should meet the glance of horror his presence never fails to excite in all who see him, and know his crime.

Jules no longer able to remain in a spot now rendered insupportable to him, gave up his little fortune to the mother of his Annette, enlisted at Grenoble, and soon after met his death, gallantly fighting at Algiers.

The house of Le Père Laungard, has been razed to the ground by the inhabitants of the village; and a monument has been erected to the memory of the lovely but unfortunate Annette.

SKETCHES FROM THE NOTE-BOOK OF A PHYSICIAN.-No. III.*

THE ADVANTAGES OF TRAVELLING IN DYSPEPSIA.

"Egrescitque medendo."-VIRGIL,

"The fear of death often proves mortal, and sets people on methods to save their lives, which infallibly destroy them."-ADDISON.

THIS remark of the Roman poet, and the English essayist, is indeed too true! The dread of death prevails, more and more, as the world grows older; and as the luxuries, and the artificial habits of advanced civilization seduce us from the simplicity and the healthful guidance of nature. It must, however, be admitted that every period in the history of mankind from that in which, like the tiger and the wolf, the human savage hunts his prey for the daily support of his existence, to that in which the air, the earth, and the waters yield up their inhabitants and their productions, to be tortured by the art of the cook, for gratifying, if possible, the satiated palate of the fastidious epicure-has its diseases. But to the refinements of high civilization, chiefly, are we indebted for diseases of the stomach and the nervous system-dyspepsia and hypochondriasis; evils which, we might almost suppose, have been raised by Providence, to lower the crest of too exulting prosperity; to rack the morbidly sen

* Continued from No. ccxxvii., page 372.

sitive nerves of the spoiled children of Fortune; and to visit with the dread of the grave the slothful couch of pampered self-indulgence. Nevertheless it is not wealth and prosperity alone that originate these diseases; the very structure of advanced society, its excitements and depressions, its contentions, envyings, jealousies, cares, and anxieties, as well as its thousand real and imaginary evils, create and foster them in an equal degree. As a counterpoise to this dread of death, which these nervous maladies engender, the skill of the physician, or the pretensions of the empiric are eagerly sought after. The physical weapons by which the former combats diseases, too often prove unavailing: whilst the confidence which the presumptuous boldness of the latter inspires, on the contrary, is frequently followed by salutary results. The assistance of neither, however, is requisite in the greater number of the cases which daily occur.

If there have been no excesses of moral or mental excitement, dyspepsia seldom involves those nervous susceptibilities which link it with hypochondriasis; thence it would generally give way to a more tranquil mode of life, and the exercise of ordinary discretion in diet and regimen ; whilst much mischief is often produced by the needless employment of medicines. The object of the present Essay is to demonstrate this fact; and, further, to prove that when dyspepsia becomes chronic, and the sensations of a patient lead him to forego all bodily and mental exertion, and to yield himself up to the morbid impressions which work on his imagination, and pervert his judgment, the evil is not to be overcome by physical remedies, by pills and potions. In such a case it is only those counteracting moral influences which can direct the mind into new channels, and leave nature to effect the cure in her own way, that can prove beneficial. One of the most important, and the most successful of these is travelling.

The advantages of travelling to the dyspeptic, especially when hypochondriasis is grafted upon that disease, is undoubted, and it has always been acknowledged; but the causes of its salutary influence are even at this time little understood. Climate, and the greater steadiness of continental weather permitting invalids to live almost sub pleno Jovis, are supposed to be the great agents of the salutary effects, which the change of place induces; and, undoubtedly, the influence of both is considerable. Other causes, however, more especially those of a mental nature, are the great sources of the curative influence of travelling in the diseases of the digestive organs for which it is recommended. In hypochondriacal dyspepsia, the chief intention of the physician, in recommending travelling, is to abstract the attention of the unhappy sufferer from his bodily sensations.

That the mere direction of attention to any organ of the body will disturb its natural functions, and either lower or exalt its action, according to the state of the mind of the individual at the time, is demonstrated in every day's experience. If the mind be intensely directed to the stomach, even when indigestion is not present, a sensation of uneasiness, accompanied with a feeling of distention and weight is experienced; and, when disease is present, such a concentration of the attention not only aggravates the already existing disturbance of the digestive function, and preys upon the mind and depresses the spirits; but it even affects the nervous system in such a manner as to raise il

lusions of the most incongruous and singular description, which differ from those of insanity merely in the conviction of the patient that they are illusions.

Were the effects of this concentration of attention upon the digestive or any particular organ transitory only, little injury might be supposed to arise from it. But besides often inducing functional, it is, also, the source of physical changes upon organs of vital importance; so that not only disordered sensations, but diseased actions are set up in them. This influence of the mind upon the body is peculiarly striking in the hypochondriac: thus, if his attention has been incidentally directed to the heart, its action becomes hurried, and as his mind is acutely alive to each pulsation, actual palpitation soon ensues; and the continuance or the repetition of this consciousness of an action usually not present to the mind, gradually confirms a habit, which strengthens into positive organic disease of the heart. It is of little consequence whether this mental influence operates by exciting the nerves, and affecting the organs through their agency,-by whatever media it is produced, the effect is the same. It is of more importance, for our purpose, to know that such feelings are often as suddenly removed as they are excited, by any thing which strongly diverts the attention of the sufferer to external objects calculated to attract, either by their novelty or their nature. The constant presentation of such objects to the sight, in travelling, is indeed one of the principal sources of its salubrious influence. It is scarcely necessary to remark, that this beneficial influence of travelling is not confined to dyspepsia complicated with hypochondriasis.

Attention to his sensations is as vividly awakened in the mere dyspeptic as in the hypochondriac; and as much benefit is conferred by weaning it from them in the former as in the latter: for, although the moral faculty is not perverted in simple dyspepsia, yet, the physical derangement of the stomach, and the other organs which aid in the due performance of the digestive function, is aggravated by the constant concentration of the attention on the sensations of the diseased stomach, and the solicitude which is never diverted from the contemplation of its condition. It is vain to anticipate any advantage from the best rules of diet and regimen, whilst the mind is invariably fixed upon the seat of the malady.

To produce any beneficial effect, either from diet or from medicine, every effort must be employed to divert the attention into some channel altogether unconnected with the body. When this cannot be effected, the very dread of the evil is likely to create it; consequently, whatever can dismiss or avert this anticipation is of the utmost importance in the treatment of indigestion.

It is impossible to legislate, imperiously, for the stomach; the mind in a great degree rules its nerves; consequently the absurdity of very strict regulations for diet are daily evinced. The magic wand, which snatched the dishes from the tortured anticipation of the immortal Sancho, is not required. If any rules are to be observed, they must refer rather to the quantity than to the quality of the food; rather to the company in which the meal is taken, than to the dishes upon the table.

How often has every physician had this question addressed to him by

a dyspeptic patient: "I dined out yesterday, and I ate of a variety of dishes, and drank several kinds of wine, and even indulged in a glass of liqueur; how does it happen, doctor! that I have not suffered my usual pains and penalties from this rebellion, from these admixtures, and the infringement of my dietetic rules?" The explanation is less difficult than the conviction of its truth, upon the mind of the dyspeptic. The society in which the meal is taken, the cheerful conversation with which it is accompanied, and the absence of all solicitude respecting its effects, leave the stomach to the natural exercise of its function, and it is consequently performed with an energy which cannot be exerted, when it is interrupted by the interference of the mind. Although the stomach is so extremely sensitive that it displays, to borrow the language of Sir Charles Bell, "an almost intellectual principle of selection," in preventing the imperfectly dissolved, or crude aliments, from passing into the bowels; and in throwing them back for more complete solution or chymification; yet this is performed without the consciousness of the person. It is only when poisons, or powerfully irritating substances, enter the stomach; or when it is filled to a sense of uneasy repletion; or when the attention is intensely fixed upon it, that its operations become objects of perception. The last of these sources of uneasy or painful sensations referred to the stomach is undoubtedly the most powerful; "tout ce qui se passait dans le principal organe de la digestion," says Barrow, a Parisian physician, describing his own case, "je le sentois comme s'il se fut passé sur l'organe du tact, la présence des aliments y étoit perçu, comme elle aurait été sur la main." It is that to which the physician chiefly refers in the management of the hypochondriacal dyspeptic; and for the counteraction of the injurious influence of which, he recommends travelling to his patient.

Like every other remedy, the beneficial effects of travelling on the habits and ailments of the dyspeptic, however, are greatly modified by circumstances. He ought not to travel alone, for when this is the case, memory becomes his companion; averts his attention from the present to the past; covers the surrounding scenery and objects with an impenetrable haze, and opens again the tomb of long forgotten miseries, to poison every joy, and to lead him into a train of the most ruinous retrospection. But neither should the fellow-traveller of the dyspeptic be one who will administer too readily to his caprices; for, although some concessions may be made to them and to his sedentary inclinations in the first instance, yet, firmness is the only method of weaning him from dwelling upon his morbid sensations in the end. But force is not requisite; on the contrary it is deleterious; the dyspeptic, more especially the hypochondriacal dyspeptic, must be led, not driven. At the same time, permitting the patient to indulge too much his love of rest is as injurious as forcing upon him excessive fatigue; indolence of mind is as hurtful as high excitement; thence long stoppages at particular places, as well as continuous, uninterrupted, severe travelling are equally to be avoided. The scenery should be varied; the eye at one time may be refreshed by the verdure of the cultivated and luxuriant vale; at another, the imagination roused by the frowning grandeur of the mountain; or a train of new ideas awakened even beneath the gloomy umbrage of the silent forest: sometimes the busy haunts of men, the crowded

streets of cities, and their moving spectacles, might be judiciously selected to amuse the sight, and arrest the attention. But in every change, whatever can over excite, or exhaust, should be sedulously avoided.

To regard travelling, however, or any one plan of treatment, as alone adequate, in every case of dyspepsia, would be assuming that they all depend upon the operation of similar causes; or, that dyspepsia invariably constitutes one and the same description of disease, without reference to its numerous variations and protean metamorphoses. The necessity of meeting these modifications by corresponding modifications of treatment is obvious. It is only to those cases, however, which imperiously require change of scene, that I am, at present, Mr. Editor, desirous of directing the attention of your readers, and of placing before them two cases strongly illustrative of the beneficial influence of travelling on habits and dispositions opposite as the poles.

The forms of indigestion most common, are those which physicians have termed atonic dyspepsia, or weakened digestion, and irritable dyspepsia, or painful indigestion. It would be out of place here to enter into minute symptomatic details; but a brief and cursory review of the most characteristic features of each of these varieties, may assist the reader to ascertain that form of the disease in which travelling is likely to prove advantageous, and to enable the argument in favour of it to be more clearly understood.

In the first form of the disease, which usually appears at distinct intervals, the patient loses his ordinary relish for food, and suffers from heartburn; his mouth becomes clammy and uncomfortable, his throat husky, and the sight of particular kinds of food excites disgust; he feels no refreshment from sleep, or he dreams, or he is often aroused by cramps in his legs, and awakes in the morning either with headach or with a feeling of lassitude which renders him disinclined to quit his bed. When he gets up, he attempts in vain to clear his vision from a mistiness, which seems to veil every object around him, and he wonders that he experiences a defective acuteness of all the senses: not unfrequently he suffers from a confusion or indistinctness of ideas. These feelings alarm him, and his spirits become flat and vapid. The eye, that index of the stirring soul, which speaks its every movement, is dull, heavy, and inexpressive; whilst the wan paleness of the face, the clammy coolness of the hands and feet, and frequent numbness of the fingers, denote the languid condition of the circulation. The dyspeptic, in this variety of the disease, frequently suffers from sick headach over one eye, most commonly the left, which leaves a sensation of tenderness on the part, and a feeling of general uncomfortableness that frets the temper, engenders peevishness, anxiety, restlessness, a sense of oppression, and an indescribable ennui. Besides these symptoms, an obtuse pain and a sensation of weight are felt at the stomach, as well as an internal heat after a meal. Breakfast, which, as the earliest, should be the most desired of our repasts, is rejected, and often excites nausea; the appetite becomes fastidious, the strength fails, the intellectual powers give way, and the sufferer sinks into a state of apathy; whilst, nevertheless, the nervous system becomes morbidly sensitive to every variation of temperature and every change of weather.

This form of dyspepsia is most frequently observed in the middle