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322 Advertisements, tyc.
The following instance of longevity mentioned in the St. Petersburgh Gazette, is almost incredible. There is living near Polosk, on the frontiers of Luthiania, an old man, named Demetrius Crabowski, who is now 168 years of age. This Russian Saturn has always led the humble but tranquil life of a shepherd, assisted by his two sons, the eldest of whom, Paul, is 120, and the youngest, Anatole, 97 years old. They all enjoy high consideration, as being the oldest family in the country.
JOURNAL OF HEALTH.
The subscriber, assignee of Henry H. Porter, has transferred all the right, title, subscription list and Books of the JOURNAL OF HEALTH to SAMUEL COATE ATKINSON, who has become the Publisher and Proprietor of the same, and is fully authorized to collect all debts and dues owing to the said work. All letters and communications on the subject of said work are to be addressed in future to the said S. C. Atkinson.
Philadelphia, July 7, 1832. Assignee of H. H. Porter.
Is assuming the duties of Publisher of the JOURNAL OF HEALTH, the subscriber presents his respects to its patrons, and trusts they will have no cause to regret the change which has taken place—His experience as publisher of the Saturday Evening Post and Casket for many years past, and his promptness in fulfilling all pledges made to the patrons of those publications is a sufficient guarantee that the Journal of Health, especially as regards its mechanical execution, will not deteriorate in his hands. By a liberal and judicious course in regard to its publication, with a number of improvements which will be adopted at the commencement of the 4th volume, he hopes not only to retain all the patronage now bestowed on the Journal of Health, but to obtain a large accession to the subscription list. It will ever be his ambition to deserve success, and he asks for the support of a liberal community so long only, as his exertions merit it.
The Agents who have had the Journal under their care will oblige the present proprietor by continuing their friendly aid on the same terms as heretofore, and also to act on the same terms as Agents for the Saturday Evening Post and Casket, where there are none already appointed.
The Agents of the Post and Casket are respectfully solicited to extend their aid in favour of the Journal of Health, in obtaining subscriptions, and collecting and remitting arrearages, &c. in their vicinity.
SAMUEL C. ATKINSON, Philadelphia.
* »• Publishers of Newspapers are respectfully requested to notice the Journal, and the recent change, for which they will be entitled to a copy on sending one of their papers containing the notice marked.
Thomas Desilver, jr. Market street, has in press, and will speedily publish, a History of the Epidemic Cholera, and the means of preventing the disease; being a Report of the College of Physicians of Philadelphia, to the Board of Health of the same city: to which is added a full account of the Symptoms and Seats of the disease, and the .Method of Treatment adopted in the different countries in which the Cholera has prevailed.—By John Bell, M. D. and D. F. Condie, M. D.
JOURNAL OF HEALTH.
CONDUCTED BT AIT ASSOCIATION Or PHYSICIANS.
Health—the poor man's riches, the rich man's bliss.
Vol. III. Philadelphia, July 11, 1832. No. 21.
Upon the propriety of a removal to the country at the present season of the year, the advice of a physician is frequently requested. As a general rule, when the circumstances and avocations of an individual are such as to enable him to leave the city without injury to his own or family business, or without a dereliction of his duty to others, the most judicious course is undoubtedly to do so. The mere change of scene—the temporary relaxation from the cares of business, and the enjoyment of bodily exercise in fresh and pure air, render an excursion into the surrounding country, for a few weeks, during the intense heats of summer, in the highest degree favourable to health. But when, as is now the case, our neighbourhood is menaced with the visitation of an epidemical disease, the question is, whether removal into the country will ensure an escape from its attack, the same unqualified answer cannot with prudence be given.
The occurrence of epidemic cholera, it must be recollected, is not confined solely to cities—in the country individuals have been attacked by it as well as in the city. Flying from the latter, then, affords no certain security against the disease—while, on the other hand, in many situations in the country, should an attack be incurred, the chances of its fatal termination will be multiplied, from the much greater difficulty of procuring prompt
Vol. III.—41 323
324 Removal to the Country.
medical assistance. The expediency, therefore, of remaining in the city or removing into the country must depend entirely upon circumstances. Thus the inhabitants of a foul, illy ventilated and crowded city, located in an unhealthy district, would act wisely in deserting its contaminated atmosphere, and taking up their abode, during the prevalence of the epidemic, in some more healthy situation. Under such circumstances, removal to the country is to be strongly recommended.
Even in more healthy and better regulated cities, they who reside in narrow, damp and confined streets, or whose dwellings are in the immediate vicinity of any extensive collection of stagnant water, or are closely surrounded by the crowded and filthy hovels of the depraved and improvident classes of the community, would do well either to remove to a more eligible quarter of the city, or to retire for a season to some healthy situation in the country. But to those who possess all, or even a moderate share of the comforts of life; who reside in those parts of the city where no cause capable of producing disease exists—in a word, those in opulent or respectable circumstances, our advice would be—remain at home!—Observe the rules of temperance in eating and drinking; avoid all unnecessary exposure and fatigue; keep your mind free from alarm and anxiety; and you are even more secure from an attack of the prevailing disease, than you can be by attempting to fly before it. By remaining you have nothing to fear.
It unfortunately happens that the very classes who would be benefitted by a removal into the country, are prevented by the want of means, and they who need not remove are almost the only ones who do.
We should say then, that running off into the country to avoid the disease, is, as a general rule, improper. While it affords no greater degree of security, than is to be obtained by remaining, it has a decidedly injurious influence upon those who must continue stationary. To see the more respectable inhabitants of a city fleeing from it in crowds, and to know that the cause of this flight is the anticipation that it will shortly become smitten with a dreadful pestilential disease, the horrors of which they who remain behind must witness; in all probability themselves become its victims, produces precisely that depression of the mind —that state of gloom and fear, which are among the most powerful of the causes that give rise to an attack of the disease whose presence is so much dreaded, and cannot fail to increase the number of its victims, and in every way augment the evil. The poor—or those who have been suddenly deprived of their support by the general desertion of the city, being left without that kind assistance, that necessary support and commiseration, which they so much need when visited by sickness, and as it The Pleasures of Old Age. 325
were doomed to suffer and to die—a far greater amount of misery is entailed upon them than would be the case, were the citizens generally to remain at home and perform those offices of charity which are enjoined upon them by the religion they profess—even admitting the disease to rage as violently as it did in some of the cities of the North of Europe.
THE PLEASURES OF OLD AGE.
It is the observation of a fine writer, "that an old man, who is not a fool, is the happiest creature in the world;" for after having passed the noon of life in the hurry of business, he sits down in the evening in his easy chair, and, in social converse, or cheerful reflection, enjoys the pleasing retrospect of past occurrences. He recalls to memory all the events of his active life; he reacts, in imagination, the characters he was once fond to personate. Such are the natural and pleasing amusements of his solitary moments; and in his social hours happy in the enjoyment of the friends that revere and love him, and blest, perhaps, in the sweet attentions of a virtuous and affectionate family, he entertains himself and them with a narrative of past achievements, when his heart was fired by the love of virtue, animated by the pursuit of its attendant pleasures, and ardent for the acquisition of honourable fame. The various scenes, and trials, and adventures of days that can return no more, afford an inexhaustible fund of retrospective pleasure; a useful lesson for the youth who surround him. The studies of his early days, that now contribute their stores for the delight and ornament of his age; or the years of honest industry, by which he has gained the blessings of competency, these, in review, afford him inexpressible satisfaction. Or, perhaps, his life was more active still: his valour was distinguished in defence of the liberties of his country, or his voice raised in her councils to direct her onward in the road of happiness and peace. Now in his later days he relates with transport, in the presence of his friends or of his offspring, the victories he aided in achieving—the sufferings he endured, and those dangers that are now succeeded by the pleasures of repose. He points out each step by which his country arose to greatness, and every contest by which in the legislative halls improvements were wrung from the friends of ancient prejudices. His delighted audience participate in his satisfaction, and heighten it by their sympathy for the past, and their heartfelt happiness in the present.
The good old man is then sensible to pleasures that are peculiar to this period of his life. Secure in the harbour of tranHints for the Season.
quillity, he revolves in his mind, with unspeakable satisfaction, the adventures and labours of an active and useful life—the calamities and trials that are now no more, he reviews with the glow of gratitude and joy. So powerful, indeed, is the influence of contrast and security, that it may not improperly be termed the nurse of happiness—it teaches to know the value of our present enjoyments, by comparing them with the sufferings we once endured, and the misery from which we have happily escaped.
It is true, as Tully justly observes, that all men are not like the Scipio's and Fabii, who could recount cities captured, victories won, and triumphs obtained—that all have not the satisfaction of looking back upon a life spent in the service of their country—in enlarging the limits of human knowledge, or in the prosecution of some glorious work, communicating blessings to the whole family of man. But to days passed in virtue, decency and tranquillity, it is yet in the power of all to add the pleasures of a serene and peaceful old age. With respect to all the rational and healthy pleasures of existence, the consciousness of a good fame, the respect and commerce of virtuous men, and the contemplation of a happy immortality, these are enjoyments for which our capacities are enlarged and fitted by increase of years. While we are indulged by the divine permission as the reward of a temperate and prudent course of life, with the blessings of health, a wise man will consider the latter part of life as abounding with an equal amount of comforts and enjoyments as any previous portion of it. The recollection of a well spent youth, and the many active scenes of middle life, fills the mind with a pleasure not only the most elegant in itself, but pure, tranquil and unalloyed.
HINTS FOR THE SEASON.
The present hints are chiefly for the inhabitants of cities. Our friends in the country shall be attended to in due time:
"Another thing to be observed, in summer, and especially in time of pestilence, is, the guarding the body, but by all means, the head, from the direct rays of the sun. Nothing is more dan
ferous than the burning heat of a clear sun, in sultry weather, t often produces sudden death, by means of an apoplexy, instances of which are related under the year 1752, to have happened at Charleston; and the same is said to have taken place there, the summer past. In other cases, the effect is, what is called a stroke of the sun, 'coup de soleil,' which is not always fatal, but very dangerous.