ing from such a variety of circumstances, would be as reasonable as
applying splints to an arm, when the thigh happens to be fractured; but
enough, we would hope, has been said to disabuse the mind of the public
of a predilection for these pretenders. Dyspepsia is a disease that has
existed for ages, and through ages has it readily been cured. In its
simple form there is no mystery about it, and when it becomes
complicated, it requires more than the knowledge of a quack to master
it. Confidence in a medical attendant, and an adherence to his
directions, will surely suffice now, as in former times; and if the
public will restrain a longing after novelty, and abandon those "who
rather talk than act, and rather kill than cure," in short, who work
upon their prejudices by artifice, we shall hear less of dyspepsia,
simply because it exists too frequently but in their own fancies. True,
there is a certain class, with such mental, as well as bodily
infirmities, who, worn down by depraved habits, or suffering under
weakened intellects, will permit the wildest chimeras to haunt them;
hypochondriacs may be met with every day, and these may be fit patients
for the charlatan, or legally subjected to the tickling, pickling, and
ironing of Mr. Halsted: extraordinary maladies may justify extraordinary
experiments.

The absurd and improper treatment proposed in the work we have noticed,
can afford but little hope to any but the hypochondriacal dyspeptic; he
may fly to any measures, however desperate or ludicrous; for "a mind
diseased no medicine can cure." Let others, however, who cannot plead a
malady of the mind as an excuse for resorting to such practice, be
informed, that in most of the affections arising from, or confounded
with dyspepsia, it is unavailing, and may prove injurious. There are
many diseases which it is impossible that Mr. Halsted can distinguish
from dyspepsia, and to which he would apply his irons and bottles,
towels and vinegar, at the risk of his patient's safety.

His views may be sound if adapted to the animal economy of a horse, but
are certainly unsuitable to the constitution of a man.

We would say, then, to the public, in conclusion; be cautious how you
trust your health and lives with those who neither comprehend the nature
of the one, nor the value of the other--and who would exclaim behind
your backs, with Shakspeare's Autolycus, merely altering the description
of his wares:--

"Ha! ha! what a f