Part 19 (1/2)
The letters in reply, however, only breathed the affectionate overflowings of kind hearts. Mrs. Glenallan sent her motherly blessing to George; and Emily, in addition to a long communication to her brother, wrote to Acme as to a beloved sister; begging her to hasten George's return to England, that they might meet one, in whom they must henceforward feel the liveliest interest.
”How kind they all are,” said George. ”I only wish we _were_ with them.”
”And so do I,” said Acme. ”How dearly I shall love them all.”
”George!” said Sir Henry, abruptly, ”do you know, I think it is quite time we should move farther north. The weather is getting most oppressive; and we have nearly exhausted the lions of Naples.”
”With all my heart,” replied George. ”I am ready to leave it whenever you please.”
On Sir Henry's considering the best mode of conveyance, it occurred to him, that some danger might arise from the malaria of the Pontine marshes; and indeed, Rome and its environs were represented, at that time, as being by no means free from this unwelcome visitant.
Sir Henry enquired if there were any English physicians resident in Naples; and having heard a high eulogium pa.s.sed by the waiter, on a Doctor Pormont, ”who attended the n.o.ble Consul, and my Lord Rimington,” ventured to enclose his card, with a note, stating that he would be glad of five minutes' conversation with that gentleman.
In a short time, Doctor Pormont was introduced.
He was a tall man, with very marked features, and a deeply furrowed brow; whose longitudinal folds, however, seemed rather the result of thought or of study, than of age. The length of his nose was rivalled by the width of his mouth. When he spoke, he displayed two rows of very clean and very regular teeth, but which individually narrowed to a sharp point, and gave his whole features a peculiarly unpleasing expression. His voice was husky--his manners chilling--his converse that of a pedant.
Doctor Pormont was in many respects a singular man. From childhood, he had been remarkable for stoicism of character. He possessed none of the weak frailties, or gentle sympathies, which ordinarily belong to human nature.
His blood ran cold, like that of a fish. Never had he been known to lose his equanimity of deportment.
A species of stern principle, however, governed his conduct; and his very absence of feeling, made him an impartial physician, and one of the most successful anatomists of the day.
What brought him to bustling, sunny Naples, was an unfathomed mystery. Once there, he acquired wealth without anxiety, and patients without friends.
Amongst the many anecdotes, current amongst his professional brethren, as to the blunted feelings of Doctor Pormont, was one,--related of him when he was lecturer at a popular London inst.i.tution. A subject had been placed on the anatomist's table, for the purpose of allowing the lecturer, to elucidate to the young students, the advantages of a post mortem examination, in the determination of diseases. The lecturer dissected as he proceeded, and was particularly clear and luminous. He even threw light on the previous habits of the deceased, and showed at what period of life, the germ of decay was probably forming.
A friend casually enquired, as they left the lecture room, whether the subject had been a patient of his own.
”No!” replied the learned lecturer, ”the body is that of my cousin and schoolfellow, Harry Welborne. I attended his funeral, at some little distance from town, a couple of days ago. My servant must have given information to the exhumer. It is clear the body was removed from the vault on the same evening.”
Sir Henry Delme briefly explained to Doctor Pormont, his purpose in sending for him. He stated that he was anxious to take his advice, as to the best mode of proceeding to Rome, and also as to the best sleeping place for the party;--that he had a wholesome dread of the malaria, but that one of his party being a female, and another an invalid, he thought it might be as well to sleep one night on the road. Regarding all this, he deferred to the advice and superior judgment of the physician.
”Judgment,” said Doctor Pormont, ”is two-fold. It may be defined, either as the faculty of arriving at the knowledge of things, which may be effected by the synthetic or a.n.a.lytic method; or it may be considered as the just perception of them, when they are fully indagated.
”Our problem seems to resolve itself into two cases.
”First: does malaria exist to an unusual and alarming extent, on the route you purpose taking?
”Secondly: the existence conceded--what is the best method to escape the evil effects that might attend its inhibition into the human system?
”Let us apply the synthetic method to our first case.”
The Doctor prefaced his arguments, by a long statement, as to the gradual commencement, and progress of malaria;--showed how the atmosphere, polluted by exhalations of water, impregnated with decaying and putrified vegetable matter, gave forth miasmata; which he described as being particles of poison in a volatile state.
He alluded to the opinion held by many, that the disease owed its origin to the ravages of the barbarians, who destroying the Roman farms and villas, had made _desert_ what were _fertile_ regions.
He traced it from the time of the late Roman Emperors, to that of the dominion of the Popes, whose legislative enactments to arrest the malady, he failed not to comment on at length.
He explained the uncertainty which continued to exist, as to the boundaries of the tract of country, in which the disease was rife; and then plunged into his argument.