The doctor : a lay sermon for working people / by the author of Rab and his friends.

  • Brown, John, 1810-1882.
Date:
[between 1870 and 1879?]
Catalogue details

Licence: Public Domain Mark

Credit: The doctor : a lay sermon for working people / by the author of Rab and his friends. Source: Wellcome Collection.

Provider: This material has been provided by The Royal College of Surgeons of England. The original may be consulted at The Royal College of Surgeons of England.

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    [Edited by self-respect; it raises you in your own eye, in your neighbour’s, and, what is best, in your God’s eye, because it is doing wbat is right. The “man of independent mind,” be he never so poor, is “king of men for a’ that;” ay, and “for twice and mair for a’ thatand to pay his way is one of the proudest things a poor man can say, and he can say it oftener than he thinks he can ; and then let me tell you, as a bit of cool, worldly wisdom, that your Doctor will do you all the more good, and make a better job of your cure, if he gets something, some money for his pains ; it is human nature and common sense, this. It is wonderful how much real kindness and watching and attendance and cleanliness you may get for ten shillings a week. Nursing is a much better article at that,—much, than at nothing a week. But I pass on to the other ways of paying or rewarding your Doctor, and, above aU, to gratitude. Honey is not sweeter in your mouths, and light is not more pleasant to your eyes, and music to your ears, and a warm, cosy bed is not more welcome to your wearied legs and head, than is the honest deep gratitude of the poor to the young Doctor. It is his glory, his reward; he fills himself with it, and wraps himself aU round with it as with a cloak, and goes on in his work, happy and hearty ; and the gratitude of the poor is worth the having, and worth the keeping, and worth the remembering. Twenty years ago I attended old Sandie Campbell’s wife in a fever, in Big Hamilton’s Close, in the Grassmarket—two worthy, kindly souls they were and are. By God’s blessing, the means I used saved “oor Kirsty’s” life, and I made friends of these two for ever; Sandie would have fought for me if need be, and Kirsty would do as good. I can count on them as my friends, and when I pass the close-mouth in the West Port, where they now live, and are thriving, keeping their pigs, and their hoary old cuddie and cart, I get a curtsy from Kirsty, and see her look after me and turn to the women beside her, and I know exactly what she is saying to them about “ Dr. Broon.” And when I meet old Sandie, with his ancient and long-lugged friend, driving the drafif from the distillery for his swine, I see his grey eye brighten and glisten, and he looks up and gives his manly and cordial nod, and goes on his way, and I know that he is saying to himself, ‘ ‘ God bless him! he saved my Kirsty’s fife,” and he runs back in his mind aU those twenty past years, and lays out his heart on all he remem- bers, and that does him good and me too, and nobody any iU. Therefore, give your gratitude to your Doctor, and remember him like honest Sandie; it wiU not lose its reward and it costs you nothing; it is one of those things you can give and never be a bit the poorer, but rather the richer. One person 1 would earnestly warn you against, and that is the Quack Doctor. If the real Doctor is a sort of God of healing, or rather our God’s cobbler for the body, the Quack is the devil for the body, or rather the devil’s servant against the body. And like his father he is a great liar and cheat. He offers you what he cannot give. When- ever you see a medicine that cures everything, be sure it cures nothing ; and remember, it may kiU. The devil promised our Saviour all the kingdoms of the world if he would faU down and worship him ; now this was a lie, he could not give him any such thing. Neither can the Quack give you his kingdoms of health, even though you worship him as he best Ukes, by paying him for his trash ; he is dangerous and dear, and often deadly,—have no deahngs with him. We have our duties to one another, yours to me, and mine to you; but we have all our duty to one else—to Almighty God, who is beside us at this very moment—who followed us aU this day, and knew all we did and didn’t do; what we thought and didn’t think—who will watch over us aU this night—^who is continually doing us good —who is waiting to be gracious to us—who is the great Physician, whose saving health will heal all our diseases, and redeem our life from destruction, and crown us with loving-kindness and tender mercies, —who can make death the opening into a better Hfe, the very gate of heaven; that same death which is to all of us the most awful and most cer- tain of all things, and at whose door sits its dread- ful king, with that javelin, that sting of his, which is sin, our own sin. Death would be nothing without sin, no more than falling asleep in the dark to awake to the happy light of the morning. Now, I would have you think of your duty to this great God, our Father in Heaven; and I would have you to remember that it is your duty to trust Him, to believe in Him. If you do not, your soul will be shipwrecked, you will go down in terror and darkness to perdition. It is your duty to obey Him. Whom else in all this world should you obey, if not Him ? and who else so easily pleased, if we only do obey ? It is your duty to speak the truth to Him, not that He needs any man to teU Him anything. He knows everything about everybody; nobody can keep a secret from Him. But He hates lies ; He abhors a falsehood. He is the God of truth, and must be dealt honestly with, in sincerity and godly fear; and, lastly, you must in a certain sense reward Him. You cannot give Him money, for the silver and gold, the cattle upon a thousand hiUs, are all His already, but you can give Him your grateful lives ; you can give Him your hearts ; and, as old Mr. Henry says, “ thanksgiving is good, but thanks living is better.” One word more; you should call your Doctor early. It saves time ; it saves suffering ; it saves trouble ; it saves hfe. If you saw a fire beginning in your house, you would put it out as fast as you could. You might perhaps be able to blow out with your breath what in an hour the fire-engine could make nothing of. So is it with disease and the Doctor. A disease in the morning when be- ginning, is hke the fire beginning ; a dose of medi- cine, some simple thing, may put it out, when if left alone, by night, it may be raging hopelessly, hke the fire, if left alone, and leaving your body dead and in ruins in a few hours. So, eah in the Doctor soon ; it saves him much trouble, and may save you your hfe. And let me end by asking you to cah in the Great Physician soon ; to call Him instantly, to caU Him in time ; there is not a moment to lose. He is waiting to be called; He is standing at the door;' He will make no delay. But He must be called—He may be called too late.