Henry Livingston, Jr.
Henry Livingston's Prose

New-York Magazine; or, Literary Repository
Universal Hospital
Vol. II No. IV, p.222; Apr 1791; by R and Wizard

For the New-York Magazine.

Messrs Editors:

You may publish the following copy of an advertisement I lately met with in my sojournings.


The subscriber, with whose education no pains has been spared-- who has the whole works of Duns Scotus, Jacob Behmen, and Dr. Sangrado by heart--has long been an adept in the almost-forgotten, never-enough-to-be-applauded, golden science of astrology--who has analyzed the Garcina Mangostana under the vertical rays of a tropical sun, examined the winteranea aromatica upon the cliffs on which it grew within twenty degrees of the frozen pole, and from the gloomy caverns of Derbyshire surprised the world with the inestimable, miraculous terra ponderosa -- who, in pursuit of an Arabian nostrum among the ruins of Palmyra, was upon the brink of suffering an excruciating impalement as a spy -- has investigated every university in Europe -- was personally acquainted with Hannah Stevens, negro Caesar, and Dr. Yeldal -- and, at this moment corresponds with all the benevolent dames in America -- who knew the difference between motherworth and old man's pepper, has erected a superb edifice for the purposes of an universal hospital; where, besides eradicating the host of maladies which human frames are heirs to, he effects cures for mental disorders in a manner not less wonderful than perfectfully efficacious.

To induce the public not to consider him in the light of a pompous pretender, he particularizes, in a few examples, his method of performing cures of inform minds: for instance, if a young lady, deeply in love, applies for relief, he takes three or four sighs, warm from her heart, melts them in a soft pomatum gallipot, with a little rosin scraped from a violin and virgin wax, makes the whole into a salve; a small plaister of which, put upon the tip of her tongue, will extract all the venom from her bosom, and cause it to evaporate in colloquial nonsence.

Coquetry he relieves by a process diametrically opposite to the aforegoing; by taking a few energetic declarations immediately as they fall from the lips, and forging them into the form of a magnet: this he applys under the stays next her heart -- sympathy does the rest.

The prude is cured by simply bringing her mouth into contact with that of a coquette when the latter is above mediocrity in her character: this process is called in Cochin-China, inbibition.

Pride, in men or women, is eradicated, by mixing half a dozen whistles of the humility, (a meek little bird of the snipe kind) with an ounce of the honey of the humble bee, and cramming a pellet of it in each nostril, when in their haughtiest distension.

If a husband is morose, the kindest expostulations of his wife must be tied up in a small blue silk bag, and kept warm in his bosom; if he is jealous, he must take three scruples of Shakespeare's Othello, reduced to an impalpable powder, and diet himself and spouse upon oatmeal gruel: if he is hen-peck'd, he may live a fortnight upon soup made of the hearts of Bantam cocks, and read Catherine and Petruchio twice every day.

He compels inconstant swains to employ themselves without the least intermission in building cages for turtle doves; and nymphs afflicted with the same malady, to sit and look on the whole time.

That the under-written is exceedingly modest (although by his above professions, some might be led to suppose the contrary) appears by his openly declaring, that, bending as he is under the pressure of experimental and theoretical information yet he knows of no medicant that will operate upon a shrew; he has distilled every plant of every name -- examined the whole kingdome of metals, ores and fossils, and put every element to the torture for this purpose, but all in vain.

His pay is the satisfaction resulting from his agency in lightening some of the burdens incident to humanity, and eradicating a few of the thorns which but too plentifully spring up and mar the path of earth's poor pilgrims.


New-York Magazine; or, Literary Repository
The Happy Vale
pp.222-223; Apr 1791; by R


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