One member of his family, a favorite son, was suspicious of coffee. He himself had abandoned it long before, and had thus placed himself in a position to observe its effects on others. His father used it very strong, he said; and had used it in this way for a long time. He even ventured, at length, to express his fears to his father. "Nonsense, my son," said the father; "do you think coffee is powerful enough to give a man a lame knee? Why, the whole world--I mean the whole civilized world--use it; and do they all have stiff knees?" "Perhaps not," said the son; "but almost every coffee-drinker has, sooner or later, some ailment about him, that may very possibly have its origin in this source. Our troubles, as you yourself are accustomed to say, do not spring out of the ground. Coffee, as the best authorities tell us, is a slow poison; and if it is so, its effects must, at some time, be manifested." "Ay, a very slow poison this coffee must be, my son," said the half-indignant father; "for I have used it pretty freely forty years, and am not dead yet. But to be serious for a moment, Henry, do you really believe that such a small transgression as this, even if it could be proved to be a transgression at all, would be the cause of so much suffering?" "You admit, then, that your troubles may possibly be the result of transgression, and that they did not spring out of the ground." "Oh yes, I suppose it must be so; but there is such a strange disproportion between the transgression and the penalty, in the case you mention, that I cannot for one moment believe any thing about it. Why, what rational man in the world will believe that a little coffee, once a day, will entail upon a person severe rheumatism?" "To what larger transgression, my dear father, will you be more ready to refer it? You do not use tobacco, or rum, or opium; and I am happy in being able to say that you never did. You are no tea-drinker. You are no worshipper of the apothecary's shop. You have not, so far as I know, strained your knee, by over exertion, either in labor or amusement Yet, here you are a sufferer; and you have suffered for months. Now, how do you account for it?" "There is no possibility of accounting for it, my son, and why should we talk about it? If any thing can be done to cure it, I am sure I shall be glad; but though I admit that the complaint may have had a cause--and indeed _must_ have had--I do not think we shall ever be able to trace it out." The son still adhered to the opinion that the coffee was the cause of the father's sufferings; and there was reason for believing that the father was more than half convinced of it himself; only that he was too proud to confess it. He concluded by asking his father if he would like to consult me on the subject--to which he cheerfully consented.