The Natural Cure of Consumption, Constipation, Bright's Disease, Neuralgia Part 10

"Others, especially those whose occupations afford little or no exercise, as writers, artists, official persons, etc., prefer from time to time to live upon fruits alone, in order to clear their blood and thus prevent illness. Dr. Richard Nagel, of Burman, was one of the first to try such a cure, and with brilliant success. As he is a learned man, and his health rules are accepted by most German vegetarians, I take the liberty to give you an abridged translation of them:

"I. Take often during the day a drink of pure cool fresh water; rain-water is best. Vegetarians who live plainly and upon fruits only, have very little thirst.

"II. Wash the whole body with cool fresh water every morning before breakfast; poor-blooded persons may use in winter a little warm, but never hot water.

"III. All kinds of sweet fruits and roots are to be commended in an uncooked form. These are so nourishing that we can live upon fruit alone.

(Dr. Nagel, himself, so lived in 1871, from February 25th to April 7th, that is during forty-one winter days, and you know that our German winter is much colder than yours. During this time he was extremely well, and worked hard as a physician and writer)."]

Further on, and after describing the two-years-old baby's remarkable health and perfect appet.i.te: "He never causes me the least trouble; is always ready to eat a good breakfast, taking just what we do, and is truly a marvel of sweet infant life." After a brief reference to the persecutions received from their neighbors at the first: ... "But that is nothing; we have lived it all down, and we are in better health to-day, all of us, than any family about, for many a mile. Why, they are all complaining of _colds_ now, and yet we have the loveliest climate and the most delightful atmosphere under the sun. We never have any colds, or neuralgia, or rheumatism. Whatever may be said in derision of our diet, and, of course, there are more or less remarks, we have the best of it anyway; and, oh, the load of expense, labor and care and anxiety that is removed! The children are harmonious and happy, devoting their spare time to useful pursuits--we all have so much more spare time now," etc., etc.

From another letter:

"... But I must hasten to answer your queries. 1st. As to how we prepare our food in winter. We have apples, raisins, oranges, and figs, which need no preparation. Wheat and rye we grind first in a large mill and finish off in a spice mill, and usually eat it dry with juicy fruits. I can eat rye, apples, nuts, and raisins, and make a good meal. We confine ourselves to what we raise here, chiefly because we think it best. We raise our own peanuts, and if you will take them _unroasted_, and grind with your grain, you will get a very palatable, strengthening food, alone or with raisins; they contain a very sweet oil which, as we learn, is beginning to be appreciated in England. I prefer the peanuts in this form because they need to be very finely masticated. I can work longer after such a breakfast and not feel hungry than anything else I have tried. We have delicious musk-melons now, also water-melons, but the latter are deteriorating, being out of season. Our ripe tomatoes are nearly over; after these are gone we shall use our dried peaches, pears, and apples, merely soaked in cold water until soft--not sloppy. We use rain-water in winter. I make a salad for dinner, often, as follows: lettuce washed and cut small, a few ripe tomatoes peeled and cut up, and one or two green peppers cut fine; pouring over a dressing of raisin syrup, made by soaking black raisins for twenty-four hours, and straining. This salad I vary by subst.i.tuting celery for lettuce. I a.s.sure you it is a most healthful dish, and so sweet and nice with rye. We use oatmeal soaked for twelve hours in just enough water to soften it, and then well beaten; with either raisins [grapes] or dried fruits it is very delicious. I did not at first like rye, but after a little we all came to regard it the sweetest grain we have. The children are very fond of cauliflower--just the flour part--and green pease, fresh-picked are a great dish with us. Some like radishes and garden cress and a few things of that nature. I prefer fruits with my grain, and we can have them fresh, of some sort, all the year round.

Strawberries come in about March--indeed, we have a few even now [February]. I'm going to make a 'natural fruitcake,' this week, for our little girl's birthday. I shall send a piece by post to Mrs. Page, with full directions for making it. We had one at New Year's, and even those who live on cooked food p.r.o.nounced it 'as good as they ever tasted.' But very little of our time, however, is taken up, usually, with the preparation of our food; only, on special occasions, we amuse ourselves a little in such ways, for the children's sake. At all times, however, we have a good variety of food; in fact, too much, I sometimes think. We eat more in quant.i.ty than others, but a large proportion is fruit, which furnishes all our liquid food except fresh water. We all enjoy our food _thoroughly_; the children never ask for anything between meals [two meals only], only baby comes as regularly as possible for an apple at half-past eleven--of course he gets it."

The following letter from a veteran hygienist refers to the family whose history I have been relating.

MY DEAR DR. PAGE:

Your letter of February 13th, enclosing letters from Mr. and Mrs. Hinde for us to read and to make extracts from for _The Laws_, came duly to hand. I have read them with great interest, for they do but add to my conviction that, as yet, the divinely ordained mode of living for man on earth has received, in the minds of so-called hygienists, small conception, and in the life of the best of us comparatively poor ill.u.s.tration, and, therefore, just such experience as these dear people are having in their search for better methods of realizing, developing, and making serviceable spiritual power are of great interest to me.

They always have been.

It has been a matter of great regret with me, that being an incurably diseased man, and being shut up to the necessity of working up, to the best degree possible for me, a revolution in the thought and conduct of people at large, in matters pertaining to their life on earth, I have not been able physically nor circ.u.mstantially to carry out my life as I have wanted to do. I have done some things, but always under circ.u.mstances that endangered my available power to live and work, while making such transitions as I was determined to make.

I have settled several principles which enter as const.i.tuent elements into the philosophy of life of the human organism.

Among them I may mention two: One is, the changes from bad to good, or from worse to better, can never be made reconstructively, except under the policy which governs construction. Now, as all growth of any living organism, or any part of it, is, relatively speaking, slow, so all reparation of any injured part in such organism relatively has to be slow.

Reconstruction, therefore, is slow if according to law. This of itself speaks condemningly of the system of drug medication, because everywhere do drug doctors seek to produce changes from bad to good, or from worse to better, rapidly. This is unphilosophical, and, therefore, can be, on the whole, only open to criticism as being bad practice.

Another is, that where morbid conditions have existed until they have become chronic, and the organism has become adjusted thereto, changes from the abnormal to the normal can not be made without aggravation of those conditions. I have never known a person to go from chronic derangements of any organ in his body to normal conditions of it, without pa.s.sing through an acute stage,[81] and this acute stage is critical in its nature, subjecting the organ to added liability for the time, may be subjecting the whole organism to it. Thousands of persons die every day under medical treatment in this country from badly-managed critical changes through which they have to pa.s.s.

[Footnote 81: This was ill.u.s.trated in the case of Mrs. Hinde, who says of her first experience: "I fully expected suffering as a consequence, and so there was for a time; but it proved a blessing in disguise."--AUTHOR.]

Thirdly, I am satisfied that of all the diseases with which doctors have to deal, and of which persons die, ninety-five per cent. of them have their origin in bad dietetic indulgence, and in deviations from right way of living, caused directly by, and to be attributed to, bad habits of eating and drinking. If you take a hundred diseases, as they are called, and study the predisposing and the provoking causes to their production, you will find that at least ninety-five per cent. have their origin in derangements of the stomach and the organs that are in direct sympathy with it.

I take it upon me to say on my platform very frequently, and I repeat the same as I would repeat it from any public platform if I were talking to a public audience: Give me the right and the power, by and with the consent of any given population, whether one thousand or one million, to control their dietetic conditions, and I will take care of their diseases, and, in less than the life of a generation, will banish from their midst seven-eighths of all the diseases now common to physicians in their practice; will stop the diseases, and deaths that grow out of a prevalence of these diseases and their methods of treatment; will put an end to the vices and the crimes everywhere extant, and which it is so difficult for society and government to manage, and thoroughly revolutionize the physical and moral status of such people.

We have to go to the bottom of things in order to get to the top of things, for the home of the eternal righteousness is so high that no ladder can reach it, unless its lower end rests on bed-rock. Who builds his house on quicksand runs the risk of his life. Who climbs to the skies by any false means of ascent that he may seek to establish, will find his fate foreshadowed in the simple fact that he does not commence his ascent from a secure foundation.

Yours very truly, JAMES C. JACKSON.

Mr. Isaac B. Rumford, and son, hard-working farmers, of Bakersfield, Cal., have lived strictly on the "natural diet" for upwards of two years. Mr.

Rumford has been a chronically-diseased man for many years; now, however, he is so far improved as to be able to do, as he says, "a good day's work." "It is doing for me," he writes, "what I have been seeking and sorrowing after, vainly until now, for twenty years--giving me health. My son also finds it a perfect diet, and would not readily exchange it for any other; indeed, we both enjoy our food more than formerly on the old system. By another year," he adds, "I shall be able to give you still more information on this subject, as others are beginning to be impressed with the advantages of this regimen." (See Appendix.)

A. R. B., of New York city, has lived chiefly on uncooked grain and fruit for upwards of a year; and his young wife, also, has tried it to a considerable extent. Two years ago Mrs. B. was threatened with consumption, and was told by her physician that unless she changed her diet (she was then beginning the vegetarian regimen) she would certainly not live a year. She "needed meat and milk in abundance," he said. But she only lived the more abstemiously, and on coa.r.s.e bread, with fruit, chiefly, and, during the past year, has eaten considerable uncooked "bread," and all symptoms of her disease have disappeared. Mr. B. had nasal catarrh; but this has disappeared, and he now finds himself thoroughly nourished and better able than ever before to perform his duties. His diet consists of two meals,--7 A.M. and 6 P.M.,--and with but little variation, the two combined make about a half cupful each, wheat and oat groats, with five or six nice apples. His appet.i.te has become sufficiently normal to enable him to enjoy this diet fully. This is in winter. In summer less grain and more fruit.

As bearing upon the supposed difficulties in the way of introducing the natural diet, should any choose to adopt it, I can not forbear relating a little incident of recent occurrence: For some weeks past, I have been living exclusively, and with great satisfaction, upon this diet. In a conversation upon the subject, a friend expressed, along with some surprise at my statements as to the gustatory pleasures of this diet and its completeness for nutrifying the body, a curiosity to know just how it would seem to sit down to a meal without a single dish of cooked food, nor any odor of smoking viands about. "Very good," I said, "dine with us to-morrow, and bring the children." This he promised, and on the following day, Sunday, he came up with his two children, a boy of seven and a girl of three years. Nothing was said to them by their father before, nor by any one after their arrival, as to the kind of food to be set before them, they were simply invited out to dinner, and antic.i.p.ated a good time. The injudicious comments, or "chaffing," of parents and friends, will very easily "set" children against what would naturally be their own inclinations if given a fair chance, without having their minds prejudiced, I mean, by the notions, or the dyspeptic idiosyncracies of their elders. At 4 P.M. the table was set, but with no extras on account of company, although here "extras" would imply no additional trouble nor, perhaps, expense. There were dates,--"Persian," or the kind which are in regular tiers and handled comfortably,--walnuts, filberts, raisins, a variety of apples, and, for bread, a fruit-dish containing "oat groats."

The latter was served as the first course, the children eating of this natural bread with every appearance of satisfaction, as did all the company, a few teaspoonfuls each. All united in calling it sweet and good.

Then came walnuts and raisins; some added filberts, others took only the latter, after which, dates, and then, for dessert, apples; of these, one or two each were eaten. In the midst of the nuts and raisins, I may add, and what surprised my visitor more than all else, both children _asked_, voluntarily, for "a few more oats," which they received and ate with a gusto! As we arose from the table, my friend (a banker, by the way, and a "good liver,") said, "There, I can truly say that I have never eaten a more satisfactory dinner; taken all in all, this has been a model meal."

"How about the children?" I asked, of him, but they answered; "I have had a splendid dinner," said the boy. "I've had a splendid dinner," chorused the little three-year-old. The father added (what was in my own mind), that he enjoyed the meal all the more because of the non-necessity for restricting the children in any manner: there was no occasion for caution--no "mustn't eat so fast," no "I'm afraid you are not chewing your food thoroughly," "No, dear, no more of the preserves,--they will hurt you," nor any nuisance of the sort; nor any risk in consequence; and I remarked, with my friend's entire acquiescence, that, often as I had observed them, both in their home and at my own table, never had I seen them so apparently satisfied in every respect, from the beginning to the end of a meal; that, in fact, they had never enjoyed a meal in so utterly unrestricted a manner; and at the same time, they arose from the table with no indication of surfeit--no heaviness, nor succeeding sleepiness or peevishness, as we often witness with children after an ordinary dinner.

Here was a delicious and ample midwinter dinner for six at a total cost of less than the meat alone for a mixed meal,--with no brewing, baking or fuming-up the home, or heating up and using up its mistress in the preparation, and clearing away of the meal, not to mention the other injurious effects of an ordinary "company dinner." A few weeks later, in response to an invitation from my little guests, I had the pleasure of a return-dinner of the same sort, and a Christmas (1882) dinner at that, at which a larger company a.s.sembled, and all p.r.o.nounced it complete; and the servants did not complain of being overworked--nor underfed. One of these was overheard to say, "_Dessert_'s good enough for me!"

I would ask all prudent parents, Are you not often disturbed about the little ones' diet--about the pie, cake, pudding, etc., and are they not frequently made ill by "over-indulgence," as it is called, in these things? How can you expect a little, growing child, with an appet.i.te like that of a shark (if hot, melting viands, or artificial sweets are before them), with no sort of physiological knowledge, in fact a normal and proper disgust for anything of the sort, no idea of prudence, but only a dread of your frequent and necessary cautions,--how can you expect a child, with mouth full of hot bread,--or any bread,--with b.u.t.ter, milk, or sauce, or mashed potatoes, garnished with gravy turkey, stuffing, and cranberry, all melting in his mouth, to "chew" what requires no chewing and can not be made wholesome by chewing, and "hold" what will rush away into the stomach as though impelled by an all-controlling force? It can not be done, you can not do it yourselves, and as for the young ones, it is the refinement of cruelty to attempt it;--it means dissatisfaction, discomfort, and, often, the destruction of what should be a happy season, to be perpetually badgering them about it; it is unnatural and wrong. Give your children the sort of food you think best for them, and let them enjoy it. If this can not be done with safety, the fault is with the food, not with them.

The best way to effect a change in an obnoxious law, as has been well said, is to enforce the law. The same principle holds in diet: If you find that you are furnishing a sort of food which, eaten unrestrictedly and in their own way, makes your children sick or endangers their health, give them something better. At the meal of which I have been speaking, there was no restraint, no cautions, nor occasion for any: the food was of that strictly natural sort which, while requiring to be well masticated, itself enforced the law. The sharp teeth of the children cut the oats perfectly; there was no stimulation, nor temptation to hurry the food into the stomach without masticating it, no feverish appetency, as with hot, highly-seasoned viands--all wanted to chew the food as much as it "wanted to be" chewed, and, consequently, no appreciable amount of it entered the stomach unprepared for stomach-digestion. For the first time in the lives of these children, since they were weaned, could this be said of them. It can not be said of a single child in America, or elsewhere, who sits at a table supplied with ordinary food. What results from this unnatural manner of alimentation? Indigestion, inevitably, indicated by various symptoms, as, for example, flatulency which is popularly regarded as entirely natural, the odorous emanations from the younger fry being considered evidence of indiscretion instead of what it really is--disease. And what from this? Blood-poisoning, as surely; with aches, pains, feverish spells, with influenza (popularly called "a cold"), which, as can not be too much emphasized, is, strictly speaking, instead of a disease, the effort of Nature to "cure" a disease which otherwise would become so deep-seated as to demand a "run of fever" to eliminate it, and all manner of physical ailments.

I am often asked, What const.i.tutes the scrofulous diathesis, so called, or the scrofulous "taint" supposed to be the inheritance of so many of the children of our times? My reply is this: Scrofulous persons are those, mainly, perhaps it should be said wholly, who from current bad habits (as to diet, air, and all the requirements, or any part of them, which are necessary for the maintenance of health), manufacture bad, instead of pure blood. Such persons become more and more depraved, and incapacitated for bequeathing to their offspring great vital power. In consequence the children of such parents are endowed with a feeble organism; that is, an organism incapable, at least until virtually, or nearly as possible made over new, of putting forth in any direction a great degree of force, whether of the voluntary muscular system, the brain, the digestive or excretory systems, or what not. Children of this stamp may, they often do, exhibit precocity in one or another direction--being unbalanced, so to say--and may evince much alertness, both in muscle and brain, but they soon tire: it will always be found that they are incapable of prolonged effort in any direction, without exhaustion. They may develop a fondness for study and for play, but in neither direction have they any staying power: they are _called_ over-ambitious, often; they _are_ undernourished always. And this, not because they do not swallow a large quant.i.ty of food (though some children are kept so surfeited as to have little relish for food, and may, consequently, eat but little, being all the time a few days ahead of their stomachs, so to say), but generally because, of all the food swallowed, not enough is digested and a.s.similated to sustain them, and keep them in a vigorous state. They are, like all animals, when not suffering from nausea or lack of appet.i.te through somebody's fault, very ambitious in the way of eating; having--not inherited--but rather, I should say, _acquired_ during the involuntary cramming of infancy--that special school for gluttony, which graduates near thirty per cent. of its pupils into premature graves before their first year is ended--and the injudicious feeding of the survivors in childhood, a full, perhaps rounded measure of appetency, especially for the very things which scrofulous children, of all born children, should not have. They may be greedy for study and for food (though often enough, excess of the latter makes them listless and unfit for either study or play), but have for neither, sufficient capacity for digestion and a.s.similation, to make them either learned or strong. It follows, if they are fed like their robust fellows who can bear up under the burden, that by reason of quality, frequency, and amount of food eaten, no portion, not even such wholesome articles as fruit, vegetables, etc., as they may have in abundance,--no portion of their food is properly digested and a.s.similated. It is unnatural in variety, is prepared and eaten unnaturally, and, as has been said, there ensues, as surely as any effect is simultaneous with its cause, indigestion, blood-poisoning, and the _current, daily manufacture_ of "scrofulous humors," if people choose to call them by that name; and but for its misleading tendency, as at present interpreted, this name would answer as well as any. Of _pure food_, these children can digest and a.s.similate a given amount--an amount, indeed, suited to their peculiar needs; the balance, including _all_ unwholesome substances,[82] is so much for influenza, catarrh, "scrofula," measles, "nervousness,"

fractiousness, ("measly disposition" was not originally a slang phrase by any means) scarlet fever, skin, scalp, and all other so-called diseases.

The remedy, then, for the disorders of children of scrofulous, or any other diathesis, is plain: stop feeding them unnaturally, and feed them naturally. And the earlier in their lives this is done, and the more faithfully it is attended to, the more likely they will be to "outgrow their inheritance." I do not hesitate to say that, of those weakly-born or "tainted" children who die in infancy or childhood, or live sickly lives, in a very large proportion of cases they could, by right treatment, chiefly as to fresh air and diet, be built up above the plain of disease, _i.e._, placed upon the highest level possible to _them_, and enabled to live fairly long lives, a comfort to themselves and a benefit to the world. And this, too, in a majority of instances, on a rigidly abstemious vegetable diet, reserving the "natural diet" for the most critical cases, or the most conscientious persons.[83]

[Footnote 82: I include cream among the forbidden animal fats, especially for scrofulous subjects, for the reason that in practice I have never observed other than ultimately injurious effects from its use. I can account for this only upon the ground that if _milk_ is a proper food for man, _whole_ milk--like whole wheat, whole apples, whole grapes, whole beets, instead of white flour, cider, wine and sugar--only can be thus cla.s.sed. The fact that many, even robust persons, can not use milk at all, and a still larger proportion cream, whereas skimmed milk is well borne by them and in some instances seems to produce lasting good effects, may be accounted for, perhaps, in the following manner: As our cows are bred and fed, their milk is abnormally loaded with fatty matters, and when skimmed, after sitting twelve or more hours, still contains, as compared with _natural_ cows' milk, a full proportion of cream. Therefore, by removing the excess of cream, which is of an excretory nature, we are doing all in our power to "restore the balance," or to make the milk natural. Let those who choose make use of this delicious sc.u.m; but its administration to sick people, though often, like drugs, producing stimulating, and apparently beneficial effects, will, in the end, like every form of stimulation, hinder, if not prevent recovery. (See Stimulation.)]

[Footnote 83: See note 5 in Appendix, p. 281.]

Finally, to add so large a line of proper foods to our dietary by a correct understanding of their real office and value--taking them out of the category of mere pastime-lunches--should, from any point of view, be accounted a great gain. We are made by that much more independent, in being elevated above the otherwise some-time-necessity of eating unmitigatedly bad, or badly-prepared food, or of going without any; for almost any corner grocery will furnish a better bill-of-fare than one often finds at poor hotels or restaurants; besides, this cla.s.s of foods may be taken along better than any other: they are the most comfortable to transport and to handle _en route_, and will "keep." Moreover, they demand less time for "preliminary digestion" after eating; if, indeed, one may not, after a judicious meal of them, resume ordinary mental or muscular labor with impunity. The effect of a light lunch of fruits, is really, when one is once accustomed to their use, exhilarating to both the brain and the muscular system--stimulating, not as with a spur, but, rather, a "push behind"; or, more truly, by increase of actual strength through pabulum supplied to the blood, of a character, as I am convinced, unlike that of any form of cooked food.

Note.--In concluding this theme, while expressing the belief that this will be the diet of the future--that advancing civilization will demand it, on the score of economy, as relates to time, care, and health, no less than the comparatively trifling consideration of money cost (and yet what an item even this would be to the toiling millions!), and above all in view of the emanc.i.p.ation of woman from the serfdom of the kitchen, where she now exhausts herself to the injury of the family, her incessant kitchen labors tending especially to unfit her for the production of robust children--yet I would not chill the health-seeker of to-day, by insisting upon the vital importance of _every_ one's breaking away abruptly from _all_ present customs as regards the selection and preparation of food. To a considerable degree the usage of generations has, beyond question, adapted our systems to the use of cooked foods--has even rendered them somewhat unadapted to the _instant_ use of uncooked foods--so that a radical and complete change, abruptly made, would result in temporary digestive disturbance, which (however advantageous the results of the change, finally, if persisted in with faith and courage) would render it impracticable for some persons, more especially since this temporary physical inconvenience would be added to the social inconvenience arising from placing oneself so markedly at variance with all about him. No one can form a just opinion of this last item until he attempts a radical change in his dietetic habits: it presents the greatest check imaginable to rapid progress in this direction.

A reform, however, which is at the same time feasible and, in most instances, sufficient, speaking generally,--and which, as elsewhere remarked, already has its hundreds of thousands of adherents in this country alone,--would be the adoption of the "fruit and bread," or the ordinary vegetarian diet even--banishing all doubtful dishes, condiments, spices, hot drinks--stimulants all--making a lunch (or two, even) in the course of the day, of fruit, with a biscuit or two at one of them, perhaps; and at eve, when the tired ones are rested, a regular "full meal," consisting of various bread dishes--wheat, corn, rye and oatmeal, with various admixtures of the same, which may well furnish a different flavor (several, indeed) for every day in the month--fruit, milk (for those with whom it "agrees"), vegetables and nuts. Following _this direction_, and aiming constantly, but _comfortably_, to maintain the balance between diet and labor--between the food eaten and the needs of the organism for nutriment--one may not only enjoy, as he ought, the pleasures of the table, but, in very many cases, absolutely and largely increase these pleasures, in the aggregate, considering, more especially, his exemption from sickness with its occasional involuntary fasts, and with many, the quite frequent periods of slight, or non-satisfaction, through nausea and lack of appet.i.te arising from an injudicious dietary.

This regimen lessens by one-half the housewife's burdens, as well as the cost of living, while it adds immeasurably to her health and that of her household.

CHAPTER XVI.

MALARIA--SEWER GAS.

These are very vicious companions, and cause a deal of mischief. The scientists have much to say of the prevalence, and of the deleterious effects of sewer gas, from faulty plumbing, etc.; but they do not insist upon, scarcely indeed mention, the plain fact, that if this insidious destroyer can, as is now known, get into a dwelling through a foot of stone or brick wall, it can and will _get out through an open window_; and that, in any event, if there be abundant ventilation there will be such dilution of these gases as to render them comparatively innoxious. It is not so much the letting in of bad air, but rather the confining of it--the breathing of it, "pure and unadulterated"--that causes disease. There is more _malaria_ in a close bedroom in the most favored mountain-region, and in the alimentary ca.n.a.l of a constipated or drug-swallowing dyspeptic, than about the swamps and bayous of Louisiana or the dreaded Roman Campagna, where wrapped in a single blanket, the author has slept night after night--to prove his faith in the theory, as well the theory itself.

The "Roman fever," so alarming to visitors of the holy city, is the joint product of stuffy hotel bedrooms and a diet better suited to the climate of Iceland than Italy.

"I have lately spent a summer in a country place whose delicious air is a just source of pride to its inhabitants," says an observing writer, in _Our Continent_. "They told me how doctors sent their patients there from a distance, and how even consumptives had had their fell disease arrested by the tonic effects of the pure air and invigorating breezes, and then I found the very people who thus glorified in them shutting out every breath of air and every ray of sunshine from their houses because of flies! In returning the calls of neighbors, I was struck the moment I entered their houses with that close, unwholesome, 'stuffy' smell which we generally a.s.sociate with the homes of the ignorant and unneat cla.s.ses alone, but which is often to be noticed in those of a cla.s.s far above them. As I looked at the outside of the different houses in the place, it was difficult to realize that they were really inhabited. Every blind was carefully closed, and not one sign of life visible; and yet, unfortunately, life was going on behind those closed windows--life which needed every advantage to make it healthy and enjoyable. Does it never occur to you, you housekeepers whose minds recoil from soiled house-linen, fly-specks on paint, and every species of uncleanliness--does it never occur to you, you so-called neat women, that there is one thing absolutely _dirty_ in your cleanly-swept and carefully-dusted houses, and that is their very air? You who would blush with shame at the idea of anything unclean worn on your person, or taken into your mouth, do you not know you are taking in uncleanliness with every breath you draw; and that unclean air is making your blood, and through its means, your entire bodies impure?... Many a woman is regretting this summer that she is unable to have a change of air for herself and children by going to the seaside, the country, or the mountains. Why not try the effect of change of air at home? If air makes such a difference to your health as you admit, why not let it do its best for you wherever you are?"

It would be hard to find, in any community, a person so ignorant as not to know that the lungs require good air. "Oh, yes, of course, I know we must have pure air." Yes, indeed. Nevertheless, ninety-five families in every hundred, in city and country, though always ready to say this, suffer every day of their lives for want of it. This arises from a lack of definite knowledge (1) as to the true office of air--of the fact that it supplies the major portion of the body's nourishment, since an ordinary person could live six weeks or more without eating, and as many days without liquids of any sort; while as many _minutes_ without oxygen is certain death; and (2) as to what const.i.tutes "pure air in the home." Says Prof. Huxley: "But the deprivation of oxygen, and the acc.u.mulation of carbonic acid, cause injury long before the asphyxiating point is reached.

Uneasiness and headache arise when less than one per cent. of the oxygen of the air is replaced by other matters; while the persistent breathing of such air tends to lower all kinds of vital energy, and predisposes to disease. Hence the necessity of sufficient air, and of ventilation for every human being. To be supplied with respiratory air in a _fair state_ of purity, every man ought to have at least eight hundred cubic feet of s.p.a.ce to himself, and that s.p.a.ce ought to be freely accessible, by direct or indirect channels, to the atmosphere."

A room ten feet square, and eight feet high, if "freely accessible" to the outer air during the entire 24 hours, will, according to the high authority quoted, supply the necessary respiratory rations, so to say, for one adult person. In so far, then, as this s.p.a.ce _per capita_ is diminished, its accessibility to the outer air must be increased; that is, the ventilation (which should in all cases be constant) must be freer, in proportion as the size of the room is diminished or the number of its occupants increased. No room built with hands will ever be large enough to supply the "breath of life," in default of free communication with the outer air.

WINTER VENTILATION.

The true theory of ventilation is to obtain a perpetual and sufficient change of air without sensible draught. The following simple plan, as I have proved by years of experience, perfectly fulfills these requirements, and leaves nothing to be desired. The _Scientific American_ endorses the plan, and places it above many, in fact most of the elaborate and expensive devices. The eminent Dr. B. W. Richardson, of London, also, is on record in favor of the plan, and it is already in use in thousands of homes in this country. A three-inch strip placed beneath the lower sash of each window has the effect to "mismatch" the sashes, causing them to overlap each other in the middle. The stream of air thus admitted is thrown directly upward, and slowly mixes with the heated air in the upper part of the room. As several windows in each room are thus provided, the vitiated air is constantly pa.s.sing out at one or another of the ventilators. The strip being perfectly fitted or listed, no air can enter at the sill, and all can be so nicely finished as in no manner to mar the appearance of the most elegant drawing-room. A dwelling thus ventilated will never smell "close" to the most sensitive nose upon re-entering, even after a prolonged stay in the open air--a test that would condemn, as unfit for occupancy, ninety in the hundred sitting and sleeping rooms, as well as churches, halls, etc., the world over. The purity of the air is by no means measured by the temperature. Cold air is often very impure by reason of stagnation (as stagnant water), or the exhalations from the lungs, etc., while, on the other hand, the temperature may be maintained at 70 F., or upwards, without fatally lowering its quality, if a sufficient and perpetual change is going on between the outdoor and indoor air.

Whether in Maine or California, Florida or Kansas; whether in a "malarial district" or in a region celebrated for its salubrity,--whatever the locality,--the only standard, the purest air attainable for the inhabitants of any town or hamlet, is the outdoor air. Apropos of this I make a brief extract from the letter of a patient, a delicate lady, under treatment for chronic dyspepsia, and other troubles, who, under date of September 5th, says: "I have tried to follow your directions, and the result is very satisfactory. I live out of doors as much as possible through the day, and for weeks have even slept out on the porch at night.

I have enjoyed this very much,--never slept so soundly nor felt so fresh on waking. Of course my friends predicted malaria from sleeping out of doors so near the fogs from the river, but I haven't had even a sniffle! I exercise a great deal and have grown very much stronger. It seemed pretty hard at first to live on one meal a day and exercise too, but I persevered and feel better for it. Every one here is astonished at my progress and increase of strength. At first I think they rather resented my not coming to the table, and they openly declared the foolishness of living without meat; but they have 'sick spells' which now I never do, and they can not endure heat or cold as I can. I think I can dimly see your position, and begin to realize the simplicity of certain problems generally regarded so complicated."--(Mrs. S., Washington, D. C., writing from Wadley's Falls, N. H.)