THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
ON 
 
 THE PRESERVATION OF 
 HEALTH; 
 
 'on, 
 
 PLAIN DEFECTIONS HOW TO AVOID 
 THE DOCTOR 
 
 BY THOMAS INMAN, M.D. LOND., 
 
 PHYSICIAN TO THE ROYAL INFIRMARY, LIVERPOOL ; LATE LECTURER 
 
 SUCCESSIVELY ON BOTANY", MEDICAL JURISPRUDENCE, 
 
 MATERIA MEDICA AND THERAPEUTICS, AND THE PRINCIPLES AND THE 
 
 PRACTICE OF MEDICINE. 
 
 AUTHOR OF A TREATISE ' ' ON MYALGIA," OF "FOUNDATION FOR A NEW 
 THEORY AND PRACTICE OF MEDICINE;" OF ESSAYS " ON THE REAL 
 NATURE OF INFLAMMATION," AND OF " ATHEROMA IN ARTERIES," 
 "SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION," ETC. 
 
 LATE PRESIDENT OF THE LIVERPOOL LITERARY AND PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY. 
 
 AUTHOR OF A WORK ENTITLED 
 "ANCIENT FAITHS EMBODIED IN ANCIENT NAMES." 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 H. K. LEWIS, 136 GOWER STREET, W.C. 
 LIVERPOOL: ADAM HOLDEN. 
 
 MDCCCLXVIII. 
 
M'GOWAN AND DANKS, STEAM PRINTERS, 16 GREAT WINDMILL, STREET, HAYMARKKT, W. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 THE following Essays were written at the suggestion of my 
 friend, Dr. Macgowan, the proprietor and editor of the Medical 
 Mirror > and they first appeared under his auspices. They have 
 been composed at intervals, in the midst of very heavy literary 
 work, and lack the polish which is given by the use of midnight 
 oil. It has been the aim of the author to give in vigorous language, 
 and as plain English as he could command, information to those 
 who desire to keep themselves in health, or to recover health when 
 they have only departed from it to a small extent. In handling 
 his subject, he has ever had before his mind real conversations 
 with various clients who have been able, with his assistance, to 
 trace their sufferings, and the necessity for a doctor's advice, to 
 some habit thoughtlessly contracted or adopted, with the idea 
 that it was highly beneficial. He has frequently had before his 
 mind the story of the once famous Abernethy, who prescribed 
 to his patients a perusal of his book as well as certain medicine, 
 and the author has repeatedly wished that he had some such 
 work to which he could refer those who have consulted him. 
 He is speaking strictly within the limit of truth when he says 
 that he has often spent an hour with a client before he could 
 impress him or her with the senselessness and injury of some 
 habit or custom which had been slowly but surely impairing 
 
 M373259 
 
IV PREFACE. ' 
 
 vitality and undermining health and life, and he would then have 
 been glad to have been able to refer his interlocutor to some 
 volume where the required information might be studied. How- 
 ever much the author felt the want of such a book, it is probable 
 that he never would have composed it, had it not been from the 
 ' gentle pressure of Dr. Macgowan, and the desire to serve the 
 interest of an old friend, for the author had begun to be disgusted 
 with the results of composing philosophical medical treatises, 
 and with endeavouring to teach those who refused to learn, and 
 had thrown himself into the subject of divinity, ancient and 
 modern. . 
 
 -When once the composition of the present Brochure was re- 
 solved upon, the author was conscious that he should have to 
 touch- upon subjects which are very rarely handled, and the ques- 
 tion arose in his mind whether these ought or ought not to be 
 wholly ignored. If, on the one hand, they were passed by in 
 silence, any reader would imagine them to be of no importance ; 
 if, on the other, they were discussed, the difficulty of finding 
 appropriate language had to be weighed. When he had resolved 
 not to shirk the disagreeable duty, the author felt much in the 
 same way as he did when he determined to join a party to visit 
 a deep salt mine. He was horribly afraid of the yawning chasm, 
 but fully resolved not to show a white feather, so he joined the 
 first batch of descenders and entered the tub before any of the 
 rest of the party. In like manner he resolved to do the most 
 uncongenial portion of his literary work at the outset, so that 
 he might not, as it were, sit for months shivering on the bank 
 of a mental cold bath. 
 
 During the long period which has elapsed since the first Essay 
 .was published, the author has met with some strictures upon the 
 plainness of his diction,' it being held by learned pundits in the 
 medical profession, .that a physician should always be oracular, 
 recondite, and always incomprehensible to the vulgar. It has 
 
' PREFACE. V 
 
 even been considered as a medical crime, for a doctor to write a 
 book for the Public to read, it being a canon in " etiquette " that 
 whenever anything spoken of has a technical or Latin word as 
 well as an English one, the last is to be carefully avoided. To this 
 rule the author adhered when he wrote for doctors alone, but to 
 respect the law when he was writing for those who are not sup- 
 posed to have any medical knowledge would have been the 
 height of absurdity. That he has written this work for the 
 Public, the author fearlessly avows, but he feels in advance some 
 shame at the knowledge that this avowal will be assailed by 
 many who profess themselves to be members of* a liberal pro- 
 fession. - ;. 
 The author hopes at some future time to supplement .this 
 set of Essays by another, upon the subject of the Restoration of 
 Health, which though of equal importance with the present 
 work, will not certainly have so wide a set of interested readers. 
 
 12 Rodney street, Liverpool, and Spital, Cheshire. 
 April, 1868. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. 1. INTRODUCTORY 1 
 
 2. ON MARRIED LIFE 7 
 
 3. FEEDING AND FOOD 12 
 
 4. THE DRINK WE CONSUME 19 
 
 5. THE HOUSE WE LIVE IN 27 
 
 6. THE WIFE A MOTHER 33 
 
 7. THE MOTHER GROWING OLD ) The Grand 40 
 
 8. THE FATHER GETTING INTO YEARS J Climacteric 45 
 
 9. THE INFANT JUST ARRIVED 51 
 
 10. THE CHILD BECOMING I B n Y r - 59 
 
 j UrlRL 
 
 11. THE YOUTH BECOMING MAN. . 67 
 
 12. THE YOUTH BECOMING WOMAN ... 73 
 
 13. THE USE OF BATHS 80 
 
 14. THE USE OF EXERCISE 88 
 
 15. THE USE OF CHANGE OF AIR .... 95 
 
 16. THE VALUE OF HEAT ., 105 
 
 17. THE EFFECT OF COLD 112 
 
 18. THE INFLUENCE OF APERIENTS . . . . 129 
 
 19. THE USE OF A DOCTOR 137 
 
 20. THE BOURSE OF DISEASE 145 
 
 21. OLD AGE 152 
 
ON THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 I ONCE examined a gentleman for an insurance company, who 
 told me that he had made up his mind not to die until he was 
 an hundred years old ; but, unfortunately, as he had an affection 
 of the heart, he could not persuade the office to believe him. 
 On another occasion a clergyman spelling out my profession, 
 accosted me in a railway carriage when I was returning from a 
 visit to the great man of the neighbourhobd, propounded the 
 opinion, that every -one* might live to an indefinite period if he 
 only knew how, "and he wanted to worm, otit from me the secret 
 of the elixir vitse. There is also an old " saw " to the effect, 
 that " man thinks each man mortal save himself." 
 
 These may. suffice to show that there is within us all a wish 
 to live as long as we, can, and to that end we make for ourselves 
 a code of laws to which we .adhere. Some of these laws seem 
 bizarre, ..yet they are not adopted without thought and observa- 
 tion ; the mischief about them is, that the observation on which 
 they are founded- is insufficient and the deductions illogical. 
 
 One man thinks -he sees in civilisation the main cause of 
 premature decay, and for himself and his children he imi- 
 tates the wild beast, and goes as bare of clothing as the laws 
 of the land will let him. Another thinks that as the lion, the 
 lamb, and the elephant eat their meals uncooked, so we, if we. 
 wish to emulate their strength, gentleness, and longevity, must 
 eschew roast beef and boiled potatoes. Another, hearing of s'ome 
 wonderful old carp living in a certain pond, thinks that water 
 is wonderfully conducive to :the conservation of life, drinks assi- 
 duously of water, and- sluices himself -with j:he'- same element at 
 every opportunity. Another, in his or her .young days has read 
 that " early to bed and early to. rise, makes ^ man healthy and 
 wealthy and wise," so he buys an alarum to awake himself on 
 
 B 
 
2 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 every raw cold day in winter, and sits for hours shivering in a 
 cold room, trying to keep warm by thinking of last night's fire. 
 Another has heard that one of the things which bring men to a 
 premature grave, is good living and laziness, so he takes no end 
 of exercise, and prides himself upon never indulging his appe- 
 tite. One hears that suppers are steps to eternity, and as he 
 wants to stick to time, he avoids them as he would the gentle- 
 man with a tail. 
 
 It would weary the reader if I were to tell him all the absur- 
 dities believed firmly in, by men of sense, simply from habits of 
 careless thought. It is assumed as a fact that civilization 
 shortens life, but no effort is made to test the truth of the state- 
 ment. The reverse is the case. The savage is very rarely, if 
 ever, long lived. He becomes prematurely old, and looks a hun- 
 dred when he is but sixty. Let any one pass through,, what is 
 called, primitive Switzerland, and mark its natives, and then say 
 whether hard toil, poor food, and lots of fresh air, necessarily bring 
 health and perpetual youth. There he will see scarcely a step 
 from youth to age, from age to decrepitude. The lovely virgin 
 of to day, is the wrinkled hag two years after marriage, and the 
 voice of joy and health combined, is rarely heard save on an 
 occasional fete day. 
 
 The Arabs are pointed at as mirrors of longevity, but when 
 the authority is asked for, it is found in the Bible, whose older 
 authors exaggerated to the full as much as do the modern 
 Orientals, and who say a hundred when they mean a score. 
 
 The sailors in Greenwich, and the soldiers at Chelsea Hospi- 
 tals are pointed at, to show that campaigning in various climates 
 is eminently healthy, and that seamanship ought to be a first- 
 rate medicine; but few consider that both the one and the other 
 consist of men picked out from their fellows for their healthiness, 
 and that a vast number succumb under their privations long ere 
 they arrive at fifty. The men are long lived because they have 
 had, so to speak, iron constitutions, not because they have led a 
 certain life. 
 
 The frequency with which cause and effect are mistaken is 
 extraordinary. In common life nothing is more common than 
 for a man or woman to say to some ailing friend, " Do as I do 
 and you will be as I am. I eat a whole loaf of bread to my 
 breakfast, work incessantly till dinner-time, some nine hours 
 afterwards, I then polish off a pound or two of steak, heaps of 
 potatoes and flagons of water, and then I get through a good 
 night's work at something else, why do you go on at the 
 miserable rate you do, eating barely enough to keep yourself 
 alive ? " and much more of the same kind. 
 
 The same man, perchance, has a son, and he is probably a 
 great admirer of Mr. Gladstone's talents. His son shall, he 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 3 
 
 tli inks, rival that statesman, so he is sent to the same school 
 and to the same college in the same university. He eats the 
 same kind of food, drinks the same kind of beverage, works with 
 the same assiduity, and yet in the end he is probably plain Mr. 
 Bookworm instead of a brilliant orator. The indignant father 
 complains of his son's stupidity, and reproaches the lad for what 
 is no fault of his, and to blow off steam confides his troubles to 
 a friend. When the latter succeeds in gaining attention, he 
 would probably speak thus : " I say, old fellow, did you ever 
 go to a horse fair ?" " Yes." " And you saw lots of horses ?" 
 " Yes." " Was there any difference between one and another." 
 " Of course." " Well, now, if you wanted a dray horse would 
 you have bought a racer ; or if you wished for an useful hack, 
 would you select a cart-horse ?" " Certainly I would not be so 
 big a fool." " Why not, you know you may train the hunter to 
 draw a cart, and the dray horse to gallop. I dare say if you 
 chose to feed your nice roadster on oil-cake, you could get him 
 to rival in bulk one of Barclay's pets !" " What bosh," would 
 be the indignant response. " Now, my friend," would the astute 
 conversationalist rejoin ; "let us take in place of the horse-fair, 
 the exchange and the ball-room, and talk of men and women in- 
 stead of geldings and fillies. You see yon man with broad 
 shoulders, large bones, sturdy limbs, an eye like Jove's to 
 threaten and command, a stature a trifle above the medium 
 height, and a beard and complexion the envy of his fellows. 
 He can hunt and fish, boat and walk, dance and drink, and all 
 with equal enjoyment. You see in him the beau ideal of a 
 chieftain, and when you want a brave companion for a walk 
 through a garotting region, he is the one you would select. 
 Turn your eye now upon the man beside him. His stature is 
 medium, but his shoulders fall forward, and are as narrow as 
 the others are broad. The first has a head which looks small ; 
 this has one proportionally great ; his chest is chicken-breasted, 
 his hair thin and silky, his complexion pallid, his bones small. 
 You feel that a blow of your own arm would almost kill him. 
 Now could you by any course of training make the second equal 
 to the first ? Let rne take you now to the ball-room, and be 
 your mentor for a while. You see that lady, we say nothing of 
 her beauty she dances with spirit, chats with vivacity, does 
 not pant after a waltz, enjoys her negus or her ice, and rejoices in 
 her supper. She is the sister to the first man we lately saw, and 
 there and there and there you may see her relatives. There are 
 lots of them, for none have died. The family are noted for 
 health, vivacity, and endurance. None are sluggards ; they are 
 up early and go through no end of visiting in the season. The 
 doctor tells me he might starve if all his patients resembled 
 them. Now look again at that beauty. Did you ever see a 
 
4 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 complexion more lovely, teeth more clear, hair more glossy and 
 luxuriant, a bust so charming, and a carriage more graceful ? 
 But note the languor of the movements, the carelessness with 
 which she plays with negus, or allows an ice to become warm. 
 Dance with her and note how she pants after a lively measure, 
 and adjourn to the supper-room with her, and try to induce her 
 to take a chicken's wing. If you will ask her, and she is dis- 
 posed to be confidential, she will tell you that she likes, perhaps 
 adores, dancing, but that she pays for it afterwards, lying awake 
 all night with cramps, or racked with spasms. Her parents 
 have one or both died of consumption, and she has already lost 
 two or three brothers and sisters with the same disease. Some 
 one has induced her to emulate her neighbours, to ride, boat, walk, 
 dance, and garden, as they do, but she has given it up." " And no 
 wonder," is the answer. "Just so," the observant friend replies ; 
 " you are now, I hope, convinced that there is a difference 
 amongst human beings as there is amongst horses. Breed will 
 do much to improve the race, and training will do much to 
 improve the individual, but you can. no more convert a born fool 
 into an orator, than you can make a cow a good hack, a dray 
 horse a good hunter, or turn a sow's ear into a silk purse. You 
 are perhaps a sportsman, and may have trained dogs. Let me 
 ask you would you try to convert a harrier into a staghound, or 
 use a mastiff for a pointer ? Certainly not ; nor would you 
 bait a bull with a French poodle. If you have an ingenious 
 friend you would rather give him a pretty terrier to teach, than 
 a bloodhound ; but if you wished to ride secure amongst a lot 
 of turbulents, you would prefer the latter to the former." 
 
 Here we may drop the conversation which we introduced to 
 show the good sense used by men respecting horses and dogs, 
 and resume, that as it is with them, so it is with us ; 
 some of us are from breeding fitted mainly for intel- 
 lectual work, and to perform our duties well and satisfac- 
 torily to ourselves and others, we require as much care in 
 training and living as do the hunter and the spaniel. Others 
 are by nature fitted for toil like hum in cart horses, they 
 are heavy and lumbering, yet strong ; they can do with lots of 
 food in their stomach, but care little for intellectual dainties. 
 If each of these are in their own place, good and well ; but 
 if the man fitted only for sedentary employment, is obliged 
 to work like one of Perkins's gigantic team, is it wonderful 
 if he break down ? And if Ager, who would have been 
 first rate, as Agricola or Ajax, is stuck to a lawyer's desk, is 
 it not likely that he, too, will feel out of place ? 
 
 Again, if the overwrought son of toil find himself break 
 down, will not the same consideration apply to him, as would 
 apply to a hackney " screw " on its last legs ? The last 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 5 
 
 you may coddle or shoot the first you must coddle if you 
 can. 
 
 Once, in days gone by, I heard two observations which 
 stuck to me like wax. The first was from an intelligent 
 milliner, and ran thus : " My father told me never to kill 
 myself to keep myself, and I am an obedient daughter." The 
 second was from a banker's clerk, dying of consumption. My 
 recommendation was urgent that he should knock off work. 
 His reply was, " Well doctor, the choice is between work and 
 workhouse ; if I leave the first, it is for life in the second, and 
 I prefer work and death to pauperism and life." Unfortunately, 
 there are too many of this class in the world, and it is amongst 
 them that the question of the preservation of health is most 
 important. 
 
 As a rule, it is easier to keep what we have got, than to re- 
 place what we have lost. Hence, what is called prophylaxis by 
 the learned, and by the unlearned, " the art of keeping health 
 when you have got it," is always taught in medicine. Though 
 taught, however, it has hitherto been taught much as a blind 
 lecturer might discourse on colour to eyeless auditors. I can 
 remember hearing, when I was a boy, that a spring emetic, an 
 autumnal bleeding, a weekly purging, and, in May, abundant 
 draughts of nettle-beer, were necessary to preserve health. I 
 was physicked daily for the same purpose, till I was sick with 
 it, and giving the visitor a return-ticket sent him back as he 
 came. I was punished for years, with a morning plunge-bath 
 when very little, and a sponging when I was bigger had to 
 drink salt water in the Summer, as well as to bathe in it, and all 
 for the good of my health, which never was bad. Later on I 
 have listened to tirades about diet, feeding-time, bed-time, 
 exercise, and a host of other things, in which the speakers have 
 invariably started from the belief, that all men and women were 
 alike in constitution, vigour and vitality, and that whatever 
 suited best to the advice giver, must be the very best thing pos- 
 sible for the recipient of that advice. 
 
 Don't eat figs, says one, for they will give you the cholera, and 
 don't eat lobsters says another, for they will give you nettle- 
 rash. Pork is first-rate, and veal particularly digestible, says 
 one, it is poison says another, each speaking his own ex- 
 perience. 
 
 It is the business of the doctor to accumulate the experiment 
 of many and apply it to one, and this he cannot do, so long as 
 he believes all to be alike. It is the business of the patient, 
 whether he be his own physician or applies to a regular M.D., 
 to ascertain, not so much what suits another, but what suits 
 himself. The result of any particular plan of action as regards 
 himself, must be thought more of than what that plan would 
 
6 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 do for other people, and the study of " number one/' will be 
 more important than observation on other numerals. 
 
 Our advice then to any individuals who wish to study the 
 preservation of their own or their childrens' health, is to " take 
 an individual, rather than a collective standard for a test of suc- 
 cess, that individual being the one treated. I hope, in future 
 essays, to point out the subjects for consideration and the 
 points to be noted, and to assist any one in the art of making 
 observations and drawing conclusions. 
 
 This Essay I will conclude by a Professional story. After 
 
 visiting Mrs. , repeatedly for a medical friend, I became, in 
 
 consequence of his leaving town, her regular physician. Her 
 husband was a stirring man, and she did her best to be a very 
 active housewife and mother ; yet she was always ailing, and 
 often laid up entirely by painful boils in the arm-pits. After 
 striving many years to attain the ideal standard she had placed 
 before herself for copying, she succumbed to my oft repeated 
 persuasions, and agreed to lie in bed for an extra hour every 
 morning, and to have daily a half hour's rest on the sofa after 
 dinner. Some year or two elapsed ere she had occasion to con- 
 sult me and not then about herself. After congratulating her 
 upon her good looks, and long absence of illness, she answered 
 me, " Do you know Doctor, that I have come to look upon it, as 
 a curse to my comfort, that I ever knew Mrs. Busy. She has a 
 large family, and is indefatigable in her household matters, and 
 never had an illness ; she has always been a personal friend of 
 mine, and when I married, I made her my model, hoping in 
 time to equal her in health, by imitating her activity. Yet I 
 never was well after I began the system, and I, probably, never 
 should have been, had I persisted in it. Since I adopted your 
 plan, I have had more comfort and far better health than I ever 
 had before, and moreover, I find, that having more strength for 
 what I have to do I can get through more than when I had less 
 vigour and took more time." Possibly, some doctor's wife may 
 read this ; if she or any other overworked woman do, let them 
 remember that a fresh horse has more " go " in him than a tired 
 one, and that roses may be cultivated in beds. 
 
CHAPTER IT. 
 
 ON MA11EIED LIFE. 
 
 AN author frequently finds greater difficulty in arranging wliat 
 lie has to say, than to put it down upon paper when its proper 
 place is selected. I have been no exception to this, and have 
 hesitated long whethe/I would begin my remarks with the pre- 
 servation of health in infancy and go upwards to old age, or 
 begin at once in medias res and proceed thence to the extremi- 
 ties of life. At length, I determined to select the last alternative, 
 and our scene opens upon a young married couple just entering 
 their united career. Neither of them have faultless constitution 
 (for we do not now address ourselves to those folks of iron 
 frame, who never have to think of health, and never require a 
 doctor until he has to sign a certificate of death), and they inherit 
 from one or both parents, or have unfortunately acquired for 
 themselves, some tendency to disease. We will presume still 
 farther that, though there is enough to " keep the pot-boiling," yet 
 that it cannot be done without the usual amount of daily atten- 
 tion to business on the man's, and due attention to house- 
 hold matters on the woman's part. We will assume farther that 
 our couple are affectionate and proper, taking due care of each 
 other, and observant of small symptoms. 
 
 During the first few months of his career the husband will 
 probably be conscious that he sleeps unusually heavily, after 
 dinner, he is more weary with his work than he used to be, and he 
 begins to fancy himself bilious, has headache in the morning, 
 indigestion in the evening, and some constipation of the bowels. 
 He may too, at times, fancy that wine gets sooner into his head 
 than it did, and reading small print at night costs an effort, 
 possibly he learns, for the first time, that he snores heavily during 
 sleep. To overcome this biliousness, he takes a colocynth and 
 blue pill, or some other concoction and enjoys a " good clear out." 
 But somehow the biliousness becomes worse, and there are 
 serious thoughts on foot as to who the family doctor is to be. 
 The missis may probably want one by and bye, and she can 
 judge whether she will like Dr. A. for herself by seeing what he is 
 with the husband. It may be that the lady has become a convert 
 to some accomplished homoeopathic physician, while the gentle- 
 man has always sworn by Mr. B. ; the accomplished surgeon of 
 St. Mangle's Hospital. 
 
8 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 As the couple do not altogether agree upon this matter, 
 the husband pours out his troubles to the individual whom 
 we will call "his sensible friend," who talks provokingly of 
 horses, and asks his opinion as to the course he should 
 follow, and the medical adviser he should select. We can 
 imagine the colloquy would continue thus : " Well, old fellow, you 
 know you have already taken some pills to remove your bilious- 
 ness, those were, I take it, ordered for you by Mr. B. and you 
 say that they have not been of any service to you, and if Mr. B. 
 were to see you now, he would only order the same kind of thing 
 in a different dose, and when once you get a doctor into your 
 house, you don't know when you will get rid of him. Homoeo- 
 pathy and its professors are just as bad as their neighbours in 
 the last respect, though they have the advantage over the others 
 in not vexing your stomach by nauseous draughts. Never mind 
 a doctor at all, use your own judgment ; and now that I look at 
 you I can't help thinking of that wonderfully fine horse, Barclay's 
 Entire. So superb a fellow was it, that it was more run after 
 than any other in the racing stud, and the number of foals who 
 owned him for father was ' legion/ but he got off his food, be- 
 came weak in the legs, lost all his ' go,' was sent to the 
 veterinary for repairs, and at length laid by in a paddock. I 
 dare say you can guess the reason. I don't suppose that you, 
 like it, have been indiscriminate in your affections ; but it seems 
 to me, to use an old saw to a new log, that you ' have loved not 
 wisely but too well.' Human beings are not like pumps which 
 give a good can-full every time the handle is worked, and even 
 if they were, some wells you know may be pumped dry. To 
 follow up the metaphor do you not think that it would be well to 
 try the effect of 'turning the tap off' for a time instead of going 
 to the doctor ? " " You astonish me," would probably be the re- 
 joinder, " I always heard that to indulge oneself alone or with a 
 Midianitish woman was hurtful to the constitution ; but that 
 with a wife one might indulge affection indefinitely, not only 
 without hurt to the system, but positive good." " Quite a mis- 
 take, my dear sir, I assure you ; if you spend money on your 
 wife, you lose it from your coffers as completely as if you had 
 squandered it on yourself or on any other companion. I have 
 myself seen a young fellow who married at seventeen ; he was 
 a devoted husband and his love knew no bounds. But at 
 twenty-four he looked an old man, and was very nearly dying 
 in a hospital ; but fortunately for him he met there some young 
 doctor who divined the cause of his illness, and set him on his 
 legs again." " But you don't mean to tell me seriously do you, 
 that the excess you speak of can produce biliousness ? " " Well 
 let us see. Do you know anything of frogs and toads in spring, 
 and how they die after fertilizing the female ova?" "No." 
 
ON MARRIED LIFE. 
 
 " Well then, I'll tell you that they die from failure of living 
 power, they have literally expended their own life on giving 
 vitality to their offspring ; in higher animals the result of such 
 excess is shown in paralysis of the hind quarters. With man 
 there are warnings ere such results appear, and those warnings 
 are the symptoms commonly assigned by men to biliousness 
 viz., dullness of head, hebetude of body and mind indigestion, 
 and constipation. 
 
 " It is quite true that Nature intended us to pair off in couples, 
 and it is quite true that she has given to the stronger sex a 
 greater amount of power than just what may be necessary to 
 produce offspring, but it is equally true that the force may be 
 exhausted, and that with that exhaustion will come disorders 
 in one or more parts of the frame. The man who lives like a 
 fighting cock and has nothing to do, but to enjoy life, may appear 
 to have the wondrous vigour of chanticleer and exercise it with- 
 out injury, but he, who has to toil for his living all day, cannot 
 continue his exertions all night without losing his shine. This 
 will certainly happen with those whose constitution is faultless, 
 but if there is a flaw, if consumption be in the family, or insanity, 
 &c., has been in the parents, the effects will follow more quickly 
 and more certainly. 
 
 " Let me then recommend you throughout the rest of your life 
 to use moderation in affection, I cannot give an accurate de- 
 finition of the words I use, farther than to say that you ought to 
 be unconscious, from your feelings, that you have indulged in 
 love at all. Now, while young, you may have one scale, when 
 advancing in years you will have another, but, whether young 
 or old, mark my words, that for the preservation of health one 
 of the greatest essentials in a man is, that he shall be very 
 moderate both in bed and board." In "Foundation for New 
 Theory and Practice of Medicine," I have given three cases in 
 which a single indulgence has been followed by almost instant 
 death. The patients had consumption, haemorrhage, and 
 diabetes. 
 
 Leaving the colloquy as it stands above, I would add, that no 
 one can neglect the advice given, with impunity, it is given not 
 only for the sake of men entering into life but for their wives 
 also. Excess of devotion on a husband's part will produce 
 leucorrhcea in the wife, sometimes rnenorrhagia, and occasionally, 
 spasm of the muscle of the vagina of such painful intensity and 
 persistence, that even walking is painful. The feeling of the 
 majority of men including I am sorry to say some doctors is, 
 that where power is evident by the change it induces in the 
 organ, it may be harmlessly enjoyed, and that excess is to be 
 judged of by the quiescence it induces. This is a grievous mis- 
 take, for indulgence induces a respondance to a far slighter 
 
10 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 stimulus than would effect it in health, and a continual desire 
 is often the forerunner of an attack of acute mania. I have 
 myself known three instances of this. In one the satyriasis 
 was followed by suicide, in the second by homicide, and in the 
 third by paralysis. 
 
 Presuming that a more careful attention to the exigences of 
 health will soon restore our Benedick to health, we will leave him 
 for a while, to turn our attention on his partner. She has, we will 
 suppose, noticed that the "visitor," which has before regularly 
 told her of the flight of months, has not appeared as usual, and sa 
 sage m&re has told her that she must prepare for those " coming 
 events which cast their shadows before/' She is now no longer a 
 single being, with only her own body to provide for, and we will 
 suppose that she experiences the ordinary inconveniences of preg- 
 nancy. Without personal experience, she consults her mother, if 
 she have one, as to what she ought to do, and if foiled here, she 
 talks to some matronly friend, or some knowing old woman. From 
 one or all she may hear that morning sickness is peculiarly good 
 for the baby, and that abundance of exercise during the period of 
 its growth will make the infant come almost painlessly into the 
 world, &c., under the idea, that because some savages suffer little 
 during the process of parturition, therefore it is well for a 
 civilised woman to emulate the ways of a Red Indian Squaw. 
 
 It is essential to comfort, and sometimes even to health 
 or life, that a woman should understand the management of her- 
 self at this period of her life. Let us sketch her condition. She 
 has within her a living germ, small indeed at first, but becoming 
 at last of great size and weight, At first, the womb and 
 its contents barely weigh two ounces, and do not exceed a lemon 
 in bulk, at last they weigh little short of fourteen pounds, and 
 sometimes more, and their bulk is about that of a common bucket, 
 with this there is frequent sickness, and loss of appetite or indi- 
 gestion, which prevents the ordinary food being taken, so that the 
 prospective mother has to cnrry her extra burden on deficient 
 supply, at the very period when more than usual is re- 
 quired 
 
 How is this case to be met ? If we order more exercise than 
 usual, and encourage the vomiting it is clear that we must make 
 matters worse. As it is, every time the wife goes upstairs she 
 takes more exercise than she did as a virgin, and she becomes 
 daily more distressed. Pain in the back wearies her, though 
 she only goes through her household duties, it distresses her 
 still more if she adds a long walk to them. Does not common 
 sense dictate in such a case that the woman should pay more 
 attention to herself than to the theories of others. Lying in bed 
 an extra hour or two in the morning, resting much on the sofa 
 during the clay, and retiring to bed at an early hour will enable 
 
ON MARRIED LIFE. 11 
 
 a woman to bear with comparative ease a pregnancy which 
 otherwise would be a dreadful burden. 
 
 Exercise (or rather exhaustion for the two are too often syno- 
 nymous), in the mother will make the foetus unusually lively, and 
 the distressed mother often passes a wretched night, from internal 
 kicks, after spending a heavy day in shopping or marketing. 
 The husband, while his consort is bearing his image, should be 
 assiduous in sparing his wife from fatigue, while she, on the 
 other hand, should spare her strength during the day, that she 
 may wreathe smiles for him while he does her work. 
 
 If a woman exhaust herself with exercise during pregnancy 
 how can she expect to become fitted for nursing ? 
 
 Here again let us apply to our equestrian friend and ask him 
 if brood mares are expected, when in foal, to do the same work 
 as when they were " fillies," or if it be more pleasing let us 
 turn to scripture and the patriarch Jacob. He says when Esau 
 tempts him to go with him " My Lord knoweth that the flocks 
 and the herds with young are with me, and if men should over- 
 drive them one day all the flock will die. Let me lead on softly 
 according as the cattle that goeth before me, are able to endure." 
 Genesis xxxiii. 13, 14. and again, Isaiah xl. 2. we read " He 
 shall feed his flock like a shepherd, and gently lead those that 
 are with young." Surely, what the farmer does for his beasts 
 a man should do for his wife, and if he value her health or she 
 should seek to preserve her loveliness, there should be the same 
 fostering care as is described above. 
 
 The gist then of our present chapter is to persuade the 
 husband to be judicious in his affection and the wife to be gentle 
 with herself. The author has a strong belief that health and 
 happiness come together, and that fatigue and crossness are 
 closely allied ; a nasty speech will spoil a dinner, and a snarl 
 will drive sleep from the eyelids. To preserve health then there 
 should be cheerfulness in the home, not occasionally, but 
 habitually, and this there cannot be, if at the end of every day 
 the husband is exhausted and the wife is weary. 
 
CHAPTEE III. 
 
 . FEEDING AND FOOD. 
 
 IN a very few days after the affectionate couple we described in 
 our last chapter, have entered upon their honeymoon, a very im- 
 portant question arises for their consideration daily, and it is 
 generally discussed after breakfast. 
 
 During the first burst of fond devotion, they can leave to the 
 waiter or the landlady the selection of .their viands, but sooner 
 or later, the question is sure to pop up, " My dear, what shall we 
 have for dinner to day ? " At first, this important matter is dis- 
 cussed with great minuteness, each one vieing with the other in 
 desire to please, and studying each others gastronomic views. 
 As time progresses and nothing is left of the honeymoon, save 
 the jars, the daily question is discussed in another way, and toe 
 often perhaps for the wife's comfort, the husband curtly answers 
 the question, erst so interesting, with the reply, " Whatever you 
 please my dear." But if his car a sposa takes him at his word, 
 and having a sneaking fondness for a cold leg of mutton, offers 
 to regale him with it too, it will probably be found by her, that 
 such an answer is a prelude to a note announcing an unexpected 
 engagement, and a dinner at the club or a restaurant. As most 
 wives however, rather enjoy their good man's return from his busi- 
 ness, and like to hear and retail their mutual news, they endeavour 
 to make dinner the pleasantest meal of the day, and so in conse- 
 quence they study the culinary art and its practical application. 
 What it is advisable for a wife it is necessary for a physician to 
 do in this respect. She has to cater for one whose appetite and 
 digestion are usually good ; he has to prescribe or suggest a 
 diet for one who loathes ordinary food, or cannot digest it 
 if he takes it. In the days when, as a nice young man, I was 
 admitted to tea-tables round which ladies congregated, I heard 
 many a gossip about the doctors in the town ; but of none were 
 such eulogies spoken than old Doctor St. C., whose knowledge 
 of cookery surpassed belief. At a dinner table, his abilities 
 wsre shDwn in talking of the dishes, and he would tell 
 of all the methods in which any particular dainty could 
 be presented. He was equally great on wine and could dis- 
 course eloquently on vintages, but of that the ladies cared 
 little, words scarcely sufficed to sing his praises in the sick- 
 room, and Imppy was the lady whose husband could afford to pay 
 
FEEDING AND FOOD. 13 
 
 for his attendance ; he would sometimes make a delicious basin 
 of arrowroot, or he would instruct the cook how to make a tempt- 
 ing omelette or a most appetising custard. Then perhaps, after 
 a long talk, my respected aunt, who used to patronize me on such 
 occasions, would turn to me then a medical apprentice and 
 say : " There, Tom, you hear that if you want to be a successful 
 doctor you must learn to be a good cook." I took her advice, 
 and years after, repaid it in kind. However much the wife 
 might dislike the answer " Whatever you like," to the question 
 about dinner, she would I fancy, dislike still farther a disserta- 
 tion on the value of food in general, and each dainty in particular, 
 and I cannot imagine that the reader of these pages would relish 
 such a long story any more than the lady, what we have to say 
 therefore, should be short, and to the purpose. 
 
 As a rule, dinners should be hot, appetising and digestible. 
 The dictum is short enough, but it is a text for a long sermon. 
 
 Like many divines, however, we will ignore our text and treat 
 the subject in our usual fashion, and by studying others, draw 
 some deductions for ourselves. Nature has provided, for the young 
 of all mammalia, milk for a sustenance. On that fluid they thrive, 
 increase in weight and strength, and develop intellect and bone, 
 it is clear, therefore, that mSk is a very valuable nutrient, but 
 cows run dry and jenny-asses and mares do not always carry 
 full udders, it is equally clear therefore, that other food is in- 
 tended for animals after the period of infancy. 
 
 The food of the young creature when weaned, is, in some 
 classes purely vegetable, in others purely animal, and in some it 
 is mixed. It is not that the diet is dictated by necessity, but 
 by instinct The Creator has made the jaws of some to grind 
 down roots and boughs, and those of otheis to kill, tear, and rend 
 other animals. The grass-eating deer is fat and fleet, the flesh 
 eating wolf is gaunt and slow, but the endurance of the latter will 
 run down the former, and make it food for itself. Again, the deer 
 and the ox and the horse, all live on the same sort of food, yet 
 have little in common save their bulk. The dog lives on flesh 
 like the lion and cat, yet the three are distinct in their habits 
 and characters. It is not then the food that makes the tiger 
 roar, the sheep bleat, or the donkey bray. No matter what the 
 particular sort of food taken, each animal retains its own per- 
 sonal propensities. It is true that the use of one rather than 
 another method of feeding will make sheep, pigs and oxen more 
 tasty, but as men do not feed themselves with a view to the gas- 
 tronomic enjoyment of ogres we need not descant upon it. But, 
 though a pig will never be a cat, however you may feed him, 
 there are some striking characteristics about certain classes of 
 animals. As a rule, all vegetable eaters are fat, as a rule all 
 animal feeders are spare, thin or meagre. Cceteris paribus the 
 
14 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 two have equal strength, but the last have the greatest en- 
 durance. 
 
 In this respect, however, there is a farther distinction to he 
 made, the horse at ease in the fields can derive sufficient from 
 the grass to keep him alive and well, but, if the master wants 
 the creature to work, he takes him from the pasture and gives 
 him dry food, and still farther, if he want to test his endurance 
 to the utmost, he will give him beef and beer, the former in the 
 shape of a steak round his bit, the latter as a drink pure or 
 mixed with meal. But the careful jobmaster or thoughtful squire 
 knows that a perpetual diet on hard corn cannot be kept up for 
 years without injuring the horses, and he judiciously mingles 
 the dry beans or meal with vetches, carrots, or freshly cut grass, 
 or green oats. From all these observations we deduce that a 
 fluid diet makes creatures look sleek and fat, but does not make 
 them strong, and we can recal with ease, the picture of many a 
 plump looking woman, who is always complaining of weak nerves 
 and trying to live on a diet of bread and butter and tea. Such 
 may be compared to whales who have blubber rather than fat, 
 or to water-melons, which owe their size to the same cause 
 which makes a jelly-fish so huge. 
 
 We deduce in the second place that a vegetable diet en- 
 courages fatness, gives adequate strength and agility, but does 
 not impart endurance, and we remember how we have read of 
 Frenchmen, living on pulse, in vain attempting the work of an 
 English navvy, a task they fulfilled with ease when they imi- 
 tated his diet and indulged in meats and solids. 
 
 An animal diet weight for weight, imparts more than double 
 the support to life yielded by a vegetable one, and is therefore, 
 specially adapted when endurance is required. 
 
 But the lion who gorges himself on ox, requires a sleep after 
 dinner, while the deer who stuffs himself with grass seems rarely 
 to sleep at all, we conclude, therefore, that for one whose business 
 requires unceasing toil, a vegetable diet will be preferable to an 
 animal, while to another whose avocations are comparatively 
 fitful, a long rest alternating with intense bodily fatigue, a pound 
 of steak will do better than a quarter of a stone of potatoes. 
 
 These considerations may enable a man to say how far he 
 will prefer a vegetarian feast or an animal banquet, or the two 
 combined. 
 
 But there are other considerations to be thought of. One 
 man may dine early, and have the appetite and digestion of a 
 wolf, another, may be obliged to attend to his business incessantly 
 from morn to dewy eve, the first would relish anything not ab- 
 solutely bad, the latter has to be tempted with dainties. The 
 one sniffs the sirloin from afar and feels his mouth watering, the 
 other scents it too, but his " gorge rises " and his appetite dis- 
 
FEEDING AND FOOD. 15 
 
 appears. I can well remember feasting with great gusto at a 
 certain London eating house while the Medical session was new, 
 and I was " a young man from the country," while at the end 
 of the session my disgust of that same house was such that I 
 could not endure to enter the street where it was. 
 
 Whenever exhaustion precedes the feed, it should be prefaced 
 by something very light and easy of digestion, hence, soup and 
 fish form the first remove of late dinners, and, except in winter, 
 are rarely seen at lunch. Who, with a beef appetite, cares to sup 
 broth, and how many are there on the other hand, who can eat 
 from a gigot because they have prefaced with vermicelli. Those 
 who live in the country and come home to a late dinner, after a 
 long day's work in town, will find great comfort from a cup of 
 tea and a slice of bread and butter ere they leave, to go on their 
 return journey, and will find that, a slight repast, like that, will 
 prepare them for a heavier one. 
 
 There is yet another method of looking at diet which cannot 
 be altogether passed by. I will introduce it thus : A plant 
 abundantly fed, by manure, &c., gradually becomes " double," 
 i.e., it becomes a noble specimen of its species, but it has no 
 offspring. I have known vines nourished until their leaves were 
 as large as those of rhubarb, but one tiny bunch of grapes on 
 each tree gave scant promise of progeny. 
 
 In like manner, too abundant a manuring will increase straw 
 rather than grain. On the other hand, the gardener who wants 
 seed cuts off from his plants both water and dung. It is much 
 the same with us : The pampered sons of wealth have few chil- 
 dren while the sons of toil and poverty have abundant flocks. 
 
 We can fancy some who would like to live well, so that no 
 noisy infants might disturb their repose, but with those we have 
 no sympathy, and will leave to their own devices. Our hearts 
 would rather warm towards those who see with pain year after 
 year pass by without any branches springing from the parent- 
 stock. Doctor, said one who had so suffered, to me, "I want to 
 tell you something." The young man was the beau ideal of youth- 
 ful health, and at the time of our colloquy was about seven and 
 twenty years of age, a private gentleman living on his means, but 
 studying medicine as a sort of luxury and attending my class. 
 His words ran thus : " Did you ever hear of bread and milk being 
 associated with a family ?" " Not exactly, said I, but why? " 
 " Well," he said, " my wife and I had been married five years and 
 had no children, though we were both particularly anxious for 
 them. One day I read in some book, that a diet of bread and milk 
 would sometimes enable folks to overcome sterility, and I told 
 my wife so, she agreed to try it, if I would. We did, and ere five 
 weeks had elapsed she found the first evidence of pregnancy. 
 Since then we have had a yearly increase." 
 
10 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 To the thoughtful mind one such experience suggests more, 
 and the same idea will be found in the following anecdote for 
 whose authorship I can give no account except that I heard it 
 
 from an Irish clerk. Lady who had wealth and comfort in 
 
 abundance but no offspring, while visiting an old foster nurse on 
 her estate, and one who had abundance of children, asked how it 
 was that she had so large a flock ? " Ah ! said the housewife, it's 
 all along of Pat and the praties." Struck with the observation, 
 the titled lady imitated the diet of Biddy, but, as no sign of in- 
 crease came, she again consulted her old friend. The reply was 
 too coarse for our pages, but we may imitate it by saying that 
 Lord probably did not live on potatoes as " her Pat " did. 
 
 We have got thus far without saying definitely anything about 
 the digestibility of this or that dish ; no wonder, for we con- 
 sider everything, which ordinarily comes to table, good to eat : if 
 the/stomach and palate enjoy it, good and well, if not, few people 
 will indulge in anything. 
 
 I have been asked a thousand times " Doctor what may I eat?" 
 My answer always is : " Whatever you like best." If the illness 
 is such that no choice can be made, I suggest a dish, as I would 
 a medicine. 
 
 There are some exceptions to this rule, but I could not enter 
 into them without writing a dissertation upon indigestion, &c., 
 practically there are no exceptions to the rule amongst the healthy, 
 that people may just eat what they like. 
 
 It is time now for us to return to our text. We said, that 
 as a rule, dinners should be hot. A few minutes thought will 
 suggest the reasonableness of the rule. The temperature of the 
 stomach is 96 Fahrenheit, and that heat is important to diges- 
 tion. If during the artificial digestion which the chemist shows 
 to students during his lecture, he reduces the temperature below 
 70 the process stops ; the ingredients are all as they were before 
 except the caloric, but they no longer act. In the same way an 
 individual whose circulation is not strong enough to keep up 
 the warmth in his stomach by a vigorous supply of new blood, 
 to replace that which has been chilled, cannot take a cold dinner, 
 or an ice, after a hot one, without having evidence that his diges- 
 tion has been impeded. A hot dinner gives an impulse to life, 
 a cold one draws upon the vital powers ere it reciuits him. I 
 can imagine some of our navvies eating frozen horse with impu- 
 nity, but I cannot believe that a similar chunk given to one of 
 Franklin's starving sailors, staggering literally on his last legs, 
 in the vain hope of reaching safety, would revive his energy, he 
 is cold enough already, and a mass of cold meat would not warm 
 him. Many can remember accounts of death arising from drink- 
 ing cold water when the frame has been exhausted by violent 
 exercise, and cold meat is quite as bad. The jaded mechanic 
 
FEEDING AND FOOD. 17 
 
 will digest with ease a slice of mutton fresh from the baker's 
 oven, whilst a similar joint cold will take a return ticket, and 
 instead of becoming chyme in his stomach, will become " heart- 
 burn " in his throat. Even " Nature " knows this much, and 
 always warms the milk which feeds her sucking young ones. 
 
 Cold cheese to many is indigestible as leather, yet I have never 
 found a stomach which quarelled with it hot. Toasted cheese, 
 fresh from the Dutch oven, is one of the most digestible dainties 
 which enters the dining- or sick-room. 
 
 It will readily be seen, that the sensation of warmth imparted 
 by such condiments as pepper, mustard, and horse-radish, is not 
 equal to the heat given by fire. The first may be appetising, 
 but they can't make cold mutton equal to hot We have shown 
 elsewhere that cold wine is not so good as hot negus, and that 
 cold brandy-and-water will sometimes produce eructations which 
 a hot mixture will allay. 
 
 These matters are of small importance when persons are in 
 high health, but where the constitution is somewhat impaired, 
 they cannot be neglected with impunity. 
 
 Again, a dinner should be such as to suggest the idea of 
 pleasure in eating it. Now a man does not like, as a rule, to 
 sit down to a strange dish, or sometimes to an old .dainty under 
 a new form. We can eat ducks which revel in mud, and swine 
 .who eat with their feet in the pig trough, yet our gorge rises at 
 horse-steaks, and a bit of a " bow-wow " will produce an indiges- 
 tion in an Alderman. We can relish oysters but can't manage 
 snails, and revel in whitebait while we reject frogs' thighs. 
 Stomachs, like their owners, are apt to follow a sort of beaten 
 track, and refuse to leave it for novelties. New flavours are 
 therefore, more apt to disagree than old ones, and a familiar dish 
 will suit a tired man, while a new one will give him dyspepsia. 
 
 It matters little what the old repast is. It may be to the 
 Esquimaux a bit of half putrid seal, to the Irishman a hard 
 potato e, to the Frenchman a clove of garlic, or to the Alderman 
 sofne green fat. Yet if it " make the mouth water " it will be 
 appetising and digestible. To ordinary beings ordinary diet is 
 better than perpetual change. When we say that a meal should 
 be digestible this pre-supposes a knowledge of the individual who 
 is to eat it, and the condition of his stomach. I have been told, 
 that in the first Arctic expedition of Franklin, the cook of the 
 party came to him one day, with the remark that he " wanted 
 the leather breeches he wore, to cook them for dinner !" and 
 Franklin told my informant that he not only gave them, but 
 partook of them with relish ; but no one would thence infer that 
 leather was digestible, and would make soup equal to " Julienne." 
 I have too, some friends who, from the exigencies of their posi- 
 tion, enjoy tainted fish and stinking eggs, yet I should find these 
 
 c 
 
18 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 indigestible in the extreme. Cucumber is said to be one of the 
 worst things going, for the stomach, yet I know a delicate woman, 
 who almost lives upon it during the time it is in season. I 
 know another who suffers misery from a meat diet, and yet 
 thrives upon cold fruit. Some of us revel in dishes swimming 
 with fat, oil, or butter, others cannot bear even a soupgon of 
 'oleaginous matters. No code can be drawn up which shall suit 
 every one, and each, therefore, must be a judge for himself. 
 
 Apropos to this part of my subject, I must touch upon what 
 is called "rareness." There are some who love to see their 
 steaks juicy, and their sirloin full of gravy, there are others 
 whose stomach is turned by that which bears the look of " raw- 
 ness," each averring that the condition which himself enjoys is 
 the most conducive to health. 
 
 As regards digestibility there is in reality little difference 
 between the one and the other; and what little there is leans to 
 the side of rareness, raw meat is by itself very digestible (even 
 by the infant) far more so, than when cooked. But, and the excep- 
 tion is important, underdone meat is apt to produce tapeworm. 
 The dog, fox, wolf, and all carnivorous animals are subject to 
 this disease, and so is that man, who from choice or necessity, 
 eats food insufficiently cooked. The germ or eggs of certain para- 
 sites which infest the human body are to be found in an embryo 
 form in the sheep, cow, pig goat, hare, and rabbit, and if not 
 killed ere we take them, they begin to grow into the perfect 
 animals in our intestines. Efficient cookery destroys them. 
 
 A medical friend one time came to me with manifest concern 
 on his features, and drew forth, from a mysterious looking parcel 
 the remains of a ] eg of pork he and his wife had been dining on. 
 "While finishing with a nice little slice, his eye caught sight of 
 some curious looking holes, he thought of "measles" in the pig, 
 and could eat no more. To know the worst he came to me, 
 asking me if there were really any creatures there, and if so, 
 whether they were alive, for if they were he would take an emetic 
 at once, rather than be a nest for a set of tapeworms. On 
 using the microscope I soon found myriads of what we call 
 hydatids, which consist of a ring of sharp hooks and a bladder, 
 which though very innocent looking, will grow into a curious 
 creature, which is prettier in a quack doctor's window than in a 
 Christian's bowels, but a\l were dead, the cooking had effectually 
 killed them, for the germs of tapeworm cannot bear roasting 
 any better than a philosopher. 
 
 It is not pleasant to think that any of us may have eaten boiled 
 caterpillars with our cabbages, but it would be far worse to be- 
 lieve that we had swallowed them alive. 
 
 In our next Essay we propose to consider the much vexed 
 subject of Drink. 
 
CHAPTER TV. 
 
 THE DKINK WE CONSUME. 
 
 WE have aleady said, that after breakfast is over, the first 
 question of the loving couple generally is, " What shall we have 
 for dinner to-day ? " The query is usually propounded by the 
 lady. When the dinner arrives, the first question from the host 
 to his guest, if he has one of the male sex, is, " What will you 
 take to drink ?" I remember well such a question being pro- 
 pounded, to me, and as ale, porter, and beer, were those I was to 
 choose from, I, being " sworn at Highgate," answered, selecting 
 in the order given, only to learn .that none were on the premises. 
 I can also remember an anecdote told of some water-drinking 
 squire, who remarked after dinner, " Gentlemen, who's for wine ? 
 I'm for none," and there being a pause, he added, " John, you 
 may put the bottles by." 
 
 These stories, if they stood alone, would suffice to show that 
 very opposite ideas exist amongst us respecting the beverages to 
 be drunk. But when we find large and influential societies 
 advocating a total abstinence from all those drinks which have 
 been for a long time most popular, we can well conceive that a 
 discussion on the merits of malt and pure water, may be fre- 
 quently indulged in between married couples just entering life. 
 It may be that one or other is a devoted teetotaller, and is not 
 going to change the mind for any consideration ; with such we 
 will not interfere. It is far more likely that the man has, ere - 
 his wedding, been somewhat jovial as a bachelor, and the lady, 
 as is so common with that sex, contented either with water or 
 very small beer. Both, we will presume, are desirous to live a 
 regular and temperate life, and to conduct themselves in every 
 way as respectable individuals. 
 
 The questions they would discuss are something like the fol- 
 lowing : Is it necessary to have any malt liquor, or any 
 other alcoholic drink at all ? Or shelving this question as 
 inconvenient, there might simply be the consideration, " What 
 the tipple shall be, ale, porter, beer, wine, spirit, or something of 
 everything ?" 
 
 To many, the first inquiry would seem the simplest ; the 
 answer, as a general rule, would be in the negative. It is not 
 necessary to life that we should drink any form of spirituous 
 liquors, therefore, it is argued, " we can do without them, and 
 
 c 2 
 
20 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 we will." Let us see the value of this conclusion, by applying it 
 something else. Let us take tea, beef, puddings, sugar, and 
 tobacco : Tea, certainly is not a necessary of life, yet there is 
 scarcely a temperance festival in which it does not flow, like 
 beer does at a common jollification. The Irishman thrives on 
 potatoes, vegetarians grow fat upon cabbage, and horses flourish 
 on oats ; surely then it is not necessary for Englishmen to have 
 roast beef. They too can do without it. The poor fellow sitting 
 by the roadside all day has to endure privation, cold, heat, 
 and wet, and to work hard and incessantly, yet he never gets 
 pudding. I cannot myself remember eating pudding during 
 the last twenty years, and I am surely right in concluding that 
 man may live without it, and though sweets are much used by 
 high and low, we may say the same of them. No Grecian hero 
 vaunted in Homeric verse, drank sugar in his tea, and we do 
 not find amongst the luxuries which Lais set before her admirers 
 that there were French bonbons. The hardy Esquimaux, than 
 whom none live a life of greater hardship, know little of life's 
 real sweets, and the North American savage is guiltless of 
 crushing the cane to extract its juice. That all the inhabitants 
 of Northern Europe lived to a good old age without tobacco, 
 none can deny ; consequently, it is not necessary to existence. 
 Yet, beef, pudding, tea and sugar, grace the table of each tee- 
 totaller, and very often the pipe, cigar, and the powdery snuff, 
 are familiar to his lips and nose. If man chooses to indulge in 
 one, or all of these as luxuries, why should he not add to them 
 the luxury of ale, if he chooses, or wine if he prefers it ? 
 
 It is, however, said that alcohol is a poison, and injurious to 
 health well, so is the mustard and salt, which we eat with our 
 beef; and the tobacco which we smoke is no better, besides, if it 
 be a poison, it certainly is slow in operation. Teetotallers die 
 as early as their neighbours, and there are few who do not 
 know many an old sot. I was once told by a life insurance 
 friend, of a saying of his manager viz., "At the board where 
 I used to sit was a director, and when a proposal came before 
 him involving the habitual indulgence in whisky in the life," 
 he said, " I don't believe it's half as bad as people say it is ; I 
 had one friend who never drank anything stronger than tea, and 
 another who went to bed drunk every night, yet they lived to 
 the ages of seventy-eight and seventy-nine respectively." 
 
 There has been so much nonsense talked of late years upon 
 the real value of fermented liquors, that it is somewhat difficult 
 to separate the grain from the chaff, but we will attempt it. 
 For anyone who wishes to convince himself of the strict worth, 
 say of ale, let him first dine without it for a week, then for 
 another week take his pint daily, and repeat the process for the 
 sake of certainty. If he be in good health, he will find that 
 
THE DRINK WE CONSUME. 21 
 
 when lie drinks water he will eat double the quantity that he 
 does when he takes beer, and he may then elect whether he 
 prefers to run the risk of being a glutton or a drunkard. I will 
 not say that either is probable, but I do know that teetotallers 
 have killed themselves by over-eating, just as tipplers have died 
 from over-drinking. Now, if when I dine, drinking water alone, 
 I require four good slices of mutton, or other food, ere my 
 natural wants are stayed, and while so living retain my usual 
 bulk and strength, and if when drinking a pint of ale with my 
 dinner, two such slices of meat suffice for my wants, and while 
 so living rny bulk and strength remain the same, is it not clear 
 that the pint of ale contains as much nourishment as two 
 slices of pork, or other dish ? 
 
 A story is told of the well-known Benjamin Franklin, to the 
 effect that, while working up his way as a printer, he was 
 desirous of saving every penny he possibly could. Thinking 
 one day that he spent two-pence in ale, and having heard that 
 it was only a luxury, he determined to " put it down," and save 
 the money. He did so, but he soon found that he had not 
 strength for his daily toil. He must, therefore, he thought, 
 spend the money in extra food, or in beer. He tried how far 
 two-pence would, go in bread, meat, &c., and at length came to 
 the conclusion that it was more economical to take his modicum 
 of beer as usual. 
 
 To all intents and purposes, then, ale, &c., is food. As food 
 it has its peculiarities, as have meat, bread, milk, sugar, &c. 
 Being liquid, it is very soon digested, being fluid it soon enters 
 into the blood, and it soon passes out again. A slice of mutton 
 will take three or four hours before it can enter into the system 
 wholly, and it enters partially during the whole of that time. 
 A pint of ale enters the system in twenty minutes. It has 
 been often said, that after spirituous liquors, the person taking 
 them wants them perpetually. The same is true of tea. How 
 many are there who can bear the notion of going without their 
 tea, and yet who would reject that beverage because they want 
 it every day. 
 
 But is it true, that a man, dining as a teetotaller, can do for a 
 longer time without food than one who takes a moderate 
 amount of beer with his meals ? As a rule, of which I have 
 not yet met with an exception, the " abstainer " is always more 
 hungry than the " temperate ;" he never seems to have enough. 
 I know many persons who make only one substantial meal in 
 the four and twenty hours, but none are " teetotal." There is 
 another very important peculiarity of alcoholic food, which 
 must not be lost sight of viz., that individuals, both children 
 and adults, are often too weak, or too fatigued, to eat solid meat. 
 To such, a drink of beer will give an appetite, or a glass of 
 
22 THE PRESEKVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 wine will give the exhausted man the courage to put other food 
 into his mouth. I have had much to do in the way of giving 
 advice, respecting the best way of bringing up the young 
 members of delicate families. I have known boys and girls, 
 varying from three to five, go for hours without touching their 
 food, or going to steal any from the pantry. The bread and 
 milk for breakfast reappears at dinner, only to go away again 
 untasted. Happy the child, if it goes away without having 
 first witnessed the use of the rod, or the whip a plan some- 
 times resorted to when the horse and the water are brought 
 together, and the former will not drink. If to such children a 
 wine-glassful of sweet brandy and water, or any other stimulant 
 be given, the food will generally be taken with avidity after- 
 wards. In carrying out my views, I have -met with frequent 
 opposition, but in no instance that I can recal, has the preju- 
 dice, when once overcome, found itself justified. 
 
 As a physician, I know that in many .cases of delicacy of 
 constitution, which shows itself - in wasting away, and a loath- 
 ing of all ordinary food, good ale, wine, or brandy and water, 
 well sweetened to the palate, will not only sustain life, but 
 positively restore, to health, quite independently of any other diet. 
 
 With such facts as these before us, it is impossible to doubt 
 that stimulants, as they are often called, are food. They are 
 so to the horse, as well as to ourselves. Travelling once in Ire- 
 land, I came to a place where I could get no car to take me 
 forward, and I was pressed for time to arrive at my destination. 
 My driver agreed to take his own beast on, provided that I 
 would pay for some meal and whisky. I did so, saw the two 
 duly mingled, and taken by the animal with great pleasure, and 
 his second performance in harness was just as good as the first : 
 the two stages were about forty-five miles, and the time of our 
 stop about ten minutes. Since then I have known of a great 
 many horses treated with wine and whisky for exhaustion, and 
 completely restored. 
 
 That " liquors " are food being once granted, it behoves us to 
 inquire into their varied value. As a rule, ale contains more 
 nourishment than porter, and a glass of it suffices to stay the 
 appetite, if taken as a luncheon, for about three hours, or less, 
 according to the density of the ale, but it has a propensity to 
 make a woman fat, and a young man bilious. It is of great 
 help to nursing mothers, but if taken in too great abundance, 
 puts flesh upon the nurse's bones, rather than milk into her 
 breasts. Porter is somewhat inferior to ale as a feeder, but 
 with some stomachs it agrees better ; taken in excess it gives a 
 tendency to gout and rheumatism. The two combined, as half- 
 and half, form a tipple to which I still give individual preference. 
 Beer is simply either the one or the other in a weaker form. 
 
; THE DRINK WE CONSUME. 23 
 
 To a man exhausted by fatiguing labour, and to a woman 
 pulled down by diarrhoea "while nursing, ale is preferable to 
 wine. It combines quantity, food, and stimulant, more nicely 
 blended than in any other fluid which I know. 
 
 If any of these disagree with the stomach, or produce nausea, 
 headache, &c., they may be changed for wine or other liquid. 
 
 Indulgence to excess in any spirituous liquor is very likely 
 to produce gout. 
 
 Wine, as a rule, is stronger than beer, and in estimating its 
 value, or its effects, we may consider it as a necessary, and as a 
 luxury. 
 
 We want a glass of wine when tired with mental work, or 
 when the day is too hot, and we too perspiring to indulge in 
 much fluid. On such occasions we go to wine, because it is, so 
 to speak, brandy and water ready mixed, and the stronger it is, 
 the better far our purpose. Port and sherry are those we usually 
 select for this. But wine is far more generally drunk as a 
 luxury. When Paterfamilias thinks of stocking his cellar, if he 
 has one, or ordering from his wine merchant, he considers, or he 
 ought to do, what he is ordering his wine for, for his own 
 drinking, for his friends' consumption, or for ostentation, whether 
 he wants to get fuddled for the smallest possible cost, or whether 
 he wants to avoid being " heady " at all. 
 
 If he wants to go to sleep after dinner and feel " tight " for a 
 small sum he will very naturally buy cheap and new port, 
 sherry, Malaga or Marsala. If on the contrary, he wishes to 
 regale his friends and enjoy their conversation, he will put before 
 them and indulge himself with old port .and sherry, "East 
 Indian Madeira " and abundance of fine claret or other light wine. 
 
 The heavy wines compared with the light are in liquid 
 foods what beef is to bread in the solid ones. Such wines as 
 the French, Khenisli, Hungarian and Greek, are spurs to the 
 imagination and oil to the tongue. Who is there who cannot 
 remember in his younger days, how the champagne at supper 
 gave brilliancy to his wit, during the subsequent dances, or the 
 sparkles that flew from beauty's eyes, during the latter part of a 
 fete cliampetre, where corks and beaux were " popping " satis- 
 factorily ? 
 
 On the other hand many of us may recal with pain, scenes of 
 uproarious argument and quarrelsome conversation which have 
 followed potations of port. The heavy wines dull the imagi- 
 nation and promote stupidity, while at the same time they clog 
 the tongue and make us roar when we only ought to speak. 
 
 To those who have a proclivity to gout, and who can afford 
 to drink light wines, the latter will prove more eligible for an 
 ordinary beverage than ale, porter or beer. As a rule the white 
 are better than the dark wines. It was long ere I knew the diffe- 
 
24 TBE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 rence between them. Both are the product of a dark skinned 
 grape, the colour of the skin is not soluble in water but it dissolves 
 in a solution of alcohol. In the making of white wine, the grape 
 juice is drawn off before the fermentation begins, and the grape 
 skins do not come into contact with the wine at all. In the 
 dark wines the expressed juice remains mingled with the skins, 
 stems, and stones of the grape, until fermentation has advanced 
 sufficiently to produce alcohol, which then dissolves the colour 
 ing matter. As the skin, stones, and stems contain some tannin 
 or astringent matter, the dark wines have a somewhat more 
 " binding " influence on the bowels than the lighter varieties. 
 
 The various forms of spirits differ from ale and wine in their 
 strength, and I think also in their effects on some constitutions. 
 Champagne amongst wines, and brandy amongst spirits, are 
 prominent in their value of curing or alleviating vomiting ; none 
 are more useful in allaying sea sickness, yet if taken to excess 
 there are none which produce such nausea and "good-for- 
 nothingness." There is no spirit which seems to have a stronger 
 influence over the sexual organs than brandy, and indulgence in 
 it will go far to produce a total loss of power. I have known 
 strong young men who could not take it at night without an 
 unexpected discharge during sleep, and I have known others who 
 recovering from the effects of an excessive flow have rendered 
 themselves hopelessly effete by an orgie on brandy and water. 
 
 In an earlier part of this chapter, I spoke about old wine. 
 Those who pay close attention to the value of every thing they 
 come into contact with, think equally of old "brandy, rum or 
 whiskey. The same may be said of medicinal tinctures, especially 
 of the Tinctura Ferri Sesquiohloridi. Age improves them all. 
 The reason is, not that time dissipates the alcohol they contain, 
 it is that in all these liquors a slow conversion takes place of 
 the spirit into a form of ether, which as a stimulant, is far more 
 pleasant to the palate, the stomach and the constitution than 
 the coarse alcohol was. I have repeatedly met with instances 
 in which the stomach has rejected every form of stimulant but 
 old brandy. 
 
 Whiskey, whether Scotch or Irish is, so far as I can learn, the 
 most wholesome or the least innocuous of all the spirits. Yet 
 I have known a single glass of whiskey toddy taken by a 
 nursing mother, invariably produce vomiting during the whole 
 of the next day in the infant, a result not brought about by any 
 other spirit. 
 
 To indulge in rum, is not judicious in anyone, as that fluid is 
 apt to taint the breath, and make it more foul than will garlic, 
 onions or any other cause. 
 
 Gin, a very common tipple, has apparently a special influence 
 over the kidneys, in some nurses on the breast, hence the 
 
THE DRINK WE CONSUME. 2 
 
 physician administers it in cases of dropsy and recommends it 
 to mothers, whose strength is somewhat overtasked by their 
 daily toil, and who in consequence would, were it not for the 
 stimulant, have bad and " windy " milk for their babies during 
 the night. A glass of gin and water taken by materfamilias 
 at night will make her and the baby, and consequently, the 
 husband sleep undisturbed. Much has been said upon the 
 prejudicial effects of spirits upon the liver ; after investigating 
 the subject closely for five and twenty years, I can find no 
 logical evidence to support the assertion. Temperance story 
 books tell of gin drinkers' liver, but as the disease occurs in 
 those who are strictly temperate, and in cows, who do not 
 certainly frequent gin palaces, it is clearly not due to the spirit. 
 
 The really bad effects of alcohols are, that they make the 
 mouth uncomfortably dry, and if taken to excess, exhaust the 
 nervous system. But here let me say a word about exhaustion. 
 Men who have often to get through an immense amount of 
 work in a short period (as engineers and lawyers have, when 
 preparing for passing " standing orders " in Parliament), are 
 unable to find time to eat a dinner, or if they do, it incapacitates 
 them for work. To enable them therefore, to get along in their 
 match against Time, they sip wine, or brandy and water. When 
 all is over the brains arid men are prostrated, and teetotal 
 lecturers preach to them, that " it is all along of their having 
 indulged in stimulants." Surely, the real blame must be thrown 
 upon the toil which the liquor has enabled them to go through. 
 
 Another thing I would like to point out, ere I leave my 
 subject viz., that drunkeness is an hereditary disease : in the 
 vast majority of instances, it is a form of insanity and as such 
 is attended with other manifestations of disordered brain. It 
 is associated in some, with religious enthusiasm, and the alter- 
 nations from excess of piety, to excessive drunkenness often 
 scandalise those, who do not know that they may have a 
 common source : sometimes it is associated with propensity to 
 lawless love or other forms of badness, and very generally it is 
 associated with great cleverness. The best workmen in every 
 trade are frequently drunkards, and masters are obliged to 
 tolerate them, inasmuch as none others of temperate habits can 
 be found to replace them. An immense number of people 
 drink largely without getting delirium tremens, they who do 
 suffer from that disease, are those in whose blood insanity 
 already exists. It is this union between fits of drunkenness, 
 insanity and crime which has pointed the shafts of so many 
 teetotal advocates, and frightened so many weak minds from 
 taking such moderate amounts of alcoholic food as would be good 
 for them. 
 
 We have said so much upon the use of fermented liquids 
 
26 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 that we have left ourselves small space to talk of others. 
 N'importe, we have not much to say. People may please 
 themselves whether they take tea, coffee or chocolate, tea as a 
 general rule is " tired Nature's sweet restorer." The Australian 
 explorers tell us that every man in their expedition, thought 
 more of tea than of brandy, and would rather lose a keg of 
 tobacco than a store of Bohea. 
 
 Once I was an unbeliever in tea, and during my many days 
 of solitary misery, endured in consequence of the delicacy of 
 children, and their absence with Mamma at the sea side, I tried 
 to do without it. Hot water and cold, milk and cream, soda 
 water and brandy and water and nothing at all, were tried in 
 succession to sweep those cobwebs from the brain, which a 
 dinner and a snooze left behind them. All in vain, I was good for 
 nothing, and the evenings intended to be devoted to work, were 
 passed in smoking, gossip or novel reading. I took to tea, and 
 all was changed. A good dinner, " forty winks " and a cup of 
 good tea will help a man to get through " no end " of work 
 especially of a mental kind. 
 
 Yet tea is not harmless, and there are few things more certain 
 to produce flatulence in the overworked female. 
 
 Green tea is especially an excitant of the nervous system, 
 and drives away sleep, by exaggerating the faint noises which 
 occur in every house at night, and making them appear such 
 dreadful sounds as those which are supposed to indicate fire, 
 burglary or murder. We have been a careful reader of all those 
 accounts which tell of endurance of prolonged fatigue, and 
 have been so struck with the almost unanimous evidence in 
 favour of vegetable diet and tea as a beverage that, we have 
 determined in every instance where long nursing, as of a fever 
 patient is required, to recommend nothing stronger than tea for 
 the watcher. But it must ever be borne in mind that tea 
 though good as a stay, cannot be trusted to as a staff. Folks 
 who live mainly on the infusion of China's herb become as 
 " shaky " as those who live on gin. 
 
 To sum up our views, we would say once again, let each one 
 who values health drink what seeineth best to him or her, 
 irrespective of the opinions of others If he has no reason to 
 complain of its effects he may fairly neglect the diatribes of 
 other people. One who believes that He who made the vine 
 to grow had a /Son who converted water into wine for the 
 benefit of those at a feast, who had already drunk the ordinary 
 provision made for them, may well afford to laugh at the- satires 
 of the teetotaller. " The Son of Man came eating and drinking 
 and was called' a wine bibber'the friend of Publicans andSinners." 
 What He bore, His followers may do, and the temperate Christian 
 may yet hold his own against any " total abstinence " opponent. 
 
CHAPTEE V. 
 
 THE HOUSE WE LIVE IN. 
 
 WHEN a boy, I heard a canny old surgeon say, in reference to 
 houses, fools build, wise men buy, but wiser still take, he was 
 at the time a tenant of a very convenient residence, but when 
 obliged to turn out, he built a house for himself. It was clear 
 then that the proverb had reference more to the pocket than to 
 comfort or convenience. Can a man show himself more of a fool 
 by constructing an edifice where and how he likes, than by 
 tenanting another, faulty both in arrangement and position ? 
 
 The majority of us, however, are unable to build in towns, 
 where every available space is already filled up, and we are 
 obliged to rent .such dwellings as architects or contractors have de- 
 vised for us : houses which are run up on the principle of making 
 money go as far as possible, and bringing in as large an amount 
 in the shape of interest as can be got out of the public using 
 them. But, though often obliged to live in a dwelling we have 
 not specially designed, there are few who do not indulge at 
 times with building castles in the air, or fashioning mansions in 
 the skies into which there should be the largest amount of com- 
 fort, and the fewest possible annoyances. 
 
 In designing such a house, one naturally thinks of all the things 
 which he grumbles at in his present abode, and of the many 
 desiderata he requires. Sometimes, good fortune may so far 
 favour him, as to give him the opportunity he seeks for, and he 
 is enabled to exercise his skill in planning a comfortable family 
 home. 
 
 I was once in such a condition, and amused myself by making 
 plans to day, only to alter them to-morrow ; while going through 
 my studies I met with an unexpected ally in a Homoeopa- 
 thic physician who was as successful in his architectural designs 
 as if he had been both bom and bred to the business. He 
 kindly invited me to the house he had designed, and as I am 
 somewhat cosmopolitan in my notions, and can enjoy social 
 converse with those who differ from me in certain points, I ac- 
 cepted the invitation. The day was bitterly cold, and the walk 
 from the adjoining railway station was through snow up to our 
 knees. As an habitual sufferer from cold feet, visions of misery 
 haunted me, and I feared that physical suffering would prevent 
 mental enjoyment. My fears were vain, exercise kept me warm 
 until we reached the door ; and when once inside I forgot all 
 about the cold I had gone through. 
 
28 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 Let me describe in as few words as possible the characteris- 
 tics of the house. The kitchen was near the dining-room, the 
 front door and the heating apparatus. No staircase was to 
 be seen. The drawmgrroom was large enough for a ball or con- 
 cert-room, and the sitting-rooms opened into each other and the 
 staircase. The bed-rooms were all furnished with a ventilating 
 apparatus in the ceiling, and communicated with a main shaft, 
 along which a draft was produced by its opening just under the 
 kitchen fire. This ventilating apparatus could be regulated at 
 will by means of openings in or above the door, and a shutter 
 to open or close the aperture in the ceiling. Another shaft, 
 with openings for the different floors, communicated with tha 
 open air, and was furnished at the place of entrance with a 
 small furnace and a serpentine arrangement of iron tubing for 
 heating with boiling water, and a stop-cock for regulating the 
 flow to and from the boiler, so as to keep the temperature of 
 the heated surface at any point desired. So nicely had the 
 servant learned to manage this, that I never once during my 
 prolonged visit felt either too hot or too cold. 
 
 Neither before nor since have 1 been in a residence which 
 seemed to be so thoroughly comfortable, and the doctor and 
 myself were soon at work over the plan of another. Just as 
 mine was finished, upon paper, however, I found that I could 
 buy a house, and circumstances almost compelling me to pur- 
 chase, my plans were never - carried out, and I had to put up 
 with an ordinary brick and mortar tenement. 
 
 Though foiled in my scheme, I have not ceased to think of 
 the conditions necessary for making a dwelling-house comfort- 
 able and healthy. The main requisites are, I think, that it 
 shall be dry, airy, warm, and free from " smoking chimneys." 
 
 To be dry, a house should of course be well drained. It 
 should also be free from the close vicinity of overshadowing 
 trees. A country mansion or a lowly cottage embowered in 
 woods is picturesque to the eye of the artist, and suggestive 
 of love and domestic felicity to the imagination of the poet ; 
 but in stern reality it is too often the abode of rheumatism and 
 ill-health, and its floors are favourite haunts of newts, ascards, 
 frogs, and toads, with occasionally an intrusive snail. Preserves 
 soon become sour, and wine is constantly sick. The chimneys 
 usually in such places smoke abominably, and during the cold 
 days of winter no amount of fire seems to give warmth. 
 
 To overcome such a state of things some plan of heating the 
 entering air must be adopted, and pans of common quick lime 
 kept in the dampest spots. The most effectual cure, however, 
 is to cut down the trees. But there is another way by which 
 a residence may be damp i.e., by daily, or at any rate by fre- 
 quent washing. In days gone by the floating homes of our 
 
THE HOUSE WE LIVE IN. 29 
 
 seamen were scoured daily under the idea that as cleanliness 
 was next to godliness, a good scrub of the floors would compen- 
 sate for the profanity so common then in the navy. The result 
 was, that disease was so common as to attract the attention of 
 Parliament, and if I recollect rightly, a commission was issued, 
 one of whose recommendations was that the use of water in 
 washing the covered decks was to be done away with. The 
 advice was followed, and an immediate improvement was no- 
 ticed. Prejudice might, however, induce an active-minded 
 English matron to deride the experience of great he-fellows in 
 ships : we will, therefore, give from memory, an account of Dr. 
 Copeland's experience. He was, he tells us, consulted by a 
 lady respecting the prevalence of scrofula in her school. She 
 had been very successful as a teacher, and was particularly an- 
 xious to do her duty, as a mother, to those under her care. She 
 fed her flock on the best, and lodged them in the cleanest and 
 airiest of beds and chambers. The doctor inspected everything, 
 and was at a loss to account for the frequency of the complaint, 
 or suggest a remedy ; everything inside and out seemed en rfyle. 
 A casual remark of his upon the whiteness of the boards, where 
 they were visible, elicited the information that all in the house 
 were washed daily. The sagacious physician at once detected 
 the flaw, and recommended an almost total abstinence from the 
 use of the pail. His advice was followed, and the scholars be- 
 came as conspicuous for their health as they had previously 
 been for the reverse. 
 
 Two or three days ago, I was myself consulted in a bad 
 case of scrofula in a fine-looking young woman of twenty-one, 
 who had suffered from it for many years, and I could trace it to 
 no other cause than her mother's strong propensity to have the 
 music of scouring daily in her ears. 
 
 Let housewives learn hence that an excess of cleanliness 
 is prejudicial to health, rather than a means of ensuring its 
 continuance, and to indulge ourselves in the whim of being 
 mal a propos, let us recommend them also to notice that when- 
 ever a change of air is recommended for the cure of diseases 
 which are allied to scrofula, they should, where possible, select 
 some spot built on sand or gravel, and not embowered in woods. 
 
 The next point about a house is, that it should be airy. 
 
 Rooms heated by fire and gas, and kept as closely as possible 
 from draughts, are the most fertile sources of " colds ; " I know it 
 from prolonged experience. For many a night have I faced a 
 cold rain or moist wind when going to and from our medical 
 school to deliver my winter course of lectures, and have come 
 back to a cozy arm chair in a snug study, heated by a jolly fire, 
 and blazing with gas, only to find that I had somehow or other 
 caught another nasty cold. 
 
30 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 The sudden change from moist cold to dry heat will make 
 the healthy catarrhal, while the change from a heated room to 
 a cold passage or bed-room, will make a sickly patient worse. 
 
 When speaking of airiness I do not mean individuals to en- 
 courage draughts of cold air about their persons, nor can I recom- 
 mend them to do as a medical friend of mine is said to do, 
 viz., open the windows of the bed-room at night to get the fresh 
 country air, which the town-smoke vitiates during the day, so as 
 to make it too impure for use. There* may be differences of 
 opinion on the subject amongst those who observe little, but, 
 amongst those who do, the belief is entertained that warm air 
 moderately impure (as in a closed bed-room where two or more 
 are sleeping) is less noxious to the invalid and those whose 
 health is shaky, than is cold air and absolute purity. The purity 
 does not counterbalance the effect of the chill. Of this, more 
 anon. 
 
 It will be asked, and naturally too, how can you prevent an 
 airy house from being cold during the winter. The answer is 
 simple : all the air which enters should be warmed. I have 
 lived in a house, where during the coldest day in a very frosty 
 winter, it was a matter of indifference whether the door of the 
 sitting-room was open or shut, and during the time of that resi- 
 dence, colds were almost unknown in the domicile. 
 
 Of the value of a heating apparatus the following case is an 
 example : Mrs. , a lady living in the country, in a com- 
 fortable old-fashioned house, of active habits, and surrounded 
 with luxuries, began, to suffer from sneezing. As soon as she 
 left the bed-room the fits began and continued with scarcely two 
 minutes interval throughout the day. Her doctors could not 
 cure her, nor did she find any relief until she reached a warmer 
 atmosphere than that she had been breathing. Warned by a 
 recurrence of the attack the following winter, the husband in- 
 troduced a heating apparatus into the dwelling, and with its aid 
 he was able to enjoy his wife's presence in person rather than 
 through the medium of the post-office. Similar instances will 
 be given in our chapter on the value of heat. 
 
 The value of airiness and the necessity for warm-airiness 
 being once acknowledged, it becomes a matter for consideration 
 how the desideratum is to be attained. This will become a 
 question for the architect or the builder more frequently than 
 for the physician. I will content myself with noting one con- 
 trivance only which can be adopted in any town, viz., let 
 there be in the hall or in any other convenient space a gas 
 stove, and let it communicate below with a tin or other tube of 
 large dimensions, which opens into the outward air. Never 
 mind the gaseous products ; theoretically they may be prejudi- 
 cial ; by this method they are practically harmless. In Italy, 
 
THE HOUSE WE LIVE IN. 81 
 
 churches and galleries are warmed by braziers of charcoal, and so 
 long as there is circulation of air no bad effect is to be noticed. 
 The influence of gas and charcoal on air is chiefly perceptible 
 and prejudicious when it consumes the air we breathe as well 
 as heats it. A gas stove without a feed pipe from the outer 
 air does the one ; with such a pipe it introduces far more fresh 
 air than it can by possibility consume. 
 
 Lastly, if possible, the house should be without smoky chim- 
 neys. Eespecting this we might write a dissertation, but we 
 will content ourselves with a few observations. There cannot 
 be a current up a chimney unless there be ingress, egress, and 
 material to flow. It is clear that if stagnant air, or still worse, 
 a back bounce from a neighbouring house, does not allow the 
 smoke to get away from the top of the chimney, that it will not 
 flow along the flue. Equally clear is it that if the doors and 
 windows are so closed and the floor so pasted over with paper as 
 to protect the carpet from being frayed unequally, that no air 
 can enter the room at all, there can be no current up the 
 chimney even if the egress at the top be free. 
 
 It is equally clear that, if there are five fires in a house all 
 burning at once, that air enough must be found to go up five 
 chimneys. If, then, the doors and windows of the dwelling be 
 so closely shut that little air can come through the crannies, it 
 is clear that the requisite air must come down some chimney, 
 and the chimney it comes down may be one in use for an up- 
 cast. An easy method of overcoming this difficulty is by car- 
 rying a tube behind the skirting board from the outer wall to 
 the fire-place, where it may open by an ornamental stopper. 
 Each chimney, however, requires a separate study, and we must 
 leave much to the ingenuity of our readers. 
 
 Of the minor comforts requisite in a house we need not speak. 
 If, in conclusion we were asked to name which of those we 
 have spoken of as necessary we could consent to forego, we 
 should add first airiness, secondly dryness. The most important 
 would be warmth and a ready egress up the chimney for the 
 air consumed. And if still farther we were asked the tempera- 
 ture most desirable to be kept up, we should say 64 of Fahren- 
 heit's thermometer. 
 
 What is true of dwelling-houses applies equally to hospitals, 
 asylums, workhouses, prisons, stables, cowhouses, and to what- 
 ever building living warm-blooded beings inhabit. Even a cat 
 likes a warm chimney corner, and the dog basks in the sun- 
 shine, surely, therefore, we should let our young folks and old 
 enjoy the same comfort which Providence ensures to the brute. 
 The home of a rabbit ought not to be more comfortable than 
 the home of a man, nor should a bed-room be as comfortless as 
 a lodging upon the cold ground. 
 
32 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 Tliis chapter elicited the following letter from the Physician 
 referred to in pages 28 and 29 : 
 
 SIR, As Dr. Inman has alluded to the house designed by me in your last 
 number, perhaps your readers would like to hear some more details on the 
 subject. I quite agree with Dr. Inman in most of his remarks, ami in his 
 rendering of the old adage that " fools build houses and wise men live in 
 them." No doubt that refers chiefly to the money value or return in the 
 shape of rent, but it would also be, I think, foolish to attempt to build a 
 house without the aid of a properly qualified architect, which I certainly 
 did not do, as perhaps would be inferred ; but I was fortunate in obtaining 
 the services of Mr. Henry Summers, of Rumford Place, Liverpool, who gave 
 an unprejudiced hearing to my suggestions, and carried them out practi- 
 cally. The great desideratum in most houses is a sufficient supply of fresh 
 air, which is at the same time not cold. This ought to be easy enough to 
 secure ; but one of the first obstacles to getting it is what we should 
 scarcely have thought of, viz., the position of the front door. This is usually 
 placed "in the middle of the front of the house, so as to cause the servants 
 to traverse the central hall containing the staircase, in order to open it. 
 . All the plans of having doors to be shut before the outer door is opened 
 are practically nugatory as long as the central hall is the general thorough- 
 fare of the house, and each time the door is opened for anybody who 
 chooses to knock, your whole house is cooled to the temperature of the 
 outer air, and the question of warming and ventilation is reduced from that 
 of houses to single rooms, and then as long only as the doors are shut. To 
 obviate this difficulty the door should be at the side of the house, or other- 
 wise so contrived as to open into a small lobby which has a separate en- 
 trance to the kitchen. By then putting swing doors on the lobby, no cold 
 air need enter the house proper. 
 
 In the house above alluded to this has been done, and then to secure a 
 large volume of fresh air at 60, a central hall or saloon is made thirty 
 feet long by eighteen broad, and fifteen high. This forms an elegant apart- 
 ment well fitted for music, arid into it open the dining-room, drawing-room, 
 and conservatory. It also opens on the staircase which is merely the size 
 necessary, and has no vacant space. The drawing-room opens also into the 
 staircase and into the library, which also opens to the stairs : so that all 
 the rooms are en suite, and there are no passages, and warm air can be con- 
 veyed from the saloon to all the other rooms. The fresh air from without 
 passes a coil of hot-water pipes in a chamber under the stairs into the 
 saloon, which has also a hot-water pipe round the skirting and the conser- 
 vatory, so that the saloon can easily be kept at 60. The passage on the 
 first floor communicates with the back stairs by a swing door, and as the 
 lower rooms are isolated as above described, the servants have no occasion 
 to pass into the centre of the house except when required in any particular 
 room. It is thus easy to keep up the temperature throughout the house to 
 the required degree. The foul air is removed by apertures in the ceilings, 
 communicating with a ventilating shaft round the smoke flue of the kitchen 
 chimney, and deriving suction power from the heat of it. A house so con- 
 structed with an equable temperature throughout, and no cold draughts, is 
 a comfort that can be appreciated by us all, and would be an unspeakable 
 benefit to invalids. Many a patient affected with bronchial catarrh and 
 other disorders of the respiratory organs, who is now obliged to seek a 
 milder climate in winter, would be able to remain at home. I hope medi- 
 cal mefc will direct their attention to the subject, and co-operate with archi- 
 tects in endeavouring to promote an improved style of house-building. 
 The difficulties are not most, I think, from the architects, but the public, 
 who are averse to changes in what they have been accustomed to. 
 
 Liverpool. I am yours truly, J. DRYSDALE, M.D. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE WIFE A MOTHER. 
 
 THERE are few more interesting events in the life of a married 
 couple than the meeting of the husband and wife over their 
 first infant. The little stranger, long expected, has at length 
 arrived. The mother has spent a number of weary hours of 
 suffering, varied only by paroxysms of pain, each more intense 
 than the other, culminating in a mighty effort in which agony 
 and determination have marched side by side, which leave her 
 at length with the delicious feeling that all is over, her suffer- 
 ing ended, and her reward immediate. The father has passed 
 hours of anxiety, cheered only by the pleasant small talk of the 
 doctor, who tells him of things in general and those going on 
 upstairs in particular. But, when the supreme moment arrives, 
 his agitation will scarcely allow him to remain at the seat of 
 labour, or yet altogether to remain away. Things however, 
 have an end, and the friendly medico at last announces the 
 birth of a fine boy or of a lovely girl. An interval then elapses 
 during which the baby passes through the hands of the nurse, 
 who cleanses its skin from its pristine coat, and covers it with 
 decent long clothes, then gives it some butter and honey, usually 
 called " shuggy butty," and at last, after having duly attended to 
 the comfort of the mother, she lays the infant in her arms. When 
 the maternal picture is complete, the father is invited to see it, 
 and he naturally enjoys it, not as a work of art, but as a fond 
 reality, and he contemplates with a joy which none but fathers 
 can feel, the sight of two objects of love where only one existed 
 before. 
 
 But the picture is not a bit of sculpture to remain for ever in 
 the same condition. The little stranger soon begins to give 
 proof that it has a mouth, which requires filling, and great- is 
 the interest in the question as to how it is to be done. 
 
 Passing by the first few hours, sometimes amounting to days, 
 during which there is no milk in the breasts, we may suppose 
 that the baby is at length able to get that natural supply which 
 Nature has provided for it in the maternal bosom, and we may 
 linger fondly for another moment on the family group where a 
 loving mother who had but a short time ago a power of giving 
 affectionate glances to none but her own " good man " how con- 
 centrates them all upon a wee infant who cares not for them ; 
 and where the father who but a while ago was only happy in 
 
 D 
 
34 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 his wife's affection, now vies with her in bestowing his love 
 upon some one else. 
 
 Supreme is the early bliss which attends the advent of the 
 first pledge of affection, but like other joys, it is too often of 
 short duration. The mother finds that the largest amount of 
 affection will not prevent sore nipples, and that what she hoped 
 would prove a pleasure, may be in reality a most agonizing duty, 
 while the father finds that night, which used to give him repose 
 after his daily toil, now brings him additional anxiety, while 
 his paternal love gets rudely shaken by the almost incessant 
 squalling of his unfortunate offspring. 
 
 When a wife suffers from each act of nursing, and the hus- 
 band from sleepless nights, love is as apt to fly out of the win- 
 dow, as it does when poverty comes in at the door, and when 
 once any failure of affection is evident, the health of all parties 
 sensibly suffers. The mother unable to enjoy the idea of feed- 
 ing is unable to lay in a store adequate for herself and her young 
 one. With deficient food her stamina is not adequate for the 
 performance of her duties as wife, mother and housekeeper, her 
 own health influences that of her baby, and the husband, soured 
 by domestic discomfort and broken rest, added to daily toil, too 
 often flies for solace to the friendly pipe and the somniferous 
 grog, or to the much abused " Club." 
 
 The couple, if sensible, soon find the necessity for advice in 
 the emergency in which they find themselves, and the one has 
 resort to her mother or some female friend, while the other 
 perhaps applies to some other " Benedick " or possibly to the 
 doctor. It too often happens that the advice given by the ladies 
 differs greatly from that which the men afford, and as, in a 
 general way, a wife prefers female recommendations to those 
 given by men, whom she supposes to know nothing about such 
 things, it follows that the mischief is perpetuated, as it naturally 
 must be, when a young blind man consults a sightless old one 
 upon the nature of colours. 
 
 There is not a matron who has not a full conviction that she 
 knows as much about " nursing " (by which I mean lactation 
 or " giving the breast ") as any doctor who ever handled a baby. 
 Yet her experience only covers the knowledge of herself and of 
 a few female friends, while that of the medico includes the 
 observation of hundreds, possibly thousands of women. 
 
 I cannot imagine any lady liking to compare herself to a 
 milch cow and her dear " poppet" to a four legged calf; yet the 
 physiological surgeon does not scruple to think that there is 
 much similarity between them, and that a woman cannot flourish 
 on a plan which would kill " Cushy," nor a " baby darling " 
 thrive on that which would injure a lamb. 
 
 Yet, though my imagination will not go so far, I can readily 
 
THE WIFE A MOTHER. 35 
 
 believe that every woman would do her best to act sensibly if 
 she was sure that she only knew the way. We lords of creation 
 sometimes think hardly of our cara spoms for their silliness, 
 when in reality we may ourselves be quite as absurd. 
 
 In the ensuing remarks I will endeavour, as far as possible, to 
 give such instruction as I wish that we had ourselves possessed 
 during my younger days, and in such a manner that few can 
 misunderstand me. 
 
 We may divide mothers into those who nurse their offspring 
 and those who cannot. 
 
 We may again subdivide the former into those who could and 
 do not, and the latter into those who cannot do it well, and still 
 try. 
 
 If a mother has abundance of milk, and yet from circumstances 
 does not use it, her first trouble is to get rid of the supply. The 
 mother who has nursed her baby, and has to wean it, experiences 
 a like difficulty. The most simple plan is, for the nurse to re- 
 duce all her fluid food to the smallest endurable quantity, and 
 to adopt a diet consisting of such nutritious and dry materials, 
 as meat and bread. The breasts must be let alone but if they 
 become painfully distended they may be relieved by any of tliDse 
 contrivances which matrons praise. The simplest and the best we 
 know consists of a common soda water bottle, which is heated 
 by being filled with hot water, then emptied, after that the end 
 is cooled by cold water, so as not to scald the nipple to which 
 it must be adjusted, and then a towel wet with water is placed 
 round the bottle so as to cool it, the result being a steady suction, 
 which relieves the distended bosom as completely as would an 
 infant's mouth. It is not necessary to empty the breast, nor to 
 have recourse to the bottle, except when the distension is painful. 
 As a rule, the bosom should never be rubbed, frictions makes 
 matters worse, strong, firm, and general pressure may be once 
 tried, so as to squeeze out the milk, but if unsuccessful it should 
 be abandoned. 
 
 It has been observed that women who do not nurse are more 
 liable to conceive in a short time after confinement than those 
 who use their breasts, and as a consequence, there is a belief 
 generally entertained amongst the female sex, that lactation 
 prevents pregnancy. As a consequence of this belief, it very 
 frequently happens that suckling is protracted to a baneful ex- 
 tent. 
 
 Though the idea is correct in the main, it is not universally 
 so, for with many mothers a new conception often obliges them 
 to suspend lactation, and in some rare cases, one of which I 
 remember particularly, a baby may be nursed by the mother 
 until the day when she brings another into the world. Instead, 
 however, of pursuing exceptions, let us take the ordinary nurs 
 
 D 2 
 
.36 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 ing mother through those various stages, where advice may be 
 required. 
 
 We will imagine that she has abundance of milk and no 
 trouble with her breasts, a good appetite, and her ordinary 
 amount of energy. Her baby is healthy, it awakes to suck, 
 possets a little, and drops off again to sleep, and as it increases 
 in age, it begins to " take notice" and only cries when hungry, 
 or when it is washed or " changed." (Infant's don't enjoy 
 " bother " more than other folks, and usually yell when their 
 legs are turned up higher than their heads. They prefer appa- 
 rently comfort to cleanliness). Let such a mother rejoice, for 
 such an one we do not write. 
 
 Let us rather paint the career of one, who experiences trouble 
 in her own person or in that of her child. 
 
 We will suppose first, the case of one, who has abundance of 
 milk but no appetite, or no means of satisfying it, if she have 
 one. Such an one gradually falls into consumption or some 
 other organic disease, or she so impoverishes her system as to 
 bring on palsy, blindness, deafness, intense headache, or insanity. 
 A woman who inherits any disease, no matter what its nature, 
 ought to be specially careful in nursing. My memory teems with 
 cases where young mothers have determinedly suckled, until 
 they have been compelled by the above mentioned diseases to 
 forbear. They have fancied that the existence of milk in the 
 breast showed that they ought to use it, and they have themselves 
 died rather than give up their belief. 
 
 One lady whom I knew, handsome, well made, active, residing 
 in the country and having ample means of living well, nursed in 
 succession two unusually fine boys, she had ample " dairies " 
 but no appetite, and to keep up the supply of fluid she drank 
 largely of "bitter beer." Attacks of faintness, giddiness, headache, 
 various pains and sundry other troubles, warned her of her im- 
 prudence, yet she persisted in nursing, until insanity was im- 
 minent, and only staved off by months of unremitting care. 
 Another such case was not so fortunate, and the lunatic asylum 
 was the finishing stroke to the lactation. 
 
 Fortunately for mothers, the first evidence of their 'doing too 
 much for their powers is to be recognised in the infant, and it is 
 a rule, an exception to which I do not know, that " a squalling 
 baby" means a weakly mother. I have been repeatedly 
 asked for some remedy to cure some infant of " wind," and have 
 invariably found that the nursing mother required more atten- 
 tion than her charge. 
 
 It is very important that every mother should know the in- 
 fluence her own health has over that of her child. Dr. 
 Christison has mentioned one remarkable instance in which 
 very intense mental emotion in a mother so poisoned her milk 
 
THE WIFE A MOTHER. 37 
 
 that the baby was convulsed and died almost as soon as it took 
 her breast. I have myself seen convulsions produced in a child, 
 six months old, from taking the breast after an excessive paroxysm 
 of anger on the mother's part ; at any rate by the closest possi- 
 ble examination I could discover no other possible cause. 
 
 I have again seen sickness and vomiting lasting for a whole 
 day in a baby, whose mother, unaccustomed to such things, ac- 
 cidentally took a wineglassful of whiskey-toddy over night. 
 The connexion between cause and effect was in this instance 
 tested by an exhaustive series of observations during successive 
 weeks, and successive lactations. 
 
 When this same lady was young she nursed without difficulty, 
 but as each child came in succession to test her strength, she be- 
 gan to fail. The milk was there as usual, but its quality was 
 deteriorated, and the house rang, day and night, with the piteous 
 yells of a suffering infant. Beer, ale, porter, wine and tonics or 
 all kinds was resorted to without any material influence, and it 
 was a question between the father, mother, and doctor, whether 
 the mother and child should separate, or the two together sepa- 
 rate from the father, whose business could not be very well 
 carried on during the day, if his nights were persistently sleep- 
 less. The mother clung to the child until the crisis came in 
 the following guise : After sundry minor attacks of a similar 
 kind, the infant, who had been sleeping quietly, was nursed by 
 the mother at about 2 A.M. ; it instantly began to shriek, and 
 when I saw it, its cries were more 'piteous than any I had ever 
 heard. They came on at intervals of every two or three minutes, 
 during the next three hours, in spite of everything I did to re- 
 lieve them. Had the milk been arsenic it could not have pro- 
 duced a more painful, though it would have produced a more 
 deadly effect. After this, the mother concluded that it was her 
 duty to cease tormenting her infant, and the household as a con- 
 sequence was once more a comfortable one. 
 
 As soon as it is evident that a nurse is giving to her offspring 
 more milk than she can afford, it is necessary to supplement the 
 natural food with some other, such as arrowroot, sago, rusks, or 
 other infant diet, into which subject we will not now enter. The 
 mother should resolve only to nurse at intervals of four hours 
 during the day, and never during the night. So resolute should 
 she be in carrying out this rule, that she ought not to allow the 
 baby to be in the same bedroom with her. A milch woman's 
 breath and body smells of milk, as does that of a cow, and the 
 infant cannot fail to want and cry for the food it smells with its 
 nose, any more than a hungry man can sit down before an ap- 
 petising dish and not wish to partake of it. 
 
 Still further, such a mother should never give her nursling 
 the breast 'while she has an empty stomach, or is fatigued by 
 
38 THE PEESEEVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 household or other exertions. Where it is desirable to strain 
 every point for the benefit of the baby's health, and to give it 
 the breast as much as possible, the best diet for the mother is 
 such fluid food as gruel, barley water, milk, custard, with the 
 addition of a moderate amount of ale, porter, or gin and water. 
 As a rule, however, much fermented liquor goes to increase the 
 mother's bulk, rather than the quantity of her milk. 
 
 A great trouble which attends a deficient dairy supply is sore 
 nipples ; the agony arising from which is such as to involve the 
 whole female frame, and send the sufferer into such fainting as 
 used to attend the victims of the rack, and which gives but a 
 moment of forgetfulness in the midst of the most frightful tor- 
 ture. When such are present there is always a certainty that 
 the supply is deficient. If the breast teem with milk the flow 
 into the child's mouth prevents the necessity for suction ; if, on 
 the contrary, there is nothing for the child to get, its instinct 
 teaches it to draw, and draw, and draw, until, in lieu of milk, it 
 gets blood. 
 
 When things come to this pass the danger of " a gathering" is 
 imminent, and the poor mother may find that from a hope of 
 saving herself one trouble, she has drawn down upon herself 
 " a peck " of such. 
 
 Let us now for a moment do violence to the human mother 
 by comparing her to a cow. The farmer well knows that he 
 cannot get milk from any in his shippon perpetually. " Cushy " 
 will run dry in spite, of him, and, if anxious to get something 
 from the dry udder, " Molly," goes one working at the teat, the 
 cow will kick her over rather than stand still to be excor- 
 riated. In like manner, the farmer will not allow animals 
 to be milked when they are off their food, nor would he think 
 of putting the beasts from which he gets his butter and cheese 
 to do the work of his horses. Just in the same way, the milch 
 woman ought to save her labour, she cannot be a good nursing 
 mother and a hard working honsewife too. If she will work 
 she ought not to nurse much, and if she will nurse much, she 
 ought to be as lazy as she can. 
 
 At one time the curse of society was over living and little 
 work ; now one of its curses is over work and under living. 
 The doctor preaches judiciousness in all things, and feels dis- 
 posed to parody a stanza of Crabbe's in the following fashion. 
 
 " Oil ! fly extremes my friend, refrain, refrain, 
 I preach for ever, but I preach in vain ! " 
 
 We have left ourselves but scanty space to talk of those who 
 have no milk for their young ones, and truly very little requires 
 to be said. Punch on one occasion parodied a well known ad- 
 vertisement thus : " Advice to those about to marry Dont ; " 
 
THE WIFE A MOTHER. 39 
 
 we may parody the same in the following fashion : " Advice 
 to those who can't nurse dont try." It seems really ab- 
 surd to write such words, yet I believe them necessary, as I 
 can recal instances in which ladies so situated have been in- 
 duced by their friends to try to bring milk into the breast by 
 putting the baby to them, until a milk abscess has shown at once 
 the vil of the advice, and the injudiciousness of following it. 
 
 But if by accident, such as the occurrence of temporary fever, 
 the milk leaves the maternal breast ere the baby is old enough 
 to be weaned, it may sometimes be brought back again, when 
 convalescence is established, by such a contrivance as the use of 
 a mustard plaster placed between the " dairies," so as just to 
 touch them both on their inner edges. 
 
 Ere I conclude this chapter, I must say a few words upon one 
 of the accidents of nursing viz., the occurrence of painful lumps 
 in the breast. I well remember one lady, who consulted me for 
 this, and the trouble we had ere we could satisfy ouselves as to 
 the cause of the affection. I use the plural, for my patient was 
 far slower to adopt my views than I was to decide upon them. 
 The case was this : During the first lactation she began to suffer 
 occasionally from these painful lumps, but she never had them 
 when by accident she was unable to dress as usual, and they 
 were only bad when she wore one particular article of dress. By 
 dint of an exhaustive analysis it was demonstrated that the bone 
 or steel in the corset was the culprit, and as the lady could not 
 determine to give up its use, this was cut down, where it lay 
 between the " dairies " almost to the breadth of a lead pencil. 
 But the lumps still appeared and the patient had to decide be- 
 tween the mainstay bone, and freedom from pain. The latter 
 carried the day ; the steel was discarded, and from that period 
 no lump ever arose. I may say that when it was necessary to 
 do something to relieve the pain, we found nothing equal to the 
 use of a wooden bowl steeped in hot water and applied all over 
 the bosom. Eubbing and active treatment always made matters 
 worse. I may also mention that some women suffer much from 
 the weight of the full breast hanging downwards in spite of the 
 usual contrivances to obviate this. In these cases it is well to 
 have a jacket specially made to contain them, which, when 
 buttoned in front, will diffuse the weight over the whole of the 
 shoulders and neck. There are many things respecting the 
 nature, quantity, and quality of milk which we must postpone 
 until we have to speak of the infant just arrived. 
 
 We will now conclude with pointing our moral thus : Lacta- 
 tion is an exhausting process ; while, therefore, it is going on, 
 the mother should spare her strength as much as she possibly 
 can, so as to ensure for her offspring a food of irreproachable 
 value. 
 
CHAPTEE VII. 
 
 THE MOTHER GROWING OLD. 
 
 THERE is a time, alas ! it comes too soon upon us all, when the 
 
 (beauty and gracefulness of youth begin to merge into sleekness 
 and fat, or from having been soured by the trials of life, to sink 
 into the furrows and leanness of discontent. The charming mother 
 whom we last met with, bending with joy over her infant, becomes 
 in time the portly matron, at the head of a bevy of children, who 
 are coming forward to take their parents' place. No one who 
 sees one of her graceful girls could mistake the mother for an 
 elder sister, or fail to mark the contrast between youth and age. 
 Yet, clear as is the distinction, none can tell the day, or week, 
 or month, in which the change from youth to age began, nor can 
 the mother herself recall the period when she first felt that she 
 was growing old. It may be that she can recall the appearance 
 of the first grey hair among her raven tresses, or the evening 
 when first she declined dancing in every set, but these, she says, 
 are not rightly marks of age. There is little doubt, that as a 
 I general rule, every woman considers herself as still young until 
 * " the change -of life " takes place. As some alteration from the 
 ' daily routine of childhood gives her notice that she has become 
 a woman, so it is considered that the disappearance of a 
 periodic visitor tells her that she has become " aged." In the 
 majority of instances, we think she judges rightly, but there 
 are numbers of strange exceptions to the general rule. There 
 are few who would call a woman who had arrived at the age of 
 fifty-three a young one ; yet I was told a few days ago by a lady 
 whose "life" I was examining, that her mother bore her youngest 
 child when she had attained that period. But granting the 
 truth of the general proposition, that " the change of life " marks 
 the limit between youth and age, we are still puzzled to know 
 with anything approaching to exactness, when that period 
 occurs. No lady knows the future, and can only tell after the 
 lapse of many weeks, or months, that she has seen a friend for 
 the last time. Vesuvius was once thought to be an extinct 
 volcano, but it blazed up again with fury, and has had many 
 an eruption since ; so many a woman who has thought her 
 troubles over, may find them begin again even more strongly 
 than before. 
 
 But, notwithstanding all these irregularities, the female sex 
 
THE MOTHER GROWING OLD. 41 
 
 has been taught to believe, and doctors have shared if they 
 have not originated the idea that the change of life is attended 
 with many dangers, and peculiar symptoms. Indeed, we find 
 in systematic medical dictionaries such as " Copland's Cyclo- 
 paedia," articles on the " Grand Climacteric," and an account of 
 all the ills which womankind inherits at the period. 
 
 As a consequence of this belief, every symptom under which 
 a female suffers, from about forty to fifty, is attributed to this 
 mysterious cause, and years of suffering are sometimes endured 
 unnecessarily from this view of an individual case. I well re- 
 member a lady who came under my care, after a year's increasing 
 illness. Her age I guessed to be about forty-seven, yet she told 
 me she was as regular in her habits as when she was first married. 
 Her doctors and I was the third on her list, had told her that 
 she was suffering from change of life, and urged her to have 
 plenty of exercise, and to swallow frequent doses of " blue- 
 pill," or " alteratives." In vain she protested that she was not 
 changing, and that if she were the alteration would not be ex- 
 pedited by walking for three hours daily, and swallowing seven 
 pills weekly. She got no relief until accident separated her 
 from her previous attendants, and put me in their place. I 
 found her suffering simply from exhaustion : My chief pre- 
 scription was the use of a sofa all day, and I paid my last visit 
 at the end of about six weeks. Since then, the lady has never 
 been ill, and has continued her regular habits, although I be- 
 lieve she is now upwards of fifty-five years of age. 
 
 An example like this set me thinking, and I asked myself, 
 " What could possibly have led to the current belief, that a 
 natural change, which all women experience equally, must 
 necessarily be a dangerous one, and mark the epoch of life when 
 it occurred, as the most trying in a female's existence ?" I first 
 tried to ascertain what the period was, so that I might consult 
 the tables of the Registrar-General, and ascertain whether an 
 unusual number of women died in or about that particular time 
 of life : the more I tried, the more completely I was baffled. I 
 inquired of all my friends and patients as to their experience, 
 and found that some had placed themselves in the same category 
 as the ancient Sarah (see Genesis xviii, 11) before they had 
 arrived at forty, others were still in a different category at fifty, 
 and I found that there were some, who, in one sense, had never 
 been women at all, during any period of their lives. Some, 
 again, were so regularly irregular, {that they never could tell 
 within one year what might happen next. It was perfectly clear, 
 from all this, that ladies could not be so very dependent upon 
 their " friends " for their health, as they had been told by 
 their doctors to believe. If they could do without " visitors" for 
 a twelvemonth, it could not be very dreadful to be free from 
 
42 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 them for two years, and if for two years, a longer immunity 
 ought not to cause anxiety. 
 
 In the course of my inquiry, I found that the general belief 
 was that the change took place usually at or about the age of 
 forty-five, and then leaving the question, whether the notion was 
 true or false, I began to consider what usually happened at or 
 about that period of female existence. No one can deny that at 
 such an age a woman is no longer young she has passed through 
 half the period of her existence, and has naturally become some- 
 what more feeble than she was in the heyday of her youthful 
 vigour it is probable that she has had a family, and endured the 
 trouble of bringing them up. The boys and girls who were 
 sent to bed at eight o'clock have now become young men and 
 women, and have, each for themselves, a separate room. This 
 involves a considerable amount of extra work. Tom wants new 
 shirts, and his " fronts," " wristbands," and collars, are often out 
 of order; his stockings want darning, continually, and his 
 " things " must be looked after, ere they go to, and when they 
 return from, the wash. Mary has a tendency to untidyness, and 
 mamma must pay a daily visit to her room, to see that every- 
 thing is proper. Household linen has increased as the people 
 have grown up, and the exigencies of society occupy a large 
 portion of the day With all this toil, and few, but women, know 
 how hard-working a woman is in her domestic domain, there is 
 also taken, a considerable amount of exercise, either for the mother's 
 own presumed benefit, or for the improvement of a daughter's 
 health, and long morning shoppings are often as necessary as 
 a round of calls. In other words, with failing strength, the 
 woman goes through a greater amount of labour than she did 
 when her vigour was at its height. At the period when she 
 has earned repose, she is more active than ever, and when 
 she finds that she suffers, the illness is attributed to anything 
 but its right cause. When as a girl she got muscular pains 
 in the side from romping or laughing, she thought nothing 
 of them for gala days then came rarely when she gets the 
 same pains as a woman, she thinks much of them, for the cause 
 is of daily recurrence. The doctor, naturally, is not resorted to 
 until the patient has tried her own hand at globules, if she be 
 of the homoeopathic, and pills if she be an adherent of the old 
 school, and she finds relief from none. She then has recourse 
 to the family physician, who reads the symptoms as indicating 
 disease, or disorder of the liver, the stomach, the spleen, the 
 womb, or the kidneys, according to the locality of the pain, and 
 his pet notions or routine hypotheses. He does his best to 
 drive the ailment away, with " alteratives," and other " doctor's 
 stuff," but usually fails, as signally as the patient did when 
 she was her own prescriber. As a last resource, the patient 
 
THE MOTHER GROWING OLD. 43 
 
 is sent to the sea-side, or some watering place, where she takes 
 lodgings, lives like a fine lady, and gets well, coming back with 
 the belief that for her the change of life has passed. So it has ; 
 she has accepted the fact that she is more of an old woman 
 than a young girl, and acts accordingly. But had she exercised 
 that good sense on which women pride themselves, so justly, 
 she might have come to the same conclusion without going 
 through any suffering at all. 
 
 It is a great mistake to suppose that women begin to grow 
 old only at the time when their " health " changes,, and .that 
 nntHr thai periud arrives they may act in every way as if they 
 still were~young; StiTT greater a mistake is it to suppose that 
 when their energies begin to flag, that they can be restored by 
 tofihof exercise. 
 
 It is a common thing for women to find, that as they advance 
 in years, they lose far more blood than they did in earlier years. 
 This flow it is sometimes difficult to check, and then it has to 
 be borne. Loss of too large a quantity of blood is usually fol- 
 lowed by impoverishment of the remainder, and as a result 
 faintness, headache, and palpitation, are common symptoms, 
 and there is very little appetite, and too commonly, indigestion. 
 If, with these, the individual is obliged to go through her 
 domestic duties, as usual, there are superadded, pains in various 
 parts of the body, at the back of the head, and between the 
 shoulders, in and below the breasts, and sometimes in the pubic 
 region and flanks, leading to the belief that there is disease of 
 the womb. 
 
 A woman cannot be in this condition without suffering from 
 low spirits, and she consequently indulges herself with the 
 belief that she is the victim of some internal ailment, which 
 it is beyond the skill of the physician to cure. 
 
 The amount of misery that some ladies suffer about this 
 period of life, few, but themselves, their immediate relatives, 
 and their doctors, know. It may, however, be saved entirely, 
 if the patient will but act a sensible part, and curtail her 
 labour when her power to perform it is diminished. At 
 each recurrence of a visit from the gushing friend, recourse 
 should be had to bed ; not to a luxuriant mass of down, in 
 which the sufferer may roll at ease, but to a hard mattress, on 
 which she can lie at full length, and remain cool about the very 
 regions where coldness is required. The warmth of a feather- 
 bed is apt, not only to increase " a flow," but to make the parts 
 so tender, that such will recur more frequently. 
 
 In conclusion, we would advise all who wish to get over the 
 period spoken of as the Grand Climacteric, to treat themselves 
 upon a common sense plan. If their strength is firm, and their 
 health unexceptionable, their appetite good, and their activity 
 
44 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 unbounded, they need not have a care, but if, on the contrary, 
 anyone should begin to find herself a little " pursy " on running 
 up stairs, a sufferer from headache, or pains in body and limbs, 
 or if she begins to be low-spirited, unable to eat, and disliking 
 to drink, or to have an indefinable sense of something being 
 wrong, let her just believe that she is beginning to go down the 
 hill of life, and " lock a wheel," lest she run down too fast. We 
 know many a hard-working woman, who looks sixty ere she is 
 forty, and we know many a buxom matron at fifty who may readily 
 be mistaken for one below forty : the first has gone down the 
 declivity of years with giant strides ; the second has put the 
 drag on, and by taking things easy, has remained near the top. 
 
 We are great admirers of female loveliness, and grieve to see 
 the bonny features of youth become wrinkled with age, and we 
 think we give to women sound advice when we tell them, a,s 
 they advance in years, to take things easy, or as the Irish- 
 man says, " If you can't take things asy, take them as asy as 
 you can." Fatigue brings frowns to the brow, and bitter words 
 to the tongue, while healthy ease wreathes smiles o'er the face, 
 and brings honeyed stories to the lips, whether the matron be in 
 middle life or in advanced age. 
 
CHAPTEK VIII. 
 
 . 
 
 THE FATHER GETTING INTO YEARS. 
 
 THERE are few men who do not grow old. Even kings die 
 " sometimes," but neither monarchs like to believe themselves 
 mortals, nor do men like to feel that they are no longer young. 
 The youth who has read his " Shakespeare " diligently in his 
 palmy days, remembers the saying of the Chief Justice when 
 talking with Falstaff : " Do you set down your name in the 
 scroll of youth that are written down old with all the character 
 of age ? Have you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, 
 a white beard, a decreasing leg, an increasing belly ? Is not 
 your voice broken, your wind short, your chin double, your wit 
 single ?" Second Part Henry II, Act I., Scene 2. And when 
 that youth grows older he considers that he may still write him- 
 self down as juvenile if he does not present the above cha- 
 racteristics. Yet, though " the immortal bard " is generally 
 unapproachable in his descriptions, he sometimes fails, and we 
 cannot trust him implicitly in his description of the marks 
 which tell of age. His definition, such as it is, may answer for 
 one who has become an old man : it certainly does not fit one 
 who is only " getting into years." 
 
 "With the indisposition which all of us have to believe that 
 for us " time is on the wing," we naturally blind ourselves wil- 
 fully to the first signs of advancing life, and trust to our feel- 
 ings rather than to facts to decide into which category we are 
 to be placed. 
 
 It does not signify much whether a bachelor or paterfamilias 
 chooses to call himself a young man when he is fat and forty, 
 provided that he does not act upon the belief or if he does, 
 that he only indulges in a nice wig, artificial teeth, clothes of 
 immaculate cut, or other harmless affectation but if, with the 
 determination to be juvenile after youth has passed away, he 
 treats himself and acts as if he were only five-and-twenty, he 
 does serious damage to his health, and instead of prolonging his 
 adolescence, he increases the stride of his own senility. In 
 some story-book may be found the account, that human life 
 may be compared to a clock, whose fingers go upwards from six 
 to twelve, and then come steadily downwards to six again. Life, 
 like the mainspring, carries the man up to the highest point on 
 the dial, and as certainly carries him down again to the mys- 
 
46 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 terious point void whence he emerged. As nothing will prevent 
 the clock ticking on, save its quasi destruction, so nothing will 
 prevent our descent into years except annihilation at once. It 
 is well to accept the fact, and to endeavour to enjoy our deca- 
 dence as much as we did our advance. It is true that the 
 pleasures . of youth are more entrancing than those of age, yet 
 maturity has gratifications unknown to boyhood, and the fulfil- 
 ment of duties of which the juvenile is careless, gives enjoy- 
 ment to old age. 
 
 There are few who will not agree with the truth of what I 
 say, yet there are none who would not be disposed to rejoin : 
 "At what period of life do you think that the clock finger 
 points downwards ? Can you tell us when we ought to treat 
 ourselves as if we had entered upon the first days of Autumn ?" 
 
 With all of us, the day when decadence begins is unknown. 
 Some one may feel that he turned the corner with his first 
 attack of gout ; another with that misfortune which placed his 
 name on the list of bankrupts. One dates his age from the 
 period when he lost his wife, or his dearest child ; another from 
 an accident, when he lost much blood. Yet, as a rule, no such 
 starting points can be named, and we get into years, and become 
 " old folks " without our being conscious of it. One man told 
 me that the only mark by which he could judge was, that 
 whereas in attending mercantile sales he once felt himself a 
 young man amongst old ones, now he found that the youngsters 
 had begun to predominate. 
 
 It is not absolutely necessary for anyone to feel that he is 
 growing old. We, ourselves, hope, indeed, to carry our young 
 feelings with us till our pulses cease to beat, but it is certainly 
 advisable for us to act as if we were no longer young. If we 
 wish to discover any means for our guidance, to what must we 
 look ? It appears to me that there are two classes of symptoms 
 which infallibly tell of the departure of youth one physical, 
 the other physiological. 
 
 One of the first physical signs of advancing age when we are 
 juvenile, is to be met with in the great toe. That important 
 part of the foot is on the same line with that of the instep, and 
 if we examine a footmark on the sand, as closely as did Robin- 
 son Crusoe, we can tell whether the savage who made it is 
 above or below thirty-five. After this period, the great toe 
 begins to turn towards its fellows, and often ends by com- 
 pletely overlapping them. The natural result is, that its 
 owner finds his old shoes uncomfortable, and complains of big 
 bunions, or of numerous corns. By the art of the shoemaker, 
 this change may be disguised. The next we mention, requires 
 the aid of the tweezers : as women, when they have passed 
 their "grand climacteric," find that hairs of formidable size 
 
THE FATHER GETTING INTO YEARS 47 
 
 grow upon lip and chin, where none but small and silky ones 
 flourished before, so men find, that about the age of forty, great 
 outgrowths proceed from their eyebrows, like tall " Jackstraws " 
 out of a well-kept lawn. About the same period, the hairs at 
 the back part of the whiskers become grey, and the crown of 
 the head is more or less bald. The skin, too, which once was 
 " shiny," begins to look dull, and wrinkles appear where none 
 were seen before. This change is more apparent about the eye 
 and below the chin than elsewhere, but it may be masked en- 
 tirely, where, with advancing years, there is an increase of fatty 
 bulk. The physiological evidences of increasing age have no 
 definite time for their approach. Some, who have passed une 
 jeunesse orageuse, begin to feel old while their years are few, and 
 others, who have " kept themselves well," still are as they were 
 in youth, though their years are many. Failure in sight is, 
 perhaps, one of the most constant marks of senility, and few 
 attain the age of forty-five without requiring the aid of spec- 
 tacles to read the newspapers by gaslight. There are, how- 
 ever, sundry other marks which tell the same tale. Few there 
 are, at forty, who can run up-stairs as lightly as at twenty, or 
 who can spring up after dinner to play cricket as readily as they 
 could at school, and it is probable that there are few who can 
 wear clothes of the same cut as they could while they were 
 apprentices. Man usually increases in breadth from twenty- 
 five to thirty, and after the latter period, increases in girth round 
 the abdomen, and .his well-kept wedding suit seems very small 
 to the father who can count his grown-up sons. 
 
 Well, I can fancy hearing some reader exclaim : " What of 
 all this ? To what is all this rigmarole to conduct us?" To a 
 very simple conclusion viz., that when a man is old he ought 
 not to act as if he were still young. 
 
 This sounds ridiculously insignificant, yet if we examine the 
 deduction closely, it will assume considerable importance. 
 
 When young, a man " drives " his business morning, noon, 
 and night ; he slaves to make a " connection ;" late and early, at 
 home and abroad, in the counting-house and on the exchange, 
 he pursues his work, and cares not to eat, except to enable him 
 to continue his exertions. To him it matters little whether he 
 dines at noon or at night, or goes without a meal at all He 
 " succeeds " at length, and then his business drives him. Day by 
 day, week by week, and year by year, he is kept " hard at it ;" 
 the connection made has to be kept up ; clerks and managers 
 have to be supervised ; and the labour which once was easy, 
 becomes at length an irksome duty. When this occurs, the 
 individual must select between " keeping his nose to the grind- 
 stone," making as much money as possible, and dying compara- 
 tively early, or taking it easy, and going down hill slowly and 
 
48 ON THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 pleasantly. It is difficult, sometimes, to make men believe that 
 what they have done all their life can do them harm simply 
 because they carry more grey or fewer brown hairs on their 
 head than they did when boys. But so it is, and I cannot point 
 the moral better than by telling the following case : A gentle- 
 man, of healthy family, of active habits, regular in living, com- 
 fortable in position, as happy as most are in his domestic 
 relations, residing in a healthy part of the country, and quite 
 independent in circumstances, began, at the age of sixty-four, 
 to suffer from sickness. His ordinary day's work consisted first 
 of inspecting his garden and greenhouses, breakfasting, and 
 taking a five miles' journey, by rail and steamboat, to his place 
 of business. His occupation was that of a merchant, banker, 
 agent, and general philanthropist, and he toiled at it from half- 
 past nine till four o'clock, without lunch, or any rest. It began 
 at last to be noticed by his friends, that at certain meetings, 
 which involved some anxiety of mind, the gentleman became 
 sick and faint and sometimes vomited. The affection which 
 at first was occasional, became at length a daily occurrence, and 
 not only was nausea produced by labour, but the smell of food 
 induced prolonged retching, and dinner was daily rejected. The 
 patient, in spite of the recommendations of his physician, con- 
 tinued his daily routine, and at length became so ill, that he 
 was morally compelled, by some of the friends of his boyhood, 
 to take care of himself. He placed himself under his doctor's 
 care, whose sole prescription was " perfect rest." It was carried 
 out, and in less than three weeks, the patient was well. For a 
 short time he carried out the physician's direction, and remained 
 at work for two hours only. As he did this with impunity, he 
 increased his daily toil until it reached its old limit. All the 
 symptoms returned, and ere two more months elapsed, he died 
 from pure exhaustion. 
 
 We might multiply cases, though we could give none more 
 striking than this. In general, persons of the male sex carry 
 their years well unless their bodily or mental labour is exces- 
 sive, so long as they retain a fair appetite and good digestion. 
 As a rule, the former diminishes as age advances, and the latter 
 becomes more slow. A boy of sixteen can eat in one day more 
 than many a man of sixty could comfortably consume in three, 
 and the former will digest in two hours what the latter can 
 scarcely dispose of wholly in six. 
 
 But the aged are far more readily pulled down by medicine 
 than the young. An aperient dose, which will make a lad more 
 lively than before, will give his father half a week of flatulence, 
 and the blue pill, which was thought. to clear the liver of the 
 juvenile ban vivant, is sure to promote biliousness in the senile 
 feaster. Those who in advanced years go to the druggist for a 
 
THE FATHER GETTING INTO YEARS. 49 
 
 calomel purge, to clear away the remains of some aldermanic 
 feast, are those most apt to die suddenly of apoplexy, and that 
 which has long been trusted as a valued friend, becomes at 
 length the deadliest of enemies. But there is another point 
 connected with advancing years, which we must advert to, 
 tender though the ground may be. There is a time in the life 
 of woman when Nature sets a limit to her power of reproduc-. 
 tion. There are few like Sarah, who become mothers in old 
 age. In man, however, there is no such limit. Abraham, we 
 are told, had a family by Keturah after his first old wife was 
 dead, and though the aged David could lie quietly by the lovely 
 Abishag at the age of eighty, or thereabouts, yet the story runs, 
 that " old Parr " was arraigned at a still more advanced period 
 of his life, for having violated some young woman. A wide expe- 
 rience of the world tells that marriages occasionally are solem- 
 nized between aged men and young wives, and are sometimes 
 followed by a family whose paternity is undoubted. This being 
 so, there is a general belief that men usually carry into years 
 the powers they have in youth, and they consequently try to 
 demonstrate, year after year, to themselves, that no sign of age 
 has yet fallen on them. I once heard, with the most profound 
 disgust, an old colonel of seventy-five, say in a mixed company 
 that his fourth wife was as well treated as his first, and the 
 tone and manner showed how proud he was of making the 
 boast. A few months only elapsed ere he succumbed to an 
 attack of fever, apparently mild. 
 
 Some may live to make such assertions as the foregoing, but 
 the majority die in the process. There are, indeed, few rocks 
 on which advanced years are more liable to shipwreck than the 
 continued indulgence of juvenile affections. There are some 
 who, by injudicious love, bring on insanity ; others who bring 
 on palsy of the lower parts of the body ; others who escape 
 with indigestion alone the most common phenomenon arising 
 from excess, and it will readily be understood that there is a 
 sliding scale by which to gauge the value of this word, is that 
 the individual, feeling the effects of the drain, endeavours to 
 make up for it by increasing his usual quantity of stimulants. 
 As years advance, man has naturally more control over his 
 passions than he had when in youth, and if he chose to follow 
 the dictates of Nature, he would have nothing of which to com- 
 plain, but unfortunately, he who has allowed his feelings " a full 
 sweep " while juvenile, will try to solicit them by every avail- 
 able means when old. Than this, there is nothing more pre- 
 judicial to health. Man has many phases. While young he is 
 learning facts and gleaning opinions. Youth and strength impel 
 him to marry, and when his family grows up, it is his business 
 to instruct them. Youth is the time for action ; age is the 
 
 E 
 
i)0 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 period for judgment. The head cannot think powerfully if its 
 living energies are frittered away in corporeal pleasures. It has 
 long been known in the medical profession that the men who 
 use their brains the " hardest " have but small propensity to in- 
 dulge their loves, while those who allow themselves to enjoy 
 affection to the utmost, have very little intellect to cultivate. 
 If this be true, we can readily understand how fast those must 
 " age " whose brain work increases with their years, whose con- 
 nubial enjoyments continue unchanged. 
 
 I will close this chapter with a case in point. I was con- 
 sulted by a gentleman, who detailed to me a number of sym- 
 ptoms, pointing unmistakably to nervous exhaustion. He was 
 aged about forty, of medium height and size, comfortable in his 
 circumstances, married, and of very regular habits. As he told 
 me his case, the idea of delirium tremeiis became uppermost in 
 my mind, yet I could not find any evidence of habitual or even 
 occasional tippling. In ascertaining the cause, I purposely left 
 to the end of my examination the question respecting marital 
 relationship. As I anticipated, and I may say en passant, that 
 there are many cases in which a glance at the countenance tells 
 the educated physician the cause and nature of his client's 
 illness the gentleman had been too regular in his habits. I 
 told him so, and impressed upon him, as best 1 could, the ad- 
 visability of self-control. He left me, but returned in about a 
 month. His manner appalled me. He seemed as if under a 
 fatal influence. I feared that he would die in my consulting- 
 room. Such an apparent wreck I never before had seen. Fear- 
 ing that I might have misunderstood his case at our first 
 interview, I carefully went over it again, and " driven into a 
 corner/' fairly apologised for asking whether he had made any 
 change at home. "There you have me Doctor," was his reply. 
 " I tell you honestly that I did not believe you, and I was de- 
 termined to demonstrate that you were wrong, to my wife's 
 remonstrances, and she quite agreed with you, I answered 
 brusquely, and was worse than ever. I plead guilty, and have 
 come to say so. Do the best you can for me ; I'll obey you now." 
 
 After such a confession, can any man doubt that age differs 
 from youth, or refuse to see that wisdom ought to be more allied 
 to hoary locks than passion, and that age should indulge in 
 reason rather than in love. If we wish to conserve health, the 
 effect will be produced less by taking drugs than by avoiding 
 those causes which are certain to impair it. 
 
CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 THE INFANT JUST ARRIVED AND ITS MANAGEMENT. 
 
 I WELL remember, though nearly a quarter of a century has 
 elapsed since then the pleasure with which I ushered my 
 first-born into the world. But the joy was soon dashed, for he 
 had not been in the nurse's arms a minute, ere I learned that 
 another baby was following him. As the second emerged into 
 light, the pride of having twins, and a feeling of the cares 
 which must ensue, struggled for mastery in my mind ; only to 
 be displaced again by the alarming fact that the second seemed 
 to be quite dead. My business demanded instant attention to 
 the duties of resuscitation, and just as breathing began to be 
 established, the attendant summoned me once again to the bed- 
 side where my wife was in danger of death from flooding. All 
 things, however, seemed right at last, and I suspended my 
 medical cares for a time whilst I wrote to friends to tell of the 
 happy event. On paying my next visit I found the twins duly 
 dressed and sleeping in the same cot looking very bonny, and 
 as mamma was doing well, I would not have exchanged places 
 with any one. There is a time in which we can cordially enjoy 
 the poetry of life and I revelled in it fully. But the prose came 
 soon. I watched the first contact between the infant lips and 
 the maternal bosom, only to see the food returned as yellow as 
 if it had been dyed with turmeric. Time after time did the 
 tiny twins go to their natural source of nourishment only to 
 reject their food after the same fashion. A wet nurse was no 
 better, for the children still rejected breast-milk, and always 
 with apparently the same amount of bile. We then went 
 through a series of trials of slops of various kinds, and not 
 content with that, adopted a change from town to country air. 
 It was all in vain, and at the end of two months I followed the 
 second to his grave, to which he had been brought by sheer 
 starvation, dying of hunger in the midst of plenty, and pining, 
 though constantly taking what to others would have been food. 
 Through two long years we nursed the first with anxious mind ; 
 he went through frequent attacks of diarrhoea, convulsions, 
 false croup, water in the head, mesenteric disease and abscesses 
 of the bones ; but he weathered the storms which blew around 
 his infant barque, and now gladdens us all by his strength and 
 cordiality. He is, indeed, the sturdiest of my flock. After he 
 
 E 2 
 
52 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 had ceased to trouble us as regards his health, another came, 
 a noble looking lad who knew how to wreathe himself round a 
 father's heart, him I lost from hydrocephalus a girl arrived 
 only to sicken of the same complaint, though not to die. But as 
 I am not writing my family history, I will say no more than 
 that of all my flock only the half survive, all died ere they had 
 attained their fifth year, and I have consequently had abundant 
 cause to know the anxiety which attends the life of infants. 
 
 I should fill a volume were I to attempt to tell all I have un- 
 learned and all which I have ascertained from experience. How 
 to select the most salient points and to compress them into a 
 single chapter is a puzzle indeed. 
 
 Let us begin with a child who is nursed by its mother or 
 some hired substitute ; we have little to do with it so long as it 
 is kept warm, comfortable and free from physic : it awakes to 
 suck, lies down to sleep, pees and possets, and once or twice 
 a day makes a golden deposit in a snowy napkin. The nurse 
 soaks every foul bit of linen in water, so as thoroughly to 
 remove the urine and so prevent a stink, and there we have a 
 model baby ; but perchance it has an attack of convulsions, or 
 of diarrhoea, or of screaming, what's to be done ? Why, ex- 
 amine the mother and ten to one we shall find that she been in 
 a "tantrum" or has been profoundly shaken by anxiety, has 
 been taking physic or been suffering from accidental diarrhoea : 
 exhaustion in the mother produces " yelling" in the suck- 
 ling. 
 
 Perhaps nothing wrong can be found on the mother's side, 
 we must then examine the sleeping arrangements, &c., and if 
 all be faultless, we may fairly conclude that it is the tow T n which 
 is doing mischief, and recourse must be had at once to the air 
 of the country. I have known children daily convulsed in the 
 city, and where the cure has been immediate on removal to the 
 sea-side. I have seen a child, in my own arms, change the 
 fashion of its countenance from that of approaching death, to 
 placid sleep, at the instant when the westerly breeze, fresh from 
 the ocean, played upon its cheeks. 
 
 The importance of pure air is shown most conspicuously in 
 those unfortunates who have to be brought up by hand from 
 birth. It is a very rare thing for any one to succeed in rearing 
 an infant by dry nursing in the town, it is very rarely that we 
 fail to do so in the country ; the food which seems to act as an 
 irritant in the borough, is digested in the county, and the extra 
 cost of a suburban villa is generally more than counterbalanced 
 by the diminution in doctors' bills. This reminds me of what 
 all must know, that circumstances occasionally compel us to 
 bring up infants without any thing from the maternal breast or 
 that of a substitute. Whenever this is the case, a wonderful 
 
THE INFANT JUST ARKIVED, AND ITS MANAGEMENT. 53 
 
 amount of care is necessary in every detail, the food, the dress, 
 the airing, have all to be thought of. 
 
 The food should be very thin, sweet, warm, and free from 
 any flavour, and it should be administered in small quantity 
 and at regular intervals. Of the value of thin food, let the 
 following anecdote speak. My eldest son could not take even 
 asses' milk, poor though it is, until it was diluted with water, 
 if the mixture was in equal parts, it produced vomiting, 
 whereas, five parts of water and four of milk formed a nourishing 
 diet. It is difficult to induce mothers and nurses, nay, I have 
 had even to persuade doctors' to give thin food to young infants, 
 but a very little practical experience soon convinces them of the 
 value of the rule. If any one is sceptical, let him examine 
 the milk which comes from one of the nurse's breasts while the 
 baby is sucking at the other, they will find that it is poor stuff, 
 and that a human baby does not get any thing like such rich 
 material on which to live as a calf does. 
 
 Food may apparently be thin and yet too rich for an infantile 
 stomach, and the physician watches with jealousy the use of 
 milk instead of cream. The curds in the first not unfrequently 
 produce indigestion. The farmer's wife uses the stomach of a 
 calf to " crack" milk and make cheese, the nurse forgets that 
 the child's stomach may do the same, and that a diet of 
 cheese is too strong for a baby. A medical friend once sent me 
 some fragments of something which had been voided by an 
 infant and informed me that their advent was always preceded 
 by severe pain. On examination, I found that they were literally 
 fragments of cheese, bat the strictest inquiry showed that no 
 " fromage" had been taken, consequently, it was clear that the 
 milk on which the infant was fed was converted into cheese in 
 the stomach, and when changed became as irritating to the 
 bowels as if it had been a bit of Stilton from Leicestershire. 
 
 The best of all diets for an infant who cannot have the breast 
 is one part of cream, two or three parts of water, according to 
 the density of the cream, and enough sugar to make the mixture 
 very sweet. The chemists who have analysed the milk pro- 
 duced by various animals tell us that the fluid produced by the 
 woman and the ass contain the smallest amount of curd, and 
 that both are very saccharine, and experience tells us that the 
 mixture recommended above, forms the nearest approach to the 
 maternal fluid. Here, let me answer a question often asked by 
 patients viz., " Does the infant draw into itself with the food it 
 gets from the breast the mental peculiarities of the nurse ?" 
 There is no doubt that at least one disease may be so transmitted, 
 but it is doubtful whether any other can be, it is certain that 
 the mind of man which is only developed by the lapse of years 
 cannot be influenced by the food he takes in his cradle. If any 
 
54? THE PKESEKVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 milk could give stupidity to its recipient, that of a donkey 
 ought to be pre-eminently powerful in that way, and my son 
 ought to be an ass, and that he certainly is not. It must, 
 however, never be lost sight of, that the condition of the nurse 
 does most materially affect the bodily health of her charge. A 
 purge taken, a day's fatigue, a glass of whiskey toddy, a 
 " poorly time," a common catarrh, and many other things of 
 a like kind will affect the milk, even when a woman is young 
 and strong. The influence of age in the nurse upon the quality 
 of the infant's food is more remarkable than any other of common 
 occurrence. The first infant and the second may drain their 
 mother more completely than the seventh and eighth, but if her 
 appetite is good and her digestion strong, the drain is more 
 than compensated by food (and as a digression, let me say 
 that slops, as a rule, make better milk than beer or porter or 
 gin, and vegetable food does better for the babe than animal), 
 but when, by lapse of time, by hard work or other cause the 
 nurse becomes aged, the milk she produces is no longer whole- 
 some, the chemist can find no fault in it, but the. baby can, 
 and every " nursing," after the evening one, sometimes every 
 meal, without an exception, is followed by a fit of screaming 
 in the infant. It cannot be too generally known, or too often 
 repeated, that a screaming baby tells of an overworked or other- 
 wise enfeebled nurse. 
 
 But we must not confine our attention to the nursling at the 
 breast ; we must pursue it through the stages of teething, and 
 not leave it till it becomes boy or girl. There is a period when 
 the infant must be weaned. When that occurrence takes place, 
 the mother and child must be separated, a milch woman smells 
 of milk as does a cow, and with the scent the baby is 
 induced to wish for milk alone, without the scent it will be 
 content with what it can get. 
 
 When weaning is effected, the mother naturally considers 
 what food is most appropriate to her offspring. There is no 
 doubt that the best transition from human milk is to that of the 
 cow, with the addition of any farinaceous material, every thing 
 allied to animal food must be carefully avoided. I do not know 
 any more important rule in the diet of young children than 
 this. So strong is my opinion of this point, that I shall run 
 the risk of saying too much rather than too little upon it. 
 
 I will begin with an episode in my family history. At four 
 o'clock one morning, I was summoned to see my eldest boy, 
 who was in convulsions. He was in the country, under my mo- 
 ther's and my wife's care, and I had seen him the day before in 
 apparent health, his grandmother exulting that he was taking 
 beef-tea with every meal. For twelve hours he hovered between 
 life and death, and when I left him out of danger, I mused on 
 
THE INFANT JUST ARRIVED, AND ITS MANAGEMENT. 55 
 
 all the cases of convulsions I had then seen. 1 recalled a 
 frightful example in which a young man who had been fed 
 highly upon a profuse animal diet, suffered severely from con- 
 vulsions, lasting for nearly a whole day. I remembered others 
 of a similar class. As a result, I forbade beef-tea, mutton broth, 
 and every other form of animal food for my infant son. His 
 grandmother, however, at whose house he was staying, pleaded 
 very hard for permission to administer as much as the yolk of an 
 egg at least once a day, and my filial instinct prevailed over my 
 medical judgment. I was young, my mother experienced, and 
 when instead of convulsions, I found that I had to deal with 
 false croup, it did not occur to me that the diet could be much 
 at fault. But day by day the attacks increased in severity, and 
 when I left home for my daily rounds, I feared to find the 
 shutters closed on my return. This necessitated the closest 
 watching the egg was countermanded, and for a week the 
 croup was suspended. In the interest of others, I then allowed 
 the yolk of a single egg to be given, it was followed by the 
 usual attack, a fortnight was then allowed to follow, without 
 an egg being given, and no convulsions of any kind ensued. 
 Another egg was tried, and when the false croup returned as 
 badly as before, no farther evidence was necessary to convince 
 me of the connexion between cause and effect 
 
 Since that period I have been an attentive observer of the 
 effects of an animal diet in infancy, and am perfectly convinced 
 that even so small a modicum of it as good meat gravy upon 
 potatoes is, in many instances, the cause of convulsions, or of 
 symptoms which most would read as indicative of approaching 
 hydrocephalus. I would lay it down as an authoritative rule 
 that no infant ought to take animal food until it has cut all its 
 double teeth. 
 
 The anxious parent, however, who sees its child apparently 
 dying from inanition, will doubtless ask what is to be sub- 
 stituted in its place I answer unhesitatingly, some form of 
 alcohol diluted, sweetened and mixed so as to be palatable. 
 
 At this point, a crowd of memories inundate my mind, and 
 from them I will select a few. I was accidentally called to see 
 the infant of a medical acquaintance. I found a group con- 
 sisting of the anxious parents, another medical friend, and a 
 baby, apparently at its last gasp. I had taken some chloroform 
 with me, and I poured some upon my hand and let the child 
 inhale it ; in less than a minute it was sitting up and smiling ; 
 it was purged and again it collapsed ; again the chloroform 
 was given and some sweet brandy and water, and as soon as it 
 could be prepared, "whey" from milk was used instead of 
 water, and the infant was kept alive till it could be transported 
 to the country, where it was reared. Another child was attacked 
 
56 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 with convulsions and " water in the head," after a severe attack 
 of purging, and for hours seemed dying ; she also was brought 
 round by chloroform and wine and water in eight hours. A 
 friend has told me of one instance in which a child with mesen- 
 teric disease was saved by a diet consisting of very sweet weak 
 brandy and water, and of another which was brought round by 
 a fortnight's use of good Scotch ale. 
 
 In all cases now, my general plan, whenever a weak or puny 
 infant has to be brought up, is to recommend: (1). Pure 
 country air, where it can be managed, this is the most import- 
 ant point, but unfortunately, children born in the healthiest 
 localities may require our care, as well as those necessarily con- 
 fined to towns, and we have to prolong our list of directions. (2). 
 Warmth is essential. (3). The diet must be vegetable, adminis- 
 tered in definite quantities and at stated periods, and of these two 
 items it is impossible to write particularly, as each case is a sepa- 
 rate study. (4). Where each meal is loathed, or when each 
 administration of food requires the exercise of authority, it is 
 the best plan to precede it by the use of a small quantity of 
 sweet brandy and water, rum-shrub, sherry, or other alcoholic 
 fluid. In saying thus, I must be explicit first as to the strength 
 required, secondly, as to its after effects. The first is best 
 judged of by the father's palate, the mixture should be allowed 
 to remain in his inouth about a minute and then swallowed, if 
 it makes the throat feel hot, the amount of spirit is too great, 
 if the flavour left is " mawkish" the mixture is too weak. 
 Two tea-spoonfuls of brandy in a large wine-glassful of warm 
 water and plenty of sugar is about the usual proportion, and 
 about half this may be given to a very young infant ; the child 
 of larger growth, say six months of age, may take the whole, 
 and about from four to six times a day. If it produces fever- 
 ishness, it must be suspended for a day or two. Parents natu- 
 rally imagine that a baby brought up to take brandy as a medi- 
 cine, will ultimately require it as food, nothing can be farther 
 from the reality. I have known a child adore its toddy bottle, 
 which for a month was its only diet ; at the end of that time, 
 when a normal appetite was restored, loathe the very sight of 
 any flask and cry at the smell of whisky. Let me, however, 
 appeal to the sense of others rather than my own experience. 
 Does anybody in adult life cry out for " tops and bottoms ?" 
 Does the nurse who mixes the baby's pap feel irresistibly drawn 
 to rob it of its dues ? Does the father when he sees his youngster 
 eager for the maternal breast feel a longing to go back to his own 
 once loved food ? If custom irresistibly compels us to take for 
 ever anything we once enjoyed, there are many of us who would 
 prefer "cowslip wine" to "claret," and "poor ale" to "Bass's 
 beer." I have known many drunkards who have been teetotal- 
 
THE INFANT JUST ARRIVED, AND ITS MANAGEMENT. 57 
 
 lers during infancy and youth. I have not yet known a single- 
 instance in which the medicinal use of alcohol during the first 
 year or two of life has heen followed by a love for liquor. (5). 
 To return from this digression, we would recommend as the 
 next in importance for the improvement of health in infancy, 
 the profuse employment of oil. This may be either olive, 
 almond, or cod-liver, cream or butter may do as well, and 
 amongst the poor, lard is not a bad substitute, it may be beaten 
 up with the white of egg, flavoured with almonds and given as 
 custard, or if the stomach should loathe it under any form, 
 and if from circumstances it is desirable to be unremitting in 
 our endeavours to prevent death by inanition, the body should 
 be well rubbed with the oil and the child allowed to live in its 
 greasy clothes. To the eye this does not look "pretty," and the 
 cleanly mother may think that such a plan is next door to 
 making her child an infidel, as it removes cleanliness ; so far, 
 however, is this from the truth, that I can assure any one who 
 will try the plan, that he will be enamoured of it when he sees 
 the delight with which the little one receives its oleaginous 
 supply. (Q). As a rule it is advisable to confine the delicate 
 infant to the house, except during warm weather; however 
 warmly a child is clothed, cold air still will reach its lungs and 
 starve its blood during winter. 
 
 I have as yet said nothing of the important period of teething. 
 When a young doctor, I was taught to believe that few babies 
 could survive this process unless carefully tended by some 
 accomplished physician or some shrewd apothecary, who would 
 serve out medicines according to the exigencies of the case. 
 When a man I reflected that beasts cut their teeth without the 
 aid of the " pharmacien," and that puppies had no convulsions 
 when their " little toothy pegs " were " shooting." Then I 
 thought that it was possible that human babies became con- 
 vulsed from the too great attention of the doctor, and that if 
 they were left alone their teeth would come as easily as a calf's. 
 Farther reflection taught me that convulsions were more 
 common in the delicate than in the strong- in those who lived 
 on animal than amongst those who took a vegetable diet con- 
 sequently, that purgatives were prejudicial, and broths danger- 
 ous, and these were the things I had been taught to recommend ! 
 As a rule, then, I resolved that I would let my own young ones 
 alone, and try to induce others to do so too, nor have I seen 
 any reason to regret my decision. During the last twenty 
 years I have never in niy own practice had to interfere with the 
 process of teething, except occasionally by lancing the gurns 
 when they have been very swollen, red, and tender, and where a 
 perpetual feverish cry tells of continuous suffering. 
 
 Ere I conclude the present essay, let me give an account of a 
 
58 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 case of by no means unfrequent occurrence. I was summoned 
 to see a fine handsome looking lad, abont two years of age, who 
 had a serious convulsive attack. If I remember rightly, the 
 first attendant lanced the gums over some coming teeth, and 
 ordered calomel and beef-tea. The child got worse, a second 
 "medico" was called in, who continued the treatment, adding 
 some sedative mixture, prussic acid and camphor mixture. As 
 the convulsions continued, the two were undecided whether to 
 stop the mercury or to push it on until it produced " charac- 
 teristic green stools." I was called in at the juncture, as a sort 
 of umpire. My decision was not unlike that of the monkey 
 between the two cats, I held forth as genially as I could upon 
 the terrors of calomel, and described beef-tea as a seductive 
 siren which drew children on to perdition, and ended by giving 
 a verdict against both the one and the other. A little manage- 
 ment was necessary to enable the first attendants to appear to 
 be the originators of the change of plan, but they were shrewd 
 and hearty, carried out the suggestions, cured their patient and 
 got a " wrinkle" which will, I doubt not, benefit many an infant" 
 yet unborn. 
 
 As an epilogue, let me issue an address to parents. My dear 
 friends, do not be amateur doctors, and try experiments on your 
 children. Never physic them at all, shun, for them potions 
 and powders as you would a child with the measles. Eest 
 assured that the more you physic them the worse they will be. 
 Be ye also sure that growing children require a large proportion 
 of food, and are pulled down by abstinence much, sooner and 
 more completely than yourselves. If a child can't eat, let him 
 lie in bed till he can, and when he is starving himself, do not 
 you pull him down more by a dose of physic. In fine, treat 
 your baby as the careful farm wife would her calf, coddle the 
 calf and you'll get a fine cow or bull, coddle the baby and you 
 may hope for a handsome adult to follow, try to harden the 
 calf by starving it with cold, and it will soon become veal, try 
 to harden the infant and you will soon have to measure it for a 
 long box. 
 
CHAPTEK X. 
 
 THE CHILD BECOMING BOY OR GIRL. 
 
 THE Registrar-General of births, marriages, &c., tells us that in 
 round numbers, the moiety of all the deaths which he chronicles 
 occur in children, at or under five years of age, we need no fur- 
 ther evidence than this to show how important it is to pay 
 attention to our young ones in this period of their growth. 
 Teething has passed, the infant has begun to talk, perhaps to 
 chatter freely, and run about merrily, yet it has entered upon 
 the season for measles and hooping-cough, scarlatina, mumps, 
 and chicken pox, to say nothing of those thousand and one 
 accidents to which all of this kind are liable. It is at this 
 time of life, that water in the head is most threatening, and 
 consumption first shows its bud. The brain and bones, the 
 lungs and skin are alike liable to the invasion of disease, which, 
 when once manifested, increases with a rapidity unknown in 
 later years. The anxious parents, especially if either one or 
 both are of a delicate stock, watch during these early years 
 with careful attention over their offspring, and are incessant in 
 their observation, lest, by some inadvertence on their part, some 
 fatal " cold " shall be taken, or other ill occur. The matron who 
 has a flock of young ones to look after, will not walk on the 
 same side of the road as one whom she knows to be the father 
 of a tribe which is afflicted with scarlet fever, nor will she come 
 knowingly within a hundred yards of a house where there is 
 measles. 
 
 Yet, although Materfamilias takes such care of her offspring, 
 she often proceeds on a plan which is sure to bring about the 
 very event which most she dreads. She has drawn her infor- 
 mation from some source which she considers to be quite un- 
 impeachable, but which may nevertheless, be faulty in the ex- 
 treme. She may have trusted some medical work, highly 
 spoken of in the weekly newspaper over which she occasionally 
 pores ; or which she may have seen accidentally in the house of 
 some old school friend, who has preceded her in matrimony. 
 Such book almost invariably contains the crotchets of the writer, 
 whatever they may be, and is too often like the celebrated 
 razors which would not cut but were " made to sell." It is cer- 
 tainly intended to magnify the author's fame, and to let the 
 world know to whom application should be made when a child 
 
60 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 is ill. Unfortunately, the majority of such books are calculated 
 first to frighten those who read them, and secondly, to induce 
 them so to act, when they see cause for anxiety, as to make 
 matters worse. It seems a very simple thing to give a powder 
 for a foul breath, or a dose of rhubarb and magnesia to open 
 bowels which appear to . be sluggish but it was during the 
 palmy days when physic nourished in the nursery, that the 
 greatest amount of disease was found. One prescription paved 
 the way for a second, and that again for an infinite array. 
 
 I well remember having to visit a child about four years old, 
 in the absence of its own doctor, one who was distinguished 
 alike for intellectual attainments, suavity of manner, skill in 
 gaining the confidence of his patients, and the versatility of his 
 prescriptions. Like many a writer of books on infantile disease, 
 he had a profound faith in medicaments, and was unsparing in 
 their use. I found the patient suffering in iny opinion, from 
 the abuse of medicine, and urged as delicately as I could, that 
 all drugs should be suspended till my friend's return " that I 
 felt sure he would so act were he in my place, for that every 
 physician, when he saw no change for the better after the use of 
 a medicine, would suspend its operation," &c., &c. On my re- 
 turn home, I received a polite note from the lady informing me 
 that I need not visit the house again, &c. Many years after- 
 wards I was sent for to see another child of the same family, 
 the ordinary attendant being absent from the country. The 
 day was bitterly cold, yet my patient, a girl of nine years, was 
 dressed very lightly with a frock very low in the neck, and 
 very short in the skirt. The skin was livid where it was not 
 wax like, and the complaint which I was called upon to treat, 
 was faintness, debility, want of appetite, and excessive languor, 
 I asked after the child whom I had seen before, and was not 
 surprised to learn that it died shortly after my seeing it. The 
 medicines as the mother and the doctor determined, were con- 
 tinued ; though changed in form, they were not modified in 
 quality, and the poor thing died a victim to grey powder, rhubarb, 
 magnesia, or other such like drugs. 
 
 When I had gained the maternal confidence I found, that 
 she was still a confirmed believer in the use of medicine, and 
 had been dosing her daughter with the favourite preparation of 
 her trusted Esculapius, and I had the greatest difficulty in per- 
 suading her that management was better than mercury, and 
 warmth of more importance than senna tea. When converted, a 
 flood of memories came upon her, and told her how completely 
 she had been a curse to her children, while she was hoping to 
 prove a blessing ; but its sting was partly removed by the de- 
 termination to act again no more in the same fashion. 
 
 The reader will naturally say " but whom are we to trust if 
 
THE CHILD BECOMING BOY OR GIEL. 61 
 
 you take away our confidence in books, and shake our trust in 
 popular physicians?" How can any of us tell whether you, 
 writer are any better than your neighbours, and whether the 
 hand you offer to us as a Iriendly guide, may not itself lead us 
 to the edge of some precipice and then shove us over ? 
 
 Such questions are natural, and they are proper too. " Who 
 shall decide where doctors disagree," has passed into a proverb, 
 but it rarely receives an answer. Although each person may de- 
 clare his inability to solve the problem, the majority do so after a 
 fashion, when they select any particular medical man or 
 one of homoeopathic, aquatic, muscular, or drug-giving pro- 
 pensities in preference to any other. When once selected, tact 
 on the part of the doctor, usually suffices to bind the patient to 
 his car, and his will becomes law, till another " medico " comes 
 in the way, whose tact is superior to that of the first. The true 
 solution of the question lies in an appeal to common sense, and 
 in the results shown by any particular plan of treatment. 
 
 But common sense cannot be exercised without observation 
 and thought, and the results of one treatment can only be 
 known by comparison with those of another, or with the natural 
 order of events. These, therefore, we must use largely. 
 
 Now, let us see what common sense tells about the growth of 
 the young. It tells us that lions and camels, elephants and 
 buffaloes, rats and mice, cows and sheep, all alike, grow up to 
 maturity without swallowing a dose of physic. For them, 
 rhubarb is a myth, and " brown powders " are by them unknown. 
 We see that the lamb frisks about and plays, that the young 
 puppy bites at leather while his teeth are springing, and the 
 kitten amuses herself with her new claws. The calf grows up 
 to maturity without a yoke being placed on his neck, and the 
 foal becomes a horse ere he is put into the shafts. It is true 
 that some " two year olds," and those twelve months older are 
 occasionally set to race, but so far as I can learn, the practice is 
 objurgated by the sensible horseman who deplores to see the 
 energy, which should make a good horse, frittered away ere he 
 has fully left foaldom. 
 
 But man, whose growth is far slower than that of any animal, 
 who does not arrive at apparent maturity until he is sixteen, 
 and at real maturity until he is about six and twenty, is expected 
 to be able to work and grow, as if he was born a carthorse or an 
 admirable Crichton. JSTo sooner can the child speak well, but he 
 must learn to read, no sooner can he read but he must learn to 
 think, and no sooner can he think but he must learn to talk 
 another tongue and cogitate in a strange language. With all 
 this his growing limbs must keep in motion, whether they like 
 it or not ; he must, as best he can, toddle over the roads for 
 some three or four hours daily to strengthen his joints and 
 
62 THE PRESERVATION OP HEALTH. 
 
 though the bones bend under the weight, and the arch of the 
 foot becomes flattened, still he must walk on until it is evidently 
 hopeless for him to perambulate any more. I know at the 
 present time a lad aged about four, " the only son of his mother 
 and she a widow " who is becoming bowlegged and otherwise 
 distorted from the energy with which he is compelled to walk 
 with mamma, herself as slim and active as a mountain goat. 
 
 I can remember the misery I experienced in my childhood 
 from the daily walk and the weekly increase of suffering- 
 involved in two long pilgrimages to and from church, which 
 were usually supplemented by a peregrination with "the 
 governor," who was as anxious to stretch his legs as we were 
 desirous to rest our own, and now, when a man, T can still see 
 distressfully in the crying face- of a young child, and his vigorous 
 attachment to the nurse's gown, how much he suffers from his 
 peripatetic exertions. 
 
 It must be evident to every reflecting mind that man has no 
 power to hasten growth the most impatient father cannot 
 " force " his offspring like a gardener can " force " his vines or 
 melons. He cannot compel his son's mind to develop itself any 
 more than he can his body, yet he nevertheless makes the 
 attempt, and hails the rapid dawning of his intelligence as a 
 herald of future glories. 
 
 Let us here for a moment linger on the question what would 
 happen to a young horse if we 'were to work him in a cart as 
 soon as he was one year old, or if we attempted to train a, puppy 
 as soon as it could see. The result would certainly be more 
 likely to produce death than a vigorous adult age. In like 
 manner the " forced " intellect soon dies out, and if the prodigy 
 of the youthful nursery survives to be a man, he is mostly the 
 biggest fool of the family while he, who from being the greatest 
 dunce was let alone while young, developes into the sensible, 
 thoughtful, and plodding man. 
 
 The nervous system in youth is growing like every part of the 
 body, with growth there is less firmness of tissue than there is 
 when time has allowed them to "set" a growing child is 
 always weaker than one at rest, like a rod which is elongated 
 without addition to its bulk. " Spurts " of growth occur with 
 the majority, and these are followed by periods of rest during 
 the former, the child is as weak as if it had been pulled down 
 by fever, and is cross, fretful, feverish, headachy, full of pains, 
 and more disposed for bed than to pedestrianise. When the 
 " spurt " has ceased, the appetite improves, perhaps becomes 
 ravenous, play is resumed, and there is the appearance of full 
 health until another start is made and the old story comes over 
 again. 
 
 Now, if in these periods of increase, the brain and body are 
 
THE CHILD BECOMING BOY OK UIKL. 63 
 
 taxed as usual, if a child is made to learn when he is low in 
 strength, the same lessons which he was expected to prepare 
 when at his best, he is sure, either to suffer physically from 
 disease of the brain, or bodily from the application of the rod, 
 many a poor lad gets unmercifully punished from not being 
 able to master a task to-day which he did with ease a month 
 ago. The reason is obvious to the attentive observer who can 
 see that the will is present but the power absent. In looking 
 back upon my own childhood, I can recall many a time in 
 which the cane was more deserved by the stupidity of the 
 master than by the conduct of the boy, the last was dull from 
 the necessities of his nature, the first was culpable in not 
 studying the physical as well as the mental condition of those 
 under his charge. Let me ask any of my brethren, or any man 
 who has much work to do, if they cannot recall a time when, 
 their daily toil being ended, they have taken up a book to 
 study, arid found the task impossible, the page is before them, 
 they see the words, they mark the stops, perhaps even they 
 take snuff to force a sneeze, or they read aloud, so as to attach 
 the brain through the ear as well as through the eye, but all is 
 useless, the overworked man cannot take in a single idea, or if 
 he does succeed, it is at the expense of his night's rest, for an 
 overtaxed brain is generally too tired to sleep. As it is with 
 the adult so it is with the child. He may be too weak to think 
 from sheer growth of body, or from abundance of play. Lessons 
 must, doubtless, be learned somehow or other, but parents, who 
 value the condition of their children's young heads, should in- 
 sist on none being prepared at night. The schoolboy, tired with 
 his day's play, if he sit down at eight or nine o'clock to learn a 
 task, has no power left in him to do it. The old pedagogues 
 knew something of this when they insisted upon lessons being 
 learned in the morning after the night's rest. 
 
 Hard intellectual work prepares the man to succumb under 
 comparatively trifling injuries. The late Sir Eobert Peel died 
 from an accident which would not have confined a " navvy " to 
 bed, and typhus is fatal in proportion to the intellectual status 
 of the victim. Who cannot recall the names of Count Cavour 
 and Prince Albert, who were cut down by blows from which 
 others would have readily rallied. It is so with children, the 
 more highly their minds are cultivated, the more likely are they 
 to fall under measles and scarlet fever, it is the dunces who 
 escape, it is the domestic prodigy which succumbs to disease. 
 
 A delicate child is usually sedentary, it has not the energy 
 to play, so it very naturally delights in reading, its weak brain 
 seems active, and it is irritable; if it is worked it becomes 
 exhausted, and at length diseased, and water in the head is a 
 natural sequence of extreme mental culture. 
 
64 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 If health is to .be preserved during early youth the child must 
 be treated on the same principle as a foal would be. He or she, 
 for the remark applies equally to both sexes, must be allowed to 
 a great extent to " run wild/' and " lessons " must be carefully 
 graduated to the bodily powers. There is an old saying in 
 Shakespeare which often comes to my memory : 
 
 " May-be he is not well, 
 Infirmity doth still neglect all office, 
 Whereto our health is bound ; we are not ourselves, 
 When Nature being opprest commands the mind 
 To suffer with the body." King Lear. Act 2. Scene iii. 
 
 It is certainly so with adults, it is constantly so with children. 
 They are naughty because they are " below par," and refuse to 
 work at books because they have not the power. Even the 
 donkey, when taxed beyond its strength, will prefer to bear a 
 load of blows rather than to kill itself by labour, and a child 
 who is worth anything, will prefer to bear punishment rather 
 than task itself to do what it feels is beyond its strength. 
 
 In a previous essay, we have stated that a crying infant 
 implies a weakly mother ; in the present we enunciate the 
 proposition that a boy or girl who, being usually good and 
 proper, is unusually fractious, perverse, irritable, or lazy, is ill, 
 and requires rest, repose, bed, food, and sleep, rather than the 
 birch, rod, bread and water, or the dark closet. Still farther we 
 aver, that the individual knows its condition, recognizes the 
 tyranny which would enforce labour from the tired-out horse, 
 and lays up in its young mind the first store of that painful 
 debt, which it expects in future years to get paid off, by nasty 
 speeches to the mother, by annoyance to the father, or by dis- 
 agreeable behaviour to the world in general. 
 
 If we wish to preserve our offspring in health and to retain 
 their affection, if we desire to keep their health to the highest 
 possible standard, and to land them at the quay of adolescence 
 with the utmost possible amount of youthful vigour, we must 
 treat them during their early years as if they were favourite 
 puppies. When good we must let them feel that we are the 
 best friends they have, when naughty, our punishments must 
 be sharp and momentary ; when they are disposed to learn we 
 must be careful to teach ; when dull, we must let lessons alone ; 
 if they want an escapade, we must wink at it first, and correct 
 it afterwards, just as we would scold a drunken workman when 
 the beer had gone out of him, rather than when he was full of 
 liquor and sauce. If induced to guzzle and to make the whole 
 happiness of life depend upon gastronomic joys, we must limit 
 the "portions" given rather than allow "supplies" without 
 end and supplement them by physic. In cold weather we must 
 clothe our young ones as nature covers the Welsh pony or the 
 
THE CHILD BECOMING BOY OR GIRL. 65 
 
 patient ass ; in the warmth of summer, we must alike imitate 
 the universal mother and throw off superfluous wraps. In other 
 words, we must treat our children with the same care which we 
 bestow upon dumb creatures, and with the same abstinence 
 from hard work and nasty physic. 
 
 If the mind is educated thus, there certainly can be little 
 doubt as to the possibility of forming a judgment upon the direc- 
 tions of a physician, or the value of his drugs in the treatment of 
 children. Surely any one can see that the result of natural 
 growth cannot be prevented by purgatives, nor ill-humour and 
 pouting be cured by powders and potions ; and if the doctor 
 profess to attempt it, we may fairly doubt his judgment ; we 
 may doubt it still farther, if, with the administration of reme- 
 dies, the patient becomes worse. But there is this to be said in 
 favour of those who practise our profession which must never be 
 lost sight of, viz., that if they wish to get their living by their 
 knowledge, they must not only use it to do the right thing, but 
 they must understand when it is not judicious to give effect to 
 their science. If a doctor has to attend a family, the heads of 
 which have a strong faith in drugs, he knows that to attempt 
 to cure by hygiene alone will suffice to bring round his dismis- 
 sal. As the majority of the people are in this category, it is 
 very natural for the physician to use medicaments. This will, 
 however, be altered, as soon as common sense reigns in the 
 bosom of every family, and its dictates are followed rather than 
 those of a " domestic medicine " book. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE CHILD BECOMING MAN. 
 
 THERE are two " wise saws " to the effect that " the boy's the 
 father to the man," and that " as the twig is bent the tree's in- 
 clined. As it is with many other old sayings attributed to the 
 " wisdom of the ancients," there is only a limited amount of 
 truth in them, and it does not require much research to demon- 
 strate that the two are almost antagonistic ; for the first affirms 
 that, in the main, education does little, if anything, to change 
 the nature of the individual ; whilst the latter is founded upon 
 the belief that training is all-powerful. Not being content to 
 take any fact as genuine, simply because it has long been 
 credited, I determined many years ago when for the first time 
 I had boys of my own to bring up to test the second adage 
 quoted above. For experiment, I chose a tall young sapling of 
 a year's growth, and by means of pegs and wires bent it down- 
 wards until it became almost horizontal ; the time selected was 
 that in which the leaf-buds show themselves, and in which a 
 daily progress may be noted so long as the weather is genial. 
 Every morning as it passed witnessed my interest in the experi- 
 ment ; and I saw, I can scarcely say with surprise, that all the 
 buds upon what was once the summit of the tree were arrested 
 in their growth almost entirely, while those in the lower portion 
 which were pointed upwards received a fresh impulse. Ere the 
 year was out, the main stem of the past appeared as a horizon- 
 tal branch, and a small one too, of the growing tree, and I read 
 easily the moral enclosed in the Latin line " Naturam expellas, 
 furca tarnen usque recurret;" i.e., if you drive nature out with 
 a pitchfork, it will nevertheless come back again. Where I now 
 reside an illustration of a similar kind may be seen before my 
 door. There is growing, close beside one of its congeners, a birch 
 tree, and from some cause its main stem has been bent at an 
 obtuse angle from the trunk. Yet year by year, what was once 
 a small twig arising at the angle is assuming larger proportions, 
 and will ultimately become the most prominent feature of the 
 tree. What is true of certain trees is true of human beings ; as 
 the gardener cannot make a creeper grow like an oak, or a 
 weeping willow shoot upwards like a larch, as he cannot make 
 an alpine plant flourish in a " stove," or a " conservatory " shrub 
 thrive on the mountains so neither the parent nor the doctor 
 
THE CHILD BECOMING MAN. 67 
 
 can transform a natural sneak into a magnanimous hero, nor 
 convert the rough honesty of one of nature's gentlemen into 
 the smooth-faced hypocrisy of the treacherous Hindoo. A wolf 
 will still be savage and bloodthirsty, no matter what may have 
 been its education, and the sheep will ever be timid, no matter 
 what the pains the shepherd takes to teach it courage. 
 
 But though education cannot eradicate natural propensities, 
 it is often successful in enabling the individual to conquer them 
 by the force of his will ; and it is, I understand, a well-known 
 fact, that the coward by birth who masters the failing by the 
 energy of his mental powers, is far more resolute in danger, and 
 more cool in every emergency where instant action is required, 
 than the individual who from his powerful configuration never 
 felt fear, until, perhaps, the final one which felled him. The 
 late Dr. Fergusson related to his class how, as a young man, he 
 had been sent for to a case of " placenta prsevia," attended with 
 appalling flooding. The patient was very poor, and every doctor 
 who arrived to aid her, when they saw how matters stood, turned 
 tail and fled ; he followed suit, arid only, as he said, recovered 
 consciousness when he had almost reached the hospital from 
 whence he came. With returning^thought came self-accusation 
 of cowardice, and he determined to return ; he met with difficul- 
 ties in again finding out the street and house, even the name 
 was forgotten, but he faced them all, sought out the danger, met 
 and overcame it. 
 
 If education will do so much to counteract the bad qualities 
 in our nature, it is certain that it may do more to undermine 
 our better propensities. All of us are more apt to be lazy than 
 active, and improvement requires energy ; whilst deteriora- 
 tion comes spontaneously. Example will teach a child to stam- 
 mer or to pilfer, and fright may lay the foundation of incurable 
 brain disease. The parent, teacher, or servant, who cultivates 
 in a child that dread of the unseen which is common to us all, 
 for the sake of gaining personal comfort by terrifying the young 
 into quiescence, may deprive the future adult of all manliness, 
 and make his every year a terror. But as we do do not profess 
 to make any dissertation upon education in general, except in 
 so far as it concerns the physical health of the individual, we 
 will not pursue this train of thought any farther. We will con- 
 sider rather the changes which take place from the period when 
 the boy is first " breeched," as the old saying ran, until his 
 whiskers begin to flourish. 
 
 Throughout the whole of that time the child is growing in 
 length and breadth ; the first set of teeth, with few exceptions, 
 are removed, and the permanent ones appear ; the appetite in- 
 creases, and very frequently seems to the small-eating parents 
 to be a ravenous one, and no wonder, for the father simply takes 
 
68 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 food to keep up a body fully grown, whilst the child has not 
 only to sustain his framework, but to increase its timbers. 
 About this time of life, Nature has implanted in all animals a 
 love of fun, sport, or frolic : the kitten amuses itself by running 
 after its tail or clambering over and around the old cat ; the 
 canine whelp passes its time alternately in tearing at some old 
 bit of leather or any other stray waif or bit of soft material it 
 can find, 'racing in mad circles round its mother, sleeping and 
 eating ; the calf and the foal are no exceptions to the rule ; even 
 the ponderous young elephants and the mis-shapen buffaloes 
 gambol, we are told, like kittens when young. What is natural 
 for animals is natural for man, and one of the first requisites for 
 health in our offspring is a playground. But as the untrained 
 puppy cannot be expected to become a valuable dog unless he 
 be well trained, so it is necessary, if we wish our children to 
 become valuable men, that we must train them too. Now, no 
 master of hounds would even think of teaching a young dog in- 
 cessantly for six hours every day ; and in like manner the 
 schoolmaster ought to be moderate in his apportionment of 
 work. 
 
 There are few things more important to health than the due 
 adjustment of play and learning. The school at which a lad 
 of ten is made to work at his lessons for the same duration of 
 time as a lad of sixteen, ought to be avoided by all parents, un- 
 til their young ones have grown up. 
 
 A boy forced to get up at six o'clock, learn lessons until eight, 
 and then go tlirough a routine of schooling until seven o'clock 
 at night with only an interval of two hours for his meals and 
 recreation, and that too often curtailed by way of punishment, 
 is pretty sure to go to the bad, or else to lose his health. The 
 human mind develops slowly, and if it be forced beyond a cer- 
 tain limit it breaks down, just as does a colt when overdriven. 
 It has long been a question, " What becomes of all the clever 
 children?" and the only answer is, " They become humdrums 
 with nothing in them." " What, on the other hand, becomes of 
 the dunces, those who prefer, and who in spite of punishment 
 continue to indulge in, all sorts of bodily exercise rather than pore 
 over stupid Greek or musty Latin, who are great with horses, dogs, 
 and game, and very small over Algebra and Euclid ?" The re- 
 ply is, that it is they, who as a rule become our great men ; it is 
 such as these who carry the enterprise of England to the 
 uttermost parts of the earth, as soldiers, sailors, engineers, or 
 emigrants. Their office is to bridle Nature, and make her sub- 
 servient to intelligent man. Somebody has remarked that " a 
 spice of the devil " is an element of success in life, and there is 
 some truth in the saying. If, then, a master finds such a spice 
 in any of the lads under his care, it is important that he does 
 
THE CHILD BECOMING MAN. 69 
 
 his best to make the devil a good rather than a lad one. Judi- 
 cious training will make a fiery spirit a valuable man, whilst a 
 faulty management will convert him into a malignant being, 
 great only as a human beast. 
 
 In ou/last paper we pointed out that bodily weakness, such as 
 that which is .produced by rapid growth, deteriorates for a time 
 the mental powers, and so prevents lessons being mastered with 
 the usual facility, even if they can be learned at all. At such 
 periods, we remarked, that it was advisable to give the lad a 
 complete rest from all intellectual study, and to allow him to 
 run wild. If able to play, he will amuse himself with boyish 
 sports, and thus strengthen his frame ; if unable to take much 
 exercise, he will rest and read, and thus lay the foundation of a 
 mental granary, which he may never afterwards be able to 
 exhaust. 
 
 To this it may be objected, that such suspensions of work 
 must necessarily be prejudicial to the future knowledge of the 
 child. Like many other " musts " the observation is musty, and 
 founded on prejudice alone. Experience in many village schools, 
 has taught those who were once red hot upon the education of the 
 poor, that the best-taught boys, those who stand highest in the 
 village schools, are the worst labourers intelligent in figures and 
 amongst books, they are at sea amongst sheep and cows, and in 
 the garden, field, or grove. To counteract this, a plan has been 
 adopted in some localities, for allowing the boys to go for three 
 days a week to learn some occupation, and for three other days 
 to go to school. At first the auguries from this regular irregu- 
 larity were unfavourable ; yet time soon showed not only that 
 lads thus brought up were better labourers, whether skilled or 
 otherwise, than the old bookworms, but positively that they 
 became better scholars than those who were muddled by the 
 daily plodding. Alternate relaxation and work made their 
 minds fresh to receive instruction, whilst the intermittent rest 
 from books gave the knowledge which they had acquired ample 
 time to take root. A boy or man who is constantly learning 
 something new, has no opportunity and very rarely has the in- 
 clination to arrange his knowledge and draw inferences from it ; 
 whilst one who can pause between every new fact discovered, 
 may be able to see more in it than others can. Speaking per- 
 sonally I may say, that whilst I was simply a devourer of books 
 I was quite content to know what was written ; but when sepa- 
 rated entirely from them during seven or eight months, I began 
 to think for myself, to analyse everything which I had already 
 perused, and then for the first time it was apparent to me how 
 vast an amount of chaff and how very little sterling corn there 
 was in the large mass which had to be winnowed. 
 
 I have already repeated more than once that the mind deve- 
 
70 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 / 
 
 lops slowly, and that any attempt to force it prematurely is 
 prejudicial to health ; but though the general process of expan- 
 sion is slow, there are two periods in which a great " start " is 
 made ; the one at what is called " puberty," and the other at or 
 about the age of twenty-two. With the last we have nothing 
 to do : we will rather concentrate our thoughts upon the first. 
 This period is recognised by a change in the voice from a femi- 
 nine to a masculine tone ; but the transition is slow, often last- 
 ing for one or two years, during which the voice is said to be 
 " cracked." At this time certain desires to which the lad was 
 formerly a stranger develop themselves, and if unchecked do 
 serious mischief to the health, and often entirely ruin the consti- 
 tution. The duty both of parents and teachers in the early 
 training of males is one of considerable difficulty as regards per- 
 sonal vice. The father fears to speak of such a matter to his 
 son, lest by telling him of something of which he was before 
 ignorant, he may bring about the mischief which he deprecates ; 
 and he equally fears to avoid speaking, lest his son should ulti- 
 mately reproach him for his silence. Through this ordeal I 
 have had to pass, and elected the first alternative ; though my 
 son was barely eight years old, I found that he had already been 
 told about the matter by his schoolfellows. But I was " in 
 time " to imbue his mind with the serious nature of the prac- 
 tice, and had the satisfaction of knowing, not only that he was 
 himself convinced of its evil, but that he was a leaven amongst 
 his schoolfellows, to prevent them from indulging in deeds whose 
 danger they altogether ignored. It is impossible in the com- 
 pass of a short essay to point out the various methods by which 
 the mind of boys may be influenced in such matters ; but that 
 the attempt ought to be made is certain. I do not believe that 
 there is any one single thing which more materially influences 
 the bodily and mental vigour of the man for good or evil than 
 attention to or disregard of the dawnings of " masculinity." A 
 retention of the natural secretion gives firmness to the muscles, 
 breadth to the chest, power to the brain, and courage to the ani- 
 mal, whilst, on the other hand, a continual expenditure of 
 the vital fluid produces softness of flesh, dulness of mind, hebe- 
 tude in understanding, cowardice in action, effeminacy in man- 
 ner, and contemptibleness in general. The pure chaste youth 
 becomes a man respected amongst his fellows, and admired by 
 the opposite sex ; whilst the solitary impure or vicious lad be- 
 comes as woman without her charms amongst men, or like a 
 wax doll amongst children. 
 
 There is, however, another point in the management of youth 
 to which attention should be called, respecting which I have 
 frequently been consulted viz., the propriety of allowing them 
 to drink beer or other fermented liquors, and the advisability of 
 
THE BOY BECOMING MA.N, 71 
 
 enforcing upon them a strict teetotalism. The current notion is 
 founded upon the old saws which we have discussed, that if a 
 lad drinks ale before he is ten years of age, and wine ere he 
 attains twenty, he will, perforce, become a drunkard ere he 
 arrives at three-score. The idea is not even founded in fact ; it 
 is true that some who are drunkards have begun to be so early 
 in life, but it is certainly not a fact that those who do take 
 beer or wine medicinally in youth, get a liking for it in old age. 
 
 As a general rule, children dislike fermented liquors ; but 
 when they are growing fast, are delicate in constitution, and 
 have poor appetites, they do relish it, as a horse revels in a feed 
 of carrots, or a teetotaller in a savoury pudding. We have else- 
 where stated that beer is to a certain extent equivalent to beef, 
 and that the boy who cannot eat mutton will often dine upon a 
 glass of ale. It is important that this fact should be fully known. 
 There are many boarding-schools in which the food set before 
 the boys is coarse in quality, and so badly dressed that it pro- 
 duces loathing. The idea that all lads have a ravenous appetite 
 and can put up with the same food as would suit a yard-dog is 
 pre-eminently false, and yet it obtains so generally that there 
 are few pedagogues who do not act upon it. If under such cir- 
 cumstances the youth is obliged to drink water as his sole beve- 
 rage, he will starve ; if, on the contrary, parental care allows 
 him a daily modicum of beer, he will contrive to get along with 
 the better food which the breakfast and tea supply. 
 
 I am acquainted with one family whose father, a clergyman, 
 and very sensible in most respects, entertained the belief that 
 the greatest bane to children was indulgence in food and drink. 
 Many a time at his table have I pitied the poor lads who were 
 obliged to be contented with less than half the supply which 
 was given to me for as a guest I was treated well. That family 
 I have watched with the greatest interest to find whether the 
 result would show that the parent's idea was correct. One died 
 in childhood of pure exhaustion ; another, whose talents were 
 undoubted, took an aegrotat degree at Cambridge ; another, 
 whose genius will shortly be recognised by the world, is and 
 has been a frequent sufferer from myalgia ; and the daughters 
 are by no means strong. At the same time, I knew another 
 family who were allowed to follow the dictates of Nature, to eat 
 as much as they required, and to drink as much as they wished, 
 provided they never outstripped the bounds of propriety, which 
 on one or two occasions some of them unquestionably did. 
 These are as healthy a lot in adult age as can be required ; they 
 have not any propensity to exceed either in food or drink, and 
 whilst their friends are suffering from the false philosophy of 
 their father, they are chuckling over the advantages which ac- 
 crue to children whose parents adhere to the dictates of common 
 
72 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 sense rather than the caprices of soi-disant philosophers who 
 mistake their own assumptions for undisputed facts. 
 
 To this we may add a few words about the use of tobacco. 
 There is no doubt, so long as men smoke, that loys will imitate 
 them ; and it is equally certain that Paterfamilias who begins 
 to find a plurality of cigars offend his stomach and interfere 
 with his digestion, will believe that the same effect will happen 
 to his youthful sons. Mamma, perchance, detests the smell re- 
 sulting from meerschaums as much in her husband as in her 
 offspring, and speaks in accordance with her views. But, prac- 
 tically, the philosophic physician has no particular fault to find 
 with tobacco when it is indulged in with moderation. A mother 
 for whom I entertain a high respect, had an aphorism that no 
 one ought to objurgate the use of anything simply because some 
 folks ab-used it. I believe the dictum ; and as there is no medi- 
 cal reason why our sons should not smoke as their fathers have 
 done before them, I believe it to be better to direct the habit 
 rather than to resist it wholly. The proper rule for the use of 
 tobacco, and one which I would wish to inculcate on our adults 
 as upon our youths, is, " Never smoke when by so doing you 
 make yourself disagreeable to others." A young man reeking 
 with cigar- fumes taints all the air of a drawing-room, and he 
 stinks as bad as a drove of pigs do in a street himself ; yet there 
 is many a gentleman who would cry " snob " to an individual 
 allowing a " coachman " redolent with a stable odour to wait at 
 table, who will himself mingle with fair women and diffuse a 
 foctor equally disgusting. 
 
 As the fables which we were taught to read in infancy were 
 always followed by a moral one that we always " skipped " 
 when boys, but which we always have read first, since we were 
 men so we feel disposed to add something of the same kind to 
 our discourse now, in which may be contained the pith and 
 marrow of the preceding paper the text, indeed, which conies 
 after the sermon instead of at its head ; le void : If you wish 
 to preserve the health of your sons, feed them fully, work them 
 progressively, educate them judiciously, and instruct them as to 
 their future carefully. Bern ember that the child will become a 
 boy, the boy a lad, the lad a man, and act accordingly. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE YOUTH BECOMING WOMAN. 
 
 IT is very difficult to discover what are the opinions held by the 
 majority of parents respecting the education of women. It is 
 indeed difficult to form an opinion of our own. The father 
 wishes his daughter to have such accomplishments as shall con- 
 duce to the pleasure and happiness of the domestic circle ; he 
 hopes that in her he may see, once again, the charm which he 
 admired in her mother in the happy days of courtship ; he loves 
 the anticipation of hearing the thrilling notes from the throat of 
 his human bird, and of seeing some lovely picture grow under 
 her deft ringers. He little recks of French, Italian, or " the use 
 of the globes ;" nor unless he wants his daughter to be " the 
 courier " of a continental party, does he care whether she knows 
 a word of German. It is even probable that if he has any per- 
 sonal knowledge of the ordinary style of writing fiction in Paris, 
 he may rejoice that his daughter cannot read the novels which 
 are so popular in modern Gaul. The mother wishes her daugh- 
 ter to be sufficiently charming, to have a chance of attracting 
 some one who may become a suitable partner for life. She has 
 heard of some old saying that women are experienced in making 
 traps to catch men, and according to her own amount of good 
 sense, does she remember or forget that the true version of the 
 " saw " is that women are more clever at making nets than 
 making cages. If she herself has had the good fortune to pos- 
 sess a husband worthy of esteem, she will recognise that one of 
 the aims of education in the young should be to fit her mind 
 for all the various troubles of life which beset the matron, and 
 she hopes that the reasoning faculties of her child will be 
 drawn out, as well as her head crammed with learning. Some 
 mothers think, apparently, when once their daughters have left 
 school, of nothing more than procuring for them an eligible 
 "parti," and to this end the accomplishment of music and 
 dancing are flaunted constantly and cultivated closely, to the 
 exclusion of more solid but less attractive matters. 
 
 Some again who have their daughter's welfare at heart, irre- 
 spective of any settlement in life, rejoice in having their child 
 once again under their own tuition, when they may assist the 
 mind to develop itself, and the judgment to assume a steady 
 form ; when they may sweep away many of the cobwebs of 
 
 G 
 
74 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 romance formed amongst schoolfellows, and teach the girl to 
 look at the world around her from a common sense point of 
 view. Such a mother will teach her daughter all the incidents 
 of housekeeping, point out how much of humdrum there is in 
 -everyday life, and how necessary it is so to manage oneself, that 
 the periods when the whole family unite round the social din- 
 ner and tea table should be cheerful an occurrence scarcely 
 likely if the mother and daughter are as fatigued with their 
 daily duty, as papa and the boys are with their office work. 
 But there are a vast number of parents who never think at all 
 seriously about feminine education, and content themselves 
 with sending their daughter to an " academy " highly recom- 
 mended by some friend in whose judgment they have confi- 
 dence. Knowing that ladies' boarding schools are expensive 
 luxuries, they prepare themselves to pay annually a good round 
 sum, that is to include everything which the Misses Bongout 
 teach, ladies who warrant themselves to turn out an accomplished 
 young lady, who shall be everything that papa can expect. 
 
 When once at school the girl rinds herself under tuition from 
 early morning till bedtime comes round. Her head has to be 
 crammed with rhetoric, composition, the elements of astronomy, 
 geology, geometry, geography, history, and chronology. She 
 must learn to forget her own language and speak and think in 
 French. She must plod over German, commit the Italian 
 tongue to memory, and have at her finger ends the theory of 
 music ; and for one or more hours daily she must sit on a stool 
 and practice her scales, &c., on the piano or harp, and as certain 
 days come round she must sit at her drawing lesson, or undergo 
 exercise at gymnastics, or as they are usually called, calisthe- 
 nics, and once in the day she is led out to walk with her com- 
 panions in stately parade. Throughout the livelong day keen 
 eyes are upon her movements, romping is not allowed because 
 it is unladylike, the tired back is always to be kept upright, 
 lolling is not permitted, and should there be any deformity ap- 
 parent, a backboard is ordered for use instead of an easy chair. 
 Fun is mostly repressed, and a hearty laugh that loud guffaw 
 which both in men and boys relieves the tension of an over- 
 taxed brain, is punished with a bad mark or some other of 
 those ingenious contrivances for punishment which ladies adopt 
 amongst themselves. 
 
 There are few who have experienced the relief afforded by a 
 hearty laugh when all the fibres of the mind are upon the ex- 
 tremest stretch, who do not feel the privation of not indulging 
 in it. We have been in court during a heavy trial for murder, 
 in which every tittle of evidence has been weighed with a cau- 
 tion amounting to a punishment. As man by man enters the 
 witness-box the interest of the drama becomes deeper, until 
 
THE YOUTH BECOMING WOMAN. 75"- 
 
 those most concerned can scarcely draw their breath. At this 
 period we have often heard some absurd remark made by a 
 rustic convulse every one with uproarious laughter, in which 
 even the prisoner has joined. The prudish may censure such 
 an occurrence, for they probably have never lelt the depth of 
 anxiety which is requisite before such a thing can happen. 
 
 Well now what is the result of all this education on the gene- 
 rality of young women why their health is broken, their minds 
 are almost a blank, and their conversation is as empty as their 
 brains are supposed to be full. A woman of strong good sense 
 told me as her own personal experience, that the period of her 
 life from twelve to fourteen, was the most unhappy she had 
 spent, she was always ailing yet obliged to go on with her school 
 work, and of the whole of what she had learned during that 
 time she was totally oblivious. 
 
 As a doctor and lecturer on medicine, I know that there were 
 special sets of maladies made up for the benefit of young ladies, 
 all of whom were supposed to be fond of sympathy, foolish in. 
 mind silly in habits to have their heads always full of mar- 
 riage, and yet with all this to have a constitution which nothing 
 could injure. If a girl had a pain in her side it was " hysteria," 
 if the suffering was along the spine and the tenderness of the 
 surface was so great that a touch was exquisitely painful, it was 
 only " hysteria." If there was headache it was " hysterical," and if 
 vomiting was common it was " hysterical " too. If the anxious 
 parent cross-examined the doctor what " hysteria " was, his reply 
 in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred would be, that it was a 
 name given by doctors to imaginary ailments which were put 
 on or taken off as easily as a glove, that they were feigned 
 so as to demand sympathy, that sympathy always made 
 matters worse, that the patients ought to be treated roughly like 
 naughty children, and perhaps it was added that marriage would 
 set them all right again. If the medico was cross-examined as 
 to what he meant by saying that pain was imaginary, his 
 answer was that it was not altogether so, but it was " hysterical 
 pain a pain you know which becomes worse by being thought 
 about and which can be made to go away by paying no attention 
 to it." In other words it was a fundamental belief amongst the 
 doctors that no young unmarried lady who complained of 
 certain pains was to be credited even upon oath. This idea is 
 still current amongst some who are in practice in great London, 
 for I have positively been told by a hospital physician of good 
 standing in that metropolis, that to believe the statements made 
 to me by young women, was to neglect one of the first principles 
 of diagnosis ! ! 
 
 Instead of having recourse to such a shameful means of 
 accounting for the frequency of suffering amongst young females, 
 
76 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 let us take a common sense view of the matter, and follow them 
 through their daily routine up at six or seven, they have to 
 leave their beds ere they have sufficiently rested from the 
 fatigues of yesterday ; after sitting upright and studying, they 
 have for breakfast a cup or two of washy tea, and two, perhaps 
 three, moderate slices of bread and butter, for to eat much is 
 " so very boorish ;" again they have to sit or stand with back 
 erect till dinner time, when fat mutton and water or beer largely 
 diluted from the fountain, and a bit of pudding is their lot, for 
 " a large appetite is unladylike." few like fat mutton or beef, 
 but "young ladies must not be saucy," they have Hobson's choice, 
 that or none, they elect the last and go to tlie afternoon's work 
 on an ascetic repast of bread and water; at tea; they again- enjoy 
 a meal of. water bewitched, and two slices from the loa/ thinly 
 spread with butter ; they then go off to lessons again, have a 
 dance to warm their feet and goto bed; but not perhaps to ; 
 sleep, being unable to do so from hunger and excitement -until it 
 is time to get up again. 
 
 This picture is not overdrawn as respects some schools. 
 of high class, it is overdrawn for some others in which 
 the dietary is everything which the most rigid doctor could re- 
 quire. But if a girl is growing and has her body and mind both 
 overtaxed, she loses " heart," " spirit," and appetite, and being 
 unable to replenish her wasted energies by food, she gradually 
 becomes weaker and weaker, until the exertion of sitting upright 
 is too much for her muscles to bear, and they become the seats 
 of pain as severe as that of tic-doloureux, a pain which, as it 
 comes on by exertion, is relieved by rest. The old medico who 
 found that a few days in bed cured intense suffering, which 
 came on again as soon as work was resumed, might naturally 
 imagine that the pain was feigned, so that sympathy might be 
 excited, and a holiday obtained. . The modern physician, on the 
 other hand, recognises the fact that the work done is too great 
 for the power which. the individual possesses to execute it, and 
 he does his best to adjust the one to the other. School girls 
 are generally a delicate set, simply because they are far more 
 overworked for their strength than boys. Let us sketch the 
 difference as best we may. 
 
 A boy romps and laughs, plays at athletic games, whips tops, 
 runs races, climbs trees, leaps and jumps, and exercises all his 
 muscles in turn. He lolls in his chair, and assumes any atti- 
 tude he pleases at his desk. He has, from his games, a sufficient 
 appetite to eat heartily, and out of school hours he feels under 
 no restraint. The girl, on the contrary, never romps, runs races, 
 whips tops, &c. She only sits upright and walks, thus deve- 
 loping, and sometimes all but destroying, only one set of 
 muscles. She cannot shake off for a moment the feeling of 
 
THE YOUTH BECOMING WOMAN. 77 
 
 constraint, and she naturally loses appetite, becomes languid, 
 faint, and low. The boy comes into rude contact with those 
 above, below, and around *him. He has to endure " chaffing," 
 to learn to " hold his own," to fight if need be. Even in his 
 games his mind has to be active. He has to think about the 
 most judicious way of fielding when Tom is at the wickets, or 
 for looking out when Dick kicks the football. This developes 
 his intellect, and teaches him his place in his own world. The 
 girl, on the contrary, is so hedged in with protection, that she 
 has no power of her own, and she cannot learn life, for the book 
 is kept closed to her. 
 
 Let us at this moment pause awhile, for memory recals to 
 our mind 'the name and nature of many a blooming woman 
 whom we have admired for their loveliness, their good sense, 
 their genuine worth, and speaking professionally, for their tho- 
 rough healthful ness. How have they been brought up ? Why 
 almost invariably in the country, living with their brothers, and 
 sharing their sports in a feminine way riding or walking, irre- 
 spective of dirty lanes; boating, playing bowls, or croquet, 
 swinging, lolling under the greenwood tree, eating as much as 
 they liked, and only under restraint during the period when 
 they were with Miss Tuteur or Professor Guitarro. They have 
 had, perhaps, a single year at a finishing school to enable them 
 to break off naturally a few objectionable habits, and to part 
 with a few undesirable acquaintances, and to pass with ease 
 from the girl to the woman. When such an one leaves school 
 she does not think of it as a place of punishment to be avoided. 
 She has most probably acquired a fondness for her music or 
 painting, or found sufficient interest in German or Italian to 
 continue- its study. Her mind with its healthy tone unspoiled 
 by the incessant worry of school, seeks for occupation rather 
 than for inglorious repose. To such an one brothers will tell 
 their little adventures, and whether she have beauty of face or 
 elegance of form, or be in reality somewhat 'plain, she is voted 
 " a brick," and as such takes an honoured place in the* domestic 
 architecture. 
 
 The conclusion to be drawn from the foregoing remarks is 
 inevitable, viz., that if we wish to preserve the health of our 
 daughters we must not overwork them. The horseman does 
 not put a filly to labour at a period when he would allow her 
 brother, of the same age, to be idle in the field. If we insist on 
 our daughters learning double the number of subjects that their 
 brothers do, and in the same time, we are certain to impair 
 their health, and no amount of doctoring will prevent the catas- 
 trophe. It is all nonsense to imagine that beauty of face and 
 elegance of figure depends upon " deportment " being taught at 
 school. Those who believe such trash can never have read in 
 
78 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 Cook's voyages and those of other men of the graceful charms 
 of the " savage " women of Owhyee or have read the pretty 
 couplet in which Scott describes his charming " Lady of the 
 Lake " 
 
 And ne'er did Grecian chisel trace 
 A nymph, a naiad, or a grace, 
 Of finer form or lovelier face. 
 
 What though, no rule of courtly grace 
 
 To measured mood had trained her pace ; 
 
 A foot more light, a step more true, 
 
 Ne'er from the heath-flower dashed the dew, &c. 
 
 The real fact is that Nature makes far more women lovely 
 than does Art the latter indeed spoils too often the intentions 
 of the former. Increasing age and strength will do far more to 
 make an ungainly figure comely than attention to backboards 
 or a sickening course of dumb-bells. I presume that some men 
 are supposed to be well made and handsome. This certainly is 
 not the result of instructions in calisthenics. 
 
 Amongst all the preceding observations we have not made 
 any reference to the physical changes which announce that 
 the girl has at length become a young woman. As in the 
 decline of life many a symptom is attributed to the cessation of 
 the catamenia, which have nothing whatever to do with it, so 
 before the ordinary flow is established, there are a number of 
 ailments attributed to its approach which are wholly unconnected 
 therewith. The period of life at which the change occurs varies 
 from eleven to fifteen, and is sometimes both earlier and later, 
 under exceptional circumstances. Now this is the very period 
 during which growth is always the most active, and education 
 the most strongly pressed forward. To a girl in good health 
 generally, there is no more necessity for provision at this time of 
 life than there is for a boy of course, I am not now speaking 
 morally. The change is established both in the one and in the 
 other as a matter of course, and mamma's assistance to the 
 female is required far more than that of the physician. 
 
 But when once the change has occurred it is important for 
 the woman to know that it does affect her condition whenever 
 the amount is such as to diminish seriously the amount of blood 
 in the body. If a school-girl has great difficulty to get through 
 her daily toil when all her strength is unimpared, she certainly 
 will not get through it better when her powers are seriously 
 impaired, once and sometimes even twice a month, and, as a 
 rule, it is well to understand that debility of constitution in- 
 creases the amount lost, both as regards the severity of the flow, 
 its duration and the frequency of its recurrence. No one who 
 wishes a horse to keep in good condition for work would bleed 
 
THE YOUTH BECOMING WOMAN. 79 
 
 him every day for a se'nnight, with only an interval of two, 
 three, or four weeks between the operation, neither if the blood 
 were lost spontaneously would his master work him so hard 
 during that period as at other times. Nor should a girl be 
 treated differently. 
 
 There is one matter, however, about the youthful period of 
 life in women which requires much attention and particular 
 care viz., the condition of the bowels. So long as the school 
 girl lives a natural life, and only as it were attends to her edu- 
 cation episodically when she runs wild during her hours of 
 idleness, eats and drinks naturally, all the functions of the body 
 are carried on with regularity ; but when the child is doomed 
 to an eternal round of "lessons," to live on tea, and bread- 
 and-butter, or a moderate slice of beef or mutton, the constant 
 sitting produces an amount of constipation which is, with diffi- 
 culty, overcome. * To administer medicines usually makes 
 matters worse ; to let things take their course, often eventuates 
 in serious mischief, and there is great judgment required in 
 balancing between too much and too little interference. When 
 such a state of matters has to be met, it is always desirable to 
 attempt to rectify it by diet, or by the use of such mild aperients 
 as Cheltenham water, or a weak solution of artificial salts. 
 Upon matters of this kind, however, it is more desirable to 
 have medical advice, than to endeavour to be one's own doctor. 
 These essays do not profess in the smallest degree to make the 
 sickly well, or to promote cure when any disease is present. 
 They are simply intended to warn readers against those habits, 
 customs, or mistaken ideas which directly tend to the impair- 
 ment of health. 
 
 The moral of this essay can be readily deduced : It is, that we 
 should treat our daughters as if they were reasonable beings, or 
 as if they were expected to become so ; we should think of their 
 health and happiness, rather than the amount which we have 
 to pay to masters when the bills come in ; and should educate 
 them rather with the hope that they may gladden our own 
 fireside, than flit away to another. Even in a worldly point of 
 view, this plan is better than that which makes a young woman 
 a man-trap. Those who seek for wives, prefer to choose amongst 
 the good daughters, rather than amongst the " gad-abouts," every 
 man believing that a good sister and a good daughter is certain 
 to be a good wife ; and as he selects a partner for his own com- 
 fort, rathe*r than for the benefit of his friends, he will naturally 
 prefer one who has the virtues which will adorn the home, rather 
 than the flashiness which captivates in the ball-room. 
 
CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 THE USE OF BATHS. 
 
 THERE are few adages more frequently at the tongue's end of 
 the lady visitor, when she finds herself amongst the squalid dens 
 of poverty, than that " Cleanliness is next to Godliness." She 
 sees that filth is ever the accompaniment of drunkenness and 
 vice, and that a woman who can tolerate a dirty floor in her 
 dwelling, and a dirty face on her shoulders, is generally a slat- 
 tern in mind as much as in body, and quite unable to see any 
 virtue in thrift, or any advantage in going to a place of worship. 
 On the other hand, the same lady notices that the tidy house- 
 wife is generally a good specimen of her class attentive to her 
 religious duties, and anxious to be a loving wife and a tender 
 mother she recognises water as a valuable luxury, and agree- 
 ing with the visitor as to its powers of cleansing away physical 
 filth, they naturally conclude that it must have some great in- 
 fluence in promoting spiritual virtues, hence the adage attains 
 almost to the position of a sacred truth. But the generalisa- 
 tion, though it may be true to a certain extent, is practically of 
 no value, as we shall see from a very short consideration. We 
 turn our eyes, in the first place, to such islands as Hawaii, or 
 certain others, in the warm regions of the vast Pacific Ocean, 
 and find there an amount of cleanliness and bathing which few 
 in smoky England can attain to, and yet there are under those 
 pure brown skins, which are unsullied by the least bit of 
 " grime," hearts as black, and sins as deadly, as are to be found 
 in the darkest purlieus of Birmingham. We look again to 
 India, where the washing and bathing are almost incessant, and 
 there we see equally a mass of vice which is to the full as great 
 as that which is common amongst ourselves. If we examine 
 the history of the rat an animal in whom cleanliness, amidst the 
 most difficult circumstances, is a well-known virtue we find 
 that his love of this Christian habit does not prevent him being 
 fierce in fight and cannibal in propensity. Woe to his brother, 
 sister, or friend, who becomes diseased ! For him the shrift is 
 short, and the funeral rapid, for he is eaten up at once, lest by 
 the decomposition of the corpse the dwelling should be made 
 unclean. Of all the ancient nations whose customs have come 
 down to us in their writings, the Jews stand preminent for their 
 cleanliness, and yet none can say, that as a nation, they were 
 
THE USE OF BATHS. 81 
 
 ( 
 
 superior, in a Godly point of view, to all others which have 
 existed. 
 
 The simple fact seems to be, that in England, where coal- 
 smoke abounds everywhere even at a distance from large 
 towns, every individual receives a sooty covering, which offends 
 the careful eye. The lovely complexion of the child cannot be 
 seen to advantage when it is concealed by a thin film of dirt, 
 nor can the beauty hope to be admired whose face and linen 
 are alike grimy. With us, then, a want of washing is equiva- 
 lent to harbouring dirt, and harbouring dirt becomes an evidence 
 of inattention to the exigencies of society. The woman who 
 won't wash her face and. take her hair out of curl ere she comes 
 into contact with her fellows, is estimated by men as being in- 
 dolent in mind as she is slatternly in person, and since reasonable 
 beings prefer to have a tidy woman rather than a slut for a wife, 
 her chances are small in the matrimonial market. In large 
 towns, the difficulty of getting water for all purposes, is often 
 considerable, and in them cleanliness cannot be attained with- 
 out considerable sacrifices. When, therefore, in "the worst 
 localities, such neatness as the visitor admires is to be met 
 with, it argues great strength of individual character, and such 
 as is generally associated with a powerful sense of duty. 
 
 But when the individual is living in a smokeless air, like 
 that of France, Italy, and other countries, where wood fires 
 (and not very many even of those) alone are burned, there is 
 no smoke to taint the skin, and consequently, no necessity for a 
 frequent wash. The denizens of Switzerland, and many another 
 country, have been held up to ridicule by British tourists, on 
 account of the small provision made in their hotels and houses 
 for a thorough morning's wash. The sturdy Briton wonders how 
 the simple folk can exist without a matutinal scrubbing, and 
 some go so far as to estimate a nation's worth by the amount of 
 soap which it consumes. The inhabitants of the pure-aired 
 country, on the other hand, and quite as rationally, estimate a 
 nation's filthiness by the amount of water which they require, 
 and the quantity of soap which is wanted as an abstergent. 
 Tested by this, the English have the character of being the 
 dirtiest nation under the sun, and they richly deserve it. None 
 do more to poison the air with the products of combustion and 
 various manufactured smells. Even the lovely mountains of 
 Cumberland are tainted with the smoke of Manchester and 
 other northern towns, and on many occasions I have seen the 
 water on some western bay in Lake Windermere coated with a 
 compact layer of unmistakable soot, which had been borne on 
 the wings of the wind from far distant factory, or other chim- 
 neys. 
 
 Where it is an exigency, for appearance sake, that clean- 
 
 H 
 
82 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 liness should be cultivated, it is very natural that those who 
 are so prudishly disposed as we, speaking nationally, unques- 
 tionably are, should try and find some other reason for culti- 
 vating a freedom from dirt, than personal vanity and the desire 
 to be as pleasing as we can. Hence, we have adopted the for- 
 mula, that " Cleanliness is next to Godliness," and is absolutely 
 necessary to health. Hence, w T e have long tirades about the folly 
 of allowing the pores* of the skin to be choked up with dirt, or 
 stopped up by their own secretions. We point triumphantly to 
 Greeks and Romans, and their constant use of baths ; we look 
 with complacency on the wondrous remains still extant in 
 Eome, of the vast establishments of Domitian and Caracalla, 
 and the great number of marble baths found in the remains of 
 private villas, but we forget to examine whether the nations 
 who used them so prodigally were a healthy lot, and whether 
 the average age at death was superior, or even equal, to our 
 own, and whether godliness characterised them. 
 
 It is almost impossible, while staying in the " eternal city," 
 for the mind not to be attracted to the difference between 
 the past and the present, and to institute, as far as possible, an 
 inquiry as to the results of the ancient prodigal bathing, and 
 the modern non-bathing system. So far as I could detect, the 
 advantage was wholly in favour of the latter. I examined every 
 old tombstone, to find out the average age at death, and the fre- 
 quency or otherwise of death at an advanced age ; but the 
 oldest age recorded was fifty-six, and the majority died ere they 
 had reached thirty. In modern Eome, on the contrary, longevity 
 is common, and the average duration of life little less than in 
 England. Again, there are certain monkish fraternities, who, 
 in the admiration of asceticism, abjure the use of water ex- 
 ternally, and if dirtiness of person is prejudicial to health, 
 these ought to be particularly delicate yet the reverse is gene- 
 rally the case. Nor is it to be wandered at, for the pig who 
 seems to revel in filth, is to the full as healthy and vigorous as 
 the fine lady who devotes an hour a day to her ablutions. 
 
 There can be no reasonable doubt that the use of water as 
 a healthful agent has been praised far beyond its deserts, and 
 from this very cause it has been by some decried. The lad upon 
 whom a stern parent inflicts a daily sponge bath of cold water 
 no matter what the suffering inflicted by the cold and sub- 
 sequent " towelling " under the impression that it is good for 
 the health, is very apt, when accident relieves him from the 
 matutinal punishment, to examine whether he is any worse for 
 the omission, and finding that no bad result can be discovered, 
 he will be pretty certain to give the morning misery " a wide 
 berth " as soon as he becomes his own master. The philosopher, 
 however, is not contented with such pendulurn-like reason- 
 
THE USE OF BATHS. 83 
 
 ing, which is now high up on one side, and now on the other 
 side of the perpendicular, and he wishes to ascertain what 
 amount of good there really is to be met with in the use of 
 water externally, in baths and bathing generally. 
 
 He very soon recognises that bathing is a luxury. If he be 
 a traveller, he knows what it is to stand on the brink of a mass 
 of water himself covered with dust and to plunge into the 
 attractive fluid, and roll, dive, or otherwise disport himself in it. 
 He knows how delicious is the sensation of freedom from the 
 gritty dust, or the dirty powder of the high road his limbs 
 feel easy, and there is a sensation of lightness where none 
 existed before. Sometimes he may see on a hot day a bevy of 
 fair girls, attired only with some light chemise or dress, sitting 
 up to their necks in a shady pool, or again, a lot of active boys 
 bathing on a summer's day, without a rag to restrain their 
 movements, and seeming to enjoy their freedom from the re- 
 straint of civilized life, as well as the coolness of the water. 
 He knows, too, the luxury of a hot bath after a day's incessant 
 toil the exquisite pleasure of gliding down beneath the surface, 
 till every hair upon the head enjoys a separate existence, and 
 can be felt in pleasing movement as the water surges round it. 
 Bed is pleasant to the tired traveller, but if his limbs ache, and 
 his skin is sore, the pressure of the clothes is painful. In the 
 bath the body sustains itself it has lost its weight ; the arm 
 can sway almost without an effort, and all movement becomes 
 luxuriously easy. There are those, again, who know the life- 
 giving sensation imparted by a shower-bath. After a heavy 
 sleep it may be, which has scarcely served to efface the effects 
 of yesterday's toil, the inexorable alarum, or the housemaid's 
 knock, awakes us once again to the round of our daily labour. 
 Mechanically we rise, and stagger to our feet and pass on 
 moodily to the prison-looking chamber which encloses our bath, 
 We then unrobe, step lightly, but valiantly, into the cold closet, 
 and pull the string with desperation, and shiver viciously as 
 the heavy shower patters on our head and shoulders. Doggedly 
 we wait till the end, for as Britons, we scorn to run away from 
 the annoyance we have created for ourselves and when the 
 drops begin to patter slowly, off we spring, rub ourselves viva- 
 ciously, hurry into our clothes, and then, for the first time in 
 the day, feel the proud sensation that we have done our duty 
 nobly, and have reaped an adequate result. 
 
 As a luxury we allow to bathing its full value, but the esti- 
 mate does not help us to its curative powers unless we assume 
 that whatever is delicious to the feelings must be good for the 
 constitution a postulate which few would grant. 
 
 To ascertain philosophically the sanitary importance of baths, 
 it will be well for us to examine into the nature of the skin, 
 
84 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 This, as we all know, covers our bodies, and is liable to certain 
 changes ; in some it seems habitually dry, in others it is con- 
 tinually moist ; some parts there are which perspire far more 
 than others, and some which occasionally produce a secretion of 
 peculiar smell. Naturally, the skin, like the hair and nails, is 
 perpetually growing from below, and as the new material is 
 formed the old material passes away by friction with the 
 clothes. Many are doubtless familiar with the . scales which 
 fall from the skin after scarlet fever, erysipelas, and other cuta- 
 neous inflammations, but fail to notice that a similar desquama- 
 tioii is constantly going on, though in a less degree. In the 
 substance of the skin are an innumerable number of sweat- 
 glands, whose secretion we can no more arrest than we can stop 
 the growth of a seed by putting a stone just over it when first 
 it emerges to the light ; and amongst them there is also a vast 
 number of hair follicles, every one of which is provided with 
 two glands for the secretion of oil. Hence we deduce that 
 Providence has so constructed our bodies, that they shall always 
 be coated with a thin layer of oleaginous matter. This mate- 
 rial is necessarily removed by washing, and consequently ablu- 
 tion is generally followed for a time by a sensation of dryiiess 
 or want of suppleness, which continues until perspiration ensues. 
 This dry sensation may be at once relieved by anointing the 
 skin with oil ; and no sooner is this fact ascertained, than we 
 remember with interest that the use of oil in hot countries is 
 always conjoined with that of baths. We recal with pleasure 
 the touching scene of the Saviour's feet washed by tears, dried 
 by hair, and then anointed by a precious unguent. We see it 
 used almost as a reproach that the head of the Lord was not 
 anointed by the host, and the busy memory depicts an instance 
 in which the virtue of brotherly unity is compared to the pre- 
 cious oil which anointed Aaron's beard and went down to the 
 skirts of his clothing. The traveller will readily remember one 
 of the rooms he has visited in the bathing establishment of old 
 Pompeii, in which were recesses in the wall wherein the bathers 
 used to deposit their pots of ointment, a portion of which was 
 used by all ere they donned their clothes and revisited the out- 
 side world. It may be, that he will then think over the curious 
 experience of life in Abyssinia given to English readers by 
 Mansfeld Parkyns, who relates that his most comfortable hunt- 
 ing and travelling suit in that hot climate was a simple girdle 
 round his loins, and a big pat of butter on his head, which 
 slowly melted and covered him with pleasant grease. The 
 physiologist then recals the fact that the natives of hot coun- 
 tries generally, and certainly that negroes have a skin unusually 
 abounding with oil glands, and which is always covered with a 
 shining coat. We then recal still further that during the 
 
THE USE OF BATHS. 85 
 
 various epidemics of plague which have afflicted the districts 
 about tbe Mediterranean, those only, as a class, escape the in- 
 fliction whose skins are habitually covered, and their clothes 
 generally saturated with oil. 
 
 Hence the philosopher draws the conclusion that the sys- 
 tematic abstergence of oily matter from the skin, which is 
 inseparable from the prevalent habits of bathing, is a contra- 
 vention of the laws of Nature. But the answer to this remark 
 will be that the contravention must be unimportant, since no 
 ill effects have ever arisen. This is, however, a mistake, for I 
 have repeatedly known cutaneous eruptions produced, and, when 
 present, aggravated, by the use of a bath when the weather has 
 been hot, and the individual has been perspiring ; and, on the 
 other hand, I have known sufferers from these grave maladies 
 to be greatly relieved by the disuse of water and the employ- 
 ment of some artificial greasy covering for the skin. 
 
 Having thus given some important information upon the 
 subject of baths in general, we may proceed to speak of parti- 
 cular forms and their special uses, when they have any : premis- 
 ing that we do not intend to enter upon their use as agents in 
 the cure of disease. We may for convenience divide what we 
 have to say into remarks upon the plunge bath, the hot bath, 
 the shower bath, and the sponge bath. 
 
 The plunge bath may be cold or hot, fresh water or salt, 
 under the canopy of heaven, in a river, or in the sea. If in- 
 dulged in beneath the roof of some town establishment, the 
 plunge bath is little more than an arena for athletic develop- 
 ment ; . in it the youth can develop muscles which he never 
 thinks of using in the gymnasium. He learns endurance under 
 different circumstances, and sometimes he may even carry his 
 muscular exertions so far as to bring on sickness or faintness. 
 If, on the other hand, the plunge bath is the flowing river or 
 the briny ocean, the athlete rejoices in pure air and freedom 
 from town influences, as well as in the exercise of his limbs ; 
 and often, it must be owned, that the clear genial atmosphere 
 gets no credit for that renovated health which is attributed to 
 dipping in the sea. As a prolonged city life has a tendency to 
 deteriorate the health, so it is certain that country air has a 
 tendency to restore the faded strength, and it will do so whether 
 baths are resorted to or not. 
 
 In the preservation of health the hot bath is a great luxury, 
 and no more. It removes the aches and pains of excessive 
 fatigue, relieves the sense of annoyance produced by clouds of 
 dust on a windy day, or " kicked up " by the horses of a travel- 
 ling carriage. It restores heat to the starved one who has per- 
 haps been on volunteer or other duty during the inclement 
 weather so common in our English climate. Where ladies, 
 
86 THE PRESEEVATION OP HEALTH. 
 
 men, or children are troubled with an excessive amount of 
 " scurf" in the hair, there is no more effectual cure than a daily 
 hot bath, in which the individual may sit with the hair wholly 
 immersed, and can make it float about like seaweed in a tide- 
 way. For those whose circulation is languid the hot bath is 
 an especial luxury ; if they stand before a roaring fire they feel 
 that one half is being frozen while the other is roasting ; but to 
 lie in water heated to 104 deg., with all submerged except the 
 eyes and nose and mouth, is to take in heat on all sides at once, 
 and to enable the individual to defy cold for many an hour. 
 Yet the luxury is too great an one for all to enjoy, and we have 
 known it to produce such faintness as would have caused death 
 by drowning had not assistance been at hand. This danger 
 seems to threaten females more than men ; it is therefore de- 
 sirable that women should have a bath-attendant with them 
 until they understand their own powers of endurance. 
 
 The shower bath is a rare expedient for sweeping those cob- 
 webs from the eyes and the mind which Morpheus weaves 
 whilst we sleep. The tired author leaves his pen perchance at 
 an advanced hour of the night or morning, and after a period of 
 tossing about, falls into a heavy slumber, only to awake again 
 half rested, at the inexorable alarum, and to find that he is not 
 in trim for another day's toil. One touch, however, to the 
 magic cord, one wholesome shower on his muddled head, and he 
 is himself again, fit for his work, and nerved for any task. 
 What the shower bath does for him it will do for the over- 
 wrought woman ; toil, undue exertion of body or heavy trials of 
 the mind, possibly all combined, lead her to feel " unstrung " 
 like a piano out of tune. She is conscious that she does not 
 respond to the touch in a proper note perhaps she fears that 
 her weakness will constrain her to lose her self-control and be- 
 come hysterical. To her the daily shower bath will impart a 
 sensible amount of strength, the jarring chords will be restrung, 
 and the descending water will almost literally " bring spirits 
 from the vasty deep." 
 
 A sponge bath seems to me an ingenious contrivance for 
 making some people miserable. On one occasion being tired of 
 reading that it was an essential to health, and having, too, some 
 friends who assured me that it was a panacea for every ill, and 
 who in their zeal to improve my constitution, which did not 
 require such aid, endeavoured to " ding " its use into me, I de- 
 termined to test the matter anew. During my youth I had 
 endured much misery from it, each day for many years being 
 begun by the hateful infliction ; but my energetic advisers in- 
 formed me that now, when years of maturity had arrived, 
 I should thoroughly enjoy a glorious sponge bath, or what the 
 Oxford men call " doing tubs." Well, I began on the hottest 
 
THE USE OF BATHS. 87 
 
 day of summer, and was painfully starved until my avocations 
 permitted me to walk on the sunny side of a street, or bask in 
 the sunshine indoors. This daily infliction I bore as manfully 
 as I could until the winter, at which period I gave up the ex- 
 periment, not desiring either to write myself down as fool or 
 ass. The sole consolation received from my enthusiastic friends 
 was the remark, " ah, it is clear that the sponge bath does not 
 suit you," a conclusion which I soon expanded into the obser- 
 vation, that there were very few which it did suit, and that 
 those who enjoyed it derived no benefit from it except as a 
 means of awaking them thoroughly. Some there are whose 
 temperaments are so fiery that they may require to blow off 
 steam by evaporating daily some half pint of water from their 
 naked skins. Such I can well imagine as rejoicing in a cold 
 sponging, but those of ordinary mould will find more comfort in 
 heat than in iciness, and rejoice more in dressing in a cozy room 
 before a comfortable fire, than going from a warm bed to a 
 frigid bath in a chilly closet. 
 
 After years, of as close observation as I have been enabled to 
 make, the conclusion I have arrived at is, that baths and bath- 
 ing are not essential to health, that it is even doubtful whether 
 they really conduce to it, but that to many they are positive 
 luxuries, whilst in one form or other they are pleasant to the 
 majority. That of the two, warm or tepid bathing is more 
 comfortable and less dangerous than cold bathing, and that cold 
 bathing is always injurious when it is not followed by a " glow." 
 Even when this occurs, the glow is rather the sign of an active 
 circulation, and an evidence of a certain amount of health already 
 existent, than an increment to be added to the future supply. 
 In medical practice there is no doubt that baths have a decided 
 influence in restoring health ; but there is great difference be- 
 tween this and their influence in preventing disease. When- 
 ever, therefore, my opinion is asked about the use of water to 
 the skin, my almost invariable reply is, " if you enjoy baths, use 
 them as luxuries ; if you dislike them you cannot indulge your- 
 self by adopting them, and it is certainly not advisable to make 
 yourself more miserable than Nature intended that you should 
 be." Few Englishmen would eat whale's blubber or walrus 
 flesh because the Esquimaux consider it conducive to health 
 and almost necessary to life. Nor can I see any reason why 
 Tom should do something which is distasteful to himself be- 
 cause Dick and Harry enjoy it. 
 
CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 ON THE VALUE OF EXERCISE. 
 
 THEEE probably is not an individual who tenders advice gratis 
 to his or her friend, without having gone through the exercises 
 necessary to the qualification of giving medical recommenda- 
 tions, who does not consider that it is " a law " that exercise 
 and plenty of it, is indispensable to health. There is, indeed, 
 scarcely a single doctor who does not believe the same thing, 
 and who does not make exercise a sine qud non foi the restora- 
 tion or conservation of a sound body. So completely has this 
 axiom been adopted, that to many the attempt will seem as 
 Quixotic to shake the universal belief, as it was in the knight to 
 tilt at the windmill. We shall, however, endeavour to modify, 
 if not to upset, the dogma, and to demonstrate that the propo- 
 sition that exercise is essential to health is not strictly true. 
 
 On the very threshold of our inquiry we find ourselves ob- 
 liged to have recourse to definitions, and to lay down clearly 
 what we mean by " exercise," or what is meant by others when 
 they use the word ; and we must equally form to ourselves an 
 idea what is meant by the word "health" in connection with 
 exercise. It is very probable that not one of my readers has 
 ever thought, up to the present moment, of the signification 
 which he assigns to the words in questions and has only a hazy 
 idea of what is signified by either. The energetic professor 
 in a London hospital will think of " health " as signifying the 
 power to work with his brain incessantly, yet to have capacity 
 for the enjoyment of food, of sleep, and of the social amenities 
 of life. He looks upon " exercise " as signifying an excursion 
 to the summit of the Matterhorn or Monte Eosa. The univer- 
 sity student considers that "health" is power to think as a 
 man, while he is yet little more than a boy, to cram his head 
 with learning and his stomach with an unlimited amount of 
 bitter beer or strong port wine, to indulge in tobacco of the 
 strongest kind, and to go through all the episodes of fast life, 
 and yet retain a gcod appetite for " commons," and a clear in- 
 tellect for mathematics. To him " exercise " means labour at 
 the oar for hours, and toil equivalent to, if not greater, than that 
 of the treadmill. The philosopher in his study would probably 
 describe " health " as the condition of body in which the mind 
 can flourish, without being called away to the condition of the 
 
ON THE VALUE OF EXERCISE. 89' 
 
 tenement whiqh it inhabits, and his idea of " exercise " would 
 probably be bounded by a contemplative saunter in the garden, 
 during which the brain might digest the meals with which it 
 had been gorged. 
 
 Now we consider that the idea of the philosopher is much 
 closer to the truth than any other. The dictionary defines 
 health to signify " freedom from bodily pain or sickness," and 
 this is practically what we mean by it. We use the word to 
 signify that condition of the tenement of the soul which does 
 not require repairs of any kind. To any one who accepts this 
 definition it must be perfectly clear that the standard of health 
 is individual, not generic. Just as some houses are so strongly 
 built that they can bear the shock, even of an earthquake, with- 
 out falling down, whilst others are so frail that a heavy gale of 
 wind will upset them ; so the blow which is unfelt by one 
 man may be fatal to another. I may be in a perfect state of 
 health, yet unable to bear the mental strain which would be 
 necessary, had I suddenly to guide the helm of the State, 
 whilst another who is able to wield the might of England can- 
 not survive a fractured bone which a navvy would laugh at. 
 
 When we next turn to the word " exercise " in the diction- 
 ary, we find that it is defined " labour of the body for health or 
 amusement." Accepting the meaning, we recognise the fact 
 that exercise is but another word for labour. We then ask our- 
 selves in what way labour can be necessary to health. It can 
 only be so when it increases the constitutional vigour, the mus- 
 cular strength, the desire to eat, the power of digestion, and when 
 it is compatible with longevity. On the other hand, it is clear 
 that labour is prejudicial to health when it weakens the consti- 
 tution, breaks down the muscular power, impairs the appetite, 
 obstructs digestion, and renders the mind incapable of sustained 
 thought. 
 
 That we may enable our readers to judge of what we mean 
 by these remarks, let us give illustrations of the extremes, viz. : 
 a total cessation of all bodily exercise, and of an absolute ex- 
 cess of labour. In Dr. Watson's " Lectures on the Practice of 
 Medicine " there is a case reported on the authority of Dr. Munro 
 of Edinburgh. It runs thus : There was a young woman 
 brought into the hospital, of which Dr. Munro was the physician, 
 who had paralysis of all the body from the neck downwards. 
 She was unable to move arm, hand, leg, or foot, and in that 
 condition she remained for twenty years. She was daily drawn 
 out of bed and placed on a chair with her hands before her, on 
 an appropriate support. The sole exercise it was possible for 
 her to take was with her head and tongue. Yet the report is 
 silent as to whether she was given to waggling the one and 
 talking much with the other. Yet during the whole of that 
 
90 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 time her health was perfect ; and when she died, from some 
 sudden cause, all the internal organs were found to be healthy. 
 After such a case as this let us just touch lightly upon the 
 unfortunate prince recorded in the story of the " Fisherman and 
 the Genie," who was by enchantment converted into stone from 
 the hip downwards, and was by malice flagellated every day by 
 a woman, and who yet enjoyed such good health, that he sought 
 for death in vain. We then pass on to such real men as Scar- 
 ron, the first husband of Madame de Maintenon, who from para- 
 lysis of the lower limbs was unable to move or take any bodily 
 exercise. Not having lived in his time, I cannot tell his exact 
 state ; but as it has occurred to me to see others in a similar 
 condition, I can testify that a quiescence so complete as is in- 
 volved by palsy, is not incompatible with perfect health, good 
 appetite and digestion, clear head and longevity. 
 
 Again, let us turn our attention to the health of those men 
 whose occupations are essentially sedentary. Perhaps there are 
 few if any who sit so closely and so long during the day, as our 
 great lawyers and our Church dignitaries. For days and weeks 
 and months together a judge has no opportunity of taking exer- 
 cise, and a bishop is so tied to his study by his various duties, 
 that the day is often all too short for him to fulfil them. Men, 
 also, who are at the head of the Sta^te, arid have not only to ori- 
 ginate investigations and draw up schemes for the general im- 
 provement, but to defend their position through many hours of 
 weary debate, have scant time for a gallop in Eotten Eow or a 
 constitutional in the Park. Yet, as a rule, none are so long- 
 lived, and on the whole have better health than such men as we 
 have described. 
 
 On the other hand, we know that both men and horses suc- 
 cumb under excessive labour. A hunter too often used, a dog 
 too often put on the scent, a man kept in a sinking ship for too 
 long " at the pump," will sometimes lie down and die. To be 
 more particular, we know that excess of muscular exertion will 
 bring on a singular disease of which no cure is known, and 
 which consists in a gradual washing of all the muscles in the 
 body, until the eye, indeed, is unable to give a glance of love to 
 the dearest friend, until the tongue is unable to utter a senti- 
 ment of gratitude to a devoted nurse, until the throat refuses to 
 swallow, and until the chest becomes unable to breathe. 
 Such cases are, however, rare. Much more common is it to see 
 a young man train himself so as to be able to do feats of 
 strength which are all but astounding; and when he has attained 
 this end suddenly to break down and die. Something like 
 this occurred to the American pugilist Heenan, who after his 
 fight with Mace became so enervated as barely to escape. I 
 have had under my own charge somewhat similar cases. The 
 
ON THE VALUE OF EXERCISE. 91 
 
 first was a sturdy-looking Irishman, who seemed so ill that I 
 augured badly for his life. The nature of the complaint was at 
 first doubtful, but it had clearly been induced by a race against 
 " time," in which he had run some two miles along a crowded 
 street in some such period as ten minutes. As the symptoms 
 developed themselves it was clear that the man had brought on 
 acute consumption. 
 
 Since then I have met with another instance of precisely 
 similar kind, in which the winner of a foot race was immediately 
 (within two days) affected by " decline," and a third, in which 
 a similar result followed from a pedestrian expedition, during 
 which the patient had shown himself the most active and 
 enduring of the party. A fourth occurred in the person of a 
 fine young man, who was the stroke oar of his college, and 
 apparently one of the most powerful athletes of his University, 
 yet he broke down in a week, and when I saw him he had a 
 large cavity in one lung. All these cases survived for a time, 
 but became complete wrecks ; two died of consumption within 
 three years, and two I am now unable to trace. Whilst 
 attending the patient last mentioned the family doctor told me 
 that a brother had broken down in a similar fashion. Apparently 
 of powerful frame he had worked at gymnastics until his father, 
 proud of his son's muscular development, had taken him, as a 
 show, to the leading surgeon of the town. His " biceps " was 
 enormous, his " pectorals " wonderful, his " deltoids " immense, 
 there were few feats of strength that he could not compass 
 yet in a fortnight from that proud visit the youth was dead of 
 consumption. Again, I have seen in the dead-house the peri- 
 cardium of one whose equal in rowing was scarcely to be found 
 amongst all the amateurs of his city, yet not only did that not 
 prevent ill-health, but positively seemed to induce it. Being 
 determined myself " to prove all things " I essayed for a time to 
 adopt the exercise involved in hunting the hare with beagles. 
 Whilst doing so, I was struck with the remarkable activity of 
 the huntsman, who, after a long run, when all the amateurs were 
 glad to rest, and take breath, continued to run and shout as if 
 it was as easy for him to run as for a swallow to fly. For two 
 seasons only did I see him thus, at the third he was very 
 sluggish, got leave of absence and means to consult a doctor, 
 his heart was found seriously diseased, and after his second visit, 
 which was effected on foot, to the distant physician, he reached 
 home just in time to lie down and die. Now in all these cases, 
 except two, there was no constitutional tendency to disease, and 
 the effects were due solely to excessive bodily exertion and 
 fatigue. This surely suffices to demonstrate that muscular 
 power and constitutional vigour are not synonymous and that 
 gymnastic training may bring on decline rather than ensure 
 
02 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 longevity. Now if an excess of exercise may induce fatal effects 
 in the healthy it is far more likely to do so in those whose 
 health is somewhat impaired and though these essays are 
 chiefly intended to apply to the preservation rather than to the 
 restoration of health, I will give a few illustrations of the effect 
 of exertion, when the frame is from any cause enfeebled. I 
 shall never forget the first a decent-looking seaman applied to 
 the Liverpool Infirmary, whilst I was house surgeon, for admis- 
 sion, he told us that he had walked from a certain dock, a 
 distance of about a mile and a half, the road being a continuous 
 but not rapid ascent. He said that he had bronchitis and was 
 obliged to knock off work. Seeing that he was a fit case I at 
 once took him in, and forthwith directed the porter to see him to 
 his ward up one flight of stairs and no sooner did he reach 
 his bed but he lay down and died. During the same winter 
 two such events occurred, and in all the occurrence was unfore- 
 seen and unexpected. Since then I have known a walk across 
 the room to be fatal, the patient falling dead between his bed 
 and the night chair, and another only just able to reach the bed, 
 and there dying within three hours in spite of the most energetic 
 means for restoration. I have known such simple exercise as 
 walking from room to room bring on the most distressing sym- 
 ptoms of heart disease, which have been again quelled by the 
 most rigid enforcement of laziness. 
 
 Between the extremes thus indicated there is a great number 
 of degrees. Some simply find that they have indigestion, which 
 being attributed, as it too often is, to want of exercise, the 
 individual attempts to cure by still farther exhausting himself. 
 Many is the instance which has come under my notice, in 
 which a man or woman, not content with the toil which his 
 daily business imposes, undertakes to supplement it daily by an 
 hour's walk, and often by two ; thus increasing his sufferings 
 till they force him to take a perfect rest. 
 
 Another, like many a schoolboy, simply finds that he cannot 
 work with his head after exhausting his body. Well do I 
 remember the summer months of my childhood, when I pleaded 
 successfully for play whilst daylight lasted, promising faithfully 
 to learn my lessons when darkness came over the land 'twas 
 all in vain. When the candles were lighted, and my books 
 brought out, " mind " I had none ; I could see letters and read 
 words, but they conveyed no meaning ; thought was impossible, 
 memory was gone, and I had to put off the task to the morning, 
 when, alas, a tired body demanded sleep up to the last moment, 
 and then the lessons were postponed until during the walk to 
 school, when the time was too short. What man is there who 
 cannot remember a similar occurrence, and how he has sat down 
 before a broad sheet, either to read or write, and found himself, 
 
ON THE VALUE OF EXERCISE. 93 
 
 from previous bodily fatigue, unable to understand a sentence, 
 or to find an idea for his pen ? 
 
 Others, again, simply feel a total repugnance for food from 
 that excess of exercise, which they have taken with a view to 
 gain an appetite. Many is the man of business who is ready 
 for his dinner when he leaves his office, but who is all but 
 unable to eat anything after he arrives at home, after a walk of 
 two miles or more. One such like case I remember well. A 
 lady, overwhelmed with anxiety of mind, and harrassed by 
 having to pay close attention to a sick husband, and a large 
 household, finding her own health fail, had recourse to the 
 diligent use of her legs, and took daily a brisk walk for two 
 hours. This made matters worse, and she applied to a doctor, 
 who gave her most strict directions to continue her peripatetieal 
 exercise, and ordered her blue-pill and alteratives, which pulled 
 her down still more. At length her health failed completely. 
 She changed her plan, and found that cure in rest which she 
 had vainly sought in labour. 
 
 Let me take another instance : a gentleman who stammered 
 badly, put himself, for some trivial ailment, under the care of a 
 homoeopathic physician, who prescribed for him, amongst other 
 things, plenty of exercise in the open air. This was taken, and 
 the individual rapidly got worse, until, indeed, he was obliged 
 to give up business, and attend to himself. After vain attempts 
 to get well, he consulted another physician, to whom he brought 
 an account of his symptoms in writing, as he stammered too 
 painfully to speak comfortably. Now the exertion involved in 
 stammering is enormous, and the doctor concluded that this, 
 and some five hours' walking per day, was the chief cause of the 
 complaint ; consequently, the patient was ordered to keep h is 
 tongue quiet, and his body equally so an amusing set of books 
 was chosen for him to select from and bed and the sofa were 
 ordained to be the sole habitations of the invalid's body for a 
 week. At the end of that period, progress was to be reported. 
 The orders were duly carried out, and when the individual came 
 to tell of his condition, no writing was required ; the pains and 
 aches, the indigestion and sleeplessness, nay, even the stammer- 
 ing, had become so much better, that a continuance of the plan 
 was agreed to for another week, after which there was no more 
 excuse for a medical consultation. From all these cases it will 
 be seen that exercise may be, and very often is, prejudicial to 
 health, and that so far from preventing the obligation of a visit 
 to, or from, the doctor, it will positively bring the necessity 
 about. But though we thus raise our voice against an indis- 
 criminate application of the dogma, " that exercise is necessary 
 or conducive to health," it must not be understood that we go 
 into the contrary extreme, and allege that laziness is preferable 
 
94 THE PRESERVATION OP HEALTH. 
 
 to exercise, and is more to be cultivated than activity. Against 
 such pendulum-like reasonings, we most strongly set our face. 
 We hold that every individual must study what is the best in 
 his or her own case, and follow that out, quite irrespective of 
 the dicta or the practices of other people. 
 
 Now let us for a moment examine when exercise does good. 
 We will take the case of any hard-worked professional man 
 who uses his brains the greater part of the day and night, and 
 ask whether any amount of exertion in the streets, or the parks 
 of his town will do him good, so long as his mental work pur- 
 sues him at every stride ? The philosopher, deep in a problem, 
 the lawyer, buried in an intricate suit, the clergyman, interested 
 in a close theological inquiry, or busied with his Sunday's dis- 
 courses, carry with them all their thoughts, whether they are 
 locomoting afoot, or on horseback. Sometimes and I plead 
 guilty to it in my own person, the walks of professional men 
 are their " study," during which they digest the knowledge 
 which they have acquired by reading or observation. To the 
 novelist, or other author, the same experience is doubtless 
 familiar. Now, if such an one begins to break down, it is quite 
 preposterous for him to try to bolster himself up by extra 
 exertion. No ; if exercise is to do him good, it must be taken 
 in the country, far away from books, sermons, lawsuits, maga- 
 zines, newspapers, patients, and medical reviews. The man in 
 search of renovated health must go yachting, pedestrianizing 
 in some lovely scenery, with a pleasant companion, and, if 
 possible, with some such rational amusement as geologizing, bota- 
 nizing, or sketching. He may hunt, he may fish, he may scale 
 Mont Blanc anything so long as he gets fresh air, and plenty 
 of it, is 'never off his food, or unable to digest his dinner, and, 
 in addition, throws his business, and all his physic, to the dogs. 
 Under such a plan he will recover his ordinary health, and then 
 find, as we hinted in our first essay, that many a symptom which 
 he put down to "liver," to "indigestion," &c., &c., was due 
 solely to overwork. When such an one comes home fresh for 
 his work, it is natural that he shall laud the advantage of 
 exercise ; but the philosopher will say " pooh pooh," it was not 
 the exercise alone which did the business ; it was the surround- 
 ings which that exercise involved. If we have brought the 
 reader to the same conclusion, we shall hope that he will profit 
 by the lesson, and never adopt exercise in addition to his daily 
 toil, as a means of staving off disease ; and that he will 
 recognize the fact, that for such a means to be really beneficial, 
 it must be attended with such concomitants as pure air, and a 
 rest from mental toil. 
 
CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 ON CHANGE OF AIR. 
 
 I HAVE a very vivid recollection of my second visit to London 
 on the opening of the usual October Medical Session. Fresh 
 from the country, young, strong and vigorous, I had the appetite 
 of a hunter and the digestion of an ostrich ; like medical stu- 
 dents in general, I had a due appreciation of the value of money, 
 and even when dining had a frugal mind. Chance led me to a 
 certain eating-house where the room was of the dingiest and the 
 table linen of the coarsest that 1 had ever seen ; but the boiled 
 beef was, to my fancy, more delicious than any that had pre- 
 viously regaled my palate, and I revelled daily over a cheap 
 and appetising dinner. How many fellow-students I brought 
 to the same shop, I dare not say at any rate the room was 
 usually full of "cronies," at the time we used to feed, and "the 
 feast of reason and the flow of soul" was enjoyed as much as 
 the odours of the kitchen and its products. But after a few 
 months' hard work in dissecting, hospital labour, taking notes 
 by the hour of lectures by day, and reading, smoking tobacco, 
 with certain other mild dissipations by night, the appetite of 
 "the young man from the country" was gone, and the beloved 
 cook-shop was first shunned, then deserted. After a time the 
 smell from its doors drove me to walk on the opposite side of 
 the street, and finally banished me from the street altogether. 
 So strong, indeed, was my horror of it that even now, when 
 seven and twenty years have elapsed, I should avoid the locality, 
 if I could. 
 
 Notwithstanding this alteration of feeling, I was never aware 
 of being ill, never did I even feel that I required change of air ; 
 all that I can remember now is, that beer was more thought of 
 than bread ; and, sometimes, that when on Sundays we got a 
 glimpse of the country, we sighed for the time when our examin- 
 ations would be over, and we should return to .our homes with 
 the " honours " which we were so eagerly striving for. When 
 at last the happy day arrived that told the student his position, 
 a glance at the " University List" was followed by an instant 
 determination to go by mail to some spot which was to me 
 unknown, and I was, on the next day sauntering, knapsack on 
 back, in the romantic neighbourhood of Tintern and Monmouth. 
 At first, the burden on my back felt a heavy load, and I found 
 
96 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 with regret that three miles per hour was the extent of my 
 powers. The breakfast that I coveted was not done justice 
 to, an appetising dinner was almost disregarded, and I thought 
 with regret of the time when exercise brought hunger in its 
 train, "when good digestion waited on appetite, and health on 
 both." 
 
 Nevertheless, as the days rolled on my knapsack began to 
 feel lighter my watch told me of a gradual advance to four 
 miles an hour, and empty dishes at the end of meals told of 
 increased hunger. After a week's tour I arrived once more at 
 home with the same vigour that I had when I left it. As my 
 pedestrian trip had been a solitary one there was ample time 
 for thought ; nor could I fail to ponder, from day to day, over 
 the marvellous difference between the country and the town 
 between bodily labour and mental work, between exhaustion of 
 the mind and exhaustion of the body. 
 
 The germ of thought thus implanted continued to grow, and 
 opportunities soon presented themselves of prosecuting the sub- 
 ject farther. There was a gentleman whom I well knew who 
 was indefatigable in his business, regular in his habits, living 
 in the debateable ground between town and country, eating 
 well at breakfast, heartily at dinners, and duly taking "forty 
 winks" after it, comfortable in his circumstances and sleeping 
 soundly at night. Yet this very man, as soon as the heats of 
 summer came round,' began to be " fractious," everything in the 
 house seemed to go wrong every dinner-time was a course of 
 wrangling the meat was always overdone or underdone, the 
 potatoes ill boiled, the puddings too sweet and the pies too sour. 
 Instead of home being a nest to which the inmate flew with 
 delight, it became a haunt to be avoided ; and after a certain 
 time of endurance a flitting followed, and the old bird left its 
 mate and its young ones to their own devices. 
 
 When the man had fairly turned his back upon his business, 
 the town and his home, he soon regained his appetite and his 
 equanimity ; and a fortnight's tour brought him back again as 
 pleasant as if he had really returned to a bed of roses. He who 
 had been unintentionally fractious now recognized that his wife 
 was so ; and to give her the same measure as he had meted to 
 himself, she was sent away with the children to the seaside. 
 But the advantage reaped by her was not the same as that 
 which he had "gained. There is an old adage, "animum non 
 mutant qui trans mare currunt;" or a sail in a steamboat 
 does not make a person change her mind. And a woman 
 who takes her family with her to a marine villa carries with 
 her the same daily thought for dinner, the same trouble with 
 servants, the same domestic duties as she had at home. For a 
 wife, or any other woman who has housekeeping duties to per- 
 
ON CHANGE OF AIR. 97 
 
 form, the advantages to be derived from change of air are not 
 fully experienced until there is a rest from these. To the ma- 
 jority of men who have only on rare occasions to select their 
 dinner beforehand the duty is felt to be a bore; how much more 
 then must it be for a woman who has, in ordinary life at least, 
 to look after every meal and even to inspect the meat before it is 
 cooked. I have heard more than one lady remark that the 
 greatest pleasure of hotel life, and of a visit to one's friends, 
 is to beable to sit down to dinner without any knowledge of 
 what is coming. 
 
 This, doubtless, will recal to many the pleasant story of La 
 Fontaine, in which a prince, who was much addicted to gallantry, 
 treated a domestic who rebuked him for his inconstancy to his 
 lovely wife, in the following fashion. He ascertained from him 
 what dish of all others he enjoyed the most ; and, finding that 
 it was partridge pie, he confined him to the delicacy entirely : 
 but when he, who had before so much relished the dainty, had 
 nothing else to live on he soon tired of it, and would have been 
 glad to live on the most ordinary food. 
 
 So it is with man, a perpetual round of duties has a depress- 
 ing effect upon the senses and the mind. It wearies us to 
 see day by day the same faces, to view the same things, to hear 
 the same voices, to smell the same odours, and to talk the same 
 platitudes. After long experience we know exactly how the 
 tea will taste, how the sirloin of beef is likely to be cooked, the 
 probability that the mutton will be burned and the beefsteak 
 too rare we know, too, what our wife will say, and the tone in 
 which she will say it and we are aware that our own company 
 must be as monotonous to them as that of our family is to 
 us. Unable to find subjects for profitable conversation, there 
 arises a propensity to find fault, and one who in high good health 
 and good humour can revel in the boisterousness of childish 
 pastimes, becomes embittered by a laugh and has his temper 
 ruffled by the sight of infantile pleasures. The man or woman 
 who feels thus may not seem out of health, and they may be 
 totally unconscious of anything having occurred to blight their 
 happiness ; yet they are out of sorts they have been feeding 
 on partridge pie too long. It is quite possible for us to have 
 too much of a good thing. The poets may talk of eternal 
 raptures and never-ending bliss ; but the most enthusiastic of 
 mankind would tire of embracing if every time he clasped 
 some loved one in his arms the links were not to be unwound 
 for an hour, and the most charming of kisses would be irksome 
 if the process were prolonged enough to interfere with respira- 
 tion, or for each to ascertain what the other had for dinner on 
 the previous day. 
 
 K 
 
98 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 Now, monotony such as we have described can best be met 
 by change of air ; with change of air comes change of scene ; 
 with that comes change of thought; with that, again, come new 
 trains of idea and expansion of mind. Whilst on the other 
 hand there is a cessation from the feeling of oppression which 
 stagnation induces. There is no longer the partridge pie to 
 affect the senses, the same platitudes to pall the spirit, the 
 same compound of gas-ey, house-y, kitchen-ey and town-ey 
 odours to offend the nostrils. To go for change of air is, or ought 
 to be, an expedition in quest of information, a search for some- 
 thing new. From it a man should return with a fresh fund of 
 anecdotes, a new collection of stories, a fuller repertory of expe- 
 riences, and an addition to that store of illustrations by which 
 he makes the dull realities of life seem brighter to his children 
 or dependents. 
 
 If once we allow this, a good many results will follow, which 
 will enable many a one to answer the knotty questions whither 
 shall I go, whither shall my family go, and shall I go with 
 them? Now, if the main advantage of change of air is to get 
 over the results of monotony, it is not advisable for Paterfamilias 
 to go away with his wife and children, unless there be at the 
 place they visit, ample opportunities for his own individual 
 recreation or amusement, dissimilar to those which he has at 
 home ; nor should he select any spot which he is acquainted 
 with almost as intimately as he is with his own town or street. 
 If inclined to fish he should select some river where the scenery 
 is ever changing, or the seaside where he can find on the bosom 
 of the varying ocean new sensations, new experiences, and a 
 new style of angling. If of more active habits, he should visit 
 the picturesque parts of Great Britain, and of neighbouring 
 countries, never travelling " en grand seigneur" but as a simple 
 gentleman, falling in with the humours of passing strangers, 
 listening to the stories of guides or old women, and revelling in 
 the melange of the "table d'hote." If complete change is the 
 thing mainly sought after, it is clear that a tour in England is 
 not the same as one on the Continent. In every village of Eng- 
 land the British traveller recognizes the same names of persons 
 and trades as he saw in his own town. He is familiar with the 
 look of the houses, the dress of the people, the voice of the 
 peasants, and every expression they use. In France, on the 
 contrary, everything is strange roads, houses, shops, the names 
 of trades and persons, the style of dress, the style of trees, the 
 manners of the people, and even their commonest oaths, all are 
 strange. The Lancashire squire who hears a country lad say to 
 another, "Sister Bob ise here" (seest thou, Bob, I am here), if he 
 thinks of the sentence at all, will only mutter something about 
 
ON CHANGE OF AIR. 90 
 
 vulgar dialect ; but if he hears a French peasant bawl to another, 
 " Venez id tout cb Vheure Jean" he will try and find out the 
 meaning of every word. Then, again, when France becomes 
 familiar, some other country should be adopted ; the idea of 
 change of scene and of idea being ever uppermost, above that of 
 simple change of air. 
 
 To carry out this idea to the full it is not advisable for a man 
 to travel with any companion who is already very familiar with 
 him, unless the individual be recognized as one whose mind is 
 accustomed to independent observation, to the exercise of 
 thought, and to the control of temper. As a rule, it is not 
 advisable for husband and wife to travel together unless both 
 are equally desirous of acquiring knowledge, and both equally 
 able to seek it. A delicate wife is a clog to her active spouse, 
 and a dull consort is a daily plague to one who is vivacious and 
 energetic. It is equally undesirable for a father to travel with 
 his sons as companions unless they are sufficiently grown up to 
 understand what they see, and have been so treated in their 
 childhood as not to stand in awe of " the governor." I have 
 known a travelling party consisting of three brothers and a 
 parent, in which the main idea of the boys was how to escape 
 the father's presence, and in which all pleasure was taken from 
 the parent in consequence of the coldness of his children in the 
 midst of scenic beauties of no common order. 
 
 For the mother of a family *a change similar to that recom- 
 mended to the husband is desirable, although her position in 
 society prevents it being cast in quite the same mould. To 
 such we recommend a visit to a friend or a small tour with a 
 young son or daughter. If fond of gaity and bustle the lady 
 will naturally prefer such a locality at Scarborough, Chelten- 
 ham, Harrogate, or other place where fashion most doth congre- 
 gate. If, on the contrary, she be fond of quiet repose, she may 
 adopt some such quiet retreat as Chepstow, Monmouth, Amble- 
 side, or any other spot where persons go rather to enjoy them- 
 selves apart from their fellow beings than to mix in a gay 
 crowd, and to show off amongst rustics or their own set 
 the newest fashions and the gayest patterns of Parisian 
 modistes. 
 
 For a family of children who require change of air the case 
 is somewhat different. Boys and girls have alike been kept 
 to close stuffy school-rooms, to dog's-eared primers, diction- 
 aries, and grammars. They have lived in an atmosphere of 
 Greek and Latin, Algebra and Arithmetic, parsing and spelling, 
 composition and the use of the Globes, until " every air is 
 heavy with the sighs" that breathe over geometric problems 
 or musical scales. To such, the change that is required is one 
 
100 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 which brings with it pure air and new scenes, which exchanges 
 sedentary pursuits for active employment. This want is best 
 fulfilled by a visit to the seaside, where the activity of youth 
 can find vent in building castles in the sand to keep out the 
 flow or dams across streams to keep in the water after the tide 
 has ebbed. Cleanliness will be adopted involuntarily by the 
 use of a daily bath, and the feet will be kept sweet and clean 
 by constant wading. The love of adventure may, it is true, 
 crop out sometimes in the indulgence of too long a swim or a 
 bold climb up rugged cliffs. No matter. The child is the father 
 to the man ; and soft indeed must be the lad who never gets 
 into danger, or who, being in, has not the nerve to try and 
 escape from it. Many are the fathers who never told their parents 
 the danger which they faced when boys lest they should be pro- 
 hibited from enjoying the amusement during which it was met, 
 and many are the sons who will only tell of a romantic exploit 
 when they know that they will not be scolded for it. There is 
 a firm belief rooted in the minds of many, that there is not an 
 active-minded strong-bodied lad, who does not court danger for 
 its own sake. In that belief I fully agree, and consequently, 
 would rather give a son opportunities for gradually developing 
 the faculty than keep him away from peril altogether. The 
 man who has to battle with the world ought not to be brought 
 up as a woman ; nor should a father, proud of his own man- 
 liness, attempt to stunt that of his boys. Hence, in the selection 
 of a locality to which a family party may be consigned, a quiet 
 spot will at first be chosen, where the dangers to be encountered 
 are small; but as the youths grow up a mountainous or rocky 
 spot will be preferred to the humdrum sandy shore, and a locality 
 where boats abound, and swimming in deep water can be 
 indulged in, will be chosen before so fashionable a place as 
 Worthing, Weston-super-mare, or any other spot suitable for 
 dowagers and invalids. A boy, fresh from an adventurous "out," 
 comes back to school as a hero. He who could climb a cliff to 
 take a bird's nest, cannot bear to have his back crossed by the 
 cane, if he have any mind at all ; but if, after all, his mind 
 should not become developed by such exercise, the parent, at 
 least, can tell that a learned profession will not suit his son. 
 
 The main advantages, then, to be derived by the healthy 
 from change of air may be likened to the effects of the house- 
 maid's turk's-head brush, viz., it sweeps away the cobwebs 
 which time weaves around us all, brightens us up again and 
 enables us to renew our youth. 
 
 As yet I have said nothing respecting the advantage of change 
 of air for the restoration of health when once it has been injured 
 materially from any cause whatever. Indeed I have rather 
 
ON CHANGE OF AIR. 101 
 
 avoided the subject, as it forms no part of my present plan to 
 trench upon the business of the physician. Whenever an indi- 
 vidual has been sufficiently ill to require the services of a doctor, 
 and that adviser has recommended him to go away from home 
 .for a certain time, the patient or his friends earnestly inquire 
 to what locality he is to direct his steps. To be able to answer 
 the question conscientiously, many a physician makes a summer 
 tour on purpose to visit the various spots which are known to 
 be fashionable as resorts for invalids, and he thus becomes 
 practically familiar with the nature and climate of Spain and 
 France, Germany and Switzerland, Scotland and Derbyshire, 
 Penzance and the South of England, Muckross, Cork, and the 
 South of Ireland. If such an one is travelling on the continent 
 he is certain, that is to say, if his manner is sufficiently that of 
 a gentleman to insure his being spoken to freely, to hear from 
 the guests who frequent the table d'hote at the watering-places 
 in question, what are the drawbacks as well as the advantages 
 of the locality, and he may himself incognito hear remarks on 
 members of his profession, over which he will do well to ponder. 
 I remember well, for example, sitting at the public dinner-table 
 at an hotel in Pau, and hearing an account of the woes of two 
 poor Scotch ladies. One was seriously threatened with con- 
 sumption, and her only sister, with whom she lived, was very 
 anxious to keep her alive. But their means were small, and 
 great thrift was required, even in Scotland, " to make ends 
 meet." Now their doctor, knowing all this, had recommended 
 them to go to this popular sanatorium on the north slopes of 
 the Pyrenees, assuring them that the journey would be service- 
 able to health and cheap to the pocket, and that lodging and 
 living in a French town was absurdly inexpensive. In thi& 
 faith they made their arrangements, and at last found themselves 
 in Pau; but when they sought for lodgings they could find 
 none except at prices which, with them, were prohibitory. 
 Their funds were quite inadequate to support them there even 
 in the humblest fashion ; and, although the winter was begin- 
 ning to be severe, they had to return to a garret in England or 
 Scotland, shorn of a large portion of their little means, indignant 
 in mind and depressed in spirit. After we had heard from the 
 eloquent lips of a lady, herself an invalid, the pathetic story 
 above narrated, the ignorance of doctors in general was descanted 
 upon in reference to their knowledge of localities; and one 
 young gentleman declared that he despaired of ever "dinging" 
 any sense into his family doctor, who continued to send him 
 year after year to the same spot, although he always got more 
 harm from the journey itself than he got subsequent good from 
 his sojourn at the place. He was, he said, convinced that his 
 
102 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 last locomotion from England had "cooked his goose;" for r 
 what with a storm when crossing the channel, the bitter draughts 
 of cold air at the railway stations whilst seeing his luggage duly 
 labelled, and the fatigues of the diligence, his cough was worse, 
 his strengthjwas less and his emaciation greater than ever it 
 had been before. He soon after disappeared from the table 
 at the daily gathering, and when I left he 'was considered as 
 incurable. 
 
 Anecdotes" like the preceding tell us that we must consider 
 not simply the locality which is the best, but the means of 
 reaching the place. The architect in England may consider that 
 cedar might be the best wood for a certain purpose; but if he 
 had to send to Lebanon for it, he might think the cost of carriage 
 would counterbalance the particular suitableness of the wood, 
 and he would seek another tree which would answer nearly as 
 well. In like manner, Madeira may be the best place for one 
 recovering from inflamed lungs; but the transit thither may so 
 injure the health, that sea sickness will effect what the previous 
 disease had spared. Again, the bread winner of a family may 
 require change of air; and if a locality is ordered that is too 
 expensive for his means, the mental distress arising from doubts 
 about the future position of himself and of his dear ones, may 
 counterbalance the benefits which the climate ought to bring, 
 We conceive, that when change of air is required for the recruit- 
 ment of health, that the doctor, instead of shaking his head 
 ponderously and issuing, in a decided tone, the name of one 
 locality, should go through a catechism something like the fol- 
 lowing: Have you fondness for one spot more than for another? 
 No. Well, what do you enjov the most when you are well do 
 you like fishing, sketching, boating, yachting, mountaineering 
 scenery, photography, or society? Still farther, how much can 
 you afford to spend over yourself? According to the replies to 
 these questions the physician would recommend a quiet valley 
 with a good trout stream, or a spot like the Betws-y-Coed, hi 
 Wales, where materials abound for the most ardent limner, or 
 Beaumaris, where there are both boating and yachting ; or Bow- 
 ness, where there are boats in plenty, fish in abundance, society 
 galore, and scenery the most lovely. The main requirements 
 for an invalid, who is recruiting health, are animal or mental 
 enjoyment, warmth, air without much exercise, and a good 
 cuisine. The influence of change under these circumstances is 
 very marked. I well remember my recovery from an attack of 
 fever too languid to care much whither I should go, my father 
 decided upon sending me to Llangollen, and I went there with 
 my mother and brother. As the carriage bowled along the level 
 plains I was only conscious of fatigue; but as we entered 
 
ON CHANGE OP AIB. 103 
 
 amongst the mountains the sight of them was like a moral 
 draught of champagne, and I became as excited as if I had 
 drained a bottle of that wine. My brother had a kindred spirit, 
 and we did not sleep until we had climbed to the summit of the 
 nearest hill. Thence we saw another in the distance which 
 was higher, and that we scaled the day after; and my recovery 
 was as absolute as it was sudden. "Now as I feel morally cer- 
 tain that such a result would not have occurred had I been 
 condemned to visit a place which to me would be as stupid as 
 Bath, Harrogate, Cheltenham or Brighton, so I would not 
 recommend anyone to visit a spot where there are not some 
 means of gratifying his peculiar pleasures. 
 
 Here then we recognize once again the fact that common 
 sense has more to do with the preservation and restoration of 
 health than any empirical rule. In the previous essay we saw 
 that exercise might prove prejudicial rather than advantageous 
 if carried out in a senseless fashion. In the present we recog- 
 nize that change of air may be useless, and sometimes even 
 fatal unless all the accessories are studied. Whilst I write thus 
 an anecdote flashes across my memory which seems so appro- 
 priate that I may give it a place. Mrs. , after being very 
 
 ill, was sent from Liverpool to Harrogate for change of air. She 
 seemed to bear the journey well ; but was awaked about four 
 o'clock with an agonizing pain in the back. The family phy- 
 sician was telegraphed for, who administered a powerful opiate , 
 and as soon as its effect was felt he brought his patient back 
 to Liverpool. On her return the pain was tenfold more severe, 
 and she was a dreadful sufferer for many months. Some time 
 after, during the absence of my friend from town, the same lady 
 came under my care, and I too had to order a change of air. 
 The journey was a short one, about four miles, and was taken 
 in an ordinary brougham. But the pain of Harrogate again 
 
 returned, awaking the patient from a sound sleep. Mrs. 
 
 was so graphic in her description that I had at once recognized 
 the nature ol the complaint. It was simply intense cramp of 
 muscles arising from the jolting of the carriage over rough 
 paving stones of our streets, nothing more than rest in bed 
 was ordered, and in three days the pain had ceased. Now a rail- 
 way journey shakes us about far more than a jolting brougham, 
 and a few hours of such commotion is worse than forty minutes, 
 consequently the Harrogate agony was probably far worse than 
 the Liverpool pain ; but it would have subsided by quiet repose. 
 The second journey from Harrogate, however, converted cramp 
 into inflammation. 
 
 Moral : When severe painfollows immediately upon a journey, 
 in a shaking vehicle, it is better to lie in bed till it is well than take 
 
104$ THE PEESEEVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 a second journey and make it worse. An invalid may become so 
 sore all over the body from the fatigues of travelling as to lead her 
 to fear the presence of rheumatic fever. (I use the pronoun her, 
 for ladies are more frequently thus affected than men.) Let her, 
 however, take heart of courage, diligently lie in bed, drink 
 " cock-a-doodle broth" (eggs beaten up with sherry, sugar and 
 milk) every two hours until she sleeps, and on awaking go 
 through a similar process for one, two, or three days, and she 
 will soon find that the fears have been banished with the pains. 
 She will then think of the old saw every rose has its thorn 
 and say to herself, now that I have suffered from the thorn, I 
 may hope that the roses for which I came hither will begin to 
 expand. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 ON THE EFFECT OF HEAT.* 
 
 WHILST writing in the " dog days," the author hears around him 
 many a grumble at the excessive heat of summer, and, perhaps, 
 he anathematizes on his own account that scorching sun which 
 seems to dry up his brain, whilst it brings moisture to his skin. 
 If particularly disposed to murmur he may throw a curse upon 
 our English climate that resembles the " tropics " on one day, 
 and the "polar regions" on the next. If, whilst thus objurgating 
 the heat of a day in July or August, a doctor should step in 
 and bestow an eulogy upon the beneficent Creator who gladdens 
 us with such a sun as is now shining around me, he is almost 
 certain to be met by some sneer about the arid regions of 
 Sahara, the baked plains of India, the deliciousness of the 
 sirocco, or of the " brick-fielders " of Australia. Perchance, the 
 physician may be recommended to try a residence at Aden, 
 where he will find a roast butterfly enough for dinner, and a 
 salmi of blue bottles an aldermanic feast. The doctor, however, 
 can well afford to turn a deaf ear to such pleasantry if he has 
 the well being of his clients at his heart; but if, on the contrary, 
 he considers his own pockets rather than the health of the com- 
 munity, he may chime in "con amore" with all the curses 
 which his acquaintance bestows upon the heats of summer. 
 " Ah," such an one might say, " I detest the warmth of mid- 
 summer and autumn, it takes nearly every patient off my 
 books ; confound it, everybody gets well or else goes off to the 
 seaside, or to rusticate in the country ; why, Sir, I give it to you 
 on my word of honour, I have not at the present moment a 
 single patient ill with rheumatism, all my bronchitic clients 
 have ceased to cough, even the consumptives intimate that they 
 are so much better that I need not call on them so often, and 
 those nasty cases of tic-doloureux which were a little fortune to 
 me are now blithe and gay. Bah ! I hate hot weather." If once 
 the world at large were to hear such a conversation or soliloquy, 
 they would readily recognise the value of heat. Warm weather 
 
 * This essay was penned during the very hottest day of the hot summer 
 of 1867. 
 
 L 
 
106 THE PKESEKVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 does more to empty our hospitals than any other single cause, 
 with bright skies, long days, and brilliant sunshine, patients 
 cannot endure the wards of an infirmary, nor is there reason 
 that they should, for the majority get well simply from their 
 altered circumstances. Let the reader again take notice of the 
 proceedings of his own medical attendant, or those of his pro- 
 fessional acquaintances ; he will then find that almost all take 
 their holiday during or shortly after the hottest weather. 
 
 Now, a doctor who lives by his fees is not likely to undergo 
 the expense of a journey in search of pleasure so long as a 
 multitude of clients throng his consulting room. The know- 
 ledge that he is losing some one or two dozen guineas per day 
 is not likely to enhance his gratification in the disbursement of 
 three or four, whilst swarming up Mont Blanc or treading the 
 snows of the Col de Ge*ant. Consequently, he sticks to business 
 during all the cold season of the year, when illness is rife, and 
 takes his ease in yachting, fishing, pedestrianising, mountaineer- 
 ing, or sketching scenery when he has nothing to do at home. 
 
 Can anything demonstrate more clearly the value of heat ? 
 JBut inasmuch as there are very hazy notions upon this subject, 
 and a strong inclination amongst many to associate the idea of 
 cold and healthiness rather than to ally heat and salubriousness 
 together, let us examine a little more closely into the real in- 
 fluence of warmth upon the human frame. 
 
 We turn our eyes, in the first place, to those localities in 
 which the heat of the sun is tempered by sea breezes and occa- 
 sional genial rains, such as the West Indian Islands and those 
 in the Pacific Ocean within the tropical region. In them the 
 earth brings forth abundantly without any care from man, and 
 a diet of fruits alternated occasionally with fish suffices for the 
 nourishment of the inhabitants. The atmosphere being warm, 
 no clothes are required to avert cold. The sole use of any 
 covering being to show off wealth, or to conceal a small portion 
 of the body, there is nothing to prevent the influence of light 
 over the whole frame. Where the vestments are scanty, bathing 
 is resorted to as a frequent luxury, and where houses are only 
 required to keep out noxious creatures, rather than to secure 
 w T armth and shelter, abundance of pure air is inhaled both by 
 night and day. With all these creature comforts, the human 
 animal attains his most graceful proportions. No one, who is an 
 admirer of loveliness, can read the graphic description given by 
 Cap tain* Cook of the inhabitants of Otaheite without a thrill of 
 pleasure and a half-formed wish that he could himself witness 
 human nature in its most favoured condition. Surely, if the 
 Christian religion teaches us to be content with food and 
 raiment, savages like those of the Friendly Isles must be con- 
 
ON THE EFFECT OF HEAT. 107 
 
 sidered the most fortunate of beings, for they enjoy both the 
 one and the other without any exertion or toil for them. 
 
 It is not until we contemplate man in such a state, that we 
 have any idea of the highly artificial condition in which we 
 live ourselves. For us a house is necessary to shelter us from 
 the bitter frost and cutting winds. The dwelling must be sub- 
 stantial enough to keep out the cold, and sufficiently incom- 
 bustible to allow of fires being used inside of it. Both when 
 at home and abroad, our climate requires the use of clothes 
 by which we retain the natural heat of our bodies from being 
 dissipated by the winds ; whilst, to keep up the natural heat of 
 our frame, we have to eat largely. Now all this involves toil 
 one man is unable to build a house, shear a sheep, spin its 
 wool, weave cloth, cut out and stitch a coat, butcher an ox, all 
 for himself ; consequently, there is division of labour, and one 
 set of men toil at building dwellings, another at making material 
 for clothes, another in framing vestments, and another in pre- 
 paring food for all. Wealth is shown by the dwellings, the 
 garments, and by the food and the heating powers of the individual 
 being in excess of his actual wants. As wealth implies com- 
 fort, so does comfort imply warmth. The wealthiest peer or 
 commoner in England would be miserable if our climate 
 was habitually similar to that of Spitzbergen, and if it was im- 
 possible to kindle and sustain fires. 
 
 With the exertion required for earning the wherewithal to 
 attain to the power of having a house, raiment, food, and heat, 
 we find that there is a certain amount of gratification the 
 labourer becomes warmed by his work. Hence we have drawn 
 the conclusion that toil is a luxury, and that exercise is the 
 equivalent of heat. 
 
 But with all our artificial life, we are not physically one whit 
 more happy or in a better condition than the Negro or Poly- 
 nesian, for whom Nature works unasked, and who is warmed by 
 the sun's rays alone. It is true that there are intellectual 
 pleasures in civilised life of which the savage knows little ; but 
 these are the appanage of few even amongst ourselves, and are 
 only attained by years of severe mental toil. 
 
 We submit, then, that an adequate amount of heat around us 
 is one of the greatest luxuries which mankind can enjoy. 
 
 To this it may be objected that the great men of India con- 
 sider that too much of the sun is a curse rather than a blessing, 
 and do their best to diminish the effects of its rays ; we grant it 
 at once, just as we should grant the proposition that a bath of 
 boiling water would scald us ; but neither the on,e or the other 
 has anything to do with the question before us. 
 
 This, naturally, however, leads us to consider what we mean 
 
108 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 by an adequate amount of heat. If anyone will examine an 
 ordinary thermometer, he will find opposite to 98 deg. Fah- 
 renheit, the words " blood heat," and this may be taken as the 
 natural temperature of the body. 
 
 Now, it is clear that, if the temperature of the surrounding 
 atmosphere is 32 deg., the freezing point of water, or 54 deg., or 
 thereabouts, the mean temperature of our English climate, it 
 will be necessary for the human furnace to consume a sufficient 
 amount of fuel to make up the difference, which amounts to 
 68 or 46 deg. If the cold be more intense than 32 deg. 
 say, for example, if the temperature be at zero, as it occasionally 
 is in our own and other countries, it follows that a larger pro- 
 portion of fuel is necessary to keep up the animal heat. 
 
 That food is human fuel to a human fire can readily be 
 demonstrated during our winters by a single day's fast, the 
 invariable effect of prolonged hunger being a reduction of the 
 natural heat of the body. 
 
 I shall perhaps illustrate this the best by reporting an account 
 of Esquimaux life, which has found a place in a remarkably 
 interesting book recently published by Sir John Lubbock, and 
 entitled " Pre-historic Times." The passages will not only serve 
 to show the necessity for food in promoting warmth, but will 
 corroborate a statement which I have elsewhere made, that it is 
 quite possible for individuals to get drunk on solids totally 
 irrespective of fermented liquors. As I have not the book at 
 hand I quote from memory. " The Esquimaux have no idea of 
 the use of fire except to melt snow into water, and to give them 
 light during the long nights nor indeed could they do with 
 fire in the winter, for their huts are built of frozen snow or ice, 
 and would melt rapidly if much heat was used. Yet the tem- 
 perature of their bodies is the same as that of an Englishman, 
 and can only be kept up by the food they take. It is remark- 
 able that the victuals they consume in their stomachs is the 
 same as that which they burn in their lamps, both being whale, 
 walrus, seal, or other fat, oil, or blubber. The amount which is 
 consumed whenever they have enough for a feast is enormous. 
 On those occasions you may see men attended by their wives 
 sitting up in a sort of drunken sleep, and masticating the food 
 which their spouses place in their mouths. The women as soon 
 as they see the full mouth diminishing, cut off a fresh lump of 
 blubber, and stuff it between the teeth until the cavity will hold 
 no more. They then cut off the morsel on a level with the lips. 
 The man then goes on slowly chewing it until he falls over in a 
 drunken sleep. Verily the writer adds, a man who is drunk 
 with food is a far more disgusting sight than any one who is 
 drunk with liquor." Pp. 393-400. 
 
ON THE EFFECT OP HEAT. 109 
 
 Hear and digest this, ye teetotallers ! ! 
 
 Amongst ourselves we find that heat and cold influence the 
 appetite ; for all of us are familiar with the comparative relish 
 with which we eat our dinners in winter our fondness for hot 
 soup and flesh meat and our disinclination for beef and mutton 
 in the height of summer. It will, therefore, be apparent that cold 
 weather taxes our digestive power to a far greater extent than 
 it is taxed in more temperate climates. To those who are in 
 rude health this result is a pleasant one, for it prolongs and in- 
 tensifies the animal enjoyment of eating and drinking ; but for 
 those whose stomachs are enfeebled or whose purses are in- 
 sufficient to pay for increased supplies, winter is a period of 
 comparative misery. 
 
 It is curious to notice from time to time how anecdotes crop 
 up to show us how great a punishment the sensation of cold 
 becomes amongst those who are unable to procure adequate food 
 and clothing. The story runs that a Scotch divine, whilst 
 preaching to his flock, in the extreme north of our island, painted 
 the Infernal regions as desolated by perpetual ice, and when 
 remonstrated with by a Southerner for his heresy, declared that 
 he did it all for the best, inasmuch as, if he had painted Hell 
 as a hot place, every one of his parishioners would have tried to 
 get there. 
 
 Until we begin to philosophise rigidly, we can scarcely discri- 
 minate between the positive advantages accruing from warmth 
 or the negative results which arise from the absence of cold. 
 The man who has never experienced frost-bite and rheumatism 
 can scarcely understand the joys of summer as experienced by 
 a Highlander or an inhabitant of a cold climate, but he who has 
 for many a weary month had to put up with the miseries of tic 
 doloureux or lumbago can appreciate with gratefulness the re- 
 turn of Midsummer. The value of heat, therefore, is differently 
 understood by different individuals some understand its power 
 in diminishing or annihilating suffering, whilst others, not hav- 
 ing had the suffering, cannot tell anything about it. To a man 
 who was never " hungered," food is simply a daily routine, to a 
 starved mariner it is almost a god. 
 
 Now, the influence of heat in reducing or absorbing pain is a 
 great fact and one which it is impossible to deny. One example 
 is as good as a dozen. I know an individual who, on one occa- 
 sion, cut the tip of one of his fingers with a sharp razor. The 
 pain arising therefrom was so great that he fainted, and was 
 quite unable to bear the member to be touched. The hand was 
 then placed in hot water, and the suffering ceased immediately. 
 There was then an attempt made to dress the wound, but the 
 agony returned as the heat was dissipated, and the individual 
 
110 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 fainted a second time. The part was then dressed under the 
 surface of hot water, and the patient was able to go about. 
 
 With this we may contrast the experience of gentlemen who, 
 thinking much of the value of fresh air, prefer driving in an 
 open vehicle, to travelling in the interior of a brougham. During 
 the summer all goes well, but when the cold of winter sets in 
 and the man has to drive for an hour or more over bleak downs, 
 along which perchance a cold north-easter is blowing heavily, 
 he finds that his scalp is so cooled by the transit that a rheuma- 
 tic headache is his portion for the day. To such an one winter 
 is a perpetual discomfort, and nothing puts a stop to his miseries 
 but a return of summer heat. 
 
 I will now conclude this essay with the case of a gentleman 
 who was good enough to communicate the particulars to me. 
 As I have no personal knowledge of the individual, I cannot 
 give an account of his " physique." He told me that he had been 
 fighting with consumption for thirteen or fourteen years ; that 
 he had been slowly succumbing, yet was still making a good 
 fight ; that he stood in constant necessity for abundance of pure 
 air, but that he could not endure it cold. This had driven him 
 to contrive a plan by which, even in the depth of winter, he 
 could have fresh air delivered close to his face whilst he was 
 lying in bed, and of sufficient warmth not to produce distress of 
 breathing or cough. The plan adopted was ingenious. A tin 
 tube was brought from an aperture over the window to the fire- 
 place, around which it passed, then was carried along the 
 ceiling, and finally opened by a circular fan at the bed's 
 head. The draught required by the fire brought a constant cur- 
 rent of air into the room through the tube, and as this was passed 
 around the fire-place, the air was heated ere it was delivered. 
 When telling me of this contrivance, the gentleman further in- 
 formed me of the value he set upon warmth. He had, he said, 
 often been more seriously threatened by his disease than usual, 
 and had almost given up the contest in despair, but he had as 
 often recovered the lost ground. What had saved him in every 
 case was additional heat. Everything under 74 he considered 
 to be cold. .N~ow, what is so valuable in restoring health, must, 
 cceteris paribus be considered as equally important in preserving 
 it, and we may sum up our views by enumerating the advan- 
 tages of warmth. It enables the man to get more fresh air both 
 by the lungs and by the skin. It reduces the necessity for exer- 
 cise, and diminishes the call for a large amount of food. It pro- 
 motes the circulation of blood through all parts of the body ; 
 diminishes the propensity to rheumatism, tic-doloureux, catarrhs, 
 consumption ; and lastly, though not least, it counteracts the 
 effects of cold. 
 
ON THE EFFECT OF HEAT. Ill 
 
 Those then who are somewhat delicate, prone to rheumatism, 
 headaches, tic-doloureux, and many other affections, should have 
 their houses warmed if their purses will allow them, and with 
 hot air if possible, so that a sitting-room fire can be enjoyed 
 without starving the atmosphere. The bed rooms should be 
 warm, and the body linen when changed should be warmed too. 
 I once sat by a lady who was describing to her circle the nature 
 of the winter at the Eed Eiver settlement. After descanting on 
 the intense cold without, she spoke of the great heat within the 
 house, procured by stoves. The effect of this heat was such as 
 to dry the wood work, and warp it to such an extent that 
 drawers and desks would not lock. On asking her how it had 
 suited her health, she told me that she had never been better 
 than while at her American home. In England, before she left, 
 she had been accounted very delicate, had been a martyr to 
 headaches, and was always miserable in winter following our 
 usual senseless custom of cold bedrooms, icy water to wash in, 
 and starved beds. It had required a long journey to teach her 
 the value of warmth, but now that she had learnt it she had 
 been living in England in comfort. In our next Essay we shall 
 examine the effects of cold. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE EFFECT OF COLD. 
 
 THERE is a pleasant story told about an alderman and his 
 eccentric doctor to the effect that the latter contrived to sit 
 besides the former at a banquet, and having previously provided 
 himself with an appropriate bag, managed to place therein a 
 duplicate share of everything which the former placed in his 
 stomach. We will not stop to inquire how he could do this 
 without attracting attention, for in a manufactured tale the 
 moral is everything, and this runs that when the gourmand 
 came to his doctor the morning after the feast to complain of 
 indigestion, the physician emptied the bag before the astonished 
 alderman, and asking him how he could expect any man to 
 digest such a heap of stuff. Well, now, to many a doctor " the 
 public mind " seems very like the aldermanic stomach, for it 
 heaps within itself an enormous amount of pabulum without 
 digesting any. A physician who has a tenacious memory some- 
 times feels himself sorely tried by the remarks which he hears 
 about some particular agent, and sometimes he can, with diffi- 
 culty, escape from a burst of laughter when he finds that 
 ten different people give ten different characters of the same 
 thing. 
 
 In nothing is this vagueness so conspicuous as in the senti- 
 ments expressed about the influence of " cold." Let us for a 
 moment imagine ourselves going " a round " with our medico 
 and visiting his new patients. The first patient complains of 
 headache the doctor wishing to discriminate whether it arises 
 from too much whiskey-punch, or from incipient fever, asks the 
 cause. The patient replies that he attributes it to " cold." The next 
 client has an inflamed eye, but he " cannot account for it unless he 
 has taken cold." The third sufferer has a sore-throat, which he at- 
 tributes with certainty to having sat " in a draught of cold air." A 
 fourth is a victim to a cough, " a stuffling in the chest," and wheez- 
 ing, and swears that he knew the identical blast of wind through 
 an open door which gave his troubles to him. A dyspeptic 
 comes next, who has vomited his yesterday's dinner, and he is 
 sure " he took cold" whilst coming home in a car with a friend, 
 who would have the window open that he might smoke. That 
 friend himself has a touch of diarrhoea, which he likewise 
 attributes " to cold," for his dinner having been an appetizing one, 
 
THE EFFECT OF COLD. 113 
 
 and his trowsers rather tight, he unbuttoned the top buttons as 
 soon as he reached the car, arid thus " the cold struck his bowels." 
 We have heard stranger things than these attributed "to cold," 
 but we suppress them here. When his rounds are ended the 
 physician becomes an ordinary man, and mingles with society 
 in the usual manner. The first thing, perhaps, which strikes his 
 ear may be, " Bad times these for you, doctor ; I suppose this 
 sharp, bracing air makes all your patients well, eh ? " " You 
 know the old proverb ' A green winter makes a fat church- 
 yard,' ha ha." After a while, a hale old fellow, justly proud 
 of his health comes to him and says, " Now, doctor, I'm sure I 
 could take all your bread away if I could only persuade every- 
 body to do as I have done. I have always slept in a cold bed- 
 room, sponged myself all over my body with cold water, and 
 have never yet worn a great-coat in the wettest or the coldest 
 weather." Another then comes up to the physician and says, 
 " Feel that arm, doctor, it's as hard as nails, and I am about as 
 hard myself. I sleep on a mattress with only one sheet and 
 blanket in the depth of winter, I wash in water off which I 
 have stripped the ice, and I never change my dress for summer 
 heat or winter frosts. There, now, can you show me amongst 
 your patients such thews and sinews ? Ah, doctor, if you 
 would only give up your infernal physic, and teach everybody 
 to copy my example, you would be much better entitled than 
 you are to wield the rod of Esculapius." We will now imagine 
 that the medico retires to his smoking-room and lights his 
 evening pipe for no gentleman-like doctors indulge in cigars 
 or tobacco when they are likely to visit an invalid. As the 
 smoke arises from the bowl, he sees therein some curious sights 
 there is a nondescript which keeps on smiting the heads, eyes, 
 ears, throats, lungs, stomach, bowels, &c., of some human beings, 
 whilst it hedges others round and keeps them from harm. 
 He then recals an ancient fable about a man visiting a satyr, 
 who, observing that he blew upon his fingers to warm them, 
 and upon his porridge to cool it, turned the fellow out for 
 blowing hot and cold. Ere his pipe is out the philosopher 
 understands that breath of a temperature of 96 deg. will impart 
 heat to anything which is only 32 deg., and that it will reduce 
 the heat of anything at 212 deg., and then he asks himself 
 whether the " cold" of which he has heard so much is like the 
 " breath " in the story. We may then imagine him lighting 
 another pipe and trying to define the features of the nondescript 
 which he saw in the eddies of the smoke of the first. He says 
 to himself, What is cold ? What does it do ? Let us examine 
 into it closely ? It surely is not like that mysterious thing 
 which makes a patient, cures a patient, and pays the doctor a 
 draught and draft ? 
 
 M 
 
114 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 Let us now follow the course which the thoughts of the 
 physician whom we have described would probably take. We 
 cast our eyes about the globe and find that there are two regions 
 in which terrific cold has almost perpetual sway. We go with 
 Arctic voyagers to the land of the Esquimaux, and find that as a 
 people they are small in stature, as much subject to disease as 
 their neighbours, and a prey to consumption. The only animals 
 that thrive in their country are walrus, seals, bears, and whales. 
 We then wing our flight to the Straits of Magellan and the 
 land of Terra del Fuego. There we find natives who can find 
 no clothing with which to cover their bodies and shelter them 
 from the fierce blasts of an Antarctic winter, but we find them 
 still more miserable than the denizens of the Arctic circle. 
 
 Discontented with native tribes, we then turn to the accounts 
 of voyagers towards the north or the southern pole. We peer 
 into the reports of men like Parry, Franklin, MacClintock, and 
 others, and find that the sole diseases arising in Polar voyages are 
 rheumatism and scurvy. The latter is clearly independent of 
 the temperature has cold more influence over the former ? The 
 answer runs thus : So long as the temperature of the air 
 suffices to dissolve the moisture evolved from the lungs and 
 skin of the men there was no complaint, but when the ther- 
 mometer fell so low that the same fluid remained as such, the 
 beds and bedding became damp, and all the men had rheumatism. 
 Again, however, the thermometer falls and the perspiration and 
 breath becomes frozen, and the rheumatism disappears until the 
 returning spring, when the icy blankets once more become 
 damp beds. We then inquire whether there are no " colds " on 
 board in winter time, no attacks of bronchitis, ophthalmia, dys- 
 pepsia, purging, &c. ; no, no, no, is the reply, our chief affections 
 are frost-bite, and the only appreciable alteration which we find 
 is an augmentation of appetite, an extra amount of food being 
 requisite to keep up the human fires to their normal height. 
 Now, doctor, we may be inclined to add, let us ask you one 
 farther question, Do your men keep themselves warm in these 
 Arctic voyages, and do you find that cold does them any mis- 
 chief ? The answer is, so long as the cold is dry cold and there 
 is no wind, the men get along comfortably, and their bodies are 
 as warm, or nearly so, as in England, but a moist cold or a 
 sharp wind withers the men and produces frost-bite, stupor, and 
 death. 
 
 Being now fortified by some Arctic experiences, we turn our 
 attention to the phenomena of an English winter. One man 
 drives to his business every day across a bleak country, and 
 perhaps an exposed hill, and suffers habitually from rheumatic 
 headache. The pain he experiences is the guage of the tempe- 
 rature, and he can recognise a summer temperature in January 
 
THE EFFECT OF COLD. 115 
 
 like a good thermometer. Another's business occasionally calls 
 him to expose himself amongst the docks of a busy town, or on the 
 top of a coach or omnibus, and as a result he experiences a fierce 
 attack of tic-doloureux. Another has to stand on the bridge of 
 a steamer piloting her through the intricacies of shoal navigation, 
 whilst a biting wind plays upon one side of his face, and he 
 finds as a result that one half of his visage is paralysed he 
 can indeed only laugh on one side of his mouth. Another 
 individual battles for a lengthened period with a cold wind right 
 in his teeth, his nose, the natural respirator which warms the 
 imbibed air, gets cooled, and little by little his blood gets chilled, 
 and what with the exertion and the starving process, he often 
 sits down to rest, to sleep, and die ; or, if he escapes this extreme 
 fate, he becomes a victim to catarrh, croup, or bronchitis. 
 Another and all my illustrations are drawn from my pro- 
 fessional experience may, perchance be young : it is his ill- 
 fate to live at a time when work is scarce and provisions dear, 
 and to have a father who has been unable or unwilling to lay 
 up a store for a rainy day. The lad, being fit for employment, 
 goes on tramp with his parent to seek for it, and whilst they 
 journey fruitlessly, live on the scantiest fare. The time is that 
 of March, the way lies over some bleak moors, and a keen wind, 
 presaging snow, careers around the travellers during the whole 
 day. Weary, foot-sore, and miserable, they reach home at last, 
 where some kind Dorcas, knowing their poverty, assists them 
 with food and extra clothing, but her cares are for a time vain 
 in one instance, for the next morning sees the lad, whose age 19 
 about fourteen, paralysed from the neck downwards. 
 
 There is indeed something almost appalling in the sudden 
 palsy which proceeds from cold. Not many months ago I had 
 under my care, at our Liverpool Royal Infirmary, a young man 
 of tall build, burly frame, large bones, broad shoulders, and 
 having about him every appearance of health and strength. 
 His family were all healthy, and he had not known a day's 
 illness. When about twenty-two or three his labour took him 
 to a tunnel, where he had to work with other men there was 
 much drip from the roof, and he became thoroughly starved by 
 close contact with the cold rock. Feeling ill, and fancying that 
 he had a " cold," for all his limbs ached, " he knocked off" work 
 and took to bed. Getting however rapidly worse he sought 
 admission into the hospital, and died within a few days a 
 week after his admission, and ten days from his taking to bed. 
 Weak at first, all the muscles of the body gradually lost their 
 power, and he died from inability to breathe. I have seen many 
 other instances of partial palsy from the starving effect of cold 
 but none so bad as this. 
 
 Another effect, which is traceable to cold, is sciatica. 
 
116 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 Throughou the months of March, April, and May the appli- 
 cations for admission into hospital for the cure of sciatica are 
 very considerable, and in all there is the history of hard work 
 and prolonged exposure. The best marked case I have seen of 
 sciatica, produced by exposure and fatigue, was in a relative of 
 my own, who persisted in standing, walking, and digging, and 
 he J ping to plant trees for many an hour during a cold north- 
 easterly gale. He could do such things with impunity in warm 
 weather, and did not see why cold should deter him. The next 
 day he had the fiercest attack of sciatica which it has been my 
 lot to witness. 
 
 Now, as we have seen that cold will influence both the 
 muscles and the nerves it is likely that it will affect the brain 
 and spinal cord. Practically it does so, and many an attack of 
 apoplexy is due to prolonged exposure. To the intelligent 
 reader of travels this will not appear surprising when he recals 
 the propensity to sleep which comes over all those who suffer 
 from intense cold, and the rapidity with which the " sleep " 
 becomes converted into deadly coma. The most conspicuous 
 example of the effect of cold upon the spinal cord I now see 
 frequently in the person of a master mariner. A man of healthy 
 family, of most correct habits, and who had never had a day's 
 illness, was exposed, whilst navigating a powerful screw steamer, 
 to one of the heaviest gales of a winter on the Atlantic. Its 
 severity may be judged by the fact that one of his officers was 
 carried away from his side. For more than two whole days did 
 this captain pace the bridge without other food than hot tea or 
 such soup as could be cooked. At last the gale abated, and he 
 went below. Assistants enabled him to take off his sea boots, 
 which came well nigh to his hips, and when his limbs emerged 
 they were cold as stones, and the boots were charged with snow 
 and hail which had not melted. From that day the limbs 
 gradually lost their power, but the disease did not attain its 
 height until after a visit to Buxton, where he was advised to 
 bathe in water at first at 92, and at last at 82. This starved 
 him thoroughly, and to palsy of the lower limbs was added paralysis 
 of the bladder. An instructive story on this subject has recently 
 appeared in Once a Week, in which a gentleman gives his ex- 
 perience of the so-called water-cure. He was only in want of a 
 holiday but was persuaded to try the effects of hydropathy, and 
 put himself through a prescribed course, but the result of the 
 sanatory measures which were prescribed only had the effect of 
 starving him, and withering his powers, nor did he recover until 
 after many months of generous living and warmth. 
 
 We may next touch upon the effect of cold on children, who 
 are particularly sensitive to its influence. This may best be 
 studied amongst the offspring of the poor who cannot afford to 
 
THE EFFECT OF COLD. 117 
 
 clothe them, and amongst the young ones of the wealthy who 
 like to view the elegant chubby limbs of their descendants, and 
 to see in them prospective angels, such as Eubens loved to paint. 
 With such, cold produces diarrhoea, hebetude of understanding, 
 and arrest of growth. There is, to my mind, something painful 
 in the way reasonable beings treat their own children under an 
 absurd idea of hardening them. Often have I been through a 
 lunatic asylum and seen poor wretches, who, by cerebral disease, 
 have been reduced almost to the condition of brutes, clustered 
 rorund the aperture in the floor through which hot air comes 
 into the wards. Often too have I noticed a dog basking in the 
 sun, or stretching himself out beside his master's fire. I have 
 noticed pussy lying snug in a chimney corner, or nestling herself 
 on a stone, under which a fire flue passed, and when remarking 
 how much the animals liked heat have been disgusted to find 
 that man, the highest of them all, deprives his young of that 
 very warmth which the bird and beast alike covet and procure 
 for their little ones. 
 
 I have not yet said anything of the influence of cold upon the 
 lungs and air passages. The following anecdotes will perhaps 
 suffice to express my views. Not very long ago there appeared 
 a question in one of our medical periodicals as to the prejudicial 
 influence of " night air." I answered it privately, to the effect, 
 that there was nothing bad in the thing itself, except the fact 
 that it was colder, than the atmosphere when warmed by the 
 sun, and I added that impure warm air was more advantageous to 
 the people in general than pure air cold. In reply to my note the 
 inquirer told me that he had been trying during the last dozen 
 years to fight off consumption, that the battle had been a close 
 one, but that he had hitherto been successful, and that all his 
 success was due to the avoidance of cold. This example illus- 
 trates the value of warmth, the following tells of the dangers of 
 a chill. A certain family had their youngest members ill with 
 measles. The time was winter, and amongst his other prescrip- 
 tions the doctor ordered that the room, in which the patients 
 were, should be kept free from draughts of cold air ; everything 
 went on comfortably, and all were convalescent but the two 
 youngest, one about three years of age, the other some fifteen 
 months younger. To them their father came one day in January, 
 the temperature was higher than usual he wore a great coat, 
 and had walked fast for about a mile up hill at noon, under a 
 winter sun. He was warm, and when he entered the sick 
 chamber he found it stifling. Being a bustling sort of man, and 
 very opiniated " to boot," he superseded the doctor, and ordered 
 the patients and their nurses to " quit their warm chamber, 
 where none but salamanders could live, and go into another 
 room where the air was pure and sweet, and cool." Eemon- 
 
118 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 strances were in vain, the poor patients were packed off to a 
 miserable bedroom which had never seen a fire, and which did 
 not witness one until the room was made into a hospital. 
 Within an hour the youngest child was affected with croup, and 
 in few hours more the second became equally ill. Both died 
 within three days, clearly and undoubtedly victims to the idea 
 that the sensations of a healthy man could dictate better than 
 the experience of a doctor what temperature was best for an 
 invalid. But without dwelling upon individual cases we desire 
 to recall to the minds of our readers their experience of church 
 in summer and winter. As a rule, few who feel themselves 
 indisposed, care to go to a place of worship when the weather is 
 bad. Yet during December and January it is a very common 
 occurrence that the preacher's voice is drowned in a roar of 
 coughing, whilst during the months of July and August scarcely 
 a single attempt at expectoration is perceptible. This of itself 
 suffices to show the influence of cold. 
 
 But, although the cause seems plain, there is a great fallacy 
 contained in the general idea. Let us shortly state what it is. 
 The current opinion runs that it is very prejudicial to health to 
 pass from a heated atmosphere into the cold air of winter. 
 Many an attack of consumption is attributed to a cause like this. 
 We do not say that the conclusion is wholly wrong. We can 
 well conceive that an energetic young man or woman in ball-room 
 costume may have danced in a warm room until their under- 
 garments are moist with perspiration, and themselves are lan- 
 guid from prolonged exertion. Under such circumstances it is 
 very likely that a cold blast of air, laden it may be with snow, 
 will produce a chill which strikes them to the bone. Yet, as a 
 rule, the transition from great heat to cold is not prejudicial. 
 In many countries such a change is considered as productive of 
 the most luxurious glow. The bathers in Russia constantly pass 
 from a stifling heat to a cold room, where they have cold water 
 poured over their reeking bodies. The chief cause of catarrh, 
 and even consumption, is not to be found in such a change. It 
 is rather to be sought in the sudden transition from cold to heat. 
 On this point we may give our personal experience. During 
 successive winters the present writer had to turn out about five 
 o'clock and lecture upon medicine until six. His day's work then 
 being generally over, he retired to his " study," which was as 
 warm and comfortable as a doctor could desire. Yet, over and 
 over again, the return home was attended by the uncomfortable 
 sensation of " having caught a cold." In vain the mind was 
 cudgelled to determine how the catarrh had been produced. 
 The bare fact remained, and as the winter advanced the attacks 
 became so severe and constant, that it became a question how 
 far they were dependent upon some serious constitutional 
 
THE EFFECT OF COLD. 119 
 
 change. At length, whilst preparing a lecture upon " common 
 colds," the author found it stated by Dr. Copland that their 
 most frequent cause was coining into a hot and dry atmosphere 
 after being exposed to a moist cold air. Now this was the very 
 thing that the present writer had habitually done. He had 
 flown to his warm sitting room as soon as the front door enabled 
 him to escape the moist cold air of an English winter, and, as a 
 result, he had taken " hot " instead of taking " cold." He 
 changed his plan forthwith, and gradually accustomed himself 
 to the chillier rooms of his house before he went into the warm 
 one, and since then he has escaped the severe " colds " which once 
 tormented him. A fact like this led him to philosophise. He 
 thought of chilblains, and recollected that the most common 
 cause of them was a rapid transition from the cold of ice and 
 snow to the warmth of a fire and hot water. The schoolboy 
 cares little for them so long as he is skating or snow-balling, but 
 he suffers from them as soon as he has washed his hands or 
 placed his feet on the fender before the fire. It is clear, then, 
 that the cold has injured the parts by weakening the blood- 
 vessels and depriving the solid tissues of their blood ; but so 
 long as the cold continues, and the flesh is not " frost-bitten," 
 the injury is not recognised. When, on the other hand, the heat 
 is restored, it is at once apparent that the blood-vessels are 
 abnormally dilated and the circulation of blood arrested, not 
 because none is there, but because its channels are unusually 
 dilated. In medical language, the parts are " congested." So 
 it is in catarrh the chilled nose, throat, and chest are starved 
 by a moist cold air whenever a person is for a long time exposed 
 to their influence ; and if the individual suddenly comes to a 
 hot and dry air, a similar change occurs to that which takes 
 place in the hands and feet. Thus sore-throat and catarrh may 
 frequently be considered as a sort of chilblain of the fauces and 
 the air passages. 
 
 From these considerations we advance to another and aver 
 that the mortality of a town is, as a general rule, more influenced 
 by temperature than any other known cause. During the 
 winter months and those of spring, a careful officer of health 
 can tell the range of the thermometer by the number of 
 deaths which he records. In a large town like Liverpool there 
 are about ten deaths above the average for every degree of cold 
 registered. The doctor, indeed, well knows that a " hard winter " 
 cuts off the aged, the infirm, and the delicate lives as certainly 
 as it destroys soft- wooded plants. He laughs at the absurdity 
 of the dictum that "cold promotes health," and if he be disposed 
 to be mercenary, he rejoices at the advent of that cold season 
 which his hearty friends tell him is to curtail his profits. If 
 given to be sarcastic, he sometimes gives utterance to the idea 
 
120 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 that none but the thoughtless could entertain the belief that a 
 cause which kills plants and animals must be beneficial to 
 man ; but so long as the absurdity of the notion brings " grist to 
 his mill " he does not care. 
 
 We have already adverted to the effects of moist cold as being 
 far more severe than the dry cold of frost. Let us now record 
 in passing one of the most remarkable results of sanitary im- 
 provements. Recent investigations have positively shown that 
 the occurrence of consumption in towns has been remarkably 
 diminished by deep-draining. Wherever a system of deep and 
 extensive sewerage has prevailed in a district, there consumption 
 has diminished and a perfect system has been marked by a 
 falling off in the mortality from phthisis of twenty -five per 
 cent. 
 
 There is yet another phase of the effects of cold which it is 
 desirable to mention. One of the earliest effects of famine is 
 to diminish the vital heat in other words, starvation chills the 
 body. It is clear, then, that food helps to keep us warm, and 
 that the colder the atmosphere, the greater is the amount of 
 victuals necessary for us to keep comfortable. The occurrence 
 of cold, therefore, necessitates larger supplies of " provand." 
 But if the digestion is habitually bad, these supplies cannot be 
 taken, consequently the occurrence of winter aggravates dys- 
 pepsia in all who already suffer from it, and the same season 
 weighs heavily upon the health of all those who are unable to 
 provide themselves with the extra supplies which the season 
 demands. 
 
 As this Essay has already run much beyond the bounds which 
 the author has prescribed for himself, he will not pursue the 
 subject farther than to say that cold is in no way whatever 
 conducive to the preservation of health on the contrary, that 
 it is directly provocative of disease. Its sole value is to enable 
 us the more fully to enjoy warmth. It is quite possible that 
 this assertion will be challenged, but it can only be shaken by 
 its opponents taking a different standard of heat and cold than 
 does the present writer. To be precise, we may thus enunciate 
 our views anything which reduces the warmth of the body on 
 the surface to a temperature of 40 deg, Fahrenheit, perhaps 
 we might even say 50 deg., is directly prejudicial to health, and 
 may eventuate in ery serious mischief. 
 
 In this, as in all other matters wherein health is in question, 
 we hold that it is more judicious to study comfort than to follow 
 theory to examine into, and where judicious, to imitate the 
 habits of animals, than to pursue the dictates of a rigid asceti- 
 cism, which sees in luxury a snare of the devil, and regards a 
 fire in one's bed-room as a prelude to a conflagration in the 
 nethermost hell. 
 
CHAPTEE XVIII. 
 
 ON THE INFLUENCE OF APERIENTS. 
 
 AN Essay iipon the influence of aperients appears at first sight 
 much more fitted for a medical treatise on the restoration of 
 health than for a book which professes mainly to treat upon its 
 conservation. A few minutes thought, however, will show that 
 the subject of the present chapter is strictly germane to our 
 purpose, as may be seen by reference to an epitaph which some 
 individual caused to be placed over his grave. It ran thus : 
 " I was well ; I would be better ; here I am." In this brief 
 line we see the history of some one who like " Le Malade Ima- 
 ginaire " of Moliere, thought so much about himself that he 
 magnified the importance of every little occurrence, and recog- 
 nised in a head or finger-ache the accession of some serious dis- 
 ease. To ward this off he has had recourse to one of those in- 
 dividuals whose profession is to cure, but whose practice, in 
 days gone by, was, too generally, to kill ; and he, notwithstanding 
 all the learning that he was fortified with, administered potion, 
 pill, and clyster. We have often admired the happy knack 
 with which Moliere hit off the characteristics of the old school 
 of medicine, in the most delicious dog Latin, such as was used 
 by those of the faculty who knew more of their mother tongue 
 than of the language of the Romans. See, for example, Le Ma- 
 ladc Tmagincdre, troisieme intermedc. This for the benefit of 
 those readers who have not a smattering of French, Latin, and 
 Italian, we will translate thus, mentioning that the scene repre- 
 sents the examination of a young man by some old doctors, 
 who wish to ascertain whether lie is fit to enter the medical 
 profession : 
 
 QUARTUS DOCTOR. 
 Bus hiero maladus vmus, 
 Tombavit in meas manus, 
 Habet grondum fievram, 
 Cum redoublamentis, 
 Urandimi dolorem capitis, 
 Et grandum malum ou cote, 
 Cum granda difficultate, 
 Et pena a respirare, 
 Veillas mihi dire, 
 Docte Bacheliere, 
 Quid illi facere I 
 
 FOURTH DOCTOR. 
 Yesterday one sick man tumbled 
 into my hands. He had large fever 
 with redoublings, large pain of the 
 head, and large pain at the side, 
 with large difficulty and exertion to 
 breathe. Will you tell me, learned 
 Bachelor, what to do to him ? 
 
130 THE PRESEEVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 BACHELARIUS. BACHELOR. 
 
 Clysteruim donare. Give him a clyster, then "bleed 
 
 Postea seignare, him, and then purge him. 
 Ensuita purgare. 
 
 s QUINTUS DOCTOR. FIFTH DOCTOR. 
 
 Mais si maladia, But if the malady very obstinate, 
 
 Opiniatria, does not wish to be cured, what will 
 
 JMon vult se garire, you do to him ? 
 Quid illi facere. 
 
 BACHELARIUS. BACHELOR. 
 
 Clysterium donare, Give him a cly ster, then bleed 
 
 Postea seignare, him, then purge him ; bleed him 
 
 Ensuita purgare, again, purge him again, and give 
 
 Heseignare repurgare et reclysterisare him another clyster. 
 
 CHORUS or DOCTORS. CHORUS OF DOCTORS. 
 
 Bene, Bene, Bene respondere, Very well, very well, very well, 
 
 Dignus, Dignus, est intraie, very well to answer. Worthy worthy 
 
 In nostro docto corpore. is he to enter into our learned com- 
 
 pany. 
 
 The concluding oath aclministeied to the novice is too good 
 to be passed by. " You swear to keep the statutes prescribed 
 by the Faculty with sense and judgment, and to be in all con- 
 sultations of the same opinion as your senior whether you think 
 him right or wrong." I swear. 
 
 Now it is clear that the subject of our epitaph must have 
 been under such hands, and ordered the warning placed on his 
 tombstone to prevent others falling into the same condition, 
 just like melodramatic victims of the gallows in days gone by 
 used to make speeches warning their auditors against drinking, 
 sabbath-breaking, pilfering, or whatever else the chaplain who 
 tutored them held most in horror, as the root of all bad things. 
 
 It does not require a long knowledge of the world to recog- 
 nise the fact that the vast majority of individuals consider that 
 a day without a visit to Cloaciiia is a nail knocked into their 
 coffin. Many have heard of the parody by a celebrated doctor 
 of Cromwell's dictum, "Fear God, my boys, but keep your 
 powder dry, ' the medical leader adapting it to his hearers, put 
 the whole duty of man thus ; " Worship the Lord, that will do 
 for the next world, and keep your bowels open, that will do for 
 this." As a result of such a saying there are many who think 
 it a duty never to allow themselves to be " bound," and if by 
 any chance the daily seance is omitted, they have recourse to 
 medicine ; they are not ill, but they fear to be so ; they are 
 well, they would be better. The practice of having recourse to 
 artificial means soon shows itself, and repeatedly brings the in- 
 dividual to a state of chronic suffering. 
 
ON THE INFLUENCE OF APEKIENTS. 131 
 
 Whilst I thus write, the face of a valued patient of mine, who 
 though long an acquaintance , had only become a client recently, 
 arises before my memory, and the case is so instructive that I 
 may record it here. On one occasion when I saw him about 
 some ordinary business, I could not help making the remark 
 that he never looked so well since I had known him than he 
 did then. He seemed to have more life, animation, and vigour, 
 more " go " in him than I had ever seen before. " Yes, I feel 
 all that," was the reply, " and to what do you think that I attri- 
 bute the change ? " "I can't tell," was my answer ; " but if you'll 
 give me the secret I should be much obliged." " Well," said he, 
 "its all your own doing ; until you attended me I had been taught, 
 and 1 believed that 1 ought to have my bowels moved every 
 day, but as they were not, I used to take aperient medicine 
 twice a week, and did so regularly almost all my life ; but I 
 never was well. Since, however I have adopted the more 
 rational plan of leaving my natural habit of body to itself, I 
 have been a different man. I do sometimes still take medicine, 
 but at rare intervals and of very mild nature." 
 
 Closely allied to this case is another in which a lady who was 
 getting into years was haunted by the fear of apoplexy and of 
 disease of the liver. Her health was good, but she wanted to 
 be better, and consulted some doctor at every town she visited, 
 all of whom entertained similar views to herself, and prescribed 
 blue pill and colocynth with black draught to follow, with sin- 
 gular unanimity. At length my turn came round for giving 
 advice, and my recommendation was to " throw physic to the 
 dogs." To this, however, she greatly objected. It was too good 
 for them, though not quite good enough for her. Besides, she 
 was perfectly convinced ot the value of her aperients, for 
 she was " invariably better the clay after she had taken her night 
 and morning dose." I had then to demonstrate to her that per- 
 sons were more likely to purge themselves into an apoplexy 
 than to drive it away by means of physic ; that she had not 
 one single symptom of diseased liver, and that nothing was 
 more likely to disorder it than cutting off its due supply of 
 blood ; that all her symptoms arose from debility and indiges- 
 tion, both of which she fostered by her frequent use of " opening 
 medicine ;" and lastly, that she only felt better on the day after 
 the dose, because she was then obliged to lie on the sofa from 
 morning till night, or else to keep her bed. After some coquet- 
 ting with " the old love," it was discarded, the reign of pills was 
 over, and the rest of the old lady's days were spent in compa- 
 rative health and comfort. 
 
 It is probable that I never should have had anything like an 
 intimate knowledge of the effects of aperient medicine had I 
 
132 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 not travelled for months in intimate relationship with a gentle- 
 man of feeble health, who was wedded indissolubly to the use 
 of pills. I use the adverb indissolubly, because he persisted in 
 the use of his physic pellets until the day of his death, whose 
 final stroke, indeed, the pills brought about. Being with 
 this friend at all hours of the day, and often during the night, 
 I was familiar with his voice, his manner, his cheerfulness, or 
 the reverse, and many other little matters. I was aware of his 
 strong feeling in favour of medicine, and did not attempt to 
 shake it until I had studied my acquaintance very closely. 
 The invariable result of the opening medicine was to give relief 
 from flatulence for about twenty-four hours after the pill was 
 taken, and very materially to increase the windiness for the 
 three subsequent days. If lured by the idea that a dose gave 
 one day's relief, my friend took another dose on the second or 
 third day, 110 advantage whatever was apparent, and the flatu- 
 lence was more severe both in duration and amount. 
 
 Let us now consider how an aperient acts, &c. 
 
 If anybody takes the trouble to look into the body of a 
 hare, cow, sheep, &c., they will see that there is a long tract be- 
 tween the stomach and " the vent," to which the name of bowels 
 is given. If he will extend his curiosity farther and slit this 
 tube open from end to end, he will see that in the portion 
 nearest the stomach the material contained is a whitish matter ; 
 and if lie uses his eyes closely he will see small vessels which 
 have been absorbing some of the material ; and if he peer very 
 narrowly he will find that these vessels convey this chyle, as it 
 is called, to the blood. In pursuing the bowel downward he 
 will then come upon a curious valve, which only admits the 
 material to pass towards " the vent/' and after passing this- he 
 will notice that the colour of the material and its nature become 
 greatly changed. The first part of the bowel seems to be a sort 
 of ingress for new pabulum ; the second part is for the egress of 
 old material. In all parts of this intestinal tube he will also 
 see, if he opens a healthy animal immediately after death, that 
 the bowel is contracted upon its contents, and has a worm-like 
 movement by which the contained matter is propelled in the 
 direction of the rectum i.e., the cavity above " the vent." 
 This chamber is capable of considerable extension, and is closed 
 by a muscle which may be compared to a strong india-rubber 
 ring. When the material has accumulated it is discharged. 
 
 Turning now to the point at which we started, we observe 
 that the ducts from the liver open themselves very closely upon 
 the stomach, and the bile becomes mingled with the digested 
 food, the colour of the mixture being that of rich yellow cream. 
 This bile, with some fluid prepared by the sweetbread, seems 
 
ON THE INFLUENCE OF APERIENTS. 133 
 
 then to be necessary for the formation of the chyle, for these 
 materials gradually pass away, and are not to be detected ex- 
 cept in the most minute quantity after the stuff has gone 
 through the valve of which we spoke. In other words, the bile 
 which is formed by the liver passes into the blood, and does 
 not emerge from the vent. The brown colour of the human 
 " motions " is not produced by the bile as many think, but by 
 the lower bowel entirely. 
 
 Again we must return upwards and investigate whence the 
 liver receives its main supply of blood. \Ve find that all the 
 blood which circulates round the bowels in myriads of tiny 
 canals unites itself together again, and then in one large tube 
 betakes itself to the organ in question. From this fluid the bile 
 is formed. Now it is a well known fact in physiology that an 
 organ secretes a larger or a smaller quantity according to the 
 amount of blood which it receives, just as a field will yield a 
 large or small crop according to the prodigality of the supply 
 of manure which is given to it. It is equally clear that the 
 formation of a large secretion diminishes the amount of blood 
 in an organ, just as a large crop taken from a field exhausts the 
 soil it conies from. 
 
 Those who have followed me thus far will now be able to 
 understand that if any individual takes a medicine which in- 
 creases the secretion from the bowel, this will be followed by a 
 diminution in the blood passing forwards to the liver. This, 
 again, will be followed by a diminution in the secretion of bile. 
 This, again, will be attended with a deteriorated condition of 
 the chyle the material whence the blood is formed and thus, 
 by a necessary chain of reasoning, the effect of an aperient is 
 to impoverish the blood, and with impoverishment of blood 
 there follow low spirits, hebetude, head-ache, indigestion, flatu- 
 lence, foul breath, &c. But there is another effect following the 
 use of aperients, which we must shortly notice. Under ordi- 
 nary circumstances there is a layer of mucus in the rectum, more 
 dense than any coughed up during bronchitis, which acts as a 
 sort of guard to prevent the fecal matter coming in contact 
 with the soft bowel, and we may liken this to a worsted glove 
 on the hand of a man who has to carry a very hot piece of 
 iron. When an irritant, however, provokes the membrane 
 throughout the whole intestinal tract, to produce a watery 
 mucus, there is no preservation for the soft membrane, and it 
 thus becomes as much irritated by the contact of the " stools " 
 as the eye is by the invasion of soap and water. Consequently, 
 the motions after a dose of physic usually give much pain in 
 passing, and sometimes bring about spasm or inflammation of 
 the gut, just as the hand would become pained, and perhaps 
 
THE PKESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 burned, by the hot iron, when the glove no longer intervened. 
 It is this sensation of heat or pain in the vent that leads per- 
 sons to the belief that bile is passing. 
 
 There is yet another consideration respecting aperients that 
 we must not pass by, and which we must introduce thus : 
 When any organ of the body has been unusually hard worked, 
 it is for the time enfeebled ; the arm which can fell a giant in 
 the morning, if it continues such work throughout a whole day, 
 can scarcely fell a baby the next morning, and in like manner, 
 a stomach which has just digested an enormous dinner, can 
 scarcely digest another immediately afterwards. When the 
 mucous membrane of the bowels has been called upon in like 
 manner to work doubly hard, it becomes weakened, and when 
 weakened it secretes " wind." The air thus formed distends the 
 bowel, and then the intestine, not being able to close upon its 
 contents, cannot propel them as it does in health ; its worm- 
 like movement is all but inoperative on air, consequently the 
 bowels always seem to be more sluggish after a good purging 
 than they were before ; that they are so, is the experience of 
 all observers. We have thus, by a chain of tolerably close 
 reasoning, demonstrated the effect of an aperient to be a dimi- 
 nution of blood in the bowel, and in the body a curtailment of 
 materiel; in the liver, a smaller supply of bile for digestion, 
 an impoverishment of the blood, and a " windy " condition of 
 the bowels. These conclusions are amply borne out by expe- 
 rience. Observations most carefully conducted have demon- 
 strated that the secretion of bile is wry materially diminished 
 l)y the use of all aperients, and that the preparations of mer- 
 cury, calomel, Uue pill, and the like, instead of augmenting the 
 secretion of bile, reduce it sometimes to the extent of one-third 
 of the usual supply. They still farther demonstrate that the 
 influence of mercurials and of aperients in general, is expended, 
 as " a priori " reasoning would lead us to infer, upon the in- 
 ternal surface of the bowels. In fine, the effect of a dose of 
 opening medicine upon the intestinal tract resembles that of 
 onion juice upon the eye i. e., it produces an increased secre- 
 tion, and as the organ of sight is no better for the application 
 of the one, so the organs of absorption of food are no better for 
 the other. 
 
 An assertion such as this will by many be supposed to strike 
 at the root of all hygiene, and the question will be asked us, 
 whether we mean to assert that purgatives are absolutely use- 
 less, and positively prejudicial under all circumstances. To 
 this we would reply in the first case, that an inquiry is not an 
 argument, and in the second we would answer by a farther in- 
 terrogation. Let us ask our objector whether he ever knew a 
 
ON THE INFLUENCE OF APERIENTS. 135 
 
 cow, sheep, horse, dog, cat, mouse, whale, or elephant, that ever 
 went to a chemist's shop to buy a dose of physic, and still 
 farther, whether these creatures do not get along as well as do 
 men and women, who ransack both hemispheres for a new drug 
 wherewith to unload unnaturally that which, if left alone, would 
 unload itself ? 
 
 Now, we do not mean to affirm that under no circumstances 
 are purgatives useful ; to make such a statement would be to 
 write ourselves as theorists of the wildest stamp. We know 
 that from the exigences of life persons are obliged to live a life 
 so artificial that the natural functions can scarcely be carried 
 on. A man who has to travel much, or to sit for the greatest 
 part of the day at his desk, or in an easy chair, cannot be ex- 
 pected to be as regular in his bodily habits as one who is in 
 constant exercise, and rarely sits down, except to eat. A 
 woman, too, whose avocations chain her to her chair, or prevent 
 her from visiting Cloacina, except at occasional intervals, is 
 equally liable with man to become irregular as regards the 
 natural functions. We fully allow, moreover, that the gor- 
 mandizer who habitually eats and drinks twice as much as is 
 necessary for his constitution, is often the better for making 
 " a clean sweep " occasionally. All this we willingly allow. 
 
 On the other hand, we aver that any one who under these 
 circumstances trusts to aperients alone to improve his condition 
 will find himself worse than he would be without them. 
 
 In every populous town where there is a centre of business, 
 there is certain to be one druggist who gets more custom than 
 his fellows from the men who frequent the haunts of commeice, 
 and if by nature the chemist is an observing man, he will clas- 
 sify his customers, and keep a mental memorandum of the 
 drugs they mostly favour, and of the results which attend their 
 predilections. Now, I have heard of such an one declaring that 
 those who were most pertinacious in coining to him for mate- 
 rials wherewith to purge away the remains of aldermanic feasts, 
 were specially subject to sudden death from apoplexy, fainting, 
 or some other cause, whilst those who were content with a 
 simple stomachic, like gentian, or other bitters, generally got 
 along tolerably well. We do not vouch for the truth of the 
 story, but we are not above the belief that the experience of 
 every body is worth listening to, and we declare, that after 
 giving to a client advice similar to that which is embodied in 
 this Essay, he informed us that such was the account he re- 
 ceived from a druggist who is now dead, but who in his time 
 was as well known as any medical man in his town. 
 
 From what we have said, we think that it will be evident to 
 our readers that an essay on the influence of aperients is very 
 
136 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 necessary in a volume which treats upon the Preservation of 
 Health, and we shall be perfectly satisfied if we persuade our 
 readers that pills are not panaceas, and that it is very often the 
 case that the indulgence in opening medicine is a very common 
 origin of indigestion, low spirits, flatulence, and general debility. 
 In thus writing, we are, to a certain extent, " cutting our own 
 throats," for the habit of reckless drugging amongst the com- 
 munity at large docs more to bring patients to the doctor than 
 any other cause. But as our present business is to warn fishes 
 from the net, we sink our individual interest for the general 
 benefit. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE USE OF A DOCTOR. 
 
 THERE is scarcely one of my readers v/ho does not imagine 
 that lie knows the use of a doctor as well as he knows that of 
 a lawyer, a carpenter, or a blacksmith, and he is probably quite 
 right in his estimate, for he is very likely to consider that all 
 these are individuals whose business it is to carry out the behests 
 of those who want certain things to be done, but do not know 
 how to effect them from their want of skill. There are many 
 of us who are disposed not only to tell a carpenter what we 
 want him to do, but also the plan which he ought to adopt in 
 carrying out the details ; and there are many who consider the 
 chief business of the doctor is to carry out the wishes of his 
 patient. We have, indeed, certain proofs that such is the case 
 in certain matters. For example, it is now well known that in 
 America, women, whose position entitles them to rank as ladies, 
 prefer the pleasures and freedom of matrimonial life to its suf- 
 ferings, and have recourse to doctors to relieve themselves from 
 the pains of maternity and the motherly responsibilities of a 
 family. An American union in the highest circles is thus 
 rarely prolific, and native Americans die out from the selfish- 
 ness of the feminine element. At first all respectable doctors 
 refused to participate in the guilt of such matters ; but when a 
 lady does not scruple to tell her ordinary medical attendant, 
 that what he has declined to do has been done by another, it 
 becomes a consideration with him whether he will retain his 
 conscience, lose his patients and starve, or whether he will be- 
 come an accomplice in a legal wrong which by tacit consent is 
 looked upon as venial or pardonable weakness. 
 
 Again, I remember to have read amongst a mass of statistics 
 about the mortality attending amputations in France, that one 
 individual had his leg removed " from complaisance." The 
 account ran that an enthusiastic young man was deeply ena- 
 moured of a young lady whom he was very anxious to marry. 
 She on her part was as romantic as he was earnest, and refused 
 to unite herself to him, inasmuch as from some accident or 
 other she had been obliged to suffer the loss of a leg. The lady 
 obstinately adhering to her own resolution, obliged her lover either 
 to give up entirely the idea of matrimonial or other union, or to 
 become mutilated like she was. He selected the latter alterna- 
 tive, and in no sensational novel have we ever read anything so 
 
 p 
 
138 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 remarkable as the dry account by the surgeon of the interview 
 between himself and the enthusiastic youth. The former, as in 
 duty bound, declined the job, pointed out in proper terms the 
 pain of the operation, the danger which attended it, its absolute 
 irrevocability, and the chance that after all the lady might prove 
 false, unkind, or too delicate to live long, and that it would be 
 misery for the rest of his life to feel, that in the hot blood of 
 youth he had so injured himself as to be imperfect and unable 
 to walk, run, or dance like his fellow men. Tt was all in vain. 
 The young man persisted in his desire, declared his stern deter- 
 mination to have the operation performed by somebody, and 
 pleaded so hard to him whom he thought would do it better than 
 any other man in France, that the surgeon consented. The leg 
 was cut off, and the ardent lover died from one of the many 
 dangers of which he had been told. The doctor simply drew 
 the moral that amputations of the leg were dangerous even in 
 the midst of health. 
 
 Now it is clear in both the cases which we have referred to 
 that the medical men were used simply as tools, and we may 
 fairly contrast them with another instance in which the tool 
 proved fairly rebellious. 
 
 A physician, with whom I am very well acquainted, was sum- 
 moned to see a young lady who lived, at some distance from 
 town. The message was urgent, and his haste was great. He 
 found that his patient was suffering from intense pain, which 
 was borne with Spartan firmness ; but as the lady was natu- 
 rally reticent, and there was neither mother nor nurse to in- 
 struct him, lie was unable to understand the nature or the loca- 
 lity of the suffering. For more than an hour he was foiled in 
 his efforts, and all that he could ascertain was that lie had been 
 sent for only to prescribe an opiate dose sufficiently strong to 
 lull the pain, the lady herself having previously sent to a drug- 
 gist for a quantity of laudanum which he had refused to dis- 
 pense without a medical authority. After mature consideration 
 the physician complied, but gave also certain directions, made a 
 second visit after a week's inten-al, and again essayed to find 
 out the nature and locality of the pain. After a visit of an 
 hour and a quarter, he returned foiled, the reticence of the lady 
 preventing any direct information being given. On the next 
 visit the doctor began by telling, as he would have done to a 
 class of anatomical students, the Latin names of certain parts of 
 the body, expressing his belief that the pain was seated in the 
 rectum, and that there was a condition existing there to which 
 the name of fissure, crack, or chap is given, that this was 
 the most painful and agonising disease known to doctors, and 
 that it aggravated the pain of the monthly visitor very mate- 
 rially. The deduction which the physician drew was correct, 
 
THE USE OP A DOCTOR, 139 
 
 and he then learned that the young lady had suffered from this 
 frightful suffering for nine years, that her ordinary doctor, a 
 hoimeopathist, had disbelieved in the existence of any real ill- 
 ness, and that her father and all her friends had regarded her as 
 a silly hysterical woman. It would almost sound romantic if 
 we were to detail the proofs of heroism given by the unfortunate 
 patient during the long period of those sufferings, which were 
 never once relieved by sympathy, and were repeatedly aggra- 
 vated by contumely. The physician in question has often also 
 descanted upon the touching tone of thankfulness with which 
 his patient uttered the words, " Then you really believe that my 
 sufferings have been and are real !" which resembled the cry of 
 the storm-bound mariner who sees his goal at last ; and he was 
 equally touched with the stoic firmness of her proposition, that 
 she would rather bear all her miseries for the rest of her life and 
 feel confidence in his judgment, than undergo the necessary exa- 
 mination and operation, with the bare possibility that the doc- 
 tor's opinion might be wrong. The physician, however, had no 
 doubts, and chloroform and a skilful surgeon put an end to the 
 painful affection. 
 
 To this we will add another example of similar import. A 
 surgeon, whose sagacity may be judged by the sequel, was con- 
 sulted by a lady for some disease of the womb, for which she 
 had consulted a great number of doctors without any relief 
 being obtained. Two years her sufferings had lasted, and she 
 was travelling from place to place hoping to find some one w r ho 
 would understand her case and cure her. Of course an exami- 
 nation of the parts was necessary, which was readily effected 
 under the influence of chloroform. To the surgeon's surprise 
 he found all the parts were perfectly healthy, and for a time he 
 doubted whether there was some " sham " in the matter ; but 
 putting together all the circumstances of the case, he determined 
 to explore the rectum ; he found there a fish bone lying across 
 the bowel, and firmly impacted in the sphincter ani. With a 
 little contrivance this was removed, and on recovering her con- 
 sciousness the lady learned the result of the examination, and 
 then told the sagacious surgeon that she had been to everybody 
 in the hope that they would of themselves make the discovery 
 which he had clone. It was clear that with maiden modesty 
 she had been unable to refer her sufferings to the anus. 
 
 Now in both these instances it is evident that the doctors 
 who succeeded in finding out the real nature of the diseases 
 were infinitely superior to those who were only used as tools to 
 carry out the directions of their patients. A\ T e may illustrate 
 our meaning still farther by another example. A medical 
 friend informed me that on one occasion he was sent for to see 
 
140 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 an elderly man who imagined that lie was threatened with apo- 
 plexy, or had some other serious disease impending, to obviate 
 which he required to be bled. On examining his symptoms the 
 surgeon came to the conclusion that the man wanted more blood 
 in his veins rather than less, and prescribed some tonic medi- 
 cine and generous diet, under which treatment he felt sure the 
 man would soon be well ; but he was followed by a note in- 
 forming him that he need not call again, and so heard nothing 
 more of the case for a time. The patient next sent for a phy- 
 sician whose plausibility had won for him an immense reputa- 
 tion, and to tliis one he told both his symptoms, and his deter- 
 mination to be bled. The two doctors being very intimate, soon 
 learned the particulars from each other, and 011 the first asking 
 the second what he had done, the reply was, " I knew as well 
 as you did that bleeding was the wrong thing to be done, but 
 the old fool was so opiniated, that if I had not humoured him 
 he would have gone to somebody else. I therefore told him 
 that it was bleeding by leeches which was suitable to his case, 
 so he got his own way, and I got far more fees than 1 should 
 have clone had I combatted his determination." 
 
 After the same fashion many a patient comes to a physician 
 saying, " I want you to prescribe something for my liver, for I 
 am very bilious, or something for iny bowels, for they are very 
 costive." In both cases the patient firmly believes that he 
 knows the nature of the complaint fully, although he is not 
 able to discover the exact remedy. In the same way a doctor, 
 when he attends a family, is expected to treat the ailments of 
 his patients in some way which paterfamilias or mamma be- 
 lieves to be the correct thing. Mr. A. has from some cause been 
 selected by Mr. B. for the ordinary doctor, but is soon dismissed 
 because he simply comes to see his patients, gives some simple 
 directions, and leaves them without ordering a single dose of 
 physic. Anybody, it is supposed, can look learned at the bed- 
 side papa himself, perhaps, as well as anybody else. What 
 then is the use of of paying a physician who seems to do no 
 more. Mr. C. then supplants Mr. A., and finding that the 
 former was dismissed because he seemed to do so little, the 
 latter drenches his patients with physic, and thrives himself, 
 whether his victims do so or not. Mr. A. and Mr. C. are sure 
 to meet in a friendly fashion after this event, for all neighbour- 
 ing doctors are on amicable terms with each other if they are 
 sensible men ; and they have a chat over Mr. B.'s family affairs, 
 Mr. C. holding out that it pays better to let the fools have their 
 own way ; and Mr. A. that a doctor ought to be conscientious. 
 Both will agree in the main as to theory, and if the case be one 
 in which bread and butter is concerned, they will in the end 
 
THE USE OF A DOCTOR. 141.' 
 
 unite ill their method of practice, for a doctor cannot afford to 
 oppose the prejudices of his patients, unless he has money suffi- 
 cient for his wants independent of them. 
 
 When, once a professional man finds that it is for his interest 
 to humour his patients rather than instruct their ignorance, it 
 is clear that the doctor who is most complaisant will be the 
 most successful practitioner as regards emoluments, and the 
 most able physician will be the one who has the least practice. 
 The one is paid for not curing his patients, and the other starves 
 because he cures them right off. As an illustration of my mean- 
 ing I will narrate briefly two or three cases of which T am suf- 
 ficiently cognisant. An elderly lady suffered dreadfully from 
 pains in all parts of the body, for the relief of which she had 
 almost constant medical attendance, and underwent the applica- 
 tions of dozens of blisters and hundreds of leeches. For years 
 she was a "stock" patient, and paid what was equivalent to a 
 small annuity to her doctor and druggist. Yet though she spent 
 nearly all her living upon physicians, she only got worse. At 
 length a new man arose who attended to her in the temporary 
 absence of her own doctor. From a careful observation of the 
 circumstances the new comer considered that all the symptoms 
 were due to fatigue. He ordered an arm chair and sofa, and 
 the annuity ceased. For curing the case he put into the hands 
 of his friend some three guineas, whilst for not curing it the 
 annual charge had been between fifty and sixty. Again, a gen- 
 tleman in a fit of epilepsy got a set of false teeth jnto his throat 
 unconsciously to himself, and then suffered from constant vomit- 
 ing. He came then under the care of a distinguished physi- 
 cian, who duly prescribed, but effected nothing towards relief 
 of the symptoms. A distinguished surgeon was then associated 
 with the physician, but no good resulted. The patient was then 
 sent down to his native air and a local doctor, but he returned 
 back as bad as ever. Again the distinguished physician and 
 surgeon attended upon him, but without any further result than 
 the lightening of his purse. They got well paid for not curing. 
 At last the individual sought another surgeon, who on learning 
 the symptoms put his finger down the throat, and removed 
 therefrom the set of teeth which had disappeared during the fit. 
 He probably may have received two guineas for the cure, whilst 
 those who only tried to do so, bagged some thirty amongst them. 
 In another instance a physician attended a lady for many 
 months without doing her any good whatever, and his fees 
 amounted to about sixty or seventy guineas. Another subse- 
 quently took the case in hand, and the patient got well in less 
 than two months, yielding fees to the amount of five guineas 
 only. 
 
 The medical profession generally, are quite alive to the fact 
 
142 THE PKESERVATIOX OF HEALTH. 
 
 that ignorance, or the perversion of real knowledge, pays better 
 than a well stored mind. They know that an attendance during 
 a long illness, is not only a lucrative thing in itself but a good 
 advertisement. Every body who calls upon poor Mr. D. or the 
 delicate Mrs. E, hears of the attentiveness of Mr. F.,his unwea- 
 ried kindness, and his skill, and each remember him when they 
 are disposed to change their doctor. Now, had Mr. F. treated 
 the patient as he would himself, and cured him or her in a 
 week, he would have lost both many fees and much advertise- 
 ment. All old stagers in the profession make a great distinction 
 between one who knows his profession and one who knows his 
 business, and the last is always preferred before the first. It is 
 the existence of these two elements which causes so great a 
 diversity in the various medical books with which the press 
 teems : some are written to show that the authors know their 
 business, others to demonstrate that the authors are anxious to 
 improve their profession ; the first are lauded by the Medical 
 Reviews, all of winch, have an eye to business, the latter receive 
 the cold shoulder, are snubbed, and shelved. There is however 
 another aspect in which this subject may be viewed : it is evi- 
 dent to every body that each of us considers that he knows the 
 only way to heaven, for each assumes the power of becoming 
 Jew, Turk, Infidel, Roman Catholic, Protestant, Baptist, Wes- 
 leyan, Unitarian and the like, and surely it may be argued that we 
 who know so much about futurity as to say which set of men 
 best prepare us for it, can tell whether Homceopathy, Hydropa- 
 thy, Kinesopathy, or Allopathy is the best medical system. Of 
 the power of selection none can doubt, about the judgment 
 which dictates the choice there is much question. Where there 
 are no definite means of solving a difficult problem, a very small 
 matter will turn us in one direction or another, and the toss of 
 a halfpenny may be the means of settling the church or chapel 
 to be attended and the doctor to be consulted. I can give no 
 more valid directions to enable a man to select a physician than 
 to decide which form of religion is the soundest. 
 
 What then after all is the use of a doctor when even a phy- 
 sician alleges his inability to select one for his own family when 
 they go to a strange place, away from himself ? Much. The real 
 use of a doctor, is to ascertain the nature of any ailment, to 
 examine whether that may have been brought about by some 
 bad habit unconsciously contracted ; to dissuade his patient 
 from the senseless use of physic, to lay down an intelligible 
 plan of treatment, and give a definite opinion as to the duration 
 of the ailment. A physician who breaks down under cross- 
 examination, or shelters himself behind hard words, may always 
 be considered as one who knows less of his profession than 
 of his business, and any one who desires to preserve his health, 
 
THE USE OF A DOCTOR. 143 
 
 will do better to avoid his advice than to follow it. This sug- 
 gestion involves the proposition that it is an injudicious thing 
 to give a doctor any indication of one's own idea of the nature 
 of the ailment complained of; if, for example, a man goes to his 
 medical adviser and says : " I have an affection of the liver for 
 which I want you to prescribe," it is very natural for the surgeon 
 to ask a few routine questions, and prescribe blue pill and colo- 
 cynth, but if the individual simply states his case without any 
 theory as to the nature of it, the medico must investigate the 
 matter for himself and give an explanation which shall satisfy 
 both himself and his client. 
 
 Again, if beyond a mere ailment there is such a serious 
 disease as fever, it is better to watch the doctor's treatment and 
 cross-examine him as to the reason why he orders this or that, 
 than to indicate to him the plan which lie is expected to follow ; 
 in the one case the physician must draw upon his knowledge, 
 with the full belief that his practice is closely watched in the 
 other his drafts are upon the ignorance of his clients. To illus- 
 trate my meaning, let me imagine that I tell a carpenter to make 
 me a box, or to repair another in the best way he can, it is cer- 
 tain that by watching him I shall get a far clearer notion of his 
 ability than if I direct him how to do it and find he is foiled in 
 carrying out my directions. There is no doubt that the general 
 desire of those who apply to a doctor, is that they shall be cured of 
 suoh ailments as they have, or if a cure is impossible that they 
 shall be relieved as far as is possible with the nature of things, and 
 it is far better to leave the opinion of the medico unshackled, 
 than to endeavour by reading to ascertain what the books say 
 he ought to do and then to see whether he does it. This leads 
 me again to another phase of the question ; in modern days 
 when books are abundant, there is nothing more common than 
 for a physician to be asked the name of the disease for which 
 he is prescribing, and for the patient's friends to consult some 
 approved book whereby to test the expressed opinion of the 
 doctor well indeed do I remember when House Surgeon of the 
 Liverpool Infirmary, being questioned by a lay visitor as to the 
 correct treatment of a certain patient who had a ticket over his 
 bed describing the case as " congestion of the liver " whilst the 
 doctor was giving him nothing but quinine my explanation 
 was that the complaint was nominated on the first blush that 
 the name thus given was oftener found to be incorrect upon fur- 
 ther examination, and that it was inconvenient to change the 
 " tickets " which contained, for the doctor, a real history of the 
 treatment. The same sort of thing exists in private practice 
 every body wants to know the name of the complaint they 
 suffer from, and that name very frequently it is impossible to 
 give. To explain the importance of giving or abstaining from 
 
144 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 giving a name, let me tell a personal anecdote. Long ago, the 
 year in fact in which. I " passed the Hall and College " I asked 
 a friend somewhat older than myself the following question, 
 " I say old fellow, what do you say when you are consulted by 
 somebody who wants to know the name and nature of the 
 affection for which they ask advice and as must very often 
 happen you really don't know either the one or the other ? " 
 " Oh " was the reply, " it does not do to say that you are ignorant, 
 so I always say under the circumstances, that it is the liver 
 which is out of order, every body knows that they have a liver, 
 everybody believes that the liver is apt to become disordered, so 
 you are always safe. " I have never followed the advice, how- 
 ever, preferring to allow that I am unable to find a name, and 
 determining to discover one to giving a false notion and shelving 
 an inquiry. My own notions of the belief of doctors in general 
 resembles that which Moliere puts into the mouth of a doctor in 
 Le Malade Imayinaire, act ii. scene vi. " To tell the truth, our 
 business has never appeared to me to be a pleasant one amongst 
 great folks, and I have always found it to be much more 
 pleasant to practise amongst the common people. The latter 
 are very accommodating and you have not to answer to any 
 body for your actions ; provided only that you follow the current 
 rules laid clown in medical works, nobody seems to care very 
 much for the result. But that which is the provoking thing 
 amongst the better class is that when they happen to be ill they 
 positively expect that their physicians shall cure them ! ! " 
 " Oh, " says the clever soubrette in reply, " what a joke that is, 
 and how very impertinent the great folks are to wish to be re- 
 lieved, you doctors do not visit them for that, your business is 
 solely to receive fees and to write prescriptions it is their busi- 
 ness to get well if they can. " " Quite true is the response we 
 ought only to be expected to treat our patients according to the 
 established rules of art." In conclusion, let us give the moral 
 of our discourse in these words : the use of a doctor is to cure 
 his patient, not to name his disease, and if he professes to be 
 able to cure and does not succeed, it is very doubtful whether 
 his practice is not on a par with his professions, and that both 
 alike are worthless. 
 
CHAPTEK XX. 
 
 ON THE COURSE -OF DISEASE. 
 
 To most persons it would appear self-evident that the course of 
 disease can have very little to do with the preservation of health, 
 yet when I proposed to myself the headings of the essays which 
 I am writing on the subject, there was an idea in my mind 
 that many individuals ruin their health, or allow other persons 
 to do it for them, in consequence of their having no definite know- 
 ledge respecting the ordinary course of disease. If, for example, 
 a person catches a cold, to use a common phrase, they almost 
 immediately have resort to some contrivance to enable them to 
 get rid of it. One man considers that a cold had best be starved, 
 and reads an old adage, " stuff a cold and starve a fever," as if it 
 was intended to signify, that if you did stuff the first, you would 
 have to starve the other as a consequence. Another man takes 
 the saying literally, and does stuff the cold to the best of his 
 powers. Another, bearing in mind the amount of " running " 
 from, the eyes and nose which accompanies the complaint, thinks 
 the most judicious plan is to abstain from drink of all kinds, so 
 that there may be less fluid in the human reservoir, and that less 
 liquid can filter through its walls. Another equally heroic has 
 recourse to the pill box, and endeavours to obviate a running 
 from the nostrils by establishing a run upon their antipodes ; 
 whilst another goes to some homoeopathic medicine chest, the 
 receptacle of innumerable globules of sugar of milk, which are 
 supposed to have various powers, according to the label pasted 
 on the outside, and selects therefrom some globules from one or 
 other of the bottles, which are taken as valiantly as a glass of 
 water is swallowed by a " toper." Now all these people run to 
 physic and attribute all the occurrences which follow to th 
 remedy or to the disease. If, for example, they get better, they 
 hug themselves with the idea that their own sagacity has brought 
 the result about, and if they get worse, they fancy that the 
 disease has been too much for them, and that they would have 
 been better off if they had medicated themselves more freely. 
 It is this dabbling in medicine which strikes so heavy a blow at 
 the preservation of health. There is an epitaph that tells pathe- 
 tically of a defunct who had evidently been one of this sort, < 
 
 I was well ; 
 
 I would be better ; 
 
 Here I am. 
 
146 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 And there is another story to which I have before alluded, of a 
 man who was in good health, putting himself under a course of 
 water treatment to avoid an imaginary disease, and thus bpcoming 
 seriously ill for many months. London Society, June, 1867. 
 
 It is clear to every thoughtful mind that no one can judge 
 fairly of the effect of any disease or of the influence of any 
 remedy unless he has a definite notion of the course which the 
 complaint under his consideration would take if it were let alone. 
 Yet notwithstanding this common sense maxim, it is all but im- 
 possible to find in any medical or other book a single chapter on 
 the natural course of disease. In every age the desire to cure 
 every complaint is such, that it is impossible for any one to 
 separate in the systematic medicine books the symptoms due to 
 the disease itself, and those dependent upon the treatment. 
 When I began to investigate this subject for myself, the task 
 seemed almost insuperable. I could not hope to induce patients 
 to be content with letting me see them, as the sole remedy of 
 their disorder, or to pay me for attending them, that I might gain 
 my experience from their sufferings. All the medical men I 
 then was acquainted with were in the same condition. It is 
 doubtful whether the desired information would ever have been 
 secured had I not taken to examine into the system of Homoeo- 
 pathy, and its results. In the practice of its professors, I was 
 soon convinced that there was an ample opportunity for study- 
 ing the natural history of disease when uninfluenced by drugs, 
 for the decillionth of a grain of any material, however potent, is 
 practically equivalent to nothing, and can no more be called a 
 medicine than the fine black stain which remains in our purse, 
 the result of the loss of an infinitesimal portion from every 
 sovereign which we place there, can be called " money." Well, 
 on investigating the homoeopathic system, I could recognise a 
 plan by which doctors could " humbug the public and pocket 
 the fee," and get information besides. Not that the followers of 
 the system were really impostors, on the contrary, they not only 
 had faith in their practice, but the results of their treatment 
 fairly seemed to justify them in their belief. Honest in their con- 
 victions they gave to the world the results of their experience, 
 and thus the philosophic doctor who attempts to prove all things 
 and hold fast that which is good, has gained an insight into 
 disease far greater than he ever could have before. 
 
 After a close examination of the statistics given by the dis- 
 ciples of Hahnemann, it became clear to the present author that 
 the old- system of medicine had done positive harm to every-one 
 who had indulged in it, and that on striking a sort of debtor 
 and creditor balance in favour of and against doctoring, it ap- 
 peared that the world would, in the main, have done better 
 without physicians than with them ; antimony has killed its 
 
ON THE COUKSE OF DISEASE. 147 
 
 thousands, and mercury its tens of thousands. Now all this has 
 happened because neither doctor nor patient knew what was 
 likely to occur if people were just let alone with nothing more 
 than intelligent nursing and ordinary care. 
 
 For example, who could tell whether bleeding, mercury, low 
 diet, purging, and antimony were useful in rheumatic fever 
 until they knew what would be the phenomena and duration of 
 the complaint if left to Nature, and if any patient were to be ill 
 for months, how could he, his friends, or the doctor, judge 
 whether the length of the disease resulted from the illness 
 itself, or the plan upon which it had been treated ? 
 
 To illustrate the importance of this subject upon the preser- 
 vation of health, let me give a short sketch of the past and pre- 
 sent method of treating this complaint and the results. When 
 I was a student in London thirty years ago, a man with rheu- 
 matic fever was bled once, twice, or three times, was kept upon 
 low diet, occasionally purged, and when the heart became 
 affected which it did in about five cases out of six mercury 
 was employed, and thg patient was salivated, whilst more blood 
 was taken from the cnest by cupping. The disease so rarely ever 
 ran a course of less than six weeks, that our Professor of Medi- 
 cine told us, that he did not believe any case to be one of 
 true rheumatic fever that got well in a less period the ordinary 
 duration of the illness was three months. The patients gene- 
 rally left the hospital with some affection of the heart, and 
 were, as the same Professor assured us, very likely, in two years, 
 to come again into the institution to die of dropsy. A s a natural 
 result this disease was dreaded as one of the worst which could 
 happen. After a period, however, Dr. Owen Eees was induced 
 to treat this formidable complaint with lime juice, whose medi- 
 cinal properties were only then recognised as a preventive of 
 scurvy ; it neither purged nor produced vomiting, it had no ap- 
 preciable effect upon any organ, yet those who took it got well 
 with marvellous rapidity and without those serious affections of 
 the heart which were so common under the old regime. 
 
 After being myself a devoted admirer of the use of lemon 
 juice, I had an opportunity, through the sagacity of our then 
 junior house-surgeon, Mr. Henry Eawdon, to contrast its influ- 
 ence with that of simple water, and to find the difference very 
 small. But it is very possible that locality has something to 
 do with this result, for during the seven years that I was phy- 
 sician to the Liverpool Northern Hospital I invariably admi- 
 nistered lime juice to my rheumatic patients, and found they 
 usually got well in about ten days. One case I particularly re- 
 member ; I ordered the girl the usual remedy, but she did not 
 improve as others did. I increased the dose, but there was no 
 apparent progress towards health. I then inspected the bottle, 
 
148 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 and found the lime juice spurious ; the pure stuff was obtained 
 and the cure was as rapid as it had been in other cases. When 
 I became attached to the Royal Infirmary in the same town, al- 
 though I continued the practice to which I had become familiar, 
 I never once have found the results that were witnessed at 
 the Northern Hospital. Nevertheless, T still continue to use 
 lime juice, feeling sure that it does no harm. The result of my 
 personal experience is that the average duration of acute rheu- 
 matism is about three weeks, the extremes being about one 
 week and three months. Its ordinary course is that the ankles 
 are first affected, then the knees and other joints in succession, 
 and sometimes the heart, and more rarely the lungs. The pa- 
 tient is always very weak and generally sweats profusely. 
 
 The affection has in every joint a period of invasion, incre- 
 ment, persistency, and decay and thereby hangs a tale. True 
 to the practice I had learned in London, I used to leech the 
 hands of those who had the inflammation in those parts, but 
 I never leeched the ancles. After going through this practice 
 for a time, it occurred to me that it woujjl be just as judicious 
 to let the hands alone, as to leave the legs to Nature ; the leeches 
 were therefore omitted in the next case, and I have never used 
 them since, for I find that the hands get well of themselves 
 just as well when let alone as when meddled with. The same 
 may be said of blisters. Shortly after gaining this experience, 
 the house-surgeon announced to me that one of my patients had 
 his heart affected, and on examination I found evidence of 
 inflammation, both of the outside and of the interior of that 
 organ. Under these circumstances, the doctor had been taught 
 to bleed, cup, and salivate the patient, but I was dissatisfied 
 with the plan : there then flashed across my mind a case of 
 pericarditis successfully treated by globules of sugar, and it oc- 
 curred to me yet more strongly that as the ankles, hands, &c., get 
 well in this disease if they are let alone, I should leave the 
 heart alone too. It cost an effort to me to do so, for had the 
 man become seriously worse, or died, I felt sure that every one 
 in my profession would consider that I was guilty of culpable 
 neglect and constructive homicide. Yet feeling sure that my 
 arguments and inferences were sound, I ran the risk, and never 
 before saw a case get well so rapidly ; since that period I have 
 never ordered mercury, cupping, bleeding, or even a blister for 
 this complication, and am unable to recall one single instance 
 in which the heart has become permanently damaged. During 
 my period of hospital practice (about fourteen years), I have 
 lost two patients from rheumatic fever, and both died very 
 suddenly from acute inflammation of both lungs. Thus we 
 see that when the natural course of a disease is known, we 
 can judge not only of the effect of the treatment, but of the con- 
 
ON THE COURSE OF DISEASE. 149 
 
 dition which the patient should be in, after the complaint is 
 .over. We now see that .the system in vogue under the old 
 regime prolonged the illness, and permanently impaired the 
 framework of the body, and we conclude that all those who 
 value the preservation of their health will naturally shun it. 
 
 After this let us turn our attention once a^ain to a common 
 cold how many of those who suffer from it know its natural 
 course ? we may sketch it thus. We know of its advent by an 
 unpleasant dryness of the nose, next day we have a sore throat, 
 a stuffed nostril, &c. ; the next day may have an inflamed eye, or 
 an inflamed ear, and an extension of the complaint to the wind- 
 pipe ; the next day or two are given up to hard coughing, sneez- 
 ing, &c. ; whilst in some the complaint passes down the gullet 
 as well as the windpipe, and reaches the stomach, producing the 
 sensation of something .being there which the patient would 
 like to get quit of, but cannot ; this arises from the coats of the 
 stomach being thickened, and perhaps inflamed, like the mem- 
 brane which lines the nostrils, and it is naturally attended with 
 indigestion. After three days or so, the "cold" has advanced to 
 the bowels, and produces diarrhoea, which lasts a day or two 
 longer, and then there being no other place to go to, the com- 
 plaint disappears, its ordinary course lasting from ten days to 
 a fortnight, according to circumstances. 
 
 When once an individual knows that the ordinary course of 
 a cold is run out in about a fortnight, he is not likely to talk of 
 a cold hanging about him for six weeks ; and if he knows that a 
 " cold " has a definite course he is not likely to mistake the in- 
 vasion of consumption for a simple catarrh. 
 
 Still further, when any-one once becomes imbued with the 
 notion that a cold runs, like measles, a definite course, he will 
 not feel disposed to make himself more miserable than he need 
 be. If the cold makes him feel weak and good for nothing, he 
 will not make himself more uncomfortable by taking pills or 
 potions. If " a cold " produces purging, he will not feel disposed 
 to augment its effect by aperients, any more than he would use 
 soap and water to cure the inflammation which the cold has 
 caused in the white of his eye. By acting thus rationally the 
 individual only suffers from the disease, and not from his own 
 doctoring in addition. 
 
 When once the idea arises in the mind that certain complaints 
 are like annual, and others like perennial plants, the desire arisen 
 to know whether the two can be distinguished, and we ask 
 ourselves, which those are that have as definite a life as a lark- 
 spur or poppy, and which resemble the oak. Of course the 
 answer to this question can only be given by experience. But 
 experience has sufficed to inform us that such complaints as 
 measles, whooping cough, scarlet fever, small-pox, chicken-pox, 
 
150 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 fever, plague, pneumonia, acute rheumatism, cold, diarrhoea, 
 and a number of other ailments, have a transitory duration. 
 The seed is sown, the plant springs up, bears flower and seed, 
 then dies down never to rise again in the same body. As a 
 rule it is well to treat these complaints as we would some tender, 
 annual, whose flowers and fruits we prize. .To attempt to coerce 
 the progress of such complaints, and to cut them short, or to 
 stunt' their growth, is to endanger the life of the individual who 
 forms for the time the soil in which the annual grows. When 
 once both patient and doctor understand that a certain disease 
 has to be watched rather than to be combated, it will be all 
 the better for the' field where the b.attle is to be fought. I have 
 heard of a woman .who thanked God, when she saw the body of 
 her. son with a hole through his forehead, that "his eye was 
 saved," and I have' heard of a physician who congratulated 
 himself, when his patient died, that his remedies had " cleaned 
 the tongue." To most people it would seem a very preposterous 
 idea that it was better to die from drugs than from the doctor, 
 yet we have seen something* very like it asserted. There is 
 indeed scarcely one physician of cultivated intellect and tena- 
 cious memory, who could not write an interesting, nay, even a 
 fascinating book respecting popular medical errors, and the 
 fallacies of the faculty ; but all forbear, because of the proverb 
 that it is an ill bird which fouls its own nest. 
 
 But although there are many diseases whose course is de- 
 finite, and their duration tolerably certain, there are others 
 which will continue for an indefinite period unless they are 
 successfully combated. Thus, for example, tape-worm is a com- 
 plaint which is never known to cure itself, and scalled head in 
 like manner is equally inveterate. These, and sundry others of 
 a like character, are of animal or vegetable origin, and resemble 
 the green fly or red spider upon a plant, rather than the plant 
 itself, and it is as hopeless to attempt to cure these affections by 
 doses of sugar of milk as it would be to cleanse a green-house of 
 vermin by kissing our hands to the plants infested with them. 
 
 Whenever, therefore, the physician recognises the presence of 
 what he terms parasitic growths, he knows that they must be 
 judiciously attacked. 
 
 But there is a great difference between one parasitic growth 
 and another, which introduces into medicine a great amount of 
 uncertainty. Every variety of cancer is as much a parasitic 
 growth as is the mistletoe bough on the oak or apple tree, or 
 the lichen on an ancient birch ; but there is this distinction 
 between the one and the other, that whereas the mistletoe and 
 the lichen come from seeds ~or spores, irrespective of the tree on 
 which they grow, cancer comes from some change in the stock 
 itself. The distinction is important, for we cannot cut a cancel 
 
ON THE COURSE OF DISEASE. 151 
 
 away from the body with the same impunity as we can separate 
 moss from a veteran of the forest. We are justified in using 
 whisky and gunpowder to kill and expel a tape-worm, but it is 
 a question whether we are justified in using a knife to extirpate 
 a cancer. Yet, as this is a moot point among surgeons, and one 
 which requires an extensive acquaintance with statistics, we 
 will not enter into the subject here. 
 
 It now becomes necessary for us to draw a moral from the 
 preceding considerations, and we may best do so*by enunciating 
 the following recommendations to our readers : 
 
 1. Never take physic to shorten a disease until you know 
 how long that complaint would remain with you if let alone. 
 
 2. When you do take physic never adopt a 'drug which will 
 inflict more misery than the complaint would do. 
 
 3. Whenever you have a disease, disorder, or complaint which 
 has a tendency to run a definite course, make yourself as com- 
 fortable as you possibly can under the circumstances. 
 
 4 Never patronise doctors who have not any, or who having 
 some, refuse to communicate definite notions as to the probable 
 course, duration, and accidents likely to occur in the course of the 
 disease for which they treat you. 
 
 5. Whenever a doctor, whom you can trust, tells you that 
 the probable duration of your disease is a fortnight, do not 
 endeavour to force him to try to cure you in a week. . 
 
 6. It is better to let such diseases as have a tolerably definite 
 course take their own way, rather than to endeavour to cut them 
 short. Those who are gouty well know this, and prefer to bear 
 a week or more of fearful pain, than to pass months of suffering 
 without any goal of health being apparent. 
 
 7. and lastly. If you want to preserve your health, and attain 
 to a good old age, bear with illness rather than attack it 
 furiously in the one case you have a good chance of recovering 
 with a constitution practically unimpaired in the other there is 
 a strong probability that your frame will be injured both by the 
 disease and by the drugs taken with a view to cure it. 
 
CHAPTEE XXI. 
 
 ON OLD AGE. 
 
 SOME old author, but whom I cannot remember, has made the 
 remark that man never seems to enjoy life more keenly than 
 when he is about to leave it. Sir Walter Scott had some such 
 idea in his mind when he describes how the champions Fitz- 
 Jaines and Roderick Dhu 
 
 Each looked to sun and stream and plain, 
 As what they ne'er might see again. 
 Then foot and point and eye opposed, 
 In dubious strife they darkly closed. 
 
 " Canto v., Stanza 14. 
 
 In truth the feeling is too common not to be noticed by all. 
 The sculptor who gives the last polish to the statue which he 
 has called into life from a shapeless block of stone ; the artist 
 who gives the finishing touch to a picture which from an un- 
 sightly array of canvas, oils, and brushes has become the bril- 
 liant representation of some gorgeous scene ; the author who 
 from a mass of memories has woven a web which posterity may 
 wear, all feel some tinge of mournfulness when they part with 
 the work which has cheered many an hour, even when the toil 
 has been heavy. No wonder, then, that man when about to 
 part with life for ever, feels that he never enjoyed it half so 
 much before. By a stretch of imagination, I can fancy that a 
 man who has been tossed about on the angry billows of life, from 
 his earliest years, might in a tempest such as wrecked the ill- 
 fated steamship London raise his hands above his head and 
 sink into the sea as the only place of rest he had ever known ; 
 but for one who would act thus there are many who cling to the 
 least plank, and refuse to die until the Fates compel. 
 
 It is thus in old age. There are some who, having fought a 
 good fight in the battle of life, cheerfully lie down and die, or 
 woo Death to come to them, and when they see him coming 
 hail him joyously. Two such individuals I have personally 
 known, and in both instances a hint that death was not surely 
 coming was regarded almost as an insult. But for one who 
 thinks thus there are many who cling to life and watch over 
 their latest days with a carefulness which of itself produces 
 pleasure. Nor can we blame them, for to those who have cul- 
 tivated their "intellect during youth, old age is fraught with 
 
ON OLD AGE. f 153 
 
 pleasure. To the man who has struck out' a new business or a 
 new line of thought, or who has inaugurated a new style of en- 
 gineering, architecture, or poetry, nothing is more delicious than 
 to be able to help the nursling on, and to see it gradually 
 assume maturity ; and if during his early days he had to battle 
 for his new ideas, he rejoices in his old age to see the victory 
 won, and to repose upon his well-earned laurels. Such an one 
 is always respected, and his opinions sought ; and he who could 
 scarcely induce even his wife or his friend to believe him at the 
 opening of his career, finds himself at its close the oracle before 
 whom all bow down implicitly. 
 
 For such an one the doctor gladly schemes, for him he gladly 
 pours forth all that his experience tells him ; for him the phi- 
 losopher would try to discover the elixir of life, or to contrive a 
 mill which would grind old people young. But the physician 
 knows perfectly well that his power is limited ; he can no more 
 indefinitely prolong the life of man than he can create an ele- 
 phant. He knows full well that, every creature has a career 
 allotted to it beyond which it cannot go. His experience tells 
 him that every individual man may be compared to a vessel 
 containing a certain quantity of water, which must evaporate 
 eventually ; or he may compare him to a locomotive in constant 
 use, which infallibly breaks down in time ; or he may compare 
 man to the watches in the shop of an horologist, which if wound 
 up all at the same time do not cease to beat all at the same 
 moment, but continue a longer or shorter period according to 
 the strength of the mainspring. 
 
 "We may adopt any one of these illustrations as the basis for 
 what we have to say. It is clear that evaporation of water 
 varies in activity according to definite causes. A hot day and 
 a brisk wind will increase the rate, whilst a cold night and a 
 still air will reduce it to a minimum ; but even frost will not 
 restrain it utterly. Again, the locomotive is worn out at a slow 
 or a fast rate, in direct proportion to the speed with which it is 
 driven. Again, we know that a watch in which the balance 
 wheel is disjointed will run down in a few minutes, and that by 
 moving the regulator so as to make its movement fast or slow, 
 we can make it go during twenty-four or thirty hours from 
 the time of winding it up. We may, however, carry our simile 
 still farther, by considering the career of a locomotive made 
 especially strong for driving express railway trains. For weeks 
 and months it does its work with a few slight repairs ; with the 
 strength of youth it eats enormously of fuel, and converts it into 
 movements of amazing rapidity ; it faces steep gradients, and 
 tears away at an even speed whether it is weighted by a train 
 of ten or one of twenty carriages. It resembles, a man in his 
 prime, when nothing seems too hard for him to attain. But 
 
 R 
 
154 THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 after a time the inspector reports that the iron constitution 
 shows signs of decay ; it is no longer safe to trust the boiler 
 with a pressure of some eighty or one hundred pounds to the 
 square inch ; and so the fiery steed is put to do less arduous 
 duty, as its life advances and its decay becomes more appa- 
 rent, its work is still further curtailed, and it is treated gently 
 until it is wholly useless dead as a locomotive. In a similar 
 fashion the mariner treats his ship and the jobmaster his horses. 
 
 The application of the foregoing considerations to man is 
 comparatively easy, and we readily recognise the fact that if any 
 one continue to be as " fast " in his old age as he was in his 
 youth he will certainly run down the sooner. 
 
 Let us now take a mental glance around us and inquire who 
 are -they that " age " and die the soonest. They are, as a rule, 
 the sons of toil, the labourer, the hard- worked artisan, the inde- 
 fatigable curate, lawyer, or doctor, the soldier, the mariner, and 
 the like ; and although we may find in all these classes many 
 who reach to a good old age, yet on an average they die compa- 
 ratively early. It is doubtful whether in any portion of the 
 world its inhabitants live a faster life than in America, and it is 
 certain that the average duration of their lives is less by about 
 ten years than that of the British. Their women fade soon, and 
 the belle of this year may be almost a fright in the next. 
 Amongst the Swiss there is abundance of pure air, hard toil, 
 frugal fare, yet in spite of these the men soon age, and die 
 off in comparatively early life ; whilst it is all but impossible 
 to find a pretty woman amongst the peasantry who is twenty 
 years' of age. If we now turn our eyes in another direction, we 
 see 'that those who enjoy as a rule the greatest longevity are 
 the members of the high nobility, the dignitaries of the law and 
 of the Church, and those physicians who have a sufficiently 
 good practice or private purse to enable them to keep and use 
 a carriage. The country squire whose means are ample, and 
 whose life is steady, sees the career of most of his labourers, 
 who started with him in life, closed by death ; or he knows that 
 one by one, worn out by toil, they go into the workhouse, and 
 there prolong a precarious and flickering existence. 
 
 Let us, however, approach the subject from yet another point 
 of view, and inquire what are the changes in the human frame- 
 work which attend upon increasing years. We find in the first 
 place that appetite and digestion fail, that the muscles of the 
 body become diminished in size, whilst there is a tendency for 
 the fat to increase. This alteration is very apparent and very 
 common in the heart, which thus becomes unable to exert itself 
 as it did while young in keeping up a vigorous circulation of 
 the blood : hence it is more subject to spasm and palpitation, 
 and the individual to faintness, &c. The arteries also undergo 
 
ON OLD AGE. 155 
 
 a change and become thickened, or so studded by atheroma as 
 to lose all their natural elasticity, consequently they are apt to 
 give way and produce aneurism on any unusual exertion of 
 body. The capillary vessels also undergo a change and become 
 thickened, thus preventing the normal amount of the nutrient 
 portion of the blood to exude through them, and making every 
 part of the frame less endowed than it ought to be with full 
 vitality. Hence proceeds apoplexy, or softening of the brain, 
 which is akin to mortification, or that peculiar affection of the 
 feet which goes by the name of senile gangrene, wherein every 
 portion of the toes, feet, or ankles becomes dry, black, and dead. 
 Hence, too, arises that dryness of hand so common in old age, 
 and that coldness that is so often complained of. Shakespeare 
 has well described some of the things to which we have alluded : 
 
 Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth that are written down 
 with all the characters of age ? Have you not a moist eye ? a dry hand ? a 
 yellow cheek ? a white beard ? a decreasing leg ? an increasing belly ? Is 
 not your voice broken ? your wind short ? your chin double ? &c. Second 
 Part Henry IV., Act i., Scene 2. 
 
 Now all these things indicate that in old age every organ of 
 the body is in a deteriorated condition compared with what 
 it was in youth, consequently if a person wishes to nurse the 
 last embers of life he must prevent them burning too fast. In 
 everything the man must act as if he was older than he used to 
 be. He must walk instead of run, he must drive instead of 
 ride, he must lie instead of sit, he must eat " stews " instead of 
 steaks, and feast sparingly rather than aldermanically. "With 
 small power of making heat, he must avoid cold baths; cold 
 winds, cold rooms, cold meat, and cold comfort. His bed-room 
 must" be well warmed in winter, and his house must- never be 
 chilly. His brougham must be warmed by some contrivance, 
 and if he drives a gig he must have a warm hat for his head 
 and a hot bottle for his feet. He must walk little and rest 
 much. He may think deeply, but he must fight little in favour 
 of his views. He may please himself whether he takes wine or 
 water, beer or spirits, but he must always give himself a suffi- 
 cient amount of sleep. He must avoid thinking of apoplexy, 
 liver, and bowels ; he must eschew physic as he would an open 
 enemy, and must do his best to avoid speculation in business, 
 ill-temper amongst his domestics, and testiness in his family 
 circle. In short, every one who wants to enjoy and prolong his 
 old age must live in this world as he hopes to do in the next. 
 
 LONDON : M'GOWAN AND DANKS, GREAT WINDMILL STREET, HAYMARKKT. 
 
MEDICAL AND OTHER WORKS BY DR. 1NMAN. 
 
 o- 
 
 The following works have been published by the same author : 
 
 A Treatise on Myalgia : 
 
 Second Edition, 8vo., pp. 307, with six . Lithographed Plates. 
 London, Churchill, 1860. Price 9s. 
 
 The intention of this work is to show that a vast number of pains which 
 have been considered as due to inflammation of internal organs, or to 
 neuralgia, to hysteria, to malingering, &c., are in reality due to an altered 
 condition of certain muscles, fasciae, or tendons, arising from direct injury, 
 or from overwork. It enters into a detailed account of the physiology ot 
 the muscular system and its pathological states, and gives directions whereby 
 the nature of myalgia may be recognised, and the sufferings arising there- 
 from may be modified, relieved, or cured. 
 
 Foundation for a New Tkewy of Medicine: 
 
 Second Edition, post 8vo., pp. 528. London, Churchill, 1861. 
 
 Price 10s. 
 
 Of which the following review that appeared in the Medical Mirror, 
 January 1867, gives an account. 
 
 There has been of late years certainly, perhaps always, a dangerous tendency 
 to let the theory and practice of healing separate ; so that, instead of mutually 
 aiding one another, they occupy apparently antagonistic positions. Our syste- 
 matic lecturers administer to their class now a bit of one, now a bit of the other, 
 and feel themselves under no. constraint to exhibit their connection. We find 
 even such teachers as the President of "the College of Physicians, about a quarter 
 of a century ago, giving to his pupils (and who is not his pupil still ?) the lessons 
 in theory which he had received from his precursors, and confessing at the same 
 time that his practice was completely at variance with those lessons. (See 
 Letter of Sir Thomas Watson in " Markham's Gulstonian Lectures on Bleeding, 
 &c.' ) During that quarter of a century our schools have been becoming more 
 and more empirical year by year ; we shorten the systematic lectures, as ii 
 ashamed of them, and multiply and magnify clinical, that is, empirical instruc 
 tion. 
 
 There are those who do not object to this. They say theories have of old led 
 us wrong down with them then ! let them not lead us any more. Ah, my 
 friends, you are aiming at an impossibility ! They will lead you, and cannot but 
 do so. Only, like link-boys in a London fog, unless you tell them how to guide 
 you right, they will probably guide you wrong. For instance, who can say that 
 he has never been influenced by the fallacious ideas involved in the abstract term 
 "inflammation," with its derivation from "flamma?" Have we not all seen 
 the unhappy Latinizing of "frenzy " by "phrenitis," and the mental association 
 between the termination "itis" and depletion, prove most fatal to the patient ? 
 Do not the theories implied by the words "stimulant" and "derivative" often 
 incline at all events, if not lead, each one of us to faulty practice ? 
 
 Among thoughtful men there has been growing up a feeling of shame at tho 
 degradation of medicine to a technic art by tke want of any general views of 
 disease at all in accord with the mode of treating it adopted by our acknowledged 
 leaders. There has been going on a fermentation of thought, not dissimilar to 
 that which preceded the great religious Reformation. It has not, indeed, lasted 
 for so long a period, and perhaps some may think us not yet ripe for a Luther to 
 
ii Dr. Inmaris Medical Works. 
 
 crystallize into dogma the truths seething within us. It is a bold stroke for Dr. 
 Iiiman, and it always will be a bold stroke for anyone, to come forward and pro- 
 pose to defend against all comers a piinciple which he considers will be the loun- 
 dation-stone of the medicine of the future. 
 
 He does not indeed, imitate the great Keformer by nailing his theses on the 
 doors of the College of Physicians ; but if he did so, the poster would probably 
 exhibit as a heading in red capitals 
 
 ALL DISEASE IS A DEFICIENCY OF VITAL FORCE. 
 
 "We believe this formula is a just expression of the idea animating the whole 
 volume now under review, enunciated from time to time in phrases of varied form 
 and length. 
 
 The author may fairly claim the merit of being the first of this generation who 
 has put the notion in a tangible shape, and the first of any generation who has 
 been enabled to bring science to its support. Stahl and Brown and Darwin came 
 very near, but physiology was not in their days sufficiently advanced to enable 
 them to defend and perfect their system ; and the unfortunate false deduction 
 respecting alcohol, which poor Brown drew, discredited the influence they exerted. 
 It is different now ; her scientific handmaids Chemistry, Physiology, Histology, 
 are in a condition to give as well as receive aid from Medicine ; and, above all, 
 we are less than our fathers under the dominion of words in estimating the 
 qualities of re-agent and their effects. So that, whatever truth there may be in 
 the generalisation, thus set baldly and rawly forth, has a fair chance of standing 
 its ground. 
 
 But is it true ? And if true, is it true absolutely, as we have put it above ? 
 Aye, there's the rub. Some will accept it with certain exceptions, some with a 
 grain of salt, some with a grain of cayenne pepper ; a considerable party will 
 qualify it with an epithet very important in a practical point of view, "All 
 curable disease ;" some will put their own definition to vital force, and then say 
 it is not applicable to that ; some w r ill deny the existence of vital force, and to 
 them the expression is meaningless ; some will find it a platitude, and so on. 
 But few, we are sure, of those whc think while they practise, and practise while 
 they think, will fail to acknowledge that they have of late been yearly more 
 and more illustrating by their acts some principle which may be \vrongl} T , 
 may be imperfectly expressed, yet somehow underlies the formula we have 
 used. 
 
 The exact meaning of the term "vital force" does not seriously affect the 
 argument ; ^yhether we take it to be as even Mr. Lewes allows is unobjectionable, 
 "the dynamical condition of the organism ;"* or whether, with Dr. Inman and 
 Dr. Beale, we view it as the Si/Vo^tc which works through that condition, is of 
 no consequence. In the former case, disease will be " an adynamic condition of 
 the organism ;" in the latter, it may be called, in our own expressive tongue, 
 "scant life." 
 
 The first five chapters are occupied in discussing this vital force in various 
 aspects, the existence of it, the modifications of it by matter, the influence of 
 the individual nature it is associated with, the action of destructive agents, its 
 definite duration, and its absence from the still organic body, or "death." The 
 sixth chapter enters upon the subject of disease : 
 
 " In health, every part of the body is undergoing change ; but new material 
 takes the place of the old with such steady regularity, that no alteration Avhatever is 
 apparent in the shape, colour, consistency, or composition of any part beyoud such 
 as is proper to growth and decay, such as the development of the testes in birds 
 during spring, and their diminution during autumn aud winter, and the same 
 in a man at puberty, and the development of the uterus and mamma? during preg- 
 nancy, &c. 
 
 " In other words, every organ is perpetually renovated during health, and a cer- 
 tain definite standard condition is habitually sustained. 
 
 " But when an individual is out of health, and the vital power is impaired, we 
 cannot expect that the functions will be performed normally, or the renovation keep 
 up to the standard. The departure from the healthy standard may be so small as to 
 be inappreciable, or so great as to be incompatible with life. Between these extremes 
 we have an infinity of degrees. 
 
 Lewes's Physiology of Common Life, pp. 415. 
 
Dr. Inman's Medical Works. iii 
 
 " Shortly, thon, we say, deficient vital power manifests itself by disorder of func- 
 tion and altered nutrition in all our organs." 
 
 That the phenomena of disease are the phenomena of a deficiency of vital 
 force, of which death is the absence, is illustrated by what the author calls "a 
 digression," but which seems to us a very essential part of the argument, "upon 
 the phenomena of dying." These are shown to be extreme degrees of the familiar 
 phenomena of disease. If, then, 
 
 " We can point out the tfose connection existing between certain signs during life, 
 and certain appearances after death, and show that whenever there is reason to be- 
 lieve that the body is in n. dying or very enfeebled condition, symptoms occur pre- 
 cisely similar to those which occur prior to mortification elsewhere, and if we can show 
 that these symptoms occur chiefly when the vitality of a part is very low, there is at 
 least fair ground for the inference, that wherever they are present, they indicate a 
 great Vant of power, locally or generally, or both. 
 
 " What these signs and symptoms are, it will now be our business to show." 
 
 And accordingly, in the next ten chapters, he goes through the principal 
 tissues and organs, showing how their various morbid states are essentially mani- 
 festations of deficient vital power. 
 
 We will take from the first of these chapters " On Deficiency of Vital 
 Force in the Nervous System " a specimen of our author's style of argument, 
 and his forcible, trenchant manner. 
 
 " When we see in mania, proofs of great mental excitement, surely, it is argued, 
 that must involve increased action the proposition seems self-evident. But, in 
 reply, we ask What is excitement? What is increased action? Is it not a more 
 than usually rapid expenditure of tissue and of power ? Is it not expending in one 
 day the material which would otherwise last two ? and with this excess of expendi- 
 ture over supply, can there be anything else than impairment of vitality and loss of 
 power?" 
 
 The importance of this consideration in the management of lunatics has now 
 been recognised in practice for some years why should we allow the theory, 
 which looks upon augmented mental excitements as augmented vitality, to hold 
 its ground in our systematic works unsupplanted and unopposed ? 
 
 The comparison drawn by the author between post-mortem solution of the 
 brain and morbid softening during life, both local and general, is very graphic 
 and striking. Microscopic observation strongly confirms his views of the true 
 pathology of degeneration of the cerebral vessels. This is a vital matter in the 
 treatment of apoplexy, which Dr. Inman, rightly considers of so much im- 
 portance, that he devotes a great part of a chapter to the citation of cases in 
 support of his opinion that the " clot" in the brain which occupied so much the 
 thoughts of our forefathers, is really, in very many cases, the result of venesec- 
 tion ; and that it is found less frequently now and of less size, simply because we 
 bleed our apoplectics less. 
 
 It may be observed that the cerebral pathology here indicated applies equally 
 well to hydrocephalus, both chronic and acute. In the succeeding subject de- 
 ficiency of vital power in the lung striking use is made of the addition to our 
 powers of observation, made by Mr. Hutchinson's invention of the Spirometer. 
 It is remarked how any morbid state, not only those which limit the area of the 
 pulmonary expansion, but anything that debilitates, diminishes the vital capa- 
 city, or the number of cubic inches of air capable of being retained in and ex- 
 pelled from the chest. This is very important, and strictly true, not only of 
 diseases, but also of habits which lower muscular force without obviously affect- 
 ing the health. For example, we have found, in examining for insurance, persons 
 apparently robust, that none of those who habitually drink spirits between meals, 
 even in such moderation as to be considered strictly temperate, can blow up the 
 spirometer to their due figure. And in several instances of really intemperate 
 persons, this mode of observation has led to the detection of their secret. 
 
 In the succeeding chapters "on Deficiency of Vital Power in the Heart " and 
 "in Blood-vessels" we are made to feel what the accurate modes in use for 
 measuring ihe respiratory organs have done for us, by the comparative want of 
 force in the author's argument when the circulating system is in question. The 
 deficiency is not in the facts or in the impression they leave, but in the reduction 
 of them to weights and figures. We look forward with interest to great use 
 
iv Dr. Inman's Medical Works. 
 
 being made of the observations arising out of Mr. Marey's invention of the 
 phygmograph in the next edition of this volume. 
 
 In the chapter on the stomach, the importance of Rest in the treatment of 
 affections of this organ, is shown by many pointed cases,' shortly and clearly 
 given, without that twaddling off into irrelevant matter, which is so common a 
 failing with the citers of clinical experience. The application of Dr. Inman's 
 principles to these diseases is especially valuable, because no class have suffered 
 more from the still clinging adherence to medieval asceticism which afflicts our 
 judgment. The fashionable theology of the Middle Ages taught that whatever the 
 body desired was bad for the soul ; fashionable medicine went further, and said 
 it was bad for the body too. The notion still survives, and thus is lost the aid to 
 selection of treatment which "the voice of thVnesh " (?) ffdpKos fywv^ Epictetus) 
 might give us. The author's remarks on the appetite as a condition of digestion 
 are striking. 
 
 The 13feh chapter is a bold one, for the author ventures to question the sup- 
 posed frequency of -disorder of the liver as a. co-efficient in ill-health. This is a 
 serious blow to the routine practitioner; for* at' least nine-tenths of his chronic 
 patients, who have got a pain the'y cannot otherwise account for, together with 
 all their amateur advisers and consolers, are .convinced that their livers are out of 
 order, and want'to be treated for "biliousness." 
 
 Now, on analyzing' cases in which ocular or manual examination shows the 
 liver to be realjy diseased, such as malignant fever, abscess, cancer, atrophy, 
 cirrhosis, &c., of fhe organ, it will be foujid not only that no hepatic symptoms, 
 but a's a rule, very few symptoms at all, and those vague ones, can be considered 
 the rule. It is not likely,, therefore, that when slightly disordered, it should 
 declare itself fly such frequent signs. 
 
 " This being then the conclusions to which our investigations have led us, it is 
 advisable to review the principle lipon which presumed diseases of the liver are 
 generally treated, and the value of those special medicines, which are most in 
 vogue." A review which the author undertakes, lance in hand, attacking in a 
 most trenchant manner, all cant, calomel, and cholagogues. This chapter is all 
 the bolder, in that it is purely destructive, as Dr. Inman is driven to confess his 
 inability to supply a true therapcusis of the liver in the place of the false which 
 he so ruthlessly destroys. He says the current physiology - of the hepatic 
 function is so limited, that no reliable knowledge of its behaviour during debi- 
 lity can' be gained'. . ' 
 
 The specimens which we have quoted will enable our readers to guess at 
 the line of argument adopted in the succeeding chapters on the skin, muscular 
 system, and blood. In the last' Jhere are some very shrewd and suggestive 
 remarks on what may be called post-mortem changes in secretions; thai" is to say, 
 chemical changes which take place in various times after the separation of the 
 secretions from the body. The author considers rapidity of chemical action 
 succeeding to vital as a direct proof of deficient vitality. This is a very important 
 practical point ; for if the "loulness" of stools kept for our inspection is an 
 evidence of debility, the conventional purging and grey powder, which they 
 generally suggest to the medical attendant, should be replaced by nutrition and 
 tonics. 
 
 To acid fermentation he also attributes the sourness of the sweat in rheumatic 
 fever, and suggests a prognosis to be derived from the rapidity of the alkaline 
 decomposition of the urine. 
 
 The next chapter takes up the argument which naturally comes out of these 
 various illustrations, and is apparently a justification of our author's assumption 
 of the title "New," as" applied to his theory of therapeutics. 
 
 He points out that from the earliest time to the present, the means em- 
 ployed by orthodox physicians to restore health have been designedly such as 
 \vill make a sound man ill. Drugs have been respected and valued in propor- 
 tion ns they derange the vital force. Let an herb or a mineral cause a mighty 
 physiological disturbance in the human body, and they have taken for granted 
 their.e must be a therapeutical use for it.f We have seen somewhere a quotation 
 
 f* The leading idea of the savage mind is to reverence destructive power. Sir 
 Samuel Baker found no medicine so popular in Central Africa as tartar emetic, l>y 
 reason ot the quickness and vigour of its consequences. His patients said there 
 never was such a doctor. , "He said I should be sick," they exclaimed, "and sick I 
 was ! There was no mistake about it ! Wonderful J" 
 
Dr. Inman 1 s Medical Works. 
 
 Van Swieten, in which that philosophical physician expresses the result of 
 ride-spraad review of medical practice in the aphorism, " All that Art can 
 
 from 
 his wide- 
 do is to weaken life ; and truly that seems a fair description of the agents which 
 have been handed down to us in the Materia Medica ; so that to conduct a cure 
 on exactly opposite principles, that is to say, by strengthening the vital forces 
 which remain sound, instead of weakening those which are acting abnormally, 
 may be fairly called a new theory of therapeutics.- But we think Dr. Inmau is 
 not quite just to his predecessors, when he represents them as using destructive 
 remedies, that is, remedies which lower the vital powers by destructive assimila- 
 tion, or which remove, in a mass, a component of the body, solely with a view 
 of destroying disease. The intention often is to giro freer play to the remaining 
 functions by curbing or removing that which in the existing condition of the" 
 body is a temporary impediment to it, and thus to allow those functions to re- 
 cover force, and act themselves as remedies. Thus we* may draw blood in con- 
 gestion of the lung ; not with the design, or even fhe effect of diminishing the 
 semi-vital " inflammation " which is going 0:1 in the pulmonary tissue ; but in 
 order to mechanically set free the obstructed circulation, and enable the blood to 
 restore normal nutrition. Or we may purge/ even drastically, a patiejit with 
 dropsy, acknowledging freely that the induced weakness is a" risk, while reckon- 
 ing that the chance of a removal of the absorption compensates the 'risk. To 
 sacrifice capital for the sake of increasing income, may be a very prudent trans- 
 action. We are sure that Dr. Inman often acts in such a manner in his own 
 practice, and he ought not to pass 'over the fact that much of 'the treatment re- 
 gistered destructive, had such an intention. In this chapter the advocate rather 
 overshadows the philosopher. 
 
 Of means for restoring the vital power, it might be expected that'the list would 
 be shorter than that grim catalogue of perturbative re-agents, which our fore- 
 fathers delighted to lengthen, and we, in shortening, have still tried to strengthen. 
 Foremost stand hygienic measures, on which Dr. Inman has many sensible re- 
 marks to make, illustrated by anecdotes from his own experience, pointed and 
 purpose-like, but still so much in accordance with the experience of every one of 
 us, that we assent at once, and only wonder we never drew the inference our- 
 selves they are so good, we think they must be our own. Perhaps the only 
 novelty is the stress laid by the author on the proper regulation of exercise, so 
 as to avoid excess ; which, in. virtue of being a novelty, is 'treated of at consider- 
 able length. There is no cfuestion but what here also medieval ascetism is at 
 work in the public mind, and leads them to look upon weariness as productive of 
 more health than can be" gained by simple relaxation. Dr. Inman's views on the 
 subject ought to be put into the hands of the general public, not only as giving 
 them a piece of useful advice, but as an illustration of sound physiological 
 reasoning. We cannot advise the same treatment of his observations on the use 
 of alcohol. There would be a great danger of their being misunderstood and 
 misused. They would conduce to that great mistake often made in self-manage- 
 ment the substitution of alcohol for a sufficiency of food ; indeed, we should 
 like much to see a complete revision of this chapter in the next edition, and a 
 transfer of alcohol from the company of "Foods" into the succeeding category, 
 "Medicines." 
 
 Among these latter, we are obliged to Dr. Inman for the attention he draws to 
 two of exceeding value, as direct analeptics, viz., Glycerine and Almonds. Of 
 the former he gives from nine to twelve drachms daily, as a substitute for cod- 
 liver oil. Of the latter he quotes an instance in which a quarter of a pound of 
 blanched almonds and a pint and a half of milk daily, took the place of all other 
 food for eight months, and enabled the patient, a man of thirty, to walk twelve 
 miles every morning. We would commend this portable food to Alpine and other 
 pedestrian travellers, also to the military commissariat. 
 
 Among tonics, alcohol occupies the first place, and the remarks upon it in this 
 collocation cannot but meet with the approval of all practical and unprejudiced 
 men. The value of more strictly pharmaceutical tonics taken from the vegetable 
 kingdom is here attributed, in a great measure, to their direct astringent eflects 
 on the mucous membrane of the stomach, and led by this idea, Dr. Inmau has 
 habitually substituted for them pure tannin, as a strengthening remedy, and has 
 found it very useful. Upon the use of opium as a tonic, there are some exceed- 
 ingly suggestive remarks, founded on experimental observations which every one 
 
vi Dr. Inman's Medical Works. 
 
 can make for himself, and most probably will be able to cap from memory. 
 This is an excellent feature, by the tvay, in Dr. Inman's illustrations ; they are, 
 as a rule, drawn from common experience, not from exceptional instances. 
 True, we have now and then "a strange story" in a note, bat it is always 
 quoted on the authority of a named witness, and is never used to establish a 
 principle. 
 
 The tonic effect of opium is not explained by the author ; might we suggest 
 that it seems to us to depend on a temporary restraint of the destructive assimi- 
 lation caused by nervous action ; and that it would consequently be found 
 beneficial in those cases only where nervous action is excessive. If we are 
 right, an indication of the proper cases in which to ute it would be esta- 
 blished. 
 
 The sketch we have given will serve to introduce this very suggestive volume 
 to our reader, and lead him to a pretty just anticipation of the solid food for 
 thought which it affords. It only remains to us to say that this nutritive diet is 
 rendered palatable by an agreeable dressing ; the pages are ornamented by anec- 
 dote and allusion, sweetened from time to time by touches of human feeling, and 
 occasionally made piquant by what the author must allow us to call a little 
 "sauce." 
 
 Ancient Faiths Embodied in Ancient Names : 
 
 To be completed in Two Volumes, vol. i. 8vo., pp. 789. Largely 
 illustrated. Printed for the Author. To be had through 
 Triibner & Co., Paternoster Row ; J. C. Hotten, Piccadilly, 
 London ; Holden, Church Street, Liverpool ; or from the Author 
 direct. Price 17. 10s. 
 
 In this work the author shows that in ancient times cognomens were 
 given generally by priests at an early age to children. That in selecting 
 a name the individual almost always introduced the name of the god which 
 adored, e.g., Epaphroditus signifies "from Aphrodite," or an attribute, e.g., 
 Gaham, "he is flaming," referring to the sun; Ethan, "he is hard," 
 referring to one of the creative emblem ; sometimes the two are united as 
 in. Abiel, " he is my father." By collecting ancient names, the gods 
 worshipped become apparent and the ideas which were held respecting 
 them. The opinions held in Palestine, Babylon, Assyria, Egypt, an. I 
 Greece resembled those of Modern Hindustan. The Creator was held to be 
 masculine or feminine, or both combined. The Godhead consisted of a 
 Triad and an unit making four, or Arba. The first three are masculine and 
 correspond to the iigleaf, or general lather; the unit is feminine and 
 corresponds to the general mother. To the examination of all the Biblical 
 names is joined an investigation into ancient faiths and their bearings upon 
 modern opinion, and there are long essays upon Anthopomorphism the 
 Ark, Angels, Devils, Heaven, Hell, Infidelity, Inspiration. The whole 
 occupies ground untrodden before, and in many points it enlarges upon 
 subjects which require such delicate handling as to be veiled in the Latin 
 language. 
 
 Ancient Pillar-Stones and Cairns : 
 8vo. Stitched, pp. 34. Holden, Liverpool, 18G7. Price 2s. Gd. 
 
 In this dissertation the author shows that these are due to the ancient 
 plan of representing the Creator as or by the organ which determines 
 Creation on earth. 
 
Dr. Inman's Medical Works. vii 
 
 Also a Treatise on 
 
 Spontaneous Combustion : 
 
 Showing the causes which determine the occurrence of fire in certain fabrics, 
 coals, wood, cotton, &c., under certain circumstances. 
 
 Also an Essay on 
 
 The Teachings of Experience : 
 
 In which the author shows that experience alone, and when disjoined from 
 active thought, and close observation, is rather a bar to progress than an 
 assistant to science, 
 
 Oil the True Nature of Inflammation and Atheroma 
 
 in Arteries : 
 
 A large portion of which is incorporated in " Foundation for a New 
 Theory of Medicine." 
 
 On the Delights of Travel: 
 
 Being an apology for a Physician knowing something beyond his own 
 profession. 
 
 The Results of Microscopic Experience: 
 
 eing an account of the information gained by the Microscope, 
 tarings on Pathology and Treatment. 
 
 Of the Five last very few copies remain in the Author's hands. 
 
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